by Jeff Gunzel
Ilirra masked a sigh of relief. Shantis was still alive somewhere. She wanted to find her friend, to try and enlist aid from these so-called rebels. But all of that would have to wait. She had to stop this force from invading Taron, and no price was too high. “Enough of this game! As queen of Taron, I am charged with the defense of its people. Thousands of lives will be spared if the two of us can just reach a compromise.”
Ilirra waited, watching the face of Filista as the man spoke. Her smirk returned, yellow eyes sparkling with delight even while she gave him her reply. He turned to Ilirra, a solemn expression on his face. The Queen felt a slight twinge of guilt at seeing his face. The poor man obviously didn’t want to be here. “The thousands of spared lives you speak of would be human, not cryton. What do you think to offer me that I couldn’t take myself?”
Ilirra sighed, then for the first time, hung her head in defeat. She already knew it would come to this, and had made peace with herself over this sacrifice. Tugging at her buckle, loosening the leather belt that held her sheath, her glorious sword fell to the ground. “Despite your arrogance, you know both sides would incur great loses. And even after the dust settles, and the mighty walls of Taron are stained red with blood, the people will never follow you. Surely you know that.”
Filista’s high-cheeked smirk faded once again while the man chattered in her ear. Were the humans more resistant than she once believed? Would they still not recognize her superiority, even after their army was beaten soundly? And even after that, still refuse to follow her? For the first time during this well-planned campaign, she felt a tinge of worry.
“You ask what I have to offer. What can I give you that you can’t take on your own?” Ilirra reached behind her back, forcing many of the crytons to tense. Her clenched hand returned holding her golden crown, covered with colorful jewels. With a snap of her wrist, she flung it towards Filista, who caught it with one hand. The cryton stared at it, eyes wide with wonder and greed. “On your word, from one ruler to another, that none of my people be harmed,” Ilirra dropped to her knees, “I willingly offer you my title...as Queen. As long as no harm comes to my people, Taron is yours to do as you see fit.”
Filista nearly drooled, eyeing the ornate headpiece. She gently placed it on her own head. Could she have ever hoped for more than this? With her hands stretched up to the sky, head leaning back, she spoke so softly the short man could hardly hear her. “I graciously accept your offer.”
Chapter 14
Eric, Eric, the gentle voice whispered in the wind. Now is not the time for sleep. You must rise. Eric’s eyes fluttered against the cool breeze blowing across his face. His limbs felt cold, his body numb. Faintly, he could feel the dust-filled spirals spinning gently around his body while icy winds gusted with a howl. The soft voice was a hollow sound, distant to his ears. Your time is up, Eric. You must rise. He ignored the bothersome voice that threatened his peaceful sleep. After all, this was nothing more than a bad dream. His father would come along any moment now and rouse him from this nightmare; pull him from his bed for yet another day of blacksmithing and training. Rise, Gate Keeper!
His eyes jetted open, lungs filling with cold, dust-filled air. The sudden jolt forced him to cough, each spasm sending waves of white-hot pain through his ravaged body. Mercifully, the coughing began to slow, mostly due to his lungs running out of air. The weak coughs were now more like dry heaves. Eric sat up slowly, carefully, wincing in pain while looking around. Once again, seeing the rotted bodies scattered about made his spirit sink. This wasn’t a dream. He was here, alone, on this forsaken mountain in the middle of nowhere.
But where was the giant? Where was the red-eyed, four-legged monster that had nearly killed him? The body was gone. Eric looked to where the opening in the mountain had been. It was sealed, walled off with stone as if nothing had ever come out. Gone? No, not gone, he thought. That creature is just another mysterious part of the trial. If another ever foolishly walks this path, it will be reborn again. It belongs to this mountain, a humble servant for all eternity.
Ignoring his body’s protests of pain, he got back to his feet. The pathway before him was clearly marked, an uneven stairway carved directly into the stone. There was only one way to see where it led.
In tremendous pain, Eric hobbled across the stone. But before taking the steps, something urged him to turn around. Something seemed...unfinished. He gazed around at the decayed bodies, most nothing but bone, and felt a peaceful sadness. Each of these men had given up their lives for something they deemed noble. Sure, more than one of them was almost certainly mad, but still attempted to do the impossible. And that, if for no other reason, deserved a bit of recognition.
With legs unsteady, pain shooting through his body with each step, he approached one of the corpses. Its jaw hung open in a permanent laugh frozen in time, yet he remained forgotten by the outside world. Eric dipped his head with respect, then followed with a quiet prayer. He proceeded to stand before each of them in turn, lowering his head before offering words of peace. He made sure each prayer was different for each man. After all, these men were all unique, different people from different time periods. They deserved to be recognized as individuals.
Returning to the bottom step, Eric addressed them all at once. Green lightning, still with no thunder attached, lit the sky, cascading Eric’s shadow in all different directions. “My fallen brothers,” he shouted, his clear voice slicing through the wind. “I stand before you now, humbled that I am able to push forward. And in this manner, I stand here not as your superior, but as your brother and equal. This cursed mountain has taken far too many lives. And I intend to end this dark game once and for all!”
Jagged lightning struck the mountain just above the stone platform where he stood. The sizzling crack sent red-hot stones raining down around them. The wind picked up, howling like a wolf, wrapping his long, dark curls around his face. His dark-blue cloak began to flap wildly. He nearly had to scream to overcome the noise of the sudden wind. “Each of us were told that we must walk this path alone. But I don’t believe that. In my heart, I know each of you is with me in spirit, and together, we will finish this as one.”
Three more bolts struck the mountain in succession, two above and one on the stone platform. Its energy seemed to come to life, crackling about, leaping from body to body. The skeletal corpses began to glow, each one radiating its own light as if they were on fire. For a few moments, the light was brilliant. It was so painful to look at that Eric was forced to shield his eyes. After a few moments, the light faded away. Tentatively, he lowered his hands. The corpses were thoroughly charred, taking on a deep black color similar to coal. One by one, they crumbled to dust. Small piles of black soot were all that remained.
Eric watched the piles of dust in disbelief. What did this mean? Had their long, slow sleep finally come to an end? “Be at peace, my brothers,” he whispered. Ready to resume his ascent, he started up the stone stairway before something grabbed his attention. A slight flutter from the corner of his eye. He turned back to look at the black piles of dust, only to witness something he could not explain. Shapeless wisps of gray mist hovered over each of them. The transparent clouds swayed back and forth to an unheard song.
One by one, the bits of fog began to float towards Eric. He braced, not knowing what to do or what they wanted. Without warning, the first one rushed into his chest. Out of reflex, Eric threw up his hands to fend it off, but it was far too late. It wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. The wisp penetrated his cloak, funneling itself into his body. It left no open wounds, nor did it hurt, but he immediately began to sweat.
His hands still up in defense, the others wisps surged forward, passing right through his arms and clothing. Each one slipped into his body with a whooshing sound. Eric dropped to his knees. Feverishly hot, he gazed around, his vision blurry. He watched as the piles of black ash sifted over the edge, carried away by a subtle breeze. The roaring winds were now gone.
His pani
cked breathing began to slow down, the fever starting to break. Feeling better, his body cooling back down, he got back to his feet. Using the front of his cloak, he wiped the sweat from his brow. He felt good…more than good. The burning aches and pains of battle began to fade. His open wounds began closing, and new skin formed, grafting itself together. He took a deep breath, half expecting it to hurt. His lungs filling with cool air felt wonderful. His body was now completely healed. He mouthed a silent “thank you” before continuing on.
The steps were uneven and misshapen, making the danger of tumbling backward a real possibility. But instead of watching his step, he let his mind wander. Thoughts of Jade constantly haunted him. Was she all right? Would she hate him for agreeing to this? And what about Jacob? How was he doing? Last anyone knew, he had snuck off to search for Athel without telling anyone except for Nima. She ultimately confessed to his whereabouts, and even admitted to helping him. Eric wasn’t mad about any of that, though. Jacob needed to walk his own path, just as he did.
And what was going to happen even if he found Athel? Wasn’t the seed a permanent affliction, one that changed its host forever? She wouldn’t hurt him...would she? Best not to think about that. There’s nothing I can do for either of them. Dismissing the troubling thoughts, he pressed on.
It wasn’t long before another platform came into view. A place to rest, maybe? The second test? Only one way to find out. Unlike the first one, this platform was not set directly on the path, but rather on its side. Eric soon found himself parallel with the platform, and easily hopped onto it. Not waiting to see what was going to happen, he unleashed Spark in a roar of fire and ash, then pointed it at the mountain’s cracked face.
“Is this where you attempt to kill me once more?” he asked, red flames pulsing down the blade. Eric felt strange talking to a mountain, but it was clearly self-aware. It seemed to exist only to destroy the Gate Keeper. That was its purpose. Therefore, he deemed it an enemy. And like all Eric’s enemies, it needed to die. There were no bodies anywhere on this platform. “Am I the first ever to stand here?” He waited patiently for his answer while Spark crackled with angry fire.
Lightning flashed repeatedly, illuminating the mountain’s jagged surface. The way the light hit the rock from different angles made it seem like faces were appearing, then disappearing. Mother nature’s clever illusion; one that played tricks on the mind. Contorted faces twisted in pain, whiles others seemed to laugh and grin. Each time the lightning flashed from a different angle, some of the faces seemed to trade places with each other. A clever illusion. A fine trick indeed.
The low rumble of thunder sounded just as heavy rain began to fall in an instant downpour that soaked him to the bone, making Spark hiss defiantly while hot flame licked the heavy droplets. Another green flash lit up the Mountain of Dreams, forcing Eric to step back. Those imagined faces, they were real!
Like a flood, dozens of dwarf men fell from the mountainside, landing on the platform with the grace of cats. Some had the faces of humans, looking like young boys at first glance. Others were so gnarled and deformed, they appeared more like demons. Large noses, red eyes and hooked horns twisted from their warped heads. But their bodies were all nearly identical: short, gray and completely naked. Each holding a curvy-bladed dagger in one hand, they rumbled towards Eric like a swarm of insects.
Caught off guard, Eric gripped his sword, ready for battle. Their incessant chirping was earsplitting. They sounded like a swarm of cicadas unleashed upon the mountainside. When the torrent of little creatures reached his feet, Eric let out a fierce battle cry. He sent Spark through the first wave in a wide, sweeping swing meant to take out as many as he could. But the fiery blade passed right through them like smoke.
Panic surged through him when he felt no resistance from the swing, as if he had missed them all. But he couldn’t have. On reflex alone, he dove to the side, allowing the first wave to rumble past. He completed a somersault, then sprung back to his feet, waving his apparently useless blade. Eric turned left then right, looking, the fire from his blade the only source of light. Where did they go? It was as if they just disappeared.
Having no idea where they went or from which direction they might attack next, his panic returned tenfold. Turning at the shriek of a high-pitched cackle echoing from the darkness, he pointed his blade in that direction. Suddenly, fire shot up the side of his leg. He clutched at the wound while watching one of the little creatures scamper off into the darkness. All he could get was a mere glimpse of horns and a wide smile before it was gone.
The wound wasn’t too deep, but enough to draw blood. Trying to ignore the sting, he limped on one leg, eyes searching the darkness. “Show yourselves, cowards!” he called out, looking around frantically. “You hide within the shadows like rodents. What sort of test is this?” Shrill, mocking laughter followed his words. It came from the left...no, right. Eric spun about helplessly, trying to keep his blade between himself and the next threat. He couldn’t ignore the bloodcurdling shriek directly behind him. He turned, but knew it was a deception the moment he committed.
Another burst of pain shot up the back of his other leg. This cut was deeper. He stumbled forward, throwing his sword in frustration. It obviously wasn’t going to help him anyway. Eric dropped to his knees as impish laughter cackled all around him. Their shrill little squeaks were accompanied by that chirping, cicada-like sound. What could he do against such perversions of nature? Unassuming and small, they appeared to be immune to all physical attacks. Weapons seemed useless against them.
He closed his eyes, deciding they were just as useless as his sword. Each time the little imps wounded him, he never caught more than the slightest glimpse of one. Why didn’t they all just rush him at once? After all, he was defenseless. Was this the mountain’s way of humiliating him? To cut him down, bit by bit, thus drawing out the sadistic game? To prolong the agony as long as possible?
He searched his memory for some clue, some bit of training that might help him here. What was it that his father told him? Of all your senses, trust your eyes the least. That old, familiar voice bounced around in his head. If you really want to see the truth, don’t use them. “I remember, father,” he whispered.
The impish cackling continued. Rather than try and fight through the darkness, searching for them with his crippled sight, he searched with his mind. Rather than listen to their taunting voices, he focused on their energy. Sound could not be trusted; the eyes could be deceived. But a living being’s essence, the very energy that gave them life, could not be masked so easily.
Applying his mind’s eye, he could feel each one of them hiding in the darkness. Their faces twisted up into demonic grins. Without seeing them, he became more aware of their presence than ever. The charred, ancient writings burned into his flesh began to crackle with energy. A golden light sparkled up and down his arms and across his neck. Now locked onto their life forces, he could feel each one of the little fiends.
Noticing that something was a little off about his behavior, the creatures decided to end his torture. They all charged at once in a flood of little gray bodies with twisted features, each waving a blade in circles over their heads. He could feel them, each one giving off its own distinct, unnatural energy.
Still on his knees, Eric reached out with both hands. Golden light shot from his eyes and mouth as he let out a scream so deafening, so thunderous, it shook the mountain itself. Yellow lines of crackling energy radiated up and down his arms, riding along the burnt markings. Dozens of glimmering golden holes opened up before him, each placed directly in the path of one of these charging creatures.
Their screeching battle cries swiftly became squeals of terror and pain. Most slid directly into the glowing portals only to have them snap shut, crushing them like a mouse trap. The few that were able to stop in time turned to run back to the safety of the mountain. Surely the Mountain of Dreams would protect them from this sudden turn of events, rescue them from their impending slaughter.
Eric let out another roar, an unworldly battle cry no human could have produced. Pushing his hands out farther, the golden portals obeyed. They began to drift along, chasing the handful of creatures who had escaped instant death. Reaching the wall of stone, the little demons jumped up and down, clawing at the side of the mountain, pleading to be let back in.
The shimmering holes hit them from behind, pressing them against the stone. They shrieked with pain, faces grinding against cold rock. Eric could end it whenever he wanted with a flick of his wrist, but he didn’t. Deep down inside, some animalistic part of him enjoyed dishing out such pain, prolonging their agony. A moment ago, these things were trying to kill him. And they weren’t going to be quick about it, either. Why should he show them mercy? He crushed them slowly, inch by inch.
A twinge of guilt struck his heart as he ground them into the stone. Not for them; they more than deserved their fate. But what if Jade could see him now? What would she say? Would she even recognize the merciless monster standing before her? Enough, he thought. There is nothing more to prove here. Clenching his fists, the golden doorways snapped down on their prey in a burst of yellow sparkles. The monsters’ harrowing shrieks were short-lived. Death came instantly.
Silent lightning flashed over and over, the only light source illuminating the stone wall before him. A gentle breeze lifted the lower portion of his blue cloak, making it flap and dance like a ghost. He just wanted to stand here a moment longer...and enjoy the silence.