The Tears of Kas̆dael

Oh What a Beautiful Morning Oh What a Beautiful Day....


Despite the dependably horrible weather, Jasper was in a chipper mood as they rode back to the castle.

"Selene's Grace, how long are you going to keep whistling?"

He smiled guiltily as Ihra broke down after thirty minutes of his impromptu medley. "Hey, I'm a damned good whistler."

"You aren't bad," she admitted begrudgingly, "But it's still whistling. How can you even whistle at a time like this?"

"Supper time?" He asked with pretend confusion, and she rolled her eyes. "I could sing if you'd prefer. Oh, what a beautiful morning! Oh, what-"

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

He shrugged. "I do, but what's wrong with looking on the bright side?"

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Ihra stared at him with genuine puzzlement. "Cause that does not sound like you at all. That stoneflesh witch didn't put some kind of mind control on you, did she?"

"Is she even a mage? But, nah," he jingled his wrist, allowing her to see the protective amulet tied around it. "I haven't been bewitched. I know we've still got a lot of things to worry about - and boy is that an understatement," he added under his breath, "but things are also looking up a bit."

"We've got some new allies, rescued Damqa's father - if he ever wakes up," he glanced over his shoulder at the unconscious man draped across his saddle, "-learned more about this blood mage, and even bought some time. With a little luck, maybe this trip of his will last long enough for some reinforcements to arrive."

"Like luck is on our side," Ihra muttered.

"Isn't it? I mean, yes, we've run into more than our fair share of monsters, but we're also alive when we probably shouldn't be. Hell, we should have died to the Atrometos on our first trip out, and look at us now - we killed a dozen of those bad boys without too much trouble. Maybe this blood mage will be just as easy."

"I suppose you're right - mages are legendary for being easy to defeat," she replied sarcastically.

"Eh, I know," Jasper grimaced. "I know we're in for a hell of a time but, geez, there's no need to rain on my parade. The weather around here is doing a fine enough job of that as it is."

"On that, we can agree," she chuckled lightly. "I will be very happy to say goodbye to this province."

"You can say that again," he agreed, "But-"

"Something's wrong." Ihra cut him off, reining her stag in hard, as she stared at the village in the near distance.

He sobered up instantly as he sidled up next to her. "What do you see? Bandits?"

"Nothing."

He frowned. "And nothing's concerning because…?"

"There's no one there, Jasper. There's no light in the windows, there's no kids running around, there's no men in the tavern. I can't even hear their livestock. It's completely silent."

"Crap." He closed his eyes as the realization sank in. "We've been so focused on protecting the castle, I didn't even think about this village. You sure there's no one there?"

"Maybe they're hiding?" she offered tentatively, but they both knew how unlikely that was.

They rode in silence the rest of the way, a silence that matched the pall that hung over the village, for Ihra had been right. The tavern and cottages alike set empty, with meals uneaten at the tables and farm implements abandoned in the fields. Even the livestock were missing, everything from the smallest chick to the tough old bull the tavern had owned. They were all gone.

"What do we do now?" Jasper felt at a loss as he stood in the empty courtyard of the inn. He was no tracker, but even he could tell that the tracks led down the road to Merôm in the direction of the bandit camp.

Ihra was equally as glum as she surveyed the empty village. "Was the meeting just a ruse to kidnap the villagers?"

"Then why order Damqa to keep the gates closed? No," Jasper shook her head, "I don't think the Ammatu had anything to do with this. This is the blood mage's doing, his trip, or at least a part of it. But it also means she doesn't know his plans as well as she thinks he does. Damn it!" He lashed out, slamming his fist against the stable wall and cracking the wood. "We messed up, and these people are going to pay the price. We have to rescue them."

"Jasper…" He didn't need to see her to know she was shaking her head. "We aren't even sure if we can beat him from behind the castle's walls. We have no hope of storming their camp."

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"We might have a shot if the rest of the bandits turn on him," he replied stubbornly.

"And do you really think we can count on that?"

He didn't. As much as he wanted to believe the Ammatu could deliver on her word, the missing villagers were already proof that she had less control than she thought. Yet, the idea of abandoning them to their fate was deeply unpalatable. "I…"

Jasper wanted to say they should go after them, wanted to convince her that at a minimum, they should scout out their location, but he knew it was folly. He'd been lucky as hell to escape the camp the last time; he doubted it would happen again. His shoulders sagged at the realization, and he leaned his head against the cracked stable wall. "God, I hate this place sometimes. Those people don't deserve this."

"They don't." Ihra came to stand beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. "But getting ourselves killed is pointless if it doesn't save them."

"I know," he grunted. "And I guess if we can't save them, then there's only one thing left to do."

"What's that?"

"Avenge them," he replied grimly.

The meeting had gone as well as she could have hoped, a statement that was not nearly as positive as it had sounded.

Having had only a brief encounter with the Corsyth mage before, Alikah had nurtured hope, faint though it might have been, that he was stronger than he had seemed. The meeting had crushed that.

Oh, there was no denying that, for his apparent youth, the oddly colored Corsyth was talented. He'd been cagey about the details of what he could do, understandably not fully willing to trust her, but she'd been suitably impressed by what she'd seen. At least two categories of spells, fire and an unusual affinity she didn't quite recognize, and a strong resistance, if not outright immunity, to flame.

But he was too low-level.

Alikah wasn't sure how strong the blood mage really was. There were so many rumors and tall tales about his attacks on the Empire that it was difficult to separate the truth from fiction, but after meeting him in person, there was no doubt in her mind that he was considerably stronger than her.

His bloody tendrils had downed her nearly as easily as they had the Corsyth, freezing her in place while her nerves screamed in agony. She'd thought then that he might kill her, the sword in his hand trembling as he'd glared down at her with unabashed hatred. But she'd managed to talk her way out of it, she'd managed to convince him that she had only been trying to help.

The stunt hadn't done her reputation any favors, as the mage never missed an opportunity to make a snarky remark about her 'failure,' but he'd let her live. It had given her a window of opportunity that she'd seized to the best of her abilities, but it was hard to feel optimistic.

If Ēpis̆dāma could beat her down like a child, and she was stronger than Yas̆peh, did they really have a chance at beating him? She doubted it, but a slim chance was better than a certain death.

Fortunately, the weather chose to cooperate as they neared the camp. With the rain beating down so hard that she could barely see ten feet in front of her, it was an easy task to slip through the lines unseen.

She took care of her mount herself, rubbing the horse down and covering it with a blanket before heading back to her small cottage.

The fire had gone out as she was gone, leaving the room dark and damp, and she stomped over to the hearth with a muttered curse. Sparks flew from the flint and steel, slow to catch on the green wood, but with a bit of kindling, she nursed the flame to health. Only then did she realize that she was not alone.

"Did you usually go to sleep so late?"

Alikah nearly jumped out of her skin, spinning around as the gravelly voice greeted her.

"Lord Ēpis̆dāma-" She faltered with her words for only a second before regaining her composure. "I trust your trip went well?"

"Oh, very well. Very well, indeed," the man smiled smugly. "I accomplished everything I was hoping for."

She willed herself to hold still, to hide the trembling in her hands as he stepped out of the shadows.

"And I see your trip was a success too!"

"My trip?" She wrinkled her brow in faux confusion. "If you mean our scouting expedition, I guess it went okay. Nothing unusual to report…"

"Tsk." The man shook his head. "No need to play dumb, Ammatu. I know all about your little meeting with the Corsyths. Tell me, how long have you been plotting to betray your people?"

"I don't know-"

"Don't." Though he spoke softly, the dark glint in his eye cut off her last shred of hope that she could talk her way out of this.

"Since I realized you were going to kill us all."

"So?" The man shrugged. "Does that absolve you from your responsibilities?"

"Yes. We fight for our lords, and they take care of us; they take care of us, and we fight for them. That's how it works - mutual obligation," she spat. "I didn't betray them - they betrayed us."

Ēpis̆dāma's lips curled with amusement. "You know, if this was a court of law, you might just have a point, but we both know the lords don't play by the same rules."

"Maybe not, but that does mean I'm going to let you just kill us."

"Unfortunately, my dear, that's where you're wrong."

The shriek of metal filled the air as she whipped her dagger out of its scabbard and sprang forward.

Five feet. Three feet. One.

The man's smile remained unchanged, and as the firelight glinted off her dagger, Alikah finally saw what the darkness had hidden.

The ceiling was covered with his tendrils, a writing, rotting mess of viscous blood that reached out to consume her. Her hand froze as the tendril latched onto her hands, her body shutting down as the bloody vines burrowed into her flesh. She fell to the ground, paralyzed as the mage rose and looked down at her.

"You know, you're smarter than they said. Just as much of a pain in the ass, but smarter. It's too bad you didn't come to me first. I might have been persuaded to let you live in exchange for certain…" his eyes slid to the valley of flesh between her bosom, "privileges. But I suppose it's just as well; this little scheme of yours should get me through the doors."

"Ki-kill. Me. Please. Just-" The mage laughed as she used what little control she had left over her body to spit out the words, and the tendrils began to move again, burrowing deeper into her flesh, and slithering into her open mouth.

"Oh, no, my dear, I'm afraid your death is still a while off. But don't worry - I don't need your mind, just your body. Do hold still," he smirked at his own grim joke, "this is going to hurt."

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