Chapter 32 - The Great Swamp

Lucian got next to no sleep that night as he nursed his lover back to health. Aven practically sweat right through his flu, shuddering with waves of heat rolling off of him in the night as Lucian touched a summoned block of wrapped ice to his forehead. Once or twice he hurled into a bucket before finally turning over to sleep.

Lucian had never seen Aven act like such a baby in his life.

The man had been stabbed, blown up and had the skin flayed from his back, but gods forbid he had a cold. Unbelievable.

Finally, the sheer exhaustion got to Lucian and he passed out beside Aven - with a wall of pillows separating them, in the instance Aven decided to puke again. He was roused by the soft shuffles of warm skin on blankets, and Aven’s tired head poked up from the top of the pillow wall. “…are you hiding from me?” he murmured as he rubbed his eyes.

“No. Just protecting myself from your puke.” Lucian pushed his hand to Aven’s forehead. He still felt a bit warm… but certainly not as bad as the night before. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Aven admitted. “But…I do feel better.”

“I can’t believe a little cold is what turned you into a sniveling baby. Of all things.”

Aven might have blushed, had his face not already been flushed with a waning fever. “I’m not used to them!” He whined and Lucian sighed.

“I know. Is there anything I can get you?”

“No… but there’s something you can give me.”

“Oh?”

Aven beckoned Lucian close. The edge of the Prince’s lip lifted and he scooted close to let Aven wrap his arms around him, shirtless from having to remove his tunic after he’d gotten his own sick on it. “Nice thing about being in your arms,” Lucian murmured. “You’re always warm…except when you’re dead, of course.”

“And you’re always cold. It can be a pain with your tiny, icy foot on my leg.”

“Yeah? Next time I’ll shove my tiny, icy foot up your-”

“Aven!” Kendyll pushed the door open and smiled, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Aven admitted, kissing Lucian’s jaw before he sat up. “I’m sorry if I slowed everyone down.”

“No, you’re fine! Here, let me get you some water.”

“You’re an angel, Kendyll,” Aven smiled as the girl drew a waterskin over. He downed half its contents and groaned, leaning his head to the backboard of his bed. “Gods, that was good.”

“Refresh yourself as much as you can,” Lucian said. “We can melt the snow down into water, but as soon as we reach the swamp we’ll be down to whatever supplies we can carry on us. Will you be well enough to travel?”

Aven tested himself by throwing his legs out over the bed. Immediately he leaned to the side and groaned. “…head’s spinning a bit."

Lucian scoffed. "Dumbass. You shouldn’t have given me your cloak. You needed it."

"You were cold!"

"So because I was cold, you had to be freezing? Don’t be an idiot.” Lucian pushed up from the bed. “I’m going to tell Marcello we’re ready to depart. Get dressed, and take it easy.” He swept out.

As soon as Lucian left, Aven blew out a breath, his head leaned to the wall while he prepared himself to stand.

“You sure you’re doing alright?” Kendyll asked fretfully. She set the waterskin aside to find Aven’s discarded armor and a fresh set of underclothes, helping lay them out onto the bed for him.

“…You really don’t have to do that. You should go out with the others, I can finish up in here and we can get on the move again.”

Kendyll stopped what she was doing to level him with a look, her arms folded over her chest. Even dressed for travels, she was beautiful. Dark brown hair fell in curls that swept over her shoulders and down to the mid of her back. They blanketed a soft, long sleeved dress that flowed down to her ankles in a beautiful lilac shade. It was topped with a fuzzy fur shawl for the cold. While she could fool some people into believing she wasn’t royalty, she’d never fool Aven. He knew the type. “I’m perfectly fine where I am. It’s not a sin to let people help you.”

Aven sighed as he finally pushed up from the bed, moving to take the flowy, white linen shirt she’d produced. “I’m just… not used to it. Any of it. You, Lucian, Marcello…”

“Do you not feel like you deserve it? Aven I’ve seen enough from you to know you are a pretty incredible man. What you’ve done for people, what you do for Lucian. I think I am quite lucky to consider you a friend, and friends take care of each other.” As Aven tugged the shirt on, she drifted back over to begin fastening on his chest piece, pulling buckles beneath his arms and snapping them to place. “Titles aren’t always everything. You can find friends in all places. And having been a slave does not define you. Don’t worry so much. Let people be kind to you in return for the kindness you give to them.”

Aven could feel his cheeks smother with heat. “You’re a good friend too, Kendyll. Thank you.”

Kendyll smiled as she fixed the last clasp into place, surging forward to rope her arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Always. Now come on, let’s get moving. I’ve got some wicked stories saved up for the trip down the mountain so we don’t have to listen to my brother give another history lesson.”

He chuckled out, hugging her back before they parted. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Together, they joined Marcello and Lucian out in the main sitting area of the cabin.

Marcello was pouring over a map while invisible servants poured him a bitter, dark looking brew which he drank in one gulp, eyes on the map. “So what’s the plan?” Aven asked.

“We’re at the crest of the mountains,” Marcello said, eyeing the parchment. “We’re going to make our way down, which should land us in the Rethlid…otherwise known as the Great Swamp. We’ll trudge our way through, reach the Bay of Dancing Dolphins and along the edge of its shore is the entrance to the Underdark.” He looked up to Lucian. “I do hope you have a way to destroy it."

"Of course I do,” Lucian dismissed with a wave of his hand. “You’re quite good at turning things into other things. Simply turn that entrance into a pile of rubble. Simple."

Marcello snorted. "Good to know you have it all figured out. Aven. How are you feeling?"

"Well enough to hit the road."

"Good.” Marcello pushed to his feet. “Then let’s head out. We have a lot of ground to cover today, and I don’t want to spend a single second longer than I have to in the Rethlid.”

The way down the mountains was treacherous. With no path designed for humans to tread, they followed a mountain goat path that wound down its precarious edge. At one point, several of them burst in front of them, running across the path and startled the horses. They were swiftly brought under control as they continued their descent.

Slowly, the landscape melted away from cold mountains to something wet, humid and hot. Every breath they drew felt wet and muggy in their lungs. The firm ground of the mountains grew damp, fading into swamp.

Coming to its edge, it was filled with moss covered cypress and zalantar trees. Trees with black trunks dipped into the scummy water. Rotting vegetation filled the air with a putrid smell of decay and rot, gas bubbles popping and rising through the water. The swamp was alive with the sounds of flies buzzing and the slurp of mud as they pushed their way inside.

Lucian wrinkled his nose, fingers twisting into the reins of his horse. “What a wretched place."

Marcello snorted. "Perhaps. But you should be cautious. All of us. Swamps can be particularly dangerous places."

"Dangerous…?” Aven asked. The muggy heat of the bag did no favors to his body recovering from fever. “Like what?"

"They say there’s orbs of light that can lure travelers to their deaths. Great lizards that lie under the water and can snap a man’s torso in half in seconds. And of course, the disease from a single mosquito.” Marcello squashed one that was feeding on his neck.

The journey through the Rethlid Swamp was intolerable. An endless swarm of bugs surrounded them, needles poking at every bit of exposed skin and through their armour. A hot and sluggish breeze carried a foul odor through the swamp as odious fumes rose up from bubbling pits, spewing green and yellow gas into the air.

One of them exploded right in front of Lucian and his horse reared, panicked until Lucian calmed her down with a stroke to her neck. “Careful you don’t breathe those in,” Kendyll warned. “Some of them carry diseases… like cackle fever and mindfire."

"Oh, don’t those just sound lovely,” Lucian murmured, pulling his horse around.

“Lucian?” Aven said. “What’s that on your hand?"

"What do you mean what’s on my- GET IT OFF.” Something long and black was attached to his palm, and Lucian nearly threw himself from Soleil’s back in a panicked attempt to rip it off. “It’s stuck. It’s stuck!"

”Lucian!“ Marcello hissed, whipping his horse about. "Stop your screeching! It’s just a leech."

"No it’s not! Herschel never used leeches this big. It must be some kind of… dire… swamp irradiated leech."

"No. I can assure you it’s just a leech. Come here.” Lucian drew his horse over to Marcello who placed his hand on top of the leech. His fingertips flared with heat, and the moment it felt the sting of flames touching its sensitive, moist body it dislodged and fell limp into the swamp water.

Lucian rubbed his hand. “I hate this place,” he said.

Marcello led the way through the swamp. Careful. Alert. He kept his eyes on the water, knowing full well every burp and bubble could be a pocket of air from a submerged tree… or a beast, lying in the muck in wait.

It was utterly alien, compared to Aeliorn. His home had no flies as big as ones hand. No strange shambling mounds of algae that shuffled out of view. At one point, he could have sworn he saw a massive lizard pull itself off a log into the water.

Soon, the air was overcome with the rancid smell of rot and decay. Lucian put his hand up to his mouth. “Do you smell that?"

Aven nodded. "Yeah… we’re getting close to it, too."

Up ahead, past the suffocating maze of decaying vegetation - they came to a tree. Lucian turned around and hurled into the water.

Bodies hung overhead from the tree branches, vines wrapped around their necks suspending them above the water. Their bodies were rotted and bloated, and the smell… the smell was horrible. Unlike anything Aven had ever experienced. He retched, pulling his collar over his mouth. "What could have done this..?"

Marcello drew close, examining the bodies. Several spear wounds cut down their swollen corpses and he grimaced. ”…lizard folk, I imagine,“ he said. "They’re natives here…” His eyes drew across the faces of the bodies. Nearly unidentifiable save for race. Human and half drow. “…we should keep moving. Clearly, they don’t appreciate visitors.”

Their poor horses were being eaten alive. Every one of them was covered in a swarm of mosquitos, and Jorak’s tail was constantly slapping up onto his hind quarters to knock them away, ears twitching with discomfort. Aven sighed and stroked his neck. “I know, I know… Lucian, don’t you have anything that can keep the bugs off them?"

Lucian slapped one of his face and glowered at Aven. "If I had a spell like that, I would have used it on myself, not the fucking horse."

“Hey, don’t fight!” Kendyll said as she twisted around in her saddle. “I have an idea. Why don’t I tell a story?”

Aven’s eyes lit up. “A story?”

“Here she goes again,” Marcello murmured.

“Shut up, you love my stories. Well, while we’re in a swamp, I might as well tell a story about Halruaa’s swamp. Akhlaur Swamp.”

“I didn’t even know Halruaa had a swamp… is it a result of the Spellplague?” Lucian asked and she shook her head.

“Nope! It’s named after a wizard named Akhlaur. He was a conjurer, like you, Lucian! And he was a close friend of our ruler, Netyarch Zalathorm Silvercrest! He was extremely powerful. He could have tried to take the throne for himself, did he not care for Zalathorm, but..” she paused. “One day, they had a falling out. A horrible, horrible fight and Akhlaur began to lay siege to the city, destroying everything until he was banished by Zalathorm. He retreated into the forest, where he built a tower and conducted all manners of horrible tests. Creating oozes that sucked the mana right out of you, combining creatures in awful, chimeric experiments."

"You mentioned a forest. How did a forest turn into a swamp?"

"He at one point tried to create a permanent portal to the Plane of Water… it went wrong. THe water wouldn’t stop, and eventually it flooded the entire area. Once Akhlaur died, the swamp was overrun by undead and his experiments."

“And you haven’t… taken care of that?” Lucian snorted, looking up to Marcello who flushed.

“It’s contained,” he muttered. “There’s no reason to risk the lives of our men to attack a swamp that can’t harm those who don’t go inside it.” Marcello slowed. “…Listen.”

Their horses slowed. In the distance… they could hear bells, and the giggles of… Aven’s spine crawled with unease. “Are those…children?”

“The only children in this swamp are the lizards’,” Marcello murmured, pressing forward. Kendyll and Lucian followed, with Aven lingering behind. He listened for the sound. They were like ghosts in the night.

He moved to follow - when a glow caught his eye. Aven squinted through the dense decay of the swamp. Far ahead, bobbing between thick vines and rotten stumps, a ball of light bounced along the surface of the water, thrumming with a soft, silvery glow as another giggle sounded from it. What was that…? He turned his horse to follow, when Lucian drew Soleil in front of him, eyes hard. "Not a good idea."

"Is it a ghost?"

"Likely not,” Lucian murmured.

“Wisps,” Kendyll whispered. “If you follow them, they’ll lead you to your death..”

Aven paled. “Maybe we should keep moving.”

Dusk fell swiftly. Somehow, the swamp was even more foreboding in the dark. Shadows danced across the rotting limbs of trees and blocked out the glow of the sun. Their clothes were hot and sticky from an entire day of trudging through the muck and marsh, dead leaves and mud stuck to their skin. But more than anything…

Aven hesitated. “…Do you guys hear that?"

Lucian turned. "What do you mean? I don’t hear anything."

"Exactly… there’s nothing.” There was utter silence. No croaking frogs. No shrieks and screeches of animals and birds. Not even the buzzing of flies. The entire swamp was holding its breath.

It was almost more unsettling than the noise. It was an unease Jorak seemed to sense as well, as well as the other horses. They pulled their heads away to turn around, snorting and dug their hooves into the muck in protest.

Ahead, great shapes rose up from the marsh, choked with vines and greenery that had creeped up around them. It was a city. Half buried in the muck, deteriorating towers rose up through the trees, strangled by vines, algae and moss. They were the bones of a great city, lost to the swamp.

Marcello’s eye roamed the half sunken city with caution, his horse’s hooves clicking against a piece of rubble. “Let’s see if we can’t find something untouched by the swamp to rest in,” he said. “We shouldn’t be traveling at night."

"One of those towers might do,” Lucian said, coming up on Marcello’s side.

The emptiness of the city was unnerving. No lizards lounged on the ruins submerged in the water. No flies buzzed. Moonlight crept through the trees, sending the city into a haunting glow of silver. It’s impossible to imagine what it may have looked like before it fell into ruin. Marcello pulled his horse to a stop beside a crumbled tower and his hand rested on the base. “These ruins are Netherese,” he murmured. “I can’t imagine what could have made it fall. Or how… they were said to be the strongest civilization in the realms."

"It takes a kingdom centuries to rise,” Lucian said. “And only seconds to fall. Hopefully whatever destroyed this place has moved on. Here… why don’t we check this tower."

As they rode forward to investigate one of the towers, something caught Aven’s eye. He peered through the beams of moonlight poking through the trees at great hoops built fifty feet in the air. They were massive… you could fit a sailship through them. What could they possibly be used for..?

"Aven!” Lucian called.

He shook his head. “Coming!"

After a moment of searching, Marcello came to the edge of a tower, already moving to stabilize the exhausted equine. "This one looks sturdy enough. I can ward for the night. If we have any unwanted guests, I’ll be woken up.”

Aven dismounted and trudged through the water. Only half the flooring was flooded, but the rest seemed dry enough. The tower in its entirety looked quite unstable… but he supposed there wasn’t a single building in this city that was.

All four were exhausted. A day of trudging through a swamp left their clothes soaked with muck, covered in leeches and smelling like rot. “I do think this is the most miserable place I’ve ever been in,” Lucian muttered as he laid out a bedroll.

"Even worse than Spellhold?“ Aven asked, laying his out beside Lucian’s.

"Definitely. At least I was blind for most of it. Here, I actually have to see this mess."

Over to the side, Marcello was fussing over his sister, cleaning her with a charm that melted the muck and grime off her skin and clothes, clean as if she’d been pampered in the luxury of her own home.

“Stop fussing,” she said. “Worry about yourself for once.”

“Come on,” he muttered, pushing some swamp muck away from her eyes. “Let me be a big brother.”

Her eyes soften. She reaches out to hug her brother, uncaring of the fact that he still remained filthy. "Are you going to stay awake..?"

Marcello whisked off his cloak and draped it around her frame. "I may for a bit. Do you need me to get you anything..?"

Kendyll grabbed his hand and pulled him down until he was sitting next to her, and she scooted over to rest her head on his shoulder. "Stay with me."

His arm curled loose around her frame to keep her in place. "All right,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of us…"

Shadows fell over the city. It was still utterly, strangely silent. Like all life in the area had fled as night passed over. Marcello glanced over to Aven and Lucian. Asleep. With a breath, he pulled off his eyepatch and his golden, arcane eye whirred to life as it searched the darkness, pulling the faintest light from the moon. His eyes swept over the hoop like spires. So silent. So dead.

He imagined what kind of paradise this civilization might have been. The Netherese were masters of magic, striving to create a perfect empire. Now, they were gone. It was almost like a foul omen as he thought back to his own country.

His own country that was currently under threat… Gods, he missed Theseus. He would have been able to handle this with so much more dignity, grace and wisdom… Marcello was never meant for the throne.

Yet, it was his to protect now, regardless of what he wanted. They had to succeed in this mission…they had to.

Marcello settled down to sleep against Kendyll… when he felt a rush of magic.

His ward buzzed in his mind. Narrowing his eyes, Marcello eased up from Kendyll, careful not to let her fall over as he crept to the tower entrance. In the darkness, one of the hoops suddenly burned with light. Thrums of magic vibrated across its adamantite frame, blue light materializing within, illuminating the dark.

"Who activated you…?” He whispered into the dark.

Several long stretches of silence filled the night as Marcello half hung from the entrance to the tower, an arm splayed on the wall of the inside to keep him righted as he craned his vision into the night. The portal hummed where it loomed, light of blue flickering with the threat of closing when finally…

A shape emerged. Massive. Serpentine scales of ebon glistened a sickly yellow in the pale moonlight. Wings like a bat’s stretched out as long as a sky ship’s sails on either end. Marcello felt his heart lodge in his throat as he sank back against the building. Thud thud thud. He could scarcely tell the difference between the beat of his heart and the powerful flap of wings as they approached.

He dared another look. His golden eye flared like a wisp in the night as the tower shook against the weight of the beast. With its long tail snaking down to curl around the ruin, its boney head shifted to view. A ghostly skull thinly wrapped in scales, with a long head and large hooked horns that flanked its face, he watched the body of a person splinter beneath its fangs in a spray of red.

No.

Marcello wrenched back, his stomach tying into knots as his knees quietly bit the ground. Silent. Hands shook as he crawled against the floor to his sister to muffle any footsteps. Above, all he could hear were the snaps of bones as the vile black dragon tore into carcassas it’d brought back with it.

“Kendyll,” his voice hissed above a faint breath. He twisted his fingers into her dress, shaking her arm to rouse her.

“Mm… Marc-”

Kendyll didn’t get a word out before his hand clamped over her mouth. Her tired gaze widened as it met his firm one. She recognized the urgency and fear lingering behind his poised features. Marcello didn’t speak again, his finger pointing above towards the threat before back towards a corner of the tower away from the window. Stay. Please. He seemed to urge.

No argument arose. While his sister quietly slunk from her bed to duck back against the wall, Marcello painstakingly made his way to where Lucian and Aven slept on the other side. Every movement was a noise that crashed in his skull, aware any voice, any sudden motion… the dragon could hear.

Lucian was curled around Aven from behind, his arms and legs wrapped tight around the man. All the same, Marcello shook him awake by the arm. By now Lucian had come across enough to wake in utter silence. Rooted into instinct, the boy rolled to find Marcello, his features stilling when he caught the look the man wore.

‘What is it?’ he mouthed.

Marcello’s mouth opened to answer when the sound of splintering stone exploded next to them. The tower tore and trembled beneath the wicked swing of a tail as it lashed through the lower level they rested on. It’s all but blasted apart.

Rubble and large stones crashed and tore into skin.

The breath was knocked clean free from Marcello as the whip-like end of the tail collided with his abdomen, tossing him from the entrance. He felt his mouth gush with the taste of metal, biting down hard on his tongue. He rolled with a splash into the foul, murky swamp water.

Water sprayed from his mouth as he shot up coughing and heaving. His gaze cut wildly around the tower as it began to crumble and fall. Heart slamming in his chest, he spun a circle to find his companions.

Lucian eventually surfaced beside him, sputtering out and dripping wet. Aven next. A few feet away, the man was on his feet, stunned still as he gazed up to meet the malicious stare of the dragon whose blood stained fangs glittered in a smile.

Kendyll.

Where was Kendyll.

Marcello tore his gaze from the dragon, searching… scanning. There. Half sunken in the swampy water, blood swept down into her face where she leaned unconscious among the rubble. He looked back to the dragon in his path. Easily the biggest he’d ever seen. Then back to Kendyll.

Its gaze followed his with interest, head clicking to the side. As if curious what he’d do.

Behind, Marcello could hear Lucian’s voice, beckoning Aven away. “We have to go!” he hissed. Not yet. Magic flared across Marcello’s fingertips, his body rippling with a protective sheen before he lunged forward.

His voice cut through the tension like a knife as he screamed Kendyll’s name, the sound drowned by the overwhelming wave of water splashing beneath his feet. His feet… and the dragon’s. Marcello didn’t care if it was bigger. If it was faster. He pushed himself to close the distance that the dragon closed in a single hop.

It slammed its tail back against his chest and Marcello doubled over it with a gasp. He could almost hear a chuckle scraping from the beast’s maw as it clamped down around Kendyll, sweeping her between its glittering fangs.

Terror stabbed his heart. “No!” He screamed. “Don’t hurt her! Take me!”

He was leveled with a pale yellow gaze before giant wings snapped from the dragon’s back, lifting it into the air with Marcello’s sister still grasped within its jaws. It rounded in the air, peering down from the gnarled trees surrounding the ruined city.

Marcello ground his teeth together, snarling out as electricity charged across his fingertips. A bolt flung out and shattered against the beast’s scales.

It grinned, a malicious, horrible sight. With Kendyll limp in its teeth, it looked victoriously down upon the ant sized humans.

And bit.

Cold horror strangled in Marcello’s chest as he staggered back into Lucian and Aven. He felt tears surge forth, clouding his sight in one eye. A cry tore out and burned his throat raw at the sound. The sound of bone splintering.

He could do nothing. Frozen in place as the black dragon let both halves of Kendyll fall from its maw. His legs shook like jelly. Marcello followed his sister’s body all the way down until two splashes scattered the surface of the swamp water.

At his shoulder, he could feel Lucian try to tear him back. Beyond the ringing in his ears, he could hear Aven’s voice beg to run. The Netyarch’s vision blurred as he dared to find the black dragon in the sky, where it watched him gleefully.

There was a burst of feathers from beside him.

Lucian summoned two hippogriffs and shoved Aven onto one before whirling to grasp Marcello. “We need to go! Marcello do you hear me!?”

“No… no we can’t,” he strangled out.

“Yes we can!” Lucian gave a final tug, nearly ripping Marcello off his feet.

The man stumbled back and numbly rounded to swing atop the other hippogriff with Lucian at the front. In seconds they streaked through the air as it tore wetness from Marcello’s face. He curled his fingers tight into Lucian from behind. “The portals,” he hissed, the feeling raw on his throat. “Get there. I can activate them again.”

Lucian snapped ahead to direct Aven as they whipped around towards the hoops hovering in the air. It gave Marcello the time to look back. He watched the ground where Kendyll fell. Swept the tower their horses had abandoned among the chaos. Then finally the dragon as it timed its chase and began to close the distance.

He slammed his eyes shut, a sob swept away by the blistering wind. Close. They were nearing the portals. He could feel their magic. For what?

What was he doing abandoning her?! Fleeing from the creature that killed her.

Past the numb tingling of his fingertips and the cold strangling his chest, he felt a rise of boiling hatred.

“Marcello! Now!”

Marcello’s eyes snapped open in time to see the approaching portal, and with a snarl he casted both of his hands outwards. Crackles of magic splintered from his fingers and surged against the hoop from its center. Extending out with a deep purple glow, it hummed to life just in time for them to race right through.

Behind, the portal shrank closed as the dragon gave a furious roar, the terrain of the swamp and his sister’s resting place disappearing from sight. As they hurtled through time and space without direction, Marcello’s breath expelled in a choked sob.

Kendyll was gone.