Chapter 3.6 – More Questions than Answers

I had to kill two people before the ferry and hated every second of it. I’m a healer, not some mindless warrior who finds solutions in violence. But my mission is too important to take any risks, and they tried to slow me. Leaving bodies behind was not ideal either, but I hid them as best I could, one behind thick shrubs and one in a gully that ran through the woods. You’d have to be right on top of it and look down to notice it. It was all I had time for.

I made haste from the scene of each crime and tried not to think about their families, friends, loved ones. It pained me to take a life, and yet if I were unsuccessful, so many more lives were at stake. Out of habit, I whispered a prayer to Se Karn, though I assumed he wouldn’t hear it. Then I forced it from my mind. I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted by grief—not theirs, not mine.

I’d never been to this section of the coast but knew there were small towns and fishing villages where I might hop a ship across the divide. Getting one to take me to the Brotherhood would probably be a good deal harder. Imagine my surprise when two Brethren awaited my arrival. It seemed I wasn’t quite as alone as I’d imagined.

They told me the trip would take half a day, and I settled down for the ride. Our conversation was about everything but what was important. I didn’t volunteer information about my mission, and they didn’t ask. Still, it was nice to have company, and I wouldn’t have to murder them after, so there was that.

                                                                                             Excerpt from the journal of the Emissary

 

Third Day of Striving 1142

Queen Treya, held by Gallen Burke’s amazing power, sat silently, staring. She wouldn’t have moved even if she could. She’d been captivated by the tale of the young soldier being thrown into danger that no one could have predicted or prepared for.

“I’m sorry,” she said, eyes moist as if she wanted to cry, but the force that held her wouldn’t allow it.

“For what?”

“You should never have been placed in that position.”

Gallen sat up straighter in the chair, eyes widened in protest. “No, that’s not the point. I understand why I was selected to lead the expedition into Xarinos. I have no complaint over how King Terrence treated me.”

“Then you’re better than I am, because it would have bothered me. What happened next?”

“The next time I opened my eyes, I was elsewhere. I had died and come back. I didn’t feel any different. I was lying on a cot in the middle of what looked like a garden. But that garden, as lush and beautiful as it was, was the only life I could see in any direction. Instinctively, I knew I was in the heart of Zarinos.

“The others had been waiting for me. Everyone on my team was there. I was so stunned by my rebirth, I hadn’t even noticed them sitting nearby. They hadn’t said anything. They were waiting for me to come to my senses.

“Tylex was there too. Eventually, he was the one who broke the silence. I learned a few things from him. He told me Sato would have gotten away, except he made the unfortunate decision of coming back for me. He said that I wouldn’t be forced to spy on Twyl for the Undead King, that all reborn (as he called the undead) had free will. And finally, he told me one last thing I had never suspected.

“He said the powers behind Xarinos hated seeing people hurt. That they healed the dead and brought them back because they didn’t want to see anyone die.

“Unconvinced, I brought up what had happened in Death’s Doorstep.”

Gallen Burke looked up. Queen Treya was watching him. He could tell she had a question, so he stopped speaking.

“This story that Tylex told you about humans being the instigators of the war…is it true?”

“It is, your highness. The reborn were defending themselves.”

“Then this entire war is unjust and should be stopped. Except the gods themselves declared it. Why do you suppose they would m?”

Gallen shrugged. “Are you asking me to think like a god?”

“No, I’m asking you to speculate.”

“I have no idea. But I have to trust someone, and the Undead King is all I have—and he asked me to kill you.”

“But why? I’m no threat to him.”

“How do you know? Can you see the future so clearly?”

“No. No one can.”

“There are forces at play here no mortal understands. The future is sculpted by such forces. I am not wise enough to gainsay power, and so when the Undead King…my king…says that I need to kill you, then that is precisely what I need to do. For all these years, I have been loyal to you and to King Terrence, but that was before the gods declared war on Xarinos—on my people. Now, I am forced to choose between my loyalty to the throne of Twyl and my loyalty to the Undead King. I have never had to make that choice before.”

“But you have chosen.”

“I have, your highness. As much as I hate it and as much as it pains me, I have a duty to my people. We didn’t start the first war, and we didn’t start this one. But if your death is what is required to save my people, then what choice do I have?”

There was sadness, perhaps sympathy in Queen Treya’s eyes, but she couldn’t allow herself to be killed. Not without fighting. She had to keep him talking while she figured a way out of this.

“Have you never betrayed our trust in all the years since the war?”

While he answered, she reached within, summoning what will she had. She had been practicing repairing souls, which required focus and determination. It required an internal strength she could not name but knew intimately. It was there in the center of her being, energy from her soul and perhaps beyond. She tapped it now and allowed it to flow into her in a way she’d never allowed before. She could feel it, first pooling, then flooding within. So much power as if it had been waiting only for permission before entering her. The sensation so consumed her, Treya barely heard Gallen’s answer.

“Never, your highness. I have been faithful to both King Terrence and you. I’d never have betrayed you at all if I didn’t feel it was necessary. But we have spoken too long, and our time, I fear, is at an end. I know you won’t forgive me this tresspass, and I grieve that fact, but I must do this.”

He rose from the chair and drew his blade.

“You will feel no pain.”

She wished she could drop her head to hide her expression. He drew closer. Closer. When he was just a couple of steps away, she lashed out with her foot and caught him in the stomach. He doubled over, stunned. Treya jumped back and grabbed a sword from the wall. It was a heavier blade than she preferred, two-handed, double-bladed with a thick crosspiece to protect her grip, but it was the only weapon she could reach. The force trying to hold her in place was still present in her mind, but her new-found power kept it at bay. She struck a defensive pose and focused on the battle to come.

Slack-jawed, Gallen lowered his blade. “How? This is impossible.”

“As old man Marko once said, impossible is a word that is virtually always misused. Possibility is endless…impossibility extremely rare.”

“I didn’t come here to discuss philosophy.”

“No, you came here to kill me and thought it would be easy. I have no intention of going down without a fight.”

“Good,” said Gallen. “In many ways, this is better for me.”

He stood up straight and bowed. Treya didn’t bother responding. This wasn’t a contest she had chosen. This man had come to end her life—and had tried to do it in the least honorable way possible.

The thought angered her, but she reigned the feeling in. Terrence would have charged into battle, but she refused to let her baser emotions rule her. Test him, draw him out, see his strengths and weaknesses then strike. That was when she was at her strongest.

He came at her, almost casually. He cut at her once, twice, observing her movements and how she parried. None of the attacks were a threat, so she allowed herself to block them with exaggerated concentration. Let him think her less talented than she was. Many men tended to underestimate women in combat, often to their detriment.

He increased the pace of his attack, displaying neither fear nor urgency, as if he had all the time in the world. It was probably true. Who would disturb them here? If he did manage to kill her, how long before anyone even found her body?

She parried again and again but didn’t press an attack of her own. She bemoaned the fact that her two-handed sword wasn’t ideal for quick strikes or close-quarters combat, but she had no way to get to another weapon.

He kept up his relaxed advance, while she fought a completely defensive battle. Then, without warning, he swapped hands and reversed his attack. It was an excellent move, making her focus on one type of attack and changing it suddenly. But Treya wasn’t new to the blade by anyone’s standards, and she met his attempt with a parry, followed by an attack he didn’t expect. She released the sword hilt with one hand and punched him hard in the face. Most people would have been stunned by such a strike, she was Level 13 after all, but Gallen just smiled at her. He did raise his right hand to rub his jaw, but that was it. He looked impressed at least.

She held the two-handed sword in her left hand now and fought with it as if it were made for one-hand. Neither of them had used a skill yet, but she knew that would change soon.

One advantage she thought she had was the number of skills to which she had access. He’d been relatively young when he was killed, and reborn are severed from their gods. They were stronger and faster than lower-level opponents, but she should be at least equal to him on that front, and she’d been gaining skills for longer.

“I can practically feel you thinking,” said Gallen. “I’m surprised you haven’t used a skill yet.”

“Why would I use one now, when I know you’re expect…”

She summoned a throwing knife, which appeared in her right hand. She threw it, aiming for the shoulder of his sword arm, but he was quick enough to knock it away. Without wasting a moment, she used her blur skill, knowing he would attack off the back of that.

The spatial distortion caused his thrust to miss her. She used Quick Block, expecting another attack, but instead Gallen backed away and the skill was wasted. She frowned.

“I’m sorry, did I make you waste a cool down?”

“Something like that. Don’t you have any skills of your own?”

“Low level skills, really. My other talents are more useful, I find.”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what they are?”

Gallen laughed. “sure. As soon as you tell me one of yours.”

“Agreed. Soul Salve is one of my skills.”

“Oh, tricky. Still a deal is a deal. I have Frenetic Defense.”

“That’s a useful skill.”

“It is, though you’ll note it didn’t save my life in the end.”

Treya shifted her eyes to study the area without moving her neck. The sofa separated them from the rest of the room. Past that was a small, oblong low table and two large comfortable chairs. Around the room hung various weapons she’d used over the years. The blade she wanted was almost directly opposite her.

“Are you sure we can’t talk about this?” she asked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Gallen chuckled. “Hurt me? I’m trying to kill you, your highness.”

“I know. But it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“I wish I could trust you. I really do. But I can’t. There’s no point in putting it off longer. It’s time.”

Finally done talking, he attacked. No longer testing, he struck both suddenly and ferociously. The combination drove her backwards, though there wasn’t that much further back she could retreat.

His blade pierced her left shoulder. Treya winced as it entered, sliding all the way through. He pulled it back. She transferred the sword back to her right hand.

“First blood. Do you want to yield? I promise, I will make it fast.”

“No.”

“Queen Treya, please. I don’t want to draw this out.”

“I wouldn’t either. You can still lose.”

Skepticism loomed on his face. “You can’t beat me.”

“I can try.”

With those words, she used Amazing Strength, reached for the end of the sofa and swung it toward him.

Gallen, surprised at the move, lifted his sword arm to block, but of course, he couldn’t block a sofa. But the move wasn’t meant to injure him, so much as slow him down. Treya cast a second skill, Charge, which increased her movement speed, if only briefly. But she didn’t need much time. She dropped the longer blade and grabbed a sword off the wall where it hung. A gladius, smaller, faster, lighter, it felt amazing in her hand. Comfortable, as if she had been reunited with an old friend, she swung the sword back and forth and settled into an attack stance. She smiled in spite of the situation.

Gallen had pushed the sofa away, admiration clear in his eyes. “Very nice.”

“Glad you approve.”

She backed away.

“You know, that wound is bleeding. Making you weaker. I don’t have to win…I just have to wait. You really should give up.”

He advanced slowly, while she continued her slow retreat. If nothing else, her move had made him more cautious.

“I don’t think so.”

“I can see the blood soaking your gown from here.”

“Yes, but I know something you don’t.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

She pulled open the drawer in the table beside her and reached inside. She could see that Gallen had started to close the distance but ended up changing his mind. He didn’t know what she was reaching for.

She used her thumb to uncork the vial while it was still out of sight in the drawer, then brought it to her lips and drank. The wound on her shoulder closed, and she felt energy course through her.

“Oh, nicely played. But it only prolongs this encounter. We’re back where we started.”

Treya forced herself to smile. “That remains to be seen. I really don’t want to fight you. I feel like we could work this out. You don’t hate me. You’re not angry with me.”

“That’s true. I love you and King Terrence. But I don’t know enough to go against the Undead King.”

Treya nodded, expecting the answer. “Tell me, why is he called the Undead King, if you call yourself reborn?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

Treya had been moving slowly, circling, positioning herself. Gallen tracked her, aware she was up to something. He didn’t seem particularly perturbed. Treya just wanted a more open area to engage in. She felt that the now repositioned sofa, the table and the two large chairs would be a hindrance to her style—or at least that they would favor Gallen more than her.

Now that she was where she wanted to be, she struck an en garde position and waited for his approach. While she’d been bleeding, time was on his side. Now, time was on hers. The chances of someone interrupting them and sounding the alarm increased as time passed. It still wasn’t likely, but it was more likely each second that passed. If she couldn’t beat him, perhaps she could stall him.

He closed the distance in a single leap and slashed at her. He was fast—so fast. But she was able to parry his attack, at least this time. His assault was relentless, and it was all she could do to keep his blade from her. He gave her no time to mount an offensive. In truth, she’d never seen a guard move this fast…and he wasn’t using a skill. This was his natural ability.

In the end, that would be her downfall. All of her skills had cool downs. If he could keep this up, how could she ever hope to win?

She used defensive skills off cool down, using the momentary advantage to attempt her own attacks, but he was simply too fast. Everywhere her blade moved, Gallen’s was there to meet it. How was that possible?

She did get in one lucky shot, a slash across his chest. It wasn’t deep but had to burn. Gallen, on the other hand, kept nicking her. He seemed to use his trickiest moves right after she’d burned her defensive skills. He had no tells, so there was no point in holding back skills waiting for the right moment. She had to do something. She was already feeling tired—which shouldn’t have happened since she had a passive endurance skill. Perhaps the extra effort of mentally keeping his paralysis ability at bay was draining her energy faster than she was used to.

As the fight progressed, she realized it was only a matter of time. Whenever her defensive skills went on cooldown, Gallen managed to nick something else—her left leg, right forearm, left shoulder. Gentle cuts this time, allowing the hopelessness of her situation to demoralize her. He was so calm, so calculated, so precise. Were all undead like this? If so, how could Terrence ever hope to win a war against them? 

Eventually, fatigue and blood loss caught up with her again. Gallen chose this moment to press his attack, backing her into a corner. She felt her back touch the wall. There was nowhere left to run.

“No!”

She cast Amazing Strength and Double Strike, followed quickly by Block, Disarm, Disembowel, Defend and finally Cleave. She also had passive skills that gave her speed and endurance. Gallen had an answer for every attack.

Finally exhausted, she slid down the wall leaving smears of blood as she descended. She felt weak, dizzy, hopeless. She would die in this room, and there was nothing she could do about it. She let her right hand drop, still holding the gladius but not as tightly. The blade lay across her leg.

“Finish it,” she commanded.

“As you wish.”

Gallen looked miserable but lifted his arm for one final blow.

“Goodbye, my queen. Again, I am so, so sorry.”

He closed his eyes, raised his sword and…Treya saw his lips moving. Was he praying? She had thought that the reborn were severed from their god. Of course, anyone could pray, but she had not expected it of Gallen.

Sheba never heard that prayer, though she was with Queen Treya and could see what she saw. The pain and anguish in the would-be assassin’s face. The hesitation as he held back that final blow. He didn’t want to kill her.

Sheba called out to Se Karn. Brother, share my sight.

He was with her in an instant…the god of death. Sister…

Quickly, is this Queen Treya’s death day?

The pause was no more than a heartbeat, but it felt like eternity to Sheba.

No.

Then you won’t mind if I aid her.

How? You know you can’t interfere? The rules apply even to you.

If she levels, she heals, and I can give her a skill to even the odds.

You ride the line, sister. Bring the others in. I won’t agree to this alone.

Sheba was going to argue, realized who she was speaking with and thought better of it. Io, Mitra, Sarith, share our sight.

They were all there together, the five of them, for the first time in their long history.

Well, this is cozy, said Sarith.

No one responded.

Save her, said Iorana, the urgency in her voice completely out of character.

Only if we all agree, said Se Karn.

How? Even you wouldn’t break the rules so openly, said Sarith.

I will level her and provide her a skill to give her a fighting chance.

Link with me, said Se Karn.

A link between two gods was rare enough. A link between five was unheard of. Yet none of those present demurred, each for their own reasons.

The five became one.

Now, said Iorana, the single word both a plea and command.

Gallen’s sword sliced the air toward Queen Treya’s neck. Sheba sent a pulse of divine energy through Treya’s tether. At first nothing happened. Then she began to glow.

Gallen looked on in amazement as level flare began and the wound on her neck closed behind his slice. Stunned, he took a backward step. Even a reborn wouldn’t go directly against the gods. Only once had he seen a level flare so bright— in the throne room after King Terrence had become Sheba’s voice. He didn’t know what to do—so he did nothing.

Treya, head thrown back in pain or ecstasy, transformed before his eyes. This was more than just leveling. This was something else. He took another step backward as if he thought she might explode with so much divine power pervading her. Then she opened her eyes and slowly climbed to her feet.

Congratulations. You have reached Level 14. New skill unlocked Equilibrium. This skill has several components, most of which have nothing to do with me.

She knew Sheba’s voice intimately, but nothing could have prepared her for what came next.

New Equilibrium feature unlocked, Get out of jail free. It was Mitra’s voice. How was that possible?

Really? said Sheba. Monopoly?

It’s a good game, said Mitra.

New Equilibrium feature unlocked, Painkiller. This is a passive skill. Was that Iorana?

New Equilibrium feature unlocked, Retaliation. Treya had only heard Sarith’s voice once but could never forget it.

New Equilibrium feature unlocked, Resist Death. Note, this feature expires on your death day. Though Treya had never heard his voice, it wasn’t hard to work out that Se Karn had helped with her leveling.

I don’t understand, thought Treya. 

You are not alone, said Sheba in her mind. We are, all of us, in uncharted territory. 

This may come back to haunt us, said Mitra. In a very real sense, we’re challenging the compact.

Who would dare challenge all of us? asked Sarith.

Sylinar, if she finds out, and she will, replied Mitra.

If she calls us on this, we’ll answer, said Sarith, but consider this. Can she stand up to the five of us on her own? Would she dare?

I, for one, would not like to test her, said Mitra. None of us have any real idea what she’s capable of.

There was a silent agreement that they all felt. The five disengaged, becoming separate entities again, though Sheba noted, there was something about being linked to her brother and sisters that felt…inevitable.

*

The streets of the city of Rish had not changed. The temple district hosted a handful of worshipers and priests going about their business. It seemed a quiet day to Ambassador Rhea. Perhaps it was just the time of day. She’d never been here in the early afternoon.

Yet to her, everything looked different. From her vantage she could see fifteen, perhaps twenty people, all appropriately dressed, all walking casually. Nothing to indicate anything out of the ordinary was going on, yet any one of them could be a reborn spy. Any one of them could be working for the Undead King. The thought made her ill.

None of her companions spoke, partly because they were digesting what they had just learned and partly because they had been instructed not to talk about it outside of a secure Temple.

She glanced at her companions. Jerish was alert. At first, she thought he was looking around as she had, trying to see if he could find a hint of something out of place that might indicate that one of the passersby was a spy. But no, Jerish always looked around like that. Always aware of his surroundings. Could he be an undead spy? No, that made no sense. High Priest Karr had invited him to listen in.

Lord Ormund was there, though he seemed less concerned by the news than the others. She wondered why.

Angel Morrow seemed more concerned with her and Ormund than the people they were passing. We’re his patients, she realized, which made her uncomfortable. Jerish was bad enough; she didn’t need anyone else taking care of her.

The guards had been spared the shock of learning that everything they thought they knew was not quite true, and so they acted normally, chatting quietly amongst each other. They’d likely have been louder, but being in the temple district had a quieting effect on most people. The guards were no exception.

When they finally reached the palace, she immediately made her way to the throne room. The entire entourage remained together, for reasons she couldn’t imagine. Perhaps Ormund was still controlled by her mother who wanted to be with her and the physician was staying to keep an eye on him. The guards and Jerish were going to follow as well. Thus it was a rather large group that entered the empty throne room. She stopped, disappointed that Queen Treya wasn’t there. While she was trying to figure out what to do next, a familiar voice spoke.

“Ambassador Rhea,” said Lady Mere. She didn’t say anything else until she’d closed the distance between them. Rhea turned and waited.

“Lady Mere, a pleasure, as always.”

“If you’re looking for Queen Treya, she’s decided to work from her chambers today.”

“Ah, well I won’t disturb her then.”

“Begging your pardon, your highness, but I don’t see why not. You’re the high king’s ambassador. I have no doubt that the Queen would welcome your visit. Also, it would give me an excuse to check on her, if you wouldn’t mind me tagging along.”

“Is everything all right?”

“The Queen has been under an extraordinary amount of stress. You weren’t here when King Terrence rode off to war the first time, but she wasn’t herself, so I’m a bit concerned. She could really use a friend.”

“I see,” said Rhea. Not quite what she was expecting, but she needed to find out how she could be useful. She’d had enough sitting in her room feeling sorry for herself. She had a role in this war and needed to start acting like a responsible adult. The world didn’t have time for sulking.

“Let’s go then. I have matters I wish to discuss with her.”

“This way,” said Lady Mere, though Rhea knew the way to Treya’s private chambers.

They chatted while they walked, though the subject matter was mundane. Rhea answered automatically without quite losing the surreal sense that the world around her had changed significantly by all she had learned. She needed time to absorb the new information, but it could wait until she’d had her chat with Treya.

They had almost made it all the way to the queen’s chambers, when they heard the sound of steel on steel.

Lord Ormund started running down the corridor. “Quickly, the Queen is in danger.”

Rhea tried to follow and translate at the same time. She caught up with him outside the door. The sounds of fighting came from inside.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“I think I’ve always known. It happens every time. Gallen Burke is attempting to assassinate the queen.”

Everyone began talking at once, but Ormund ignored them. He closed his eyes, raised his hands before him, palms outward, and moved his hands forward, stopping before he touched the door. What happened next stunned Rhea.

The doors exploded inward, shattering into a thousand splinters. He hadn’t uttered a word, never touched the door, but they were suddenly gone.

She moved to enter, but he barred the way and looked instead at Jerish. Rhea translated his next words.

“This is one of the two things you were born to do. You believe you know what the other is, but you would be wrong.”

Jerish nodded curtly and leapt into the room.