The Princess and the Cube | Teen Ink

The Princess and the Cube

December 5, 2023
By kingj24373 BRONZE, Durham, North Carolina
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kingj24373 BRONZE, Durham, North Carolina
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Author's note:

This is the longest (and one of the first) pieces I've ever written!

The author's comments:

All good!

   Kathra Strakeln wandered through the crowded holiday streets, hood covering her black-spotted face. She had just come from her job in the mines, and was still in her work attire and drenched in coal dust. She had brought the single-piece hood for her walk through the city, although it didn’t look like she’d need it. Navigating as a dwarf was difficult on major holidays like Sledo, and she had trouble pushing through the sea of people. A soldier with a blue bear claw insignia on his chest had approached her on her way to work with an offer to squire for his noble house. She couldn’t remember what house he was from though. She was sure her brother, Thorin, had taught it to her at one point or another, but the only thing she cared about was the job. It would be high paying and include thrills and adventure, something Kathra had always wanted. She’d gone alone tonight for the opposite reason, and had only told a few casual friends; she was sure nobody else would want it for her. Not only would her friends and family not want her taking the job, they’d doubt its existence. But the man she’d talk to had been professional and sincere, and it didn’t matter anyway; she could handle herself. She’d purchased a dirk like her brother not long ago, and could use it to handle kidnappers. Not that that was likely. Her thoughts were interrupted when she bumped into an elf-human half-breed. The man’s hair, armor, and sword were beaten and tattered, and he stopped to apologize. She lifted her head to address him, but quickly dropped it and turned around. It was Markus, a friend of Thorin’s, someone she knew well. Kathra pushed her way through legs and torsos to get away from him. “Kathra!” Markus called out, but it was no use; they were soon lost to each other in the tide of bodies. After that, she went faster and kept her head lower, hoping to avoid anyone else. She soon arrived at her destination, the Raventree and Rosznar villas. She went around to the back of Rosznar villa, as her informant had instructed, and knocked four times. The door creaked open slowly, seemingly on its own. Kathra, now uneasy, stepped in wearily, and checked behind the door. Nobody. She took another step inside, and stopped in front of a large mirror. She surveyed her grimy face looking back at her, and the dark room sitting behind. Suddenly, a pale man with a bald head seemed to materialize out of the darkness. She gave a quick gasp, and reached for her dirk without turning around. But the man grabbed her, and thrust a sickly smelling cloth over her mouth and nose. Kathra began to see black fill her eyes, and felt the dirk slipping out of her weakening fingers. She soon slumped into the pale man’s arms, and her dirk dropped from her grasp, falling to the ground with a small thud.

The author's comments:

There wasn't really any chapters, this is just the main story, and the prologue and epilogue are tacked on at the beginning/end.

Thorin Strakeln placed his dirk on his hand-crafted dining room table, and sat down wearily. He rubbed his head and sighed softly, trying to keep quiet for his sleeping sisters in the next room. It had been a long day building roofs and traveling around the city. Yet it had been a strange day too. Maybe not unusual for Sledo, but still. Strange. It had begun with his conversation with his neighbor, Rowan, before work. It had started normal enough, with talk of Arvin getting the third-story room prepared for a new tenant, but had quickly turned disturbing when Rowan told him about a pale, bald man she’d been seeing around the villas she worked at. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but there was just something off about him. Then at the bookshop when he had seen something in Mardred’s crystal ball. Just the back of a familiar looking dwarf, but he’d never seen anything in it before. And while working he’d seen his friend Brinks, a rat-catcher, arguing with a new-to-town half-orc, presumably looking to steal her business. The orc had had an odd creature in the cage on his back; Thorin couldn’t quite make it out from the roof he’d been sitting on, but it hadn’t looked like any rat he’d ever seen. Later on, he’d heard disturbing news about public executions beginning again, starting with one tomorrow morning at dawn. Not long after that, he’d been touched by a driftglobe. The mysterious things -- no one knew if they were sentient or not -- floated around the city, high above most buildings. Yet today one had brushed up against Thorin’s shoulder, sending a shock throughout his body. And on his way home from work, while passing by an alley, he’d seen an army of rats run out from its depth, squeaking loudly. He’d paused and then continued walking, unnerved by the unusual behavior. The one constant during the day had been the pairs of House Rosner soldiers milling the streets. Thorin knew Lord Rosner was visiting for Sledo, but didn’t understand why the Lord of Esterstin allowed such a massive military presence. Perhaps the extra patronage. Thorin moved his hands from his head and placed them on his eyes, rubbing them violently. The past week had been filled with sleepless nights for him and the rest of his neighbors. An unexplainable inability to rest had gripped the residents of Petranos Tower, and the little sleep they did get was often filled with unsettling dreams. In fact, Thorin had purchased a sleeping potion earlier that day, and pulled it out of his pocket, examining the deep purple liquid inside. He placed it on the table, and surveyed the rest of his small dining room. His gaze landed on a smooth, metal cube sitting on a shelf. Thorin had found it in a pile of wood donated to his boss from House Rosner. He’d never been able to figure out what it was made of, but kept it at home as his most prized possession. He stood up and grabbed it now, running his fingers over the cold surface. After a minute, he slipped it into his cloak pocket, and walked over to the family’s bedroom. He pushed open the door and saw his sister, Helja sleeping soundly in her shared bed. No Kathra. It wasn’t unheard of for her to be out past curfew, but on a busy night like Sledo, Thorin was worried. He decided to go out and find her; tomorrow would be an easy work day regardless. Thorin walked over to Helja, and shook her awake. “Hey, I need you to go to Kolath’s for a while. Kathra isn’t back yet, I’m going out to find her.” His mute sister stretched, and signed to him in acknowledgement. She got ready quickly as Thorin was changing out of his work clothes, and left first, waving goodbye on her way to her bosses’ bakery. Kolath was a good man, he’d take care of her for the night.

Thorin left his family’s rooms and swung the door shut behind him, not bothering to bolt it. The lock had been broken for a few months now, and Thorin hadn’t had the time to get it fixed. On his way to the stairs he passed by Kenna, his landlady, who turned to address him just as he reached the stairs. “Have you seen Arvin today, Thorin? He hasn’t been around since this morning.” Thorin’s thick brow furrowed. He didn’t have time for this.

“That’s the second time you’ve asked today. Like I said, if I see him, I’ll let you know. Good night,” Thorin said. Kenna looked upset, and frowned slightly.

“No need to be so short, I’m just asking is all.” Thorin sighed.

“I’m sorry Kenna. Rowan told me she saw him go up to the third floor early this morning. Have you checked there?”

“Well, no. I sent him up there to prep the room for some knight who’s arriving tomorrow; looking to serve under Lord Rosner I think. But I heard him come back down the stairs, and shut the door.”

“Did you actually see him leave?” A worried look flashed across Kenna’s face.

“Well, I suppose not. But it must’ve been him! Oh, Thorin, could you go up and check? You’d be doing me a mighty big favor.” Thorin sighed again, then gave Kenna a weak smile.

“Sure Kenna. I’ll be right back down. I’m sure he’s fine.” He walked up the spiral staircase that led to the single room on the third-floor in Petranos Tower. The hinges on the heavy wooden door opened without a sound; freshly oiled. The room was clean and tidy. There was a vase of fresh flowers sitting on the windowsill, glowing white in the pale moonlight. Everything looked normal. Then Thorin saw it. A hand poking out from behind the bed, fingers prone and palm facing up towards the raftered ceiling. Thorin rushed over, and saw the body of Arvin Layabout lying motionless on the floor. His mouth was slightly ajar, and his eyes were wide as if frozen in terror. Thorin took two fingers and felt his pulse. Nothing. He paused for a moment, just staring at his friend sadly. He then got up and went to the door, planning to have Kenna fetch the City Watch. On his way out, Thorin heard a light tap, followed by a low moan. He turned around slowly, studying the hand resting beside the bed. Fingers in the same spots, palm still looking up at the sky. He shook his head, and left.

Kenna had gone to fetch the police and Thorin was waiting on the curb when the dragonborn arrived. He’d decided to hold off on searching for Kathra; she was probably fine anyway. She was always running away to some far off place in the city. Arvin had been murdered after all, by the mysterious figure Kenna had heard leave in his place. Thorin heard her before he saw her. The scaly, taloned feet were loud on the cobbled street, and he looked up when he saw her approaching. Her face was covered in silver scales, and she had distinctive tattoos under her eyes with a lotus flower covering the right side of her neck. She walked up to Thorin, and stopped, looking down at him. “I’m Illiyana,” she said. “Are you the one who found Arvin Layabout?” He hesitated before answering.

“Yes,” he eventually said. Illiyana brightened noticeably after he said that, and her eyes seemed to dance with fire.

“Tell me everything. What he looked like, if he had any injuries, whatever you saw. I need to know.” Now Thorin felt uncomfortable. This dragonborn, Illiyana, was a little too interested.

“I need to go,” he said, standing up to leave. “You can ask my landlady, Kenna.” He walked away quickly, not looking behind him.

“Your sister is missing.” Thorin turned around sharply.

“How did you know that?” he asked.

“Special spell. Allows me to read minds. It’s no matter though. I can help you, Thorin. Let me.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“But I know you. Your mind is an open book, and you’re turning the pages for me. I know your mother died when you were young. I know you feel like you abandoned her after going to work for your father. I know when your parents died, you took it upon yourself to care for your two sisters. I know you feel like you can’t do that. Your constant work, your thirst for knowledge, your obsession with protection; I know it’s all just a way to prove yourself to yourself. A way to make-up for failing your mother. I’m trying to find your sister too. Let’s protect her together.” Thorin said nothing for a long while. Thoughts raced through his head, and he tried to push them down, shield them from this mind-reading dragonborn. He shook his head angrily.

“I don’t need your help,” Thorin said. “I’ll find her on my own.” He turned back the way he was going, and began walking briskly to the mines.

The road to the Esterstin mining system was crowded with people out for the holiday. A vast sea of different species, which would not part for the short dwarf trying to make his way through. Thorin bumped into a man covered in old plated armor, knocking the beaten up sword he carried out of its scabbard. Thorin bent down to retrieve it, and looked up at a familiar, smiling face. “Thorin!” Markus said, grinning. “Where are you off to?”

“Hey, Markus,” Thorin said. “Going to the mines. Trying to find Kathra.” 

“Well, you won’t find her there. Last I saw her, she was heading towards those villas. Uh, Raventree and Rosznar I think they’re called. She seemed to be in a rush.”

“Let’s get out of the street,” Thorin said. He took Markus by the arm, and led him through the crowd. They reached the side of the street, and he turned around to face Markus. “Okay. You need to tell me exactly what she was doing.

“Oh, I don’t know, Thorin. All I remember is her clothes. Her miner uniform with a brown coat, I think. Hair pulled back? You know, what she usually wears.”

“I saw her,” Thorin said to himself. “That was her in the crystal ball.”

“Ah, what are you talking about, Thorin?” Markus asked. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” Thorin said, slowly. “You seen that crystal ball Mardred keeps in her shop? The one that’s always cloudy? I saw her in it earlier today.” A confused look crossed Markus’ face. “I saw Kathra, I mean, not Mardred. But now I gotta go see Mardred. See what it meant.”

“Alright, well I gotta stop here anyway,” Markus said. “Come back to meet me when you get back. You know I worry about that girl.”

“I know, Markus. And thank you. See you soon.”

Thorin arrived at Mardred’s quickly. The streets were gradually thinning out as more and more people went back to their homes for the night. Several candles in Mardred’s shop were burning brightly, illuminating the rows of books stacked neatly on their shelves. Thorin could see Mardred inside sorting out her wares, using a small ladder to reach the higher levels. He knocked twice, loudly, but Mardred didn’t even turn her head. “Go away! We’re closed!” she yelled.

“Oh, Mardred,” Thorin said. “Surely you won’t pass up a visit from your favorite customer.” Mardred turned around, smiling, and came to the door.

“You can’t be my favorite customer, Thorin. You never actually buy anything. All you do is take up space I need for my actual patrons.” She opened the door, and the bell hanging above gave a familiar tinkle. “What can I do for you at this hour?”

“Just a quick question. You know that crystal ball you keep? The one I never see anything in?”

“Of course. What about it?”

“I saw Kathra in it earlier today. Didn’t even realize it was her at first. You happen to know what the ball means?” Mardred gave a small chuckle.

“Ah, to tell you the truth, I’ve never seen anything in it either. I bought it from some self-proclaimed fortune teller a while ago. A scam to be sure, but I thought it’d make a nice decoration. The lady, a half-elf if I remember right, said you can see your loved ones in it when their death approaches. Can you imagine?” One of the candles went out suddenly, and Thorin’s heart skipped a beat. Mardred laughed as she went to relight it. “What a load of rubbish. My sister died just last month, and I never saw her in that ball. And you’d think I’d have been able to with all she’d been eating!”

“I thought you hated your sister,” Thorin remarked. He was trying to keep calm, but his mind was racing. He did his best to reassure himself. After all, Kathra went out to pull pranks on people all the time. The gods know some of those stuck-up rich folks at the villas deserve them too. And the ball was most likely fake anyway; what fortune teller would give that up?

“Ah, well, I suppose I did,” Mardred said, interrupting his train of thought. “She abandoned the family for that rich dwarf nobody liked. A lot of good that did her!” She got the candle going again, and looked back at Thorin, concerned. “Everything okay? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I should hope not. I need to find Kathra. Markus saw her going towards those villas a little ways from here. Raventree and Rosznar,” he said. “Thank you, Mardred.”

“Oh, just wait a minute, Thorin. I’ll come with you,” she said, grabbing her fur coat slung over a chair. “Put out those candles on your way out for me. I’m sure she’s just fine,” Thorin smiled to himself, relieved.

“Sure thing. We’ll stop for Markus on the way there.”

“Good. He’s late on his returns.” They both laughed, and walked outside into the crisp night air. Thorin looked around while Mardred locked up. Across the street he saw a man leaning against a building. He was staring towards the ground with his hood up, and Thorin could make-out a spot of blue across his chest, not covered by his black coat. “Coming Thorin?” Mardred asked.

“Yeah,” Thorin said, still staring at the stranger. “Let’s go.” he tore his gaze away, and began leading Mardred back to the street where he’d left Markus. Thorin looked behind him several times on the way there. Nothing.

They soon reached the spot. The streets had been so crowded before, but now were all but empty. Most of the buildings were dark, and had closed for the night. Thorin looked around for Markus, but didn’t see him. He hadn’t thought to ask what Markus was actually stopping for. “He’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Thorin said to Mardred. “Markus! You there?” No response. Then a few seconds later, Markus' voice called out from somewhere in the near vicinity.

“Over here, Thorin! In the alley to your right!” Thorin hesitated. Why would Markus be in an alley? Why wouldn’t he come out to meet them?

“Hold on, Mardred,” Thorin said. “Something doesn’t feel right.” Mardred smiled warmly.

“Oh, no need to worry! You heard him, that’s Markus. Come on.” She walked toward the alley that Markus’ voice had directed them too. Thorin followed uneasily. The alley was a little dark, but both he and Mardred could see what was going on inside. There wasn’t a soul in sight; just piles of trash overflowing from a lonely wooden bin. Thorin jogged to catch-up with her. They walked forward, side by side through the alley. Suddenly, Thorin heard a small clink, perhaps the rustle of chain armor, and grabbed Mardred’s arm, stopping her in place.

“Did you hear that,” he whispered. Mardred said nothing. As if recognizing the element of surprise had been lost, three figures jumped out from behind the large trash bin. Two of them were humans armored in heavy chainmail with long broadswords at their sides. The blue bear claw of House Rosner covered the front of their shirts. The other figure stood on four legs; a crocotta Thorin thought. He’d only read about the legendary mimics in books, never seen one up close. It was terrifying in person. Its massive fangs were bared, and the slender, mule-like body was trembling. The creature was salivating too, desperately wanting to feed on the prey it had lured into the alley with its siren’s call. Yet it stayed still, unmoving; House Rosner must’ve tamed it, kept it as a pet. Or in this case a weapon. Thorin began to back away slowly. He pulled Mardred with him, and then turned around to break into a run, trying to put distance between himself and the beast. But his exit became blocked when two more Rosner soldiers jumped out from either side of the alley. One was armed with a similar broadsword, and the other had a bow with an arrow nocked to the string. Thorin stopped mid-step. His sister was in danger, possibly near death, and here he was held up by a few rogue soldiers. Suddenly, the archer lifted his bow, pulled back the string, and fired. Thorin pulled out his dirk with the slightest hesitation, and the arrow shot forward right towards the frozen Mardred. Thorin reached out to deflect it, but a split second too late, and the arrow struck Mardred directly in the heart. A quiet moan escaped her lips, and she fell to the ground with a small thud. Thorin stared at her fallen body in horror. The blue-feathered shaft protruded from her chest as an ugly reminder of his own fear and indecisiveness. He then looked up to see the archer nocking another arrow, and pulling it back, aimed right at him. He was about to release when the bloodied end of a sword protruded from his chest. He looked down at the point in horror before his eyes glazed over. The sword was pulled out, and he fell to the ground in a heap, revealing a crouching dragonborn behind him. Illiyana. The now lone soldier to her right had stepped back in shock, but now unsheathed his sword from its scabbard, and lunged forward, tip pointed towards Illiyana’s belly. She turned quickly and parried, knocking the point of his sword into the ground. His momentum carried him forward and he stumbled, giving Illiyana a chance to swing her sword back into his midsection. He went down groaning and bloody. At this point, the two soldiers on the other side had already sprung into action, releasing their crocotta. It sprung forward at a terrifying speed, coming straight towards Thorin’s motionless figure. He lifted his small dirk, and nearly laughed at its size. Was this the end of him? Would he end his so far meaningless death in a random alley to a crocotta? Well, that was pretty cool, but dying now wasn’t. And his sisters. One alone somewhere, the other with a friend, both waiting for him to return. Luckily, he wasn’t going to let them down. Not due to his own actions, but because of Illiyana’s. After taking out the second soldier, she spread her wings and leaped forwards, flapping as she went. She landed right on top of the crocotta, and drove her sword into the top of its head on the way down. It fell to the ground instantly, taking Illiyana with him. Both soldiers charged towards the slaughter in front of them, seeking vengeance for their fallen comrades. One came toward Thorin, the other toward Illiyana. This time he was ready. The soldier raised his sword and swung down in a murderous overhead arc. Thorin caught the sword with the flat side of his dirk, which sent a jolt down his arm. The soldier brought his sword over his head again, foolishly trying the tactic once more. Thorin took that opportunity to lunge forward and drive his dirk upward into the man’s heart. The sword dropped to the ground, shortly followed by the soldier. Meanwhile, Illiyana’s legs were trapped beneath the crocotta’s carcass, as the remaining soldier rained down a flurry of blows. Blows she was desperately parrying. Thorin ran over to help, but tripped over the leg of the soldier he’d just killed. He fell painfully, and his cube came clattering out of his pocket, and rolled near the feet of the soldier standing on top of Illiyana. He stopped his assault to look down. A look of surprise crossed his face, which was followed by what looked like recognition. Completely forgetting about Illiyana now, he bent down to pick it up. From behind him, Illiyana shoved the point of her sword into his calf, and he fell to his knees, grabbing his leg to stop the stream of blood. With a massive swing, she chopped off his head, and his body fell forward, landing on top of the cube. Thorin rushed toward the headless corpse. to find his prized possession. He got it out from underneath the soldier’s body before his blood tainted the smooth, shiny surface. Illiyana pushed the crocotta off of her legs, and they rose at the same time, facing each other.

“Good fighting,” Illiyana said. She grabbed a handful of cloth from her pant leg, and used it to wipe the blood off her sword. “You’re pretty good with that dirk.”

“Thanks,” Thorin said. “That flying-jump thing was pretty cool.” Illiyana nodded her head, smiling slightly.

“The advantage of wings. Where did you get that… what’s it made of?” she asked. Thorin looked down at the cube sitting in his hand, and then back to Illiyana who was staring at it quizzically.

“I don’t know,” Thorin said. “It was in a pile of wood donated to my boss from House Rosner. I picked it up, and have had it ever since. No metal I know of.” Illiyana said nothing for a while. She just stared at the cube, thinking. 

“Interesting,” she finally said. “Well, I’m sure you’re wondering why I saved you.” She looked at Thorin, expecting a response. He nodded his head, still shaken. “I’ve been investigating disappearances throughout the city for the last couple of days now. Have you noticed all the House Rosner soldiers patrolling the streets?” Thorin nodded his head again.

“Of course. Lord Rosner’s staying in the city,” he said.

“Well, because of the great Lord Rosner’s generosity, his soldiers are patrolling this part of the city in place of the City Watch. A most benevolent gesture to help out with the high crime on Sledo. Yet the soldiers do nothing. All of the disappearances have happened in this section of the city, but they do no investigating. My own inquiries have only led to me finding out where these people are disappearing. Near those two villas, uh, Raventree and Rosznar. So when I heard from a miner friend about his co-worker ditching work to go visit, I came to find you.”

“Kathra,” Thorin said, more to himself than Illiyana. “Did you find her?”

“No,” Illiyana said. “I’ve been following you since Arvin’s murder. I figured you’d be targeted for investigating. Good thing I did.”

“How was he murdered?” Thorin asked. “He wasn’t even near the villas, how could he be a part of this--this--this plot?”

“Not all of them are. And I don’t know how he was killed. After you so suddenly left, I went upstairs to see the body. It was gone.” She stopped for a second, and began pacing around the alley, seemingly not addressing him anymore. “I suspect House Rosner is behind these disappearances. Your sister and Arvin too. They take or murder these people, and cover it up with their soldiers. I just don’t know why.” She paused again, and halted her pacing to stop and look at Thorin. “And I’d like you to help.” Thorin looked down at the cube still sitting in his hand, thinking. He slipped it back into his pocket, and looked up to Illiyana.

“A couple years ago, when I was walking home from work, I saw a man in the street. He was throwing gold into the crowd, and talking about some adventure he’d been on. I stood there for a while, just listening to him talk. I spent that night imagining him on his journey. Slaying orcs, and trolls, and dragons with nerves of steel. Never hesitating, always prepared. I’d always dreamed of being like him.” He took a deep breath. “Yet I hesitated today. I hesitated, and my friend is dead.” He pointed at Mardred’s body, truly acknowledging it for the first time. “She’s dead! And I couldn’t save her. Now my sister is gone, and I can’t protect her either.” He fell to the ground, hands on the road. The coarse cobblestone hurts his knees, but Thorin didn’t notice. Then he felt a light hand touch his shoulder, and looked up to see Illiyana gazing down at him.

“What happened to Mardred wasn’t your fault. And we’re going to find Kathra. I can guarantee you that.” She smiled sadly at him. “People say you’re a good fighter, Thorin Strakeln, and an even better man. I believe you can help me. You just need to believe that too.” She began walking away, heading out of the alley. “I’m going to a friend’s house. Feel free to come.” Thorin stood up, and wiped a tear off his cheek, suddenly embarrassed. He turned around, and stared at Mardred’s body for a second, once again confronting the shaft protruding from her heart. He then sheathed his dirk, and hurried after Illiyana.

“Where are we going?” Thorin asked after a few minutes of walking. He was slightly out of breath from the walk; Illiyana’s long strides dwarfed his own.

“Sybil’s cheese shop. She’s a good friend. And my cheese supplier,” she said, completely serious.

“Cheese supplier?” Thorin asked.

“Dragons love cheese,” she said. Thorin couldn’t detect a hint of humor. They walked in silence for the rest of the way, through the dimly lit streets. Driftglobes floated overhead, well out of reach. They passed several pairs of House Rosner soldiers who all glanced them over before moving on. At one point Thorin heard yells from the direction they’d come; the guards had presumably found their fallen comrades. The pair quickened their pace after that, and soon arrived at Sybil’s. Thorin had been there many times before to purchase meats and cheeses, but never at night. Racks of lamb and large steaks hung from the dark windows ominously. Through the door he could see candlelight towards the back of the shop. Several shadows danced with the swaying flame. He and Illiyana entered, and he followed her to a room behind the counter. Thorin entered to see a male half-elf and female elf talking around a table. Their conversation cut off abruptly when he entered.

“Who’s this?” the half-elf asked. He had a rough look about him with fresh bruises covering his face; he’d recently been in a fight. One that didn’t go his way.

“This is Thorin, a friend. He’s going to be helping us,” Illiyana said. “Thorin this is Naal and Enna.” Thorin nodded to them both. The half-elf, Naal, nodded back, while Enna just stared at him with bright green and gold eyes. He realized he recognized those eyes; he’d seen Enna around town before, often playing a harp.

“I recognize you,” he told her. “Where’s your harp?” Enna took a drink from a cup on the table before answering.

“I know you too, carpenter. Not the night for music.” Thorin nodded in agreement. “What’s your reason for partaking in this somber occasion?” she asked.

“His sister is missing,” Illiyana said. “Some people’s reasons for helping are more admirable than others.” She glanced at Naal, accusingly. “Why don’t you two fill him in.” Naal laughed before answering.

“Ah, Smoky over here’s just mad I’m making her pay me. I had some gold stolen earlier

tonight, needed some coin,” he said.

“Hence the bruises,” Thorin said.

“Hence the bruises.” Naal picked up a piece of meat, and slapped it over his eye. “Handy

place to meet, huh? Anyway, we already knew each other, and ended up meeting here at Sybil’s. I heard some ominous prophecy of hers, she figured out I had a rune that defends against the undead, you know, the usual, and here we are. Me and Illiyana knew each other before; figured we could help each other out too.”

“That about sums it up,” Illiyana said. “Enna, what about you.” Enna took another drink before answering, staring at the table thoughtfully.

“Sorry your sister was kidnapped,” she said, eyes still down.

“Thank you,” Thorin said, slightly taken aback.

“My friend was taken too.” There was pain in her eyes and voice. “Me and Carlin went to get a book translated. Some pretty disturbing stuff too; portals and dimensional travel for the undead. Like Naal said, the usual. We go our separate ways for a while with plans to meet up again for dinner, but she doesn’t show. Instead, a dragonborn sits down in her place, telling me that Carlin’s been taken, and I’m in grave danger. Turns out nobody’d seen Carlin after that reading either. I’m just trying to get her back.” She stopped, her voice cracking and took another sip of her drink. Thorin didn’t know what to say. Naal looked up at the ceiling uncomfortably, and Illiyana swallowed hard, both taken aback by Enna’s emotional confession. Thorin wanted to give her a hug.

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Illiyana said finally. “Trying to help the town, help our loved ones, help ourselves. To do that we need to solve this case though. Anyone have something?” Nobody said anything. Illiyana looked around before answering her own question. “Alright, well, I’ve seen an awful lot of rats. Roaming the city in great numbers, behaving erratically; anyone know anything about that?” Thorin remembered his sighting from the roof. The new rat-catcher with his mysterious quarry.

“I actually do. I was working on a roof earlier today, and saw my friend Brinks, she’s a rat-catcher, arguing with this half-orc. I’d never seen him before, but they were getting into it. He had something in the cage on his back too. Surely a rat, but it was bigger than any I’d ever seen.”

“Well that’s something,” Illiyana said. “You know where we can find him?”

“I don’t know about the orc, but Brinks lives not too far from here,” Thorin said. “She might know.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Illiyana said. “Thorin, lead the way.” Enna and Naal got up to follow. Illiyana blew out the candle, and they all left Sybil’s shop. Naal made sure to grab a piece of cheese on his way out.

The group soon arrived at Brinks’ rundown house. Thorin knocked on the door loudly, and heard a flurry of commotion upstairs as Brinks got out of bed. “Coming!” she yelled down to them.

“No rats here,” Illiyana said. She was right, Brinks’ street was devoid of the pests that had plagued most alleys in Esterstin for the last couple days.

“I wonder why,” Naal said sarcastically. Illiyana glared at him. Brinks opened the door, and greeted them with a smile.

“Hey, Thorin,” she said. “What can I do for all of you?”

“You know that half-orc you were arguing with earlier today?” Thorin asked. “We need to find him. Do you know where he went after?” Brinks was noticeably upset at his mention, and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that idiot. I’ve never met anyone ruder. Said I needed to leave the area, and leave the rat-catching to him. He wasn’t even catching very many! Just the big, fat ones that have been around the street lately. They act funny, sure, but I don’t get why he’d be after them. Anyway, whenever he got that cage of his full, he went over to those villas. Uh, Raventree and Rosznar I think.”

“Everything leads to there,” Illiyana muttered behind him.

“What was that?” Brinks asked.

“Nothing Brinks,” Thorin said. “We need to get going. Thanks for the help.”

“Why are you looking for him anyway?” Brinks asked.

“No reason,” Thorin said quickly. “Night.”

“Well, alright. See you, Thorin. Nice to meet you guys.” Brinks closed the door, disappointed. Thorin walked past the group, and started heading towards the villas. He was sure he’d find Kathra there. It was no coincidence that Markus had seen her going that way. And that Markus was now dead. He pressed on, with the others following behind him.

They soon came across the half-orc, cage empty, and walking away from the villas. Thorin motioned the rest of them to get back, and they all shuffled into a nearby alley quietly. The half-orc hadn’t paid the group any notice; he was surveying the streets and gutters, looking for more rats. Thorin walked over to him, and raised his hand in greeting. “Hello friend!” he said. “What’s your name?” The half-orc looked up crossly.

“None of your business, dwarf,” he said. His voice was deep and gravelly. Thorin slipped his dirk out of its sheath behind his back, and smiled warmly.

“Come now, no need for hostility.” He continued walking toward the half-orc. “What’re you catching?”

“I said get back!” the half-orc said. He reached for a shortsword at his side. In that moment, Thorin took several quick steps forward, and closed the distance between him and the creature in a second. He pressed his dirk against the half-orcs stomach, and looked up, still smiling.

“I said, what’s your name? Friend.” Thorin continued smiling. The half-orc was frozen in place, eyes wide open, and with his right hand clasped around the hilt of his sword.

“Davor,” the half-orc said, not moving a muscle.

“Great, nice to meet you Davor,” Thorin said. “Now, remove the sword, and drop it.” Davor did as he was told. His sword clattered to the ground loudly. “Now, you’re going to walk over to my friends over there.” Thorin pointed towards the alley behind him with his free hand. “And I’m going to walk behind you. Sound good, Davor?” He gulped.

“Sure thing,” he said.

“Great. Let’s go.” Thorin positioned himself behind him, placing the point of his dirk against his back, and began walking forwards. Davor went along eagerly, trying to separate himself from the following steel. They reached the alley, and Illiyana jumped forward to push him against the wall. She held him in place by his throat, and pressed the point of her sword against his throat. Davor whimpered.

“What are you doing with the rats?” Illiyana asked.

“Nothing!” he said, holding his hands high above his head. “Just making some extra money, I swear!” Illiyana increased the pressure on his neck, and a drop of blood materialized, coating the point of her sword in red.

“It’s Davor, isn’t it?” Illiyana didn’t give him time to answer. “Well, Davor, we know something’s going on here. We’ve already killed four Rosner soldiers. What makes you think we won’t kill you?” He whimpered again.

“Fine! Fine, fine, fine I’ll tell you. I’ve been hired to capture any abnormally large rats around the city, and bring them to the villas. That’s it!”

“Who hired you?” Thorin asked.

“I don’t know, some guy. Um, he had a, uh, bald head, pale face, pretty generic looking. He wouldn’t tell me why either, just said the rats were vital to his work.”

“What are the rats like?” Enna asked.

“Well, they’re big. Bigger than any rats I’ve ever seen. And, um, they’re, uh, they have green eyes too! With bite marks all over their body. You can’t kill them either, I tried.” Illiyana dropped him from her grasp, and he fell to the ground gasping. She thought for a minute before addressing him again.

“And you never found this strange?” she asked. Davor shook his head rapidly.

“No, the man, he, he paid me well. I didn’t want to ask questions.” Illiyana smiled, and offered him her hand. He reached for it hesitantly, but allowed her to lift him off the ground.

“Thanks for your help, Davor,” Illiyana said, brushing off the sleeves of his shirt. Davor gave her a weak smile.

“Well, no problem, ma’am. I’ll be on my--” His words were stopped mid-sentence when the butt of Illiyana’s sword slammed into his temple. He crumpled to the ground, knocked out cold. Illiyana snorted.

“Won’t be catching anymore rats tonight!” she said cheerfully. “So, does anyone know anything about this pale, bald man?” Thorin glanced around at the others.

“My friend, Rowan, has seen him at her work. Near the Raventree and Rosznar villas,” he said.

“I’ve seen him around the city,” Enna said. “Near those villas, in the potion brewer, outside Petranos Tower.”

“That’s where I live,” Thorin said. Maybe the pale man had been the one who’d killed Arvin. The person Kenna had heard on the stairs.

“Thorin, why is your family having a hard time sleeping?” Illiyana asked. Thorin glanced at her, surprised.

“Um, I don’t know. Just something we’ve had for the past couple nights. Seems like nobody in the building can either. How do you know?”

“Oh, I saw your sister signing about it at the bakery,” Illiyana said absentmindedly. She turned towards the group, seeming to come to a decision. “I heard this prophecy today. Naal, you heard it too. I think it’s the key to everything: the reason for the pale man, the soldiers, the murders, all of it. It went, ‘The curse of the princess can only be broken by the sacrifice of a queen under lightning, thunder, fire, and frost.”

“Great,” Naal said. “Now that you finally told them, you can tell me what it means.”

“Something to do with the dead queen and lost princess of House Rosner I’m sure. But that doesn’t matter now, we need to go.” She started walking towards the villas again. Naal sighed.

“Maybe she’ll fill us in on the way,” he said, and began walking after her. Thorin glanced down at the snoring half-orc, still lying on the ground.

“What do we do with him?” Thorin asked.

“Maybe Brinks will come catch him!” Illiyana said. “He’s a rat after all!” Thorin smiled, and walked after her.

The group continued walking silently. The city was sound asleep now without a soul in sight. The moon was full and high above their heads, heading west as it began to set. The tiredness that had plagued Thorin for the last couple days was gone now, replaced by adrenaline. He thought of his sisters, and his mother, and his father. Especially his father. His role model, the man who’d tasked him with protecting his sisters when he died. I won’t let you down, Dad, Thorin thought to himself. “Guys!” Enna said, bringing Thorin out of his thoughts. She had been walking ahead of everyone else, and was running towards two figures lying on the ground not far ahead. Naal, Illiyana, and Thorin sprinted after her, and crouched down to survey the scene. It was Boots, the dragonborn who runs the cider cart, shaking a passed out tabaxi, trying to wake her up.

“Boots!” Thorin said. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Boots said through tears. “I was just walking home with my cart, she was walking in front of me, and she stopped in front of an alley, and, and just, she just fell! For no reason! I ran over, and couldn’t wake her up.” Thorin looked to his right, and saw her cart in the middle of the road. He then looked at the alley, remembering it from earlier in the day. The place he’d seen the army of rats.

“Well, good thing you were here, Boots,” Illiyana said. She placed her hand on the tabaxi’s forehead, and closed her eyes. “I’ll take it from here.” Boots sat down on her butt, hugging her knees, and wiped tears away from her eyes.

“Illiyana,” Thorin whispered. “I know this place. I saw rats in this alley earlier today. Hundreds of them.” Illiyana nodded, now feeling the tabaxi’s pulse.

“I’m sure. Not sure how well you can see in that alley, but there’s feces and fur scattered all over the place. They were here, and for a while.” Thorin squinted inside the alley, and saw she was right. Unusual.

“So, you’re the dragon who does the hand thing, right? That follows people around to get your cup?” Naal asked Boots, sitting down next to her.

“Um, yes,” Boots said, still sniffling.

“How does it work?” Naal asked.

“Well, I’m able to summon it from a different dimension,” Boots said. “People who know about it say it's black magic, but there’s nothing dangerous about it. Sure, the hand itself is undead, but I’m in total control.” Naal blinked several times, surprised.

“You can control the undead while sending them through dimensions, and that’s what you use it for?” Boots looked down at the ground embarrassed.

“Some people don’t just think about money,” Enna said, glaring at Naal. She took a book out of her bag, and walked over to Boots. “Is this how you learned to do it hon?” Boots looked up, and smiled, surprised. 

“That’s it!” she said. “Mine had a brown cover and was more tattered, but the same book.” They heard a small groan, and all looked over to see the tabaxi sitting up slowly, holding her hand against her forehead.

“Hey, not so fast,” Illiyana said, putting her hand on her back for support. “What’s your name?” The tabaxi eventually sat all the way up, and massaged her head before answering.

“Seraphina,” she said. “What happened?”

“What happened to you?” Boots asked, her voice shrill. “I was just walking, and you fell. Just fell.” Seraphina turned her head, and glanced into the alley.

“In there,” she said. “I felt something. A wave of, of, death. It came out of nowhere, and it was powerful. More powerful than anything I’ve ever felt.” Illiyana looked at her, worried.

“Seraphina. There’s nothing in there,” she said. Seraphina struggled to stand up, but got to her feet. Her fur was sticking up all over her body, and her eyes were crazed.

“No, it’s coming. We need to leave this place. All of us.” As if on cue, something appeared in the middle of the alley. A glowing green portal, several feet tall and wide. It seemed to be made of smoke, and swirling tendrils of lime gave it shape. Boots ran immediately, leaving her cart behind. Seraphina began to walk away, hoping the rest would follow, but Illiyana walked into the alley, towards the portal. Thorin followed with Enna and Naal right behind. Seraphina came after them reluctantly. Suddenly, a leg came out of the portal, shortly followed by an entire body. Four more bodies followed in quick succession, one of them being dragged by the others, possibly dead. In fact, all of them could’ve been dead. The figures wore tattered clothes, and their skin was mottled and bulging. Small bugs crawled over their bodies, going in and out of holes peppered throughout. And their eyes. They glowed green, same as the portal.

“The undead,” Illiyana whispered. Nobody moved. The zombies remained frozen in place as if waiting for a command. Not long after, Thorin heard footsteps approaching from the other side of the alley, their way out. But not normal footsteps. Well, one pair was walking in an even manner, but the rest had no rhythm. They seemed to be walking sporadically, shuffling along. He soon found out why when a crowd of the undead staggered into the entrance to the alley. There were ten of them at least, some hidden behind the others, and standing in front of them was a man. He was dressed in a black robe with red on the inside. His skin was pale, and his head bare, shining in the moonlight. He looked surprised to see them, but then smiled warmly.

“And I thought nobody went in this alley!” he said, chuckling to himself. “Well, what are you going to do? It’s trickier than you’d think to control where those portals come out at.” The undead still hadn’t moved. Thorin stepped forward, hand on his dirk.

“Be careful,” Illiyana whispered to him. “That’s a warlock.”

“You’re right!” the warlock yelled, somehow hearing her. “And you,” he said, addressing Thorin. “The mighty dwarf. Still looking for your sister? I thought the House Rosner guards could handle you, but that was silly to assume I suppose. Or maybe you had help from your friends here?”

“Give me my sister, or I’ll kill you,” Thorin said, keeping his voice even. The warlock laughed.

“I’d love to stay for that, I really would, but I must be going. My friends here will make quick work of you.” Suddenly, the undead sprang into action. The ten surrounding the warlock surged forward, coming straight at Thorin and the group. The four behind them split up; two dragged the woman off to the other end of the alley, and the others attacked, blocking any escape. The warlock just stood there, still smiling.

“Naal! Your rune!” Illiyana yelled. Naal reached in his pocket, and pulled it out, fumbling. He managed to grab hold of it though, and held it above his head with both hands. A beam of orange light shot out of the rune in all directions, and encased the group in a protective bubble. The undead slammed against the shield, but could not get through. Massive booms shook the orange sphere as the undead banged against it with their hands, feet, and heads. “It won’t hold for long!” Illiyana said. “Thorin, your cube!” He was tempted to ask her why, but decided against it; since he met her Illiyana had been right about everything. An all-knowing guide on his journey, as wise and powerful as Gandalf defending the dwarves. He reached into his cloak, and removed the cube, holding it at eye level. But what to do with it? He turned to look at Illiyana, and she shrugged. “It does something!” she yelled. “Just find out what!” Thorin surveyed the horde of undead surrounding him. His eyes landed on the warlock still standing in the background. His eyes were narrow with dark gray pupils, and they were locked on the cube in Thorin’s hand. For a split second, all the undead stopped, and turned their heads to the cube as well. Then the moment was gone, and they continued clawing at the shield with renewed vigor.

“It won’t hold much longer!” Matt said, his voice straining. The rune was shaking in his hand, and his palm was white from gripping it. Suddenly, it broke, exploding into a million pieces, sending small pebbles all over.

“We’ve got behind!” Illiyana yelled, drawing her sword, and jumping in front of the two zombies at their rear, pulling Enna with her. Naal and Seraphina drew their own weapons, a sword and whip respectively, and surged forwards. Thorin went to put the cube back into his pocket, but stopped when his eyes caught someone in the crowd. Kathra. He froze in place, eyes wide in horror. His sister. Dead, or all but. And he couldn’t protect her. He looked at Naal and Seraphina in front of him, hacking away at the undead. They scratched, clawed, and tried to bite, but were shoved away. Thorin watched in horror as Naal got closer and closer to Kathra. Her small body was trying to reach past the ones around her, hungry for the half-elf’s flesh. Naal cut down the undead next to her, and drove his sword into her midsection. Her hand extended out, clawing at the air, trying to reach him. He removed his sword, and she fell to the ground. Yet her body never lay still. It continuously twitched, and eventually she began to rise. In fact, all the undead were rising. Thorin looked over to Seraphina who was battling a familiar looking dwarf. Arvin. As she fought, fallen undead grabbed at her legs and body. She looked down in shock, and tried to kick away their hands, but to no avail. She soon fell to the ground screaming, enveloped by bodies. Naal fought longer, but soon met the same fate. Then the undead turned to Thorin, Kathra leading the pack. “Get behind us!” Enna said. She and Illiyana stepped in front of Thorin, swords covered in flaky dried blood, and faced the oncoming horde. Thorin glanced at the ground behind him, and saw the dismembered bodies of her fallen foes. Arms, legs, and heads separated from the torsos; all of it twitching. As they began to fight, Thorin gripped the cube, and shut his eyes. For the first time in his life he felt true fear. But his fear was overwhelmed by immense guilt and pain. Things he hadn’t felt for the first time. Thorin felt the feelings rush throughout his body. Through his chest, arms, hands, fingers, and into -- the cube? It began to hum in his hands, glowing a dull blue. Then it began to shake, and glow brighter. Illiyana and Enna paused her fighting to look back, and they immediately ducked. Thorin raised the cube above his head, and looked at it with a curious fascination. Suddenly, it exploded. A solid beam of light shot out from all sides. It was blinding, and Thorin only saw the warlock disappear in a puff of smoke before he was forced to shut his eyes.

When he opened them, Illiyana and Enna were still crouched on the ground, arms covering their faces. He touched them gently, and they both surveyed the scene around them. The warlock was gone, and piles of dust were in place of where the zombies had been. Vaporized by the cube, Thorin thought. Scorch marks lined the stone walls of the alley at the level Thorin had been holding it. He was relieved for a moment. But where’s Kathra? A pile of dust? “I killed her,” Thorin said. “I killed her.” Illiyana looked at him sadly, tears in her eyes.

“It was them, Thorin. Not you,” she said. “We can still stop them.” Enna stood there, watching him silently.

“I need to find Helja.”

“If we don’t stop House Rosner, you’ll both die.”

“Don’t you understand!” Tears streamed freely down Thorin’s eyes. “If I lose her, I’m already dead! I’d be nothing more than, than, than those things!” Illiyana said nothing. Thorin stood there, panting, cheeks red and fists clenched. “Good luck. Both of you.” Enna raised a hand in farewell, and Thorin walked off, leaving the pair standing there, watching him leave.

The walk to Kolath’s bakery was a long one. By the time Thorin arrived, the sun was beginning to rise, basking the city in a warm orange glow. Several people were out on the street too; either going to work or coming back from a night at the tavern. Thorin barely noticed them. He made it to the bakery, and saw Kolath towards the back cleaning tables. There were no candles lit, and the only light came from the pale rays of the rising sun; he was surprised Kolath could see. He knocked on the door loudly, and saw Kolath look up from inside, then put his head back down and continue cleaning. Maybe he couldn’t see him at the door. He knocked again, louder. This time Kolath didn’t even acknowledge the sound. He’ll forgive me, Thorin thought, and he took out his dirk, and pried the door open, breaking the lock. Kolath looked up in alarm.

“Thorin! What are you doing!” he yelled, distraught over his door.

“Kolath, where’s Helja?” Thorin asked. Kolath’s expression softened, and he seemed anxious. Because of Thorin’s urgency, of course.

“Um, I don’t know. Did something happen to her?” he asked. Thorin cursed.

“No, uh, I don’t know, I sent her away after Arvin’s murder, she might be in danger.”

“Well, she never made it here,” Kolath said, a concerned look still on his face. Thorin’s eyes sharpened.

“What do you mean, ‘she never made it here,” he said, pointing his dirk at Kolath. “When did I say she was coming here?” Kolath held up his hands. A flash of panic darted through his eyes.

“You know, I just mean like, she never came here. Not that she was coming.” He chuckled awkwardly, and gave Thorin a weak smile.

“No, I don’t know. Where is she, Kolath?” There was a warning note in Thorin’s voice, and Kolath heard it. He suddenly dropped his hands and abandoned the nervous, innocent act. He smiled again, this time a true smile.

“Oh, Thorin. I didn’t want you to find out this way. The warlock told me all about your little adventures through the city, and I’ll let you know right now. If you want Helja to live, you’ll stop interfering.”

“What are you talking about?” Thorin asked, suddenly fearful.

“Oh, you were just a little too late. The warlock just came by to pick her up. He figured she’d be good leverage.” Thorin stepped back in disbelief.

“Kolath. Why?”

“Ah, you wouldn’t understand. The warlock, well, he can be pretty convincing. He had me poison some goods with anti-sleeping potions; says it helps him turn people. Whatever that means.” Kolath shrugged. “Regardless of what he’s doing, I’m getting what I want.”

“And what’s that?” Thorin asked.

“It’s of no matter. The point is, he has Helja. If you want her back, stop this silly little chase.” Kolath looked behind him, and turned back to Thorin smiling. He believed the back exit was back there, but couldn’t be sure; the layout to the bakery wasn’t something he was familiar with.

“You going to run out your little escape route, Kolath?” Thorin asked. “Do you seriously think I’m going to let you leave without telling me where he took Helja?” Kolath kept smiling. It was getting annoying.

“I won’t need to escape. See Thorin, I’ve just been stalling. Luckily, someone’s arrived. The first customer!” The warlock stepped into Thorin’s view, standing behind Kolath.

“Hello, Thorin,” he said. “If all goes well tomorrow, your sister will be returned safe and sound. If not, she dies. Your choice.” Thorin screamed and charged toward them with his dirk. The warlock put his hand on Kolath’s soldier, and they disappeared in a puff of smoke. Thorin slashed at the air hopelessly.

He was sitting at a table, spinning the dirk around in his hands, when Illiyana and Enna arrived. “She’s gone,” he said, not looking up. “The warlock took her. Kolath helped her.”

“Why?” Enna asked. She and Illiyana sat down next to him.

“They said if I didn’t interfere, they’d let her go.”

“Are you? Going to interfere?” Illiyana asked.

“I don’t know.” He sighed, and dropped his dirk on the table.

“Well,” Illiyana said. “The good news is I think I know what’s going on. Have you ever heard of the tragedy of House Rosner?” Thorin shook his head. “Not many do. Lord Rosner had it buried pretty deep. Not very long ago, his daughter got in trouble for sleeping with a commoner. At the time, she was betrothed to a prince, and to get out of it, she accused the man of raping her. Her mother had the man executed. Unfortunately for them, the man’s mother was a witch. She requested an audience with the family, and met with Lord Rosner, his wife, and the princess. Only one other person was present; Lord Rosner’s attendant. He was executed after revealing what happened there. The witch banished the queen to the dimension of the undead, and trapped the princess inside an object. After destroying his family, she gave Lord Rosner a prophecy. That’s the one I heard; ‘The curse of the princess can only be broken by the sacrifice of a queen under lightning, thunder, fire, and frost.’ The queen isn’t a queen, and the princess wasn’t yet a princess, but oh well. It sounded cooler I guess. So Lord Rosner sought out his wife to release his daughter from her prison. That’s why he hired the warlock. He knows how to travel through dimensions. But to find her in the dimension of the undead he needed, well, the undead. So he kidnapped people throughout the city, transformed them, and then used them to find her. She was the person in the alley.” Thorin tried to speak, but was interrupted. “That’s why he hired the half-orc. The rats have been swarming this area of the city, because of all the corpses. When they attack the undead, they get bit and turned themselves, so the warlock needed someone to capture the transformed rats, and keep everything under wraps. It all makes sense!”

“Okay, okay,” Thorin said, shaking his head. “Then why don’t we just leave them alone? He’ll kill his wife, get his daughter back, and everything will be good.” Illiyana shot him a dirty look.

“For one, they’ve killed a lot of people. Neither can get away with it. But I think there’s more to that prophecy. The witch would’ve never given Lord Rosner a chance to save the one who murdered her son. If that curse is broken, an even worse one will be released. And it all comes from the cube.” She looked at Thorin, and nodded her head. He took it out of his pocket, and held it in front of him. “I believe the princess is locked in that cube with the curse. That’s why it shot out that beam of, of whatever it was. When you feel a negative emotion and touch the cube, the power of the curse is released. If the princess were to escape… I don’t know. Maybe that same beam of energy would shoot out, but on a much bigger scale. It could destroy every living thing in the city. The witch never wanted Lord Rosner to have a chance to free his daughter. She gave him the chance, but made sure he’d pay the ultimate price if he ever did, because it’s not the right thing to do.” Thorin placed the cube on the table carefully.

“So I shouldn’t touch it?” he asked.

“Only if you can’t control your emotions. After you saw Kathra, all of your negative emotions were channeled into the cube, and that resulted in the curse coming out wildly in all directions. If you could control those emotions, maybe you’d be able to harness the power, and direct it.” Thorin didn’t think he wanted to try that.

“Okay, but how did I get it?” he asked. Illiyana had an answer for that too.

“The same attendant who revealed the conspiracy must’ve managed to smuggle the cube out of Lord Rosner’s possession. That’s how it ended up in that pile of wood you found. And that’s why the attendant was executed; Lord Rosner couldn’t find the cube, and the attendant was the only one who knew about it.”

“So there’s been a person living inside my most prized possession,” he said, staring suspiciously at the cube on the table. “And if Lord Rosner kills his wife, another lady’s going to pop out of it.”

“Yes. And it’ll level the city,” Enna said. “Lord Rosner doesn’t know that, and I doubt he’ll listen to us. So we need to stop him first.”

“Right,” Illiyana said. “So, anybody know when he’ll do it?”

“The public execution at dawn,” he said, looking up. “Rosner will be hoping we’ll attend. That way he can get his daughter right back.”

“Makes sense,” Illiyana said. “So we’ll be there.” Enna nodded. “You coming, Thorin?” He thought for a moment, and picked the cube back up, surveying it in his hands. Then he stood up, and dropped it in his pocket.

“I am.” Enna and Illiyana smiled.

“Let’s get going then,” Illiyana said, leading the way out the door. “It’s almost dawn.”

The execution was being held in the center of town. Lady Rosner was tied to a pyre atop a dais with a gag in her mouth. Lord Rosner was sitting on a raised platform with the warlock and Kolath by his side. The square was filled with people talking quietly. House Rosner soldiers patrolled the crowd in large numbers. Thorin surveyed the sight, looking for the criteria of the prophecy. A light snow was falling, typical for a winter in Esterstin; that’s the frost. Drummers were located around the area, playing loudly; that’s thunder. And the bonfire, which would be the end of Lady Rosner would obviously be the fire. But where was the lightning? Illiyana thought the same thing.

“No lightning. It’s gotta be something,” she muttered to herself. Thorin looked up at the sky. Driftglobes were floating around aimlessly, clustered above the pyre. He recalled the previous day when he’d encountered one while working on a roof. It had shocked him. Not only with how low down it was, but it had literally shocked him.

“That’s it,” he whispered to Illiyana and Enna, pointing to the driftglobes in the sky. “A driftglobe shocked me yesterday. They’re the lightning.” They both nodded, and continued watching. Thorin looked back over to Lord Rosner, and saw him mutter something to Kolath. Kolath bowed, and left, heading to the stairs behind the platform. “That’s our chance,” he said. “Get Kolath alone. He’ll tell us where Helja is.”

“I’ll catch him,” Illiyana said. “You guys follow.” She began running after him, but stayed low to hide from the guards. Thorin and Enna hurried to keep up. Kolath went into an alley walking quickly; the perfect place to corner him. He jumped when he saw Illiyana behind him, his eyes wide with surprise, and began to sprint away. But his short legs were no match for Illiyana’s wings and her long stride, and she soon caught up to him, tackling him to the ground. Thorin and Enna caught up shortly after, panting.

“Let him get up,” Thorin said. Kolath was struggling on the ground under Illiyana’s knee. She removed it, and he scrambled to get up. When he got to his feet, Thorin walked forward and grabbed him by the collar. He shoved him against the wall of the alley, and pressed the edge of his dirk against his neck. “What were you doing for the exalted Lord Rosner, Kolath?” he asked. Kolath trembled, and let out a small whimper.

“Just getting him a pastry. My lord,” he said, adding the last bit at the end hurriedly. Thorin smiled.

“I suppose he’ll have to go without it,” he said. “So, where’s Helja?” Kolath said nothing. “Come on, you were so talkative at the bakery!” Thorin pressed his dirk harder on his neck. A line of blood began to form from the pressure.

“Fine!” Kolath said, in tears. “She’s at the villas. Uh, Raventree and Rosznar. She’s being held there in one of the basements. Rosznar, I think!” Thorin remained stoic, trying to not look relieved.

“Great. Thanks for your help, Kolath.” Kolath seemed to grow heavier in Thorin’s hand as much of the tension left his body. The rest of the tension left when he slit Kolath’s throat, sending him falling face down on the ground in a pool of blood. Illiyana and Enna said nothing. Neither seem surprised. Thorin wiped his dirk on Kolath’s tunic, and stood back up, still remaining stoic.

“He deserved it,” Enna said, touching Thorin’s shoulder.

“Agreed. There was nowhere to tie him up too,” Illiyana said. Thorin looked down at the ground.

“Good point,” he said. “But more than that, like Enna said, he deserved it. How could someone do that to her? Helja’s the sweetest, most innocent, person on this planet. Kolath had no soul.”

“I’ll get her back,” Illiyana said. Thorin began to speak, but she held up her hand. “I can get there faster. And you and Enna need to stay here to stop the execution. I’m too noticeable, but the guards won’t catch you.” He nodded.

“Save her,” he said, looking her in the eyes.

“I will,” she said, holding his gaze. Then she ran off, heading towards the villas.

Thorin and Enna made their way back to the square. More people had arrived, and they had to shove their way through the crowd. A presenter was rattling off Lady Rosner’s crimes to the crowd. Mara Lackman had been a hermit living in the woods beyond the city. She’d gone crazy from the isolation, and had gone on a murder spree throughout the city on Sledo. Hence the violent method of death. Among the names of the people she murdered were Kathra Strakeln and Arvin Layabout. An elegant solution, but it filled Thorin with rage. “It’s starting soon,” he said to Enna. “You kill the warlock and Lord Rosner, I’ll save the queen.” She nodded agreement, and went over to the platform. He watched her go, and then turned to the dais. A masked man was lighting a large torch much to the struggling Lady Rosner’s dismay. Cheers rose from the audience when they saw, urging the executioner to kill the one who’d killed their friends. Thorin acted quickly. He tore through the crowd, ducking through legs and torsos, and ran right past the guards surrounding the dais before they could stop him. The executioner had his back turned to him, and he drove his knife upward towards the heart. The man dropped the torch into the small fire, and then fell in himself, already dead. The crowd fell silent. Thorin looked to the platform and saw the warlock rising from his seat, ready to perform some terrifying magic. He had wanted his fate to be in battle, but so be it. But Enna arrived right in time to give that a chance to happen, and slit the warlock's throat from behind. He clawed at the blood spilling out, and fell off the platform, drowning. Then chaos erupted. The mass of people began to panic, and ran around aimlessly, screaming all the while. Guards swarmed to Lord Rosner’s defense, and the rest were engulfed by a storm of bodies. None were worried about the small dwarf and harmless looking murderer on the dais. Enna looked like she was going after Lord Rosner, but thought better of it as guards came to his side in great numbers. She jumped down from the platform, and blended in with the crowd, making her way to Thorin and Lady Rosner.

“I’m going to get you out of here, Lady Rosner,” Thorin said, stepping carefully over the piles of straw and wood used for the never-to-be fire. He cut her gag, and the ropes around her hands and feet, and led her off of the dais. Enna met them on the ground, and they made their way out of the square, unnoticed.

“Where are we going?” Lady Rosner asked fearfully.

“The villas,” Thorin said. He had no wish to speak to this woman.

“Raventree and Rosznar?! Oh, not back there! Please!” She pulled against him, trying to free herself from his grip, but Thorin held on, and continued walking. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked, tears streaming down her face.

“First, we’re going to free Thorin’s sister,” Enna said, nodding in his direction. “Then we’re going to try and kill your husband. If we can’t do that, we’re going to kill you.”

“Why? What have I done? Why is my husband trying to kill me? Please, spare me!” She cried out, and Thorin slapped her across the face, stopping in the middle of the road.

“Get a hold of yourself. We just saved your life. We could and probably should kill you right now, but we aren’t. If you continue acting like this we will. Or you can come along quietly, and we’ll explain on the way.” Lady Rosner looked at him solemnly.

“Yes sir,” she said. “Lead the way.”

When they arrived at the villas, Lady Rosner had been suitably chastised. She’d taken on an air of failure and regret. Dried tears plastered her face; she hadn’t bothered to wipe any. Thorin had been surprised at how well she’d taken everything; maybe the dimension of the undead had helped her character. “Which one is Rosznar?” he asked Enna.

“This one,” she said, pointing to the nicer of the two villas. “If they’re still here, they’ll be in the basement.” The trio made their way to the front entrance. Lights were on throughout the building, and as they got closer they began to hear voices. Shouting, and what sounded like the clang of swords. Thorin broke into a run, quickly followed by Enna and Lady Rosner. He shoved open the door to see Illiyana backed into a corner surrounded by four House Rosner soldiers. Helja was cowering behind her. Multiple bodies lay on the floor, all cut up by Illiyana’s sword. She saw Thorin come in, and gave him a wink, smiling. Then she launched herself into battle, throwing herself at the nearest two soldiers. They backed up under her assault, and the other two circled around for the kill. But they hadn’t seen Thorin or Enna. The two of them charged from the entrance, and took the soldiers unaware, cutting them both down from behind. Illiyana had already lopped the head off of one soldier, and the sole survivor looked over after hearing his two remaining comrades be killed. His head met the same fate. Illiyana fell to the ground, and sprawled out, panting. Enna rushed over to her, checking for wounds, but Illiyana waved her away; she was just tired. Thorin sheathed his sword, and looked at Helja who was surveying him from the corner. He stood still for a moment, just watching her, and then rushed forward, throwing himself into her arms. She silently cried into his own shoulder, and he whispered comforts in her ear, reunited with his sister at last. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he got up, bringing Helja to her feet with him.

“I’m so sorry,” Lady Rosner said simply. She bent down, and enveloped Helja in a massive hug. Helja glanced over at Thorin, confused, and he just shrugged, smiling. “My husband is going to pay for this,” she said.

“Am I, dear?” a voice called out from the entrance to the villa. It was Lord Rosner, tall and menacing in full chain armor. A massive longsword hung at his side, and he carried a shield in his left hand, covered in his blue bear claw insignia. A platoon of about twenty soldiers came in behind him followed by fifteen undead. The warlock’s fallen men prepared to exact revenge. “Lureene!” Lord Rosner said. “You’re going to come with me now. To save our daughter.” Lady Rosner released her grip on Helja, and stood tall to face him.

“I am not,” she said. For the first time since he’d met her, she sounded like a true lady. Hell, she sounded like a queen, maybe the witch was right. “Randal, how can you not realize? Our daughter was, or is, evil. We corrupted her. She’s beyond saving.” Lord Rosner stomped his foot defiantly.

“You don’t know that! Give me a chance, I can change her. You just need to… I’ll miss you, but it’s for our daughter.” Lady Rosner seemed to waver a little bit, and her lip trembled slightly.

“You know I would. Without a second's hesitation. But these people have told me what will happen if you open the cube. The city, Randal. The city will be destroyed. The witch never wanted us to free our daughter. We were never supposed to! And we’ll be punished if we do!”

“That blasted witch,” Lord Rosner said. “What, she’s corrupted your mind from beyond the grave? Did you meet her in that, that, wherever the hell you were? Or is it these nobodies? All they care about is getting revenge! For what I had to do!” He sighed. “Those with the heaviest burdens have the heaviest consciousnesses. If you won’t hand yourself over, I’ll take you. And none of you try to kill her first, or you’ll all die slow, painful deaths!” He snapped at the small army behind him, and motioned for them to advance. “Take the queen. Kill the other four.” Lady Rosner turned to them immediately.

“Kill me,” she said. “Kill me now!” The soldiers and undead were running forward, and they had little time. Illiyana had a pained look in her eyes, but raised her sword nevertheless.

“Wait!” Thorin told her. “Get behind me. All of you.” He couldn’t let another innocent person die; Lady Rosner had changed for the better. He’d given her a chance, and she’d taken it. She deserved to live. Illiyana looked like she was going to defy him, but then lowered her sword. She nodded her head, and he stepped forward, taking the cube out of his pocket as he went. Helja tried to go with him, but Enna held her back. He stepped in front of his friends and family, and held the cube out in front of him, facing towards the charging army only a few feet away. Thoughts and emotions raced through his mind. Fear of the undead, fear of losing what he loved. Anger at Lord Rosner, and the situation he’d been put in. The immense loss he felt from losing Kathra that could never be filled. The feeling that he was responsible for her death, that he let her down. He closed his eyes, and embraced all those emotions, trying to harness them, control them. Then Helja and Kathra’s faces flashed through his mind, as sharp as his dirk. They smiled at him, and he smiled back. And just like that, he felt all those emotions flow through his body. Like before, they went through his chest, arm, hand, fingers, and into the cube. But this time he could control it. He focused the blast into the front of the cube, so it faced the attacking forces, and a blue light exploded from that end, nearly knocking him backwards. A solid wall, several feet high, washed over everything in front of him, before disappearing in the morning air. When his eyes cleared, Thorin saw nothing but a pile of ash where the soldiers and the front half of the villa had been. He felt full and whole, yet his hand felt strangely empty.

“It’s gone,” Illiyana said, staring at Thorin’s hand. The cube was gone, and his fingers were slowly turning from white to red. He’d been gripping it hard. Helja got up, and hugged him even harder. He hugged her back fiercely. 

“Is Kathra really gone?” she signed to him, stepping back so he could see.

“She is,” he said. “I failed her.” Helja paused for a moment, saddened. Then she signed something else.

“You didn’t fail me.” She rushed back into his arms, and they both broke into tears.

The author's comments:

All set!

A ladle of soup was staring at Thorin when he awoke. Helja gave a quick jump when she saw him awake, and the soup spilled on his bare chest. Illiyana looked up from her book in the corner of the room, smiling.

“Good to see you awake, Thorin,” she said. Helja signed agreement.

“How long was I out?” he asked, rubbing his head. He felt drained, and even sitting up was a struggle.

“Two days. Using that cube took a lot out of you.” Illiyana sighed. “Everything worked out though. Lady Rosner took control of her new house, and cleaned up everything as best she could. Compensated the families of those who’d lost people. You included.”

“Enna?” he asked.

“Left the city. Went to start a new life somewhere, losing Carlin was hard. Said to give her regards.” Helja passed him the soup, and he spooned it into his mouth eagerly. Pork and vegetables, his favorite. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Illiyana said, standing up.

“You’re leaving?” Helja signed, concerned. Illiyana smiled.

“Well, I’ll still be here in the city. We’ll see each other around.” She suddenly remembered something, and reached into her pocket. “One thing. I found this in the basement of Rosznar villa. I thought it was yours at first. Helja told me it’s your sister’s.” She held out a dirk to him, identical to his. The one Kathra had bought not so long ago. She looked at Thorin sadly. “Thank you for what you did.” He nodded. They waved goodbye and she left, stooping under the door frame on her way out.

“Your crew is excited to see you again,” Helja signed, trying to cheer Thorin up. “You’ve been hired to repair Rosznar villa. Ironic, no?” He smiled at her.

“Very. There’s one thing we need to do first, though.”

He understood why Kathra had liked her job. The mine was bustling with activity, the perfect environment for her. And the miners were friendly too; many stopped by to pay their respects to the two dwarves kneeling at a freshly dug grave. Some knew Kathra, some didn’t, but they stopped nevertheless. Thorin looked at the packed dirt, wishing there was more than a single dirk where her body should’ve been. But then he looked up at the gravestone. “Kathra Strakeln,” it said. “Beloved sister.” His sister. He gripped Helja’s hand beside him, and the two sat there, heads bowed, till the last rays of day left, leaving them in darkness.



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