“…For four days, the Herazor and their followers stayed as Zermayix’s guests, with Vorn housed in one wing and his sisters in another. Their every need was met, and food and drink were plentiful. But Vorn’s sisters saw and heard no sign of him, and as the days passed they grew ever more concerned and restless…”
-The Elder Zorath, The Book of the First Time
Thalsi paced back and forth across the carpeted floor, arms crossed, fingers endlessly drumming against her forearm. With every lap of the white walled room given to her and her sisters as lodging, she looked over at where her hooked spear leant against the wall. It gave her comfort to know where it was, to know it was at hand if she had need of it.
“You can sit down, Thalsi,” Ariana said from where she reclined on a red cushioned couch. “Zera will be back as soon as she’s able.
Thalsi looked over at her, scowling.
How can she be so relaxed?
They hadn’t seen Vorn in four days, and Zermayix, when he rarely appeared, was always deflective of their questions about vantarite, or Vorn, or anything. Yesterday, Zera had discovered the gates of the castle’s eastern wing were locked, barring them from leaving or looking for their brother. Then this morning, Zera had said she was going to ‘see what she could find out,’ whatever that meant, and disappeared. That had been almost six hours ago.
“I’m just as concerned as you are,” Ariana said in her soft voice. “But stressing yourself out about it isn’t going to help anyone. Sit down, take some deep breaths.”
Thalsi paused and glanced at the chair beside Ariana. Then she grunted, and grabbing her spear, stalked towards the door. Zera and Vorn might be in danger. She couldn’t just sit around doing nothing.
“Don’t do anything rash, Thalsi,” Ariana warned.
Thalsi gave her a questioning look. What is that supposed to mean?
“I’m not saying do nothing, but we don’t know to what extent or even if anything is amiss. Until we know for certain, act with caution and take care not to offend our host. He may yet be getting us the vantarite.”
Thalsi rolled her eyes and left. Typical Ariana.
She turned left down the hall outside and passed the door leading to Ama and Hemor’s chambers. They’d been quartered in the eastern wing of the castle with Thalsi and her sisters. Thalsi assumed the Lowlanders that Vorn so loved had been quartered with him wherever that was.
Thalsi growled. A strange woman smiles at him and he completely loses his mind. We don’t know the intentions of these people. How could he be so stupid?
She entered the wing’s mess hall, smaller than the one in which they’d been feasted on their first arrival here, but still wide and cavernous.
One of the ratlike servants was clearing away the remnants of the morning’s meal from the long central table stack. It squeaked when it saw her and went to scamper off.
“Psst!” Thalsi hissed.
It stopped and eyed her, shaking.
She strode over to the table and tapped an empty wine pitcher.
It nodded and scampered over to a small side door, unlocked it with a key from its belt, and disappeared.
I wonder if it understood me. Sometimes it was hard to tell.
She sat at the table and waited. At the hall’s far end was a set of wide double doors, through which they’d first entered the eastern wing. They were locked now. They can’t be that strong though. She ran a finger over her spear’s head. We could break out if we needed to.
The servant returned quickly, bearing a full pitcher of wine. It took care to lock the small door it used before bringing it over to her.
Thalsi nodded as it poured her a glass. She took a sip, and the servant returned to clearing the table. The others had commented on the wine’s deliciousness, but Thalsi had never been able to taste much; all wine was the same to her.
With a stack of plates in its arms, the servant shuffled back over to the door and unlocked it. Thalsi downed the rest of her wine and grabbed her spear.
Ariana said not to do anything rash, but what does she know?
Balancing the stack of plates in one hand, the servant swung the door open.
Thalsi launched herself over the table, throwing her spear. It struck the doorframe, inches from the servant’s nose, with its haft across the exit. The servant squealed, falling back in a crash of porcelain. Thalsi sprinted forward. The servant scampered to its feet and tried to scurry under the spear. Thalsi grabbed its tail and yanked it back. It froze, trembling, its eyes wide.
Thalsi grunted. The thing was terrified. Instead of killing it, she tore the keyring from its belt and let it go. It stayed put, cowering.
Thalsi retrieved her spear, and going on to her belly, slid through the tiny door into the empty corridor beyond.
She stalked through a series of crumbling corridors, many lined with faded tapestries or weathered and chipped busts of statues. Eventually she passed into the main hall where they’d been feasted on their arrival. The putrid stench of rotting food washed over her and she wrinkled her nose, trying not to gag. The long table running through the chamber’s center was still leaden with the remnants of the feast, left to rot and moulder: food for bulbous flies.
Here she paused for a moment. Several doorways lined the walls. At the back of the hall, a door sat to either side of the wall length Tarneb tapestry. Thalsi made for the door on the tapestry’s left: the one through which Antariasta had entered.
She paused with her hand inches from the knob. The tapestry did not quite touch the floor. She pulled it up, revealing a small, simple door bound by rusted iron.
She glanced around. She was alone.
She listened at the door. Beyond was only silence.
She pushed on it and it swung inwards with a long rusted creak. Within was a deep, spiralling stairwell with masonry much older than that of the rest of the castle.
She descended into a rounded chamber cobbled together from cracked cyclopean blocks. A deep purple glow emanated from a wide, open archway before her.
She stole over to it and peered inside. Within was a large, rounded chamber, the centre of which was dominated by a huge obelisk of clear stone. From its depths peered the eye of Tarneb, wreathed in purple flame. Zermayix knelt before it.
“I have them contained for now, my lord,” Zermayix said in a quivering voice. “Zera almost escaped, but I managed to retain her.”
“And the Son of Miraz?” Tarneb’s deep voice rumbled from the crystal.
“Safely under Antariasta’s spell.”
Thalsi bristled.
“He bears the mark of Thoh?”
“Yes.”
Tarneb laughed, and the crystal pulsed. “Very clever.”
“What does it mean?”
“Thoh has attached his spirit to Vorn’s. How integrated they are, I do not know. But Thoh has escaped the underworld. Zenops must be furious.”
“Thoh… lives?”
“So it seems, but it matters not. Slay Vorn and send Thoh back to Zenops.”
“Sl…slay? Is it possible for one such as me to slay a Herazor?”
“Take the fang that powers the messenger stone and use it as a weapon. They will die.”
“Yes, my lord. But… I had hoped…”
“What? Speak or hold your tongue, but don’t waste my time stumbling over your words.”
“I… ah… I’d hoped to keep Vorn. Few of the Tenebrisi still live and those that do are not a suitable match for Antariasta. Vorn though…”
“Is keeping Vorn within your power?”
“I’m sure it will not be long before he is so deep under Antariasta’s spell that he will have forgotten the Middle World entirely.”
“Keep him then, but kill the rest.”
“But is it right for a host to murder his–”
“Do not question me, Zermayix. The life of Vorn is the extent of my generosity.”
“Yes, my lord. Thank you.”
The eye in the crystal shimmered away and the light faded, leaving the chamber dim and cold.
Zermayix bent down, retrieving a forearm long fang from where it was embedded in the crystal obalisk’s base, then turned to leave. Thalsi shrunk back into a shadowed corner. She held her breath as he walked past, praying to Ilo he wouldn’t see her. He passed by and vanished up the stairwell.
She waited and counted out several breaths, then followed. Crouching low at the top, she peered out beneath the tapestry into the hall. Zermayix stood in its centre, cradling Tarneb’s tooth. A cluster of ratlike servants crowded around him.
“What?” He cried. “How could you be so stupid?”
A servant, the one who Thalsi had taken the keys from, shrunk back, answering in a series of squeaks and grunts.
“Fool!” He rapped his knuckles on the side of the creature’s face and it collapsed backward. Then Zermayix glanced around fitfully. “She could be anywhere by now.”
One of the servants squeaked.
“You’d better be right. Go lock all the doors. We need to keep the Herazor as contained as possible. And kill all the mortals. The ones out on the ship as well.”
They answered in a chorus.
“That doesn’t matter. There are ten of you for every one of them, and only Vorn’s guards carry weapons. If you come across Thalsi, waylay her as best you can. No, it doesn’t matter how many of you she kills, so long as she doesn’t reach her brother.”
None moved.
“Go!”
The servants scattered.
Zermayix hesitated, shaking his head and studying the fang in his arms. “No good can come of this,” he muttered, then strode across the hall and exited by a side door.
Thalsi waited a moment, then hastened to follow.
The passage he led her down was narrow and dim, with many alcoves and branching corridors. He moved furtively, frequently pausing to glance over his shoulder. Thalsi kept her distance, moving quickly and quietly between hiding places.
She followed him down a flight of stairs and into a low-ceilinged chamber. Zera hung in its midst, chained hand and foot. She was dishevelled and gagged, with deep scratches down the side of her face as if she’d been attacked by some sort of clawed beast.
Thalsi lingered at the threshold.
Zera looked at Zermayix and her eyes widened at the sight of the fang clasped in his hands. Then she glanced at Thalsi but made no sign.
“I’m truly sorry, Zera,” Zermayix muttered, turning the fang over in his hands. “I would’ve kept you here as honoured guests. I swear by Ilo’s light it is so, but…”
Zera made a muffled grunt through her gag and strained against her bonds.
“Well it doesn’t matter,” Zermayix continued. “Just know that I have no ill will towards you. I simply act in service of my master.”
Zermayix stepped towards her.
Thalsi flowed through the threshold, swift and silent, swinging the butt of her spear in a single sure strike, catching Zermayix’s temple and throwing him down. He cried out and the fang flew from his hands.
In another fluid motion, Thalsi reversed her grip and shattered the chains restraining Zera, before bringing her spear’s tip within inches of Zermayix’s face.
Zermayix cowered. “Please don’t kill me,” he whined.
Zera pulled off her gag and stood. “Be careful, Thalsi. He’s not the harmless old man he pretends to be.”
“I’m sorry, Zera, truly. I have no ill will towards you or your kin, but if Tarneb issues me a command, what choice do I have?”
Zera shook her head. “There’s always a choice, Zermayix. Give me the vantarite,” she said, holding out her hand. “We’re leaving.”
His hand went to the amulet around his neck. “No. This is the mark of the Tenebrisi kings, a sacred heirloom.”
“Yet you’re no king. I don’t have patience for this.” She nodded to Thalsi.
Thalsi brought the haft of her spear around, cracking him on the jaw. He cried out, spitting up a wad of dark blood.
“You’re pathetic,” Zera said, kneeling down and ripping the amulet from around his throat. Then she picked up the fang and turned for the door. “Don’t try to follow us, Zermayix. We won’t show you mercy a second time. Come on Thalsi let’s get the others and go. Ilo’s will it’s not too late for Vorn.”
If you have any feedback regarding the story, either positive or negative, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’m always looking to improve.
Thank you for your time and attention, I truly do appreciate it.
Superb writing, I was hooked. Thank you for putting this story together 🙏🏾.
Really enjoyed this one, Max! Gotta love a “there’s always a choice” moment! ♾️