I awoke to a weeping land.
Journal entry: Slari Rul, Head Mage of the Ogre Litho.
“Morning, Aunt Slari. Hungry?” Slari’s nephew, Keflor, deposited a small tray of nut butter, sliced fruit, and several flat travel breads on the ground next to her.
“Starved, thank you.” The hair on the back of Slari’s neck tingled and she glanced around the clearing.
“I prepared it myself.”
Slari stopped scanning the trees. Their trip had been uneventful and she had no reason to believe they were being followed.
She tore a chunk off of one of the flat breads and slathered it with the chunky nut butter. The taste of roasted nuts and warm honeyed bread filled her mouth. “Keflor this is delicious.”
Keflor beamed. His brown eyes and handsome face never failed to touch the deep corner of Slari’s heart where she tucked favorite moments.
“Did you sleep well?”
At twelve Keflor was a bundle of ever-moving energy, and had already crossed to the other side of the clearing, where his mother stood folding blankets. Slari had no idea how her sister-in-law, Dimandri, kept him in line.
“Yeah.” Keflor called from the bank of the stream that ran along one side of their camp. Bending, he planted a smacking kiss on his mother’s head. Despite having his father’s height, Keflor resembled his human mother, with his curly chestnut hair, brown eyes and thick musculature. The Ogre Litho all had straight black hair, slender frames and eyes ranging from violet to midnight blue.
“Sweet goddess, Keflor, have you grown again?” At five eight he stood almost four and half inches above his mother. “Dimandri, you need to stop feeding him.”
Slari’s brother’s wife laughed. “If I thought that would stop him I would. It’s a good thing his armor expands with him, at the rate he grows I’d be buying a new one every week.”
Keflor plucked at the sleeve of his micro metal body arm. The deep blood red suit lifted between his fingers, easily accommodating the movement. Keflor opened his fingers and the sleeve settled back, covering him to his wrist.
Her nephew carried the best of both of his parents, the graceful beauty of the elf like Ogre Litho and the curiosity and persistence of humanity.
Dimandri waved to her. “Join us.”
“I’ll be right over. I want to pack up. Are you ready to go?”
She, Keflor and Dimandri had arrived a few days ahead of schedule and planned on taking a small camping trip before going to the capital for a visit with Keflor’s grandparents. Who were the rulers of the twenty-seven world L’Tane system.
No one but Slari’s best friend Marina, the chief intelligence officer, knew that they’d come early. That way they could enjoy a couple of days of privacy before duty descended on them.
Slari checked the guardian spell she’s erected the previous night. Though she didn’t anticipate any problems while visiting Dimandri’s home world, being careful had never brought her to harm.
For almost a year their dark brethren the Ogre Nori had kept to their end of the treaty agreement, but for the past few days Slari had felt watched.
It could be the small group of fuzzy coru following them. The little mammals had taken a liking to her brother wife. Regardless of the relative peace that had settled over the Coalition since the treaty had been signed, Slari couldn’t help but feel that the Nori were silent because it was good for their agenda. The warlords had quickly agreed to the terms of the peace accord, much too quickly.
The past year of not having to constantly battle had given Slari’s people time to rebuilt after Zheng’s betrayal had cost them so many lives and nearly obliterated much of the buildings on Haven.
At first she’s dismissed the feeling of being watched but by the second day Slari had decided peace or not someone was following them.
The ship that had taken them from Haven to L’Tane was a large trading vessel and had stopped only long enough to set them down in the wilderness preserve. Slari contacted Marina and asked her to send a transport to pick them up this morning. It was due in an hour.
“All packed and ready to go.” Dimandri’s cheeks crinkled in her perpetual grin. The lopsided smile matched her hair, which was as always cheerfully tousled. The chestnut waves fell into her eyes obscuring her light brown gaze.
Short and voluptuous and without a scrap of magical ability, Dimandri was Slari’s tall, slender, magical brother Oriel’s, opposite in every way. However their love for each other bound them together as one.
Had it truly been a year since the attack on Haven that had claimed Oriel's life? Slari’s heart clenched in pain. How did Dimandri cope?
She blinked and sniffed, moved the dried fruit and cheese around on the tray, and swallowed at the tightness in her throat.
Her symbiote, Bree, an ice drago, slid out of her collar as a cloud of frost, and danced about her head. The icy breeze sent her black hair flying about her face.
“I love you too, Bree.” They'd been together for a little over twelve years. He arrived the same afternoon she experienced her magic's first awakening, and bound them in the ancient link between mage and familiar.
The cloud solidified into an iridescent, white drago. Bree resembled a miniature version of ancient Earth’s fabled dragons. In truth they were the cause for the legends, but like most human tales the two-foot drago had morphed into a huge slavering beast.
Humans. Slari shook her head. Always altering history to make themselves look better.
Bree flapped his long, silver wings and managed a double somersault above Slari's head. Slari chuckled at the drago’s antics. “Go hunt and take Sponk with you.”
The symbiote hissed and ice crystals fell from his mouth.
Keflor’s red fire drago joined Bree as a sparkling garnet mist. Sponk swiftly assumed his corporeal form. The two headed into the tree line.
Slari opened a small hole in the guardian spell she erected last night.
“Aunt Slari, watch this.” Keflor cupped an amber sphere in his palm. A tiny orange flame danced inside.
“Excellent. Your control’s improved.”
Slari’s nephew beamed, his warm brown gaze reflected his pleasure.
“Now douse the flame without removing the protective ball surrounding it.”
“Sure.” Keflor performed the difficult maneuver with ease. At twelve cycles Keflor surpassed most adults. One day he would be more powerful than she.
Keflor danced on the balls of his feet, ready for the next challenge. “What next, Aunt Slari?”
Her brother was the first known Litho to life-bond with a human. Oriel and Dimandri had produced a son as determined and unique as their love.
“I want you to go to the stream and dunk your flame and sphere in the water. Bring them back to me intact in five minutes.”
Bree and Sponk settled on a wide branch of a nearby birch tree. Each had caught a black and gray quie bird.
Keflor waded into the center of the shallow stream and sat cross-legged, his hands cupping the ball in his lap.
She could feel a grin spread over face over her nephew’s antics.
All Ogres, whether the Elvin like Litho or monstrous Nori, descended from the same original beings. Only one thing separated the Litho and Nori people. The Litho conquered their magic. The Nori let it rule them.
All the descendants of earth possessed the ability to manipulate the magic surrounding them, but only ogres were born with a piece of magic buried in their hearts.
Their inner core of magic made their physical bodies resemble the deeds they performed with it.
Exactly five minutes later, Keflor bounded back from the stream. His armor’s maintenance mode quickly absorbed and stored the water in chambers spread through out suite.
“That one was easy. Watch this.” He built a smaller fire within the larger flame, recombined them then split the single flame into six tiny red fires each with a heart of dancing blue.
The flames collapsed once again. “Zril, Zril, Zril.”
Hands on hips, Dimandri looked up at the sky then at Keflor. “We’ve spoken about your language.”
He made a face and grabbed a handful of fried nuts from the sack Dimandri held out.
“But Mom, it’s not like the humans will understand.” He slouched against the junction of two twisted birch trunks, crunching and kicking the toe of his boot into the dirt.
Sponk snatched a nut before losing his corporeal form and dissolving through Keflor’s armor.
“I don’t care if the curses are in ogre, they’re still foul.” Dimandri shook her finger at her son. “Besides I’m human and I understand you.”
Slari rubbed the back of her neck and allowed the argument between Keflor and his mother to faded into the background. Their disagreement was a common one. Keflor disliked his mixed heritage. Of all the races born of the earth's womb, only humans treated Keflor like an outcast, and how he chafed under their bigotry.
“Slari, look out!” Dimandri screamed.
Springing to her feet, weapons in hand, her gaze sought the danger. About seventeen feet from her, at the edge of the campsite, near the stream, two Nori hunters materialized behind Dimandri and Keflor.
Zril, Slari knew the peace between the Nori and the Coalition was a lie.
The Nori’s fat, wide bodies moved with a grace and speed belied by their grotesque appearance.
One advanced to flank Dimandri. His thick, greasy hair swung in matted clumps about his narrow head.
“You surrender,” he spat. The single horn that protruded from his forehead looked like some bizarre clothes hook. Strips of brackish colored flesh swung back and forth every time he took a step.
The other dark hunter followed his companion. His fleshy skull was completely devoid of hair. The gleaming dome highlighted the twin horns that spiraled up from behind his ears.
“Don’t worry, little females, we not kill you.” The Nori’s short fangs dripped saliva and his violet gaze roamed Slari’s body.
Her gut clenched. Slari knew very well what the Nori did to healthy females, bred them like cattle.
The bald Nori motioned her forward. In his immense fist he gripped a thick six-foot broadsword that would have taken two humans to lift.
Though she’d know the Nori had lied about wanting peace. She’d thought they would be safe on L’Tane. Its boarders had never been breached. Slari regretted the end of the brief peace and all that its conclusion meant to her.
Dimandri shoved Keflor toward Slari, then launched herself at the Ogre Nori hunters.
Keflor stumbled forward, halted his motion, pivoted, and released his hari from their sheaths. The short-handled modified sickles made him look like a grim reaper in search of a soul.
Pride rippled through Slari. Keflor possessed the skills and strength of a warrior twice his age.
The Ogre Nori countered Dimandri’s attack. Slari cursed.
She was torn between helping her sister-in-law and protecting her nephew. Slari sheathed one hari, and called her frost to her, prepared to fling it at the hunters.
The air shimmered and rippled. Four hunters appeared, cutting Slari and Keflor off from Dimandri.
Where had they come from? How had they modified the cloaking spell so quickly? It always felt like Slari and the other Litho magi were one step behind the Nori.
A ball of frost shot out of her hand and encased one of the hunters, he froze to the bone, she grabbled Keflor by the back of his armor and hauled him to her.
“Here, hunter! Fight one who is your superior,” Slari shouted and backed up, trying to sandwich her nephew between herself and a bulky clump of birch.
Three hunters turned and started toward them, dragging the remains of the cloaking spell with them as they moved. It clung to them like a noxious cloud of gas. Slari gagged on their combined stench.
Keflor wiggled behind her.
“Stop moving,” Slari snapped and spanked his thigh with the flat of her blade.
“Aunt Slari, get out of my way. I’m old enough to fight.”
Slari gathered her magic and wrapped herself and Keflor in a protective shield. Ice pounded into her skull.
“Litho.” The Nori smashed his fist into the shield. Magic clashed, dark against light, sparks showered the clearing. Slari reared back, banging into Keflor.
The hunter’s harsh bark of laughter grated across her brain chasing the ice out and sending shivers down her neck.
“You’re trapped, little morsel.” The dark ogre cupped his sex. “Give us the young one, and we’ll allow you to carry our seed.”
Slari snorted and gathered her magic. “I’ll kill him myself before I allow you to corrupt him.”
She curled in her fingers, pooled her magic in the bowl, then flattened her palm. A stream of frost shot at the hunter. It shattered against his shield.
He laughed. Thick drool wobbled off his chin. “Your spell failed, little mage.” He looked her up and down, his small pale blue eyes dull. “You’re not even worth breeding.”
Slari wove a small opening in her shield, enabling to fit on hari through. She leaned forward. “Turn back from your dark path and rejoin us.”
The Nori licked his lips. “I’m going to roast you slowly from the feet up before I eat the meat from your bones.” The taunt ended in a grunt.
His eyes widened in shock, and he slumped forward. Slari pulled out her hari. Her spell to disable his shield worked just fine.
Slari reinforced the shield surrounding her and Keflor, and half turned to glance at him. “Stay inside the shield. I’m going to help your mother.”
“No.” His lip plumped in a stubborn pout.
“Not now, Keflor.”
“Aunt Slari--” Keflor’s mouth opened, and a look of horror replaced the temperamental child’s pout.
He darted past her.
Slari felt a rush of energy. Keflor had drawn his power. His entire body glowed amber.
Keflor leapt at the Nori huntress nearest him, slicing through the shield. Slari’s spell disintegrated in a sparkling shower of honey-toned magic.
Sweet goddess, he was going to fight. “Keflor, no!” Slari stumbled forward trying to grab him. Her fingers closed on nothing.
Two of the three hunters who’d just uncloaked blocked her path. Keflor was fighting the third.
“Get out of my way.” Slari automatically blocked the sword zipping toward her. Short, ivory tusks jutting up from a mottled lower jaw snapped viciously just inches from her face. The ogre struck again. Slari ducked, flicked her wrist, and gutted the hunter in a smooth counter move.
The Nori fell, and Slari’s gaze darted back to her nephew.
The huntress slashed at Keflor. Slari’s heart stuttered in her chest. Keflor’s symbiote Sponk slid up and out of his body armor. The young fire drago’s crimson-scaled snout and fanged mouth were the first things to form from the red mist.
Sponk roared and gelatinous fire shot out. A wet splook, then a whoosh filled the air. The thick glop hit the ogress, and she went up in flames. Keflor stepped around the burning Nori and ran toward his mother.
Slari hacked and slashed her way closer to Dimandri and Keflor. Seven feet never seemed so far.
“Keflor, raise a shield.” Nerves made stomach acid churn in Slari’s gut. Please let him be able to maintain it long enough for me to reach him.
Keflor glowed, and a glittering amber dome rose between him, Dimandri, and the Nori hunters.
Slari released a breath she hadn’t known she held.
Thick, oily smoke billowed from the burning ogress and filled the clearing. It stung her eyes and cut visibility.
She flicked her fingers. Silvery-cerulean flecks flew into the air. The tiny bits of power grew. The cerulean stained a deep navy while it sucked up the dark smoke. Small popping noises filled the air when her magic winked out, taking the smoke with it.
“Sponk, return to Keflor.” Slari snapped.
A wash of dark magic rolled over Slari. The amber dome fluttered and fell. Keflor tried to reform it, but he was too young to maintain the level of energy needed.
Dimandri’s frustrated howl echoed across the clearing. She had no magic.
A hunter batted Dimandri away and wrapped a thick hand around Keflor’s neck.
Fury engulfed Slari. Her mind went blank. The magic took over, wild and raging.
Slari leapt, arms extended, hari raised. The pointed tips sank into the hunter’s thick, lumpy back. Her weight dragged her and the razor sharp blades down, tearing open the dark ogre’s back.
The Nori fell, landing in a frozen, twisted heap.
The light brush of his soul fleeing his body snapped Slari’s mind out of her rage. Struggling, she chained her magic.
Dimandri’s cry of pain rent the air.
Slari’s sister-in-law crumpled, her hands clenched around the thick hilt protruding from her chest.
Keflor dove, plunging his knife into the hunter’s chest. The last Nori joined his companions upon the hard ground.
Blood and gore coated everything. Sweet goddess, she was no healer. Slari landed hard on the ground next to Dimandri, her knees protesting the impact. She cursed herself, and her pride. She should have listened and taken the healer and warriors who offered to accompany her, but the treaty had held for over a year and she’d felt comfortable traveling within Coalition space.
Dimandri’s wheezing filled the suddenly quite clearing. The ogre’s weapon had torn a six-inch hole in Dimandri’s chest, piercing the micro metal armor and the protection spell infused into it.
Slari drew her magic and tried to heal Dimandri. Sweat dripped into Slari’s eyes, she ignored the tiny stings and sucked energy from the surrounding wood. Leaves withered and fell, and still the wound bled.
“Slari.” Dimandri’s voice was a faint gurgle.
Bree nipped her arm and pointed his snout toward Dimandri’s face.
“Slari.”
“Shhh, don’t talk.” Slari brushed a curl off Dimandri’s brow.
Dimandri slowly shook her head. “Slari, I’m dying. Don’t waist your energy.”
Gasping, she gripped Slari’s wrist. Her skin was cool, as though the life had already left her.
Fear clawed its way up Slari’s body. “Don’t worry about my energy levels. I’ve got more than enough.”
“No, forget me, I’m already dead. You need to get Keflor to the capital and contact the Coalition.” Dimandri’s eyelids slid closed and her breathing faltered.
Cerulean magic encased Dimandri’s small form. Her skin soaked up the healing energy like a sponge. Her eyes opened.
“Enough, Slari, listen to me. The Nori are never going to stop, they’ll never keep to the terms of any treaty. You are the only one left who can save our people.” Dimandri squeezed Slari’s hand. Her grip grew slack and Slari frantically tried to heal her.
Bree hissed and bumped into Slari’s shoulder. She ignored him and continued to feed healing energy into her sister-in-law long after Dimandri’s life had gushed onto the ground.
Keflor knelt opposite her, his gaze filled with hope. Slari’s hands fisted, gripping Dimandri. “I’m so sorry.”
The boy shook his head in denial.
From his perch on Keflor’s shoulder Sponk tilted back his scaled head and keened. Fire sprayed the sacred trees around them. The intertwined trunks of the birch burst into flames.
Slari caught the fire symbiote before he incinerated the forest. The fiery drago singed her hands.
By the moon goddess, that burned. She clutched the drago tighter. “Hurt me all you want, Sponk, I won’t let you go till you calm down.”
Bree merged with Slari, slipped down over her neck onto her arm he kept sliding until he reached her wrist. A white mist leaked out the pores on the back of her hand and solidified into his head. Bree snorted frost. The burns cooled. He licked them, and they healed.
Bitterness bubbled in Slari's middle. Dimandri, the most vulnerable among them, might have lived had she a symbiote to aid in her healing. Had she magic to protect herself. Gently, she stroked Dimandri’s face, her other hand cradled Sponk against her chest.
Bree nuzzled the young fire drago. Then separated from her fully. Hoarfrost bathed the ogre and the surrounding woods. The smell of burnt flesh overlaid the minty smell of burning birch and surrounded her in a dingy cloud of smoke. Slari curled her fingers, flicking them open and closed. Bouncing sparks of blue collected the smoke and disappeared.
Slari thought about Dimandri’s last words. Feeling the heavy weight of her people’s future settle on her soul, she tried to push them aside and focus on cooing and soothing the young symbiote. Slowly Sponk calmed. Slari wished she could fix the Nori Litho feud as easily.
The little fire symbiote turned into a red mist and slipped into the small seam between Keflor’s boots and body armor. The symbiote fused his soul to Keflor’s. Together they wept.
The stench of death and evil permeated the air and wrapped Slari in a cloak of grief and loss.
© 2007 Tracy J. Farrell