The Creators Ch 05

Chapter Five: Arbortus

LUCILLA

The alarm bells tolled from every tower in the palace, the yells of men and the clanking of armor sounded from every corridor and stairwell. I kept my cloak wrapped tightly around me, trying to conceal the glowing patterns that laced my skin from toe to chin. I had a fortune in gold and jewelry tucked away in my sack, but that would hardly do me any good if the royal guard stopped us. I grabbed Julia by the wrist and pulled her from the corridor as a squad of heavily-armored knights turned the corner. We kept our backs pressed to the walls of the alcove while the men clanked past us, rushing toward the room that had exploded from the top of the tower.

"They're not even looking for us!" Julia hissed. "They don't know what happened, but they will soon, and we better be out of the palace before then!"

"If the royal guard sees me, they'll detain me for my own safety," I said breathing heavily, "and if Father sees what I've become... let's not think about that."

I poked my head from the alcove, looking left and then right.

"Julia!" I whispered.

"What?" Julia hissed.

"This is really fun," I grinned at her, "we're playing hide-and-seek."

"Except if you get caught, you're not 'it,'" Julia hissed, "you're dead!"

"That just makes it better!" I giggled, pulling Julia out of the alcove and dragging her down the hallway. I'd always engaged in thrill-seeking behavior, but this was worrisome. Julia would have to play therapist for me once we were in a safe place so that we could determine the root-cause of my...

you're still thinking of her as your priestess,

I scolded myself as we rounded a corner.

She's a fucking god, not your servant!

My excited grin stayed glued to my face as we weaved our way down steps, tiptoed through halls, ducked into rooms, and clambered into closets. There were several times when Julia had to plaster her palm over my mouth to keep my giggles from giving us away, and the wrathful look she gave me only made it worse. If this was my flight-or-fight response, we'd be solidly fucked if we actually got caught.

"What in the Sweet Mother is wrong with you?!" Julia growled as I guided her down the last flight of steps of the upper floors.

"I'm sorry," I giggled as we rounded the stairwell to the courtyard, "it's just so much fucking fu—"

Julia practically tackled me into a closet. Heavy bootsteps thundered past us, followed by the soft patter of slippers on the stones. Two mages walked by, their bald heads gleaming in the torch light, the spot between their brows shining with their melded astral power. They stopped in front of the open doorway, and I silently prayed that the darkness of the closet would keep us hidden in the shadows. I pulled my cloak up around my neck to conceal the glowing patterns on my skin as Julia's palm covered my mouth, anticipating another bout of foolish mirth.

"Did they recover Princess Lucilla's body?" one of the mages asked.

"Chances are it was burnt to ash," the other mage said. "An explosion powerful enough to rip a hole in the tower wall would disintegrate a person."

"And her priestess?" the first mage asked.

"Also, most likely dead," the second mage said. "How did we miss an astral bomb of such yield? How could an assassin have even gotten it in the palace? It would have to be the size of a horse to produce that kind of blast!"

"I don't know," the first mage grimaced, "but you can bet the emperor is going to ream us gaping for this oversight."

"One of the maids said she heard sounds of lust when she was emptying the chamber pots;" the second mage said, "did the guards say if a man came into her suite?"

"No," the first mage said, "only her and the priestess. It shouldn't surprise anyone that Princess Lucilla chose a nun who was loose with her vows."

Julia pressed her palm into an air-tight seal over my mouth as uncontrollable laughter raged against my clenched teeth. I could practically feel the fire thrumming beneath her skin as she seethed silently, and I had to hold her power within me to keep it from bursting alight on her flesh. This was a woman so devout that she denied her very godhood until she could no longer, and this mage had the audacity to question her piety? It was fucking hilarious. The sound of running feet echoed through the hall, prompting the two mages to turn. A third mage shot into view, breathing hard and red-faced.

"Dratus, Backtius," the third mage gasped, holding my hand-mirror aloft, "look at this!"

The other two mages studied it for a moment, perplexed expressions on their faces.

"Do you see the burnt patterns on the frame?" the third mage asked excitedly. "Those were on every surface of the princess's room! The Heat Bringer killed Princess Lucilla!"

"Impossible!" the mage called Dratus said. "All seven-hundred subjects are locked away and accounted for in the keep; none of them could have escaped without setting off dozens of alarms!"

"Telavia was right all along," the mage called Backtius gasped. "We never had the one."

"Princess Lucilla said as much to her father earlier today," the third mage said, his voice edging with excitement. "She must have found something the emperor didn't, and the Heat Bringer killed her before she could spread the information!"

"Her priestess," Backtius muttered, "she was a bright-elf, wasn't she? Not of high blood, but certainly around the right age... raise the alarm and sequester all bright-elves in the palace! Inform the emperor that the Heat Bringer is here, and get him to safety!"

The mages ran off, and Julia tentatively released her grip on my mouth.

"Looks like hide-and-seek is over," she said as we stepped out of the closet. "Now we just run."

We dashed through the courtyard, raced along the inner-wall and darted down the stairs to the bottom levels. The top floors of the palace tower were reserved for royalty, so subterfuge was a necessity when escaping them, but the bottom levels were packed with common folk, and our plain cloaks allowed us to blend right in. Troops of guards ran in opposition to us, ignoring us as they raced up the steps we'd just climbed down. Julia and I burst into the main courtyard, and the gate was blessedly still open. We were a mere hundred paces from freedom when the voice yelled.

"You two, stop!" it was a commanding, baritone growl that sent our heels skidding to a halt. I turned around to see a mage leading a platoon of guards right for us. I wheeled around to make a run for the gates, but another platoon had barred our exit.

"Julia," I hissed as the men encircled us, "burn them!"

"

Kill them?!

Julia gasped. "That's a mortal sin!"

"Holy shit," I growled, "Julia, do you know what will happen if my father captures you?"

"Maybe we can talk our way out of it," Julia whispered as the men surrounded us. As if in response, the men drew their swords, and the mage's forehead began glowing from his astral meld.

"Take off your hoods," the mage said, "put your hands in the air, and get on your knees."

"Julia..." I said through clenched teeth, begging the girl. I felt the power pulsing in my veins, I could faintly see the energy glowing through my cloak; patterns of white shining through the fabric. I felt Julia growing warmer against me, drawing her power from me, preparing to set alight and announce her presence to the world. The fire died, the heat faded, and the light dwindled beneath my cloak.

"I can't," Julia whimpered, her posture slouching in defeat. "I'm sorry, Lucilla."

I inhaled a ragged breath, feeling my heart sinking beneath my lungs. The swords gleamed around us, pointing their sharp edges at our bodies, their bearers watching us behind hard, merciless eyes. Julia put her arms around me, and I put my arms around her, the excitement I felt earlier no longer thrumming within me; only terror.

"Gatison!" an even more commanding voice yelled, causing the mage to turn sharply around. "What in the blue fuck are you doing?"

A man dressed in resplendent officer's armor stepped into view, his masked helm making him look as intimidating as his voice sounded. Another man wearing similar armor strode alongside him, his faceplate also down, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I'm—" the mage started, but never finished.

"You're wasting valuable time and resources!" the officer yelled. "Harassing common folk when you and your men should be on the top floors with everyone else! Do you know what's at stake here?!"

"These two were running for the gate!" the mage yelled indignantly, "They were—"

"Get your bony ass up those stairs Gatison, or so help me, I will be wearing it as a boot!"

The mage did not need further encouragement. He gave Julia and I a suspicious glower, and then ordered his men to follow him up the stairs, where the supposed Heat Bringer was undoubtedly lurking. I didn't notice I'd been holding my breath, and I let out a deflating exhale, feeling the dread wash from my body. Right; that was certainly enough excitement for one day. I took Julia by the hand, and—

"You know," the commanding voice said in my ear as strong hands grabbed hold of my shoulders, "when you're running for your life,

Princess,

stopping when someone says 'stop' is about the dumbest fucking thing you can do."

"Julia!" I screamed before a gauntleted hand clasped over my mouth.

"No one is getting outside of this palace unless someone with rank bullies their way out," the officer growled. "The gates may be open, but there's a wall of guards on the other side. Now, you might outrank me, Your Grace, but you're also supposed to be dead."

I looked out of the corner of my eye, and saw Julia nodding as the other officer whispered something in her ear. He seemed much gentler than my captor; holding Julia's arm softly, resting his other hand comfortingly on her back, guiding her forward with respect. His faceplate was up now, and I recognized the portrait behind it: Torondi, one of my own guards. I turned to my left, and saw Drask's fearsome face staring back at me from his lifted mask.

"You're not a fucking officer!" I hissed. "You're a royal guard! And just what the fuck are you doing anyway?!"

"We're neither, actually," Drask grinned, "but it's amazing what you can get away with if you have the right outfit and act like you belong. And what we're doing, Your Grace, is getting you and the goddess as far from your father as possible."

"Where are you taking us?" I asked as we passed through the gates, and neared a well-guarded checkpoint.

"Does it matter?" Drask asked as we approached the checkpoint, "I know you don't have a reason to trust me, but you're just going to have to. Either that, or burn your way out of here."

The first option seemed like the preferable one, so I kept my mouth shut, my hood up, and my eyes down as Drask bullied, threatened and intimidated our way past each checkpoint, and out of the palace.

JULIA

Drask and Torondi had clearly smuggled people before. Lucilla and I were whisked from the checkpoint, and briskly shoved into the back of a carriage. Lucilla couldn't hide her contempt as she regarded the simplistic nature of the carriage, though I suspected she would have appreciated it more if she'd known what our next mode of transportation would be. Roadblocks had been set up on all streets, and every carriage was being searched down to the rivets. Torondi quickly ushered us out of the back of the carriage, and into a fish cart. Lucilla opened her mouth to spew a paragraph of royal indignation, but I pushed her into the smelly pile before she could, and then dove in after. Lucilla squawked her disgust as Torondi rolled us away from the roadblocks leading out of the city, and along the pier. We were given half a breath's warning before he tipped us over the edge, sending us plunging into the murky depths of the Terondia Bay. Drask hauled us into the canoe, sputtering and cursing, our clothes soaked to the bone, our hair covered in scales and slime, before Torondi jumped in, and paddled us down the river. After Lucilla had given everyone a resounding piece of her mind, we sat in silence, the only sound being the soothing drip and splash of wooden paddle meeting still water. About an hour later, Drask pulled us onto the bank of the river, and then ran into the woods to scout. Torondi handed us dry clothes from his sack, and then turned his back as we bathed in the river, dried ourselves off, and clothed ourselves in overlarge tunics. Torondi set out some logs for us to sit on, and then built a fire ring, set the kindling and sticks, and looked at me expectantly. I'd never actually used my powers for... anything, so when I raised my hand to ignite the wood, I might've overcompensated. Torondi's hair was blown back and singed, his face was blackened with soot, and tendrils of flame licked at his coat, but he didn't mind in the least. He whooped and applauded fervently, and I bowed, my cheeks blushing furiously, and sat next to Lucilla.

"You," Torondi said to Lucilla, his voice thickly accented, "you are bind?"

"What?" Lucilla asked.

"You are bind," Torondi said, gesturing to the intricate patterns of swooshing flame that thrummed alight over Lucilla's entire body.

"Yes, Torondi," Lucilla smirked, adding a fake accent to her words, "I am bind. Now I get why you didn't speak to me yesterday; you don't speak common tongue, do you? Where in the world is an elf born not speaking the common tongue?"

"The Gratoran Desert," Drask said as he stepped from the forest, holding a pair of rabbits in his hand, "our mother is whiter than you, but our dad is a big green bastard."

"Big," Torondi grinned, flexing his muscles, "bastard," he said, making a stabbing motion with his hand.

"What my articulate younger brother is trying to say," Drask said, pulling out his knife and deftly skinning the rabbit, "is that our father is an orc warlord. Those orcs your father used came from our clan, and we came with them."

"Find god," Torondi said, gesturing appraisingly to me, an endearing smile on his face, "bring home."

"That's our mission," Drask said to me, spitting the rabbits and putting them over the fire, "but it's up to you if you want to come back with us."

"I think we'll pass," Lucilla said for me, chuckling contemptuously, "thanks though."

"I don't remember asking you a damn thing, Princess," Drask said sharply, causing Lucilla to start upright. She was not used to being talked to like that, especially from a dark-elf. Knowing Lucilla, that probably meant this night was going to get ugly.

"Why would I go to the orc empire?" I asked, "What is there for me?"

"Safety, for one," Drask said, turning the spits over. "It's as far from Terondia as you can get, and the elves wouldn't think to look for you west of the Gratoran Wall. Secondly, most orcs are Creationists, seeing as how four of the last six Creators were orcs, so they know how to treat divinity. Thirdly, you'd get to do some good, and I know how much nuns love doing good."

Actually, what I wanted to do was find a remote monastery atop some mountain, and spend the rest of my days in humble service to the Holy Mother, but I knew that dream was dead. Lucilla's father would identify me, the church would excommunicate me, and my title as 'Sister' would be stripped from me. I wouldn't be allowed within ten miles of a holy site for the rest of my life, but I could still serve God in other ways. Perhaps I could turn my curse into a blessing, and do the work of The Holy Mother outside of her church. I could perform my blasphemous miracles, give their credit to the true God, and spread the message of the Holy Mother to heretics all across the land. I could bring a nation of heathen orcs into the light of truth. Yes, that would be my purpose.

"What kind of good?" I asked, smiling apologetically at Lucilla's annoyed frown.

"Do you know about the underground city of Droktinar?" Drask asked, testing the meat of the rabbit with his knife.

"Yes," I replied, "it was a city carved entirely from the bedrock, a thousand feet deep at some points. It was the joint project of Droktin and Arbitrus Gen, before they became enemies."

"That's right," Drask said, quartering the rabbit, "the whole thing was supposed to be powered by a massive furnace, but Arbitrus never lit it, so a city fit to house a million people has been lying abandoned beneath the desert, just waiting for a Heat Bringer to come along and start it up."

"Why?" Lucilla asked. "Who gives a shit about an abandoned city underground? It was a stupid idea anyway."

"It gets hot enough to fry eggs on stone during the day, and cold enough to freeze water during the night," Drask replied, giving Lucilla an annoyed look. "The Gratoran Desert is a hostile place, but beneath the surface, it's temperate and comfortable. The orc empire is a fractured mess of warring tribes fighting over shitholes in the sand. If the furnace of Droktinar is ignited, then my people won't need to kill each other over a meagre oasis. You'll have revitalized an empire overnight, and we'd be eternally grateful."

"

Your people?

" Lucilla scoffed. "Drask, you're an elf, just like the rest of us. You can't possibly believe reestablishing the orc empire is good for anyone."

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Drask said, "and I've lived my whole life in the Gratoran Desert, so don't assume my heritage."

"When Droktin opened his pass," Lucilla said, pointing accusingly at Drask, "it took the might of the dwarven, human and elven nations to repel the flood that charged through it. There's a reason 'your' nation is a scattering of tribes now. They had their chance at being a real empire, and they blew it."

"Victors always write history, don't they?" Drask laughed humorlessly. "I guess they chose to ignore the part where Arbitrus Gen melted Hektinar, killing a million innocent people and destroying the heart of the empire! An atrocity none of your nations even acknowledge!"

"That never happened," Lucilla laughed. "That's a conspiracy theory propagated by downtrodden orcs to justify banditry, and the fact that their too lazy to get a job."

"Oh, it never happened?!" Drask seethed. "My people are lazy, are they? Well, you certainly enjoyed the kind of

laziness

my people could provide you, didn't you

Princess?!

"

"Orcs make for an exciting lay," Lucilla sneered. "They're basically animals anyway, so it shouldn't be a surprise they fuck like them. Why you shit-blooded half breeds insist on associating with them is beyond me."

"

Lucilla!

" I gasped, but it was already out. Lucilla was taking the low road, and she was going to ride its racism right into the dirt.

"There it is!" Drask grinned, holding his hands aloft. "I was waiting for the high-blooded bitch to come shining through, and she did, like fucking clockwork. If you weren't bound to a god, I would take your pale-skin ass behind a tree and—"

"And what?" Lucilla grinned. "Do what

you people

do?"

Lucilla and Drask went back and forth, hurling increasingly racist insults at each other as they both abandoned any pretense of political debate, and went right to a pissing contest. I sighed, reached into the fire, grabbed a kabab, and gave half of it to Torondi. I nibbled daintily as he ate sloppily, and we sat together and watched the argument get louder and louder.

"Why fighting?" Torondi asked in broken common tongue.

"I don't know about Drask," I whispered back, "but Lucilla doesn't really care about Droktinar; she's just mad that she won't be sleeping in fine silk tonight. She's used to a certain lifestyle, and doesn't do well when it's taken from her, so she's making everyone else miserable. That's... just what she does."