XIV. The Grateful Undead

A gentle breeze blew the silk curtains in front of the open balcony double doors. Renata’s villa was elaborately decorated and furnished with upholstered armchairs and sofas covered in decorative pillows. Statuettes upon marble pedestals, exotic plants, and a large vanity mirror filled her room. Aichlan looked himself over, confused as to whether this were real or a dream. He looked and felt as he did before his entire ordeal began his uniform crisp and clean, body uninjured. He stepped out tentatively into the warm night air, still unsure as to whether this was a dream, or he had just awoken from a nightmare.

The villa lay atop a cliff, overlooking the port of Nassica. Behind him, Renata lay upon her canopied bed, draped in a thin silk sheet. She lay on her side with her back to Aichlan, her feminine curves were alluring and seemed to beckon him to her.

He advanced with trepidation, trying not to awaken her with his booted footsteps. The wispy tendrils of incense smoke stung his eyes as he passed through. His heart rate climbed, as he got closer. He gingerly sat next to her and reached out to caress her naked shoulder, delicately tracing her outline with hovering fingers that gave barely a tickle.

Aichlan was struck by inconsistencies in his memory, whereas Renata’s skin was pale, this woman’s was tanned as one who worked outdoors for a living. A bikini brassiere barely contained a full chest marked by inky black flames and representations of a river of fire that made its way down her side to road-worn feet. The opulence of Renata’s bedchambers too faded away, replaced by crude and cheap wooden furniture. He blinked; certain this was all merely a dream. He traced the geometric and organic shapes etched into her soft flesh. The moonlights reflection caught upon earrings that made their way up the ear. The thin sheet he saw had turned into a wool blanket restlessly kicked to the foot of the bed in the summer night heat.

Aichlan traced the lavas flow down powerful thighs and firm buttocks, lay to bare a thong wedged between full cheeks. The woman stirred and groggily sat up, raising a tattooed hand to brush flame-red locks from her almond-shaped eyes.

“Welcome back tae the world of the living.” Ashe yawned and stretched, looking to the clock that ticked steadily upon the wall.

The sparsely furnished room was tiny, with room only for a dresser and dining table. The walls were made of stone, but unlike most inn rooms of its size, there was no fireplace. A large wall clock hung across from them, ticking gently, almost drowned out by the sound of nocturnal insects.

“Three hours ‘til dawn. Bloody hell, you’re an early riser.”

She drew her knees up to her chest and wiggled her toes, cracking several knuckles, a smile upon her weary face. He had a feeling it was not just due to the late (or early) hour as memory flooded back to him. He looked down at his chest, naked except for bandages upon his abdomen and shoulder.

“Ye gave us quite a scare, love.”

“How long have I been out?” he asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Ashe looked up and pursed her lips in thought. “I’d say ‘bout a day, maybe day an’ a half.”

Aichlan felt his heart sink. Whilst he was laid up in recovery, Osric continued his murdering spree unhindered. He still made no progress towards saving Renata. The pangs of guilt hit him once again, and he wondered if he really was concerned with her fate or if he had bought into his own deception.

“Where are we?”

Despite the open window and enchanted fan circulating the air, the room was swelteringly hot. Ashe noticed his uncomfortable look and smiled.

“We're in Eefrit and it’s the seventh of Goldsun, so get used to the heat.”

They made it to the Colby-Nau nation of Rhode at last. Though it was nowhere near the capital, at least he was somewhat closer to his destination. Ashe had a tired look in her eyes, and not simply from the late hour.

“Have you been with me the whole time?”

She smiled weakly again. “Mostly. Ya sleep like the dead, ye know that?”

He recalled the battle in the wraith wood. Anticipating his concerns, she placed a finger to his lips and shushed him.

“Please, daen’t trouble yerself just yet. All will be explained in the morning, so please, go back tae sleep.”

He held her hand as she tried to pull it back.

“What is it?”

Her pulse had increased, he saw her breast rise and fall more rapidly, and he did not know if it was concern, desire, or simply his imagination.

“Aichlan…?”

Maybe it was delirium, or the heat. Aichlan did not care, no longer willing to deny what his heart and body so desperately wanted. He leaned forward and kissed her, tentatively at first, then with increasing passion. He caressed her cheek and neck with his hand as she reached down and unfastened his trousers. He laughed before it was lost to passionate kissing. It seemed she wanted it as desperately as he did. He allowed her to maneuver him out of his trousers and boxers as he untied the strap behind her neck, freeing her breast from their cloth cage. Her nipples were pierced, both areolae tattooed. The left marked with the corona of the sun, the right encircled in moonbeams.

She untied the lower knot and cast the brassiere across the room as he placed the sun nipple in his mouth, massaging the moon with his free hand. He felt her twitch and heard a sharp intake of breath as he slid his hand into her panties, which she hurriedly kicked off. He laid a trail of kisses from between her breast, down her undulating abdomen, licking the perimeter of the tattoo that circled her ringed navel.

Finally, unable to withstand any more foreplay, she yanked his head free by the hair and looked in his eyes with the flames of passion burning in her own, and demanded something in elfish. He rose and locked lips as their bodies locked in passion. She leaned forward and grasped him by the hair, bringing his mouth down to her own, thrusting a pierced tongue into his mouth to duel with his. She flipped him violently onto his back and assumed the dominant position, slowly working her hips as Aichlan explored her body with eager fingers, their bodies’ slick with sweat from passion and heat of the night.

“I hate to admit it t’was worth the wait, but…” Ashe whispered into his ear before biting down on the lobe.

“I had plenty of time to build up for it let’s say.” He replied as he played with her nipple rings.

Pleasurable spasms wracked his body as she clamped down in simultaneous ecstasy. She dismounted and nuzzled against his chest, his arm encircling her.

“You’re mine now, Aichlan. Ye realize that, daen’t ya?”

“What do you mean?” He asked as she crossed her leg with his own.

“I won’t share ye with that other woman. If she wants ye, she can fight me for ye.”

Aichlan laughed a bit uneasily. She was dead serious and he knew it.

“Are all women of Rhode so forwardly aggressive?”

“Only when a lover of yer caliber is at stake.” She smiled as if able to feel his swelling ego.

Aichlan tightened his grip; he knew he was not willing or maybe able to forsake Renata completely. He really had no idea what he wanted anymore.

“Aichlan?”

“I’m not going anywhere, I swear. So please, don’t kill my sovereign.”

Ashe smiled and closed her eyes. “We’ll see.”

Aichlan stared into the darkness, the air thick with the smell of their passion and fast evaporating sweat. He closed his eyes, hoping he had not lied to her, certain she would hold him to his word regardless.

* * *

Alice entered the small room Ashe had occupied while overseeing Aichlan’s recovery. She nearly dropped the tray that carried Ashe’s breakfast upon seeing the two nude lovers, asleep in each other’s embrace. She blushed and smiled as she realized the source of last night’s creaking and moaning.

“If now is an inopportune time—” she began loudly.

Aichlan awoke with a start and, upon seeing her in the doorway, he grinned widely, and fumbled to cover himself with a pillow upon realizing his state of undress.

“I can bring breakfast later.” She finished dryly.

“Don’t you knock?” He demanded.

Alce turned up her nose and attempted to hide her smirrk. “Not when the only occupants are a concerned woman and an injured, unconscious man.”

Ashe awoke and groggily rubbed her eyes with a stretch. “G’mornin’, Alice.”

“Good morning, Ashe. I trust you had a pleasant evening,” she replied cheekily.

Aichlan flung a pillow at her; she ducked out of the way sticking her tongue out at him as she left, slamming the door behind her. With glee, she skipped off to her own room, careful not to spill.

* * *

Aichlan dressed as Ashe watched, her head propped upon her hand. He had removed the bandages; he was completely healed, aside from heavy scarring. Ashe had made him a new mail hauberk out of a mysterious gold and silver colored alloy. The chains were tightly woven, and one could not even put their pinky finger between the links. She had reworked his leather gauntlets for greater flexibility. His tabard, still ragged and stained, had been stitched, and it was cleaned to the best of her ability.

“Why daen’t ye get rid o’ that rag, Aichlan?”

He shrugged as he slid the baggy garment over his head. Its blue trim was dull and frayed and its white, more grey than anything. The emblem of the sun cresting the horizon on his chest was frayed, several rays of the stylized sun had come unstitched and flapped freely, tackily.

“Then I’d be out of uniform.” He shrugged. “It shouldn’t matter at this point, but it does at the same time. Pride, I suppose.”

It was not too far from the truth. Aichlan had taken great pride in his uniform and what it signified. It seemed a long time ago now. It was hard for him to recall what it was that drove him; it all seemed so distant and irrelevant.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

“Why?” Ashe said with a strecth and a yawn.. “Look, yer already sweatin’.”

She was right; though it could not be later than nine or ten in the morning it was already hot as the realm of Dusk was cold. A knock came at the door, and she sprang to her feet, snatching up her clothes and dressing with an irritated groan.

“One moment please,” Aichlan called through the door as she wiggled into her baggy pants, and tied on her brassiere.

When she was sufficiently dressed, he opened the door to be greeted by Eth’s mischievous grin. Aichlan frowned, not willing to hear the obligatory machismo remarks. He tried to block Eth’s path, but the man would not be stopped and he pushed his way past, still grinning ear to ear.

“Been doin’ a bit o spelunkin’ in the fire mines I ‘ear? Eh?” Eth nudged Aichlan in the ribs repeatedly, winking his eye.

How many people had Alice managed to tell in such a short time? Aichlan wondered while forcing a grin. Before he could respond, Eth thrust his presumed lost sword into his chest. The sheath was polished ebon; the silver was now sterling, and new leather wrapped the hilt. Someone had even done a fine job of sharpening his blade and polishing it for him.

“Try an’ keep a be’er grip on it next time eh? Spent a whole day scourin’ that bleedin’ forest fer tha bloody thin’. I woulda had ya go yerself but ye were too busy plowin’ fields an’ plantin’ seeds huh?”

Eth seemed to find great humor in his crude innuendos as he pushed past Aichlan with a jab to the shoulder. Alice slid in before he could say anything edgewise, carrying a tray of half-eaten eggs, bacon fat and the crusts from a few slices of toast. She set it down on the nightstand and crossed the room.

She had pinned her hair up with chopsticks and wore the summer garb of the Black Mage Academy, a short black skirt and white blouse with wide laced sleeves, a narrow black tie completed the ensemble. The most noticeable addition was the rectangular spectacles with black ceramic arms.

“What a dreadful country you people live in!” Alice whined as she crossed the room to its single window. “There’s no respite from this horrid heat! I’ve several blouses ruined due to excessive perspiration!”

She angrily flung two runes at the window, one pale blue and the other light green. A chill wind ensued, all breathed a sigh of instant relief from the ice, and wind spells. Aichlan was ravenous after a day recuperating and last night’s activity and chose to ignore her as he set his sights on the food scraps she had brought. He was dismayed however to see that Ashe was already shoveling the remnants of the eggs into her mouth with her hand. He was about to chastise Alice about it when Fiora entered with a fresh tray for two.

“I figured my Lord would be hungry after…” She blushed and trailed off.

Aichlan shot Alice an evil look; she took a seat and looked away innocently. “Yes, thank you Fiora.”

Fiora exchanged the empty tray with the fresh one and took a seat next to Alice. Eth posted against the wall as Kielan entered, followed by Cetius and Clarissa; and to everyone’s surprise, Ransom, who leaned against the doorway. Cetius sat in the armchair and began packing his pipe, Kielan sat at the table with Fiora and Alice while Clarissa sat at Eth’s feet.

“In another day, I would have been forced to leave you m’boy.” Cestius lit his pipe and blew several smoke rings. “Glad to see you alive and active.”

Light! How many people had that woman told? Aichlan thought angrily as his face flushed. The bishop seemed to ignore him however, as he smoked idly. He undoubtedly knew of his affair with Renata. He could not help but feel that the Bishop was passing judgment on him, though in reality it was likely just his own guilty conscious. Regardless, he made a mental note never to speak of sensitive matters in front of their gossiping mage.

“I’m afraid Sister Clarissa brings troubling news regarding Osric’s plans; an artifact was stolen from the temple in Catharone. A stone tablet covered in the dead tongue of our ancestors that has a connection to the Black Gate.” Cetius toked on his pipe as he continued. “It’s a key of sort, part one of two. That is why they were kept separated by so vast a distance.”

Dreading the answer, Aichlan asked anyway. “What’s part two?”

Leucetius handed him a letter, it was written in Rhodarcian and he quickly recognized it as the one Antares had carried. While it made sense to send more than one courier with such information, it did not explain why Laelianus had chosen a nun.

“Blood of the Maiden set as keeper of the gate. Currently that gatekeeper is your charge, Aichlan, the Priestess Renata.”

Aichlan leaned against the headboard as he digested the information. If she was the key Osric sought, perhaps she was not as safe on the isle Therion; she may have in fact gone right where he wanted her. He suddenly understood the man’s absurd tactics, or seemingly lack thereof.

“So Osric was after the Priestess all along, which explains his haste somewhat. He was putting all his efforts and resources into reaching the Black Gate. All else was immaterial.”

However, if that were the case, this mission would have been a failure. It was obvious something happened, likely the gate had already been opened and Renata dead. Could that be why I fell in the forest? Aichlan pondered, oblivious to the other suggestions and hypotheticals fielded by his comrades.

“Could he have opened it already? I mean, how else could the recently felled rise again as if nothing happened?” Fiora asked with a hint of anxiety.

“Why the devil would he want to open it?” Aichlan mused aloud. “If he wants to go to hell so badly I’ve a sword that’d be more than sufficient.”

“I will need to look into the matter further; my knowledge of the Black Gate is, limited.” Cetius stared absentmindedly into the glyphs as he smoked.

“There are sages of southern Asketill, I only hear rumors mind you, but there are those who can raise the dead.” Alice posited hesitantly.

“Yes, I know him, them. Their power is not to this magnitude, as far as I know.” Cetius said dismissively. “No, this is something else.”

Kielan crossed his arms and tried to warm himself discreetly. “The Black Gate is a portal to the land o’ Dusk, isn’t it?”

Cetius nodded in response.

“What the hell is in there? What could he hope to accomplish?” Kielan finished, frustration evident in his tone.

Cetius chewed the tip of his pipe thoughtfully. “It is said that Abigor, the behemoth credited with our worlds creation, had amassed an army of damned souls and beasts exiled by the Saint Cecily.”

“He has an army greater than any else on Silex! What use could he possibly have for another? He already decimated a continent!” Aichlan shouted a bit too passionately.

He found it increasingly difficult to keep his composure. Far too much had occurred in so short a time, and he felt his control over his own life (or afterlife as it were) was near nonexistent.

“That is why I must look into the matter further. My area of study was in…” Cetius trailed off, not finishing his thought.

He dumped his pipe and stood, grinding the ash beneath his sandaled foot.

“I don’t know where I will go but if you need me, I will find you all.” He abruptly turned to leave, stopping in the doorway. “I don’t know what prerequisites you’ve met to obtain your current life Aichlan, but until whatever criteria are met, stay away from funerals.”

Cestius left before anyone could question him further. Aichlan had many more questions, and wanted desperately to follow him, but was relieved to be rid of one mystery. The funeral rites that nearly killed him after all. This revelation only served to open another set of conundrums, such as what exactly his state of existence was in the world.

“What the hell was that about?” Ashe asked as she bit into a slice of toast slathered in jam.

“It was nothing...”

He was not willing to explain his situation yet. It was just too much of a gamble at this point; he did not need them doubting his sanity before they even reached Rhode. Ransom caught everyone’s attention by clapping his hands together once and rubbing them eagerly.

“So, where’s this lil’ party off to next?”

Clarissa wrinkled her nose and shrank back in disgust. “Who said you were invited?”

He ignored her and chuckled to himself. “I still haven’t gotten paid little lady.”

“We never initiated a contract Mister Ransom; therefore, no payment is due from our, well, unit I suppose would be the best term. Not to be ungrateful for the services rendered however.”

Aichlan tried to be as cordial as he could, despite essentially telling Ransom to take a hike. He had no patience for anything at that moment, particularly cutthroats and sell swords. The man was a criminal, and had left Clarissa to die in the woods. Despite her annoying tendencies and how she ruined his battle plans, that did not change the fact that she too was a member of The Order, and thus under his purview of protection.

“I didn’t expect much, just the pleasure of accompanying you all to Duvachellé. I prefer the joys of traveling in a group.”

In other words, he wanted protection if he ran into some old foes or law enforcement, though the latter was unlikely in these times of war. Aichlan had run into his type many times before, on both sides of the battlefield. Nevertheless, he was thankful that Ransom reminded him about the destination. He had not much given it thought until now, what did he actually hope to accomplish? He did not really think he could raise some remnant army to face Osric, despite telling himself otherwise. Duvachellé was in political turmoil before the war; he did not want to consider what it was like now. It was unlikely that Laelianus would even be willing or able to aid them, at least not on terms he would be happy with. However, if Osric’s goal was Elysia, now may be the only time to mount a counteroffensive.

“Kielan, how many elves can we count on for support?”

Kielan made his way to the corner furthest from the window and its arctic gale. “It depends upon the council’s decision. We daen’t have an army in the same sense as Sorn or Elysia; an army is formed by tribes who agree upon a cause or whatever. It’s a bureaucracy.”

“It’s a pain in the bloomin’ arse is wha’ it is.” Eth adds.

It sounded like a bunch of wasted time and arguments, just the kind of expediency he needed at this critical junction, but it seemed the whole bloody campaign was a critical something or another. He was sick of it all, of being highly strung and constantly set back, his conflicting emotions; he needed a break. However, there was no rest for the wicked, and according to Garrick, that was he. He massaged his temples, but it yielded him no comfort.

“There is the Matrons Rebirth festival coming up, I’m certain some agreement can be reached.” Ashe added hoping to ease some of Aichlan’s stress as she rubbed his back.

Any help at all would be appreciated, though the act may prove futile in the end. He tried to shake any negative thoughts from his head.

“I sent the rest ahead to Rhode; they will tell oor story tae the council and notify the families…” Kielan paused trying to remain indifferent passive, as he too was growing frustrated at their predicament. “Cinaéd will take care o’ things on that end. I give my word.”

Aichlan wondered how many had fallen in the forest, but did not want to upset his hosts. He felt slightly guilty, if it were not for him, would they still have encountered those men in the wood? There were many what ifs and should haves Aichlan could think of at the moment, and despite the futility of such thinking he just couldn’t shake the thoughts.

“If yer up tae it, I’d like to set oot tomorrow naight.” Kielan rapped on the wall to get his attention “Aichlan?”

He snapped back to attention. “Yes, that would be fine.”

Kielan looked at him as if to say ‘are you sure?’ and he did his best to smile reassuringly.

“Really, I’m fine; I’ve had more than enough recovery time.”

Kielan looked Aichlan over before finally nodding his approval. “Tomorrow night then. I suggest ye awl take this time tae rest and procure supplies fer the journey ahead. The Death Marsh and Fire Plains o’ Rhode are known to be unforgiving.” Kielan motioned for Eth to follow as he left the room.

Alice rose hastily and grabbed Fiora by the hands. “I want to find one of those magic satchels like Kielan has.” She sang.

“Can’t it wait till winter?” Fiora groaned in protest.

Not taking no for an answer, she dragged Fiora out of the chair. The young knight was already sweating profusely. Her tunic clung to her skin, intimating that she was wearing nothing underneath it.

“We can get something cool to wear, like Ashe’s outfit.” Alice said with a giggle as Fiora stopped with a gasp and blushed.

“But then I’d be naked!”

“Ooh! So modest!” Alice scolded as she skipped out of the room, dragging Fiora behind her.

Ransom turned and left with a casual wave of the hand. “I’m going back to bed. Death Marsh and Fire Plains sound like unnecessary trouble to me.”

Clarissa blew a raspberry as he left. “Good riddance. So,” she asked hopefully. “What’s on zee schedule today?”

“Aichlan needs to rest.” Ashe responded curtly.

The nun seemed hurt at her rejection, and though Aichlan did not know her, he felt sorry for her.

Eth casually walked by, and seizing the opportunity to be rid of the young woman, Ashe cried out to him. “Oi! Eth!”

He stopped, and as always, looked annoyed. “Wha’ is it?” He snapped.

“Where ya headed Eth?” She asked cheerily.

“Wha’s it t’ye?” He narrowed his eyes accusingly.

“Bloody hell Eth jus’ answer the question.” She snapped.

“…Goin’ out, mayhap pick up something’ fer the wife. What’s it to ya huh?”

Clarissa stood and attempted to smooth out her torn gown. “If you are going shopping Sir Eth, I would like to accompany you.” She had a way of making her request sound like an order to a servant. Aichlan wondered what kind of convent she came from.

“Yeah? Tough shit an’ I ain’t no bleedin’ ‘sir’.”

Ashe hastily interceded before Eth could walk away. “But, perhaps she could help ye find a suitable gift fer Io? No offense Eth, but yer not the romantic type.”

Eth contemplated the idea, looking Clarissa over. “Fine. Jus’ don’ get in me way.”

Clarissa squealed in joy and took Eth by the arm. He flinched reflexively and she tightened her grip.

“Oh, don’t you worry my surly little elf. I wouldn’t want you to trip and drop all my parcels.”

“Say what? That ain’t what I meant an’ you bloody well know it!”

Fortunately, Clarissa had mind enough to close the door behind her. Aichlan was still a bit moody, Cetius had left more questions unanswered than answered, and his muddled emotions were clouding his judgment. Then there was Sister Clarissa, an odd woman, and quite unlike any of the overly stern or coy nuns, he had encountered previously. It was quite unlike Laelianus to be so sloppy or to hire such obviously duplicitous individuals like that Ransom character. Ashe groaned and slapped his thigh.

“Stop making that face.”

He attempted a smile. “Sorry, there’s just a lot on my mind at the moment, it’s been a bad start to the morning is all.”

She slid her hand playfully into his trousers and he found himself able to grin genuinely from ear to ear.

“Well then,” she began as she gently stroked his growing organ. “Let’s start this morning right.”