The Fight Against the Dark

by Wacht, Peter

  Balancing the future on their blades.

  Light dances with dark

  Green fire burns in the night

  Hopes and dreams follow the wind

  To fall in black or white.

  “Those are the passages that you think apply to Thomas?” asked Gregory.

  “Yes, I do. As do the Sylvana. Let me explain a little more. Begin with the first line: When a child of life and death. When Thomas was born, he had green eyes, which throughout the Kingdoms is recognized as a symbol for life. And any birth obviously symbolizes life. On a sadder note, his mother, our daughter, Marya, died during his birth.”

  “That could apply to many people,” said Rendael, enjoying the intellectual exercise, more than willing to challenge the Sylvan Warrior’s premise. Rynlin was not the least bit offended. He always took pleasure in an opportunity to engage his pedantic nature.

  “Yes, it could,” said Rynlin. “But I don't think that it does. Listen to the next line: Stands on high. It's a very vague reference. However, we believe it speaks to two critical parts of Thomas’ life. When he became Lord of the Highlands, it’s traditionally been known as standing on high. And, when you join the Sylvana, you stand on high as well. In fact, he stood on the tallest peak in all the Kingdoms. I think the double reference to the Highlands and the Sylvana serves as added confirmation.”

  “What about the rest of the prophecy?” asked Rendael, his eyes bright, treating the discussion as a riddle to be solved.

  “We just won't know for sure until each event takes place. But I believe the last six lines refer to his battle with the Shadow Lord.”

  “Wait a second,” said Kaylie Carlomin, rising from her seat, dagger gripped tightly in her hand. “You think that Thomas has to fight the Shadow Lord?”

  “We don’t think,” replied Rynlin with some sadness escaping from his voice. “We know.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  The Princess of Fal Carrach glanced at Thomas in fear. No one had ever defeated the Shadow Lord in combat.

  “Allow me to explain,” said Rynlin. He got up from his seat and began pacing around the fire even though there was little room to maneuver within the small tent. He always thought better on his feet. “Let me repeat the lines of the prophecy that I think apply, and I'll give you my reasoning. Admittedly, the prophecies are all very obscure, and we really won't know for sure if Thomas is in fact the Defender of the Light until he faces off against the Shadow Lord. But, if he is fated to meet the Shadow Lord in combat, then it will happen. There will be no way that he can avoid it.”

  “The Defender of the Light?” asked Kaylie, never having heard the term before.

  “Yes,” replied Rya. “The one slated to contest the Lord of the Shadow.”

  “Also, keep in mind that the prophecies have never been wrong, and though there are several different ones that vary in certain places, they are never very far off when it comes to the important events,” said Rynlin, clearly enjoying the chance to offer some instruction. “For example, all the prophecies were correct as to when the Shadow Lord first would appear in the world, and that we would defeat him at certain points in time. Now, this is the intriguing point.”

  Rynlin strode quickly around the fire, unable to contain the excitement that he felt when teaching.

  “Before, the result of what would happen was always predetermined, meaning that the Great War was fated to occur, and it was known that the Shadow Lord’s attempt to conquer the Kingdoms would fail. We would successfully push the Shadow Lord and his Dark Horde back into the Charnel Mountains. Of course, we did not know this until the Great War ended and we went back to examine the prophecies. Then we deciphered what had largely been unintelligible to us before.

  “At that time we looked ahead and saw that a battle between the Defender of the Light and the Lord of the Shadow would take place sometime in the near future. Of course, when you're dealing with the prophecies the near future could be a hundred years, two hundred years or more from the present. Anyway, placing all that to the side, that's as far as the Seers of Alfeos went in their forecasts — to the actual battle between the Defender of the Light and the Lord of the Shadow. They saw nothing beyond that contest. The prophecies simply come to a close.”

  “What do you mean? How could they just stop seeing the future?” asked Kaylie.

  “We don’t know how it happened. We just know that they did. All we can surmise is that the various paths that lead to that point in time all come together, waiting for the result of that event to allow those paths to continue once more. The prophecies conclude during the battle. The seers foretold nothing more beyond that point. They just stopped, and no one can explain why. Listen to the last six lines:

  Swords of fire echo in the burned rock

  Balancing the future on their blades.

  Light dances with dark

  Green fire burns in the night

  Hopes and dreams follow the wind

  To fall in black or white.

  “Swords of fire echo in the burned rock. That's a clear reference to this final battle between light and dark, a point that is no longer debated by those who have studied the prophecies, some for hundreds of years longer than I. The battle will take place, and most likely somewhere in Shadow's Reach, or rather Blackstone, as it's known today. Of that, we’re fairly certain.”

  “So the Defender of the Light has to fight the Lord of the Shadow in his domain,” said Gregory.

  “Exactly. Certainly not a promising beginning for the contest. Another reference, Balancing the future on their blades, gives us a hint as to what we can expect to follow. The prophecies end with those six lines. Why? Because this battle will determine what will happen next. Whatever the future is to be, whatever is to become of the Kingdoms, it will be because of this contest. That's what the last line confirms: To fall in black or white. In the past, throughout the millennia since the Shadow Lord came to be, the victor of the struggles between good and evil was always foretold. We have always been able to hold back the Shadow Lord and stop his evil from descending upon the Kingdoms. But not this time. The result will not be known until the duel is fought. There is nothing telling us what to expect or how the contest between the Defender of the Light and the Lord of the Shadow will play out.”

  “So this battle will determine the future?” asked Sarelle.

  “Yes, it will.”

  “Can the Defender of the Light win?” asked Rendael, inquiring about what the other monarchs feared to ask, all knowing the stories regarding the Shadow Lord and his deadly skills.

  “Anything is possible,” answered Rya, though it took a great deal of effort to offer her reply in a confident tone.

  “And if the Defender of the Light loses?” Kaylie gripped her hands tightly together, having sheathed her dagger. She dreaded the answer that she knew was coming.

  “Then the Kingdoms have no future at all. The Shadow Lord and his Dark Horde will reign supreme, and humanity will face the possibility of servitude or extinction.”

  “And you think Thomas is the Defender of the Light? Just because a few lines seem to apply to him?”

  “Yes, we do.” Rya nodded her agreement. Her tone was gentle, as she understood why Kaylie struggled with their conclusions. “He is a child of life and death. He has stood on high twice. Another line clearly applies as well — Green fire burns in the night. You know, as well as I, what his eyes look like when he’s angry, and especially during the night.”

  “I think green fire is a very appropriate description,” said Sarelle.

  “When will Thomas know if he’s the Defender of the Light?” asked Gregory, his practical mind having already turned toward what needed to be done to protect against the Shadow Lord and the Dark Horde.

  “I know,” answered Thomas quietly, finally speaking up. “I have known for some time. I am the Defender of the Light.”

  “But Thomas, how could you be certain that …”

  “Kaylie, I know,”
said Thomas in a strong but soft voice, giving her a small smile in an attempt to make her feel better, as he didn’t want the fear and worry in her eyes to spread. “I can feel the pull much like I did before joining the Sylvana. It gets stronger every day. I can feel the Shadow Lord and he can feel me. He’s waiting for me. It’s just a matter of time. I am the Defender of the Light, and I must fight him in Blackstone.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Decisions

  Corelia Tessaril stood on the balcony to her suite of rooms located in one of the taller towers of the Eamhain Mhacha fortress. Her long, blond hair blew wildly in response to the cold gusts that swept off the waters of the Heartland Lake. Normally, she enjoyed the view, especially in the early morning when the first rays of light glittered off the deep blue surface and she could see for leagues in all directions. But not today. Today, although she gazed at the rough water stirred up by the strong wind, she didn’t see anything at all, and she barely felt the touch of the swirling air, her mind drifting far, far away.

  She held a necklace in her right hand, the black onyx glittering like glass as the pieces of stone caught the sunlight. But she didn’t notice that either as the individual pieces of the torque played through her fingers. Her thoughts were elsewhere this morning. All because of a seemingly innocuous conversation the night before with General Brennios, who commanded the Armaghian Home Guard. He hadn’t revealed much in the way of detail, but then he never did, not even to her, and when it came to information, she was the ultimate safecracker. Brennios was a man devoted to his duty, his sharp features and ramrod posture suggesting that he had been born in the military. Further, he saw his duty as protecting his homeland, not necessarily serving the High King, as those two goals might not always be aligned. That approach opposed that of most every other official in the Kingdom, all of whom seemed to go out of their way to ensure that every one of her father’s wishes was met regardless of how ludicrous or costly.

  How General Brennios had survived so long without licking her father’s boots, she could only begin to guess. But for that ability alone, she respected him. And she had learned in the court of Armagh that what was left unsaid was just as important as what was said.

  She had been standing in the grand hall having just completed a brief audience with several merchants when a soldier had run in, immediately reporting to General Brennios in spite of the presence of so many others in the chamber. The soldier’s report was concise, to the point.

  “The barges have not returned to Dunmoor,” the young soldier had said. “They’re well overdue.”

  Brennios had stared at the messenger, not speaking for several long seconds. But Corelia knew what the soldier was talking about, the strategy that her father had employed to conquer the Highlands that relied on ferrying troops and supplies across the Inland Sea to the southern peaks of that mountainous Kingdom. Finally, Brennios replied with a simple nod of the head.

  “Assemble the captains,” he had ordered.

  Not much to go on, Corelia had realized. But for her, it was more than enough. There was trouble in the Highlands, perhaps even disaster for Armagh. Her father’s plans were not working as he had imagined, which really wasn’t surprising considering her opponent. There was something about the young Highland Lord that intrigued her. He was more than competent, both as a fighter and a leader. But there was something else there. An edge. A power. A sense of control over himself and the world around him that sent her heart racing. Perhaps that’s what it was that had attracted her to him.

  She pulled her thoughts away from Thomas Kestrel reluctantly, instead returning to the look that she had seen on General Brennios’ face. Worry. He seemed to have little faith in her father’s military abilities, and she had to admit that there was some justification for that. Even with General Chengiz commanding the Armaghian army, she didn’t doubt that her father would force his way into the general’s decision making, perhaps creating problems that didn’t need to be there. Problems that could lead to … defeat.

  Abruptly she looked down at the necklace in her hand, realizing that she had been rubbing the black stones for the better part of an hour. Finally, she felt the cold air flowing across the balcony and through the open doors into her suite. Shivering, she realized that she had no choice. She needed to go. All because General Brennios had uttered three simple words: “Assemble the captains.”

  Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps all went well in the Highlands. But she had learned to trust her instincts as she had maneuvered successfully through the politics of Armagh and competed with her brother Ragin for her father’s favor. And her instincts were telling her that it was time to leave Eamhain Mhacha and make use of the tool that Malachias had gifted her. A tool that could give her everything that she wanted, but at what cost?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Decision Made

  Thomas’ pronouncement of his prophesied duel with the Shadow Lord had set a somber tone for the remainder of the day’s discussions. But it had also suffused those monarchs who had come together to defeat the Armaghian army in the Highlands with an added urgency.

  Sarelle, Queen of Benewyn, sat regally on one of the camp chairs arrayed in the tent. Always seeking to take advantage of an opportunity, she still wore her form-fitting armor despite the fact that the Battle of the Highlands had ended days before, her red hair shining as it caught the light from the fire they all sat around. Gregory, King of Fal Carrach, sat across the blaze from her. He couldn’t take his eyes from her, something that she had sought and relished.

  “I have sent the messages we discussed to the other rulers of the Kingdoms. But I have little confidence that they will respond quickly or as we hope.”

  Benewyn was known for its mercantile exchanges and traders, which made Sarelle an experienced and excellent negotiator. Though through her missives she revealed the High King’s treachery and warned of the coming of the Shadow Lord, she knew that she could accomplish much more meeting face to face rather than sending correspondence. But she didn’t have time for such travels. Not with the imminent threat expected to come from the north.

  “It’s a worthwhile attempt,” said Gregory. “But I agree with Sarelle. We will receive little help from the other Kingdoms, whether because of disinterest, internal politics, or the fact that some of these other Kingdoms still might be allied with Rodric despite sharing news of his defeat.”

  “All the more reason to eliminate Rodric once and for all,” said Rendael, King of Kenmare.

  The rulers finally understood the level of the High King’s treachery as the servants of the Shadow Lord massed in the Charnel Mountains. They needed to remove the High King as a threat so that he couldn’t attack behind their lines while they engaged the Dark Horde at the Breaker.

  “Agreed,” said Chuma, chief of the Desert Clans. Short in stature, but with a large personality, he had endeared himself quickly to the other sovereigns, not only because of the competence and aggressiveness of his cavalry, but also as a result of his willingness to leave his troop of desert soldiers at the western edge of the Highlands where it bordered on the Clanwar Desert. Doing so gave them several hundred experienced fighters ready to assist the Marchers if needed while the other Kingdoms prepared their armies and then marched for the Breaker. “We can’t leave a snake in the sand behind us if we’re to fight on the Northern Steppes. We must cut off its head.”

  “I might be able to help with that.”

  All eyes turned to Thomas, who sat there calmly sharpening his dagger, his mind obviously already focused on the next task at hand.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Welcomed Gift

  “Are you certain about this, Thomas?”

  Rya had just stepped back after hugging her grandson, Rynlin standing beside her. All around them several hundred Marchers prepared their mounts for the journey to come.

  Assuming that Eamhain Mhacha was the only place that Rodric would feel safe, at the conclusion of their meeting Sarelle, Gregory, Rendael and Chuma ha
d endorsed Thomas’ plan. He would lead a select group of fighters to Armagh, sneaking into the capital and eliminating the High King as a threat. In the meantime, they would return to their Kingdoms to marshal the remainder of their forces and bring them north, relying on the Desert Clan fighters Chuma would leave near the Breaker to provide any assistance to the Marchers if the intensity of the dark creature incursions increased.

  In light of Thomas’ absence, the Highland chiefs – Renn, Seneca and Nestor — would focus on defending the northern Highlands, seeking to prevent the dark servants of the Shadow Lord from using that rugged land as a staging ground for their expected attack on the Kingdoms. Rya would continue to help in the Highlands as well, working with the other Sylvan Warriors already operating in the mountainous Kingdom and the Charnel Mountains to locate the Ogren raiding parties and then harass the dark creatures as they sought to cross the Northern Steppes. Not a perfect strategy, they all knew, and certainly not one to rely on over the long term. But it would have to do for now. If it could buy them the few months they needed to prepare, then the approach would have served its purpose.

  “It’s necessary,” Thomas replied. “A new High King is needed if we are to gather any support from those Kingdoms that delay in responding to Sarelle’s call for troops at the Breaker, and that means Rodric must go. Besides, we need to be able to defend the Kingdoms without worrying that he’s lurking in the shadows preparing to stab us in the back. I have no doubt that he’d take great pleasure in that.”

  “Just be careful,” said Rya. “After that show you put on with that dark creature made of black mist, the Shadow Lord knows you all the better now. He knows your strength. More important, he will seek out your weaknesses. He will come after you with everything that he has. He’s not going to want to face you in Blackstone if he can eliminate you as a threat before that.”

  “I understand, Rya. We’ll move quickly and keep our eyes open. Believe me, I know what I’m up against. Besides, Rynlin will be with me, so I’ll have nothing to fear.” The touch of sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed by his grandfather.