Twentieth of Nirakos
Year 1182 of Emancipation
Loranna hadn’t wasted time once her band of soldiers had agreed to follow her. Under elven escort, she had led them to where horses had been prepared for the journey. They were well fed and nourished, and were loaded with packs containing all the food, water, and healing materials that Loranna and Lithmae had predicted that they’d need. Echtalon and Faelin had spoken to the horses, whispering in ancient elven dialects the old commands that came from their common ancestors. Loranna left them under the watch of Rangir and joined Lithmae in the bushes a short walk away.
“I should be going with you,” Lithmae said quietly.
“We need you here. If the Arcane turn their eyes on the Forest with Belkai gone, it would be a massacre without you.”
“You know where to go?”
Loranna nodded. “The nearest ruins are southeast. If Faelin loses her scent, we’ll just keep moving.”
“You should have all the food and water you need, but you may run low when you’re returning. Depending on how much you use with the medicine, you may not have enough.”
Loranna put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry so much, Lithmae. You’re sending three professional soldiers and one sell sword. We can deal with what the desert throws at us.”
Lithmae seemed uncertain, but he sighed and nodded. “Just be careful.”
Loranna leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Just be here to welcome me home.”
She winked at him, then headed back to the group and called out,
“Mount up! We’re leaving!”
They travelled due south at first. It was two days before they passed through the Forsaken Lands on the southern border of Narandir. It was a beautiful land, covered in lush grass and fertile land. Loranna caught glimpses of wild boar and deer, as well as some of the insectoid creatures that called Narandir home. At least one man-sized spider followed them for a mile or two before losing interest and returning to its nest. Loranna felt a chill as she realised that this was what southern Svaleta would have been like without its former military presence. The Forest really was changing under Belkai, though Loranna thought it curious that she had never promised to end the movement of Narandir’s creatures through the Forsaken Lands. She didn’t know why there needed to be a buffer zone of sorts but trusted that Belkai had her reasons. Svaleta had never had much to do with the dwarves, and Loranna had no knowledge of how trustworthy they were. Belkai was certainly cautious about them.
While they stayed on the roads as they travelled through Nimura, they tried to remain inconspicuous. Their route was the mirror opposite of Belkai’s. Coming down the western side of the region, they travelled through the valley between the mountains of Mortaliae and Mirquez, with Mirzali rising imposingly in the distance. Coming to the desert, they made the same choice as Belkai to sleep during the heat of the day and move during the night. Unlike Belkai, they’d had time to prepare, and pitched tents as they prepared for the first night’s journey.
***
That first morning in the desert, Faelin sat beside Echtalon away from the Svaletans as they ate their ‘evening’ meal. She had hunted and butchered a boar, which Rangir had cooked over a fire. Faelin bit into the meat, savouring the juicy texture, and glanced at her general, who seemed lost in thought.
“Why are we here?” the archer asked, quietly enough that the Svaletans wouldn’t hear her.
“This is our only way to get home,” Echtalon replied, but he could tell that she wasn’t satisfied with the answer. Between bites, he added, “This Belkai that they follow, she destroyed everything that I had put together at Larton. She will die for that. If the Arcane don’t do it, then I will.”
“The others won’t just let you do it,” Faelin pointed out. Echtalon studied the humans for a moment before he shook his head.
“Their lives mean nothing to me,” he told her. “Belkai must die.”
Faelin didn’t respond as she sat in silence and finished her food. Finally, glancing up at the blazing sun, she announced that she was tired and went to her tent. Echtalon was still staring into the distance, his mind far away.
***
They rose as the sun fell, packing the horses as the temperature plummeted. They were soon shivering with the cold, and Rangir silently thanked the gods that they had brought along cloaks and warm clothes for the night travel. The moon seemed bigger out here, and its light was welcome as they made their way across the featureless waste. They saw the occasional boulder, but had no reason to approach them as they moved southeast.
It was halfway through that first night that Faelin spotted something out in the distance behind them. It was just a flash of movement, really, as something tunnelled into the sand. She only caught the one glimpse, and while she checked during the night, she saw no other signs of life. She kept silent, seeing no reason to alarm the others.
They made camp two hours before dawn, this time a few hundred feet from a group of boulders. They slept long and hard for most of the day, and one by one woke up in the mid-afternoon. To Echtalon’s surprise, there was nothing moving in the desert, not even vultures looking for an easy meal. It truly was dead, he thought. It was a miserable place, not somewhere that an elf would willingly find himself. Not even orcs would find a home here. These were strange times indeed.
They set out at sunset again. At one point, Faelin could have sworn that she’d seen sand shift, as if something was travelling beneath, but she passed it off as her imagination. The heat played its tricks on the mind, she knew. They travelled for two hours before the horses became restless, sensing something drawing close. Loranna tried to keep them in line, but finally accepted reality and ordered the others to dismount. They instinctively drew their weapons as they scanned for whatever was frightening the horses. Loranna gripped her axe and kept her body loose, ready to take a swing at any ambush. Rangir and Echtalon had swords drawn and shields up. Faelin had an arrow nocked as she held her bow at the ready. Both of the elves could hear something, but they couldn’t identify the sound or its location. Neither of them alerted the others, not without any solid information to give.
When Belkai had travelled the desert, she moved as an individual, a relatively minor target in a massive wasteland. Four people and their horses presented a much bigger target. Had Loranna known what she’d face, she would have made very different decisions, but in the seconds that followed it was far too late for such hindsight.
Faelin saw a patch of sand swirling, as if something was digging near the surface, and let loose with her first arrow. The heavy shaft propelled it through the narrow layer of sand, where the tip smashed through the creature’s armour. The group heard a screech, and then the stalker breached the surface, thrashing as it tried to remove the arrow. A two-foot talon reached up and snapped off the shaft, but that left the tip still embedded in its flesh. It turned to the group and screeched again, only to catch a second arrow through the eye. It shuddered once and went still.
The horses were still restless, and Rangir braced for the worst. He didn’t have long to wait. Two huge talons appeared in a spray of sand and speared through a horse’s neck. The sand boiled as the horse was pulled to the ground, and Rangir leapt forward to hack at the scaly appendages. His first blow landed, carving through the leg, but before he could go for the second, his leg exploded in agony. He looked down to see that a second creature had gotten him. A tug threw him to the ground as the second talon raced for his chest. A swing of his sword severed the claw, and he grunted as it slammed against his chest and bounced off. He sat up as he was dragged across the sand and severed the talon piercing his leg, but watched in horror as the creature, blood pouring from its wounds, exploded out of the sand and leapt for him. He raised his sword and stabbed it through its chest as its jaws came down around his face.
Loranna watched in horror as the horse was dragged under the sand by the single talon. The sand shook for a few moments, then went still as the creature burrowed deeper with its meal. Loranna turned in time to see Rangir sliding beneath the sand, a creature’s mouth over his head. She leaped for him, sword out, but was too late as he disappeared from view. Faelin dropped beside her and pulled her close as she roared her anger.
***
By the time the sun fell on the twenty-sixth of Nirakos, the three travellers were exhausted both emotionally and physically. They had fought off two more attacks by the burrowing creatures, this time without suffering any losses. The elves had learned what sounds to listen out for, and had given sufficient warning to beat off both attacks. Loranna had wept the first night after losing Rangir but had recovered and forced herself to focus. If she didn’t maintain control, then she would be no help to Belkai. As they travelled through the night of the twenty-sixth, they could see in the distance the first glimpse of some ruins.
“Belkai will make her move in daylight,” Loranna told the elves. “She knows she faces vatriloi, she won’t let them have the advantage of darkness.”
“You want to move in this heat tomorrow,” Faelin said, and Loranna nodded.
“She’s going to need our help, one way or another.”
“So be it,” Echtalon replied. “We’ll do what it takes.”
Loranna didn’t see the look that Faelin gave him, but she thanked him for his submission. It would have been a very different moment had she known his true intentions. They rose early on the morning of the twenty-seventh and set out for the ruined settlement. They arrived late in the morning, passing through the ruined gates as a hot wind blew in from the west.
“This place has been dead for a long time,” Faelin murmured, and Echtalon didn’t respond. They advanced cautiously, hearing no noises other than the wind blowing through the ruins.
They spotted the three bodies as they came close to what seemed to be the ruins of a residential area.
“Belkai!” Loranna yelled and broke into a run. The elves followed close behind. Echtalon stopped at the first body, a pale-skinned blonde woman clothed in the tattered remains of a short silver dress. Her eyes were closed in death, but he could see no obvious lethal injuries. He frowned, but after making sure she was dead he moved towards Faelin and Loranna, who had headed for the other two bodies. The man must have been Davos, Echtalon realised. His shirt had been torn away, and his shallow breaths told the elf that he was not doing well. A dagger stuck out of his shoulder, and Faelin was wrapping a cloth around it to prepare for its removal.
“Not here,” Loranna called out, and Faelin looked up. The sell sword pointed at the nearby watchtower. “Get them out of this sun. We won’t do them much good if they’re going to die of this heat.”
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She turned to Echtalon. “Give me a hand with Belkai.”
Faelin was already dragging Davos across the sand, careful to avoid putting too much strain on his injured shoulder. Echtalon grabbed Belkai by her bare legs, while Loranna took her by the shoulders. Together they carried her through the ruined doorframe into the shade provided by the watchtower’s walls. Echtalon was stunned that the woman was still alive, and his hand dropped to his sword.
“General, come help me with this,” Faelin called out as she turned back to preparing for the dagger’s removal. He didn’t hear her; his eyes were fixed on Belkai as he remembered the terror he had felt at Larton. He couldn’t let her live. Loranna wasn’t paying attention as she pulled Belkai’s ruined shirt up to her shoulders to inspect her wounds. He was grateful that Belkai wore a chest wrapping, not out of a sense of modesty, but because it would make it easier to make the kill. Assassination or not, some of his honour still remained.
“General!” Faelin’s eyes were locked on him as she realised what was going through his head. Echtalon blinked, Faelin’s voice cutting through the haze. You’re a soldier. Act like it, a voice sounded in his head. Soldiers didn’t kill unarmed, injured women. The protection of innocents had always been a part of the Aliri code, even in the midst of pillaging. He knelt beside Faelin and took a hold of the dagger. He met her eyes and she nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth. He pulled out the dagger and Faelin jammed the cloth into the wound. Davos didn’t react, and Echtalon frowned.
“That should have woken him,” he whispered. “That was in deep.”
“Too deep,” Faelin agreed. She reached into the medicine bag and pulled out a vial filled with purple liquid. She carefully lifted the cloth and poured half the vial into the wound before putting the fabric back. “That should help with the clotting. If we can keep the bleeding under control, we can go from there.”
Loranna had poured the same kind of liquid onto Belkai’s chest, but her eyes flew open and she cried out as fire filled her body.
“Breathe, Belkai,” Loranna said, and pushed her back down as she tried to arch her back from the pain. Echtalon came over and put his hands on Belkai’s shoulders, holding her down as Loranna began to bandage her injuries.
“Where…?” Belkai’s eyes were jammed shut, and her question came out as a pained groan.
Echtalon glanced at Loranna, who didn’t meet Belkai’s eyes as she answered, “We’re in a watchtower. It looks like you got the girl. Davos is here. He’s alive.”
Belkai turned her head, grimacing with the pain, and her eyes locked on Davos’ unmoving body.
“He’s alive,” Loranna repeated. “Faelin?”
“No reaction,” Faelin replied, then glanced up. Her eyes went wide when she saw that Belkai was awake. “He’s okay, Belkai. He’s just not awake.”
Belkai knew she was lying but closed her eyes as she faded back out. Faelin whispered a curse.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Loranna. “I didn’t know-”
“She’ll live,” Loranna told her. “What happened to him?”
Faelin shrugged as she probed Davos’ body. “I don’t know. He’s bruised, he’s hit the ground hard. He’s a little malnourished, but other than that dagger he wasn’t badly injured.”
Echtalon let go of Belkai and picked up the blade. He turned it over in his hands and gave it a sniff. He gagged and threw it to the ground.
“It’s foul,” he said when he realised that the women were staring at him. “It’s been poisoned.”
“Impossible,” Loranna said, frowning. “That’s an orcish obsidian blade. They do not poison their weapons, it’s dishonourable. Belkai lived amongst them, she would not ignore their code.”
She shook Belkai gently, and when the woman’s eyes strained to open, Loranna asked,
“What did you kill with the dagger? Belkai, I need to know. When did you use the dagger?”
“Va…vat…”
She passed out again, but Loranna knew what she was trying to say. “Vatriloi.”
Faelin swore. “Of course. The blade was corrupted. Davos is poisoned by vampiric blood.”
“So, what, he’s becoming one of them?” Loranna asked, a hint of mockery in her voice.
“Nothing so crude,” Faelin assured her. “But he will not wake.”
“What do we do?” Echtalon asked. He knew Faelin’s parents. They were of an older belief system, one that dabbled in sorcery and nature worship. If there was a remedy, Faelin would know it, even if she had rejected her parents’ beliefs.
Faelin thought for a moment, then looked up. “Get me a fang from a living vampire.”
Echtalon didn’t argue. He picked up the obsidian dagger, careful not to touch the blade, and walked outside. He sniffed the air, trying to sort out the different scents. There was an animalistic scent from the dead woman on the sand, and he could also smell lingering traces of the creatures that had attacked at Arborshire. But there was one more that he didn’t recognise – almost human but faded. That had to be it. He made his way down the streets with the dagger at the ready. He paused at the rotted body slumped in the sand and gave it a pained sniff. That was the scent that he’d picked up, but it had turned pungent. Now he knew what the vatriloi smelled like alive and dead. Both scents led to the temple ahead of him.
***
Belkai’s wounds were deep. Adrianna’s claws had torn through her upper chest, and the combination of the impact and near-suffocation had pushed her body to the brink even before she’d summoned all her energy to inflict her killing blow. As she lay there in her unconscious state, her mind processed a thousand memories. She remembered the day when she had awoken to find her father slumped outside their home crying, holding her close as he told her that her mother had abandoned them. She remembered walking through the gates of the Brilhardem outpost for the first time, coming face to face with the elf Brimur and telling him that she wanted to be free. She remembered the first time Arak knocked her to the dirt and put a sword to her throat, the lessons that he had taught her about how to fight and kill. She remembered the first time that she had seen Davos, trapped in vines as she interrogated him. She remembered the day that she had taken him as her husband, the delight of her life.
Her eyes flew open with a new determination, taking Loranna by surprise.
“Davos?” she asked, her voice hoarse. Loranna lifted a water bladder to her lips and as she drank, she replied,
“He was poisoned by the dagger. Faelin has a solution, but Echtalon needed to find the ingredients.”
Belkai jammed her eyes shut and silently cursed herself. When she opened them, she saw the look on Loranna’s face and said, “I stabbed him, Loranna. I did this.”
Her voice weak, she recounted her attack on the village, including the fall from the tower. Faelin was stunned into silence, but Loranna said gently,
“You did what you had to, Belkai. You couldn’t have known.”
Belkai was about to respond when Echtalon appeared in the doorway. He tossed the dagger to the ground and handed Faelin something long and sharp. He glanced at Belkai and said,
“I found one in the temple. It was paralysed – someone shattered its spine and left it there. I finished the job once I had the tooth.”
Faelin smiled weakly at him. “I’ll take it.”
She found a metal cup in one of the bags and filled it with water. She wrapped the tooth in a cloth and crushed it with the hilt of the dagger, then poured the contents into the water before stirring it in with some other herbs that she’d found in the packs. She sniffed it, winced, and said,
“That should do it.” She turned to Belkai and smiled. “He’s going to be fine; I promise.”
She lifted the cloth again and poured the liquid into the wound. Belkai could feel Davos’ heart race, and she could feel the burning in her own shoulder as the potion did its work. There was a sudden gasp and his eyes slowly opened. Belkai smiled as his eyes locked onto hers, and she faded out again.
***
She awoke in a saddle lying across a horse’s neck, her feet tied securely to the stirrup. She slowly lifted herself up, and turned her head to see Loranna seated behind her driving the horse. Beside them rode Faelin and Davos, with Echtalon at the far end of the line.
“Welcome back,” Davos called out with a smile. “I thought you’d sleep forever.”
“How long was I out?”
Davos glanced up at the moon. “Seven, eight hours? Rough guess.”
“We’ll make camp in an hour or two,” Loranna told her. “But we’ll need water. We lost a horse on the way.”
Belkai frowned as she looked at the three horses and riders. Loranna grimaced. “Rangir was taken. Some sort of creature that burrowed under the sand.”
“I’m familiar with them,” Belkai said quietly. “I’m sorry. He seemed like a good man.”
“He was a warrior,” Loranna confirmed.
Belkai dropped her voice. “Why them?”
“You wanted a group that wasn’t tied to Narandir,” Loranna reminded her. “Rangir wouldn’t take no for an answer. And I gave the Aliri a simple choice – help or stay captives.”
“I’ve rubbed off on you,” Belkai said, and broke into a wide smile. “Now, did you say that we need water?”
When Loranna confirmed that, she said,
“Find some boulders.” She smiled at Loranna’s confusion. “Just trust me.”
They found a rocky outcropping an hour later and made their way to its shelter. Belkai closed her eyes and reached out with her senses, smiling as she found what she was looking for. She pointed at a boulder on the northern side and said,
“Don’t argue. But someone stand on that rock.”
Faelin gave her a weird look but made her way over. It happened faster than Belkai had expected. The elf had only put a single hand on the rock when it shifted. She leapt backwards as it raised itself on its thick legs and whipped an arrow out of her quiver.
“Don’t shoot!” Belkai called out hoarsely. “It’s harmless.”
True to her word, it ambled away north, its wet tentacles swaying as it moved. The group stared after it while Belkai made her way to where it had been laying and dropped to her knees. She began digging with her hands, and Faelin joined her. When water began bubbling to the surface she said,
“It’s a water seeker. It burrows down for water with those tentacles.” Seeing Faelin’s quizzical look, she laughed and said, “It’s not the first one I’ve come across.”
They kept digging until the hole started to fill up, then filled the water bladders. It was dirty, but it would keep them alive. They had dried fruits for the morning meal, then retired to their tents to escape the growing heat
Belkai stripped off her shirt and ran a hand over the bandages on her chest. It still burned, but the liquid Loranna had poured on it had certainly eased the pain. She groaned as her back started to seize and laid down against Davos. Their lips met, pressed together, and didn’t part for seconds that felt like an eternity. Davos finally broke away and gently squeezed her arm.
“You stabbed me,” he whispered. Belkai giggled.
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” she said, and kissed his neck. He grunted and put a hand on her bandages.
“You could have died,” he said, his voice suddenly shaky.
“I thought I had.” She covered his hand with her own. “But we’re alive.”
They fell asleep in each other’s arms and didn’t awaken until the sun fell.
***
A lone robed figure walked through the shifting sand, pausing at the blonde-haired body sprawled across the ground before him. Falkar stared at her as he felt a surprising sense of loss. For a thousand years she had killed for him and the Arcane, and despite his fear of the twins, he had always admired their brutal art. He had given birth to vampires, werewolves, and all sorts of creatures that stalked the darkness both above and below the earth. Yet it was only occasionally that one of his creations truly stood out as particularly delightful. Kane and Adrianna had always had a special place in his heart. Now they were gone, killed by this Belkai like the beasts that they had become.
“I had expected this to end differently.”
Falkar turned as Delorax came up beside him. Like him, the Arcane was dressed in brown robes, the hilt of his sword showing as always. Falkar turned back to Adrianna’s body.
“You have not told me everything, have you?” Falkar asked. “She and Kane have killed a thousand rogue mages and kings. They have killed Arcane and wiped out villages. And this Defiler killed them and a coven of vampires without once using the power of Narandir. Who is this Belkai Androva?”
Delorax was uncharacteristically silent for a moment. He walked further into the town, and Falkar followed. They passed by Kane’s decapitated corpse and stepped into the temple.
“These should have killed any normal human,” Falkar said, his eyes running over the slaughtered vampires scattered across the floor. “It looks like she cut through them like a demon.”
“She is not of this world,” Delorax finally said. He stopped, his feet just short of a vampire who had taken a blade through the eye before rotting away. “Yes, she was born of human parents, but it is not that simple.”
“Elkur.”
Delorax nodded. “It seems that she was quite literally born to be a Brilhardem. And now that is joined with Narandir’s power, even if she has yet to understand what that means.”
“If she grasps that power-”
“She will,” Delorax cut him off. “It’s inevitable, and we have to be prepared for that. I have one last message for her. And the Svaletan prophetess will be delivering it for me. We will give a promise of peace until we are ready to strike.”
“Nimura is ready for what is to come,” Falkar promised. “But the other Arcane are turning against us. They are returning to Elkur. There are whispers that you are getting weak.”
Delorax’s eyes flashed with fury, but it wasn’t aimed at Falkar. “I have plenty of allies amongst the Arcane. This betrayal will not go unpunished. We will deal with Belkai, then we will reassert our power.”
“Elkur will intervene if this goes much further,” Falkar warned.
“Either Belkai dies or this world burns.” Delorax’s voice was hard, his eyes burning with anger. “Either way, I will have Narandir.”