The Duty Which Lies Nearest

Hildegarde sensed something moving in the darkness.

In the depths of the ruined castle, the only light came from the orange flame of her torch, its dim glow too weak to fully penetrate the dark. She closed her eyes and heard more clearly the rush of air in the distance, echoing through the dark halls. Whatever was lurking in the shadows of this shattered kingdom must truly be ferocious for her prince to send her on this mission.

Perhaps the same evil presence threatened her own homeland?

At the thought of Prince Gustav, Hildegarde instinctively touched the pendant around her neck. It was a token of honor from the prince for undertaking his dangerous request into the depths of uncertainty to reclaim a lost treasure.

The rush of air grew louder, closer.

Hildegarde drew her sword, tightened her grip.

The rush of air was now so close that Hildegarde felt it across her face. The force of the sudden motion snuffed out the weak flame of her torch. She dropped the extinguished torch, readied her sword with both hands. Then came a voice, dry and croaking and uttering unfamiliar words and — behind her!

She spun around in a practiced ballet of violence, whirling the sword above her head, bringing it down in a heavy two-handed smash at the head of her would-be attacker. The force of her swing would have been enough to knock a fully-armored warrior off-balance. The impact of the blade would have been enough to split bone with ease. But her hands were stayed mid-swing by the voice in the darkness. Its indecipherable words wrapped around her arms like chains and burrowed into her ears like nesting mites.

Frozen in place, Hildegarde struggled to adjust her vision to the darkness. Something in front of her seemed to shine. She squinted to make sense of the sight — a black, inky light that shone in the darkness.

Suddenly there was an explosion of light from her pendant, a shriek of pain, and a black hand recoiling into the darkness.

Her pendant continued to radiate a cool, blue light, and Hildegard’s eyes adjusted to the form before her. A skeletal figure in tattered black robes, its eyes two deep abysses that seemed to pull in light.

It took a measured effort of her will to break contact with the figure’s gaze. “Release me from your evil,” she snarled. “I come on a divine quest to seek the forgotten knowledge of this land and protect my home from the same fate.”

As she spoke, the cloud of the monster’s words in her head began to settle. Her arms began to relax. Had her pendant been a special gift from Prince Gustav to ward against this creature? He obviously entrusted her with this vital quest. She had proven her worth as captain of the royal guard, had spent her youth training to be the best and had succeeded with aplomb. Despite her own accolades as a warrior, it was even more comforting to think that Prince Gustav was concerned for her personal safety. It showed a care that one did not often receive in Hildegarde’s line of work.

On top of that, Prince Gustav had a reputation for being detached and cold, but Hildegarde had long suspected that was simply the burden of leadership. If she could get closer to him and demonstrate her loyalty, she might learn of his true self. This quest, this pendant — it all pointed to something deeper.

The figure’s groans shook Hildegarde from her thoughts of Prince Gustav. Again, the black hand reached out for her pendant, and again the light grew to a blinding flood with an audible sizzle as the hand attempted to grab hold.

“Your evils have no effect, creature.” Hildegarde squared her stance, free from the invisible restraints.

“My prince has bestowed me with a blessed relic to fight off your tainted magic.”

The same dry, croaking voice from before crept from the figure’s lipless mouth. Hildegarde readied her sword and thrust the blade toward the figure’s ashen throat to stop its spell — but this time, it was Hildegarde herself and not the enchanting spell that stayed her hand.

The figure’s words were human, familiar, and pleading. “Return my treasure to me.”

“I see that your magic fails you, lich. So you turn to deception? I have taken nothing from you.” Hildegarde lowered her sword. “I am not a thief come to steal your gold. I seek this kingdom’s sacred texts, said to prevent great destruction.” She looked around the ruined hall. “Leave me to my quest and I will leave you to your treasure.”

The lich’s eyes grew wide, the black glow grabbing Hildegarde’s attention. Before she was aware of the trap, the lich’s spell had her bound again — the resounding echo of its words paralyzing both body and mind.

The figure spoke with steady cadence, “Return…my…treasure…the…pendant…”

Hildegarde struggled to form her thoughts. “The pendant is charmed against your evils, foolish creature. You leave me no choice but to slay you to complete my quest.” Hildegarde’s arm slowly raised her sword, then stopped.

Something was wrong. The lich’s spell had completely taken hold.

“If you will not return the pendant, I will take it from your corpse.”

Hildegarde’s mind tumbled about, caught in the disorientation of the spell. Why was the pendant’s protection not working? What was different? It was still glowing the same faint blue as before. The creature was still reluctant to reach for it, though, after being scorched twice. The pendant still resisted the monster’s touch, but why not the spell? If she couldn’t figure it out, Hildegarde’s mindless shell would rot in the depths of this forsaken castle, bound by the dark spell.

The spell. It was the same spell from before. And the pendant was still working like it did before to fend off the monster’s touch. So what had changed? Hildegarde herself was the only other piece to the puzzle. What had she done before to break the spell? She had been focused on the pendant itself, focused her thoughts on the pendant and on — Prince Gustav. That must be the key to breaking the spell. The pendant only worked to its full extent if you thought of your heart’s desire, if you focused on your loved ones. Hildegarde drove out the creeping darkness with the strongest memories she could think of Prince Gustav.

She thought of her first meeting with the prince, when she was still a recruit at the military academy in the capital. Prince Gustav, back from his latest worldly travels, had visited for a surprise inspection of the new recruits, looking to fill positions for his personal royal guard. Hildegarde did not actually talk with the prince, but he had passed by a sparring match between her and one of the other top contenders, a young man named Roderick. Roderick had caught Hildegarde looking at the prince and punished her distraction by trapping her in a painful hold. She knew the hold well from her practice and had countered by grabbing Roderick’s leg and pulling him off-balance. Prince Gustav applauded her performance, smiling. Even then, even at a distance, he seemed to recognize her drive to succeed, to be the best, to prove her worth.

Focused on that memory of Prince Gustav, the cloud in Hildegarde’s mind again began to settle. She grinned. “Your magic is weak, monster. You shall not stop me.” She needed another memory. A more powerful memory.

Her mind flashed to a royal feast, just after she had been appointed as captain of the prince’s guard. It was Prince Gustav’s coronation, and nobility from many other kingdoms had come to the capital to celebrate the rise of the man who would one day become king. There were even several princesses who hoped to solidify alliances by offers of betrothal from the prince, though none were successful.

At the height of the celebration, Prince Gustav snuck away from the feast to his personal chambers to relax before returning to the busy scene. Hildegarde had followed and posted herself at his door to ensure the prince’s privacy. When he emerged a while later, the prince gave a rare smirk, telling Hildegarde it was customary at large events for the captain of his guard not to let him out of their sight. Even though she knew it had been a night of excessive celebration for the prince, she blushed at the comment. It never came up again between them in the years since, but she thought about that night and that smirk sometimes when she was lonesome or fatigued.

The memory brought an uncommon smile to Hildegarde’s face in the blue glow of the pendant. “Your cause is lost, fiend! I know the weakness of your spell. The love of my Prince Gustav has set me free from your evil.”

Her smile immediately transformed to a grimace. Her body was no more free than it had been when the spell first took hold. As she struggled to break free, the echoes of the lich’s spell again filled Hildegarde’s ears.

The lich turned to her in a display of surprise, its eyes swollen with dark tears. “Prince Gustav has sent you to mock me with his triumph? Has he not taken enough from me? Now he sends his dog to finish his cruelty. Then I will put you down as I would a dog.” The lich wiped dark, glowing tears from its ink-black eyes and howled an incantation that magnified its hold over Hildegarde.

Rather than merely being held in place, she started to feel her limbs pulled apart. The confusion that once scattered her thoughts was now a blinding pain.

“You poor, misguided fool,” whispered the lich. “Your love for Gustav will be your undoing.”

How had she failed? She had wriggled free from the spell once before just as she had countered Roderick’s hold in the sparring match. Why didn’t it work? She had felt the spell lose power when she focused on the prince that day at the academy. What was she missing?

The lich’s words — “Your love for Gustav will be your undoing.” Was it not her focus on Gustav that had broken the spell before? Then what could it have been? The pain of the spell was excruciating. She felt her left arm dislocate at the shoulder. The edges of her vision were going dark. She was going to pass out. And then she was going to die.

There was no one to rescue her. Gustav had sent her alone on this quest because she had proven her worth time and again, and she was going to let him down. Was this what true failure felt like? Being ripped apart and consumed with agony? She had worked so hard to succeed, to protect her home, to uphold her duty. There must be some way to overcome this, she just had to work it out.

Then, the fires in Hildegarde’s mind went out. Her arms collapsed to her sides and she crumpled to her knees.

With a deep, rasping sigh, the lich strode toward Hildegarde’s body to retrieve the pendant. As it leaned down to snatch the pendant, Hildegarde thrust her sword through the lich’s throat.

The lich seemed to smile at Hildegarde’s victory. Its eyes widened before collapsing into complete darkness. Its skeletal body fell toward the ground, disintegrating in the shadows. Something landed with a heavy, hollow thud where its body should have been. For a moment, Hildegarde considered if the lich had let her win. Could it have known she would focus on her devotion to duty instead of her love for the prince? It didn’t matter. She was ready to go home.

Her left arm hung limp at her side. She situated her arm against the cold stone floor and braced herself to force her arm back into socket. But something caught her attention.

Hildegarde looked down in the dim glow of the pendant to see a large, weathered book. The cover was decorated with the same design as the pendant around her neck. Her quest was fulfilled. Her duty done. This must be the sacred text that Prince Gustav had sent her to retrieve. Though its secrets had obviously failed to protect this ruined kingdom from the evil of that lich sorcerer, there might be some detail or clue that could protect her own homeland from a similar evil.

She grabbed the heavy book and tucked it under her right arm. As she tried to stand, she went to steady herself with her left hand and tumbled to the ground, tossing the book across the darkened room.

Hildegarde finally made it to her feet, searching the darkness for her trophy. She found it lying open to a page with an image of a young woman wearing the pendant. Looking closer, Hildegarde realized the book wasn’t a spellbook. It was a royal register, recording the history of the kingdom.

Years ago, a prince from a neighboring kingdom had tried to seduce the princess to steal the secrets of magic from the royal family. She had resisted his advances, knowing his intentions to be impure, and had broken off their engagement. The prince managed to steal the princess’s magical pendant and a single page from the royal spellbook, using it to curse the princess’s father, turning him into an undying magical creature, a lich, fated to destroy everything it loved — family, kingdom, and home.

Hildegarde took the book under her arm and headed for home, duty-bound to protect her own kingdom from the same evil that destroyed this beautiful land.