Abyss Read online

  Abyss

  Finnian Valko

  Copyright 2019 Finnian Valko

  For Jamie.

  Thank you for existing.

  Chapter 1 – Lamia

  Lamia Wnorowski tapped her index finger on the old wooden table. Normally this business was something she would have wrapped up twenty minutes ago. A lone bandit, obviously in town to scout it out and report back to his band, was not exactly something she had no experience with. To the contrary, she had run out many a drifter in the past without hesitation. This time however, she sensed something was off though she was unable to specify exactly what it was in her mind’s eye.

  The man who sat before Lamia had his arms crossed in a slouched pose that wreaked of either apathy or arrogance, though it was impossible to say which. It was difficult to get a read on his facial expression in the dim room with only a single candle for light, but Lamia could make out an unenthused scowl just above the rogue’s chiseled jawline. A length of light brown hair hung just above his piercing blue eyes, the rest of his head concealed underneath a black hood.

  “Perhaps that is what’s troubling me?” Lamia thought. The rogue that sat before her looked the part with an outfit that was completely black and a short-sword and dagger hanging loose off his belt. But he had made no attempt to blend in. Zero effort went into concealing himself from wary eyes. Any bandits that had entered town before had at least tried to dress the part of a simple farmer or merchant, but this man had not. So, either he was extremely stupid or…

  Lamia shook her head. The man was not dumb. She sensed there was a deep intelligence in this drifter, which meant he had not bothered to conceal himself for some other reason. What that reason could be, however, she had no idea.

  “I’ll ask again,” Lamia said. “What are you doing in Marston?”

  A slightly audible “Hmph” could be heard underneath the drifter’s otherwise silent scowl. “I told you already: I’m just passing through.”

  “Oh?” Lamia questioned. “This town is out in the middle of nowhere. Where are you headed?”

  “That’s not your concern,” the drifter replied. “What? Are people suddenly not allowed to stop in a nice quiet town for a few days to get some rest?”

  “Certainly,” Lamia said, gazing at her verbal opponent through autumn eyes. “But generally, those passing through town tend to stay at this little place called an inn. I understand it’s much cozier than the wooden roof of a random house you opted to sleep on instead. You startled everyone around when you jumped down this morning.”

  “Yea,” the rogue said, smirking. “Sorry about that. The inn was too pricy, and I needed some place to crash.”

  “You were trespassing.” Lamia said authoritatively. “You had no business on that roof except to scout the area for presumed thievery.”

  “Excuse you.” The rogue seemed offended at the notion that he was a thief. “Listen, babe, I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

  “B-babe!?” Lamia replied. She felt her face flush, and she was suddenly grateful it was so dark in the room.

  The rogue shrugged. “What? You’re easily the prettiest Ouroboros to hold me for questioning. Just stating a fact.”

  Lamia scowled. “So, you’ve been arrested before? By the Order?”

  The rogue seemed to shift in his seat. It was a clear tell that he felt he had said too much. “Questioned. Held. Never arrested.”

  “Good enough for me,” Lamia said, feeling a sense of triumph. She reached back and knocked loudly on the door just behind her.

  A guard opened the door and poked his head inside. The room flooded with light and slightly blinded the two occupants. “Ma’am?” the guard said.

  “Guardsman, take this thief and escort him out of the town’s limits. He is not to return to Marston,” ordered Lamia.

  The rogue shrugged. “Hardly the first time.” He stood up and headed for the door.

  The guard motioned towards the door. “Come on, then. Come quietly.”

  “Uh huh,” said the rogue apathetically. He glanced back before exiting the room. “I wasn’t kidding, by the way. You’re the prettiest by far. Perfect eyes.” He smirked.

  Lamia scoffed. “Get out. I don’t want to see you here again.”

  Shrugging again, the rogue did as he was told and allowed the guard to escort him out of the room and out of town. “Lovely meeting you,” he said on his way out. There was a twinge of sarcasm in his tone. He began to hum a tune to himself as he walked out of town.

  When she heard the door close behind her, Lamia pounded her fist down on the table. She was happy to have gotten rid of the man, but there was a twinge in her chest. It was like a nerve spiking, as if her emotions were trying to break through. She felt like she was still missing a piece of this puzzle. Why had that man been in town? What was he after? It was easy to accuse him of thievery and be done with it, and that is precisely what she had done, but the feeling would not leave her that she was still missing something.

  Standing up, Lamia pushed the thoughts away. It was not worth stressing her mind over one strange drifter. The man was gone and that was that. She blew out the candle and made her way for the door. She shielded her eyes as the sunlight flooded back into the room.

  Stepping outside, Lamia found herself smiling despite her paranoid thoughts. The town of Marston had been her chosen place to be a Warden for less than a year, and already she had seen notable improvements in everything from the local’s attitudes to the infrastructure.

  Prior to Lamia arriving, Marston has been viewed as a town of twigs built by poor islanders who did not deserve the benefit of proper protection by the Order. Her superiors back on the mainland of Alaradd had done a double-take when they realized she was serious about becoming the Warden for Marston. Every member of Ouroboros chose a city or town to be a Warden for: an elite guardian responsible for maintaining the safety and well-being of the local citizens. It was a basic duty given to all Order members once they achieved status as a full Knight of Ouroboros, as Lamia had done just recently.

  But most chose locations that were far less rural, or at the very least on the mainland. No one had even implied they were interested in guarding such a remote farming village stuck on an island, but Lamia was sincere in her request. She believed all were entitled to the Order’s protection, regardless of how remote. So, seeing nothing technically wrong with her request, her superiors had allowed Lamia to become the Warden of Marston.

  At first, Lamia had a tough time earning the local’s trust. Just by appearances, Lamia stuck out like a sore thumb. Her armor was ornate: light green and handcrafted by the Order’s finest artisans. The shield she carried was special as well: it was called Jörmungandr. It was forged in a magic alloy, making it completely unbreakable and giving it a dim glow. The symbol of a great serpent biting its tail graced the item’s face. It was one of a kind and legends say it was first wielded by the founder of the Order. Lamia had earned it, but to the High Council’s chagrin, in a test of combat.

  Even Lamia’s shoes were distinctive: they were her only actual weapons. Early on in her career, Lamia disliked the notion of swords. She found them too basic and felt they gave the Order an aura of menace that she disliked. Her superiors argued with her, but Lamia simply refused to wield a sword. Instead, Lamia opted for an unusual set of footwear: a pair of double-pronged heels modeled like viper fangs. The blades were sharp enough to rend flesh and pierce armor. She had worn them for so long that they no longer caused her any sort of discomfort. For her, it was as if wearing normal shoes despite sometimes having difficulty in muddy terrain.

  This also meant that Lamia’s fighting style was a bizarre mix of shield bashes and high kicks, making her unique even among her own peers. While among farmers and peasants, she was initially treated with animosity and even scorn. The locals saw her as a spoiled aristocrat who was only there to gawk and tell them how to live their lives. This was despite the fact that Lamia had had an upbringing that could hardly be called privileged. She had to work hard and take a lot of abuse before she was able to convince the citizens that she genuinely cared and wanted to help.

  Given enough time, however, Lamia was able to win over most of the locals. She helped rebuild old rotted homes, set up a regular merchant trade from the capital, and even started a small platoon of volunteer guardsman. The local port, just a few miles to the north, now thrived with ships making regular trips to and from the island. She had not come to Marston to get anyone’s approval, but time had allowed Lamia to go from a rejected outsider to a respected local celebrity and hero.

  “Hey! Hey Lamia! Hey!”, came a quirky female voice from down the path.

  Lamia did not acknowledge the voice at first. She was looking towards the distant woods to see that her guardsman had made it back safely. “Yes, Jordianna? How can I help you today?”

  Trotting up to Lamia was a rather short girl, appearing quite a bit younger than her twenty-two years would suggest. She had side-brushed blonde hair and wore a clean, pink dress. She looked somewhat like a doll, and indeed she looked almost as out of place in the farming village as Lamia did.

  “Did you chase off the nice guy?” Jordianna asked.

  Lamia simply rolled her eyes. “Jordy, come on now. He was obviously a bandit. You know better than to-”

  “Would you stop talking to me like a child! Just because you’ve almost got half a meter on me doesn’t mean I’m a kid!” Jordy snapped. “I tried to tell you he was nice when I talked to him. I just think you jumped the gun throwing him out.”

&nbs
p; “You had a five-minute conversation with him during which he told you literally nothing,” Lamia replied.

  Jordianna had been the source of much support since Lamia had arrived in town. The daughter of one of the farmhands, the cheerful blonde was one of the most talented healers Lamia had ever seen. Jordy was able to mend almost any kind of wound, and given the emotional nature of magic the fact she was so gifted without any formal training was impressive. Jordy was also the first one to give Lamia any sort of trust, and the healer had been exceedingly helpful in gaining the town’s confidence. Lamia liked her, despite Jordy’s opinionated and oftentimes impulsive nature.

  “That’s not true,” Jordy replied. “He told me about his sword. Did you think to even ask why the middle is dull?”

  “The fact that he had a sword was reason enough for me to get him out of town,” Lamia said. Though she had to appreciate Jordy’s observation. The rogue’s short-sword had been an odd shape: sharp at the tip and base but curved inward towards the middle to a dull edge. “What did he even say about it?”

  “Not much.” Jordy admitted. “Just that it suits his needs. Whatever that means.”

  “So, nothing then. Wonderful. Why are we still talking about this?”

  “I just think you should have at least tried being nice to him. You were a little rude,” Jordy said.

  Lamia shrugged. She knew she could be a bit abrasive, but that was part of her approach to her job. “I did what I had to do, Jordy.”

  “Whatever you say,” replied Jordy. “Can we-”

  Jordianna was interrupted by the sound of cries for help. It was coming from the woods. Lamia turned to see her panicked guardsman running at full speed towards her.

  “Ma’am! Ma’am!” cried the guardsman.

  “What is it!?” snapped Lamia running towards the man. “Did that rogue attack you!?”

  “No, ma’am!” the winded guard said. “He left! Fire! The outskirt cabin! It’s on fire! I was on my way back when I saw it!”

  “That’s where the Freemonte family lives!” said Jordy.

  “Gather the men and tell them to get buckets for water!” ordered Lamia. “Jordy, you come with me now and let’s make sure nobody is injured!”

  “You got it!” Jordy replied and her and Lamia dashed into the woods towards the pillar of smoke slowly rising in the distance.

  Chapter 2 – The Last One You Would Expect

  By the time Lamia and Jordy arrived at the cabin it was far too late to even consider saving it. The fire had engulfed the wooden structure and no amount of water would keep it from burning to the ground.

  “Terrace, get a headcount!”, a gruff man in suspenders said to his oldest son. “Is everyone here?”

  The Freemontes were the largest family in the town: Mr. and Mrs. Freemonte had raised fourteen kids together and had lived a bit distanced from the rest of the village. They had preferred to dwell on their own and had done so successfully for years. But now the family could only watch as their home was engulfed in the merciless blaze.

  “…eleven, twelve, thirteen, hey where’s Martha at!?” said the oldest son.

  Mr. Freemonte looked around in a sudden panic. “Martha!?”, he said. “Martha, princess, are you here!?”

  Horrified, the family quieted and realized they could hear the sound of screaming coming from inside their home.

  “Martha’s in there!”, cried Mrs. Freemonte.

  Mr. Freemonte began to make a mad dash for the house, but Lamia sprinted towards him and grabbed him.

  “Leggo!”, Mr. Freemonte shouted. “My little girl is still in there!”

  “And that blaze is too hot for you to just rush in!” Lamia said, tightening her grip. “Let us handle it! I’ve got the men on their way here with water buckets and-”

  Mr. Freemonte continued to struggle. “We don’t have time! I have to get to her right now!”

  Lamia was about to continue arguing with him, when a black blur passed through her peripheral vision. She turned only too late to see that someone had just dashed inside the burning home.

  “Who was that!?” Lamia shouted. “Not another one of the family!?”

  “No!” replied Jordy. “It was him! The one you ran out of town!”

  “The drifter!?” Lamia said. “What the hell is he even doing here!?”

  There was a moment of silence in between the shouts. Everyone seemed to realize that the little girl’s screams from within the home had ceased.

  “Martha?” Mr. Freemonte whispered aloud.

  The seconds passed by as hours would and then all at once a tiny voice cried out from the house. “Daddy! Mommy!” Martha, the little girl, ran out of the burning home. She was covered in ash and dirt, but other than some minor burns she seemed unharmed.

  “Princess!” cried Mr. Freemonte running forward and embracing his daughter.

  Jordy ran over and began muttering an incantation to heal some of the Martha’s wounds.

  “That man!” Martha cried. “That man who pulled me out! He’s stuck! Something fell on him! He told me to run!”

  “He’s still inside!?” Lamia replied. She weighed her options and she found herself conflicted. She had wanted to run that man out of town, but now he had just saved a little girl. Could she really just leave him to die in there?

  “Damn it,” Lamia said to herself as she ran towards the burning cabin.

  “Lamia, what are you doing!?” Jordy shouted.

  “Stay here!” Lamia ordered. “I’ll be right back!”

  Lamia felt a moment of hesitation as the heat emanating from the cabin hit her face. She knew she was hardly in a position to enter the home right now and her armor was not at all the kind of protection she needed from the flames. But that twinge in her chest would not leave her. There was something about this man that she found perplexing, and even if that were not the case she could not just leave him to die.

  Raising her shield over her head to protect herself from falling debris, Lamia forced herself into the sweltering heat of the burning cabin. She could feel her skin singe as if sunburned as she made her way forward.

  “Hello!?” Lamia shouted. She mentally kicked herself for not first asking Martha where exactly the rogue had been trapped. She had no idea where to start looking and she could feel the floor beneath her heels buckle under her weight. This whole place could collapse at any time and the flames licked at her face, threatening to consume her.

  Lamia began to consider giving up, but at that moment she heard a lightly audible groan to her left. “Hello!?” she shouted again.

  Then Lamia saw him: the rogue was pinned underneath a fallen support beam. He appeared to be only partially conscious. She moved over to him, putting her shield down, and with considerable effort lugged the beam off of the rogue. She picked him up over her shoulder and held her shield aloft over the both of them, then began making her way out of the doomed cabin.

  “Lamia!” Jordy shouted as she saw her friend exit the flames.

  Lamia breathed a sigh of relief as she collapsed to her knees and set the rogue down on the grass. It was only now that she had a moment to really look at him that she realized how badly hurt he was. The rogue was badly singed on his exposed forearms, and his face was flushed with burns.

  “Lamia, your face!” Jordy said running over.

  Lamia nodded. Her face felt hot. She knew she must have the start of a nasty burn as well. “Don’t worry about me. Work on him.”

  “We need to get him back to town!” Jordy said. “These burns are too bad for my spells alone! We need to get Doctor Albright!”

  Lamia nodded, and she saw that her guardsman had finally arrived with water. “Let the men clean up here,” she said to Jordy. “We need to save this rogue’s life. I need to talk with him.”

  Chapter 3 – Verial

  “That man is a hero!” Mr. Freemonte said in protest. “You mean to tell me I can’t even thank the man who saved my daughter’s life!?”

  Lamia sat, arms crossed, as Jordy worked a spell over the burns on her face. Lamia’s condition has improved greatly in the day that had passed since the fire and her face was almost completely healed. However, the rogue was in a much graver state. The burns had been one thing; magic worked wonders on them. But he had taken a nasty blow to the head. Dr. Albright, the local physician, had done all she could. Now it was a waiting game to see if the man regained consciousness.