Jack Linch stood at the docks watching the sun sink into the distant waters. He felt a strange blend of tingling anticipation and grim reassurance. This was it. This would be the night. The sky before him was stained red with the setting sun. A smile spread across his thin lips. How appropriate.
The Rashakas were taking care of finding him a boat. They had vanished after he had told them they would wait until nightfall. He wasn't completely sure why he had suddenly chosen to postpone his vengeance. Perhaps it was to more fully savor the moment. Perhaps it was to further the poetic justice of destroying the man who had destroyed him. It had been at night that Abdiel had broken him all those years ago. In fact it had been a night preceded by a bloody red sunset like this one.
Jack remembered every detail of that night. A night when he had still been at the height of his power. That was when the thought of the great Jack Linch falling was unthinkable.
He could have had anything he wanted before that night. He could have taken anything he wished from whomever he wanted. Men trembled before him. Everyone believed him invincible. He had believed it himself.
Then in one night it was all gone.
Abdiel had dragged him off his immortal throne and made him nothing. That Abdiel would want to was no real surprise. Of course Abdiel would be jealous of his power. Of course that cursed filth of a man would want to drag him down to his level. The terrible shock was that Abdiel actually succeeded, succeeded where so many others had failed.
That was what Jack Linch hated most. Now even if he regained all his former prestige he would never know that feeling again. That godlike feeling. That feeling of total invincibility. Now he would always know that there was a way to bring him down. Others would know it too. That was the curse Abdiel had thrust upon him. It was the curse of mortality. He had risen above it for a time, he had been a god. Abdiel had taken that from him. STOLEN it from him!
Jack's tingling anticipation suddenly flared into a burning rage. The mongrel had stolen his immortality! And for what? What had the man gained? Nothing! Nothing but the satisfaction of his own envy! All the lesser creatures that had surrounded Jack Linch couldn't stand the fact of their own inferiority. They couldn't stand the fact that someone like him could rise above them.
His patience suddenly gone Jack cursed the slow sunset. He glanced around hoping to see the Rashakas but they wouldn't appear until nightfall as per his instructions. Red magic crackled in his hands and flooded through his body. He had chosen this part of the dock because it had the fewest people. Now he cursed his own decision. What did he care if a few maggots saw him?
He looked out across the water at the various ships sitting at anchor. He had known which one was Abdiel's before the Rashakas had pointed it out. It was small and it was some distance apart from both the other ships and the dock. Jack watched the small ship with glaring intensity. It would be so easy just to do it from where he was standing. He could incinerate the whole bloody boat even from that distance. Yet, it wouldn't be enough. Abdiel wouldn't suffer enough. Moreover Jack Linch wouldn't see the man suffer.
He began pacing back and forth. Energy and rage and red magic pumped and twisted inside begging to be released. His eyes had turned as red as the sunset. His back was straight and his head was turned towards the boat in the distance. He felt like shouting at it. Shouting a challenge to the man he had come to destroy. Shouting out what he would do to that man this night, this glorious night! All at once he suddenly realized that he was shouting,
"I'm coming! I'm coming for you! I'll roast you Abdiel! I'll roast you like a boar! I'll boil the flesh from your bones! DO YOU HEAR ME?!? THEN I'll go after your FILTHY CHILDREN! Oh I wish you'd be alive to see what I'll do to them! THEN I'll go after your self-righteous rat's nest in the Tower! I'll burn anyone who has ever heard your name! You will DISAPPEAR FROM THIS WORLD! Everyone you love will be ASHES! Do you HEAR ME?"
"Master Linch."
Jack howled and sent a torrent of red fire at the Rashaka behind him. It just managed to dodge the inferno and a small wooden structure behind it erupted into flames. The Rashaka slipped to one side watching Jack warily. The other two appeared at his sides also studying Jack as he sucked in deep breaths.
Jack saw none of them. He was watching the fire he had created.
The red flames danced this way and that in the growing twilight. His eyes danced with them. He felt a sense of serenity in the growing fire. A sense of power that he had created something so wondrous.
He hadn't really taken time since his escape to watch the fires he had created. It was truly dazzling. After a short time the flames became more colors than just red. Yellow and orange blended together. He thought again of the sunset he had watched moments before. His mind drifted to another time. A time before he was Jack Linch.
Before he had been shown the power within him.
He saw himself, naught but a lad, wandering and thieving through the streets of Port Silver. He saw himself setting fires. He saw himself sneaking at night to whichever building had caught his fancy. He saw the tender he had brought with him and the flint and steel he always carried. He saw his hands shake with excitement as he struggled to create a spark. He felt the quivering thrill when the wooden structure ignited. Then he felt the magic moment.
His youth was filled with pain and misery. He carried a terrible anger inside that was always struggling to make its way out. He would sometimes feel as though his rage would consume him. But not those nights. He would watch the fire he had created and for a brief wonderful period he would feel nothing at all. All his anger and hate would fade and it was just him and the roaring flames. He called it the magic moment.
Jack closed his eyes remembering and savoring each moment he had created. It was different now. Now that he could burn anything he wanted with a thought the magic moments had faded away. Now he had new ways of finding peace. Now his only peace was vengeance.
His eyes snapped open and he watched the last smoldering remains of the wooden structure collapse under their own weight. The sun had completely vanished and he was shrouded in darkness. He looked up at the shimmering light of a new moon. Then he turned and looked at the Rashakas.
They were all standing behind him in a line. Each one had the appearance of a king's soldier. Only their strange eyes betrayed their true forms. The green yellow eyes glowed softly in the darkness. They were watching him intently. One of them had a trickle of saliva running down the side of its chin.
* * *
"Test? He tried to kill me!" cried Ashur pulling against the men holding him. His sudden alertness had also brought all his pains screaming to the fore.
The bald man nodded, "He wanted to see your reaction in the face of death."
Ashur felt himself being hoisted in the air and carried out of the tavern. He began pulling and kicking against the hands holding him,
"Where are you taking me?"
"You are injured. They are taking you to be healed," replied the bald man.
Ashur was carried through unpaved roads of Aerico. He ceased struggle after a time and after the grips of his carriers grew tighter. He watched the houses around him and counted the doors that they passed. Eventually, they took a sharp turn and Ashur was carried into a small cottage.
He was placed on a table and released. Ashur watched the men file out. He recognized them as the men who had been cleared out of the Tower before his fight. He tried to sit up and felt the stabbing pain that spoke of cracked ribs. He lay back and groaned. He was so tired of being injured.
A moment later another couple of men walked in carrying his opponent. They placed him on a table beside Ashur and walked out. Ashur felt himself go tense as the man he had fought was laid down only a few feet away. Lachesis looked over at him. His face was swollen and bloody but his eyes were as intense as ever. Ashur met his gaze.
They remained like that for a while. Neither one moving a muscle both sets of eyes locked on each other. Despite the assurances that the fight had only been a test Ashur considered attacking the man outright. Better safe than sorry and that way he would have the initiative. But as time passed and the man showed no sign of moving Ashur chose to wait.
Then he heard another man enter the room but he didn't look away. He knew how fast his opponent was and he had no intention of giving him an opening.
"Well, well! What have we got here?"
Neither injured man spoke.
"Lachesis! What in the name of the burning suns happened to you?"
"I was giving a test," replied Ashur's opponent without looking away.
"Ah? And who might this be?"
"I'm a nameless caravan guard," said Ashur with a slight grin.
"His name is Ashur," said Lachesis his eyes locked on the other man.
"Alright that's enough! You two look like you're ready to kill each other! Stop staring at each other this instant!"
Neither man moved.
"Both of you will look at me right now or I'll kick you out! This is a place of healing and I'll have no patient of mine looking to gouge another patient at any second!"
Ashur and Lachesis slowly turned their heads to look at the healer. The man was short and built like a rock. He had a short beard and long braided black hair. Ashur's eyes grazed across the man's grizzled features but he kept Lachesis in his sight.
The healer looked from one to the other and back again the he nodded.
"There that's better! Now I'm going to start cleaning you up. If either of you try and attack the other," he pulled a heavy club from his belt, "I'll dent your skull. Are we clear?"
Both men nodded.
Satisfied, the healer walked over to some counters beyond Ashur's peripheral vision and began preparing something. Ashur looked at the ceiling but kept Lachesis in his sight constantly.
The ceiling and walls were all covered with white cloths and tapestries. Directly above Ashur was a tapestry depicting some warrior decked out in silver armor. The rest of the ceiling cloths were plain white.
The healer returned with a large bowl of foul smelling liquid. It steamed as he plunged a rag into it and began rubbing it across Ashur's face and the cuts and bruises on his limbs. Ashur coughed at the smell as it filled his nostrils and seeped into his skin.
"Yes, yes I know it's awful," murmured the healer as he continued to spread the greenish liquid across Ashur's wounded frame. There was a flash of steel as he pulled a small knife from his belt.
Ashur's body went tense and his hand jerked up to grab the healer's arm in a grip of iron.
"Unhand me at once!" cried the healer trying to pull his arm away, "do you want me to take a look at the ribs you've clearly cracked or not?"
Ashur reluctantly let go and the healer sliced his tunic open and began examining his ribcage. He nodded after a moment and spread more of the foul smelling liquid across his torso,
"Rather touchy aren't we?" he asked as he worked, "Been out on some nasty mission I imagine."
"He's not a Janin," said Lachesis from the other table.
"No?" asked the healer finishing up with Ashur's wounds and moving on to the other man, "Then why are you here, Ashur?"
"My sister was taken by monsters," said Ashur trying not to breath as the rank odor of the healer's bowl drifted through the room.
The healer was bent over Lachesis's torso spreading more of his liquid. "So you were testing him to see if he could make the rescue?"
Lachesis said nothing.
"Pretty brutal test," murmured the healer, "what'd you try to kill him?"
Lachesis said nothing.
The healer continued dabbing the rest of the wounds in silence. Then he stepped away and placed the bowl at some out of sight part of the room. He returned a short time later and stood before the two men. Ashur was still trying not to breathe in the smell that now hung over the room like a cloud. Lachesis seemed undisturbed. The healer looked at both of them.
"Our high and mighty have asked that I give a healing song for both of you at once so that this mission, apparently the rescue of Ashur's sister, can be sent as soon as possible. This request is, of course, ridiculous. But I have my orders so both of you had better brace yourselves."
Ashur looked at the man in confusion. He had heard of healing songs but had never seen one. Why was it ridiculous to heal them both at once? He glanced over at Lachesis. The man's swollen jaw was set in determination. He looked like a man being taken to a torture chamber. Ashur looked from him to the healer who seemed to be preparing his voice. Then the healer opened his mouth.
A golden baritone voice cascaded across Ashur's senses. At first the sound filled his ears. A beautiful soothing sound that calmed his mind and heart. Then, incredibly, he began to feel the sound stroke across his skin. Soft as rose petals in the wind it drifted across his entire body.
Ashur watched the healer with wide eyes. The man was moving his hands across the air as though directing the sounds he was making. Slowly the delicate feeling across Ashur's body became stronger, like being immersed in warm liquid. Ashur smiled slightly as the feeling was not unpleasant. He watched the healer in wonder as the man slowly walked between the two patients.
Then in a swift motion the healer placed a hand on Ashur's chest and a hand on the chest of Lachesis. Ashur gasped as though the blood in his veins had turned to ice. The song changed and the golden voice became hard and penetrating. Ashur struggled to move but his limbs were completely immobile. He couldn't even shiver against the cold that engulfed him. He tried to close his eyes but his eyelids wouldn't function. Then he began feeling a tingling in the places where the healer had spread his foul smelling concoction.
The tingling grew stronger and stronger as though needles were being pressed into his wounds. Needles stabbed into his cracked ribs and bruises. He tried to cry out but his mouth was frozen. The healer's hand grew colder and colder until it seemed to burn his chest. Tears formed at the edges of Ashur's eyes and then the song stopped and the healer pulled his hand away.
Ashur convulsed sharply as he suddenly regained control of his body. He gasped for air and shivered on the wooden table. He breathed heavily for a short while as though he had just been rescued from drowning. He moved his shaking arms and fingers just to know that he was in control again. He turned on his side and coughed sharply feeling vomit rise into his throat. Then he laid back and forced the vomit back down.
It seemed like an eternity that he was just lying on the table shaking and struggling for air. Slowly he began to calm. He turned on his side again this time facing Lachesis across from him.
Lachesis was on his back shaking uncontrollably and gasping for air. Somewhat gratified Ashur closed his eyes and tried to make his body calm itself. He pulled his limbs together and attempted to hold them still. He opened his eyes and saw the healer standing over him with a wet cloth in his hands. Ashur flinched away as the man reached to place the cloth on his head.
"That was the worst of it lad, this thing here will only make you feel better."
Ashur watched the man distrustfully but allowed him to place the wet cloth on his forehead. The cloth was warm and soothing. Ashur felt his shaking body calm somewhat. Then the healer replaced the cloth with another and Ashur felt himself relax almost completely. His breathing took a little longer to come back to normal. The whole time he just lay on his side, holding himself in the fetal position as the healer replaced cloths on his head. He closed his eyes as his breathing regulated and his thoughts drifted into sleep.
* * *
Come closer Cassandra.
"Who are you?" Cassandra asked again.
Come closer to the light, the cythraul may return.
Cassandra hesitated looking back into the cold darkness. It was useless, she could see nothing but pure emptiness. She stepped closer to the strange blue fire burning before her. She noticed that, though the blue flames provided a measure of light in this benighted realm, she felt no warmth or heat as she drew closer.
"Now tell me who you are," she said looking at the silhouette on the other side of the blue flames.
Once I wielded great magic.
"You're a sorcerer?"
The shadow nodded. Once, now I am only a prisoner.
Cassandra wondered at her fellow prisoner's voice. It settled across her thoughts like smooth oil,
"What is your name?" she asked still unsure of what to make of him.
My name would sound strange to you. It is an ancient name.
"What is it?"
Semildinatch.
He was right. It was a strange name,
"What is this place?"
This is a prison built of magic long ago.
Milady lit a candle that I think sent me here."
Don't call her that.
"What?"
You know her true name do you not?
"Yes," replied Cass remembering the strange flow of knowledge that had flooded her mind.
There is no need to try and appease Ravena in this place.
Cassandra sat on the cold hard ground. She looked into the blue fire as it twisted and curled in the darkness. She had never seen blue fire before. Except for the candle that Milad—Ravena had lit to send her here.
Blue fire is all that burns in this place. The flame of the candle you saw mirrored this fire that I have created.
"How did you know what I was thinking?" asked Cassandra edging a little away from Semildinatch.
I told you I wield magic. I chose to speak to you like this because the years of imprisonment have changed my form and how I speak. I believe my true voice would frighten you, Cassandra.
"How do you know my name?" Cassandra suddenly felt incredibly apprehensive around this Semildanatch. She glanced behind her to edge away further but the thought of the cythraul kept her rooted near the blue fire. She glanced around wondering if there were any other beacons of light in this place.
I began reading your mind as soon as I saw you. Learning your name was a simple matter. Please understand I have been the only prisoner here for so long. It has been ages since I've seen a human face. I just wanted to know who you were and why anyone would send you here.
"How long have you been trapped here?" asked Cassandra feeling a touch of sympathy in her uneasiness.
One thousand years.
Cassandra blinked at the dark figure on the other side of the light.
"That's impossible!"
Hardly, there is no aging in this place.
"You are one thousand years old?"
Slightly older than that.
"How were you imprisoned?"
This prison was built for me. Warriors with magic greater than my own slaughtered my family and locked me in here.
"Why?" asked Cassandra her uneasiness slowly slipping away. She felt a great swell of pity for the unfortunate man.
I suppose they were afraid. Afraid of the power I wielded. Afraid that they couldn't control me.
Cassandra looked away from the shadow and into the blue fire again. She thought about asking Semildanatch about his family but decided against it. Then she remembered that he could read her thoughts. She looked up apologetically.
No need to feel bad, Cassandra. I had a wonderful family. I had a beautiful wife and a daughter. A daughter much like you, actually.
"What do you mean like me?"
I can see the courage within you. I can see the love you have for your father and brother. My daughter loved her mother and myself just as much as you love your family. I believe she would have done anything for me just as you would do anything for your family.
Cassandra looked steadily into the blue flames in front of her. It seemed like such a long time since anyone had said anything nice to her. She felt tears form on the rims of her eyes but she quickly blinked them away. She wondered suddenly about her father and Ashur. They would come for her she was sure of it. But how would they ever find her in this place?
Of course, my daughter was not an Oracle.
That brought Cassandra's head up,
"You know about that?"
Yes, I do. You have a powerful gift, Cassandra.
Cassandra stared into the blue flames again. She felt a dark emptiness engulf her. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Memories flashed before her eyes. Memories of her family and memories of her dreams. When she spoke her voice was hollow.
"It's not a gift."
Why would you say that?
"It's not a gift!" she screamed suddenly at the shadowy figure. "I see things! Terrible things! Things that I don't want to see! I am scared to close my eyes at night! I wish it would go away! I wish I could sleep in peace! I wish the dreams would just stop!"
I see.
Blue light sparkled off Cassandra's tearstained face,
"I see horrible things. All I see is evil and darkness and killing and-and this place!"
So your power has never helped anyone?
Cassandra struggled to keep her composure,
"Yes...yes it helped my family once."
It saved your lives didn't it? It saved your father and brother?
Cassandra nodded as fresh tears streamed down her face.
"Yes."
Are their lives not worth your troubles? Doesn't that make this power a gift?
Cassandra buried her face in her knees and sobbed.
I do not wish to upset you, Cassandra.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," cried Cassandra into her knees.
I only wanted you to understand that there is good that can come from this power you possess.
Cassandra said nothing.
There are never more than two Oracles in this world at one time. I want you to know how special you are, what potential you have.
Cassandra glanced away from her knees and the blue light and looked into the darkness. Pure impenetrable darkness that surrounded her and Semildanatch. She had never been anywhere that looked so dark. She shivered against the cold that hung over her in the air. She wiped her face on her knees and hugged herself.
I apologize for upsetting you. I haven't spoken with anyone in a very long time. You are a very brave girl for what you have been through. I would never say anything that I thought would cause you pain.
"Just leave me alone, please."
Semildanatch was silent for a time. Cassandra sat in the cold darkness hiding her face in her knees. There was no wind, no sound, just cold darkness. She glanced up at the strange blue light given off by Semildanatch's magical flames. She couldn't seem to focus on any one train of thought. Rather she was bombarded by a hundred different thoughts. Nightmares from her recent and distant past, memories of Ashur and her father flashed before her. She closed her eyes and hoped that all the memories would go away. She did not want to think of her father or her brother. If this had happened to her what terrible things had happened to them?
Ravena would have you believe that enslavement is the only way to control your visions, but that is untrue. All Oracles possess the power to control their gift.
"I can't," said Cassandra flatly
But what if I told you that there was a way?
Cassandra raised her head to look at the shadowy figure. She felt a wave of uneasiness grip her stomach. Her tear filled eyes looked imploringly across the flickering blue fire between them. Then she felt it. A wonderful excited feeling, like finding a glittering piece of gold in the moonlight. What if there was a way?
"How?" she asked hesitantly