Chapter 41 ish
November 6th, 2022
Zechariah sat in the cold darkness of his cell. His thoughts refused to still as his mind was racing constantly. With nothing but the ever presence of the cold abyss to keep him company, his mind scratched desperately at any thought with which to occupy his attention. Try as he might, he could not keep it from fleeing from reason into the most fanciful corners of his mind. Sometimes he escaped to a peaceful corner of fancy and he was able to rest. More often than not however, his eyes and ears were straining for any sound of movement, for a cold breath, a deathful whisper. His only solace was his brief, albeit quiet, visits with Krukgunga as well as his now daily visits to the gardens. Though he was bound at all times, the fresh air and the sun did wonders for his spirits. He also attempted to learn all he could about the guards of House Sundman without attempting to raise suspicions. He'd learned little, as the guards were tight tongued. Through observation and eavesdropping though, he had learned that Lady Lelia seemed to have a soft spot for the socially neglected. Her household exclusively consisted of male human guards, and mix of other races as servants. It was strange to see such a myriad of people living under the same roof. At first it struck him as odd that Lelia would only employ human men as her guard but concluded that it was likely due to the poor respect and acceptance that the wider populace had. Civilians would listen to the orders of a human guard, but an Elvish or Merr guard? Zechariah had never heard of such a thing. Occasionally, as he had witnessed in Stormridge, people may employ the occasional 'demi' species as thugs or escorts. However any profession which asserted any level of authority over a human, was a dangerous profession for a Demi. Thus Lelia's servants primarily consisted of Demies, and her guard of men. However, Zechariah noted that not one among them was Utharian. All of Lelia's guard were Ghabar Rijali. In almost every way, Lelia created as safe a haven as she could for people who were disadvantaged. It began to make sense why she was ostracized in the courts.
"She's a foolish prude that one."
"I can't really comment on her prudishness. But she doesn't seem foolish to me." Zechariah answered. "That would suggest that she doesn't know the how her choices can hurt her. No...I don't think she's foolish. Just self sacrificial."
"As I said. Foolish. You creatures are always hurting others or yourselves in order to achieve something of 'value' which lasts no more than your span. You're all foolish."
Zechariah started as he shivered. A coldness had fallen upon him. The air felt thicker, the darkness seemed deeper. The presence was heavier and as he raised wide eyes to the darkness, though he could not tell how, he saw it sitting on the floor across from him in his cell. "Guards!" Zechariah yelled as he scrambled away. "Guards! Help!"
The shadow snorted in disdain. "Help? You're more foolish than the rest. How did it come to this? Bound to this worthless fleshling. Well...I know the form of how. And what needs be done to get to the why. But you don't. Not yet."
"What are you? Why do you keep tormenting me! Why do you plague me with horrors!?" Zechariah asked raising his voice in anger. "You've always been torturing me, ever since I was a child! What did I do to deserve this?" Zechariah said taking a few steps towards the creature. His just wrath temporarily banishing his fear.
The shadow rose up slowly, and easily towered over Zechariah, who's fear began to return. "Not 'did', but 'will do', that matters fleshling. Though, I suppose that isn't entirely true. What you did is what has determined what you will do. It is for that reason that we plague you. And we will continue to do so until the time of our Sundering." Zechariah trembled, his spin tingled and every fiber of his being was wracked in fear. Yet he stood his ground, facing this monster before him. "Oh? Little Fleshling has found his spine has he? Thinks he can defy me?" the shadow hissed, his voice as distant as a thousand dying echoes.
"I wont fear you anymore." Zechariah said clenching his fists. "I'm done fleeing from you. I'm doing having you control my life. Stay the fuck away from me!"
"Aaah, there it is. There's the old fire I remember. Not the pleas of a sniveling coward. Commandments made from strength and not fear. Very good little Fleshling. You're finally on the right path as it is anyway." The shadow paused as it looked up and into the distance of the void. "I'm needed in another time. I'll leave you in peace for now. If you become lazy or lose your way, I will return. Don't worry little Fleshling. I'll never truely leave your side. We're connected after all. Connected by a bond that surpasses space and time."
Zechariah stood defiantly until the creature moved away from him. He stood longer still, until the warmth returned, and the air seemed to move once more. Though he could not definitively see that things had returned to normal, he could tell none the less.
A sudden piecing beam of light caused Zechariah to cry out and raise his arms covering his eyes. "Zechariah?" A soft woman's voice sounded from the source of the crippling light. "Are you okay?"
"Mistress Lelia?" Zechariah asked remembering his manners. "Y-yeah. Yeah I'm fine. Thank you. The light is a bit bright."
"My apologies." Lelia said as she shaded the lamp to cause it to glow instead of shine forth.
"What's going on? It's not time for my trial yet is it?" Zechariah asked confused as he blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light. It was dark. Even outside his cell. The sun must already have set.
"No. Come with me. We need to talk." Lelia said before suddenly floating up into the air.
Confused Zechariah stepped out of his cell, to find a large greenish blue tree blocking his way. Furrowing his brow he looked up towards the light that Lelia held, and his eyes suddenly went wide. Perched above him, was Lelia in her priestess garments, sitting daintily in the hand of a giant. An actual giant. "W-what the..." he stammered as he stepped backwards, fear and awe clutching him in equal measure. A very deep guttural grunt came from the giant who looked down at Zechariah with disdain.
"Staring. Rude." said the giant in such a low pitch that Zechariah felt it more in his chest than his ears though he suspected the creature was speaking softly. "Never seen Orc before?"
"You can gawk later Zechariah." Lelia stated as she tossed a bundle of cloth down to him. "Put this on and follow at a distance." She ordered as she turned to the giant orc and nodded her head. The beast grunted in affirmation and began to lumber away, hunching to get through the large doors of the manor.
Zechariah picked up the bundle more than a little bewildered as he stared after the orc who must be, at his fullest un-hunched height, be twenty feet tall at the least. And almost half as wide. His long arms hung down to his knees save for the one in which Lelia was sitting, and his legs which he had blearily mistaken for a tree were thick, tough and looked as though they could kick down the city gates.
Gathering his wits about him, he made to follow Lady Lelia, unfurling the bundle of clothes as he did so. The bundle contained an odd assortment of items. The cloth was a dark cloak that was designed to almost entirely conceal the form of the wearer beneath it's vast folds and included a hood and numerous ties to help keep the cloak tight should it be needed. Inside the cloak, was a pair of shoes. Or slippers. Zechariah wasn't exactly sure what category of foot wear they would fit into. They seemed to be made of soft leather with straps all up the front to keep it well secured to the foot. Yet all around the foot and the souls, was cloth instead of a hard soul. Feeling at the strange footwear, he could tell there was a hard soul hidden beneath the thick cloth. Fitted snuggly between the shoes was a finely crafted thin length of wood, which Zechariah recognized as a Maledict from Lelia's collection, along side a scroll of paper and a small vial.
Utterly confused, but not wanting to let Lelia down or fall behind, he threw on the cloak and secured it around his neck. Inside he found a series of pockets and buckles. He slipped the vial and scroll into a pocket and secured the Maledict into a buckle. Following quickly to catch up, Zechariah hopped on one foot and then the other as he slid his feet into the strange shoes. Not bothering to lace them up at this time, he flung up his hood and made to pursue Lelia at a distance as ordered. As he stepped down the mostly completely dark halls of House Sundman, he couldn't help but notice that he blended into the shadows remarkably well and that his foot falls, though hurried, made for the softest swishing of cloth upon stone with barely a thud to be felt through his foot. He followed her through the halls, the only light coming from her hand as she held the lantern aloft. Leaving the halls they came to the small courtyard before the surrounding walls and gate of the House. Lelia and the Orc made their way confidently towards the gate. Lelia stopped for a moment to speak to the guards, and unsheltered her lamp as she did so. She spoke casually with them, stating that she was going to go for a stroll. She said she would be back by the end of a Fall, and casually shined the light upon both guards as she spoke. Zechariah could see them blink and avert their eyes as she temporarily burned their night vision away. She told them to wait for her return before locking the gates, and then she turned and left the manor grounds.
Zechariah stood for a moment, uncertainty causing him to hesitate. What was she doing? He was no thief or scoundrel. Though... he had done a fair bit of hunting back in Hyran, and knew how to stalk a deer. He hoped that this wasn't so different a task, as he stepped out into the open courtyard. He only had a few moments before the guards regained their night vision, and he had to make use of the advantage Lelia had given him. Why he was hiding from her own guards, was beyond him, but he trusted that Lelia had a good reason for her actions. So, steeling himself and holding his breath, crouching low, he made straight for the gates. He heard the guards talking, idly wondering where she was going. One rubbed his eyes in irritation and the other cleared his throat. He looked around, and his gaze passed right over Zechariah's crouched form, before he relaxed and leaned back against the gate. Zechariah continued on and slipped out into the dark city night.
He followed Lady Lelia for several moments as she wound her way through the city. Occasionally they passed the odd pedestrian. Zechariah was even less concerned about being seen by them for though they oft carried their own torches or candles, they all gave the orc a very wide berth, staring at him in either awe or distrust. Zechariah was able to easily cross over to the other side of the road and remain in the shadows and slip by unseen by the gawking pedestrians. He had to admit, Lelia was an impressive woman. Going for a walk in the night, riding an Orc slave, was certainly an activity that would draw attention to her, and people would certainly ask why. However, that was her business, and the business was intentionally to draw attention to herself, so that Zechariah could pass undetected.
November 7th, 2022
November 7th, 2022
They came to a small but rather wealthy part of town. Not where nobles the very rich lived, but each house was a stand alone structure. Some had walls or fences around them. Some had well kept gardens, others had ornaments. This was where most of the upper class lived. Far enough away from the docks to avoid the stench of the sea, far enough from the slums to avoid the vagabonds, close enough to the nobility that they were easily able to stoke their own egos. There, Lelia approached a house that had a very high wall surrounding it, and who's windows shone with light. At the sound of the approaching Orc, the door opened, and an old wizened man stepped out. It was the Runesmith who had examined Zechariah at the gates several days before. Curious to hear what was being said, Zechariah crept closer. However, he was not able to determine any words of significance. The Orc lowered her, and the Runesmith held out a cane to her. She took the cane and nimbly hopped down from the Orc's hand. She limped using the cane and looked over her shoulder, eyes searching the darkness. Her eyes did not rest upon him, but she gestured with a finger to circle around to the back of the house, before she limped inside, the door closing behind her. The big orc sighed and turned around, sitting down and leaning against the wall. It adopted a very human pose, one leg down on the ground, the other up. One hand resting in his lap the other resting upon his upright knee. He leaned his head back against the wall and looked up to the heavens, watching the skys. It was so strange, seeing a monster from his childhood, horror stories told to keep kids from wandering too far intot he woods or about by night. Orcs would gobble stray children up, and suck the marrow from their bones. Yet here one sat, as he idle plucked a fair sized rock from the ground and began to scratch at it with a large fingernail, carving into the rock as though it was clay.
Zechariah followed Lelia's instructions and crept around to the back of the house. Carefully making his way through the rather unkempt vegetation as quietly as he could. He picked a spot where his back was too a wall, and he could mostly see the backyard and door, and settled down to wait. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long, as the back door opened up, and Lelia hobbled out. She stood there looking around before quietly calling out "Zechariah?"
"I'm here." He said stepping out of the shadows and looking around.
"Thank Aleen. I wasn't sure you had gotten past the guards or had kept up." She said as she spotted him and visibly relaxed.
"What's going on?" Zechariah asked. "What's with the almost literal cloak and dagger?" He asked opening up his cloak and showing the equipment that she had given him.
"Good, good." She said stepping forward and taking up the wand she had given him. "I'm afraid that, there has been a development, and that we need your assistance."
"We?" He asked, "What development?"
She sighed and hobbled over to a small stone bench and sat upon it. "Gerb and I. And Nevakko I suppose."
"Nevakko?" Zechariah asked not knowing the name.
"My Captain." She said nodding. "And the development is...well...there's no easy way to say this really. None that doesn't sound childish to my ears at least." She played around with the wand as she carefully considered her words, and Zechariah stood there patiently. With her eyes down she said, "I need your help with killing a man."
Zechariah cocked his head quizzically and blinked several times in rapid succession. "Why not just get Nevakko to do it. Or hell, Gerb'll probably do it for free."
"I'm afraid it's not quite that simple. I need you to help Gerb and Nevakko assassinate a man named Sott. He's an informant for the underground, and quite upsettingly, holds quite some power over Gerb and consequently, myself. Power I cannot allow a man I do not know, to keep."
"What does he have on Gerb?" Zechariah asked
Lelia scoffed quietly to herself. "It doesn't take a lot with a man like Gerb does it?" She said shaking her head before looking up at Zechariah. "He knows who Gerb is. He helped cover Gerb's escape and was tortured for it. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like Sott is willing to work with Gerb peacefully. He's ordered Gerb to accept a contract or...you know... he'll turn Gerb in."
"How did he find Gerb to begin with?" Zechariah asked incredulously.
"I may have inadvertently sent Gerb to him. I ordered Gerb to find his family by any means necessary, and to bring them into slavery to myself, so that I could protect them from potential retribution when Zalud finds out Gerb is back in the city. Gerb went to some of his old contacts in the underground, and found Sott to be less than accommodating." Lelia explained.
"So we have to kill him before he gets Gerb killed." Zechariah concluded. "But...I'm not assassin Mistress. I'm not even a soldier. I'm barely a successful farmer!" Zechariah said laughing wryly to himself. "What assistance can I give?"
Lelia held up the wand, handle towards him. "I need you be my proxy, and cast magic on my behalf."
"I...It's...what?" Zechariah stammered as he took a step back. "I'm sorry. I'm...I'm not a wizard Mistress. I've never used magic before in my life. And I'm not attuned as you said all Elicitors had to be. How can I use magic?"
"I know this is a lot to take in. I had planned on having you attuned after the courts and thoroughly examining your hand. Unfortunately, things did not progress as I had planned. As they rarely do. So... we're making due with what we have."
"An admirable thing to be sure but I'm not prepared to be using magic on an assassination attempt. Don't get me wrong, do I want to try to use magic? Sure I do! Every kid dreams of tossing fire around at a whim. But so do they dream of being a soldier, and dreams are nothing like reality. Especially with how dangerous magic is! You yourself said that..."
"Zechariah." Lelia said cutting him off and trying to bring him back to focus. "I know. Trust me. I know." She scooted over and patted the bench next to her. "Sit down. And don't worry. I think you're already far more attuned to the Aether than you may realize."
Zechariah sat next to her running a hand through his dirty and matted hair. He hadn't bathed in a long time and was conscious of his stench. Lelia however seemed not to notice it at all. "What do you mean?" Zechariah asked. "This?" He said turning his left hand up and exposing his scars to the soft light.
"Yes. That and other things." Lelia said opening his cloak and taking out the scroll and potion. "It first struck me when I was in your mind. In that empty space." Lelia shook her head thinking back on it. She fidgeted with a ribbon of her gown as she pondered it some more, and Zechariah was once again reminded of his admiration of this woman. She had faced a demon, been tortured by it, crippled by it, battled it, and yet she still remained focused and determined to step forward. "Memories are never like that. Someone tampered with your mind Zechariah. Someone powerful, with an intimate knowledge of the Soul and Psycker magic. It might have been that demon. It might have been something or someone else. I don't know."
"What are you saying? What does that mean?" Zechariah asked.
"I think, whoever did whatever it is they did to you, they knew you were special somehow. Perhaps they knew you would attune easily to the Aether. Perhaps they feared what you might become, or perhaps they tried to keep you a secret. I don't know. The why and what for, I have no idea. But I suspect they burned away your memories to hide or hinder you." She popped the cork off the small vial, and a pungent odor of wet spice and thunder wafted forth.
"What is that?" Zechariah asked concerned that he was likely about to be drinking whatever strange concoction this was.
"This...is an Aether potion." She said handing it to Zechariah. "It's a rare potion that is quite highly coveted by Elicitors who wish to empower their use of Aether for a short time. We draw Aether directly and channel it through our Maledicts to limit the Aetheric Fallout. However, one can imbibe such a potion as this, and instead of drawing on the Aether directly form it's elemental plane, we are able to draw upon the Aether in our bodies, or combine it with raw Aether, giving us a temporary, very potent boost in power. It is toxic, and does expediate the Maledicition, but can be paramount in winning a battle against another Elicitor."
"Well that's all good and fascinating but I can't use Aether. Or, at the very least, I don't know how. Lelia...um...Mistress. I'm not an Elicitor." Zechariah said in protest.
Lelia simply handed him the vial. "Not yet you aren't. If you drink this potion, for a short time, you will be."
"Just like that?" he asked in complete disbelief. "I just drink this strange potion and suddenly I'm an Elicitor."
"Just like that." Lelia said, holding his gaze steadily.
Zechariah hesitated, searching her eyes, but couldn't find any answers there. It didn't seem like it should be that easy, but...what choice did he have? If he refused, could Lelia find another Elicitor to assist them with assassinating Sott? Perhaps but, one that she could trust? No. Likely not. She needed his help, and wouldn't try to harm him after doing so much to try and save him. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he quickly lifted the vial to his lips, and downed the potion.
It tasted foul, in a strangely pleasant way. Like one might taste a powerful alcohol that is bitter and sour, but ultimately pleasant as it warms the body. This didn't warm the body. It burned it from the inside out. As he swallowed the potion, he could feel every muscle in his mouth and throat begin to cramp and spasm violently. He tried to scream but only gurgled hoarsely as his throat convulsed. As it flowed into his stomach, his body was wracked in cramps and he could feel lightning in his veins. It burned through every part of his body, twisting and burning as it went. It flowed into his head and his vision exploded into a thousand brilliant colors and for a brief moment, he could see everything. He saw as clear as day, in everything and through everything though it was cloudy as though looking through tear filled eyes. He could see the ground but more, he could see through it. He saw the depths of the dirt, the foundations of the house, a cellar, and further still to the foundations of I'athos, a vast cave crawling below. He saw three forms watching him with curiosity. Three shadows that grinned at him.
Steadily, his vision faded and then there was nothing but darkness.
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