The Four

Dead Again

Liandra knew that wouldn’t happen to her, she couldn’t die. Living in this world for close to 700 years had taught her that. She wondered at the purpose of the Four, those who had made them, and what had been their design in the creation.

Liandra knew and knew well that she could not die. She had tried to kill herself a few times in the last 139 years since she had left Enrich in that cave. Others had tried even harder to kill her, all to no avail. She had reached a point in her life where she just didn’t care. Didn’t care about herself, didn’t care about living, didn’t care about the Four, and didn’t care about Enrich.

He had left her, even though she had begged him not to. Sure, in the end it had been her that had walked away first, but it had been at his insistence. At first, she thought that he would come find her. That thought alone had subsisted through the first half a century but had eventually been abandoned along with the rest of her hopes and dreams.

He had well and truly abandoned her, and she was feeling spiteful about it still. She had no idea for the future, no thought of what she would do when the inevitable call came for them to join against the forces of evil again.

Liandra looked around her and thought for what must be the hundredth time, what’s the point in saving all of these people anyway? How were any of them better than the Wanderlocks? These men that traded their fellows as if they were no more than cattle, no, lower even than cattle. Men were the bane of this world just as much if not more so than the Wanderlocks.

Liandra sighed and continued working, at least for as long as she was able to work, she knew that Alenheim’s response to her actions this morning would be swift and severe. She had never pushed him as far as she had today and had no idea why she did. She tried to focus on this a bit, and work it out, but didn’t get the chance. A familiar angry voice rose behind her and called her out.

“b***h! Today you have gone too far, today you will die!” Liandra sighed, she knew that this was going to hurt, and that she would survive it, wake up somewhere else and have to start all over again.

Turning slowly to face Alenheim, she had a weapon at hand. It was a puny piece of wood, but if she was going down she would go down fighting, as she always did.

“You coward!” She spat upon seeing that he had brought the magistrate along with him. “You too afraid to face me by yourself?” she sneered and had the satisfaction of seeing him color and step towards her before the magistrate lay a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“Slave” the magistrate’s voice boomed over the growing crowd, “You stand accused of laying hands on your master, the punishment for this is death.”

He gestured with one hand and a group of guards surrounded Liandra. She smiled and had the satisfaction of seeing more than one of them balk. They weren’t expecting a fight but she would give them a hell of a battle today.

Spreading her feet and lifting her ‘weapon’ even with her shoulder she readied herself. The guards came more warily now, seeing that she was obviously trained. Another smile and then the first guard came up even with her.

He charged in low, intending to grab her about the middle and protecting his head as much as he could. Liandra sneered at such a tactic and a well-placed foot soon ended his charge, his momentum, however, was not done and as her kick had thrown him off of his path he instead went careening into a stack of wooden boxes the slaves had been working to unload. Wood splintered, and the guard landed on the deck dazed.

Liandra turned back to the other guards to find that two of them were attempting to flank her, she grinned and thought ‘not today boys’ and when they charged at her she moved away and let them run into each other instead.

She laughed aloud at the sight before her, the guards were getting frustrated since none of them had yet managed to lay a hand on her.

Enmasse the four that were left came at her, and she did what she could to fight them off. Punches, kicks, her piece of wood in their face, prolonged the fight and she gave as good as she got, but in the end as she knew must be, she was overpowered by sheer numbers and she was pinned to the hard-wooden docks.

Boots on wood approached her prone form, she had stopped struggling but had at last taught the guards caution and not one let up on her. Liandra was unable to raise her head to see who the boots belonged to, and before she could give it too much thought, one boot raised and then came down swiftly on her head. Pain exploded in her brain, and then blessed blackness.