Descent Into Darkness (Book 2) (24 page)

The Saniteal dominated the conversation during the late night hours with stories that Ean had mostly heard already, except embellished even more. Whenever he would start one, Ean would immediately zone out and stare down into his mug. Azalea seemed interested at first, but she too slowly got tired of listening to the man speak about himself. While Ean pretended to listen, Azalea made a show of NOT listening; yawning loudly, turning to talk to the people seated around them, even going so far as to try speaking directly over what Iacane was saying.

But the Saniteal continued, the amount of drinks he had in him either making him not realize what she was doing or not caring. It finally took the man placing his head down on the table and passing out for him to quiet down, but even in his sleep he continued to mumble as if he was continuing his stories. That was the signal that the three of them should call it a night.

Leaving Iacane in the capable and stronger hands of some of the caravan workers to get him back to his tent, Ean and Azalea headed back to the collection of wagons. By this point Ean was a bit wobbly and happy to accept Azalea's help in making their way back. At the beginning of their walk, they kept silent, with Ean's arm draped around the Yulari's shoulder, but some thoughts that had always been swirling around in Ean's mind finally slipped out of his mouth.

"Azalea," Ean said, trying his best not to slur his words. "Why are you sticking around? What did you and Zin agree on?"

"What can I say," the Yulari laughed, keeping her attention straight ahead. "I'm a fan of the corruption and greed that exists in this world. It's an unending supply of nourishment and tastes much sweeter than the creatures I feed off of in the Abyss."

"That's not all of it, and you know it."

She was silent for a time, trudging with him past the flickering light of the few lamps lit on the main street. The tiny flames did little to illuminate much past the building walls they were attached to and sent shadows running around inside of the windows and down the alleys. When Azalea finally answered, her voice was lower and had an inflection that Ean had never heard from her before.

"Do you know what the Abyss is really like, Ean?"

"I pictured it as a place where all of the creatures created by Ze'an are running around together. Zin said it's divided into different levels, and some creatures control those levels. He also said it's a horrible place for his kind."

"Your imp friend is right, but it's much more than that, even if you are a more powerful creature. Unless you are at the top of the food chain, it's a constant battle for survival. It's a fight to control those weaker than you, so that you in turn can use them and not become controlled by those stronger than you. It's a battle to not become someone's possession, used up and tossed aside on a whim. And that's not just by other creatures stronger than you, it's by your own kind as well. I'm considered young for my kind, which means the majority of the older and stronger members of my race could easily snatch me away and use me for whatever they wished. There is no peace in the Abyss, no safety."

Azalea paused for a moment, making Ean stop as well. Turning to him, Ean could actually see pain in her slightly squinted eyes and downturned lips. And although the alcohol might be playing a part in his thoughts, he actually believed it to be a genuine emotion from the Yulari.

"This, Ean," she said, waving a hand that took in the two of them and then the rest of the world, "is peace. This is freedom."

Hoisting Ean into a better position, she turned away and started them moving again. Through the fog of his ale-laden mind, Ean tried to process what the Yulari had said.

"But you're not free," he finally got out. "You're tied to me just as tightly I'm sure as you would have been to some strong creature in the Abyss."

"And a creature in the Abyss would have used my mind, body, and spirit in any way they wanted. Do you plan on using me in the same way?"

"Of course not!" Ean said quickly.

"And that, my boy, is why I consider our relationship as being free." A small smile touched the corner of her lip. "I can handle the rules you put in place because to survive in this world undetected, I would probably have to follow those rules anyway. Plus, I find your own inner conflicts interesting."

"My own inner conflicts? What do--"

"Enough questions, my little human. I feel like we just had a moment, you and I. Let's just enjoy it in silence for a moment, yes?"

Ean complied. Instead of talking, he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, which was getting more difficult by the minute. Back in the tent, she helped him ease onto the cot before taking a step towards the exit.

"Azalea, wait."

"Yes?"

"I trust you, Azalea. I just wanted you to know that."

She stood there, facing him, her face barely visible in the low level of light peaking in from the outside. Ean strained to catch her expression, but the combination of moonlight and the alcohol made it impossible. When the Yulari finally responded, her voice was low and serious.

"You probably shouldn't...but thank you."

Without another word she was gone, the tent flaps closing behind her, leaving him in darkness.

IN THE DARKNESS BEFORE
dawn, the caravan workers loaded the wagons. By first light, the wagons set off to the north with Ean bobbing along in the back of one with an apple in his hand. An unseasonably cold wind began to howl out over the lake and follow them as they moved past it. It was as if the air itself was trying to warn the caravan about their destination.

When the sun reached its peak, the wagons began to slow down. The animals began to act restless, crying out and digging in their hooves, refusing to move for no apparent reason. Even their owners seemed on edge. Men yelled out orders in crackling voices. The usual chatter that accompanied the squeaking of the wheels had died off. Peeking out the back and around the wagons in front of him at what was ahead, Ean immediately began to get a feeling of dread.

The lead wagon was the first to disappear into a wall of dense fog that stretched from east to west as far as the Ean's eye could see, as if they had come to a point in the world where the gods had run out of material and light. The sight of it sent a chill up Ean's spine, which grew to a frost the closer they got to that wall. As they drew closer, something else mixed in with the dread. Something was reaching for him. Pulling at him. Something familiar...

"Cover up, brother."

Ean jumped as he felt Azalea's hand tugging at his right glove while her other hand pulled his sleeve down. He hadn't felt her coming or heard her climb up into the wagon. She took a seat next to him in the back, her hands still resting on his arm.

"Azalea, you almost gave me a heart attack. Do you not see what we're riding into? Now is not the time for surprises."

"For one, yes, I did see what we're riding into, which is why I came back here to be with you. I told you I was going to stick with you from this point on. And it's a good thing I did. You clearly didn't even notice your arm."

"My arm? What do you mean..." Looking down he saw a small amount of his arm between his glove and sleeve still exposed. The tattoos were glowing as brightly as if he was full of as much energy from the Abyss as he could hold. For a moment Ean thought he had taken in the power, maybe out of reflex at being nervous. But not a single drop of the power flowed through his body. He wanted it, though. Almost like he needed it.

Snatching his arm from Azalea's grip, he covered his skin by tucking its edges into the glove. The move blocked off the light, but it didn't get rid of the dread or the hunger. Part of him desired to fill his body with the energy of the Abyss. Become intoxicated with its power. His rational side, however, feared that desire. Feared what he could become if he so easily gave in to his hunger.

"Oh, calm down," Azalea said, apparently seeing the angst in his expression. "I thought you would have expected something like this. After all, from what I've heard, this whole Plague or whatever it's called, originated from the Abysmal energy released when Zin's previous master died. It's only natural that it should still exist in one form or another."

"Except this feels wrong...or at least off." He took a quick glance towards the front of the caravan. The wall of fog was only three wagons ahead of his now. "I was worried about the Plague making me a Living Dead. But what if the fog interacts with my body differently because of my tattoos?"

A variety of scenarios took form in his head. Two taking prominence:

-An unstoppable amount of energy rushing into him until his body couldn't hold anymore and he exploded;

-The Plague working on his body at an accelerated rate, rotting off his skin and corrupting his mind, turning him into a horrible monster...

Every thought made him want to leave before he reached that fog. What was he trying to find anyway? Power? Knowledge? Healing is my trade, Ean reminded himself. If he had any sense left, he'd jump out of the wagon and run back to Rottwealth. Why should he let curiosity potentially end his life, or worse, change him into something resembling Zin's old master?

Curiosity was the force behind him stealing the book in the first place. It was what drove him to experiment with the runes he had found between the pages and summon Zin, then later Azalea. After all this time, as he trekked toward the Deadlands, he wondered if this insatiable curiosity would finally
lead him to his doom.

Zin and Azalea.

Ean trusted them more than most of the humans he had ever met. An imp and a Yulari. Both still hid things from him, he was almost positive of that, but they had shown more loyalty than most humans in his life. Was it that he gave them their freedom from the Abyss that elicited their loyalty, or was he growing on them just as much as they had grown on him? He hoped it was the latter, at least for Azalea. Zin, he trusted with his life. As much as he had liked to blame the imp anytime they both got in trouble, more often than not it was Ean that had gotten them in trouble in the first place. Well, Zin had said that he should be alright, so--

A blow that felt like a hammer the size of a wagon nearly knocked him out of the back of the wagon. Azalea grabbed him as he began to roll over the back, saving him from a painful tumble to the ground.

Her face had gone pale and she was shaking slightly as she wrapped her arms around her body. Ean tried to ask her what happened, but another invisible hammer seemed to strike his very being. Then the blows began to fall like rain. He tried to move to Azalea's side, tried to call out, but all he seemed to control was his vision. Everything was taking on a purplish hue, as if someone had placed a thin curtain over his eyes...

Not a curtain. It was the fog.

They had passed into the Deadlands.

"THIS IS HORRIBLE," AZALEA
whimpered, holding herself tighter. "I didn't think I would be able to feel the Plague. It's like someone filled my mouth and stomach with bile."

Ean wished that was all he was feeling at the moment. What had started out as hammer blows, now felt like drills boring into his bones...as if the Plague was trying to eat its way to his very core. Was this what everyone felt or was it only unique to him?

"Azalea... I..." The pain made it practically impossible to string words together. "Too much...can't..."

A vicious blow doubled him over. He fought the darkness with every ounce of willpower he could muster. If he passed out, there was no telling what might happen. The Plague might overwhelm him. But it was becoming a more and more difficult battle as the Plague seemed to suck the energy right out of him while at the same time trying to drill into his body. He needed more strength to hold the plague off.

Strength.

Without another thought, he opened himself to his connection with the Abyss.

The energy flooded into him, filling him to the brink in an instant. His shirt scarcely contained the glow of the tattoos covering his right hand and arm, a strong outline blazed through the bland brown of his clothes. The power felt good, like soaking in a hot bath on a cold night. It had been a while since he had opened up to the Abyss, and he had almost forgotten what a rush it was to have all of that energy inside of him.

Just as quickly as the energy filled him, the pain was gone. The pressure was still there, trying to squeeze in on him like a hoard of ants, but he no longer felt like it was trying to pierce his entire body. He lifted his head and the resistance made him feel like he was underwater. It was uncomfortable and strange, but it was much more preferable.

Looking over at Azalea, she seemed to be adjusting too, although not as well. The illusion she adopted still looked healthy, but the way she was holding her body made it seem like she was about to be sick up in the wagon. Her body still shook, her arms trembling as she pulled her knees against her body. Her eyes were locked on Ean, though. Was that concern painted across her face?

"You seem to be doing better," she said, her expression quickly changing to that of annoyance. Had Ean imagined the concern? "I feel like I've digested a month's worth of mud."

"For a moment there, I felt like I was going to die."

"You looked like it, too. Why the sudden turn-around?"

Shrugging, which again felt weird against the pressure pushing down on him, Ean inched closer to Azalea. "I needed strength not to pass out, so I took in as much energy from the Abyss as I could. That stopped the pain, but I guess I have to hold onto it for as long as we're here to keep the pain out."

It was the Yulari's turn to shrug. "So?"

"I'm just not comfortable with having the power inside me more than necessary. It's...strange"

Letting out a small laugh that seemed somewhat forced, Azalea scooted her way the rest of the distance between them and leaned her head on his shoulder. She smelled nice, like the sweet Javaran flowers that people used to freshen up their homes. Ean wondered if that was natural or just another part of her illusion.

"You should embrace your power, Ean." Although Azalea seemed to relax against him, her voice was still strained. "Enjoy the power you can control."

"Let's talk about something else. Something pleasant or funny."

"Alright. You're a funny boy, Ean," she said, adjusting her head slightly on his shoulder. "Even without my charms, most men would be very interested in the illusion of the girl I appear to be. Not you, though. I can only taste the barest hint of lust coming off of you."

"What? I don't feel that way..."

Giggling, which was something he had never heard her do before, she entwined one of her arms in his. "I said it was just a tiny amount, you prude. Relax."

"Oh, well, ok then. I'm probably not attracted to you, because I know what you really are."

"Oh."

Ean was the farthest thing from an expert in women, but even he couldn't miss the hurt in that one word. "I mean, I know we are just partners, I guess. Companions. I wasn't implying what you really are isn't attractive."

His stuttering words were met with another laugh and she pulled herself closer. "Just shut up, you silly boy. I feel too sick to talk anyway. Let me take a nap. Hopefully I can sleep the rest of the trip to this village. Maybe by then my body will have adjusted to whatever it is that infects this part of the world.

"Alright."

With Azalea cozying up against him, Ean turned his attention to what lay outside of the wagon. The fog still hung thick in the air, hiding the rest of the world from his view. But as the wagons rumbled on, the fog lessened, allowing him to see a small distance into the haze. What lay outside the wagon could have been a completely different world.

The ground itself was mostly dirt, black dirt like what was left after a fire had ravaged the ground. Random patches of grass grew, but it was thicker than normal grass and was a dark blue instead of green. Off to either side of the wagon he would occasionally glimpse at what looked like tree branches sticking through the fog, although he never caught site of the actual tree trunk. The branches seemed weird, bare of any leaves natutal for this time of year, and the bark was a dark purplish color. It was eerily quiet as well, the sounds of the wagons the only thing he could hear. There was no wind, no chirping of birds. It was as if the wagons were the only things moving in the world.

Nothing new came into view as the wagons trudged along, even after the fog had thinned even more. Ean spent the rest of the morning thinking about what other oddities this land could hold. The pressure of the Plague continued to press down on him, but at the most it was a minor annoyance. Azalea also accomplished her goal, staying asleep on his shoulder and only occasionally shifting around against him. He envied her. Sleep would have been a welcome relief, but he didn't even close his eyes as they rolled along. The power rushing through him might be protecting him from the Plague, but he didn't trust it. Didn't trust his unconscious self with it either.

After what seemed like an eternity, the wagons began to slow. Azalea stirred and opened her eyes but kept her head on his shoulder.

"Are we there?"

"I think so," Ean said, smiling at the small splotch of drool that dampened his shirt. "We're slowing down at least."

"Good, I want to get up and move around. Hopefully that will help my stomach settle."

Pulling her arm out from around his, Azalea climbed to her feet...and almost fell over again when the wagon came to a sudden stop. Glancing out the back, Ean saw that they had come to rest on a barren patch of earth. Even more interesting was now that the fog was thinned, he could see a dirt road he hadn't noticed before. He had almost forgotten they were supposedly going to a civilized area with how badly the Plague had affected him. Seeing something as common as a road made the Deadlands less intimidating to him.

"Well, come on already," Azalea said, pushing him out of the way so she could start to climb out. "I told you I would stick by you but that doesn't mean I'm going to sit around in this wagon when there is so much fear and dread floating around just outside."

Azalea got out first and offered Ean a hand. He accepted it, and when he tried to step over the side, he stumbled out into her arms.

"Sorry. The pressure is messing with my balance."

She rolled her eyes and pushed him away with a grunt. Using the wagon for balance, he moved around from the back of the wagon and got his first look at the village of Ulundkin.

Past the patch of land where the wagons were all now sitting was a village of a few dozen houses, most two stories and made of a blackish stone. They were spaced out at random, with large spots of beaten down grass all around them. A road paved with the same stone as the houses ran right down the middle, although very few buildings actually sat on the road. To the west of town, the mountains ran north and south, the climbing peaks the only thing that seemed untouched by the Plague.

Directly attached to the wagon area was a large building that stood out amongst the rest, three times as large as any of the other buildings and made of the same material. A single set of large wooden doors sat in the middle of the wall facing the wagons with a lone man standing in front of it. In sharp contrast to the black stones of the building, the man dressed all in red guarded the double doors.

All of the members of the caravan were making their way towards an opening in the middle of the wagons. Meganan was standing on a small box looking around impatiently while some of the wagon leaders waved everyone closer. By the time Ean and Azalea reached the clearing, nearly everyone was gathered around Meganan.

"Welcome to Ulundkin," the older man shouted, and immediately the crowd grew silent. "Those of you who have made this trip before already know what I'm about to say, but this doesn't make my words any less important. For those that have made the trip for the first time, heed my words."

"The Ciantar family has been trading with the people of Ulundkin for over a decade, both by the blessing of our patron deity, Drenks, and by our relationship with the good citizens that live here. To keep up our excellent relationship, there are a few rules set forth by the Mayor that must be followed. Understand that I take these rules extremely seriously, and breaking any of them will lead to a forfeit of wages from any of my employees. For those not under my employ, you will be punished based on the rules of the village, which can include time spent in their jail. Such a punishment combined with the Plague would probably lead to you becoming a permanent citizen in the Deadlands."

The tall man grew quiet for a few moments as he let that thought set in. The crowd remained silent. Looking around and seeming content with what he saw, Meganan continued.

"The rules are as follows, and I list them in terms of importance and strictness in punishment:

"One: no one is to go near the path leading into the mountains and the mine. Trespassing there is punishable by death, regardless of whether you are an employee or not."

Again he allowed his words to settle into the crowd before continuing.

"Two: those with free time are permitted on the main road and may stop in the general store or The Shade Inn if they are open. It should go without saying, though, that you should refrain from buying anything here, especially food or drink."

"Three: most citizens of this town feel uncomfortable with their appearance when compared to our own. If you do come in contact with anyone here, it is considered impolite to focus on their 'differences.' Please refrain from staring, pointing, and especially making any comments. Remember, we are their guests."

"With that being said, Loaders and Handlers, you are to get right to work transferring the goods into the warehouse." He gestured to the large buildings behind him. "Everyone else is free to their own devices. Again, remember the rules."

Giving one last look over the entire crowd, Meganan stepped down from the box and started making his way towards the warehouse. The rest of the crowd quickly dispersed as well, many of them with jobs to do. Ean glanced around until he saw the familiar wide frame of Iacane and the mostly bald head of Sadiek. Motioning Azalea with his head, they both made their way over to the two men.