A Ranger From Adamnar

Laren got Alana back to her quarters just after the skies opened up. Alana was so tired, she barely noticed she was wet. It was all Laren could do just to get Alana’s boots and sword belt off before she threw herself onto her bed. Laren managed to wrestle Alana’s wet shirt off after she was already asleep. After that she just pulled the blankets over her sleeping friend, taking some comfort in the fact that, at least Alana’s thin undershirt wasn’t wet. She then grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and settled herself down for the night.

The door to Lord Berol’s office flew open and slammed against the wall. The four lords within turned towards the door, weapons drawn, only to find the familiar form of Master Iliard Candril in its frame. “Where is Alana?” he asked harshly.

Shaken, Lord Berol said, “Master Iliard, please come in.”

Iliard didn’t move. “Van, I’m in no mood for polite conversation. The Heart has been howling in agony for nearly an hour. It took Terin Novar Arianna almost that long to find out why. Now, where is Alana?”

Lord Berol sheathed his swords. “She is in her quarters. Laren is with her. She is safe now.” Lord Berol glanced quickly at Waylan before he continued. “But, before you go to her, there is something you should know.”

Laren gasped in fear. There were chains around her wrists and ankles. She was naked and bound to a cold stone altar. She could feel hands grabbing her body, nails and other sharp objects raking her skin. She turned her head in time to see Alana turn and walk away. Laren tried to call out, but her voice made no sound. A shadow loomed over her and hands grabbed her head and forced her to look up at the leering face above her. Laren struggled to get away as the man lowered his body onto hers.

“Laren, wake up!”

Laren’s eyes flew open and she leapt out of the chair, her swords drawn. She had never seen a demon before, but she knew it for what it was the moment she saw it. It had skin as black as soot, with glowing red-orange eyes that glared at her with a mixture of hatred and contempt. The three inch talons of its jet-black hand rested lightly but obscenely on the thin material that covered Alana’s breast. Fear ripped through Laren. How could she fight something like that? “Get away from her,” she said hoarsely.

The thing chuckled. “This one is mine now,” it hissed at her. “Soon she will belong, body and soul, to my god.”

Laren took a step forward. “NO! Leave her alone.”

“Pitiful human, you have no power over me.” As if to demonstrate, it put its other hand on Alana’s forehead, causing her to cry out in her sleep.

Laren rushed at the demon, her swords raised. “Damn you! I said leave her alone!” Both of Laren’s swords passed right through the monster.

The demon threw back its head and laughed. “You cannot save her. She is Arnitath’s now.”

“Never. You’ll have to kill her first.”

“I think not,” it said with a smile. “She tried to take her own life. There is no turning back now. Very soon she will willingly spread her legs for our Priests and offer herself up on the great altar.” The demon moved his hands slowly over Alana’s body in a sickening caress. Alana struggled in her sleep, tossing and turning violently to get away from the horror of his touch.

“Damn it! NO!” Laren was near to tears. How could she fight this thing? It wasn’t even on their plane. Surely there must be a way. Other people fought demons. If only she could get onto the shadow plane…

Even as the thought entered her mind, Laren felt and saw the world around her change. Where before the demon had seemed out of focus, now it was crisp and sharp while the rest of the room was blurred. Laren didn’t wait to try to figure out what had happened. She swung her sword as hard she could at the demon’s neck. It only just ducked out of the way, but she still managed to slice deeply into its arm. With a look of surprise, it leapt off the bed, away from Alana’s sleeping form. Laren took a step back from the demon and back onto her own plane. She was breathing heavily from exertion and fear.

She wasn’t allowed time to calm herself, for just as she took another breath, a foul, acrid smell filled the room. The demon, once blurred, was now in horrifying focus. It bore down on her hissing, “You are mine, pathetic human. I will tear you to pieces.”

Chief Priest Bruny lifted his head from his prayers. “It cannot be,” he whispered. But the feeling grew stronger every moment. Whether he wanted it or not, it was happening right now. A demon of Arnitath was somewhere in the stronghold. “Blessed Asaeria, give me strength,” he prayed as he started to run toward the source of the evil energy.

Iliard couldn’t remember the last time he had been this angry. It had taken all of his energy to control the rage that tore through when Lord Berol told him what had been happening to Alana. The problem was, he wasn’t entirely sure his anger was justified. He was the one who had set these events in motion. His choices had, at least in part, set Alana on her current path. Now, as he followed Lord Berol across the rain drenched compound to Alana’s quarters, he wondered what he was going to say to his niece. He stopped in his tracks. “What the…?”

Lord Berol turned to him. “What is it?”

But Iliard broke into a run towards Alana’s building. “Demon!” he shouted over his shoulder.

Laren tasted blood in her mouth. She hadn’t even seen the demon’s hand move before it backhanded her across the face and sent her sprawling onto the floor. She quickly jumped up to defend herself, but a feeling of hopelessness filled her. There was no way she could win this fight alone. The demon came after her again, clawing at her with its talons. Laren dodged to her left so that it only grazed her right arm. Even that small wound burned. Laren clenched her teeth and raised her swords again and managed this time to put herself between Alana and the demon. A quick glance told her that Alana was now calmer, however, that glance cost her dearly. The demon took advantage of her moment of inattention and raked her side with its claws. Laren cried out in pain and stumbled back against the bed which caused Alana to stir.

Laren fought through the excruciating pain. Growling low in her throat, she pulled herself upright and rushed at the demon. With a flurry of blindingly fast sword strokes, she broke through its defenses and sliced into its muscular chest.

It was the demon’s howl of rage and pain that finally woke Alana from her deep sleep. She lay momentarily frozen in horror, as she watched both sets of the demon’s talons slice through Laren’s chest. Laren’s swords dropped to the floor, but before she could fall, he demon backhanded her again and sent her flying across the room.

Alana jumped out of her bed and reached for her sword belt, turning back just in time to see the demon drive his claws into Laren’s midsection as she lay motionless on the floor.

“Laren!” Alana screamed.

The demon turned toward her, Laren’s blood dripping from its talons, and grinned. “I will take great satisfaction in pleasuring myself on your body before I kill you.”

Alana turned to face it, her long sword in her right hand and the Novadi dagger in her left hand. “I think you will find I am not so easy to kill,” Alana replied hoarsely.

The demon chuckled. “We shall see.” It launched itself towards her. Alana’s sword flashed high and sliced into its forearm, while the Novadi dagger pierced the flesh of its broad thigh. The demon screamed in pain and fell back, its surprise evident.

Alana’s gazed flickered over to the widening pool of blood under Laren’s still form. A rattling gasp rose from her friend’s bloodless lips. “You cannot save her, little Priestess,” the demon sneered. “She will die and it will be your fault.”

Alana slowly brought her attention back to her enemy. “You’re right,” she said flatly. The demon’s grin widened. She tightened her grip on her weapons. “I am a Priestess. I am a High Priestess of the goddess Asaeria and you are my mortal enemy.” Her lips began to move in silent prayer and, much to her tormentor’s dismay, the amulet around her neck began to glow bright white. “Now,” she said quietly, “you will die.”

The demon snarled and ran at her. Alana raised her weapons, still whispering her prayer. She stood and waited until the last second, then lunged to her right. She knocked his left arm away with her long sword and allowed his other set of talons to graze her shoulder. She ignored the burning pain, shouted the last words of her prayer and plunged the now glowing Novadi dagger into the demon’s midsection. His scream of pain reverberated throughout the building and knocked Alana off her feet. By the time she got up again, he was gone.

Iliard, Lord Berol and Brother Bruny arrived in front of Alana’s door at the same time. There were five other Rangers standing in the hallway looking frightened. Inside the room, the sounds of battle went on. “We tried to open the door,” one of them said, “But it was locked.”

Iliard put his hand on the doorknob and tried to turn it. It turned easily and should have opened, but did not. He pushed on the door and still nothing. He finally tried to kick the door open, but is was if the door were made of iron. “I cannot open it,” he said in frustration.

Bruny went over to the door and put his hands on it. “It has been sealed by the demon.” He began praying out loud with his hands still on the door. Iliard stood just behind Bruny with both of his swords drawn. The Jade Dragon rippled with a greenish light.

They heard Alana cry out Laren’s name and, the sounds behind the door ceased. The group in hall heard the hissing rasp of the demon as it spoke and then heard Alana’s murmured reply a moment later. “Hurry,” Iliard whispered.

Bruny broke into a sweat. The demon’s spell was very powerful and he was having difficulty breaking through it. The first shriek of the demon caused his breath to catch in his throat and he had to calm himself so he could continue his task.

Once again, the noise of battle halted and Alana and the demon exchanged words again. Iliard paced the hallway, cursing under his breath. Lord Berol went to him. “Can you not just teleport into the room?”

Iliard shook his head. “I cannot teleport through the demon’s seal.”

Alana’s invocation rang out, startling everyone in the hallway. The demon’s scream of rage and pain shattered the air. The young Rangers covered their ears and fell to the floor. The door burst open under Bruny’s hands.

Alana dropped her weapons and ran to kneel beside Laren. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said as tears rolled down her face. “Please don’t be dead.” She leaned down and listened for any sign of life. Her heart leapt with joy when she heard the faint sound of Laren’s heartbeat. She placed one shaking hand on Laren’s mutilated chest and the other on her forehead. “Laren, please don’t die.” A sob rose from her. She couldn’t think. She tried to begin the healing prayer, but nothing would come.

Iliard, Bruny and Lord Berol ran into the room and were instantly assaulted by the stench of the demon that still lingered in the air. The room was a shambles of overturned furniture and broken glass. There was blood everywhere. Iliard caught sight of Alana kneeling and sobbing next to Laren’s body. She was wearing only a light camisole over her breeches and she had three deep gouges on her left shoulder.

Iliard was about to go over to comfort Alana, when he heard her say, “Focus, damn you, focus.” Then she began to pray, her words occasionally punctuated by soft sobs.

As Iliard watched Alana heal Laren, he noticed for the first time the Priest mark of Aniyatomei on her back. He turned to Lord Berol and asked, “Did you know about that?”

“Know about what?” Lord Berol asked in confusion.

Before Iliard could answer, Bruny gasped and said, “The Priest mark of Aniyatomei. Alana is a Priestess of three gods.” The three men looked at the mark which, at the moment, was glowing a faint silver.

“Blessed Asaeria,” Iliard whispered. “The prophecy is true.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead briefly. When Iliard opened his eyes again, Lord Berol was almost certain he saw tears there.

After Alana had finished the healing prayer, Iliard went over to her, knelt down beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. Startled, Alana whipped her head around to see who had touched her. When she saw Iliard, her eyes went wide and she threw her arms around his neck. He held her tightly while she buried her face in his shirt and sobbed quietly. She did not, however, allow herself much time for grieving. Soon, she pulled away and said, “I have to take care of Laren.”

Bruny came over to her. “We will take care of her. Now I need to heal your wounds. ”

Alana shook her head. “No, take care of Laren first. She’s not waking up.”

“She was very badly hurt,” Bruny said. “It will take some time for her to recover. There is nothing more you can do for her. Right now you must be healed. Demon wounds are dangerous. They must be healed as quickly as possible.”

Alana was going to protest until she saw the seraph standing behind Bruny with his hand on the Priest’s shoulder. She bowed her head in acquiescence. Who was she to interfere in another’s quest? “Yes, Brother Bruny. You’re right.”

Alana stood up so Bruny wouldn’t have to kneel in Laren’s blood. She stumbled slightly when a wave of dizziness washed over her. Bruny put his arm around her shoulders to steady her. He guided her to her bed. “Come, sit down.”

While Bruny healed Alana, Iliard took a blanket from Alana’s bed and covered Laren. She was still very pale from her loss of blood, but she seemed to be breathing easier. Iliard then went over to his niece and asked, “Alana, how did the demon get here?”

Alana shook her head. “I don’t know. After Laren brought me here, I went to sleep. When I woke up, the demon…” she paused, her voice catching her throat, “the demon was tearing her apart.”

“And you don’t remember anything before that?” Iliard asked.

Alana shuddered. “I remember having a terrible nightmare.” She stopped speaking and bowed her head.

“Alana, you must tell me,” Iliard insisted. “It’s very important.”

She swallowed hard before she began. “I was…naked…and chained to an altar.” Her voice trembled. “Someone was…touching me. It was horrible. I couldn’t get away. I called out to Laren to help. Then, I woke up and she was there fighting the demon.” Alana bit her bottom lip hard and struggled not to break down.

Iliard shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Lord Berol, who had gone out to check on the Rangers in the hallway, came back in and said, “I thought demons couldn’t cross from the shadow plane unless they were summoned by a Priest. Could there have been a Priest of Arnitath here?”

Bruny shook his head vehemently. “There was no Priest of Arnitath here. I would have known it immediately. All I sensed was the presence of the demon.”

Lord Berol hesitated, then asked, “Is it possible that Alana…?”

Iliard’s eyes blazed with fury and Bruny spat out, “Absolutely not. She is a Priestess of three noble gods. Arnitath does not share his Priests.”

Iliard took a deep breath a tried to force himself to calm down. He knew Lord Berol’s first concern was his stronghold and he needed to explore all possibilities. “If Alana doesn’t know how the demon crossed over, the only other person who might know is Laren. We will have to wait until she regains consciousness.”

“But Laren couldn’t have summoned the demon,” Alana said. The three men looked at Alana as if for the first time, realizing that they had been talking about her if she were not there.

“I’d have to agree with that,” Lord Berol said. “Laren has never shown any sort of Priest-like ability. As far as I know, she has never been able to heal even a small wound. Has that changed Alana?”

Alana bowed her head slightly. “No my Lord.”

Iliard frowned. He knew Alana well. She was hiding something.

Bruny turned to Alana. “I would like you to stay the night in the infirmary so I can tend to you.”

“But I’m fine,” Alana protested. “I want to help take care of Laren.”

“Alana, you need to rest, and I have to make sure there is no residual harm from the demon wounds,” Bruny insisted. “We will take care of Laren.”

Alana stood up and faced Bruny. “Brother Bruny, you do not understand. Laren almost died trying to protect me. I am going to help take care of her.”

The three men stared in surprise at Alana’s sudden change in demeanor. Half-dressed and spattered with blood, she stood straight, with her jaw set and her eyes commanding.

Bruny’s eyes widened a bit, he blinked once, then bowed his head slightly and said, “Of course, your Grace.”

Alana looked a little confused for a moment then said, “Thank you, Brother Bruny. I’m going to clean up and change before we go to the infirmary.”

Bruny nodded. “As you wish.”

After Alana gathered clothes and went into her bathing chamber, Bruny turned to Iliard and Lord Berol and said, “Your mouths are hanging open.”

Lord Berol stared at Bruny and asked, “What just happened here?”

“Alana is a High Priestess of Asaeria,” Bruny replied. “I am required to abide by her commands.”

Lord Berol shook his head. “How is this possible? She came here for Ranger training. Now she is the Priestess of three gods.”

“Alana was ordained by Asaeria herself,” Bruny replied with a shrug. “I have no other answer. I have only the task I have been given by my goddess. I am to protect Alana as long as she is here in this stronghold. Other than that, I know no more than you do.”

Lord Berol turned to Iliard. “Surely there must have been something about this in the prophecy.”

“Nothing in prophecy is ever clear,” Iliard replied. “I have only recently understood the implications of her ordinations.”

“She never mentioned them me at all,” Lord Berol said.

“Nor to me,” Iliard replied tersely. “I know as much about them as you do.”

Bruny cleared his throat quietly. The two men turned to find Alana standing in the doorway of her bathing chamber staring them with a bleak look on her face.

Iliard stepped toward her, “Alana…”

Alana put up her hand and shook her head. “We should get Laren to the infirmary.”

“I’ll take her,” Iliard said. He went over to Laren, carefully tucked the blanket around her and picked her up. Lord Berol led the way out, followed by Bruny, Iliard, and finally, Alana. As they proceeded down the hallway, Alana felt the eyes of the other Rangers on her.

Word of the demon attack had spread through the stronghold like wildfire. Many Rangers were gathered around her building, making it difficult for the group to get through. Alana felt the weight of their stares as she passed by them. She heard the whispers rippling through their ranks and her heart sank. If it had been difficult before for her to stay in the stronghold, she was certain that now it would be impossible. She blinked away the stinging tears that came to her eyes at the thought. This place was her home, more so than Castle Candril ever had been. She felt like she was walking in a funeral procession.

Sister Treise met them when they arrived at infirmary. When she saw the blood soaked blanket that covered Laren, she led the group into a large bathing chamber. Like Lord Berol’s bathing chamber, the floor was made of smooth, light gray stone. Six gently steaming, sunken tubs ran down the center of the dimly lit room. Beside each tub, next to the wall, was a low platform. On the wall above the platform was shallow basin. Warm water flowed into the basin, but did not flow out.

Iliard laid Laren down on the nearest platform. Treise said to the group, “Please wait outside.” The three men turned to leave, but Alana rolled up her sleeves and knelt down beside her friend. Sister Treise frowned slightly and said firmly, “You need to wait outside,”

Alana glanced up at Bruny, who in turn said, “Treise, Alana is going to help.”

Treise raised her eyebrows in surprise then replied, “Yes Brother Bruny.” Bruny nodded and then followed Iliard ad Lord Berol out of the room.

Treise knelt on the other side of Laren and took the blood soaked blanket off her. Alana unbuckled Laren’s sword belt and gently eased it off. She and Treise worked together to remove Laren’s torn and bloodied shirt and undershirt. They did the same with the rest of Laren’s clothing, working silently in unison until Laren was completely undressed.

Treise took a soft cloth from a pile that lay beside the basin, submerged it in the warm water and handed it to Alana, then took one for herself. After she had soaked her own cloth, she spoke a few quiet words and an opening appeared in the front of the basin which allowed the water to flow freely over Laren’s body and into the sunken tub beside her. Alana and Treise moved the cloths over Laren, wiping away the blood that covered her.

Alana had just wiped off the place where the demon had driven his talons into Laren’s midsection, when she stopped. She put down the cloth and let the water wash away the last vestiges of blood. There were four crescent-shaped, dark red marks on Laren’s left side, just below her ribcage. Alana put her hand over the place and was hit by a wave of revulsion so strong, she thought she was going to vomit.

Treise saw the look on Alana’s face and asked, “What is it?

“Curse,” Alana croaked out through her constricting throat. “The wound is cursed.”

Treise gave her a startled look. She put her hand over the marks and pulled it away as if she had been burned. She got up quickly. “I must get Brother Bruny.”

“That will not be necessary,” Alana replied distantly.

“You do not understand,” Treise said a little frantically. “The curse must be removed immediately or she will fall into great evil. There would be no returning from it for her.”

“I know,” Alana said as reached inside her shirt and pulled her amulet over her head. Treise watched in fascination as Alana placed the holy symbol directly on the demon’s marks and began to pray softly. A low moan of pain escaped Laren’s lips and her head tossed back and forth restlessly. Soon the foul stench of the demon’s evil filled the room. Treise started to cough and gag and finally ran out of the bathing chamber when she could stand no more. Alana continued to pray. Laren’s moans became harsh cries of agony. Her body writhed and twisted in an effort to escape the excruciating pain. Alana tried to hold down Laren’s body as best she could with one hand while she pressed down hard on the amulet with her other hand.

Treise was still coughing when she got outside the bathing chamber. Bruny, Iliard and Lord Berol were standing nearby in the courtyard. Treise rushed over to Bruny and gasped, “Brother Bruny, Alana is trying to remove a demon’s curse. You must go to her.”

Bruny looked at her and asked, “Did she ask for my help?”

Treise was taken aback by her superior’s response. “No, Brother Bruny, she did not.”

“Then I suggest you go back and finish your task,” Bruny said. “If Alana needs me, she will no doubt send you for me.

“But, Brother Bruny…”

Laren’s cry of agony cut through the night air. Without another word, Bruny ran back towards the bathing chamber.