Chapter Seven
The dwarf neighbour fetched some thick rope from her house and before long Neekerba was strapped to a tree. Her bonds were strong enough to stop even her from breaking free…they hoped.
Valayun and Pike had moved Alfor onto the ogress' bed and were now joining in the interrogation.
Jiro held up the vial of liquid Pike had located. "Can you tell me what's in here?"
The woman scowled but didn't answer.
Jiro then began looking through the books with Pike and Valayun. Inside were all kinds of spells and potion recipes. Though they were written in a language that was difficult to understand and had few illustrations, something about them emanated darkness.
"I'm no expert on sorcery, but these do not look like my father's books," observed Valayun, "Once he awakens, he will need to take a look at them. There is terrible magic in these books – I can sense it in everything that came from the bag!"
Pike fingered the crystals. Though they mostly looked the same as any other kind used by practitioners of magic, something about them made him feel uneasy. He put them down, fearing some dark force might leap from them to seal his doom.
Valayun studied the contents in the containers. All of them gave her a vile feeling, deep in her mind and soul. She was sickened to think what black deeds each concoction was capable of. She took hold of the small vial and felt the worst feeling out of all of them coming from it. This had to be the potion that made Afen sick. Only something that was being used to kill an innocent could have such an evil sensation of magic attached to it.
"How did she administer this mixture to Afendorn?" she wondered out loud.
"Probably dropped some in 'is porridge or somethin'," suggested the neighbour, "It's enough to chill you to the bone, thinkin' 'ow someone like 'er could've snuck round 'is place..."
"But how did she get to his house?" asked Pike, "Can her staff fly like Block's?"
"It's possible," responded Jiro. He picked up the item, which was sat beside him. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over it, trying to see if he could sense any power. "This staff is magic, all right," he concluded, opening his eyes. "It looks like we have all the evidence we need to prosecute her." Still, a pang of guilt remained in his heart. He turned to his roguish friend, who was now fiddling with some grass blades. "I'm sorry about earlier, Pike."
The cat-boy's ears pricked up.
"As a Paladin, I'm bound to put rules and regulations first, rather than trusting my instincts…but it was thanks to your instincts that we were able to find these items. Thank you, Pike, for not giving up."
Pike sat up and smiled in response. Jiro offered him his hand, which he shook.
"No problem," responded the ex-thief.
Valayun was happy for them, but something continued to plague her mind. "Something I still don't understand is how Neekerba found Block and Meklavar's cottage. My father suggested she might have an amulet like the one he uses, but we haven't found one amongst her things."
Pike looked at the old woman. Was it possible she did have a talisman but was hiding it someplace else? He'd looked all around her house but had only found the bottle of medicine. Where else could she be hiding it…?
Suddenly, he jumped up and ran over to her. The ogress gave him a disgusted expression but he didn't let it deter him. When he'd tackled her during the fight, he'd sensed something upon her…a hint of magic. He hadn't really had a chance to think where it might be coming from, what with the intensity of the situation. Lots of people carried charms in their pockets or had them sewn into their clothes, so it made perfect sense that she would hide her talisman in a similar place. He carefully slipped his hand behind her neck, sensing that there was something enchanted hanging around it, but concealed beneath her ragged clothes. He felt a metal chain and slowly pulled it over the woman's head…
"…we have now!" he cried triumphantly, holding up the amulet for everyone to see.
…
After another hour, Alfor began to stir. He was accustomed to waking up in unfamiliar places, but it still took a while to register just how he'd ended up where he was. He must have been laid down in the ogress' house after being hit with the tranquiliser arrow. He slowly sat up, trying to recount what had happened before he'd been struck unconscious. He remembered the battle…the bag that had fallen off the roof…what was inside…
Quickly, he got off the bed and made his way to the exit. Outside, Jiro, Valayun, Pike and the dwarf neighbour were sat in a circle around the little pile of sorcery equipment, the captured ogress not far away. They were engaged in a discussion with each other, but immediately noticed when Alfor emerged from the hovel.
"Father!" cried Valayun, getting to her feet, "We need you to analyse this. I believe it may be the potion Neekerba used to make Afen ill."
She handed him the vial of dark liquid. Alfor could feel the wicked power radiating from it as it touched his hand. "I haven't seen anything like this in a long time…" he thought aloud, holding it up between his thumb and forefinger to get a closer look.
Pike rose up as well, holding open one of Neekerba's spell books. "So, what do you make of THIS?" He held it above his head, pages facing downwards, and twisted it around, pretending to try to read it. "We can't make head or tail of it!"
He then handed the tome to the sorcerer. Alfor looked carefully through the pages and his eyes began to widen. "I've never seen a book filled with such evil magic before. I don't even know where she could have got this from!" Perhaps she had met and bargained with a powerful dark sorcerer, even though it was unlikely they'd part with such an item. Still, the fact that her son had been called a "master thief" made him wonder just where Terrig had learned his skills from…
He decided to have a thorough look through both volumes. It was possible he might find the recipe used to craft the potion somewhere inside.
Even so, it was most likely going to take a long while before he was anywhere near crafting an antidote. His thoughts turned to Afen. It had been many hours since they'd left his house to embark on their quest and they had no way of knowing what state he was in. Was the little boy even still alive or had their valiant efforts been in vain…?
…
Block and Meklavar had eaten a small supper of some cabbage, potatoes and chicken, offering some to Afen, but he refused. They ended up leaving most of their food, barely able to swallow anything.
They had watched over the toddler all day and barely heard him say a word, but a short while after dinner, something changed.
"Mom?" he whispered, opening his eyes.
"I'm here," whispered the dwarf, taking hold of his hand, "What is it, little guy?"
The child muttered something barely comprehensible about a bright light, seemingly rather agitated.
"He must be hallucinating," Meklavar whispered to her husband. It had happened to him a couple of times before during his high fever.
"Meklavar…" Block said solemnly. He put a hand on her shoulder. His wife turned to see he had tears in his eyes. He swallowed. "He's not hallucinating."
Meklavar closed her eyes and bit her lip, refusing to cry in front of her son. She turned back to him and drew her face near his, opening her eyes. "It's OK, little guy," she said softly, "You can let go now. Your Dad and I are right beside you."
She smiled wistfully and planted a kiss on his forehead. Once she'd finished, Block leaned over and kissed him as well.
"Raising you was our greatest quest," said Block, a tear trickling down his cheek.
He and his wife sat back and waited. Their little son closed his eyes again and lay still. His breaths grew shorter and shorter until…they were no more.
After about a minute, Block took hold of Afen's wrist and pressed firmly. He waited several seconds before retracting his hand.
"He's gone."
Meklavar fell upon her son's lifeless body and began to cry. Block placed a hand on her back. Tears were streaming down his own face. After about a minute, Meklavar sat up and Block wrapped his arms around her. The pair embraced, trying so hard to comfort each other, and they were silent for a while.
Through their minds flashed images. Their friends returning back from their quest victoriously, with the antidote, only to find there was no-one to use it upon. A funeral being held in their local chapel, all their friends and relatives surrounding a tiny wooden coffin and weeping. A small gravestone in the churchyard, besides which they would place a bouquet of green and yellow flowers. "How are you doing, little guy?" Meklavar would ask him, "I sure hope our ancestors are treating you well up there. We miss you every day, our brave little warrior…" "Raising you was our greatest quest," Block would reiterate, "I just sure wish it could have been longer…"
The hearth in their cottage, which they would sit in front of conversing as they always did after dinner, but now their home seemed conspicuously empty. Their bedroom, where they would continue to share intimacy, probably managing to conceive again, only to lose pregnancy after pregnancy, their hopes of having another child diminishing every time. The hearth again, only this time they were no longer a young couple in their early twenties – they had grown old together, still so happy to be married but yet so deeply sad. Block's kind face was wrinkled and his once thick, black hair was grey and balding. He still looked upon his wife with such fondness though, thinking she was every bit as beautiful as she was the day they were married. Her hair had also gone grey and was once again cut short – a rather edgy style for even older women by their society's standards. She was wearing a pair of round, oversized reading spectacles and had a dark green shawl wrapped around her shoulders to keep her skinny body warm. Despite her "old granny" appearance, she had an action-ready grin upon her face. Meklavar was still every bit as much a badass warrior on the inside, even though her body had grown frail and she struggled to walk without a cane (partly as a result of exerting her body so much when she was younger), which could double as a weapon were she to need one. Despite their love and friendship being as strong as ever, the emptiness of their house seemed even greater. In front of them should be their children, grandchildren, even great-grandchildren…but alas, there were none. Afendorn's brief life seemed even shorter now they'd seen so many years, yet they never forgot about him – the one precious child they ever had the opportunity to raise. Though the pair smiled, so grateful to still have each other's company, there was an undeniable loneliness in the air…
"He lived for just two and a half decaphoebs…" said Meklavar in the present, her face buried upon her husband's bosom, "And I'm sure grateful for every day we had with him. I can't believe he's dead…" The last word choked her up so badly she couldn't speak.
"I've known you for over seven decaphoebs now," responded Block, "And I've cherished every day with you. All those decaphoebs ago, I never knew that one day I'd see you become a mother – much less the mother of my son." He was struck with strong emotions and began to sob loudly. Meklavar had never heard him do this before.
After another short silence, the young warrior said, "Our fourth anniversary is in just two phoebs now."
"I don't know if I'll be in the mood for celebrating this decaphoeb…"
It then occurred to Block that all the things that would happen to them in future – big events like birthdays and anniversaries and weddings and christenings, as well as more mundane things like doing the laundry, making the dinner and wrestling before bedtime – would be done without him. It was astonishing to think that only a few years ago, he hadn't even existed, yet in his short lifetime, he'd become such an integral part of their lives. They'd made so many plans for him. He'd become close with all their friends and family members. Block and Meklavar's heart ached to imagine the reactions of their families when they told them the tragic news. Currently, none of them even knew that Afen had fallen ill. They were getting about on their daily lives, blissfully unaware of what had happened. Aeryn was probably singing lullabies to his baby daughter this very moment.
On a normal night, Block and Meklavar would have been serenading their own child to sleep. A sleep that would only be temporary. A sleep that he would arise from in the morning. It pained them to remember how much they'd taken for granted in the past. Now their beautiful son lay prostrate and unmoving, a lifeless shell, lost to a deep sleep from which he'd never awaken…
…
Jiro and the dwarf neighbour had fetched the local beadle to take Neekerba into custody, showing him some of the evidence that had been found. Meanwhile, Alfor began trying to concoct an antidote for Afen's illness…which was easier said than done, to say the least. First, he had to work out what exactly was in the vial. Considering that forensic science was very primitive in his universe, he had to rely on his strong connection with magic. He held the vial in one hand and flicked through each spell book with his other, trying to sense which page contained the recipe for what was inside.
It took a while but eventually he found the one. It wasn't hard to tell it was the potion in the vial – the page emitted the same unmistakable dark feeling. Next, he had to get the ingredients for the medicine. That was a little more complicated than it might sound as there wasn't actually an antidote for the illness written in the tome, but Alfor was an extremely knowledgeable sorcerer and managed to work out just what would be in it. He, Valayun and Pike ventured off to various dealers to collect what he needed. Thankfully, some of the ingredients were things he already had at hand (such as a toadstool, much to Pike's satisfaction) and within two hours he'd finished making the potion, having "borrowed" Neekerba's cauldron to heat it up.
His team-mates were now all gathered and they watched as he poured the life-saving mixture into a vial of its own. The liquid inside of it was a murky green – not the most pleasant colour, but at least the magic it emanated had a neutral feeling. Now that they had what they'd come for, it was time to set off.
"Thank you for all your help." Jiro shook the dwarf neighbour's hand. "Mrs-? I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"Aeryndal," responded the woman.
"Aeryndal?" piped up Pike, "That's the name of Meklavar's brother!"
"I 'ear it can be a fella's name as well!" She shook Pike's hand next and gave him a hug. "Please send this Meklavar my love. It sounds like she and 'er 'usband could do with it after all me neighbour put 'em through. I'd like to see 'er rot in goal after what she did to their little'un."
Valayun gave her a cuddle as well and Alfor shook her hand, before they sat on the staff and began their long journey back, their stomachs empty after not having had the chance to eat dinner. It was hours before they reached Block and Meklavar's house and the sun started to go down on the way. By the time they'd arrived back at the cottage, it was night-time.
Holding up the precious vial of medicine in one hand, Alfor knocked on their door with the other. There was excitement as it began to open. Finally they could tell the wondrous news to their friends – their son was going to live!
However, as soon as it opened, they began to feel the mood change. Block answered the door and the very sight of his grave face, visible bags under his eyes, was enough to tell them something was wrong.
He caught sight of the vial and got a lump in his throat. "You're too late…" He swallowed. "Afen passed away a couple vargas ago." He closed his eyes forlornly.
Valayun gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. Pike looked aghast. After all they'd been through, narrowly avoiding never finding out whether or not the ogress was responsible for Afen's illness… NO. It couldn't be! It just couldn't be!
Jiro bowed his head and put a fist to his heart, a sign of mourning. He'd done this same pose many a time at two separate graveyards far away from Block and Meklavar's home. In a corner of the first garden was a section dedicated to soldiers' graves. Amongst them lay the remains of Merzak, whom he visited whenever he could to pay his respects. He would sometimes pick wildflowers and place them beside his headstone. In the second garden, since his brother Shiro had been completely destroyed without leaving even any ashes, his name was carved on a memorial, which he would also place flowers by. He would often talk to his crush and his twin, telling him about the missions he'd accomplished and the friends he'd made, but at some point he'd always end up weeping. He went at an hour where normally no one else was there, so he didn't have to be seen.
It was hard enough knowing he was going to live the rest of his life without Merzak or Shiro or Shiro's mentor D'Janna…but now he knew he would be visiting yet another graveyard, this time not all that far from where his friends lived. This one would be the final resting place of their firstborn child, Afendorn. Though it pained him that Merzak and Shiro had been snatched from the world so prematurely, both of them had been adult men. Afen had lived such a brief life and for that reason, perhaps his loss would be even harder for everyone to bear.
Alfor lowered the vial. "May we see him?" he petitioned.
Block invited them in and they went up to Afendorn's candlelit room. Meklavar was sat beside the end of the bed, resting her head on the mattress. Block went over and gently shook her.
"Baby, they're here."
Meklavar opened her eyes, having dozed off some time ago. She spotted her friends in the doorway of the bedroom. A pang of sorrow hit her when she remembered why they were here.
She rubbed her eyes and slowly got up. "Hey, guys."
She turned to face the bed and had to fight off tears. Block placed a hand on her shoulder as their friends stepped into the room.
What they saw came to haunt the deepest parts of their minds. Upon the bed lay the body of Afendorn, motionless and pristine. He was still wearing the clothes they'd seen him in earlier. Unlike back then, when he'd been suffering from a high fever and nausea, now his face was its regular colour and he was longer in any pain.
Pike came over to the bed and gently took hold of the little boy's hand. It had gone cold and the sensation deeply disturbed him. Afen was gone! He was really gone. Tears fell out of both his eyes and he wiped them away with his sleeve. Like Meklavar, he wasn't prone to showing emotions unless they were very strong, but this was by far the saddest thing he'd ever experienced in his life. Block, Meklavar, Jiro and Valayun (who was visibly upset herself) gave him a cuddle to comfort him.
"You were a great uncle, Pike," said Block, "The best uncle our son could have ever had."
Though the sight was unfamiliar to Pike and Jiro, Valayun and Alfor felt an immense surge in déjà vu. This certainly wasn't the first time they'd seen a freshly dead body. Through their minds flashed images, triggered by the sight of the lifeless Afen. A beautiful woman – Alfor's wife and Valayun's mother – lying upon her and Alfor's bed; her long, fluffy white hair billowing around her. A young Valayun sinking her face upon the duvet and weeping inconsolably. Alfor placing a hand on her shoulder and mourning with her. The scene was so similar it almost felt as though history was repeating itself.
Block, Meklavar, Jiro and Valayun let go of Pike.
"Thank you," said Block to everyone, "You guys really tried to save him. You did all you could, but I guess he just went too soon…" He started to tear up again, when suddenly he remembered something. "Wait…who was it that you got the antidote from? I kind of forgot to ask…"
Alfor once again held up the vial. "We visited all the names on the list, with the exception of the ogre Terrig. It turns out he died in prison after catching the flu, which developed into a more serious illness due to the poor conditions."
"Hang on…did you say the flu?" He and Meklavar looked chilled, starting to put two and two together.
"Indeed, he caught it from the pair of you before his imprisonment. His mother was angered by his death and hatched a plan for revenge. We had her taken into custody by the local authorities and she will be tried for using sorcery with malicious intent."
Block and Meklavar turned to look at their deceased son, in even more shock now they knew who was responsible for his death.
"How did she make him sick?" asked Meklavar, pretty bewildered.
"We don't know for certain, but our theory is that she found out where you live using an amulet like my own and put some of the potion into his food. Her intention must have been not to kill either of you two, but rather to make you suffer the same fate as her."
Block's eyes widened and he put a hand over his mouth, suddenly realising something.
"Meklavar?" he asked, "You don't suppose she could have…" He began to cry again.
His wife knew what he was getting at. "I honestly have no idea, Block." She turned to her friends. "Before Afen got ill, Block and I were trying to get pregnant again. We managed two or three times, but each time I lost the baby. Could she have poisoned me?" Pike, Jiro and Valayun were rather taken aback. This was the first they had heard of the secret trials the couple were going through.
Alfor considered this for a moment. "It's possible, but without proof we'll never know."
Without proof we'll never know. Without proof we'll never know. Those words echoed in his head, coupled with flashbacks from years before. His wife struggling through her sickness, despite the medicine he administered to her. Her dead body, lying upon their bed. The funeral ceremony that had been held at the local cemetery. The many nights he'd stayed up late, studying his books on sorcery, desperately trying to find out just what was the illness that had taken her from him. The times he'd eventually gone to bed, watering his pillow as he saw how empty it was without his beloved Melenor. The gaols he'd visited, questioning any possible suspects he thought might have wanted to harm her. Her illness had not been a normal one, he determined. It had to have been created through sorcery – but by whom? He'd talked about it with many older, more seasoned sorcerers, but their responses could be summed down to one sentence: "Without proof we'll never know…"
It was a mystery he'd never solved. He'd eventually had to give up trying to solve it, to be fair on Valayun. He'd never told her about his theory of how her mother died. She was such a sweet, innocent child and he did not want to expose her to any more darkness than she'd already experienced. In fact, she still didn't know now. Despite his great pain and desire for justice, he chose to let it go. He'd dedicated himself to raising Valayun, knowing it would be what his wife would have wanted.
She would be so proud of the young woman their daughter had grown into – gentle and feminine, yet fiercely independent and a skilled fighter. Just like her.
He'd worked so hard to provide for her over the years, becoming increasingly more skilled in his craft. Something in particular he'd learned a long time ago had been nagging him for a while now and he knew he could not keep it a secret a moment longer…
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," said Valayun, a hand to her lips. She gave Meklavar another cuddle. "Even if it was just a natural loss each time, it must have been so hard on the both of you. I can't imagine what it must be like to lose a child…let alone three or four."
"Block? Meklavar?" Alfor interrupted. Valayun let go of her dwarf friend. "I might…have something to suggest. I am uncertain whether or not it will work, as your son has been dead for several vargas, but…" He paused, wondering if it was wrong to get their hopes up. Already their curiosity appeared to have been peaked, as all eyes were now upon him. It was too late to change his mind now…
He looked the couple in the eye. "…I might be able to bring him back."
