The Halls of the Fallen King

by Tiger Hebert

  “Better than being old and foolish,” noted Nal’drin.

  “You are very right,” she said with a smile.

  Nal’drin went to speak but then something caught his attention. He realized he had been stroking her hand with his thumb. He hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it. It’s not that he minded it at all, but he felt like a fool all the same. He stopped abruptly.

  You bumbling idiot, he thought. You can’t just hold her hand, can you? You gotta go ahead and go overboard and ruin everything!

  “You were saying?” asked Kiriana as she tried to make eye contact with him, a half confused look on her face.

  “What? Oh... I... forgot what I was going to say,” he said as he gave a sheepish smile.

  “Does that happen often?” teased Kiriana. Her thumb moved slowly as she traced the back of his hand.

  His mouth answered faster than his mind would have liked, “Only when I find myself distracted in such a way.”

  “Oh, and what kind of distraction is that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “The best kind,” said Nal’drin, his face three shades of red.

  “And you find these... distractions quite frequently,” asked Kiriana, her words seasoned with implications.

  Nal’drin’s already rose colored face grew darker. “No, just the one.”

  Kiriana only allowed the smallest hint of a smile to grace her lips, but behind her wall of self-control, she beamed. She was about to take the conversation further, then she thought better of it. Let’s not rush this.

  “You know,” she said, “one of my biggest regrets is that not only am I directly responsible for the deaths of those I cared for, but the mark got away.”

  “Oh, that’s brutal,” said Nal’drin with a sympathetic cringe. “By the way, who was the mark?

  “High Priest Ekrin.”

  “You mean you were to assassinate the shadow drake’s high priest?”

  “It was back before the war began, but our spies had given us good intel on the storm that was brewing in Karthusa. We knew it wouldn’t have stopped Slayvin’s plans, but it should have complicated matters for him, giving us more time,” said Kiriana as she examined some of her split ends in annoyance.

  Nal’drin gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I can see why you keep having nightmares about it.”

  “Have you been keeping tabs on me?” she said with a sly grin.

  “No... yes... well...,” he stammered, “I’m always up at this time. I have never seen two people with sleep as disturbed as you and the big ox over there. It’s crazy. But I’m not being creepy or anything, it’s just I wake up earlier than all of you.”

  Kiriana laughed at the last remark, but then she followed his gaze as it fell upon Theros, who slept on the other side of the room. He hadn’t stirred since he passed out in the street. “It happens to him a lot?”

  “More than any of us,” he answered with a frown. “I don’t fully know what haunts his sleep, but the poor soul is tormented every night. It isn’t uncommon for me to find him already up when I wake. This is actually the first night he’s slept uninterrupted.”

  “He must be exhausted,” said Kiriana.

  “More than we could know,” said Nal’drin with a slow nod.

  Kiriana returned her gaze to the handsome young man’s face. She continued to stroke the back of his hand with her thumb, and she told him the new dream. She shared every detail, as if it were forever burned into her mind. He remained quiet as he listened intently. He watched her fiddle with her hair, and he watched her rest her hand in his, and Nal’drin smiled.

  THEROS’ HEAD THROBBED. It wasn’t one of those dull aching headaches, either, it was a stabbing pain driving into the back of his eye sockets.

  “Ughh.”

  “He’s awake,” announced Kiriana.

  Theros tried to open his eyes, but the pain caused him to scrunch up his face.

  “Give him a moment,” said Dom.

  “I’m gonna be s—” The orc rolled to his side and puked.

  “Not on my sword,” protested Nal’drin. “Ugh, gross.”

  Theros spit, trying to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. The headache’s biting edge softened. He squinted, letting in the first traces of blue light. The pain lessened further, and then it was nothing more than a dull ache. The nauseating smell hit him. The orc opened his eyes. He saw the mess before him, and he puked again.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” cried Nal’drin.

  Theros spit again, wiped his mouth, and sat up. “Sorry about that.”

  Nal’drin scowled at him. “You’re cleaning that.”

  Theros answered with a nod and a grunt.

  Nal’drin said, “After you rinse your mouth out, drink this. It’ll help with the headache and the nausea.”

  Theros accepted the mug.

  “It’s some tea my mother used to brew.”

  Kiriana asked, “What’s in it?”

  “Can’t tell, family secret,” replied Nal’drin. “Kidding, just green tea with peppermint.”

  Kiriana frowned. “Must taste awful.”

  “Yep,” said Theros after swallowing some down. “Okay, let me clean up this mess. Then someone will need to tell me what the hell happened.”

  He watched as they all exchanged uneasy glances. He shook his head, and got up to begin the cleanup. Not wanting to venture too far, he opted to use some of his drinking water to help clean up the mess he’d made on the floor and Nal’drin’s sword.

  “That should do it.”

  “Thanks.” Nal’drin took the sword.

  “Okay, I did my part, now spill it. What happened last night?”

  Dominar stepped toward his friend. “What do you remember?”

  Theros rubbed his bare scalp. “I don’t remember much. Other than this feeling of... of anger, no... rage. Then I woke up this morning feeling like an axe is buried in my forehead.”

  Dom frowned as concern washed over his face. “You stepped outside last night, presumably to find Sharka. Then—”

  “Then you found me, but you blacked out,” interrupted Sharka.

  Dom raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  “I just blacked out?”

  “Yes,” was her quick reply.

  “That’s never happened to me before, there’s gotta be more to it than that... I remember the rage.”

  Dom looked from Sharka back to Theros. “You seemed upset about something, but then you fell out.”

  Nal’drin cut in. “Do you have any idea how heavy you are? Be glad we didn’t leave you in the street.”

  Theros grunted in amusement.

  “Probably close to thirty stone,” guessed Kiriana.

  Nal’drin nodded, “It did take all four of us to move you, so let’s not do that again.”

  Theros scratched at the hairs on his chin, where the braid hung from. “What aren’t you guys telling me?”

  Kiriana said, “We don’t know. We’ve all been under incredible stress. This journey hasn’t been easy, and yesterday I’m pretty sure we all thought we were going to die. It’s a lot to handle, and we all know you haven’t slept in a month. It was probably just too much.”

  He furrowed his brow. “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, maybe now that you’ve got some rest. As unpleasant as your little fainting act may have been, this is the first night that you’ve actually slept since I’ve known you. And we met in Jasprita what, four months ago?” remarked Nal’drin.

  Theros grunted.

  “Hey, big guy, how about we get a look at that prize you secured yesterday,” said Nal’drin.

  The women perked up at that comment, sharing curious looks.

  The light of realization shined in Theros’ eyes. “Oh, I completely forgot.”

  “What is it?” asked Sharka.

  Theros reached down and grabbed his small leather pouch from the ground. He opened it and pulled out the large amethyst. The gem rhythmically pulsed with faint violet light
. The gem was met with wonder and excitement.

  “Is it really an Elder Stone?” asked Kiriana.

  “It is,” said Theros as he held the stone out for all to see.

  “Where did it come from?” asked Sharka.

  “Duroc placed it in a place he thought was secure,” said Dom.

  Theros added, “Yeah, inside Krom Krom.”

  “It’s... stunning,” marveled Kiriana.

  “And dangerous, it’s best we put it away for now,” warned Dominar.

  Theros nodded in agreement and slid the jewel back inside the satchel for safe keeping.

  Dominar said, “Well, as you always say, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover today. So let’s get camp packed up and get moving. We’ve got a king to find.”

  While the others began to pack up, Theros reached out toward Sharka. She flinched. It wasn’t drastic, but it was definitely a flinch. She looked him in the eye only briefly, then looked away.

  “Sharka—”

  “I need some time,” said Sharka as she threw her pack on.

  Puzzled, he said, “I... I don’t—”, and then she was gone.

  Theros looked around the library. The other three were busy packing. He felt the not so subtle tug of anger. What the hell!

  Kiriana closed up her pack, tossed it over one should, and was out the door. Nal’drin and Dom wouldn’t be too far behind her.

  I better get moving, thought Theros. Then he began to pack.

  Kiriana joined Sharka outside on the street. “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

  Sharka lifted her head, her red eyes meeting Kiriana’s. “If he knew that he raised his hand to me, it would destroy him.”

  “Sharka, this is serious. He was out of control when he lashed out at you.”

  “He didn’t do anything.”

  “Because we were there,” said Kiriana.

  Sharka turned to Kiriana and forced a tearful smile. “Kiri, dear, I’ve seen abusers. I lived with one most of my life. I saw my mother make every excuse in the world for my father, right after he’d beaten her. She couldn’t do anything right in his eyes, so he beat her, and he beat her, and he beat her until the day that I was old enough, and brave enough to threaten to bury my daggers in his chest. Only then did that coward stop laying his hands on her.”

  Kiriana reached out and squeezed Sharka’s hand. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

  Sharka sniffled and wiped her tears away. “Kiri, Theros is in the middle of a war right now. He is being pulled in every different direction, and it’s tearing him apart. I know he is not himself, but he is a good man.”

  Kiriana nodded. “Sharka, can you make me one promise?”

  “Which is?”

  Kiriana squeezed Sharka’s hand again. “Can you promise me that you’ll be honest with yourself, and not confuse the man he was with the man he is?”

  The guys started to exit the library and make their way down the ramp.

  Sharka looked to them before turning back to Kiriana. She gave Kiriana’s hand a gentle squeeze and smiled her fake smile once more.

  Theros emerged from the library last, with his hammers hanging from his belt, and the massive draconic axe in his left hand.

  “Let’s go find this king.”

  17

  Audience with the King

  By god, I’ve found it! It is not in my possession yet, but I have found it. Here in the bowels of this dreadful city I have found a hidden alcove. The Qarii showed me the way. Below the burning sands lies an aqueduct that was put out of service when the new one was commissioned some eighty years ago. These thought-to-be abandoned tunnels house a secret library. I was accosted by several priestly looking Togari when I found their trove; my, they are more wretched in appearance than I could have imagined. Scales cover much more of their bodies than any thing I’d read about, and those eyes. They are cold and cunning. I thought they’d kill me then and there, but I cried out for Ascendance. They were seemingly taken aback. They un-handed me. Their distrusting gazes remained as they questioned me, but all I could tell them was that the Qarii led me here. They laughed, I guess because that is how they got there too. They have granted me the privilege of staying and studying under them. They promise that when I am ready, I will be granted access to the ancient tome... and so much more.

  From the personal journal of Duroc Stonebrow

  THE FIVE MADE THEIR way through the streets until at last they had reached the palace. The demolished gatehouse and outer wall lay before them. Broken and splintered wood was scattered about in the midst of the stones that lay strewn about the ground. Looking through the gaping hole in what was once a defensive fortification, they saw a massive rock mound in the middle of the courtyard.

  “He really didn’t like guests,” quipped Nal’drin with amusement.

  Theros grunted a half-laugh. “Nope.”

  Kiriana and Sharka’s eyes grew wide as they examined the fallen giant’s remains. It was hard for them to believe that their companion, their friend, had struck him down. Both of their eyes lingered upon Krom Krom’s remains as they passed him.

  “Careful ladies,” cautioned Dom.

  They responded to him and turned in time to avoid tripping up the stairs. Theros led the way up into the familiar entryway of the palace. He pushed the doors open. Like the library, the palace offered a striking contrast in architectural styles. Whereas nearly every other inch of the massive subterranean kingdom offered the traditional dwarven architecture, the palace was quite different. The palace interior boasted an array of arches of pristine, metallic white panarel stone held the ceiling high above. The walls below the arches were made of some foreign stone, one that not even Dom was familiar with. Its naturally rugged, unrefined texture and color boasted a gray surface full of dark ridges, and black root-like veins that seemed to stretch downward into the polished black marble floor. The architecture came together to form quite a statement: one of grandeur, one of opulence.

  “Oh my,” said Kiriana, her jaw falling open. “Have you ever seen a building so... beautiful?”

  “I’ve no words to describe it,” said Dom.

  “But it is so... un-dwarven,” said Nal’drin.

  Sharka agreed. “Yeah, it seems out of place down here.”

  Dominar said, “Dwarves are capable of building anything!”

  “Of course they are,” said Nal’drin. “But why is the king’s own palace so untraditional?”

  “Maybe he just wanted the palace to stand out?” suggested Kiriana.

  “Mission accomplished,” said Sharka as she marveled at the beautiful craftsmanship of the arches in particular.

  As usual, Nal’drin grew uncomfortable with the brief silence that ensued. “So, shouldn’t we have some plan in place about how this is going to go down? I mean, I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t brushed up on my how-to-deal-with-a-mad-sorcerer-king training recently.”

  He drew a laugh out of the group.

  Theros thought for a moment, then he spoke. “I don’t think Duroc’s mad. He’s done nothing but aid us thus far, and so far his story checks out.”

  “I don’t know, it all just seems to be coming together a little too easily,” said Nal’drin revealing his doubts.

  “The prophecies, Aneri’On, and the black dragon’s death all came together too,” said Theros.

  “It’s a fair point. Speaking of which, where is Aneri’On?” asked Dom as he turned to Theros.

  Theros didn’t return his friend’s glance. His voice became soft and he simply said, “I don’t know.”

  “Aneri’On does have a way of showing up at just the right time,” admitted Kiriana.

  She was cold and dying that day, and the Frelsarine saved her. He had given her a second chance at life. Nal’drin watched her brush away silent tears. He reached out and held her hand in his. She sent a smile his way, gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and let go.

  “You know, you’re right, Kiriana. He has shown a pecu
liar tendency to arrive just when he is needed, but I don’t know. I think there is more to it than that, there has to be more than that,” mused Dominar.

  Theros stopped walking and turned to his friend with a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

  The interest in Theros’ eyes was genuine, Dom could see it. He smiled and said, “I don’t know. I just feel that we’ve missed something. I don’t think he came just to win the war and to save us from the dragon. If he had, why’d he bother showing himself to us after he was gone?”

  “You’re right Dom. What is it we’re missing?” asked Sharka.

  The expectant eyes of the four turned to Dominar. He’d felt a mounting pressure for days, a pressure of the expectation that he had some secret understanding or wise insights to offer. He felt that pressure grow even now as their questioning gazes lingered on him. His face turned red in embarrassment and frustration, because he had none.

  “I don’t know. I just think that there is more... yes, he has aided us in our time of need, but I think he wants us to learn a different way, one that relies on us taking action, but trusting at the same time.”

  “We are taking action,” said Theros as he held the massive battle axe before them.

  Dominar looked at the weapon. It made him uneasy. What’s wrong with the hammers I’ve made you? His countenance grew downcast at the thoughts.

  “Dom, what’s wrong?” asked Kiriana with a nudge.

  “Oh nothing, dear, I’m just an old man with tired legs,” lied Dom with a smile.

  Kiriana hadn’t known the dwarf for long. She first met him during the battle of Tempour, just a handful of months before, so she didn’t have a lot to go on, but she sensed that he was hiding something. Even though she knew he wasn’t being truthful with her, she still couldn’t help but trust him. There was something about him. It was wise, and it was gentle, and it was protective. It was foreign to her, but she trusted it, so she just smiled back at him.

  Nal’drin sighed in annoyance. When no one responded to him, he made sure to do it again, louder.

  Theros rolled his neck, releasing a series of loud cracks, and then he clenched his jaw. “What is it, Nal’drin?” he asked with a growl.