Eternal Forest: Savage Rising (19 page)

“Who’s there?” a strange voice asked from the back room of the shack. Everyone turned towards the inner doorway and drew their weapons. Two middle-aged dwarves emerged from underneath the arch. One had long hair as black as
the night sky. The other was redheaded, with a long, braided ponytail and full beard.

             
Sensing no threat, everyone put away his or her weapons. The red-haired dwarf’s eyes suddenly widened. “Lady’s grace,” he said with his hands clasped in front of his chest. “Is it you, oh great Sorceress?”

             
Azalea knew she was turning red. “Yes,” she replied meekly.

             
“Thank the Lady that you’re safe,” the other dwarf said with a bow of his head.

             
“And you two are…?” Cherin asked.

             
“I am Copper,” the blond dwarf said.

             
“And I am Granite,” the other followed. “We run the storehouse.”

             
“How have you been able to avoid detection in here?” Viyana questioned. “This is easily the largest structure in the market, but it looks completely untouched.”

             
The two dwarves exchanged unsure glances. “The storehouse is a bit off to the edge of the market,” Granite said, though there was no confidence behind his words. “They must have marched right past us.”

             
Zehlyr gave a puzzled look around. “But everything around you is…”

             
“Why is there a balisekt hiding with you?” Copper asked before Zehlyr could finish.

             
“It’s a long story,” Heeska exclaimed. “Just know that I’m on your side.”

             
“Sorceress, it’s not safe for you here,” Granite insisted. “You must get out of the city before the balisekts find you.”

             
“There are soldiers out in the market,” Azalea said. “We can’t go back out there.”

             
“Follow us,” Copper said, motioning to the back room. “There’s a back door leading out into the trees.”

             
“You can escape into the Wilds without detection,” Granite added.

             
Cherin shot up to his feet. “Finally, someone with a good idea,” he said.

             
Azalea stood as well. Cherin was right. This was the best course of action. “Let’s move,” she said. Everyone stood and followed the two dwarves into the back storeroom. Once again, shelves lined the walls, overflowing with food. On the back wall, a small opening had been cut into the wood panels. It was only a few feet high, and covered with a sheet of rough burlap. The entrance to the building had been built high enough for anyone from the shortest dwarf to the tallest centaur to use, but the back door was clearly only designed for dwarves.

             
“We’ll look first to see if it’s safe,” Copper said. The two dwarves dashed under the sheet. “All clear, Sorceress,” Granite said from the other side of the wall. “Come on out.”

             
Azalea leaned over to pass through the opening, but Zehlyr stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Wait,” he said.

             
“What is it?” Azalea asked.

             
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Something just doesn’t feel right.”

             
“We don’t have time for this,” Cherin said anxiously. “Those soldiers will be in here any moment.”

             
“He’s right,” Azalea said, though in a kinder tone. “Feelings aside, we really have no choice.”

             
Zehlyr nodded, but with great hesitation.

             
“You must hurry, Sorceress,” Copper said.

             
Azalea pushed back the sheet and ducked under the low entryway. As soon as she was on the other side of the wall, her stomach turned with the horrible realization that Zehlyr was right. The forest behind the storehouse was full of balisekt soldiers, all standing in patient silence for her to emerge like an audience anticipating the start of a play.

The forest wasn’t right, either. The trees going back as far as she could see had been burned to blackened husks, the leaves disintegrated and the branches turned into coal. The shrubbery across the ground lay in piles of smoldering, gray ash. The ground had been scorched, and Azalea could see heavy sprinklings of salt scattered throughout the ash and dirt. This was more than a burning. This was something far more sinister.

Panicked, Azalea tried to retreat into the shack. She reached for the sheet, but the large hand of a balisekt soldier snatched her by the wrist and flung her away from the wall. Her hand gripped the sheet and pulled it down as she was tossed into the ruined forest. The others had no time to react before a swarm of soldiers rushed in through the small opening and seized them.

With their hands held behind their back by the soldiers, Zehlyr and the others were led out into the ruined forest where the army waited. No soldier held Azalea captive, but she found herself inhibited nonetheless. As she moved farther and farther into the burned and salted ground, she felt all the energy in her body suddenly vanish. Too weak to stand, she collapsed to her knees. The world seemed to spin around her dizzy head. She could hear her friends calling out for her, but they sounded like echoes from the back of a deep cave.

Azalea collapsed onto her side. Her vision was blurry. The light of the sun brighten and dimmed like a flickering candle. She could barely make out the two dwarves kneeling beside her, their eyes wide with fear and sorrow.

“Please, Sorceress, forgive us,” Copper said.

“They said they wouldn’t leave the city until they had you,” Granite added. “We’re so sorry.”

Azalea rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky. There was no canopy of leaves to block her
view; the balisekts had burned them all away. They’d set a clever trap to catch them, but why burn the forest? A tall balisekt stood over her, casting a shadow across her body.

Even with her vision impaired, Azalea could tell that this was no ordinary soldier. His armor was far finer than that of any other balisekt in the army. A chain of pure gold lay upon his scaly chest. A gleaming, metal helmet sat atop his head, with two, long ram horns protruding from the top. Draped over his shoulders was a familiar, red cloak, the same she had seen on the fallen balisekts in the Wilds three years ago.

She needed no introduction. This had to be Killika.

The Balisekt Lord leaned over her. His scaly face smiled sinisterly as he gazed into her tired, fluttering eyes. “At last,” he said in a deep, hissy voice. “You are mine again.”

Chapter 19

             
In hindsight, it seemed so obvious. Only now, as Zehlyr stood amongst an entire platoon of the balisekt army, his wrists bound behind his back, could he see just how foolish he’d been. Years of surviving in the wilds had taught him to be careful, to be cautious. With all he’d learned over those years about following his senses and trusting his gut, he should have seen the trap long before it caught them.

Why would the largest structure in the marketplace be completely unharmed? Why would its shelves remain full as though nothing had happened that day? Why would the two shopkeepers still be in perfect health when the rest of their kind was bloody corpses lining the dusty marketplace?

Lord Killika didn’t need to explain his trap to anyone. They’d left the storehouse standing to draw them in. It offered shelter, food, and water. They’d threatened two surviving dwarves into betraying their Sorceress. It was a perfectly laid, but perfectly obvious plan. Had he not been blinded by foolish hope, and kept his mind focused on the dangers at hand, he may have been able to avoid it.

He should have seen it coming.

As much as he wanted to kick himself for his foolishness, his mind was too preoccupied with worry for Azalea. The balisekts had done something horrible, something sinister, to the southern Wilds below the dwarven marketplace. The plant life had been burned to ash. The land had been scorched and covered in salt. Not only was this land dead, it would remain dead for years to come. It would take many seasons before any buds would be able to spring from this soil, if they ever did again.

He wasn’t sure why the balisekts had done such a horrible thing, but it was clearly having some kind of effect on Azalea. Ever since she’d stepped onto the blighted soil, she’d been weakened. Her body lay limp on the ground. Her eyelids fluttered as she fought to keep them open. Small moans of exhaustion and confusion barely made it past her lips. She was sick, possibly dying, and he knew neither why or how to stop it.

“At last,” Killika said, “I’ve been searching for you for a very long time.”

“Lord…Lord Kill…Killika…” Copper said in a trembling voice. His small knees were knocking violently, causing the old fabric of his trousers to shake. His hands held to each other, as though he were deep in prayer. In his thoughts, he likely was.

The Balisekt Lord looked up from his captured Sorceress to the two dwarves standing fearfully with his soldiers. His long lips snarled like an angry dog. “What is it?” he snapped.

“Lord, we’ve done what you asked,” Copper said. “The Sorceress is yours.”

“What of it?” Killika retorted.

“Well, you said that if we gave you the Sorceress, you’d release us,” Granite added.

Killika smiled, but there was no warmth or kindness within it. “That I did,” he said. Looking up from the two dwarves, he gave a nod to his soldiers. Acting in unison, two of the balisekts behind the dwarves drew their swords and plunged them into their backs. Copper and Granite’s eyes went wide as the blades exploded out of their chests.

“No!” Zehlyr shouted. The two dwarves fell limp into the ash that covered the ground.

“You are released,” Killika said quietly with a sneer. “Go be with your Lady.”

“Why?!” Zehlyr screamed. “They obeyed your commands!”

Killika took several commanding steps forward before striking his scaly hand hard against Zehlyr’s face. A trickle of blood ran down the corner of Zehlyr’s mouth as he stared back at the Balisekt Lord with rage in his eyes. “It is of no concern to you, human,” Killika snapped. “But know this: the fate they suffered was merciful compared to what’s in store for the rest of your pitiful tribes.”

“Why are you doing this?” Viyana demanded. Even when bound like a slave, she still commanded authority. The soldiers holding her captive exchanged subtle glances of uneasiness. “These dwarves have done nothing to you.”

“Oh, but they have,” Killika retorted. “All of you have. You and your pact of tribes have shunned our kind for centuries, forcing us to live out in the Savage Lands like animals.”

“Is the world not big enough?” Cherin asked with a cockiness that would likely get him killed. “What’s wrong with us staying on our side and you staying on yours?”

“Foolish human,” Killika answered. “Truly spoken like an ignorant ape that’s never left the safety of his homeland. Your territories house the only bodies of water for many miles. Here is where the streams come together, sharing their bounty with all. The mines of your mountains produce ores and gems of the finest quality. Do you really think your ancestors fought so hard for this place without reason?”

Cherin was silent.

Killika smiled. He turned away, gazing back to Azalea who still lay on the ashen ground, struggling to stay awake. Whatever spell had been cast upon her was powerful indeed. “But no more,” Killika said with sadistic glee. “Soon these territories will belong to the balisekts. With her power, my army will sweep across this land like the Great Blight of old, killing any that stand in our way.”

“Where is your fire demon?” Heeska asked. In truth, he didn’t care what the answer was. The more they distracted the Balisekt Lord, the better chance they gave Azalea to break free of her spell.

Killika spun around again, eyeing Heeska angrily. “Ah yes, the traitor,” he said. Switching to his native tongue, Killika began to hiss and click furiously. Heeska responded in the same. Though Zehlyr couldn’t understand a word they said, he could clearly detect Heeska’s usual smugness. The conversation ended with a hard right hook from Killika across Heeska’s face, followed by a series of sounds that reminded Zehlyr of an angry snake.

“What of Meadowgold?” Viyana asked. It was incredibly hard for her to inquire of this monster like a beggar, but worry for her people was heavier than her pride.

Killika’s head snapped to the right and he gave a coy smile. “Do not worry, lady of the humans, your precious tribe has been spared…for now. Moreover, as for my fire demon, it is still in Stonemouth, ensuring that those puny dwarves behave themselves. Not that it matters. More will be coming very soon.”

“What is that thing?” Viyana asked. “What manner of sorcery brought such a beast into this world?”

Killika looked upon Azalea once again. “The same kind which brought me her.”

Zehlyr gasped. “What are you saying?!” he demanded. He realized his tone and brashness were foolish, but rage compelled him to defy his reason. Even if it meant a sword through the heart, he had to know, once and for all. “What did you do to her?”

Killika laughed maniacally. “Has she not told you?” he inquired.

“She doesn’t remember,” Heeska said. “She remembers nothing before your ritual.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting,” Killika said with an evil smile.

“What do you need her for?” Viyana asked.

“Why, to lead me to absolute victory, of course,” Killika answered. “My fire demons are powerful, but they leave nothing but destruction in their wake. When my army conquers these territories, I want to reap the bounties they provide, not turn them to ash. With her power, I can crush those that stand against me without destroying the forest.”

“I…won’t…help…you…” Azalea said weakly. She struggled to get up on her elbows and lift her head to look in his eyes. Her vision was a complete
blur and her head felt as though it was tied to a dwarven blacksmith’s anvil.

Killika looked down at her menacingly. “Oh yes, you will,” he assured. “Get her out of here,” Two of Killika’s soldiers moved in and scooped up the weakened girl by the arms. Like farmers dragging a sack of feed, they pulled her limp body through the burnt trees and across the ashen ground to a point where green things still grew from the soil.

As soon as Azalea’s feet were upon healthy ground once again, she sprang back to life as though startled from a deep sleep. In an instant, her strength was back, she was fully alert, and she could feel her magical powers rushing through her again.

Taken aback, the balisekts lost their grip, allowing her to break free. She lifted her right hand, palm outstretched towards Killika. There was a look of determination and anger on her face, but one of confusion soon replaced it.

Killika laughed. “What’s the matter,
Sorceress of the Wilds
? Are you unable to cast your spell?” The balisekt guards took hold of her arms again, but Killika surprisingly waved them off. “There is no need for that,” he insisted with an eerie calmness. “She will be cooperative from now on.”

“And what makes you so sure of that?” Azalea snapped.

“Your power only works upon living soil,” Killika answered. “The ground here has been rendered absolutely lifeless. No magic of the Lady can touch this earth and you yourself cannot set foot upon it without being robbed of all your energy. We’ll be keeping your friends here, out of your reach, as assurance that you do as requested.”

Zehlyr fought again in vain against the balisekts holding him in place. This was why they had been captured instead of slaughtered. Killika was using Azalea’s compassion against her.

“Why?!” Azalea screamed in frustration. “Why can’t I stand on lifeless ground when others can?! What makes me different?! What did you do to me?!” Confusion and anger became an overwhelming force in her mind. She didn’t understand her powers, she never had. Like it or not, the life-power of the forest was hers to command. Growing things sprang to life and thrived by her will. This was the first time her power over the forest had failed.

The balisekt lord’s forehead raised. “You don’t remember?” he asked.

Azalea shook her head. It pained Zehlyr to see her looking so weak and helpless in front of such a ruthless monster.

“No,” Azalea said softly. She dropped to her knees, her hands landing on her legs with her palms open. Stripped of her power and unable to save her
friends, pleading was all she had left. “Please, tell me what I’ve become. Tell me why I’m this way.”

Killika’s face grew stern. He took slow steps towards Azalea, each sending up a puff of ash into the air. “You want to know what you are?” he asked coldly.

Azalea nodded. “Please, just tell me,” she begged. Knowledge was now worth the cost of her pride. “What am I?”

Killika leaned in low, keeping his body just within the ruined ground but close enough to have his face a foot away from hers. “You’re mine,” he said coldly. “That’s all you need to worry about.”

Azalea seethed in anger, but made no move or sound.

Killika stood again, marching slowly back towards the rest of his army with his hands behind his back. “Now, you will accompany my army south, into the elven territories. We attacked Stonemouth with surprise on our side, but it is safe to assume the other tribes have received word of my victory here today. They are likely forming ranks and preparing for war as we speak.”

“And what would you have me do?” Azalea asked through gritted teeth.

“My army is large, but not large enough to fight four more wars in succession,” Killika answered. “You will use your power to ensure my victories with minimal casualties. Your power over
the forest will clear my path and destroy anyone foolish enough to be standing in it.”

“And if I refuse?” Azalea followed up. It was true her friends were being held on land she had no power over, but Killika would be leading his troops to battle and wouldn’t be here to issue commands if she were to disobey.

With his back to her, Killika slowly extended his arms out to his sides and knelt on the ground. He turned his palms down as a dim aura of deep red began to radiate on the surface of his scaly skin. Below him, a bright orange glow began to shine from under the ash. It was as though a long dead campfire was coming back to life. The glow spread, quickly covering the barren ground until Killika was standing at the edge of a large, smoldering circle.

“If you refuse, then I’ll feed your friends to my pets,” he said. Killika slammed his hands down on the ground, sending a tremor through the earth. Many of the soldiers lost their balance, including the ones holding Zehlyr in place. His hands were free, but Zehlyr couldn’t bring himself to move. He simply watched, his eyes wide with terror and awe.

The ground at the center of the circle began to split open, revealing a mouth of white, hot flame. From the depths of the pit sprang a long, blackened arm with four slender claws. The demonic hand slammed into the ashen soil, pulling the rest of the creature out of the ground. It was very similar to the beast that attacked Stonemouth, but slightly smaller. Roughly five feet tall on all fours, it had a long, feline-like body and a broad snout. A long, glowing tail whipped back and forth behind it, making the flames at its tip dance in the wind it created.

Three more creatures pulled their way out onto the ground, both identical to the first. The four monsters snarled and barked loudly, circling around the ruined forest like wild cats patrolling their territory. Zehlyr didn’t know what to think. Killika had effortlessly brought these beasts into creation. Was there any limit to his power?

Killika shouted something in his native tongue and his soldiers made their way out of the woods towards the south. Killika himself moved towards the beasts he’d summoned. His hand rested on the head of one and stroked its coal-like skin. The fire monster purred like a docile kitten. “I’m afraid the girl will be coming with me now,” he said to none of his prisoners in particular. “You all will stay here with my pets. Attempt to escape and they will tear you to shreds.” He looked at Azalea again. “Of course, is she fails to cooperate, they’ll do that anyway.”