Episode 10: An Unexpected Visitor
Written by: Auraboo
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Returning to civilisation came as a relief after days of soaked boots and damp clothes that never quite dried properly. It was two days after the abrupt visit from a god that Tamrus and Lily led the others out of the woods and past the gates of Heatherwater, a small, quaint village nestled between two equally large expanses of poorly charted woodlands stretching out to the north and the south. The locals had built their fields and farms in the narrow strip of land not taken by trees, and whatever public property the town had were all clustered around one small square.
It was one of the tiniest-ass villages Kae had ever seen – you got from one end to another in less than ten minutes – which was saying a lot, considering Needlefall was not much to shout about, either. The tavern was warm, sturdy and well-kept, and that was all he cared about as he limped up the stairs to the third floor, where they had secured lodgings for the next two nights.
He felt like shit. He ignored Tamrus’s orders to send his things to the wash and collapsed on the bed instead, despite the wave of discomfort that shot up his spine.
He should have known better; Kajo’s patience had been wearing thin in the past years for reasons best known to themself, and toying with gods was a guaranteed way to find yourself wishing you had just jumped off a cliff like normal people who asked for trouble.
Two days, and he still felt like he had been beaten with sticks from the inside. Ignoring his patron’s summons had been a mistake on an astronomical scale. Kajo might rough him up from time to time (Kae would have been lying if he claimed he did not get a kick out of it), but they never failed to fix him up afterwards. It was just a game. They both played it to get a reaction out of the other, nothing more. No real harm done, no boundaries crossed. He needed his patron’s powers and Kajo needed someone to traverse the Realms in their stead. It was uncomplicated.
Well, it had been uncomplicated, once. Now Kae could see where he had erred at last.
He had not made his god angry. He had given them a reason to doubt.
Finally, the rumbling of his stomach convinced him out of his moping. With a groan Kae pushed himself up, unpacked his rucksack and headed towards the baths for a quick wash before lunch.
It was amazing what one night of proper sleep and a couple of warm meals could do. Though still vaguely achy in inconvenient places, it was a muted ache, easily shoved beneath the pleasures of company and even better dishes. He had never known how many flavours he had missed out on in his previous life, and took every opportunity to try as many things as gold allowed whenever they got close to civilisation.
”I thought all Hellfolk were carnivorous,” Luzem said, watching with some concern as Kae drank the rest of his parsnip soup.
”We are,” he replied and held out his tankard to the waiter, letting them refill it with hot, syrupy juice that tasted of plums and the last apples of the season. He took a long swig before he went on, ”this is a boon from my operator. I wanted to be able to eat as other mortal species do and voilà, wish granted.”
”That’s a very specific wish.”
”If you’d spent your whole life only eating one thing, buddy, you’d be pretty sick of it, too.”
He was not the only one who had requested something strictly vegetarian. For once, Tamrus ate almost as eagerly as the others, the look on his face speaking of amusement as Lily attempted to reason with Tariya concerning an incident from that morning, the halvling’s tone turning more and more exasperated by the minute.
”—might seem nonsensical, but you have to remember we’re not the only guests here. Take your clothes off only after entering the dressing room, not before,” she tried, which was met by a look of utter bemusement from Tariya.
”But our room is just around the corner. What’s the point of bringing my clothes with me if I’m just going to undress anyway as soon as I get there?”
”There is this thing called propriety, darling. Other guests may not want to see you waltzing down the corridor naked.”
Tariya frowned. ”It’s a bath. Everyone undresses for a bath.”
Lily shot an imploring look at Luzem, who had his hands buried in Tariya’s silver-white hair, and said, ”help me out here, will you?”
Luzem cleared his throat. ”It’s just a habit most people have, Tariya. You remember what I’ve told you about Llavarron and other western cities, right?”
”Yes.”
”Well, it’s a lot like that. People get weird when others don’t follow their habits, even if the habit makes no sense. There were lots of rules like that back there. You just had to put up with it or you got in trouble.” He tied the second braid and affixed it to the back of her head with a hairpin. ”There. I’m not sure it’s anywhere near as neat as you tend to make it, though.”
She felt her hair with the hand she had not used for eating and nodded in approval. ”It’s good. Thanks.” She thought for a moment. ”Did you ever get in trouble, for breaking the rules?”
Luzem laughed. Their voices did not resemble one another’s, but they laughed the same, eyes creasing, open-mouthed and merry. ”All the time. Why do you think I left?”
She smiled back. ”I’m glad you did.”
Lily shook her head and turned back to her own meal, knowing full well the lecture was all but forgotten as soon as the two lapsed back into their own little bubble. Even around a dinner table the two elves sat close, knees pressed together, passing bits and pieces of food between each other’s plates. Luzem was six years younger than his sister, but they could have been twins in all but appearance. They inhabited a wave-length only they seemed capable of understanding, a hundred little gestures and ticks they shared with none but each other that spoke of a shared childhood, regardless of the years of separation that had come after. Tariya said something and they both grinned that private, shared smile that was only reserved to the other.
”Nice effort,” Tamrus told Lily quietly. She only sighed in return.
A gust of wind made the flames in the hearth sway unexpectedly, though the air outside had been dead still for three days straight. The barkeep’s hands stilled as she turned to stare at the doorway, the glass and the rag she had used for cleaning it quite forgotten. A hush fell over the crowd as the doors to the dining hall opened and a tall figure stepped over the threshold, heels clicking against the wooden floor. Kae nearly dropped his tankard.
Without their wings Kajo could have passed for a hellning, if an unusually tall one, but it was Kajo all right, no doubt about that. Their appearance caused more than its fair share of double-takes. Several customers stared openly as they swished towards the counter, the gold in their many earrings gleaming in candlelight.
Even the barkeep stared, transfixed, her voice strangely hushed. ”Table for one, my dear?”
Kajo’s smile was dagger-sharp, white and cold as steel. They glanced around, eyes lingering on the table where Kae and the others were sitting. ”I’ve company. How much for a goblet of your best wine?”
The barkeep swallowed. ”The Ruby Rebellion? One silver and five coppers.”
She turned beetroot red as Kajo slid the coins across the counter and took the filled goblet from her hand. She was not the only one. The sheer top Kajo wore was fastened with a band of gold just above the navel, leaving rather little to the viewer’s imagination, and their black leather boots reached above their knees. The plain brown trousers were form-fitting, the long, white travelling cloak of some strange, velvet-like material that rippled like quicksilver with each movement, barely concealing the flail strapped to their belt.
Lily was among the few who knew not to stare. She looked Kae straight in the eye and said, ”please tell me that’s not—”
”It is,” Kae confirmed. He got up and pulled out an extra chair from a nearby table as Kajo strode towards them, their brows already quirked expectantly. The smile playing on his lips was convincing enough to fool anyone watching from afar, but Lily saw the corners of his mouth twitching as he whispered, ”what in the Hells are you doing here?”
”Ensuring the safety of my investment,” Kajo replied. The honeyed tone did nothing to conceal the warning within. They sat down, crossing one leg over the other, lips pulling into an amused smirk as they considered their current company. ”I believe some introductions are long overdue. He has told you who I am, correct?”
Lily’s tone was just as amicable at theirs, and just as fake. ”Gods are not supposed to interfere in the affairs of the mortal realm.”
”Keep it down, Lily,” Tamrus hissed, but she just shrugged.
”No one can hear a word we’re saying,” she said. ”Nice trick, by the way. Is manipulating the senses of mortals not considered meddling?”
Kajo lifted the goblet and drank. There was a deep red stain to their lips when they replied, ”all they hear is a group of old friends enjoying a joyful reunion. What we’re about to discuss is something you people, too, would rather keep to yourselves, I assume.”
The tavern patrons had gone back to dining and conversing as though nothing had happened, the familiar chatter, clattering of dice and bouts of occasional laughter filling the room. The barkeep’s eyes had glazed over as she scrubbed the same spot on the counter over and over. Tamrus repressed a shudder when he saw the other diners’ eyes passing over their table as though it were part of the wallpaper, present yet only mildly interesting.
Beneath the table Tariya held Luzem’s hand in a tight grasp, feeling how badly he was shaking.
”This is quite the curious gathering, even without counting myself,” Kajo drawled when no one offered to break the silence. Their eyes paused briefly on Tariya and Luzem, who winced as if burned under their scrutiny. ”It is not often a Woodlander tolerates one of their Highborn cousins.”
”They’re siblings, Kajo,” Kae said. He looked resigned, like a child caught in wrongdoing being dragged home by the ear. ”Half and half.”
Kajo turned their attention to Lily. ”And a halvling, so far away from home. What a pretty little thing you are.” Their smile turned positively feral, a throaty little laugh escaping their mouth at whatever they saw. There was an iridescent gleam to their eyes when they said, ”oh, but you are no ordinary thief. Tell me, who do you serve, priestess?”
A nerve was twitching at the corner of Lily’s eye, but she returned the smile resolutely. ”You must be mistaken. I serve no interests but my own.”
”Oh, I’ve always liked the spirited ones.” Kajo took another sip of the wine with apparent enjoyment. ”Keep your secrets, but know this: the touch of the Beyond always leaves a trace, even if you do not see it yourself.”
Tamrus put down his tankard with a soft clunk, but there was nothing soft about the look he fixed at them. ”We have no business with either gods or devils, whatever you are. Take your leave and get out.”
Kajo’s expression sobered as they met the dwarf’s eyes. They, too, set down their drink, and in sombre tones said, ”you, most of all, will want to hear what I have to say. But I must ask first: what are you?”
Tamrus started. ”Excuse me?”
”You wear the skin of a dwarf, yet you are no dwarf. There is a certain… distortion,” Kajo said slowly, and for the first time hesitation crept into their voice. ”A void barely contained. Like a black hole, warping all around itself. I’ve never seen its like in all my centuries.” They focused on the tremor of Tamrus’s hands, on how his brown skin had suddenly turned ashen, and went on, ”you were not born with it, or else it would have already consumed you. So I ask again: what are you?”
Tamrus could have been made of stone. Long seconds passed during which no one spoke, until at last he let out a single, shuddering sigh like that of a dying man. He cast a furtive glance around the dining room and said, voice cracking, ”I don’t know whether it has a name. In no temple or grove that I’ve asked has there been a single priest, acolyte or devotee capable of naming it. It is hunger, a constant hunger that never sleeps, and I don’t know how to be free of it.”
”How did you come by it? A ritual? A pact?”
Tamrus swallowed. ”A curse.”
Kajo held out one perfectly manicured hand at him. Tamrus bristled at once and nearly toppled his chair in his haste to back off.
”I do not make deals with devils,” he ground out.
Kae laid a hand on his shoulder. ”Easy, pops. If they were offering, you’d know.” He smiled wryly at the skeptical look on Tamrus’s face and added, ”magic knows magic, and for many gods, recognising the traces of another’s work requires touch.”
Kajo nodded. ”I cannot touch a mortal without their permission. I will tell you this: I cannot undo what ails you, nor would I offer to, for there’s nothing you can offer me that I want. But I might be able to gleam some information from this curse of yours, should you allow me to investigate.”
Tamrus stared at them, at the offered hand and the rings gleaming around their fingers, then at Kae. ”Who exactly are they?”
Kae smiled. ”Aamunkajo, called the Morning Star in the Beyond. They are the god of arcane, hidden and forbidden knowledge. And of me, I suppose, if you’re in need of a more personal reference.”
”And you trust them?”
”Oh, no, absolutely not. But when it comes to discovering secrets best left untouched, they are second to none.”
Tamrus inhaled deeply through his nose, and, with an expression that spoke of extreme reluctance, allowed Kajo to take his hand. The god’s eyes took on that strange, burning gleam again, their gaze turning distant, and for a second Tamrus thought he could feel the air around him shifting. The sounds of the tavern grew muted, then came back in a crash as Kajo hissed and wrenched their hand free with a start. They were staring at it in disbelief, and the others could see why.
There were black welts across the god’s palm, like rent by monstrous claws, but the flesh below was dead and withered.
Kae had stopped smiling. He had not gotten to his feet before the welts disappeared, skin knitting together with a furl of foul-smelling smoke.
”A curse… A curse?” Kajo managed at last. They shook their head, earrings chiming with the movement. ”No. This is something more. You sit down,” they told Kae without looking at him.
Even Lily appeared disturbed by what she had just witnessed, the gears in her head already turning furiously as she thought. ”You’re a god. What force in the mortal realm could possibly injure a god?”
”No ordinary magic can hurt gods, not even the ascended such as myself.” Kajo licked their lips, and this time Kae read unease to their eyes. ”Whatever became of the one who cast this on you?”
Tamrus took a long time to find his voice again. ”I killed her. The hag. It did nothing to revert the curse.”
It was Kajo’s turn to stare. ”Curses do not persist past the caster’s death, no matter how powerful. All creation must obey the same rule; no magic can exist without a source.” They drummed the table with their fingers as they thought. ”My guess is – and I hope that I am mistaken – that this is of divine origin.”
”Divine?” Tamrus repeated, stupefied.
”Only forces beyond creation itself can bend its rules.”
Kae leaned over Kajo’s shoulder, their previous command either ignored or forgotten. His eyes were glued to the spot where the cuts had been but moments ago as he reached out to take Kajo’s much larger hand in his own for inspection.
”You mean… One of the major gods?” Lily said disbelievingly. ”Oh, please. That doesn’t make any sense.”
”What I’d like to know,” Tamrus interrupted, ”is how this concerns you, god or devil or whatever you want to call yourself.”
”Your pretty little friend said it already: gods are not to meddle in the affairs of the mortal realm. No gods, major or minor. If someone is bending the rules and to this extent, I want to know who, how and why. And how they’ve gotten away with it, most of all.” Kajo slapped Kae’s hand away with an irritated sigh. ”Sit down already, will you.”
”I don’t think death qualifies as getting away with it,” Kae retorted, but did as he was told.
”Were you not listening, idiot? This would have ended with his killing the hag were it one of their curses.” Kajo reached into their cloak and pulled out a folded parchment from one of its pockets. They laid it out on the table. ”Magic is like a fingerprint. Something of the caster remains in all spellwork, however feeble. This one is distinctive; I would recognise it should I ever encounter it again.”
”What are you getting at?” Kae asked, frowning.
”The burned grimoire you procured for me, two years ago. Do you remember?”
”The burned…” He inhaled sharply. ”The ruins of Altùin.”
”Altùin?” Luzem said. He managed a single, brief glance at Kajo before averting his eyes again. ”That’s on the Western Highlands. A ruined city.”
Kajo nodded. ”There were rumours. An entire elven city, supposedly fallen to ruin overnight, yet no traces of victims, or of survivors, for that matter, and no explanation as to their disappearance. Rumours like that tend to attract the unsavoury types, yet none who went after its riches returned again.”
”I remember,” Kae said. A flash of understanding passed between him and his patron as they shared a look. ”They call it a ruin, but it’s just empty, as though the people up and left and never came back. No blood, no bodies, nothing. Just this… feeling.” Sharp teeth worried his lip. ”Like there was something in the stone and the soil itself.”
”It had seeped into the grimoire, too. It was unusable, but echoes of whatever had occurred there remained. They say something stalks the ruins,” Kajo said. They unfolded the parchment, revealing it for what it was: a map. ”This might be of interest to you, dwarf.”
The map was new and pristine, depicting the western half of the continent. Altùin in the elven moors had been circled with a pen, and so had three other places in different corners of the map. Next to it Kajo placed another sheet of parchment, clearly torn off something else. It was a rough sketch of a hulking shadow, the creature’s features unclear as though the artist had scribbled it with shaking hands, but the silhouette… Tamrus picked up the sketch, clutching it in his hands, and felt sick to his stomach.
”Where did you get this?” he whispered, unable to tear his eyes off the grotesque picture.
”There have been similar rumours popping up in the recent years in various places, rumours of some hungry, malformed beast that hunts alone and never stays in one location for too long, killing not simply to sate its hunger, but for the sake of killing. A man in Callanwater claims to have escaped the slaughter of his troupe; this warning poster was pinned to a noticeboard along the Southern Caravan Route.” Kajo rapped the map. ”These are all the rumoured sightings I’ve managed to track down. If these beasts exist, I want to know if they bear the same curse.”
Kae’s expression had grown darker and darker the longer they talked. He rubbed his face wearily, saying, ”let me guess. You have a job for me, and I’m not going to like it.”
Kajo stared at him as though he had lost his mind. ”Only if I want you back in pieces.”
”So that’s a yes?”
”Don’t be ridiculous. No, I’m going myself. If there’s even an inkling of truth to these rumours, this is beyond a warlock’s ability to fight off.” Kajo yanked the sketch out of Tamrus’s grasp, shaking him out of his reverie, and looked him straight in the eye. ”I’ve come to make an offer. If you want the truth, however ugly, accompany me. I will hunt this thing down and find out who is behind all this.”
The silence that followed was absolute.
”What’s in it for you?” Tamrus finally asked, but something mingled now with his earlier suspicion; not curiousity but iron resolve, cold, hard and bitter.
Kajo’s expression hardened. ”Proof. There will be Hell to pay for all the Realms if the greater gods start to believe themselves beyond consequence.”
He looked at the map once more, then back at the god of knowledge, and asked, ”when are you ready to go?”
Their smile carried all the warmth of a winter’s night. ”At first light.”
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