Ekleipsis

by Pordlaw LaRue

  Separated Hearts

  Vandor and Kayla finally arrived on the far outskirts of the Land of the Seekers, after being warned, by the villages on the way, of the Gottlos attacks and armies dwelling therein. They had traveled a great distance from Nesal, and were worn. They had seen many people and places which they had never laid eyes on before in Erde. Many things were new to them, and would have held their attention more if the desire to find MaZak had not overwhelmed all their senses.

  As they beheld the view across the horizon, their eagerness to rush into Trachten, to find MaZak, was somewhat softened by the sight of troops, like ants covering the landscape before them, in the distance. The army of Darkness seemed to number greater than told.

  For a moment, they gazed into the distance at a bright light that shone near the southwest portion of Trachten. Flames seemed to blaze from the same location, and then vanished. Reality seemed to come to terms within their mind. How to get into Trachten without being noticed, where to look once there, how to escape after MaZak was found, and countless other thoughts rushed wildly through their imaginations. They had considered none of these things while rushing off foolishly into the great unknown.

  Closer to them due north, they noticed the kicking up of dust, which appeared to be some type of small struggle between a number of persons on either side. Taking note of the glimmering coming forth from the armor of some, Vandor and Kayla assumed they were numbered among the Sealed. The larger fellows, of which they contended, must be Gottlos or at least servants of the Darkness. They pricked Korb and Dove with their heels, and made advancement toward the fight.

  The closer they got, the more brutal they realized the combat was. Indeed, they saw those who wore the shining armor of King Salvare. Most of the men appeared to be in their forties, with one maybe but a few years older than Vandor and Kayla. The elders used their swords against the large Gottlos with grace. The younger seemed to hold well his stance, yet his fundamentals were not as refined.

  Vandor and Kayla dismounted near a large fallen tree. Vandor drew his blade, while agreeing Kayla could use her bow from there. For a moment, they simply stared at the beasts which fought the Sealed. The moments by the stream, with Rayhold and the Gottlo, filled their minds with pictures so vivid, as if they found themselves there but again. Anxiety desired entrance into their hearts. Pushing against it, they refused to stand idle by the way.

  Rushing forward into the brawl, to the back of the foes, Vandor ran his sword into the side of one of the Gottlos fighting the younger Sealed. Flinching and grunting in discomfort, the Gottlo turned and slung his blade toward Vandor. Raising his blade to block the Gottlo’s blow from his face, the force was too strong for one arm and knocked Vandor to the ground. Quickly, Vandor sliced the calf of the Gottlo, rolled, and recovered to his feet. The Gottlo was struck by an arrow in his left shoulder, which held his sword, followed by another in the center of his back. He fell to his knees, as Vandor wasted no time piercing through the Gottlo’s stony heart with the blade his grandfather had given him.

  The Gottlo had fallen forward with dead weight upon the sword. It took a moment for Vandor to roll over the heavy foe to withdraw his weapon. Looking over his shoulder, he could see three more Gottlos running toward them from the direction of Trachten. “Three more!” he shouted, as he made his way to battle another one of the Gottlos.

  The battle raged on, with Kayla running low on arrows. She knew she must be more sparing with her shots, watching mostly for care of Vandor. She could see the fatigue growing within the men of the Sealed. Sweat rolled down the contours of their faces, burning their eyes, as they contended against the foes of Darkness. Continuous blows against their blades, jarring their clinched grips and tightened muscles, gave way to exhaustion with every assault. Four Gottlos were dead, leaving three showing no signs of retreat, with two of the Sealed lying lifeless, having gone on to meet their Maker.

  The younger of the Sealed had fell beneath the mighty blows of the Gottlo. Vandor took notice from the corner of his eye, and knew he was the closest. Turning from his foe, he fought against fatigue with every fiber of his being, forcing himself toward his fallen comrade. Kayla released an arrow, which silently pierced between the eyes of the Gottlo of which Vandor had just fled. The Gottlo fell to the ground, twitching but for a moment.

  Kayla, keeping her eyes fixed on Vandor, reached to find another arrow. The quiver, across her back, felt empty. She turned to look, finding one yet remained. Pulling it forth, she slid it into place, resting it upon her hand which held the bow, slowly drawing it back against the string. She focused on the Gottlo, which stood over the fallen Sealed raising his sword to slay the young man. She feared Vandor would not reach him in time. She steadied herself, and controlled her breathing. As her drawn fingers loosened to release the arrow of hope, she was struck in the back by a mighty force. She felt the arrow slip from her finger tips. Her eyes closed, and she fell unconscious to the ground.

  Hearing footsteps from the Gottlo, Vandor’s hand released his sword, refusing to grip it any longer. He watched it fall to the ground in disbelief. Vandor screamed in pain as the disrupted arrow had buried itself within his right shoulder. Vandor turned in Kayla’s direction. Unable to stop moving forward, the force pushed him almost over, causing him to stumble. The Gottlo was caught by surprise. It turned, swinging its sword toward Vandor, more as a club than a blade. Vandor’s head was met with the tremendous force of the flat portion of the blade, jarring every member of his being. Vandor clasped to the ground as if dead, but this gave the young Sealed the opening to pierce the Gottlo’s heart.

  The young man saw two Gottlos upon horses striding toward Trachten, from whence Kayla was. One had Kayla in front of him laden across the saddle. The other screamed words unknown to him, in a seemingly animal dialect which sent chills down the Sealed’s spine. The remaining Gottlos turned and ran toward the others upon horseback. Burdened, the men let them go without strength to follow.

  The men fell to the ground, dropping their swords, sitting and catching their breaths. Removing their helmets, they bent over staring at the ground. The young one, whom Vandor had rushed to help, moved slowly over to check for signs of life. Had he lost this new friend before ever getting to know him? He’s alive! he screamed within himself.

  The men, including Vandor, were dirty, covered in blood and sweat, mixed with tears and dust, their bodies full of bruises. Although they would all live, what of the young girl?

  Rally in Geheim

  In Trachten, the Gibborims, the remaining sons of Galtare, along with Vikadore, divided the armies of Darkness to cover the Land of Erde. With the loss of Desgosto, then Abejoti, the brothers’ thoughts of tyranny against the souls of Erde had only increased. There was not a soldier of the Darkness which did not bare the mark, and that had not bowed a knee in reverence to Jagare and his image.

  The Gibborims, Gottlos, and Ubils were all ready to move at the voice of Jagare. Their thirst for blood drooled down their faces like ravenous wolves. Rubicund towered above the armies, staring across the Land of Erde, able to see for miles past Trachten. Concerning the inhabitants, there seemed to be very few who the Dragon could not see; for he had long moved about seeking whom he may devour.

  § § § §

  Kirche had been cleared out, with only a few yet remaining to make one last sweep, and gather what may have been left of importance. Mere handfuls of people still made their way through Signum, as they refused to leave their belongings behind. Loaded down donkeys and wagons could be seen moving throughout the city, with but a few of the Sealed holding out for the stragglers. Their love of and refusal to depart with their possessions had caused them to be left behind by Ciafus and the Council of Kirche, along with many others who had chosen to leave such belongings.

  At the very hour, while the souls of Signum arrived in Geheim, there were many among the Sealed who protected their backs lest threats arose from Trachten. A good number of the Sealed searched the grounds
of Erde warning and persuading men, women, and children to follow them to safety, from the coming menace of the Darkness. There were many who followed, those who mocked, and others who claimed they would be on their way shortly.

  § § § §

  Persuaded by Ashvar, the majority of persons in Nesal had safely made their way into the hidden parts of the Cadas Mountains, called Geheim. Met there by persons of Ashvar’s own village, Breckenly, and villages from all around Erde, there must have been thousands upon thousands of men, women, and children arriving throughout the day. Seeing the insignia of King Salvare upon the many Sealed present gave comfort to the weary.

  Sycress, Rayhold’s mother, refused to follow, but was permitted to stay with the few who chose to remain in Nesal. She wanted to linger there, in hopes that her son Rayhold would return. Sycress feared if she were to leave Nesal her son might be lost forever to the Darkness; for how would he know where to reach the secret place of Geheim on his own? Though she was not given the directions to Geheim, desiring to keep such from the approaching armies of Jagare; yet she remained in hopes to see her son once more.

  The first thing Tindal and Sorie did after arriving in Geheim, with the letter Vandor had left them in hand, was to inquire if any had seen their son. They were told to check the infirmary, for there were a few young men healing there. They made their way around the maze of people, while Ashvar moved to find Ciafus. Nau left his wife Amashai with his children Hisum and Misal among the rest of the people mingling, as he followed Ashvar. Eslar accompanied Tindal and Sorie in hopes to also find MaZak, though she feared, if he were yet alive, he would have returned to Nesal first.

  Entering the infirmary, their eyes examined each face present, within seconds, looking for distinct details. There, toward the back, past more than twenty cots, laid their son. Sorie gripped Tindal’s hand tightly, as they made their way through the medical personnel. Eslar followed, taking a second glance at every face, hoping she may see MaZak or Dartego. She had asked for Ashvar to inquire of such, as he found his way to Ciafus, hoping he would return with good news.

  As they reached Vandor, a lump still remained upon his brow, with his right arm held tight against his body with bandages. Sorie pushed past Tindal to her son. She knelt, allowing the tears to seep from her eyes, reaching out, placing her gentle hands upon her son’s face. “Oh, my precious Vandor,” she softly wept, kissing his cheek. Her tears dropped to his face, as he opened his eyes. Her heart leaped within her bosom, as she tightly embraced him. Oh thank you, my God, for saving my son!

  Tindal smiled, kneeling and placing his hand upon his son’s arm, “It is good to see you, V.” A part of him groaned to demand Vandor give answers for his disobedience in leaving, and to question where and to what had he been about. The law dwelt deep within Tindal, but, for this precious moment of reunion, he refrained from allowing it to speak.

  Sorie asked her son, “Is Kayla here?”

  “No,” Vandor said quietly, with a solemn look. “Are her parents here?”

  “Tebad and Triamencia have stayed in Nesal to search for Kayla. Do you know where she is? We may be able to send them word,” Tindal questioned.

  “We came upon a battle in Trachten…she was taken by the Gottlos,” Vandor began to tell, but was broken off by the arrival of his new friend.

  A young fellow, with jet black hair and similar build as Vandor, approached. “This is Arkadas. He and others of the Sealed saved my life by bringing me here,” Vandor proclaimed.

  “Don’t be so modest Vandor. It was you who risked your life to save mine, and helped us in the fight with the Gottlos. I only wish we could have been able to save your friend also,” claimed Arkadas, showing remorse, speaking of Kayla.

  Attention was drawn to the young girl, in the bed across the aisle, as she began to moan and shake drastically. She was strapped to the cot, across her shoulders and thighs. It was to protect her from harming herself, for she would spasm uncontrollably quite often. She remained in a comatose state, yet continued to sweat profusely, running a very high fever. The physicians had tried all that they knew, yet her condition only worsened by the hour.

  Into the infirmary walked Ashvar, along with Ciafus and Nartod, the head physician of Kirche. They made their way to the convulsing young lady. Kneeling beside her, Ashvar bowed his head, placing his hands upon her arm and forehead. For a moment there was only silence. Her convulsions ceased. Her sweat began to dry and her fever drifted away, as she appeared to begin to rest peacefully.

  Ashvar looked up, as he removed the rose blossom necklace, which had now turned black, from around her neck. Crushing the amulet in his hand, he turned to Ciafus, “She has been touched by the Darkness.”

  Vandor reluctantly spoke, “She is Cenobia, from Qualtes.” He did not want to tattle, but he knew he must. “Rayhold gave her the necklace.”

  He decided to tell them all of that which he had once kept secret. He gave record of going to Qualtes with Rayhold and Kayla, and while returning meeting the Gottlo and seeing Rayhold work magic. He revealed the secret that Kayla told him, of how her father also had one of the marked daggers of the Wicked One. He explained his desire to search out MaZak among Trachten, and how it led Kayla and him into the battle wherewith he was wounded and Kayla was taken prisoner.

  Ashvar, Ciafus, Nartod, Arkadas, and his family listened intently to all Vandor had to tell them. Some wished they had known such beforehand, but it was too late to begrudge the young man when it was not done out of malice. Vandor faulted himself with such guilt already.

  Ensuring Vandor was mostly finished with his story, Eslar could no longer contain her anxious heart, “Have you seen MaZak or Dartego,” she questioned Ciafus.

  Ciafus told Eslar what he knew concerning Dartego. He told of Dartego’s accident, and his arrival at Kirche by the aid of Labat and his sons. Ciafus explained how Dartego had since passed away, yet gave warning concerning the coming Ekleipsis with his final breath. Nartod had done all that he could do, but Dartego had passed from this life to the next.

  “Grandmother,” Vandor said. “I met a dwarf named Wiltzer, who carried grandfather’s sword.”

  Vandor continued, giving every detail he could remember about meeting Wiltzer and his wife Damaris. He told them of their old emperor Oviss, their new emperor Penuh Harap, and the place in which they lived, called Hozekan. Ashvar and Ciafus looked as though they had heard the names before, but they remained silent.

  “Nartod,” called a man from the entrance to the infirmary. Labat stood there with his two sons, Falken and Ion. With them stood a ragged young girl, with tangled auburn hair and heavy green eyes. Her clothes were tattered and blood-stained, as she stood at a distance from Labat and his sons.

  “Kayla!” Vandor exclaimed excitedly, but her face remained emotionless.

  Leaving her, Labat moved forward to speak to Nartod. “We found her wandering alone. She hasn’t said a word, and she will not let anyone near her.”

  Vandor tried to get up from his cot. Unable to do so alone, Arkadas helped him to stand. Vandor walked forward toward Kayla, as Ashvar followed. Vandor stood before her, looking into her eyes, but she appeared to not recognize or give him thought. He looked down at her hand, taking notice she no longer wore the ring which he had given her. “Kayla,” he spoke tenderly.

  She stared at him oddly, taking notice of Ashvar, then turned, walking out of the infirmary without a word.

  Vandor was hurt beyond measure. If the thought of losing her were not enough, she was but found yet still lost to him. His heart hurt and burned to reach out to her, to hold her, to love her. The pain was more than a hundred arrows piercing his shoulder.

  Ashvar placed his hand upon Vandor’s unharmed shoulder. “The Darkness has been upon this one Vandor, and it may yet remain. Pray that God may grant us wisdom, and give mercy unto Kayla.”

  “She seems so different,” replied Vandor, with words that failed to be but an unrecognizable whisper of pain from the depth of his so
ul.

  “Patience, Vandor. Your friend Kayla may yet return,” Ashvar said to comfort him, before leaving the infirmary himself.

  Ashvar found Kayla sitting alone, rocking with her arms holding her thighs against her chest, deep within the shadows of the crevasse of a rock.

  The eclipse came forth, which no eye of Erde had ever seen. The armies of Jagare thirsted for it, the inhabitants of Erde feared it, and the souls in Geheim prayed to endure it.

  Ekleipsis

  The sign of which Judarius spoke now rested over the skies of Erde. The new moon moved, ever so softly, across the heavens, making its way to the forefront of the sun. Did it desire to claim all light for itself, or simply wish to withhold the sun’s rays from reaching Erde? There was none who could stop it, for it moved upon the track whereby it was set.

  The mighty roar of Rubicund sounded the call to the armies of Darkness to prepare for battle. The heks began their chants, and the mark upon the hands of Jagare’s army began to tingle beneath the flesh. The Gibborims and Gottlos freed their minds, giving themselves over to the sound of the heks, allowing the Ubils to indwell their beings. A union of Darkness and wickedness, baring record of the total depravity of such brute beast, brought forth unthinkable evil which Erde had never seen. They went forth, spreading like a virus, to seize all of Erde.