T Lain - Return of the Damned

She looked back at the growing cloud. Lindroos and her soldiers were inside, but who knew what sort of evil was concealed in those fumes. Alhandra was seasoned enough to know that there was magic in this world that would harm only the good and pure of heart while sparing the wretched and wicked.

She turned to her holy avengers. “We’ve won this battle,” she said. “Let her go.”

Regdar knelt beside Naull. “No, Jozan,” he explained. “She was with the blackguard willingly.” He looked up at the cleric and shrugged. “She said she was angry that I left her in the City of Fire.”

“Angry that you left her?” asked Alhandra. “She asked you to go.”

“That’s how I remember it,” replied Regdar. “She must be under a spell.”

Jozan knelt beside him and took hold of Naull’s wrist. He nodded his head. “I don’t think it was a spell,” he said. “There are few things that can compel a person to act so violently toward someone they consider a friend.”

“Jozan is right, Regdar,” agreed the paladin. “As powerful as Lindroos is, there are only a handful of wizards in this part of the world who could even cast a spell that would make Naull act the way you describe.” She examined the wound on Tasca’s face as she spoke.

Regdar dropped his head. “What if she no longer considers me a friend?”

Jozan looked up from his patient on the floor. “I’ve seen some interesting wounds caused by women who had a particular hatred for the men they once loved,” said the cleric. “Even assuming Naull did blame you for leaving her in the City of Fire, I don’t sense that her spirit turned to evil.”

Regdar crinkled his brow. “I don’t understand.”

Jozan smiled. “Even if she hated you now, Naull is still a good person at heart, and she wouldn’t harm you if she were under a spell.”

The big fighter slumped even more. “Then what made her act like that?”

“Knowing Lindroos,” said the paladin, “it’s likely a curse.”

Jozan looked at Alhandra. He cocked his head to the side, seeming to ponder the idea, then he nodded.

“She could be right.”

Regdar looked up. “Can you cure her?”

Jozan took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes,” he said, “but I need time. There are prayers and rituals…”

“Then I suggest we get ourselves safely outside of this tainted fortress and find a good camp for the night,” said Alhandra. “You men are in need of some serious healing and rest.”

Regdar nodded. He slipped his hands under Naull’s limp body and stood up. Her petite frame draped over his outstretched arms as if she were a child’s doll. He looked to Whitman and Tasca.

“You two bring Clemf.” He lowered his head, taking a deep breath to steady his emotions. “We’ll give him a proper burial when we’re out of this godforsaken place.”

Outside the swamp, far from the shadow of Mt. Fear, Regdar piled one last shovelful of dirt onto Clemf’s grave.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” he said. “I never imagined it would be this way.”

With a final sigh, he turned and headed back to the campfire where Jozan was finishing healing Whitman and Tasca.

“You’re next, Regdar,” said the cleric.

Regdar nodded and sat down near the fire. Jozan knelt beside him.

“What should we do with Naull?” asked the fighter as the cleric examined him. “She’s been unconscious for a while, but she’ll wake up soon. I hit her awfully hard.”

Jozan prodded the wound in Regdar’s shoulder. “Well,” he said, “without knowing exactly how she’s been cursed, I think it would be best if we tied her up and gagged her, so she can’t use her magic. Maybe even put a guard on her.”

Regdar clenched his eyes shut against the pain as Jozan worked. “I’ll stay up with her.”

The cleric nodded. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

The moon rose high in the sky that night, illuminating the open plain. A light wind blew the razor grass and dried vegetation, making a rustling sound all round. The fire burned low in the pit, hissing and popping now and again.

Regdar looked down on Naull. She lay on her side, hands tied behind her back, a torn piece of cloth tied around her mouth.

He shook his head. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “So very sorry.”

Naull rolled to one side and straightened her legs. She groaned, then blinked her eyes open. Regdar knelt in front of her, hoping that somehow she’d wake to see him and everything would be like it had been before.

The wizard tugged on her restraints, but they didn’t budge. Straining without the use of her hands, Naull sat up. When her eyes crossed Regdar, they narrowed into a glare that made the man shiver. He felt like a child again, caught by a parent after doing something terribly wrong and being judged for a mistake he would never live down.

“Naull,” he said sheepishly, “please believe that I didn’t want to leave you.”

She continued to glare.

“The city was shifting back into the Elemental Plane of Fire. You were trapped with Lindroos in the magical sphere that you created. You asked me to go, to save myself.” Regdar wrung his hands together, pleading with Naull. “I didn’t want to go. Don’t you remember? The others, they dragged me away. Krusk nearly killed me to get me away.” He dropped his hands and his head.

“When we got outside the city, I… I didn’t know what to do. I thought you were dead, and if you were then I wanted to die too. I wanted to rush back inside.” He shrugged his shoulders, still looking at the ground. “I tried to go back, but the gates to the city slammed shut on me. Alhandra and the others urged me to travel with them, to go back to New Koratia, but I didn’t. I stayed there for days, wishing I could see you one last time… agonizing over the pain and suffering you must be enduring, burned alive on the Plane of Fire. It pains me now to even think about it, about the suffering I felt for you.” Regdar looked up.

Naull’s gaze hadn’t softened.

“I waited there almost two weeks,” he continued, “hoping by some miracle that the city would return, or that you’d appear and everything would be okay.” He snorted. “I couldn’t believe you were really gone. I didn’t want to believe you were gone.” Taking a deep breath, the big fighter sat down hard on the dirt. “Finally, a gypsy caravan traveled past. I was dirty and hungry and probably didn’t smell too good. They gave me some food and water and pointed me toward home. I don’t remember the journey. When I arrived in New Koratia, I was lost. I was home, but I didn’t belong. I had no purpose, no reason to live.” He put his head in his hands.

“Had I known you were alive, I would have scoured the earth.” He picked up a pile of dirt and let it fall through his hands. “Instead I volunteered for every dangerous mission, hoping to get myself killed in battle.” He picked up a small rock and tossed it into the slowly receding darkness. “I hoped an umberhulk or ogre would smash my head in, but I was too afraid to let it actually happen.” He shook his head again. “I’m sorry Naull. I’m so very, very sorry.” Regdar’s throat tightened up again, and tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He sniffled, trying to hold it back.

A strong hand grabbed him by the shoulder, and Regdar scrambled to his feet, pulling his greatsword from its sheath as he did. Standing there, sword in hand, tears dripping down his face, his heart sounding like goblin war drums in his ears, Regdar looked into Jozan’s smiling face.

He held his hands up. “Relax,” said the cleric. “It’s almost morning, and I’m ready to cast that spell.”

Regdar lowered his sword. “Thank Pelor.”

Jozan stood before Naull. The wizard glared up at him with the same angry expression she’d been using on Regdar.