by TP Keane
Chapter 31
Ol?rin rooted himself into the highest room of the wizard's tower. To be precise it was the north-west turret of the palace which had been home to the wizard caste since Ol?rin could remember. He had spent nearly his whole life milling in and out of the dusty, scroll-laden rooms and, before today, it had been mostly in the company of a warm, homely feeling. But it had been so long since his last visit, and so much had changed, that it had become unfamiliar to him now.
Getting in had proven difficult too. A great number of charms, incantations, and explosions were needed to bypass the magical booby-traps someone had left for him; someone, no doubt, who no longer favoured the rule of Edwina and had no qualms about killing intruders. Bernard nearly lost his head to a Pugione curse, which let loose twenty, or so, determined daggers that changed direction of their own accord to follow them. Ol?rin surmised that the daggers had been enchanted to follow any target that lacked a certain mark.
Etched on some of the limestone walls, as they had ascended the narrow spiral staircase, was the mark in question. He knew it only too well and the sight of the upside-down triangle with two lines curving out in the centre, like a pair of horns, was one he had wished never to see again. It was the mark of the dark wizards who followed the rule of Dantet. He had not laid eyes on it since the time of the ogre's uprising in the Saraethian mountain villages.
"My eyes have been diverted for too long," he muttered over the bubbling cauldron.
"Eh?" Bernard said, raising one bushy, red eyebrow.
"A Supreme Wizard's place is not gallivanting across the kingdom. It is here, watching over his caste and protecting the magic from those who would taint it, even if it is from one of their own."
"Whot could ye have done?" Bernard said, throwing cautious glances out the door, his axe gripped tightly in his hand as though he was expecting another booby-trap, or an invader. "Ye couldnae have refused a request from the Goddess herself."
"No, but I could have sent someone else to find him, or at the very least brought him back here when I did," Ol?rin replied, dropping two of the tears of life into the iridescent liquid that bubbled like tar. "Instead I kept him locked away in a small cabin with me for six years, when other wizarding minds might have been able to help. But this was my quest, wasn't it? It was my arrogance and self-importance which led me to think only I could be the one to carry out her orders. It was my selfish need to be accepted which led me to abandon my charges, and my duties, so I could be favoured in her eyes."
"Now, listen here," Bernard said, stepping closer to Ol?rin, wagging a thick finger. "We've all done things for glory and bumptiousness. I think ye might recall the bribe I took tae let ye in tae Balbuldor. If I had no' been so greedy, maybe none of thas would have happened? maybe me brother might no' be dead." Bernard voice trailed off into nothing before he cleared his throat and continued. "But ye cannae live in regrets because they will do nothing but drown you, and whot use will ye be tae yer charges and yer duties then? We've all made mistakes, and Goddess knows, I've made more than my share. That flaw is no' exclusive tae just you, old man. So get over it, and do whot ye must tae finish this. There'll be time for lamenting and regrets when this is all over."
Ol?rin couldn't help but regard Bernard in a different light then. His sometimes inappropriate candour, and wiliness to act upon impulse, were qualities that Ol?rin had come to admire recently. They were also the qualities that made dwarf's immune to the persuasions of the Dark God. Although, it seemed that his predecessor, Thrais, was not as immune to the rather mundane curse of greed, and the persuasions of a certain silver-tongued dark wizard.
"You will make a fine king, my friend," he said to the dwarf.
Bernard huffed and puffed beneath his immaculately styled beard. Ol?rin was sure that he saw his eyes glisten in the candle light, but he didn't have the opportunity to find out for sure, because in the next moment, Aramus burst into the room with Sudia in his arms. The grey-elf looked decidedly greyer than Ol?rin figured she ought to. And protruding from her shoulder, was the thick wooden shaft of a dwarf's arrow.
"What the hell was that?" Aramus asked, gesturing toward the staircase he had just come up. "You afraid that someone will sneak up behind you?"
"Ah, you mean the curses. No, they were left here by dark wizards trying to protect their secrets."
"A fine shot," Bernard said, gesturing to Sudia's shoulder with a wide grin.
"I have a finer shot. If you like, I can pull the arrow from my shoulder and show you," she seethed. "And I'll shoot it somewhere where the sun dinnae shine."
"Yer a vile creature," Bernard huffed, righting his Etherium armour. "And ye need tae work on yer accent before ye try tae take the piss out of a dwarf. Otherwise ye'll just end up looking like a twat. Oh wait, I guess it's too late fer that."
"Enough you two, we haven't got time for this," Aramus snapped. "Ol?rin, please heal her. I have to return to Aria, she needs my help at the wall."
"But she said?" Sudia began.
"She needs my help," Aramus said forcefully.
"Is it bad out there?" Bernard asked.
"As bad as you can imagine it," he replied.
"Ol?rin, hurry up would ye. Take the Valefire already and let me be off," Bernard said, snatching the pouch from around his neck and holding it out to Ol?rin. "I need tae be wih' me army. There's no way a young whipper-snapper like Aria can protect the city on her own."
"Oh, so now you are the one who is prejudiced. Is it just because she is young, or is it because she is a girl that you doubt her ability? Because from what I can see, she's doing a better job than most of the swaggering men that came before her," Sudia said.
"It's because she's only a wee one. She might have some experience wih' small battles, but defending a city is a different matter. The dwarfs have defended Balbuldor from enemies above and below. It's in our blood. Anyhow, whot do you care whot I think of her? I thought you were only here fer a cure."
"Believe it or not, the outcome of this war affects more than just your fat arse," she replied.
"Right, that's it. I'm outta here," Bernard said, throwing the small leather pouch on the table beside Ol?rin and making his way toward the door. "I've had enough of yer insults."
"You must stay, Bernard," Ol?rin boomed, using his staff to magically seal the door shut and prevent Bernard from leaving. "I will need the Valefire very soon, but until then you must be the one to guard it, not I."
The Valefire could be used to make any number of powerful and terrible weapons; ones that could flay the flesh from a man where he stood, or crush an army as it approached. Such was the might of a shield that could hold back a powerful God like Dantet.
The latter was the most tempting of all for Ol?rin, and that kind of temptation he could physically feel like someone tugging at his sleeve. But there was no time to create those weapons, and he knew it. The lure of the Valefire would divert him from the task at hand, and he wasn't even sure that he had enough time to create Edwina's potion as it was. Even if he crushed Dantet's army, Aramus would still turn and Naretia would still burn because of him. Ol?rin was also sure the Valefire was the prize Mullrode had sought from Thrais before he poisoned him; a prize Thrais could not give him because he had sent it away with his right arm. 'Perhaps there had been some loyalty in his heart after all.'
"Don't go far," he said to Aramus before releasing the door again.
Aramus nodded, rummaged through some of the dusty cupboards nearby, and shoved a wad of bandages into Bernard's wide hand. "Make yourself useful while you're waiting, and fix Sudia up."
Before the dwarf had a chance to sound out the objections that were spluttering on the end of his tongue, Aramus had disappeared beyond the door again.
"Oh yes, please do," Sudia scoffed. "Fix me."
"No amount of anvils on the head could fix you," he muttered.
Ol?rin left them to their bickering and concentrated instead on the potion. He ignored the cries of pain as Bernard pu
lled the arrow from Sudia's shoulder. He ignored the foul curses that she swore at him, and the worse ones that he swore back. He was watching the potion bubble slowly, much too slowly for his liking. With every thunderous sound of something large hitting the palace walls, and there were many, he grew more impatient and wished he could bolster the small fire underneath. But he couldn't. He had to wait for the potion to display the right shade of pink before he could add more mundane ingredients like Farthal Fall - a rare fungus that would bind most potions together.
When he went to fetch the Farthal Fall, however, there was considerably less of it in the glass jar than he thought. He was sure that only a moment ago there had been enough for him to complete the potion. Dust had thickened over the multitude of jars lining the wall, so that their contents were obscured. Perhaps he had mistaken one jar for another? As it was, the Farthal Fall jar, which rested on a cupboard by the door, was all but empty, save for a few scraps left at the bottom.
Ol?rin scrambled through the cupboards beneath the grimy shelves, and breathed a sigh of relief as his hand rested upon another jar. Examining it closely he was even more relieved to see that it was filled to the wide triangle stopper with small, dimpled, green balls. Popping a few balls into the bubbling cauldron, the iridescent liquid turned muddy.
"Bernard, I will need you to hold the Valefire over the potion now."
From his left side Bernard's hand appeared and it was splattered with Sudia's grey blood. Between his thick fingers, Ol?rin saw the impossibly white stone gleam. It reminded him of the same dazzling haze that encased Darzithal, only this light was tangible. Almost as though he were in a trance, Ol?rin found himself reaching out to touch the stone, dreaming of the wonderful things he could do with its power. As his fingers came within inches of the talisman, he wondered if he could actually rule the kingdom of Naretia. He would certainly make a better ruler than those who had come before him. He would preach kindness, equality, and tolerance between the castes? and cut down those who would oppose him. Any ignorant fools standing in his way would feel the wrath of his righteousness, and justly so.
"Ol?rin?"
Bernard's voice shattered Ol?rin's dreamy utopia. He snatched back his hand and fixed his eyes resolutely on the dirty potion instead. Torn between the possibilities of an ideal world and the corruption the power of the Valefire had wrapped around his heart so quickly, Ol?rin was fearful of looking at it again. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather himself.
"Are you okay?" Bernard asked.
"Just rest the tip of the Valefire into the liquid," he replied, stealing a few more deep breathes.
Bernard did as he was told, and the viscous potion began to swirl slowly as Ol?rin recited the words he had heard whispered to him in dreams. It was a language that was unfamiliar to him, but the sounds rolled off his tongue as though he had spoken it since birth. He knew it to be as ancient as the foundations of Naretia itself, for it was the God's language. But no sooner had the last sound left his lips, the words left his memory as Edwina had told him they would be. Forgotten in an instant, and try as he might, he could not remember them. He knew it was probably for the best because the vernaculars of deities had a power unto themselves and were never meant for mortal lips. The potion continued to swirl, but now two distinct colours emerged. Like snakes coiling around one another, one side was dark while the other began to shine.
Ol?rin nodded to Bernard then and the dwarf removed the Valefire from the potion, quickly putting it back in its pouch with a cautious eye toward Ol?rin. Just as he did a ruckus erupted from the staircase beyond the door. Ol?rin heard the distinct sound of magical projectiles zipping through the air, followed by the numerous clangs of metal swords. The sounds of dark words activating darker spells found their way into Ol?rin's ears too, and he recognised the voice that had spoken them.
"Sudia, guard the potion and bring it to me when the darkest part is as black as night and the brightest shines like the moon, do you hear?" Ol?rin shouted. "It cannot be moved until then, not a bump or a tremor."
"Why me?" she asked glancing toward the door.
"Because I fear I may need Bernard's axe, and your shoulder has yet to heal. Do not argue with me, not now."
Sudia narrowed her deranged eyes, but did not argue.
It took Ol?rin only a moment to fly down the narrow, winding steps and find the source of the noise. Surrounded by the King's Guard was a junior wizard with shoulder-length black hair and a nose that stuck up into the air no matter which direction his head turned. The booby traps, which had nearly cut them down as they entered, lay dormant now that their creator was present. The soldiers fought bravely against Mullrode, but their swords were no match for his magic. One by one, they fell to their deaths.
"Congelo!" Ol?rin boomed, pointing his staff at Mullrode who had not seen him approach.
Mullrode's arms slowed to a halt. As his face turned toward Ol?rin, it froze, along with his body, in an expression of surprise and anger. The junior wizard, immobilised in mid-motion with one leg still in the air, he came crashing to the ground with a dull thud as though he was a statue tipped over. Bernard was on him in an instant, kicking away Mullrode's staff and pressing the sharpened blade of his axe against the wizard's neck. Mullrode huffed and puffed behind his clenched teeth, but could not utter a word.
"Do not kill him," Ol?rin ordered.
"Couldn't ye let it go just thas once?" Bernard said, keeping his axe firmly in place. "I'm sure yer Goddess will understand if thas eejit loses his head."
"I do not spare his life for that reason," Ol?rin replied. "He must be questioned. There are many hands at play in this war and I believe he knows the truth of it all. Bernard, please go get Aria. She will be able to confirm or deny his truthfulness, and may be better at persuading him to tell it than I."
Bernard looked thoroughly put out at not being allowed to lop off the young wizard's head, but obeyed Ol?rin's wishes regardless.