Ryn of Avonside

Our journey took us to Anverkeit, the seat of power for the Duchy of Anverleik. I was learning that the people who called this region their homeland were the Anvers, and every second damn town or city or even fief had “Anver” somewhere in the name. It was impossible to remember the names of any single place because they all sounded identical. Like, seriously people, let’s at least try and be creative here!

What intrigued me though, was that this was apparently Esra’s old haunt. This was where she used to rule, or at least sit at the council of the Duke in power. The throne had rather abruptly changed hands when all the mages loyal to him had either died or disappeared. It was fairly obvious that this was also the same event that had forced Esra into hiding the first time. Power struggles among the political elite never changed.

The city was massive by medieval standards, three sets of walls pressed up against the Nostomer River and ranging out in a semicircle, with the ducal citadel in the center. The two innermost walls were small, crumbling things, each marking the previous outer reaches of the ever expanding city. The third, outermost wall was very well maintained however, and pretty damn tall to boot. I could see some of the buildings over the top of the walls, their construction hinting at an architectural style that was similar to that of medieval germans.

I couldn’t stop gawking as we neared the city, staring and leaning from side to side in an attempt to get a better view, much to the amusement of Valda. I kept asking questions about it, about the history of the place and the country as a whole. I was so intrigued by having a real life medieval level society to experience that it was impossible to hide my inner tourist.

Where Valda gave me short, bored answers, it was Cad who took up the slack. He was more than happy to tell me all about ancient stories and battles that he knew of, and I found that he was actually a pretty decent storyteller. He’d be better if he could stop staring at me with huge, yearning doe eyes though. He was so obvious about his interest in me that it was almost painful, and I frequently found myself wincing with second hand embarrassment as he said or did something stupid to get my attention.

He was sweet though, and a very genuine person in general, so I tried to be kind when I rebuffed his advances. I didn’t want to completely shatter the poor guy’s heart— I’d seen how people were when they were treated like shit by their crushes, when they didn’t really deserve it. Of course, there had also been times where things had gotten creepy, and people had bitched to me about someone who was going way too far with their attentions. Cad wasn’t like that though, so I let him be mostly.

Our stay in the city was brief, a single night in an inn, followed by a morning of bartering in the main market, then heading out at noon. They wanted to make it to the capital of the next nation over as quickly as possible, which was apparently a trading hub for the area, although why this city wasn’t, I didn’t know. They were so damn close to each other. The nations around here were very densely packed in general, reminding me of a map of Europe back in the day when France alone had been comprised of like five kingdoms.

It was informative though, many things about the city were similar to what I knew and expected from our media, the smell was bad, poverty was terribly obvious, corruption was rampant and taken for granted. Refuse was often emptied into the streets.

What I should have expected, but hadn’t, were the subtle influences of magic around every major street. For example, street lamps shone with artificer’s light— as it was known. I saw some basic mechanical devices that were based around utilising magical energy for power. Some of the officers in the city watch even had these strange contraptions that were basically primitive, magically powered handguns.

When the others weren’t paying attention, I quietly cast the spell to locate my friends again, finding them closer again than the last time I’d looked. They were slowly heading towards the same point that we were, which had me thinking I might find them in the next city. I really hoped so, because damn I missed them so badly.

The road out towards our next stop had far less farmland than previously, and it quickly devolved into an increasingly wild forest. The forest itself was obviously ancient, with thick, gnarled trees dominating our surroundings, their branches and leaves blocking out all but the most determined rays of sunlight.

The road was a nightmare in bumps and obstacles, and when we hit yet another branch that had fallen on the road, I swore loudly, “Fuck! God damn, I should teach you people about suspension.”

“Suspension?” Cad asked, giving me a worried glance from where he sat next to me at the front of the wagon.

“Ah, shit, wasn’t meant to say that out loud,” I muttered in English, before replying properly in Anve, “Ah, it’s these sort of springs that you put between the wheel axles and the cart to absorb the energy of impacts like that one. Good suspension requires the wheels to move partially independently of each other I think, though, but that wouldn’t be too much of a problem because this thing is powered by horses.”

Cad blinked at me like I’d explained everything in English rather than Anve, and for a second I wondered if I actually had. I wasn’t an expert of engineering by any means either, and I’m sure a real engineer could turn around and tell me where I’d gone wrong in half a dozen places, but still. Suspension. Please. For the love of my ass.

A sound out in the forest caught my attention like a thunderclap, but I wasn’t sure what it was. It’d sounded a little like a floorboard creaking.

“Stop,” Valda said sharply, and Cad and I both turned back to stare at her.

She was on alert, hanging out of the back of the cart, her eyes roaming the forest around us with sharp attention. I turned back to where the sound had come from, anxiety and adrenaline rushing to fill my veins in equal measure.

Cad dutifully stopped the cart according to Valda’s instructions, and we sat there in relative silence as the horses whinnied quietly. I felt the trees around me now, there was a sort of magic in them. Not much, but it was there. Maybe they had collected it somehow in their long lives. More concerning was the strange silence— nothing moved beyond our cart, no birds, no little not-squirrels. Nothing.

A whistling sound came then, high and haunting, and I felt Cad suddenly grasp for my hand. “Oh no. Oh, by the ring-maidens no,” he whispered, and I turned to him in confusion. His face was bone white with fear.

The whistling grew nearer, and at a great speed. Then… something flew out of the woods. It was twice the size of our horses and so fast it was barely a blur in my vision before the cart was on its side. The sounds of panicking horses erupted into the quiet, their frantic terror dragging the cart several meters before they gave up and began to thrash and kick at their harnesses.

I heard Valda shout from back behind us, then the rasp of her sword being drawn and a great crashing sound. I rolled out of the shifting, bucking cart and dragged Cad with me while I desperately tried to get a look at what was attacking us.

“Oh, holy shit,” I said in English, my blood running deathly cold.

The... thing, it was huge and vaguely man shaped, with powerful legs like a dog’s and a massive barrel chest like a gorilla’s. The arms were long, grotesquely so, and tipped with enormous claws that seemed to have odd holes and divots in them. Oh shit, they were responsible for the whistling. The claws whistled.

Its head was that of something between a bat and a dog, with long torn ears and massive wild eyes, dark with rage. From its hunched back rose four dirty black wings, along with a row of terrible spikes that trailed down its spine. The whole thing was covered in filthy black fur and random sharp thornlike growths for good measure.

“Ershklin,” Cad whimpered. “We’re all dead.”

Valda tried to keep it at bay with her sword, but it was almost twice as tall as her. She swung, wielding her massive sword almost like it were a quarterstaff, her plated gloves keeping her from being cut by the blade. It bit deep into the monsters side after one skillful swing, but this only pissed the beast off, and it reacted with a brutal, rage-filled lunge towards her chest. Valda threw herself to the side at the last minute, only barely dodging the whistling talons that quested for her death.

She came up in a wobble, her sword moving to block another flash of those terrible claws just before they tore her in two, but again she was thrown stumbling off balance. She careened backwards and tripped, going down with a thump as all the air left her lungs. The beast was quick to take advantage, showing an intelligence that was just as terrifying as the harmonious claws that dove down towards Valda’s prone form.

She blocked them again with her sword, but only just. For a moment I thought her blade had sunk into the flesh of the Ershklin’s hand, but it came back again with another swipe, and another, and another. Each time those whistling claws dropped, Valda was slower to defend herself, unable to regain her feet, let alone her balance. Then with a grunt, the thing changed the trajectory of its swing, coming in from the side with a wide swing. The huge blade was sent flying to land in the dirt, leaving Valda defenseless as the huge creature made another, final strike to end her.

Except it didn’t connect, because I finally moved. Desperation overcame rigid fear. Fight conquered flight.

I flicked my arm out, and rippling waves of vine tattoos flowed down my forearms, and the air rippled violently, slamming into its head. It staggered, then roared and attempted to swipe a at Valda again—muscles bulging with power. Again, my arm twitched and I shaped magic, but… I only had one other thing that could help— raw willpower given form.

My telekinesis held it, invisible vines wrapping around the bulging limb like it was the trunk of a doomed tree. I stepped forward, shucking off my disguise in the process lest I accidentally burn the plants out back in my grove. I poured power into my vines, more and more of them finding and wrapping around the terrible creature until it was held, floating in midair.

I could feel sweat beginning to bead across my body with the exertion, it was so damn heavy, but with a shaking will, I wrapped another vine around it’s huge bull-like neck. Pain exploded through my forehead and I screamed, twisting and pulling at the thing from all directions, just wanting it to stop hurting Valda. There was a cracking sound, but I barely registered it, all of my focus bent to squeezing, twisting and crushing. Kill it, kill it, kill the monster, kill the damn monster. Make the fear go away.

Its body ruptured like a week-old carcass, gore and viscera spilling out in every direction as the pressure finally overcame it. My vines vanished with the lack of resistance, and I stared at what I had done in shock. New mages were meant to be weak right? We were meant to be little more powerful than a regular human, able to throw a stick around with our minds maybe, but that was meant to be it, right?

Except my stick had exploded, and so had this creature. Pieces of it littered the road behind our wagon, myself and a shocked Valda having only just missed being drenched in the foul smelling stuff. I turned to her where she stood nearby, having evidently rushed to get away from the thing while it was… preoccupied.

She was staring back at me with raw, shuddering fear in her eyes, almost as if she wasn’t really seeing me, but rather some memory from long ago, and I could hear Cad behind me whimpering.

“You’re a mage,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and choked.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I mumbled as my vision began to blur, and then I keeled over, the world turning black as I lost consciousness.