CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

*~~~**~~~*

Alaric

*~~~**~~~*

23rd of Decepter, 935 PC

It was not the first time Alaric had been in the Stonerock Inn, but the ludicrous nature of the décor and luxuries the inn offered still impressed him so thoroughly that he had to take a moment in the lobby to gaze around at the alchemy-enhanced building. A sense of wonder unlike any other that could be found outside the halls of Iris’ floating tower befell him. The marble floor was pristine and whiter than the finest pearls he could imagine with black marks that reminded him of brushstrokes scattered around generously. When mud or dirt or any other filth found their way to the shiny surface the nearest black streak moved like a swimming fish to the imperfection and miraculously it would be gone when the streak returned to its original location. With so few people to dirty things in the lobby at that hour the floor was mostly stationary. But Alaric had seen afternoons when the floor looked like an aerial view of a crystal clear pond in which fish were in constant movement. Ahead, standing tall and proud, was the staircase and it was as grand and spectacular as a staircase could be; curved, lined with black carpet that didn’t quite cover the entire width of each stair, and in constant movement. Rather than remaining still, the stairs moved upward slowly until they reached the top, then recycled underneath and returned back to the bottom in a perpetual process. Banners attached to the beams of the ceiling hung so high in the air that one could not read them. But if a heart desired to do so, all one had to do was ask the innkeeper and a lever would lower it down to a more reasonable height. This was something Alaric found to be completely and utterly pointless, but was impressed by the ability to do so just as much as the next person.

“I must say,” Tripelthin said. “I do hope we stop Iris. It’d be a shame to miss out on the advancements more reasonable alchemists are making.”

Alaric turned from greeting the innkeeper and said, “Just imagine if Comprehensionists could work alongside the brilliant minds that bring these things to the world. Spoiled, we’d be. Simply spoiled.”

“Indeed.”

Therrin appeared along the railing that ran across the wide open space above the lobby that was the second floor. He waved down to them with a grin fit for a man who’d just received his first kiss. His hand slid along the smooth oak wood of the railing as he rushed toward the mobile staircase. Alaric and Tripelthin cautiously fixed themselves on the bottom step, each with a hand on the railing at their sides, and allowed it to carry them up to the excited healer.

“Can you believe that?!” Therrin’s eyes were wide, his head shaking. “Never seen anything like it! Was almost too nervous to step on but the ladies climbed right on so I had to follow. Fun ride, all in all.”

“It is quite remarkable,” Alaric said. He wrapped an arm around Therrin’s shoulders to wrangle him toward the rooms, figuring if he did not, the young man may not get any sleep that night.

“They have a gambling hall here too,” said Therrin. “A nice one. One ya don’t have to feel nervous walking around in with Leos showing.”

“Wonderful,” Alaric said. “But that isn’t why we’re here. I’d ask that you hold onto the Leos I’ve provided you… For something more useful.”

“Of course. Of course.”

“Good. Now show us to our rooms, if you would.” When Therrin tried to look over Alaric’s shoulder the elder man pointed forward and tried to keep the healer on task. Not a simple task.

*~~~**~~~*

Button by button Alaric’s shirt loosened until it fell open, revealing the strange looking wound down the middle of his sternum. Not exactly a scar by strict definition but certainly similar and undeniably noticeable. If pressed to describe it to someone he’d called it a seam. The threads of his torn skin overlapped just enough to hide the jagged edges of his broken sternum, the chipped bones all barely touching, all barely held together by his magic. Yes, he’d call it a seam, if not for any other reason but to avoid terrifying others. A grotesque horror would be a better description. Yes, a horror that haunts my days and nights, forcing me to dwell on what it wants so badly. Who knew how persistent something without a mind or soul could be, waiting patiently, relentlessly for the last drops of his magic to pour from his soul so a bloody death could end his revenge-driven obsession to kill the Lotus Queen.

See, one detail about Purists that no commoner, no Lotus, no alchemist, no other at all could relate to, was their ability to open and close their soul. On the rare occasions that Alaric had tried to explain how it worked he likened it to a tapped barrel. A simple turn of the handle could start or stop the flow of liquid on command. That is essentially how pure magic was preserved or used by a Purist, only the flow was controlled by their mind. And after the first few dozen experiences with doing so, the practice became every bit as dull and uneventful as opening and closing a tapped barreled. Especially for Alaric, whose handle had been turned ever so slightly for years, just barely allowing enough of a drip to hold his terrible wound together. For now. He was fortunate to be able to control the human body so masterfully. Any other type of Purist, even the other types of Physicalists, would have died on Iris Everton’s table when she was done with her terrible experiment. But not Alaric, his ability to control the human body, his own and others, kept him alive that day and continued to do so ever since. But time was running out. He had to finish this soon.

Suddenly, something quick and dashing caught his eye. He turned and looked at the back wall of the large, finely decorated room. It was completely covered by a mural that moved and looked so real he thought he may be able to walk into the picture. Two men were dueling on the edge of a cliff that towered over the Jazak Sea. The water rocked and moved gently in the background as the men’s steels swept and clashed, poked and probed, searching for that one brief moment of vulnerability that would score them a point. The man on the left was small and skinny. Agile like Shade, though nowhere near as impressive. The man on the right had long hair that fluttered and flapped in the wind as he unleashed a barrage of attacks. But alas, it was he who was caught off guard just long enough to be parried and counterattacked effectively. The blunted tip of the slim man’s steel thumped into the aggressor’s padded chest, the metal bending as if it may snap. Both men stopped, removed their dueling gloves and shook hands. The entire image faded to black and a new picture appeared. It was a snowy landscape around a castle Alaric believed to be Bastion da Le’fi in Locke. He scoffed at the coincidence. A few weeks later he would be in the beautiful city, and if all went as planned, he would be visiting the castle.

“This place is just incredible,” Therrin said behind him. He was sitting at a table made of marble exactly like that of the floor in the lobby, purposely spilling drops of water onto it to watch the black streaks dart around wildly and clean up the mess.

“What do you think of Lilly?” Alaric asked bluntly. The healer stopped just as another drop was about to fall from his cup and looked up.

“Seems a bit cold and angry if you ask me.”

“Yes. Cold and bitter.” Somewhat understandable given that I’ve seen her new lover off to one of the most dangerous places in the empire for a Purist. “Do you trust her to do whatever is necessary if we find ourselves in a bind?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it, sir.”

Alaric walked toward his bed along the west side of the room and sat down. “Therrin.” The healer spun in his seat and looked at him. The cup was tipped halfway to pouring more water on the table. “These are the kinds of things you should be considering more often. Of all those around you.”

“What do you mean sir?”

“I mean…” He searched for the right words. He had no desire to be as confusing and indirect as Tripelthin, but being too straightforward allowed minds to come to conclusions of their own too quickly. “You were upset with me earlier… about separating you and Coyne. Because you made a promise to the boy’s mother. Were you not?”

Therrin looked surprised. He had not straight out with his frustration. Apparently, he thought he had hid it well enough to go unnoticed until he calmed down and forgot about it. Or at least was able to behave as though he had. “It’s alright, Therrin. You had every right to be upset. You made a promise. You gave Mrs. Hallstone your word. And I made you break that promise. I would be upset with me as well.”

“It’s behind me. Truly,” Therrin said. He shook his long bangs out of his eyes. His narrow face showed all the best angles along his chin and high cheekbones. His perfectly symmetric lips were full without being noticeably plump, and his skin had a nice tanned appearance, especially in the dim candlelight. But none of that was enough to mask his lie.

Bullshit. “Is it?” Alaric absent-mindedly ran his finger along the pink seam on his chest. “Because I don’t believe it is, Therrin.”

Therrin knew who Alaric was. He may not have at first, when his mother and father sent him looking for the leader of the Purists, but he knew now. He had spent hours, days, weeks, with Alaric’s soldiers. And if there was one thing Alaric knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was that his soldiers told stories of what his magic could do. Diedro, Shade, Garth. They were nothing compared to Alaric. He could put any of them six feet in the dirt without so much as breaking a sweat. That respect for his magic was on Therrin’s face now.

“Well, I-I-”

Alaric raised a hand. Shook his head. “There’s nothing to be worried about. I understand you more than you think, Therrin. I’m glad you’re still frustrated with me. I’m glad you wish Coyne was here beside you. Or that you had gone west with him.”

“You are?”

“Of course. It means you’re a man of your word. It means I can trust you. It means I can rely on you to do whatever needs done, whenever it needs done. And only I could be the one to derail you, set you a new path to follow. We are at war. It may not have a fancy name or even be considered a war… Most call it a purge if I’m not mistaken. But make no mistake. It is a war. We will not go down without a fight. The fact that others can’t see that yet is beyond me.” He took a deep breath. “And because we are at war, it is vital that you trust every man and woman that fights alongside you. You must trust them to do whatever it takes for the cause.”

“Right. Of course,” Therrin said. “You can trust me, sir. Coyne will be fine with those fellas. Killers and beasts they are. No one will come within an arm’s length of him.” ”

Alaric could tell there was a hint of uncertainty in the boy no matter what he was saying. Careful. Don’t scare him off.

“I’d never doubt you, Therrin. It’s Lilly that I’m concerned about.”

“Why sir?”

“That is the mystery. A mystery I’d like you to solve for me.” Therrin cracked his knuckles, looked at the floor. “Can you do that for me?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Excellent!” Alaric clapped his hands together softly. “Now, let’s take care of this so we can eat.”

The notion to find a Medicalist had occurred to Alaric mere hours after escaping the Lotus Queen. One such healer had done just enough for him to create the seam on his chest, but would go no further, claiming Alaric’s wounds were beyond salvation. He could still remember the man’s words like they were being spoken to him on a loop. No matter what they say, time does not heal all wounds. The man had been staring at the pitiful looking seam down Alaric’s chest when he had said it, shaking his head in amazement that Alaric was alive to begin with. He had left him there, in his home, to die. But even death had to play by Alaric’s terms.

Therrin is nothing like that pitiful scum. He has a desire to heal others and though he cannot free me of this terrible fate, he can make it much more tolerable. What better leverage to hold over others than the ability to relieve them of their pain…

“Would you mind laying down for me, sir.” Therrin gave him a smile that gripped him for a moment. Made him stare at the young man with admiration. It reminded him of when Wicket held others by the strings attached to their emotions. Am I the fool? Is charisma and charm just as dangerous whether it is magical or not?

“Sir,” Therrin said again. Softly. “Would you mind?” He gestured for Alaric to lay down.

As soon as he laid his head on the pillow the urge to fall asleep set in but he was unwilling to fall asleep.

Therrin rolled up his sleeves. He was gentle, like any healer should be. Caring. Thoughtful. Diligent.

“I hate to ask sir...” Alaric didn’t require the young man to finish the awkward question he could tell Therrin wanted to ask.

Alaric closed his eyes, his caramel-skinned nightmare glared at him. He refused to flee her gaze as he recounted his experience with the Lotus Queen. “I was fooled by a lying bitch…”

*~~~**~~~*

The Stonerock Inn was three stories, the first of which was the lobby and pub, the second was entirely dedicated to dining and gambling, and the top offered the beautifully decorated rooms that were kept warm and stocked with free wine and entertainment, if the murals could count as such. Hard to argue that they weren’t. He and the others were in the busy, but efficient, second floor dining hall, sitting at one end of an incredibly long table fit for a royalty. The décor resembled the interior of a castle, suits of armor stood in the corners and the wooden walls had been painted to look like stone, for ambiance he figured. Was it as beautiful as a real royal dining hall? Absolutely not. But a small part of him did find the environment enjoyable and capable of bringing about the desired effect. Earlier in the meal, the waiter had explained that the décor was changed each month to keep things lively and exciting. There were two bars on either side of the room. Above one a sign read, kings above the other, queens, but men and women stood at both, talking and drinking casually. Not like the raucous crowds of criminals and ne'er do wells that flocked to The Black Boar Inn.

He stared at the other end of the table as he waited for Therrin to finish his second bowl of stew. Lilly Pattick stared back at him. She reminded him of his mother, long blonde hair, thick but not heavy, and an unforgettable smile. Admittedly, he had not seen anything close to a smile on Lilly’s face since leaving Thronerock, but before that, he had seen her light up the dismal rooms of skeevy inn with ease. It was no wonder James was growing closer to her by the day, whether he’d admit it or not. Truth be told though, Lilly was far too good for Jameson Wicket. Which was the biggest reason he had sent them in different directions when he had the chance. And even if she wasn’t, he needed her all to himself. Intuitionists were one of, if not the rarest type of Purist. Lilly’s ability to sense danger, bad intentions, even bad luck, made her truly special and immensely useful to have around. He wanted her angelic presence to cherish protecting him. Not some fool that spent years mistakenly aiding their greatest enemy. Alaric had no intention of letting her out of her sight until he was done with her. Sadly, Lilly’s protection was something he feared he would have to force now that the woman was so annoyed with him. That, or she would only care when things were too bad to ignore.

Therrin dropped his spoon into the bowl with a clank and leaned back in his chair. He patted his stomach and smiled at Alaric. “Delicious.”

The waiter came to the table just as Alaric was about to open his mouth. He rolled his eyes. Manaya Flame stood instantly and helped stack plates and gather mugs for the man. When the waiter was unable to carry all the dishes she followed him with as many mugs on her long, slinger fingers as she could hold. He watched her go. Her burgundy shirt barely grazed the top of her pants. Her caramel skin peeked out from beneath her shirt every few steps. She reminded him of his nemesis in many ways. And not just because of her appearances. Manaya killed with the same ruthlessness as Iris, just for the opposite cause. Just be glad she’s on your side.

Tripelthin looked at the others and began babbling on Manaya’s customs. Nothing Alaric cared much about. So, rather than listen, he stared mindlessly around the dining hall, thinking about the terrible news he was about to deliver to the others.

Manaya returned to the table, her face as stoic as always. When she sat back down beside Tripelthin she nodded at Alaric. Her brown eyes were glossy, almost faded. Incredible eyes. And my best chance at learning the formula. Assuming I can catch that little bastard, Urman.

Alaric leaned forward in his chair. Time to break the bad news. How often I must do so nowadays. He dug into his breast pocket and revealed a handful of hard candy. Therrin took his happily. The others denied. “We have to make an unexpected stop… in the Emerald Wood.” As expected, four speechless Purists, four concerned faces.

Alaric felt like their little portion of the long table was isolated in a bubble of silence as the room around them continued to chatter.

Tripelthin spoke just before Alaric. “Sir.”

“I know,” he said. “It’s not ideal.”

“Not ideal.” Tripelthin scoffed. “It’s downright foolish.”

“Hardly.” There was little conviction in Alaric’s voice. Tripelthin wasn’t buying it. “I suppose that’s why I keep you by my side though, isn’t it,” he said. “To make sure I know just how foolish each difficult choice I have to make is.”

Tripelthin rubbed his finger and thumb together nervously. Something he did regularly when he was itching to start a fire. Starting fires was to Tripelthin what destroying things was to Alaric; a stress reliever.

Manaya stared at him, it was her way of asking permission to speak during important discussions. He nodded.

“There is too much evil in that forest. We have no business there. Whatever lies within will make its way out eventually. We should seize it then.”

“I understand everyone’s concern, but it is final.”

“If the boss says we’re going into the death forest, we’re going into the death forest,” Lilly said. There was doubt laced beneath the confident look on her face.

Manaya stared, waiting to be acknowledged, then stood and walked away angrily.

“She’s right to be angry,” Tripelthin said. “You said we were going to Locke not-”

“And we are, but we have to go to the Heart of the Emerald first..”

“The Heart of the Emerald” Therrin said nervously. “Why would we go there?”

“To visit an old friend. He-”

“Does old friend actually mean enemy?” Tripelthin interrupted. Alaric’s silence answered for him. “Kathar?” Alaric nodded. “Urman?” Another nod. Tripelthin’s chair scraped the floor as he walked away in a huff. He headed toward Manaya who had found a place at the bar.

Alaric looked at his younger soldiers. Therrin looked nervous. Lilly was smiling but he could tell it was a facade. It bothered him.

“Lilly.”

She sat up straighter. “Aye.”

“Would you mind getting me another ale?” he asked. “My legs are tired from the ride.” Seldom had he seen such a lack of enthusiasm in someone having to do something for another.

She was a few steps from the table when she froze. She turned back to him. The fear in her eyes stopped his mind in its tracks. He knew before she said it.

“Lotus.”

*~~~**~~~*

For a moment, everything was purple. There was only a split second to pull the commoner beside him in front of himself. The human shield let out a gasp as the energy singed his chest and neck. Alaric threw the body down, it crashed into the table they had just eaten at and fell to the ground with its arms and legs flailing in every direction but how they should look. The Lotus that had thrown the blast at him was small and looked as quick as lightning. She took a step toward Alaric but snapped to her left a moment later, raising her shortsword in a last ditch effort to block Manaya’s swift hack. He could barely hear the clank of steel on steel over the screaming patrons around him.

More Lotus were piling in through both doors that led from the surrounding corridors into the dining hall. He spotted at least half a dozen within the first few seconds. Large, small, armed, unarmed, all dressed in their leaf green gambesons. Each looked deadlier than the last.

Therrin yelled for help from the floor. Only mere patches of his brown jacket visible through the wave of legs all around him. Feet stomped with no care for what lay at their feet.

Another streak of energy. This time a woman was between him and the blast. By accident. None of the wealthy commoners were looking to save anyone but themselves. Her arms flailed as she spun around then crashed to the ground. An enormous Lotus had walked through the door. His eyes were locked on Alaric. A battleaxe hung at his side. He met the beast’s gaze with exactly no fear in his chest. Anxious anticipation. Sure. But fear. None at all. No false mage would bring him to his knees, put him in his grave. He was so sure of himself that he allowed himself to contemplate how they found themselves in the midst of an ambush rather than preparing to fight the incoming threat. This must be the work of my informants.

There was a strong grip on his elbow. Lilly. She wore her concern on her face. No longer did she look at him with disdain. How opinions change when danger looms.

“Therrin’s down!” she yelled. A streak of energy sailed just over their heads. Lilly ducked and spun away instinctively despite the blast being well past them. Her white blouse was lost in the chaos between them a moment later.

There were flashes of Manaya’s long, sleek sword near the bar. It clashed with a heftier blade wielded by a Lotus man. The Lotus disengaged with a swift lunge backward. His hand began to stretch forward, ready to blast Manaya across the room but she snatched his wrist with blazing speed. He lurched forward awkwardly as she yanked, her blade slid through his thick alchemical gambeson incredibly smoothly. Alaric took a quick mental note, curious about how she had torn through the armor so easily.

The Lotus beast was closing in slowly with his own reassured confidence.

Lilly was pulling Therrin to his feet when she pointed behind Alaric. He turned to see another Lotus making his way across the room, just as big as the one in front of him. This one looked even more like Garth than the other. He was cutting down commoners with his axe between blasts of his magic.

Alaric’s sword was in his room. A dagger will cut a helpless man’s throat just as easily. He grabbed a dagger from his waist and released his magical grip on his chest. A stretching feeling tugged at his skin and bones instantly. Quickly. He exhaled, locked eyes with the Lotus that had an uncanny resemblance to Garth. The brute smirked, Alaric mimicked him arrogantly as he extended his arm, palm open. The Lotus’ chest was turned, the axe raised above his back shoulder. He took two small, rapid shuffles and turned his shoulders even further to unleash a hellacious swing through Sampson’s torso. A warmth flushed through Alaric’s body. The Lotus froze. His axe mid-swing. Plenty of time. Alaric scoffed and walked toward his enemy, his clenched fist holding every fiber in the Lotus’ body completely still.

There was a grunt behind him.

He released the brute in front of him. Gripped the one that was now behind him. Spun on a heel. The second Lotus was too far away to kill with a swipe of his blade. Dammit. A tad rusty on my timing. The first Lotus was moving again, no longer stunned by what had happened to him. Alaric back pedaled and turned. The Lotus had his axe over his head with both hands choking the handle angrily. Saliva flew through the air as he let out an intimidating shout. It was cut off though as Alaric released the frozen Lotus behind him, lunged at the angry Lotus, now under Alaric’s control. The dagger slid through the man’s throat, just above his collarbone. Little resistance there. The Lotus stared at him just as angrily as before, his frozen body waited patiently to react to the pain in his neck. Release. Grip. Spin. The remaining Lotus’s hand was outstretched, fingernails glowing purple, filthy magic tantalizingly close to bursting from within. Plenty of time. There was a thud behind him as the dead Lotus collapsed to the ground. Alaric took his time with this one. Stepped closer. Grinned. Whispered something for only the Lotus’s ear to hear. It drew no external reaction from the frozen man, but he knew internally, the Lotus was screaming for help. The blade moved across the tender flesh of the Lotus’s throat in a blurry streak. Had Alaric been younger, had his magic been less precious to him, he would have made a mockery of the man’s standing corpse. But as it was, every drop of magic left in his soul was necessary to keep himself alive. He released his grip on the Lotus and watched him fall.

“Sir! Look out!” He wasn’t sure who yelled it but he heard it. He ducked, the energy missed him narrowly.

He glanced up just in time to see Manaya Flame leaping from atop a table, soaring through the air. Her long, black braid stretched behind her. Her dagger plunged into the small Lotus’ skull just as her feet hit the ground. They both tumbled to the ground in a wild ball of death and fury.

Suddenly, he noticed the room felt hot. There was a fire engulfing the bar, bottles and glasses were shattering and exploding in the heat. Trip. There’s always a reason to start a fire in his mind.

He spotted Therrin kneeling behind an overturned bench he had been sitting at during dinner. He was crouched over a body. The fire was crawling across the room as if it had a mind of its own and that mind wanted Therrin to burn in the three hells.

“Therrin!” he screamed. He was on the move again. Adrenaline pumping. A Lotus spotted him. A streak of energy flashed from her fingertips. He dropped to the floor. Gripped his dagger tight and let go. As it had countless times before, it found its mark. The mark being the woman’s face. The blade was buried to its hilt just below her left eye. She stumbled but didn’t fall immediately.

Manaya ran through his line of sight, ripped Alaric’s weapon from the woman, holding her up with the other hand, then stabbed her in the throat. She ripped the dagger out of the flesh and let the Lotus collapse to the floor. When she turned to face him, her eyes were wide, intense, deadly. There was blood all over her face and chest. She pointed at the fire in silence then sped off, presumably to find Tripelthin, like she always did.

Alaric climbed to his feet. There was still screaming throughout the pub but no fighting.

“Therrin!” The young man looked at him over his shoulder. There was a grim look on his face.

Alaric could see just a bit of Lilly’s white blouse in front of the healer. It was covered in blood.

“Wait!’ Alaric said.

“What?! She’s dying.”

He was beside Therrin now, looking down at Lilly’s unconscious body. “Give her only enough to keep her alive.”