KGWrites

James

Sea Lords’ Hall of Records, The Rivermouth Port, Free City of Blueholdt

“James! I think I’ve found something!” Meghan’s excited voice wrenched James’ mind out of the now familiar haze that had settled over it. He spun in his chair to where his friend was hurriedly waving him over, practically bouncing with excitement in her own seat.

Standing quickly, James crossed to her, leaning down over her shoulder to read the text she gestured to in the open book before her.

“Set within the centre of the great wetlands, the Evellien city of Aethril was a centre of commerce and trade between Evellien and Dwarven peoples. When the schism came, the city’s riches allowed it to become the centre of one of the three new Evellien kingdoms.” He read, scanning the page quickly. He looked to Meghan, who grinned.

“Certainly sounds like a “Market” to me.” She reasoned. James looked back to the page, that same excitement building in his chest that he could see on her face.

“It does.” He agreed. “The ‘great wetlands’? Any ideas?”

Meghan hummed thoughtfully, tapping her chin. Then she pushed the book aside, moving it off the top of the map of the region they had spread across the table.

“The realm of Fallham, north of here. I’ve never been but I’ve heard the city is built at the centre of swamps and lakes, that its made up of canals and waterways.” She opined, pointing to the map.

North of Blueholdt lay a darkened patch of forests, cut through by ribbons of rivers that twisted and turned through lakes. At the centre of the web of water was the marker of a city. Fallham.

Letting out a long breath, James nodded. It made sense, just like Aldiron, Fallham was likely built on the ruins of the Evellien city. Or it was at least nearby it. There was the slight possibility of course that they were jumping at nothing, they only had two days left before Darrin left the city and they would need to leave too. But this still felt more tangible than anything else they’d found in their research.

Something twisted at the back of his mind, and he tilted his head, trying to recall a distant, hazy memory, a sentence he’d brushed over in another tome.

“Fallham was mentioned in something I read. A realm reclaimed when humans started venturing out from Gruraith and into the world. It mentioned some other places too.” He muttered, causing Meghan to turn to face him.

“Do you still have the book?” She asked hurriedly. James crossed to his pile of tomes and quickly sifted through it, but he sighed in frustration at what he found.

“No luck. Must have put it back.” He sighed. Meghan cursed quietly before lifting her head to him again.

“Go find one of the lorekeepers, see if they know where it went, or better still, if they still have it out.” She commanded, gesturing off into the shadowy stacks. James nodded, already moving. But before he disappeared into the darkness of the rest of the library, he turned back to face her.

“Great work Meghan. You’re brilliant.”

She scoffed out a laugh, already returning her attention to the book she’d found the passage in. “I know.” She joked back as James disappeared into the shadows.

Away from the fireplace, James’ only source of light came from dusty pale streaks of sunlight filtering in from windows high above the stacks of books. Silence descended over the space as he moved away from the crackling fire.

He moved through the silence for a minute or so before emerging into a wide aisle that ran the length of the hall of records. Tables were set up down the centre of the aisle, with lanterns set up ready for anyone to study at them as needed.

Light glowed further up the aisle, at the hall’s central desk, where the lorekeepers watched over the space from. It sat at the centre of a crossroads of wide aisles akin to the one James walked up now. A tall wooden square that allowed the lorekeepers to move behind it, keeping books and scrolls secured. James could make out the figure of one of the lorekeepers, sitting in a chair within the space, their back to him. Next to them on the desk was a stack of books, which James noted with relief he recognised a number of.

“Sorry to be a pain after you’ve just sorted these. But I need to grab one of them again.” He said cheerily as he reached the desk and began sorting through the pile. The lorekeeper said nothing, the back of his bald head not even turning towards James. Which wasn’t out of the ordinary, James had found them all insistent upon silence to the point of frustration. They only acknowledged your presence when they needed to and spoke even more rarely than that.

Ignoring the silent figure, James returned his attention to the pile of books, moving through them until he came across a thick tome with a deep red cover. From The Village to The Kingdoms: An Account of the Growth of Human Lands after the Evellien Fall. A mouthful of a title, and a mammoth of a book, it alone had taken James most of a day to clear. He hoped it wouldn’t take that long again.

“Got what I need. Thank you.” James spoke again, looking up towards the lorekeeper once more. Still no response came. James felt an icy tingle run across his body. Something was wrong.

The silence was too silent. Not even the rustle of paper or occasional coughs from the other users of the hall could be heard in the space.

And this man was too still.

Tucking the book under one arm, James reached out to shake the man’s shoulder, praying he was simply an extremely quiet sleeper.

At his touch, the lorekeeper’s head lulled to the side, revealing to James a pair of blank, staring eyes and a distended, bulging neck.

Broken neck. Quick kill too.

“Shit.” James breathed, making every effort to stay calm. He wished he was wearing his mother’s sword, but it was still leaned next to his chair back at their study area. And his bow was still on the Dawnrunner.

Taking a quick step back from the desk, James scanned the shadows around him, searching for an assassin waiting to strike. But he found nothing. Whoever had done this, they were gone from here.

But if they weren’t here…

Meghan!

James took off at a sprint, dashing back down the aisles, weaving between bookshelves. A panicked dread was settling in his chest like an iron weight. One that only got worse as he nearly tripped over another dead lorekeeper.

This one was a woman, and it hadn’t been a quick snap of the neck that killed her. Instead, deep bloody claw marks were carved across her chest, causing a sticky dark pool to begin spreading around her.

“Not just some normal fucker then.” James whispered to himself as he carried on past her. He tried not to imagine what was stalking the shelves around them, not to get lost in dread and to simply prepare for whatever he found at the other end. Which he hoped would be Meghan, just waiting for him.

As he reached the last row of bookshelves that blocked him from the flickering firelight of their little private space though, James knew that that hope was too much to ask the gods for.

The same cloying silence had descended over the space. Even the snapping and crackling of the firewood was drowned out.

Dropping into a low crouch, James crept around the end of the bookcase, getting his first look at the space beyond.

And the monster that stood within it.

The creature was almost impossibly tall, and gangly. In the flickering firelight, shadows danced across its uneven, gnarled skin almost serving to hide the full shape of it from James. Its skin was hairless, sickly yellow and mottled, and its fingers ended in long, sharp claws.

James knew it instantly, a vivid memory from his mother’s stories, a monster that had kept a much younger James awake for many nights, fearing it was hiding in the shadows of his wardrobe, or beneath his bed. The Shapechanger Demon.

The Other Face.

It didn’t face James, instead focusing entirely on the fact that it held Meghan by the throat. She was limp in its grasp, her eyes bulging and bloodshot and her breathing barely noticeable.

But she was still breathing at least.

As James watched, his own breath caught in his throat, the flesh around The Other Face’s hand on Meghan’s throat began to shift and change. Darkening to brown and shrinking slightly but maintaining the grip. The skin tone matched Meghan’s own perfectly. James knew what he was seeing, what it was doing to Meghan. It was stealing her, disguising itself as her.

No you fucking don’t!

Dashing from cover, James aimed and threw the heavy tome at the monster. It connected heavily with its wrist, just above where its flesh was changing. The force of the impact caused The Other Face’s grip to slacken, and Meghan dropped from its grasp, landing like a limp ragdoll on the floor.

The impact seemed to ripple up the monster’s body and it moved in waves, its head turning lazily to regard James with dark voids of eyes, pinpricked by red and white irises and horizontally slit pupils. It had no mouth of any sort, but its thin slits of nostrils flared at the interruption.

James dived forwards, arm outstretched, moving for the sword still leaned in its scabbard against the table he had been working at. But The Other Face moved too.

And it was faster.

Bringing its arm up in a flash, it slammed the back of its hand into James’ chin. Light exploded behind his eyes and he felt himself lift up into the air. He hung there, weightless for a moment before his back slammed back down atop one of the long tables. The impact was bone-shaking, driving the air from his lungs as pain burned across his back.

The Other Face wasted no time in following up on its prey. Kicking out it sent the sword bouncing away across the floor, far from James. Then it leapt upwards, clinging onto the bookshelves and darting across them, its long limbs gripping and pulling with a spiderlike expertise.

Just as James managed to catch his breath again from the impact, preparing to roll back to his feet, the creature struck again.

Pushing off the bookshelf, it plummeted down towards James, landing above him like a cat with a mouse, pinning him between its arms.

It hung above him, its head tilting from side to side as those black eyes studied him. James could have sworn he saw amusement flash through them, along with a predatory glee.

James drove his knee upwards, slamming it into The Other Face’s side. On anything else, the blow would have driven the breath from them, forced them to retreat. On The Other Face though, it was like driving his knee into soft sand. The skin and muscle beneath the blow simply rippled and stretched around him. It didn’t even seem to register that it had been hit at all.

It lifted its hand up into view, extending a long claw from its fingertip. Then it stabbed it downwards, biting deep into the meat of James’ right shoulder. He screamed in pain and The Other Face responded by shivering in pleasure above him, lifting its other hand to repeat the process on the other shoulder.

Beneath it, James knew only one thing. He had to get it off him.

With a cry of equal parts determination and anger, James gripped the edge of the table and rolled. The sudden movement tipped the entire table sideways and sent both man and demon sprawling across the floor in front of the fireplace. The Other Face’s claw tore free of James’ shoulder as it tumbled away from him, drawing another pained cry from him and leaving a long splash of blood following in his wake as he rolled to a stop.

It recovered quickly again though, rolling its entire body to bring its limbs back beneath itself. Its gaze remained fixed to James even as it rolled though, its entire being seeming to rotate unnaturally around its unmoving head.

Then it scuttled forwards on all fours again, eager to close the gap to its wounded prey.

James was ready this time though.

Sweeping his hand out, he scooped ashes from the fireplace and tossed them quickly towards The Other Face. Burning pain shot up his arm as the still hot ashes bit deep on his hand, causing him to scream again.

But the ashes found their target, catching The Other Face in its dark eyes and causing it to reel backwards in pain, standing back on its feet and retreating from James. It made no sound to suggest it felt pain, only physically reacting.

Seizing the opening, James rose back to his feet, grabbing the iron fire poker in his non-burned hand. It wasn’t the best grip, seeing as he only had the three fingers on that hand, but it would have to do. The metal was cool and heavy in his grip. Something that might even the odds between them.

James advanced on The Other Face as it still pawed at its face, trying to clear its damaged vision. Yelling out he swung the poker hard, connecting with the creature just above the knee.

Like before, the skin stretched and distended around the blow, but unlike his knee, the poker struck deep enough to find purchase. The skin split beneath it, spilling a foul-smelling brown blood. The Other Face fell backwards, dropping to one knee.

James swung again, catching it on the shoulder this time. Now it was bent lower than him, struggling against his assault.

He lifted the poker above his head and sliced downwards, intending to split the monster’s skull beneath the hard iron.

The Other Face had other plans.

A second before the blow connected, its arm darted upwards. Its grip closed around the poker and held fast, stopping James’ blow with such abruptness that it sent painful shudders back up his own arm.

And then it rose, bringing its feet back under itself and rising to stand at its full height once more. It still held the poker in one hand, not visibly struggling at all against all the might James could muster. It tightened its grip and with a sudden, ear-splitting snap, the iron rod sheared in two.

Everything froze, hanging still and silent for a second. James struggled to pull his hand, still holding half the poker, from the demon’s grip. But it held fast. It looked down at him, tilting its head to the side and again, that same horrific glee flashed through its nightmarish eyes.

A cold realisation settled in James’ chest.

It was toying with me.

The Other Face lifted its free hand and brought the back of it slapping across James’ face, once more sending him flying through the air as if swatting an annoying insect.

He hit the table they’d tipped over and sprawled on the ground, his breath driven from him and coming in shallow, gasping wheezes.

He couldn’t move, every muscle was exhausted, beaten into submission, even as The Other Face advanced slowly towards him. Even as it stood above him and extended those blood stained, brutal claws. He could only watch.

Right as the monster began to bring its hand down for the kill though, the air around it rippled like water, and it was thrown entirely off its feet.

It rocketed through the air and collided hard with the stone bricks of the outer wall. The impact cracked and shifted many of them around it, forming a small crater in the wall that it lay at the centre of.

Meghan Whiteoak stood opposite it, her white magical tattoos glowing brightly in the darkness of the chamber. Her eyes were still bloodshot and a series of deep, dark bruises were already forming across her neck, but focus and rage twisted her face. Her hair whipped and spun around her like she was caught in a gale, her violet sleeves blew back from her arms, revealing the glowing branches beneath. One arm was outstretched towards The Other Face, fingers splayed wide as she pushed the magic forwards to pin it in place.

Then her other hand clenched next to her and the glow from her tattoos brightened to a blinding white. James had to lift his hand to shield his eyes from the glow.

With a primal scream of rage, Meghan threw her other hand forwards, fingers stretching wide.

The air between the two of them thickened and rippled and then, with a force that tossed James even further across the floor, blasted forwards from her. It collided with The Other Face and a loud crunch of breaking stone echoed across the hall of records. Light exploded into the chamber as the wall behind it was blasted outwards, sending broken stonework, along with a demon, tumbling through the open air beyond.

The Other Face disappeared, falling with the broken stones down from the hole in the wall, tumbling head over heels out of view as it disappeared down the cliffside. James could barely make out a series of faint splashes as the debris hit the surface of the Ramm far below.

Slowly, his body aching and the burning from his hand agonising, James came back to his feet. His breath was slowly returning to normal as he sucked in long, ragged gasps. He stumbled forwards to Meghan’s side.

She was swaying on her feet, seeming barely conscious. And yet, when James had found her face and guided her to look at him, she seemed to refocus somewhat.

“The book?” She asked simply. Her voice was hoarse, broken and barely above a whisper. James worried that The Other Face had done some deep damage to her throat when it had attacked her. But still he nodded, she was still present, focussed on the mission, so at least she wasn’t too far gone.

“Over there.” He gestured, before redoubling his grip on her cheeks, keeping her vision on him. “Are you alright?”

Meghan opened her mouth to speak and only a long, low rasping sound emerged. So she simply shook her head, but then she pointed to the book and then back over to deeper into the hall of records, towards the door. The message was clear.

Injured or not, they had to leave. Now.

Nodding, James helped Meghan to her feet and the two of them quickly gathered their books and maps. They slipped the two tomes they’d found into Meghan’s satchel. James figured that the lorekeepers would take more umbrage with the deaths of two of their own than the theft of a couple of books.

James lifted his mother’s sword from the scattered debris, strapping it back to his side. Then he crossed to the hole Meghan had blasted in the wall, glancing down from it towards the dark water of the Ramm far below.

It was a fall that would kill any human. But as James and Meghan hurried from the shattered chamber, a certainty settled into James’ chest.

It wouldn’t have killed a monster like that.

The Dawnrunner, The Rivermouth Port, Free City of Blueholdt – Three Hours Later

“You’re sure about this Fallham thing?” Alyx asked as she helped Oz load packs into the back of their cart on the dockside. James nodded, arms folded as he stared down at the map, laid across a crate in front of him.

 “As sure as we can be. Either way though, time’s up here. Darrin’s leaving and there’s a demon that can look like anyone here to kill us.”

Alyx sucked air across her teeth. “Fair enough.” She conceded. “As reasons to get moving go, I’d say The Other Face is a pretty fucking good one.”

“Agreed.” Iona chimed in, hopping down from the back of the cart, where she had been helping get Meghan comfortable.

By the time they’d gotten back to the Dawnrunner, James had been practically carrying Meghan. The amount of energy she’d burned using magic as strong as she had, combined with the stress of her injuries had almost completely knocked her out. They needed to move, but she equally needed to rest. James had never been more glad of having the cart.

“Is it a long ride?” Alyx asked, drumming her fingers on the cart, already impatient to get moving.

“Around two weeks, at a steady pace.” Darrin answered, appearing from behind James and holding out Alyx’s pack to her. She nodded and took it from him with a grim smile, turning to place it into the cart. Darrin turned to James.

“We’ve given you enough provisions for a month on the road though, just in case.” He told him. James nodded, lifting the map from the crate and folding it before tucking it into a small pouch on his belt.

It was reassuring after the ambush to be back in his armour with his bow on his back. Even with his shoulder stiff and aching from stitches and his burned hand wrapped in aloe-soaked bandages.

Darrin glanced down at James’ hand, then back towards the cart where Meghan lay, he clicked his tongue.

“Around a day and a half north of here, and three miles westwards off the main road, there’s a series of hot springs. Superstitious folks say they’re blessed by The Village. I don’t know about that. But what I do know is that they’re warm, clean and refreshing. Might be worth a visit, even just to recover.” He suggested. James glanced down at his hand, knowing all too well the number of infections that could set in from burns like those.

“We’ll bear it in mind, thank you.” He replied.

Behind Darrin, Oz approached Alyx and held out the lute he’d found for her, now wrapped in a protective sleeve. She looked from him to it and back, giving a slight shake of her head.

“Oz, I…” She began but he cut her off.

“Save it, don’t want to hear it. I’m not teaching you to play for three weeks just for you to neglect your skills the moment you start getting good. I want you outplaying me when I next see you.”

Alyx looked down at the instrument he offered her, and her gaze softened. She reached out and took it from him before stepping close and wrapping her other arm around him in a tight hug.

Oz didn’t say anything, just hugged Alyx back for a moment before he stepped away, returning to his duties and leaving them with his captain.

“What about you?” Iona asked Darrin as Alyx moved to stash the lute in the cart. Darrin looked at her with his usual cocky smirk and shrugged, gesturing back towards the Dawnrunner behind him.

“We sail for Aldiron in two days. Time to go meet his Lordship.” He joked, though James was sure he detected the slightest tremor in his voice. Don’t blame you Darrin, I’d be afraid too.

“I’ll try and do what I can for your people. Make contact with anyone still resisting Draconeus’ rule.” Darrin reassured Iona. “If they’ll trust me enough to meet me, that is.”

Iona chewed her lip, an uncertain look crossing her face as she pondered how to help Darrin with forming the trust he’d need to. Which was when Alyx suddenly spoke up.

“Here,” She offered, lifting a silver chain from around her neck. “Give them this.”

She held out the chain to Darrin, dropping it into his palm. He lifted it to his view, examining what lay within. An intricate silver ring, carved with feathers. James looked to Alyx in surprise.

“It’s mine, a gift I gave to Alyx when we first met.” Iona explained, watching the two of them carefully. Her gaze softened as she regarded Alyx.

“And it’s never far from me. Anyone worth their salt left in that city will know what having it means.” Alyx concluded. “Especially if you find Haster, or Marius.”

Or Lillian. James thought, though he kept his mouth shut.

Darrin nodded firmly, smiling thanks at Alyx as he placed the chain over his head, the ring resting on his sternum just as it did for Alyx. Then Iona reached forwards and gripped his forearm.

“Thank you, Darrin, really. For everything you’ve done for us here. And for what you’re going on to do for my people back home. It means more than you know to have friends like you at my back.”

Darrin nodded in response, gripping Iona’s forearm in an equal shake. “Of course princess. Just say the word. The Dawnrunner’s got your back.” The he turned to regard the others. “Now get moving, you’re burning daylight here.”

James nodded, patting Darrin once on the shoulder before striding off to pull himself onto the driver’s bench of the cart. Iona clambered up next to him a moment later, pulling a hood up to hide her flaming hair.

Alyx exchanged a quick hug with Darrin and a quiet exchange of words that James couldn’t make out, but that left them both chuckling away. Then she pulled herself up into the back, sitting down next to the prone form of Meghan.

With a quick glance back towards the Dawnrunner and a final wave to Darrin, James urged Moondust northwards, towards the North Spans of Blueholdt, and beyond. Back into the wilds.

Back to the fight then.