Elena and Rusk stared at the portal floating before them in awe. Rusk stood in front, as a hero does. The portal floated and glowed that eerie green and otherwise made a show of being creepy. Rusk almost called to the Elva, then remembered it was painful for Elena for him to do so. And Elena, she was still shaking behind him, staring at her glowing red skin, alternating between looking at that and the green oozing portal.
The portal buzzed, the fly sounds building to crescendo as an image pulled apart the space to reveal itself. It was a necromancer, and its gender was indecipherable considering the sickly way the air bled apart in order to show who they were.
But what was apparent was they were half rotten, just as the image of Greil had been, and the green tint to the dead portal, which was the only reason Rusk could see it with his physical eyes instead of his mind’s, seemed to prevent the necromancer from leaning out any farther than its torso. Even still, a grin spread its lips, and an amused cackling laugh echoed around in the lower decks. Under the beating sun, in a ray of light peeking through the hole in the deck, the necromancer leaned closer, and Rusk saw a resemblance to someone he should know, except he didn’t. It was then he realized it wasn’t he who knew the person, but the Elva itself.
This was who the Elva wanted gone.
Elena’s heartbeat was loud inside Rusk’s ears. It overwhelmed the buzzing.
“Who are you?” said Elena in as brave a voice as she could muster from behind Rusk. It still came out shaky and uncertain. But there was something beneath the surface, a real curiosity, that propelled it forward so it was more than only a whisper. The words were clear. She awaited an answer.
More laughing from the necromancer.
“She asked you a question,” said Rusk.
“The King’s right hand.” The necromancer’s voice was a drumbeat alongside the buzzing of the flies and the smell and sound of rippling flesh before it breaks. Decay and fear. All that was a monster. “I hear you’re Sir Greil’s disciple.”
Rusk scowled.
“We should make a pact, you and I. I hear you have control over Elva.”
“Never,” said Rusk.
“Your loss. But I could give you life eternal.”
Elena shuddered.
“No thanks. Think I’ll take my chances with mortality.”
The necromancer laughed. “A stubborn fool, the best kind to tear down to oblivion!”
The rocking of the ship lessened. The sounds of battle and cannon fire died down and were replaced by the sloshing waves of the sea, a calmer sea than before. A profound calm settled over the vessel, and Rusk knew in his core that the battle with the sea serpent was over.
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They’d won.
Captain Arrolg had done it.
Now all that was left was to take care of this portal thing, and whoever this necromancer was who was controlling it.
Somehow.
Without access to the Elva.
Elena stepped forward.
“Could you really grant eternal life?” she asked.
“What are you doing?” Rusk reached out and yanked her back a little harshly in retrospect. “You can’t trust this necromancer person. I thought you hated the fact this portal follows you everywhere.”
“I do,” said Elena. “But if I didn’t fear death, then I wouldn’t fear the portal itself.”
“Yes, I can.” The necromancer reached a hand out through the portal toward them. It was skeletal and curtained in sinew, veins, tendons and scraps of muscle. Flies glowing green oozed along its surface. “Come, child. I can cure you of mortality.”
Elena wrenched free of Rusk to step closer.
“Wait! You don’t know what you’re doing!”
With one glance over her shoulder, Elena winked at him.
Suddenly a flash of images flooded Rusk’s head. A plan. She didn’t intend to die, and she didn’t intend to take up the necromancer’s deal either. She was giving Rusk permission this time. She’d figured it out. She would let him reach inside and pull a weapon from her. At the exact moment she was pulled into the portal.
Neither of them knew if it would be sacrificial.
But Rusk didn’t have any other options. Unless Captain Arrolg was going to make himself useful and climb down here to finish the portal after doing battle with a sea monster.
“Yes, child. That’s it. Come closer. All the way over here, my dear.”
Rusk held his breath.
And then when Elena was in range and the portal was reaching with both itself and its necromancer toward her, wrapping its arms and tentacles and fly swarms around her, Rusk reached for the Elva and pulled. He pulled with everything he had, all of his ire, all of his desire. All that he had gathered over the course of his journey so far, and he told the Elva to spare Elena, but kill the portal.
No, not kill.
Obliterate.
The lower deck glowed white with Elva Light.
It emanated from Elena and spanned outward, drowning out her screams which Rusk still heard inside his head and apologized for while still willing the portal to be destroyed.
Captain Arrolg dropped down behind Rusk using a hole that the sea serpent had bashed into the ship. He put a hand on Rusk’s shoulder, but Rusk barely felt it there. He was too concentrated on the task at hand.
Even so, something magic came from Captain Arrolg’s touch. Something that pushed and curled and tinted the Elva and the portal alike, a power from deep within the captain himself that aided Rusk’s connection to the Elva and served as catalyst and extra ammo, metaphorically speaking.
The buzzing flies and carnage of the portal and smell of death all around them faded.
So did the Elva light.
Elena fell to the ground unconscious. Rusk rushed forward to make sure that’s all it was.
And the portal was gone.
Captain Arrolg lingered behind them, kneeling and panting. The tip of his sword used to support his own weight so he wouldn’t fall over.
Elena groaned.
Rusk exhaled. He felt himself smiling through the exhaustion. “Hey. You alright there? Had me scared for a second.”
“Why,” said Elena breathlessly. “Would you care if I died?”
The question made Rusk reel backwards. Of course he would care! Obviously!
But she spoke it as if she expected no one at all in the entire world to give a damn if she were to give up her life. Which made Rusk both angry and sad.
“If you don’t mind,” said Captain Arrolg. “Do please explain what you’re doing aboard my ship.”
“Uh,” said Elena. “Stowing away?”
An abrupt laugh escaped Rusk. He braced her shoulders and helped her sit. The red glow was gone, and Rusk realized, so was her connection to the Elva. He couldn’t pull from her directly anymore. Not that he was trying. He just knew, in that way he always just knew when it came to the Elva. A direct, visceral communication that didn’t require words.
“I would expect as much from my good-for-nothing granddaughter.”
Rusk nearly dropped Elena right back onto the deck.
Granddaughter! Well, that explained the resemblance. But what it did not explain, was why both of them seemed to have otherworldly gifts.