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Evermore: The Gathering	By : RosaTenebrum Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 9663 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Dragonlance series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER 35

The light of day was fading fast, giving way to another restless night. Soon darkness would settle over the city - not the soft, long twlight of summer evenings, but the foggy blackness of autumn against which the lanterns and candles lit in the windows offered only a momentary fence.

Still wet from the storm that had battered the streets in a heavy shower of rain and hail, Adik turned into an alley just as a gust of wind tore through the narrow passage, making him shiver. Pulling his cloak tighter around him, the acolyte walked on. The outpour had slowed down to a cold drizzle; hard pellets of ice lay melting on the ground that cracked beneath his steps. The rain had put out the diversionary fires he and his men had started around the city: smoke was rising in thin wisps from the torched harvest displays and blackened wreaths on doors. A couple of market stalls had been burnt down completely, but Adik saw no bodies. There were no armed rebels either. Farag, Jankyn and Seth were somewhere nearby, soon making their way back to the old temple that they had set up as their headquarters; the rest of the Agents of Paladine's Retribution were already there, interrogating the members of the vestry and several other Revered Sons and Daughters they had successfully detained, reciting the Blood Sea Scrolls and offering the heretics a chance to recant. And then there was the mob, of course, consisting of hundreds of laymen: they had surged towards the temple in a frenzy when the rain began, hoping to get their hands on Revered Daughter Crysania.

Good, Adik thought. Let them go and spread Paladine's justice. Lots of heretics to torture there. Not Crysania, though; Acolyte Beldinas had investigated earlier and discovered that the woman had been spirited away to safety at the first sign of unrest. But they would track her down. They would find the blind bitch and her Nuitari lover, and then they would punish them according to Paladine's holy law. The thought of those two together, coated in perspiration and writhing in passion on rumpled sheets made Adik sick to his stomach and he marched faster, swinging his arms, anger giving speed to his gait. Who knows, perhaps they were together right now, in that cursed black tower which stood as an eyesore in the middle of an otherwise salutary landscape? Maybe that's where she was, sweating, writhing... Who would condone such perversities? Not Adik. Fear ye the false prophetess; for under the habit of holiness is covered much wickedness.

Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled like a dragon. Adik turned right and on impulse decided to take a shortcut through the Bredell stableyard. He crossed the quiet yard quickly, avoiding the pools of mud and water. He was just approaching the alley that led away from the area, when he looked up and saw, at the mouth of the alley, a figure in grey.

An eerie feeling possessed Adik. He stopped, and so did the hooded, grey-robed man. For an instant the man looked at him across the yard and then turned around hurriedly to go back through the same way he had come from.

Adik's heart was pounding still, but a slow smile was spreading on his lips. Spooked by a friend, how silly! "Beldinas, wait!" he shouted after the man, but Beldinas did not stop. Shaking his head and smiling, Adik rushed after the acolyte.

The alleyway was very dark, but Adik could see Beldinas ahead of him: half-running, the man had already reached the end of the passage. He did not turn to look when Adik again called out his name.

Perplexed, Adik picked up speed. Impossible that Beldinas hadn't seen him or heard him, although jugding from the spectacles he wore, he did have some problems with his eyesight. Maybe he had mistaken Adik for an enemy? "Wait!" Adik yelled. "It's just me, Adik!"

But Beldinas kept pushing forward into the dark, and Adik had no option but to follow him. On and on they went, past dark-windowed houses and stores closed for the night, over the bridge and towards the Great Library. The governmental buildings loomed in the dark on either side, large and majestic, creating a tunnel that absorbed the sound of their steps as Beldinas led Adik deeper into the heart of the city. Here, away from the rioting, the streets were deserted and people were sleeping peacefully in their homes. Adik looked at the buildings around him, getting more confused by the minute. Weren't they going the wrong way? If Beldinas was headed to the temple where they were supposed to meet, he certainly had a strange idea of the map of the city.

The light drizzle turned into a heavy drizzle which then turned to rain again, beating down on the cobblestones beneath Adik's boots. He had to further increase his pace to keep up with Beldinas. Beldinas was a little bit taller than him and much more slimmer in build, but Adik was nevertheless surprised by how quick and quiet and nimble the acolyte's steps were; the three bags that he was carrying - what on earth could be in them? - did not seem to slow him down at all. Suddenly an uneasy thought occurred to Adik: what if Beldinas had died in the riots and it was his ghost that he was now following? Embarrassed, he told himself to get a grip.

"Beldinas!" Adik shouted again, his voice ragged from running, no longer expecting an answer and not receiving one. Again that unexplainable eerie feeling started to creep on him - something was wrong, wasn't it? - and he slowed down his steps, no longer caring about catching Beldinas who disappeared around the corner. Adik stopped, leaning his hands on his knees to gasp for breath. He decided to turn back. He could ask Beldinas for an explanation later on at the temple.

The rain had ceased. Adik retraced his steps down the street; he walked fast with his head down, pretending that he wasn't feeling nervous, unable to shake off his unease. He rounded a corner, glanced up and very nearly screamed out loud: there, only a couple of steps away from him, Beldinas. Looking straight at Adik, calm and casual, as if he had been expecting him in this dark and dismal alley all along. Adik now saw that the acolyte wasn't wearing his glasses - he must be lost, that's what it was all about, Adik thought distractedly, even as he realised that Beldinas had also removed his hood. Adik had not seen him without it before and was surprised to learn that, unlike most acolytes, Beldinas wore his hair long.

Before Adik could speak, Beldinas said in a voice that chilled Adik to the bone, "Oh, Adik. You had to come after me. How I wish you wouldn't have."

"Wh-what?" Adik stammered, instinctively backing away as Beldinas took a step towards him. Now he knew why the acolyte's voice had chilled him so: because he had never heard it before. Beldinas spoke in a shy, barely audible voice - not like this, not in a voice that was cold and calculating, entirely devoid of emotion and warmth.

In a state of dull amazement, Adik stumbled backwards as if drugged, staring helplessly at Beldinas as he kept coming closer and closer; he was still trying to wrap his brain around the situation, when Beldinas suddenly made a movement with his hand, a quick flash, and the worst pain Adik had ever experienced lashed across his gut.

Adik convulsed in agony and his arms shot out, grabbing Beldinas as if inviting him to a gory dance. He couldn't breathe; his eyes bulged out of his head and his tongue had turned to stone in his mouth. But he could not stop staring at Beldinas. The acolyte's face was a passive mask: he was taking his life without flinching, without blinking, and Adik felt himself slowly sinking down towards the muddy ground in Beldinas's grasp, falling, still falling into some deep and terrible pit, and he saw the long, white coils of Beldinas's hair, he saw his eyes and understanding slid into him like an icicle.

"You..." It was a weak exhalation.

He was starting to lose consciousness: he remembered, in a flash of illumination, all that he had ever read about the War of the Lance and the people who fought in it, a snippet of a song, a line from a poem, and he wanted to let go, but he couldn't: he was still clinging to the man's arms, staring into his distorted pupils as he dug the knife deeper into his gut. For a second his mask cracked: something flickered in his eyes, allowing a peek inside, too brief and too hideous for Adik to read it.

Only when the mage pulled the knife out of his intestines, wet and black with his blood, did Adik's breath escape in a huge gasp. He slumped down onto the ground at the man's feet, desperately cupping his hands over the gash in his stomach. The next thing he knew he was on his back on the filthy ground, straining for breath. His blood felt hot on his body. He closed his eyes, not able to believe it would end like this.

The mage was standing above him, staring down at his death struggle. His mouth moved, but Adik could not make out what he was saying. He had gone deaf save for the heartbeat drumming in his ears.

The next time Adik opened his eyes, the mage was gone.

*

The man on the ground was badly wounded. He lay on his back with his hands clasped over his stomach, coughing and gasping for air. It was dark in the alley, but Farag could see the man's robe was grey, and he could also see the mass of blonde hair on the head lying pitifully in a pool of rain water.

Feeling sick all of a sudden, Farag started to approach. "Adik?" he said, hardly able to speak the name. "That you?"

There was no answer, but Farag didn't need one. With a cry of dismay he squatted down beside his friend and saw at once he was beyond help: the stab wound in his belly was not wide but it was very deep, pulsing black blood between Adik's convulsed fingers. Nasty to do it like that, Farag thought to himself, shuddering. Slashing the throat would have been quick and merciful; a stab in the stomach guaranteed a slow and painful death.

"Farag, friend? Praise Paladine!" Adik's faint voice was filled with hope. A garish grimace of pain was stuck on his face.

"Who did this to you, Adik? Who?" Farag demanded, gently caressing the man's hair in a pathetic attempt to ease his pain.

"Beldinas... He's not..." Adik panted, but his words turned into a gurgle and he began to cough.

Stunned, Farag put his ear closer to Adik's cold lips. "What are you saying? What about Beldinas?"

"The mage... Majere..." Adik fell silent, gathering strength to continue.

"Yes?"

"Beldinas... is him."

Farag drew away and gaped down at his dying colleague, stricken dumb with amazement. Had Adik lost his mind? Already the man's eyes were starting to glaze over. His head lolled back and he went limp in Farag's grasp.

"Adik! Adik, stay with me!" Farag cried, his voice sounding eerie in the silent alley. "'Beldinas is him' - what does that mean?"

Adik's eyes cracked open once more, but there was no sign he had heard Farag. He made one final effort to speak and whispered, "You must go after him. The Bredell stables..."

"I will, I promise," Farag said quickly, covering Adik's bloodied hand with his own. "I'll bring the others too."

Adik swallowed painfully. "Go... not much time..."

Farag placed a hand on Adik's cheek. "Be of good cheer, brother," he whispered, feeling tears fill his eyes, "for today your soul shall abide in Paladine's glory."

Adik nodded heavily. A feeble smile crept to his white face.

Moving his hand to Acolyte Adik's clammy forehead, Acolyte Farag began to pray, and he kept on praying until he could feel Adik's spirit slowly leave his body and fly out of the dark alley, from the pain of this world to glory everlasting.
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Evermore: The Gathering