The Reaches of the Pit

Just a few doors down from the healing ward Landon dozed lightly in a chair. A rapid knocking woke him instantly and he answered the door, medicine bag in hand.

A stable boy stood on the threshold, his eyes wide with fright. He wouldn’t speak, but motioned for Landon to follow him and scurried away. Landon kept up as best he could, his old knees creaking like rusty door hinges.

The boy led him to the servants’ entrance and out into the warm night. The stars were clear and bright, and a light breeze gently stirred the earth as they hurried to the gate.

The servants’ gate was much smaller and narrower than the grand affair at the front of the palace and was only guarded by two soldiers. The men on duty looked up quickly and sighed in relief when they saw Landon. One held a torch that he beckoned them over with.

“Well, who’s hurt?” Landon panted, peering at each man in turn.

The soldiers didn’t speak; they simply gestured at the gate. Landon could make out a human form on the other side, propped against the iron bars.

“Why didn’t you let the poor soul in?” Landon demanded. When neither soldier answered he took the keys from their belt and unlocked the gate slowly, careful to not jolt the wounded man. The soldiers took a step back and the stable boy hid behind them, trembling. Landon motioned for light and drew his breath in sharply.

It was a man, or it used to be. His skin was milk-white and shrunken, like an animal skin stretched over a frame. The whites of his eyes were blackened and black streaks ran like tears down his cheeks. His eyes rolled endlessly and he clawed at Landon desperately with bony fingers. “Help me,” he gasped, his breath rattling in his throat.

Landon grabbed his hands and pulled them off of his robe. “What happened to you?” he asked firmly.

The man seemed to struggle for breath, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Ate me,” he replied, sobbing. More black tears trickled from his eyes as he tried to speak again. “She...ate me.”

The man convulsed violently, his nails digging into Landon’s hands, then he suddenly went limp. Landon felt for a pulse and, finding nothing, gently laid the man down and stood, wiping his forehead. The soldiers and stable boy were frozen, terrified by what they had witnessed. Landon dug a pouch out of his bag and pulled out some herbs.

“Chew this,” he said quietly, pressing some into their hands. “It will calm you.”

All three of them mechanically lifted their hands to their mouths and put the herbs in, chewing silently.

“This man seemed to be suffering some type of tumor,” Landon stated simply. “Often people seek out backalley remedies that can go horribly wrong, as you’ve seen here tonight,” he said, gesturing at the body on the ground.

“Sir?” the stable boy asked, finally finding his voice. “That man...he said someone ate him. What did he mean?”

Landon gave the boy a sad smile. “This poor man’s mind was long gone by the time I reached him,” he said softly. “Don’t let what he said trouble you.”

They seemed to rally at this, comforted that there was a reasonable explanation for the horror lying in the dust.

Landon turned to the soldiers. “Put the body in a wheelbarrow and take it to the pauper’s grave outside of the city. Bury him there quickly and quietly. Though his malady wasn’t contagious, some might see his face and cry plague.”

The soldiers nodded bravely and set to work, lifting the dead man gingerly and placing him in a cart. Landon ruffled the boy’s hair and made his way back to the castle.

Once he was inside and alone, Landon hurried down the long stone avenue, worry growing in his mind. He reached his room and hurried inside, barring the door behind him.

His fire burned low and he tossed a log onto it in passing, causing sparks to shoot up with a hiss. He paced before the rekindled blaze, his worried shadow darting from wall to wall endlessly.  

A violent gust of wind wrenched his shutters open, sending parchments whirling around the room. The room chilled and black smoke trickled in, curling around Landon’s feet. Landon grabbed the poker and held it out threateningly.

“Come now. Is that any way to greet an old friend?” a voice purred huskily. A figure took shape in the smoke, tall and willowy. It was a woman, and she smiled at Landon knowingly. “Did you like my calling card?” she asked. “I thought it had been far too long an absence for me to just send a note.”

She caressed Landon’s cheek with a slender hand, her skin icy to the touch. Landon didn’t flinch. “How dare you come back,” he growled angrily. “You have no power anymore.”

“Don’t I?” she said, whipping her nails violently across his cheek. Landon winced as the blood ran down his face.

“This king knows nothing of me,” she continued, “and I have had much time to strengthen myself. He and his kingdom will crumble into dust before me and I will feast on his soul.”

Landon swung the poker and the woman dissipated, malevolent laughter echoing softly.

“What’s the matter, no more magic tricks up your sleeve?” she taunted, rematerializing by the window. “This land belongs to me,” she said, placing a hand on the wall possessively. “Your precious king may have driven me back before, but I will not be so easily overcome this time. I will root out this human pestilence that has stolen my land and I will rule it in the ancient way.”

“The ancient way?” Landon scoffed. “You were human once. You forfeit your soul so that you could live forever. You rule nothing; death rules you.”

“I own death!” she screamed, raking her fingernails across the stone wall. “Your so-called king abandoned this country when he couldn’t kill me. His descendants will not help you. You are alone, and you will burn along with the rest!”

Landon pointed the poker at her. “You may try, but you will fail. And this time you will be sent into the deepest reaches of the pit, where even you can’t claw your way out.”

The woman laughed. “A man who dies fighting always makes for a better meal. I welcome your futile challenge. Prepare yourself, old man; the battlefield awaits.”

A plume of smoke went up and she was gone, leaving frost around the window. “Until we meet again!” she called, her words echoing faintly on the wind.

Landon hurried over and bolted the window shut, the ice already melting around the shutters. A black stain lay where the woman’s hand had been, like a scorch mark.

He slumped down in his chair, gingerly feeling his injured cheek. “Guardian help us all,” he whispered.