Reyna did her best to offer a smile, but Inara could see through it. Both her mother and father had suffered since Alijah walked off into the world four years ago, searching for his own path. Inara missed him every day, often wondering what adventures he might have found himself on.
In truth, she suspected he was either drunk, bedding a bar wench or hanging by his thumbs for cheating at a game of cards. Inara loved her brother dearly, but he had a habit of collecting bad habits…
7
Out of the Light
As Athis punctured the clouds, Inara was given her first look at the ruins of Karath. The desert floor provided a canvas of sand that stretched on for miles to the north, but to the south, it rose up into the imposing walls of The Undying Mountains.
Syla’s Pass, beyond the broken gates, cut the mountains in half, a valley that faded into the distant land. At the valley’s feet lay the remains of the enormous gates that once blocked any and all from journeying south, though its main purpose had been to stop the savage Darkakin from journeying north.
Inara had never had cause to see the broken gates up close, but her mother told of the ancient glyphs carved into every inch of them, supporting the gates with magic. Seeing them now, she couldn’t believe her mother had been atop them when Valanis brought them down with Paldora’s Star. What a sight that would have been…
Stay focused, wingless one. I do not like the look of these ruins.
Inara drew her vision back to Karath below, another example of Valanis’s power. The city had once been the gem of The Arid Lands and home to its emperor, before Tauren Salimson installed a council in Tregaran. Now, Karath’s high walls topped no more than six feet, the thick stone reduced to rubble under the weight of the dark elf’s magic. Every building and tower had been cracked open, their shapes forever lost. The palace in the east had been almost split in half and imploded in on itself.
Ilargo flew past them, angling towards the ruins, and Athis naturally fell in behind the green dragon. They soared above and circled the old city a couple of times before landing by the northern gate, or what remained of it.
Athis lifted his head and sniffed the air. Smells like death.
That’s all any will find should they pick a fight with you, Inara replied with a light pat on his neck.
Be careful in there, the dragon pressed. The sun has not yet found midday and the shadows are long.
Indeed, the sun had yet to reach its apex, but Inara was thankful for the heat one could only find in a desert. The snows of the north had the feel that they might never leave these days.
Gideon jumped down from Ilargo’s back with one hand steadying Mournblade on his hip. “We will investigate the ruins,” he said, meeting Inara’s eyes. “Ilargo and Athis will sweep Syla’s Pass and check for anything unusual.”
Inara could sense Athis’s reluctance to leave her. You worry too much.
I worry just enough.
Inara chuckled silently to herself before joining Gideon under the broken arch of the northern gate. Athis and Ilargo turned about and walked a few steps into the desert to find enough space to take off. Their magnificent wings lifted high and beat down, kicking plumes of sand into the air and masking their quick ascent.
When she had been in her late teens, and her bond with Athis was new, Inara had hated to see him ever fly away, often feeling as if a part of herself had abandoned her. Ten years later, however, their bond was as strong as could be, allowing them to communicate with each other regardless of the physical distance between them. The half-elf was tempted to retreat into their sanctuary, a realm that only existed between the two of them, where even time couldn’t bother them.
Then she caught the scent of it herself. The city did wreak of death and it focused her intensely. At times such as this, when separated from Athis, she recalled all the more keenly that if she died… so did he.
Gideon entered first with Mournblade still on his hip. Inara followed his lead and kept her own Vi’tari blade sheathed as she passed beyond the boundary wall. They made their way up what had once been a street, though it was now indistinguishable from anything else. Debris from the buildings and the forgotten belongings of its old inhabitants littered the ground.
“They left in a hurry,” she observed.
“I was on the other side of The Adean when this happened,” Gideon replied solemnly. “When your mother and father told of what happened here I couldn’t believe it.”
Inara had heard the story a handful of times and read about it a dozen times. “They say Valanis pulled Paldora’s Star from the sky.”
“Yes,” Gideon agreed, “but the star didn’t do this. Valanis saw to Karath’s end with his own hands. The people fled for their lives, led by Tauren thankfully.”
“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Inara commented as she inspected every corner and crevice of the ruins.
“What’s that?” Gideon asked.
“Searching the ruins of Karath for orcs,” she replied incredulously. “They’ve been gone for five thousand years. Why would they return now?”
“I still can’t believe they survived The Great War.” Gideon leaned through a hole in a wall and examined the inside.
“I’ve read some of the books left behind by Elandril and Valtyr,” Inara said as she half climbed a wall to investigate the rooftop. “They both fought against the orc in The Great War. They both said orcs were the greatest hunters they had ever come across.”
Gideon nodded along. “They also said orcs fear the light and possess no knowledge of magic.” He glanced back at her with a grin pulling at his cheek. “I’d say we have a few advantages.”
Inara agreed, looking at Mournblade on her master’s hip. The scimitar had belonged to Elandril, the first elven Dragorn. Five thousand years ago, that blade had slain the orc king and helped to push their kind into the darkest depths of The Undying Mountains.
It seemed its job wasn’t quite done…
“You don’t appear too worried about bumping into them,” Inara observed.
“There can’t be that many of them left,” Gideon replied. “The elves and dwarves slaughtered them together. I’m sure this is just a lucky few descendants who have discovered one of the ancient tunnels.”
“Ancient tunnels?”
Gideon stopped by a door and slowly pushed it open. “You need to keep reading, Galfrey. During The Great War, the orcs would move about Illian via a network of tunnels to avoid the light.”
“Perhaps when I’m as old as you I will have read them all,” Inara quipped.
Gideon blinked slowly. “I should have seen that one coming, I suppose.”
Inara stopped and turned to her left when her nose caught a stronger scent of death.
Gideon didn’t miss it. “I bow to your senses. Lead the way.”
The two Dragorn were forced to enter the hollowed out remains of someone’s home in order to navigate around the tower that lay across the street. Entering the dark, they ducked under fallen beams and crawled through narrow spaces until finally climbing up through a hole in the ceiling. On the first floor, they had a better view of the ruins ahead since the entire wall was missing.
“That’s the palace.” Inara pointed her chin at the largest pile of rubble in the city.
“Let’s keep heading in that direction,” Gideon suggested. “It looks to have caved in. Perhaps that is where we will find our hole.”
They jumped back down to street level and left the shadows behind. There wasn’t a single stretch of path that could be called flat anymore, decorated as the streets were with craters and piles of stone.
Inara’s head snapped to the right.
Something was knocked loose in the building and they both heard it. Gideon kept a calm demeanour about him, emanating confidence and control. It had always proven to be bolstering for the half-elf.
You are not Gideon Thorn, Athis reminded her from miles away.
Inara rolled her eyes in the knowledge that the d
ragon understood exactly how she felt at that moment. Heeding his words, however, Inara followed Gideon with one hand on her hilt.
The main door was jammed in place by something that had fallen on it from the inside. The Master Dragorn tried moving it with both hands but was careful not to make too much noise in the process. He turned back to her and placed a finger to his lips before pointing to the roof.
Inara wasted no time in putting her inheritance to good use. Using the adjacent wall, she made a light step and a powerful push off the stone, using strength and agility that even Gideon Thorn didn’t possess.
Her hands caught the lip of the flat roof and she deftly pulled herself up with the ease of a cat. There wasn’t much of a roof to speak of since the back half of the building had collapsed into the next street. Inara waited patiently by the edge, listening for any sign of life besides the two of them.
The sound of loose pebbles falling to the ground didn’t escape her ears and she pounced. The Dragorn flipped and twirled as she descended into the house with as much speed and little sound as possible. When her feet finally touched the ground, her Vi’tari blade was drawn and ready to react on her behalf.
There was nothing.
“Inara?” Gideon’s call came from the other side of the door, stunning Inara for a moment.
She wanted to answer but, instead, followed her nose into the shadows. With one hand, the Dragorn swept her dark ringlets behind her ear to keep her peripheral vision clear. The darkness felt as real as a wall. She couldn’t shake that feeling, the feeling all prey had when under the gaze of a predator. The half-elf turned this way and that, inspecting the shadows with what few cracks of light pierced the rooms.
A piece of wood creaked behind her. Again, there was nothing to see. A light rain of dust sprinkled down from above, filling the thin shaft of light with floating bits. For just a moment, she questioned whether it was one of the earthquakes that kept being reported.
It wasn’t a quake, she knew. There was something in the room with her.
“Inara?” Gideon called again.
Inara whispered a small spell into her hand and birthed an orb of pure light to release into the room.
Not two feet away stood an orc!
The Dragorn gasped and her Vi’tari blade shot up in her defence, but the orc roared under the light and dropped its serrated blade in favour of diving for the shadows. The orb of light made its task all the harder but the orc pushed its way through a triangular crack in the wall, quickly disappearing into the adjoining building.
Get out of there! Athis warned. We’re coming back!
The main door to the house blew in behind her in a wave of magic, shattering the awkward pillar that had blocked Gideon’s way. The Master Dragorn rushed in with Mournblade in hand, his form that of the Mag’dereth, the ancient fighting style known only to the Dragorn order.
“It went that way!” Inara dropped to the crack in the wall only to find more darkness beyond.
“Come on!” Gideon was already running back outside in pursuit.
Inara knew it would be folly to climb through the hole after the creature, but she decided running along the ruined streets was not to be her path. The half-elf dashed back up the cracked walls and found her way to the roof again.
Gideon was running parallel to the block, jumping and skipping over debris as he hunted the fleeing beast. The Master Dragorn shot out his hand and fired spell after spell into the buildings below Inara’s feet, every flash of light eviscerating the ruined contents.
Inara leaped from rooftop to rooftop, weaving left and right to avoid the jagged holes and serious cracks.
It didn’t take her long to overtake Gideon below and catch up with the orc, who she caught glimpses of as it ran from shadow to shadow. In fact, the only reason it had yet to evade them completely was that its path was slowed by the apparent need to stick to the darkness.
One of Gideon’s spells knocked out the last of one building’s fragile supporting walls. Half a row of what had perhaps been shops crumpled in on itself, spreading dust and sand in every direction. Inara adjusted her trajectory and hopped, skipped, and jumped back down to the street to meet her master. Together they ran side by side, all the while listening for the laboured grunts of the orc as it pushed on into the final building at the end of the row.
The two Dragorn skidded to a stop. There was nothing but the palace on their left and an empty street between it and the final building. The orc had nowhere to go.
Inara felt the brief tingle of magic on her skin before Gideon held his hand out to the end wall and pulled away, taking the central slab with it. The wall broke to pieces, adding more debris to the street and a cloud of dust and sand into the air.
With their Vi’tari blades in hand, the two Dragorn cautiously approached the jagged hole. Inara released a new orb of light, casting the shadows away.
The house was empty. They inspected the walls from top to bottom, checking every corner and looking under the rubble for any sign of the creature. It had vanished.
“Are you sure they can’t use magic?” Inara asked.
“Over here,” Gideon called, drawing the half-elf to a crack in the floor. It was just large enough to fit a person, if they breathed in, and it slanted to the left, towards the palace.
“We’re not going in there,” Inara said.
“And we would be wise not to,” Gideon replied. “Midday is approaching, our ally in this hunt. Let’s investigate the palace. I don’t believe this is the hole from which they crawled. Tauren said they were attacked by a pack of the brutes.”
The Dragorn left the house and made for the steps that rose up into the palace. The fortress, as it was, still towered over them in its ruined state. All signs of its grandeur and luxury had either been wiped away or faded over the last thirty years. Great chandeliers littered the halls and grand mirrors lay strewn and shattered. The enormous crack that divided the palace in two provided a solid line of light from east to west, allowing them to walk through.
Inara’s senses caught up with her again and she noted the foul odour coming from the passage to the south. “I think we’re going to have to brave the dark.”
We’re almost there, Athis told her.
Inara knew what the dragon was really saying, but they didn’t have time to wait for their arrival. The orc had already escaped their grasp once and they weren’t about to let it escape a second time.
“Keep your wits about you,” Gideon cautioned. “We don’t know enough about them yet.”
Inara led the way into the darkened corridors with her Vi’tari blade held out in front of her. The magic of the blade would have it react to any attack before her keen senses could even register one. The half-elf held out her free hand and readied another orb of light to take shape from her fingertips.
“Don’t,” Gideon said with a hand on her wrist. “We need to draw them out.”
Having just seen an orc face to face, fangs and all, Inara didn’t entirely agree with hunting them in the dark. But she couldn’t argue with her master’s wisdom, something he shared with Ilargo.
Shattered glass and pieces of broken mirrors crunched under their feet as they progressed through the old halls. Shafts of light pierced the gloom here and there, offering them some sight as well as informing them of the sun’s position above. In some places they were forced to pass through holes in the walls as the doorways were blocked by fallen pillars and cracked beams.
“Is it possible this is the last one?” Inara whispered. “Perhaps Tauren and his men killed the others.”
Gideon paused, looking back at her over his shoulder. “There’s an orc walking the surface of Illian… at this point, I’d say anything is possible.”
They continued their search of the ground floor, creeping through as many rooms as they could where debris didn’t need moving. Inara caught the scent again after passing through what looked to have been an outside garden in the south of the palace. Death and rot filled her nose,
leading her to a large chamber of marble beyond the garden. There were no windows or sunroofs, only a single crack in the top corner where a ray of sunlight did its best to illuminate the room.
“It’s a bathhouse,” Inara commented upon seeing the sunken, empty rectangle surrounded by pillars.
“Not anymore,” Gideon replied, his eyes leading Inara to the massive hole in the centre of the dusty bath.
Its edges were jagged and rough, but the angle was that of a slope, allowing any upright creature to walk in and out. The single shaft of light wasn’t enough, however, to give them an idea of its depth.
Gideon tilted his head to the side and held his hand out, stopping her from going any farther.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I don’t think we were the ones doing the hunting…”
Inara had no time to respond before the shadows came alive. The orcs roared, their bellows resounding off the marble walls with deafening effect.
Her scimitar reacted, lifting her hand and parrying two of their blades while her left leg shot out and kicked a third orc over the edge and into the bath.
Gideon parried one of his own, raised his free hand, and released a fireball into another. The orc was launched back with enough force to crack the marble wall. The light from the fire temporarily blinded the other beasts and gave both Dragorn a quick count of their enemies.
Inara’s heart skipped a beat when she realised there were too many to count.
The first of the orcs to recover from the burst of light came at the Master Dragorn with a spear. Mournblade twisted Gideon’s body into an unorthodox position, allowing him to evade the pointed tip, then parry the sword of another orc before finally spinning back around to bury his scimitar into the spear-wielder’s chest.
Inara could have marvelled at her master’s skill for some time, but the orcs renewed their attack. They swarmed, coming at her from all sides. The Dragorn moved left and right, batting their attacks away with her scimitar between using every limb to kick, elbow, and punch her enemy.
The Fall of Neverdark Page 8