Fan fiction:The Key/Chapter 12: Snare

The Key is a fan fiction piece by Tamrend, originally posted in the Diii.net Fan Fiction Forum. The fiction series has been going since February 2004, and still see the occasional update with more chapters or parts of chapters. You can find more information on The Key article.

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Author’s Note: Readers may note that the group’s arrival in the steppes, hinted at in the previously written second part of chapter 11 (now excised and in the process of a rewrite and reinsertion as a new chapter) does not materialize here. After carefully considering the pace of the story and refreshing my memory of Sanctuary geography, AND giving it a go anyway for about 2000 words, I’ve decided on a different course. Please just pretend that the missing part never existed and it’ll all make sense.

On a different note, the following work is not as finished as I had planned, only covering half of a chapter for one thing, and still lacking a title. Also, it's been embarrassingly long between updates, but yada-yada no time blah blah who-cares-just-write-the-damn-story. In short, my muse and I are in contract negotiations and I'm going to ask Father Time if he has financing options available.

Chapter 12: Snare

Part I

Kelsia let her breath go suddenly, but then held the very next. The distant knocking of a woodpecker was the only sound on the crisp, cold air. She leaned slowly outward, straining for a sign of the hellspawn. The tree hid her view just as well as it hid her. Only fractured glimpses of the road could be seen through the foliage. She knew that Marius and Seith were down there on the ground somewhere, but she could see no sign of either of them.

How long have I been sitting up here? she wondered. Too long, it seemed. Had the hellspawn gotten wind of their presence? Could they have anticipated this ploy and taken another route to flank them? The thought was enough to make her sit up and scan her surroundings carefully, but of course she could see only patches of ground through the dense foliage. They could be sneaking up behind them right now and they wouldn’t know it until it was too late.

She looked below her to where Cloud was tethered, hidden from the view of the road by the wide trunk of the tree. The drop looked further from up here than it had from the ground, but Seith had assured her she would be fine as long as she landed properly.

The last two days of their journey had been furtive and questing. They had shirked the road and labored overland, always angling northeast. That morning, they had found the road, though it seemed remiss to call it that. The stones that marked its edges had been long overgrown as the forest crept forth lazily over the years to reclaim it.

Marius had been quick to spot goatman tracks in the soil, which led to a heated discussion about their next move. In the end, they decided to retreat a distance from the road and allow Marius to scout ahead on foot. When he returned, out of breath, with news of a patrol coming their way, they hastily put together a plan for an ambush.

The staff warmed to her touch and she reflexively tightened her grip. There was something different this time, a faint stirring beneath her fingers. Points of light danced at the corners of her eyes and she was suddenly aware of every touch on her skin, every wrinkle of her clothing. She began to grow, to expand beyond herself. Her body remained where it was, a part of her, but seemed to shrink in proportion, becoming an appendage of what she had become. She could feel the pitted bark of the trees as she touched and flowed past them. Branches sighed and swayed rhythmically in the wind, trailing fingers of their living presence through her. Wildlife hid just beneath the surface of the forest, in burrows and dens and hollow trees, shielded from the cruel winter that was only just beginning.

And then she felt them. She recoiled at once from the oily, stinging touch of their presence. Hatred pushed through their veins, festering and feeding upon itself until it boiled out of them. They were evil given flesh, a blight upon the face of the world.

Good, Kelsia. You are learning to use the strength within you. The words rippled across her swollen consciousness, both at one with and separate from her own thoughts. You are truly Zann Esu.

Terror knifed into her breast and she gasped as her normal senses reasserted themselves. She touched her face with trembling fingers, reassuring herself that it was still her own. She had felt, for just an instant, as though someone else was sharing her body with her. She knew that something lived inside the staff. Loric had said as much, but she had not until now realized the import of what he was telling her.

Her thoughts were cut short as the goatmen appeared from the east, moving with surprising stealth down the narrow roadway. Four, five, six, she counted, though she couldn’t be certain, catching only glimpses of mottled steel and gray fur. She waited, the moment seeming to stretch on and on. She began to feel faint, but dared not breathe.

With a roar, flames leapt up from the ground and spread out along the trail. Tortured bleating erupted from the goatmen the very next instant. Metal rang against metal as Marius appeared and disappeared from a gap in the trees. Fire flared to life once more and hurtled through the air to explode further down the trail. The flames on the ground flickered and died, though the clashing of weapons continued for some time longer. Finally, the only sound that remained was the bleating of a single demon. Kelsia began to breathe once more, the hiss of air through her lips the loudest sound in her ears.

“You can come down now,” Marius called wearily from the ground, catching sight of her. He cradled his right arm in the other hand, but still held his sword at the ready. Tortured bleating continued unabated from within the screen of the trees.

Kelsia braced herself and dropped to the ground, letting her knees take the shock of landing. She could see the scorched bodies of five of the goatmen lying in the road. “How did we do?” she asked as Seith approached. He panted with apparent exertion from the magic he had cast.

“I think we got them all. I counted eight before we struck. One almost got away, but…” He waved his hand toward a smoking corpse a dozen paces away. “Marius took care of the other pair.”

“A risky business that was,” Marius said, grimacing, “but worth the trouble, I think.” He switched the sword to his left hand, wiped it clean with a handful of dried needles from the ground, and sheathed it.

“Are you hurt?” Kelsia asked him.

“A strain,” he said, sounding annoyed at having it pointed out to him. His arm had only come out of the splint the day before. Evidently the flesh had not mended completely.

“Take this,” Seith told him, handing over a flask of his healing liquid. “It should heal any new injuries.”

Marius took the potion and emptied it in one draught. “We’ve bought some time, but that patrol will be missed when it does not check in. That there were so few gives me hope that the enemy is spread thin, but we should move on as quickly as possible.”

“We must be careful,” Seith admonished. “It might be true that the enemy’s ranks are spread thin in searching for us, but any path that leads east will be watched more closely. Move too fast and too predictably and we’ll likely end up right in the jaws of another trap.”

“What about her?” Marius said, tilting his head toward Kelsia. “She picked up on the last trap pretty well.”

Seith appeared to consider it for a moment. “I don’t think we can rely on—well, whatever that was. We should leave the road now and do our best to conceal our trail.”

“Our food will be gone in a few days,” Marius said, his voice rising. “We can reach Rona in five if we stay on the road. It could take us two weeks if we keep blundering about in the wilderness.”

“We’ll have to forage what we can. If need be, we can survive without food for that and longer.”

“I can tell when the hellspawn are near,” Kelsia said, forestalling Marius’ reply and bringing the attention of both men on her. “The staff gets warm when they come near. That’s how I knew about the ambush at the burning mountain. And I felt the goatmen’s approach long before any of us saw them.” She longed to say more, to seek some reassurance from Seith for what had happened, but she knew it was a false hope. Whatever was happening to her was beyond the grasp of either of them to help.

“There,” Marius said triumphantly. “She’ll know of any hellspawn before they get anywhere near us.”

“The roads are not safe,” Seith insisted. “The longer we stay on this one, the more dangerous it becomes. Besides, you’ve been saying all along that I should try to break whatever hold the staff has on her. Now you want us to use it?”

“If it will save our skins, why not? What do you think?” Marius said, turning to Kelsia.

The question took her by surprise. It was not the first time she had seen an argument between the two, but it was the first time one of them had chosen to involve her. She wondered if it was wise to trust their safety to the staff. In the end, the answer was quite simple. She just wanted it to be over. “I think we should try to get to safety as quickly as possible.”

Seith put up his hands in defeat. “Alright. We’ll chance the road for as far as we can.” He pointed at Kelsia. “But I expect you to let me know the moment you feel anything.”

They hurried along the road in sprints, taking cover in the trees to rest and feed their mounts on the thin, tough grass that grew in scattered patches on the forest floor. At each stop, Seith would bring out his map, only to put it away moments later with a frown or a sigh.

“Is something bothering you?” Kelsia asked him as he repeated the ritual for the third time.

He started to tuck the map away again but then thought better of it and unrolled it for her. “The problem is, I don’t know for certain where we are. My best guess puts us somewhere in this area.” He circled a small section of the map with his fingers. “But there are no landmarks to show us if that’s true.”

She could see that was true. There was nothing but blank space across that area of the map. Mentally, she traced the pattern of curving lines and triangles and pointed to a spot within his circle where a portal stone should be. “Do you think that patrol came from the stone here?”

He shrugged. “It is likely. It has occurred to me that this road might be leading us straight into it.”

“Then why haven’t we turned away from the road?”

He frowned again. “Marius has a point about the food. This land is poor for forage and most of the game has gone to ground or moved south for the winter. And we have you, of course, to warn us.”

“Right,” she said softly. The memory of her mind being invaded came back to her once more. The voice and the presence she had felt were surely one and the same, but what did it all mean? What did the staff want from her?

“And now I can see that something is troubling you,” Seith said, packing the map away.

She considered telling him what had happened, but it seemed doubtful he could offer her any kind of help. Best not to add another worry to the already staggering burden. “I was wondering about the goatmen,” she said, grasping for a reasonable question. “They are different from the other demons. They look almost like they are part human.”

Seith sat down against the trunk of a tree and bid her to do the same. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and began. “During the Sin War, the powers of Hell often tempted humans with the promise of wealth or power. There was once a clan of humans whose members were lured to servitude and worship of the Lesser Evil Andariel by the belief that they would be granted eternal life. Most such promises were nothing but illusion, just as most humans who took the side of Evil in the Sin Wars were cast aside as soon as their usefulness had ended. The humans of this clan, though, committed such acts of unwavering evil that Andariel finally granted them their wish for everlasting life. But it cost them their humanity. They were transformed into demons and gained the cursed immortality that all of Hell’s creatures possess.”

Kelsia pondered that. It had never occurred to her that a person could become a demon. “I wonder if they ever regret their decision.”

“Regret is a human emotion. In becoming demons, they were changed into beings that lack even the capacity for hope. No, I’d say they don’t regret it at all. That part of them simply died.”

They saw no hellspawn for the rest of that day. Kelsia did feel a tingling of warmth from the staff late in the afternoon, but it quickly passed. As a precaution, they made their camp far from the road and scouted the surroundings thoroughly to get a feel for the terrain if a quick flight should be needed. Dinner was a thin strip of dried meat and a dry husk of bread smaller than her palm. She broke a piece from the bread and held it in her mouth until it had softened enough to chew. It seemed that each meal was more meager than the last; the tiny portion was gone before she’d begun to take the edge of her hunger.

Still chewing the last of the toughened meat, she put the staff in her lap and hugged her knees against herself. Loneliness and hunger together gnawed at her insides. She stared into the inscrutable shadows on the forest floor, listening to a quiet broken only by the pulse of blood in her ears. She exhaled and a silver mist formed in front of her. Reality suddenly fell away like a mask.

It was all a lie. A dream, perhaps. None of it had happened because it couldn’t happen. Demons did not exist. Magic was a bunch of silly tricks and nonsense. That was the truth she had known all her life. This, all of this, had to be the lie. Shael was still alive in the real world.

The puff of fog lingered on the air for only a moment and vanished. The fragile illusion she had built crumbled as easily as she had built it. Grief rushed in to fill the void, so potent, so keen that a stark wail of agony burst from her throat. She covered her face to muffle the sound, but was otherwise helpless before the sobs wracking her body.

She felt pressure on her shoulder, a squeeze of a hand. She knew it was Seith without looking. He remained there, without speaking, as she purged herself of the paralyzing sorrow she’d been forced to bury so that she could keep going. When the worst was over, he sat down next to her, still silent, and enfolded her in his arms. She stiffened, feeling suddenly vulnerable in her pain, but he patted her arm soothingly, as though to assure her he wasn’t a threat and she relaxed. She leaned her head on his shoulder, sighing gratefully at the comforting warmth. She fell asleep almost at once.

Part II

References

• Tamrend
• Part I - Part II - Part III
• Original Post