The One Who Seeks Vengeance

  Maddison had been pleasantly surprised when the Warlock not only jumped to search Maynard’s mansion, but insisted that Sariel stay and help Maddison instead of following him. It was an opportunity to slip away while the creature was distracted in his search. He just had to convince Sariel that was a good idea.

  Which, understandably, was the bulk of the battle Maddison was facing.

  In the half hour they had spent scavenging the few standing shops and houses for survivors, food and medical supplies, Sariel hadn’t said a word.

  She stayed close, oddly absorbed in her task. The only interactions being a stray elbow bumping past Maddison, or a quick glance in his direction. He had caught her unchanging expression every time they passed eachother. Her lips were bent in a frown, and her brow was furrowed in a mix between concentration and frustration. And the frustration only seemed to intensify whenever Maddison caught her gaze.

  Maddison held on to the discomfort of his companion until they had piled up a sizeable haul. He stopped Sariel as soon as she had scooped up as much as her arms could carry. “Something wrong?”

  Sariel’s frustration shifted, her gaze travelling along the ground while she searched for the words. “Be straight with me Mr. Sungard.”

  Maddison sighed at the familiar phrase.

  “Yer one of them scammers aren’t you?”

  “What did I do this time?” Maddison replied, lowering his voice to keep Caleb and anyone close to the gates out of the conversation. “I’ll give you back your helmet when we leave Bervolt.”

  Sariel let out a humph, walking towards the gates and forcing Maddison to follow her. Unlike the mercenary, she didn’t care much for the volume of her voice. “First yer not tellin me my old boss Medila is dead, and now yer picking fights with Cody and Hord’anne.”

  Maddison stopped her before she crossed the wooden gate. “The warlock’s picking fights with me.”

  “Right sir, I’ll give him an ear too.” Sariel replied, turning with her loot to stomp towards the small pile she had made.

  Maddison hissed a sigh between his teeth, striding to Sariel’s side to stop her again. “What do you mean Medila’s dead?”

  Sariel’s squint twisted into a scowl at the question, the first Maddison had ever truly seen on her. However, Maddison had seen the expression enough in his life to know he was in a corner, and if he didn’t come clean, that would be his corner for at least a week.

  Asking how she knew Medila died was liable to deflect her into the silent treatment. Or worse, settle her mind on following the demonic warlock - which would be the furthest thing from the safety Maddison was trying to find for her. If she truly had magic, as Cody had constantly implied, and that’s what stopped the spider’s poison, safety would be a scarcity for a healer.

  So he settled on telling the truth.

  “I thought you would be happier not knowing.”

  Sariel breathed out a short sigh. “I woulda walked back there, sir - I was plannin’ on, to tell her I quit.” She looked away as soon as her chin quivered, her voice trying to push past its shake as she spoke. “I woulda walked back to an empty village… Doing that so I’m happy for a few days, I don’t think that’s a fair trade. I coulda said goodbye if you told me.”

  Maddison cast his gaze to the ground, giving Sariel some privacy to move past her sniffles. “I don’t have a good track record of making the right choices. But I am sorry. We can go back if you want, it’s only a few days.”

  Sariel eyed Maddison, trying to blink off a few tears. “No one there. I can do it here.” She held out the pile of supplies, dropping it in his arms and wandering towards a house near the gate.

  Maddison watched her, expecting her to grab some of the potted flowers that had survived the dragon’s fury. But instead, she bent to grab something lower, picking up a large rock that was being used as a door stop in front of a house.

  She awkwardly hobbled back to Maddison, finding the center of the road they stood on.

  And then, she dropped it. She paid the large rock a few seconds of mournful silence, pressing her eyes to dry the tears with her sleeve before reviving a soft smile.

  “Goodbye everyone.”

  ━━━━━━ ? ? ? ━━━━━━

  The One Enchanted By the World Around Them

  Sariel wandered slow as the stack of random supplies she had picked up wobbled in her arms. She was close to dropping a boot full of cheese and bundles of twine that she had scavenged from one of the houses. The last thing she wanted was the cheese to pick up the wrong kind of seasoning on the dusty ground.

  The man in shiny golden armour named Caleb was being held hostage in a conversation with Endris. The large gryphon had rescued her from the debris of the house, and aside from a broken leg, she had enough energy to belt out orders to Tarson as he rushed around trying to help the survivors. The knight had tried some magic on a few of the townsfolk that put many of them to sleep, including Sajus, who was laying in the grass on a stretched blanket while Timber hovered at his brother’s side.

  As Sariel moved to disperse her loot in her ever growing pile, Endris’ words met her ears.

  “I appreciate your help, but Bervolt has nothing to pay you.”

  Sariel eyed Caleb as he did a small bow, his voice thrumming almost theatrically. “That’s alright mi’lady. I am a hero and my services are completely free!”

  Sariel stopped at the familiar words, eyeing the man named Caleb with some caution. She slowly dropped her loot, then crouched to sort out the supplies she had collected. The various tumbling sounds as she dropped the mess drew the knight’s attention, and he turned from Endris, focusing on Sariel.

  Sariel watched his legs as they came closer, focusing on the shiny plates of metal that covered his entire body.

  Polished obsessively. Not a scratch to be seen.

  She held Caleb’s gaze as he stopped in front of her pile, the man’s cheeks dimpled with his unbreaking smile. “I don’t think I caught your name, young lady.”

  Sariel didn’t miss a beat as she stared up at the knight. “Sorry sir, don’t think I should throw it to ya.”

  He tilted his head, his smile only growing as though it would invite her to change her mind. “And why’s that?”

  “You talk just like another hero I met, and he was none too good.”

  Caleb’s smile withered at her words. The thrum left his voice, a strange sorrow reflecting through his gaze. “Understood. I’m sorry circumstances have caused you to think that.” He checked his shoulder, awkwardly bending to try and sit on the ground with his bulky armour. When he failed at criss-cross, he went for his knees instead, unable to fully fold his legs in as he rested on his elbows and knees like a strange dog. He eyed Sariel’s pile of supplies, unable to discern the manner in which she was sorting them. “There’s some injuries I’ve seen, any chance you could help me heal them?”

  “Only know washin and wrappin sir, and I’m all outta water.” Sariel replied, stretching a roll of bandages in front of the knight.

  He chuckled at the display, “I meant moreso with your magic, but I understand if that dragon spent it all.”

  “Don’t got no magic sir.”

  Caleb hummed, tapping his fingers along the ground while he looked Sariel up and down. The longer he looked, the more his nose scrunched, until eventually, he removed his glove and offered an open palm.

  Sariel assumed a handshake when she grabbed his palm, but he gently held her hand instead. And then she felt the strangest sensation buzz from her palm and up her arm. A cozy warmth like she had just put on a thick blanket to fight a cold night.

  The feeling faded as quickly as it had come when Caleb released her hand.

  “Why sir, I never felt so warm and fuzzy. You’d be a good replacement for a campfire, all the warmth with no smoke to chase ya. Would you like to follow us round? I’ll share my snacks with you.”

  “That is a very tempting offer.” Caleb laughed, “unfortunately, duty calls. I’ve got a fairy with a temper on my hands, and she’s not one to be left unchecked.” He nudged his chin at the smoking town. “As I’m sure you can tell, she’s fairy-ly angry.” Caleb said, chuckling through the awkward silence at his own joke. He cast his gaze to her hand, nodding to himself at the small victory. “I am quite certain you have magic.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Sariel stared at her palm, her eyes growing wide with excitement as she looked between it, and the knight. “Thank ya sir!”

  “You’re… welcome?” He eyed her curiously. “Do you have a pass?”

  “What’s a pass sir? I know of passin, my old boss medila was always hopin the ration collectors would do it.”

  “Oh nothing like that. I mean a magic pass.”

  “Right sir. My friend Cody knows a lot more about that magic stuff.”

  “Who owns your magic?”

  “Ohh, well Medila owned me sir an everythin I had…” Sariel’s smile dipped some as the words came out.

  Caleb kept an empathetic smile. “And she gave you a pass?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then she didn’t own your magic young lady.” He rolled off his knees, splaying his legs straight to sit on his butt and rifle through his armour. He found a small envelope squeezed into his chestplate, placing it in front of Sariel as an offering.

  She gazed upon it with excitement, moving it around to watch the stamped golden seal of a fairylike woman catch the light. “I say, this paper here is more fun than that other hero’s!”

  “That’s a temporary pass. It will hold until the end of the cycle. Make sure you find yourself a guild that will give you a crest. That’s a permanent pass, and you’ll be able to pass through most places with your magic hassle free.” He eyed the few surviving townsfolk that were loitering about, awkwardly making it to his feet with Sariel’s assistance and ushering her to a more private area as he dipped his voice low. “And… don’t go engaging with folks that have this.” Caleb said, pointing at the Heroguard insignia pressed into his breastplate. “Not worth the dice roll. Have your mercenary friend do the talking.”

  Caleb’s gaze travelled just past Sariel’s shoulder, his staged smile immediately reviving.

  “Speak of the devil and he will approach.” Caleb mused, a strange greeting to the large shadow that had taken Sariel’s side.

  Maddison responded to the knight’s jeer with folded arms.

  “Where are you folks headed off to?”

  Maddison held the silence tight, much to Caleb’s growing frustration. But there were so many eyes on his shining armour that the mercenary's lack of social skills would have to be a marathon his smile would endure.

  “Well, if you do eventually make your way to back to your guild I neutralized all the threats through the Balden Underbrush about two cycles past. I’d say it’s a safe bet.” Caleb said, growing a little more excited when his words laxed the mercenary out of his folded arms. “We found a dozen initiates dead at the crossing north of there, so I would recommend the scenic detour.”

  The knight reached into his satchel, pulling out two small vials and holding one out to each of them. Sariel took her gift with a curious look, shaking it to watch the red liquid inside bubble up. Maddison eyed the crystalline vial, holding it to the sunlight to check for any impurities. “Shouldn’t you give these to the injured?”

  Caleb laughed. “They are quite strong. Hate to cause some unnecessary indigestion when a healing spell will do just fine.”

  Sariel copied Maddison, holding her frothed vial up to the sunlight. While being a sun ornament was far from its primary use, the red glow as the light touched it spurred some excitement in Sariel. “Woah! Can I have two?”

  Caleb chuckled, grabbing another one from his bag. “Of course you can young lady. Ra’zerun’s blessings be upon you in your journey!”

  ━━━━━━ ? ? ? ━━━━━━

  The Fool

  “I’m searching. The fat bird is doing the rescuing.” Cody growled, his hair flaring as Hord’anne flopped on his collar. Still judging him no doubt. There wouldn’t be fresh food around if he rescued it all.

  But he knew where a fresh enough snack was. That’s why he volunteered to search the rest of the mansion.

  The house still let out the occasional whine when a breeze touched it. Glass, walling and crushed furniture littered the floors. If it wasn’t for the dragon snout shaped holes in the walls, one might have guessed that the place was ransacked by stray bandits.

  He passed a large hole where a bedroom once stood, eyeing Caleb as the Knight hovered over some food and supplies Maddison had already scavenged.

  He noticed a glow from his shirt, grabbing Alina’s gem curiously.

  “Cody had wanted to meet the hero of a great story. And here in the salted ashes of what was left of a demigod’s curse, stood a man who could command the very stars to his will.”

  Cody averted his gaze when Caleb turned to look at the mansion, touching Alina’s crystal through the fabric of his shirt. “That’s not the protagonist, that’s a mentor archetype at best. You said there were four. How many now?”

  “One walks the town, enchanted by the world around them. Another still seeks vengeance for a past they cannot change. The third-”

  “Wears a mask, doesn’t want to look at their face.” Cody interrupted, Alina growing silent, her presence now pressing at his mind. Cody sighed at the uncomfortable sensation. “Sorry. So there’s just three left?”

  “Cody hoped this.” Alina mused. “But he was a fool.”

  Cody stopped. “What?”

  The presence in his mind withdrew.

  “What did I do?” Cody pressed, lifting the dim crystal up with a perplexed panic. “Alina!”

  He shook the crystal, his frustrations stilling when he heard a small cough.

  Cody eyed the office with a grimace. The door had been clawed through by Cindy’s feral corpse, bloodied splinters peppering everything. He shifted the table Maddison had used as a blockade, carefully opening what was left of the door. A weak voice met his ears.

  “Hello?”

  Cody’s curiosity flattened as he peered into the room, locking gazes with Maynard. His arm was still a bloody mess, and it looked like Cindy had added some damage to his right leg. It was a surprise he hadn’t bled out yet. Cindy and The Spinner really were keeping him alive as long as they could to make him suffer.

  Maynard paid no attention to Cody’s silence, or the disgust growing on his face. “Are you a healer?” He groaned, his face beaten and soaked with sweat and grime. The way his working arm stiffened made it clear that he was still in a great deal of pain from the wounds Cindy had left him, but he was too tired to scream anymore.

  “Afraid not.” Cody didn’t linger long on his wounds, looking around the office space. The dragon hadn’t damaged the room, and the window at the end seemed big enough for the gryphon to squeeze through if Cody was to shatter it.

  “The medicine closet is beside the master bedroom. Ground level.” Maynard replied, frowning as he saw the glass and wooden splinters littering the hall. “If it’s still there.”

  Cody’s voice flattened to disinterest at the veiled demand. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  It was just his luck. What he hoped to be a snack for Hord’anne was still clinging to a cursed shred of life. Cody checked the hall, settling on a slightly higher road. He would call the gryphon from the hall and have the fat beast drag the man out for the inconvenience of being alive.

  He stepped back around the debris, barely stepping past the door when Maynard’s voice spiked with displeasure. “Where are you going?”

  Cody stopped. Now curious to try something. “Checking for any more survivors. Don’t worry, someone will be on their way.”

  “Are you daft? I need immediate attention!”

  “Oh? Never would have guessed.” Cody replied, speaking through his teeth.

  Maynard hesitated at the look Cody paid him, his face softening back to timid exhaustion. “I’m sorry friend, it’s the stress. Bervolt will be lost if Im not there to inspire my people to rebuild.” He said, squinting in pain as he scooched his body up to rest against the desk with more comfort to gaze around the room. “I can pay you once you help me out of here.” He groaned as he turned his head too far, “Actually, you look a smart fellow, into rare literatures?”

  Cody lingered by the door, his voice humming with intrigue. “Perhaps.”

  “The drawer, my key is under the ink well.”

  He approached the desk, lifting the inkwell to reveal a small bronze key. He eyed Maynard, the man guiding him with his eyes to look lower at one of the drawers that fit the object. Cody cracked the drawer open, his excitement stilling to confusion as a framed page of parchment stared back at him.

  It seemed incredibly old at a glance, the yellowed page frayed heavily at its edges, and the once dark ink sucked and faded. The symbols were still legible. Assuming they could be read and weren’t complete and utter gibberish.

  He turned the frame, unlatching it’s back to slide the paper out and closely inspect it. Cody eyed the man, Maynard’s face twisting when he held the paper up with his bare hands.

  “Careful. It is a page from the Heretic’s Journal, or… a copy of it. Still practically priceless.”

  Any intrigue Cody held for the indecipherable page deadpanned. For that was all it was. Gibberish.

  He focused on Maynard’s expression as he folded up the ‘priceless’ paper and stuffed it in his pocket. The injured man certainly wasn’t a fan of the treatment, but did he know anything about what he had tried to buy?

  Cody approached the man. “The story goes that Rethalon forced Alina to curse every single page. So that every inked pen would well up and blot out the letters. Every stick of charcoal would scratch through even the thickest pages. Even the sturdiest tool to carve the words would shatter as soon as it touched stone.” Cody eyed Maynard, the man’s face twisting into a scowl. “It can’t be copied.” He paid the man a sarcastic shrug. “I’m afraid you’ve been ripped off.”

  “Those are just tales. Who’s to say which ones are the truth? Take it to an appraiser.”

  Cody crouched low, meeting the man’s scowl with a forced smile. “I have a pretty good source for this one.” He saw Maynard’s eyes darken as he held his gaze, reading the way his chin dipped and his hood hand flexed with irritation. “That woman, the one you were calling a witch. Why did you really kill her?”

  “You heard me before when that witch was in this room.” Maynard growled. If he hadn’t been crippled by the creature, Cody was certain he would have turned his hostility physical at the interrogation.

  He had all the answers he needed.

  Cody smiled, grabbing his tome to flip over to the right page. “Don’t worry friend, I understand. It was very virtuous of you, dare I say… heroic.”

  Maynard’s scowl softened with a light laugh. “Right? Yes. You understand, friend.”

  Cody found his page. He gently pried Hord’anne off his shoulder, Maynard’s face twisting to disgust as he distributed the flipping creature on his injured shoulder.

  Cody caught Maynard’s confusion. “That’s Hord’anne. He’s a friend.”

  Cody rubbed a chip of chalk in his hands, cupping his hands in a circle to form a shimmering layer of magic. He blew on it, the bubble quickly expanding to surround him and Maynard.

  The injured man eyed the spell hopefully. “So you are a healer.”

  “No no, it blocks sounds from escaping, keeps conversations private.” Cody replied, “And I don’t like the noises that much.”

  “Noises?”

  He gave him a cold look, his lips pricking into a smile as he shifted his gaze to the creature on the man’s shoulder. “Hord’anne, eat.”

  ━━━━━━ ? ? ? ━━━━━━

  The End

  of the Epilogue

  Of Act 1

  ━━━━━━ ? ? ? ━━━━━━

  Did you hear the news? Word on the streets is that the Heroguard is recruiting! At the turn of each decade, a new calamity rises from the Hells to devour the light of the world. The Witch of the Westlock still lives, and staffing is incredibly short. Budgets are far too tight to deal with yet another world ending occasion.

  The word on The Wind is the Agents of Death are also recruiting! And they have their sights on a new calamity. A creature that has made its debut on every city's bounty board - The Living Shadow.

  The Greenhorn guild has found itself some new recruits - and with a mountain of gold on this new shadowy specter, dead or alive, who are a band of mercenaries to refuse?