The Final Redemption Read online

  That’s a big animal, I noted mentally. Even fear seemed to have taken a vacation. Without stopping to consider that my magic was gone, I spoke, “Shibal.” Then I had the familiar sensation of aythar moving and the massive creature slumped to the ground.

  I felt slightly weaker as well.

  It seems my magic isn’t entirely gone after all, I thought. Using my magesight I tried to look inward once more, and as before, I saw the same black void that had replaced my center. It seemed different though, as if it contained an energy of its own. The antithesis of aythar, I decided. Perhaps I had accumulated the power from the animals that had died around me while I slept in the cave. There wasn’t any way I could be sure.

  “Yes there is,” I said to myself then, and glancing down I appraised the bear slumbering before me. Reaching out I put my hand on its shoulder, and immediately I could feel its strength pouring into me. The great beast was a wellspring of aythar, and within its body I could sense the fire that represented the source of its vitality. Without conscious effort, my body drew at that source, pulling and absorbing everything there. The sensation I experienced during this was akin to being thrust into a fast moving river, a rushing cold sensation as the power flooded into me.

  My emotions remained dead however, and I felt no pity as the majestic creature’s inner fire dwindled and died under my hands. It was dead now, an empty lump of flesh, though I still retained a thin, dark connection with it. Even as I watched I could sense it beginning to draw life from other things around it. Plants, small insects, and things even tinier—everything in contact with the bear’s corpse was dying, while a small dark core within the beast began to grow. It was becoming a monster, an undead beast similar to those that Harold and I fought years before, when we encountered Thillmarius within an underground cave.

  Even numb as I was, I had no desire to follow in his evil footsteps. With a small effort of will I severed the link between myself and the dead bear. The darkness within it faltered and began to fade. Within moments it was nothing more than a corpse. Clearly any creatures that might be created by my feeding were connected to the spell-weaving that maintained me. Sever that link, and they withered away. I wondered about the other shiggreth that were linked to me.

  I hadn’t created them personally, but the links were still there. If they created others, were those linked to them, or to me? If I managed to destroy myself, would it end the entire miserable chain of cursed undead? Would humanity be safe then? I had too many questions, and even my best guesses were full of uncertainty.

  Do I care? Do I want to die? I wondered, but even those questions were devoid of feeling. I pondered those thoughts as I continued traveling, but without my emotions I simply couldn’t decide. Eventually I gave up and shifted my attention to exploring my ability to drain the energy from living things.

  The bear had given me an incredible amount of strength, possibly more than I normally would have possessed if I had been alive again. The main drawback, as far as I could tell, was that it was limited. Once I used the power I had taken, it was gone. Unlike my natural aythar, it didn’t renew itself with time. That wasn’t too much of a limitation however, so long as I didn’t mind killing things, and given my present state of mind, that didn’t seem like a real problem.

  I knew that soon enough I would be reaching Albamarl, and while I still couldn’t find any real reason or purpose behind traveling there, I knew that if I was recognized, or if someone discovered my nature, I would be forced to fight those whom I had once loved and protected—or let them destroy me. None of those thoughts really worried me, though I was well aware that they should. Rather than leave things to chance I decided to experiment with my new power.

  I killed numerous small animals, putting them to sleep first so that I could touch them. I tried simply willing myself not to draw the aythar from them, but that failed completely. My life-drain seemed to be an entirely involuntary thing, requiring only physical contact. After a while I stopped using animals; plants were much simpler to find and didn’t require any spells to keep them from escaping. The small plants I used didn’t have a lot of aythar to offer, but traveling through a forest there was an almost endless supply.

  Eventually I learned the trick to not killing them. By creating a personal shield around myself, I could keep myself from inadvertently absorbing aythar. It was very similar to the shields I had used for years before my unfortunate transformation. As long as I kept it close against my skin, it was virtually undetectable to a non-mage, even if they touched me, and it made sure that no true physical contact occurred. I also discovered that I could alter its permeability with a certain amount of effort, which allowed me to drain energy more slowly. It might make it possible to feed without always killing the victim, I noted.

  Technically I could do that now by limiting the duration of contact, but in practice it was hard to force myself to stop once I had actually touched something with my bare skin.

  I thought about that and many other things as I walked on through the bright days and empty nights.

  Chapter 3

  Albamarl was much as I remembered it, and yet it still seemed different. The multitude of buildings faced in rose granite did nothing to warm me. The city felt just as dead as I was, much like everything else I had encountered. I seem doomed to a cold empty existence, I told myself silently, and I can’t even summon enough feeling to be depressed about it.

  As I wandered the city avenues in the late afternoon sun I thought of Thillmarius. He had seemed full of rage when we had fought. Where had his anger come from? Surely after years trapped in the body of a small boy he couldn’t have still retained that much emotion? That was disregarding consideration of the thousands of years he had spent in some sort of bodiless limbo, yet he had been angry.

  “I’m the last lore-warden of the She’Har and my people created the gods. No matter what your bestial kind achieves, you’ll never be more than animals in our eyes!” Thillmarius had told me near the end. The bitter hatred in his voice couldn’t have been faked. He had told me something else as well, which had turned out to be an uncanny prediction of my fate, “Everyone gets a happy ending but you.”

  “At least I survived,” I responded aloud to the memory. It didn’t feel like a victory, though. It felt like—nothing.

  “You look lonely,” said an unfamiliar woman’s voice. “Why would a handsome young man like yerself be without a lady friend?”

  The words should have startled me, but they didn’t, I just hadn’t expected anyone to speak to me. I had wandered into one of Albamarl’s seedier districts, near the river docks. A glance at the woman and her overdone rouge told me quickly enough why she had called out to me. She was a prostitute.

  “I’m married,” I answered tonelessly, although the thought made me wonder. Was I? If I had truly died Penny would be considered a widow now, free to seek a new husband. I knew the thought should upset me, but like everything else it failed to stir my listless heart.

  While I mulled those thoughts over the woman moved closer. She was near enough now that I’d have been uncomfortable if I were still capable of such a thing. Her breath was warm and I could see fine wrinkles around her eyes. She was probably a bit over thirty and a hard life had left its marks upon her. How long before she can’t continue this profession? I wondered.

  “You’re a quiet one, love. Married doesn’t mean much around here,” she told me, leaning closer and putting her hand playfully on my chest. “Why don’t you let me take you home and warm you up? You seem cold.” She tilted her head as she spoke, looking at me through half-lidded eyes.

  Her actions were meant to tempt me, of that I had no doubt, but of course they had no discernible effect. I focused my will tightly; making sure my shield would prevent me from inadvertently drawing her life-force away if she happened to brush my skin. “I’m not lonely,” I answered bluntly. “You shouldn’t touch me.”

  My words made her pause for a second and her eyes locked on mine.
“I’ve seen eyes like that before, love, though never so sad as yours. Everyone’s lonely, love. Why not let Sweet Myrtle ease your pain for a while?” She lifted her hand to my cheek. “So cold,” she remarked, “let me warm you up. Surely a man like you can afford to sit by my fire for a while?”

  I had forgotten my attire. Tattered and bedraggled as my garments were, they gave some indication of my former wealth. The material was too good and the tailoring had been exemplary, even though they had been traveling clothes. “Please…,” I began, intending to finish with ‘leave me alone’, but I didn’t get to finish. Rising on her toes, Myrtle put her lips to mine.

  My shield protected her for a split second, until her tongue darted out to slip between my lips, and then something remarkable happened. Aythar unlike any I had experienced before, poured into me filling me with warmth; the world seemed to grow brighter around me. Her body jerked for a second as her life began flowing into me and her hands rose to push against my chest, an instinctive response to try and save herself from the empty void within me. My arms had already locked around her though, and I held the back of her head with my right hand.

  An ecstatic rush of emotion flowed through me, coloring the world around me in brilliant hues that washed away the empty grey that had existed before. Passion, an emotion I hadn’t felt since awakening, built within me, and impossibly I felt my heart begin to beat. My own tongue was moving now as I continued the kiss that Myrtle had begun. She began to sag in my arms, but I hadn’t had enough, so I cradled her, lowering her slowly to the ground.

  I wanted it all.

  The taste of her lips, the softness of her flesh aroused parts of me that I had thought gone forever. In the pleasure of that moment, I considered undressing her so that I could explore the secrets of her body. I hadn’t felt the joy of such intimacy since…

  …Penny.

  I released her suddenly, letting her sag senseless to the cold cobblestone road. My face twisted with pain as the enormity of what I had lost crashed over me. My breath came in short gasps as I struggled to contain the torrent of grief that threatened to overwhelm me. How had I forgotten this? I’ve lost everything.

  I crouched there, stricken with a sadness too great to endure for an unknowable time, before eventually remembering the woman lying beside me. My initial fear was that she might be dead, but my senses quickly dispelled that notion. Her chest was moving as she breathed, her heart still beat, and within I could sense the flickering of her aythar. She would recover.

  Staring at her face I saw her in a new light. Where before she had seemed unimportant, I now felt the urgency of her heartbeat, the precious struggle for life that continued even as I watched her body working to recover from the life-sapping kiss we had shared. I almost killed her, I thought remorsefully. My existence can only bring death now; no good can come from it. At that the images of my children came unbidden to my mind, assailing me with another barrage of sorrow as I remembered their smiles, their love, and their trust.

  “My touch would kill them,” I said aloud, as if I was speaking to the unconscious Myrtle lying before me.

  “What’s going on here?!”

  The voice behind me was loud and masculine. My senses identified the speaker as a member of the city guard, one of Lord Hightower’s men, before I rose and turned to face him. “This woman seems to have fainted, guardsman,” I responded, using a tone of command that was almost instinctive to me now. “Give me a hand and perhaps we can find someone who knows her.” I stared boldly into his face hoping he would respond to my authority without asking too many questions.

  That proved to be a mistake. While I didn’t recognize him, the guardsman’s face showed astonishment and recognition as he saw my features. “Count Cameron?” he said hesitantly before stopping with a look of confusion. “Begging your pardon, Your Excellency, but…” he paused awkwardly.

  “What?” I asked, letting my annoyance show. Of all the rotten luck, encountering one of the guardsmen who would recognize me!

  “You are supposed to be dead, my lord. There was a huge funeral, mourners…” the guard stared at me before finishing, “… the King gave a speech.”

  “Listen, this really isn’t the best time for this,” I told him.

  “They said the shiggreth…,” the man stopped, and then his eyes flicked downward to stare at the unmoving prostitute. “She’s dead isn’t she?”

  I could see the alarm growing in his eyes as he backed away, one hand scrabbling for something around his neck. Before I could say more, he brought out a whistle and began blowing on it, piercing my ears with its shrill cry, summoning aid. He was calling for the watch.

  “Shibal,” I said quickly, but the spell had no effect. I had forgotten that Walter and I had provided the city guard with protective necklaces years ago. People were staring at me now, looking out of windows and stepping out of doorways. I would be surrounded soon, and any nearby guardsmen would already be running in this direction.

  “Son of a bitch,” I muttered angrily, and then I spoke a few hasty words, summoning up a thick fog. I put a lot of force into it, and within moments the surrounding area was blanketed in a thick and impenetrable cloud.

  People cried out in fear at the unnatural mist, while the guard continued blowing on his whistle.

  Ignoring them all, I bent down to lift the unconscious woman, making certain my shield was in place before I touched her. She couldn’t survive another of my life draining touches, nor was I sure my sanity would endure it either. Her aythar had filled me with something new, emotion. It had brought me to life again, though I could tell my heart beat was beginning to slow already.

  She seemed light as I cradled her in my arms, carrying her through the fog. I had no idea where she lived or whether it was safe to simply leave here somewhere so I just kept walking, renewing the mists whenever they began to thin and using my magesight to avoid contact with the few people that ventured into the fog. An alarm had gone up, presumably that a shiggreth was loose in the city, though I wasn’t sure.

  What I did know was that nearly every door was locked, and most people had shuttered their windows as if a storm was brewing. My magesight revealed many people huddling in their homes, a lot of them praying to the shining gods, which mildly irritated me.

  It also felt good to be irritated. The feelings and sensations that accompanied my emotions, any emotions, were so incredible as to make it difficult to remain properly irritated. Even my heartache was a welcome change to the endless grey I had lived with for the past few weeks.

  “It feels good to be alive, even when sad and miserable,” I noted. The thought was a new revelation to me. After enduring so much time without passion, motivation, desire, or any other sort of true feeling, I was learning now that even negative emotions were preferable to none at all. “Emotions are like flavors, sweet, salty, bitter… each has its place, and each is worth experiencing,” I posited out loud.

  I was brought out of my reverie by a groan from Myrtle, who I still carried in my arms. I watched her carefully, and felt sure that she would awaken soon. Putting her carefully down I moved away, far enough that her eyes wouldn’t be able to find me in the fog, though I remained close enough to assist if she turned out to need more help.

  Waiting, I watched as she gradually regained consciousness. Using a bit more of my stolen magic, I disguised myself as an old man before creating a wind to disperse the dense fog that cloaked the streets. In the distance I had already sensed armed parties of guardsmen beginning to walk the streets. I knew there might soon be Knights of Stone among them, if any were in the city. It was time for me to leave.

  I began working my way out of the immediate area, all the while keeping my magesight trained on Myrtle. I had to be sure she made it home safely. I walked slowly, in keeping with my disguise, and I managed to leave the dockside district without being stopped more than once. The guardsmen asked a few simple questions before letting me continue on my way.

  My inner eye h
owever, remained on the wayward woman who was now resting in a small apartment. She had trudged there wearily after awakening where I had left her. I made a mental note of where she lived, though I couldn’t say why I did so.

  Once I had reassured myself that the woman would be alright, I turned my thoughts back to my family and thoughts of the past. They were painful memories, primarily because they represented things I could no longer have. My only solace was that they were safe. If nothing else, I had protected them, and one more threat had been removed. Thillmarius had been given his final rest and the shiggreth, while still dangerous, were under my control—maybe.

  I hadn’t tested the notion yet, but I was already certain I could find them through the links between them and the spell-weaving that now maintained my existence. Such links might enable me to command them, or put them to other uses. It was even possible I could destroy them without bothering to track them down. At the very least, if I managed to find a way to end my own cursed life and undo the spell-weaving that bound me, they should pass away as well.

  I intended to test those theories before doing anything drastic though, and at the moment I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to escape the world anymore. My experience with Myrtle had given me something to savor, a bit of hope. Perhaps things didn’t have to be as dark and bleak as I had imagined.

  What if I just took a little, from lots of different people?

  If I only needed power, plants and animals were enough, though humans seemed to be a much richer source. What I worried about was the loss of my humanity. The intensity of my emotions had already dulled a bit and I assumed they would continue to fade. How long before I would be completely dull and lifeless again? Once I had returned to that condition could I fully trust myself to follow the wishes of my more human self? What if I killed someone while trying to recharge my humanity?