Chapter 18 (Patreon)

1

Trisha finished clearing the table with Ben before kissing him on the cheek. He took the children out to play a bit more – to really tire them out – so they could have some alone time that evening.

As she stood at the sink, finishing her chores, looking out the window at the rolling hills and setting sun, she couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. First was a thankfulness for the life she had. Back home, she would have been swamped with student debt and working for horrible hospital networks for years before having a solid career. Here, she was one of the best healers in the world and was both renowned and respected. She had a wonderful husband that she had wanted to be with before their summoning fifteen years ago. Three children and a fourth due any day.

But Thomas’ words lingered in her mind. If the Destroyer is back, she thought. Then we could be in serious shit. She wouldn’t be involved in any type of fighting – worst case scenario, they would travel off-continent to avoid the conflict. But if Thomas activated that statue and his plan didn’t work, they would all be hollow shells of themselves. Her happy life – dashed in an instant.

“When he comes back,” Ben had said after Thomas left a few nights prior. “If he does find evidence of the Demonic Dragon – Destroyer – whatever…we need to have a serious conversation of what we are going to do.” He had suggested something dark – something she never thought he was capable of…but he made a valid point. Their family was the most important thing to them. More important than a classmate-turned-friend who only visited twice a year.

Looking at Ben, laughing, rolling around, and play wrestling with Eli and Lyndra while Lawry watched, filled her with anxiety. She felt the baby kick, and stepped away from the sink, sitting down.  

She had plans in place. They had inscribed several complicated spells under their house with Misty’s help. For all manner of occurrences – war, famine, disease, assault. With her and Ben’s mana cores, they could survive for a long time. But, she also had inscribed another, secret circle with Thomas’ help. An inscription that would allow them to return to Earth.

She didn’t want that, because Ghomar had become her home. She loved her life, the prestige she had, the power of being a magnificent healer…and she didn’t have an idea what was waiting for them back on Earth. That would be a last resort.

“If we need to,” Ben had said. “We kill him. I’m not giving up my life with you and the kids. I hope to God it doesn’t come to that…but our family comes first.”

He was right, and even though it sickened Trisha to her core, she knew he was right. As she took a deep breath, she felt a trickling down her leg. Ah, shit. Tonight is going to suck. She stood up and staggered to the door, hollering for Ben, “Hon! It’s happening!”

2

Volio lay in bed and hummed a tune from his favorite musical. Everything was going perfectly for him. Lyn was alive – as he had thought. They had a connection, after all. She had accepted his apology and had even sent him new clothes. He pulled the garments to his face and draped them over himself. Her scent was different, but still, he found Lyn’s odor intoxicating.

The letter that came with had also come with instructions. Later that day, they would have a picnic outside of the dread fortress – Lynhold. I’ll have to talk to cartographers and get them to change the name. Volio chuckled as he tapped out the rhythm of a song. Just trust in your heart. Eventually, she’ll warm up to you. After all, they had a connection. He was hers wholly in heart, soul, and body. Eventually…if he served her well, she would be his.

That thought jolted him and he sat upright. Was he…really okay with serving her? Her every whim, need, desire? Of course I will. He shook his head. How could he not? Her being alive had kept him going these past ten years. He had been able to push aside all of the horrific memories of slaughter, pain, and dread thanks to his single-minded devotion and desire to see his lost love. And fate had brought them together, rewarded his faith. She was alive.

But he felt something else. A fear. Fear that Lyn would possibly reject him because he was Human and she was Duskari. Fear that maybe she didn’t feel the same. But he shook that idea from his head. No. She loves me. Why else would she give me this gift?

3

Lyn groaned as she got out of bed. Gael had stayed with her that evening, and he sat up at the sudden noise. “My lord? Are you well?”

Lyn waved him off, “I’m fine. I just have to deal with him today,” she muttered.

“Forgive me for asking, my lord. But if you detest him so much, why keep this Human around?”

She looked back at Gael, “He’s a tool. An asset. Nothing more. But, unlike the Duskari who serve due to what I am, he will only serve if he thinks who I am is the woman that cared for him.” She turned away and went to the bathroom, filling up the tub with the inscription before sinking into the warmth. I’m doing a damned good job at this, she thought. Her ability to obfuscate the truth of her identity was excellent. Perhaps the Destroyer mana core’s personality changes also affect my ability to deceive people. She had never been deceptive or manipulative before. Just blunt, crass, and rude. A no-nonsense, straightforward person. But these falsehoods were coming to her naturally.

Gael came in and bowed slightly, “My lord, I request a day off.”

Lyn gestured for him to leave, “Yes, that’s fine. Tell your sister she is to attend me today.” Gael nodded and left whilst she luxuriated in the bath.

After a short time, she got out and let her mana flow through her whole body, instantly evaporating the water covering her. She pushed more mana into the inscription on the choker and willed the armor to be equipped. Going to the closet and looking in the full-length mirror, she focused her intent on the inscribed armor. It changed and warped as she willed and became as revealing as possible whilst still covering her torso and groin. She liked the look but dreaded why she was doing it. All to manipulate someone she detested. Shaking her head, she looked up as Vael came in. “Did the smithy produce the prototype?”

The female bodyguard nodded and produced a cloth-wrapped item. She handed it to Lyn, and she unwrapped it. It was a simple design, one that could easily be mistaken for a broach. Three lengths of metal, melded together to form a triangle with the excess bent in the same direction. Inspired by her favorite band’s logo, but uniquely hers. “Good. Please tell them that this is perfect, and I want them to always have one hundred stocked.”

“Of course, my lord.” She hesitated for a moment, and Lyn gestured for her to speak. “Why have these made?”

Lyn smirked, “They’re going to be an easy way to identify non-Duskari that are on our side. An emblem we can easily manufacture and distribute to our allies.” Looking at the backside, she was pleased to see that they were able to inscribe the Elenthir phrase she had wanted. Thank God for Ashley.

The Warder hero, who specialized in barriers, wards, divination, and defense from magical threats. She had made communication devices for the heroes – inscribed necklaces that allowed for her to be the loci of the network. Effectively, she was the switchboard and could talk to and relay messages to anyone else. It was her design that Lyn had been inspired by. Lyn felt a pang of guilt and sorrow as she remembered her. Ashley had died because Lyn and Ben had tripped a trap; one that deactivated all spells they had protecting them before bombarding them with poisonous darts. Ashley died within seconds. Her corpse, full of barbs; her skin decaying and sloughing off of her body as the magical poison took effect before Trisha could intervene.

Lyn felt the urge to flee. To run. The inside of Lynhold was too dark, too suffocating – just like that dungeon was. She began to hyperventilate and had to turn from Vael and go into the closet. Letting the mana flow down her arm, she manifested an orb of lava in her hand and simply held it, letting the glow wash away the memories of darkness, panic, and dread. Losing herself in the affirmation of this incredible power at her disposal. Letting the confidence from her newfound strength wash away the memories and push them back into the recesses of her mind. Her breathing calmed and she steadied her resolve. Extinguishing the globule, it hardened to obsidian in her hand, and she dropped it on the ground as it shattered.

Looking at the still-held necklace, she re-read the inscription she had ordered. It was worded innocuously. In English, it read as, ‘Those who wear this / will be seen and heard as allies / of Lyn Rivers / the Destroyer.’ Once she had consumed a mana core that enabled her to use the divination spell type, she would be able to spy on anyone who was wearing it. Was it underhanded? Yes. But she had a plan.

She began to leave, and Vael followed her. “Have the preparations been made?”

Vael nodded, “They have been, my lord.”

“Good.”

4

Her picnic date was unbearable. She feigned interest in Volio and he slowly but surely opened up to her, his shy exterior melting away as she forced herself to giggle and laugh at his crappy attempts at humor.

She had to admit, though, he was a good singer. And when he pulled out a small kalimba and sang her favorite song, she felt a pang of sympathy for him. No attraction towards the serenading song, but pity. He would never have her in the way he thought he would. All his efforts? For naught. She was using him, and he had no clue. He couldn’t be happier.

To seal the deal, she made sure to lean in and kiss him on the cheek – swallowing down the revulsion and making moves towards her stalker. She pulled back and grinned, hiding her disgust. “Thank you for coming to the picnic.”

Volio was all smiles and nodded, “Of course!”

“I have a big ask.”

“Anything!”

“Do you know where Trisha, Ben, or Misty are?”

“Oh, yeah. Ben and Trisha are up in Trisk. Misty is somewhere in Vharthos with her mage school.”

Lyn made sure to lean forward to give him a very good look at her assets. “I really need someone to give them some letters-”

“I’ll do it!”

“Thank you. You’re really too kind. I’ll also have some small packages to deliver. Can you leave tomorrow morning? I want to get us all together again.”

“Of course!” Volio was practically buzzing with excitement.

The picnic fake date lasted a little longer before concluding. Lyn gave him the prototype symbol. “This marks you as my ally. If any Duskari gives you trouble, show them this.”

Volio nodded and seemed like he was about to lean in to try and kiss her, but she made a hidden gesture behind her back that Vael had been told about just for this occasion. “My lord!” she shouted in Arinol. “You wanted me to get your attention when you showed that sign.”

Lyn looked back and nodded before turning back to Volio, keeping to English, “I’ll see you off tomorrow morning.” Thank God. She really, truly, detested the man.

5

Lyn returned to her chambers and stifled a scream into a pillow. She did what needed to be done. The letters would be delivered safely – she was sure of it. Volio was wrapped around her finger. And she hated herself for doing that. For manipulating him. For not just being able to shove him away and say, ‘Get the fuck away from me! I never liked you!’

She took another searing hot bath to try and burn away the disgust. The revulsion. The unmitigated dislike of the guy who perved on her for years, even going so far as to look through the top windows of the girls’ locker room while they were dressing out for P.E. She had to hit something. She wanted guilt-free violence. And she knew one way to get it.

“Vael!” The warrior ran into the room. “How do the troops look?”

“My lord, they are training as you instructed, and Marshal Remora is coordinating the efforts marvelously.”

“Good. Tomorrow we go on an expedition.”

“Where to, my lord?”

Lyn smirked. “To a dungeon.” I need to increase my power further. More mana cores for versatility, or artifacts to upgrade Cataclysm. This path she was embarking on, this decision to build a stronghold, invite allies, and grow her influence…it would put her in conflict with the powers that be.

And she had to be ready. Dungeon delving was nothing new to her. And it would give her a guilt-free way to fucking obliterate something.

6

Kory cackled with delight as he caved in the skull of one of the Valagonia commanders. His mercenaries had been ravaging the countryside of that bitch Cecily’s kingdom. They had looted and pillaged all the outlying towns. Farming villages were left untouched, and his men had very specific instructions to not kill any non-military personnel. They had amassed quite a bit of loot in the form of trade goods. Items they could take to Fort Watch and sell for a tidy profit.

I needed this, he thought. Newen were good sport to kill, but they didn’t crunch the same way that Humans did. The way the organs squished and blood splattered, the satisfying crunch and pop when he shattered a sternum. The bloodshed and anarchy of combat enabled him to just lose himself in the moment. No chance for memories to assault him. No chance for new memories to be formed as he let his body move on instinct, obliterating those in his way.

Next, they would go to Khrelardia. I’ll fucking make James pay, too. He and Cecily both needed to suffer. Putting Kory on guard duty for the Demonic Dragon’s weak forces? Bullshit. He was tired of it. The tiny fights. The skirmishes. They put him to work while they did what? Fucking ruled kingdoms? Where was his reward?

He wanted conflict. He needed a fight. A big one. One where he could completely destroy the memories of the past with new atrocities in the present. And, though not the most inspired of military commanders, he knew enough about politics here in Ghomar to stir the pot. Attack both neighboring kingdoms, get them to point the blame at each other, and then wait for the carnage and chaos of war to take root. Let Cecily and James destroy each other.

Then, he could wade in. Sell his services to whichever side bid more. Stab them in the back, and flip to the other side. Killing all the while. Make a fortune. Go and buy a fucking kingdom of his own.

“Let’s go!” he shouted to his men as they loaded their spoils onto stolen horses and packed up.

“H-h-hold! Y-y-you m-m-meanie!” Kory turned and saw a young boy, no more than ten years old, holding a knife with trembling hands. “G-g-give b-b-back m-m-my s-s-sister’s dolly!”

Kory wheeled on his men, “Who the fuck stole a kid’s doll!” The men looked back and forth to each other. “Well? Who the fuck was it!” Again, silence and looks were all that greeted Kory. “You fuckers think it’s fine stealing kids’ toys?!” He turned to the boy who was trembling, legs shaking in fear at the blood-spattered mountain of a man before him. Kory got off his horse and crouched. “I’ll give you money to buy a new one,” he said softly. “Just put down the knife.”

The boy dropped it and relief washed over him. Kory walked forward – slowly, to make sure the kid felt safe – and gave him a stack of ten Gold Eagles. The kid’s eyes went wide, “Th-thank you, mister.”

Kory tussled his hair, leaving streaks of blood in it. “Tell your parents you fought off the meanies and got some money.” He leaned down and whispered, “And tell them to get out of Valagonia. Tell everyone…war is coming.”

The kid nodded and ran off at full tilt. Kory walked back to his horse and mounted it, glaring at his men who shot questioning glances at him. “Let’s go! We ride West!” He wheeled his mount around and led the way out of the kingdom of Valagonia.

One of his men rode up next to him. One of his veterans who joined his outfit at the outset. “Kory, what in the abyss was that about?”

He looked at the man and set his face in stone. “We don’t fuck around with non-combatants.” More than that, though, Kory knew there were some lines he could never cross. Killing children was one of them. Killing unarmed people who just wanted to run or hide? Another line he would never cross.

But he would do whatever else he damn well pleased as long as it didn’t cross those lines.

Next Chapter >