ARC 7: CHAPTER 33: RESTORATION, REVELATION

I returned to my body, and immediately realized that I was on fire.

I still sat in the mossy meadow atop one of the titan tree’s branches. My legs were crossed and my back arched forward, wrists resting on my knees. And I was engulfed in flames the color of liquid gold. They produced no smoke, and I felt little pain, but the roar of the inferno drowned out all sounds, even my own thoughts as I came back to myself.

I realized someone was shouting. Delphine. She stood nearby, and through carousing flames I saw panic on her face. When she saw me open my eyes, her own widened and she fell abruptly silent.

I lifted one of my hands to inspect it. The symbols Delphine had painted onto my body were still there, and they’d taken on a glow not unlike hot iron so they stood out starkly against my skin. The flames didn’t seem to be hurting me. I could feel their warmth, but it wasn’t the stinging agony I’d been suffering from my powers for so long.

It felt like it had in the beginning. I’d forgotten that feeling.

I stood. Delphine took a step back, her expression still shocked. It took me a moment to find words, and when I spoke my voice sounded like many voices speaking together with the rumble of flames beneath them.

“It’s done.”

Delphine looked shaken. “You were lost to me for a while there. Spirits tried to come and take your body, but the wards I put on you worked, or…”

Her expression became wary. “Did they work?”

I looked at the glowing sigils again. They hurt more than the aureflame, a result of being pushed too hard no doubt. The phantasmal flames licking the air and the furnace rumble in my voice began to fade as I answered. “I feel like myself. You saved me. The dead would have taken my body if you hadn’t protected it.”

I lowered my hand and stared at her. “That’s two debts I owe you.”

Only then did I realize that Delphine’s breath was icing, and she shivered violently. The aureflame kept me warm, but the air around me was much colder than it had been. It looked darker too, as though the moonlight above avoided this spot. It wasn’t exactly the same as when I’d sworn my original oath. Just beyond the warmth, a massive and hungry presence pressed in. I’d offered the Alder Table’s power to the dark things that chased me, and now they gathered close to warm their hands.

It was for them now, not the living. That was the price I’d paid for restoring its strength, the heresy I’d allowed to do what I had to. I’d made myself a kind of monster after all. An anathema.

With an effort of will, I commanded the presence to fall back. It did, and Delphine took a deep breath of relief as the weight on her lungs abated. The dead heeded me for the time being, but I also knew I wasn’t actually their master. This was a trade, power for power, and they would heed me only so long as I fed them.

They wouldn’t be sated with just this for long. Instinctively, I knew they would want blood in addition to soul flame. I intended to give it to them.

My newly restored senses whispered a warning. Turning, I saw Urddha walking towards us. She looked smaller than before, somehow.

“The Alder’s fire is restored,” the Saint said as she drew close. “How do you feel?”

I closed my hand into a fist a few times, flexing the fingers. “Strong. It’s different somehow, though.”

“Its shape is determined by the essence that fills it,” Urddha said. “You’ve gone with quantity instead. The shades of peasants and petty warlords won’t grant you such refined strength as the greatest of knights, which is what it was made of originally.”

I frowned. “Are you saying I still can’t use all my techniques?”

“Perhaps the ones that were most familiar to you. Your own soul has molded itself around this power, and you will always be able to intuitively wield it. But the magic has changed as its make has changed. You may have to learn some things anew.”

“I don’t have time for that now, so let’s make up the difference in other ways if we can. What do you have for me?”

Urddha’s leathery face stretched into a smile that might have been grandmotherly if it hadn’t flashed green fangs. “Three gifts, by the old traditions. Not all from me, but I’ve been holding onto them. First, you require a weapon with which to fight the battle before you.”

She reached into her threadbare shawl, which was more like a heavy cloak, and pulled out a sword. The inhumanly tall faux-angel held it easily in one hand by the blade, but it wasn’t a small weapon. It also wasn’t particularly beautiful. A modern design, the crossguard was little more than a simple bar above a grip wrapped in leather cord, with a “scent stopper” pommel shaped like a truncated pear. The dark gray blade was broad and etched with interlocking vine patterns. From pommel to tip, it looked nearly as tall as Delphine.

That wasn’t all, either. I noted the shape of the blade, particularly the point — or the lack thereof. The tip was flat.

“This is an executioner’s sword,” I said.

“Yes. You said you wanted something for the Headsman.” Urddha proffered the greatsword pommel first. “Here is a headsman’s arm. This was forged by a well known swordsmith in Isengotta near the end of the last war. I’m certain you can imagine that it was put to thorough use in those days. It has tasted much blood, not all of it from the truly guilty.” 𐍂ÃNỐᛒÈ𝒮

“It’s cursed?” I asked, hesitating before taking it.

“Thoroughly. The young man who forged it lost his entire family to the war, and he poured his hate and desire for justice into the blade.”

When I still hesitated, Urddha tutted. “I am the Saint of Curses. Did you expect any different? Master it if you do not wish to be eaten.”

I wrapped my fingers around the sword’s hilt and hefted it. It had heft. More than that, I could feel the rancid od clinging to the sword. It looked polished, but every time I blinked I felt as though it might suddenly appear coated in blood and rust. It took a moment to overcome the conflict in my senses.

“It’s not entirely practical,” I noted dryly. “I can’t thrust with it.”

“An ordinary sword will break the first time you try to wield strong Art with it. This will not. The symbolism will also be of value.”

That was true. Aura channeled better through things that engendered some kind of strong feeling in people. Urnic knights spent their fortune on beautiful weapons for more than just vanity.

This wasn’t a beautiful weapon, but it did stir feelings in me. Ugly, ambivalent feelings, but they would serve just as well. I noticed something else then and let out a pleased grunt. “The balance… it feels like my old claymos. How did you know?”

“I didn’t. This is a gift from Eanor. You were originally intended to wield this instead of the axe, but it was decided that the Executioner’s Tree would be of more value to you.”

That quieted me. I wondered if Gentle Eanor, Saint of Love and the closest thing I had to a patron amongst the Choir, had also sent ghosts to torment me in the hopes I would become a more suitable Headsman. To distract myself from the unpleasant thought, I read the inscription etched into the sword’s fuller. Written in the old Oroion script reserved for prayer, it read Through this, grant them peace.

This is an evil thing, I thought. But I may have to do evil, so perhaps it’s for the best.

“Speaking of…” Urddha produced another item from her shawl and offered it to me. “This still belongs to you.”

It was the handle of Faen Orgis. Some shards of dark metal were still embedded into it, but it looked so much less than it had been. When I took it in my left hand, I didn’t feel the usual feverish life in the oaken branch.

“That will need to be reforged,” Urddha said. “It is part of your name now. The sword is a fine tool to hunt devils, but you still require a proper instrument of doom.”

I nodded. “I’ll get it done.”

I let the broken axe sink into the shadows. Urddha turned to Delphine then. “The second gift is for you, little rebel.”

Delphine sniffed and turned her nose up. “I need no—”

Urddha opened her left hand, and in it curled the snuffling white form of an albino weasel.

“Ormur!” Delphine cried out, childlike in her shock and joy. “But how did—”

“Best not ask. Ways of angels and all that.”

Ormur scented his mistress and let out a happy squeak, all but leaping from Urddha’s hand into Delphine’s arms.

“Why?” I asked the immortal.

“She’ll need her familiar if she’s going to help you. You do still intend to see this through, right girl?”

Delphine blinked as her pet chewed at a lock of her brown hair, looking perplexed. “I… Yes, I can’t just stop here.”

“You should,” I said. “I’m going into battle. You were a crack shot with my crossbow, but that won’t help much here. What are you going to do, debate them to death?”

Delphine scowled at me. “I have more tricks. Just because I dislike violence doesn’t mean I’m defenseless. Besides, you’ll need me.”

I looked to Urddha for an explanation.

“Lias cannot go anywhere,” she told me. “I’ve given him a stay of execution until this matter resolves, but he’s bedridden. The renegade nun, on the other hand, is learned in goetic magics. She can read the Script of Zos. The hope is that you stop the crowfriars before they enact their plans, but if you cannot…”

I realized what she meant. “Delphine can use the Zoscian.” I looked at her. “Is that right?”

Delphine looked less certain than Urddha, but nodded slowly. “I’ve been talking to Lias. He cracked the code, and I have enough knowledge of infernal script to understand it. He told me that while he had it, he added the beginning of an addendum that can prevent Orkael from opening infernal portals into Urn. Small text on the lawyers document, if you will, assurance if his original plan didn’t go as intended. If I finish it, then…”

She left the statement unfinished, letting me complete it. “Then you can prevent this from happening again.”

“There are other volumens, other crowfriar missions. Best we not just kick the apple down the road, don’t you think?”

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“That’s excellent.” For the first time, I started to feel a touch of hope. That sensation drowned out the voice in the back of my head that wanted to ask why she’d learned infernal script.

Even still, I didn’t want to take her. Delphine must have seen my pensive expression, because she sighed in exasperation. “Stop trying to play the white knight. You’re wearing the wrong colors.”

I breathed out, suppressing a laugh. “I guess that’s true. Fine! But you’ll—”

“Do as you say, I know. I’m going to go pack and see if Lias is awake. Whatever information he can give me might save our lives. Everyone’s lives.”

She walked off, cooing to her weasel. I watched her go a moment.

“You are starting to become endeared to her,” Urddha said. She almost sounded pleased.

“I don’t believe she’s attracted to men, if that’s what you mean to imply, but… yes, I am starting to like her. She’s a damned fool for some kind of genius, but she’s also very brave.”

Too brave. I didn’t want the blood of another survivor from Seydis on my hands, but she was right. I could slay fiends, but I needed someone who knew how to shut the door in their face.

“Was that all three gifts?” I asked.

Urddha shook her head. “The third gift is not for you or for the little iconoclaste, and the axe already belonged to you. So does this, so I shall not take credit for it.”

She noted my confused face, and smiled mysteriously. “Listen.”

So I did, and almost on cue a sound pierced the air. It was like nothing I’d ever heard, something mournful and eerie, the last echo of a banshee’s wail married to the bugling of an elk. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, made my heart beat faster. Somewhere deep inside me, there was a naked thing shivering in a cave and hoping whatever made that sound hadn’t caught my scent.

Urddha lifted a gnarled finger to point towards the edge of the meadow. “Go and see.”

I walked to the edge of the mossy field and cautiously looked over the lip of the walking tree’s branch. Down in the twisted woods and foggy ravines below the onsolain’s abode, I saw a black shape loping alongside us. It screamed again, and I realized why I hadn’t recognized that sound. I’d only ever heard her hiss or purr. An involuntary smile tugged at the edge of my lip.

“Morgause.”

The chimera Rosanna entrusted to me had done as I’d ordered, and waited in the hills beyond Tol. She’d fed herself on other beasts and waited for me to come out, but I hadn’t because I’d gone through the mirror. So, with my scent in her nostrils, the scadumare went into the recesses of reality as well.

“Do you even know what that is?” Urddha had asked me as we stood together atop the tree.

“A rare breed of chimera,” I guessed, though I wasn’t really sure of much besides what Rosanna and Faisa had told me. “Created by continental alchemists. The best are very jealous of their recipes, I hear.”

“That is no vat-born mimicry,” Urddha said. “The Scadumare were true horses once, the steeds of knights in ancient days who survived the loss of their riders. They wandered into the wastelands beyond mortal kingdoms and changed. They became undead things, blood drinkers and soul eaters.”

I shook my head. “I would have sensed if my own mount was vampiric. My powers haven’t been that crippled.”

Then again, I hadn’t known what Fidei was until the end either. How she’d hidden her true nature from me and every other paladin, cleric, and spirit in Seydis remained a mystery.

“This animal is a lesser descendent of those monsters,” Urddha explained. “They bred with other beasts and became chimeric. This one was captured from the wild as a foal and tamed, no doubt, much as such a creature can be. They are long lived, and some can traverse the spirit world as easily as the mortal one. This one learned how to do so in order to find its lost master. It has chosen you.”

“She lost her sister not long ago.”

“Such beasts forge lifelong bonds. This one will not let you stray far again, I think.”

With that, I prepared to leave. I donned my oft-repaired chainmail, which had served me so well since Irn Bale gave it to me at Caelfall. Next came the steel plate I’d had commissioned after the tournament in Garihelm. Over the armor went my black surcoat, and over that my belt with the hangman’s tree, my personal mark, displayed on its front. I tightened every strap, sheathed my rondel dagger in its leather case, and settled my blood colored Briar cloak over my shoulders. The new sword was too large to sheath at my hip, so it went without scabbard onto my back with the help of an iron ring, tucked under my cloak with the hilt angled behind my right shoulder.

Delphine looked like some kind of mad physiker when she reappeared. Covered in a long robe such a dark brown it was nearly black, she wore a number of satchels and pouches, including some supplies in a thong hung from her shoulders. She’d adopted a heavy scarf against the winter cold we’d be forging back into, wrapping it about her head like a shawl. Ormur peaked out of this, his red eyes glinting by the woman’s cheek.

It almost resembled an improvised approximation of a nun’s habit, but I didn’t comment on it. I also noted she held a bundle in her hands, larger than my head and wrapped in what looked like silver cord.

“Well,” she told me. “You look terrifying.”

I nodded gravely. “What’s that?” I pointed at the bundle.

“The third gift,” she said and did not elaborate.

I turned to the door. Movement in the room made me stop. I kept myself from looking at the corner.

“This is my fault,” Lias croaked. I knew he’d stood by the creaking of floorboards. “I should go with you to stop it.”

“And get a chance to see your mad scheme through? Sorry Li, but you’re already an arrogant bastard. I couldn’t handle you as a god.”

“You might need me,” he insisted.

I did look back then. The wizard was using his staff to support himself, and the effort of standing seemed to be torment. He wore his cloak over bare shoulders, but I could see the burning sigils torturing his flesh.

“No,” I said. “You can barely walk, and I can’t be slowed down. Morgause can only carry two, anyway.”

Lias let out a weary sigh. “Then… I shall see you after.”

I hesitated, then gave him a stiff nod. We both knew what after would look like. There’d be no more putting it off then. I turned to the door and left Lias behind.

The tree stopped its long march. The air had grown cold, and the stars above looked more familiar. Though the wilderness retained an unnatural quality, I knew we’d drawn close to the edge.

But there was one more task before I fully returned to the waking world.

Morgause carried us from the valleys formed by the behemoth tree’s roots. I refused to look back, and Delphine sensed my mood and did not break the silence. My scadumare lacked the doctor’s sensitivity, and had tried to take some of my fingers when I’d reached out to pet her, displaying her anger at being left alone.

“I know,” I’d murmured to the mare. “I won’t do that again. Could have used you when I fought Ildeban.”

Morgause just showed her fangs and then let me mount.

We traveled for some time, and eventually I did look back to find the tree gone. I swore I could still see an impression of it on the horizon, like my eyes reeled at its absence and tried to fill it in.

“So what’s the plan?” Delphine asked. She pressed close against my backplate, and I got the sense she wasn’t used to riding. “Ride into the city like Death’s own shadow and kill anything that looks at you funny?”

“Not quite.”

Even restored, I wasn’t about to tackle the entire Credo and any soldiers who got between us alone. I felt strong, but there were always bigger fish. I remembered Siriks, who’d been one of the strongest foes I’d ever clashed with despite being little more than a teenager. This new era of conflict was forging monsters, and who knew what this new crusade had attracted?

Besides, I wanted to avoid being forced to kill anyone who wasn’t my enemy.

“Then?” Delphine asked.

“I set something up back in Tol. I’m going to see if its paid off.”

Urddha had deposited us at the edge of the wilderness some miles from Baille Os, capital of Osheim. Morgause cantered along a woodland road not fully covered by snowfall. The stars were out, as were the moons, providing illumination to the forest shadows. The deeper woods were threateningly dark, as though resentful of the clear night sky. I pulled my mount to a stop when I sensed that atmosphere thicken.

Delphine shivered against my back, perhaps detecting an echo of what my enhanced senses warned me of.

I didn’t say anything, just waited. Morgause’s pointed ears flicked to an upright position, her ruby eyes fixed on the night. Ormur’s near constant excited chittering had gone silent from where he hid inside Delphine’s cowl.

Then, from the darkness, a voice. “It’s a cold night to walk these empty roads, travelers. Aren’t you afraid of wolves?”

I glanced to the right, and there saw the bright gleam of two green eyes shining in the darkness like a nocturnal animal’s.

I tilted my head in greeting. “I’m glad the Keeper got my message.”

A form detached itself from the night. For a moment my heart quickened, because I thought at first that Catrin had returned from her journey abroad and found me here.

But it wasn’t her. The woman who stepped forward was taller than Cat, with darker hair and more angular features. It took me a moment to recognize her.

“Eilidh.” It was the Backroad’s lone human worker, only…

She wasn’t human anymore.

She’d become paler and leaner. Her eyes, which had been a pleasant green before, now looked too pale and retained that nocturnal shine where the pupil should be. The brown hair that tumbled around her shoulders had lost some color too, showing almost yellow streaks. Her willowy frame teased itself beneath the sway of loose burgundy skirts as she stepped to the edge of the moonlight with an unsettling grace.

Eilidh flashed long fangs at me. “Maybe. I’m not quite so sure these nights.”

Delphine shifted against my back. Eilidh’s uncanny eyes flicked to her and seemed to grow even brighter. “And what’s this warm thing? Have you brought it to us as an offering?”

“Alken…” Delphine whispered nervously. “I think that’s a—”

“Vampire, I know.” I took a deep breath. “Come now, Eilidh. You’re laying it on a bit thick.”

Though I kept my tone light, inwardly I cringed at her appearance and words. I’d tried not to think about how I’d allowed the creatures of the Backroad Inn to make this poor woman one of them, and part of me had tried to comfort that guilt by insisting that it might not be so bad. Catrin was a kind of vampire, and we’d gotten along well after I’d overcome my initial distrust.

But I didn’t see the tired, well-humored barmaid I’d interacted with on occasion. This creature made my skin crawl with apprehension. My magic echoed that sensation, though it felt muted somehow. It did not fill me with a righteous eagerness to fight, only acknowledged the vampire’s presence.

Eilidh touched one of her fangs with a bright red tongue, her uncanny eyes remaining fixed on Delphine. “So she’s not for us?”

I shivered as the threatening sensation in the air suddenly doubled. There were more shining eyes in the darkness. I could feel Delphine’s fear, and knew they could too.

“Alken,” Delphine asked me. “Who is she? Why are we here? I don’t like this.”

Neither did I. I was starting to think I’d made a terrible mistake. This stank of a trap, and that the Keeper had put Eilidh forward like this… He knew I must have regretted what happened to her. What I’d allowed to happen.

“Don’t be afraid, poppet.” Eilidh’s wolfish grin widened. “We can smell it.”

I inhaled through my nose and dismounted. I landed heavily on the frozen road in a crunch of snow and clink of steel, then started to approach Eilidh at a steady clip. She tensed and took a step back, baring her wicked fangs.

“Hurt me,” she snarled, “and the rest will tear you apart.”

I could sense them all around us, like the entire forest had suddenly clenched its muscles. If they decided to attack, they’d close in like a tidal wave of fangs and claws. My better sense screamed that this was a damn foolish thing to do, but I ignored it and them. This had sat with me ever since that night, and I needed to know.

So I walked right up to Eilidh despite the atmosphere of threat, and threw my arms around the angry vampire to pull her into a tight hug.

Eilidh went completely rigid in my arms and let out a small exhalation of surprise. Her hands moved to shove me away, but I embraced her tightly and spoke into her hair.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, Eilidh. I know Cat would be happy too.”

She remained stiff at first, then relaxed and after a moment’s hesitation returned the embrace with a sigh. Her voice sounded more normal when she spoke again and less like a hungry beast mimicking it. “It’s good to see you too, Al. Some of us thought you’d died in Tol.”

I had to swallow the emotion bubbling up in my chest. “How have you been?”

She pulled away from me, her bright eyes narrowing. “Dead.”

I winced, and she laughed. “But otherwise fine. It’s been easy to distract myself with everything happening. Sorry for menacing you.”

“It’s alright.” I clasped her shoulders, trying to hide my elation and not quite succeeding. “So my message went through your brother?”

Eilidh’s bemused expression soured. “Yes, it went through.”

“He survived the battle?”

“Of course. Celan’s a roach, he’ll survive the end of the world.” She sighed. “My eldest brother was in Baille Os, attending the king, so he was never in any danger. The whole region is in uproar over the attack. They say there were demons in Tol.”

“Demons. Angels. Elves. It was like an image of armageddon.” I nodded to the trees. “So you brought the pack with you?”

She nodded, but then her eyes took on that hungry glint again. I remembered that look from Catrin, and knew what it meant. “Um… can you let me go now? You’re very warm, and it’s making me want to drain you.”

“Ah. Right.” I took my hands from her shoulders and stepped back. Eilidh let out a sigh of relief, and disappointment. “Keeper’s just ahead. He wants to talk to you.”

I nodded and returned to my chimera. Delphine was watching the vampire warily. “What was that about? You two are friends? She seemed ready to tear out our throats before.”

“Friend of a friend. I was just very happy to see her well.”

Delphine furrowed her brow. “Well?”

“Yes,” I affirmed. I’d been worried that the real Eilidh died that night in the inn, and to know she was still in there was a revelation. Catrin wasn’t unique, and if that were the case then…

It changed so much. It made my responsibility greater, but I realized that I didn’t mind.

“Let’s go.” I took Morgause’s reins. “We have a meeting with a devil.”

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