by Tiger Hebert
Theros gasped and his eyes grew wide. He moved to grab the axe.
“Don’t interfere!” warned Duroc with a bark. “He is in a fragile state, let the magic heal him!”
It went against every urge within him, but Theros held fast as the magical essence smothered his friend’s face. Clap! The blast from the surge of magic reverberated through the king’s sanctum like a thunderclap. The unexpected blast startled the big orc, causing him to nearly fall over. Then he heard a familiar sound, a welcomed sound. He heard the voice of his friend.
“Ughh, where am I?” asked the groggy dwarf.
The green mists had already faded by the time his eyes were open, and Duroc’s ghostly form was bent low from the exhaustion, but it had worked. Dominar was awake.
Theros rushed to Dom’s side. “We are in Duroc’s sanctum.”
Dominar turned toward Theros, but found it difficult to see. He blinked rapidly as he tried to force his eyes to focus. Slowly that familiar gray face and those big blue eyes came into partial focus. It was a face he knew, a face of a friend, and it was a face full of worry.
“Theros, what’s going on?” Dom struggled to ask with his weakened voice.
Theros reached out and took Dom’s hand, carefully negotiated his words and said, “You took bad blow to the head, you were... out for a while.”
“Is everyone else okay?” asked Dom with a hoarse whisper.
“Everyone is fine,” said Theros in a soft, reassuring tone. “The goblin presence has grown though, so the girls ran a scouting mission.”
“Oh,” said Dom, his brow furrowed as he tried to sort through his jumbled thoughts. “How long was I out?”
“Only about a day, but a lot has happened.”
“Bring me up to speed,” said Dominar.
“We don’t want to over-do it, so I’ll just give you the key items. We have possession of four Elder Stones. We believe the goblin king has the fifth, and he is coming for the rest,” said Theros.
Dom didn’t say anything. Instead he nodded slowly to show that he was following along, but the glazed over look in his eyes suggested that it was probably too much for him. He rubbed his head gingerly.
Theros asked, “You okay?”
The confusion was apparent on Dom’s face, and he answered, “I... I don’t know. Everything is fuzzy... My thoughts... my memories are all muddled and everything seems... off. It’s that feeling you get when you have déjà vu, about having déjà vu. Like I’m stuck in a waking dream... It’s a strange thing. Theros, what the heck happened to me?”
Theros found more than concern in his friend’s eyes. He found fear. It wasn’t something he had seen very often, but there was no mistaking its presence now.
The big orc squeezed Dom’s hand, gave him a smile, and said, “Let’s get you something to eat and to drink, and more rest.”
“Okay, but can you answer me one thing first?” asked Dom.
“What’s that?”
Dom asked, “Who are the girls?”
21
The Promise of Power
Today I finally got a true taste of the power that has wooed me, a taste of the Qarii. My fingers and the palms of my hands were scorched and blistered by the heat of the blast. I will recover. As will the poor Togari scholar who took the brunt of the discharge. The arcing blast of energy that exploded from the palms of my hands, though, was—divine.
Only now am I beginning to understand the Qarii. I am beginning to see them for who they are. Yes, who they are. The Qarii is not simply some form of matter, but rather a living entity, or at least an extension of one. They don’t speak to me, at least not yet, but they do respond to my commands.
My studies have been fruitful. I have learned much from the Togari—well the ones that will still come near me, that poor fellow that I blasted does keep a safe distance—but the others share their knowledge quite freely, they are quite excited to share what they have uncovered.
Between them and Ascendance I have learned more about the Qarim and Qarii, and so much more. The words Qarii and Qarim are from an ancient language known as Anunakis. The people of Aurion have generally forgotten Anunakis, as the people who once spoke the language, the Anunaki, are long gone. But their words have great meaning. Qarim means dark light, while Qarii is in essence the past tense derivative of the same. I ponder the meaning.
From the personal journal of Duroc Stonebrow
NAL’DRIN STIRRED HIS bowl of stew with disinterest, his frown deepening. “So he has no idea who we are?”
“It seems his short-term memory is the issue, because he remembered ol’ Hammerfist,” said Duroc as he pointed an insubstantial finger towards the orc.
“Will he recover?” asked Nal’drin, his voice carrying the weight of anxiety.
“Perhaps, perhaps not. As I’ve said before, once I am able to drawn upon all of my power, I can unscramble his egg,” said Duroc.
“I don’t understand. You keep saying that you can’t access all your power. What’s that all about?” asked Nal’drin before finally slurping up the last contents of his bowl.
Duroc appreciated the change of subject and nodded his approval. “Very good, so let’s cover a few of the basics shall we? A mage, or sorcerer, whichever you prefer, is someone who is trained in the art of drawing upon, and then manipulating the Qarii. The Qarii are powerful and wild forces that inhabit our world, but once mastered, they become an extension of your will.”
“I get that... I think, but why are you so limited?” asked the ever-impetuous young king.
“Not one for patience, eh?” remarked the King with a sarcastic tone. “There are finite limitations for each and every sorc... let’s just call them mages, it’s shorter. So each mage has limitations regarding his ability to draw and command the Qarii.”
“Oh, so without your body you are more limited?” guessed Nal’drin.
“No.”
“Oh, I see, it’s because you were imprisoned so long that you are weakened,” guessed Nal’drin.
“No.”
“Ah, it’s because you used up all your power to melt some faces!” said Nal’drin, excited to finally have guessed the right answer.
“Are you just gonna talk, or do you actually want to learn something?” snapped Duroc, giving the youth a sour look.
Nal’drin slunk down a bit and gave a sheepish apology.
“As I was saying, a mage is limited in his ability to draw and then command the Qarii. However, there are... methods of minimizing those limitations,” said Duroc.
“The Elder Stones!”
Duroc’s expression fell flat with annoyance. “You’re doing it again.”
“Sorry.”
“Yes, the Elder Stones are one method of reducing the limitations. In my current state, I am bound to that axe and subsequently the Elder Stone within it. Therefore I have access to a single stone. This gives more power than I might otherwise have. However, I am still cut off from any other stones in this state,” said Duroc as he eyed his student to make sure he was following along. Then he continued, “Once I am free, I will have access to several stones, but that is not all.”
Nal’drin was hesitant to speak, but it was clear that his teacher had baited him, so he obliged, “So what else is there?”
“Oh, I’m so glad you asked,” replied Duroc. “If you remember back to the other day, I had mentioned alcoves. Do you remember that?”
“Isn’t that where your body is hidden?” asked Nal’drin.
Duroc smiled at the student and said, “Very good, you were listening. Yes, my body is locked inside an alcove. However, alcoves can be used to store many things, including power. I have a few alcoves that have been locked away for many years.”
“Why can’t you just access them now?”
“I could open them now, but you can’t just open them. You need to open them in a controlled fashion, only extracting what you need. Otherwise the potential energy that is stored within the vault will come rushing out,”
said Duroc.
“So you’d lose everything you stored up,” said Nal’drin.
“Well, yes, but it’s a lot more dangerous than that,” said Duroc.
“Why?” asked Nal’drin.
“Let’s imagine you had a great river stopped up by a massive dam. The water that is trapped behind the dam is ready to flow, it wants to flow as the force of gravity pulls on it. This means that the trapped water, though it is not in motion, is still is a source of what you call potential energy. If a dam is well engineered and maintained, the operators could carefully release controlled amounts of water to manage the water levels, however, a crack in the dam would produce an uncontrolled release of the water,” explained Duroc.
Nal’drin replied, “It would be disastrous.”
“Indeed.”
“You said potential energy, what’s that?”
“Uh, that’s another lesson for another day.”
“I’ve never even heard of it.”
Duroc smiled. “There are more advanced societies than our own, my boy. If we get through all of this, maybe you’d like to see them someday?”
“Sure!”
“Anyway, we’re getting off track.”
Nal’drin scratched his nose as he pondered the explanation for a moment. “Okay, so how do you control the flow of magic?”
“The Elder Stones. Once I am freed of this prison, I can use the stones to access my alcoves, and I can restore your friend’s mind. Until then, we will just have to wait,” answered the ghost king.
“So... does that mean that you have to wait till you are restored to teach me some of that stuff?” asked Nal’drin.
The young king thought he saw a twinkle in the ghost king’s eye.
Duroc grinned and said, “Nope.”
“So when can we start?” asked Nal’drin.
“Now’s a good time,” said Duroc with a gesture. “Follow me.”
Theros observed the conversation but said nothing. Instead he simply shook his head in disagreement, and perhaps disappointment. He didn’t like the idea of Duroc taking the youth under his sorcerous wing, but it was hard to argue with anything that made the members of his team more capable. As he weighed the options, he was alerted to a noise behind him. The orc snatched up the axe and spun to find a fat little goblin wobbling into the room. Theros lifted the axe and roared as he charged.
“Wait, Theros, wait!” shouted a familiar female voice before the fiery haired woman jumped around the goblin and waved him off.
The massive orc had taken several more steps before processing what was going on. He halted his advance and lowered his weapon, but his body heaved with the lust for battle as he eyed a sworn enemy, a goblin.
“We brought you a present,” said Kiriana with a haughty smirk.
“I don’t want it,” said Theros with a glare and a growl.
“It was an opportunity that we couldn’t pass up,” she insisted.
“If he’s not dead, he’s no use to us,” said Theros.
Sharka spoke up, “Listen, I didn’t like it either, but he knows the goblin king’s plans, and he said he can help us.”
“He’s a goblin, he will betray us at the first chance,” snapped Theros.
Sharka was unimpressed. “That’s funny, that sounds awful familiar.”
The creases on the orc’s brow grew deeper as he scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“Wasn’t there a human that said that about us not too long ago?”
The big orc shot her a knowing look from under a furrowed brow. She was right of course, but he didn’t have to like it. He remembered the orcs’ predicament that day, having been driven from their home. The black dragon’s army was on their heels, and he had sought refuge for his people. He remembered being at Ogron’s side. He remembered their desperation, he remembered meeting Nikolai, the prince of Storm Vale, and he remembered the prince’s cold judgement. He remembered it all.
“As you can see, we have our own troubles. We cut them down, but we still suffered too many losses. Because of this, the kingdom of Storm Vale will not be offered as a refuge for your kind,” stated Nikolai coldly before he started to turn away.
“What? You would dismiss us just like that?” asked Ogron incredulously.
“I am sorry for your plight. Good luck,” quipped the captain insincerely.
“We were told to meet someone here. We led our entire caravan of people up here, for you just to turn us away without any discussion or consideration?” snapped the chieftain.
“It has been considered. Whatever fate you are fleeing from is not our problem. You will have to face it yourselves,” replied Nikolai sharply.
“Can you just grant us a few days? Just enough to recover our strength for the next journey,” pleaded Ogron in desperation.
“As long as you remain outside of our walls, I don’t care what you do. Know this, I will not be held responsible for the actions of my men as it pertains to your kind,” disclosed the captain as he looked down upon the orcs.
“What are you saying, human?” growled Theros through clenched teeth.
“Oooh, so you can speak too? It matters not. The point remains, I know your kind. Greenskins are bloodthirsty, savage brutes, the likes of which cannot be trusted, and you two aren’t even green, so you are probably the worst of the whole lot. Be warned, my men will protect themselves and this land by any means necessary,” hissed Nikolai.
“A fool’s tongue often ties a noose about his own neck,” recited Ogron as he slowly backed away from the captain, contemptuous glare intact.
“Let’s not prove his argument for him, big brother,” cautioned Theros as he patted Ogron’s back.
Theros sighed, nodded, and turned toward the goblin and asked, “You got a name?”
The goblin wrung his hands and his eyes darted around before he stammered out his name.
“So Glemigk,” said Theros, placing so much emphasis on the goblin’s name that he almost spit. “What are the king’s plans?”
“He come for stones, kill all to get them,” said the nervous goblin.
“What does he know?” asked Theros as he examined the fidgeting informant.
“He know you here. He know dead king here. He know stones here,” said Glemigk.
“Where is your king now?” asked Theros.
“Place with lake. He come here soon,” said Glemigk.
“How big is his army?” Theros asked.
The goblin’s only answer was a look of confusion as he shifted nervously, then he looked back at his captors. Theros watched him squirm for a moment, then rephrased the question.
“How many goblins?”
“Them all come,” answered the goblin with a new shot of confidence.
Theros asked again, “How many?”
“Big many swarms, big, big many,” said the goblin with a series of quick hand gestures.
“Can you give us a number?” asked Theros, trying to keep his tone steady.
Glemigk looked back and forth between Theros and the others, but he offered nothing but a hesitant grunt and a blank stare.
Kiriana said, “Maybe he can’t count?”
“Is it that you can’t tell us or that you won’t tell us how many?” asked Theros, only confusing the goblin further.
Glemigk shuffled his feet and fidgeted again, but he couldn’t maintain eye contact with Theros. The goblin was quiet for a moment and then he finally said, “big many swarm, all come.”
“I’m gonna need more than that Glemigk. Can you count? You know one two three,” asked Theros as he pointed to his fingers as he counted.
Glemigk’s clueless expression faded and his face lit up with excitement. His eyes grew wide and he nodded like an eager child, “Yes, Glemigk count!”
Theros nodded and waited as the goblin began to silently count. The strange little greenskin had a peculiar method of counting though, first counting three fingers on one hand, then three fingers on the other hand. Then he stopped and lif
ted his eyes toward the ceiling as if he were expecting some answer to magically descend from the heavens. Glemigk then smiled and nodded as he counted three fingers on his right hand, then three fingers on his left hand. His eyes lifted upward again for a moment and he mouthed a few silent words, and he returned to his fingers. Theros watched intently as he studied the goblin’s odd behavior.
Glemigk finished counting six of his fingers for a third time, then he squeezed his eyes closed tightly and shook his head from side to side. Glemigk opened his eyes and looked to Theros and said, “Big many swarms come!”
Theros’ head dropped, partially out of disappointment and partially out of frustration. Did he really expect a goblin to have anything to offer?
Glemigk saw the disappointment in the orc’s face and the child-like grin vanished from his wart-speckled face. The goblin slouched and hung his head in shame.
“Glemigk,” called out a gentle feminine voice.
The goblin lifted his head and turned toward his captors, and saw the pale face of the woman who called his name. “Yes?”
“Will you help us stop the king?” asked Kiriana in a non-threatening voice and an easy smile.
Glemigk was eager to answer with an affirmative nod.
“Then what can you do to help?” she asked with a wink.
“Glemigk know king’s plan,” said the goblin.
“What would happen to the goblins if we killed the king?” asked Theros.
“Goblins fight. Strongest make king,” said Glemigk with a sense of pride.
“Who would win, who’s the strongest?” asked Theros.
“Groktai strongest!” said Glemigk with no hesitation.
“What is he like?” asked Theros.
“He not like, Groktai is she, she strongest,” he said with reaffirming nod.
“Why is she the strongest?” asked Sharka.
“She’s witch,” said Glemigk with fear in his eyes. “Put bad magics on you!”
“Are there others like her?” asked Kiriana.
Glemigk pursed his cracked lips as he thought about it for a moment, and then he said, “Not much. Some try, but her has the power.”