David Dalglish: Weight of Blood

Qurrah kept his eyes low, unable to meet Velixar’s gaze.

“I was afraid when they came, but as I watched Master slaughter hundreds of them with his golems and his shields of bone I felt at home amid the carnage. I knew then what I was to become.”

“How did you escape?” Velixar asked.

“Master exhausted himself defending his tower,” Qurrah said, waving a dismissive hand. “He collapsed at the very top. I cast a spell upon his throat, filling it with ice. I watched him die and then I left that disgusting place forever.”

“You were a worthy apprentice,” Velixar said. “Especially to learn such a spell on your own. Your master was blind.”

“He was weakened,” Qurrah said. “Even the clumsiest of fighters can slay a sleeping man.”

“How old were you then?” Velixar asked.

“Nine,” Qurrah said.

The man in black shook his head. His expression showed there would be no further argument. “If you had been mine at the age of nine… my previous apprentice Xelrak held but a shred of your strength.”

Qurrah straightened at the name. “I have heard of Xelrak. He toppled the Citadel.”

Velixar smiled as he remembered a cherished memory. “Indeed. It was his finest hour, and a significant victory for Karak. The paladins of Ashhur are all but crushed.”

“What happened to him?”

His burning eyes held no kindness when the man in black spoke.

“Xelrak failed. Even with all the power I granted him, he failed. He tried to destroy the Council of Mages. They destroyed him, instead.” Velixar gave a greedy look at Qurrah. “He was but a starving boy when I found him. I gave him a name and lent him my power. It is how I have survived all these centuries. I do not risk my own life. I give my power to others. I am the hilt, and my apprentice is the blade. But you…”

Again that greedy look.

“You are extraordinary. I do not have to give you unearned power. I must simply guide and instruct.” Velixar stood, and when his power flared, Qurrah fell to his knees and worshipped his new master. “You are what I have searched for all these years. You and I will destroy this world side by side. We will lay waste to all life and put absolute order upon every last soul.”

“Teach me,” Qurrah said, his mouth buried into the dirt. “Give me the power that I have sought for so very long.”

Velixar looked down at his thin, ragged apprentice. “Rise. Let us begin.”

Velixar taught until the stars retreated from the obnoxious sun. Qurrah returned home, his eyes sagging and his mind exhausted. When he climbed into bed, he fell asleep instantly. Not long after, Harruq rose, took his swords, and left for his own meeting.

Y ou’re late,” Aurelia said, stepping out from behind a tree. Harruq shrugged and held out two branches he had whittled into crude imitations of swords.

“Had to make something for me to spar you with,” he said.

“Those sticks are unnecessary,” Aurelia said as she took up her staff, the tiniest hint of a smile curling on her lips. “Draw your swords.”

“Are you sure,” Harruq asked, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to her completely unarmored form. “I’ll only end up hurting you.”

“You won’t,” she said. “Here. Strike me with your blade.”

The half-orc’s jaw dropped a little. “You lost your mind?”

“I said hit me, orc!” Aurelia shouted.

Harruq snarled, and out came his weapons. He swung for her face, turning the blade at the last moment so the flat side struck her. The sword smacked off Aurelia’s cheek as if she were made of stone. The clear noise rang throughout the forest.

“What the abyss was that?” Harruq asked.

Aurelia laughed. “I’ve cast an enchantment that protects me from your blades.”

Harruq looked at his weapons and then shrugged. “Interesting. Do I get one too?”

In answer, Aurelia smacked her staff against Harruq’s shin. The half-orc roared in pain as he hopped up and down on one foot.

“Damn it!” he shouted. “What was that for?”

“Hitting you is my reward for doing well,” she said. “Consider it my way of making sure you don’t go easy on me. So are you ready to begin?”

Harruq mumbled something obscene. He nodded, swung in a low chop, and as it struck her staff the sparring began.

Aurelia was familiar with her staff, the wood comfortable in her grip. She weaved it through the air naturally enough. She had no sense of tactic, though, and all it took was a quick feint or two before she left herself horribly open.

Harruq used only one sword, running it in slow circles, stabs, and the occasional feint. He enjoyed the steady workout, and enjoyed even more watching Aurelia move gracefully through the air. Whenever his eyes lingered too long, however, he’d feel the sharp sting of Aurelia’s staff against his arms or chest.

When they finished, Harruq slumped onto his rear and rubbed his bruises.

“I shouldn’t be able to hit you,” Aurelia said as she sat across from him, her legs tucked underneath her.

“Yeah, so?” Harruq asked.

“So tomorrow don’t let me hit you,” she said.

The half-orc mumbled and rolled his eyes. Aurelia leaned back against a tree, her eyes studying him. Her look gave him shivers, both good and bad.

“Tell me about yourself,” she said. Harruq raised an eyebrow. “Your childhood. Your likes. Your life.”

“For what reason?” he asked.

“I heard those men. I saved you from the gallows. I would prefer to know more about the life I spared.”

Harruq leaned his head on his fist and stared at the grass, growing increasingly uncomfortable. “I don’t know. Not too much to tell really. My brother and I grew up in Veldaren, and about three months ago the king kicked out all elves. Believe it or not, that included us.”

Aurelia halted him with a hand. “First, who is your brother? Second, since when are you elvish?”

The half-orc chuckled, but still kept his eyes downward. “Our mum was an orc. Dad was an elf. Never met dad, and mum sold Qurrah and me when we both were little. I ran away and lived on the streets of Veldaren. Found Qurrah about year or two later, hiding in the streets after he escaped his master. My brother, well…”

She watched as Harruq struggled through some sort of internal debate. His brown eyes finally rose up to meet hers.

“Qurrah’s like you, but not. You can cast magic right?” Aurelia nodded. “Well, he can too. But he… he’s different. When we were kids, he found a little mouse. It was dead as dead can be. He closed his hands around it, just like this.” He clasped his hands around an imaginary mouse. “And then he whispered some words he learned from secretly watching Master.”

“Master?” Aurelia asked, interrupting him again.

“Yeah,” Harruq said, frowning. “My brother didn’t have too much fun before I found him. We were both sold, but I escaped. Qurrah, though, he was sold to Master…forget it, that’s for another time. All that matters is that he learned those words before he met me. He whispered something, opened his hands, and then just like that the mouse got up and started running.”

“He brought it to life?” she asked.

“Well…” Again he stopped, obviously uneasy about what he wanted to say. “It was still dead, but it was moving now. That make sense? Qurrah could make it do whatever he wanted. He let it run off and die, that first one he showed me. He was pretty embarrassed.”

Harruq suddenly stopped and laughed. “You should have seen us, Aurelia. We spent the rest of the day chasing after mice so we could stomp them and have Qurrah bring them back to do tricks.”

Aurelia smiled at the burly half-orc.

“You really made them do tricks?” she asked.