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Story Codes: Fantasy, Magic

For a list of all The Rogue’s Harem, other World of Erasthay stories, maps, and glossaryclick here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as it’s
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.

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Click here for Chapter 35.

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Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Ealaín

“Followed?” my charge gasped.

“What’s going on, Master?” Nathalie asked. Her voice lacked the normal fear. Since the fight, she had shed a degree of her timidity. She had discovered her strength thanks to Rubyforged, her armor.

“One of the Biomancer’s things has been following us,” Sven said. He knelt and nudged the dead creature with his knife. “For days. Since Az.”

“Longer,” I said, shaking my head. “I remember hearing owls after we exited from Faerie and while traveling through the woods. I didn’t think anything of hearing those hoots.”

“Carsina says it hooted the same way every time, no variation,” Sven said. He straightened, staring out at the woods, arms folded across his bare chest.

“It was,” Kora gasped. “I just thought owls hooted the same. I didn’t even think it was the same one, just… It was waiting for us when we emerged from the ring?”

“It tracked us there, probably with Keythivak,” said Zanyia.

“If the Paragon was tracking us that long, why did the Biomancer’s vermin waited so long to attack us?” Sven asked. “You saw what they did at Az. If it wasn’t for the armor we found there, they would have killed us.”

“Most likely,” I agreed. “Perhaps it took time for the Paragon to gather those monsters.”

“Why would the Paragon use Zizthithana at all?” asked Ava.

“Zizthithana figured out how to find the amulet,” said Zanyia. “I bet she held back where she found it. Used it to negotiate. Then, when Master interfered, the Paragon took time to gather her foul compatriots. I bet they were scattered across the world. If they were all in one place…”

“Yes, they’d be hunted down by those new knightly orders cropping up,” said Kora, her hand grasping the amulet. “I can’t wait until we destroy this.”

I swallowed, glancing at Sven. His jaw tightened.

I glanced back at my charge, at the amulet. The ruby seemed so dark now, an empty void gripped by her pale fingers. I shifted and said, “I feel like we’re missing something important. There is something about this that makes little sense.

“Doesn’t matter,” Zanyia said. “We’ll reach the Altar of Souls soon. We killed the spy. They can’t track us, and it’s not like they know exactly where we’re going. We don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Just east,” Sven said. His head glanced to the south. Towards Echur and Prince Meinard? “Let’s eat supper and get to sleep. I want us up early. We need to cover more ground. I don’t want to find an ambush set up by Prince Meinard’s soldiers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Princess Ava

The next week passed in a blur of hard traveling. Sven’s concern over my father’s activities set unease in me. I kept checking his study, sinking into my jade beetle proxy I left in the crack in his wall., but he was never there. I’d tried different times of day: early in the morning when I first rose, late in the afternoon, midday, late morning, sunset. I even woke up in the middle of the night to check.

It was empty.

My father wasn’t at Echur. He was out… somewhere. He had to be hunting us. It made me worried as we left behind the Forest of Lhes and rode through the farmland of Eastern Kivoneth. The Despeir Mountains reared up on the horizon, daggers thrusting in the sky.

The fence separating our civilized lands from the cruel domain of the nagas.

My stomach grew tighter as the stress mounted. Where was my father? At every crossroad I expected ambush. I kept turning around to look behind us to see if any great clouds of dust hazed the horizon, announcing a large column of soldiers in pursuit. He had the troops, soldiers manpower so long as he ignored the western front where his armies were in rout.

The hammer kept leading us east. I had claimed possession of it from Carsina as we entered the easternmost lands. The hammer pulsed more and more. It trembled, growing closer and closer to where it yearned to be. It was created to work the Altar of Souls, to forge powerful artifacts at the hands of the God of Crafts.

And now it was in my hands.

At night, I slept with it cradled to my breasts. It filled my dreams with strange images of the muscular god working, crafting all the artifacts of the gods: Grimsilence, the Tourmaline Mask, Heart’s Key, Balance, and even High King Peter’s famed sword with which he conquered everything west of the Despeir Mountains, uniting them beneath his High Kingdom.

A mad feat my father ached to repeat.

The hammer sang to me. It longed to be home. I made me push Sven to keep us riding hard and long. To take as little breaks as possible. We were all tired, but we were coming closer and closer to ending this. To destroying the Biomancer Vebrin’s soul.

What a wonderful treat that would be. To end his villainy once and for all. He would not get a second chance to populate the world with those abominations like the ones who attacked us. Or the thing that followed us pretending to be an owl.

So far, we’d found no new creatures tailing us.

I wasn’t the only one who often rode in silence. Ealaín didn’t speak much, her eyes distant, her mind working on her theory that we were missing something important. The Paragon’s behavior made little sense. If she had access to forces more powerful than Zizthithana, why didn’t she dispatch them after us right away.

It was only when we went to the Temple of Krab that the Paragon approached my father. And in a day, her monsters had traveled a distance that would have take a human four or more to cross. They were scared by us entering the temple that they acted precipitously.

But why not just do that from beginning? What held them back before we went to the Temple?

I couldn’t think of it. Not with the hammer’s song pulsing through my thoughts. We were coming closer and closer. I could feel it. When we woke up on the tenth day since leaving Az, I could feel we were close.

We would reach it today.

The Despeir Mountains swallowed the horizon as we set out passing the orderly farms. We were a days ride from them. I could even see the pass, the gap between the mountains. Zizthithana’s foul slavers rode through the gap to take prisoners for my father to use to spread his power. The Zeutchians who lived here kept weapons in plane sight, polearms leaning against fences while the men worked the fields, youths perched in makeshift towers looking east.

They feared the slavers. That would end once I ruled Kivoneth. I wouldn’t let the nagas raid my people.

As the day wore on, a hill grew on the horizon. It thrust up from a large plain devoid of any farms. The road ended before we got within miles of it. The hammer drew me towards it. I shuddered. I could feel it. This was it. This was where the Altar of Souls lay. A nervous tremble ran through me as we came closer and closer.

The hammer twitched as the hill grew to swallow the horizon, only the tallest peaks of the Despeir Mountains rearing above it. I felt such majesty pouring off the hill. It concealed something important, something of such power that not even the powerful illusion cloaking it could fully hide.

“Gods damn, but you can feel it,” Sven muttered.

“No wonder there are no farms around here,” Kora said. “My teeth are almost rattling.”

“The Altar of Souls,” I said in breathy excitement. The hammer twitched in my hand.

“You have the key, Princess-Mistress,” Carsina said. “Once you unlock it, the Altar will be exposed. Anyone can use it after this.”

“Better than the Biomancer living,” muttered Sven.

I nodded my head in agreement.

I swallowed when we reached the base of the hill. It wasn’t a gradual transition to the great grass covered mound. It was artificial, a shell built over something. I slipped off my saddle with grace, clutching the diamond hammer. The afternoon sun shone on my back. Its rays reflected in the heart of the diamond as a fiery brilliance that shifted as I moved it.

Sven moved forward. He reached the hill and pressed his hand against the slope, pushing the grass out of the way. “Krab built this over the Altar of Souls.”

“To hide it from being abused,” Carsina said. “It’s so impressive.”

“There’s a tree growing on the side,” Zanyia said. “Don’t trees have deep roots? How thick is this hill?”

“Thick enough,” Carsina answered. “It is said to have a core of adamant. Nothing normal can dig through it. You have to use the hammer. It will power the device he built around it. Cause it to… to open. Somehow.”

“I don’t see a keyhole,” Sven said, looking around. “Do we need to move to a different spot, Carsina?”

“No,” I said, reaching the base of the hill. I stared up the slope reaching up to the blue sky. I could feel the mechanism in there, like I could with the lock of the vault back at the temple. It was built for an imbuer to use. But it was so massive, no imbuer’s soul was strong enough to work.

Not without the hammer.

“It’s not a lock in that way. It’s like… Greta’s armor,” I continued, squeezing the diamond haft. “The same way Carsina supercharged it, I can do that to the hill. I can puppeteer it and open it.”

“Do it,” Ealaín said. “Let us end this. Let us destroy Vebrin’s phylactery and condemn his soul to his punishment in the Astral Realm.”

“Yes!” Sven growled, his voice thick, almost like he was… in pain. “Do it! Let’s get his over with.”

I drew in a deep breath and raised the hammer over my head. It flared with pure radiance. The light spilled over the hill. The machinery inside quivered as my soul surged into the hammer. I swung it down, bringing my will in contact with the hill.

Light exploded around me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prince Meinard

I didn’t need a horse. Not with the changes to my body. I had stamina, endurance. I could cross my country as fast as the squadron of twenty soldiers riding on their steeds. Gunther, my most trusted general, led them. Shevoin also rode with them, the master mage sitting his horse stiffly, weariness straining his aged features.

The men all smelled delicious. Not as sweet as a farm girl—the one I ate last night was so soft and succulent—but my soldiers could give me such strength. I had to remind myself that I needed them. They were useful.

Not like a farm girl.

The Paragon marched at the lead. I don’t know how I ever considered her ugly. She was every race and species of sentient life brought together in one being. She had the nimble grace of a halfling, the strength of an ogre, the drive and determination of a human, the grit of an orc, the keen hearing of an elf, the endurance of a dwarf, the tenacity of a goblin. All of it distilled into her.

Father’s greatest creation.

I quaked to see Father’s rebirth. He would be so happy with me. He would make me King of the World. I would provide him the largest laboratory to make more creations. He could enhance entire villages, towns, even cities. Whole races would be improved by him. No more making solitary creations in the dark corners of the world, hunted by lesser men who didn’t have the ambition to change things.

He would end death and suffering. He would end all those petty differences between humans and dwarves, elves and orcs. What did any of that matter when all were like the Paragon? When all were improved? He would make a paradise of the world.

No matter how many centuries of experimentation it would take.

On the horizon, a hill loomed. It thrust out of the eastern farmlands, the Despeir Mountains behind it. The trail led towards it. Finally, we had located that bastard Sven. He had my daughter. She would be a succulent treat to enjoy. I licked my lips in eager anticipation the delight of my sweetling’s flesh.

With the death of the Watcher, we were blind. We only knew Sven and his whores traveled East. Yesterday, we caught his trail. The stink of him filled my nose even now, growing stronger and stronger as we neared the hill.

My daughter’s scent mixed in. I could smell her pregnancy, that bit of Sven in her. That would only make her taste—

White light exploded from the hill and flashed across the entire horizon.

“They found the Altar!” the Paragon hissed. “Father!”

Fear lanced through me. As I charged forward at a full run, I snarled, “Gallop!”

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 37.

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