Chapter 3: Imbuing the Bandages

It almost felt real. Sehn lay on his back in a luxurious room on the highest floor of the mightiest oak, servants of every kind surrounding him: back scratching servants, grape-feeding servants, even a servant whose only purpose it was to blow on his tea when it was too hot.

The grape-feeder, a smooth-faced daughter of the Naris clan, smiled exotically at him. Her lips were moist. She seductively planted another grape under his tongue.

It tasted...it tasted…

Disgusting! What the hell is this?

Sehn darted up, knocking the white-leaf blanket off his muscular body. He ran his hand over his ears and they felt withered, a telling sign of exhaustion. He was bandaged from chest to waist, with smaller bandages applied to the corners of his cheeks. He spat out the disgusting black liquid.

Sehn immediately noticed two things: the first was that he was in the fourth floor room of the Elven infirmary. The second was that a myriad of people surrounded him, all with concern on their faces. Concern! Sehn felt an anger more terrible than any he had felt before.

“Answers, now! This very moment, or I shall fireball all of you into oblivion.”

A burly Human with scars leading up to the brown curly hair on his face pressed Sehn back into a lying position.

So, Rillith wishes to be executed later? That’s fine, although all he had to do was ask.

“Easy now, Sehn. You’re pretty banged up. We’re all here to make sure you don’t do something stupid. Actually, we’ve been standing watch for over ten hours—a few wrong moves and you’re dead.”

Sehn grunted. His scanned the room, noting every face. Some, he was surprised to see; others terrified him. How much do they know?

He made a mental list of every person in the room so he could dish out rightful justice in the future. For the time being, all he wanted was information, the very thought filling him with burning hate.

How dare the Great Sehn be required to ask for information? Upon my awakening, scribes from every corner of the world should’ve already constructed a detailed account on a second-by-second basis of everything that has transpired since I killed that green thing.

“Don’t give me that look, Sehn,” Rillith said. “When you weren’t at home, we figured something must’ve been wrong. You’re not the type to miss free liquor and games of chance.”

The two Humans standing with him nodded: Patrick Something and Daniel Otherthing. Sehn didn’t bother to remember their surnames. In fact, that he remembered even their first names was an honor so great that even now they should’ve been chanting prayers and engaging in worship.

Calmly, so as not to bring notice to the animal rage building in his voice, Sehn whispered, “Do you mean to tell me that you three went into the perilous ‘Death Woods’, found me passed out on the ground somewhere, and then carried me to the infirmary? And that you’ve done all this with no thoughts of self-preservation or concern for your own safety?”

The three Humans nodded.

Sehn exhaled, followed by a nod—then he sprang up in his bed despite the crippling pain and grabbed Rillith’s shirt. “I’ll kill you, you sonnofabitch!”

Laughing, Rillith pushed him back down as Elven men and women all around the room looked on in wonder.

“Take it easy, Sehn, just consider it payback for when you pulled me out of that lava pit.”

“That was only because you had gold on you, fool! I wasn’t about to let the lava claim it. I should have pushed you back in.”

“Whatever you say,” he replied with a grin.

Patrick stepped forward. He was tall, muscular, and carried himself with a regal air. He had majestic blond hair, a clean-shaven face, and he was what the Humans considered to be among the most handsome of their race.

“Do you remember how we met, Sehn?”

Sehn nearly screeched. “Silence, you fool! Do not speak of such secrets in front of these peasants.”

Ignoring him, Patrick continued, “I was bitten by a Verol-Snake and poisoned with the deadliest toxin found in the Leera forests. You were hunting in that area and you found and injected me with the cure.”

Sehn thundered, “Well of course I did! Most people don’t survive. I just wanted to watch you wither in agony. When I showed up you were already so far gone that I had missed the show. Do not get me confused, Patrick. I would stand up and destroy you here and now, except you’re no challenge and I am comfortable lying down.”

Hearing the story of the rescue the dozen Elves in the room applauded.

“No! Cease this at once, damn you all, or I shall find a pack of roaming Cockaliths and unleash them in your very homes.”

This must be a nightmare. Perhaps the dream from earlier was reality? It must’ve been. I was lulled into a blissful sleep by the beautiful Grape-servants, and now I’m trapped in a terrifying nightmare. That must be the case. How dare the Gods give I, the great Sehn, a nightmare? As soon as I awaken I shall prepare an altar and curse their rotten names!

Despite his hopes, Sehn realized that his surroundings were in fact a reality. In every corner of the room, people smiled and projected a feeling of warmth on to him. It burned like the depths of a lava-pit.

“Sehn,” a young, beautiful Elf said. She spoke informally.

No, she can’t be here. She gave her word that she would never speak of our secrets!

“Though I did not appreciate the way you laughed at his suffering, I did appreciate you finding those Rezza-bees for my grandfather, Rebin. The ointment worked wonders. The bees attacked his wound, tearing away all infection. And you didn’t even accept your payment.”

Sehn looked around. Elves clapped with pleasure. He was going to lose it. He was getting close to the breaking point.

“No! That is not what happened at all! I confused the right bees with the wrong ones. I was going to poison him, and delight in his death throes, but I made an error.”

The young Elf patted him on the head and took a step back. Her death shall be agonizing and painful.

“Sehn,” another voice said. This time it was Calen.

“Ah, Calen, so you’ve come for revenge, have you? Do not be fooled by my appearance, for I have more than enough power to slay you. I will not return your Elven steel, not even from my dying fingers.”

The Elven swordsman approached with a content look on his face. Sehn tried to sit up, but Rillith and Patrick held him down. Sehn’s mind whirled in thought. Much like the ever-changing list of prices in the Elven bazaar, the list and order of who was to be executed first as well as the priority of torture they would receive, shuffled back and forth in his head like the swing of a pendulum.

“I never knew,” Calen began, a tear parting from his eye. He was still bruised from his miserable defeat to Sehn. “If a male exchanges love with a member of the Wood-tribe before the male has reached his twenty-first naming day, he then becomes a slave to her family. All his possessions are lost, and all his entitlements are forfeit. To think, I was mere moments from exchanging passions with the woman. Her brother would then become the heir to Sword-Dominion of Elvar!”

Formally, he said, “Sehn, son of Suhn, it is that with a fire brighter than the bounds of her Grace, have you restored mine honor. For whilst dawn sets on another day, thou heart shall forever be with mine own.”

In his mind, Sehn bumped up Calen’s death four places. The Elves continued to cheer and shout encouragements.

“We were wrong about you, Sehn,” one said.

“No one in Elvar ever saw the connections!” another shouted.

How was any of this possible? One by one, the people in the room approached him, telling stories of their own. Several even kissed him. Him, the Great Sehn, kissed by mere peasants! How dare they sully his God-face?

The confusion grew. How could this have happened? How could a catastrophe of such epic proportions have taken place? As if in response to the thought, the small wooden door to the already cramped infirmary opened and a small Elf stepped inside.

“Yo, Sehn!” Nero beamed, pushing past the gaggle of Elves.

I should have known.

“Nero! How could you? I demand you explain at once why you, my greatest disciple, have betrayed me.”

Nero scratched his head. “Well, when your Human friends brought you back here, a lot of people didn’t want to help you. In fact, they wanted to leave you to die. I never got why everyone hated you so much, so I told them your secrets—no big deal, right?”

“Nero,” Sehn said.

“Yeah?”

“Come closer. I have something I must tell to you, Nero, my greatest disciple.”

Nero cheerily stepped forward. “Okay!” He approached Sehn’s bed.

“Closer.”

Nero leaned in until he was hovering over Sehn’s face. Sehn grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “I’m gonna kill you, you little brat! First, you make me fight a green thing, and now you’re spreading lies about me.”

Nero laughed, unaffected by his grip. Sehn didn’t have the strength to make him groan, let alone wince.

“But they weren’t lies.” Suddenly, Nero’s eyes widened and appeared to glow with understanding, as if it was all dawning on him at once.

Yes, that’s it, Nero! I knew you were smart for being a mere seventh-seasoned Elf.

“Aha!” Nero exclaimed proudly, at a volume so loud that even patients in other rooms would likely hear it. “Ohh, I get it, Sehn. Ya see, I’m a smart Elf. We’re not gonna tell them anything ‘cause then they’ll think you’re not a mean person anymore. Okay.” He turned to face the other Elves. “Hey everyone, I was just kidding about all that stuff I said.”

For the first time in a twenty-seasoned existence, Sehn wanted to cry. The elves laughed and applauded. Sehn wondered how much humiliation and torture an Elf could withstand before his heart gave out.

“Never shall the dawn come to a new day, that I shall forget what thou hath done for mine sibling,” a formal voice spoke.

Sehn turned as the crowed made way to admit yet another person. Not Cah’lia!

“Sehn,” she began informally, “Nero told me how you said he’d be an idiot to go to that awful place. I’m sorry I blamed you.”

“Don’t be, because he lied to you. My exact words were, ‘Nero! Hey, buddy, there’s treasure in the Death Woods. Wanna go find some with me?’ Thank me not, Cah’lia. Now, be gone from my presence, or so help me Gods a fireball will be headed in your direction.”

Sehn had had enough. This had gone too far. Before anyone could react, he brushed away the hands holding him down and sat up. A sharp sensation ran through his body, one that almost seemed to register as extreme pain, but that was impossible. He pushed himself to his feet.

Hmm, it must just be a new form of pleasure. The Great Sehn feels no pain.

“Lie back down this instant, Sehn, or we’ll tie you there,” Cah’lia said.

“Why should I? Why would the Great Sehn need rest? Be gone, woman, for no female may dare order the Great Sehn to—”

Cah’lia gently poked Sehn in the center of the bandage wrapped around his stomach with the tip of her finger. An explosion of pai—no, pleasure, shot through Sehn.

It is pleasure! It is! OWWWWE. It’s unbearable.

“You dare raise a finger to the great Sehn! All of you shall die in my eternal fire! You shall all—” He coughed, unable to control his body, dropping to one knee.

“If you’re not injured then why are you wearing all those bandages?” Cah’lia asked.

Grunting from pain, (pleasure) Sehn looked at her.

“You fool! Do you know nothing of magic? The great and benevolent Sehn is merely imbuing these bandages with his healing magic, so that they may be used on other injured patients.”

Nero was so excited to hear this that he literally danced with delight, spinning in a way that made his small ears wobble around his puffy face. “See! Nothing hurts the Great Sehn, sister. Go ahead and show them, Sehn. Take off your bandages and then let’s go play.”

Sehn nodded. “You have the right of things, Nero.” He began undoing his bandages but was tackled by Cah’lia, along with the assistance of his three Human friends.

“Nero, Shh, silence yourself, brother. Maybe it’s best not to let you see him for a while. Calen, would you mind?”

Calen nodded and dragged Nero out of the room. The boy wailed and kicked, tears streaking down his face. When the crowd finally dispersed, a miserable Sehn was alone with just his friends—if you could really call them friends, as no living being—or even God for that matter—was worthy of his friendship.

After he’d rescued Patrick from the poisonous venom—by accident, he reminded himself—he and his two followers Rillith and Daniel had begun showing up at Sehn’s home on close to a daily basis. Never invited, of course, and Sehn had repeatedly thrown them out. After some time, however, they began bringing alcohol and games of chance. Sehn minded them less and less, provided, of course, they continued to make offerings to their God-king.

Eventually, Sehn allowed them to follow him on hunting trips. Not because Sehn needed their help or anything, but if they were going to hang around him anyway, then at the very least they could be useful. Well, at least when not falling like idiots into lava-pits.

Patrick grinned and whispered into Sehn’s ear, despite being alone in the room. “Sehn, we have word on a new treasure,” he began. “It’s worth enough to buy out all of Elvar. We think you might be interested.”

Sehn smiled. It was the first good thing he’d heard all day.

*****

As the village burned and the cries of death filled the air, even the animals wept. The acrid smell of smoke thickened on the wind, making breathing difficult for some miles. Where once stood a town of farmers, bakers, and crafters now stood an inferno of death and destruction. Not even the children were spared its fiery onslaught.

The few that survived crawled away on shaking knees, unable to even glance behind them at the loss of everything they’d lived for. But their pain was short-lived, as the soldiers clad in black ran them through from the backs of their warhorses.

A man with a hawk-mask and burning red eyes looked upon the destruction with indifference. Lives were meaningless, but goals were not. He raised an eyebrow as a row of horse mounted soldiers pulled up in front of him. The company’s leader, a sadistic little rat of a man, grinned with satisfaction.

“So, did you find it for me, Ghell?” asked the Man with the hawk mask.

“Yes, my lord. Here it is. The object of your desire.”

The Man with the hawk mask removed a glove, revealing a shriveled and disfigured hand. He felt the object buzz between his fingers while pleasure radiated through his mind at its empowering tingle.

“Good…Good. With this, we now have four.”

He kicked his horse, and the beast took off.

Two more. Just two more.