“Anastor struck down his traitorous brother, baptizing the cities of the Dragons in flames even their scales could not ward. The fire rages even now, buried just beneath the surface. A horrid reminder of the No-God’s betrayal.”

“Chronicles Vol.1”, Author unknown

Vikkar woke from his vision with a start. The smell of smoke assaulted him, along with the sounds of shouting. His sisters were still in their chairs at the table, eyes closed and breathing steady. Vikkar picked them up, holding Havi in the crook of his arm while he slung Emilia over his shoulder. A glance out of the door showed a horrid reality. Demons from the Fanim were rampaging through the town, burning everything they couldn’t break with their fists.

The fighting was over, the soldiers were nowhere to be seen. The scent of blood was carried on a stiff sea breeze, giving some small hint as to where they could have gone, but the thick smoke hid any sight of the battlefield. A blessing in disguise as far as Vikkar was concerned.

Lupin had disappeared as well, and with the sounds of pirates growing closer every second, Vikkar couldn’t afford to wait for him. So he turned and fled. A shouting rose up behind him as the rocky earth crunched beneath his feet. “Rot.” Vikkar cursed, trying his best to pick up speed.

But the pirates were faster than him to begin with, doubly so with the burden of his sisters. He set them down and turned to face his pursuers as he slid his knife from its sheath with a reluctant hiss.

There were three of them, not good odds. Even worse they were big brutes of corded muscle. The one on the left had shifty eyes, feathers instead of hair and a long curved knife in one hand. On the right was a dark man whose legs bent the wrong way and ended in solid hooves, a hammer of black iron resting on his shoulder. The middle was a smirking woman, the left side of her body covered in rough orange armor and her left hand was the claw of a ganst*. Vikkar’s knife hand shook, there was little hope of steadying it, not with death staring him in the face.

“Come quietly Riddari, and we spare your life. There is no profit in your death, neither for you or for us.” The shifty eyed man spoke, inching his feet across the rocky ground.

If he was by himself Vikkar would have surrendered without a doubt. This was a fight he couldn’t win and he knew it. He was outnumbered, out of breath and had 4 inches of dull steel to defend himself with. But his sisters were asleep just inches behind him, and everyone had heard stories about pirates and what they did. So he tightened his grip on the knife and steeled himself as best he could.

The one on the left drove at him with his blade, threatening to gut him from hip to rib. Vikkar dodged by a breath and was ready to drive back, sending his blade into somewhere near the man’s neck, by the shadow of a hammer in the corner of his eye forced him back. Then the blade was coming again, this time for his throat. Vikkar stumbled back but stayed on his feet. Everything was growing heavy, the exhaustion of his sprint taking its toll even through his adrenaline high. The hammer swung low and uncaring for his exhaustion. He dodged back once again, but it still caught the meat of his thigh sending a spike of pain all the way up to his skull and knocking Vikkar prone.

“Shit.” Vikkar cursed through gritted teeth.

“Shoulda just taken it easy pal. Make it easier on us all. Rael pass the rope will ya.” The shifty eyed man stood above him, turning to look at their third companion who Vikkar had lost track of in the scuffle. “Rael? OH what the hell is that?! Bron smash that thing before it bites anyone.”

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“Why’s it have to be me Kirk? I don’t even like bugs.” The big man spoke, his voice just as lumbering as he was.

“All the more reason for it to be you then, sides you have a hammer, I have a knife. I can’t smash it very well with a knife now can I?” Vikkar tried to reach for his own knife as the man spoke, but a boot pressed on his wrist was all he got for his trouble.

A short girlish scream erupted, followed by the sound of a hammer hitting rock. “Great, now it’s bitten Rael and ran off with part of our pay. Good job you lug.”

“I’m sorry Kirk, I just thought-”

“And that was your mistake, just leave the thinking to me or Rael.” Kirk barked, “Now pass me some rope.” Vikkar was panicking now. Something had run off with one of his sisters. He had to save her, there had to be some way.

“Wait! Wait. Your friends been bitten by something? Was it a big spider?” Vikkar spat out rapidly. If it was one of the spiders he had a bargaining chip. Their venom was deadly, but he knew ways of slowing its spread, ways that could help someone survive it.

“Yeah creepy thing. Why?” Kirk spoke, eyeing him warily.

“A bite from them will kill you in a day. If you save my sister, I can save your friend.” Vikkar met his gaze evenly, trying to slow his heartbeat as much as he could.

“And why should I believe a damn thing you say. You have plenty of reason to lie.” Kirk ran the flat of his blade along his palm as he spoke.

“The veins around her bite are turning black.” Kirk turned back to look, Vikkar saw his expression drop and knew that he had him.

“Alright, I’ll save your sister.” Kirk stepped off Vikkar’s hand. As Vikkar got to his feet he saw Emilia’s sleeping form being held up by her hair with Kirk’s wicked knife at her throat. “I’ll save this one. Get to work or I make her smile from her throat.”

That was almost too much for poor Vikkar. His teeth ground together in a vain attempt to keep his tears from spilling while his hands curled into fists in a mix of hopelessness and futile anger. He walked across the rocky ground with leaden feet, to kneel beside Rael. He hated this woman, even more in some ways than Kirk. Not only had she lost him a sister while trying to capture him, he had to save her for it.

One wiry arm laid bare on the ground before him, two red dots stood on her pale skin, like a child’s drawing of evil eyes. Around them was a web of black veins, spreading at visible speed. He’d never seen this spider bite in person, but the Riddari kept extensive records of almost every island they’d ever visited. This bite had been catalogued in Kadi’s adventures from more than a decade ago. Rael’s skin around the bite felt much like the pages of that old book, dry and flaky to the touch.

The venom hadn’t spread past her arm yet, if her veins could be trusted. At this point all the methods Vikkar knew would end with amputation, and preferably soon. Except that wasn’t true, was it.

The knowledge came to him like the shadow of a memory. Vikkar reached out, his vision splitting between the mundane world around him and the Arcanum. He saw Rael, saw the weaving of her thread in the Tapestry. She had not lived a good life, but the world had never been kind to her. The venom, to her, amounted to a final kick from a world that had never truly wanted her. Vikkar saw how she resented it, and found he couldn’t hate her. It would be so much easier if he could. Coiling around her, like oil on water, was the venom.

He reached into her, and he felt her body with even more clarity than if it was his own. Every inch laid bare. The venom pushed through her veins,turning her blood into a black sludge. Vikkar called to it and it came like an obedient child, flowing out from the two small wounds on Rael’s arm bringing a stream of corrupted blood with it. The lot crashed against the dry earth and was lost swallowed by the greedy earth.

“What the hell was that?” Kirk cried from somewhere that sounded awfully far away to Vikkar.

“Magic.” Vikkar spoke as his waist bowed and his consciousness fled, blessing him with at least a few moments of peace.

*A ganst is a creature lying somewhere in between a bird and a fish. Its body is covered in a hollow orange chitin that covers it’s soft downy feathers. It lives on the shores of the Fanim lands near pockets of coral in which it nests