Seven

Zen’dik looked around.  He could hear the thoughts of Lia, for the communication spell was working backwards as well.  And he discovered that he could not only dive deep within the thoughts of his wizard friend, he could also suggest them.

Brandis held his sword high, letting the ever-present light collect around it and disperse again, curiously playing with his newfound powers.  Zen’dik, meanwhile, slipped in and out of the crowd, swinging around when he could and evading the guards slyly.

The two of them walked through a huge group of people, Brandis holding his weapon high in the air as he had before.  The people all spread in awe.  Brandis knew they would not report him, they were too scared of such things.  Zen’dik saw a guard who was frowning at Brandis, fingering his spear as a smile began to creep across his face.

The frown was fake.  That guard was just trying to give the illusion that he was not about to do what he was about to do.  The spear came off the sheaf on his back.

Zen’dik quickly burst into motion, subtly slipping out of the crowd again, moving behind the guard.  He slipped his knife out of its sheath and slid it in between the shoulderblades of the guard.

As the man gave a small cry and fell to the ground, silent as the grave he would soon be in, Zen’dik once again became one with the shoving, staring crowd; shortly afterward he rolled forward, knocking several people to their knees as thoughts of revenge surged through him.

Zen’dik stood up and kept on walking, leaving the crowd of shocked townspeople standing dumb in their tracks.

Zen’dik was, indeed, having thoughts of revenge.  He was going to kill his sister for what she had done to him and his family.  And he was going to enjoy it.  He knew that, deep down.  Somehow, his sense of mercy had left him.

Brandis commented that he thought Zen’dik should have mercy on his sister, who, after all, was his sister.  Zen’dik simply commented that she was an evil tyrant who’d kill him as soon as she saw him.

And there, the conversation ended.  Brandis had actually been thinking of making Zen’dik’s sister’s death quick, but he didn’t want to risk his friend raising a commotion, as he knew that he would if he kept on.

So the two simply walked on.

Soon they found themselves at the palace gates.  Zen’dik ran up and rapped on the door.  He was immediately greeted by a servant to the empress.  “Hello,” he said.  “What is your wish this day?”

“We are here to report to the empress with important information,” Zen’dik lied.  Brandis nodded and sheathed his sword.

“Sorry about that,” Brandis said.  “I had to break up a riot back there.”

The servant nodded.  “Aye, there’s always a riot these days.”  He nodded again and showed Zen’dik and Brandis into the palace.  “Right his way,” he said.

Zen’dik and Brandis were lead by the servant to a chamber where the empress stood.  She was a horribly disformed skeletal figure, once a living woman.  I can’t believe this is my sister, Zen’dik thought.  The figure walked over to Zen’dik and Brandis, her cane slapping on the ground.

The hunched-over figure scanned over Zen’dik and Brandis.  “You,” she said, pointing at the mercenary, “Who are you?”

Zen’dik looked around.  “He is Brandis, a mercenary who has been hired into your Glorious service,” he said with no small amount of false humility. “And why was I not notified?” The hollow, rattling voice of the skeletal figure rang through the chamber.  “Why have you done this without first telling me?”

“I apologize, Empress.”

The empress knew something was wrong.  “Ths will be the last time you have failed me,” she said, swinging her staff in an arc around her.  Flame sprouted forth from the end, then scorched Zen’dik as it slammed into him.

But the fire was his ally.  The disguise instantly dropped, and Zen’dik was revealed for what he truly was, walking forward and drawing his sword and knife out of their scabbards.

Brandis drew his sword out of its sheath and let the light reappear to collect around the weapon.  The mercenary walked forward and swung his sword, slashing into the empress’s body.

“Fools!” the empress yelled.  “You do not know what I am!  Brother, you should not have come here.  You don’t understand what’s happening to me.  I can’t control it...”  Immediately she stopped speaking, and an expresion of rage spread across her face, contorting its minimal, skeletal features.

For a moment, she ceased to move.  Then a look of sorrow went across her skeletal features once more.  “I’m sorry, brother.  I can’t stay in control for very long.”  She cried out in pain and drove the staff into her stomach.  It crackled with energy, threatening to tear her asunder.  “I hope you’ll forgive me,” she whispered, then her body shuddered and the skeletal form fell to dust.

----------

Vale, sister to Zen’dik, lay on the ground next to a small, blue, glowing box.  It was about two inches at each edge and a perfect cube, floating around in the area inside the cave.  She looked around.  Am I dead? She asked herself, but found the answer quickly.  “No,” she said as she looked down at herself, “I’m not dead.”  She was undead, just as she had been.

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Zen’dik looked around.  “What... why did she do that?” he asked.  Brandis searched around, prodding the ground with his sword.  Zen’dik stepped forward, crushing his boot into the pile of dust and pounding it down into even less than what it was.  “A trick,” he whispered.  “We can’t let her come back.  She’ll just be reborn deep in some cave, where her phylactery is no doubt hidden.

Nodding, Brandis thrust his sword into the dust and closed his eyes.  Thoughts of rage coursed through his mind, and then all was released.  The sword gave forth a burst of blinding, searing light that burned the dust away to nothingness.  

“Now,” Zen’dik said, rubbing his hands together, “To find that phylactery...”

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Lia, Zen’dik, and Brandis sat around a small circular table, sharing the last meal they would have before advancing into the dangerous mountains.  There they hoped to find Vale’s phylactery and destroy it, vanquishing her once and for all.  Brandis refused to eat, instead passing his place on to Zen’dik and claiming that he had all the nourishment he needed.  The dim light glowing around him reminded his friends constantly, to no end, of the pact he’d been forced to make with the divine entity that had restored life to his battered body.

Lia’s staff, leaned against the table next to her, seemed to be speaking to the light, glowing in some sort of strange code as the light surrounding Brandis did the same in response.  “Lia,” he said, “Your staff is talking.”

Lia sighed.  “What?” she asked, placing her hand palm-down on the table.  She had heard what Brandis had said perfectly, but simply didn’t understand how that was possible.  “I don’t hear anything.”  Yet she realized that the staff’s strange glow was obviously some form of communication.  “Can you hear it, or do you just understand what it’s doing?”

Brandis looked at Lia oddly and said, “Both.”

Zen’dik raised his mug to revenge, took a huge gulp of the beverage, and promptly passed out.