Okay, so I fibbed. Here, have a taste of what has my fingers doing their keyboard dance at this time, and yes, there is more done, more to come, and other projects being worked on. Including one I will probably have to create a whole new pen name/identity if I don't just delete the thing.
So, enjoy this bit of that tale "Crossing of the Shadow" from the tales of Billenius.
Wall Duty, one of the most dangerous assignments in Radixium, was decreed as my penance for stalking the halls sleep-fighting. A filthy, nasty job by day, worse in the hours of twilight and darkness, those being the ones added to the duty-roster with my name attached.
Carnifex still lay just two sunsets behind us, so twelve days lay ahead, during which my doni said the troubles would evolve. My gut, though, warned me it might not be as crisp and clean as the Parcae made it out when weaving those dreams for me.
Bentarius refused to press me, while the Dux grilled me each morn after wall duty, trying to find out more of the dreams plaguing me, which worsened over the days on the wall. Three more times, I awoke with Specula in my hand, stalking places in search of foes from those dreams. Not a good thing, on that left several more of the Custos very worried about their own safety.
Abstinax nights are calm in the elven ward of Radixium, most holding, if loosely, to the less secular ways here, but the other wards are not the same, and with the rings and darkening orb of Athalan growing, the areas just outside the high main walls are dangerous. Uncle's orders had the gates, even the ones along the Radix, closed before twilight ended each day. Which made the wall duty nastier, as few of those still moving after darkness in this place gave thought to legal behavior. We spent the nights dealing with those scaling the walls, between the towers and patrols, those using the few still private buildings along the wall that rose above it to operate clandestine cranes and pulley lines to move their illicit cargoes of materials and beings into and out of the city. Not to mention the forays of beasts making it past, over, or under the palisade line three milles out from town.
In other words, only the quiet area over by the Campii Catavera held any peace. The rest of the walls were nearly a war zone. Which made it my area to work. Filthy with paperwork after the shift to record things, filthy in blood of those beasts seeking prey on and below the walls, and filthy from the drity fools who tried various ways to circumvent the protections that closing the gates held.
The gates could still open, if needed. The Dux is not that foolish, and knew many travelrs would be caught without, in the unsafe areas, but only the man gates, ulnless a caravan arrived late. And only on his approval for the latter, as that required opening the wagon gates. Too large an opening to protect without some support from the barracks.
This was my third night on the wall, and now the dreams came when I was awake, and on duty. Drinius and Antonius took turns walking the rounds with me, in hopes of preventing more incidents, and the spreading of rumors of an elf being bent on murder still standing the walls. With the way the approach of the Deum Umbra progressed the last few hebdoma, that was not unbelievable, as most of those on wall duty proved jumpy and prone to pulling their blades first, and talking over the corpse left later.
Near the mid-watch hour, over seven hours into the night, both of them stood with me watching the approach of a wagon we'd noted sitting earlier at sundown by the palisade.
"Billenius, this bodes ill. Only the desperate or damned move by night only." Antonius growled.
Drinius dropped his right hand over my left, already upon Specula's grip. "Talk to us, Billenius. Don't go rabid canis over it."
Something in that wagon tore through the few controls, not to mention the shielding provided by an amulet around my neck, meant to block my aura sight. Something that stirred in the black, purple, and green tones, ones that rarely meant good things alone, but together marked in my limited experience something of hell coming our way.
"Who ever it is, we watch them close, even if we keep them outside." I snarled. "That aura reminds me too much of that battle over across the Kordulg our first hitch."
Drinius tensed up, hand crushing mine nearly. "Perfidio. Succubi or Incubi?"
Antonius hissed, stepping away a moment, trusting his own doni, an ability I trusted, not due to his training on the islands, but how many times it saved us. "Damn. Viri, we need to be at that gate, and not let that in, if we can. I sense mayhem and death down in that thing."
The deep purple hues of that aura grew, not just with the closing of the distance. There was a pressing feeling in my gut of a hunger coming to the town. I held my peace, though. They knew enough, from their own guts, to make good calls on it. Besides, tonight was Antonius night to hold the command of the patrols.
Until something sicker began to bloom, and my guts roiling turned to nasuea. Bending over, vomit surged from me. Looking away, leaning so the stone walls gave me some protection from it all, I moaned. "Necromancy."
"Gods." Drinius whispered. "Just what the hells we need during the Deum Umbra."
"The gods have naught to do with such, only those of Athalan do." Antonius snapped, grasping my right arm. "Just hold your temper, both of you. Let me deal with the scum."
Something about that idea left me uneasy. "I think it might be better if it is me dealing with him, Tonio."
The use of his shorter nickname gave him pause. "What the hell did you see, Bill."
"Death. Hunger. Hatred, and a whole lot of chaos." I groaned, keeping the crennelations along the wall between me and that wagon as we moved, my innards still trying to follow my dinner out my mouth. Between heaves, flashes of murders, something really disgusting, and beings with glowing heads in the colors of those necromantic emanations hit my mind. My comrades dragged me along, cursing, knowing I was dealing with both my donum at once, and remembering that when both rose, nothing good was going to happen.
"This kind of mess always happens on the diei I get command." Antonius chuckled. "At least we are here, not his cousins, eh?"
"I'd take those cousins, right now, Tonio." Drinius grunted. "Even Ringelius. Trust me, we will need all the blades we can get, if Bill's reacting this bad to the auras and visions." His arm started around my neck, due to a stumble, finding the heavy, silver chain, and the sapphire pendant it supported. "Damnatio. Through a shielding stone's protection?"
Antonio dropped my arm, racing down the stairs to the gate, where the wagon halted. I felt the aura's pusle, even through the stones of the wall, five auras, by the differing vibrations in the air. Three without the wagon, two within. Despite my innards gymnastics, I attempted to grasp Antonius, having seen him falling to some spell or domination if he descended those stairs, only to find myself and Drinius sprawling onto the catwalk.
"Bill, take it easy." Drinius shifted himself free of me, trying to lift me up.
"Get him back up here. Drin, he will fall to it, be its slave." I moaned.
"He's tough, Bill." Drin swore more, knee smacking into my head, giving me some relief from the visions attacking my mind now.
"Not that tough." I moaned, shaking my skull around to clear the cobwebs, as the visions died away. Never a good thing, as that meant what I'd seen had come to its crucible, and burned into immutable truth or failed possibility.
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