The Tale of Daemonica

Black Rose

In the end, however, it turned out that they would have to wait quite a long time to celebrate. After the meeting, the king's soldiers, who were able to, joined by archers and several mages from the Roses, went to ensure safety around the bridge over the Silver River and patrol the road. The purpose was to cut off the rest of the enemies hiding in the forest and secure access for Xianis’ reinforcements from the east, which they knew from the royal soldiers were already on their way to help restore order to Morghat in his humbled fortress-administered territory. Roses and the rest of Morghat's men, who, for obvious reasons, had no mercy for the remaining invaders hidden in the forest, were in charge of clearing it and securing of the Fire Pass.

As it turned out, Daemonica was quite wrong to think that the strategic hill was left in vain. Below it, the cave that was far larger than she would have guessed, with its innumerable narrow passages and alcoves, was supplied with well-hidden wood, regularly changed food for men and horses, and, to Vidarfry's displeasure, only a few barrels of wine and three mugs of liquor. The liquor was confiscated by the healers for the wounded.

In the late afternoon of the second day, Xianis's cavalry appeared in the east, and after only a short delay drove across the bridge, followed by Morghat and the royals. The Roses kept the bridge and the road safe, looking for possible escapees from Morgath's axes. Because the four of them got along well, they were sent out together for their tasks. After about a week, Daemonica and her friends were to meet Xianis' scouts at a prearranged location to see if they could finally go home. Besides Redviolet, Luciandar joined them on the journey.

The fire was fading. Everyone else was asleep. Despite this, Daemonica could not help but stoke the fire once more. Friends would be warm, and she didn't have to worry about her nightmares waking them.

'Are you never tired?' Luciandar joined her, almost inaudibly. Daemonica was well aware of what he was referring to. But least of all she wanted to talk about herself. Such conversations always ended on the dangerous subject of her own past, so she quickly found a way to change the topic.

'Don't you think the whole Fire Pass situation is highly suspicious?'

'Yes, I do.' Luciandar sat down beside the flaming fire and pulled the hood of his cloak deep into his face. They did not speak again until morning.

In the end, the question of who will pay the expenses was left out, too. After nearly two weeks, they returned to Cedris in the midday sun, and later in the evening were invited to the central building, which the locals called Keep. The large hall on its ground floor was designed so that everyone could sit at the long banquet tables. Beside her, Vidarfry was already reaching for the cup when Thaedis rose.

'Before we move on to the festivities, our honored Annais has something to say.' Thaedis demanded attention in his powerful northern voice. Various reactions swept through the crowd, ranging from impatient grunts, through classic whistles, to the sound of tankards already raised for a toast when, unfortunately, they still hit the wooden tables with a full thud.

'May Morghat's example be a lesson to us all!' Annais, standing at the head of the table, said loudly. To her left sat dazzling Ceneen, to her right the man she had seen on the walls when they had left Cedris a fortnight before. From the features of his dark face, there was no doubt that he was from somewhere in the Xix Wasteland. In contrast, Annais was pale enough to look almost transparent. There was a deep silence in the feast hall.

'And now...Rise Dae!' Annais called out of the blue. A wave of excitement swept through the hall.

'I have received several requests for you to join the Roses Council.' Luciandar, sitting beside Ceneen, nodded to her with a barely perceptible smile. 'Under normal circumstances, it would be too soon. To my own delight, however, I was able to witness that these requests were well founded and therefore I grant them!' Annais raised her goblet, and if Daemonica wouldn’t have to deal with her own feelings, she could not have missed the sigh of relief of all the thirsty people present in the feast hall reaching for their cups.

When Daemonica got the impression that she had been celebrating long enough, she slipped quietly out of the noisy hall. She longed to head to Redviolet's house and finally get some rest. The weariness from many of mostly sleepless nights finally caught up with her. All the moments of the last few days, when she was falling asleep on the back of Rascal, together with the strong wine, had come to her in full force. She went out in front of the entrance to Keep and took a deep breath of cool air. Spring was only just waking up in the foothills, but the shorter its time was here, the more vivid were its colors and smells.

'I haven't had a chance to introduce myself,' came a sweet voice behind her. Daemonica looked back. The reflection of the light from the dying fires in the hanging metal baskets gleamed in the eyes of the man who had sat beside Annais this evening. Like on the walls of Cedris, he was now clad in the orange and black robes of a mage. For just a moment, as two weeks ago in front of the gates, Daemonica hoped that the one she saw was Sorcerer.

'My name is Mehtar and I am a member of the High Council of the Black Rose Society.' Daemonica was surprised by his official tone and the hint of arrogance in his voice. Though she could already identify the senior officers among the Roses, it surely wasn’t because any of them would be alerting her directly to their position.

'It's an honor.' Daemonica woke up and lowered her head slightly. Mehtar, unaware that she resorted to etiquette whenever she found herself in a tight conversation, seemed flattered by the proper display of her respect. Even so, for reasons unknown, Mehtar's presence made her wary.

'I won't hold you long,' Mehtar sensed her mood and, with a casual gesture, invited her to follow. They headed behind the Keep, where high rock loomed over Cedris. It opened into the cave, which no one was guarding.

'Like any member of the Council, you must know the true weight of the responsibility you have accepted today. Out of curiosity, I volunteered to be the one to show you what we're really guarding.' A gold-black cloud-shrouded talisman of indescribable shape appeared suddenly in Mehtar's hand. Daemonica unconsciously touched the amulet under her shirt. Mehtar did not miss it, but he entered the cave without delay. It was pitch dark inside.

'No magic,' Mehtar whispered close to her ear. Daemonica's throat tightened in fear. After a few steps, a pool appeared before them, its calm surface mirroring the stars through a man-made window in the rock ceiling. There were occasional golden glints under the water. After each flash, a black shadow ran across the still water, as if a dark cloud had swept over the starry sky above them.

'Black Rose. An artifact of unknown age, origin and power.' Mehtar's velvety voice came from the darkness not far from her. The blood boiled in Daemonica's veins. The words of the artifact spoke to her in the language of the sword with which she had defeated the Beast. Another golden glint illuminated Mehtar's dark eyes, which sank into hers. His brief gaze was filled with intrusive questions and unexpected orders. The shadow that followed the flash showed in her face. The cave sank back into darkness as the light faded.

'Black Rose. That’s what we're protecting.' Daemonica gripped the amulet on her neck. The whisper of the artifact in her head and the desire to give in to a long-suppressed killing urge clouded her mind. She thought she heard Mehtar right beside her, but she could only percieve his words with great effort.

'Now witness what Black Rose can do to a man.' The cave was illuminated again by the golden light of an artifact hiding beneath the surface of the pool. Instead of Mehtar, Sorcerer stood before her.

'Or to an entire army,' Sorcerer's cold voice echoed in her head, and then the illusion vanished. The talisman sparkled gold and black in the gloom of the cave as Mehtar raised it slowly. The pressure in her veins eased. Daemonica, though still dazed, at least regained control of her body. Mehtar approached her, a glowing talisman in his hand, the shape of which really remotely resembled a stem with an unblossomed rose flower.

'It's remarkable how it reacts to you.' The mage's gaze turned momentarily to her right shoulder, then to the hand on the fabric of the white shirt beneath which her amulet was hidden.

'Let's go,' he said. Daemonica followed him silently out of the cave. Her forehead was drenched with cold sweat, and the cool wind that blew from the mountains had finally rid her of the remnants of the enchantment. Talisman vanished back into the folds of Mehtar's robe.

'Fortunately for us, it is not known how to retrieve the artifact from the pool. It's probably not possible at all. But that does not mean that no one would try.' The mage spoke the truth, but in his eyes she saw that much remained unsaid, and the wizard made no attempt to hide it.

'What did you mean, the artifact reacts strangely to me?' Daemonica asked curiously, recovering remarkably quickly from the experience.

'I said no such thing aloud,' Mehtar smirked, a little startled. 'The artifact affects everyone differently. In Cedris we have a rather interesting collection of books on the subject, they are at your disposal.' He added with a hint of mockery in his voice, then turned serious.

'You passed the test. Good night.' His long robes rustled as he turned and started slowly back toward Keep.

Daemonica and Redviolet led their horses toward the gate. Red offered to keep her company on her usual Cedris-Andala route, which Daemonica accepted with undisguised pleasure.

'Ready for a girls' ride?' She tossed her long, heavy braid.

'Ready as I can be!' Daemonica laughed and vaulted into Rascal’s saddle.

'To Andala then, to pay off the debts!'

On the first night in Andala, the stable master himself had hosted them in a clean and loving household, despite the fact that part of the amount Daemonica paid him for Rascal fell to Redviolet as the winner of the bet, the details of which neither the redhead nor the horseman mentioned a word.

The next day, after booking the rooms in the cozy tavern called Two Suns just outside the north gate on the Little Side, they set off toward Tradepost, where they were to meet a man who wished to do business with Cedris. On the wide, gradual steps in front of the splendid building glowing in the still-sharp spring sunshine over the entire square, Daemonica stopped hearing the familiar voice.

'My lady!' A red-haired bard tried to push his way through the crowd at the bottom of the stairs. She walked a few paces back down toward him.

'Skald!'

'You remember my name.' Skald had worked his way artfully through the crowd and was now looking at her with a slight smile on his face. Redviolet, already standing at the top of the stairs, noticed only now that she was alone.

'Dae! Save your love errands until after work!' Red called out loud. Several of the women who had just passed Daemonica on the stairs looked at her with open contempt and hidden envy.

'Eh... I didn't mean to cause trouble.' The bard gave a bright smile to Redviolet, leaning against one of the massive columns in the entrance to Tradepost. 'Is Dae your name?' He asked curiously.

'Not really.' Daemonica smiled, Skald looked disappointed.

'Anyway…I won't keep you long...'

'Just please don't tell me you need a new dress.' Redviolet grinned as Daemonica joined her after a moment. She glanced discreetly at the silent girl beside her, making her way through, as always at this time, crowded Tradepost.

'I'd say we're in place.' Daemonica nodded toward a group of tables under a high and wide window, their clean and polished desks reflecting stained glass. Redviolet sighed deeply and followed Daemonica, who was already on her way to one of them.

Andala was an open city - literally. None of the kings had ever been short of volunteers for their troops, including the city guards. But few of them could boast of soldiers as loyal as those who served the present king Arnvin. Therefore, all gates of the city were always open (including the one to the Royal Palace) and accessible to everyone, regardless of origin, property or time of the day. The number of almost incorruptible guards on the streets of the Royal Bank was warning enough to anyone who wanted to know more about their reputation - in a painful way.

A trio of lavish townhouses standing in the lower half of the slope on the Bank by the Draa River closed the area on three sides with a richly decorated mosaic instead of paving. From the fourth side towards the river it turned into an orchard with fruit trees. Traditionally, famous and unknown artists, regardless of the time of the year, were invited here on Bard’s Corner to woo the rich and noble audience. More than one of them then earned a warm and comfortable place in one of the magnificent houses and villas in the Royal Andala. In the long summer of the warm harbor, the ancient orchard was often filled with music and the words of countless songs and poems. Needless to say, that Bard's Corner (actually General Lazasius the Faithful Square) and, above all, the adjoining orchard by the river were popular places for lovers to meet.

Skald looked around nervously. He'd probably never admit out loud that the new song he'd composed had been inspired by an unknown girl who, though she seemed to need help herself, had given him such a generous gift for music he hadn't even composed himself. But the audience was beginning to buzz with questions about why he was still waiting. There was nowhere to retreat. A gentle breeze carried the last rose petals of the apple blossoms, and the air smelled of the first roses in bloom, while nearby Draa sang her own song fearlessly. His fingers trembled the lute strings, sending the first notes toward the audience, most of them women, as his eyes met Daemonica's dark gaze.

She stood aside in the shade of the trees glowing with spring green. She was clad in a simple white dress, with a light bluish cloak fastened by a buckle on her right shoulder, as was often the case among women of higher classes. Discreet and dignified. She was brushing back her hair, which fell to her face in the gentle breeze. Skald's hand slid down the string in a false tone. Daemonica’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She was perhaps the only one in the wide circle gathered around him to notice the error. But then, with a barely perceptible smile, she nodded at him encouragingly. Skald was suddenly relieved, and all the tremor was gone. His hand stroked the lute strings again.

The road ahead‘s too long,

My feet allready aching.

Why they ask me to be strong,

If none of them is helping?

Why everything I‘ve done,

Seems so pointless, seems so dull…

The road I‘ve left is now too far,

My knees allready shaking.

Why they think that what I‘ve done

Was just to make them happy?

Skald's music drifted over the river, the ladies sighed, the men nodded. To Daemonica's genuine delight, his performance seemed successful. She watched the bard with a smile as he bowed to the enthusiastic audience to loud applause with an irresistible smile on his face. After a while, however, Skald's gaze turned toward her. She could see that he had apologized to his supporters and was walking toward her, smiling broadly.

'My Lady, I thank you with all my heart for taking the time to listen to the poor bard's bad songs.' His rather stuffy words still conveyed a joyous sincerity.

'Your music is not bad, Skald. It's beautiful.' She smiled at his language. 'Besides, I'd say you'll soon be quite a rich bard.' Daemonica looked toward the artist’s eagerly waiting admirers.

'You are wrong, my lady. I will not be locked in a gilded cage like a canary.' Skald laughed gently. 'Bard belongs on the road if his songs shall be worth anything.' He said with a good dose of pride in his voice. There was a murmur of discontent among the assembled spectators nearby. His behavior was rude, to say the least.

'Please return to your admirers and celebrate your success, Skald. You deserve it.' She looked genuinely embarrassed. The poet's gray-green eyes glittered with the evening sun shining through the young leaves of the trees. Daemonica stomped on the spot. Skald turned serious.

'You won't disappear that easily this time. But your name and the place you call home will suffice for today.' He folded his arms across his chest to show his persistence. A shadow of apprehension crossed Daemonica's face. The art of reading people's faces like an open book was inherent in Skald's profession. When he realized that she was not merely toying with him, but that something serious was preventing her from revealing her real name, he felt deeply ashamed. Though before he had a chance to correct his mistake, she was ahead of him.

'My name is Daemonica and my home is Fort Cedris.' She looked him sternly in the eye.

'Your secret is safe with me.' Skald couldn't believe he was blushing. That hasn't happened to him in a long time.

'You should go,' Daemonica glanced at the already thinning group of his supporters.

'I don't usually travel east, but there are other ways...' A learned smile returned to Skald's face. With a slight bow, he turned and left. Daemonica walked a little longer through the old orchard she knew all too well, before heading slowly back to the Little Side. There Redviolet was waiting for her inside of the Two Suns inn.