THE ERROR OF HIS WAYS
With much reluctance Mahal, the tavern girl and sister to Alderia, the matron of the Oasis she owned, accompanied Torak to the entrance of the dark citadel that she had so often seen from afar. Before going inside, Torak offered her a draught to calm her down. "This will help steel your nerves and help you seem less fearful to him. If he detects any kind of pretense on your part he will be most unhappy with me. I promise you, if you go through this you will never have any want - he will bestow such riches upon you that you shall live like a queen for the rest of your life," he swore, handing her a small flask containing a purple liquid.
She took it from him but gazed into his eyes. "Treasure is it? For me, or for you?"
He appeared truly hurt by the accusation. "My love, all for you. I want nothing more out of life than your happiness. With the gold and jewels he gives you, you will be able to buy your own place. No longer will you have to live with that, well, domineering sister who hates me."
Mahal thought for a moment, turning her eyes to the bubbling liquid which smelled like fresh lavender and honey. She tasted it first and waited. Nothing happened.
"It takes a bit of time to work, but when it does you will have all the confidence you need," he promised.
She drank the rest of it down in one gulp. It was quite pleasant, with hints of grape juice and black currant. The glow she soon felt made her head swim a bit but not to the point of intoxication. He motioned her forward, leading her up the long flight of stairs toward the tall gleaming doors of the castle. By the time she had got to the top, she felt a calming sensation take hold and she laughed a bit, enjoying it.
Once inside she felt no apprehension at all, at either the guards dressed in crimson bone armor nor the green-black tiles of the floor or the black stone glistening walls. She even gazed nonchalantly at the tarnished bronze statue of a mage, hands outstretched toward the doors, as if casting a spell upon all who entered. Her escort led her to a teleporter and soon she was standing with him in the presence of a man sitting on a throne made entirely of yellowing bones. Even that, to her, was amusing. They stopped before him and Torak bowed low to the hooded man in the black robe. "She is here, m'lord," he said. "I have done as you bade me."
The man leaned forward slightly. "Bring her closer that I may see her more clearly," he commanded. She wanted to laugh at the sound of his gurgling voice but Torak shook his head at seeing the smile cross her lips and she held it back. Still, she obeyed the gestures of her escort, taking a few steps closer to the stranger... until she could see his eyes, pinpoints of crimson fire and his mouth, filled with long teeth as if plucked from a skull. She had the urge to run, but it was quelled as if she were in a dream state, so she only stared at him.
Scaramandine, the Elder, sat back in his throne. "Who is this?" he asked.
Torak stepped toward her. "Let her tell you, sire," he responded.
"I am Deminatza," she said. "I am your friend. I heard you were concerned about me so I came to comfort you." The voice was hers but the words were not.
"Torak. Ye disappoint me. Greatly. This is not Deminatza. Why have ye sought to deceive me?" The lich's eyes flared. "Take ye me for a fool?"
"Not at all sire! It is she! I swear it on my life! I did as you asked. I brought her for you to see her. Now that you have, please remove the curse from me, and let us go in peace," he pleaded, bowing low.
"She is not Deminatza," the Elder rebutted. "I can see that for myself. My Deminatza would have aged somewhat, but her beauty was far beyond that of this poor drugged soul," he explained.
"But look, sire, she wears the blue cloth. Ask her about her husband and their child. She knows!"
Mahal nodded as if on queue. "I have a husband, Scar and a child named Chasity," she added.
"Thou poor fool," the Elder told her, shaking his head. "This maggot has drugged thee. He has brought thee here to die, that he may escape and return to his true love in another realm."
Mahal regained a small measure of her senses upon hearing his words. She turned her head slowly to stare at Torak. Her jaw dropped a little.
Torak ignored her, instead focusing on the Elder, raising his arms to emphasize his compliance and fealty. "No, m'lord! I swear it is she!"
"Do ye still swear upon thy life? I know whom I seek for we have met oft before!"
Torak hesitated, and then knew he was lost. He had no idea that the Elder knew the real Deminatza from sometime in the past.
Looking to the girl the Elder waved her away with a skeletal, rotting, hand. "Go! Live a while longer. This... cur... is unworthy of thee. Forget him. Go now, before I reconsider and smother what small charity and mercy I still possess."
Mahal, still under the effects of the drug, complied, running swiftly from the room. She did not look back until she entered the Oasis tavern, weeping and trembling with horror and fear.
Torak watched her leave and turned back to face the angry lich. His legs wanted to move but they could not. Fear seized him and froze him where he stood. "My lord... please... understand... I could not bring her to you. I am in love with her. If she will only confess her love to me, then we would be one. Love makes men do crazy things and I..."
"Enough of thy blathering. I should kill thee for this perfidy. Yet," the lich leaned forward again, "I find thy courage stimulating and thy intelligence appealing. Ye have an inventive mind, far greater than most of thy kind. I shall allow thee to live," he adjudicated.
Torak breathed a sigh of relief and fell to his knees, hands clenched to beg. "It will not happen again m'lord! Please, please, let me return to her. I swear I will bring her over. Please!!"
The Elder Scaramandine extended his arm and pointed a bony finger toward the doorway. "Do so and soon."
Getting to his feet, Torak bowed and turned to leave.
"Torak!"
The man so called turned around.
A flash of green light erupted from the lich's finger and streaked toward him, hitting him square in the face. The Strangle spell went to work immediately. Torak's knees wobbled as he clutched his throat. His face reddened as he fought for air. His head swam and he fell chest first onto the cold stone floor gasping. In a few moments, just before he believed he would expire, it lifted.
The Elder sat back in his throne. "A reminder. There will be no other. Fail in thy word and thy fate will be sealed," he warned.
Weakened from the lack of oxygen, Torak crawled away on all fours until he reached the doorway.
"Worm," uttered the lich.