The Wielder and the Source

Chapter 30

"Alright." She ran down the hill, chasing the few luminescent insects still lingering in the flowers.

Death watched her for a moment before cutting her eyes to Aldeheid. "Why didn't you take it?" She nodded at a spot to his left.

Aldeheid only took his eyes off her for a second, and his heart leapt into his throat. Nestled amongst the flowers was the bag Nylarah had given him. He'd left it in Kon, to be forgotten. Perhaps flinging it in the river would've been a better course of action.

"I don't want it," he said, his voice steady despite the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat.

She pressed her lips together and clasped her hands, becoming still and statuesque. "What I'm about to tell you is for your own good. Leave the thin spaces alone. If you value your life and the lives of those around you, your newfound family, Kitaya, tell them to stop."

Aldeheid took in her words. They soaked into his skin like cold rain, freezing him to the bone. He shook his head. "The humans, they'll... We can't just stand by and do nothing."

Death closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them they were hard as onyx. "Can you kill a god, Aldeheid?"

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. The gods were responsible for what was happening to the thin spaces? His mind wanted to reject the thought, but it made too much sense. The gods created the separation between earth and magika. They could destroy it as well.

She looked down at him as though he were a naïve child and turned away. "Wenry, say goodbye to Aldeheid."

Wenry bounded up the hill and half tackled, half hugged him. "Thanks for coming, Al. Promise me you'll be safe, alright?"

"Wait, I—" Aldeheid awoke with a start, torchlight flickering in his peripheral. Bit by bit his senses crept into awareness. The air stank of rotting wood and wet earth. His limbs were splayed in awkward angles, a throbbing pain lancing through his left leg. Bits of stone dug into his cheek, and his neck was stiff from being on a hard floor for gods knew how long.

The room he was in wasn't big enough for him to stretch his body out completely. Granted, he had a lot of body. What nonsense had he gotten himself into this time? He needed to find Kitaya and—

Realization struck him and the fog in his head lifted. Those masked people. They must have locked him up somewhere. Damn it. He squeezed his eyes shut. Think Aldeheid. What would Kitaya do in a situation like this?

Assess first, then act, angel eyes. There wasn't much to assess, only an empty room lit by a single flickering torch. He tested his limbs, and discovered his leg was hi only injury. His limbs shook as he pushed himself to his hands and knees and his chest burned from the exertion.

A door swung in with a metallic screech, and light and shadows poured over him. In walked two of those masked people. One held a torch up over their head, while the other carried a pair of shackles that glinted in the flickering fire.

The latter gave him a swift kick to the ribs. Pain bloomed in his side as the force flipped him onto his back. The masked person shackled his hands together before hoisting to his feet and pushing him through the open door.

Aldeheid stumbled and slammed into the opposite wall, the impact redoubling the pain in his leg. One of the masked people grabbed him and pushed him down the hall, shouting something in their guttural tongue.

He hadn't the strength or stability to resist. The best course of action would be to play along until he knew where he was and how to escape. He hobbled along the narrow hall as fast as he could. The plain grey walls seemed to stretch on forever, lined with doors identical to the one he'd came out of.