In A Time Of Darkness

by Gregory James Knoll

  * * * * *

  Elryia had not said a word since they began moving. No one had. Only decided where they were headed first, then each found a place on the road and journeyed in complete silence. El, behind them all, still had tears streaming down her face. Though her sobs had quieted, the occasional sharp breath and slight murmur exited occasionally. Many had tried to console her, none had the words to. Some placed their hand upon her shoulder, others hugged and held her tight or rode up simply to sit with her. It did not help; they knew it wouldn't. Yet the effort continued, no matter how futile, and each remained close together, looking back at the young woman, and then to each other. Every one of them had their own pain to deal with, but they knew Elryia's was the worst. All hope had been lost, and with it the group's morale and direction, each faced a dire question, one which none would voice.

  What now?

  Searching for the answer, any and all had turned their eyes, as well as their trust, to the only other living member of the Highlace Kingdom. Coincidentally at the front of the group, hanging his head and as silent as any of them.

  Lornya could sense the tension and despondence swelling amongst him, she could almost see it wavering over his blonde crown. "Rist... do you want to talk?"

  For a time, he had been incoherently staring at the edge of his saddle. As she approached, he turned up, a hollow gaze on his face. "Aye... though I know not what to say."

  "Nor, I. It's... almost unimaginable...I almost wish I had not..."

  "Please, Lor. Please do not blame yourself."

  "How can I not? It was I who asked him, almost insisted that he go. It was my fault he was placed in that danger, and if I had not asked this of him he would still be alive."

  "But where would the rest of us be? Trying to find another way to kill Valaira, and to save this world. I don't believe you ordered him into anything. Aye, you told him of it, that much is true, but Grahamas would have gone just the same had he read it in a legend, regardless of the dangers. If it meant freeing this world, he would have made that choice no matter what. And..." Ristalln took a quick breath and his lip shivered, taking a moment before he spoke again. "He gladly would have given his life if he knew it would have saved even another one. Any one. That's who he was."

  "...it still hurts, even knowing that."

  "I know. Believe me, I do." Then he slowed, looking up at her with gentleness and sincerity. "Can I confess something that may help?"

  "Aye. Of course."

  He took another moment before speaking, a slight quirk turning the edges of his mouth up, almost in a smile. "I love you."

  "Do you mean that?"

  "Aye, very much."

  Her horse crept over, and her hand reached out to take his, her eyes now shedding tears for a different reason. "I love you as well."

  And, at least for the moment, he was right. Her pain faded, if only slightly.

  Behind them, Gort, Lanyan and Gnert were not fairing as well. Since leaving the mists, Gort had not said a word, not shown an emotion on his stern face. He simply—and surprisingly—hugged Elryia, whispered something to her as he led her to Feiron, then mounted his own ride. From there, he tugged one hammer off his belt and attempted to balance and catch it ever since, all without a whisper. Not a mutter, not a curse. Even for him that was rare.

  Next to him, Gnert was almost a mirrored image, and just as vocal as a reflection could be. His eyes stared straight forward, occasionally his black eyebrows would raise up against the edge of his helmet. To others, it seemed as though he was deep in thought, the look he often received when an idea was racing through his mind. But none knew that inside his tiny, complex head was logic. Simply trying to understand death, as well the meaning of life, trying to tell himself anything that would make him feel even the slightest bit better.

  Lanyan rode on the other side, he the only one who had spoken. "Gort...?"

  "Aye?"

  "Can I borrow one of your hammers?"

  "Aye." Gort tugged at his belt with his left hand, then outstretched it towards the Elf to hand it over, without ever averting his eyes.

  "Appreciated." Lanyan took it and placed the handle’s end on the top of his fingers, but a second later he had taken it back into his palm to place his focus on the Dwarf. "Gort... do you practice this now to focus on it, instead of something else, something potentially more painful?"

  Again, Gort did not look up. "Aye."

  With a nod, Lanyan reached out and placed his hand upon the Dwarf's shoulder. "Aye. Me too, old friend. Me too."

  Gort gave only a slow, knowing nod as both looked straightforward, not another word shared between them.

  "I wish there was something we could do." Merial looked back on Elryia from time to time, but gave her attention and words towards the Mage sitting directly in front of her.

  "As do I. I've asked if she wished to ride with us, but she declined. I think she would rather just be alone for now."

  "But it's not good for her..."

  "I know, but we can't force her. We can only be here for her when she is ready."

  Merial sighed, trying to ignore the dull ache she felt in her torso, one that turned her face in an obscure manner for a moment before she laid the side of it against his back. "Don't leave me...ever."

  "I won't."

  "Promise?"

  "I promise you."

  "Good." She had to ask. She could not bear the thought of anyone else departing. This was already too much for her. It was not only the loss of a man she admired and looked up to, one who carried with him the beliefs and values she sought so hard to achieve, beliefs that she would one day try and instill in her children. It was more than the pain of the empty space she now saw, both within in the group and the hearts of those around her. It was having even a shred of an idea of what Elryia was going through. Knowing what this woman—one who was younger than her but had been her guide through so much, the only one who believed in her and made her want to fight—was enduring proved almost too much for her. When she looked back, the young woman was still silent, staring down at a tiny pendant gripped between her fingers. "Slow down, a bit Jer." The Mage nodded and held the reigns, allowing the solemn, unfocused Elryia to catch up. "Ely...talk to me. What can I do?"

  It took a moment for the young woman to draw out of her thoughts enough to realize Merial was talking to her. Soft, watery eyes turned up—her mouth straight, not smiling, not frowning and slowly she shook her head. "Nothing..."

  "El..." Jeralyle interjected, turning back to face her as well, but she remained just as distant. "You know we're here if you need us, aye?" She nodded again, then slowed her horse even further to draw away from them, once more hanging her head.

  She had faded much further back than the first time, prompting a quick sigh from Merial. "Jer... we have to do something for her."

  "We'll figure something out..."

  "We have to. We need her...now more than ever."

  Revolution, Be It By Pride Or Respect

  Though every member of the group worried that if they stopped their thoughts would catch up to them, they had no options. Each was physically drained, mentally spent and trying to survive on an empty stomach. They had rode so hard they managed to make it back to the first forest where the encounter with Valaira and Nwour occurred. None wanted to enter, fearing it would drag up old memories, but each knew it was safer this way. They had to stop, had to rest. The journey from here on out was only going to get harder. And all but one swallowed the pain, the angst, the empty hollow feeling festering in their throats to enter the clearing. Only Elryia remained outside of it, now riding atop Feiron, trying to find any kind of comfort in it. It was there she remained, even after all others had sat, started a fire and began eating. When the meal had ended, Jeralyle removed the board for Kingdom, placed every piece—both light and dark—upon it. And though it appeared he wished to play, he would decline the half-hearted offer by Ristalln and another from Merial, who simply sat with him and stared. Al
l others followed, sitting in silence, united in their mourning. All except El, who struggled alone.

  Lornya looked over from time to time, asked her to come over but her request went unanswered. She knew, as did the rest, that she needed time and though it wasn't good for her, they didn't have a better alternative. It wasn’t helping any of them. So, rather, she sought to address it with them, hopeful that Elryia would hear, and that would be enough to at least inspire her to open up a bit.

  "I know..." She began, staring at the dancing flames before her eyes "that everyone has many things on their mind now. I can respect if you wish to keep them to yourselves, but if you'd like to talk, I would be happy to listen."

  At first, nothing. Only stillness existed among them, and Lornya had all but given up, nodded her head in acceptance when a meek, weary voice from Merial pierced through the quiet air. "I... I miss him and I know it's only going to grow deeper as time goes on. I just wish that I could have told him even though I had known him for a short time that I thought he was wonderful."

  Jeralyle crept his arm around her shoulder and pushed the air from his lungs in a heavy sigh. "I wish I had got to know him better... to learn more from him. He was always quiet, but deep within his eyes you could tell he had a wealth of knowledge he wished to share."

  "He did." Ristalln smiled half-heartedly as he looked back on his memories, but his eyes still echoed the pain that he was feeling. "He had that same look when I met him for the first time, centuries ago. He shared many things with me. There was a time when I believed he knew everything. Still kind of do."

  "Yet with all that..." Lanyan spoke. "He still struck me as one of the most grounded, humble people I've ever known. He felt like one of us, he treated us as equals."

  "He... he felt like a friend." Gort's tone was oddly serene, the statement causing everyone to jerk their stares up at him. "What...?" He replied to Merial's toying smirk. "I know what that feels like." Mare's only response was to giggle, one that faded far too quickly.

   Lornya interjected "Grahamas was more than that. He was our leader."

  "I feel lost without him..." Merial whispered.

  The Knight looked up slowly, moving his head in agreement. "Aye. As do I."

  "So where do we go from here? What do we do now?"

  "We fight." All gazes rose to fire on Elryia, to see her breaking through the forest's edge. "As long as we stand." She moved with a certainty, she sat with defiance, and behind those blue orbs lay the strong, courageous young woman they had all known, the one they worried was lost.

  "Elryia... are you well to talk about this?"

  "I will be... one day." Her eyes scanned over the group quickly. "But this isn't about me, it never was. If I've learned one thing from him, that was it. He's... gone, but he's still needed and those who depended on him to be free, yet never knew him, now require us to succeed. I am going to carry on his dream, and his destiny, no matter what. I hope that you're all with me."

  It was a question she didn't have to ask, a request she didn't have to make. They had all made their decision before she even finished speaking, and each voiced it with a nod and that same stern gaze she now wore. Ristalln seeming more eager than all of them, and despite being the most experienced and the most fitting for the role of leader, turned his eyes to Elryia, forfeiting it to her. "Where do we begin?"

  "In Forgas. Javal has willingly given us his aid, so it's best we coordinate with him to get everything settled. Once we have, I would ask you, Lanyan, to return to Sharia. Hopefully with Javal behind us, it will be enough to convince Rasonius. The rest of us will remain there, gather what dwarves and men we can find, and begin training them."

  "Is three months long enough?" Jeralyle couldn't help but ask.

  "It's going to have to be."

  Ristalln looked up, first to Elryia, then Lanyan. "We've trained civilians in less time. They won't be experts by any means, but we have something his soldiers do not."

  "What's that?" Gort quipped.

  Valiant went to answer, but Lanyan beat him to it. "Morale. Heart. The most important thing one can have in any fight."

  "And we must remember that, to the very day and beyond. We, above all else, have to remain vigilant." Elryia stood. "I know everyone is tired, and rightly so. We won't travel to Forgas tonight, but we'll head out at dawn's break." She turned and began heading back to the forest's end, but gave one final look to them. "Get some sleep, everyone."

  "Elryia... you promise you're well?" Lornya asked, narrowing her gaze on the young woman.

  "Aye, I promise." The Goddess flicked her head, prepared to leave it at that. In essence, Elryia was not. She would be one day, as she told them, but inside she held the most pain she'd ever felt in her life. A deep, dark emptiness that started in her core, crept along her veins and erupted through her entire body. It was physical, it was mental and she could almost feel it tapping at the walls of her very soul. It was the same feeling she had when her parents were killed so many years ago. At that time, it was something she thought would destroy her, but Grahamas had been with her for every step and every tear—caring for her, reassuring her. He had told her one of the many things she would always carry. That it was just as important to remember and celebrate their life as it was to mourn their death. That they were never truly gone as long as she kept some part of them with her; carried at least one memory. As she moved out towards the edge and sat down, staring out into the night sky, she held that at the front of her mind. Her fingers rose, crept along the chain wrapped around her neck to make their way to the locket, then placed it in her palm, a teary gaze falling down upon it. "I miss you so much, already." She whispered, a part of her wondering—hoping—that he could hear her now. "We haven't been apart in almost ten years and now I have to be without you forever." She sighed, tracing her fingers over the pendant. "There was so much I wish I could have said to you and told you. Even though it may not have changed anything, at least you would have known." She gave one quick glance back to the group before letting it turn back to the sky once more. "I will try and lead them as you would have, and I promise that I will never, ever let your memory fade. We will earn the freedom you sought for the people, any way we can, and they will know who led them there." She took a deep breath and a single tear slipped out, rolling along her soft cheek. "I love you, Grahamas."

  At that moment, a warm gentle breeze, carrying the serene smell of lavender rushed from the north and caressed her face, pushed her hair back away from her tired eyes. It was short lived, yet within it, she swore she heard a whisper. It faded, a faint sense of peace washed over her, enough to allow her to lean back and fall asleep.

  Only a heartbeat passed, and she imagined the entire night had passed her. When she woke, still groggy, she found herself staring out along a sun-soaked valley she believed she had slumbered in front of. She could see long wild grass spread out, bending to the will of the wind. Amidst the unending space, in five seemingly random places were trees, all that appeared to be older than time. Elryia did not recall seeing them on the way here, and could not decipher how they appeared. Though she knew not why, all held a strong amount of significance—one especially.

  She held her gaze on it for a long time, and a shrouded, fragmented memory worked its way into her murky mind. She tried, however briefly, to explain how she woke up to find herself here, only to realize she never had; the young woman had tumbled deep into a dream. One of a place she had only visited twice in her life: Loruze.

  Her first had only been in passing. The second was intentional. A trip Grahamas had opted for shortly before they began their quest to free the people. He hoped to come back to where it all began, to guide him while starting anew. As inspiration, both for her and him.

  A breeze drifted from the south, carrying across the field and directly passed the tree. Eventually it made its way to her and she swore she heard him whisper one word: Believe. From the dust that billowed around the lone oak’s roots she caught a misty, translu
cent image of Grahamas bowing to her.

  Even in her dream state, the sight stirred her memory even deeper. It spiraled down, bringing a strong, clear recollection of that day. It was the first time Elryia had shown refrain—perhaps even fear—for that which they would embark on. Grahamas, as he always had in times of struggle, took her by the hand and eased her back, simply with his words and compassion.

  “Ultimately,” She remembered him say, as though she was hearing his voice now “it’s your choice to walk away, and I would think no less of you. It’s selfish of me to ask you, or anyone, to fight for a world and a life you’ve never known. I’m asking you to believe, based only on what I’ve told you, and risk your life for nothing more than hope.”

  At that point, he turned her to face him directly. “El,” he asked and she saw a glimmer of pain and regret cross his expression “do you know why I imagine no one survived after Highlace was attacked?” She reached a hand to his shoulder and shook her head. “Because they didn’t want to. Idimus could have taken them prisoner, forced them into slavery, kept them alive. Had they given up, he may have. But they battled him to the bitter end. I know they did, because I would have done the same thing. And we all believed in Highlace, so much that we would rather have died fighting for it than live without it. I know it’s hard to imagine that, and difficult to want to fight for something that doesn’t yet exist, but I promise you I will do everything in my power to make sure it’s worth it. That everyone has that life again.”

  That was all Elryia needed to hear, and she imagined others would feel the same. “I promise you that as well, Grahamas. I want you, me…everyone to find freedom.” She smiled, and took a moment to stare at him before looking out upon Loruze. “And we’ll win.”

  “Aye. Because for everything Idimus attains, he does not have those that would do the same thing for him. His soldiers are paid, and most have no heart for battle. All it would take is one simple thing to turn them, and they’d never look back.”

  The memory was strong, and clear. His words dominating as though she was hearing them in that exact moment. The last sentence rung out, and echoed upon itself before the sun exploded over the mountains and blazed away her image of Loruze. A heartbeat later it struck Elryia's eyelids, waking her completely. She took a deep breath and a moment to look around, behind her the sound of the group gathering was already filling the forest.

  She rose, shook of the last remnants of stiff muscles and fog. When she entered the clearing, Gort, Lanyan, Merial, Jeralyle and Gnert were all in one group, Ristalln and Lornya in another. Upon Elryia's approach, the Goddess turned her eyes up to greet her. "Did you sleep?"

  Elryia closed the distance before she responded. "Aye, surprisingly. You?"

  "A bit here and there. Is something wrong... you rushed in here and your eyes look rather eager."

  "No, not in the least. But I was thinking about what was said last night regarding morale. I have an idea that will help us do that." In hearing this, the rest of the group made their way over to her.

  "How so?"

  "It's complicated, and I think it best explained when I have actually finished, but I will need to travel east."

  "I..." Ristalln said. "Meaning you're traveling alone." The Knight looked a tad worried.

  She reassured him with a smile. "Aye, but you have more important things to worry about than my safety. I want you to carry on to Forgas and Lanyan to Sharia from there."

  He looked skeptical, and though he wanted to argue Merial cut him off before the debate went any further than his mind. "El... I'd like to come with you..." she received a gentle nudge from the Mage standing next to her. "We... would like to go with you."

  "That would be incredibly helpful, actually." Elryia turned to Ristalln, half smiling again. "Does that ease your mind?"

  "Aye. It does, but I still ask you promise me you'll be safe."

  With a grin, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Only if you promise me the same thing."

  "I do... and things will get better."

  She pulled away to look him straight on. "I know... but you have to believe that as well."

  "I do."

  "No. I can see it in your eyes, even though you're very good at hiding it. You miss him, as we all do, but he's never truly gone as long as we keep his memory alive. Assure me you'll remember that always, despite how hard it may seem." She continued to hold his gaze, until he finally nodded his head. "Good... Take care of him, Lor."

  The Goddess extended her long arms and embraced Elryia quickly. "I will. You just take care of you... and the happy couple." The giggle from both could not be held back, and only furthered when Merial blushed and Jeralyle looked confused, as though he knew not who she spoke of.

  "Done. Lanyan..." She turned to him and pushed her hands to his frame. "I have faith in you. Remind Rasonius what we fight for."

  "I will." He bowed solemnly.

  "Good. Gort... Travel well." She held her hand out to him, but without a word, he crept into her arms, his head tucking underneath her chin. She looked stunned for a moment, but leaned to kiss the Dwarf on the top of his gray-haired head. When he had pulled back, Elryia leaned over to give her goodbyes to the final companion, and she stuck her hand out in order to shake the Gnome's. "Goodbye, Gnert." The furry little creature leaned up from his crouched position to sniff the vertically placed palm then turned his head slightly to press the top into it. With a giggle she scratched lightly and straightened herself.

  "Travel well, Elryia." Lornya bowed as she passed by.

  Elryia gave one last glance along them all. "Take care of them for me."

  "I will, I promise."

  Elryia turned her attention towards her two companions. "Ready?"

  "Aye." Merial said, tucking her hand under Jer's arm leading him along as Elryia walked forward. Each gave one last look to the others. Elryia was all the way across the forest, and had run her hand over Feiron's long face before she placed herself in the saddle, turning the loyal mount towards the east.

  "Where are we headed?" Jeralyle asked once Elryia was set and Merial was tucked to his back.

  "Davaina." She stated, walking Feiron forward.

  "What for?"

  "A friend."