The Undying God (2 page)

“Nishka...” She faced her father. “If
you encounter danger, do not be afraid to run.” Nishka’s eyes
widened. “Bandits and thieves will show you no mercy.”

He stroked his daughter’s cheek and
looked into her eyes. He would be devastated if any harm came to
Nishka. One day, he would have to accept that she was no longer a
child and she wouldn’t need him anymore. This could be her
opportunity to find a better life outside of Riverwell.

Nishka took his hand and squeezed it.
She appreciated his concern, but she didn’t believe it was
warranted, least of all in the form of a bodyguard.

“Come,” Matthias beckoned. “He is
waiting outside.” Nishka repressed a sigh, hardly keen on the idea
of a man escorting her across Eyegad. For the sake of her father,
she followed him, slightly intrigued. The door swung open and
Nishka almost barreled into the stranger.

The breath rushed out of her lungs in
shock. He was a man of slender build, but perhaps his most striking
features were his skin and hair. His skin bore a distinct paleness,
as though the moon imbued his flesh with the color of
snow.

In contrast, his hair had an unnatural,
bluish tinge, making him look all the more extraordinary. He
possessed a narrow face with handsome features, among them eyes
nearly as vibrant as the sky on a summer day. They did not merely
look at Nishka. Rather, they looked
through
her, probing her
mind.

She did not like his expression at all,
a chilling gaze both unfeeling and cold.

Clutched in his hand was a black staff
crowned with an orb, whereas the other end tapered to a sharp tip.
Nishka saw her reflection in the orb, and only then did she realize
the horrified expression on her face.

Chapter 2

“
Can I trust him?” Nishka
asked.

“I don’t see why not. He’s a capable
fellow.”

Nishka glanced over her shoulder and
looked at her escort as though he was misshapen.

“He looks perfectly capable of spooking
me and everyone else in this village.” Matthias chuckled at the
comment dripping with sarcasm.

“He is an extraordinary character, I’ll
give him that much!” He heaved another crate into the donkey-drawn
cart with less strength than usual.

“And you found him wandering on the
road…?”

“Give him a chance, Nishka. If your
mother judged me purely on the premise of my face, I wouldn’t have
a beautiful daughter like you.”

Nishka’s expression softened at the
mention of her mother. Her father kissed her lightly on the cheek
and continued with preparations for the journey. Nishka watched
somberly.

Didn’t her father understand the burden
he was placing on her? She was a stranger to the city-states, and
she had never sold anything before. She feared his expectations
were misplaced.

When the final preparations had been
made, it was time for the father and daughter to exchange
good-byes.

Nishka kissed him on the cheek and
hugged him tightly.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said in his
cloistering embrace.

“Don’t worry.” The warm look had
returned to his eyes that she cherished from her childhood, but
this time the colors had begun to dim with age. Nishka took solace
in those eyes that even now seemed so much older than
yesterday.

He was no longer the tall and strong
man she remembered from years ago. Perhaps that memory was becoming
less vivid as she grappled with the reality that even time could
defeat her father. Nishka couldn’t prolong their cruel good-bye
forever. With a final parting embrace, she joined the stranger
awaiting her by the side of the road.

“Take care of yourself, Nishka,”
Matthias called. He quietly receded into the house, but not before
burning his beloved daughter’s image into his mind. As soon as he
vanished from sight, Nishka snapped a look at the
bodyguard.

“How much did my father pay you to
follow me?”

“Enough,” he vaguely replied. Nishka
noticed the coin purse dangling from his belt, no doubt bulging
with the latest addition of silver. Perhaps she would see for
herself how much he had swindled from her father.

“What is your name?”

“Arxu.” Another one-word answer. Nishka
couldn’t pin down the origins of “Arxu,” but it was obviously
foreign to these lands.

“So what do you do, Arxu?”

“I am a Nightwalker. What is your
trade?”

“I assist my father in whatever needs
to be done, mostly menial tasks; sharpening the edges of swords,
operating the bellows, and breaking charcoal.”

“That sounds like an apprentice.”

“No, I’m not an apprentice.”

“Most apprentices become journeymen in
early adulthood,” Arxu continued much to her indignation. “Then
they leave apprenticeship in search of work elsewhere. How old are
you?”

“Seventeen—”

“It is rather unusual for one to remain
in apprenticeship for so long. Why do you stay by your father’s
side?”

“I’m not an apprentice,” she repeated
irately. Arxu did not press the matter. Nishka hesitated when
Riverwell was far behind, an obscure shape melting on the horizon.
The sky was already fading to orange as the day ended.

This would be the furthest she had ever
traveled from home, and the first step into the countryside seemed
by far the most arduous. With each step Nishka took, she felt a
pressing weight on her heart; memories of her childhood home
surfaced within, and she wondered if the Riverwell of her memory
would greet her upon her return.

* * *

Nishka gathered around the campfire at
sunset. How could it be that Riverwell lay miles behind her? Having
spent most of her life beside her father, she was not ready to
welcome this change. Despite Arxu’s company, she felt banished to
these strange lands. She considered the man across the campsite,
where he tethered the donkey to a tree. He spoke so little he was
nearly mute.

By the way he carried his staff, Nishka
assumed he was skilled in its deadly use. She wondered what
mysteries there were to this man’s character. Of all the people she
met, he was the most reserved, only speaking about the task
appointed to him.

Nishka felt demeaned by the notion of a
stranger watching over her every move. She shook her head in
disappointment. What made her father think he could escort her?
Sometimes, she believed Matthias was too trusting of
others.

“Thirty silver coins,” Arxu
said.

“What?”

“That’s how much your father paid for
my services.” Nishka’s heart slapped against her ribs. The amount
her father had invested in her safety stunned her. “And an
additional thirty silver coins upon your safe return.”

“Hold on—” Nishka rose to her feet,
feeling the blood boil in her veins. “You’re extorting my father.
He doesn’t have that kind of money to pay you.” The accusation
bounced harmlessly off Arxu, who didn’t even bother to meet her
gaze.

“We negotiated the price. I can assure
you no extortion was needed.” In one last desperate attempt to be
rid of him, Nishka dug into her own coin purse.

“Here!
” she said, thrusting a
fistful of coins at him. “I don’t need a bodyguard and I certainly
don’t want one. Keep the thirty silver you took from my father and
take this. I’m going to join the next caravan and be on my way.
Just leave me alone
.” The Nightwalker glanced over his
shoulder, perhaps intrigued by the generous offer.

“No. I will stay with you.”

Nishka sighed in defeat and slumped by
the campfire. She had a bad feeling about this strange
man.

As she nodded off to sleep, she caught
a glimpse of his predatory eyes. She felt for the knife concealed
under her belt and took comfort in its weight.

Several hours later, she came to her
senses in startling clarity.

“It is time to wake up,” a man’s voice
said, and Nishka felt his hand on her. She immediately leaped to
her feet and reached for her knife.

“Why are you touching me?”

“It was necessary to wake you.” Nishka
blinked harshly under the glare of the morning sun. Without pausing
to eat, she picked up her knapsack and set foot on the road. She
broke pace with Arxu, leaving him to fall behind.

“You’re avoiding me,” he
said.

“I don’t need a bodyguard.” Arxu seized
her by the arm, and she recoiled from his cold grip. She turned to
kick him in the groin, but his stare paralyzed her. No emotion
reflected in those jaded eyes.

He released Nishka and she slowly
backed away. What had she just seen in his eyes? They looked empty.
If the eyes were supposedly the windows into one’s soul, what
indeed lurked in his?

“What is our destination?” Arxu finally
asked, glancing at a crossroad robed in mist.

“Sepulzer.”

“Sepulzer?” he echoed.

“
Yes. Haven’t you been there
before?” Arxu didn’t answer. “I was hoping you could tell me more
about the city-states of Eyegad. I only know what little my father
told me.”

“Then I will rely on you for
information.” The hairs on Nishka’s neck prickled as the silence
deepened.

“What can you tell me about the
city-states?” she asked. Arxu gripped his staff a little
tighter.

“They do not trust each
other.”

Chapter 3

Nishka eyed the tracks carved into the
dirt from caravan wagons. She hoped other artisans with armor and
blades had not reached Sepulzer yet. With any luck, the merchants
who passed through were selling spices or meats. Nishka turned left
on the crossroad and Arxu magnetically followed.

She still couldn’t believe her escort
was oblivious to the city of Sepulzer. Didn’t he travel south along
the road? From which direction did he arrive at Riverwell? She
resisted the temptation to ask.

“Sepulzer is an aristocracy,” she said.
“A man named Jabul oversees the city-state. My father tells me
crime is rampant here, and Jabul isn’t equipped to deal with any
crisis that befalls the city. The people often say he secludes
himself in his palace and he neglects policy. Instead, he hoards
gold he has taxed from the commoners and pursues a lavish life.
Corrupt ambassadors supervise the internal affairs but little good
results from their efforts. Sepulzer’s economy is perhaps the
weakest of all the city-states in Eyegad.”

“And you expect to acquire profit in
Sepulzer?”

“It’s a possibility. I have to try.”
She remembered another aspect of the corrupt city she gleaned from
her father. “There’s also a magnificent tower in Sepulzer called
Tythoril. You can see all around the city from its
viewpoint.”

Overhead, the sky portended rain, a
gray pall that so often hovered above Sepulzer. The constant
pelting rain or seething tempest added to the depressing overtones
of the notorious city-state. Thunder echoed somberly in the
distance like a war drum.

“Hierarchy is an important factor in
Sepulzer,” Nishka added. “The gap between the rich and the
poverty-stricken is enormous. Furthermore, the city is rife with
rivaling factions, forcing citizens to align with one faction over
the other.”

“Criminal factions?”

“In some cases, yes... One of the most
infamous organizations is called Red Gate. This group primarily
consists of disenfranchised youths turned to crime. Extortion,
weapons smuggling, and robbery.”

“Tell me more about the city
factions.”

“Before I left home, my father warned
me about a faction called Sinner’s Eye. He told me to keep far away
from any men with body markings of eyes and hands. Other than that,
he didn’t go into detail.”

“The Sinner’s Eye may traffic slaves...
or more nefarious practices.”

“Well, I have no intention of finding
out. Any group that calls itself ‘Sinner’s Eye’ has got to be
creepy.”

Together, they approached the city that
defined both beauty and hedonism. Even from a distance, the
metropolis captured Nishka’s imagination and made her skin tingle
with both fear and awe. Sepulzer awaited them like the entrance to
a great, palatial mausoleum. Spindly towers rose high above the
city, embellished with statues. Sepulzer was a spectacular
labyrinth of dark architecture, every twist and turn revealing
another sordid aspect to society.

The gates yawned open and an overjoyed
Nishka plunged ahead in search of the nearest inn and soft bed.
That relief was dashed by the sight of the armed guards before
her.

“We need to inspect the cart before you
can enter the city,” a man said, his hand resting comfortably on
the hilt of his blade. Fear began to dance in Nishka’s brain as the
guards approached.

Much to her concern, they removed the
crates from the cart and violently pried them open.

“
Do you have to open the
crates?”