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Tanja had not slept since the healers had left. She waited what
seemed an eternity for Dioren to awaken instead.
She watched him, breathing gently for the first time in days.
She recognized the beauty of his contoured features, those which he
shared with all living things: he deep, knowing eyes; the chiseled nose;
the thin, drawn sliver of a mouth; a handsome face ravaged by stress and
disease. He was uniquely beautiful, as were all living things to Tanja.
To destroy his peaceful slumber would be criminal, she decided, and so
she waited.
Eventually, however, the same exhaustion brought sleep to Tanja,
and it was Dioren who eventually woke her. Through the film of newly
opened lids, she saw the conviction in his eyes. Instantly she was
awake, and bitterly angry. Sitting up, something she realized she had
been previously unable to do, she glowered at him. “Now are you ready to
tell me what is happening?”
“As I have already explained, I cannot tell you. I have decided,
however,” he added quickly, seeing the frustration on her face come to a
boil, “that if Vera will not tell you, it would be acceptable for you to
deduce it for yourself. Allow me to show you.” It was at this time, as
he offered her his hand, that Tanja realized Dioren was standing.
“Dioren! You’re standing! Quickly, get in bed!”
“You’ll notice, Tanja, that you yourself are sitting. With
Vera’s departure, a great weight was lifted from both of our shoulders.
I regret that I must once again burden you with it.”
“So you are ready to explain to me now?”
“No, Tanja, I am ready to show you something.” Again, he offered his hand.
Hesitantly, Tanja took it and stood on weak legs. Together, they
exited the sick tent. Outside, the sky was overcast, but behind the dark
clouds burned a fierce sun. Thus the sun’s light did not pierce the
clouds, but rather gave them a glow which cast little light but had a
harsh glare that was hard on the eye. To Tanja, who had been hidden away
in the sick tent, away from bright light for so long, the effect was
nearly blinding. She noticed that although Dioren squinted, the sun did
not seem to effect him in the same manner.
Without the comings and goings of the healers and their
entourage, the town was silent. Empty homes stood in various states of
disrepair. Thick, oozing black mud filled the streets, mixed with
assorted garbage. The stench of death and burnt flesh had long since
fled the streets. Walking through the silent village, Tanja felt a
distinct lack of sensation. There was very little to see; no sound broke
the silence; no aroma permeated her nostrils as it once had; no chill
wind disturbed her walk.
Dioren stopped her as they reached a particuarly empty portion
of the town. The houses had slowly dropped off, and been replaced by
burnt wreckage. This, she concluded, must have been where the pyres
were. “What is this? Why are we here?” Tanja’s mind, still foggy,
yearned for answers. As much as she resented Dioren’s ability to
recapture her attention so soon after her decision to ignore him as long
as he chose to remain secretive, she was unable to turn from the
knowlegde he was about to reveal.
“Look around for yourself, Tanja. The answer is here. Those few
of us who were left after the first death count of the disease were
unable to conceal it.”
Tanja looked around. The sun in the gray sky above was
struggling to pierce the layer of clouds, shedding tiny rays of golden
light down on various dissheveled homes. She looked at the road, which
was becoming less furrowed as rain began to smooth out the tracks left
by the wagons that once rolled through the town. Mud and human remains
filled those furrows that remained. Near her feet, the ground was soft
and excessively muddy. No grass grew in the town square, undoubtedly a
scar left by the fires. That was it! If they had truly burned over
thirty corpses here, there should be ashes, and the ground would be
littered with charred remnants. No grass grew here because the ground
had been recently dug. “Dioren, there are no ashes! You never burned
your dead, did you? You buried them.”
“No, Tanja, we did burn our dead. We buried the living.”
“What?” The idea of it made no sense to the young healer. Why
would a town bury the living?
“Watch,” commanded Dioren. He whispered several words, and with
a flash of light, the ground at his feet exploded. Tanja turned to look
at the hole which he had magically dug. Something bright and metallic
reflected a sharp glare, and she was forced to squint into the deep pit.
At the bottom, some ten feet below the surface, was a large coffin.
“You killed them, then?” Tanja was incredulous. “And in such a
painful manner.” Revulsion towards the mage was building within her. He
was as bad as Vera. No! Everything he said had been lies. Vera was
right, and Dioren was the villain all along. She raised her hand in
anger, the first time in her life she could recall doing so.
“No, Tanja, they are still alive. They have simply been in a
state of suspended animation. That coffin is a remnant from the time of
the War of the Artificer’s. It was created by Master Tawnos.”
Tanja’s knees collapsed beneath her. Her head spun, and the
fogginess of her mind served only to emphasize the glare of the sun,
which seemed suddenly to be piercing not only the clouds, but her own
head. Her forehead throbbed. “These people, then, they are...alive?”
“Yes, Tanja. It is very much like being in a dreamless sleep.
They will awaken without memory of being buried.”
“How? Will they simply, I don’t know, awaken, all of a sudden?”
“Unfortunately, yes. There is a spell to awaken them, and the
coffin was originally meant to suspend its inhabitants indefinately,
until that spell was cast. However, age has weakened the coffin, and the
people may awaken soon.”
Confusion still creased Tanja’s brow. “Why did you place them in
there, is it a cure of some variety? What does any of this have to do
with me leaving Gromhaven, anyway?”
“That is the part you must deduce for yourself, my lady. I can
tell you only that the people will still be sick when they wake.”
“Then why would you put them in-” Tanja halted as realization
dawned upon her.
“Yes, now you see, don’t you, little one?”
Suddenly, the sun seemed unbearably bright. Anger flushed her
face, matching the heat of the burning sun. She squinted through eyes
blinded by tears of truth. “You didn’t have to. We weren’t going to hurt
you,” she sobbed. “We came to heal...”
“Tanja, Vera was prepared to help us. But if she could not do
so, she had every intention of destroying our town, and hopefully the
sickness along with it.” As she fell to her knees, tears streaming down
her face, Dioren calmly stroked her ragged, dirty blond strands of hair
with his hard-knuckled fingers. Like a snake shedding a skin it has
outgrown, so Tanja was now forced, by his and Vera’s actions, to cry the
tears of a child, and awaken the woman within.
It had been long enough, Dioren decided. There was no more time
for Tanja to wallow in her self-pity. “We must leave now, Tanja. Vera
will return soon with everything she needs to raze Gromhaven. We must
not be here when she returns.”
Tanja slowly stood on weak knees. The day had turned bright and
hot, she felt uncomfortable and dirtied by sweat. Hesitantly, she
allowed these most recent statements to register in her consciousness.
As Dioren awkwardly escorted her away, supporting her weak body in his
strong arm, she made her first decision. “No.” Despite the conviction
she had hoped to muster behind the words, they came out as little more
than a quiet whisper.
“What was that, my lady?”
“I will stay here. When Vera returns, I will convince her to
save these people.”
Dioren sighed heavily. So she still had her idealistic, girlish
dreams about the good in everyone, and the ability of a single person to
make a difference. Were it not such a critical moment, he would feel
remorse about the need to shatter her innocence. “How do you plan to do
that, Tanja?” The mage’s voice carried no fear, dissapointment, or
frustration in it; only a sad, resigned acceptance of an undesired fate.
Patiently, he awaited her answer.
As she pondered this question, Tanja’s inner turmoil was
evident. At last, she responded, “I will tell her to simply leave. I can
heal these people, or die trying, and Vera can move on and help others.”
“I am afraid she does not share that sentiment.” Startled by the
deep voice behind her, Tanja spun and, recognizing the face, gasped.
“Eledan?”
“Hello, Tanja.” His voice was grim, and foreboding. Behind the
gruff exterior, though, Tanja sensed uncertainty, and maybe even
sadness.
“You left Vera, didn’t you? You’ve come to help us. I knew you
were special, Eledan!” Tanja moved to hug him. Dioren snorted in
derision.
Rather than step into Tanja’s embrace, Eledan glared at Dioren.
“Stay out of this, mage!”
“Go on, Sir Knight, tell the girl why you’re here.” The mage’s
words were like acid, and he spit them from his tongue with as much
revulsion as if they had been.
Tanja leapt back in fear as the knight drew his sword and
advanced on Dioren. “Get out of my head!” he roared, and swung his heavy
blade at the young man. A shield of light appeared between the mage and
the sword, deflecting the blow with a blinding flash.
Tanja shrieked, “Stop it, now!” Ignoring her, Dioren fired a
bolt of lightning from his fingertips, which exploded into the
aggressor’s chest. Staggering backwards, Eledan was an easy target for
the mage’s booted foot, which connected with the knight’s face. Pressing
his advantage, the mage grasped the wounded man’s shoulders and sent a
magical jolt of energy into the larger man’s frame. However, Eledan did
not feel pain. Instead, he felt the shock rebound into his own body.
“Dioren!” Tanja moved towards him, prepared to cast a healing
spell. It fizzled on her lips. Turning his attention back towards his
opponent, Eledan did not need to speak a word to communicate his message
to the healer. She did not need to be told twice to stay out, as she was
obviously outclassed. Dioren straightened himself out, and prepared to
send a wolf at his enemy, when he saw a look of pure calm on the
knight’s face, and saw the inevitable in his eyes. Gritting his teeth at
the pain it inflicted upon himself, Eledan fired a Psionic Blast at the
mage, then another, and then a third. The knight raised his sword, and
prepared to plunge it into the weakened mage’s head. Tanja whispered the
words to her Healing Salve, and threw it upon her friend. It was too
little, too late. The sword penetrated the healer’s thin, white shield
and sliced through Dioren. With a scream, Tanja watched his body fall to
the ground, and his blood run into the sewage of Gromhaven, his place of
birth.