Chapter 4
Kerrith had to shove his way through a crowd of mages gathered in the hallway. A few angry mutters followed him as he pushed his way out of the crowd and to the laboratory of Professor Icarii, but none attempted to stop him.
"What happened?" he asked the Chancellor of the College.
"There was a bit of row," the Chancellor said. The man, still fit despite his age, stroked his beard as he nodded towards the two people standing well apart from each other, each guarded by several of the faculty.
"Selene? What happened?" Kerrith asked as he walked over to her. Her face was pale and her dress was torn and scorched in places.
"That piece of ox shit tried to drug me," she spat, anger blazing in her eyes as she motioned towards a healthy looking man of about thirty years.
"Is this true?" Kerrith said as he looked towards the other man.
"All lies," the man said.
"Then how did this happen?" Kerrith asked as he looked in the door of the laboratory and saw a scene of destruction. Tables and furniture lay scattered and smashed into kindling. Scorch marks still smoldered on the floor and walls and the smell of smoke and lightning filled the air.
"She wanted me to be her lover," Professor Icarii said calmly. "But when I refused her advances she went insane. No doubt she was unused to being rejected, I imagine that she slept her way into the College. This is why I maintain that we should not allow women as students."
Selene went deathly pale and her eyes narrowed. Kerrith recognized that she was as angry as he had ever seen her. The only other time he had seen her even close to being this angry was when her mother had attempted to forbid her from seeing him. "He is lying," she said through clenched teeth. "Check the glass he gave me, it should still have the traces of the Qualchi powder."
"Qualchi powder?" Kerrith said, aghast. "That's been outlawed for more than a century. Trying to use it is punishable by exile."
"Shame there is no glass," Icarii said smugly as he gestured to a lump of melted glass on the floor. "Seems one of her fireballs conveniently destroyed the evidence."
"You son of a whore," Selene growled. "You were the one who did that."
"Really? It's my word against your word."
"No, I believe it's the truth against your word," the Chancellor said. "We've been watching you since your last student complained to us. I hoped that she was just being petty after being failed by you, but we've had your laboratory under surveillance ever since."
"This is an outrage!" Icarii shouted. "How dare you subject me to such an indignity? The Council will hear of this!"
"The Council," the Chancellor said, "approved this course of action. We will not have the likes of you staining the reputation of the College." With a wave of his hand, the Chancellor set a weave in motion and created a floating image of the laboratory in miniature.
Kerrith watched in growing anger as he saw the way Icarii leered at Selene and then slipped a vial of powder into her drink. He couldn't help but smile when Selene spotted the vial and dropped the glass as she began to weave spells around herself. There was a brief but savage exchange of magic with flames and lightning smashing through the laboratory. The image ended with College faculty bursting into the room and separating the combatants.
"This, this is a fake," Icarii said as a group of faculty stepped near him with weaves of binding at the ready. "This is a conspiracy!"
"No, Icarii, no conspiracy," the Chancellor said. "You have behaved in a manner which would shame even the lowest criminal. For that you will be expelled from the College and your title stripped before you are handed over to the kingdom's authority for arrest and trial." The Chancellor turned to Kerrith and handed him a folded page of paper bearing the seal of the office of the Chancellor and the Council of the College. "We will deliver him to the headquarters of the Knights once we have ensured that he will not escape."
"You'll regret this Thomas! I'll see you pay for this!" Icarii yelled at the Chancellor as he was dragged away, weaves so powerful as to be visible to the untrained eye binding him. "I'll see you and your bitch dead too, Knight! The kingdom will pay!" he screamed at Kerrith before one of the faculty forced his mouth shut with another weave.
Solyma half-dozed as she lounged on the lounge chair in her back yard. The summer sun was pleasingly warm against her body as she stretched and yawned. From the table next to her on the deck she could hear the sound of a pen scratching against paper as Hector corrected the exams. Over on the lawn she could hear the faint swishes as Ismene went through her weapons drills although she looked somewhat silly since Solyma had made her wear a broad brimmed hat to keep the sun off her head.
"Balance," Solyma called out sleepily. She was trying to conserve her energy for the opera that night and for the festival tomorrow. If events went as she hoped there wouldn't be much time for sleeping. I wonder if Jaric likes a tan on a woman, she wondered idly. She could always strip and do some sunbathing...She shrugged inwardly, she doubted that Jaric would care what her skin looked like once she was done with him.
Solyma stirred when she heard the doorbell ring. "Hector, be a dear and-" she started to say but Hector was already drifting back into the house. She listened as he opened the door and ushered someone in, Tancred by the sound of it.
"Tancred," she said, "just the man I wanted to see."
"Really? Why?" Tancred asked as he sat down in a chair next to Hector. His gaze drifted from Solyma to Ismene as he smiled faintly. He could see the shape of the elf's small breasts outlined through her sweat soaked tunic and her legs were left bare from mid-thigh down.
"Kerrith recommended you as the best man with the rapier in Corannon," Solyma said.
"Yes, I suppose I am. But why?"
Solyma nodded towards Ismene. "Her? Why's she need to know how to use a rapier?" He paused for a moment. "You do mean a sword, right? Not-" he trailed off meaningfully. Solyma laughed and sat up. "Yes, a metal sword used for killing people. Not that other sword of yours." She smirked and laughed again. "Although I'd probably call it a dagger."
The opera house was brilliantly lit by scores of lamps that lay across its front like the night sky turned on its side. Solyma leaned her head out the window of the carriage and watched the opera house and the hundreds of guests slowly filing their way into the lobby.
"Amazing," she said quietly at the sight of such splendor.
"Surely this isn't the first time you've attended the opera," Jaric said from across the carriage from her.
"No, of course not," Solyma said quickly and turned to look at Jaric. He was dressed in expensive clothes that were well tailored to his tall and well muscled frame. Solyma took a moment to admire how his tunic clung snugly to his shoulders and how handsome the emblazoned symbol of the Knights looked on his shoulder. She handed the bouquet of flowers that Jaric had given her to Hector as the carriage pulled up in front of the opera house.
About ten minutes later they were inside the grand central lobby of the opera house. A quintet of musicians played chamber music in one corner while the cream of Corannon's upper-class mingled and chatted.
"Are you alright?" Jaric asked as Solyma edged closer to him.
"Yes, I think the heat is getting to me," Solyma said. It was partially true. But most of her discomfort was from the sudden presence of nobility and society. Despite her title which she had been granted by a minor feudal lord of Kilasat, she had never really been comfortable with the upper-class.
"Would you like to mingle for a while or should we head to our box?" Jaric asked solicitously.
"Why don't we go ahead to our seats? Is there somewhere to get something to eat?" Solyma realized she had made a mistake when Jaric gave her a puzzled look. "That was joke, Jaric," she said lightly and felt her heart skip a beat when he smiled and laughed. Dammit, she thought as she slipped her arm through his and started up the main staircase, Hector floating just behind.
Tancred tapped his fingers on the railing at the front of the box. He glanced over at the empty seat next to him and sighed. No one from his usual acquaintances had been available to attend the opera with him, most of them were attending with their husbands. He had hoped that Ismene would have been willing to go with him when she had accepted a ticket, but apparently she had decided not to come.
Hope rose in his heart when he heard the door to the box open and heard soft footsteps. He quickly tried to look like he hadn't been waiting as Ismene sat down next to him.
"I'm sorry I was late, it took forever to get the dress fitted," Ismene said as she sat down.
"Oh, don't be," Tancred said as he turned towards her, "they haven't even started the overture yerrrgghh-" His jaw nearly dropped when he saw Ismene fully. She was wearing a light silk dress that clung to slim body, concealing and revealing at the same time. It was made from a deep blue silk that perfectly matched her eyes. Tancred could feel his mouth dry as his eyes moved up her body to the tantalizing bit of her bosom that the dress revealed and then up to the graceful curve of her neck. "You," he coughed, "you look beautiful."
"Thank you," Ismene said with a small blush. She wasn't used to being complimented on her beauty, much less actually trying to appear beautiful. She had purposely chosen this revealing dress to see exactly what the effect would be on the vampire. She hadn't been disappointed.
The Knight's Legend started off innocuously enough. The opening scenes were of the simple farm of Erys Ivraim and her family. A simple but sweet song of hope for the future and the dreams of Erys and her husband opened the show. The singer playing the part of Erys was superb, her voice climbing high and clear to ring out over the enchanted audience. Solyma leaned forward, entranced by the music. Beside her she could see that Jaric was just as entranced although the beauty of the singer playing Erys could have been responsible for that.
All too soon the tone of the opera changed. Harsh and deafening music signaled the approach of the Dathuz led by the necromancer Tarakash. For a moment the sweet music of the opening rose to confront the Dathuz as Erys and her husband fought desperately to buy time for their children to escape. Even though she had heard the story many times before, the lament of Erys still made Solyma's eyes moisten, although not much. She wasn't especially surprised to see Jaric dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief as Erys buried her family and swore vengeance on Tarakash.
Ismene felt her heart clench as she listened to Erys's last lament as she left the graves of her family to join the tiny army of Krisephyr. A quick martial tune struck up as the soldiers sung about the glory they'd find in war and the quick victory over Tarakash they expected. But underneath the brash and vibrant song was Erys's melancholy and thoughtful tune on the horrors of what she'd seen and the sadness of seeing life wasted in battle.
The rest of the first act passed quickly as the armies of the living clashed with and were defeated by the armies of Tarakash. Ismene found that she couldn't pay attention despite the sweeping music and soaring voices of the singers. At the beginning of the second act all she could think of was death and loss. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she thought again of Lord Volchim and she forced herself to clamp down on her feelings. She desperately turned her attention back to the opera as Erys led a small band of warriors through a narrow mountain pass in a slow retreat. Ismene noticed that Tancred was softly singing along with the music, he seemed to know the words of the rallying song by heart.
"No matter what the cost/ no matter how great the loss/ we must stand and hold/ this place/ for each moment bought/ with our life's blood/ shall be one more life saved," he sang in his pleasant tenor voice. On stage Erys dismissed her companions as she took her place blocking the mountain pass.
Thunder roared and lightning flashed in the background as Tarakash advanced for the final battle with the woman who had constantly been a thorn in his side. Their last conversation was a duel of songs, each verse louder and more powerful than the one before as Erys sang of loss and vengeance while Tarakash sang of death and power.
Ismene found herself becoming lost in the music and gladly let it sweep her away as Erys and Tarakash dueled across the stage. In a spectacular feat of stage direction, flame seemed to leap from Erys' sword while lightning flashed over Tarakash's scythe. Sparks and showers of light leapt from their weapons as they clashed and sang, moving towards the climax. Despite herself, Ismene felt her knuckles whiten as she clutched at the railing of the box, leaning forward to catch every detail as Erys stabbed her sword downward through Tarakash's heart while his scythe slashed into her side and darkness fell over the stage.
She realized she was breathing heavily as the dark silence went on for a half minute and then the lights came up again to show Erys lying back against a rock while her companions rushed up. For a moment they sang the chorus of the marching song until they saw that Erys was mortally wounded. In a slow and sweet voice, Erys sang the words of the idyllic days before the war. Ismene gasped as she listened and watched as onstage Erys slumped in the arms of her companions and died.
Unwanted emotions flooded through Ismene as the companions sang their song of mourning and lifted Erys' body. The vision of Lord Volchim's body in the moonlight was too much for her and she bowed her head in pain.
"Ismene?" Tancred asked. "What's wrong?" He watched in alarm as a trail of tears flowed down Ismene's cheeks and a sob so wrenching that it shook her entire body tore through her. He gasped and pulled back in surprise when she lunged and grabbed his head, pulling him towards her to kiss him with a fierce intensity. He could taste the salt of her tears as she pressed herself against him and began to desperately undo his clothing. "Ismene, please, we're in public," he said as she climbed onto his lap and straddled him. "Someone might see."
"So?" she snapped as she fiercely yanked up her dress. "Just fuck me," she said in choked voice.
Tancred's resistance faded quickly as her warm and lithe body pressed against his. Her breasts were firm and deliriously exciting as they rubbed against him through the fabric of her dress. He groaned into her mouth as she yanked open his breeches and pulled out his cock. Tancred pushed Ismene's dress up around her waist and bent his mouth to her breasts, soaking the thin silk of her dress as he suckled on them. His senses were flying high as the smell of her blood wafted into his nostrils.
"Oh, gods," he mumbled as he kissed her again and worked his hand between them to grab her underwear. He yanked at them fiercely and sent the tattered bit of cloth flying over the railing and towards the people below.
They both grunted as the chair rocked backwards and toppled to the floor with them on it. Tancred winced as his head bounced off the carpet and Ismene yanked his breeches down. He gasped loudly as she lifted herself up and impaled herself on his cock, her tight wet warmth squeezing him with a delicious pressure. Ismene's breath was hot on his cheek as she grunted with each grinding motion of her hips. All the while she was kissing him as her hands grabbed at his shoulders.
Tancred moaned loudly as Ismene began to rut herself against him, her hips moving furiously against him. She bit at his lip as her slim fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders painfully. Tancred gasped in pleasure and tried to slow her movement by placing his hands on her hips but she ignored him and increased the speed of her motions.
"Ismene, slow down," he moaned as she collapsed onto his chest. He could feel tears soaking his shirt as she continued to grind her hips against him. He clenched his teeth as he felt himself lose control and jerked his hips as he spurted into her, their bodies slapping wetly together. He became gradually aware of someone pounding on the door to the box as Ismene's body tensed and went rigid for a moment before she went limp. Tancred gently lifted her body off his and placed her on the floor next to him as he hurriedly did up his pants and straightened his shirt.
Ismene lay on her back with her eyes shut, not caring that her dress was still hiked over her waist. For a while, in the heat of the act, she had managed to forget everything, she could concentrate only on the merging of two bodies. She still couldn't get Lord Volchim out of her mind as Tancred lifted her and smoothed her dress down.
"Nothing we can do about your underwear," he said with forced cheerfulness as he edged his head over the railing. He spotted a very angry looking matron shaking the scrap of silk in her hands as she screamed at a cowering usher and pulled his head back before she could look up.
Tancred dabbed at Ismene's face with his handkerchief with a worried smile and frowned when he saw the cold and sad look in her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked again, mystified by her behavior.
"Nothing," she said hollowly as she felt a curtain drop over her heart, shutting off her feelings as completely as she could. "Nothing."
Solyma arrived home humming the overture from the opera. She kissed Jaric one last time as he held the coach door open for her and skipped up the steps to her front door with Hector just behind. She paused when she saw that the door was ajar and surreptitiously summoned a weave of fire around her hand.
"What's wrong?" Jaric asked as he walked up. Solyma nodded towards the door and Jaric moved in front of her. Solyma rolled her eyes and followed him into the house.
"Hello?" she called out as she motioned for Hector to scout the upstairs. "Anyone home?"
Just after she and Jaric had finished inspecting the downstairs rooms she heard Hector calling from the bedroom. She rushed up with Jaric in tow and swore when she saw Ismene sprawled across the bedsheets with a bottle in her hand.
"That was my best wine," she said as she checked Ismene's heartbeat and breathing. "She's fine," she sighed, "just fell asleep."
"Is there anything I can do?" Jaric asked.
"No, you'd better go home, I'll take care of this. I don't think she'll want to see an unfamiliar face when she wakes up."
Jaric nodded and slowly left with a goodbye. Solyma absently responded as she took the nearly empty bottle from Ismene and set it on the nightable. "What am I ever going to do with you?" she said softly as she tucked the sheets around Ismene and stroked the elf's hair gently.
Kerrith lay on his back in the small bed in the barracks and dreamed. Across the city in her apartment, Selene stirred uneasily and clutched at the sheets as she too dreamed...
He was standing on a barren and jagged slope of black, basaltic rock. The only light was from the magma that ran in drooling rivulets around him, pulsing in streams like the blood flowing from a dying man's veins.
Heat buffeted him as he felt his gaze drawn ahead and upward. There, standing on a rocky outcropping was a man, coldy handsome with teeth that crackled with lightning. His cloak flapped like a living thing in the baking wind that was spewed from the volcano's caldera as he raised a gnarled metal staff shod in yellowed bone.
Kerrith knew him, had seen him somewhere before...
...
On silk sheets, Ismene and Solyma dreamed as well...
Solyma stared at the molten surface of the volcano and felt the heat baking her face as she sweated profusely. Beside her, Ismene clutched at her arm and glanced up at the sky. She gasped, there were no stars left in the sky, only a vast churning cloud that stretched from horizon to horizon. Her horror mounted when she realized that the cloud was formed from winged creatures that swooped and dove, their cries as loud and harsh as thunder.
Solyma forced her gaze away from the horrible sight above her and turned away from the glowing caldera of the volcano. There, behind her were the lights of a great city nestled on the edge of a large bay. It was Corannon.
Before she had anymore time to study the city, she heard an all too familiar voice from behind her. "Solyma," it said. "Did you think I would ever leave you?"
Solyma turned, her body stiff with terror as she stared into the leering face of Valkersan. But it wasn't Valkersan, it was something wearing his body like a cloak. Beneath his skin she saw something moving, something that froze her to the spot with terror...
...
Sitting back in his favorite armchair, Tancred dreamed...
There was a face, a face from the distant past. "Cirron," he whispered. The face drew closer and Tancred saw that it was the face of one long dead.
"Look at what you did to me, Tancred!" Cirron shouted. "Look!" The man swept his hand over the decaying mess of his body. What flesh that still clung to his molding bones was decayed and oozing with pus. His eyes were half eaten away and Tancred saw a writhing mass of maggots swarming through Cirron's skull and mouth.
Tancred drew back, his hand going to his sword and finding nothing as Cirron drew closer, his face distorting as his body swelled with putrid gas and he raised a massive trident. "Die!" he yelled and stabbed downward, pinning Tancred to the jagged rock beneath...
...
Lying curled under the sheets, Penelope dreamed...
"You will be my bride and our child will destroy all of creation," a voice whispered into her ear. "You will be the most honored of my wives, you will be the mother of the one who will consume this world. The gods will be overthrown and the Corthronos will reclaim the stars."
Heat washed over her face as she turned to face the voice. Shadow masked the voice's face and she leaned closer to see. As she did she heard a sound like cloth ripping and the face lunged forward, its skin sloughing off and falling in ragged strips around her feet. Penelope backed away, her hands up, trying desperately to ward off the thing advancing towards her and whispering for a kiss...
...
Kerrith peered out over the blasted landscape. What had once been the richest cropland of Krisephyr was devastated, the crops perverted into ghastly versions of their former selves. Where wheat had rippled in the summer wind, fields of wetly gleaming tentacles entwined around the cracked bones of their victims.
Then he saw what had done that to the land. They swarmed across the plains like cockroaches, their skinless bodies gleaming in the fires burning in the villages that they swept through. Skinless hands gripped rusted weapons and hacked down the innocent and young, sparing no one. As the foul tide drew closer, Kerrith saw that it was not rust that stained their weapons but the blood of all their victims. His victims? he thought.
Rock bit into his knees as he dropped to the ground, his hands clutching at the slick rock of the volcano. There, lying like a discarded doll was Selene, her body stained with blood and her eyes vacant of any life. Kerrith roared with anger as he leapt to his feet, his sword in his hand as he charged towards her murderer only to see himself.
...
Solyma watched as the lights of Corannon were extinguished in the tide that flowed over them. Glimmering in the moonlight, she saw the waters of the sea turn black with the blood that flowed from the dead. The stain spread across the surface of the water until it was if the sea was a hole cut in from the night.
Then she saw the blood falling in a storm over Kathaln. She saw her home village drowned in the blood of the murdered and the Citadel toppled and burning as fleshless abominations stalked the streets, their hands coated in the life blood of demons.
Then she was standing on the ramparts of the Royal Palace while below her Corannon burned. As she looked along the walls she saw Kerrith and Asgrim but no Tancred. A gust of smoke obscured her vision and when she looked back all she could see were the corpses lining the streets as an endless horde of Corthronos marched over them...
...
Kerrith found himself standing on the battlements of the Royal Palace staring down as a river of Corthronos poured through the burning streets of Corannon. His sword was heavy in his grasp and he saw that he had somehow, impossibly, lost his shield.
"A warning, Knight of the Shield," someone said from behind him. "The only one we can give." Kerrith turned and saw a blinding light hovering in the sky over the western sea. As he squinted his eyes he thought he could make out the forms of towering figures guarding a portal bound with bands of glass. "Heed well what the Oracle foretells," Adramas said as he looked down on Kerrith. "And make your choice wisely, for you will be the chosen of the gods."
Kerrith turned back towards Corannon when he heard a scream echo from thousands of throats. The Corthronos flowed over the walls of the palace towards him, striking down the defenders as if they were wheat before the scythe. From behind him he heard the sound of glass shattering and a cry of awful triumph that froze his very soul.
"The Makath stir and the Corthronos rise again," he heard the god say in an echoing voice that faded as if carried by the wind...
...
Solyma woke with a gasping scream caught in her throat. She sat up frantically and looked over towards Ismene. The elf girl stirred once and rolled over onto her side with a soft sigh. Solyma wiped cold sweat from her brow as she looked out the window. Corannon was still there, no tide of blood had extinguished its lights.
"I killed you," Solyma whispered to herself as she cradled her face in her hands and then swept them back through her hair. Why did I say that? she wondered as she took a deep, shuddering breath of the cool night air. Ismene was still sleeping peacefully as Solyma slipped out of the bed and downstairs to where Hector was working on one of his paintings.
"Hector, pack the bags," she said. "We're getting out of here."
Vashel Icarii tightened the straps on his backpack and turned to look back at Corannon. He had stopped on a small hill about five miles from the city walls. From there he could see the crescent expanse of the city as it spread over the peninsula from the brightly lit city walls to the moonlit spires of the palace. All he had was the clothes on his back and the few items he had stashed away and managed to retreive before he had been forcibly expelled from the city. In his coat pocket was a letter, written in code and sealed magically. He held the letter up and read it by the moonlight once again, pausing at the signature at the bottom.
"Lord Gamenos Loradros, the Kingdom of Taladros," he whispered and laughed softly. With a wave of his hand the paper disappeared in a flash of fire and puff of smoke. Icarii smiled ferally as he sat on a fallen tree trunk and reached into his coat. The book was burnt and tattered. "Valkersan," he said softly and grinned widely.
The End
The World of Alderest - V - Festival - Chapter 4
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