Jonathan
led Renee out of the forest, at times having to half-carry her, so exhausted
was she from her ordeal. They followed an old, rutted path that slowly rose out
of the woods and onto a cliff top. Right on the edge of the cliff stood a small
log cabin. He reached the door of the cabin and opened it, gesturing for the
young woman to enter. She did so hesitantly, still not entirely sure she could
trust this strange being.
Inside,
the cabin was simple. In one corner was a rough wooden table with two stools
under it; a low bed was against one wall, and at the opposite end of the room
was a small stone fireplace, its embers still glowing. A few animal hides were
spread out across the packed earth floor of the cabin. Jonathan pulled out the
two stools and indicated that Renee should sit. Then, he walked over to the
hide in the centre of the room, pulling it aside. Beneath it was a wooden
trapdoor, which he hauled open. He reached inside the cavity created and
produced an earthenware flask, and two small cups of the same make.
He
sat down at the table with Renee and set down the two cups. He unstoppered the
flask and poured a deep amber liquid into both the cups. He gently slid one cup
towards her and said softly, “Drink.”
Renee
took the cup but did not drink, “What is it?”
“Uisce,” replied
Jonathan, “It is a drink made by the men of the north. It is strong, but it
helps warm you inside.”
With that he lifted his own cup and drained it quickly, following his
sup with a satisfied sigh. Renee mimicked him, but nearly choked. The drink,
while aromatic, was bitter on the tongue, and burned her throat. However, to
Jonathan’s credit, it did warm her belly.
She spluttered and coughed for a while before saying, “How do you drink
that without choking?”
Jonathan laughed, pouring himself a second, and said, “Practice. I have
been drinking Uisce for a few decades
now. The Erelisians used to make a similar type of drink which they called Aqua Vitae, which I drank for over a
century.”
“How old are you?”
The man drained his second cup and then said, “Older than I look. I am
afflicted by a most terrible curse.”
Renee waved him away as he gestured to her cup with the flask, and
asked, “What is this curse?”
Jonathan knocked back his third cup and said, “I am immortal. Age will
never come for me, nor any natural sickness. I have walked Doranath for nearly
three centuries. Why, or how, is not important.” He paused, narrowing his eyes
at the young woman, taking her in for the first time.
Despite her exhaustion, she was beautiful. Thin brows rested above green
eyes that sparkled in the afternoon light, taking everything in. Her delicate
nose was slightly red from the cold outside, as were her slender lips. When she
spoke, her lips turned up at the corners, revealing her slightly uneven teeth,
and hinting at the radiant smile that hid beneath. Her long brown hair hung
halfway down her back, and was tucked behind small ears that protruded just
enough to be uniquely attractive. Her skin was pale, and dusted with freckles.
Jonathan had had little to do with women in his long life, at least when it
came to romance, but he could see that Renee was a rare beauty.
He
asked her, “How did you come to encounter Nihilus?”
Renee
took a deep breath, and then told her story from when she first saw Doran’s
ship in battle from the Promontory.
*
Doran
was uneasy. Whilst he knew that the Elven ships were nearby, that he could not
see them gave him little comfort. Heavy fog had settled over the still waters,
and there was no breeze to speak of. That did not bode well for him and his
crew. The plan had been for Doran’s small vessel to lure the ghost ship into
the jaws of the waiting Elven fleet. With no wind to fill the sails, and not
enough crew to row with any meaningful speed, they were now an easy mark for
any attacker.
Doran
glanced over at Mr Dask, who was shivering in the cold fog, rubbing his arms
with his hands in a vain effort to keep warm. Doran felt sorry for the old man;
he had finished his time in the navy long ago, and had spent the past seven
years occasionally fishing the shallow waters around Kormouth. He didn’t
deserve to be out here, serving a disgraced captain on a fool-hardy, and
probably fatal, mission.
He
was about to call out to the man when the slap of wet sails made him turn and peer
into the mists. No matter which way he turned, all he could see were the dense,
swirling mists. The sound of the wet sails came again, but seemingly from
everywhere. The crew were deathly silent, all gazing around, fear on their
faces. Doran took a deep breath and went to call out an order to Mr Dask.
However, as he turned to where the man stood there was a splash, and Mr Dask
was going.
Looming
out of the fog past where the first mate had stood, a huge vessel slid quietly
by, seaweed trailing from her gilded bow.
*
Jonathan
looked sadly at Renee, listening to her finish her story by describing the
feeling of freedom as the being that she knew as Vengeance leaving her body. He
gulped down his twelfth cup of Uisce and
scratched his stubbly chin. After a few moments of silence, he said, “I am
sorry you had to suffer at the hands of one of my brothers. What Nihilus did to
you was horrific, and I am sorry you had to endure his presence for so long.”
Renee
bit her lip, “Will his magic be undone?”
Jonathan’s
brow knotted with thought, “I honestly can’t say. Spells cast that required
constant attention and reinforcement certainly will have been dispelled. I know
you are concerned for Doran – I do not know how Nihilus brought him back, it
should not be possible, not with the powers possessed by we Seraph – in fact, I
suspect he utilised something within you. You are not a mage though, so I am
truly uncertain. I am sorry.”
“Can
we find him then?”
“Doran?”
said Jonathan, “Possibly – due to his contact with Nihilus, his presence should
act as a lodestone on the world. He will draw things, dark things, unnatural
things, to himself without realising. I should be able to sense him.”
Renee
looked up at the tattooed man with hope.
He
raised a finger, “Give me a moment.”
His
eyes changed from dark brown to a deep, swirling blue; all traces of pupil and
white vanishing. His tattoos began to pulsate with light, and Renee swore that some
of the moved, crawling about his skin to form new, alien patterns.
Jonathan
gasped, and the light vanished, “He is close, but we must hurry.”
Without
a further word, he grabbed Renee and dragged her out of the cabin.
Wrapping
his huge arms around her, he cried, “Hold on!” and with that launched himself
into the air, huge brown wings spreading
wide.
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