The Chained Maiden: Bound by Hope Read online

  The Chained Maiden

  Bound by Hope

  Ian Rodgers

  Text Copyright ©2019 Ian Rodgers

  All Rights Reserved

  Family and friends are not easy to forget, even when you drift apart. Make sure you always remind them that you care for them.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: A whole lot of waiting

  Chapter 2: A search for answers

  Chapter 3: The Stone Pit

  Chapter 4: A terrible darkness

  Chapter 5: The dead that walk

  Chapter 6: Ivory and Silver

  Chapter 7: Reunion

  Chapter 8: Mermaids and tears

  Chapter 9: The town of tears

  Chapter 10: The true nature

  Chapter 11: To the south we go!

  Chapter 12: Travel the wilds

  Chapter 13: Divine meetings and betrayal

  Chapter 14: An old and yellow moon

  Chapter 15: Into the green

  Chapter 16: The Jungle’s people

  Chapter 17: Beasts and belief

  Chapter 18: Savages

  Chapter 19: The Unchained

  Chapter 20: An Avatar and a Chosen One

  Chapter 21: The edge of the Void

  Chapter 1: A whole lot of waiting

  “Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

  Dora bit back a sigh, and merely nodded her head. “Yes, Enrai. I’ll be fine here while you and Ain are gone.”

  The Qwanese Monk scratched his recently shaved head. “Because we could take you with us if you want…”

  “It’s kind of you to offer, but seriously! I’m fine. I will be safe here. No one in Creidor would dare to harm a Healer, let alone one who is a guest of Reed,” Dora said with a patient smile. “Besides, I have Rindel with me as well!”

  Enrai shot a glance towards the blue-haired gnome with two peg-legs who stood next to the green-skinned Healer and frowned. Seeing the incredulous look on the Monk’s face, the diminutive man pulled out a few throwing daggers and played with them menacingly.

  “Point taken,” Enrai muttered, looking away from the gnome and back to the young half-orc. This time Dora did sigh, but it was accompanied by a tiny smile.

  “Your concern is touching. And I understand that you both feel uncomfortable leaving me behind with your oath still unfinished. But you have an important package to deliver.”

  “She’s correct,” a melodic voice called out. Enrai turned to face a tall and thin male with pale blonde hair and a pair of sharp, knife-like ears astride a horse. Sharing the front of the saddle with the elf was a young Qwanese boy, who waved happily at Dora. The Healer waved back.

  “We need to go now before time runs out,” Ain said sharply. “I’d rather not let my mentor get executed because we took too long to return after rescuing the kid.”

  There was no argument Enrai could make, so he turned away from Dora and headed back to his horse.

  “We’ll be back as fast as we can!” Enrai declared as he mounted his steed. “Wait for us!”

  “Sure thing!” Dora said. She waved at the trio as they rode off. Soon, their horses disappeared into the dusty streets of Creidor, and their long journey out of the Dreadlands began.

  Once she was sure they were gone, Dora’s smile faded. She glanced down at Rindel. “Still no word from Reed’s mysterious contact?”

  The gnome shook his head. “No. At least, none that I’m aware of.” He patted Dora on her leg in a comforting manner. “Don’t worry too much, Dora. Reed gave his word. Everything will be fine.”

  “I know that. I just can’t help but worry…” Dora muttered.

  “They are a tough group. They’re alive, and probably chomping at the bit to escape!” Rindel exclaimed with a laugh.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Dora grinned. “I bet Holt has his hands full trying to keep the rest of the guys in line! And Uldo will be pacing back and forth so much he could probably escape through the hole he’s no doubt worn into the floor!”

  “And no doubt Reesh will be annoyed that he’s the one that has to be rescued like a damsel,” the blue-haired gnome chuckled. “And Scarrot! Woo boy, I’d hate to be one of his captors when he gets free!”

  Dora’s smile twitched at the mention of her boss, and Rindel mentally slapped himself for his stupidity. The head of the Yellow Moon Menagerie was still a sore subject for the half-orc.

  “Anyways, we should probably head back inside,” the double peg-legged man suggested, as he hobbled back into the manor. Dora nodded slowly, sparing one last glance in the direction her companions had gone.

  Traveling back from Rahmal’Alram to Creidor had been a relatively smooth journey. The people of Saluda were quite thankful to the group for saving an entire city from a plague of Undead, and that made crossing the dessert easier. And once they made it to the Cracked Land portion of the Dreadlands, Dora’s intimate knowledge of the terrain and its inhabitants ensured safe passage back to the major trading hub that was Creidor, the Town of Dust.

  Only a handful of monsters appeared during their return, and were no match for the two elite warriors, Ain and Enrai. Then, the elf and Monk had only spent a single day resting up in Creidor before preparing to return to their respective homelands. The boy they’d rescued had to be brought back to his clan soon, or else war might spring up between two very powerful nations. And that was not a situation anyone wanted.

  Thinking back on the events of their mission, Dora was still curious about a few points that just didn’t add up. Like the strange creature which had slain the Emir and his son, or the fact that the Necromancer she’d been contracted to put down had a master who couldn’t be bothered to do it himself.

  And then there was the light. That strange, almost holy, silver light that had engulfed her when she’d been cornered by the Necromancer. It had been unlike anything her Healing magic should have been able to produce, yet it felt as if it had always been a part of her. And that frightened Dora. Was this what Kari had seen in her, way back when Dora had taken that poor girl to the slave market in Annod Bol? Was this the reason powerful individuals such as Naliot the Chained God were starting to pay attention to her?

  She didn’t like it at all, but what could she do? Dora stifled a groan of annoyance as she banished her thoughts to the back of her mind for now. Stepping inside the manor, she breathed out in relief as coolness replaced the sharp heat of the dusty world outside.

  The click of a cane brought her attention over to a tall, hunched man who approached the gnome and half-orc.

  “I take it you’ve seen off the three of them?” the owner of the mansion questioned as he approached.

  This man was none other than ‘Blackjack’ Reed. His past was shrouded in violence and more than a little bit of mystery. But he had ruled Creidor for nigh on fifty years, and his name carried weight that could only be matched by the most successful of slavers and the dreaded Tower Lords of Annod Bol.

  And, to Dora’s immense relief, he was a fair-handed man in spite of his violence who was also close friends with the Yellow Moon Menagerie. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to pay back the kindness he had shown her and her companions.

  “We did. They’re on their way back,” Rindel confirmed, bowing his head politely towards the grey-haired figure.

  “Good, good. If they keep up a decent speed, they should reach the Domain’s borders in a week, and after that, a few days at sea will see them back in Qwan. And hopefully, we won’t have to deal with a war on our doorsteps,” the gentleman said, before coughing weakly.

  “Would a conflict between the Domain and the Empire of Qwan really affect us here, in the Dreadlands?” Dora question.
<
br />   Her knowledge of geography was sketchy, but the Domain had very little presence in the area. Most of their forts in the east bordering the desolate wasteland were there mostly for show and had no reason to claim any resources because the Cracked Land simply didn’t have any.

  “Not directly, no. But trade would be disrupted, making it harder to get food and other supplies. And, if we were unlucky, Partaevia might decide to attack The Second Elfish Domain when their attention is elsewhere. And as Partaevia’s legions march towards the Domain’s borders, no doubt a few scouting parties and raids would venture our way,” the elderly man explained. “No, it is best that war not erupt between two giants, because when they fight, they tend to destroy everything around them without a care.”

  Dora nodded. Reed’s words made sense. And there was also the unspoken fact that if Partaevia did choose to jump in on the conflict, their soldiers would see Creidor and the other minor settlements of the Cracked Land as little more than places for free supplies and maybe spots for a round of good old-fashioned pillaging.

  “So, how long will I have to wait until this client of yours deigns to meet with me?” Dora inquired. Reed’s face became pained and he winced.

  “I do not know. He is the one who contacts me, not the other way around.”

  “I see,” the mint green-skinned Healer muttered. “Then can I work with the town’s doctor while I wait? I don’t want to laze around when I could be doing something helpful.”

  “Fair enough,” Reed said, giving her his permission with a nod.

  She beamed happily and gave him a quick hug. “Thank you!”

  Dora then ran off through the halls to grab her Healer garb.

  As the half-orc darted away, Rindel gave Reed a wide, knowing grin. “Feisty, isn’t she?”

  “Indeed,” the mayor of Creidor replied dryly, but there was a distinct note of wistfulness in his tone. “She truly reminds me of… him. When he was younger, of course.”

  “So, it’s true then?” Rindel asked. Reed nodded.

  “Yes. I’ve known it since the beginning.” A melancholic look overtook his face. It was quickly banished as he shook his head, and the calm and collected expression reclaimed its throne on Reed’s face.

  “Come along, Rindel. Documents and business expenses won’t file themselves.”

  “You’d think after all these years some mage would have come up with a spell to do it for them,” the gnome muttered darkly as he thought of the stacks of parchment that awaited them.

  “I believe they did try at one point but stopped after it created more problems than it solved.”

  “What kind of problems?”

  “Oh, you know, bringing the files to life as deformed papery golems, sentient quills with a thirst for blood and ink, accidentally transmuting skin into parchment…” Reed recounted, listing off the terrible failures mages had encountered when trying to vanquish the dreaded foe known as paperwork.

  Rindel blanched and wiped some sweat off his forehead. “On second thought, the normal way has worked for centuries! Why change it now?”

  “Now you get it!” Reed laughed. “Silly mages! Always trying to find ridiculous answers for the simplest of tasks!”

  ∞.∞.∞

  In a great tower that was the center for magical academia in Orria, a nearly century old man in wizardly robes sneezed, then looked around with an annoyed expression.

  “Someone’s talking smack about us mages,” Arnolt Cantos muttered with a scowl. He then shrugged and glared down at his paperwork he’d been dealing with. He was sorely tempted to use one of the forbidden spells to get it done faster.

  “Maybe a little bit of magic won’t hurt…” he mumbled, reaching for his staff.

  ∞.∞.∞

  “Why do I get the feeling something stupid just happened?” Dora wondered aloud. She shook her head to dismiss that thought from her head. “Ugh, why am I talking to myself?”

  “It’s only a sign of insanity when other voices start talking back,” a maid commented from a corner of the room. “That, or a sign of possession or being contacted via telepathy.”

  “Gah!” Dora cried, jumping in shock. “How long were you there?!”

  “The whole time,” the maid stated. “Or did you forget Master Reed assigned me to you when you arrived yesterday?”

  “Sorry, I forgot,” Dora muttered sheepishly.

  “So, you’re saying you didn’t notice me at all? That I just blended into the background of the scenery like a mere decorative plant, or a tasteful piece of art?” the maid asked, pouting.

  “I’m really, really sorry,” the Healer claimed, bowing her head in apology.

  “Perfect. That means I’ve still got it!” the maid declared, a victorious smirk on her lips.

  “Wait, what?” Dora demanded, confused.

  “Oh, didn’t you know? Amongst servants, being unnoticed unless needed is a highly regarded art. They even have schools for it in Orria and Par-Orria, you know,” the maid noted.

  “If you’re so well trained and disciplined, what in the Six Hells are you doing in the Cracked Land serving Reed? Shouldn’t you be in a noble’s mansion somewhere?” the half-orc inquired.

  “Oh, I used to be. But then I murdered my former employer and had to flee the law. Despite the fact that the fat pig had it coming, killing the person who hires you is seen as bad form,” the maid said matter-of-factly. A sharp, cold light filled the woman’s eyes, and Dora gulped in fear.

  “Should I be worried for Reed’s safety?” the Healer asked hesitantly.

  “Not at all! In fact, he’s one of the best employers I’ve had!” the maid said happily. “When he kills a dissenter, he always cleans up after himself, instead of making us do it! He never tries to force the staff to sleep with him, nor does he have a sex dungeon! Just the regular kind! And he gives us alternating Nuldays off!”

  “Well. As long as you’re happy,” Dora said weakly. She looked around her room and grabbed her faded and worn Healer’s robe, as well as her various potions and medical supplies.

  “I’m off to the clinic, now. Are you going to follow me?” she asked curiously.

  “Don’t worry, you won’t even notice I’m there, standing behind you at all times. Watching you. Protecting you. Serving you.”

  “Yeah, no, that’s not creepy at all!” Dora laughed nervously. The maid laughed too. And the pair of the left the mansion, laughing together.

  Chapter 2: A search for answers

  “Good work today, Dora!” a middle-aged man with a scraggly beard commented, smiling at the half-orc.

  She wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow and smiled back. “Thank you, Dr. Needle. It was my pleasure.”

  “Oh, Dora, I’ve told you, there’s no need to call me ‘Doctor!’ After all, I lost my license!” the town’s sole medical practitioner claimed with a chuckle.

  Dora chuckled weakly as well.

  “Seriously, though, you’ve been a great help,” Needle said as he cleaned off his medical implements. “Having an actual Healer assisting has greatly reduced the number of repeat customers.”

  “I understand. It’s a real pain trying to keep the dust out of everything,” Dora agreed. The major killer in the Cracked Land was not the monsters, or the marauders. It was the all-pervading grey dust that coated the landscape.

  It got everywhere. Into food and water, rendering it gritty and foul. Into the clothes and armor, creating terrible chafes and rashes. And when the dust seeped into bandages or open wounds, infection set in shortly after. The doctors in the Cracked Land had their work cut out for them, keeping their patients’ wounds clean long enough so they could heal. It was why Healers, or really anyone who could close up wounds with magic, were in such demand.

  And Dora liked her work. Back home, it’d been a source of comfort, and a shared profession with her beloved mother. Even after joining up with the Yellow Moon Menagerie, she’d continued healing and helping those who needed it. It reminded her of the good
times, back when her mother had been alive. And, the act of healing gave her the tiniest bit of relief from the guilt that had been a constant part of her life ever since she’d become a slaver over three years ago.

  Dora sighed heavily. Now that the last of the customers had left, and the clinic was closing, there was nothing keeping her mind from drifting towards unpleasant memories.

  Sensing her mood, Don’t-call-me-Doctor Needle shooed her out of the clinic, and sent her back towards Reed’s manor.

  Rather than head straight back, she wandered through the streets of Creidor, deep in thought.

  Two weeks had gone by since her friends had left. According the Reed’s estimation, Enrai and Ain should be back in Distant Qwan, delivering the kidnapped Bo Clan’s heir back to his family. From then, it would be another two weeks before they managed to make their way back to Creidor.

  “I despise waiting,” Dora grumbled, kicking a loose stone dejectedly. She then paused as the rock bounced off the town’s wall. She looked up and found that her wandering had led her to the edifice encircling Creidor.

  After a moment’s thought, she decided to climb up the stairs that led to the battlements. Waving at a few of the guards, she arrived at the top of the wall and stood there, looking over the grey and dusty landscape.

  A tumbleweed rolled by, and a dust devil swirled and danced. The sun was starting to set, and it stained the world orange and red.

  Dora sighed. Was this really the life she wanted? The scenery she wished to continue looking at? She owed her life to Scarrot and the Yellowmoon Menagerie, and she would save them all, but after that?

  But then she thought of the people in Creidor and the Cracked Land who depended on her. How their lives, already harsh, would become incrementally more difficult without her to tend to their wounds. Could she abandon these souls, many of whom were innocent of the crimes associated with this dead realm?

  Indecision curdled in her gut, and she grimaced. She continued looking out over the horizon, lost in her thoughts.

  “Thinking about home?”