by Toni Cox
Kanarel’s voice dripped with disdain and Blaid looked at him with disgust.
“So why involve the Vampyres?” Blaid asked.
“Because they can give me what I want and I have exactly what they need.”
“What do you want?”
“Power. Power to change our world for the better. Don’t you see? Elveron is going to die unless we bring ourselves out of this old way of life and bring in something new. We need to take this planet to a new level, advance ourselves and become the great people we deserve to be.” Kanarel spoke with fervour.
“And you think by letting the Vampyres devour half our people you will achieve that?”
“Bah,” Kanarel spat, “they are a means to an end. They will see me into power and, in return, we will provide them with food, clothing and all the raw materials they need. It is a simple business transaction. If they eat a few people in the process, then so be it.”
Blaid thought he could not hate a person more than he hated Kanarel right at that moment. Every man had different ambitions, that he understood, but Kanarel’s twisted plans for the future and his nonchalance towards the costs involved of achieving them was more than Blaid could take.
“You know you are not leaving here alive,” he hissed.
“It matters little,” Kanarel said. “There are others who will take my place. There are more hungering for advancement than you might imagine.”
“You mean the ones in the stronghold? They are already dead.”
Blaid saw Kanarel’s eyes widen in shock for a brief moment, but then he was calm again.
“They were but a few. Once the Vampyres overpower Lord Longshadow’s armies, the others will come into power.”
Kneeling next to Kanarel, Blaid squeezed his hand over the deep bite mark on Kanarel’s shoulder. The man hissed.
“And when will that happen? When is the Vampyre army supposed to come through?”
When Kanarel did not answer, Blaid squeezed harder, blood now dripping between his fingers.
“You are too late, Death,” he whispered and Blaid leant in closer to hear him. “It has already begun. There is nothing you can do to stop it now.”
The moment Kanarel had finished speaking he head butted Blaid, splitting his forehead. Blaid reeled from the shock and felt his warm blood trickle down over his left eye. While he was trying to recover, Kanarel freed himself from the branches of the tree and raced over to his weapons. Blaid stood, wiping the blood out of his eye and then crouched into a defensive position. Air, Fire, and Earth, plus the ability to communicate with animals; Kanarel was truly a foe to be reckoned with.
“Goodbye, Death,” Kanarel said as he grabbed his pack and the air began to shimmer in front of him.
After everything he had learned from Kanarel, Blaid could not let him get away. The man had to die, Elf or not, and the time for that was now. He thought about the Elves that had already died, about the ones that were about to die and the ones that had betrayed their own kind to make it all happen. Suddenly a fire raged within him that burned stronger than the sun. His body began to quiver and, although the feeling felt like it lasted for hours, he changed into the wolf within but a fraction of a moment and launched himself at the spot where Kanarel’s air was still shimmering.
Caught up in Kanarel’s Air magic, he was not able to see himself and was guided by pure instinct. In mid jump, he made a small correction and, when he eventually sank his teeth into flesh, it was on Kanarel’s throat. He felt the hot, sweet blood flow between his teeth and felt the wind from Kanarel’s lungs rush past his face. Biting down harder, he held on while Kanarel struggled. Weaker and weaker the struggles became until eventually the man hung limp between his teeth. Disgusted by the taste of Elf in his mouth, he let go and Kanarel’s body flopped lifelessly to the ground.
Kanarel’s magic had died with him and they were now visible again. Blaid changed back and searched for Kanarel’s water canteen to wash out his mouth. Then he looked for the cloak, but it had torn when he changed into the wolf. Naked, he proceeded to drag Kanarel out of the open and under some brush. The wolves would find him, or the ravens; it was more than he deserved.
He grabbed Kanarel’s pack and slung it across his shoulder. He picked up the sword and the knife and then headed back towards his own camp. He needed to hurry now. If what Kanarel had said was true, then the war had already begun. He hoped he was wrong. Even with shadow travelling, it would take him two to three days to get to Shadow Hall and that was with minimal rest.
He reached his camp and found his clothes where he had stashed them beside the cliffs. Quickly he changed, then repacked the bags so he would only have to carry one and then attached the extra weapons to the back of it. He hated to have to carry them while he was shadow travelling, but he needed them to trade with.
He erased all signs from the land that he had been there and then channelled his energy. He pictured the road ahead; the Trade Route was well marked here and he had travelled it before. He was still tired from the fight and had not eaten, but he should still be able to reach the harbour within an hour or so. Everything now depended on him getting to Shadow Hall as soon as possible; he had to warn Lord Longshadow.
I hope I am not too late, he thought as his form dissolved into shadow.
She woke slowly; every fibre of her body hurt and there was a pain in her heart that, for a moment, she could not explain. Then tears flooded her eyes as she remembered Riker’s broken, dead body lying in her arms. Angrily she wiped the tears away. Kanarel would pay for what he had done.
As she looked around she noticed she was lying under a make-shift shelter and only a little sunlight was filtering through the opening. She moaned as she sat up and immediately the flap of the opening was drawn back and Rothea’s head appeared.
“Good morning, My Lady,” she smiled at her. “It is good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” Maia answered tiredly. “But I will be all right. Was I asleep for long?”
“Only a little longer than us,” Rothea replied. “But I think we might all have slept for about a day or so. Midnight had to watch over us.”
“How is he?” Maia asked as she climbed out of the opening.
Rothea did not need to answer. Midnight lay alert in front of her make-shift shelter, watching her emerge. She immediately went to him and leant against his muzzle. The emotions that passed between them were complicated, yet simple at the same time.
“Ah, our princess arises,” Jaik said behind her, Wolf at his heels.
Maia turned and he took her in his arms.
“I am sorry I had to put you all through this. Thank you,” she said to him, absently scratching Wolf behind his ear. “How is everyone?”
“They are all rested now and none have suffered lasting damage. Even the horses are back on their feet, but we have taken them over the hill to graze as they are still wary of Midnight. He has not left your side and I dare say he looked after all of us while we were resting.”
“How so?” Maia asked as she gratefully took a cup of tea Rothea brought her.
“There were wolves around during the night and even the horses had enough sense to stay close to Midnight. Once the sun came up, the horses then drifted away and Midnight spread his wings over us so that we might not burn. We all woke around noon and then erected the shelter around you. We have sent a message to Father to let him know what happened and that we will return home as soon as you awake. Are you all right to travel now, or would you prefer to wait till the morning?”
Maia considered the sun for a moment; it was already mid-afternoon and they probably only had another three or four hours of travel time, but she wanted to leave this place. She glanced over to where she could still see the fallen dragon and she shuddered. Of Riker, she saw nothing and she assumed that Jaik had probably sent his body back to Shadow Hall with one of his men. She did not want to think about it.
“I think it best that we be on our way immediately.”
“All right, I will gather my men.”
Quickly Maia and Rothea packed up the make-shift shelter and then extinguished the fire Rothea had used to make the tea. Midnight moved away a distance, flapped his wings experimentally a few times and took to the air. Maia felt his joy as he soared into the sky and she was glad that they had been able to mend his wings.
Soon the men came with the horses and they all mounted. The horses were still skittish around the dead dragon, but Maia also felt defiance from them. Having been linked to Midnight, he might have shared with them his victory over the white one. As Fire snorted loudly as they rode past, she knew it was so.
They made camp in a small wood that night and were on their way again as soon as the sun crested the eastern horizon. Maia was in a hurry to get home and everyone felt the same. They rested only when the horses needed to drink, and another day later they rode over the Grazing Grounds to the stables.
Maia was desperate for a shower; her clothes were soiled with Riker’s and Midnight’s blood and, although she had tried to wash most of it out, her skin and hair were covered in it as well. She imagined she was quite a sight and she could even smell herself. The others did not look or smell any better. It had been a terrible few days and she was glad to be home.
Once they had packed away their tack and stabled their horses, they took The Ascent, the path that led to the city. It wasn’t long before the news spread that they were back and Maia was not surprised to see Silas hurry up the steps to meet them as they stepped onto Loft Run, the highest of the three main aerial walkways of their city.
“I am glad that you made it back so soon,” he greeted them and gave Maia a brief hug.
“We left as soon as we could,” Jaik replied.
“I am afraid I have dire news,” Silas continued. “Once you have refreshed yourselves please meet us at the Hall of the Guardians as soon as you can.”
“Yes, Silas,” Maia and Jaik replied.
Silas turned and hurried down the steps before them. They followed at a somewhat slower pace and Jaik ordered his men to go home and rest, except for Archer, who was to report to the Hall of the Guardians with them.
“I wonder what is happening,” Maia said as they stepped into their home; she did not think she could handle any more bad news.
“I am sure we will find out soon enough, but it does not sound good,” Jaik replied.
Half an hour later they were all ready to go. It was almost dark by the time they crossed the Gathering Grounds and all around the city lanterns were being lit. Even in their hurry, Maia did not fail to notice the beauty of their city. This was what they were fighting for; this was what they were protecting.
They entered their father’s study and found Commanders and Silas already assembled. Even the Commanders from Thala Yll were present and Maia wondered if their dragons were currently roosting on The Crags. A quick mental link with Midnight confirmed that The Crags were crowded with Battle Dragons, all in full armour; they must have just arrived.
“Good,” her father said, “now that everyone is present, we can continue.”
Quickly Jaik and Maia took their seats while Archer and Rothea took their places by the door.
“Most of the armies have now arrived and are assembled around Greystone,” her father said. “Unfortunate news has reached us from Tarron Heights. Vampyres have been spotted in their area and Lord Tallson has withdrawn some of his men to return home to protect their city. At first, we thought this to be an isolated incident, but this morning we received another message that Dragonfort was under attack. At noon, a bird arrived carrying news that Rathaés was besieged by a large force of Vampyres.”
Maia gasped and looked towards Silas, who simply nodded to her.
“We have been in discussions all afternoon and we are now of the opinion that the Vampyres had planned to draw our armies away, so that they might attack the cities. We are unsure of their numbers and around which cities they have stationed themselves, but we assume that all within Grildor are in danger. Most Lords have requested their Commanders to return with their army to protect their cities, but that would leave Greystone undefended should a Vampyre army still come through the Gate.”
A murmur went through the assembled people. The topic of sending the warriors home was obviously a difficult subject.
“As we have solid information, gathered by my daughter, that there is, indeed, an army assembling at the Gate, we simply cannot take the risk of withdrawing our armies from there. But that leaves us with the problem of defending our cities. The Lords are anxious and are awaiting a decision.”
“We are prepared to leave our Legion at Greystone, but would like to withdraw our Guard and at least half of our Regiment to return to Thala Yll,” Commander Arkenbay said.
“Thank you, Commander Arkenbay,” her father replied. “How many Battle Dragons would that leave us with?”
“We would provide you with at least one hundred dragon mounted Regiment. Some of the Legion is horse mounted, but most are on foot.”
“Horses we can provide,” Jagaer replied and he nodded to Silas to make a note before he continued. “I believe this to be a fair plan of action. If everyone agrees, then we will send birds immediately to everyone to make the necessary arrangements.”
Maia got the feeling that they had been discussing this for some time already and this had come out on top as the most practical plan of action. She saw men nod all around her.
“But if the cities are already under attack, then will the warriors get there in time if they leave now?” Commander Ridgewell asked.
“We do not know, Rowlean,” Jagaer said, “but they have to try. Rathaés is well fortified and they can probably last the siege until their reinforcements get there. Tarron Heights also has good defences and their warriors are already on their way. The other cities, well, we can only hope that we are not too late.”
“Father,” Jaik asked, “will we be doing the same here at Shadow Hall?”
“Yes, I want the Guard to remain here, as well as Maia and Midnight. The entire Night Watch and the Sentinels will remain here, but we will keep the Legion and most of the Regiment at the Gate. Most of them are already there and the rest will leave in the morning. Commander Ridgewell already has his orders.”
A shudder ran down Maia’s back and she had a vision of cities overrun and people lying dead in the streets. The Vampyres were attacking on multiple fronts.
“I agree,” Jaik said, “it seems like our best option at the moment. I hate to be dividing our forces like this, but there is nothing to be done about it.”
“Aye,” someone else agreed, and then the call was taken up by everyone assembled.
“Silas, I trust you to get these messages out with all urgency,” Jagaer said. “Commander Arkenbay, Commander Hollowdale, I wish you speed on your return and hope that your city is safe. Please let us know the situation as soon as you arrive.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Rowlean and Evandeor replied in unison.
“We will not detain you any longer then. Fly true and may the Mother be with you.”
Jagaer dismissed them and the men rose and left. Now present in the room were the Commanders of Shadow Hall, and Jagaer continued to give his orders. The city was now on high alert and her father was leaving nothing to chance.
Maia’s head reeled; Riker dead, almost losing Midnight, her nation under attack. It was too much. By the end of the meeting she was shaking and so weak she could barely stand. Rothea escorted her home and put her to bed. Wolf came to lie on her bed and she stroked him absently as she drifted off to sleep.
In the morning, though, it did not look any better. She felt a little stronger, not so tired, but the ache within her was a constant reminder of her loss. There was a piece of her heart which had belonged to Riker and it was dead now.
With a heavy heart, she donned her black leathers, buckled her boo
ts, and strapped on her hunting knife. Somehow, she felt stronger in her riding gear than if she had worn a dress. The burial would be held out by the Burial Grounds, a sacred place about half a mile into the forest up the slope of Shadow Peak. It was where they had buried their dead for millennia.
A sombre procession wound its way through the forest that morning. Her father was in the lead, which bespoke the respect he had for the men to be buried. Riker, carried by four men, was directly behind him. Then followed the two men assigned to escort Kanarel. These were also carried by four men each. The rest of the city walked behind. Most of the people were singing, but Maia could not find the words; her throat was thick and tears were threatening her eyes. She barely noticed where she was going and she stumbled often. Jaik and Rothea were by her side, guiding her along.
The Burial Grounds were a wondrous place, full of flowers and colour. They did not make use of grave stones or such items, but each time a person was buried, a tree or flower was planted over the place where the person had been laid to rest. It looked more like a beautifully maintained garden, than a place where one could feel such sorrow.
Maia had been asked to choose a plant for Riker; his parents had been aware of his feelings for her and it was an honour that they had elected her to make that decision. She had agonised over the decision for a while, but then Midnight reminded her that Riker was Calm-Blue-Waters and the choice had been simple.
The procession split into three and each man was lowered into the ground in the place that had been chosen for him. Every person present took part in covering the bodies with soil; always singing; and when the time came, Maia stepped forward and knelt to plant the seeds of eleven Lumina above the heap that was now Riker’s grave. As the crowd fell silent, Maia started to sing. It was hesitant at first, but as the tears flowed freely, her voice became stronger. It was a song full of mourning, but also full of love and life.