Terry Simpson - Etchings of Power

Ryne veered off from the path the scoutmaster set and broke into a full out sprint, his hand on his scabbard to keep it in place. To his right Sakari kept pace, sandy hair bouncing to match his languid strides, a constant shadow hovering somewhere near, eyes seeing everything but revealing nothing. As Ryne expected, Mariel turned tail and sped toward the Fretian Woods.

With the path clear ahead, Ryne opened his mind and linked with Sakari. Ryne’s vision doubled. In one sight, he was in his own body, tearing through the brush. In the other, he saw through Sakari’s eyes as if he ran in his companion’s boots, each step a glide that barely touched the ground.

“Whatever we do, we must catch her before she reaches the woods,” Ryne said under his breath.

“As you wish.”

Ryne closed the link, and his vision receded to his alone once more. Ponytail slapping against his back, he ate up the distance between him and Mariel. Frightened birds flapped from his path, their morning song interrupted, protesting squawks coming in discordant jangles.

Dren’s unfinished question had brought up another issue Ryne had considered. Suppose Mariel did use the elements to hide? That would make her more than the high ranked priestess she claimed since she arrived in Carnas. Lips curling, Ryne snarled and pumped his massive legs faster. The old pain from his torture by the Tribunal rose anew. If she did possess the ability to use the same power as he, then he would force her to do so. When she did, she would confirm his suspicions of her intent. And he would kill her.

Deep inside himself, Ryne’s bloodlust flared to life. In response, his Scripts-the tattoos covering his body- roiled like living things.

Down a gentle slope they ran, the occasional tree a blur as they pursued. On the opposite incline, Mariel crested the hilltop before she disappeared down the other side.

As he rushed to the top of the hill, Ryne’s strides faltered and slowed. He’d chosen what he thought was the perfect moment and the best path to cut her off. Somehow, the woman had anticipated his move. Not only had she opened up more distance since the chase began, but she fled at an angle that made sure she would reach the woods long before he managed to catch her. So clear was her path and wide her distance, not only was catching her near impossible, but he wouldn’t be able to close the gap to read her aura.

Unless…

He growled in frustration, and his bloodlust surged.

“ Embrace your power ,” a deep voice, steeped in malevolence, whispered in his head. “ Capture her. Kill her.”

“ No. Remember what that has cost you in the past ,” warned a soothing voice in a low whine. “The blood, the bodies, the innocents slaughtered. ”

“Yessss,” the first voice encouraged in trembling tones of a creature savoring its pleasure. “Remember the past. How your power saved you. Our power. Kill for ussss. Feed ussss. And none can escape you.”

The opposing voice pleaded, “No, please, no. If you do so, you will lose yourself yet again. Is that your wish? To see all you love covered in blood by your hands, steeped in despair that you wrought?”

On and on the voices warred. Ryne closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the argument a buzz in the background. As he had practiced the last few years, he listened to the latter voice. If he touched his power now, not only would he kill Mariel, but if he lost control, those he’d come to love in Carnas would suffer a similar fate. Shuddering with the effort, he fought down his lust and shut it off yet again. He heaved a sigh. This sudden rise of his urges didn’t bode well. Suspicion of Mariel’s ill intentions was all well and good, but without proof, he was no better than those in Carnas who blamed the woman for the missing villagers or the recent bodies they’d found.

What was he thinking? Regardless of her capacity in her work for Granadia’s Tribunal, should anything happen to her, Carnas’ inhabitants would pay. The Tribunal’s price was always absolute. Ryne squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Picturing those he loved in Carnas lying dead under the Tribunal’s banners, crushed by the boots of their military might brought bile rising to his throat.

“Sakari, stop,” Ryne shouted. He churned to a halt, his breathing heavy with exertion.

Sakari slowed to a walk. He turned and glided back to Ryne in those smooth strides of his. As he drew close, Sakari shook his head. “You make this more difficult than it needs to be.” The green pupils of his eyes were deep pools of nothingness.

Ryne ignored the man. He’d heard the same more than enough times. Well ahead of them, Mariel reached the woods’ rosewood and mahogany trees and vanished among the dappled shadows cast by trunks and branches. Ryne spared a glance for the footsteps thudding behind him.

Breaths coming in harsh gasps, Dren caught up with them. “W-What was that all about?” His chest heaved as he gathered himself. “Why chase her now?”

Ryne shrugged.“ I thought I’d be able to get her before she reached the woods.”

Dren wheezed a laugh. “I’ve seen that bitch easily outrun our dogs. Forian and the others have been whipping the village into a frenzy since you been gone the last two days.” He sucked in a breath. “He been saying the things she does proves she’s evil. They say she follows the path of the shade.”

“And the mayor has been allowing him as usual,” Ryne concluded.

Dren nodded. “There’s others who think differently, but sooner or later they’re going to attack Mariel. May be a good idea for you to speak to them before it gets any worse. They’re meeting at Hagan’s right now.”

“Yes. I might have to,” Ryne said, expression thoughtful, his gaze focused on the area where Mariel had fled. She reappeared at the forest’s edge. “Lead us to the body,” he said to Dren.

Gesturing toward where Mariel now stood, Dren grunted and shook his head. “She sure is persistent.” He turned to lead them back the way they’d come.

After one last look at Mariel, Ryne followed Dren with Sakari in tow. Within an hour, the wood-tile roofs and sturdily built homes of Carnas dwindled behind them to the south as they passed the sparse trees dotting this section of the plains. Dren called for them to stop at a small stand of trees. Ryne glanced back. From the edge of the copse, the lone sandstone structure of Hagan’s Inn stuck up from the dip in the land where Carnas was located. Near the slope’s crest behind them, Mariel watched, but made no attempt to venture closer.

“The body’s just in there.” Dren pointed to a few stunted kinai trees. The sweet fruit from the misshapen branches dotted the ground, their color yellowed and pale instead of their normal red.

Hand on his sword, Ryne strode toward the kinai orchard with Sakari flanking him. Ryne picked out an old blood trail and smelled the stink of death before he saw the body. Ravaged beyond recognition like the others, the corpse had been stripped naked, limbs twisted at odd angles. From the mess for a face and the torn torso, he could barely tell the person was a man.

Grinding his teeth, his nose upturned at the stench of offal, Ryne inspected the death wounds without touching the remains. The shredded flesh across the corpse’s face made Ryne brush the old scars that striped the left side of his own. What did this? Could Mariel be responsible like some suggested? And if so, how? He knew every creature within the woods. None came to mind that could have torn a person in such a way. Something from the Rotted Forest, maybe? No. His Scripts hadn’t warned him that his wards had been triggered.

He longed to touch his power to see if any malevolence existed within the gashes or the body, but the potential consequences stopped him. Until he figured out why his control appeared to wane, he needed to resort to relying on his physical gifts. Old habits died hard, and this dead body reminded him too much of his past, of the War of Remnants, of the years before when he’d seen beasts ravaged in even worse ways totter to their feet and attack. A simple method existed for him to make certain no such darkness existed here.