by K. J. Hargan
Yulenth led Desprege down the passage that terminated with corridors to the left or right. Yulenth indicated, high, near the ceiling of the intersection, a part of the brick wall on their left that bulged out.
"See here, Desprege," Yulenth said. "These are the tubes that lead to the surface. The mists that protect the citadel come up from these tubes." Desprege just dumbly shook his head, too frightened to speak, or bother comprehending.
Yulenth stopped before the terminus, and indicated the left passage.
"Around this corner there will be three garonds guarding a door," Yulenth said. "I will try to reason with them first, but I may have to kill them. Just stay behind me. Understand?" Desprege silently shook his head in fearful acknowledgement. Yulenth drew his sword.
As they turned the corner, Desprege could see, from over Yulenth's shoulder, two garonds fearfully huddled on the stone floor at the end of a short corridor. As Yulenth approached, they pointed to the door, but were too frightened to speak.
Yulenth, with his sword up, walked to the large, oak door carved with curious sigils and runes. The garonds whimpered in fear as Yulenth turned the bronze door latch.
"What has happened to the third garond guard?" Yulenth asked himself before he opened the door.
"Who cares," Desprege said, his greed replacing his fear yet again. "The gold. The gold."
Yulenth opened the door and entered the chamber.
The room was an expansive vault, completely dark and apparently empty. Yulenth raised his torch to get a better look at the deserted chamber.
The sound of the garond guards fleeing up to the upper levels echoed behind them.
"Where's the gold?" Desprege greedily whispered.
Something moved in the shadows at the far end of the vault.
"Who's there?" Yulenth challenged raising his sword.
A muffled mumbling whispered from the shadows. The sound of struggling and shuffling emanated from the dark.
Yulenth quickly scanned the room. Where did the tubes originate, he thought, the tubes that belched the mist up to the surface above? Yulenth followed a wall to where the tubes should have run from the ceiling. He discovered two massive holes plugged by some gelatinous mass. Yulenth was puzzled. He lifted his torch and followed the bulky, transparent slime.
Then Yulenth noticed Desprege standing in the center of the vault and looking up, his mouth open in astonished, speechless fear.
Yulenth approached, holding his torch up to see a huge, moving mass covering the entire ceiling. In one part a garond struggled, submerged in the coagulating ooze.
"What is it?" Desprege whispered in horror, frozen to the spot on which he stood.
"Perhaps we should leave," Yulenth said, eyes wide, inching towards Desprege to pull him out of the room.
"How pleasant to have visitors," a dribbling voice gurgled from the ceiling. Yulenth turned to follow the sound of the voice. He discovered a disembodied mouth, with attached larynx floating in the transparent, undulating mass clinging to the ceiling. Yulenth then noticed eyes, hands, hearts, feet, moving, drifting in the gelatinous mass.
"Desprege, get out," Yulenth urgently whispered.
"No, please stay," the detached mouth politely gurgled from the ceiling. "What is your name? He is Desprege. Who are you?"
"Yulenth the glaf," Desprege said, hypnotized with fascinated fear. Yulenth snarled at the fool for giving his name away.
"Yulenth, the glaf, welcome," a different detached mouth dribbled. "I am Lah'ugh'gloth. I welcome you. I do apologize for the relative discomfort of my home. But, that is not my doing. My host keeps my surroundings rather sparse. I think he thinks I might eat the furniture." And then the hideous mass quivered with giggles.
Yulenth could see that the poor, ensnared garond guard was being digested, and slowly pulled apart as it struggled in the gelatinous body of Lah'ugh'gloth.
"What are you?" Desprege whispered with horror.
"I am a demon from hell," a detached mouth calmly smiled. "I was the Dark One's first friend."
"You make the mists that protect the castle," Yulenth ventured.
"Yessss," Lah'ugh'gloth drooled. "Do you wish to join me? It is glorious."
"Not at present," Yulenth quickly said. "I have many things I still have to do outside the citadel," Yulenth said as he backed towards Desprege.
"Oh," Lah'ugh'gloth happily gurgled, "tell me of the outside. I haven't had any reputable news of late. These guards are so tedious and reticent. Have we defeated the humans?"
"Not just yet," Yulenth said as he reached out to grab Desprege by his cloak and pull him towards the door. Yulenth noticed that the creature, as much as it squished around, never let go its grasp on the two large holes in the ceiling that chimneyed to the surface.
"I have been promised a great feast," the monster chortled. "I think that will be very nice. What do you think of my mists?"
"Very impressive," Yulenth said, as he and Desprege inched for the exit. "How do you do it?"
"Magic."
"I don't believe in magic," Yulenth bravely said. "There is an explanation for everything. Although I would be hard pressed to explain you in any way," Yulenth said as he felt for the door latch.
"Please don't go yet," Lah'ugh'gloth said, and then the gelatinous mass shuddered and moved with frightening quickness to hang over Yulenth and Desprege.
"Deifol Hroth expects us," Yulenth said as he creaked the door open, watching the creature carefully. Yulenth then noticed amongst all the dissolving and detached body parts, one single brain floating in the center of the huge, mucus-like aggregation that was Lah'ugh'gloth's transparent body.
Yulenth pushed Desprege out the door.
"It certainly was a pleasure to discover you," Yulenth said with an edge to his voice, trying to mimic the abomination's polite demeanor.
"Please come and see me again," Lah'ugh'gloth very mannerly drooled. "We must converse more about magic. I must convince you of its use and usefulness."
"I will visit you again," Yulenth said with a veiled, grim purpose as he left the room. Once through the door, Yulenth discover Desprege and Deifol Hroth waiting for him in the corridor.
"Oh," Lah'ugh'gloth dribbled upon spying the Dark One through the still open door. "How nice for you to visit me! Have you come to let me finally tour your citadel? I must say, I am very curious of the design. And I would so like to see the elvish bricks. Why, I remember-"
"No," was all Deifol Hroth sternly said, and closed the door on the monstrosity. The Dark Lord turned to Yulenth. "Wandering about the citadel is dangerous," Deifol Hroth said with a meaningful smile.
"I apologize," Yulenth quickly said.
"He was looking for your gold," Desprege blurted out. Deifol Hroth looked sideways at Yulenth, who skillfully pretended to be caught unawares.
"It is true," Yulenth lied, and then pretended to fume at Desprege.
The moment was quiet and filled with tension, and then Deifol Hroth burst out with a merry laugh.
"You found something more valuable than gold, glaf, " Deifol Hroth chortled. "I like you, Yulenth," the Dark Lord of All Evil Magic said as he affectionately put an arm around Yulenth to lead them back up from The Depths. "You continually surprise me."
Then the Dark Lord stole a look at Yulenth. "Lah'ugh'gloth may be shocking at first, but he is my oldest friend. Did he tell you that? He loves company, when he doesn't eat it." Deifol Hroth laughed a chilling laugh.
The Lord of Lightning appeared to be a handsome, sandy blonde haired, young human man, no more than twenty-three winters old. He was slim and tall, but the feelings of evil that radiated strongly from his aura were nauseating, almost like a smell that you couldn't quite identify.
"He's very mad," Deifol Hroth said as he let his arm drop from Yulenth's shoulders, and led the two humans up the stairs. "He is an old demon. I have known him since forever. But, he is quite mad. Do be careful if you visit him again."
Deifol Hroth turned to stare directl
y at Yulenth, who looked down in shame, but did not answer. The Dark One turned and continued leading up the levels to his tower.
"I would never take your gold," Desprege suddenly said.
"Of course you would," Deifol Hroth laughed. "And you would add it to the hoard you have hidden in the Weald. How did you amass such a treasure, Desprege?" Deifol Hroth asked over his shoulder without turning.
"I- I once led a great religion," Desprege stammered, red faced for being so easily exposed.
"Ah, religion," Deifol Hroth sighed. "Nothing takes a human farther from the Great Parent. What happened to all the wonderful religions that used to crawl upon the land and feed upon humanity like maggots?"
"Your war," Yulenth answered. "When the garonds invaded, it became more prudent to fight or flee than to attend a church."
"But that is when you need religion the most," Deifol Hroth contemptuously laughed.
The three began to ascend the stone, spiral staircase that wound up through the central tower of the citadel, to the highest level, to Deifol Hroth's personal chamber. Garond guards snapped to attention whenever the Dark One passed by.
They came to the door that led to Deifol Hroth's private chamber at the top of the tower. The Dark Lord suddenly turned and scrutinized Yulenth.
"Do you want to know what he's thinking?" Deifol Hroth asked.
"Y- yes," Desprege stammered.
"Yulenth is committing to memory the design of my citadel," Deifol Hroth slowly said. "He does that quite often. I dare say he knows the layout of my citadel better than I. Now why would he want so desperately to know this thing?" Without waiting for an answer or speculation, the Lord of Lightning turned and entered his chamber. Desprege and Yulenth followed.
As they entered the sparsely furnished room, Deifol Hroth suddenly grabbed Desprege by the cloak and stared into his eyes. Desprege held very still.
Then, the Dark Lord pushed Desprege away.
"I think you tolerate this human's company," Deifol Hroth said to Yulenth, "because his tiny, buzzing mind drowns out your thoughts."
"No, my Lord," Yulenth said with a smile. "He is important to our cause. His wyrm horn-"
"Yes," Deifol Hroth interrupted, "where is your wyrm horn?" He stared at Desprege, until the fat, little man began to spasmodically, involuntarily twitch.
"The elf-" Desprege spread his quivering hands. "The elf destroyed it."
"Or was it the Archer?" Deifol Hroth flatly asked.
"She made him do it!" Desprege shrieked.
Deifol Hroth was silent.
"Could you have really summoned a wyrm?" Desprege childishly asked. "The elf said they were all gone. She said there aren't any more wyrms."
"There are other things," Deifol Hroth smiled, "like wyrms. They could be called. The sound could have been followed. The correct sound..."
"Shall I bring the shards of the wyrm horn next time?" Desprege offered.
"What have you to report?" Deifol Hroth asked Yulenth, ignoring Desprege's attempt at ingratiation. The Dark One paced around the empty room. The octagonal chamber had no chairs or other furnishings, except for one table, upon which were only several maps. The room had no ceiling, was open to the sickly blue sky of the late afternoon, and cast deep shadows from the weak light.
"Nothing has changed," Yulenth said in a monotone. "The Archer has gone north to try to find the Lhalíi. The elf is in Lanis for a reason she will not share. Caerlund, the chieftain of the Madrun Hills and Halldora, the Queen of Man are with the elf. The reians remain hiding in the western most parts of their land, and the rest of humanity you can see from your window."
Deifol Hroth moved to one of the small windows of his octagonal chamber at the top of the tower. He stared out as though greatly fascinated.
"Yes," Deifol Hroth muttered as he gazed out at the human tribes encamped below on the edges of the plain near the River Syrenf that wound through the flat land.
"Too frightened to attack," Deifol Hroth softly said to himself, "and too leaderless to flee. But you've left out Ronenth and the human women in the Far Grasslands." Deifol Hroth turned to fix Yulenth with a penetrating stare. "You don't want to tell me about the only other glaf, the dark haired boy with the elvish weapon who has gone to the Far Grasslands to rescue the red haired Princess of Man, Frea?"
"It must have slipped my mind, my lord," Yulenth apologized.
"Slipped his mind," Deifol Hroth said to Desprege with a snort. "Do you want to know what is on the glaf's mind when he isn't memorizing the floor plan of my citadel? Nothing. He guards his thoughts very carefully around me. I catch snippets of song. Does Yulenth sing?" The Dark One asked Desprege, who vacantly stared in answer.
"I liked Stavolebe better," Deifol Hroth sneered at Yulenth. "He was so eager to learn from me, so eager to take from me." Deifol Hroth laughed a little laugh. "He wanted to be me. But you..." Deifol Hroth stared at Yulenth until he shifted with discomfort.
"And what did you get from Stavolebe?" Yulenth challenged, finding his courage. "Abject failure."
The Dark Lord of All Evil Magic imperiously strode across the room to stare directly into Yulenth's eyes, his face nearly touching Yulenth's face.
"I could destroy you with a gesture."
"I know, lord."
"I could rip your soul from your body and torment it for eternity."
"I am sure of it, lord."
Deifol Hroth lightly shook his head.
"I don't know whether to annihilate you, or cherish you, Yulenth of Glafemen," Deifol Hroth smiled. "Perhaps that is why I let you live. You of all humans perplex me. I actually derive a sense of pleasure trying to comprehend your devious mind."
Deifol Hroth turned to Desprege.
"Lord Desprege," Deifol Hroth smiled pleasantly. "I want you to watch this man very carefully. Report to me everything he says and does. He's tricky and slippery, always trying to fathom what he has no right to understand. Will you do that for me?"
Desprege nodded with a stupid, vacant look on his face.
"He says you wish to bring the second moon, the Wanderer, down on us," Desprege blurted out, trying to curry favor.
Yulenth gritted his teeth.
Deifol Hroth put an arm around Desprege's shoulders and looked over at Yulenth with mock contempt. "He's right," Deifol Hroth conspiratorially whispered to Lord Desprege with a smile. "That is what I tricked Stavolebe into attempting. You see, you put the Sun Sword and the Moon Sword together. My War General Ravensdred has them in the Far Grasslands."
Yulenth stiffened at the revelation, and fought to control his emotions and thoughts.
"Then all I need do is find the Lhalíi," Deifol Hroth continued. "And, I pop it on the end of the Sun Sword." Deifol Hroth mimed putting the crystal on the Sun Sword. "Then, the stone the human woman, Wynnfrith, has locks it down."
Yulenth swallowed with the mention of the Ar. He had seen it in the Far Grasslands, before he was brought back by Deifol Hroth's garonds. It was the missing piece, the key to controlling the assemblage of magical objects of power. Yulenth nearly jumped when he suddenly realized the Evil One was watching him intently.
"What will it do?" Desprege asked like a little child.
Deifol Hroth relaxed and smiled a smile that made both Desprege and Yulenth sick to their stomachs with the stench of evil that radiated from the Dark Lord.
"What will it do?" Deifol Hroth whispered from between vicious, grinning teeth. "It will end all things."
Deifol Hroth let go of Desprege and moved about his chamber as if dancing to happy music only he could hear, as he contemplated the deaths of all living things on earth.
"And then my lover can come through. And then... Would you like to meet her?" Deifol Hroth fixed Desprege with a curious smile.
Yulenth tried to warn Desprege by subtly flashing his eyes.
"Y- yes," Desprege stammered.
"She sent the smaller moon to us," Deifol Hroth spread his arms wide. High above the roofless room, the Wanderer coul
d be seen, a scar of misshapen pale white against the fading, darkening blue of the closing evening.
A sharp rap on the door shook the Dark One out of his reverie. He gestured and the door flew open by itself to reveal a garond captain who groveled and begged entrance.
"What is it?" The Evil One demanded.
The garond pointed up to the high edge of the room's wall.
"Oh," Deifol Hroth said with perverse pleasure. "We have a guest. Come to us, Klaaug," the Dark Lord called up to the open perimeter of the chamber.
A slimy, horse headed beast peeked over the edge. The vyreeoten had crawled up the outside of the tower, impervious to the scorching heat of the black bricks.
"Oh, Eann!" Desprege exclaimed.
Deifol Hroth turned to enjoy the expressions of horror on the human's face as the large, yellow vyreeoten squashed over the edge of the roofless room, and landed with a wet splat on the flagstones. Its bulk took up half the chamber. It bore an old scar on its head from a fight long ago. The scar looked as though it might have been made by the fangs of a wolf.
Deifol Hroth walked to the disgusting serpent and ran his hand over its mucus-filmed skin.
"What news?" Deifol Hroth asked the vyreeoten.
"Maaany of myyy broooothers areee kiiilled in Reeeeia," the yellow vyreeoten angrily buzzed through the disgusting little insect-like arms that worked in its dripping mouth. "Theeey fiiight wiiith woood aaaand stooones liiike iiiice."
"So they have learned how to kill your kind," Deifol Hroth sniffed. "No matter. Your mother will just send more," the Dark One smiled. "I was just about to show our guests your mother," Deifol Hroth purred to the strange sea serpent, as he ran his hand back and forth, through the slime covering the huge creature.
The Dark Lord peered into the vyreeoten's massive eye. Klaaug held very still.
"In unnatural water, the way is opened," Deifol Hroth said. "The eye is filled with water." He closed his eyes and raised his hands. His breathing was heavy.
"Poagnah haleekala. Poagnah floqurahinne," Deifol Hroth murmured to the vyreeoten's huge black pupil. "Thillina Mahanaa Eegreth Ininifvir aillngrah poagnah. Poagnah."