Chapter XIII

Was this what it felt like to be dead? Numbness. Silence. Darkness. No, not even darkness. Blindness. If he had indeed died of his injuries, as he suspected, then the Father had already given his soul to the Mother, and she would create new life with it. He was no more, and yet he was somehow aware of that fact. Lost in nothingness. If this was what death was like he understood why so many religions sought to cheat it. Why so many lesser gods promised an afterlife.

But who was he? He remembered his faith. He vaguely remembered the faiths of others. He even remembered his injuries. Actually, now that he thought about it, he could not remember what those injuries were, or how he'd gotten them. Even as he tried to remember he found that his memory was fading. What was his faith again? He found himself forgetting. He remembered an intoxicating scent. The touch of her soft skin. He remembered a name. A beautiful name. What was this name to him? The scent was so strong in his memory. So perfect. So pure. It was attached to the name. Something about the name gave him joy and comfort. He tried to say it out loud. Perhaps speaking the syllables would bring back the memories.

“Evalina!” if he had said it out loud he'd not actually heard it, except in his own thoughts. What was this name to him? The name of someone special. He knew that. The name that belonged to the scent. As he thought on every syllable there was a comfort he felt in that nothingness all around him.

“Miserere Matris. Miserere Matris. Miserere Matris.”

He heard the chant. The words sounded familiar. What did they mean? He began to feel an unfamiliar sensation. No, the sensation was quite familiar. Pain. He felt pain all over. It started out intense, and he wanted to scream. But in time the pain subsided. What was that he saw? Light? Blackness in his peripheral vision, but light in the middle.

“Miserere Matris. Miserere Matris. Miserere Matris.”

Dario awoke. Above him was a white stone ceiling, with a face painted upon it. He recognized the face as the caring, compassionate visage of the Mother. Below him was a soft bed, and over his bare body were warm blankets. Beside him stood an elderly woman in clerical robes. An Acolyte of the Mother. She was the source of the chant, and as she chanted Dario could feel his broken bones set back into place and heal. All of his memories flooded back into his mind. He remembered now who he was and what had happened, though he did not remember how he got here.

More importantly, he remembered the name that he had cried out in that nothingness. Evalina. Dario cursed himself. It was Azalea whom he loved, why would he call out any other woman's name? He clenched his fists and ground his teeth, furious with himself for this inward betrayal.

“Does it still hurt?” asked the acolyte.

“Pardon?”

“Your injuries should all be healed by now, but you're clenching your jaw. Does it still hurt?”

“Umm...no, it doesn't hurt. Thank you,” said Dario. His target had gotten away, he'd nearly succumbed to an invisible tempter, and he'd inwardly betrayed Azalea. He'd have to take his victories where he could get them. He had not audibly called out Evalina's name, so no one would know. And he was alive. The acolyte had healed his wounds. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days,” said the acolyte. “Your injuries were severe, and the ride here could not have helped.”

Dario tried to shake off the dizziness in his head. “I rode here?”

“Not on purpose. Emylas found you and brought you back to the city astride his horse.”

“Emylas?” Dario asked. He'd never heard the name before, and yet the acolyte spoke it as if he should recognize it.

“If you want to thank him he's in our library, but you should rest just a little bit longer.”

Dario sighed and lowered his head onto the pillow again. “I've been unconscious for three days. You don't think that's rest enough?”

The acolyte laughed. “No. Being unconscious is not resting, not truly. Wait just a bit longer.”

“You know best,” said Dario.

“There was one scar of yours that made me wonder,” said the acolyte. She took his arm and turned the inside of his forearm upwards, revealing a scar perfectly perpendicular across his wrist. “You want to tell me what this one was about?”

Dario stared at the scar. When the wound had opened up during whatever spell he'd accepted it immediately closed again. It made no sense that there would be a scar from that. He certainly couldn't tell her the truth. He knew what the scar looked like, but if he claimed it was self-inflicted she'd just be suspicious that he had been so quick to admit to self-mutilation. “It happened during the fight,” he said.

“You weren't bleeding when Emylas found you.”

“The blade was hot,” said Dario. A flimsy excuse, and he knew it. “It must have cauterized the wound.”

The acolyte gave him a stern look. “Please, I know better than that. This is not a burn.”

“It's a battle scar!” Dario snapped at her. “As a justicar fighting is simply what I do. And when I fight I get scars now and then!”

“Alright!” the acolyte threw up her hands. “Fine! I won't push it. Just...be careful in the future...don't hurt yourself.”

Dario nodded. “I'll try.”

“Now that you're awake, you should know that you have a visitor,” said the acolyte.

“What?” Who could possibly want to visit him? Who did he even know in this city? “Oh...alright, send him in.”

“Her, actually,” said the acolyte as she went to the door.

Dario had only a moment to guess at the identity of his visitor before he was proven right. “Evalina...” he said, his voice now wavering as he said it. Now that he remembered everything, the sound of her name gave him no comfort. All he could think of was the deep-seeded betrayal within him.

There was that scent again as she entered the room. That combination of perfumes, lotions, and body oils that made him feel drunk every time she drew near.

How was it that this woman looked even more beautiful when she wore an expression of concern? “Dario!” Evalina said, in that sweet voice that made him feel both weaker and stronger. “You're healed! The acolyte wasn't sure she could save you.”

Dario shrugged, trying to seem casual and not at all flustered by her presence. “Well...I got better.”

Evalina sat on the edge of the bed. As the blankets shifted against his bare flesh Dario was reminded that underneath those covers he was naked. She was in such close proximity, and there were only a few pieces of cloth between them. Dario shifted his legs so that his unwilling excitement would not be visible.

“I'm so sorry I sent you into harm's way,” said Evalina, biting her lip. “I never should have told you about what happened to...I'm just glad you survived.”

“Don't blame yourself for what almost happened, Evalina,” said Dario. He reached out to touch her shoulder, comfortingly, but stopped his hand mere inches away and pulled it back. “It didn't happen. More importantly, facing such risks in the name of justice is my sworn duty.”

Evalina smiled at him. That enticing smile that made his heart dance. She reached out and touched his hand. How was it that her fingers were always so warm and soft? “You're so brave, Dario.”

His legs squirmed and he tried desperately to fight back the building desire within him. How much he wanted to take this woman then and there, rend her dress and have his way her. He imagined taking her in his strong arms, and her body surrendering to his touch as he explored every inch of her.

But he banished the images from his head and simply said, “Thank you.”

“No...thank you. I know, you didn't catch that murderer, but you tried.” Evalina looked into his eyes and bit her lower lip. Her pearly teeth and rose-petal lips complimented each other so nicely. Her hand left his and rested upon his defined chest. He caught his breath, and then she sealed his lips with hers. Their eyes closed as she kissed him deeply. His heart fluttered and waves of heat and cold washed over his skin. When her tongue teased the inside of his mouth and her nails trailed down his chest his desire overwhelmed him.

Dario took her by both of her shoulders and pulled her down beside him on the bed, her back across his pillow. Savagely, he smothered her neck in kisses and bit at her collar-bone. Evalina arched her neck, moaned, and ran her fingers through his curly black hair with one hand as her other hand raked her nails down his back.

“Oh, Dario...” she whispered between moans. Dario kissed between her cleavage, starving for her. His hands found the laces on the front of her dress and groped to untie them. He would have her. He had to have her. All the rest of existence melted away for this moment, this wonderful moment where all that existed was the two of them and the comforting bed.

“Evalina!” The voice was not Dario's, but rather came from the now-open door across the room. Dario cursed that the door had not been locked. There stood a middle-aged man in the doorway. Judging by his clothes he worked at the inn. For only a moment Dario considered strangling him, but he quickly reminded himself that the stranger had done nothing to deserve that.

“I'm a little busy,” said Evalina with a giggle. “Can't this wait?”

“You're needed at the inn,” said the man.

“Now? Right fecking now?” she said, with obvious frustration in her voice.

“Yes...it's about one of the girls...” he said, with obvious concern in his. “If you don't...well, there might be consequences from...” the stranger glanced at Dario, then back at Evalina. He was implying something, and Evalina seemed to recognize it. Whatever he was implying seemed to fill Evalina with fear.

Evalina looked up at Dario and said, “I...I'm sorry, but I have to go.”

“What?” Dario asked. “What's this about?”

Evalina rose from the bed and re-tied her laces. “I'm sorry, Dario. Duty calls.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and rushed out the door.

Dario sat in confusion and defeat as he watched her walk out the door. Once again he had been so close, and she'd left just before he could reach his goal. He could still feel the soft warmth of her body on his lips and his fingertips. That forbidden passion was just within his grasp, and now was gone.

Then he remembered Azalea, and cursed himself. How was it that he forgot all about the woman he loved the moment Evalina drew close to him? What power did she have that drove him mad every time she came near? How could he be so stupid? Was he truly nothing more than an animal? Yes, he'd been physical with other women, but it was just that: physical. And often it was more to keep their secret than out of any actual desire.

However, if he had gone through with what he'd attempted to do with Evalina then and there he knew that it would not be merely to relieve basic, natural urges. He couldn't get this woman out of his head. He constantly found himself thinking about Evalina and all of the mystery surrounding her, far more so than about the woman he loved. Had he no sense of loyalty whatsoever? Dario hung his head and cried, swallowed in shame and self-loathing. Justicars were called upon to be of higher moral caliber than other men, but he had proven that in his case this was far from true.

He needed to take a step in the right direction, and take his mind off of everything. Something, anything to distract him from everything about Evalina that was so tempting, and from the weight on his soul. Something simple. The acolyte had mentioned someone named Emylas, the man who'd found Dario and brought him back to the city. He'd find this man and thank him for his assistance, perhaps even figure out some way to return the favor. Yes, a reward for a good deed.

Dario found his clothes nearby and dressed. For the time being, since he was still tired and weak, he left his armor off, but he took his sword with him.

Across the temple, past the altars and idols of the lesser gods, Dario found the library. Every shelf was lined with books on theology, as well as the scriptures of every faith represented in the temple, and even a few that had no altars there.

Dario heard a page turn and rounded a corner to see the source of this noise. Likely, it would be this Emylas that the acolyte had told him about.

As bright red cloth caught his eye Dario gasped. In the chair before him, reading from a large tome, sat the man from Dario's vision. The same man who had mysteriously disappeared into the crowd just a few days before. The man with the curled mustache and strip of a beard.

“Emylas?” Dario asked.

The stranger in red and gold looked up at him and closed his book. “Oh, my good man, you are awake. I was worried. Your injuries seemed so severe.”

“You're Emylas?” Dario looked him over, confirming without a doubt that this was the man from his vision. “The man who found me dying in the woods?”

Emylas stood from the chair, spread his arms wide, and bowed. “One and the same.”

Dario's mind was full of questions. He wanted to draw his sword and accuse this man of conspiracy with creatures below the surface. And it was more than a little suspicious that this man in particular just happened to stumble across him in the woods. That smug smile, as if he was hiding some great secret, certainly wasn't helping. What did Emylas have to be so satisfied about?

He wanted to ask him all sorts of questions, get answers from this man. Why was he in the vision? But Dario realized that he did not understand the vision. Perhaps this man was not seeking out the creatures under the ground for a sinister purpose, but for a benevolent one. There could be any number of reasons. For now it was best not to accuse him, lest he run away a second time. Dario might never find him again if he disappeared like he had before.

With all of these thoughts swimming in his head, all that Dario could bring himself to ask was, “What are you reading?”

“What? Oh. 'Legendary Lands and Peoples.' It's a compendium of myths and rumors about far-off lands, previously undiscovered. There's a land supposedly across the Western Sea where the people have perfected alchemy so much that they never age and they never die. There are stories of a land north of Shadia, where there is no soil but only ice. Supposedly the people there are covered from head to toe in white fur. Down in Subra it is said that there are men who have no heads, just faces in their chests.” Emylas placed a hand over his own chest, as if trying to demonstrate. “Then there are stories of a land between the surface world and the Agalmite Heaven. A vast civilization underground called Duat, inhabited by blind people with gray skin.”

“Do what?”

“No, Duat. It's pronounced 'do ought',” said Emylas with a chuckle. “Glad to see your sense of humor wasn't injured.”

Dario gave a courtesy laugh in return. “Tell me more about Duat.”

Emlyas gestured for Dario to take a seat next to him. Once Dario was seated Emylas began. “The first sightings of these underground people were by iron miners in Nihilus, about two hundred years ago. One particular miner reported that after a cave-in, and while he was digging his way out, he found this vast expanse of enormous tunnels. With what little light he had available he could see these huge monuments, shaped like cones carved from stone, with tiny, repeating patterns across them.” Emylas leaned in and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “On the walls of the tunnels there were strange symbols. He could barely see them, but he could run his fingers through the grooves of each one.” Emylas ran a hand along the wall as if he was feeling the symbols himself. “He said it seemed like some sort of language. Furthermore, he said he heard a strange shrieking noise, and became so frightened that he fled the opposite direction and eventually found the surface.”

“Fascinating...” Dario said, pretending all of this was a complete surprise.

“Oh ho ho, you haven't heard anything yet!” Emylas raised his finger and wagged it. “Not long after that, gold miners in Subra reported something similar. Two of them were deep underground and decided to stop and eat. Not long after they'd stopped they heard a sniffing sound in the shadows, and something drew closer and closer to them. One of them raised his lantern to see what it was,” Emylas raised a hand, as if he were holding a lantern. Dario had to applaud his method of story-telling, “And for a brief moment he saw what looked like a small man with gray skin, no eyes, and big ears. Whatever it was shrieked loudly and then scurried away into the darkness.”

“From Nihilus to Subra?” said Dario, incredulously. “That's...”

“Clear across the continent, I know,” said Emylas, clearly getting more and more excited by the moment. “There have been many sightings all over the world. Some in the West, some in Shadia, some in Sabura, Subra, Nihilus...everywhere except Arx, for some mysterious reason. Every time the descriptions are the same. Small people with gray skin, no eyes, no hair, and big ears. And nearly every sighting of one of these creatures also includes a description of one of their cone-shaped monuments nearby, and the strange writing on the walls.”

“Well, couldn't it be possible that this is all a big hoax?” asked Dario, sitting back and placing both of his hands behind his head. “I mean, that could be another reason all of the stories are the same, people heard what others said and then just claimed to see the same thing.” Dario watched Emylas' eyes for any sign of deception. Based on everything Emylas had just described Dario now knew what it was that he'd seen in his vision. He just wanted to determine if Emylas would cave and admit that he'd been there already.

Emylas shrugged. “Well, I suppose it's possible that none of it is true. Really, it's entirely possible that all of these 'Legendary Lands and Peoples' are just that; legendary.” Emylas grabbed a nearby candle and held it just in under and in front of his face. “Scary stories to tell around the campfire, or fairy tales to tell to children so they won't lose that precious sense of wonder about the world.” Emylas replaced the candle on the windowsill. “Sailors have ventured out into the Western Sea attempting to find the immortals, but they've been unsuccessful so far. Some explorers have ventured north of Shadia to find the wooly folk, but most have never returned. Maybe they're all made up, or maybe they're real. In any event, they're fun to read about.”

The corner of Emylas' lip gave him away. Curled up in a smirk that he was trying to hide. He knew something, and he wasn't telling. Few things were as infuriating as the man who had a secret and was so proud of that simple fact. Dario would have liked to punch him square in the nose to see if that would wipe the stupid expression off his face.

“Would you mind me asking what your red robes are all about?” asked Dario.

“Oh, not at all,” said Emylas. “See, this temple is also a school, of sorts. Emissaries, messengers, ambassadors, and nobles all come here to study the various religions, cultures, and legends of Erets. I'm a professor of religious studies, and I pass on my knowledge to my students so that they may better interact with foreign cultures.”

“A professor of all faiths?” asked Dario. “Interesting...do you follow any of them?”

Emylas chuckled and cracked his knuckles. “Now, that's a bit personal, don't you think? I don't typically tell my students my religious beliefs because I don't want my beliefs to taint theirs. If I went around telling near perfect strangers my beliefs my students would inevitably hear about it, and then I may as well not teach the class anymore.”

“You never teach anyone your religious beliefs? You don't feel the slightest need to proselytize?” Dario asked.

“Well...not in my regular classes. I have a special class, one after hours, that worthy people may attend for a fee.”

“I see...how much would it cost to enroll in your class?” Dario asked.

Emylas laughed out loud at this. “Are you thinking of enrolling, then?”

“Yes, I'd love to hear what a professor of many faiths really thinks, how he really feels about all these religions he's studied.” Dario tried to seem sincerely interested in Emylas' beliefs from an academic standpoint, but he was almost certain that Emylas had picked up on the fact that he was investigating him.

“I see,” said Emylas, tapping his fingertips together. “Normally it would cost 10 denarius. But...you know, I'll let you enroll for free.”

“What? Why?”

Emylas shrugged. “I have a good feeling about you. Speaking to you just now...there's some great quality about you that makes me think you'd be a great student and put what you learn in my class to good use. And that's the real reason I became a professor. To do some good in the world.” Emylas offered his hand for Dario to shake it.

Dario took Emylas' hand firmly. “Then I'll see you in class, professor.”