A World of Walls

"When are you going to tell me why we've left so suddenly?" Ciara was growing anxious, and the cramped quarters of their cabin in the river boat did nothing to allay her misgivings. Kyner had been poring over old maps he had retrieved from his satchel, he still wore the pieces of armor he had taken from his chest at Keep Noatun and a pair of spectacles donned his brow.

Kyner set the map down and took off his spectacles. "You do deserve an explanation, don't you?" Kyner laughed faintly, mirthlessly, "the world is changing, and I fear Keep Noatun is no longer safe for us."

"What do you mean?" asked Ciara, growing flustered, "what has changed?"

Kyner opened his mouth to answer when the river boat rocked violently, scattering Kyner's maps and the contents of both their satchels.

"What was that?" asked Ciara.

"A collision," said Kyner as he took his weapons belt and made for the cabin's exit fastening the belt on as he went, "take your sword and follow me."

Ciara shook her head as she snatched up Aitana and a cloak, noticing only then that Kyner had left his behind.

Ciara stepped onto the deck of the river boat. She saw Kyner standing with the captain of the river boat at the bow. The rain was still falling in torrents but that seemed not to have phased Kyner. When Ciara reached the bow she discovered what it was that the boat had collided into. The river had iced over right in front of them.

"I've never known anything like this to happen," said the captain, "the river shouldn't freeze for another two months."

"This is no natural occurrence," said Kyner, "Get your people off the deck."

"What the devil are you talking about?" asked the captain.

"Just do it." A volley of arrows rained down on the ship as Kyner said those words. Ciara was surprised enough that she didn't immediately notice that Kyner had leapt off the bow of the boat, in the direction the arrows had come from.

Kyner was glad that the ice did not give way as he landed heavily on it. Squinting, the old warrior could barely make out the forms of three cloaked archers through the descending rain. Kyner pulled his axe from his belt and ran forward to see the archers, there only appeared to be three of them, nocking their arrows for another volley.

Kyner hurled his axe at the archer who was farthest to the right and ran towards the next archer, drawing his long sword. The swift thud of metal against flesh and the sound of a collapsing body told Kyner the axe had struck its target. He heard the whoosh of the enchanted axe returning to him and held out his hand without turning or stopping. He closed his fingers around the axe's grip when he felt the handle strike his palm.

The archer Kyner was approaching dropped his bow to draw a narrow bladed scimitar. Kyner swung with his axe. The archer brought his sword up to parry but Kyner hooked the man's sword in the axe's notch, between blade and spike. With his opponent's weapon trapped, Kyner ran the archer through with his long sword. As Kyner withdrew his sword the archer sagged to his knees and his cowl fell backward, revealing pointed ears and a fair face. Elves.

Kyner faced the final archer as he loosed an arrow. The arrow glanced off Kyner's breastplate and the old warrior was glad he had not been turned his body toward the archer, or else the arrow would certainly have penetrated the breastplate. Kyner hurled his axe and it did not glance off the archer's studded leather jerkin. The axe returned to Kyner's grip drenched in gore, as if to prove that point.

Footsteps drew Kyner's attention and he whirled about to see Ciara had joined him. She held out the cloak Kyner had left behind. "I thought you might want this," she said. Kyner nodded and took the cloak, his tunic and trousers were already drenched from the continuous downpour.

Just then an explosion of sound and light further down the frozen river caught the attention of the two, plainly visible even through the thick curtain of rain. Four orbs of intense red light streaked from the darkness and Ciara felt that they were intent upon her. The sheer heat of those orbs threatened to overwhelm her and as they drew closer. Ciara felt her skin crawling, she thought of running but knew the effort would be vain.

Then, as the orbs were about to crash into her, they fizzled out and died and the girl remembered the amulet Kyner had given her. And I had thought they were only a precaution. What else will I prove to be wrong about?

Kyner was returning. His long sword was drawn and gored. "You're unhurt, Ciara?" he asked. Ciara nodded. "That was a mage, only a noviciate though. Of course, I wouldn't want to test that amulet of yours against a much better spellcaster." Kyner wiped the gore from his blade irreverently on one of the elves' cloaks. "Come on," he said, "without the mage to sustain it, this ice will soon lose its strength. It should be weak enough to break through in less than an hour. Besides, it's colder than Cania out here."

Again they sat in their small cabin. Kyner showed no signs that he had just been out in torrential rain, and without a cloak for most of the time. Ciara still shivered despite having worn her fur cloak since departing Noatun.

"Now," began Kyner as he sunk down onto his cot–the room had no chairs, "I was saying that Noatun is no longer safe. Those elves we just met are an example of what I'm talking about." Kyner leaned forward as he continued, "powerful warlords are rising and more will come."

"Why now?" asked Ciara.

"Because a special group of individuals is coming of age. Do you recall much of your histories?"

Ciara shook her head. Kyner was hoping to avoid a history lecture but it seemed inevitable.

Kyner sighed, "I'm going to tell this as briefly as possible. During what we now call the Time of Troubles all gods, save for Helm, were cast down by Ao. As you can imagine, this did nothing to quell differences between the gods. Many mortals even aspired to deification. One of these was Bhaal, an assassin. He and two others usurped power from the god Jergal." Kyner could see Ciara was rapidly losing attention and tried to speed up.

"Bhaal became the god of murder. He was killed afterwards by another mortal, Cyric. But he knew of his own impending death. In a bid to resurrect himself, Bhaal had a number of children by mortal mothers. You were one of them."

Ciara's countenance was one of shock mingled with disbelief.

"I know–" Kyner began but stopped, "no . . . I don't know how you feel." Ciara stared blankly ahead. "I'm sorry, Ciara," he said, "I'll give you some time. When you're ready, I'll tell you more."

Kyner had been gone for nearly twenty minutes when Ciara finally moved, a fast and certain movement. She practically ripped open her satchel and pulled out the paintings she had made, the ones that had been small enough to fit into the satchel anyhow.

For Ciara, painting had always been a source of liberation. But she rarely remembered the act of painting, and when she was finished she would always put away the paintings without really looking at them. Now she did, and the images chilled her.

Fiends with gaping maws weighed forward by their own claws devouring brave warriors and children. Paintings of scores of fiends tearing at the flesh of weak humans, elves, dwarves, and nearly any species that walked the world. Powerful Baalors smiting righteous paladins and twisting apart their agonized bodies. And...

Ciara stopped at the next painting. A devil more hellish than any of the others forcing itself upon women of dozens of races. Some looked like they may have been willing, some not. But all of them looked in pain.

Surely this is the stuff that would pollute the mind of a Daughter of Murder. Ciara shoved the small canvases back into her satchel and tied it shut.

And I felt nothing when she had watched Kyner kill the elves. Absolutely nothing. Isn't a person supposed to feel some kind of shock when she first sees death or bloodshed?

Hours later Ciara heard the rapping of fingers on the door. She slowly stood and walked to the door. As she had expected Kyner stood on the other side. But he seemed different. His eyes were brighter than before.

"Come," he said, "I want you to see this."

Ciara followed Kyner back onto the deck of the river boat. She stopped at the door, and suddenly felt small. Kyner took her hand and led her to the bow.

"All your years," he began, "I did a terrible thing to you thinking I was protecting you."

Ciara took in the broad vista of the landscape as the river boat breached the edge of the guardian forest that surrounded Keep Noatun. The far mountains capped with snow, the broadening river winding into the distance like a snake digging into the wide plains. It seemed that the rains had passed so that Ciara could take her first look at a world without walls of stone or wood or trees. Ciara was convinced this would be the most beautiful sight she would ever see.

"I kept you cooped up in that damnable castle. I had taken for granted all the things I have seen. Things I now want you to see." Kyner turned his gaze to Ciara.

"The world is dangerous," he said, "but there are always moments of beauty," the old man smiled.