Chapter 21 - The Curse

  Taenith didn’t remember much after Olm’s attack. Some words were said about revenge. Possibly extended suffering. But they were a haze. Now, all he could feel, taste, or remember was darkness. A darkness where the air was thick and congealed. But where was here? And why was it…familiar? These questions plagued his ethereal mind as he floated in the abyss. At least, he felt like he was floating. Then again, he had no body to do so with. So maybe it was just his mind.

  “Hello, Taenith,” a deep, masculine voice echoed. Though, Taenith could not tell if he was hearing it, or if he was simply imagining it.

  “What…what happened to me? Where am I?” he asked. He felt strange when he spoke. Like his words were delayed. An echo. Or maybe a reflection.

  The darkness laughed, “You are dead. Or at least, you soon will be.”

  Taenith wanted to be disappointed. But for some reason, even the most basic emotions felt…null. His thoughts that raced to Tex and the others were subsumed by…anything, or nothing else.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  The voice hummed for a moment. “Not who. What.”

  “Okay…” Taenith paused. His mind was becoming increasingly numb. He could almost feel himself slipping further into the darkness. “What are you?”

  “A fragment. A memory. A feeling,” the voice said.

  “Of what?”

  “Of the one who should be.”

  If Taenith could scratch his head, he would have.

  “...What?” his mind, or soul, began to hurt. It was as if a flame had caught fire to what remained of his consciousness. It ached him the more he began to recognize the voice. It was the same voice he heard before. The one from…

  “I heard you once. In the tower,” Taenith said.

  “Yes. We’ve met before. Many times in fact.”

  “You tried to kill Grizzel and Han,” Taenith said, his tone laced with hate. And the darkness around him seemed to reflect this, as wisps of red energy folded into the abyss.

  “No. I simply…catalyzed the process.”

  “Why?”

  The voice huffed. “Because you wanted me to.”

  “I would never do that,” Taenith seethed. “You lie.”

  The voice laughed. “Of course you did. You saw what I saw, individuals subsumed by egos and greed and malice. And you felt threatened because of it. Your rage…my rage…was a reflection of this.”

  Taenith thought for a moment. The voice, whoever…whatever it was, was right. In the briefest of moments, he wanted revenge.

  To kill them.

  “It was a mistake,” Taenith’s words softened.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. It is of no concern to me what you believe.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  A thunderous boom pounded against the darkness, surrounding Taenith in a cloud of misty green haze. The mist clouding his mind began to dissipate and his soul lifted upwards, rising out of the mud that was the caustic hell he’d found himself within. As he elevated, however, the voice replied, “Reunion. At any cost.”

  ---

  Taenith’s lungs felt like they had been pierced with hot needles as he coughed and sucked in fresh air. Blinking, he recognized the outlines of Tex’s face as she looked down on him.

  “Taenith…” her voice echoed. His mind rang like church bells, blocking out most of the noise.

  “Tex…” he mumbled. Shaking his head, he noticed the large sheoldrite was in a fight with Grizzel, who was somehow holding his own.

  “Taenith! Thank the gods,” she cried. Her emotions surprised him. He never thought he’d see more than a tear fall from her. But now there was a steady trail cushioned by sore, red cheeks. Had she really cared about him that much?

  “You need to get up, now!” she shook him. Taenith’s attention snapped back to reality. He stretched his fingers. Feeling had begun running through his body once again. When he arched his neck, he noticed in his right hand was Icarus’ mace.

  “Reunion. At any cost.” The voice’s words echoed in his mind as his fingers clasped around the item. Green magics swelled over him, healing the burns that covered him. Once more, he felt at home. Once more, he felt powerful.

  His burning eyes caught a glimpse of Han, who was struggling to knock an arrow with an arm that may have been broken.

  “You…found me?” Taenith asked, his words still a jumbled mess that barely constituted proper language.

  He was sure he was dead. The tightness around his throat…he should have died.

  “ Grizzel found you. You were unconscious, but we need your help right now,” she said.

  As if on queue, Grizzel let out a shout of agony as Uzdo landed a lucky blow against his side. Though, the sheoldrite was worse for wear. His skin was pink and bubbling on his right side. But he was still strong, and Grizzel was becoming exhausted. Even the light on the mace dipped into a hesitant glimmer as he had turned to the defensive.

  “VANADOR?!” the sheoldrite spat with a harsh lisp as he frantically beat down on Grizzel with his spear. Each block Grizzel made caused the metal of his mace to scream against the intense heat of Uzdo’s magical weapon. “He’s going to die without you, Vanador!” Uzdo blabbed as he caught Grizzel by the other shoulder.

  Managing to overcome the pain in his side, Han launched another arrow. Uzdo was completely unaware as it shrieked towards him, catching him in the neck. Like Olm before him, he began gagging and falling backwards. Unlike his brother, however, he did not collapse and die. Though Han had placed it accurately, layers of fat protected Uzdo from any serious harm. Wincing, the sheoldrite grabbed the arrow and tore it away, leaving behind a river of blood that fell over his sweaty crimson flesh.

  “Nrhg- Pest!” Uzdo spat.

  Grizzel smashed his mace into the demon’s side, causing him to cry out in pain once more.

  “Grizzel?” Taenith thought, watching the scene unfold before his choked eyes. Fire rained from the sky, and the town around him was razed in embers. And the screams… So many screams…

  It reminded him of home.

  “Taenith, you need to-” Tex began, offering Icarus’ mace.

  But Tex’s words were lost on the draconian, as he eyed the artifact, and succumbed to a visceral need to have it. Taenith’s greedy hands wrapped around its leathery handle, and its glassy orb glowed a ghostly green. With a deep breath, Taenith stepped from the ground, his muscles screaming at him to stop. And yet… as umbral magics poured through his veins, the pain of death and decay were lost to him. His soul compelled him to continue. His eyes swelled to a bright gold as profane knowledge flooded Taenith completely. Then, he raised the ghoullish weapon to the sky. The dancing magics at its tip swirled with an increasing excitement that threatened to burst the very glass that contained it. Then, a flash of light exploded from the ancient weapon into the sundering sky. Uzdo could only glance in confusion as the blinding white absorbed the embers, the raging fires. Everything.

  Then, the artificial day returned to night. And all that lit the streets was Uzdo’s flaming spear and the golden glow that emanated from his burning flesh.

  “That can’t be…That can’t be possible,” Uzdo mumbled.

  Taenith faced the sheoldrite. Grizzel nodded to Taenith and stepped away to catch his breath.

  “Kill him! Tear his soul to pieces,” the voice said. Taenith grit his teeth, fighting back its words. His head throbbed as he denied its rage. Wincing, he placed a hand on his forehead.

  “Taenith?” Tex began.

  “He tried to kill you. Your friends. The ones you care so much about? Take his soul! PUNISH HIM.”

  “No!” Taenith roared. Flame spit from his maw as he shook his head. He wanted the sheoldrite to suffer. To die. But was that right? Was he not just working in fear of what would happen to him at the hands of his god? He could see the terror in Uzdo’s eyes. The trembling of his features and the uneasiness in his stature. He was no apostle. No willing executioner blinded by faith.

  Taking a deep breath, Taenith faced the sheoldrite who stepped backwards.

  “Please..I…I didn’t,” he begged. Though his lisp caused him to stumble over his words.

  Taenith seethed, “Renounce your allegiance to Icarus… Or die.”

  Uzdo’s heart practically leapt from his chest.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “It’s not that easy - I...Icarus will. I can’t return. Not without…”

  Taenith’s eyes flared and his tail slammed against the ground.

  “Kill. Devour. Destroy. Consume,” more thoughts tried to eat their way into him. Taenith winced again before raising his mace. Uzdo’s eyes twitched uncontrollably as a fate far worse than death stared back at him. Rumor had it that the souls devoured by its evil orb were extinguished forever.

  “I-I renounce,” he gulped. “I renounce my allegiance to Icarus.” His chest swelled with anxiety.

  “Now leave. And never return,” Taenith said, lowering the weapon.

  Uzdo glanced at the others, who seemed equally dumbfounded by Taenith’s decision. But when he saw the draconian was genuine, he gave a short bow before limping into the night, leaving behind his hammer and his brother’s now disintegrating corpse. Once he was out of sight, Taenith dropped the mace to the ground and collapsed once more.

  ---

  “You denied me,” the voice hissed. Its normal, calm demeanor had vanished.

  “You undermined me,” Taenith spat back. “I will not be manipulated. Not by the gods. Not by you.”

  The voice hissed. The darkness surrounding them became even darker, to the point Taenith couldn’t even see his hands in front of him.

  “You resisted. We could have been freed.”

  “Resisted what? Murdering a panicking sheoldrite? You know as well as I that he was fighting for his life as much as we were.”

  “THE REASON IS IRRELEVANT,” the voice boomed, shaking the fabric of the abyss. “You are the vessel I-”

  Taenith growled, “You are a parasite!”

  “WE HAVE THE SAME GOALS. THE DEATH OF THE GODS. THE DEATH OF-”

  “My hatred of the gods is my own. Your meddling is not my will. And if you ever get in my way again, I will find a way to destroy you,” Taenith sneered. The haze surrounding him the last time he had visited the strange realm had vanished. His mind and thoughts were clear, untainted and unblinded.

  “They have made you weak,” it said.

  The voice disappeared for several moments before Taenith could hear a shallow breathing. Previously, the noise had come to him from everywhere at once. But, now it was condensed to a single point. Turning around, he watched as a shadowy figure formed from the darkness. It extended far above him and developed into the form of a massive dragon. When it opened its eyes, they glowed white.

  “Understand this, mortal. You will help me. And you will see that my kin, and those who serve them, are worthy of nothing but death.” The dragon lowered its massive head to Taenith, who stood, or rather floated, as firm as he could in the situation. “I have inhabited a hundred lives before you. All submit to my will eventually, or die. You are no different. Accept my will as your own, or perish.”

  Taenith digested the dragon’s words for a moment. The way he said ‘kin’ made him realize it was indeed a god, or a fragment of a god, that was somehow connected to him. More the reason to deny him his goals.

  “Then I choose death,” he said.

  “Wraaaaghh!” the dragon roared. Its nostrils flared smoke as it reared its head back like a snake. Taenith’s eyes widened as the beast shot towards him with its mouth blazing with white flames. He held his arms out in front of him in defense, and felt the dragon’s cool smoke envelop him. When it passed, he lowered his defenses and realized he was once more in reality, staring into the night sky with the moon looking down on him.

  “Taenith?” Grizzel asked. Blinking, he saw that both he and Han had been resting beside him. Both were battered and bruised. Han, especially. He held his busted arm in a makeshift sling.

  Taenith sat up. To his relief, the sheoldrite had taken his word and left. All that remained was the half burnt town.

  “You alright?” Han asked.

  Taenith looked his friend over. Blood continued to drip from his ruined sleeve. “I am. Are you?”

  He tried looking for the mace so he could maybe heal Han, but saw it was no longer at his side. It was nowhere to be seen.

  Han shrugged, causing him to cringe as a spike of pain ran through his chest. “Yeah. Doing great,” he coughed.

  “Yup. Han took quite the hit there. Almost thought you were dead, buddy,” Grizzel smiled, patting Han on his good shoulder.

  “Yeah well. I guess I need to get hurt more often,” he gestured to Grizzel’s mace. “Even Tex was surprised when you took that guy on alone.”

  Taenith smiled before looking around more. He noticed she was nowhere in sight. “Had she gone after the sheoldrite?” He wondered.

  “Where did she go?” Taenith asked.

  “Uhhh,” Grizzel paused. “I think she went to check on the people. That demon did a number on everything.”

  “I can see that,” Taenith muttered, stretching his wings. Though they were healed, they still felt sore.

  He had only a few moments during his time with the mace to see the fires pounding the town. But now that his mind was clear and the threat was away, he could properly gaze upon the destruction Uzdo had caused. Luckily, no one seemed to have been hurt. But the same couldn’t be said for the buildings. Though the structures further away from the plaza were fine, those closest, such as the Inn, had been pummeled into piles of ash and rubble.

  “Wherever she went, she didn’t seem happy. Then again, I don’t think she ever is,” he said.

  Grizzel nodded.

  Taenith clicked his tongue and stood up. He was still a bit dizzy, but able to hold himself using his tail to balance his weight.

  “Woah, you good to walk?” Han asked.

  Taenith huffed, “I’m fine. I need to talk to her. It’s about Jakob.”

  “The thief?” Grizzel chimed in.

  Taenith nodded. “I believe those two were working with him in some way. They mentioned his name in the tent before you saved me. Thank you by the way.”

  Grizzel smiled. “Anytime for my favorite dragon person.”

  Taenith couldn’t help but smirk at the comment. Grizzel had come a long way in the past few days. Because of it, any suspicion he had of him had vanished. Whatever the journey was that he had with his demons, he was glad it was working out for the better.

  Taking a deep breath, he thanked the two for watching over him before heading into the town’s remnants. The destruction was terrible, and he felt sorrow for the people despite his disagreements with their lives of delusion. They had nothing before, and now? Somehow even less. And he knew no god would help them. Reconstruction would take weeks, and without water they would likely be driven to another city where they would live in the dirt with other beggars. But such was the fate of the faithful, he supposed.

  After a few minutes of stepping over rubble and burnt boards, Taenith eventually found himself at the edge of town where some of the people had gathered around. Tex was there too, talking to a few guards and panicked families. As the massive draconian approached, one of the guards began to draw their sword.

  “Demon!” one of the citizens screamed, their voice tainted by fear. They all retreated as the draconian neared.

  “He’s with me,” Tex put a hand in front of the most eager of the guards. All of them had their sweaty, soot-covered hands tied to the hilt of their blades like glue. Taenith understood their unease. Compared to Olm, at least, he did look rather like a sheoldrite… a demon.

  Taenith raised his hands, however, to ease their tensions.

  One of the guards seemed convinced, as she talked down the others. After a few moments of awkward silence and debate, the rest of the town’s guard stowed their blades and went back to tending to the rest of the civilians.

  “Thank you, Reba,” Tex said before approaching Taenith.

  “How are you feeling? You took quite a fall back there,” she said. Her face was covered in dirt and ash. Beneath it all, too, there was a sadness that stressed her features.

  “I’ve been better,” he said. His lungs still burned, but at least he wasn’t dead. “How are they?” he gestured to the people. He was delighted to see the nearest houses were relatively untouched. Some had already been made into makeshift shelters for the sick and elderly.

  Tex placed her hands on her hips. He noticed at her side was the mace. It was once more wrapped away. Probably for the best.

  “They’re alive,” she sighed, rubbing her temple. It was still late, and they hadn’t slept well in days.

  “I’m sorry if my decision upset you,” he said.

  Tex took a cloth from her pocket and wiped a blot of soot from her face. “I’m not upset. Just…surprised,” she said. “You know, if he comes back, it’s on you, right?”

  Taenith rubbed his throat. “I know. But everyone deserves a chance to choose their own path. Even sheoldrites.”

  “When I said that, I meant people like Grizzel. People who don’t know any better. But killers? Monsters? Do you think they deserve that? Even after this?” she said, gesturing to the rubble.

  “Monsters?” Taenith asked. His nostrils flared a bit.

  “Taenith, I didn’t mean-”

  “... I know,” he paused, glancing at the survivors huddled together, trembling, and eyeing him like some living embodiment of sheol. “But these… people,” his chest tightened. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned since then… Not all monsters have horns.”

  Tex was silent.

  Taenith sighed. “... Uzdo could have killed everyone here if he wanted. He didn’t. That was enough to show me he wasn’t too far gone. Unlike his brother.” Taenith’s features softened as he took a breath. He knew Tex didn’t mean anything by what she said. He didn’t doubt that some were monsters. Like Olm. Like Icarus. But they were still souls. Souls that could be enslaved or freed. If it hadn’t been for Icarus, perhaps Uzdo never would have raised a finger against anyone. Perhaps even Olm would never have picked up the blade and threatened Tex, warranting his demise. Maybe without the gods, the apostles who slaughtered his people would never have batted a racist eye towards demihumans at all. But until their various decrees were gone, until all traces of their systemic and corrosive moralities had been eradicated, it would be impossible to know how much was choice, and how much was manipulation.

  Taenith nearly lost himself in his own thoughts to the point he barely noticed Tex chuckle.

  “Did I say something?” Taenith asked.

  “No.” Tex said, wiping her nose. “Just. You,” she smirked. “Throwing my own advice back at me.”

  Looking into each other’s eyes, Taenith could help but smile back.

  “Well, you’ve taught me a lot, Tex,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes, blushing slightly. “We only met two days ago. I don’t think I-”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Tex’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest as he came in for a hug. Some of the villagers who had been watching gasped, but this didn’t seem to bother Taenith as he wrapped his large arms around her. It was a strange sensation. Alien, warm, awkward, nice. Human.

  Tex hesitated for a moment, thinking of some sarcastic insult or quip to throw out. But all she could feel was an intense warmth that clouded her mind and made her hesitations dissipate. It reminded her of the last time Lynn held her. Years ago, before that fateful day. It almost made her cry to remember that feeling. The mere memory of it paralyzed her.

  Tex cleared her throat. Her arms floated outwards, as if they were allergic to touch.

  “I-” she choked. But her words failed her.

  After a few moments, Taenith stood back. Tex’s face was burning red.

  All she could muster in response was, “I didn’t think draconians were huggers.”

  Taenith shook his wings. His whole body felt like it was floating. “Not really. But I guess you humans are starting to rub off on me,” he smiled.