Jump to content


Soul Mateys, Part 14


  • Please log in to reply
No replies to this topic

#1 Guest_Laufey_and_Ophidia_*

Posted 04 November 2004 - 11:29 PM

Soul Mateys


Part Fourteen

Dekaras scampered away quietly into the edge of the tangled wood. The Slayer suddenly turned and faced Andorel.

The boy cannot harm me. He made a rustling, chittering noise that Andorel suspected was laughter. Your help has made him stronger, but not strong enough.

Dekaras appeared behind the monster and leapt on to his back, thrusting his dagger gleefully downwards to the back of the slayer’s head, aiming for the point where the parasitic tentacles attached. It slid straight off, leaving the boy nursing a wrenched wrist. He staggered back and crouched warily in the grass, ready to strike or flee.

Told you so. Bhaal said smugly. I like it here, and I am not leaving. You cannot harm me either, for you are not part of this world, half-orc.

Andorel clenched his fists hopelessly. He knew the God was right. To have come this far, and fail? That just...wasn’t right. It shouldn’t end like this, it’s just not right! Then, he noticed the lad press one finger to his lips, out of sight of the Slayer. Then, he disappeared into the blackness again. What’s he doing now? Andorel drew his sword, and sighed dramatically.

“I guess so. Poor Vaddy. He, uh, was my friend.”

He will not die- yet. Once he is fully mine, he will be magnificent- the silent murderer in the shadows.

“I think he already is one, sort of.” Andorel replied. He tried to spot Dekaras in the wood, but couldn’t see him anywhere. What are you doing, Vaddy? I hope it’s not as stupid as your usual plans...

Not in this way. His soul is so troubled, so dark! It already had emptiness, ready and waiting to be used.

“You don’t know him at all!” Andorel protested hotly.

Do you realise he invited me in? He knew, deep in his black heart, that I could grant him the one murder he has wanted for most of his existence. The one he craves for, yearns for with all his...life.

“You don’t half talk bollocks for a dead God. I’ve no idea what you’re talkin’ about.” Andorel said, trying his best to be a good actor. Hurry up, Vaddy!

I think you do, my son. You see what others...

Dekaras suddenly appeared behind his adult form, and plunged his dagger deep into the assassin’s arm.

The Slayer screeched, its tendrils waving in sudden pain. What are you DOING?

“You said you couldn’t be harmed,” The boy said calmly, “So I hurt myself. I’d rather be dead than have you sucking my soul out. I was just showing you I mean it.”

You would never destroy your own soul! I know your heart, and you’d rather live as a killer than die in freedom.

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.” Dekaras replied, moving his dagger slowly towards the chest.

I know a lie when I see one. You’ll never...

Dekaras smiled in triumph, and stabbed down into his double’s ribcage. Bright blood spurted and bubbled over his fingers. “Vaddy, you idiot!” Andorel cried, running forwards towards the assassin. The boy looked up at Andorel, smiled in gratitude- and vanished. The adult Dekaras murmured quietly, a red bubble forming on his lips.

You FOOL! The Slayer screeched in agony, unfastening its tendrils from the bleeding man. You ruin your own destiny. Such glorious slaughter could have been ours. The tentacles shrank back into the beast’s head. You cannot be rid of me though, I shall always be here. Bhaal laughed, a gurgling raucous laugh, and suddenly ran off into the tangled and black forest.

Dammit, can’t go after him now- I’ll get lost, and Vaddy’ll die. Andorel sighed in exasperation. What kind of Goddamned stupid plan was that, anyway?

He looked at the dying assassin. His breath gurgled, and a damp darkness was spreading through his black shirt. Andorel placed his hand on Dekaras’ chest, and concentrated in that special way for the second time. Blue light surged from his hand.

Dekaras coughed and spluttered, and his eyes snapped open. There was still a trickle of dark blood running from his mouth, and he still looked gruesomely pale and ill, but his eyes were calm and completely alert. “Andorel,” he whispered. “Thank you, my friend.”

“Any time, Vaddy. Any time.”

“Now go on. This is not a place you want to linger for long.”

“I’m not leavin’ before I know you’ll be OK!”

“I will be, now. Besides, you are needed elsewhere. Wake up, Andorel. We both need you to.”

“Huh? Wake up? But I’m not..” Andorel broke off. The dark forest was closing in around him and his wounded friend, but it was blurring, changing colour. The black branches disappeared, turning into a pretty, pretty...


Blue. Pretty blue. Andorel blinked, his eyes watering painfully. The beautiful blueness was right before him, and then a fluffy white cloud drifted across it and he knew that he was looking up at a clear morning sky. The sun wasn’t too high yet, which was probably a good thing. His eyes felt as if he hadn’t blinked much lately. Treetops were visible now, on the edge of his vision, surrounding the sky - oh, right. The forest clearing where he and Vaddy had... Oh SHIT! Vaddy! Andorel rolled over, his ribs painfully nudged by a jutting out rock as he landed on his stomach. It was good pain though, real pain, not like something out of one of those weird dreams. His legs wouldn’t quite obey at first, and breath was whistling painfully into his lungs as if he had almost forgotten how to draw it, but he laboriously staggered to his feet, his eyes anxiously scanning the surroundings as he did so.

There was their stuff, more or less scattered about since they hadn’t exactly made a proper camp last night, there was the old drying blood in brown flaking streaks and wobbly jelly-like lumps, and oh yeah, there was the corpse of that poor sod of a mage, and there... Andorel’s head hurt as he tried to move, and for a few seconds he almost blacked out, but the sensation passed as he got his legs working properly again, and his movements got less and less jerky. By the time he knelt by his prone friend, he still had a bit of a headache and a dry mouth, but he was more or less back to normal.

Dekaras didn’t seem quite so lucky. The assassin was still tied up of course, Andorel had done a good job with those knots to keep him from getting loose by accident, and it looked pretty painful. His breathing sounded disturbingly rapid and shallow, and his colour wasn’t too good, but his eyes opened as the half-orc approached and a faint smile crossed his lips. “Hello, Andorel. Good to see you decided to join the world of the living again. Now, would you mind getting me loose? This position is starting to get a bit uncomfortable...”

“Yeah, ‘cos somebody had the bright idea of me tyin’ him up,” Andorel said, even as he started slicing through the ropes. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“I believe we both are. Remember those vines?” Andorel nodded. He did, and more than that. It wasn’t just him who had passed something bad along to his friend, something had passed the other way as well. “Yeah. Sort of wish I didn’t, but I guess it’s a good thing I do.” I think it’s a good thing I saw all of what I saw, ‘cos there are some things I think you wouldn’t have told me even to save yer life. He cut the last of the ropes, then paused. “Vaddy?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really glad you came after me, and came back with me.” And with that, he gathered his friend into his arms, lifted him clear off his feet, and gave him a hug hard enough to make his ribs creak. Dekaras froze with complete surprise for a moment, his feet futilely trying to reach the ground. It wouldn’t work - he was helpless to move legs or arms properly after having been tied up for so long. Eventually he had to give up.

“Thank you, Andorel,” he wheezed, managing to move his hand just enough to pat the half-orc on the back. “I am happy to see you alive and well too. Now, there is just one small favour I would like to ask of you...”

“What’s that?”

“Let me breathe?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” Andorel let go of the man straight away, and he dropped back onto the grass, legs far too wobbly to support him. “Ah crap!” Andorel exclaimed, and grabbed Dekaras by the scruff of the neck and hauled him upright again. He dangled in the half-orc’s grasp like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“Andorel? Could you just...put me down, please? I think I shall simply sit for a short while. Until I ca...” Dekaras stopped. “Until there is a need for me to stand, that is.” He rubbed his arms briskly. He had never realised before now just how irritating pins-and-needles could be.

“Yeah, ok. I better deal with that poor sod over there, and get this camp workin’.”

Andorel set about the simple tasks of sorting out the campsite. First of all, he built up the ashy fire, getting it burning merrily again, and then forced Dekaras to sit by it and get some warmth. Next, he decided to deal with the mage’s...bits. Huh, got no spade, so I s’pose I better burn him...

“Andorel?”

...plenty of windfall wood about, so that’s no problem. Better do it a bit downwind of camp...

“Andorel!”

“Yeah?”

“It would be wise to search the body of the dead man to see if he was carrying any important documents that will help us find Edwin and Nalia.”

“What? You know how I feel about looting dead folk, it ain’t right!”

“Right and wrong have nothing to do with it, in this case. This is simple necessity.” Dekaras lurched upright and tottered over to join the half-orc. His legs were at least starting to pay attention to his directions now, he observed, and his fingers were working to some extent at least. “I shall check for myself. I have a certain familiarity with mage robes.”

“Yeah,” replied Andorel, sympathetically, “You do.”

There was a brief and noisy silence in the clearing. Dekaras looked away from his friend, and knelt by the corpse- one of the larger parts of it, at least.

“Vaddy?”

“Yes?”

“What the Hell actually happened in that dream-thing?”

“The Bhaaltaint was too much for me to handle, as I said,” Dekaras said. He remained bent over the corpse of the mage, not looking at Andorel. “Had I been able to cope with it better, I would not have endangered you the way I did, and I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am about that.”

“What are you talkin’ about, Vaddy? He’s a God! Sure, a dead, annoying old jerk of a God, but still a God. Why would I expect you to manage any better than ya did?”

“But...you do.”

Andorel groaned. “Yeah, ‘cos I’ve had him rantin’ and ravin’ in my dreams since before I was born, even if I didn’t always know who he was. I’m sorta used to the old bugger by now, and I’ve learnt how to fight him. You haven’t. I mean, would you expect a little kiddie to toddle off on his own and slay a dragon? Hang on, don’t tell me - you would, if the kiddie was you. Don’t be so bloody hard on yourself, mate.”

The assassin turned around, raising an eyebrow. “A...novel way of putting it,” he said. “I hadn’t considered that aspect.”

“Yeah, I could tell. So, Bhaal made you go nuts, I got that much before. Why did I pass out like that though?”

“I have formulated a theory about that, actually,” Dekaras said. “As the Bhaaltaint crossed over to me from you, I believe something passed in the other direction as well. You may have noticed by now that I am not one of the most carefree of persons.”

“No kiddin’?”

“And it appears,” Dekaras went on after giving Andorel an annoyed look, “that I passed on some of that tendency towards melancholia to you. As for the sarcasm, I hope that it was your own.”

“Melly...oh, you mean when you get all worked up and hurtin’ over things you blame yerself for? Yeah, that was pretty bad. Never really felt like that before. Didn’t like it much either.”

“And so you were overwhelmed by these unfamiliar emotions,” Dekaras said. He had moved on to a second part of the dead mage by now, and examining it carefully. Luckily, it didn’t seem as if the sight of blood was as dangerous to him as it had been. “That was why I tried to use the connection between the two of us, to make contact with you and help you snap out of it. But it seems that these things always go both ways. When the stress increased, we both got jolted back towards my soul instead. I cannot imagine that was an especially pleasant experience for you.”

Andorel suddenly grinned. “I dunno, Vaddy - you were a really cute kid, ya know. Violent, but cute.” The expression on his friend’s face was enough to make him guffaw loudly, but he soon calmed down. “Didn’t care much for the scenery though. How come you never told me about how you were...”

“Because I really don’t care for discussing my past,” Dekaras swiftly cut him off. “As an assassin, I have been trained to protect my privacy, so that my secrets can’t be used against me.”

“And that’s the only reason, is it?”

The assassin paused for a moment. “The past is dead, and it is better off buried,” he quietly said. “I see no purpose in trotting out my old corpses for general scrutiny. The fewer people that know about these things, the better. Especially since Bhaal tried to use them in order to control me.”

Andorel frowned. “Yeah...he wanted you real bad, it seemed.”

“Not just me, both of us, preferably together. He spoke to me, offering me advice on how to reach you, actually.”

“Huh? But I thought he’d want me dead?”

“So did I. But it appears it isn’t quite that simple.” Dekaras looked as serious as Andorel had ever seen him. “Bhaal means to rise again, and for that to happen all of his children must perish. But that will happen much sooner if the stronger ones can be made to eliminate their weaker siblings, by temptation or coercion. You are a hightly skilled warrior, and I am specialized in killing people. Together, as his puppets, we could serve him very well indeed. So he prefers both of us alive, for now.” The assassin hauled a scrap of paper out of the dead wizard’s sleeve, and looked at it with some satisfaction. “As I thought...I had already noticed that this man’s robes are the exact same hue and cut as those of the mage who transformed Edwin and Nalia. This letter confirms that there is a connection - it seems this is her brother, and her partner.”

“So we go and find her,” Andorel said. “And then what?”

“And then, my dear Andorel,” Dekaras said with a thin smile, “I believe I have a very vested interest in helping you deal with a certain ex-god of Murder. I really resent anybody meddling with my soul, you know.”

Andorel nodded, feeling briefly cold. Inside his head, in the deepest recesses of his own soul, he could feel something stirring in response to his friend’s words. Something old, and patient. “He ran off, but he didn’t go away, did he?”

The assassin shook his head. There was an odd gleam in his dark eyes, part concern, but part exhilaration. “No. He retreated, but the taint remains. No, I still share your position, Andorel, with all that it entails. And he wanted to make certain that I will remember that. Observe this.” He picked up the dead man’s water skin, and poured a little water on the ground. “Water, as you see. And now...” Long, thin fingers gently passed across the leather water skin, and where they touched, there was a faint red glow. Silently, Dekaras turned the water skin over again, and a red stream with an unmistakable coppery sharp smell seeped into the dry ground. “I wish I could tell you that was wine,” Dekaras said. “At least then I might be able to make a profit from it, but this appeals to Bhaal’s taste for melodrama, I suppose.”

Dekaras smiled again, a brief and mostly mirthless smile. “So, as you can see, this is far from over...my brother.”





0 user(s) are reading this topic

0 members, 0 guests, 0 anonymous users

Skin Designed By Evanescence at IBSkin.com