Authors: Jonathan J. Drake
Denlik turned and walked towards the door. “I must go
now. I have a ceremony to attend. For your own safety we must lock you in
this room.”
Olligh sighed. “So, what now? Can I see Lara?”
“Lara wouldn’t recognise you. She’s decided to drink
the potion and is now resting and waiting to leave this world permanently.”
“Tell me. What exactly is this potion?”
“The potion is the only way out of this mess. It
clears the mind and provides a peaceful, pain-free rest. You see, once the
mind is completely clear of irrelevant clutter, the world triggers dissipate
and the physical shell continues to decay until there’s nothing left for it to
cling to. We assume at this point that death will claim the person as intended,
thus saving them from this tormented afterlife.”
Olligh’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, assume?
You’ve forced my wife to drink this muck and you can only assume it will work?”
“No, Mage Selthnik. Your wife volunteered to drink
the potion. She’s suffered enough. When you escaped from the crypt and didn’t
take her with you, it was the final straw.”
“Fine! Give me another potion. I’ll drink the lot and
die by her side. There’s nothing more left for me here and I don’t
particularly want to spend the rest of my days in this decaying body.”
Denlik opened the door and stepped out into a
torch-lit passageway. Turning to face Olligh, he smiled wryly. “No. I have an
important task for you.”
Olligh shrugged. “Task? What task?”
“The potion you drank was not intended for you.
Thankfully, you didn’t drink much of it and your memory is slowly returning.
It'd be in our best interest for you to recover more of your memory before I
discuss the task further with you. In the meantime, rest here and remain strong.”
“No! This is ridiculous. Just tell me what you need
me to do.”
Denlik stood quietly, watching Olligh intently, his
eyes giving nothing away.
“Very well. Without a doubt you’re special, Mage
Selthnik. Only you can visit these worlds on a whim and only you can bring
these walking corpses back to us."
"What? You want me to bring these walking
corpses back here?"
"Indeed. This is your duty and this is what you
must do. Only then will normality be restored to the cosmos and only then will
you be able to rest in peace. Take your time to think about this. I'm sure
you'll agree it makes complete sense.”
With that, Denlik closed the door leaving Olligh to
ponder over his words. He felt nauseous. He now knew what he had to do but he
didn’t know how he was going to do it. Why, oh why, was everything in life so
complicated?
Olligh spent a while in the room deliberating over everything that had
occurred. From time to time he glanced into his tome of knowledge trying to memorise
the words of power. It was also a way of remembering how to focus on the cosmic
energies to achieve powerful results. Some of the words returned to him as he
read and the more he studied the tome, the more incantations he began to
remember. A few brief memories of his time as a young student at the Prestige
halls also returned. He looked up and smiled. For the first time since losing
his memory he was now beginning to feel more comfortable with whom he was, even
though much of his mind was still a blur of scrambled thoughts. He waited for
what seemed an eternity in the room. Eventually he became tired of looking
through his tome so decided to stand and stretch his aching legs.
“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled. “They’ve no right
to keep me in here like this.”
Olligh listened at the door, trying to discover if
anybody was standing on watch behind it, but all he could hear was a faint
drone in the distance. He knocked on the door, hoping for somebody to release
him, but nobody responded so he paced around the room deliberating his next
action. Suddenly an idea struck him. He reached for his tome and flicked
through the pages searching for a particular incantation. Eventually he
reached the page he wanted and smiled contentedly. Holding his hand over the
door lock, he summoned the energies of the cosmos and whispered the words of
power –
Lethius Drexston!
Concentrating the flow of energy out from his hand,
the lock shimmered briefly and Olligh was rewarded with a heavy clunk as the
mechanism turned. Cautiously, he turned the handle and opened the door
slightly. Peering through the gap, he realised he was alone. Obviously the
Dark Cloaks didn't deem him to be of significant importance if they hadn't even
assigned a guard to watch over him. He stepped out of the room and closed the
door quietly behind him. A short passageway with stone walls and carpeted
floor sloped upwards towards a great hall with impressive wooden rafters. There
was nowhere else to go so he crept along the passage towards the hall. At the
top of the slope he noticed a group of Dark Cloaks huddled around a grotesque
looking statue, chanting softly to it. Standing to one side of them was
Denlik. The High Warden reached into his robe and threw sparkling dust into
the air around his cultists. The drone-like chanting became louder and they
began to shuffle in a ritualistic circle around the statue, bowing their heads
and flinging their arms out erratically. Olligh had never seen anything quite
like it but he was glad of the distraction. As the cultists continued their
ceremony, he crept behind them and took a right turn into another passageway
through a red curtain draped over the entrance arch. Once inside, he noticed
an open door to his left and a closed door to his right. The open door led
into a large wood-panelled room. Olligh didn’t waste any time. He rushed
through the open doorway hoping to find either his wife or a clue to her
whereabouts.
In the room, a line of coffins stretched out over the
carpet from wall to wall. Each coffin was open with lids standing by their
sides and all were occupied with motionless bodies. Olligh stepped towards the
nearest coffin to take a closer look. Inside it was lined with luxurious red
velvet and the male occupant was half covered with silken sheets. He certainly
appeared comfortable with his head propped up by a small cushion and arms
positioned by his sides. Although he appeared to be in a deep sleep, Olligh
wasn’t completely certain so he leaned forward to examine him more closely.
His face was pale and gaunt with dark circles underneath his eyes and veins
bulging excessively from beneath the skin. His hair looked thin and tattered,
his scalp patchy and his mouth – well, his mouth was stitched shut with thick
green thread. Just as Olligh was about to turn away, the man’s eyes flicked
open and he gaped at Olligh
“Oh! Pardon me,” Olligh said. “I didn’t mean to
disturb your rest.”
The man panicked and sat upright, his arms waving
frantically in the air. He tried to scream but realised that something wasn’t
quite right. Feeling for his mouth, he tried unsuccessfully to pry it open
with his fingers. His face bore an expression of absolute horror.
“Please calm down,” Olligh continued. “I can help
you!”
Before the man had a chance to react to the
proposition, someone grabbed Olligh tightly around his waist and dragged him
away from the coffin. It was Denlik, the High Warden. Two more Dark Cloaks
rushed into the room. One of them reached for the coffin lid while the other
forced the man back into a sleeping position.
“Stay here and don’t move,” Denlik said, releasing his
hold on Olligh. “You’ve caused enough trouble here today.”
Denlik rushed to assist his cultists and helped to
reposition the lid over the coffin while the man inside continued to pound and
kick in a desperate bid to get out. After securing the lid in place with metal
clasps, Denlik returned his angry gaze to Olligh. The two cultists stood
behind him with their arms folded. They watched Olligh intently, almost willing
him to dare try to escape.
“This is exactly why I didn’t want you roaming about
on your own,” Denlik announced. “In this room are people like your dear wife
who've made the important decision to drink our potion and leave this life for
good.”
Olligh shrugged. “What did you expect me to do? You
had me trapped in here like a prisoner and how was I to know that you kept the
Walkers in this room for their final days.”
“Well now you know so please let’s leave it that way.”
Olligh raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Is Lara
here?”
Denlik slowly nodded and pointed to the doorway. “Yes,
she’s resting in the room opposite this one but I would ask that you don’t
venture in there or disturb her in any way.”
“Why ever not? Have you forgotten that she’s my wife?”
“Look, you’ll just frighten her like you did Garel
here. You must understand what you’re dealing with. They’ve no memory of you.
Their past is lost and they’ve only a new future to look forward to.”
“I want to see Lara. Have you stitched her mouth like
this one here?”
“Mage Selthnik, you fail to understand the reasoning
behind why we do things in a certain way. The stitching is a necessary
requirement."
"A necessary requirement?" Olligh scoffed.
"You mean it prevents them from speaking the truth about the ill-treatment
they've received from you."
"Not at all. It merely prevents the Walker from
regurgitating the potion. It also stops them from uttering incantations should
they be magically inclined. More importantly, it also provides for a more
peaceful rest.”
“A more peaceful rest for who? You?”
“Please, come with me.” Denlik turned to his
companions. “You both stay here and try to calm Garel. The usual methods
should suffice.”
The cultists nodded and returned to the coffin while
Denlik placed his arm over Olligh’s shoulder and guided him out of the room.
He pulled the door shut behind him.
“Regardless what you may think about us, we’re doing
this for you, for Chektri and for the cosmos. Once you’ve returned the lost
Walkers to us we’ll allow you to see your wife one last time.”
Denlik motioned toward the red curtain and waited for
Olligh to begin walking.
“This is difficult for me,” Olligh replied, brushing
the curtain aside. “I’m in a situation where I’ve got to place my trust in someone
and at this moment in time all I’ve got is Lara and yourself. Do you
understand my predicament?”
Denlik nodded and continued to walk by his side. “Use
your intuition, Mage Selthnik. What other motives could we possibly have?”
They reached the statue that the cultists were earlier
circling. It resembled a dancing pig with human legs and hands spread flat out
above its head. Olligh noticed a large crystal in its hands which sparkled in
the candlelight. “What’s this statue supposed to depict?”
“Don’t let it concern you. It matters not. The
crystal it holds, however, does matter greatly.”
Denlik grasped the crystal and removed it from the
statue. He cradled it tight to his chest.
"Using crystals and divination we've managed to
trace five Walkers with their minds intact. These are the only Walkers
remaining, other than you, who still retain their faculties and therefore
continue to influence the cosmos. The others are not important. They'll
eventually rot into nothing."
"Indeed," Olligh agreed. "This I can
understand. I imagine the process could be too demanding for many to
comprehend. Those with a weak will would be left to roam unfamiliar lands as
shambling, mindless fiends. I should be thankful my mind remains strong and
resolute."
"And so you should be, Mage Selthnik.
Unfortunately, we couldn't find any more information about these Walkers other
than the trail they left as they travelled through the cosmos to other
worlds."
Olligh nodded impatiently. "Yes, yes. I wouldn't
expect you to find anything more. You're not gods and it'll do you well to
remember this. Anyway, I've already got an idea where one of them is. Earlier
in my travels I met a boy stuck between worlds. The others are probably in a
similar situation. Give me the crystal and I’ll map their trails."
"Very well, but I must warn you that this task
won't be as easy as it sounds."
"Nonsense. I'm sure I'll manage this with
relative ease."
"No, Mage Selthnik. It's dangerous out there.
You may become lost or injured beyond repair."
"I'll be fine. With each world trigger I've been
regenerating to my previous state. As much as I would like to, I can't die and
my broken bones twist back into place with each jump."
"That may be so but missing limbs won't
regenerate. We've witnessed some despicable sights when Walkers have returned
to us. As well as this, it doesn't help matters when certain individuals can't
handle life as a Walker and try to end it all by drinking the remnants of one
of our potions."
Olligh glared at Denlik. "How dare you! You presume
far too much. There could’ve been innumerable reasons for me quaffing that
potion. It's not easy living life in this vile body and it's certainly no
fun."