The Mark of Kain
by Mark Latus
Part 3 : Ghosts of the Past
The silence stretched as Fleura's mind tried to convince her she had
misinterpreted Koram's declaration. She shook her head as though that would
dislodge the words and managed to ask, "You're a what?"
Somewhat less enthusastically he repeated, "I'm a sorcerer killer."
"Excuse me?"
"I hunt and kill sorcerers."
"WHAT?!"
"I don't see how I can make it any clearer. I find sorcerers and I
kill them."
Fleura tried to gather her scattered wits. Fragments of stories she had
heard on her travels came back to her. Tales the commoners told in whispers
about avengers who challenged sorcerors yet fared better than those in the
stories sorcerors told. Stories she would never have heard if she walked
among the commoners with her birthmark uncovered. But in those far-away lands
where her face was unknown she had walked about freely and heard many things
no one would say to a sorcerer's face. But an attractive woman travelling on
her own was another matter for no one expected a sorcerer to arrive and depart
quietly. Why should they? Everywhere sorcerers went they ruled and revelled
in it. Why did they need subtefuge?
Admittedly there were a few towns and villages where they knew different.
Places where children had been saved from runaway horses or other fatal
accidents prevented by miraculous intervention. Still those instances were
more likely attributed to divine intervention as everyone knew sorcerors would
not sully themselves by saving commoners. Indeed on her most recent trip she
had heard a grossly exaggerated tale about one of her exploits attributed to
an angel that walked the earth. A few more saves and the Walking Lady would
merge with other folktales to become a fullblown legend spreading from one
coast to the other. No, no tales of incognito sorceress' would emerge from
helping people. Tales of that would emerge from the inns, taverns and
alleyways where predators had decided she was prey. Then learned the hard way
that a woman alone who didn't look like one of those fabled (but truthfully
rare) swordswomen wasn't helpless. Sadly in tales like that she was doubtless
cast as the villain when she had merely defended herself. With sleep spells
requiring time to weave while deathmagic was both quick, simple and
instinctive it wasn't wise to surprise a sorcerer.
But most of her travels had passed without exposure by either charity or
violence so there had been plenty of chances to hear tales. Among which
tales of vengeance upon sorcerors was a favourite topic. There had always
been stories like those, if the oppressed don't have a hero then they invented
ones. Oh, there had been a few real avengers over the centuries but they
didn't tend to last long. While courage, determination and fighting spirit
were all very well they tended to take second place to magical firepower.
Swordsmen who took on sorcerors had a tendency to become martyrs very quickly.
The longest lived ones used stealth, ambush and poisons which didn't make for
good legends. Especially since the normal way for sorcerers to deal with
assassins was to burn down villages until fearstruck people turned on their
would-be saviours.
Of late though things had been different. The War had taken its toll
on everyone. Once again the final battle of Order and Chaos had ended in a
stalemate. The avatars were destroyed, the gods' wills once again heard
solely through their priests (who were glad to be no longer redundant for who
needs priests when the gods personally tell laymen what to do?), the battered
world endured and the survivors had gone home. Though more than a decade had
passed since the Apocalypse petered out the effects were still felt. The
divisions amongst the sorcerers were legion. Though to the commoners one
sorcerer was the same as any other (or rather as bad as any other) they had
their own views. Chaos, Order, or the Grey Faction ... all the sorcerers had
picked a side. Ironic that the self proclaimed neutrals had been the victors
so once again neither Chaos nor Order had claimed the world. Which meant yet
another war someday but at least humanity had a few millennia of breathing
space.
While the war had ended the world still reeled from its aftereffects.
Not only from the massive death and destruction that had been inflicted by
all sides but from the divisions left behind. The commoners had it simple,
they were on whichever side their ruler chose. The sorcerers were another
matter, no one ruled them and there was never consensus amongst them over who
to back. So each had chosen for him or herself which side they were on then
waged bloody warfare on one another. After the war there were far fewer
sorcerers, many of them grown crueler, twisted and more tyrannical after their
experiences. For many to simply lord over commoners was no longer enough, it
was as if they had to take out there rage and bitterness on someone.
Murderous sadism became all too commonplace, Fleura had heard tales that made
her blood run cold. Stories of macabre collections, sickening tributes,
slaughters of innocents and none of them exaggerated. If anything many
understated the grisly truths. For all the commoners feared sorcerers their
own anger was reaching a boiling point, how long before it was a far greater
force than fear? Oh, it wasn't happening everywhere but all across the land
there were powderkegs nearing explosion but the sorcerers didn't see it, if
anything they shortened the fuses. The times were ripe for revolution against
the sorcerers, it was inevitable new heroes would emerge to challenge them.
Several had and with the sorcerers divided, shunning those who had fought on
opposing sides, there was no unified effort to hunt them down. Many
sorcerers would not lift a finger if they heard one who had been their enemy
just a few years earlier had been killed. Shortsightedly they might even
toast the killers for taking vengeance for them. It was the best time to
declare a personal war on the sorcerers, plenty of commoners willing to aid
you and few sorcerers willing to avenge their fallen fellows. Except ...
"You're a sorcerer killer? You? That's ... "
"Hypocritical?"
"I was going to say crazy! Why don't you just paint a big target on
yourself? You got to know everyone who's ever tried that died young,
usually messily in a great deal of agony!"
Koram sighed, why did she have to be concerned for his welfare? If
she'd cursed him as a traitor this would be so much easier . He could feel
resolve flowing away and tried to steel himself again. His oath was merciless
and uncompromising. Duty was harsh and needed sacrifce, of which this would
be the greatest. Sometimes there were no alternatives, no choice, no options.
No way to avoid what must be.
"This is some sort of half baked atonement idea, isn't it?" Fleura's
voice cut through the haze of predestination. Her tone was softer, anger
replaced by the need to understand. She continued, "You weren't talking
hypothetically, were you?"
"No, I've killed quite a few sorcerers over the past few years."
She nodded, "Well there's no shortage of those who deserve it." An
ugly thought struck, "That is who you're talking about, right?" She was
relieved to see him nod.
"Monsters make very obvious targets. The only ones who would mourn
their passing are others of their ilk. I have yet to kill one whose death I'd
regret."
That was the answer she had wanted to hear and yet she felt a pang.
Something wasn't right. She tried to discount the feeling, obviously
something wasn't right. Koram, Kain or whatever other names he used
must have made some powerful enemies. If he continued he was going to
run into someone tougher and die at their hands. Probably not as soon as
he'd like. She had to persuade him to give up his quest, convince him he'd
done enough to make amends. She needed to find the key to doing that ...
hmm there was that spell from the Day'strum lores that might help. In the
meantime more information would help.
"Why did you come back here? It's pretty obvious it wasn't for my
sake."
"I heard there was a Sorceress in these parts, I never dreamed it was
you."
Something cold touched Fleura's spine. "You ... came here to see if the
Sorceress of Corum village needed killing?" What kind of stories were
spreading about her? The villagers didn't fear her, not really. Why would
anyone think her a threat?
"No." Fleura relaxed momentarily. "I don't need an excuse to kill
sorcerers. That is, after all, my purpose in life."
Her mind reeled, he couldn't have meant that the way it sounded.
Desperately grasping at straws she managed, "You intended to kill whoever
you found even if they weren't abusing their power? That's not what you
meant, is it? You were just saying you're committed to destroying all those
who prey on the commoners no matter what it takes?"
"You were right the first time." The grim facade gave way to a rush
of anger. "The strong prey upon the weak, that's just the way it works. The
law of the jungle and the law of sorcerors. You can't make exceptions, those
who are harmless themselves will pass the power onto their children and most
of those children will grow up to become a new generation of monsters. That's
the way it has always been, that's the way it will always be. Generation after
generation it will go on forever. Unless the sorcerer bloodlines are severed
there will never be peace!" The outburst ended and he looked resigned. "I am
sorry." With that he held the sword ready in his right hand and advanced
towards her with unnerving silence.
"Koram? Kain? Stop that, you're scaring me! This is a joke, right?
Right? Say something dammit!" He didn't say a word. A single tear tracked
down his cheek but he didn't slow. She couldn't really believe this was
happening but Fleura decided not to wait around to find out if he was
serious and invoked her power intending to put a few miles between them.
The world seemed to go mad and the sorceress dropped in a fit of vertigo
induced shock. Kain wasn't surprised, Stormbringer's influence had disrupted
any hope of transport magics working in their vicinity. For the first time
he wished the sword wasn't quite so effective. He looked down at the huddled
figure who looked near insensible. Kinder this way, she wouldn't see death
coming. Looking down upon the twitching woman Kain very uncharacteristically
uttered a quick prayer for her soul. Something he had never felt tempted to
do before and was perhaps the last delaying tactic. But he had a duty to
perform and duty was uncompromising. He steeled himself and raised the sword
to make a swift end to this.
Stormbringer bit into oaken floorboards as Fleura rolled out of the way
and bounced to her feet. He had underestimated her, just like the old days.
He hadn't expected her to be able to even move after feedback shock like that.
Before he could curse himself for giving her time to recover a bolt of green
light tore towards him. A death spell.
Fleura had acted on instinct, get some distance and fire. The deathbolt
was leaving her fingertips before she remembered who her target was.
Conflicting emotions tore through her ringing head as the emerald glow
surrounded him. Yet she need not have worried, Koram didn't fall, he didn't
even sicken. The glow faded away leaving him none the worse for wear.
Impossible! If he had shielded she would have felt it! It was almost as
if ... as if the magic never touched him. Her eyes shifted to the black
sword, the sword he claimed to have forged himself. What was it he had said?
Swords of this kind were hard to detect so he had to make his own. But what
kind of magic sword couldn't be found with magic? She tried to sense its
power but felt nothing, almost as though the sword didn't exist. At least to
mage sight. Her mouth went dry as the pieces finally fit together and she
whispered, "A Bane Sword."
Surprisingly Koram didn't seize her distraction to attack, just nodded.
"They were more than legend and our ancestors weren't as thorough as they
thought in destroying the secret of their making. With time, determination and
a few people waiting thanks to ancient prophecies I learned how to forge one."
A drastic oversimplification but all he had time for. He had to get this over
with before he lost his nerve. Why was he hesitating? Was he trying to give
her a chance to kill him before he killed her?
Fleura's mind raced, a Bane Sword! A sword that nullified magic! She
had thought them either a legend or a forgotten art. The product of an
earlier age they had supposedly all been either destroyed or lost. She knew
little of them beyond the folktales. Supposedly they had been invented by a
clan of wizard-smiths centuries ago as the ultimate weapon. No commoner smith
could forge one for as the sword was created the metals had to be transformed
by magical arts supposedly long forgotten. Bane swords had been much sought
after by sorcerers looking to settle scores with one another and the smith
clan had grown rich and powerful. Until a disturbing trend emerged, commoners
began getting their hands on Bane Swords. While none could be forged without
a sorcerer they worked equally well in the hands of sorcerer and commoner
alike. Uniting under a common banner for once the sorcerers had destroyed the
wizard-smiths and all the bane swords. Perhaps they missed a few of the
smiths' commoner workers but what did it matter as bane swords couldn't be
forged without a sorcerer's assistance and sorcerers had realised the folly of
creating a weapon that made commoners their equal in battle. There were
legends of bane swords being found over the centuries but all were vague and
all ended in the loss or destruction of the sword. Fleura had never imagined
they were ever real, let alone that she would one day see one. But the one
in Koram's hand looked horribly real and he looked to be nerving himself up to
using it.
There was nothing in those old tales telling her how to escape. Magic
wouldn't work, turning to run would get her a sword in the back and she
couldn't attack. For the first time in her life she wished for skills with
some mundane weapon. If she lived through this night she would be taking
archery or fencing lessons. She almost giggled at the thought and realized
she was skirting the edge of hysteria. This wasn't how she had expected their
reunion to go. Fighting not to lose control she went over her short list of
options; couldn't run, couldn't fight and reason hadn't worked. At least
reason hadn't worked unaided, in desperation she remembered the spell she had
thought of earlier. Since it surrounded rather than impacted directly it
might work. But she needed time to complete it and he might well attack the
moment she cast one. She needed a distraction! Her gaze flicked to the
torches that illuminated the hall. Maybe, just maybe ... Silently praying the
bane sword wouldn't block her she uttered a few syllables and the room
exploded into light.
The torches winked out plunging the hallway into darkness but that didn't
bring Koram's vision back. Cursing silently and trying to blink away spots he
shifted into guard position as he strained to listen for either approaching or
retreating footsteps. He heard neither but by straining he could hear
whispered words. Fleura was trying a spell, betrayed by her instincts. She
just couldn't grasp that magic wouldn't work on him.
His vision cleared enough to make out Fleura holding an energy sphere
between both hands. The rush of words ended and she held it ready. Yet
contrary to all expectations she did not throw it at him. Instead, uttering
the final words of power she slammed the sphere into the floor and felt its
influence surround them. Around Kain and Fleura the hallway vanished as a
vision of what had been overwrote the present.
The boy and the girl both looked about eight years old. Her hair was
cut short and she was dressed much like the boy in pants and a short sleeved
shirt but she was easily recognisable as Fleura. The boy's face lacked
Kain's harshness and the oval mark was prominent on his forehead but
it was definitely him. A breeze rippled the grass around them as the pair
trudged up the gentle slope of a hillside with their burden. The kite bore
the patchwork look of amateur construction but showed no obvious flaws beyond
its size. It was big, a blue and red delta wing shape with a length about
equal to their height. Anyone who knew aerodynamics could have told them that
the lift it would need with its weight was extreme and several servants had
tried to tell them that. But children always get suspicious when adults tell
them something impossible so they had set out to prove them wrong.
They stopped on the summit of the hill under the blue sky. It was
another beautiful summer day. Far away the latest final battle between light
and darkness raged but it didn't touch Corum village or any of its neighbours.
Though the war would rage for another five years it would never touch this
place. In fact the village was prospering, a prosperity aided by the fact
that the sorcerers who ruled over it had departed to join the war leaving
their children to be raised by the servants. Occasionally they would visit
by astral projection to ensure their progeny was safe but they showed little
interest in the children themselves. Not surprisingly this had lead their
offspring to form closer ties with the servants who cared for them than their
distant parents. This would have inevitably meant conflict with their parents
had tragedy not intervened first.
It started innocuously enough, the girl throwing the kite into the air
while the boy charged downhill hauling the string behind him. It always
ended the same way with the kite striking the earth and bouncing. Here its
sturdy construction was an advantage as it didn't bend or tear. Then the boy
would climb back up the hill, refuse the girl's offer to trade places and try
again. At last, breathless and exhausted the boy agreed and the girl took
over and the same pattern repeated itself. From sheer stubbornness the girl
didn't quit until she had tried as many failed runs as the boy. Then she
wearily climbed back one last time and flopped down by her friend.
They lay there a time watching the few clouds drift lazily by. At length
the young Fleura said, "There's just not enough wind today." She was also
wondering if the kite was too big but that would mean the adults were right
and she would rather not admit that even if it were true. Especially if it
was true. She didn't see Koram nod but she heard the agreement in his voice.
"Yeah, we need more than this measly little breeze. A nice strong wind!"
Gloomily Fleura answered, "Probably won't be a decent wind until Fall
and that's months away. Months and months ... maybe we should make some
smaller ... other kites."
"We don't have to wait. I can make wind."
"Koram!"
Mortally embarrassed he stammered, "That's not what I meant! I can do
weather magic ...!" He saw her grin and realized he'd been had. "Why you
...!" A bit of roughhousing followed until both kids got tired of it.
Clothes torn and grass stained they got up to dust themselves off. Koram
looked at the blue sky and wondered if he was biting off more than he could
chew but he wasn't about to back down.
"I meant what I said, I can whip up a decent wind if I want to."
"Really?" Fleura looked impressed and Koram got that smug and cocky
look all boys get when they've succeeded in making girls appreciate them. If
he had ever heard the old adage about pride going before a fall it was
forgotten.
"Of course. Sorcerers can do anything." With that he looked to the
sky again and concentrated. Everything seemed to shift, for an instant all he
saw chaos, then the world reappeared but the sky was full of threads. It was
as though a giant spiderweb had been spun over the world connecting everything
together. He concentrated again and the spiderweb became a rainbow of colour
as individual threads changed colour. Good, now he could find the ones he
needed. At least he hoped so. Weather magic wasn't easy but the trick was
to tug on the right strings and knot the strands you needed together. When
you did that the pattern shifted and you got the weather you wanted. At least
in theory, he had never done anything this big before. Making a black cloud
start raining early was the most he had done so far. But his parents had
instilled in him the idea that a sorcerer could do anything he chose. All it
needed was the will to triumph. In his mind's eye he began tugging on the
green threads, from the way they flowed those must represent the wind. Some
resisted but gave, others slipped out of his grip sending the web shaking
and shifting so he had to grab new threads then frantically knot them
together. Soon he held a messy looking bundle of linked threads, it didn't
quite seem right but it should do the job. Taking a deep breath he pulled
the knot towards him and snapped his sight back to the mundane world.
The first thing he saw was Fleura studying him with some confusion.
Then he saw his hands grasping at something invisible and realized he must
have pantomimed everything he did magically. He made up a quick and somewhat
lame story about having to do "mystic passes" (a phrase he had read somewhere)
and was glad she didn't call him on it. Hoping for the best he waved
dramatically at the rustling grass and waited for the breeze to increase. His
grin began to slip as the wind dropped. It turned into outright dismay when
the breeze stopped blowing.
As the air became still Fleura began to giggle. "Do you practise
spell casting in front of a mirror?" Koram started to scowl then gave a
rueful grin. "It is kinda the opposite of what I said I'd do isn't it?.
Wonder what went wrong?"
"Could you go back and do the same thing backwards?"
"Naw, things shift around so I'd have to do something new." After a
momentary hesitation he added, "'Sides I don't have much magic left, I used
more power than I intended."
"Oh well, so much for kite flying. Might as well start trekking it
back."
He agreed so they picked up the kite and started downhill towards the hut
they had built about halfway between the two mansions. Their supposedly
secret clubhouse, which naturally all their servants knew about and had
clandestinely reinforced and waterproofed. They chatted as they went about
many things, one of the chief topics being how still it was and how long
before the wind resumed. Koram had to admit he didn't know but that he could
hardly make permanent changes so things should return to normal soon. A few
more hours and it would all be over.
He was right though not in the way he expected. Perhaps he should have
taken seeing weather patterns as a spiderweb as a portent. He should have
known that tugging on a web was unwise, if a fly did it something big and
terrible rushed down to engulf and consume it. But the analogy never occurred
to him. At least not until it was far, far too late.
They had stored the kite and were hiking back to Koram's house for a
snack when they heard the roar of the wind. A funny sounding roar they had
never heard before. Fleura saw it first and shouted to Koram but the noise
increased as the wind whipped everything and blotted them out. It didn't
matter, by then he had seen the funnel joining earth to sky. They crouched
down and clung to each other in fright as the twister roared past. Then as
suddenly as it had come it was gone. They were starting to shake in relief
when Koram saw the tornado hadn't disappeared. It had just moved on, straight
into the village.
The scene shifted abruptly. Both children wearing fine clothing
accompanied by sombre servants in black walked through the wreaked village.
Many of the buildings had been levelled down to the foundations, nowhere had
escaped damage. Villagers muttered as they passed, not from suspicion they
had caused the storm but from resentment at the lords of the manors brats
intruding on their mourning. Forcing them to look respectful when they had
their hands full coping with merely living day to day among the wreckage.
Some of them derived some satisfaction from the shock on the children's faces.
Maybe they would convince their damned parents to forgo the tithe until they
had rebuilt Corum. The village square was the worst, a few rough coffins
but most bodies were wrapped in whatever cloth could be pressed into service
as a winding sheet. Koram just stared glassy-eyed for an hour until his
servants gently led him home. Fleura reached out to him but stopped for
fear of revealing the truth. It would remain a secret between them from that
moment on.
The scene shifted again. Both children looked older, physically about
ten but they gave the impression of greater age. Koram wore a pack on his
back and was dressed for travelling, durable clothes and thick soled walking
boots. Fleura wore much the same as she had on the hillside though it was
freshly washed. They stood in the hallway where they would meet sixteen
years later.
"You're really going?" Koram nodded.
"The servants know they can't stop me and I think I've learned enough to
get by. There won't be many who will challenge a sorcerer and those who do
..." He shivered a little but went on, "We both know I can kill commoners."
She looked like she was going to protest but it was an argument they had
been through too many times already. Instead she shook her head. "You never
could take care of yourself. I guess I'll have to come along. What a pain
you are! Now I'm going to have to pack, say goodbye to Profy ..." Koram cut
her off.
"You're not coming. I'm going alone. I did it and I'm responsible. All
those people ... I have to make amends somehow but I don't know how. Not yet
but I'll wander until I find an answer, however long it takes. I have to do
this, I can't stay here anymore. Every time I look at the village I feel sick.
But if you're along it'll be like an adventure not a quest and before long,
soon as we're away from here, we'll be having fun and forget about Corcum. I
can't do that, I owe them too much to just forget about it."
The argument began but he wouldn't be swayed. At last she gave up and
asked him, "Will you promise to come back someday."
"Yes, one day I'll be back."
"Let's swear it!" With that she held out her pinky finger and waited.
Koram hesitated then nodded and they linked their fingers and swore that they
would meet again whatever it took. For a moment they looked their age, a pair
of kids making a childhood promise instead of the grave youngsters they had
become. Then the moment ended and they again looked older than they should.
Koram made his goodbye then turned and marched off, he did not look back.
Fleura stood in the doorway watching him go and continued to stare long after
he was gone from sight. She dabbed away the odd tear but refused to let
herself cry. Instead she kept murmuring, "He'll be back. Someday he'll be
back", over and over like a mantra.
The vision abruptly blurred as what had been gave way to what was, after
a fashion. The Kain who had returned stood upon a pile of bodies, whole and
parts in the middle of a pool of blood. Blood flowed into the pool from the
wounds all the bodies bore staining all the clothing red. Bodies had been
piled together with no regard for order, a vast tangle of limbs, trunks and
torsos numbering dozens of corpses. Every face that could be seen
bore the sorcerer's mark. Kain's face was twisted with fury as he raised
his arms to the heavens and bellowed, "NOT ENOUGH!"
Abruptly everything went red and they were somewhere else again. A cave
illuminated by torches in the wall. Perhaps a place of refuge once but no
longer. An older Kain stood holding a globe of blue and green that he
studied intently. There was some white in his hair and lines in his face but
he still looked like a vigourous man. In his early fifties perhaps. On a
rough table spattered with blood the sheathed Stormbringer rested. Near the
foot of the table lay the body of a young women, scarcely more than a
teenager, her face bearing the sign that had marked her for death. Nearby
stood a crib which sat utterly still and silent.
Kain lowered the globe and smiled for the first time in ages. "Only one
left, one last sorcerer to go." He looked younger, as though some intolerable
burden was finally removed from his shoulders. He stood there a moment then
shook his head. "No sense delaying." With that he unsheathed Stormbringer
and the globe became empty then cracked and shattered. He didn't spare it a
glance. Instead he reversed his sword so the hilt rested on the ground then
shifted it until it wedged against a rise in the uneven floor. Nodding to
himself he knelt down and rested Stormbringer's point just under his ribcage.
That done he reached down to grasp and steady the hilt. He nodded with
definite satisfaction and seemed about to say something. Then smiled once
more and looked downward, his lips moved briefly perhaps saying a name.
Suddenly, shockingly, he thrust himself forward! Gasping with pain as the
sword cut into him. On his brow the sign reappeared amongst all the scar
tissue once more as power crackled then died under the bane sword's influence.
Biting back a scream he drove it in deeper pushing forward with failing
strength. Abruptly his hands fell away from the blade and his eyes became
sightless. Koram, the last sorcerer, hung impaled from his blade. Then the
sword's tip emerged from his back and the body toppled as it slid down the
blade. The scene held for a moment then a slash appeared through the air
itself. There was a sound like breaking glass and the vision was gone. The
hallway returned and Kain stood before Fleura brandishing Stormbringer. He
raised it in salute.
"Impressive. Past sight combined with divination and too widely spread
for Stormbringer to disrupt immediately. First time I've seen that trick."
Weakened by the casting Fleura leaned heavily against the wall. "Is that
all it means to you? Didn't you watch it? A bloody empty life and a lonely,
pointless death. That's all your path will bring you."
"Bloody, yes. Pointless, no. With our kind gone the commoners will have
a chance to build a new way of life, free from sorcerous oppression. I know
they could easily turn on another and become their own oppressors but at least
they will have had a chance. Not like today when sorcerers and commoners are
like wolves and sheep. Except wolves don't kill except to eat and never for
the sheer pleasure of it. Sorcerers glut themselves and torment commoners for
sport simply because they can. Power corrupts, why learn to control your
whims when there's no shortage of prey available?"
"Idiot!" Fleura swayed a bit but stood upright as anger overcame the
weakness the spell had induced. "If that was true we'd be like that and we
aren't. I live like a hermit bothering no-one and you're driven by guilt to
make amends for what you did to Corum. If sorcerers are heartless why would
we give a damn that you raised a tornado? If you even did because the power
that would take was more than you could have had."
"Weather magic is a very complicated business. I learned more of it so I
could control my powers and not err again. Everything connects to everything
else, any change echoes through the whole web. That day the potentiality for
a hurricane existed but the chance of it forming was remote. Until I meddled
with winds and provided the trigger. Like kicking out the key stone that
unleashes an avalanche. An accident, a tragic unintended accident." For a
moment grief seemed to break through the stern mask. But his resolve returned
and his eyes hardened. "That's what being a sorcerer means, even if we intend
no harm it's so easy to have accidents because of our whims. How is the world
a better place for our presence?"
Fleura couldn't answer that, she was trying to fight off blind panic.
He seriously intended to kill her! She finally believed that. She couldn't
run, couldn't fight and from the vision he had already killed intentionally
many times before. Desperately she tried to reason with him, "It's a hopeless
task. Sorcerers are always being born all across the land, you'll never wipe them
all out so why fight a futile battle? Destroy the ones who abuse their power but
there's no reason to kill the innocent!
"The abusers are the majority as we both know, with you as one of the few
exceptions. But my course is not hopeless as there are limits to the number
of kind and none remain where I have been. All I have to do is kill sorcerers
faster than they can breed and I am doing that. I estimate it will take
another thirty years to complete the task but I can do it if I have the
resolve. That's why fate brought me hear!"
"What in the hells are you talking about! I'm no threat and unlikely to
ever have kids. How is killing me going to make a difference?"
"To the world it won't but to me ... Fleura until today I have never
killed any sorcerer who didn't richly deserve it but I know that won't last.
As my quest continues I'll meet sorcerers of all ages and attitudes. Some
will be children too young to have done anything yet, some will be innocent
babies who have no thought of good or evil. I've asked myself how I can face
killing them and been unable to answer. Yet I know I can't make exceptions as
they'll grow up evil and have their own children if I let them go. You're
the answer." His eyes bore into her and the sorceress stepped back, cracking her
head against the unyielding wall.
Fleura tried to say something but terror was paralysing her. Koram, no
not Koram but Kain, stepped closer. "You do no harm, live in peace and have
no heir. You were the only friend I had in my youth, the only real friend I
ever had and, to the extent that children can love one another, I loved you.
I still do and I want nothing more than to leave now and never come back."
He raised the sword, "But if I can kill you, then I can kill anyone." His
voice was flat, serious and utterly merciless.
The sorceress had seen enough, mad or fanatical he wasn't the Koram she had
known. He had spoken truly, Koram was gone this was Kain. He was beyond
reason and she couldn't fight him which left ...
With a speed that surprised them both she turned and bolted. The
library's door slammed shut behind her and she thanked whatever gods there
were it had a working bolt as she clicked it shut for the first time.
Cowering in here until he kicked in the door would be idiotic but she couldn't
run properly in this dress. Without pausing she tore most of the fabric free
thankful she had gone for light fabric. The window opened without a squeak
and she slipped outside. Just in time as the door burst from its hinges and
ploughed through the casement. Bleeding slightly from the broken glass she
wasted a moment wondering how strong Kain was then turned and ran as he
stalked through the doorframe.
She didn't dare try her transport spell again, if it misfired again she
would be helpless and he wouldn't delay striking a second time. Hoping she
had enough distance she tried a delaying tactic. She had truthfully told Kain
she didn't use botanical magic on her garden. She had never said she hadn't
learned and experimented with them. Behind her rows of rosesbushes grew
unnaturally fast to block Kain's path with thorny tendrils. They'd stop
growing under the bane sword's influence but hacking through them would take
time. Time she could use to get the distance she needed . Or so she thought
until a howling wind blasted thorny limbs past her. She turned without
thinking to see the swirl around Kain's hand. His left hand, the right still
held the sword. She didn't pause to question the impossibility of using magic
while holding a bane sword, just plunged into the trees and ran.
Branches tore at her as raced pell-mell through the darkened forest.
Only long familiarity with the trails saved her from smashing full tilt into
a tree. Her heart pounded while her chest burned but she didn't slow down.
Behind her she heard the wind howl and the crash of falling trees and knew
he was following. From what she had seen she dared not assume he had sheathed
the sword to invoke his talent. On that last glimpse she had caught on him
she had seen the mark on his brow growing through the scar. That was why the
wound didn't look old, everytime he used his powers he had to burn it away
again.
Gasping for air she screeched to a stop as she saw the land drop away
before her. Through the red haze she recognised the edge of the gorge and
knew she had trapped herself. Near vertical sides and over a hundred
manheights to the river. Why had she come here? Maybe no reason, just blind
panic. This was her favourite local scenic views so she was well acquainted
with the route here. Had her feet just sought a path they knew? She stepped
to the edge, it was a very long way down. A thousand to one chance of
surviving though still preferrable to being carved up by a madman on a holy
mission. Flight was a rare power and not one she possessed but she would have
given anything for five minutes of it right now. There was one alternative
but she couldn't delay or that option was closed. With a courage she hadn't
known she possessed she leapt into the void.
Koram arrived moments later, in time to catch the last echo of her
defiant cry. Cautiously moving to the edge he peered over expecting an
ambush from someone clinging to the cliff-face. The rock was bare, to be
sure he sheathed the sword and swept a gale over it. Rocks crashed downward
but nothing invisible was thrown to its death.
He studied the riverbank but there there was no broken body sprawled
upon it. The river? Even if she had struck it the chances of surviving the
dive, the impact and the current were minimal. But wherever she had landed
she would not be untraceable. Kain wrapped the winds around him and lowered
himself gently down to the cliff's bottom. Once there he occupied himself with
the mechanical task of searching, trying hopelessly not to think of what he
was seeking. He hoped she had died in the fall, in which make things so much
simpler.
Though he searched all night he found no trace and it wasn't until the
next day that he relized what she had done. Despite his anger and resignation
over not having escaped his duty he felt a grudging admiration. It had taken
a lot of guts to use that exit. His belief she had turned into some housebound
shrinking violet hermit was obviously false. The old Fleura had been there
all along. Quite a girl then, quite a woman now. If only he didn't have to
kill her.
Hours earlier and leagues away a town's sleep was interrupted by a flare
of light and heat as a Sorcerer materialized in the square. Fleura flopped
down to the warm cobbles and had an attack of the shakes. She had done it!
Transported in midair! She hadn't thought it possible but the prospect of
imminent death concentrated the mind wonderfully. Thankfully she'd been
right about having enough distance from kain to work the spell. Maybe she
could have done it on the cliff edge but this way had been better. If it
failed she'd of been unconscious when she stuck the ground instead of lying
helpless on a clifftop waiting to be butchered. Cleaner way to go. But her
gamble had paid off.
She wasn't sure how long it was before she hauled herself to her feet
and staggered towards the curious faces peering from the doorway of an inn.
She studied them and the sign and was relieved to see it wasn't Corum Village's
Inn. There should be enough distance between them that even if Kain found
her location and came after her she would have the time she needed to recover.
For now she needed rest.
The innkeeper blanched as he made out her forehead mark, she didn't bother
with any reassurance just demanded a room, now! As the trembling man lead her
upstairs she reflected she would feel ashamed of this later. But for now she
was too tired to care. She kicked off her shoes and collapsed on the bed, too
exhausted to undress or check her wounds.
She slumbered through most of the day, nobody dared wake her, and awoke
with a fever and more aches and pains than seemed humanly possible. Thankful
that she had regained enough strength to work healing magics she began
repairing the damage.
Fleura felt well enough to travel after a few days but it was a week
before she left the inn. A week of building her strength and trying to make
some sense of it all. As she had arrived with nothing but a torn dress and
mudstained shoes she had to pay for her room and board along with fresh
clothing with IOUs. As she had suspected her credit was good everywhere in
town. Who would refuse a sorceress? She doubted anyone seriously expected
to honour them and was looking forward to surprising them. It was her one
amusement in what had to be the lowest point of her entire life. Koram was
gone, in his place was Kain. A madman who would kill her or any of her ...
their kind to save the future from their descendants. How could anyone become
that twisted by self hatred? It just didn't seem possible.
Yet it was and she had seen it with her own eyes, she couldn't deny it.
It was why she didn't dare stay longer than a week. Word would be spreading
about the sorceress freeloader who had moved into a inn. An inn where no
one else dared stay and where the owner and his family walked as if on
eggshells so as not to disturb her. Kain would hear and he would come for
her. It was time to move on, to keep moving until she had worked out a plan.
It was three months before Fleura dared return to Corum. The people
seemed terrified by her reappearance so it wasn't a great surprise when she
recognised the jewellry Selia was wearing. A gift from a certain admirer, she
was amazed she still felt a twinge of jealousy at the idea. Old habits die
hard. The terrified girl confirmed that Kain had departed weeks ago and
returned the jewellry which Fleura took without comment. It might be all
the wealth she had left in the world.
Returning cautiously to her manor she found that, as expected, it had
been looted and burned. She shook her head and chuckled, what could be more
natural. Not that she wasn't angry but after everything else that had happened
it seemed a minor inconveniance. She was more concerned with the way the
gardens had been churned up. They would need a lot of work to restore to
their old beauty. Unfortunately she didn't have time for that, not that there
was any place left for a gardener to live. Ah well, she wouldn't have been
staying anyway. Not now, not when she had her own quest to fufill.
Careful of boobytraps she crossed to the worn sundial that contained
another legacy from her parents. It was undisturbed, Koram had never known it
was here, nor had she until she stumbled upon it a few years earlier. She
uttered the right words and the ground pivoted to reveal a narrow tunnel.
The chamber beneath was small in size and very slim pickings as magical
armouries went. Most everything worthwhile had gone with her parents to the
war but here were a few items that might be useful until she had something
better. None would be much use against a bane sword but it was a start.
She would need something to equip her army with as going into battle empty
handed was not recommended.
Her fingers idly traced a lightning armlet's length as thoughts returned
to her decision. A few months wandering had lead to a resolution. She could
not stand idly by and watch Kain butcher all their kind, nor could she deny
that the world would be a better place for many of them passing. So, she had
her mission in life. Find the sorcerers worth saving and bring them to a
haven. Let Kain slaughter the monsters, while he did she would be
strengthening her people against the inevitable conflict. When he finally
came for them they would be ready for him and whoever stood beside him. For
there was nothing to prevent him recruiting other fanatics and forging more
Bane Swords. But they weren't invincible weapons, history had proven that.
One day they would face one another again. Next time, she would not run and
he would fall. She vowed that.
She felt tears forming and let herself cry this one last time. None of
this was what she had expected or wanted their reunion to lead to but the
world didn't are what she wanted. She was the only one who knew the threat,
who could help her people. She couldn't afford to mope around like some
fairytale heroine in a hole in the ground. There was too much work to.
Fleura stood up and wiped her eyes. She stood in silence for a moment
then began gathering everything. Who knew what would prove to be useful?
The first thing to do was learn how to use these things and listen for stories
about a very successful sorceror killer. She had to keep as far away as
possible until she was ready. Next time the battle would be fought at the
time and place of her choosing.
So it was that a friendship ended and a new war began. One that would
reshape the world forever.
The End
Kain and Fleura will return in "The Final Solution" in 1999.
Afterword.
This is my first non fanfic piece in quite a while. After a fashion
at least as there is another version of this story. I originally came up
with the idea of doing a story based on the "Bakuretsu Hunters/Sorcerer
Hunters" anime series. If anyone's interested ADVision is about to start
releasing it come January but I digress. Still I also wondered if it would
work as straight fantasy so I compromised and wrote two versions. If anyone's
really curious the fanfic version is titled "Inherit the Wind" and can be
found at
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Temple/1810/inherit.htm
If you don't want to bother I'll just say that part 1 is virtually
identical, things start diverging in part 2 and part 3 bears no resemblence
to the last third of the fanfic. In the fanfic things come to a definite
conclusion and the Fleura character is a much bigger drip who needs to be
saved by outsiders. That story is over while this one has a sequel in the
works but that's for next year.
So as this is intended for the December APA let's just say Happy Holidays
and I promise to start doing critiques of the rest of you come '99
Mark
(
geocities.com/tokyo/temple) (
geocities.com/tokyo)