"Servant of Empire" - Ch 17

When I regained consciousness, I suppose it must have been afternoon. I could not be sure how many hours passed since our capture. The sun was getting a little low, maybe a hand or two above the horizon, but it's so hard to tell in the lands of the Sidhe - days don't have a very consistent time-frame, they seem to change in length at whim from day to day.

The two cloaked figures were gone, and although I initially thought I might have been hallucinating, Sered – who had been chained beside me – revealed that he'd seen the pair of them too. If that's so, then some remnant of the Voruscan Empire must still be around - either in person or in legend. I glanced at my hands again, and was perversely relieved to see my gloves were still on.

The strange woman-figure – I couldn’t pretend she was a woman any longer – stood facing us in the center of this “room.” We were chained to walls of stone, but there was no roof and the stone was ancient. I assumed this meant we were inside the remnants of the castle where we’d encountered her before. Now that I could see a little more clearly, I observed she had a most unpleasant form...she had no eyes, and in fact on close inspection (a lot closer than I wanted, but hell, I was chained to the walls) what passed at a distance for an attractive woman was actually a closely-knit collection of insects. Beetles, mostly, and it's uncanny how they held themselves together, the appearance of skin almost perfect. In a way this made it even more revolting, constantly shifting over each other with a muffled scuttling sound. I sensed a bit of the arcane about her, so I suspect she used some form of fey glamour to brush over the cracks in her disguise. Her eyes were probably the most disturbing part of her - dark sockets with masses of tiny black creatures, ticks perhaps, her disguise forming and melting constantly as she moved about. Each time the backs of the many creatures grouped together, the "iris" of her false eyes had a different color, the carapaces and wing casings of different bugs entering into formation.

"You are awake, that is good," blue, they were deep blue like a shallow sea. As she noticed me looking at her she brought a cup to her mouth - a cup made from a skull. A rather fresh one, as it was still somewhat tacky, leaving thick smudges on what passed for her fingertips and her lips. The bloodstains on her mouth quickly vanished, absorbed into the mass of moving creatures, or consumed directly by them.

At first I didn't say anything. I did notice Rendo's absence, and hoped he'd been able to get away. Didn't really expect it, but I was hoping.

All this acedemic discussion belies the horror she instilled in me, probably in all of us.

The undead thing that had been masked as a man, stood at the other end of the room, at the head of a stair. It (he?) wore a close-fitting black leather jerkin and a mask with goggles over its eyes. The wall behind it had crumbled away, revealing the forest and a view of the road, tantalizingly close.

“Silence? This is all you have for me?” The woman-thing managed to actually sound like real speech, though I don’t imagine she had vocal cords in what passed for her neck. “And yet we will share such times together, Azrael.”

Black, gaping sockets. She had her head tilted to one side, swirling the contents of her ‘mug’ with gentle motions. She produced a wire whisk and stirred it a bit, looking down into the cavity. I must have already been in shock, all I could think of was how cognitively jarring it was to see this creature in possession of expensive culinary equipment. As she looked down, an insect – I think a dark roly-poly – fell from her left eye and down into her cleavage.

“How do you know me?” I finally asked as she strolled closer. She, or perhaps the skull, stank like a battlefield. I don’t have any objection to the smell of blood, I have seen enough of it in my time, but I certainly can’t say I have ever liked it.

Her voice was low, almost man-like, but it scraped like rough wood on stone. My guess is that the creature formed its words by buzzing wings in its ‘throat’ to create noises that we’d understand as language. Where it kept its mind I haven’t the foggiest clue, though it wouldn’t surprise me if this collection was powered by some weird Fey spirit, similarly to how some undead are puppeted by spirits outside of the body they animate.

All of us with the exception of Rendo were chained up here, and Nix was blindfolded. I’m not sure why that was the case. Cannon was almost lifted off the floor, and stood with his arms level with his head. I couldn’t see Derrek anywhere. Earl, I remembered, had been chewed in half by the surviving cyclops. We had all been stripped of our gear, and we’d been searched, our clothes hanging open in a careless fashion.

“Oh, I know many secrets about you, little Shadrim. Before we’re done I’ll learn all of yours, just as I learned Derrek’s here as I stripped the flesh from him.”

Guess that answered where Derrek was. Brown eyes, almost perfectly mimicking real ones. She passed the mug slowly under my face. I could see his skull had been emptied and its interior waxed. I supposed that was his blood and brains in there, in which she was keeping a little froth with the whisk as she drank it.

“You know, he’s a bit gamey, like bear meat!” Her mouth smiled wide, and she giggled in a rude parody of a small girl. A film bubble of blood formed in her open mouth for just a moment. It popped, leaving a single tiny drop upon her chin. Before long, this faded and was gone. I kept wondering why it took this womanly form.

I think if I’d eaten something more recently I might have vomited there and then. I probably should have tried just for spite, but a plot was hatching in my head and I didn’t want mine to end up like Derrek’s quite so soon.

“Don’t speak to her,” Sered mumbled beside me.

Glancing at that wall, I realized it was sandstone, and it occurred to me that the method in which our chains were anchored might not be the strongest stuff. In fact, I was willing to bet that either Cannon or Sered could probably rip theirs free if they really got some wind in them.

And many of the enchantments of a Caern Jale officer were designed specifically for the enhancement of our soldiers’ strength.

All around us on the floor were cleaned bones and many more skulls, each intricately carved with some kind of language. I didn’t recognize it, but it was very detailed, reminiscent of scrimshaw. Even the walls had carvings like that in them, to a lesser degree.

"Yes, you see now, don't you? Each creature has its secrets, and I keep them all. I carve them into the bones and stones to pass the time. What secrets you must have, for the armies of Ihnbharan to be interested in you? I wonder what the Shal Rava has in store for you?" Her right eye was gold, and her left was red. She motioned towards Nix and Sered and Cannon. "The rest of you...well, we'll have so much to talk about."

She had turned away and walked towards the stairs, the undead just looking on impassively through its goggles, like a smelter staring at hot ore. He had his sword on his back, in a leather loop-sheath. The thing's blade gleamed with a strange kind of radiance, almost like an absence of light - the glassy weapon seemed to actually leech light and color out of the air around it. Very strange...and I certainly would not want to find out what effect that aura would have passing through my flesh.

The others were coming to wakefulness now, in various states of repair, all of us bloody and bruised from the battle. Cannon had a bloody scab on his skull where he'd been whalloped by one of the cyclops.

It was time to put my little plan in gear. "Madam, if we are to spend so much time talking, what shall I call you?"

"So you are interested? You wish to share with me? You may call me Liss, little Azrael. Liss." She looked back at me over her shoulder. The eye I could see was a mass of churning grey maggots.

"Given what I can tell of the conversations to come, a little courage might be in the offing. I don't suppose you have enough there to share, as it will be hard to keep speaking with a parched throat?" I could hardly believe I was doing this, I really understood then what the Necromancers of House Goradrim meant when they described their work as 'contemplative dissociation.' I actually felt as if my mind, my thoughts, were happening a few feet above me, almost as though I were watching myself through a tiny window over a great distance.

"So, you want some? Courageous indeed. I have never found one of you willing to partake of others." She was walking back to me now. The eyes were a color I can't really remember - just that they were almost hypnotic, and there was no trace that she was anything other than a fair Eladrin woman. With thick red smears on her fingers and thumb.

I bared my canines, which I'm proud to say I keep very clean, the better for their intimidation value. "I am Shadrim. I have an appreciation of the light and dark together. Perhaps at this moment, dark seems a little more appropriate." Yellow with flecks of black in her eyes, I realized the flecks were legs of an insect imperfectly disguised.

I was a little surprised that the others weren't crying out, but I heard Cannon drawing breath in shallow gasps. I risked a glance over at him, and shook my head minutely at him. His head was trembling and he recoiled away - which I think means I probably was putting on too much of a show, since he was probably thinking I meant "I'll have some of you, too." No matter, that all worked as part of the plan.

As she drew closer, I muttered loudly enough to be heard by the others. "Courage and strength are something all of my companions could use."

She held the skull to my mouth, and I came near enough to gagging that I almost spoiled the whole effect. Still, I managed to get a couple of sips down before she spilled over my lips and down my chin.

She took back the cup, cradling it and frowning a little, watching me through eyes slitted. “Oh, little Azrael, it is a shame to waste so.”

I could see movement under the lids, the way you can see someone moving their eyes in a dream, but I knew this was not a dream, and that wasn't an eye moving under there.

I summoned up the tiniest bit of power and channeled it into my words. My own voice came out thick with the taste of Derrek's blood on my tongue. "All in need of courage and strength can find it, like the stone in these very walls." I felt the little surge pass through my throat and into the air of my words, amplifying as it passed, trying my hardest to make the effort as subtle as possible.

Not subtle enough. My throat caught a little on something...probably a gobbet of Derrek. She felt the wisp of power slip by, and let out a hissing shriek: "What is this!?!"

The undead thing immediately drew its blade and took a step forward, confused at what had happened, and I did a fast check to either side of me - as I'd hoped, Cannon and Sered were both looking at me with revulsion, squirming in their chains...they had felt the charm settle on their wrists as I spoke, adding just a little touch of extra flexibility to them. When I looked left, I saw that Nix had vomited a little, but was struggling madly with the chains.

I lost sight of them all for a moment, my gaze captured by the face of Liss as her features twisted in an agonized approximation of fury. Those perfect eyes - violet, I remember now - flew apart into a thousand tiny stinging things, which began to orbit her with an unnatural velocity. Many of them hit me in their path, and it felt like the time I had been caught in a sandstorm - they hit me so hard they embedded painfully in my skin. Not being one to disappoint, I let out a shriek of my own - I am not ashamed to admit it, I felt pain - and put as much volume and residual emotion into it as possible. I was hoping this would add to the power of the charm I was using to give everyone a fighting chance at breaking our bonds.

Quickly stealing a glance at Sered, I saw him strain futilely against the manacles on his wrists, to fall defeated by them against the wall. Cannon, on the other hand, did exactly as I expected - the revulsion and disgust had given him a powerful core to build effort on. The sudden realization that the anchor for his chains was weaker than he expected fueled his fury, and in a rage he pulled the stone clear out of the wall!

The next few minutes are a bit of a blur to me - the undead smacking Nix for some reason, which dislodged her blindfold. Suddenly able to see, she quick-stepped – a spell I’m sure was stolen from the faeries. Her form blurred and shifted, and before I knew it she was over to one side, having slipped entirely out of her bonds. She twirled over to the pile of gear to retrieve a weapon, but as she glanced up, she met the gaze of the dead thing.

He had whipped off his goggles as he had turned to see where she'd reappeared.

She dropped like a sack of potatoes. She didn't seem to be breathing, but I was a good distance away and still chained, so I could not really tell.

I really lost the rhythm at that point - I know Liss hit me probably several times and hard, as I did my best to ensorcel the undead and confuse him. I have a vague recollection of using a healing chant on Cannon as he made a mad dash for the pile, only to see him come up waving what looked like a woman's silk scarf before looking at it with frustration and returning to the pile for his poleaxe. Nix recovered, shooting some sort of spell at Sered's chains. Sered eventually getting free and distracting Liss from me at last, while I spent all my effort to dodge the swarming-thing’s blows and withstand the cloud of vermin that orbited her in a fervently-buzzing frenzy. At some point, Rendo appeared - apparently he'd tracked us all the way back to this tower, and had scaled the ruined side of it after he'd heard either Derrek's screaming earlier, or my own more recent outburst.

Towards the end, Cannon stormed back to the wall and with enormous, punishing swings of the back-side of a hand-axe crushed the remainder of our chains. Came close to crushing my hands, as well, but fortunately only close. As Sered was keeping Liss occupied, Nix at some point knocked the undead - who himself had begun to bleed a dark ichor from his nose and right ear - from his feet, sword skittering across the stones, leaving a faint black wake behind it. Almost immediately, the undead thing seemed to evaporate into a thin mist, ghost-like, and faded from sight. Try as I might I could not get a glimpse of where it went. I recall expending the last of my reparative charms on Cannon to keep him on his feet, and seeing him shaking his head and standing unassisted was gratifying.

Liss, realizing she was on the losing end of this fight, dissolved into a stream of stinking coleopterids, which skittered and buzzed themselves away through cracks on the floor. Sered, ever eager to get himself singled out and killed, gave chase while the rest of us caught our breath. I don't know if he even heard me shouting after him to come back, it probably wouldn't have mattered if he had. Nix set herself on the pile of belongings and began digging out her own gear, while Rendo and Cannon ran down the stairs after Sered.

Before the undead could return and reclaim it and use it on us, I ran forward, stripping my shirt to wrap around the blade it had dropped. I returned to the pile, where Nix was teetering on unsteady feet.

I was halted by a blow to my chest, looking down to find the tip of Cannon’s heavy-ended falchion holding me in place. A drop of blood welled up where the tip met my flesh.

“That was awful,” he said. “Was that really you?”

I shook my head. “Only thing I could think of right then to get you guys moving, hating.”

“Why?”

“Would you have been able to summon up the strength if she’d taken us away one by one?”

He lowered his gaze. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.”

“I’m moments from puking here, Cannon. Let’s just get our gear and move. And I won’t, no.”

He thought it over a moment, then the sword dropped. “Let’s go,” he said.

I stood guard over Nix while she sorted her gear out, watching for the return of the dead thing or of Liss herself. A short while later Sered and the others returned, having been eluded by her. The undead was not to be seen.

“Any sign of that cyclops?” Althea asked quietly.

“None,” Sered said. “Just the dead one.”

We debated for a moment what we should do, and eventually Rendo volunteered that he'd seen a glade about a half-hour's fast walk would take us to where we would be at least relatively safe. Looking at the big pile of broken rock and all of our gear, we took turns shoveling the majority of it into a eulithid pocket that Nix conjured up – but he called it a “Heward pocket.” Apparently in this day and age a wizard named Heward took credit for eulithid extra-dimensional containers. Silly humans.

Regardless, we piled everything in it except for our armor, boots and weapons, and set out to the glade and the safety it offered.

As promised, we arrived exactly as Rendo told us, and settled in with a glamoured campfire that covered our presence, to sort out our respective gear. I haven't felt so relieved to set hands on my bow in a very long time. I guess given my relative timeline, that would be a very long time indeed.

As I was strapping on my quiver belt, Cannon grabbed both of my arms from behind and pulled me to the ground. I landed roughly on my ass, unable to break his hold. I struggled with him, my tail lashing in the dirt.

“What in the nine wor…” I managed to get out before Sered’s blade came to rest against my neck. I held very still, slowly bringing my eyes up to his face.

“What did you do back there?” Sered asked simply.

“What?”

“Answer him, Shadrim,” Cannon said. The sudden use of my race instead of my name set my nerves on edge. He sat his weight on my tail as he held my arms.

“What are you guys doing?!?” Rendo said from across the camp, alarmed. At least this wasn’t a completely unanimous effort, then. Nix just stood, glancing between Sered and me.

“Hold there, Rendo. We are having a discussion.” Sered said. His tone left no room for joking.

“I’ll ask again. What did you do back there?” His eyes settled back on me.

“I got us out of a fatal situation, that’s what.”

“You were turning on us.”

“No. I freed us.”

Nix was watching impassively, slowly rotating her hands in a gesture I could see was preparing a spell.

“You were going to join that…whatever she was. That thing.” Sered said again, somewhat more forcefully.

“You are mistaken. I distracted it by pretending to be interested. While I did, I got off an enchantment that gave you all additional strength, and I did it in a way that got you fired up enough to put your back into it.”

“That’s a lie, Shadrim. I never broke free.”

“My magics are limited by the working material. I can’t help it if you failed. Cannon broke free, and that tipped the balance for us.” I shrugged ever-so-slightly.

“Don’t be too clever. Your life depends on this.”

“Then perhaps clever is exactly what I should be, isn’t it? Think about it, Sered. She was going to drag us all, one by one, away for slaughter or sale. The only hope we had was to break loose together, and to do that I needed you all awake and wanting to fight. So I feigned interest, which she bought into for a moment.”

I could see him pondering it for a moment, but then his features hardened. “You’re lying again. I will pronounce judgment.”

He froze. I saw a glint beneath his left ear. “No, I don’t think so,” Nix said.

Sered’s eyebrows rose and he turned slowly towards her. She had a needle-like dagger pressed against the hollow of his jaw. “What?”

“He’s right. He cast an enhancer spell, I felt it when he did. She attacked him when he did.”

“I joined you all in good faith,” I said. “I’ve saved your life a couple of times now, just as you all have saved mine. I’ve not turned on you, and I won’t turn on you – though you’re giving me plenty of reason here.”

“He’s been good to us, he’s fought beside us,” Rendo said. He hadn’t drawn down on anyone, but he had his bow in his hand.

“I made it look like it did so you’d get angry, I needed your rage,” I said. “We had to break free.”

“Let him go,” Nix said quietly.

Sered lowered his weapon, and nodded to Cannon behind me.

“Sorry mate, I like you, but he pays the bills,” the dwarf mumbled behind me. He let go and stood off my tail.

I yanked my hands back from him, angry. “His name might have been first on the contract, but we all pay your wage, don’t forget it.”

He just shrugged.

I looked over at Sered. “Next time you try to ambush me, you’d better kill me, you self-righteous asshole. I saved your life up there, and you draw a weapon on me? You dare to pass judgment on me? Tell me, just how much incentive do I have to see you survive our next battle?”

He was silent. Nix had lowered her own small blade, and was looking between the two of us appraisingly, as though wondering which one would win if it came to blows.

“None, that’s how much.” I finished for him. “Think that over next time you’re bleeding out because you tripped over your own feet, fool. Stick your judgment up your puckered ass.”

Rendo put his hand on my arm, concern on his face. I almost pulled away in anger, but thought better of it. If we were going to make it here, we all needed each other. Even if I personally felt that we didn’t need Sered.

We also discovered we'd found quite a bit of simple jewelry, mostly of Elvish make, and a small amount of coinage which hadn't belonged to anyone. As well, a suit of surprisingly fine scale mail, and a few other items - Nix readily identified a single arrow among the lot made of bone, carved with several tiny runes that we both agreed had some rather powerful flame enchantment on it. The various new gear found its way to people - the scarf actually landed with Nix, and Sered surprised us all by saying "It looks quite fetching on you."

From what we could see, it was enchanted in some way as well. No one could use the armor effectively, so it was rolled up and put away.

While we were going through the pile and retrieving our goods, Nix saw the weapon I'd recovered from the floor before we left among the pile. She raised an eyebrow as she stood with her pack in her hands, and asked "What are you going to do with your new toy?" It took me a moment to realize what she was on about, until I realized then I was the only one in the group who used a longsword. Come to think of it, my own was a little long in the tooth - ironic that I should think that, given my elapsed span.

Rendo was sliding the engraved arrow into his quiver, and looked over at me too. He nodded at the sword. “Looked neat, I’m curious to see what it can do.”

I picked up the sword from the ground where we'd laid down all the additional equipment we had recovered, partially unwrapped it from the shirt, and looked at the blade again. The blade was made from a clear, dark material, like smoky volcanic glass. Smooth as fine steel, it glinted in the late-afternoon light. The hilt appeared to be some kind of darkened carbon steel, the grip blood-red leather with silver wire pulling it tight. I held out my hand and rested the weapon on it lengthwise, trying to ascertain its point of balance. This might have been a mistake. As soon as my flesh contacted it, I felt a chill as though ice water ran into my veins from that touch. A whisper in my mind, like the rush of water over distant falls, grew and formed into words.

I am Sybarron. Are you alive?

I recoiled for a second, pulling the blade away from my skin. Careful to keep the cloth between us, I looked more closely. I could discern no runes or script of any kind, and no specific gems that might house a sentience.

Are you alive?

The question echoed again. Was I remembering it?

You don’t have to speak to answer me. Are you alive?

I nodded silently. ‘I am,’ I thought.

Thank you. The thing that previously held me was not. I cannot speak with the dead. You have claimed me?

“You okay, Az?” Rendo looked concerned. I guess I’d been silent for a little while.

“Yes, yes.” I looked at him and nodded briefly.

Good. Then we can work together.

“I’m fine, yes. Just getting a feel for the balance.” I considered a moment. “It’s cold.”

“Well, it is glass,” he shrugged.

Are you considering whether to speak of me?

“Yes,” I said.

Now might not be the time, given your recent confrontation. Would you not rather wait?

“Or do you mean cold, like magic cold?” Rendo was eyeing the blade cautiously.

“That’s the thing, I think so.”

“That’s interesting,” Nix said. “Could be useful.”

Sered glowered at us. “Police up your things, I want to put some distance between this place and us. There’s still a cyclops around, and we never killed Liss. We have no horses, and they might be out for us.”

(All content here, outside of those elements attributed otherwise, is copyright (2025-) Thomas Theobald. With the exception of AI training, personal use with attribution is granted.)