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In The Mist Of The Erie Isles

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Five: The Unanswered Question Pt. 2

Turning his head toward the sound of the voice, Valan can see a man in black robes, standing beside an altar that bears a large tome. The man moves slowly around the altar, lifting his frail hands and pulling back the hood. The elderly human is balding, with his remaining hairs as white as snow. Clean shaven, he seems grandfatherly and unassuming. Slowly and menacingly, the man pulls out a kris. He wields the wavy dagger, smiling sinisterly at his living prisoner.

“Was... Was this you?!" Valan gasps.

“It is me! Present tense." The man chuckles. “Finally! We have a new visitor! I was beginning to worry that my minions weren't doing so well!" He chuckles.

“Ooohh, and he's a handsome one, too!" A soft, if somewhat squeaky, female voice coos.

“I'm Mardin, and I need you to walk that way..." The old man demands.

With the dagger pressing into Valan's side, the elderly human leads his captive. This man must be a necromancer, a practitioner of the dark magic, Haze. What else could be responsible for such atrocities as the ghouls? Pushing Valan toward a series of poles, he's struck by a startling sight. The cooing female is a young Falmun girl, lashed to one of the five wooden pillars. At barely four feet and nine inches tall, the dainty figure couldn't possibly weigh more than ninety pounds. Her spindly arms are bound at her wrists, but her slender legs are left untouched.

Her chest has what appear to be budding, A-cup breasts, while her clothes don't seem all that unusual for a teenage Falmun. Pushed against a vacant pole, the zombie holds Valan at axe-point, while the necromancer binds his hands in a similar fashion to the Falmun child. Turning his head toward the dainty creature, Valan, who was preparing to calm the child, is immediately struck by how she stares so intensely at him. Her ruby red eyes almost glow, as do her pearly white teeth, revealed by her lustful smile.

Her golden hair, which accents her tanned skin rather well, is wavy and parted down the middle, reaching to her shoulders. Her pointy elven ears poke through her gleaming locks. Something strikes him as he looks her over, however. Something other than the strange, downright inappropriate gaze that she gives him; her figure is a little too developed, even for her youthful looks. Her curves are too curvy.

“So... Do you like ropes?" She suddenly asks.

“I'm sorry?" Valan raises a brow.

“Don't start, you!" Mardin sighs with frustration.

“But look at him! He's so cute!" She whimpers.

“What's going on?!" Valan looks between the two living beings.

“I would love to have him ravaging me right now." The girl sighs.

“WHAT?!" Valan gasps.

“What did I just say?!" Mardin growls, glaring at the girl.

“You know you want to watch, old man." She winks at Mardin. “Just untie him. I don't mind if he takes me like this."

“Hah!" Mardin laughs. “You need to knock off this foolishness before I change my schedule."

“But he'll love it!" She exclaims.

“Says who?!" Valan retorts.

“... Are you saying you don't want me?" The elven girl pouts, jutting out her bottom lip.

“Hell no! What are you anyway? Eleven? Twelve?"

“Rrrrr!" She growls in anger, flexing her biceps as she pulls in vain at her ropes. “I hate that! Why can't I just look like other women?! ... I'm forty-five, you insensitive jerk..."

“Wha-?! ... No way!" Valan snickers.

“It's true." Mardin interjects. “I don't know if she's really forty-five, but I can feel her life force. She's definitely an adult; mid-twenties, at least."

“Yeah, yeah..." The childlike woman rolls her ruby eyes. “I was cute when I was a girl, but then I just... Stayed that way. Do you know what it's like, looking prepubescent your whole life?"

“No." Valan murmurs.

“It's horrible! I can't even remember the last time a grown man willingly touched me! I want to be touched so badly... Held and made to feel loved... It's absolutely maddening." The youthful woman begins to softly cry.

“Damn..." A guilt-ridden Valan sighs. “I'm sorry."

“Well, don't fret, little one. I'm going to cut you open soon enough, and we'll figure out what makes you so youthful!" Mardin says in a disturbingly soft tone, stroking her cheek. “Maybe I can create a youth potion... Or something."

“Great... Years without any passion, and now I get to die in this pit." She grumbles.

Hanging her head, Valan feels intense pity for the small creature. He looks over her form once more, noting her exceptionally small size. As an adult Falmun, she should be at least five feet and two inches tall, the average for her admittedly smaller, elven race. He only now fully grasps the agony that she must be enduring. With a maximum lifespan of one hundred and twenty years, that's an exceptionally long time to endure the body of a child. How will she ever marry and have children? Could she even give birth at her size, without risking death? Valan's heart weighs heavy. Turning her head, the Falmun woman sees his expression.

“Since we're going to die anyway, I'm Mairlynn."

“Valan." He speaks softly.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Valan." She faintly smiles.

“Likewise, Mairlynn."

Valan smiles back, hoping to comfort her as they stand tied to poles, in the heart of the necromancer's den. With her smile widening, Mairlynn's eyes look Valan over once more. Her lips curl sinisterly at the corners as her eyes narrow.

“Are you sure you haven't changed your mind?" She suddenly asks.

“What? No!"

“Oh, come on!" She coos, wriggling her little body against the pole. “You'll enjoy yourself. I promise!"

“I don't doubt that..." He snickers. “That's not what's bothering me, though."

“Pleeease?" She sweetly begs. “You can be my daddy!"

“Ew..."

“Or would you rather be my uncle?"

“Please, stop, before I cut your tongue out." Mardin sighs.

“That's uh..." Valan cringes.

“I've read that some guys like that kind of stuff! Come on, 'Uncle Kobin'. Daddy's not home. I'm all yours until he comes back!"

“Ugh." Valan shudders. “About that 'cutting out your tongue' thing? Can you do that for my ears?" He asks the necromancer.

“I'm weak and vulnerable, Uncle Kobin. You know you want to feel me!" Mairlynn continues.

“Don't give pet names to my bounties, damnit!" Mardin growls.

“... Bounties?" Valan raises a brow.

“Nevermind. Just shut up, the both of you! ... You're making my head hurt." Mardin grumbles, resting his face in both palms.

“I'll find you in the afterlife, Uncle Kobin. Daddy can't spoil our love." Mairlynn coos.

Turning his head away from her, Valan somehow feels molested by the adult Falmun, who has the face and body of a pre-teen girl.

“Valan?! Valan?!" Kirsta calls out.

“Valan?! Where are you?!" Irzain cups his hands to his mouth.

Using her sword, covered with the rancid blood and putrid flesh of the many zombies she'd killed, she hacks at the smaller branches that block the trail before them. Glancing back, she looks over her shoulder as Irzain continues to call out to their lost companion.

“Hey..."

“Yeah?"

“Thank you, Irzain..."

“For what?" He asks with a smile.

“For not running. I couldn't have survived had you not done what you did." She admits.

“All I did was swiftly shoot two ghouls with my new weapon, then tackle the group of foul beasts assaulting you, giving you time to behead them all." He replies with a smug grin.

“I know it wasn't much..." Kirsta giggles. “But thank you. Sincerely." Her expression changes, becoming serious.

“Don't mention it. You and Valan are the only two people I know. I'm not going to abandon you." Irzain assures her.

“Neither will I... I made a promise, after all!" She exclaims.

“And if you didn't?" He raises a brow.

“Then I'd have left you behind on Shemok." She swiftly replies. “Valan?! Are you here?!" She calls out, swinging her sword at a branch. “Wait... Look."

Kirsta points into the distance. Looking over her shoulder, Irzain can see that she's directing him toward a cave, just in a clearing at the end of the trail.

“That must be it. Come on." She speaks softly.

Moving quickly but quietly toward the cave, they pass the corpses of several undead. Lying in the dirt is one of Valan's custom built pistols. The ornate, blued steel weapon, with silver inlays and accents, sits with the hammer down on its large percussion cap. It's clearly been fired. Footprints in the dirt move into the cave.

“Well... It seems we have a choice to make. Find the docks or find Valan." Kirsta poses, looking into the darkness.

Without answering her, Irzain lifts his crossbow pistol and steps into the cave. Springing to her feet, Kirsta catches up to Irzain before passing him in the tunnel.

“Are you sure you're ready for this fight? You only just learned to use that thing." She whispers.

“I'm a lethally quick study." Irzain quips.

Hearing the now familiar sound of a ghoul shambling down the hall, Irzain takes aim and pulls the trigger. As the zombie emerges from beyond the corner, its struck in the forehead with the bolt from his crossbow pistol, dropping dead on the ground.

“I can see that..." Kirsta grins.

With his head tilted back, Mardin, the necromancer, seems to stare at the ceiling of the chamber. Valan watches him closely, his eyes narrowed. The necromancer has held that position for some time now.

“What's he doing?"

“I don't know." Mairlynn sighs. “He does that for hours on end. I can never snap him out of it... It gets lonely, standing here with no one to talk to."

Looking at the elven woman, Valan can see the sorrow on her youthful face.

“Hey..."

Mairlynn lifts her head, looking toward him.

“We're going to get out of this, Mairlynn."

“Are we?" She snickers.

“Don't lose hope."

“It's hard not to, when you've spent the last two days tied to this pole." She replies.

“Why has he kept you for so long?"

“Besides my stunning beauty?" She quips.

“Yeah..." Valan softly chuckles. “Besides that."

“He's looking for someone. He told me that he'd 'study' me as soon as he caught him."

“Who's he looking for?"

Mairlynn shrugs her shoulders.

“Some man wanted by the kingdom. He didn't say who or for what, but he sent his gross army to catch him. By some luck, the idiot managed to find his way onto this island, too! I'll tell you this right now, if that bastard doesn't kill me quick, I'll haunt him for the rest of his days." Mairlynn continues.

Resting his head against the pole, Valan waits for something to happen. He stares at the ceiling, finding funny shapes in all of the many flickering lights.

“What're you doing here, anyway?" She suddenly asks.

“I live here."

“Really?! This is Widoval right? You're from the castle?!"

“Yes, to all of those. My father is... Was Falidad, the Lord of Widoval." Valan answers.

“Well, I'm honored, my Lord." She playfully bows her head.

“Where are you from?" He turns his head to look at her.

“You wouldn't have heard of it. It was tiny, nothing special island not far from here. It started when someone began digging up the graves... Then they came... We were one of the only Falmun families on the island. As we fled, they killed them all, then one of those disgusting, walking corpses looked at me. Instead of putting me out of my misery, it dragged me off. I think when Mardin does that little pose, he's looking through them. He felt my adult life-force and brought me here."

“I'm sorry."

“It's alright, Valan... Did you want to comfort me?" She asks with an innocent and childlike tone.

“Oh, uh... I would. Honestly... Buuuut..." Valan pauses to pull at his ropes.

“Rraaagh-!" A ghoul's voice is cut short.

Drawn to the sound, Valan and Mairlynn look toward the tunnel entrance. Suddenly, Mardin comes out of his trance.

“Oh, no. Oh, no." He repeats again and again.

Taking out his kris, he hides near the mouth of the tunnel, waiting for them. Looking into the tunnel, the bound prisoners have an exceptional view. Kirsta and Irzain approach, their weapons at the ready. Seeing Mardin's prisoners, Irzain begins to move in, seemingly forgetting the possibility of any further threats. Mardin readies his dagger.

“Mardin! What're you doing!" Valan shouts.

Drawing the necromancer's attention, as well as that of his companions, Valan can't help but grin when Kirsta moves around the corner, swiftly knocking the wavy blade from Mardin's hand. He darts away, looking for another weapon. He grabs a torch, throwing it at Kirsta, who smacks it in mid-air with her sword, causing it to fly away from her. He picks up his dagger as Irzain takes aim.

“Wait!" Mardin shouts.

Irzain doesn't hesitate. He pulls the trigger, shooting a bolt into Mardin's chest, just below his neck. The bolt severs his throat as it buries itself into his spine. Falling in a heap, Mardin's minions begin to arrive. Swiftly reloading, Irzain and Kirsta turn back toward the tunnel. Struggling to breathe, Mardin can no longer move. A candle ignites his robe, slowly engulfing him in flames. Waiting for the inevitable battle, Kirsta and Irzain watch as several pairs of glowing, green eyes come into view. Suddenly, they fade, and the creatures fall apart. What's just happened? They turn back to Valan and the strange girl, who remain tied to their poles.

“I think he's dead. Those monsters are bound to him." Mairlynn speaks.

“Bound?" Kirsta raises a brow.

Glancing over to the necromancer's corpse, they're horrified to see his upper half engulfed in flames. With a bundle of wood and unused candles and torches only a foot away, they rush to put out the flames.

“Quick! Drag him away from that kindling!" Kirsta shouts. “We don't want him to smoke us out, after he's already died!"

As they drag him into the middle of the room, by his ankles, a scroll falls out of a pocket sewn into his black robes.

“Get that scroll!" Valan shouts.

Catching fire as his burning arm brushes it, Irzain is quick to stomp on the scroll, putting out the fire.

“What is it?" Kirsta asks.

“I don't know. Hopefully answers." Valan replies.

Looking toward the pair, Irzain furls his brow as he slowly opens the charred scroll. Kirsta, meanwhile, races toward Valan and the girl. Choosing the child first, she uses Mardin's own dagger to cut her ropes free.

“Don't worry, child. I'll get you out of there." She says.

“Child..." Mairlynn sighs.

To Irzain's shock and horror, he opens the scroll and finds that he's looking at a wanted poster. Turning it over and opening the scroll further, he is, in fact, holding a wanted poster for himself. Beneath the highly detailed, hand-drawn image of his face is a brief description and his value; the crown will pay 250,000 vasariks to whoever brings him in alive. His name and crimes, however, which would've been at the bottom of the scroll, have been burned away.

“Well? What is it?" Kirsta asks, cutting the last rope and freeing Mairlynn.

Unable to speak, he turns the document over, revealing it to them.

“It's... You! But what's it say underneath?" Kirsta asks.

“It says 'wanted by the crown'..." Valan answers.

“Wanted?! For what?!" Kirsta growls.

“I don't know... It's burned away..." Irzain replies, examining the document.

“And, of course, you don't remember." She snickers.

“I really don't! I don't know why any of this is happening, but I want to!" Irzain pleads.

Kirsta storms up to him, the kris in her hand.

“You're lucky I made a promise..." She snarls, holding the tip to his throat. “We're going to find out what's going on here, and then we're going to settle it... I want to know why someone would destroy my life, just to get to you."

“Me too!" Valan angrily interjects.

“Me three!" Mairlynn joins in.

Returning to Valan, Kirsta lifts the dagger.

“Wait!" Mairlynn grabs her arm.

“What is it, child?" Kirsta speaks sweetly.

“He owes me something." Mairlynn swiftly lies.

“I do?" Valan raises a brow.

“Uh-huh!" She nods gleefully, a lustful grin crossing her lips.

“Collect it after I free him." Kirsta retorts, bringing the dagger to his ropes.

“Thank you. I'm so glad you got away."

“... Got away?" Kirsta pauses.

“Yeah! You said 'run', so I thought you all ran off." Valan replies.

“You took off?!" Kirsta grows angry.

“Well, yeah... You said to..." Valan whimpers.

“I wasn't talking to you! I was talking to Irzain, and do you know what?! Irzain stayed to fight! ... And we won!"

“Oh..." Valan flushes with embarrassment.

“Here you go, sweetie. Collect whatever you want." Kirsta says, passing Mairlynn the kris.

Approaching him, she grins with sinister intentions, staring at his crotch. Her ruby eyes dart in the direction of Kirsta and Irzain. She knows that she can't ask for sex, but she can at least claim some passion.

“Kiss me!" She chirps.

“What?!" Valan chuckles.

Kirsta and Irzain cannot help but laugh.

“You owe me a kiss! A passionate one!"

“Hell no! I don't care if you are forty-five! You look twelve!" He snaps back.

Kirsta and Irzain look between each other with confusion.

“Kiss me or we leave you here like the coward you are." Mairlynn coldly retorts.

“... You wouldn't... Would you?" He looks fearfully at Kirsta.

“Maybe." She smirks.

“... Fine!" He sighs.

“Yay!" Mairlynn exclaims.

Taking a deep breath, he prepares himself. Leaning over, he closes his eyes. Grabbing his shirt collar, Mairlynn leans in and presses their lips together. Forcefully grabbing his chin, she pulls at his jaw. No sooner than his mouth opens, Mairlynn slips her tongue in, gliding it over his. Valan's eyes grow wide from shock. As she enjoys their mixed saliva, Mairlynn's hand releases his jaw and quickly gropes his crotch. She carefully squeezes his genitals through his pants.

“Mmm!" She exclaims through their kiss. “Well, now. That's a pleasant surprise!" She chirps, looking down at his crotch.

“Okay, you had your kiss. Please, please, please cut me loose!" Valan whines.

“Oh alright! ... You big baby." She giggles, still fixated upon his manhood.

Kirsta and Irzain watch with a mixture of shock and amusement as the diminutive elven woman pushes a large brick, a leftover from Mardin's altar, against the pole. She stands atop the brick on her tiptoes, just to reach the ropes holding the human's wrists. With a hard yank, she cuts the largest rope, freeing Valan, who frantically rips at the remaining cordage.

“Are you... Really forty-five?" Kirsta asks her.

“Unfortunately." Mairlynn replies.

Claiming the sheath from Mardin's belt, untouched by the flames, Mairlynn keeps the wavy dagger.

“If they're all dead... Again... We should check the castle. There's supplies that we could use."

“We can help you clean up." Kirsta offers.

“And bury your family." Irzain adds.

“Why? I'm not staying, and I'm not burying anyone. They treated me as well as they treated the dirt we'd be digging up, and I'd hate to disrupt such peaceful soil for their sakes." Valan replies.

“I guess it's just the four of us, then!" Mairlynn chirps, grabbing Valan's arm.

“Yay..." He murmurs, pulling his arm away.

“Don't be like that. You know you liked it, 'Uncle Kobin'." Mairlynn giggles.

Valan and the dainty elven girl leave Mardin's cave, while Kirsta and Irzain stand still. Irzain holds the half-burnt scroll in his hand, staring intently at it. Watching him for a moment, she can see the pain in his eyes. The crushing sorrow of guilt, that he is the cause of all of this, pulls him into an abyss of depression. His pitiful expression startles the warrior, who didn't expect a wanted man to show such sincere remorse. Real tears stream from his reddened eyes. Slipping her sword into the frog on her belt, Kirsta reaches out a hand. Resting it on his shoulder, she gives him a comforting squeeze.

“Whatever you were before, Irzain... I think you're different now... We're going to figure all of this out." She speaks softly.

Walking down the tunnel to catch up to Valan and Mairlynn, Irzain stands alone. He looks toward the tunnel, then back at Mardin's corpse, before turning toward the tunnel once more and wiping his eyes with a shirtsleeve. He takes a deep breath, slowly exhaling through his nostrils.

“Will we?"