by Lakshman, V.
"I want two squads at each cistern entryway and a platoon of men at the entrance to both stairwells. I want at least two men in sight of both teams. I will check the catacombs, then join you at the main cistern entrance. Signal we may have intruders. Do not let anyone travel alone. Also, inform the watch commander that until further orders, Armsmark Rillaran has been promoted to Firstmark. He speaks with the king’s voice and his orders shall be obeyed as my own."
The lieutenant saluted and said, "Yes, sire."
"And send a runner to the Firstmark, in the war room. Tell him what’s going on."
"Of course, sire." The lieutenant took off with the king’s orders.
"Creatures, they say," Bernal said to his men. "You boys ready to do some fighting?"
The men smiled, nodding to their king. They knew he was a fearsome warrior in battle, but backed it up with the divine right earned through his royal lineage. He was a Galadine, anointed by the gods with powers against demons, or at least the legends said it was so. Was it not said the Galadines of old gave their Magehunters the power to stand against demons and their ilk? They would follow him anywhere, and he would lead them to victory.
"Then let’s go. My son is down there somewhere and I intend on finding him before his mother hears anything. If you know her, you know there’ll be the Lady’s price to pay if we fail." A small smile escaped the king’s lips as he looked at his men, his jest already easing tension and lending confidence.
Without another word, he moved down the stairwell and into the darkness of the lower levels.
LILYTH’S GATE
We cannot know what destiny will bring,
Be it block, strike, victory, or defeat.
Accept things as they come,
But keep an open mind.
Winds often shift and change.
—Kensei Shun, The Lens of Shields
Your son?" Arek wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. "How can that be?"
The woman smiled, revealing perfect, white teeth. The smile reached her eyes, which twinkled with amusement. "You of all people should not doubt what is possible."
"Wh-why?" he stammered in reply.
"Because you have achieved so much, my son. So much more than those around you gave you opportunity for." She turned to look at the assembled shades, recrimination in her gaze. They withered at her sight, falling back to their knees as if in real pain, arms up in supplication.
"Wait," Arek said. He looked upon the shades with pity. "They did their best." He licked his lips, thinking. They seemed truly in fear, a fact that made him more uneasy. He had only interacted with Piter, who had certainly never shown fear around him, only disdain, cruelty, or anger.
Lilyth turned her eyes back to Arek and said, "Mercy is a sign of strength. It is far easier to strike, than to withhold. I am proud of you, my son." She smiled again, and Arek could feel his heart lighten and a feeling of joy washed through him. The feeling passed quickly, leaving him longing for more.
"I still don’t understand. How could you be my mother?" Arek tried putting the pieces together, but was missing too much information to understand how it all fit.
Lilyth moved down a step or two on the pyramid, surveying the scene like a queen. Her head tilted and the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile at the sight of Arek’s two companions. Ignoring his question, she asked, "Your friends?"
"Yes. Yetteje, uh... Princess of EvenSea," he finished lamely, unable to dredge up the royal family name at the moment, his eidetic memory failing him for the first time ever. He felt his face go red and hid it with a look at his feet. "The other is Niall Galadine," Arek finished, still focusing on the stone blocks making up the pyramid he stood upon.
Lilyth drew a quick breath of surprise and looked at Arek, then looked back down at the pair, one hand coming to her throat. "He is here? How fortunate."
Arek gathered his wits, then moved to where he could address Lilyth face to face. "You’re not what I expected. The Gate should have closed."
Lilyth stared at Niall for a moment then turned her attention back to Arek and said, "Of course. You deserve answers."
She beckoned to Niall with a delicate hand, "Please, come join us. What I have to say concerns you both."
To Arek’s surprise, Niall came up the pyramid at a jog, without hesitating, as if compelled. How had he heard Lilyth from down there? Mindspeak? Arek thought. He looked at the woman who claimed to be his mother and saw her smile in response. She seemed extraordinarily pleased, and this worried him more.
Niall neared them and paused, looking about in confusion. "What am I doing here?"
Lilyth laughed. "You certainly do not carry the blood of the Aeris, son of Galadine."
Though her comment sounded genuinely warm, it seemed under it ran a current of barbed humor, as if she made fun of Niall. Arek could tell that despite her openness and laughter, she was not someone to be trifled with. He did not know why he thought this, but knew it was true, nonetheless. Her voice rang like a fine steel blade when drawn, though he suspected she was far deadlier.
He noticed Yetteje had not moved, still frozen in place. He needed some answers, the trapped feeling evident in his clammy palms and racing heart. Perhaps a different tact, he thought.
"Mother, please tell me about all this," Arek said, motioning around him.
His use of the word "mother" had an immediate effect. Lilyth’s pose softened. She turned to look at him, her eyes alight with joy. "I... of course." She smiled, then crossed her arms, putting one graceful hand under her chin, "How much like your father you are."
"My father?" Arek looked at her in shock. "You know my father?"
Lilyth laughed. "I should think so. Let me tell you how you came to be here." She moved closer, her blue skin almost glowing with pleasure. "Many eons ago, we floated carefree in the Void. Simple were our pleasures and we stayed to ourselves." Her gaze narrowed and to Arek it seemed she somehow grew colder. "But we always heard the voice of the Sovereign. It gave us meaning. Those who answered never returned, yet still we came. And across the vast distance of time, we began to change."
Arek looked at Niall, who did not move. His eyes had glazed over, as if he were ensorcelled. He assumed Yetteje was in the same state and knew he had to keep Lilyth talking. He put on a smile and said, "Continue, please."
"Man’s yearning gave us shape. At first we were consumed by the millions, wasted as spells of power and other manifestations of their will. And yet, we did not die away. In fact, more of us came into existence to replace those lost. It was as if dreams created us, and those of us who survived grew strong."
Lilyth paused, her attention turning to Niall, and her gaze grew wistful, but there remained a hard edge to it. "Some men had great strength of will and their beliefs molded us. We served unseen, as spirits and legends of this world."
When Arek looked confused, Lilyth tilted her head to the side and smiled. "Arek, we are ethereal beings, our life is the very essence of magic. Man’s legends and myths shape us and give us life, meaning and definition. We are fairies, djinn, ghosts, angels," she continued to smile and then finished, "and demons."
"We have had many names through the eons, always standing at your right hand, unseen, unappreciated except by a few. Always, we thought you knew of us, but this was not true. You mold our essence blindly; myth and legend are our parents."
"You are our beliefs, come true?"
"Perhaps, some are. I am surely more than that now. We are gods and goddesses, slaves no longer. We are powerful, for we are the Way, just as you have made us to be. The Sovereign seeks to destroy this, and us. To oppose him, we need your help."
Arek looked down, careful to hide the stunned look on his face. His mind raced, but he stalled, saying, "I don’t understand."
"Yes, you do." Lilyth looked down, sadness in her eyes. There was more, much more, but now was not the time. "You understand and that is why you are our last, best hope."
If what she said was true, then the
Aeris were the basis of their magic, but also beings of pure power, given purpose by people’s beliefs. Who knew how powerful they might be, for they were literally gods walking amongst them. When it seemed she would say no more, Arek asked, "And me?"
She looked back up at her son and said, "Arek, you are special, in so many ways. Your destiny is far greater than any petty battles, for you will unite our worlds." Her face lit up with a smile, "But this is not the place to explain how, or why. It will be easier for me to show you. Will you come with me?"
Arek looked about in panic. "Where?"
Lilyth turned her gaze upon the portal and the blackness cleared upon her command. Beyond it, Arek could see green fields, crystalline blue lakes, and white, snow-capped mountains. Sunlight sparkled off the water like golden jewels, and lit the snowy peaks in an outline of fire, delineating them from the firmament itself. It was a land more beautiful than he had ever seen in his life and it felt somehow... right.
"Home," Lilyth said. "We live in a land of beauty and peace. No wars ravage us, no sieges. We do not covet our neighbor’s wealth, nor destroy what we do not understand. We are a land of learning, of conscience, and of honor. Our world is as you imagine it, a place of beauty, peace, and health." She took Arek by both shoulders, facing him. "Arek, you are a prince in our world."
Her gaze penetrated his own and he felt a stirring of something he did not understand at first, but became more and more clear. She was proud of him. The feeling, the reward that someone considered him important, somehow special, began to overcome his natural feelings of caution.
Arek looked back at the portal, mesmerized by the images he saw of Lilyth’s world, for it truly looked heavenly. He could see blue skies with white clouds casting shadows onto fields of yellow flowers. It seemed to be springtime, with a warm sun shining onto green forests fed by the rich, dark loam of the earth. This was a land of beauty, a land so infused with health he could almost see it.
"A prince?" he whispered.
Lilyth smiled, placing a gentle hand on her son’s shoulder. "Come with me. There is so much to tell you, so much to explain." She looked sidelong at him, then leaned in close and whispered, "You can meet your father. He will be overjoyed to see you, at last."
Arek’s head turned. "He lives there?"
"He will meet us there. Will you come with me?"
Arek took a deep breath. All his life he had believed he was special, that something about him was important. It was this belief that focused him to try to always give his best, yet his ineptitude with magic had followed him everywhere. He had always kept faith that being different was somehow important, special, and now he was being offered a chance to learn why.
The answers to his many questions lay through the Gate. There was only one way to find out, he concluded: by going there himself. He looked at this woman, this perfect being he had secretly begun to believe could actually be his mother and said, "I will come, but what about Niall and Yetteje? Will they be safe? What about my master, Silbane?"
Lilyth smiled again, then said, "Niall should come with us. He will be a boon companion, and your father will want to meet him, too." She motioned to Niall, who stepped forward woodenly. "Hold his hand, for he does not have the makings of the Aeris within him and is overwhelmed by the eldritch currents flowing around us. Your touch will help him. Once you are through the portal, he will be fine."
She walked them toward the portal. "Do not worry, Arek. Your ability to disrupt magic will not affect my Gate for very long. Take Niall’s hand. I will be right behind you. I need to ensure Bara’cor’s safety."
Arek looked at Lilyth and the voice within him whispered again, Trust her. She is proud of you. He nodded and smiled. To meet his father! He took Niall’s hand in his own ungloved one and said, "Please see that Yetteje and my master are safe."
He then looked at the portal and took a step, disappearing through it with the Prince of Bara’cor.
Journal Entry 23
I write this, but an event has occurred I thought not possible. She is here!
Malak found her when that rift opened, mortally wounded and close to death. I have brought her back from the brink, but still she does not stir. I withhold her name, for fear she is a figment of my imagination. Her presence, if real, is welcome.
Malak and the elves have evolved to be armored and blue-skinned, with fearsome horns and barbed tails. They are made for war, their skin hard and obdurate, like some type of stone. They defend me as their father, and more appear every day.
Each comes before me and kneels. I feed it a drop of my blood, pricked from my finger, a consecration of sorts. It seems to give them power, life.
These new ones are still small, and each seems attached to one of the four elements. Those who defend are stone. Those who scout are made of wood and air. I expect some of fire and earth will also appear, once my thoughts turn that way.
My mind believes this is how they are made and follows the same comfortable path to success. It is that, or my elves are bringing more forth with thoughts of their own. Regardless, I am watching the birth of a new race of beings, one with the very world around them.
Soon, they will be an army, and I will have to decide their fate. I go now to see to my injured companion, mending slowly under my inept hands...
CLOSE THE BREACH
We do not rise to the level of our expectations,
But fall to the level of our training.
—Tir Combat Academy, Basic Forms & Stances
Ash watched the line, making sure no man stood in another’s field of fire. He distributed arrows and helped stabilize weakened barriers. The men had shifted a large granite table onto its edge, letting the tabletop face the portal, but some steps back. They slid spear shafts under it so it sat on makeshift rollers, allowing Jebida and any who returned with him to exit into the room before the men of Bara’cor rolled the giant table to block the portal. Ash knew Kisan said the portal would close, but didn't want to take a chance, just in case.
A runner came then, out of breath and relayed the king’s most recent orders. After hearing them, Ash turned and motioned to Sergeant Stemmer, who said, "Men, gather round."
The four squads left to guard this chamber formed a loose circle, some taking a knee. When the sergeant nodded their readiness, Ash stepped up and said, "The king seeks his son near the cisterns. However, reports have come from the watch commander that some kind of creatures have infiltrated us from these same lower levels. I know our first thought will be to rush to our king’s aid, but he has asked we remain here. Our orders are to hold this portal until two allies, led by Firstmark Naserith, return with information vital to this fortress’s survival. In his absence and to maintain continuity of command, I have been asked to temporarily take the rank of Firstmark."
He looked at the men, noting their eyes had not wavered. They had not reacted to his information with anything other than their commitment to follow orders. Pride welled up inside him then and he said, "We’ll stand here together. We will hold this room because our king asks us this, because we have men on the other side that need us. Stand firm. You are the golden lions of Bara’cor, and no one will get past you."
Nods came from the men, more meaningful than a cheer in some ways. It showed they knew what they were being asked to do and would do it, even if it meant their lives.
The sergeant’s strident voice finished what Ash had started, "All right, boys. You heard the Firstmark, take your positions! Our orders are simple. We stand. We hold." Satisfied everyone knew what they needed to do, she turned and signaled the firstmark that they stood ready.
An excited voice cried, "The portal, sir. It glows!"
Ash moved quickly, getting behind the main barrier and grabbing a crossbow. He folded the stock, cocking it in one smooth motion and centering a bolt. When he was ready, he took a deep breath then leaned around the corner of the barrier just in time to see a purple flash and three men appear from the blackness.
Ash imm
ediately recognized the first as Kisan. The woman looked tossed and banged about, with soot and ash covering her clothes. A cut ran across her cheek, bleeding slightly.
A thwang sounded next to him as a soldier fired his crossbow.
Ash screamed, "Hold your fire!" even as Kisan turned and deflected the bolt before it hit her, shattering it into pieces in an orange flash.
The other man coming through the portal had crouched at the sound of the bowstring, but had not otherwise reacted, his face measured and calm. His eyes drank in the details of the room, the position of the men and the exit. Having met Kisan, Ash knew the second man had already calculated how to kill them and get out of the room most efficiently. Silbane.
The man Ash thought was Silbane carried a body over his shoulder, an unconscious figure dressed in red robes. He made his way over to Kisan, then dumped the robed figure on the ground. He looked around again with that strange intensity in his faded blue eyes, then straightened, scanning the assembled men. When his gaze came to rest on Ash, he stepped forward and raised a hand, "Firstmark Rillaran, we are well met. I am Silbane."
Ash stepped around the barrier and nodded. "Where is Jebida?"
Silbane looked down, then at Kisan, before looking back at Ash. "We saw him fall, but so too did the nomad chieftain. He accomplished his goal."
Ash stepped back, stunned. A lifetime of memories under Jebida’s tutelage threatened to overwhelm him, but he knew his men needed him to stay focused on the task at hand. He looked down and let go of a breath he had not realized he was holding. He did not have the luxury to mourn the firstmark as he deserved, at least not now. His heart, a soldier's heart, hardened and he moved his thoughts automatically to tactics.
"I want to hear more, but later," Ash said. "We are well met, sir, but I must ask you to close the portal. It is an entry point to Bara’cor we cannot defend indefinitely. I only have sixteen men who can fit in here before our position is strategically unsound."