Ren of Atikala Page 38

  “GOOD EVENING.”

  I WALKED UP to the first creature I could see, my hands comfortably resting by my sides, my rapier sheathed, and my shield on my back. It was a creature approximately my height, with short hair and clad in thick clothes to ward away the cold. To me the air was pleasantly cool, but they appeared to feel differently.

  It stared at me, open mouthed and shocked, then began babbling excitedly in a strange language. It wasn’t feytongue; it was too low pitched and hard for that, and I found it strangely appealing.

  “I am Ren of Atikala. I was hoping you could direct me to Ssarsdale?”

  The creature babbled some more, then cautiously approached. A male, with broad shoulders and a rugged appearance.

  “Ssarsdale,” I said again.

  “Ssarsdale?” His pronunciation was horrible. He pointed at me.

  I nodded eagerly. “Yes, I need to go to Ssarsdale. What is this place?”

  “Ferokhan!”

  I had never heard of such a place. They had a vague similarity to a gnome, but I didn’t let that resemblance taint my impression of them. I called over my shoulder.

  “It’s quite all right, Khavi, come out and meet our new friend!”

  I could see Khavi crouched behind one of the Worldbones, but he didn’t approach. I turned my attention back to the strange creature.

  “Anyway. We would like some food, some supplies, and quarters for the evening.”

  “Ssarsdale!” The creature pointed at me, crying out in excitement. “Ssarsdale!”

  I twisted and looked over my shoulder. I swore he was pointing at me, but was he trying to point behind me? Had we come the wrong way?

  The door to one of the houses opened. Another creature, similar to the one near me, stepped out. This one was much bigger and seemed like it fit the house; its skin was much thicker and more leathery, its hands thick and rough. This one too was male, and it had a sword strapped to its belt. The blade was longer than I was.

  I realised that the first creature I had met was a child. The newcomer was an adult of their kind.

  “Greetings,” I said to the adult, bowing low. “I am Ren of Atikala.”

  The man shouted something. The child, suddenly fearful, backed away, and then ran for him, looking over his shoulders. The adult drew his blade.

  “Wait,” I said, “I’m not here to hurt you!”

  The child cowered behind the man’s legs. He held his ground, shouting over and over, loud cries of alarm. More creatures threw open the doors of their houses, some carrying longer weapons. Spears. Crossbows.

  They looked at me with hatred and fear.

  “I just want directions to Ssarsdale,” I said. “Nothing more! I’m not here to hurt you!”

  Over a dozen of their kind approached, spears and giant swords held before them, their weapons levelled on me. They shouted words of command in their strange language.

  I looked over my shoulder to Khavi and saw him retreating away, his head vanishing behind the Worldbone. Khavi could not help me, nor should he.

  I raised my hands above my head.

  The creatures took my weapons, shield, and haversack then bound my claws with a strange device, two metal bracelets connected by a short thick chain. It didn’t fit and was loose around my wrists even on the tightest application, but was still remarkably uncomfortable; the metal chafed and scratched my scales.

  They were not gentle with me, dragging me through the centre of their town. There appeared to be some debate as to what to do with me. Some favoured killing me right away. They had their weapons in hand, ready to do the deed, but there were some who opposed them for reasons I could not understand.

  Eventually they led me to a building with open double doors. Bundles of dead moss were inside bound up with string. A food storage location obviously. This was good; it had been some time since I ate, and my belly complained. I had never eaten the strange surface moss before, but it was clear that they were storing it for food.

  The creatures shoved me inside, closing the door. The light returned to a palatable level, the bright illumination from the outside seeping in through the cracks. It was pleasant despite the distinct scent of dung.

  I picked up some of the golden dried moss, placing a few strands in my jaws. It was tasteless and bland, but otherwise went down evenly. I munched on a few handfuls. It was not as rich and flavourful as glowbug meat, but it was what they had given me; I did not want to offend them.

  When I had eaten enough to calm my stomach, I explored the building, turning my thoughts inward.

  Were they humans? It seemed likely. Too tall and too thin for dwarves, too large for gnomes, too short for elves. They did smell vaguely like the armour I used to wear. I was excited by the prospect. I had heard many things about humans. While they were evil, they were a very diverse and flexible species. They were also the most likely to live with other races. I knew that if I could simply explain that I was merely passing through, I would be released.

  At the rear of the building were two corrals. The first was closed by a solid door, but the second was simply a fence. It contained a number of creatures which were similar to the Hopping Grass Eater I had seen before. Four legs, white or grey, with most of them covered in a thick layer of fluffy white hair. They had black or white heads. Unlike the ears of the Hopping Grass Eater, some of these creatures had curled or straight horns.

  “Hello,” I said, but they did not react at all. These were merely animals too.

  The metal bindings on my arms rattled as I gave one of the animals an experimental sniff. It smelled of the outside, rich and pungent, but otherwise it did not react to my presence at all. I reached through and touched one; it was soft and warm, and seemed to accept my touch without question. That pleased me. I imagined these creatures to be like the monsters outside, accepting of me, placid once they had got to know me.

  I walked over to the other corral. It was closed, a heavy beam blocking off the wall. Something moved around inside, however, and I decided to investigate. I stood on the tip of my toes and pushed the heavy beam off the door. It crashed near me, and inside I heard the strangest sound. Startled, angry, high in pitch, and then dropping back down. It sounded like a large beast indeed.

  I pulled the door open and saw the strangest creature I’d yet laid eyes upon.

  It was black and had four legs, similar to the fluffy creatures, but its skin was covered in a thin layer of hair so fine as to be almost invisible. Each leg was muscled, implying impossible strength, and each ended in a lump of stone. It snorted at me, tossing its head, the hair on its neck flying around.

  It turned, giving me a look at its strange backside, and then it kicked.

  The lump of stone slammed into my shoulder with enough force to send me flying out of the doorway, crashing to the stone floor and rolling over several times. I groaned, clutching my shoulder. Nothing was broken, but my scales were swollen, and the flesh underneath had been bruised.

  That door had been closed for a reason. It held a monster.

  I pushed the heavy door closed with my foot and fumbled for the beam; it was bigger than I could reasonably lift, but fear gave me strength. I managed to slide it back in the locking bars.

  My muscles hurt, and I gave them a moment to rest as I slumped against the wall. I considered the fluffy, docile creatures nearby. Were they pets and this larger black one a monster? It seemed likely.

  “Beast!” I hissed at it.

  The front doors of the building creaked open. I stood, moving away from the animals and back towards the food storage area.

  Ten of the creatures I presumed to be humans stood at the door’s entrance, surrounding a tall one at the centre. It was that one who held my attention.

  She was similar to the humans but taller by almost a foot, her yellow hair long and spilling down her shoulders. She was dressed differently too, in graceful flowing green robes that hovered just above the dirt of the floor. Her form was completely alien to me, but she h
ad an unearthly beauty to her.

  Her long pointed ears betrayed her elven heritage. She stared at me with eyes that were a sapphire blue.

  “I am Melicandra the Binder. You are Ssarsdale, are you not?” she spoke, her draconic accented but clear.

  I shuffled nervously. I did not know what to think of this imposing elf. “I am not. Ssarsdale is the name of my destination, a city below the ground. My name is Ren.”

  Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I can only assume you speak of the Shallow City. Why did you enter the village? You risk exposing your kind to retribution. The common folk fear and distrust you.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. Did Ssarsdale have contact with this village? “I was only seeking shelter for the night before travelling on.”

  My response surprised the elf. “You are not from the Shallow City, here to bring us tribute?”

  “No. I am originally from Atikala, a city of my people further below the ground, but it has been destroyed. I seek my people.”

  “Atikala? You must mean the Deep City. It was destroyed by the falling star? It fell that far down?”

  I hesitated, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t know anything about a falling star, but if the Deep City is what you call Atikala, then it is truly gone. The ceiling of the underworld fell in and crushed it.”

  A voice, deep and alien, spoke. It was nearby, on the other side of the door. “The kobold is lying.”

  “Who’s that?” I asked, craning my neck to see.

  Melicandra studied me, her expression flat and emotionless. “I will show you. Do not be alarmed. Come, Quennax.”

  A creature slithered into view, a snakelike beast with four arms that ended in wicked claws, a tail that ended in a stinger, and a thick horn growing from the centre of its bestial head. It had two long bat wings tucked in close to its body and a glowing arcane mark I recognised instantly.

  It was an eidolon, a creature spun from energy stolen from the far realms, stitched together by the power of the summoner and eternally bound to serve them. Its form was fluid, changeable with a ritual to reshape its body to take whatever form its master wished. They were intelligent and could speak, but an eidolon was only a shade of a living creature. Even death could not stop them as they could be re-summoned from the darkness between worlds within a day.

  I had seen one of its kind before. The kobold who had summoned it was considered aberrant and had been killed. Its powerful monster, however, had killed half a dozen warriors before its master was slain, the creature disappearing with the death of its master.

  Quennax regarded me with unnatural eyes. “Gold scales?”

  “Yes,” said Melicandra, “I was thinking the same thing.” She turned to me. “Did Contremulus send you?”

  I searched my memory. Contremulus. The name was draconic in origin. “Who is that?”

  “If you do not know who Contremulus is, then the answer is no.”

  “May I eat it?” asked Quennax. He looked me over with hungry eyes.

  “No. The kobold may be of use to us yet.”

  “As you wish, mistress.”

  “Thank you,” I said to her.

  “Do not thank me yet, goldenscale. Your kind are uncommon in this area, but trouble always follow in your wake. We must be cautious.”

  “I understand. Forgive me, but you are an elf, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your companions are humans?”

  “Yes. Excluding Quennax, of course.”

  “Of course.” I cupped my hands in front of me. “I don’t know what to tell you, but I am not like the others of my kind. Ever since the city’s destruction, I have been forced to see…things. Creatures both good and wicked. I can only tell you truly that your people and mine are very different, but I bear you no ill will. I wish only to travel to Ssarsdale and let my kin know what has happened to their cousins.”

  Melicandra ever so slowly folded her delicate arms in front of her. “I am afraid that I cannot permit this to happen. Your kind cause endless troubles for us and our relationship is tenuous at best. The gnomes of Stonehaven, our allies beneath the ground, speak poorly of you.”

  “Stonehaven is gone.”

  She looked at me, her expression unchanged.

  “I saw it myself,” I said. “Stonehaven fell upon Atikala. The hole descends through both cities.”

  “That is unlikely,” said Quennax. “Miles of stone exist between the two settlements.”

  “I saw it with my own eyes,” I insisted. “I would not be here if it wasn’t gone.”

  “And why is that?”

  The truth bubbled up to my lips. Because Khavi and I would have thrown ourselves at them, killing as many gnomes as we could. But I caught myself in time.

  “With Atikala gone we dared to approach the gnomes.”

  “Odd that you would choose to do this. What did you hope to gain?”

  I could not think of an answer swiftly enough.

  “It is lying again,” said Quennax. “May I eat it now?”

  Melicandra said something in what I presumed to be her own language, a flowing speech that seemed similar to the fey tongue but some of the unpleasant squeaking was replaced with a beautiful cadence. Was every language except the gnomish one so beautiful?

  Her eidolon retorted, but after a brief exchange fell silent. Melicandra turned to me once again.

  “I apologise for Quennax’s rudeness.”

  “It is no matter,” I said. “I understand completely.”

  Melicandra paused. “Your motives for discussing the destruction of Stonehaven are irrelevant. I have one question regarding your story, however.”

  “Yes?”

  She locked her gaze onto mine. I sensed that of all her questions, this was the most important of them all.

  “Who are we?”

  I knew that to mention Khavi’s presence would probably doom him. “I was travelling with two other kobolds. Jedra and Faala. They did not survive the journey to the surface.”

  “It is lying again,” said Quennax.

  Melicandra ignored her eidolon. “Do you have any proof of this?”

  “Yes. Not far from where I emerged from the surface, there is a tunnel to the underworld. I can show you if you have a map. You will find two graves not far in, freshly dug. Those are the bodies of my companions.”

  Melicandra nodded to Quennax. “That should be simple enough to check. Make certain it is done.” Her fingertips lit as she evoked a spell, briefly bathing the area in enough light to make me squint.

  Quennax hissed in disgust, then slithered away and stretched out his wings. The snake creature leapt into the air and was gone.

  “I apologise for his manner,” said Melicandra.

  I looked at the ground. “I apologise that I know enough about eidolons to know that they follow their master’s orders without question and would not act against their wishes unless explicitly instructed to do so.”

  “My, my,” she said, the faintest hint of a smile crossing her lips. “You are smart for a kobold.”

  “Thank you. You are smart for an elf.”

  Her smile widened. She said something in the human tongue to the guards, and they all seemed to relax. Most of them turned and left, leaving two.

  “So where are you really from?”

  “Atikala,” I said. “Truly. The city is gone.”

  Her posture deflated. “I had hoped that the damage was not that deep, but this is alarming news if true. If it fell that deep, then we have worries beyond the comprehension of most. For what it’s worth, I am saddened by this news. I have no love for kobolds, but such a large scale loss of sentient life cannot be anything other than tragic.”

  I didn’t really know what to say to that. If Atikala had received word that all our enemies had died at once the celebrations would likely never end. “Thank you.” I inclined my head. “What’s this about a falling star?”

  “A moon ago a piece of the sky fell near here. Hotter t
han any fire, heavier than any iron, red as blood. It poisoned the land with a red mist, drowning all that it touched. It broke through the ground and left a gaping wound in Drathari’s flesh. Many have come to examine it from lands both close and far away, including gnomes and dwarves from Undergate with scrolls of earth shaping.”

  “I don’t recall seeing a piece of the sky in the debris, but I did not stop to examine the rubble at length. There was a lot of it.”

  She nodded. “Understandable. The fragment would be tiny and not dissimilar to any other stone, save for the glow of its heat and its weight. I expect that it will never be recovered.” I wasn’t sure, but I swore I saw a flicker of some kind of emotion flash on her face. “Others will disagree.”

  “Others such as Contremulus?”

  Melicandra nodded.

  “Who is he?”

  She paused, looking at me with a complex, saddened look on her face.

  “I hope you never have to find out.”