C2 "The Death..."

"The Death Of Heirzem"
(WC 3289)

Delyth was the fairest of women, a true jewel in the crown of Hearkendale. Men were inspired by the charisma and vision that drove her husband Heirzem, but they were equally inspired to respect him for the woman who stood faithfully by his side. Had she graced the town more frequently with her presence it could fairly be deemed possible that Delyth herself would have eclipsed Heirzem's position at the heart of Hearkendale's proceedings. She kept mostly to herself, though, remaining mostly confined indoors. She was only ever seen alone when leaving on her frequent solitary walks through the surrounding countryside. Young men, foolishly enchanted by her beauty, would occasionally try to win more time in her presence by following her on these sojourns, but she was renowned for her ability to utterly disappear from sight after exiting the confines of her husband's community.
Because she kept so carefully aloof from the meandering eyes of other men, Delyth strongly retained her reputation as the jewel of Hearkendale. People could sense that their mission in this settlement was right and true and pure because Heirzem stood fast in his leadership and Delyth stood fast by his side. For all of the noble beauty and grace that existed between them there was earned a magical sense of purity for their town.
It was the memory of this purity that most powerfully haunted Rivensorn as he sought to drown his spirit in the comforts of alcohol. He could still hear the weeping voice of Delyth, fallen in mourning at the side of her dead husband. He could still see the look of anger and determination that she bore as the demon fled and dragged her away. There was nothing that Rivensorn could do, no action that he could muster to stop it, for he had arrived too late to help so the power of vengeance did no fully come upon him until he fully comprehended the extent of devastation caused by the attack. The panic and confusion of the moment had betrayed him to an inaction which cursed his every day since. He was absent in their greatest time of need. All of his training and preparation, all of his promise came to nothing more than failure. Herizem was dead and Delyth had not returned.
Heirzem was an idol for Rivensorn, and example of manhood and leadership that inspired the young avenger to strive for understanding that exceeded the simple prejudices he had learned from the spiritual leaders - or Eclosei. Magic was not evil, he reminded himself of the fact daily; the mages were not their enemy. The sentiments he struggled against were not openly held by priest, monk or any other that Rivensorn had known, but their demeanor gave it all away. Their attitudes had awarded him the narrow view of the world which he now stifled and attempted to overcome.
None of the prejudice was present in Heirzem. He had a gruff enthusiasm for reuniting Eclosei with Dour Gujhest that defied any pretense of distrust in his mind. Hearkendale had attracted Rivensorn with the promise of conquest in his mind. An Eclosei establishment that existed well within the traditional borders of mageant influence promised an opportunity to undermine the power and control of the mages. His enthusiasm was misguided, though, for Heirzem had no such vision for Hearkendale. It was to be a mission town, peaceful and diminutive in nature. Their leader worked hard to prevent their establishment from ever appearing to pose any kind of threat to the ways of magic. Heirzem believed that their individual studies could exist together harmoniously and Hearkendale was to be the realization of that belief. Their job was not to sabotage that mages as Rivensorn had suspected, rather it was to create a synergy between their ideals.
Though this effort initially wore hard against his patience, Rivensorn learned much in the way of tolerance by making use of his leader as a mentor and confidant. Though he still could not fathom trusting the practicioners of magic, he knew that the responsibilities of forging that trust fell now completely upon his own shoulders. This was why he had abdicated his traditional post as the town avenger, passing the mantle to Jilan, and stepped forward to replace the noble Heirzem in leading Hearkendale through these troubling times.
The sounds of heckling roused Rivensorn from his depressing reverie as he sat at the local brewery. Newcomers had strayed cautiously into town. Rivensorn stumbled drunkenly to the door and leaned on it as though he might be lying down while standing up. A mage was sidling up the path, eying the inhabitants of Hearkendale cautiously and maintaining a strictly non-threatening demeanor. Along with the mage was another man who appeared to be a warrior. It was apparent that the duo was looking for something, a fact which troubled Rivensorn given the strange combination of his newly acquired responsibilities toward the community and his currently mostly drunken stupor. He thought about moving for a moment, but decided that he would retain a more authoritative air if he remained where he as, propped up against the doorframe.
“Was magic that has damaged our village,” Rivensorn yelled, “so I don't think you can blame people for not wanting you here.” He leered at the mage.
“We mean to help and we do believe that you need what assistance we can offer.” The warrior compansion was the one who replied, stepping forward toward Rivensorn. The mage kept still and quiet, looking patiently at the ground. “Who governs this settlement here?”
“I govern. But we don't need the help of you or any other.” Rivensorn looked down unsteadily and decided that this conversation should continue while seated. “What is your name stranger? Come inside and speak with me.” With that, he stumbled back inside and took hold of the first chair he could find. Another drink would be nice, but he decided he had better do without – for now.
The warrior and mage moved indoors, allowing onlookers to return to their daily tasks. “I am Chulon and this is my companion...” Chulon had asked the mage for his name shortly after their battle at Tannis, but the mage simply shrugged and replied that he had no name. So Chulon took matters into his own hands, “...I call him Phillip.”
“This is an Eclosei settlement,” said Rivensorn, “and our help will come from the priestly factions who are well aware of what has happened here. What business does Dour Gujhest have with my town?”
The mage looked up kindly and finally spoke, “I am not here on behalf of Dour Gujhest, nor should you expect any emissary from them. They will attend to their own matters and should not be construed as seeking discord with your people. I have come at the behest of King Esric, who offers his sympathies and concerns for the many communities which have been disturbed by demons of late.”
Rivensorn raised his brow. “How many communities have been attacked such as this?”
“We've seen many different towns and some suffer more than others.” Chulon interjected. “It seems that they are different demons as well. I did not believe it at first, but I have defeated three of the monsters myself and there are still more attacks.”
Rivensorn looked more closely at Chulon. Demons were not easily defeated. “I have never met a warrior who claimed to defeat even a mage in combat...”
It was a trick question but Chulon was unimpressed. “I did not say I had defeated a mage. If you understand them, it becomes clear that demons are consumed by their abilities. They are reckless and some are not as skilled as you might expect. Every man has a different limit but discipline is the counterbalance to insanity. We are seeking the source of this problem, not petty arguments.”
“We have come on behalf of King Esric,” Phillip reiterated, “our desire is not to test you or upset your mourning. We believe that your town was attacked for a reason, but perhaps we have misjudged. Maybe it would be better if we left the matter in your capable hands.”
Rivensorn glared at the mage. He felt he had been insulted, but he wasn't sure quite how. “You mages think you rule this island...” was his hollow retort.
“Sometimes I think that is true.” The mage sighed deeply.
“How dare you come into my community to insult me!” Rivensorn roared suddenly, leaping onto unsteady feet in anger.
Phillip remained seated calmly. “I meant only that sometimes I suspect mages do think they rule this island. It is a problem that,” he looked pointedly outside the building, “creates more problems.”
Rivensorn calmed himself and thought better of speaking with these strangers any further. “It seems I have acted rashly,” he offered. “Please stay tonight and welcome. I will speak with you more tomorrow, after I have pondered the news you bring.”
Phillip stood and bowed graciously. “Thank you for your kindness, sir.” Chulon did the same.

-[ ]-

Pinmey sat in the town square in the dim early morning light and calmed his mind slowly. He had followed Heirzem like so many others, believing that he could offer meaningful service in the new settlement that they were to establish. Pinmey had learned much since depositing Beturi in the court of the Sinzakij. He had learned that the southern kingdoms were not composed of only the purest forms of evil. In fact, their wholesome normality had served to mend many of the wounds inflicted upon his heart by the harshness of life in the Vechtazul Solace. After finding a home and a new life within the walls of the temple at Mount Isteray, Pinmey had made great strides under his assigned mentors. They were men who truly cared for Pinmey. They wanted only what was best for the young man, with no pretense or hidden agenda about how they might one day use him to their advantage. It was a refreshing difference, and for once Pinmey felt like he belonged somewhere. Living with the Eclosei was not simply a transaction for him, it was a healing process, and it truly felt like home.
He could have remained within the temple walls forever, simply receiving love and acceptance at the hands of the priests and monks. But Pinmey was wont to become restless. In his heart he wanted to do something that would give back to the community that had given him so much. After many years living there and learning about the struggles and hopes held by the Eclosei, Pinmey was delighted when he learned of Heirzem's idea to establish a mission settlement within the Sinzakij lands, so that the Eclosei might extend a hand of friendship toward the mages in an effort to repair the broken relationship between their ways of life.
Pinmey could not say how it had all started, but at some point the mages and priests had simply gone separate ways. They regarded each other with bitterness, envy and, oftentimes, open hatred. The enmity between the Eclosei and Dour Gujhest had a familiar feel to Pinmey. It reminded him of his days with the Nhimyggai, who hated everyone and everything and sought to subjugate the outside world. So it was refreshing when one of his own mentors stepped forward with a plan that held hope and promise for once instead of the usual distrust and anger.
Heirzem had advised Pinmey against joining the expedition, worried that he might not yet be ready to deal with the outside world. Pinmey had shared a great many secrets with Heirzem, things that he had thought he would always keep hidden within for fear of the shame they would bring him. He had spoken openly of his dealings with the Nhimyggai and how he rescued Beturi from certain death. Herizem was only mildly interested in the heroics of the story. What concerned him more was the liberal way Pinmey had dispensed death to his fellow man. So Heirzem felt that Pinmey needed much more time to mend his spirit before he could set himself to the task of helping his fellow man in a mission like Hearkendale. But Pinmey had persisted, convincing Heirzem that it would only be through helping his fellow man that Pinmey could truly repair his broken spirit. Eventually, he had been granted a position with the expedition. It was nothing noteworthy, but Pinmey relished the fact that he had been deemed trustworthy.
He did not want to do anything to violate that trust. So he sat now, surrounded by the emptiness of the square and tried to calm away the feelings of anger and hatred that grew within his sadness. The demonic attack had happened so quickly, he was confused about the exact details. Some kind of confusion spell had overtaken them all it seemed. There were so many details about the attack that were lost now to Pinmey. He could not remember fully what Heirzem had preached. He had seen Delyth there, but he couldn't remember what she had done or whether she had survived. He thought she had disappeared – been dragged away by that demon – but that didn't make a lot of sense. Demons didn't take prisoners... it was unprecedented. They killed and destroyed. They had no carnal desires, only hatred for all of mankind. Why had this one taken Delyth? What sense did that make?
Pinmey remembered that Hearkendale existed to open the arms of the Eclosei to the mages, but he could not remember who their god was. Who did they serve? Who did Heirzem serve? Pinmey remembered the name Drujon, but was unsure if that was a god or an ideal. There was no temple in Hearkendale, but Pinmey had a sneaking suspicion that there should have been a temple in Hearkendale. Or maybe there was none because they did not want to make the mages feel uncomfortable with their presence. But that didn't make sense either. Most of the Sinzakij towns had Eclosei temples in them and this fact had never seemed to bother the mages before. They simply ignored the gods and the temples. How had Heirzem died exactly? Pinmey could not recall. He knew that their leader had fought the thing. He had stood against it. But Pinmey did not remember seeing Heirzem fall in battle. Yet their leader was dead and the demon remained, so surely Heirzem had been slain. There were so many things that were muddied in Pinmey's mind. He found it difficult to stifle the anger rising inside him when he could not even remember the simplest of details about what exactly had happened to Hearkendale.
He enjoyed the town square because of this confusion. He did not know what brilliant mind had devised the plan of creating such a large empty space at the heart of their town, but he was so very thankful for it now. Sitting there on the trodden grass, Pinmey felt a peace from the emptiness of this space. It allowed him a measure of clarity amidst all of the confusion.
“Beautiful morning, is it not?” A voice from next to Pinmey startled him. Someone had joined him there, sitting in the grass, a large man who bore the scars of many battles. Pinmey stifled his surprise and took a deep breath to calm himself.
“Hello.” Pinmey offered, unsure of why this warrior was speaking to him.
“I am Chulon,” The stranger offered, “I traveled here when I heard of the demon attack upon your town.” Pinmey nodded inquisitively. “I am sorry to disturb you,” Chulon also took a deep breath, relishing the fresh morning air, “I can see you are enjoying this fine morning.” He paused. “I am researching the cause of the demon's attack. I am a demon hunter usually, so I am a little new to dealing with the aftermath of such an attack...” Chulon trailed off.
“My name is Pinmey.”
“Do you remember anything about the attack?” Chulon prodded abruptly. “Most everyone here in Hearkendale seemed confused about the exact details of what happened. I don't want to be a bother, but I truly believe that there is something bigger happening around us. In all of my years training and fighting I have never once heard of so many demons attacking the land. I don't know if the mages are losing their grip on sanity or what, but I know there is something about these attacks that I am not seeing. Is there anything you know that I might be missing?”
Pinmey thought about this request for a moment. He felt a twinge of comfort knowing that Hearkendale was not the only place to be assaulted by one of those beastly demons. It intrigued him that Chulon had mentioned the mages might be losing their sanity. Not because Pinmey disliked the mages like so many other Eclosei, but because he clearly remembered how vehemently opposed to them Dihloch had been. He remembered, years ago on the very night that he decided to leave the Nhimyggai and save Beturi that Tiernanuu had spoken of rotting away the foundations of Dour Gujhest through diplomacy. He never really knew what that meant.
“Can a mage be convinced to... become a demon?” Pinmey asked.
It was a surprising question. Chulon thought perhaps that Pinmey was trying to insinuate that these demon attacks might be intentional on the part of the mages, but he was curious enough to play along.
“Well, I can say from experience that a mage can be convinced not to become a demon,” Chulon offered, “so I suppose there might be reason to think that a mage could be convinced to go the other way. The amount of power that some mages wield can be a very tempting force for them.”
Pinmey nodded. “I grew up in the Vechtazul Solace. I was born to the tribe of Morday with some heritage in the tribe of Suspralty. But I fled that land and was taken in by the Eclosei.”
Chulon looked at the young priest questioningly. He was not sure what this man's history might have to do with demonic attacks.
“When I lived in the northlands, I did not serve the tribe of Morday or any other tribe,” Pinmey started again, “because there is a hidden group that connects all of the tribes together. I pledged my allegiance to this group and served them only. The leader of this group has a great hatred for Dour Gujhest. He says that they stole his birthright.” Pinmey stopped talking then, looking off into the sky.
Chulon was still confused about how this related to his investigation. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because this group – the Nhimyggai they call themselves – also knows magic. They used to brag about stealing magical secrets from Dour Gujhest. Before I left, I remember that they claimed they would use diplomacy to rot away the foundations of Dour Gujhest.” Pinmey said this earnestly, with just enough conviction to convince Chulon that it mattered. But Pinmey dropped the matter then and said, “I am sorry, I do not remember much about the attack. I only know that Heirzem is dead and we await word of what to do next.”
Chulon had questioned most of the priests in the settlement over the past few days, but this was the first time that he had encountered someone who had any information besides simple confusion. He wasn't sure how to take Pinmey's claims of a secret magical society in the northlands, but he would ask Rivensorn about the accuracy of Pinmey's claims later. For now he was just thankful to have a sensible idea to look into.