"Dusk Of Innocence: Chapter 5" by Danielle D. Reynolds

Chapter 5

            Markas woke early the next morning.  Jonathan was lying next to him, snoring.  There was no sign of Ian.  Markas got up and began the time consuming task of donning his armor.  It was still early, so Markas decided to let the others sleep and go get Kirin ready to leave.  As he exited the hut, he saw Ian passed out on the ground in front.  The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon as he made his way to the stables, bathing the entire temple complex in gold light.  He found Kirin awake and began brushing her.  He then saddled her and led her to the front of the temple.

            “Wait here,” he said, “I’m going to get the others up so we can leave.”

            As he made his way back to the huts, he saw Emily and Marta coming towards him.

            “Good morning,” Emily called as they approached.

            “Good morning,” Markas said, “Where are you two going?”

            “To get a little breakfast before we go,” Emily said, “Care to join us?”

            “No,” Markas said, “But you should grab some food for everyone and we can eat on the road.  Are Jonathan and Ian up yet?”

            “Yes,” Emily said, “I woke Ian up.  He was rather cranky about it but he did get up.  He’s back at the hut with Jonathan.”

            “All right then,” Markas said, “You two get some food and meet us in front of the temple.”

            “All right,” Emily said as she and Marta walked away.

            Markas continued to walk towards the huts, relieved that he wouldn’t have to use physical force to wake Ian, when he heard Ian and Jonathan talking.  Markas approached so as not to be seen.  He saw Ian grab Jonathan by the collar.

            “How dare you accuse me of stealing my sword!” Ian growled.

            “It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Jonathan said.

            “The truth?  What would you know about the truth?” Ian said, “You’ve done nothing but lie to us since we met you.”

            “Ah…” Jonathan said smiling, “I get it.  You’re jealous.”

            “Why in the world would I be jealous of a weak, pathetic schemer like you?”

            “Because, unlike you,” Jonathan said, huge smile spreading across his face, “I don’t have to pay for my women.”

            Ian threw Jonathan to ground, drew is sword, and pointed it at the bards chest.

            “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t run you through right now.”

            “I apologize,” Jonathan said, trying to back away from the point of Ian’s sword, “I’ve obviously touched a nerve.  I never meant to offend…”

            “You ‘offend’ just by existing,” Ian said, sheathing his sword, “You aren’t worth dirtying my sword.”

            “Of course,” Jonathan said, standing up and dusting himself off, “Why don’t we put all this nonsense behind us.  Start over on friendly terms.”

            Jonathan held out his hand.

            “I’m letting you live.  But I will never be friendly with scum like you.  And if you do anything to hurt those girls, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do.”

            “The ladies are free to make their own choices.  It’s not your business what they and I do,” Jonathan said, flippantly.

            “They’re innocent,” Ian said, staring intently at Jonathan, “That should be protected, if nothing else.”

            “Innocence can’t last forever,” Jonathan replied glibly.

            Markas realized that if he didn’t stop them, it could get ugly again.

            “Ahem,” he said, stepping forward, “It’s time to go.  We are meeting the girls in front of the temple.  They are getting breakfast for all of us to eat on the way.”

            “Of course,” Ian said, glaring at Jonathan, “The sooner we leave the better.”

*****

            The journey that day was quiet as neither Emily nor Marta seemed inclined to chat and giggle.  The only one who was making any noise was Jonathan.  His insistence on signing “to raise everyone’s moral” seemed to be having the exact opposite effect.  Markas wondered how much more he could take and judging by the glare on Ian’s face, he was feeling the same way.  Still, at least now, neither Marta nor Emily were blushing and giggling at everything that came out of Jonathan’s mouth.  Marta seemed to walk as far away as she could from Jonathan, mostly keeping her gaze fixed to ground.  Emily, while still walking next to him, seemed unaware of the world around her.  Her expression was very blank, unreadable.

            Markas finally pulled Ian aside.

            “You don’t think that Jonathan, well, that he got to Emily?” Markas asked.

            “No,” Ian said.

            “Are you sure?” Markas said, “I mean there seems to be a marked difference between the way she is today and the way she was the past few days.”

            “She told me what’s bothering her last night. It isn’t Jonathan.”

            “So what is?” Markas asked

            “Some crackpot at the temple told her future,” Ian said, rolling his eyes.

            “A prophecy from the Seer?” Markas asked, “Did she tell you what it was?”

            “No,” Ian said, “But it doesn’t really matter.  It’s just some foolishness that someone made up.”

            “Prophecies can be very serious,” Markas said.

            “They cause nothing but trouble,” Ian said, “Some fool makes up some cryptic statement and then tells some other fool who spends all their time trying to figure out.”

            “Well, whatever it is,” Markas said, “It seems to be affecting her.”

            “Maybe it’s just Jonathan’s singing,” Ian said.

            Markas smiled briefly, then remembered himself.

            “Perhaps we should ask him to stop,” Markas said.

            “If you think it will do any good,” Ian said.

            “Jonathan,” Markas called out, “Jonathan!”

            The bard lowered his mandolin and turned to look at Markas.

            “Yes, Sir Markas?”

            “Well, uh,“ Markas said, “I think it might prudent, well, if you stopped playing for awhile.”

            “Whatever for?” Jonathan replied, airly, “Would you deny everyone the charms of my music?”

            “Well…no,” Markas said, searching for a reason, “It’s just that…well, um, you remember what the town guard said in Carsonia.  About the raiders attacking people along the road.  And even Marta said they had been spotted around her village.  We really don’t want to attract their attention.”

            “Of course,” Jonathan said, letting go of his mandolin so that it would hang by his side, “I understand.  Of course, it is a shame to deny you all of my abundant talent.”

            “Well, maybe you can play for Marta’s village when we take care of their problems,” Emily said brightly.

            “Ah, yes of course,” he said, smiling at Emily, “Dear Miss Emily, you do know how to lift a man’s spirits, don’t you?”

            “I suppose,” Emily said, blushing slightly.

            They continued on in silence.  Markas’s head was a storm of thoughts: What was the prophecy that had been given to Emily?  Should he trust Ian?  Should he trust Jonathan?  What was causing the problems in the Forest of Sanctuaries?  Was it related to what had happened to Golden Gryphons?  And he wasn’t any closet to figuring out who was behind it all.  Hopefully, Sir Tiberius would have more answers.

            “Stop,” Ian suddenly hissed, causing everyone to stop, “Listen!”

            “What is it?” Emily whispered.

            “Listen, up ahead,” Ian whispered, “Voices.”

            Markas stopped and listen and sure enough he could hear voices coming from the trees up ahead, but they were too far away to make out what they were saying.

            “Stay here,” Ian said, “I’m going to try and get closer to see if I can hear them better, maybe even see who they are.”

            Markas watched as Ian crept up to the place the voices where coming from.  Markas felt a little annoyed because he wasn’t used to taking orders from someone like Ian.  Of course, Ian was probably the best choice to scout out the situation. Markas would have never been able to sneak up on them with his armor.  And he wasn’t entirely sure that Jonathan could be quiet.

            Ian crept back over to them and whispered, “Slave traders.”

            “How do you know?” Markas asked.

            “I’ve encountered them before—they’re part of a criminal cartel that operates out of Argenault.  They all have similar tattoos,” Ian said, “Besides, the twenty or so gnomes locked in wicker cages was a pretty good tip off.”

            “Gnomes?” Marta said, “There was gnome village just south of my own village.  We were always so friendly with them.  Oh, the poor little things!”

            “How many are there?” Markas asked.

            “Four,” Ian said, “They’re camped off to one side of the cage holding the gnomes. Emily, do you have some kind of spell that would cause a huge blast in the middle of them?”

            “Yes,” Emily said, “I have just the thing.”

            “Good.  You cast that spell.  Then Markas and I will charge in and engage them.  Meanwhile, you and Jonathan lob as many spells and arrows as you can at them.  Marta you stay by Emily and Jonathan.”

            “Perhaps, Marta and I should stay back here,” Jonathan said, “You know, for her protection.”

            “What’s the matter?” Ian asked, “You only have that bow for decoration?”

            “I’ll have you know that I am an excellent marksman!” Jonathan replied.

            “Keep your voice down.  Fine, but I have yet to see you use that thing,” Ian said.

            “Fine,” Jonathan replied, taking his bow from his back, “I will assist Miss Emily with a ranged assault.”

            Markas took his axe of his back and turned to Kirin.  “Stay here and fight off any that get too close to Emily and Marta.”

            They moved as slowly and as quietly as they could, trying to get close enough for Emily to cast her spell.  Markas became painfully aware of every clink his armor made.  They got close enough to see the shadowy figures of the traders through the trees.  They were laughing loudly, when they suddenly stopped.

            “You hear something?” one of them said.

            “Yeah,” the other said, “Better check it out.”

            “Now Emily!” Ian hissed.

            Emily took a handful of powder, threw it into the air, and cried, “Celerous!”

            The traders’ small campfire exploded into a huge fiery ball, consuming two of the traders immediately.

            Ian and Markas both rushed forward, Ian reaching his target first.  Markas ran as fast he could in his armor to meet his opponent, who apparently, judging by his features, had some orcish blood in him.  Markas managed to block the half-orc’s sword with his shield while landing a blow on the half-orc’s side, causing him to bleed profusely.  A blast of energy from Emily buzzed past him and hit the half-orc in the shoulder.

            “KRUG!” the orc bellowed.

            Markas had only a moment to wonder what ‘krug’ meant, as a giant ogre came crashing through the woods.  The distraction allowed the half-orc to hit Markas with his sword, knocking the wind out of him.

            Markas looked up and was thankful to see that Ian’s opponent lying on the ground, several arrows sticking out of him.  Ian was rushing to engage the ogre, as a barrage of fiery balls flew from Emily and stuck the creature.  Markas returned his attention to the half-orc in time to block another blow with his shield.  Another blow from his ax brought the half-orc to his knees.  Suddenly, a scream caught his attention. 

            He turned to see that the ogre had knocked its way past Ian and had gone straight for Jonathan and Emily.  Jonathan had jumped out of the way, but Emily hadn’t been fast enough.  The ogre reached and knocked her with its large hand causing her to fly backwards.

            Markas whistled and Kirin flew over to him.  As quickly as he could, he mounted her and readied his lance.  Ian had already run over to the ogre but his sword didn’t seem to even bother the ogres’s large mass of flesh.  Kirin took the air and charged the ogre.  Markas gored the ogre with his lance, causing it to howl.

            Several blasts of energy hit the ogre.  Markas looked over as he turned around for another charge.  Emily was standing, barely, her arms posed if she were holding an imaginary bow.  A silvery arrow appeared and flew right at the ogre.  A volley of real arrows followed, Jonathan had apparently decided not to run away.  Markas charged again and ogre finally crumpled on the end of his lance.

            “Good, we beat it,” Emily said and then collapsed.  Markas, Marta, and Ethan all ran over to her.

            “Oh, Miss Rosewood!” Jonathan cried out, “Such a noble sacrifice!”

            “Is she dead?” Marta cried.

            “No,” Markas said, as he removed his gauntlets.  He touched the holy symbol on his breastplate with one hand and Emily’s check with the other.

            “Oh most sacred Torus,” he whispered, “I seek your aid.”

            The symbol on his chest glowed very faintly.   The glow traveled to his hand and then to Emily.  She moaned and her eyes fluttered open.

            “Are you all right?” Markas asked.

            “Yes,” Emily said weakly, as she sat up.

            “A miracle!” Jonathan cried, “Sir Markas has brought Miss Emily back from the dead!”

            “She wasn’t dead,” Markas said as he put is gauntlets back on, “I just used some healing magic to revive her.”

            “Still,” Jonathan continued, “Miraculous!”

            “Not really,” Markas said, “The ability to cast minor healing spells is one of many things that separate a knight from a common swordsman.”

            Speaking of swordsmen, Markas wondered what happened to Ian.  He turned to see Ian had taken over his combat with the half-orc.  He had to admit Ian was an excellent swordsman; the half-orc was definitely out matched.  Even though he was quite certain Ian was drunk, he was incredibly skilled, his movement coming almost automatically.  Ian probably could have been blindfolded and still have fought just as well.

            “Please!” the half-orc cried, dropping to his knees and dropping his swords, “I surrender.”

            But it didn’t look like Ian was listening.  He started to bring his sword around to deliver the final blow.

            “Stop!” Markas cried.  He ran over and grabbed Ian’s arm.

            “What are you doing!” Ian roared.  “He’s evil.  I’m ridding the world of him.”

            “He surrendered,” Markas said, gripping Ian’s arms.  “We have to accept his surrender.”

            “But he’s a worthless, vile piece of filth.  He trafficked in peoples lives.  He needs to be punished!”

            “He will be,” Markas said, “We’ll turn him into the local authorities.’

            “And what?  They’ll throw him in some jail.  He deserves worse,” Ian said, but he stopped struggling with Markas.

            Markas released his grip. 

            “Perhaps he does, but that’s not for us to decided,” Markas replied.

            “Why couldn’t you be a knight of Tyrus?  Then you could pass judgement on him,” Ian said, still gripping his sword.

            “I’m sorry my choice of Orders isn’t to your liking, but there’s not much I can do. The law says I can’t, so we’ll just have to take him with us to Brue.”

“Fine,” Ian said, sheathing his sword, “Let’s hurry up and get to this village.  We can turn him into the authorities there.”

            “Actually, I think we may have to stop here and rest,” Markas said, “I’m not sure Emily will be up for traveling.”           

            “I’ll be fine,” Emily said as she tried to get up, but then collapsed back down.

            “We’ll rest,” Ian said, bitterly, “We better tie him up.  Marta, go and open those cages and let all those gnomes go.”

*****

            Ian began digging through his bag to find some trail rations.  Emily was asleep, exhausted from the battle with Kurg.  Everyone else would have to fend for themselves for dinner.  He felt a little guilty because he had been used to her cooking and was disappointed that she couldn’t cook tonight.  Still, she needed to rest.  That’s why they couldn’t press onto Brue Village which was why they were camped here, with the prisoner that they should have just executed in the first place.

            Ian chewed on his hard tack.  It was late now.  He had agreed to take the first watch, everyone else was asleep.  He really didn’t trust anyone else to do it.  He didn’t trust Jonathan at all.  He didn’t trust Markas not to mess it up.  And Emily couldn’t.

            He looked at the disgusting half-orc as it slept.  How many lives had it ruined?  And had it been punished, had justice been served?  No, Ian thought bitterly, there was no justice in the world.  Only fools like himself who still sought it.

            He took a sip from his flask.  It was getting a little low; he’d have to refill it in the next town.  He took another small sip and put the flask back into his bag.  He leaned back and looked over at Emily, sleeping.  He wasn’t sure if she was a liability or not.  She was definitely a talented scholar and her heart was in the right place, but she was rather weak and vulnerable too.  That not only worried him because of battles like today, but because she was constantly around Jonathan.  He didn’t care what Markas said, he knew what Jonathan had done to Marta and it was only a matter of time until Jonathan got to Emily too.  There was no justice—not for Emily, not for Marta, not for Katrina.

            Katrina.

            He fingered the ring than hung on the chain around his neck and thought about its owner.  He thought about the beautiful, vibrant woman who once wore it.  She wore it because she loved him.  And he loved her. 

            Here he was, three years later, and there was still no justice for either of them.

            “No…please…No...what…I don’t…orb…NO!” Emily suddenly began to cry out in her sleep.  She sat up, her pale skin dripping with sweat.

            “Are you all right?” Ian asked.

            “Huh…oh…yes,” Emily said, pushing her hair out of her face, “Just a bad dream.”

            “Are you sure?” Ian asked moving over next to her, “You don’t look so good.”

            “I’m fine,” Emily said, “Still just a little week from all the spell casting I did.”

            “And getting hit by an ogre,” Ian said.

            “Not so much really,” Emily said, “Markas healed any injuries I had from that.  But to cast a spell I have to expend a little of my own energy.  Usually it’s such a small amount I don’t even notice.  But today I cast so many spells, more than I’ve ever cast before.  It took a lot out of me.”

            “Oh, sorry,” Ian said, “You don’t have to expend yourself that way.  You’ve got Markas and myself here to protect you.”

            “That’s very kind,” Emily said, “But you shouldn’t have to protect me.  I’m not your responsibility.”

            “No, I guess not,” Ian said, “But it doesn’t mean I won’t try to protect you anyway.  Besides, if we are going to help Marta, we have to work together.  If you’re weak, it weakens us as a group.”

            “I hadn’t really looked at it that way,” Emily said, looking down at her knees, “I’m sorry if I slowed things down.  I’ve never done combat casting before; I guess I have to learn a lot still.”

            “Don’t worry.  You fought very well today.  We wouldn’t have beaten that ogre without you.”

            “I guess.  But I’ve slowed us down.  If it weren’t for me, we would have reached Marta’s village tonight and you could have turned that slave trader into the authorities.”

            Ian glanced over at the half-orc and felt himself getting angry again. 

            “Don’t worry about it,” he said, clenching his fists, “If we had done things my way, we just would have executed him and been on our way.”

            “But he did surrender.”

            “That’s because he’s a coward.  He doesn’t want to pay the penalty for what he’s done.  They never do.  And the rest of the world let’s them get away with it.”

            “Ian, I’m…I…”

            “I’m sorry,” Ian said, as he looked at the scared expression on Emily’s face, “I’m…don’t listen to me.  I’m not important.  Just a sword-for-hire.  It doesn’t matter when we get him to town.  Today, tomorrow, he’ll have to pay for his crimes eventually.”

            “You shouldn’t…”

            But Emily was interrupted by tinkling, soothing music.

            “What’s that?” Ian said, hand moving to his sword.

            Emily listened intently for a second then covered her mouth.

            “Oh no!  Pixies!”

            Ian laughed.  “Pixies?  Well, then nothing to worry about.”

            “Oh no, you don’t understand.  Pixies can be very dangerous.”

            “Pixies?  Should we run and hide?” Ian said, laughing.

            “Please…just because something isn’t ugly and growling and out to kill you doesn’t automatically make it harmless.  Pixies don’t look threatening but they have powerful magic.”

            The music grew louder.  Ian looked at Emily who had a dead serious look on her face.

            “Do you want me to wake everyone else?” Ian asked.

            “No,” Emily said, “Hopefully they’ll leave them alone.  In fact maybe we should try and pretend to sleep.”

            “Hehehe,” a tiny voice rang out, “Why would you want to do that silly mortal girl?”

            “Too late,” Emily whispered.  The clearing suddenly filled with two dozen or so tiny little people with wings.  They were no bigger than Ian’s index finger with clear, sparkly wings and each glowed a slivery blue.  They were all completely naked, but Ian didn’t find it disturbing because they’re tiny little bodies were like the nudes often found in classical paintings—perfect conceptions of what a body should look like.  They all had flowing, long white-blond hair.  In fact it seemed the only way to tell the females from the males was that the females each had a set of perfectly round breasts.

            Their glittering laughter seemed to be in tune with the ethereal music that followed them.  They flew about the clearing, dancing with the music.  How could Emily be afraid of something so sweet and so beautiful?

            He looked over at her and her fear seemed to be gone and she was just as delighted with the show the pixies were putting on.  She even giggled when one landed on her lap.

            “Hello,” it said in a high-pitched perky voice, “What are you mortals doing out here?”

            “We’re travelers. We are resting her for the night,” Emily replied softly.

            “Oooh, we love travelers!  They’re so much fun,” the pixies squealed.

            The pixie that had landed on Emily’s lap sat down, legs crossed and said, “I like you.  You feel sweet.  Most people don’t feel sweet.  They feel warm or smart or good or yucky.  But not very often do you find someone who feels sweet.”

            “Well, thank you,” Emily replied.

            “Oh, but this one feels yucky!” another pixies yelled, jumping up and down on top of the half-orc, “Very, very yucky!”

            “Oh yes,” another agreed, “Very yucky!”
            “Well, we can fix that,” another giggled.

            The pixies began to circle around the half-orc, sprinkling him with glittery dust.  Slowly, he sat up, a completely blank expression on his face.

            “What are they doing?” Ian whispered.

            “They’ve erased his memory,” Emily said, “They’re going to turn him into pixie kin.”

            “What?” Ian said angrily, as he started to get up but he felt Emily grab his sleeve and yank him back down.

            “Don’t,” she whispered.

            “But he’s our prisoner.  He needs to be taken to town so justice can be served.”

            “Justice has been served,” Emily said, looking at him severely, “Pixies can sense the darkness in a mortal’s soul.  If it is too much, they erase it but they erase everything else too, leaving a blank soul, a pixie kin.”

            Just then the half-orc stood up.  He started to clumsily skip after a group of pixies as they led him off into the woods.

            “No!” Ian cried out.

            “Oh, that’s right,” a pixies said, flitting about, “I guess we have to check the rest of you.”

            “I feel a lot of sadness,” one said, leaning its head to one side, “Even the sweet one is a little sad.”

            “I sense another yuckiness somewhere,” another pixies cried out, “Oh, we must get rid of it too!”

            “Please, no!” Emily cried out, “These are all my friends.  Please leave them with me.”

            “Aw, she’s so sweet,” the first pixie said, “Let’s do as she says.”

            “Yes!  Let’s do as the sweet girl wishses!” another yelled out.

            “But..but…yuckiness…” the one stammered.

            “But we can’t tell where that yuckiness is coming from,” another said, “It might be something else nearby.”

            “Very well,” the one pixie said, “Let’s go.”

            The pixies flew off in a cloud of sparkly dust.  Ian was still clenching his fists.

            “How could you let them go?” Ian yelled.  Emily jumped up and covered Ian’s mouth with her hand.

            “Shh, they might here you,” she whispered, “You’re lucky you didn’t end up going with them.”

            Ian pulled away, “The half-orc is the lucky one.  He just got completely away.  He’ll never have to pay for his crimes.”

            “He’s paying,” Emily said gravely, “Didn’t you see what they did to him?”

            “I saw him skip off without a care in the world.”

            “That’s right.  He didn’t have a care because he didn’t have anything—the pixies erased it all, he’s just a blank slate.”

            “A pixie kin,” Ian snorted.

            “Look, no one is sure what exactly happens when pixies go off with a pixie kin, but there have been cases where the corpses of people who were made into pixie kin were found later.  Most believe that the pixies run their bodies into the ground.  Pixies need neither sleep nor food, so they never think that those they turn into pixie kin need it either.  The half-orc is as good as dead.”

            “If you say so,” Ian said as he sat back down.  He pulled out his flask and looked over at Emily.  She still looked very pale.

            “You should get some sleep,” he said and then took sip.

            “Fine,” Emily said, “But just so you know, we’re all very lucky we didn’t end up like the half-orc.”

            Emily rolled over huffily, but she quickly fell back asleep. 

            Ian watched her as chest rose and fell with her soft breaths.  If Emily was right, then he really had no reason to be upset.  After all, he had wanted to execute the half-orc, so he shouldn’t be upset that the pixies had essentially done it for him.  He shook the flask in his hand.  He’d have to fill it tomorrow; it was maybe a quarter full at best.

            I’m not upset that the pixies took the half-orc, he thought, I’m upset because having all your memories and feelings erased doesn’t sound horrible at all.