Episode 14: Standstill
Written by: Tehri and Auraboo
Back to the Archive | << Previous | Next >>
The stairs in the tower were not as untouched as the rest of the city. While lower sections of them were built of solid stone, almost as though they had been pulled by way of magic from the very matter the tower was built with, the higher parts were of wood that had begun to take damage from the elements. Windows had been smashed, letting in wind and rain, and rot had begun to claim the uppermost sections, making the stairs treacherous at best and impassable at worst.
Tariya led the way as the group slowly climbed up, often pausing to try to find solid footing. It was a difficult business, but she stubbornly urged the others to step only where she did and nowhere else. Only when they reached the very last stretch did she resort to using rope in order to ensure that they would all be able to reach the top, though both she and Lily voiced some mild concerns about the heavier members of their party.
Of course, neither Luzem nor Tamrus were willing to be left behind. Luzem would go where his sister went, always, as they all knew; and Tamrus felt much too uneasy to remain behind, be it on the stairs or at the tower’s entrance.
Something about their ascent in the building had the dwarf on edge. Something felt off. Whether it was the building itself or merely trepidation over what they would find, he didn’t know, but there was that coil of dread around his throat again, curling tighter and tighter the higher they went. It was as though there was a scent in the air that called to that unending hunger and made it gnaw furiously at his gut, yet without it being the scent of blood and meat.
Now, as he finally heaved himself over the edge of the landing after having climbed up the rope, that strange sensation stung more than earlier.
Yet the room they found at the top of the tower, at the far end of the landing, was empty.
Empty and cold and long abandoned, much like the rest of the city, save for the remains of a bedroll spread out in a corner. Perhaps it had once been used as a secluded resting place by whoever had inhabited the tower, or perhaps one of the missing travellers had passed here. But now, nothing else remained.
“Nothing.” Kae sounded disappointed, not to mention annoyed. “We climbed all the way up here for nothing. That’s great.”
“Focus, idiot.” Kajo stepped into the room, giving their warlock a somewhat disdainful glare as they went. “There is something – but it’s faint, and old.” They glanced around, taking in the empty space. Perhaps they had expected some physical signs of spellwork, or perhaps they merely assessed the space available; whichever it was, they seemed satisfied with only a cursory glance around. “There’s the same hunger as in the rest of the city, sunk into the very stone of the tower. But there’s a presence also. That hunger made manifest. Yet it must have been long since that manifestation left this place.”
Hunger made manifest. Tamrus felt nearly sick from that thought alone as he reluctantly stepped into the room.
Dwarves were not overly sensitive to magic. Arguments had been made in the past that they must have been created by it, but if such rumours were true, then nothing remained in their blood after millennia upon millennia of development.
But entering that room, the fire-bearded dwarf felt that hunger beckoning to him, felt it caressing and tugging at his senses, plucking at him as an idle bard would the strings of their lute. Gone was the dread, replaced so suddenly with a feeling of want, of need, of yearning, so strong that it would’ve had the most seasoned of chaste priests cave within moments to its sweet call. Months with nary a bite to eat, it seemed to whisper, but such a feast so close by! Food and drink aplenty, tender meat that would melt in one’s mouth and the sweetest of drinks, viscous and red, so deliciously warm in the biting cold, more than one could ever want for.
A hand connected with the back of Tamrus’s head, followed closely by a boot thrown at him.
“Tamrus! Snap out of it, you big lug!”
The dwarf blinked, and the world reluctantly came back into focus. Kajo stood beside him, watching him warily, their hand still raised. Lily stood in the doorway, one hand on the hilt of her dagger and one foot bare on the floor. The others seemed equally tense, though perhaps more confused than anything, and yet Luzem had stepped in front of his sister with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Even Kae seemed ready to let loose at a moment’s notice.
“You were growling,” Lily informed him tersely when she seemed satisfied that he was more or less back to himself. “And drooling.”
Tamrus grimaced and drew one hand over his face as though to wipe away how that hunger beckoned. His hand did indeed come away wet with saliva, only making his grimace worsen.
“You said it’s faint and old,” he grumbled, glancing up at Kajo. “It doesn’t feel like that to me.”
“There are but faint traces of the hunger, and the presence is long departed,” the god responded, their tone testy and tense. “I can only assume that you’re responding somehow to the presence itself, rather than anything else.”
“That’s fascinating,” breathed Kae, suddenly rushing to get closer to Tamrus, circling him and watching him intently. Doubtlessly he would’ve been touching him as well, checking his pulse and perhaps examining his eyes, if not for how his companion glared at him and swatted after him as though he were an annoying fly. “Do you feel it still? What did it feel like? How long does it usually take between when you first sense it and when you shift? Is it always possible to interrupt the shift, like Kajo and Lily just did? Can—”
“Now is not the time,” Lily snapped, swiftly following the warlock to give his arm a smack. “Let’s just have a quick look around and get out of here. And Tamrus, you wait out on the landing.”
The dwarf certainly didn’t argue as the halvling shooed him out from the room; he was grateful indeed to not have to stay in there with the beckoning hunger howling in his head, not to mention not having to answer any more questions Kae may have.
But there truly didn’t seem to be much of interest within the room aside from what they could see with the naked eye. No traces of spellwork, according to what Kae and Kajo could find, and Lily could quickly let the others know that there were no hidden doors or little spaces to stash things, no hollows or niches anywhere.
Only one thing did they find, and it was Luzem who suddenly waved over his sister to the bedroll, shifting it to the side to let her look at whatever he’d found.
The druid leaned forward, sniffing the air, only to jerk back as though whatever she’d smelled had burned her nose. She glanced at her brother and wrinkled her nose, giving him a nod: this was indeed the source of the smell she’d followed to the tower, or at least a part of it.
“We found something,” Luzem announced to the others. “It looks like… like a patch of fur, I think. But I’m not sure that it’s from an animal…”
“It reeks of the same smell I was following,” Tariya muttered as Kajo approached them to take a look at their find.
Kajo crouched down, eyeing the small patch of fur curiously. It looked unremarkable; a simple patch of coarse brown fur, without anything showing what it may have come from. But it did indeed carry the same scent, something heavy with an undertone of blood – and more than that, it reeked also of magic, of the same hunger that permeated the entirety of Altùin.
Their thoughts turned to the rumours they had heard, to the sketch that still sat hidden away in one of the pockets of their cloak. The sketch had been little more than a silhouette, though enough to unnerve the dwarf and make him agree to go to Altùin. That, in combination with this little find, told Kajo that the rumours of the strange beast spotted in Callanwater must be true.
“Whatever this came from,” they said, their voice soft and yet seemingly echoing in the small room, “it moved on long ago and hasn’t been here since. But it is proof, of a sort.”
The morose silence of the little forest camp was interrupted in the early gray hours of the morning. It was two days since they’d quit Altùin for good, two days since scaling the tower, with nothing but vague leads to show for their efforts, and now a long, exhausting road paved with uncertainties extended before them once more.
In one of the tents Luzem cracked open one eye at the sound of raised voices, settling his head back down on his folded cloak upon recognising Kae’s. There was only one person the warlock would ever raise his voice at, and Luzem wanted no part in whatever spat he and his so-called operator now had brewing between them.
There was no blocking out the voices, though, not when they were coming from the next tent over.
It was a cramped space for two people, the roof hanging low enough that Kajo could not comfortably sit without risking their horns getting stuck in the canvas, which was just as well. They did not need rest the way mortals did, and very little in the tent spoke of their presence. Kae’s things were strewn all over haphazardly while what few things Kajo physically carried with them remained tucked neatly in the small backpack next to the pillows.
All but one, that was. Kae watched as they fastened the travelling cloak around their shoulders, the two identical scars on their back vanishing from view.
”What do you mean you’re leaving?” he repeated for what felt like the third time.
”Temporarily, idiot, as I just stated. We need more information.”
Kae rolled his eyes. ”Obviously. Isn’t that why we’re here in the first place? To investigate?”
”You know we’ve exhausted whatever Altùin has to tell. I don’t know why you’re making a scene out of nothing,” Kajo replied, adjusting the cloak, and stepped out in the snowfall.
Kae followed them out of the tent, a note of disbelief to his voice when he said, ”we’re sitting ducks here without you, you know that!”
”As your little druid friend mentioned, there is nothing in these parts worse than wolves. We are far away enough from the city that its corruption cannot touch us,” Kajo said dismissively, feet leaving deep prints in the snow.
”If that bloody creature exists—”
”Then rely on your magic. What are you, a warlock or a mouse? This once you’ve my permission to use whatever means necessary should the need arise.”
”Hadn’t we already agreed that we’ll make for Callanwater next?”
Luzem lifted his head again. In doing so he became aware of something shifting next to him and realised that Tariya was still curled up against his back, which was unusual so close to sunrise. She sat up, blinking blearily, and pressed a finger to her lips when she noticed that he, too, was awake and listening.
”We’ll be weeks on the road if we are to travel by mortal means in these conditions,” Kajo replied, their tone clipped. ”If we are to go down that path, I want to be utterly sure it is the only one available to us.”
The promise of rain that had hung heavy over the moors of Altùin for weeks on end had at last been fulfilled as the temperatures had plummeted over the past two nights. They had awoken to find their tents blanketed under a thin cover of snow the previous day; it now reached Kae to mid-calf. The trees could have been coated in sugar had he not felt the cold biting at his cheeks.
Kajo pulled the fur-trimmed hood over their head, leaving just their horns poking out from under the rim. They received a dusting of fresh snow within seconds. Their breath turned the air white momentarily, though they did not feel the cold the way the others did. Even after all those centuries remnants of infernal fire still burned hot in their veins, keeping winter at bay. They strode out of the camp without a backwards glance, cloak fanning behind them in the breeze. Kae followed suit, swearing as snow trickled inside his boots.
The yellowed grasses poked out of the light dusting of snow under the cover of the ancient firs. Kajo stopped and turned at their heels, facing Kae. Their expression was unusually solemn as they placed a hand on his forearm.
”You’ve little to worry about. I know you’re capable,” Kajo said, wind whipping strands of their rose-coloured hair about. ”Stay put and stay alert in my absence.”
The fight went out of him at the finality in their voice. Kae sighed. ”I’d ask to come with, but I can tell it’s of no use.”
Kajo withdrew their hand, taking their warmth with it. The world felt ten times colder once it was gone. ”Your friends have greater need of your talents than I.”
”Pray be quick, then.”
”It’ll be a couple of days at best.”
”I’ll hold you to that,” Kae said, his voice subdued.
The moment they stood there facing each other could have been an eternity, yet it was over in the matter of seconds. Kae avoided Kajo’s gaze, staring everywhere but their face. Eventually Kajo turned away, already shaking back their left sleeve. The scar – four-pointed star inside an uneven circle – on their skin burned red hot as though fresh, enveloping them with an otherwordly glow. It turned their outlines strangely blurry. The afterimage burned at Kae’s eyes as if he’d stared at the sun for too long.
He watched Kajo vanish among the trees. They were gone as soon as he blinked, vanished into thin air without a sound, their footprints ending abruptly, leading to nowhere. The bond between them told him nothing. Even apart there was always a certain pull to it, as if an invisible hand were holding the leash and keeping it taut, always, except this time. There was just silence, more deafening than that of the slumbering woodlands around them.
He was aware of someone approaching, though snow muffled most sounds. He was not entirely surprised to hear Lily’s voice addressing him, saying, ”why the long face?”
Kae sighed again, tail flicking back and forth in what Lily had learned to read as frustration. ”Isn’t it obvious? Seriously, leaving at a time like this…”
”You heard them. It’s just for a couple of days.”
”You know time behaves differently in the Beyond. Months can feel like hours. What’s a few weeks here or there for an immortal?”
”Gods,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. She smacked his thigh when he remained rooted to the spot, still staring into the woods as if hoping something would materialise from the shadows. ”Chin up. So we get a day or two to collect our thoughts, big deal. Don’t you want breakfast?”
He slapped her hand away, then started, just as taken aback by his sudden harshness as Lily was. He stepped away from her. ”I… Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He looked away, muttering, ”leave me alone, will you? I’m not in the mood.”
Instead of returning to camp he stomped away in the woods, hands in his pockets and head bent in the wind. She blinked at his retreating back and shouted, ”blame yourself if there’s nothing but crumbs left when you get back!”
He did not answer.
Two days became three, then four. Snow continued to fall, wet and heavy, effectively cutting them off the rest of the world until it felt as if the five of them had suddenly become the only living beings on the entire continent. The thought was not cheerful so close to Altùin.
If the inactivity had left Tamrus tense, it was nothing to how it affected Kae. He had done as his god instructed and remained at camp, though for all the company he was he might as well have been absent, too. He scarcely spoke, and when he did, there was no real emotion behind it. It was like speaking to an automaton; his answers were short and mechanical, and he spent most of his time poring over his notes.
”Like a lovesick godsdamned puppy,” Lily muttered on the fifth morning, watching from the mouth of her tent as the hellning stood staring into nothingness at the edge of their camp. He could have been made of stone had wind not played with his curls.
”What are you mumbling about?” Tamrus asked. He had hardly slept since Kajo’s departure, the memory of what had happened in the tower haunting every second of his rest, and he looked it, too.
”The epitome of wordly misery over there,” Lily said flatly, gesturing. ”He’s been so restless it’s starting to drive me up the wall, too.”
”He has every reason to be on edge in this godsforsaken place.”
Lily bit back her retort. There was a time and place for filling Tamrus in on what he was so obviously blind to, but this was not it. He had quite enough on his plate already without whatever sordid nonsense two of their companions had going on between them.
Whatever Kae was doing, it made the air feel heavy. Lily was no warlock, but she had seen him wield magic often enough to recognise the signs, knew how his god’s magic differed from hers, though it was not hers to touch. She could feel an echo of it whenever Kae tapped into it, an itch somewhere underneath her sternum, gone almost as soon as she became aware of it. She saw his shoulders sag as he let go of it. With a sigh she got to her feet.
It went against her own damn principles, but there was no helping it, not when he made such a pathetic fucking sight.
”You’ve really got it bad, huh?” she said upon reaching him, keeping her voice low enough that none of the others heard her.
Kae blinked, shaken out of his reverie. He looked mildly confused to find her standing beside him. ”You say something?”
”Don’t worry your pretty little head.” She squinted up at him. Hells, he looked almost as bad as Tamrus did, dark circles and all. ”So what’s eating you this time?”
”They’re late.”
”As you yourself said they might be, might I remind you.”
”It’s not just that.” Kae rubbed at his chest, expression contorting. ”There’s this thing… Well, it’s more like that there isn’t. A lack thereof, really. And it’s supposed to be there.”
”What in the name of the Hells are you talking about?”
”Give me a moment. It’s hard to put into words.” Sharp teeth worried at his lip as he thought. ”The pact left a permanent bond between us – myself and Kajo, that is. A tether. I could be on the other side of the bloody realms and I’d still feel it, or should feel, anyway. Except it’s not been there since they left, and I can’t figure out why.”
”I know they can talk to you when you’re apart,” Lily said. ”Can’t you do the same in reverse?”
”That’s the thing. I’ve been trying, and it’s not working.” He went back to pacing, tail flicking snow this way and that. ”That has never happened before, Lily, and it’s been what, 14 years? I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”
Neither did she, though she thought it best not to mention it. She thought back on Savrosil, on the ruby Kae had procured for her in the ruins, and said, ”so try contacting them the usual way, then. You can do that, can’t you?”
”The usual way?”
She resisted the urge to groan. ”Make an offering, you dolt. There’s an altar in the copse, remember?”
”I guess.” He did not sound too thrilled about it. ”What do I offer, though? I’ve nothing of value with me.”
”How am I supposed to know? Sacrifice a virgin, slaughter a goat, dance in circles around the bonfire, anything! Come on,” she said, giving him a push when he would not budge. ”Give it a shot or quit moping.”
”Well, should I find any eligible virgins about you’ll be the first to know. You might be able to fix them,” he muttered, but Lily saw the ghost of a smile return to his face. He was already rummaging in his pockets. ”Candles, check. I guess that’s better than nothing.”
They trudged out of the camp, over a frozen brook and across a small forest clearing that might have once upon a time been a paddock, though nothing now remained apart from the odd, collapsed fence post half-buried in the undergrowth. In the copse of pine trees behind the clearing stood a crooked stone altar, so weathered that there was no telling how long it had been since anyone had honoured it with an offering, or even what god it had originally been built for. Perhaps it was a simple roadside altar, a remnant from when there had still been life and travellers on the moors.
Kae brushed snow off the altar, the cold stiffening his fingers immediately. He stretched out his arms, bowing, then conjured a partially melted candle stub from his pocket and set it down.
”I’ll keep watch. You do your thing,” Lily said as he knelt in the snow. Kae merely nodded in response.
The candle burned with a tall, crimson flame. He stared at it for a long time without knowing what to say. How to address silence without knowing if anyone was listening, without knowing if his words would just dissolve like the whispering of trees in the wind. The irony of it was not lost to him, that this was how most people lived their lives: without ever knowing if their gods heard their prayers.
”Aamunkajo, Morning Star.” He bowed, pressing his forehead against the cold stone of the altar. ”Where, oh, where in the Hells are you? I can’t find you.”
Only silence answered him. He straightened, watching the flame grow taller and taller still as though the breeze could not touch it. It was called faith for a reason, he supposed, and sighed.
”I’ve little to offer this time, Dawnbringer. You know me, I prefer to travel light.” He lifted the candle, shuddering as he carefully poured the molten wax on the scar on his arm, identical to the mark Kajo bore on theirs. Where they had gotten it, he had never asked. ”I’ve never been a particularly religious man, if you can believe that. Never paid much attention to how other people practised their faith. I don’t know any prayers, for one. Or hymns. Well, maybe one or two, but I don’t know if you care for music.”
He pressed the tips of his thumbs and index fingers together, mimicking the faint memory of his parents paying their respects at the twin goddesses’ altar a lifetime ago, and closed his eyes.
Snow fell in large, thick flakes while Lily sheltered under the trees, listening to the sound of Kae’s voice rising and falling like waves in the sea. Whatever he claimed, he was actually not that bad a singer; his voice would have been right at home in a temple.
Though Kheranthar was a small backwater country far in the north, halvlings often traded with the Hellfolk, and she recognised the northern waysong almost at once, though she did not know what it was called. An old hymn of prayer for the weary and the burdened, not associated with any particular deity, nowadays sung by travellers world over. His voice was heavy with such genuine emotion that Lily felt like she was eavesdropping, and when he was done she just waited without disturbing the silence.
”Well, that’s about what I can do for now,” Kae said as he joined her, dusting the snow off his trousers. His stomach growled audibly just then. ”I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Lily turned towards the camp and beckoned for him to follow, saying, ”no point in doing that on an empty stomach, you’re skinny enough as it is. Let’s get something in you.”
He smirked, eyes lighting up. ”Oh? Like one of those virgins, maybe?”
The kick she aimed at his shins missed narrowly as he danced out of her reach, grinning from ear to ear.
Little did neither of them know that it would be two more days before they heard back from Kajo.
Back to the Archive | << Previous | Next >>