Authors: Laszlo,Jeremy
The orcs all jumped back from their previous concealment, hefting their spears as if to attack.
“No need for that,” Seth told them, but Sara was uncertain if they understood. Continuing to watch, the orc who had returned gestured towards the guards to lower their weapons and motioned for Sara and her companions to follow. They did, at a distance, as the guards fell in behind them.
“You’ve found them,” Seth said, grinning at both Sara and Borrik.
“We did,” Sara said, looking all about her at the buildings and roads all carved from the mountainside. “Were you able to discover what it was that you were looking for?”
“I did. It presents some problems, and I’m not certain I am yet ready to face what I have to do… But if I don’t do it now, the chance may never present itself again.”
“You mean to face your brother?” Borrik asked.
Sara turned to watch Seth’s expression, which suddenly turned grim. He was burdened beyond measure by whatever it was he was planning. She hoped that after all was said and done he could live with himself.
“In a sense, yes. There are so many threads that I have to unravel and choose the proper course to guide them to make this happen. It is complex beyond comprehension. I know the pieces of the puzzle. I’m just not certain I can put them together in the correct alignment.”
“And us being here… Is that part of the puzzle?” Sara asked, confused.
“The ruler here is. I need him.”
“Why?” Borrik questioned. “Could you not just take Garret’s blessing from him?”
“I could, but Garret is just a distraction from the real enemy here. The man up there,” Seth pointed to a towering spire above the city, “he commands an army that will give my brother pause, hopefully long enough to do what I came to.”
“So you need the ruler of this city for his army to prevent a war?” Sara asked, thinking she was finally figuring it out.
“More or less. If all goes as I wish, in a few weeks’ time, all will be as it should. Only if the gods do not meddle.”
“Ishanya deemed that I build an army in her name, so by doing as she wished, I hope to prevent her tampering. My brother amasses an army to attack me, and I will meet him with one of my own. I’ve sent messengers to our allies already, and they march east towards the southern reaches of Valdadore. All the pieces are set. Now we see if I understand the game well enough to win.”
“What will you offer the king of this castle in return for his army?” Sara questioned.
“His life.”
That was it. She could see the determination in Seth’s face. Seth had made up his mind to kill. He hated killing. He had chosen to break his own heart, to feed the gods’ power, as a means to reach his own goal. She hoped it did not come to that. She hoped whatever ruler they were meeting was wise enough to see Seth for what he was and give him what he desired.
“His life might not be easy to take. The orcs at the gate said he could raise the dead.”
It took nearly an hour to reach the base of the spire where they mounted steep steps and began to climb. Sara knew the ruler would be at the top. Why be sensible and be on the first floor? No such luck. It would be easy to take wing and reach the top in seconds, but no, they had to walk at an orc pace which was painfully slow. It would be another two hours before they stopped climbing. The inventor of stairs needed a serious beating. As they took the first step, a commotion to their left stopped them in their tracks. There, running down the unevenly carved stone road, came an unusual looking orc. He was tall but not as well muscled as the others. He wore a humanesque outfit of trousers and tunic, although atop that he wore necklaces of bones, feathers, and teeth. Oddly to Sara, she almost felt as if she recognized him. Not his appearance, but his awkward gait. It was as if she had seen him before.
Down the road the orc came, shouting and waving his arms. Sara looked to the contingent of orcs guiding them, and found they too had paused. As the peculiar Orc came nearer, those leading Sara and her companions grunted to him in their own guttural language. Looking back and forth between the newcomer and all those around her, she found a peculiar look on her husband’s face. He was concentrating, trying to figure something out. Sara watched as her husband sprang forward, the orc guards all around them too slow to stop him.
Seth lunged, raising his hands towards the peculiar orc, wrapping his arms about the creature and patting it on the back. Sara was at a loss.
“Ashton, dear friend. In the name of the gods, how on Thurr is this possible?” Seth greeted.
Sara’s jaw fell slack. She had known the awkward gait of the orc, but how was it possible? Could it truly be the Ashton she knew? The Ashton who had been there when her world had fallen apart and who had helped to rescue her from a life of selling her body?
The orc grinned, clinging to her husband and even hefting him off the ground in his tight embrace. It was him. It was Ashton. But if this was Ashton… then who on Thurr was with Garret?
* * * * *
Ashton hugged his friend, a friend he was certain he’d never see again. Not in this life, anyhow. There was so much to say, so much to explain, but there was little time. He had hoped to never have to make this choice. Gnak had stolen him from his people, but he had treated him well. Among the orcs Ashton was a powerful man who held the ear of their chief. He was Gnak’s head advisor. But Seth was his friend. Sara was his friend. There were different levels of loyalty, and Ashton sided with his blood. His real blood.
“There is much I need to tell you,” Ashton began. “But there is little time. There are three kings at the top of this tower, but only one mind controls them. He is a powerful necromancer, Seth. He can steal your essence right out of your body without warning and do as he pleases with it. That is how I ended up like this,” he said raising his hands. “He’s been waiting for you. Ishanya has commanded him to destroy you.”
Ashton watched as Seth nodded, his demeanor changing. Gone was his smile and in its place a steely mask of resolve. Seth was preparing himself for battle. Ashton could see it. By the looks on Sara’s and the great wolven warrior’s face, they knew it too.
“Thank you, my dear friend. I would feel more comfortable if you remained here, well away, where it is safe.”
“What if you need a healer?” Ashton asked.
“I haven’t needed one of those for some time now. Just be patient, and when I return I’ll remedy this as well,” Seth said, waving his hand in gesture to Ashton’s orc body. The words were fast. The gesture was fast. Seth had changed. He exuded power. Staring at him was peculiar in itself. It was as if he were not quite solid, as if he vibrated at extreme speeds as all his edges were slightly blurred. He believed his friend. If Seth did not need a healer, he’d stay out of the way.
“Do you anticipate a fight?” Ashton asked one final question.
“I wish I could say no, but it seems it is the will of the gods.”
“Then don’t give him time, don’t play his games. Make it swift.”
* * * * *
Seth entered the vaulted room ahead of his companions, already aware of what awaited him. Eyeing the fifty wolven men, his gaze settled on that which he knew was his true opponent. This was the blessed warrior gifted as a means to destroy him, but Seth did not know how, precisely, his gift worked. He’d never seen a blessing like the one of this champion. It was vaguely familiar, similar to his own in a way, but he could not predict the man’s abilities beyond that of Ashton’s warning that the orc was a necromancer.
Eyeing the orc cautiously, he knew not what the creature had been through. He was scarred all over, looking about the room with only one good eye, the other milky and blind. His fingers had been burned back, exposing charred meat and bone. He was hideous to behold and by all Seth could see, he should have been dead. Such was the life of the blessed, however, that he continued on after mere mortals would have fallen.
“Seth Derringer,” the orc greeted. “I knew we’d meet soon. I’d not expected it would be here, but I knew the day was approaching.”
Seth was at a loss. This creature knew who he was and had expected a meeting. It was more information than Seth had been given. He had been forced to work it all out on his own. Was his plan already in shambles? Was Ishanya prepared for this? Had she seen it coming? There was no way to know. All he could do was stick to the plan.
“I came seeking an alliance, but see your loyalties may already lie elsewhere.”
“With your brother?” the orc asked. “So it may seem, but why then would I invite you in?”
“I don’t have the power to know your mind, King of Orcs, perhaps you could enlighten me,” Seth said, surprised by the creature’s control of the common tongue.
“I invited you to see what you were capable of. You see, Death Mage, I
can
read minds.”
Seth was watching the man’s aura waiting for any sign of danger, and seeing the tiny flare, he watched it leave the orc and vanish into the Lycan behind him and to his left. Seth didn’t react. He studied the process, and waited.
“You see, Demon King, I am no one, and I am everyone,” the Lycan spoke, the spark of the orc’s aura leaving it again, jumping back into the orc, whose features became animated once more. “I’ve learned much about Valdadore through these Lycans, and I think I may take it once you and your brother have been destroyed.” The orc jumped again.
Seth reached out and snuffed the life of the Lycan the orc had targeted, leaving naught but a settling pile of ash where before a living being had been. Another Lycan sprang forward towards him, the orc having chosen another body. Then they all charged as if of one mind. Seth expected it. It was the same with his own wolven troops. In an instant, he absorbed the auras of all the Lycans as ash swirled around the room, spears clattering to the floor.
“I’m not so easy to dispatch,” Seth exclaimed. Give me your army, and you shall live.”
The orc jumped again, and Seth cringed as Borrik unleashed a deafening roar, summoning his blessing and exploding in size. A second pair of arms protruded from his sides, growing and becoming more defined as great fireballs formed in his palms. Seth knew Borrik’s tactics and absorbed the power from the fireballs before they were even cast.
“Then lose your body,” Seth said, pointing at the throne as the orc king’s body turned to ash.
“You cannot kill me,” Borrik roared. Seth shut off Borrik’s blessing as the great wolf man shriveled with a pop.
“No, but I can take away his blessing.” The orc jumped again, and an ancient troll came lumbering out from a chamber beyond as Borrik collapsed seemingly lifeless to the ground. Seth wasn’t worried, the necromancer had taken Borrik with him when he vacated the body, surely searching Borrik’s memories for a weakness. Seth was not yet afraid as the creature gained momentum. It was a wrinkled thing with arthritic knees, large and thick, surely once a very intimidating being, but no more. Seth was already tired of the game.
The king of Drakenhurst understood what was going on. The necromancer could move his consciousness into the bodies of other beings, accessing their thoughts and memories. He could pluck them out of their bodies as well. Seth had done similar not long ago, putting his own life, consciousness, and abilities into another body, then remaking the body in his own image. The orc was not as talented. Reaching out with his power, Seth ripped the orc and all those lives he carried within him from the body of the troll. The body, like Borrik’s, lived, but there was no spark of intelligence, no soul within it to drive it. Within himself Seth held the spark of the orc and he combined it with his own, feeling the abilities, the memories, and the desires of the foreign being. Using the orc’s own trick, he learned of Jen, of becoming the Big Chief, of hijacking the bodies of the troll king and a goblin king. The ploy was up, and so was Seth’s patience.
Keeping the orc within him, captive, Seth allowed the creature to see through his own eyes for a moment as he stripped Borrik away, and returned him to his own flesh. Seth and the being known as Gnak, within him, watched as the crouching form of Sara stopped beating on the wolf man’s chest, as Borrik’s eyes fluttered and he gasped for air. But Seth wasn’t done.
Pointing across the room, he pulled power from his own aura and began shaping it as wisps of power became smoke which became bones and flesh and skin. Created from his own mind and power, an empty shell of a body sat upon the throne; it was a wretched thing to behold, scarred and burned beyond understanding. Seth let Gnak look out at his own body across the room and then snuffed out his life, his spark, his soul for all time. Having consumed the orc’s original body, there was nothing left of the creature’s aura to send back to Ishanya. Pity.
“Watch this,” Seth warned Sara and Borrik. “I’ve learned a new trick.”
Seth no longer needed Gnak to command his new army. Shifting his being into the empty shell of the orc, Seth bowed before his companions who both stood perplexed, largely unaware of all that had transpired.
Shouting towards the stairs, Seth found his new voice harsh and unfamiliar. His tongue was heavy. His tusks were in the way. Even so, within seconds a goblin runner appeared.
“Gather every fighting man and woman we have,” Seth said through Gnak’s mouth. “We march to war in the morning.”