Blight-Bringer

Blight-Bringer

B.D. McAteer

Golem Heart Publishing

Copyright © 2024 B.D. McAteer

All rights reserved.

Cover Art by Etheric Tales

Edited by Susan at Grendel Press

Chapter Heading Ornament and Scene Breaks by shathedesigner

A Golem Heart Publishing Book

Golemheartpublishing.squarespace.com

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Prologue

I've made a mistake. I am sorry.

The words were smeared slightly but remained enough to read legibly. It was a simple enough statement, and I had no doubt it was heartfelt. I wondered why it was written in blood. The starkness of the words, in contrast to the brightness of the pages, drew my eyes in. I was cautious not to touch the print; knowing enough about the author, it could've just as well been poison.

I closed the journal and looked down at the others in the ashes. I counted four journals, but there was no way of knowing if this was all of them.

I picked up each of the journals, partly in reverence and partly with caution, slow and methodical.

Zephrus. Her white wings flinched. I followed my eyes to where she had been looking.

Why does it count backward? she asked.

I am unsure. I've never known a bell tower to do so.

I paused to verify I hadn't been seeing things. The hands of the clock were indeed ticking in the opposite direction. It occurred to me the bells had not tolled since we arrived. Had they been disabled?

The Clock Tower is no more, I said.

How do you know? Zephrus sent Shell away. The heavy mosoleth armor faded away in hexagon flakes of green light, until she was left in the limited amount of fabric she normally wore.

I placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her flying off. I couldn’t let her explore this place alone.

I said Clock Tower was gone, not that their effects on the world were. Head back to camp. Send Olu. I need his talents, I think.

Why can you wander off, but I cannot?

Tell him I'll be in the belfry. I pointed up at the tower, ignoring her complaints.

She huffed passed her mask, spread her wings, and launched into the air. Sending her to retrieve Olu was more about getting her out of the city. It felt as though the particles in the air were going to stain those wings of hers. I didn't want the poor Anirlit to have to go through that. She had enough to worry about already when it came to dark omens. At any rate, I needed time to think and reflect. Olu was a chatty person, but if I asked him nicely, he would let me have my time.

The inside of the tower's adjoining structure appeared to be some sort of church once upon a time. The structure had been weakened by a large blow from above. The impact had shifted the entire structure and the pillars stood precariously. Any further change in the integrity of the church would see it as lost as its followers.

The stained glass, which once graced those in prayer, now told a different story, one devoid of hope. After a while of attempting to step over the multicolored shards, or any other possible holy symbols, I resorted to trudging through like a nonbeliever. It's not that I was impatient; I was, but there was no way around. I tried to make up for it by correcting one of the Ald’Kair statues near the altar. The other statue in the worship hall was too far gone. I ignored the obvious omen that it was the Tyrant who had risen again, not the Savior.

The clock tower's structure was just slightly more adequate than the adjoining church. I had no doubt it would carry me all the way to the top. The particles in the air were thicker here, though. More of the husk-like material crawled across surfaces indiscriminately. I adjusted my mask and checked its filter. The seal held despite my beard.

Ah, you made it. Olu's smile bothered me sometimes, but I supposed he was a decent enough bard.

Who does this remind you of? I held up some of the husk pulled from one of the support beams.

Always a pleasant conversationalist, Iter. Let me have a look.

He took the husk and shifted his fingers. The mass crumbled into sand.

This I'm not familiar with. I'm not sure what to make of it. It seems like something you'd expect from Disiea, but the other realms are just as likely. It doesn't follow any rules I'm aware of.

No one comes to mind? I asked.

Olu shook his head. I'm sorry, no.

I nodded, understanding. Did you find anything?

I did. Olu is usually quite a chipper lad. His songs or conversations are enough to make any of us smile. But this time, he simply magicked a lute into his lap and tuned it idly. A girl. He pointed with his chin. In the holding cells, underneath the keep. The keep was plain enough in the city’s sky line.

I didn't ask why he hadn't brought the girl with him. Who would've fed the child while she was confined? The city had been abandoned too long for anyone to have survived. The girl had to remind Olu of Unna. The bite of that one had never subsided. To grow past something like that, a change to some degree was required. Change was not in his nature.

Found something too. I produced the journals. They are probably his.

Olu's mood perked up. Well, why didn't you say so!

I took a seat next to him on the ledge of the belfry. Olu pushed the particles in the air from us so I felt comfortable enough to peel my mask away.

Zephrus says you think he is long gone.

I nodded again.

Then why are we not heading out after him?

I watched the city below. It had looked bad before, amongst the destruction. From the tower, the city was one large grave, a parable to fallen glory.

I believe there is still something here for us to learn. We should understand before we move on. Would you mind telling me a story?

Oh, most certainly. I would like to see this one myself, honestly.

Olu opened the first journal and hesitated, reading the same first words that I had.

I guess I didn't expect a happy tale, but...anything particular we are looking for?

I shrugged. I don't have enough understanding of what happened here to know where to take us next. We could go after him, but the blight has been pushed back quite a bit. Does that mean he is no longer a threat? We could move on if that were so. However, if he is still as big a menace as this land remembers, we must do something. We have to figure out where he went and how to stop him.

Any idea why the clock is ticking backward?

I was hoping you did.

The mechanisms had to be changed deliberately in order to make something like that happen.

I noticed the function of the bell had been changed as well. It won’t ring, at least not yet. There are some interesting symbols on it, though. Not something you'd expect to see, let alone on a bell tower of the Breathing Church.

Olu magicked a book into his hand this time, a leathery thing that, though standard size, looked like it weighed more than despair.

What did they look like? Olu asked.

I opened my mouth to explain one of the symbols but realized how fruitless it would have been. I drew one in the purplish sand on the floor.

Olu flipped the pages of his book until he was satisfied and placed a finger on the page in question. He read for a long moment and then slammed the book closed with his hand along the book's spine.

Nope. Nothing.

Nothing?

Nothing.

I took the book from him and flipped through the pages. The book had enough drawings to give credence to it being an alchemy book, but he was right. Nothing. I could make out some of the symbols from the bell, but no amount of want was going to tell me what the damn book was trying to say. The only clue was the final symbol at the zenith of the clock’s face, it was nowhere to be found in the book.

Story time? Olu smiled. Annoying. He knew I’d have to be patient now.

Story time. I nodded settling in at the base of a pillar.

Olu's image wavered a bit and I could feel a large amount of essence pouring from him. He gingerly turned the page written in a red substance. Then he ran a single finger across the ink that lay there. We watched as the letters began to unfold.

For Corey, this is where our years of unhealthy imaginings begin to take their physical form.

…world, forgive us…

Chapter 1

Of Minotaur and Men

Name day. It was my name day when they took me from my home, setting the end of the world in motion.

I was naive then. Back when the world was simple, and I didn’t have to think so hard about the future. I couldn’t fathom that Korigara, a land of ice, could somehow become coated in ash and fire. We barely acknowledged the humans, save for the traders that had business with father and in the market.

A Tréges brought me a gift once, a crisp jewel of a fruit. He called it an apple. It was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. The flavor forgotten for rot when I saw their colors during the raid. Our crystalline refuge cracked wide open, and they took me. I wasn’t sure if anyone else suffered the same fate, but before I knew what was happening, I was alone in a cage somewhere below the ice shelf. The boar on their flag mocking me in the fire light. No flames have lit up my night sky thus ever since. Sometime later, they carted me and my cage away. I couldn’t call out for help. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway if I did. My small voice would not have risen over the screams.

My mind started to go numb by the time they transferred me to a larger cage with others inside, none Alerez. No food or water had been provided to me and the sun grew hotter than I should like. Though they aimed to receive a hefty price for me, these men were not caretakers. I would’ve killed for someone to lean on in my weakened state, but my captors and fellow cage mates kept their distance. My captors chained me up to the side of the cage before we moved on. Everyone was far more relaxed then.

After the sun had come and set again, I weaken further still. I had been saving my appetite for the large feast intended for myself and the other hatchlings before I was taken. But that feast would never come now. I and the others would never know who it was we were supposed to be. The name that was never uttered, died, suffocated with the rising smoke.

Out. A bearded man demanded when we had been stopped for some time. The rest of the captives had already been moved out of the cage and the man had undone my chains, but I was not inclined to obey. The sun and malnourishment left me unable to do so.

Out, he demanded more fervently with a slap to the bars near my face when it became apparent I would not move. At any other point in my life, the tone he used would have compelled me to obey. I didn’t understand their lack of comprehension that I was too weak.

He cursed under his breath in the Oreculian tongue as he climbed in to retrieve me himself, the beads in his beard clattering. The Tréges grabbed me by the wing and dragged me out of the cage. He muttered under his breath something akin to dumb lizard. Next, I was struggling to catch my breath after the impact with the ground.

As the bearded man pulled me across the permafrost, the heat of the land began to affect me further, making my head feel as though it were full of air. My vision swam. By the time I felt the flagstones across my back, another had joined us.

You didn’t feed him? He’s a youngling. You could’ve killed him. Then—

—didn’t want to get frosted—

—legends and idiots like you who believe in ‘em—it’s too damn hot for a razor—

Hot? I’m freezing my arse off.

Stop wailing the both of you. There was a slight pause in realization. You didn’t bind his tail?

With that, I felt something left in me. My tail was free. I wanted to fight back; I wanted to take my fate back into my own hands. Like a frost flame coming part way back to life as it died in the hearth, I moved my body. The bone fin at the end of my tail cracked apart, separating into blades, and I swung with all I had, which apparently wasn’t nearly as much as I had built up in my mind. My tail swung with the vigor of a sunbathing seal. Then, also like a flame, I was out.

Sometime later, I gained a small level of consciousness. The distant sound of something wooden sliding across stone was the first thing to bring me out of my dreamless slumber. Cracking an eye open, I saw a bowl before my beak. It brought me the rest of the way back to life. Primal instinct took over and I tore into the mush in the bowl. It was a putrid mess tasting of corn and sweat. I ate it anyway. When your body still wants to live, it will force almost anything down your gullet to make that happen. I cursed between swallows. I didn’t gag once, though I knew I would have at any other time. I lapped up the remnants, cleaning the bowl with my fingers and tongue.

Tears began to well up in my eyes, grateful at life, until I looked up from the bowl and took in my surroundings. A little over half a dozen sets of eyes fixated on me, on the life-confining side of a cell door, a side I shared. I found pity in some of those eyes, but some were fearful, and some malicious. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, and I sat dumbfounded for longer than I’d like to admit. For a moment, just a moment, even though they were human, I wanted to take that pity. I wanted to break down and find comfort where I could; I didn’t care in whose arms. I couldn’t do it. These…creatures…were to blame for my current misfortune. Instead, I focused on the stares of indifference. Those faces, those at least helped me wise up.

In lieu of tears, I settled for wiping the corn shit from my face with the tatters of my seal skins. Then I found an empty space toward the end of the long bench lining the wall. I sat there, awkward but defiant. I did my best not to let it show how weak my travels had made me. I couldn’t let myself feel safe here, and I couldn’t show any vulnerability. Thankfully, the humans nearby inched away from where I chose to sit. I would not have to do much convincing.

I glared through the corners of my eyes in an attempt to look tough and assess my situation without appearing too concerned. The humans didn’t look as diverse as the Histories of the Empire suggested. Surprisingly, most of the humans were Tréges by ethnicity. Only one other kind was there, a Lycion by the look of her. She almost blended into the corner of our cell for all the shadow there. Only the gleam of gold on her wrists and collarbone cut through the gloom, but not nearly so much as those eyes of hers, those eyes that bore into me. Her elegance in posture and finery seemed odd. The other humans gave her a wider birth than they gave me. She was a woman and possessed jewelry in a cell full of men, and no one would accost her? They felt safer around what they knew as a razor than one of their own? I couldn’t take her stare any longer, so I opted to occupy my mind with different thoughts.

The Lycion woman’s jewelry had me in mind of my own, clunky and lackluster as it was. I tried to reach my horns, but the wrist restraints pulled my hands short, tugging at the harness on my chest. Instead, I shook my head, testing the areas I could not reach. Something weighty was up there. They must have been corked or wrapped heavily. I lifted my tail that lay next to me and observed the heavy cloth and rope they had used to lock my blades into place. My wings were free, save for balls of iron and chain draped over them to keep me from flight. I’d keep the fact that I was too young to fly to myself. I wasn’t pleased with how much I had been restrained, but I was grateful they hadn’t decided to just lop it all off. I’d heard of such stories. Apparently, whatever the plan was for me, I was more valuable in one piece. I wrapped myself with my wings for comfort, however difficult the task.

They couldn’t be too careful after you killed that man. The woman in jewelry startled me. Her accent was rich and thick, an unexpected assortment of curt words and odd emphasis on syllables. Very different from the Tréges accents I was used to.

What? I asked, not understanding.

She gestured to her head as though she had horns.

No, I said, trying to gather my thoughts. I wasn’t being poached for parts. No, I mean, killed?

The woman shrugged. I didn’t think you had the look of a killer either, but according to the men carrying the wrapped corpse in the market…

"They said I killed him?" Me, whose father didn’t trust him to protect their land?

She shrugged and stared at me from her corner of the cell.

Uncharacteristically, I suddenly became quite irritated. I suppose it wasn’t her fault, but for that moment, I needed someone to aim my ire at. I needed to blame someone for my fate. I understood what the woman was telling me, but I couldn’t accept it. I was refusing to understand everything about my circumstances.

I gritted my teeth. How are you called? I bit off the ‘human’ at the end.

She paused and gracefully stood up. Her movements were like that of a dancer. The others in the cell shifted in their seats. The woman sat down next to me. It may have been sensually so, but at the time, I wouldn’t have known.

Navitat. You see? Nav-ee-tat. She pointed to her lips and exaggerated her pronunciation. She wasn’t having it, my petulance.

Navitat, listen.

She nodded.

I’m sure in time I’d like you well enough, but right now, I need answers. Panic started to boil over in me.

She pulled my face away from her own via the chain on the back of my head like a dog. I believe I have just provided an answer, razor.

Answers are a commodity for a slave, boy. The voice that intervened came deep and intimidating without the aim to be, which made it all the more so.

I couldn’t help but lean toward the bars leading to the adjoining cell despite the extra rattle in my chains. Trying to make out the source from where even the torchlight wouldn’t dare go was like reaching into the mouth of a wolf den to retrieve your dropped waterskin.

Would be better to remain thirsty, was my decision.

Almost as soon as I decided to preserve my life, the beast blew out a great sigh. It caught me in the face and I backed away in a panic. The result was a headache, with the wall behind me keeping a bit of my scalp in remembrance.

Dear Nybe, I hissed.

The other prisoners had themselves a laugh at my expense. Scorn colored my cheeks. The voice behind the bars overpowered the others, his only being a chuckle.

And you, how are you called, minotaur?

The cells went silent, the laughter dropping like a broken promise, awkward and visceral. Even the constant dripping sound decided to voice itself at another time.

I knew what I had done but didn’t know just how bad that decision was at the moment. The faux pas was intentional but the price had been unknown. In the towns and villages of Orecul, only two creatures could produce an exhalation such as it had. A horse or a Materic. Since horses cannot talk, I had just used an incredibly racist slur toward one of the largest sentient species in Orecul.

There was a shift in the dark. Well educated, aren’t you, boy?

The boards beneath us groaned as the first hoof hit the ground. No one spoke. Even Navitat seemed like she wanted distance between us. She found her original seat. Even so, the place grew stiller with each earth-cracking step. When the minotaur opened his own cell door and started down the hallway to our cell, I started wondering if I could wake myself out of this progressively worsening dream. When the door to my cell opened without so much as the rattling of keys, I was glad to lack proper hydration to void myself.

You didn’t know the whole floor was ours, did you? He smiled. Now that I’m getting a better look at you, boy is indeed the word that I would use. Probably scared too. He shrugged. It was like two boulders dancing to the rhythm of an earthquake. The minotaur’s presence filled the room as he made his way in, all eight feet of solid muscle and bone. He had to hunch over to admit himself to the room. But if you ever say that again, his voice was calm, though I may have managed to find the proper hydration in that moment. I’ll wear your head like a hand puppet.

With great effort, I nodded, all wide-mouthed and sweaty.

Alright then. The minotaur straightened up and his demeanor changed instantly as though none of the previous ugliness had occurred. He shooed away the closest man sharing my bench. Then he plopped himself down next to me opposite Navitat, who had magicked herself back to my side. If he had dropped any further, I was sure the impact would have fractured the wood. A red gleam flashed around his neck.

Leegius. You, boy? the mino…Materic asked.

I opened my mouth and hesitated, realizing I had no real answer.

Your name, child, Navitat persisted.

I have no name. The memory still ripe, I hung my head. "They took me before it was spoken.

Ah, Leegius said but left it for a moment so I could collect myself. He flailed about anxiously on the bench as though trying to find a comfortable position. The motion may have been able to go unnoticed, if the beast didn’t take up so much damn space. "You are younger than your gall a moment ago would’ve led me to believe. My memory is a little foggy on your people. How old are you?"

I looked at Navitat. To a hum—your people, maybe nine. Back to Leegius, For yours, I am not sure.

Leegius nodded to himself. Your people name off actions, yes? I’d say we could name you, but somehow ‘Pisser’ doesn’t seem proper. He jested, but I couldn’t help my cheeks coloring.

As uncomfortable a moment as it was, in the midst of laughter all directed at me, I was able to notice something. We were in a dire situation. Some, myself included, barely had any idea of what was going on, yet this massive presence called Leegius had us finding our smiles.

Perhaps our new masters will give you a proper name, in time. Leegius gestured with a hand. Or leave you in this cell to rot if you keep offing their employees. The Materic spat. A rat could’ve drowned in it.

How did he die? I asked. The man in the courtyard. I thought that maybe Leegius liked me enough for some straight answers.

You really don’t know? Navitat asked, incredulous.

Or perhaps he just needs to remember? Leegius looked down at me expectantly.

I think I swung at someone before I passed out. It came out as more of a question.

Lopped his foot right off. Leegius snickered to himself.

Really?

No, child, Navitat interjected, regarding Leegius. You nicked a vital artery and it was enough. She slapped Leegius’s arm. Do not fill the boy’s mind with false grandeur.

Sounded better my way, priest. Leegius shot back, but there was no heat to it. Poor bastard bled to death. Slow as hell a way to die, though. You look pale, hatchling. Do not fret. It was a fine first kill.

I shot a look at him, ready to protest, but it died in my throat. There was no fooling someone like Leegius or my father. They just…knew.

Where are we? I asked, changing the subject. I glanced up at the window above us. There was no seeing through it unless Leegius let me up on his shoulders.

A place where paths diverge.

Navitat and I glanced up at his bull head as Leegius gazed off at greener horizons like a scholar.

Along the Southern Trade Route, child. I have not been out this way before. So, I do not know where we are.

Wherever we are, there will be an auction. And we will find what fate has in store for us, Leegius said.

Navitat threw a thumb his way. This one knows less than I do. She turned toward him. Did you get into some bad mushrooms over there? Last I checked, Ligshrum did not sprout in prison cells, man.

Is that why it is so dark in your cell?

Navitat shot a look at me. I had missed something. Leegius, though, was flustered.

No. My damn lantern keeps going out. Leegius pulled the nearest lantern from its hook and placed it at his feet. I was just coming to borrow some of your light when we first met. I’ll get mine up and going again and bring it right back.

They give us a lot of freedom to move about for slaves, don’t they? I asked.

One should accept blessings rather than question them. Brings bad omens and such to replace it, Leegius groaned.

Nothing much to that, really. Navitat flicked her wrist out to reveal the one bit of ugly jewelry she possessed.

I checked my own to confirm. An ugly off-orange crystalline cluster lay in the wrought iron shackle.

All that is needed to ensure our cooperation. His mood soured, Leegius made to leave.

Leegius, wait. I held it out as much as I could manage with my bindings. Your lamp. When the Materic reached out to take it, a perfect red gleam winked at me from around his neck again. This time, I took notice.

Leegius placed the lantern in the middle of his cell and lay on his side as if to shield the pitiful flame from a windy world.

The rest of the cell came to life as others became too bored to remain silent. Conversation broke out here and there, each person’s story worse than the last. Tears fell. I passed the time listening to them, but most of the time, I sank back into my own hurt and thought about the life that had been stolen from me. I wondered if mother had survived. And where the hell father had been. That merchant had flashed that odd coin again and father was gone soon after.

"On mission," he would say.

He had been gone longer this time. Why? How could he not be there when we needed him? Probably the greatest warrior in the Fissure Tribes and his allegiances elsewhere had left us vulnerable.

I looked down at the dull, imperfect gem on my wrist. No more thoughts came. I just fixated there and started to shake. I glanced over to where Leegius had been lying on the other side of the bars and was greeted by the dark.

Chapter 2

The Price of a Life

The sun almost brought a quick end to my tale, its harsh embrace turning my skin pallid. An odd buzzing came from the trees outside of town, almost like they worshipped the heat and were attempting to summon every bit of it from Disiea. I wondered just how far north we had come. I could barely focus, but the vegetation here was vastly different from the lack of flora that surrounded Korigara.

Didn’t they know that Alerez couldn’t survive in this environment? We had ways to travel through Orecul safely, of course, seldom as we did. But, once again, I had been too young. That particular lesson had not been passed down to me, so instead, I fried like a fish.

Navitat and the Materic seemed unaffected until they started having to drag me along while the slave drivers led us through the streets. Leegius said something to one of the slavers, but I was unsure what. I was starting to resent my new friends just about the time that a splash of chilled water went up my nostrils. The little shite who had done it ran off, presumably to refill his bucket. After the initial shock, I was grateful and could stand a little taller, ignoring the fact that I was trying to appear smaller amongst giants. I shot my eyes around, looking for the water’s source. It must have been emyon chilled or produced as it couldn’t have been that cold here naturally. Instead of an essence wielder, I notice the privies. I prayed the water used to fill the buckets was close enough so that they wouldn’t choose to change sources.

We, myself and fellow slaves-to-be, shuffled forward intermittently. The others were as docile as if this were simply everyday life, so I followed suit. After watching the slavers marching back and forth with their scowls and whips, I concluded keeping my head down would be the best way to avoid their lash.

Leegius’s back was covered in scars from his neck down. A fresh wound stood starkly among the old, stretching from his shoulder to the small of his back. I hadn’t noticed it in the cell, but in the daylight, with flies buzzing about ravenously, it was hard not to. The smell was beginning to take on a sickly-sweet nature. I turned to avoid gagging but examined it just the same. I peered closer and was almost knocked over by the next bucket of chilled water.

Leegius and the man behind me cringed out of the way as the water splashed in their direction.

Don’t know how you enjoy that, hatchling. Too cold for my kind, Leegius smirked at me as I spat up the water that had made it down my nasal cavity. I think the kid was having fun at my expense.

The town we were shuffling through wasn’t much to look at. I couldn’t understand how humans could live so close to one-another. There was a castle, which was interesting enough, but the smell of waste nullified any awe I could have felt toward it.