The World of the Living
A D'veen Tale for Flash Fiction February (Day 21)
“I don’t make a habit of conjuring the dead,” he said. “It never benefits the living.”
Ratwana Darswin lifted his eyes from the magically preserved human corpse on his table. He looked into the empty sockets of the animated skeleton named Aaermont the Undying standing across from him.
“Is that supposed to be an impression of me? It sounds nothing like me,” he said, picking up a small glass vial off the smaller table to his left.
“Well, maybe I would be better at impersonations if you had left me with vocal cords!” Aaermont said, his bony jaw clicking with each passing word.
Ratwana sighed. “Are you going to complain the entire time?”
The skeleton standing before him shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe? You told me we would be out of this infernal prison within a few days. I don’t know how long it’s been, seeing as how as I can’t see the sun, but I’m pretty sure more than a few Chrona have passed!”
Ratwana poured a few drops of the liquid from the vial. They hit the skin of the body below him and sizzled. A patch of hair grew rapidly from where the liquid landed. Ratwana turned the vial back to face him, his brow furrowed. He leaned in and sniffed the scent wafting from the small opening.
“Oh, well, that explains it. What were you saying, Aaermont?”
The skeleton threw up his hands and walked to one of the makeshift beds on the opposite side of the room. He fell onto it, barely making any sound because he was nothing more than hollow bones.
“Throwing a tantrum isn’t going to get us out of here any faster,” Ratwana said.
“No, but it will make me feel better!”
Ratwana focused on the task, carefully holding the new vial over the corpse before him.
“I’m telling you, Aaermont, this will work!” We’ll be out of here in no—”
The moment the liquid hit the skin of the corpse, Ratwana vanished. Being one of the Magiri, his body was nothing more than a vaguely cohesive collection of mist shaped like something with a head, arms, and legs, but even this ethereal form had disappeared.
His hooded robe descended to the ground like an autumn leaf. Aaermont sat up in his bed, his empty eye sockets scanning the room.
“Oh, very funny, Deathcaller! Show your—”
The skeleton’s bones separated all at once, falling in a heap on the floor. Silence overtook the small chamber.
Then, the corpse on the table in the center gasped for air. It bolted upright, its eyes moving independently, something its species could not typically do. It swung one of its naked legs over the edge of the table and then paused.
It clicked its tongue against the roof of its mouth before pulling the leg back onto the table and lying back down. Its eyes were still wide, each darting independently around the room. The corpse sighed heavily.
“Would you just stop for a moment!” the corpse shouted.
“Stop what?” the corpse replied, using the same voice.
“If we both try to control it, we’ll never get out of here!” the corpse continued.
“Wait a moment, you never said we would both be inside the body!”
“That was literally the premise of the entire spell, Aaermont!” the corpse shouted.
A door began to materialize on the opposite side of the room, where there had once been a solid stone wall. It wavered in like an illusion.
The corpse shut its eyes. “Don’t move! They’re going to send someone in to see what’s happened.”
“I’m not the one you need to worry about!” the corpse said.
“Silence!”
The corpse sat perfectly still as the door continued to waver like a half-remembered dream. After a moment, it solidified. The corpse and the door remained still.
“How long is this going to take?” the corpse asked.
“You’re asking as if I’ve done this before?”
After another moment without incident, the corpse awkwardly stood to its feet. It turned its head down and gasped.
“My lord, we’re naked!” the corpse shouted.
“You’re just now realizing this?”
The pale body walked over and picked up the robe off the floor. It brushed off some dust that had gathered on the gold embroidery running along the hood seam, put on the robe, and headed to the door.
As it reached out to grab the iron handle, the corpse’s hand twisted back towards the body. It grunted in frustration.
“What in the nine hells are you doing?” the corpse asked.
“Get my bones, damn you!”
“Fine!”
The corpse turned around and returned to the pile of bones belonging to Aaeromont the Undying's body. It used the bottom of the robe as a pouch, awkwardly shoveling the bones into the fabric.
“There, can we go now?” the corpse asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
The corpse walked back to the door and pulled the handle open. Fresh air rushed into the room. As it stepped through, the world turned on its side.
The corpse landed face-first on a cold stone floor, but it was a different floor. Being trapped in that other realm for as long as he had, Ratwana was quite familiar with the intricacies of the floor in his prison. This one was different.
“Can we please leave this body now?” the corpse asked.
“Yes, I believe we can.”
A brilliant flash of light, and the corpse returned to being a lifeless husk. The pile of bones on the ground beside it rose up into the air, arranging themselves and snapping together until it resembled the skeleton of a humanoid creature.
Meanwhile, a black mist swirled in the air. It slid into the empty robe and filled it out. The two figures looked around at the dark room they found themselves in.
“I don’t know what we would have done if that wayward thief hadn’t accidentally wandered into our prison,” Ratwana said, looking down at the corpse.
“I suppose you could say we had a bone to pick with him!” Aaermont replied.
Ratwana didn’t have eyes, but he glared at Aaermont nonetheless.
“Any more cheeky jokes like that, and I’ll send you back into the prison,” he said.
Beneath them on the ground was a small artifact that had trapped them both long ago. Freedom was his, but Ratwana was not eager to face the sins that had led him to be imprisoned in the first place.
“Time to face the music, friend. Let’s see what the Magiri are up to, shall we?” Ratwana asked.
Aaeromont nodded. “I’m proud of you for trying to make amends.”
Ratwana shrugged. “As I said, I’ll do anything but return to that prison.”
The two made their way to the room’s exit and took the stone steps leading up to the surface. The door to the vault where the prison artifact and others had once been kept was destroyed.
This was most likely how the thief had made his way into Ratwana’s prison. A poor choice on the thief’s part, but Ratwana was grateful for his morbid curiosity as it gave them a way out.
What Ratwana didn’t expect was the sight he beheld next.
“It cannot be…”
He fell to where his knees would be if he had a physical form. His robe splayed out on the ground below him.
Aaermont laid a hand on the place where Ratwana’s shoulder would be, pressing against the robe's fabric.
“I am so very sorry, my friend.”
In front of the two men were the remains of Miasmara, the once proud kingdom of the Magiri. Nearly every one of its intricate and magical structures was destroyed. Even the Gizark, the pyramid that once held all the magic of the Magiri people, was crumbling in the distance; its glow had long since been snuffed out. There was no doubt in Ratwana’s mind.
The Magiri were gone and had been for a very long time…
Finton Merrybrook awoke from his slumber gasping for air. He climbed out of bed and ran to his window. He threw it open and sighed as he saw the Valley of Skar before him. The gnarled trees of Avondale were also exactly as he remembered them.
He breathed a sigh of relief. It was only a dream. A vivid dream, but a dream nonetheless. While he had never met Ratwana or his faithful companion, Aaermont, Finton did fear the prison they had come from.
After all, it had been originally designed to capture a Titan.
Catching his breath, Finton headed to the kitchen to make some tea. He heard a knock on the door and paused. He wasn’t expecting company.
He walked over to the back door of his humble abode and pulled it open. An elven woman with golden hair stepped inside.
“Ah, Sarai, once again, you’ve managed to surprise me. That’s not easy to do,” Finton said.
“Sorry, I just finished gathering the information you wanted.”
She set down her wooden staff. An intricately carved piece with a metal sphere fastened to the top. The treasure of the Elven people. The Chronoscepter.
She then turned and pulled a stack of parchment from the leather bag at her side. She tossed the papers onto Finton’s table, spreading them out so he could see them. Each one had a portrait drawn on one side and text written in ink on the other.
“Impressive work! Did you draw these portraits yourself?” Finton asked.
Sarai shook her head. “No, Kenny did.”
Finton shot a look back at Sarai, his face painted with bewilderment. “You mean to tell me that young Kennadara did these? But she was merely drawing crude figures last I saw her!”
Sarai shrugged. “What can I say? She’s been practicing. You yourself said she would make a good artist.”
Finton picked up one of the parchments and stared at the picture drawn upon it. It was a Tallion man. One of the horns protruding from his head was broken, but the other curled around the top, sitting upon a rich wave of shoulder-length hair.
Finton flipped the page over. “Yeldarb? That’s an odd name. Hard to believe you managed to get information on a Tallion man. I was told they had gone into hiding and didn’t like guests.”
“Not just one,” Sarai said, picking up another of the parchments, “I got word of a second one. There are other strange folks in there, too; some of them are of races unknown to me. It’s quite the crew you have here,” Sarai said.
Finton nodded as he scanned the full scope of the portraits on his table.
“What will you call this band of adventurers?” Sarai asked.
Finton clapped his hands together and struck a dramatic pose. “They are no mere adventurers! These will be the saviors of the realm! The voice of the downtrodden! The breaker of chains and the slayer of ancient beasts!”
He picked up the parchments and spread them out in his hands like a deck of cards.
“Say hello to the Order of the Pawn!”
The Story Continues in “The Order of the Pawn.”
Stay tuned for new stories that introduce the seven members of this renowned order, leading up to the first ever series set in D’veen!
D’veen is also a collaborative universe! To discover the true fate of the Magiri, read the Veil Trilogy from T.P. Kaaos:
Stay tuned to learn more about how you too can contribute to the realm…
Thanks for Reading! Here’s Your Musical Pairing
Listen to this after reading, like pairing a glass of wine with dessert.
Love this! Nothing like an utterly unnecessary amount of chaos, a few shattered laws of reality, and an unstoppable duo to make a prison break interesting.
I am epically excited for The Order of the Pawn!!!
Thank you for the inclusion of my D'Veen tales!
This is amazing! The humor! The spells! The mystery!
Great job!!