Authors: Nicholas Alexander
“Zinoro will not lose. He is the chosen heir. It is prophesied that he will destroy Sono.”
Emila slid out of her chair and collapsed on the floor. She was unconscious.
“Emila!” Luca pushed his chair back and sprang to his feet, only to feel the entire room spinning around him. He grabbed the table to keep himself from falling.
He looked to Tranom as he stood up, strange symbols appearing on the man's skin. These symbols ran over him, running over every visible part of his flesh and leaving it changed wherever they passed.
When they settled, his entire appearance had changed. He was now a different man, bald and grey-skinned, covered in tattoos.
“I told you to trust no one.”
His smirking face was the last thing Luca saw before he hit the floor.
<> <> <>
Luca stirred back to the world of the waking slowly and in confusion, battling against the wall of sleep as though it were trying to keep him submerged forever. He did not immediately return to lucidity, and that frightened him, for that meant that something was indeed fighting to keep him asleep. In response, he fought harder, urging his sluggish and weak body back into awareness.
His vision was hazy and unfocused as he opened his eyes. He could make out the vague shape of a pair of legs, but little else. When he tried to move, he found that he could not.
He was bound by rope, at his hands and legs.
In time, he fought away the lethargy and gained an awareness of his surroundings. Emila was bound, just as he was, and she was unconscious. They were in a large tent, and a two figures in Acarian armour stood by the entrance. While not even a patch of flesh could be seen through their armour, the helmets were faced square in his direction, so he had no doubt they were watching him.
Bound both by his sluggish body, and the ropes around his wrists and ankles, it took him a while to sit up from the awkward position he had woken in. The Acarian guards watched him like a pair of statues.
Once he was finally sitting, he was able to get a better view of the tent they were in. There was one other person there with them.
Tranom. The real one.
“Are you alright?” he asked. He looked ragged and exhausted, and was covered in dried blood.
Luca nodded.
“How did they get you?” Tranom asked.
He thought back, his memory of the last few hours hazy. “Dreevius. He was at the inn, and he looked like you. They drugged us...”
That portly innkeeper he had assumed trustworthy had been working for the Acarians the entire time. He had drugged all the food and drink there. The man at the counter had not been drunk after all - he had simply been there longer than anyone else.
“A trap to catch any survivors,” Tranom muttered, his voice sad. “I heard them talking about the princess. Was she with you?”
“Yes. But we split up when we got to town. She was not at the inn. Hopefully she was able to get away.”
Tranom nodded in agreement.
“He looked just like you,” Luca said. “His hair, his skin tone - even his voice. The disguise was perfect.”
“He drank my blood,” Tranom said. “He is a shapeseeker, a being able to take the form of someone whose blood he consumes. I'd thought they were all gone from the world.”
If that was the case, Dreevius could easily take the shape of Emila or himself. And the others could fall into the same exact trap...
“Where is he now?”
“Here,” Tranom said. “For now, anyway. The army is on their way back to Acaria, or so he said. He's still here with a group of thirty or so men, trying to find the princess. I do not know exactly where 'here' is, but we're in the woods, somewhere out of sight.”
Luca looked over at the two guards, who watched them silently and without even a single movement. It was unnatural, how still they were. It was inhuman.
“My apprentice, is he-?”
Tranom's question was answered when the Acarian guards suddenly moved aside, to make way for the arrival of three of their peers. These three Acarians entered the tent, each pushing a bound prisoner to the ground.
Brand, Selphie, and Jared.
The three Acarian soldiers left the tent, and a moment later, their leader entered.
“If I had known it would be this easy, I would have waited to send the army back,” Dreevius said as he stepped inside. “Your companions here made it quite easy to find you.”
Selphie looked over to him, but said nothing. Brand and Jared had not moved from where they hit the ground. They seemed to be unconscious.
Dreevius noticed Luca glaring at him, and his smile grew. “Ah. You're finally awake, my very interesting friend.” He walked over and squatted down to look him right in the eyes. “I'm afraid I haven't gotten your name.”
Luca said nothing, but there was a faint spark of realisation in his eyes.
“When I saw you walk into that inn, I considered myself a lucky man,” Dreevius continued. “But when you said the princess was with you, well - I knew it was fate. After the attack was over, I had feared I would not get another chance to talk to you.”
Dreevius took out a long dagger, and began to twirl it around in his hands. “I killed you back there. I gave you an injury that no man could survive, and yet here you are. So - how is this possible?”
Luca kept his eyes fixed on Dreevius'. He did not allow himself, for even the briefest of moments, to glance at Emila.
“Not even my king is immortal,” he said. “He takes pride in the fact that he knows what the only thing in the world is that can kill him, but he never allows himself to forget that he is mortal. No human is deathless - vampires can survive mortal injuries, but they have other weaknesses that can easily end them. And you are no vampire. So how is it that you still breathe in spite of me killing you?”
Still, Luca did not answer him.
Dreevius smiled again, and shrugged. “Well, I knew you would not tell me so easily. I've wondered since then, if it was a fluke somehow, or if you could only escape death once. Let's try it and see.”
He then lunged forth, bringing his hand down upon Luca's breast, plunging the dagger he held into the very same spot as before. Luca cried out in pain, and at the same moment, Emila screamed and thrashed in her bonds, writhing from the same pain that Luca felt.
Dreevius pulled the dagger out, blood dripping from it. He looked back and forth between Luca and Emila.
“So - once again, you are not dead - and yet this girl cries out in pain as you do.”
He walked slowly over to where Emila was gasping. He placed the dagger beneath her throat.
“This is quite interesting. So what will happen to you if I kill her...?”
“My lord.”
Dreevius looked up. An Acarian soldier stood at the entrance, between the two guards. This man had his helmet off, which was the first time Luca had ever seen an Acarian do so.
“Captain, you're interrupting me,” Dreevius told him impatiently.
“Forgive me, my lord, but I must insist that you do not kill her.”
Dreevius raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“King Zinoro will no doubt be interested in this boy who cannot be killed.”
“What does that have to do with her?”
“They are clearly connected in some way. What if killing her would cause him to die as well, or remove his ability? It is safer not to take any chances with them.”
Dreevius frowned, and thought for a moment. “I am here to bring back the princess, which I have succeeded in doing. I was not sent to bring the king either of these two. Should these two never make it to Acarienthia, what will this change? Nothing. But I don't like to leave my business unfinished. I want to see what will happen when she dies.” He placed his dagger back under Emila's throat.
“Word of what happened at the temple will reach King Zinoro,” the captain continued. “Rumours will spread about this boy who cannot die. What if the king wishes to learn of this power he has? What if he should want this immortality himself? Do you wish to be the one to tell him that you had them both as your captives, but chose to kill them instead of taking them to him?”
Dreevius' frown was nearly a scowl now, but he seemed less sure.
“You overstep your bounds, captain, but you make a good point.” He reluctantly sheathed his dagger. “They live - for now, at least. Go wait for me outside.”
The captain nodded, and departed.
The moment he was gone, Dreevius' dagger was drawn again.
“My scheming captain may have saved you for now, but do not take comfort in that,” he said. He nicked Emila under her chin, and a bead of red blood ran down her neck. Luca felt a stinging pain in the same spot.
Dreevius leaned forward and ran his tongue over the spot, licking up her blood. Tears ran down Emila's cheek, whether from the pain or what he was doing to her, Luca could not know.
“Tonight, I will try out your form.” He rose, and sheathed his dagger. “I shall see what other secrets you're keeping.”
He started to leave, but then stopped. He smiled once again. “You kids just get more and more interesting.”
And then he was gone.
Selphie was watching them, aghast. “Are you alright?!”
Luca ignored her, and squirmed over to where Emila lay. “Emila...?”
She blinked, forcing herself not to shed any more tears. Her mouth was a tight line. She pushed herself up to a sitting position. “I-I'm okay. He didn't hurt me - I've just never woke to something like that before.”
“I'll make him pay for that, I swear. As soon as I find a way out of here...”
“Luca, please. Just forget about it. I'm more worried about you. He stabbed you again...”
“It's okay,” he reassured her. “It doesn't even hurt this time.” But that was a lie, and they both knew it - because they could both feel the same sharp, throbbing pain.
“You're really alright...” Selphie muttered. “That's incredible. Is this the second time your connection has kept you alive like this?”
“The third, actually.”
Selphie just stared at the wound in his chest, in awe.
“I have a thousand questions I'd like to ask you about that,” Tranom said. “But for now, we should think about a way to escape.”
The two guards continued to watch them, machine-like. Luca frowned. “Not while those guys are there, we aren't.”
He looked back to Selphie. “Do you know where my brother is?”
She shook her head.
<> <> <>
“Everything is in order,” the captain said to Dreevius. “We'll be ready to leave for Acaria in the morning.”
“Good,” said Dreevius. He glanced inside his tent. “I'll write a letter informing the king about our success here.”
The captain frowned. “I take it you will not informing him about that boy who cannot die?”
“We'll surprise him,” Dreevius suggested.
The captain looked like he had more to say, but he wisely kept silent.
Dreevius began to pace at the entrance of his tent. He asked the captain, “Have those four men we sent back to the village returned?”
“They have, my lord. They were not able to find the other Allman, but they told me that someone matching his description hastily bought a number of items in the market, including weapons and travel supplies. It is likely that he fled.”
Dreevius smirked. “Ah. I believe I made some mistake and gave away my disguise, but rather than save his friends or warn the princess, he decided to save his own skin. The right choice, of course, but I expected these folks to have more honour.”
He stopped pacing for a bit, and turned to face the captain. “It matters not. We have the princess, the unkillable boy, his woman, and even three others. Let the coward go.”
The captain nodded. “As you wish, my lord.”
“This mission was a complete success, in spite of the complications. Allma the third is dead, the dragon is dead, and the temple is ruins. We have the princess. You have served me well, captain. I shall have good things to say to the king about you.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“You are dismissed.”
The captain nodded, and strode away. Dreevius watched him go, while wearing his usual grin. The captains were the only Acarian soldiers who were able to speak, the only ones who were any more than mere drones. Why King Zinoro even bothered to send them was beyond him. All that was needed were the soldiers, and someone to give them orders, and Dreevius himself was already good enough at that.
Dreevius' smile turned to a frown.
The captains were usually smart enough to keep quiet in the presence of an acolyte. But this one - he said things Dreevius did not like. He did not know his place, and Dreevius would have to put him in it. He had no intention of telling Zinoro about the boy who would not die. It was egg on his face - a moment of humiliation in what should have been his moment of glory.
He'd had Allma backed into a corner, and the man had assumed Dreevius' threat was a mere bluff. He had shown him it was not, then drove him back into his temple to hide behind his dragon. It had all played out exactly the way he'd planned...
But then that boy had the audacity to get back up.
So he would pay for that. It would be a few days before his message got to Zinoro - in the meantime, he would amuse himself with this boy. That brat would regret his inability to die, Dreevius swore.
And the captain - for now, Dreevius needed him. If he returned without him, it would look bad on his part. But once they were back in Acarienthia - he would no longer be needed. There were others who could take his place.
Nobody would take him for a fool again. For years he'd hid from the world, using his abilities as a shapeseeker to blend in. But the forms he took only lasted an hour at a time, and he would always be found out and hunted wherever he went. He had narrowly avoided death too many times to count.
When he had finally grew tired of hiding amongst lepers and mundanes, he'd fled to Acaria, the haven of outlaws, as it was called back then. There, Zinoro himself had personally selected him to be his acolyte, as his ability to change forms was very useful to him.
The thing that had made him an unwelcome freak had finally begun to earn him some respect. And there was no way in hell anyone - not some boy and certainly not his own captain - was ever going to get away with making a fool of him again.