The Fall of Neverdark

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  “Both are very real possibilities,” Galanör said. “There is, however, only one way to find out.”

  Vighon groaned but Alijah agreed. “To Paldora’s Fall then,” he said, feeling that sense of adventure rising in him again.

  “Not so fast,” Galanör warned. “The Moonlit Plains and the desert of The Arid Lands lies between us and Syla’s Gate. From there, we will have to journey through barren valleys to Paldora’s Fall. It will not be an easy road, nor a swift one.”

  “We have horses,” Vighon said.

  “And you’ll need them,” Galanör replied, retrieving a black orb from a pouch on his belt. “Equip yourselves with whatever you think you’ll need, though I suggest something to provide shelter under a desert sun. Winter is different in the south.”

  “Is that a diviner?” Alijah asked, trying to better see the sphere in the elf’s hand. “Who are you contacting?”

  Galanör threw the diviner into the air and caught it easily. “Someone who can lessen our burden…”

  11

  Far From Home

  The Undying Mountains were spread out before Inara Galfrey, a glorious horizon of rocky points that knew no end. To the west, where the mountains dared to reach for the heavens, their tops were capped with brilliant white snow. The half-elf was in a part of the world now that none could claim to know.

  She loved it!

  Or at least she would have. The orcs plagued her mind, their deadly encounter playing over and over. Inara tried to focus on the land and the valleys below, reminding herself that she was here for a reason.

  It is okay to be shaken, Athis said into her mind.

  I’m not shaken, she protested half-heartedly. It’s just… we’ve never run from anything before. We’ve never been…

  Hunted before, Athis finished for her.

  There were so many of them, Inara continued.

  There are fewer now, the dragon replied, thanks to your blade and my fire.

  She couldn’t argue with that. There were many, but they fell as easily as any man.

  Every creature bleeds, wingless one.

  Indeed they did, she thought. For ten years she had been beside Athis and for five of those years she had been granted the title of Dragorn. In that time, Inara knew she had faced dangers before, taken lives even, but that underlying confidence, that feeling of invincibility, came from having Athis as her companion.

  Without him, she was vulnerable, and that made him vulnerable. She had foolishly allowed a band of the deadliest creatures to ever walk the earth to lure her into a trap. Had Gideon not been present, both she and Athis would likely be dead. The thought of Athis lying dead in the desert sent a shiver up her spine.

  You forget, Athis said, Gideon was beside you when the trap was sprung. The Master Dragorn was lured into that place just as you were. And remember, no one is born a warrior, Inara. That path is forged through time and blood. If the orcs are returning to the world, I have no doubt that you will be forced down that path. The dragon let out a long sigh. I would do all that I can to stall that, however, and keep you just as you are…

  Inara hugged the dragon a little tighter, enjoying the moment and the heat from his scales. She truly didn’t know how to live without Athis and often found it hard to remember what life was like without him. Of course, back then she had her brother for company, and mischief more often than not.

  They flew together in the dying sun, having searched the northern region the previous day. The long shadows cast by the mountains made it all the harder for Inara to see anything, especially dark holes suitable for orcs. Only when the sun was at its highest did Athis take them closer to the valley floor. Still, even in the black of night, the dragon’s eyes could see everything.

  We should find somewhere to rest, Athis announced as the last sliver of the sun dropped beneath the horizon. Twilight won’t last much longer and you will be blind.

  I trust you to keep searching. Just don’t put us down anywhere that I might fall off the side of a cliff…

  Master Thorn instructed us to be safe and so we shall. We will rest now and begin our search again at first light. Do you have enough food?

  Inara knew she couldn’t convince the dragon to keep searching if her safety was in the balance. The half-elf pulled on the strap tied over her shoulder and brought the narrow pack onto her chest. With only a hand inside, she could feel what was left of her dwindling supplies.

  I have enough food and water for tonight, but tomorrow we will need to hunt and find clean water.

  Athis let out a sharp grunt, typical of a dragon’s laugh. Preferably enough water for you to bathe in as well!

  I thought dragons were supposed to be charming!

  What we are is sensitive to smell, wingless one.

  They shared a laugh as Athis banked to the west, closing the gap between them and a flat plateau below. It was well above the valley floor and far from the reach of any predators that hunted under the moonlight.

  After her feet touched the sandy rock, a low growl rumbled from within Athis’s stomach and the dragon turned to regard her with an embarrassed look that only Inara could recognise.

  It’s been too long since you have eaten, she observed. Go and hunt something for yourself.

  Athis looked from Inara to the wide world beyond the plateau and grunted with stubbornness. I will stay with you, he said.

  We could be searching The Undying Mountains for days, Inara argued. I need you sharp in case I miss anything. Athis peered over the side of the cliff and sniffed the air. I’m clearly not going anywhere. Go. Hunt.

  Unable to ignore his stomach for much longer, Athis relented. I will be back soon.

  The dragon dropped off the edge and soared into the valley before flapping his magnificent wings and disappearing into the night.

  Inara sat beside the small fire she had started and did her best to enjoy the strip of tough meat from her supplies. The water had been warm, something she hated, until the desert grew bitterly cold - then she wished the water had stayed warm.

  Thinking back to her years under Gideon’s tutelage, she remembered a good way to stay warm on a night such as this.

  Getting to her feet, the half-elf walked a circle around the fire and used her Vi’tari blade to trace the ancient glyphs into the sand. Once complete, she whispered the spell Gideon had taught her and watched as the small fire briefly flared into the dark before settling down again.

  It was much cosier inside the circle now since the glyphs prevented the heat from escaping its perimeter.

  Inara rested back with her head on her supply pack. An ocean of stars looked down on her, each an inspiring orb of light that ignited the adventurous fire inside her belly. This was the kind of work she had envisioned as a sixteen-year-old girl, joining the ranks of Dragorn on The Lifeless Isles - just her and Athis in the wilds of the world, rooting out evil and exploring the land.

  Inara had no clue as to how long her eyes had been closed or how much sleep she had found before her keen ears heard the lightest of steps. Remaining very still, the Dragorn shifted her eyes one way then the next, searching the dark beyond the firelight for any threat. She knew Athis was yet to return since his bulk was impossible to miss.

  The half-elf took a breath and snapped up, using every muscle to flip onto her feet. In a blur of motion, her Vi’tari blade was in hand and raised into form one of the Mag’dereth. The light of the fire could only go so far, but she knew there was someone or something up here with her.

  I’m coming back! Athis said urgently inside her mind.

  A voice from behind startled her and she spun on the ball of her foot to confront the owner, paying little attention to the words. Her scimitar came to rest across the dark neck of a dishevelled-looking man, who was wise enough to hold his tongue and refrain from taking another step.

  “No one calls this place home, stranger,” Inara said in a hushed tone. “Who are you and why are you creeping up on me?”

  The stra
nger gulped and his throat hit the steel of her blade. “Forgive my creeping, Miss. I have spent so long fighting those that hide in the shadows I fear I have become rather good at it myself.” The stranger looked down at the scimitar held against his throat. “Or perhaps not as good as I thought…”

  “You were able to climb up here without me hearing,” Inara replied, happy to keep her weapon pressed to his flesh, “and with a staff no less. I’d say you were damn good at creeping. Now, feel free to answer any of my questions, good sir.”

  “My apologies, Miss. I imagine my sudden appearance must have a threatening overtone to it, but I assure you, I only made the climb because I saw your firelight. That, and I’m very hungry.” The stranger glanced at himself. “This body has more muscles than the ones I am accustomed to. I’m afraid it requires more sustenance.”

  From his choice of words, Inara knew the stranger to be educated, though in what or by whom she couldn’t say. He definitely wasn’t an orc, so that worked in his favour.

  It was a risk to remove her blade from his neck, but it was a calculated risk based upon her own skill. Inara stepped back, sure to keep her scimitar raised and pointed at the stranger.

  “Do I know you,” he asked, his brown eyes taking in every feature on her face.

  “Do not think I will offer my name before I learn of yours. And what do you mean by this body? You will speak sense or be gone,” she added with a flourish of her blade.

  The stranger held up his hands to show that he meant no harm, though Inara was far more concerned by the staff that remained standing upright all by itself.

  “My name is Hadavad, and I mean you no ill will, Miss.”

  That name tugged on Inara’s memories, distracting her for a moment. Athis, who never forgot anything, found the memory first and brought it to the surface.

  “Hadavad the mage?” she asked.

  The man bowed his head. “The one and only,” he said with an inviting smile.

  The Dragorn scrutinised every inch of the mage’s appearance trying to match up what she knew of the mage who had fought beside her parents in The War for the Realm. From the tales she had heard growing up, Hadavad was a young woman!

  Athis sharpened the memory in her mind and she remembered the details surrounding the mysterious mage. Those particular details had her note the chain around his neck, though she was unable to see the fabled ruby that hung from it.

  “What happened to your other body? The female one, from the war?”

  Hadavad looked down at his body and sighed before meeting her eyes again. “The body of Atharia Danell served me well for many years after the war. But while the world enjoyed its peacetime, I returned to the war that has continued in the background of every war. Atharia’s body was mortally wounded during a fight in The Narrows. I won, but at a cost. My next apprentice served me for almost six years, but I caught the Red Sorrow outside of Snowfell. The disease would have claimed my life had…” The mage gestured to his current body. “Had Daro not offered his body in service of the cause.”

  Daro’s body must have been close to fifty years with a bushy black beard and dreadlocks down to his chest. Strands of grey had begun to make themselves known, but it did nothing to diminish his capable look. Draped in robes to his knees and a heavily laden belt, it was impossible to speak of a muscular body, but the skin she could see was covered in cuts and bruises, suggesting he had recently held his own in a fight.

  “Now, Miss, I have given you my name and much more, yet I know nothing of you, besides the fact that you’re smart enough to camp high in The Undying Mountains and brave enough to light a fire.”

  “I am not a miss. My name is Inara and I’m a Dragorn,” she said with pride.

  Hadavad tilted his head and his dark features softened. “Ah. I see it now. You are indeed the perfect blend of your mother and father, Inara Galfrey.” Voicing her family name surprised Inara, but the mage continued, “You were much smaller the last time I saw you. I was thrilled to hear of your bond with… erm, forgive me, I’ve forgotten the name of your dragon.”

  As always, Athis’s timing was perfect. The red dragon, with a chest of slate, fell upon them both, shaking the rock beneath their feet. He huffed a breath and hung his head directly over the mage, a chandelier of razor-sharp teeth.

  “His name is Athis the ironheart,” Inara replied with the hint of a smile on her face.

  Hadavad gulped again as he took a step back. His dreadlocks blew out behind him under the dragon’s breath and he became very still.

  I have seen Hadavad through Ilargo’s mind. This man does not match his memories.

  He just explained that, Inara said, aware that the dragon had heard everything through her.

  That doesn’t mean this is the Hadavad… Athis replied wisely.

  Inara addressed the mage again. “He doesn’t trust you. He says you could be lying and, to be honest, he has a point.”

  Hadavad’s eyes shifted nervously from dragon to Dragorn. “I have this,” he said, lifting the large ruby gem from within his robes.

  Athis lowered his head and sniffed the gem. It is certainly magical in nature, but it proves nothing.

  “How do we know you didn’t kill the real Hadavad and steal the gem?” Inara countered.

  Hadavad raised an eyebrow, considering his response. “I could probably recite some of your father’s speech the day he wed your mother, but you weren’t there for that…” The mage ran his hand through his scraggly beard, keeping one eye on Athis. “Have you seen your mother’s wedding dress?” he asked hopefully.

  “I have,” Inara answered. Her mother, Reyna, had made a point of not needing to keep and pass it on now that Inara was a Dragorn, fated never to marry. That was a thread the half-elf didn’t particularly fancy pulling on right now.

  “It was blue and gold,” Hadavad said wistfully. “Princess Reyna wore a circlet of sapphires that shone a clearer blue than the sun on the waves. She was radiant, the envy of every woman and elf in all of Verda.”

  “Your recollection is accurate,” Inara replied, more convinced than Athis.

  “The two of you are far from home,” the mage commented.

  Inara could see that it was an attempt to diffuse the tension and she went along with it, for now. “Everyone is far from home in these lands. We are on Dragorn business,” she added vaguely.

  Hadavad glanced at the overbearing dragon before collecting his staff and cautiously moving towards the fire. “Sounds serious.”

  “And what brings you to The Undying Mountains?” Inara asked pointedly. “And what is this war you speak of? I think the Dragorn would know if there was a war going on.”

  Hadavad knelt by the fire and put his hands out to warm up. “Maybe they do know and you’re the only one who doesn’t…”

  That reply saw Athis adjusting his bulk to stand over the mage again. Inara could feel the dragon emanating his emotions, pushing the feeling of being disrespected onto Hadavad. For anyone but a Dragorn, this was the only way the great wyrms of the sky could communicate with normal people. It was enough to make the mage shrink a little and hold his hands out.

  “I meant no offence,” he offered. “I have lived in a world of secrets for more years than I care to count. I always assume the same of everyone else. A fault of mine to be sure.”

  Inara subtly flexed her fingers and bade Athis to relax a little. The dragon sighed, almost blowing out the fire, and backed off.

  “You don’t like answering questions, do you?”

  The mage seemed to miss her every word, instead, focusing on the glyphs around the fire. “That’s very good,” he complimented. “Do they teach magic on The Lifeless Isles or is it a skill passed through your bond? Just curious…”

  Inara couldn’t get the measure of the man and she hated it. The Dragorn walked around the fire and sheathed her Vi’tari blade before crossing her legs on the ground. If the threatening presence of a dragon wasn’t enough to make a man talk, then what would?
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  “Perhaps we should play a game?” Inara suggested. “I answer a question, then you answer a question. Sound fair?”

  Hadavad blew into his hands. “I don’t suppose there’s much else to do up here. Let’s play…”

  Inara considered her answer. “We learn many things on The Lifeless Isles,” she began. “Magic, mediation, diplomacy, politics…” The Dragorn gripped the hilt of her blade. “How to use a sword. We are blessed by the natural magic that flows through the dragons. It enhances our ability to use it.” Inara lifted her chin and wondered for a moment how on earth she had found herself in this situation. “There, I’ve answered your question and then some.”

  “Thank you,” Hadavad said with a bow. “Please, ask your question.”

  “What war do you speak of?” Inara asked.

  The mage took a deep breath and stared into the fire. “That question comes with a long and complicated answer.”

  The Dragorn glanced at the eastern horizon. “Winter brings with it long nights. We have time.”

  Hadavad rested his staff across his lap and regarded Athis for a brief moment. “As a Dragorn, you must be privy to the secret history of the world…”

  “I am,” Inara replied confidently, curious as to how much of it was known by the mage.

  “Then you know that humans came first. We were here before the dwarves and it was us, not the gods, who created elf kind.” Again, Inara nodded along and Hadavad continued. “The people of Illian, the humans that is, still believe in the old gods; Atilan, Paldora, Naius… At the end of The War for the Realm, when we learnt the truth about the gods, we few decided to keep it from the world. There were no gods to offer them in return for taking their current deities away, so we maintained the peace.”

  “You are yet to answer my question, Mage,” Inara pointed out.

  Hadavad raised his hand. “Patience, girl. I warned you it wasn’t a simple answer. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. We kept the truth of the gods from the people. Could you imagine the chaos if everyone discovered their gods were once human, and as mad as a bag of cats at that? No, we kept that to ourselves and, of course, history’s secret keepers… The Dragorn.”