Upon a Star: Karyana's Journey: Chapter 25

A new ally appears, while the enemy begins their attack on the Chosen.

Chapter 25

Alban only had time to lift his blade as the snow panther pounced him, the heavy blade being the only thing that kept the beast from lashing out and biting his face off.

The ranger didn’t have to think twice of what was happening, especially since Onyx wasn’t doing much better at dodging the assault from the other panthers. In fact, had Turalyon not taken the time to cast a spell, the battle would have been lost moments ago.

It was strange that the beasts were so aggressive, especially in these parts, where the snow panthers usually attacked the dark elf scouts that walked too hastily into their territory, and the occasional large game that meant a meal that would last these tundra predators for days. This time, it felt like they had been pushed back to the point where anything with a pulse was a reason enough to hunt.

The dwarf spun his axe in a flurry of swings, pushing back one beast, only to leave his flank open for another to attack. The battle-mage was having a considerably better time when it came to dodging strikes, as the spell made his body as incorporeal as that of a shade. Still, the constant attacks were not helping his concentration, making a counter-attack that much more difficult.

“How many are left?” Turalyon asked the others.

“You really think I have time to count?” Onyx retorted angrily before burying his axe in one snow panther’s skull. “Can’t you just cast that blasted spell before they tear our hides apart like pulled pork?”

“Don’t say that.” Alban commented, pushing his attacker back. “You’ll just make them hungry.”

“They’re already hungry enough!” the dwarf retorted before another panther reared up for a clawed pounce to make a snack of the armored Onyx.

Before the beast could crash against its prey, the whistling sound of an arrow was heard, and the result was instantaneous: a blazing shaft erupted out of nowhere with enough force to push the pouncing panther away.

Alban examined the burning arrow that was wedged in the dying beast’s body, but didn’t have time to wonder where it came from as he burrowed his sword in the third panther he felled during this battle.

Turalyon finally got his concentration set as the spell he hoped for was finally cast. The ground under each of the beasts burst open as icy spikes halted the rest of the pack, piercing several of them through and through.

Another arrow soon flew into the remaining members of the decimated pack, resulting in  a blast of light that blinded the few survivors enough to make them turn head and escape.

As the spikes faded away and the impaled beasts fell on the ground, the battle-mage dropped his Shadeform spell and examined the corpses. “Let’s see… I count five impaled panthers, three cleaved ones, three hacked ones and one arrow wound. Looks like I won!”

“I didn’t know you were making a bet.” came a stranger’s voice.

The three adventurers turned to look at the newcomer. From his elegantly-crafted scabbard and the intricate etching of his armor, it was a sure bet that the man, who stood shorter than Turalyon but taller than Onyx, was not from this place. As the stranger walked closer to the group, they could easily notice the man’s pointy ears and chiseled face, not to mention his thin yet well-trained physique.

“We weren’t.” Onyx replied grumpily. “That blowhard of a mage just likes to turn every occasion into a way to get free ale.”

The newcomer chuckled while Turalyon looked on, slightly embarrassed. “You must be quite the fellowship, then. Allow me to introduce myself. Arius Greenleaf, pleasure to meet you.”

Alban examined the elf head to toe. From the etched signet on the elf’s armor, it looked like he was from the Emerald Sea, specifically from Harvest Grove, far to the south of Myst. “You’re far from the forest. What brings you up here?”

Arius wiped sweat from his brow before looking at the group. “I suppose you have heard of the Shrine of Raemu near Bolestra, yes?”

“Who hasn’t?” Onyx retorted, not liking the elf’s tone.

“Well, it seems that the Shrine itself isn’t just for the Lord of Justice. In fact, my tribe’s far-seer spoke of this new creation as a possible new meeting place for the Planars themselves.” the elf continued. “However, it seems that someone doesn’t want it to happen.”

Turalyon scratched the stubble on his chin. “And who would that be?”

“No idea. All I was told was to journey north and help defend the Shrine. I was on my way there when I noticed you were dealing with…” Arius examined the slain beasts that littered the ground. “…these pests.”

Alban frowned for a moment. “One question, though: where is your bow?”

Arius rolled his eyes. “Why does everyone believe that elves only use bows and swords? I mean, I do use a sword, but I’m a spell-blade, so that would be ridiculous if-”

Turalyon cocked an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

The elf turned to look at the war-mage. “My magic runs through my weapons, hence why I don’t use a blasted bow. Manaweaving is far more accurate than a string attached to a wooden shaft… though I shouldn’t say that in front of my brethren.”

Onyx let out a sigh. “Alright, fine. Let’s suppose you’re not like the rest of your kin. I don’t see why you look like someone comfortable in the Shimmering Sands.”

Arius looked down at his armor. “As I said, manaweaving is far more effective than a simple bearskin. These boots were enchanted to handle any weather, and I must say, it is rather warm for the season.”

Alban had to agree. Normally, even during High-sun, the plains of Frostreach were known for being remarkably cold and unforgiving. Since the past few days of travel, the ice was strangely brittle and the ground marked by sprouts of Thawgrass �" a plant that only appeared in the southern borders of Frostreach.

“How about I travel with you to the Shrine? Unless you have some other business to attend to.” Arius concluded, holding out his hand to shake.

Alban looked at the others. While Turalyon seemed to approve, Onyx was less interested in the spell-blade appearance as he was picking up the dead panthers and stuffing them in his over-sized bag. “I guess the more the merrier.” he finally answered, shaking the man’s hand. “Besides, a few of our comrades are already on their way there, though I wonder if all of them will make it.”

----

Pain slashed through Karyana's body as she struggled again and again before falling back against the cool sweat slick marble beneath her. Light flashed as she screamed again, her throat raw and aching. A dark shadowy shape paced beside her, but her tears were making it impossible for her to distinguish who it was. Lightning outside of the tower flashed and, for a flickering second, she saw the face of her mentor, Rauz. Only… it was not him. His expression, like the disturbingly sinister laughter, was not his own. Karyana screamed again tugging with all the strength the seven year old could muster at the straps that bound her hand and foot.

"Scream all you want..." he spoke. "I want to relish in your despair before your life is ripped asunder!" The man who had stolen her Teacher's body said, lips pulled thin in an ugly smile and staring into her watery blue eyes. He reached a hand out and caressed her cheek. Karyana twisted away as best she could. The man stood back again and the pain returned, scream after scream was ripped from the girls lips.

She was only vaguely aware of the deep rolling voice outside that seemed to bring an end to the crashing waves of torture she experienced. In her mind the voice boomed like thunder. Letting her head tilt towards the window, she gazed outside, only to notice an immense creature �" darker than shadow and more horrifying than death - flickering with the burning light of flames. The grim colossus and the man in the room with her argued. Though her wracked mind could not fathom what was said, she could tell that whoever was inside Rauz’s body was confused, if not nervous. She heard a  huge crash and felt the table shake beneath her as the massive figure outside ripped down the tower. The man beside her screamed in protest. The white light of pain shot through her chest once more but this time a second as equally painful blasted into her skull. Karyana couldn't scream, couldn't move. Her body felt as if it were being ripped apart, more than that, as if her mind were being ripped in two.


“No!” was all Karyana shouted as she woke in a start, her black hair clinging to her sweat-drenched face. Breathing in quick bursts, she clutched at her blanket, her nails digging so deep that they almost tore into the sheets.

“A nightmare, again?” her lips let out as her eyes shifted to green. “Can’t you get a decent sleep? You’ve been restless for the past four nights!”

Releasing her grip on the sheets, her eyes shifted to brown. “Give her a moment, Lauri. She’s still frightened…” she answered herself.

Taking a few deep long breaths, Kaina waited for Karyana to calm herself before relinquishing control as her eyes shifted back to a crystalline blue.

The young woman pulled herself off of the bed and walked across the dusty inn room floor, her bare feet registering the coldness of the bearskin-covered wooden floor. The basin of clean water on the dresser was still warm as wisps of steam flowed from it - a welcomed sight in these cold times - as she cupped her hands, filling them with water before splashing it over her face. Picking up the wash cloth that was next to the basin, she dipped it in and washed the cold sweat from her skin. After a thorough wash, she reached into her travel bags and pulled out a silver-wood brush, sat back on a stool by the lone mirror that hung next to her bed and brushed out her long black locks.

The trek to Havenglade was long and hard, and her supplies were almost depleted. Even with the cold, she knew that Allision was waiting for her, and that Progeny himself urged her to Bolestra. Still, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t understand why her dreams were no longer the meeting place it used to be. No longer was Demyan waiting, always there to listen to her adventures. No longer were Chime and Bell there, always willing to play and frolic about, helping Karyana forget her troubles for that one night. Instead, all she could see were nightmares of a time she didn’t want to remember.

Her parents had been adamant that she should follow the caravans, but the one trip she undertook almost ended in disaster when a group of dark elves attacked five days ago. She couldn’t remember what happened, but all she knew was that, before the ambush was over, there was no one left alive, except herself.

Even after mourning those who died and making a funeral pyre �" burying the bodies would only have attracted predators -, she had looked through the caravan’s supplies and carried enough rations, water and spiced wine to help her continue, as well as a set of farmer clothes that looked a little too big for her, but this unwieldy disguise was just enough to make her appear less out-of-place than the robes and armored corset she had worn back in Ravenhold.

Not too pleased with having to wrap her chest again, she took a deep breath and readjusted the cloth straps before putting on the coarse chemise and trousers. The next problem was that her hair, which she used to love wearing long, was now an issue, as she was forced to break apart the braid Sayeth taught her to make, then trying again and again to fix her hair into the wide-brimmed hat that her father gave her to protect her from the sun. Looking back into the mirror, she made a smirk as her makeshift costume was finished.

The dead-giveaway was perhaps her face, but wearing her travel mantle and keeping her head low would do in keeping anyone from looking at her. Even dressed as a farmer, she was probably too pretty to fool everyone, but considering her travels to Bolestra would only take until sunset, she knew she could discard the disguise later on.

Grabbing her travel bags, she stood up and walked out into the hall and down the stairs toward the ‘Spoon and Quill Inn’’s common room. It was nearly empty, as the sun was about to rise, so ordering breakfast from the short round woman �" who she first believed was a dwarf - that stood behind the counter was easy. Karyana supposed she must be the wife of the old man that had taken her coins for the night the evening before. Taking a seat at the table in the far corner, she faced the door not wanting any surprise kept her gaze to the table as patrons started to leave their rooms, yawning and stretching or scoffing at the discomfort of the less-than-comfortable beds.

The road awaited, and the black-haired girl was not in the mood to wait. Eating quickly a slice of bread, some roasted ham and a piece of cheese, she kept an eye on the dwarfish woman at the counter and her aging husband, who had accepted her coin last night. Taking her persona to heart, she took a rough step, keeping her arms stiff and her gloved hands on her coin purse.

“Pardon me, but d’you know the best way to Bolestra?” she asked, trying to mimic the accent and speech pattern of some of the neighbors she remembered back in Warmcreek.

“West gate,” the innkeeper’s wife answered with a half-toothy grin. “Might want'er ask about the'r roads though. Could be they're still rained out aft'r last week.”

Karyana nodded and dropped a coin on counter, the glint of silver only visible for a second before the woman snatched it, her eyes wide. Karyana left, both innkeepers keeping an eye on her as she left. Sure she paid more than needed for a night’s rest and a meal, but she knew that a bit of coin is the best way to keep people quiet, and she wanted no one to know that underneath the clothes of a farmer boy was the body of a young woman who traveled alone.

Rather than taking the west gate, like the innkeepers proposed, she took the southern one, hoping to move as discreetly as possible. She had a feeling that the half-demon creature that attacked her and Sayeth �" before the dark elf became Allision �" was about. In fact, Progeny had warned her that “darkness would follow her steps”, thus she had kept on moving, not looking back. The ploy was simple: take the south road towards Coldbark Forest, travel along the edge of the treeline west, then head north into Bolestra. If anyone did head west, they wouldn’t find her, and heading north would only lead them further into Frostreach, where only the foolish would venture, as the cold would become too much for even the best enchantments to stave off.

The only problem was that the southern gate was almost one of the most occupied, and this morning, the town’s guard militia was having a handful because of one man. Karyana tried to ignore the crowd, but as people flooded the streets to watch the event, she had no choice but to blend in.

The rowdy man stood taller than Karyana, had pale skin, grey eyes and very short, brown-ish hair, and was dressed in the black and red robes of the cultists of Xelnos. Rauz had once told her the story of how these cultists rose in power, from being a handful of devouts to the Aspect of Destruction to becoming a religion devoted to the necessity of destruction as a key role in all things. Even though the principle was somewhat sound, their teachings were far from it, as sacrifices and blood offerings were used to pay tribute to the demonic colossus.

Before the guards could get close enough to snare him, the cultist noticed the crowd and, as he pulled out his kris, locked onto Karyana. “Far too pretty a face to be a farmer boy.” he commented, which made the crowd murmur.

The cultist knew who was under the too-large garments, as his master had told him. His orders had been clear: follow her, cause enough of a stir to get her out in the open, then make sure that she died in a place everyone could see. This backwater town was just what he hoped for.

“Such a beautiful young boy,” he said, “And such bright blue eyes.” He flicked out long thin fingers in a barely visible gesture. A swift burst of wind blew Karyana's hat aside, revealing her face and making her long black hair flow down her back. The man grinned, his white teeth seemed bright in contrast with his dark robes.

Karyana removed her travel bag and examined the crowd, who had now huddled to form a very wide circle around the two. “I expected trouble.” she said with some bravado. “Didn’t think you’d be so late!”

The cultist examined the crowd. “Jest all you want. By the end of the hour, everyone in this city will bow down to Xelnos... and you will make the perfect blood offering.”
Before she could pulled out her sword, the cultist’s magic was filling the air. Spell after spell, Karyana was forced to deflect or negate the attacks that were flying her way, as she was outmatched in manaweaving speed. Exchanges of spells and counter-spells made the crowd cheer and jeer as the two spell-casters clashed.

After a few minutes of arcane melee, Karyana came to a conclusion: not only was the man powerful, but even with her sword in hand, he was incredibly difficult to strike. Though neither opponent was physically hurt, she was spending far more manaweave than he was, as if he was tapping into a source of power she couldn’t see. Sweat dappled her forehead; she knew she had to end this and now.

Stabbing the ground with her sword, she quickly gestured a series of hand movements and hoped her manaweave was enough to penetrate the dark priest’s defenses. However, even as her spell was cast, a blast of energy trying to break the manaweave around the cultist, she noticed him firing another spell, as if trying to piggy-back onto hers. It was impossible to dodge at this moment, so Karyana did the one thing that Scyens taught her about countering counter-magic: “If a spell is cast over your own, best to cast over theirs.”

Karyana had some difficulty recognizing the manaweave that was fired at her, but she did as best as she could to fire her spell with her free hand before his spell struck her. In the end, both spell-casters braced as spells impacted, knocking them off their feet.

Karyana was the first to show any signs of being affected by her opponent’s spell. Her thoughts were starting to corrode as she struggled to keep the magic from breaking her apart. She could feel the push of darkness around her body, even as pressure built everywhere around her. It was getting hard for her to make sense of the shifting shadows that were the people that surrounded her, as her eyes started to shift in colors.

Inside her mind, the black-haired mageling heard a scolding voice. “Stop fooling around! If you can’t stop one lesser manaweave, I’ll do it myself!” she heard, as her eyes started to darken, as if her irises were being filled with ink.

The cultist dropped his Mage Armor spell for a moment to examine Karyana who was slowly rising from her collapsed position onto her feet. “Yes… that’s it. Rise and become a servant of destruction!” he gloated, feeling the manaweave around her shift.

“The only… destruction… today… will be… yours!” she shouted, revealing emerald eyes as the darkness inside her eyes faded.

The cultist didn’t have time to raise his protection before the manaweave that previously surrounded him �" the ‘flimsy’ spell he had knocked aside �" soon struck him with greater force than he had anticipated.

Laurinya stared at the cultist who was trying in vain to stop the manaweave that was attacking his skin before walking over to her travel bags and pulling out a small knife, one that Karyana used to cut branches for a meager fire. Switching the blade to her left hand, the emerald-eyed girl pulled open the lace of her chemise, revealing her bindings that seemed pulled with an added strain. Flicking the blade, Laurinya cut through the wraps and let her chest free of the restraints before tying the lace back together. Even now, she felt as if her entire skin was aflame, which made her breasts feel heavier, somehow.

Taking a moment to speak mentally to Karyana, Laurinya smirked. ‘See? That’s how power should be used. You’re just too weak to understand it, so I’m taking it all for myself!’ she thought-spoke as her hair, now cascading down her back, moved with the wind as smooth silky strands curling into thick locks began to bleed into a bright golden blond.

The crowd grew uneasy, some even scared, as Laurinya readjusted her own form, causing the boyish clothes to creek as it clung to her changing body. No one was paying attention to the writhing cultist now; all eyes were on Laurinya now, who removed the laces on her shirt and primped herself, examining a strain of golden hair as the lace-less chemise now showed a good amount of cleavage as fabric was starting to tighten around her.

“I’m going to enjoy-” Laurinya tried to say before she felt a hard pull inside her mind. As her grasp was starting to slip, the golden, cascading mane soon faded back into silky raven-black locks, her eyes starting to switch from a defiant set of green eyes to a more solemn set of crystalline blue.

‘Laurinya, you’re not in control of me!’ Karyana’s voice escaped from her lips. “I am!”

The blue-eyed girl’s own manaweave surged out as the cultist’s mind-corroding spell was soon forced out. Karyana’s body slowly readjusted what Laurinya’s chaotic ideas did, causing her clothes to appear baggy again, yet less than before. Her hair returned to normal although it did seem to keep a bit of its new shine. She felt her breasts recede, but not to their normal size. All in all, it was now impossible to not see her as a woman, now that the clothes did little to cover her identity.

Taking a few long breaths to ease her mind, she heard a discordant scream come from the cultist, whose defenses had now failed him completely. So far he had been able to hold the magic back but the dim glow of light that now permeated his skin told Karyana that he hadn't been able to diminish the power of the two consecutive spells she had instinctively woven together. The priest's brow was dappled with sweat and his body shook. He wouldn't be able to hold it back much longer. The man screamed and the glow was pulled inside his body.

The man yelled again yet this time his voice changed in pitch mid way rising to a high womanly scream. The man shuddered and seemed to somewhat collapse in on himself. His long robes now covered him like a blanket drowning his shrinking frame. Karyana walked over to the changing form and watched in fascination as what almost happened to her was now happening to him; through the wails that were growing higher in pitch, yet weaker in power, she could see his body receding on itself as facial hair burned away and facial traits rapidly changing. The sound of reshaping bones made the crowd shudder as the dark cultist started to twist and flail on the ground, sweat drenching the robes that now seemed too large for what the man was becoming.

Karyana smirked as she closed her eyes for a moment, not watching how the man’s hair quickly grew and flowed into a cascade of straight locks. Inside her mind, she knew what she had to do.

‘Laurinya, if you want your freedom so much, how about you take it?’ she asked, mentally pointing at the man who was quickly losing his current gender.

The emerald-eyed sorceress gave a predatory smile, then reconsidered. “I’d love to… but without me, you’re too plain. But I can definitely see potential in this one. Okay, do what you want with me, and I’ll do what I want with him.”

Karyana’s forehead soon showed a diamond-shaped brand which shimmered before a ray of mana-laced energy struck the cultist’s skull. Seconds later, the cultist’s body stopped flailing and wailing as female traits overrode what previous was a dark-hearted man.

It took a few moments for Laurinya’s essence to adjust itself in the new body, but the incomplete spirit soon melded with what was left of the cultist’s mind: a devotion to… something? She wanted freedom, but also approval… As her mind started to meld with the remnants of the changed priest, she found a strange feeling spread through her mind: freedom in worship, power in beauty, approval and acceptance through pleasure and knowledge… “You… you tricked me…” the once cultist answered as her hair slowly shifted from dark brown to golden blond.

“No, Lauri…” Karyana said, though her eyes were now brown. “You wanted your own life. All we did was alter the chaos inside you and find order within.”

Rage soon showed in the new woman’s face, which soon turned in confusion as she rose to her feet, the robes of the cultist sliding off her frame, revealing her pristine form, which now stood as tall as Karyana, yet ever more feminine. Her emerald eyes soon lost their harshness as new feelings flooded her mind, even as her “sister” held out her arms to embrace her.

Lauri made a serene smile. Her wish for freedom was granted, and she could still feel a part of herself inside Karyana. A tear streamed from her face as she whispered in the black-haired young woman’s ear. “Blessed be.”

Karyana smiled faintly and looked around herself. The battle and subsequent transformation had drawn the crowd closer, and more people were looking on, some from around corners and other from the safety of inside their homes. Turning around, she spotted a group of villagers that were holding out a wide towel, which she grabbed to cover Lauri’s body.

“Would someone find us a tailor, please?” she asked, blushing mildly at the display, being even more embarrassed as the crowd slowly started to applaud before the cheer was almost too loud for her to bear.

Karyana knew she had to go to Bolestra soon, but with her disguise ruined, her face now remembered by more than a hundred people and her chaotic sister now at peace with herself, she knew that making it to the Shrine undetected was a lost cause… yet, she didn’t seem to care as much anymore. All she wanted right now was a hot bath, new clothes and a good meal.

Inside Karyana’s mind, Kaina looked on as Laurinya smiled silently. ‘Will she be alright?’ she asked, holding onto her golden-haired sister, who was still basking in what she thought was a complete victory.

“We’ll be fine.” Karyana spoke, answering to no one, as the two women were led to Prolectae’s shrine near the western gate.

Author's Note

Any and all comments, reviews and critiques are welcome.