The opposing commands from his two different masters hit the mind of Laronius almost simultaneously. It was an extremely unpleasant experience.
First came the message from Vdekshi, issued through the red jewel set in the ring on his right hand. “Laronius, I will have guests arriving here shortly. You are ordered to go to the caverns immediately and stay underground as long as they are here. You are absolutely forbidden to harm them or impede their journey here in any way, directly or indirectly. Don’t bother replying with your usual mocking flattery, and in fact do not contact me at all until I have called for you. You are ordered to use this time to prepare a full an honest report for me regarding your shameful and embarrassing treatment of my honored guest, Shon. That is all.”
The command came so forcefully and directly that Laronius felt as if his hand would burn to ashes that moment if he did not obey immediately. At once, he began moving at top speed down to the caverns. That is, until the second command came, overwhelming his senses with a whirlwind of dizziness and nausea.
“Laronius, come here at once,” hissed the voice of his other master. “The world has gone mad and all of our careful plans are about to be upturned this very night unless you come to me this instant. The time has finally come for you to reveal your true loyalties, and for me to grant your ultimate reward. To me!!”
Laronius hung in the air, curled into a ball, spinning and somersaulting wildly as his body tried in vain to obey both masters at once. The cloth tied over his freakish mortal eye fell away, and the blurred scene that resulted caused the disfigured vampire to heave and wretch. Of course nothing came up. His stomach was empty. Everything about him was empty. His mouth, his veins, his nose and throat. Every orifice that mortals so disgustingly took for granted as containing moisture and relief was dry and empty for him.
As the realization sank deep into Laronius that there would be no relief or escape from his predicament (for as a vampire he could not even faint or lose consciousness) he felt a tear fall from his one hideously mortal eye.
***
Mutt scurried away from the tunnels of the dungeon as quickly as the rat body he inhabited would carry him. And for once, it truly was carrying him. He wasn’t guiding it, steering it, or bullying it into giving in to his demands. All he did was share one message with the rat mind that he shared a body with. “Danger! Flee!” he had said to it, and then retreated inward as far as he could, and let the rat brain take care of the rest.
While Mutt didn’t like forfeiting total control of the commandeered body back to the mind and soul of the rat he had usurped it from, the sacrifice seemed to be having the effect he had hoped. As his human spirit retreated further and further inward, he gained some measure of protection from the commands of his masters. He could, at least for a little while, hide from them.
Mutt was aware that his masters were both calling out to him with their magic, and trying their best to order forceful commands. He could hear them as if from a great distance, but he was insulated enough that he could avoid hearing any specific commands. The mind and soul of the rat, meanwhile, were completely immune to the words of his masters, and under no obligation to obey any of them. After all, the rat had made no bargains and agreed to no deals. It was a victim only, and beholden to no one.
Mutt’s mind shuddered at that last thought, retreating further as all of his old arguments and justifications for his abuse against his unwilling partner seemed to fall away. “I’ll figure out how to live with myself tomorrow,” Mutt told himself. “Tonight the only thing that matters is staying hidden and letting the rat get us as far from here as possible.”
“Good plan,” said Shon, “you should stick to that.” Despite being able to hide from his masters and everyone else, the weak young wizard could somehow still find Mutt in his hiding place and send his voice into Mutt’s mind to harass him, even while his pale skinny body was far away and walking with his two masters.
“Hey, watch who you’re calling weak,” Shon scolded. “I could step on you when you’re that size, you know.” Mutt grumbled, but tried to control his thoughts in order to avoid giving Shon any additional information he could use against him. “Look, we had a deal, and I’m going to keep my end of the bargain. You told me what I needed to know about Gravine and everything going on in this creepy fortress, and you helped me find Vdekshi so I could call out to him with my mind and get him down there before things got worse. In exchange, I won’t rat you out to your masters while you escape. And as a bonus, I won’t even tell Treshigan about that weird, obsessive crush you have on her.”
Mutt bristled at the distasteful rat pun, but it was the comment about Treshigan that made him so furious that he nearly wrestled control back from the rat mind to go upstairs and bite the smug little wizard’s throat. But when he tried, the rat mind shrieked back at him, and he relented. Revenge against Shon would wait for another day. All that mattered tonight was escape. Mutt hunkered his mind down like a rodent preparing to hibernate, and continued to let the rat do all the walking.
***
Treshigan was absolutely fed up with everyone thinking the only person who didn’t deserve a say in her life was herself.
Decades ago when she was still naturally young and beautiful, she was desired by every eligible man for miles around. And some ineligible. But it wasn’t just her beauty that they desired. They wanted to mold her and shape her into what they wanted her to be. A lady for a lord. A merchandise model for a merchant. A faithful wife for a farmer. And for most of them, she had been happy to play whatever part they had wanted. Except for the poor farmer, of course.
After her youth and beauty had all been spent, the rest of the world expected her to become what they believed she was, a bitter old spinster who would finally learn the error of her wicked ways and resign herself to the sad fate she had earned for herself. And after she had come to Vdekshi’s fortress and begged him to make her a deal and restore her youth in exchange for her service, he had expected her to deliver. He had used ritual magic to separate her soul from her body, preserving her natural body to keep it from aging or dying from hunger or thirst. Meanwhile, he placed her soul in the portrait of a young and wild-looking woman, then used his magic to give that portrait a physical body.
The portrait of the young woman was one of dozens that had been stolen by Vdekshi’s zombies during a raid on a nearby town. Vdekshi didn’t care that the young woman was covered with unsightly piercings and tattoos. He didn’t care how she would appear at all. He only chose that portrait because he believed the subject looked like a witch with powerful magic and conviction in her eyes, and that was what Vdekshi wanted Treshigan to become.
So that’s what Treshigan became. Treshigan the witch.
She learned to tap into the magic that flowed from the jewelry and trinkets that Vdekshi entrusted to her. Though the source of the magic itself was a mystery to her, she learned not to question from what dark well Vdekshi drew this seemingly limitless supply of power. She didn’t need to know where it came from. She only needed to know how to use it, and she learned that quickly.
As time went on, Vdekshi became more and more conservative in the way his magic was spent. He tried to use less himself, and he gave less to his servants. At one point he asked Treshigan how long she thought she would last if he stopped supplying her with the magic that kept her original body in a state of suspension, and her second body in a state of lively activity. She had feigned indifference and answered Vdekshi with a short and haughty reply about how little she thought about such things, but the question had left her deeply shaken.
Ever since then, Treshigan had been far more proactive in proving herself a valuable and profitable servant to Vdekshi. She became more adept at using cunning and subtlety to succeed in the tasks she was assigned, rather than raw magical power. She had even recruited two other mortal women who were willing to enter into the same contract she had with Vdekshi so she could delegate and pass along the blame when anything went wrong. She called them her “sisters” when she recruited them, but there was little sisterhood between them. The competition and animosity between them was fierce, and these days they avoided each other as much as possible.
And yet, she and her sisters had managed to work together once again just the night before. As unbelievable as it was, they had actually agreed to each do their part willingly, and the mission had been a success. Treshigan had distracted that blonde idiot Seth long enough that her sisters were able to distract the other two as well. And in the end, it had given Laronius the opening he needed to take that meddlesome wizard Shon as a prisoner.
Treshigan was glad that she hadn’t been assigned to deal with Shon or Tarun, especially since her guise wouldn’t work on them after they had already seen through her before. But her encounter with Seth had been unsetting in its own way. Treshigan wasn’t sure if it was the innocent expression on his face or the way he held himself, but there was something about him that had been far too reminiscent of that foolish young farmer that had expressed his love to her all those years ago.
Still, what mattered most was that she had done her job, and miraculously her sisters had done theirs too. Treshigan didn’t know what Gravine had promised them in order to get them to cooperate, and frankly she didn’t care. She just knew what he had offered her, and that she was now holding his payment in her hand.
There, gleaming in the palm of her hand with a spectral light, was the ring that idiot farmer had given her as a token of his loyalty to her so many years before. The glow could only be seen by one who knew how to look beyond natural light for the radiance of a magical aura, but for Treshigan it shone like a beacon. Though it seemed impossible, Gravine had somehow delivered on his promise to Treshigan that in just one night he would gift her with more power than Vdekshi had eked out over decades in his service. And he would give her freedom.
“Well, more freedom than you have now,” the imprisoned schemer had promised. “From sunup until sundown, you will be free to do whatever you choose, and no one will have any power to command you. Not me, nor my servants. And certainly not that stingy oaf who’s been wasting a lifetime’s worth of your skills.”
“But when the sun is down,” Gravine had continued, “you will answer my call and do as I say. And for every show of obedience and job well done, I shall increase your power more than you can possibly imagine.” Treshigan had found the last line to be rather presumptuous. After all, she could imagine a lot.
And indeed her imagination was already running wild thinking of all the things she would do and pleasures she would once again enjoy once she had finished securing her freedom. For even if her freedom only lasted while the sun was shining, she reasoned that a life of half freedom was better than a life with no freedom at all. She nodded to herself as she walked, reminding herself of that reassuring thought as she walked into the room that housed her withered and wrinkled first body.
No, not her “first body,” she thought to herself resolutely. Now it would once again, finally, simply be “her body.” Rather than continue this hollow existence living through an animated portrait image, Gravine had promised her that once she had placed the ring he empowered upon the hand of her body, she would be whole again. She would be young, she would be beautiful, she would be powerful, and she would be alive.
Treshigan felt a shiver of excitement up her sternum at the thought of being alive once again. She walked right over to the body of the old woman, picked up her left hand, and slid the ring on the finger next to her pinky. She watched the ring pulse and glow with its spectral light, and then everything went dark.
***
When Treshigan opened her eyes, she was laying on a soft bed. She was wearing a lovely gown, and was adorned all over with various pieces of jewelry she had collected over the years. On her left had was a ring that sparkled as if it was covered with the brightest diamonds, although it was made of simple iron. By the side of her bed was a small pile of smoldering ash.
As she moved to arise from the bed, she was amazed at how graceful and easy every movement was. This was not the awkward and foreign body of Treshigan the witch. She no longer felt like an intruder in her own body. This was vibrant and lively body of Treshigan the woman, back when she had been young and beautiful and confident. No, not “had been,” but “now was.”
Treshigan moved elegantly to the mirror hanging on the wall of the room, and admired herself with gasps of elation and tears of joy. She was herself again. She was young. She was beautiful. She was strong. She was alive. She was free.
She stood basking in the glory of her new reality for so long that she didn’t even notice her room becoming gradually dimmer until the sun had nearly set. She glanced over at the setting sun defiantly, then back to her own reflection in the mirror.
“Whatever Gravine has planned for me, it’s worth it,” she said aloud to herself. “This is worth it, and I’m ready for whatever the night may bring. I’m stronger than any task he can throw at me, and I’ll show him he hasn’t even seen the half of what I can do.”
The words buoyed her up, and she squared her shoulders and puffed up her chest with a deep breath as the sun went down over the horizon. But the moment that the sun was out of sight, that breath turned icy cold in her lungs.
Strange shadows danced across her vision and her head became dizzy. For a moment she feared that she would lose her balance and fall, but then realized that her feet were not touching the floor anyway. She was floating. Everything about her was weightless. Her body hung in the air. Her hair and clothing slowly floated about her in any direction, as if she was underwater. Even the loose jewelry she wore drifted hauntingly around her body, heedless of the invisible tethers that held down everything in the world. Everything in the mortal world, that was.
Treshigan looked down at her hands and found that they had become grayish white, and seemed to glow with the dim radiance of the moon. They had also become thin and frail, but not with wrinkles and age as they had been before. Now they clung tightly to the bones inside, making them appear like little more than gloves on a skeleton.
With great effort, Treshigan managed to concentrate and will her floating body to turn back to the mirror to her left. As soon as the mirror was back in her sight, she wished she had simply let herself drift. The gown she was wearing now appeared tattered and bleached of all color. The jewelry she wore was all cracked, faded, and dotted with rust and decay. And the face that stared back at her was far more terrifying than the witch had ever been. Her cheeks were gaunt and drawn, her hair thin and wispy, her expression was a permanent mixture of terror and fury, and her eyes were sunken and black.
She had become Treshigan the banshee. And as she realized this, she exhaled the icy cold breath inside of her, and released a howling cry that could be heard for miles around.
Enemies of Creed 