T he proximity of Erinaeus finally gave Lian the nerve to look up into the face of the man that took the merchant's own dream many years ago. Though the hood still hid most of the man's skin, one thing stood out. A single deep red crimson eye stared at him though the veiled darkness. It throbbed with a wraithlike power, the hatred it held palpable in the still air of the room. A slight repugnant odor of decaying flesh assailed his nostrils. Lian nearly fainted. What was this man in front of him now? Was he even a man anymore?
The obvious revulsion in the merchant's eyes must have aggravated the wizard, because he released Lian's jaw with a start. Instead, choosing to pace back and forth in front of Lian. "Enough idle chit chat. You know why I came here, don't you?"
The answer was obvious. "To kill me I assume?" Curiosity gnawed away at Lian, anything to distract his thoughts on the nature of the man in front of him. "Why did you wait until now? Why do you continue this madness?" Lian's jaw locked up again at the outburst, something he said antagonized the wizard.
"Isn't it obvious?" Realizing his spell still held the man inert, the wizard continued. "You still had a use. A hunter does not kill the dog that keeps the bear in the cave."
What was he talking about? Then it dawned on Lian. Antaigne!
"As long as you lived, that fool dwarf friend of yours would be nearby. Friendship has always been a fool's concept. In other words, you were a convenient landmark for when I would be able to get around to eliminating Antaigne. But you are no longer a use to me. Antaigne is dead."
Lian swooned; his world was turned upside down at that simple remark. He wanted to deny what the wizard said, hold onto the hope that perhaps the man, no, the thing, was lying, but it only took one look at that confident way the wizard stood that what he said must be true. A single tear ran down his cheek as he stared at the thing that had killed his best friend. "And my son?"
"Probably dead too," the wizard remarked in an offhanded manner that infuriated the merchant.
Lian felt dizzy, he wanted to scream, to curl up in a ball and cry until he could feel no more. But the paralysis spell on him was strong. The most it allowed was a stream of tears that even now ran freely down the old man's face. Denied the right to grieve correctly, Lian did the next logical thing.
He hated. Replacing his sadness with rage, he struggled against the enchantment and thus, the thing in front of him, with a renewed vigor that even caused Erinaeus to give pause. Unfortunately, the old man's heart just wasn't enough to overcome reality, for the spell held firm.
"I tire of this. . . now how should I kill you?" Erinaeus paced around Lian lazily, his voice calm and casual, a mockery of conversational tones used between friends, instead of the true intentions behind the words. "I thought of this moment often over the past twenty one years. I just have so many options. . . I don't know where to start."
The wizard gave Lian a sudden shove, forcing him back into his chair with a snap. Lian found himself looking up at the light blue of his ceiling, jaw locked open. Erinaeus loomed over him with his bottle of rum. "What about death by drowning? I did say this stuff would kill you. . . "
The contents were poured down his throat. Panicking, Lian couldn't even gag and he felt the liquid smothering him like a pillow settling in his throat. He couldn't breathe. Holding his breath as long as he could, the dizziness got stronger, his panic slowly ebbed away. He felt tired. Sleep was denied as the wizard forced his head down at the last moment, the rum soaking Lian's chest and pants as he coughed it up. Gasping for air, the best he could manage was a death glare at the wizard as he tried to reorient himself. An empty threat they both knew.
"But I figure, if you die now, that would ruin my fun. What about fire? Ever wonder what a cigar feels like? Judging from the stench of this room, you really haven't." The wizard's ramblings were becoming more eccentric now.
Holding up a single, bony white finger, which now flared a deep scarlet color, he touched it to Lian's forearm. Pain shot up the arm like a white hot knife, the putrid smell of burning flesh filled Lian's nostrils. Erinaeus blazed a trail up the merchant's arm, leaving nothing but suffering in his wake. He would linger at one area, teasing like a lover, and then jump to another where he would jam the finger hard against the skin. Methodical and merciless, never did he go over the same area twice. Sometimes he would go fast, other times slow. It seemed to go on forever. Losing track of time and fading in and out of consciousness, Lian was barely aware that the wizard had stopped.
"Well, that was enjoyable wasn't it?" Erinaeus said cheerfully as he sat on the edge of Lian's desk, absently examining a paper weight the merchant had gotten at a distant port. It was scrimshaw of the Goddess Avalene, poised, collected and sensual. A unique interpretive view of the Goddess compared to the more conservative images one could acquire around Lorinia. It was one of Lian's favorite pieces.
"Bastard," Lian managed to gasp. Remarkably, when he hazarded a glance, not a single mark from his torture showed itself on his person. Erinaeus shrugged, tossing the statue to the hardwood floor where it skidded a bit before coming to rest against the side of the wall. The wizard maneuvered himself to where he was sitting in front of Lian. He had seemed to have come to a decision.
"Alright, I'm a busy man. As much as I enjoyed our little reunion , it's time to end this." The wizard gripped Lian's head, forcing the merchant to again stare him unwillingly in the face, most of it still hidden by the darkness of the cowl, at the one flame red eye that even now burned with the fire of the wizard's will. "This is a spell I made myself, just for you, for this moment. I hope you enjoy the love and effort that I put in to this. You are the first. You should feel honored," Erinaeus whispered, all pretense of goodwill and sarcasm gone, leaving only his loathing and hatred for Lian.
"Death is too good for the likes of you," he continued, mimicking Lian's earlier words.
The wizard's fingers started moving in the archaic sigils and runes of the Kra'nael along the sides of the sailor's head, leaving Lian to only speculate of what was in store for him. As the spell casting grew more frantic, Lian, still paralyzed, hoped that perhaps the dwarf and his son had gotten away. Now that he knew death was upon him, he found he had achieved an inner peace with the prospect. There was nothing he could do but sit back and wait. A part of the merchant hated the fact that he had basically given up, but it went ignored.
He could not fight this wizard, and the man had taken everything Lian had considered valuable in his life, coming back to finish what had started twenty one years ago. Lian was done fighting and he was weary of being hurt. Once the wizard finished, he would never feel again..
The wizard punctuated the crescendo with a sharp jab to Lian's temples with both of his thumbs. The last thing Lian saw was the smiling crimson eye of Erinaeus staring back at him in victory. He let out a slight gasp as his own eyes rolled into his head for a moment, when they settled back, the stare was empty and void of life.
❧ ❧ ❧
Erinaeus grinned as he dismissed the paralysis spell holding Lian inert, for it was no longer needed. Though the merchant gave no outward appearance of being affected by the wizard's latest concoction, he could see the man's hands gripping the arms of his chair hard enough to turn the knuckles white.
He truly enjoyed watching the spectacle before him, the obvious pain in the merchant's eyes was a literal high for him. He spent at least several minutes watching each slight grimace, every minute sign of pain, his grin getting wider and wider to match the pulsing red orb that glowed on its own accord. It was something he could have stayed to observe for the entire day.
Alas, the telltale sound of a wizard porting into the room interrupted the show. He knew who it was, so there was no alarm in his movements, after all, there was only one wizard who could manage to make a gate annoying.
"You done here?" Every time Erinaeus heard that tone, he had to restrain himself from roasting the diminutive man right there.
"I am." He waved his hand with a flourish over to the prone Lian, still staring into space at the wizard's side.
"What did you do to him?" Elrik, completely missing the annoyed undertone of Erinaeus's reply, scurried over to the merchant's side. Erinaeus had to remind himself of the benefits of leaving him alive. He moved aside, as much to allow his fellow wizard to inspect Lian as to be away from him.
"It's a little spell I concocted." Erinaeus allowed himself to inject a little pride in his voice. "An illusion spell that forces the recipient to relive his own death in his mind, over and over again. What better way to kill a man more than once?" It truly was a work of art. The complications of a spell that involved warping the mind and then keep it enthralled were very painstaking.
The bald wizard's brown eyes grew wide with respect and, Erinaeus noted approvingly, a twinge of panic. He tolerated the small wizard for a few minutes, watching the man wave his hands comically in front of Lian in an attempt to garner the spell struck merchant's attention.
Erinaeus noted that his cohort seemed a bit worse for the wear, there were burn spots along the man's dark red robes, and the slight smell of sulfur permeated the musky tang of cigars the room had acquired. He even noticed a thin trickle of blood running from the smaller guy's hand, which would explain why the normally left handed wizard was using his other appendage as he investigated Erinaeus's handiwork.