The Halls of the Fallen King

by Tiger Hebert

  Theros remembered the urge to run or to cower in fear; he remembered the dragon fear. More importantly, he remembered the one who would stand in defiance of the dragon. Aneri’On stood before the dragon undaunted. Did he even feel the dragon fear? Of course he did. But he did not relent. The prophesied warrior king faced the dragon alone, and gave his life to save them. Theros remembered seeing the black dragon being brought down. He remembered the shock, he remembered the tears, and the mourning—and he remembered the lion in his dreams. Hope and proof, from beyond the veil of this temporal reality, that good was alive and good had won. Once this newfound faith had given him hope, even confidence in this, but his dreams had been dark of late.

  Theros heard everything that Dom had just said, and he knew it to be true—probably more than most. He himself knew what it was to have the power of a God surging through him as he protected his friends. He knew what it was to stretch beyond the limits of his body and his consciousness, but he also knew the terror that came when he called upon that power and it didn’t come. And that is where he found himself trapped.

  Theros gazed at the faces of Dominar, Kiriana, Nal’drin, and his Jhano. These people weren’t just partners in a mission, they had become dear to him. They had become close friends. Theros speculated that he might even consider that scoundrel of a dwarf, Duroc, a friend under most circumstances too, if he didn’t betray them or get them killed. No, Theros remembered all that Aneri’On had done for them, for him, and he remembered that power, but he couldn’t place all his trust in a power that didn’t come when he needed it. Theros looked down at his massive axe. He had people to protect.

  “Dom,” said Theros after clearing his throat, “your concerns are valid, my friend. Aneri’On will always be remembered, but the boy’s newfound abilities are welcomed.”

  Dom’s heart crashed. His shoulders slumped in defeat. His saddened eyes seemed to sink down into his frown as disappointment overtook him. “You don’t see it, do you?”

  Theros sighed, then he looked his friend in the eye and said, “Maybe I don’t, and I hope you’ll forgive me for that, old friend. What I do see is an army of thousands, if not tens of thousands, just beyond these walls and they want what we have. It will take everything we have and then some to stop them. I’d welcome Aneri’On’s help—but I don’t think he’s coming back any time soon.”

  Dom hung his head, turned, and walked away from the group.

  “Where are you going?” asked Theros.

  “To pray.”

  Theros watched his friend walk off by himself. He admired Dom’s faith, and they could really use a miracle down here, but Theros needed something more practical. The big fella took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. At least it’s dinnertime, he thought. With that, Theros and the girls joined Nal’drin and Duroc around the campfire, and Dominar prayed.

  24

  Cloaks and Daggers

  Of all creation, my brother found the people of Aurion of particular interest. Yes they were far too easy to manipulate, but it was more than that. They were a people that sought guidance, they sought intervention, but they loved to buck and kick against the reins even more. When he realized that so many of them sought something or someone to worship, his attention shifted. Many of them would have sought audience with him had they known of him, but one people intrigued him above all—the Anunaki.

  The Anunaki were a simple and primitive people from the ancient city of Kinseth. Their medium heights and thick sturdy frames were clear evidence that the entire race had indeed come from the cross breeding with the local dwarf clans, which was far more common than any would admit on those cold and lonely slopes of the Hargismar region. The Anunaki, despite living a rough life in such an inhospitable region, were very spiritual and always looking for signs of the divine. It was easy for my brother to infiltrate them...

  War in the Heavens, Jazren of the Seraphim Order

  KIRIANA PULLED THE laces tight on her boots and then she stood up. She made sure her blades were secured in their sheaths. Then the master slayer turned her attention to her pack where she pulled a leather strap free. She pulled the strap down over one shoulder and down across her chest, revealing a series of short daggers buckled in series. Sharka didn’t have the assassin’s apparel to match. Instead she wore the same type of leathers that she had every other day of their journey and her daggers were at her side. The women were ready.

  “You know the marks, focus on them alone. Get in, get out.” Theros’ uneasy tone matched the nervous look in his eyes.

  “If all things are equal, kill the witch first,” added Duroc.

  Kiriana and Sharka both nodded.

  “Duroc, give them as much time as possible. Don’t hold back anything,” demanded Theros in a voice that invited no rebuttal.

  Duroc shuffled uncomfortably and scowled. “Very well.”

  Duroc recited the spell, placing wards of invisibility on the two women. In seconds they faded from sight as the shroud of magic took them.

  “You have forty minutes, go!” warned Duroc.

  With nods, Sharka and Kiriana took off. In seconds they were dashing through the streets of the Merchant Quarter. Even this far behind the army, the goblin presence was still seen. Kiriana led the way as they snaked through the streets, weaving past unsuspecting enemies. The cloaking ward didn’t keep others from hearing them, but fortunately goblins were loud mouths who were easily distracted, so they advanced with ease.

  It wasn’t long, perhaps fifteen minutes, before they had reached the part of the city that had been turned into what you might call a command post. This one particularly cramped section of town had been all but barricaded off with a variety of makeshift tents as well as tables that had clearly been stripped from the surrounding businesses. This was the place where the war plans were devised. This was the new goblin seat of power.

  Kiriana and Sharka crept slowly as they drew closer to their marks. As they slipped past the camp’s perimeter, they split up.

  Sharka headed out and around the left side of the largest tent in the area, which was unmistakably the king’s tent, and she kept going toward the furthest tent. It was an ugly tent with only brown and gray hides, but it was set as far apart from the others as possible given the narrow confines of the Merchant Quarter. If Sharka had to guess, she’d guess it was the witch’s.

  As Sharka moved toward her destination, Kiriana took great care to avoid the series of roving patrols that seemed to pass the large tent every minute or so. She needed to find a way to get into the tent undetected. The tent only had one opening that faced toward the center of the encampment and she hadn’t seen anyone go in or out. She knew that if she disturbed the tent or the tent flaps in any way, it would draw the attention of the guards. She suspected that a small contingent of guards were probably inside the tent too. No, she had to find a way to slip in without drawing any attention to herself. The real problem though, was that time was running out. By her own count, she had already spent the better part of ten minutes just navigating past the patrols, but she still didn’t have an answer. Kiriana saw that Sharka was in place and poised to strike, but she couldn’t find a way in to her own target, so she crept over to Sharka.

  The redhead whispered, “I need to create a distraction to draw them out. Once they are out, don’t hesitate. Kill and flee.”

  Sharka nodded as Kiriana slipped away toward one of the campfires in the center of camp.

  Kiriana made sure no one was looking, then she pulled a burning log from the fire and rolled it against a nearby tent. She quickly grabbed a second log and did it again to another tent, then she hurried back toward the king’s tent. By the time she had gotten back, both tents had caught fire and goblins began to shout. Ten minutes left, she thought as she counted.

  The commotion created by the tent fires did the trick. The tent flaps were slung open, and a handful of guards rushed out with their weapons drawn. Kiriana took the invitation. She slipped in behind them and ducked int
o the tent before the flaps fell closed.

  Sharka also saw the flaps of her tent fly open and out stepped a plump, half-dressed goblin woman. Sharka pounced, her daggers descending upon the old woman like panther fangs. Her blades tore through the air but found no purchase. The serrated edges of her daggers tore at the illusion. The woman’s incorporeal image turned back toward Sharka and began to cackle. Sharka spun around, and sprinted.

  Inside the long tent, Kiriana was startled to find that the goblin king wasn’t alone. The corpulent king sat atop a makeshift wooden throne, and a fat little woman stood at his side.

  The king’s grin widened and with a deep, guttural voice he said, “Welcome... assassins.”

  Kiriana stood frozen in fear as the mystical shroud of sorcery was ripped from her. She was fully exposed. She heard the footsteps, no running. She turned in time to see Sharka, also fully exposed, dash through the tent flaps. Sharka came to stop at her side. The orc woman’s daggers were poised to strike, but her eyes were wide with terror. They had walked right into a trap.

  “So, you over-confident fools thought you could just sneak in here and kill us did you? Using sorcery, no less?” said the king with a voice that carried surprising levels of sophistication and amusement. “Let me guess, that old fool Duroc probably even told you that you’d better kill the witch first, right? That her use of magic was powerful.”

  Kiriana betrayed nothing, instead remaining silent with her fingers clasped firmly around her blades. She calculated the distance between them and the marks. At full sprint, five strides, she calculated. I can have my steel in his chest in under two seconds.

  The goblin king interrupted her train of thought with a warning and a wave of his finger. “I wouldn’t if I were you. You’ll find out that the witch isn’t the only one with power soon enough, don’t rush it.”

  Kiriana called his bluff. She sprang forward into a full sprint, charging the king. Sharka bolted forward, making for the witch. Their blades were ready to strike.

  The witch muttered strange words, then howled as she flung her hand towards them. In an instant, fiery yellow wisps of magic lashed out at the two girls. The stinging bite of the magic tore at their flesh, eliciting their screams. It didn’t halt their charge. More words were shouted by the goblins. Two surges of magic came in rapid succession. A wild bramble-vine shot up right out of the stone and twisted its self around one of Sharka’s ankles, causing her to trip and fall.

  Kiriana found no such restraints and she lunged toward the corpulent figure on the make-shift throne. Both of her swords shot forward in a vicious thrust, but the king was gone. He vanished into thin air. The blades slammed awkwardly into the wood-backed chair. Kiriana whipped her head around as she tried to pry her blades free from the wooden throne. Groknahl stood behind her, smiling at her with wicked eyes as he held up a fiery red gem. Kiriana yanked hard and one sword came free. Leaving the other behind, she spun to strike the king, but he was too fast. Like venom dripping from the serpent’s mouth, words fell from his lips. The goblin king flicked his wrist and his fingers snapped forward. Alien red smoke whirled through the air in erratic half-circling swaths. Kiriana sidestepped the smoke with a lunge from her powerful legs, but the smoke circled back on her.

  A boulder-sized fist of red magic slammed into the master assassin’s side. Kiriana was sent reeling. Her lithe body crashed hard to the floor. She rolled to her feet and like a coiled spring, she shot forward. The king laughed as he rocked her with another devastating blast from the magic.

  On the other side of the tent, Sharka dove into a forward roll after breaking free from the grasp of the vines. The fat little witch cursed and another swarm of fiery yellow sprites darted forward like tiny golden lances. The glowing magic darts flashed and turned to steel just before they pierced Sharka’s left shoulder. The already injured shoulder surged with pain as the steel slivers plunged deep into her flesh.

  Sharka roared as she charged through the pain. The witch’s wits were quick, but her portly body was not. Sharka closed on her in a flash. Fear filled the witch’s eyes as the dagger struck. The bone dagger’s uneven bite was lethal. The witch’s hands reflexively reached to her neck, but the river of blood had already begun to flow. The disbelief hadn’t even fully registered on her face before it was over. Her body collapsed to the slick, crimson floor. Sharka turned her attention to the king just in time to watch Kiriana scream.

  Smoky bands of red sorcery lashed themselves to Kiriana. Her hands and her feet were all bound separately by his magic, and it had begun to pull. Sharka raised her bloodied dagger and lunged forward.

  “Do it and I’ll tear her in half!” said the king with a growl.

  Kiriana cried out in pain as the magic’s grip intensified and began the stretching.

  Sharka could hear the rising sound of shouting and running coming this way. The goblins were coming to their king. Time is up. Sharka called his bluff, and charged forward. King Groknahl wasn’t bluffing. As Sharka charged, he used his magic. She was sideswiped by Kiriana’s captive body. The two women’s bodies collided with great force and it sent them crashing to the ground. Sharka rolled over just in time to see the serpentine red mist strike. The goblin king’s magic was a noose fastening itself around her neck, and soon he’d squeezed all the air from her.

  “Oooh,” he said with a wicked smile, “I do like the feisty ones. I’d be more upset with you for killing my wench, if it didn’t excite me so much.”

  They were too busy fighting for their lives to reply.

  “It was time for some new concubines, and I think the two of you will be more than adequate replacements for nasty old Higurd. Besides, I’ve always had a fancy for the more exotic breeds,” he said with a grunt and a lick of the lips.

  Sharka and Kiriana fought against their bonds with all of their might, but the king’s magic was too strong. It was hopeless, and they realized it just as the king’s guards made their way into the tent. The guards’ faces revealed surprise to find the old witch Higurd dead, and two assassins fully suppressed by their lord’s magic.

  King Groknahl growled. “Chain ‘em up and feed ‘em. They’ll need to be thicker so I don’t break ‘em. And watch out they bite, I hope...”

  25

  Dragon’s Fire

  Today I received troubling information. My brother sent me a message about the ravages of the sickness. It has grown two-fold in my absence. It’s only been a few months. I must complete my training without delay; my people need me.

  Speaking of training, today’s lesson was about finite power. Hramen explained that while the Qarii are beyond measure, there are in fact a finite number of them scattered across the Eversphere, and as such, the power that one can wield is limited in yet another way. For this very reason, the usage of the magics will never be so widespread as to seem common. Possibilities must exist, which circumvent such needless limitations.

  From the personal journal of Duroc Stonebrow

  THEROS SAT ON THE HARD stone ground with his back against the wall. He looked around the quiet campsite. Dominar snoozed, while Nal’drin was taking in another lesson on the magics. The words of his last conversation with Dom played through his mind. He glanced over at the well-worn, leather bound book sitting next to him.

  “We need all the help we can get.” He picked up the old book and began to thumb through the pages. He found the spot where he left off, and he began to read.

  Activating the Blessing

  I’ve no doubt that many of you have come to this section, even if you’ve skipped everything else up to this point. It is the same with just about every student that walks through our doors. Rarely does anyone have the time or interest in the history, they just want to know how to hurl giant fireballs and call down bolts of lightning. What is wrong with these younger generations? I digress.

  The truth of the matter is that there are quite a number of incredible feats that can be accomplished by seasoned Keepers. The challenge that we all face in the
beginning, is that no one really understands how it works at first. The seemingly random surges of power and abilities that leave you awestruck and emboldened one moment are then nowhere to be found the next. It is one of the most exciting and infuriating times you’ll ever experience in your life, and it happens to us all. In time, you will learn to feel the presence, and then you will be able to call on it. How does it ever operate before that happens though? Sheerly by the grace of Ynu.

  Blessings and Magics

  Though neither are common, at least not in this age, people often confuse Keepers with practitioners of the dark arts. I wish to emphatically state that Keepers are not sorcerers, witches, warlocks, or wizards or any other name prescribed to those that dabble in the magics. Though in some ways they may appear to be similar, they are two entirely different forms of power. As stated, the Keepers draw their power directly from Ynu, whereas those who use the magics draw their power from the Qarii.

  The differences go well beyond that. The blessing of Ynu is at first glance a much more structured system of power. The blessings are all broken out into the seven classes of Keepers that we’ve defined. Despite the immense power the Keepers possess, they are naturally limited to the blessings within their class. That is to say that you will not find a Keeper of the Flame manipulating the ocean’s tides. In the same way that Keepers are limited in this, they are also limited in their use of the Elder Stones. In the rare event that a Keeper were to possess an Elder Stone that corresponded to their element, they would become incredibly empowered. And it is for this very reason that the Keepers have purposely sought to prevent that from happening. Even the great and honorable Lorenathi’Liluon, a Keeper of the Light, was in possession of a ruby Elder Stone, and not a topaz.