by John Grover
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“I am not sure what this place is,” Lianna said. “I believe it is the lower reaches of the castle, but it does not seem like the dungeons.”
“No, not at all,” Nix said. “It does not appear to belong.” He noticed a difference in the walls of the lower level and the ruins above them. “There is something on these walls. Drawings of some kind.”
Lianna got up and used her flint to light the old sconces around them. “They are glyphs. Ancient ways of writing history and storytelling. Our ancestors made them.” She returned to the floor beside him.
Nix leaned over to feel the wall nearest him, but he toppled.
Lianna reached out to stop him. Instead she was dragged to the floor with him. Both laughed, locking arms. A moment of silence passed between them. The ocean sounded outside. Waves crashed. The wind's howl seemed haunted by emotion.
Nix broke the stillness: “Why did our people once make war on each other? Why did we hate each other?”
“It was many years before I was born,” said Lianna. “I am not really sure.”
“Our legends say it had something to do with our races splitting. I heard that we were one race long ago. All three of us--elf, fairy, and amazon. When we split into our three races, a war started.”
“We have similar legends. But it was not three races. It was four. The race that beget us was the fourth.”
Nix’s eyes widened and he sat up. “This cannot be true. We were one into three--like the trinity that is Orum. Our three oceans, three forests, three moons. The leadership races were born of the three moons once worshiped by our races. The first moon to rise belonged to the elves, the second to the amazons, and the third to the fairies. This is the story of our creation passed from generation to generation.”
“You have forgotten the sun. The fourth race was born of the sun. We split from that race to the three we are now. See here…the glyphs tell the story of our creation.” Lianna got up and walked to the wall, brushing the dust and cobwebs aside to examine the drawings. “Look…the fourth race is here. Among us.”
Nix joined her and ran his hand gently over the faded colors and etchings. Figures held spears, hunted food, danced in circles, and held religious ceremonies. The two leaders followed the glyphs around the room, discovering the representations of each of the races, including the fourth one. The fourth race interacted with the other three, mingled with them, lived with them.
“They are taller than elves,” Nix said. “They differ from the rest of the races.”
“Yes, I see it too.”
“Where are they then? Where did they go?”
“They left Orum for another realm. Their shamans opened a doorway and they fled our world. It had become too warlike. The races did not connect. They resisted coexistence in those days. It is so different now.”
“These drawings are not from my people,” Nix said.
“Nor mine. It must be from them. This place. This is why it looks different. These are not lower chambers.”
“The elves and faires…we built our castles over the ruins of the lost race?”
“Yes,” Lianna said. “The two walls do not match.” She pointed to a patch of brick where it met stone and mud.
“This is astounding. I cannot believe what we have discovered.” A smile drew across Nix's face.
Lianna smiled back. It warmed her heart and soul. His face was so beautiful. His raven tresses, like all elves, circled his glowing face. His round dark eyes were engaging, enchanting. She lifted her hand to caress his soft skin.
The Amazon Queen moved toward Nix and kissed him. She enjoyed the taste of his lips. The smell of his flesh. Nix was stunned. He pulled himself away from Lianna, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. “I am honored queen of the amazons, but…”
“But?” Lianna muttered. “It has been many years since I have found a being as remarkable as you. I have yet to bear daughters. A queen without a princess.”
“I am swept away by your beauty, but I cannot. My wife awaits my return.”
“As she should. As would I if I were she.”
“It is not your fault. Sinnia has stricken us all. None of us can bear children. Her evil has changed our very existence. It has stolen the future of our races. This is what we are fighting for.”
“And fight we must,” Lianna said, forgetting about the kiss. “She must die.”
“Come. We must find our way out of here.”
The soft scrape of a booted foot against stone caught their attention. Nix and Lianna discovered walking dead surrounded them. Their vacant eyes glowed with white light, but they were summoned by dark magic. Skeletal arms held swords, axes, maces and spears. Rusted armor clanked.
Lianna and Nix launched into action, hacking their way through the undead horde as best as they could. Nix decapitated the dead elf that swung his mace at him, then kicked a fairy corpse behind him to the floor.
Lianna hacked the arms off the dead in front of her, before toppling one over the barrels that lined the back wall. Nix flipped onto the barrel next to him and took out another undead as three more clamored for him. The more dead the two put down, the more poured into the room.
“There are too many,” Nix called. “We have to find a way out of here.”
“Agreed.” Lianna gestured for Nix to retreat with her to the next room. He did a back flip off the barrel, as she kicked a host of barrels into the path of the dead.
The two of them raced through a doorway into the next room. More undead waited within, scuffling toward them, swinging weapons with great effort. Ribbons of flesh hung from ravaged faces. Mouths with black tongues gaped. A dead archer launched an arrow, and they ducked just as it skimmed their heads.
They were surrounded on all sides. The walking dead choked the air from the room. Lianna and Nix stood back to back, watching the warriors close in on them from every direction.
A cracking echoed in the room and a hole burst through the ceiling. A shower of debris poured in as Vanare, carrying Myrrh on his back, soared down. He circled around the dead and unleashed his fairy dust--a glittery substance secreted from the glands beneath his wings.
The dust blanketed the undead horde, temporarily blinding and halting them. Myrrh hopped off Vanare’s back and pulled back her bow. She shot the dead one by one in rapid fire. Each one exploded as the arrow struck. Limbs and other body parts sailed through the air.
Vanare landed on his feet and swung his sword at the dead, now frozen in place. One by one the corpses fell back to their eternal sleep, never to rise again.
“Ho!” Nix called. “That was magnificent. We thought you both had become that spider’s next meal.”
“The only thing it tasted was the steel of my blade.” Vanare pulled his sword from the last pile of skin and bones and went to Nix. The two locked arms in joyous greeting.
Myrrh slung her bow around her shoulder and headed to greet her queen. The head of an axe caught her in the chest. A walking dead, missed by Vanare’s dust, lurched from the corner.
“By the Gods!” Lianna cried. She rushed to catch Myrrh as she fell. Blood poured like a river, soaking them both. Myrrh gasped for air as she writhed in Lianna’s arms. “No my fine warrior…do not leave me.” She pulled the axe from Myrrh’s chest and threw it across the room.
Nix and Vanare disposed of the last walking corpse and watched as Myrrh died in her queen’s arms. In this heart of decay, they all wept, until Lianna gathered enough strength to stand. She left Myrrh behind to rest with the other ghosts of the ruins.