FaeGate

By Rachel Baade

Sevren bade farewell to the woman, who had introduced herself as the Lady Isolde before he left FaeGate. He wanted to stay and help the wounded, but the older faemaster wouldn’t hear of it. With an imperious stare, she sent him on his way.

Dressed in the red tabard marking him as a Battle Mage, the starshard glittering around his neck, the faemaster went to the stables down by the gates, at the foot of the mountain. Showing the stable-master Isolde’s seal, the man gave him a horse quickly enough.

"This Isolde must be an important person," Kinavel mused.

"Probably," replied Sevren, busy fastening the saddle on the gelding. "I can’t believe I’m finally going to the capital city..."

"Would you quit saying that already, country boy? Let’s go already." The dragon fae nipped at the mage’s ear, urging him on. Laughing, Sevren mounted his horse and rode out onto the road.

The rocky mountains gave out to rolling hills with a carpet of green so bright it almost hurt Sevren’s eyes. The faemaster looked up as clouds drifted slowly over the sun, darkening the sky for a moment before the sun leapt out once more.

It’s hard to believe there was an attack last night, he mused to himself. Or that the Wehr even existed in such a world filled with light. Sevren’s mouth tightened in a thin line. Such creatures did exist. And it was up to him to tell the King of Falanoth to ready for them.

"Up to us," Kinavel corrected. "We’re a team now."

Sevren smiled. "That we are." He turned his eyes back to the road. Having Kinavel with him was quickly becoming familiar. He could barely remember what it was like without him...it was as if he had regained a piece of himself he didn’t know he had lost. Kinavel thrummed in agreement along their mental link.

The faemaster reined his horse to a stop and gazed up at the forest that loomed before them. Birds twittered and he caught sight of a flash of fur as some animal ran away from his unfamiliar scent. The woodland floor was covered with dead leaves and dappled sunlight.

He urged his horse forward, looking about cautiously. Bandits inhabited these woods, and he doubted they’d leave a lone faemaster be. However, no bandit showed, and Sevren began to relax, starting to think he might leave the forest unmolested after all.

These thoughts ceased as he caught sight of a bloodied figure coming his way. The cloaked figure stumbled and fell into the dirt of the road. Sevren dismounted quickly and ran to the traveler.

"Are you all right?" he asked, bending over to help the mysterious person up. A gloved hand gripped the faemaster’s arm.

"I-I think so," said a voice—a man’s voice, trembling and frightened. "Bandits...they came and took all that I had. My family..." The man choked, unable to finish.

"Here...I have a horse, I’ll take you to the next town," Sevren offered.

The man’s grip on his arm tightened until the mage winced. He saw a flash of grey from beneath the hood, and a glimpse of a long nose and crooked grin. "A horse...yes, yes. I don’t need to go to the next town, though. But...I will accept your generous offer of giving me your horse and all your worldly possessions." No trace of fear remained in his voice. It was now smooth and steady, that of a man in control.

"Now wait a minute," Sevren began. His voice died off when another man stepped from behind a tree, a crossbow pointed at Kinavel. The dragon fae hissed.

"A trap!" the dragon growled. "Those slimy little bastards!"

The bandit, never relaxing his grasp, pulled back his hood with his free hand, shaking out his long, dark hair. His grey eyes sparkled with amusement. "I don’t think you’d want to cast any spells, mage, or the next thing you know, you’ll be in a loon house."

The faemaster’s mouth had gone dry. He licked his lips. "...I understand," he said, examining his captor. The bandit had a lean, foxish face and intelligent eyes. Sevren noticed a scar running down his left cheek that stretched when the man grinned his crooked smile, as he was now.

"Good, good," he said. "Don’t worry, if you cooperate we won’t hurt you. We’re robbers, not murderers." With a light laugh and a gesture to the thief holding the crossbow, he started to lead Sevren and Kinavel through the forest. Looking back, the mage saw thee other men following the bandit, one leading his horse.

***

Sevren watched with dismay as the bandits rummaged through his belongings. The dark-haired thief, their leader, took Isolde’s signet ring, putting it on his little finger. The only items they allowed Sevren to keep were his clothes and the starshard. Not even the bandits dared to take the magical stone.

He was at the bandit camp, sitting on a log by the fire, Kinavel sitting next to him. He didn’t dare to move, so spent his time examining either the bandits, or the night sky. Starts glimmered up above, their glow mirrored by the crystal around his neck. The warmth from the starshard and the dragon curled up behind him soothed him somewhat, letting him know he wasn’t alone in this.

The scarred man leaned on his elbows, examining his captive. "I’m Teranji," he said. "You can call me Teran, if you want."

"Sevren of Caldan," the faemaster said stiffly.

Teranji grinned. "Oh, come off it. You’re lucky you met up with us rather than a few other cutthroat bands that probably wander these woods." He flipped a gold coin in the air, the metal glinting in the firelight. He caught it with a snap of his wrist. "Besides, we need to eat."

"Then get a job," Sevren said angrily. "Instead of robbing passerby."

"But that is my job," the bandit said casually. "And most of my men aren’t welcome in any of the towns nearby for some reason of another, so how are they supposed to get a job?"

"It’s no use talking to these thieves, faemaster. Their guard is relaxed, you could destroy them all now," Kinavel whispered in his mind. Sevren shook his head. As much as he hated these men, he couldn’t kill them in cold blood. He looked up and saw Teranji staring at him shrewdly.

"What?" Sevren asked irritably.

"I like you," the dark-haired thief announced.

The mage blinked slowly. "What’s that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Teran opened his mouth to reply, then shut it, getting to his feet as smoothly as a cat. His men quieted, rising as silently as wraiths. Sevren started to ask what was going on, but a glance from Teranji silenced him. Kinavel lifted his head, his blue eyes glancing around.

"No birds," he said. The woods are silent. Trouble is coming, hopefully for the bandits. Let’s run when it arrives." Sevren nodded in silent assent.

The mage jumped as his horse screamed and tugged so fiercely at the reins that they snapped. Sevren watched with dismay as the four-legged beast galloped off into the dark wilderness.

Teranji made a gesture and a few of the men grabbed crossbows and melted into the forest. The rest drew their swords. The leader drew his saber. "Stay close to me, faemaster," he said softly. "I won’t let you get hurt, and if you cast any spells to help my men, I’ll give your possessions back to you." Sevren gazed at the thief in astonishment, but the man wasn’t looking at him. Rather, he was staring at the woods grimly.

One of the men in the woods began to scream, but it soon ended in a choked gurgle. Teranji’s hand tightened on his saber, but he showed no other emotion. He stood his ground even as the first of the Wehr bounded into the circle of light generated from the campfire.

The creature gave a shrill cry, leaping at one of the men. A crossbow went off, but the bolt missed its mark and the creature tore the bandit’s throat out. The rest of the creatures swarmed forward, and Sevren froze. There were at least thirty of them! Teranji shouted orders to his men that Sevren heard only dimly. They stood no chance against these creatures, unless the mage could do something, but he couldn’t even move.

"Fire!" Kinavel shrieked in his mind. "Manipulate the fire!"

Fire, Sevren thought dazedly. He stared at the flame of the campfire, then knew what to do. Drawing upon the magic created by the bond between human and fae, and focusing that raw power into the magic-amplifying starshard, Sevren thrust forward a hand at the fire.

The flames leaped up, turning a brilliant white and azure. They spiraled upward, then burst apart, the crackling fire engulfing the Wehr as the men shouted in panic and threw themselves to the ground. The flame didn’t even touch the bandits, however, but seemed to consume the twisted flesh of the corrupted fae greedily. Sevren closed his eyes, trying to shut out the shrieks and cries of the monsters, and trying not to pity them.

"Such power..." Teran said, awed as the fire slowly died down, returning to orange and red. He turned to Sevren to speak, but the words died on his lips. The mage looked haggard and worn, his skin a deathly white. He swayed on his feet, until the bandit steadied him. Kinavel looked rather tired as well, his head drooping low.

The other bandits, only three now, realizing they survived the attack started to cheer. So enthusiastic were they in their celebration, they didn’t realize until too late that death was upon them.

It dropped from the sky, folding its huge leather wings. Crouching on the ground, the giant creature regarded the terror-stricken men with four black eyes. Upon its back was a rider in similar armor to the one Sevren had seen in FaeGate, but more intricate. However, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the Wehr. Something about it seemed familiar.

Teranji stared at the creature, then at the man. "You must be the leader," he said. "Tell me, why do you attack us? We have nothing of value—"

The man in armor didn’t speak, but raised his hand, the air about it starting to glow. Teranji and his men stared at it with fascination and horror. Three lances of pure light streaked out, hitting the three remnants of Teran’s men. They fell to the ground, smoking holes blasted into their chests.

"No!" Teranji scream, and leapt at the Wehr rider. Sevren’s arm snapped out, catching the man by the shoulder and hauling him back with surprising strength. The thief stumbled back and fell onto his rump. He started to get up, but a cold glare from the mage stopped him.

The faemaster turned and looked at the monstrous form hulking over him, then looked up, searching for the rider’s eyes in the shadows of the horned helm. "You want me," Sevren said, his voice steadier than he felt. "Why?"

The Wehr regarded the Battle Mage, then voiced an ear-piercing shriek. The young man braced for an attack, and Kinavel’s claws tightened painfully on Sevren’s shoulder. However, the monster did not attack, but simply looked at him.

"I merely wished to look upon this so-called ‘Dragonmaster’," said a cold voice that shivered the mage’s skin. It was a voice devoid of emotion, the voice of a hollow void.

Sevren mustered all his strength. "You have looked, then. Now leave me, and this man, in peace." He gestured to Teranji, who was looking at the bodies of his men with an unidentifiable expression.

The armored man laughed, the sound echoing in his mask. "Peace does not exist in this world anymore." However, the man motioned to his Wehr. The creature beat it’s huge wings and lifted off the ground, leaving the two men and the dragon fae to cough amongst the clouds of dust.

Sevren collapsed onto his knees, gasping, He shuddered, feeling as if he was about to collapse. To his surprise, Teranji put an arm around him, handing him a flask of water. The faemaster drank greedily, then poured some water in his hand and held it out to Kinavel. The dragon snaked his head down and lapped at the water. Teranji simply examined him silently.

"So you’re the reason my men died," he finally stated.

Sevren flinched; spilling what water was left in his hand. He looked up, his pale green eyes pained. "I’m sorry, had I known, I would have warned you."

The bandit stared at him, his gaze searching. Nodding, he said, "I actually believe you would have, despite that we ambushed you, held you captive, and stole your belongings." He ran a hand through his wavy black hair. "That’s why I said I liked you. You’re that kind of selfless idiot."

Sevren felt his face heat up. "I’m not an idiot," he said. Then he sighed and looked down. "I’m sorry to have brought this on you."

"You didn’t know, and neither did we," Teranji said tightly. "That man will pay for killing my men, however." He looked at the Battle Mage thoughtfully. "And you seem to be my best bet in finding him."

"I’m going to Falanoth," Sevren stated. "To tell the King of the Wehr, those creatures you fought."

"Then I’m going too," the thief announced. "I’m sticking to you like a child to his mother’s skirts until we find this man who killed my men." Sevren nodded, unable to find the heart to protest.

"What now?" he asked.

"We bury my men," Teranji replied grimly.

***

Teranji collapsed onto his pallet, utterly exhausted. It had been a long day of grim work. He glanced at Sevren, who was tossing fitfully in a fevered dream. The thief frowned. The boy had pushed himself too hard, insisting on helping despite the drain on him the night before.

The bandit looked over at the faemaster, smiling slightly. The boy wasn’t bad looking, he decided. Of course, he had noticed that the first time he saw him. His soft feature and wide eyes made him seem younger than his years, and he walked with an unconscious grace that few could match. Teranji shook his head to dispel the thoughts, looking over at Sevren again.

Teran reached over, brushing a bit of fine blonde hair from the boy’s face. Sevren quieted under his touch and the scarred man drew his hand back hastily. When he saw he hadn’t woken the mage up, he relaxed on his pallet, staring up at the sky.

"Well, whaddaya know," he told the stars. "I’m running off with a pretty boy of a mage. Wouldn’t Ma be proud?" He sighed, his hand coming up to trace the curved scar on his cheek. Teranji closed his eyes. Just a little longer, he said silently to the graves of his men. I’ll avenge you or join you, either way; I’ll have you rest in peace.

It wouldn’t be easy. His only lead was the boy, and that was a shaky one at least. However, he had to make-do since he didn’t know what else to do. He would go to Falanoth with the boy, then wherever he went after. Teranji would follow Sevren until he found a better lead, or Sevren found the mysterious armored man.

The dark-haired thief turned onto his side and fell into an exhausted sleep.