Thralls of a Dread Lord (1.61T)
Welcome to my weekly serial. This is a rough draft that I am working on, for your reading pleasure.
It is a fairly grim tale, so be warned.
Here is the first post from this series.
<>
“We can’t let her go,” said Uyage, eyes wide. “What if she escapes?”
“You can shoot me in the leg if I run,” shrugged Albyursia. “The thread on your friend’s life is fraying, Wildborn. I can save her, if you trust me.”
Retaak looked at Uyaashie. The Hob woman veins were all black and her skin was ashen. She lay there, limp, her breathing laboured, occasionally letting our a pitiful whimper. Letting her die would be the prudent thing to do. Ushochhushi had compelled them to deliver Albyursia to him at all costs. Failing to do so would lead to death, or worse. But Retaak was not like most spawn. He was Wildborn and he was willing to defy the Dread Lord and his underlings so save a friend.
He also trusted Albyursia. She was remarkably calm, even in the grips of the Desolation, and seemed to find a reason to laugh at everything. What was more she knew much of the world, the wider world which he longed to be a part of.
“Give me your word of honour that you will not run,” said Retaak.
“Of course.”
Retaak waited. Albyursia rolled her eyes and sighed. “I give you my word of honour, as a freelander and a scion of Aven wood, that I will not run. I so swear.”
Retaak strode over to the elven woman, noticing that the flowers in her hair were somehow still fresh, even after the Desolation. He fumbled with the collar for a moment, releasing the catch. It fell to the ground. The Elf woman looked at him and smirked, but she did not run.
Without ceremony, Albyursia knelt on the ground beside Uyaashie, moving the bedding scraps so that hey knees we on the soil and grass. The gesture struck Retaak as significant. He knew little of Magic, even the small spells performed by Kuzat and Uyaashie; those Fellspawn who had it guarded their secrets zealously.
The elf put her hand on Uyaashie. The Hob stirred under her touch, moaning in pain. Uyage reached for an arrow, but Kuzat forestalled her as Albyursia began to whisper. Something changed in the clearing, akin to moment just before two battle lines collide. Retaak found himself holding his breath. Verdant runes, so small and delicate that he could hardly see them began to appear in a circle around Albyursia’s finger where it rested on Uyaashie’s arm.
“It is high magic,” whispered Kuzat, awe cracking in his voice.
And as they watched the black began to snake out of Uyaashie’s veins, slowly at first and then quite rapidly. The wind blew all around them and the tall trees swayed and soon enough Uyaashie was free of poison.
“That seemed easy,” said Retaak.
Albyursia laughed. “They why didn’t you do it?”
Before Retaak could respond, a distant wail, like that of a woman screaming drifted out of the Desolation.
“It appears that Karniloth does not appreciate being denied her victim,” said Kuzat, smiling.
“Perhaps not,” said Albyursia, looking around. “But if we have drawn her attention, then we will have attracted other eyes as well. Be wary.”
<>
