Light of the Dark

by N. Saraven

  He halted. He must lean against a tree. A few moments later he slid down to the ground, not really realising it. With his left hand, he held his aching side; the sharp pain took his breath away. He ought to rest; he had no choice now. He must find a way, or else he would never reach his goal.

  He glanced around and saw a huge tree trunk on the ground nearby. It was old with a big hole through its middle. It seemed so perfect; it almost made him forget about his pain. He crawled to it, then squeezed into the hole. It was decayed, smelly, and dirty, not to mention it held home to a lot of unpleasant inhabitants, like worms. Normally, he would have never considered it as a refuge. Beggars could not be choosers, however.

  The trunk had a little spyhole in his eyeline, so basically it was as perfect as he could have hoped for. He even got to test how good of a hiding place it proved to be. As he peeked out, he saw a dark shadow flying slowly through the skies. His heart started throbbing again, but the shadow glided away.

  He was not discovered, which seemed almost impossible to him, yet it happened. He relaxed a little as he closed his eyes for a moment to rest them a bit.

  The fugitive startled awake. For a few moments, he did not know where he was or what he was supposed to do. His heart was throbbing; he could not see much in the dim light. Panic started to gobble him up. He straightened up so suddenly that he banged his head into the tree trunk. That, at least, brought him back to the present and soothed him.

  He lay on his back a little, just to put his swirling memories in order. After he felt calm again, he peeped out to look around.

  Everything lay quiet. Too quiet.

  He frowned, trying to understand what had happened. It seemed that he had gotten away. Nobody had found him, neither the flying shadow, nor the foot troops. It was too good to be true, however, so he did not believe it for one moment.

  After he could not find out anything more from inside the trunk, he scrambled out. The moment he started to move, his body was in agony again. Every muscle ached, his lungs stung. He could barely stand, as if his knees were made of jelly.

  He forced himself up and looked around. Obvious signs showed that the enemy had been there—footprints, a sooty stain on the ground where he had sat down, and so on. Yet the pursuers had completely missed the huge trunk in which he had slept through the raid, as if he was on a trip …

  He could not believe his eyes. Something must have helped him, something of a bigger force—perhaps the one who gave him this crazy quest in the first place.

  “Well … at least I’m alive. That’s the only certain thing at this point,” he murmured under his breath and shrugged. It was no use thinking more about it. He ought to move along; he could not let this opportunity slip.

  So he dusted off every unwanted company he got in the tree trunk, then started forwards again.

  He could hardly control his tormented body; he had to think carefully about every step. Even though the rain had stopped, everything stayed muddy, wet, and slippery. The sky hovered gloomy from the heavy clouds; the air remained damp and just cold enough to make anybody very uncomfortable after a while.

  The man felt miserable. As he discovered, running for his life for days did not improve one’s quality of life. He was hungry, thirsty, and exhausted beyond imagination. He grabbed his water bottle from his waist and took a huge gulp. At least he would have, if there were any water left.

  He started to muse on the situation as he strolled forwards. Luckily, a little later, a splashing sound caught his ears. He followed the sound, literally hungry for water, and arrived at a small creek. He almost burst into tears when he saw the clear water in front of him. He knelt down to drink, forgetting everything else.

  It felt so good! The cold water stung his throat, yet it seemed the sweetest thing he had ever experienced. Even his stomach grumbled less.

  But alas, nothing could be gained for free.

  He glanced up at the last moment. His heart almost stopped when he faced the black reptile hovering just above the treeline. It wanted to attack immediately, but the branches of the trees held it back. The shadow slapped its trapped wings frantically to free itself. It took only a few moments, albeit it proved to be enough for the fugitive to dive into the thicket.

  He started to run as soon as he could scramble to his feet. He still could feel the heat on his back—the enemy’s fire-breath, which made the forest burst into flames.

  He ran as hard as he could in his poor condition, with tears streaming down his cheeks. He could hardly believe that he had lost. He got so close! Yet his goal seemed the farthest thing right now.

  He could hear the wings swooshing above him. The enemy was waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack. It struck down at the same moment that he collapsed, unconscious.

  But the shadow dragon never got to his prey. A black spike reached out from somewhere in the trees, piercing through the attacker’s heart. Then it pulled its victim to itself. The reptile disappeared without a trace, as if it had never existed. Nothing noticed it.

  The man lay on the ground, belly down, somehow alive. Right in front of him, something incredibly thick whirled.

  The Black Mist looked at the intruder with its scarlet eyes. It was not unusual for it to meet uninvited strangers, and it had to eliminate them. It was a guard, and it did its job perfectly.

  The Mist formed a dark spike and reached for the collapsed man. But as soon as it got close to him, a pouch on his belt started to shine. It was a terribly bright silver light, which soon started to hurt the Mist. It backed away immediately, yet the light shone further, making the Guard ache.

  As an answer, Halgor appeared in front of the Mist, which wanted to escape from the light source but could not. The elven perfectly felt his servant’s agony, so he glared at the intruder searchingly. Not all trespassers had something this intriguing, maybe dangerous to them.

  The mage could not tell who the unknown man was because his hood covered his face. The elven searched for the light source, which still emitted from a pouch. The cloak did not cover the man’s back.

  Interestingly, the shining was almost invisible, yet it seemed brighter than the Sun itself to him. Halgor thought this fascinating. It hurt his mind though, which soon escalated to annoying. Whatever that thing might be, it obviously was his enemy. Probably it would be unwise to tamper with it in any way. Maybe he should not even touch the man until he knew what he was up against.

  Whoever that man was, he obviously wanted to get into Varomor.

  Alright, mystery man, you will get in. But after that, we’ll see, Halgor thought with a grimace.

  He sent out an impulse to Eryn, who appeared almost immediately beside him.

  “Do you see that pouch on his waist?” asked the Master. Eryn just nodded. “Try to take it off!”

  The wraith hesitated for half a moment, then he obeyed without any words. As soon as his hands got closer to the pouch, the thing inside started to shine even brighter. When the apprentice touched it, however, all light disappeared. The elven nodded contently.

  “Alright, Eryn. Please, make this … guest comfortable in one of our free rooms. Give him water, food, everything he needs, then seal the door with a rune. And also put the pouch in the upper magic-room.”

  Then Halgor turned to the Mist, who needed to be convinced to let the intruder inside. It was not an easy job, but the elven managed. Then he murmured a word and disappeared. After the Master left, Eryn started his task.

  Neila sat stunned. She became deathly pale and gazed far off as she tried to think through the turmoil within her.

  Cameron was captured! This cannot be happening! We have to save him! screamed her mind. But the Master of Varomor in her answered with a logical, calm voice. We knew this could happen. We cannot do anything right now; we need to get back to Varomor. We need to prepare for what’s coming.

  Neila shielded her face with her hands. “He wouldn’t leave me behind either,” she murmured under her breath, which made Elnor glance
at her with concern. He could not have known anything about the tornado of feelings inside her.

  No, he would return to the Tower first, THEN plan anything else, said the Master’s voice in Neila’s head. She knew that ‘she’ was right, slowly cooling her feelings down.

  Suddenly, she felt water sprayed in her face, which made her wince and blink rapidly. She gazed at Elnor, as if she had never met him before.

  “Well, if you managed to pull yourself together, maybe we could do something about this Cameron business,” said the kobold. His voice sounded loose; he seemed completely calm. Neila stared at him in disbelief.

  “Y … Yes …? What do you have in mind?” she asked nervously.

  “I know where he is, but getting him out of there …” Elnor shook his head and shrugged. He saw the questions in the mage’s eyes, saw the hope. But his body language showed that there was nothing they could do. Anger filled Neila at this. She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, but suddenly Halgor’s voice broke into her head.

  “You need to get back to Varomor!” ordered the elven, which made Neila frown.

  “I cannot, I have—” she complained, but she was interrupted.

  “NOW!”

  Neila became out of breath. Since when did Halgor order her around …? She was caught completely off guard; she could not even reply before he broke the connection.

  Neila jumped to her feet as if she were stung, which made Elnor raise an eyebrow questioningly. If he knew or guessed anything at all about the happenings, he did not show it.

  “Well … um … I have to go now. Please, get every information that you can,” said the mage.

  The paragon just gasped in disbelief. He tried to complain, but she did not pay any attention. She waved goodbye, then cracked the door open. After she saw nobody suspicious on the road, she slipped out and started to walk as fast as she dared. She did not care about what Elnor might have thought of her behaviour, or what he wanted to say.

  She could not get Halgor’s voice out of her head. She knew him, maybe more than she wanted. But she had never heard him speak like that before. He had never ordered her before. Ever.

  As Neila thought more and more about it, she discovered something else in the elven’s voice.

  Fear …

  So much fear that she could not imagine what might have happened. Maybe the world turned upside down. Only something huge like that would have made Halgor recall her from this mission.

  Neila could get out of the city without any more trouble. Only after she left the gateway behind did she dare to use teleportation. From their sources she knew that Indrek and his minions somehow worked out how to detect even the smallest magic inside the walls. On a scarier scale, they could also follow anybody through the teleportation.

  Normally this should not happen. No mage, no matter how powerful they were, could just follow or make somebody else teleport away. Regarding ordinary people, the mage or mages had to use specific spells the first time they intended to travel together. The mages needed to become familiar and attach to the other person’s unique energies. It could not be done from any distance either, only at close proximity, although after the first time, usually the ‘normal’ person could be teleported by that mage at any time with ease.

  In the case of two or more mages, the situation became a little more complicated. They too had to go through these kinds of protocols if they wanted to travel together. However, they had learned to block their unique energies, so another could not ‘just’ teleport them away like ordinary people. This meant that even if they knew each other, the ‘teleportee’ always had to lower their guard before the ‘teleporter’ could whoosh them away.

  Following another required the one who ‘led’ to ‘allow’ the other to be attached to their spells. In this situation, they had to allow this every single time.

  Not even Neila could just follow Halgor if the elven did not ‘give permission’ to do so. In other words, if Indrek truly managed to break these rules, it really could mean huge problems for Varomor. Or any opposing mage, for that matter …

  Neila, in the next moment, found herself in the comfort of her own room. She pulled back her hood as, with another word, she arrived at Halgor in the library. The elven jumped to his feet immediately when the black-clothed mage arrived.

  “Well, here I am. What was so important that couldn’t wait?” she asked as she folded her arms. But even though she tried to sound calm, she could not hide the nervousness in her voice. She noticed the man at the window looking out, but she was more concerned about Halgor at the moment.

  “You have to see that for yourself. Maybe after that, I too can believe that this whole thing is real …” whispered Halgor.

  Neila’s eyes widened. The elven was notably sick! He was pale, and surprise mixed with grief shone in his eyes.

  Neila could not believe it. She started to panic, seeing him like that. She stepped forwards, but he just grumpily motioned her away. Then he finished his half-full glass, which made Neila even more uneasy. The elven rarely drank stronger spirits; they both preferred light-or no-spirited refreshments and juices. Now, however, there stood an almost-empty wine bottle in the middle of the table.

  Neila turned to the man at the window.

  “So, who is our guest?” she asked firmly, but she could not prevent her voice from quivering. At this, the guest turned around.

  Neila froze. She turned deathly pale; her knees trembled, then collapsed. She was conscious; however, she could not do anything but stare at the man, who watched this with a satisfied smile. He obviously enjoyed the ‘show’, not caring about Halgor’s dispraising glare.

  The elven tried to bring Neila back to the present. He put a glass of wine in her hand, but she spilt it in her numbness. The dark mage swayed his head, while he made the wine disappear from the floor with a wave. The glass returned to the table by the others.

  “Well now, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The guest grinned as he watched Halgor help Neila up and set her in one of the armchairs. She still just gazed at the man with widened eyes. The visitor leaned comfortably against the windowsill with crossed legs.

  “Huh …?” exhaled Neila. She obviously could not comprehend the happenings. Seeing this, Halgor ordered one of the servants to bring another bottle of wine. In the meantime, he poured the rest from the bottle, then helped Neila to actually drink it. She did not seem to notice any of this, however. Only the wine in her throat made her pay attention by making her cough. When she finally came to her senses, she still looked half-dead. Her glance darted between the elven and the smiling guest.

  “I know what you feel. He had the same … effect on me too,” murmured the dark mage, lowering his gaze as he sat on the wooden armrest beside Neila. This made her miss a gulp again. She could not believe her ears. Normally Halgor would never acknowledge his weakness. Although when she glanced at their guest, she just sighed. This particular circumstance was all but normal.

  “But at least now I know that I can believe my eyes. At first I thought I was imagining things or having a nightmare,” whispered Halgor, still staring at the floor.

  “Talek …” Neila managed to whimper the guest’s name, albeit nothing further. She could feel tears building up in her eyes; her throat became dry and choked up.

  “Yes, me. I am happy to see that my entrance is so effective,” teased Talek, still smiling, then he sat down in the other armchair in front of the mages. He rested his elbows on its arms, fingers pressed together at their tips. “I am truly sorry for my … shocking entrance into your lives again.” Talek bowed his head, although his motions showed mockery.

  Neila shivered and hurriedly finished her wine. She could feel its effects immediately, since she had hardly eaten. But she could not care less.

  “If you don’t mind, could you pour me another glass?” asked Talek, still smiling, while he handed her his glass from the bookshelf beside him. Halgor complied with shaking hands. The guest then savo
ured it slowly, seemingly relishing it.

  “This is exquisite. Obviously nomad wine. I didn’t know that you are in contact with them,” mused Talek, whirling the glass as he observed the fluid in it. He, as a paragon kobold, still had to admit that the nomad kobold race made better wine than them. “Speaking of surprises, Neila, black truly suits you.” The kobold glanced at the mage, which made her wince again.

  “But how …? I mean … How?” She tried to form the question, unsuccessfully.

  “Well, your beloved elven can give you some answers. I already had a little chat with him before. Of course, after he … ahem … how should I put this? Returned to his senses.” Talek chuckled.

  Halgor just inhaled sharply beside Neila. He still seemed too pale; he could not look away from the kobold—the kobold who was their friend and who was captured and tortured to death by the werewolves ten circles ago.

  The elven must have sensed the golden gaze upon him, so he cleared his throat, then answered. However, his voice sounded raspish and unusually weak.

  “So … to answer the question, is it really him? Yes. Eryn looked into that while I was out co—I was out …” he started, but fell silent at this point. He just could not continue.

  “To be precise,” explained Talek with a wry smile, “you were lying on the floor, unconscious. You know, for this, it was worth it. The I-know-everything Halgor, the I-cannot-be-caught-off-guard Halgor, the perfect-dark-mage Halgor … who simply fainted because of a dead friend’s return. It was priceless!”

  The paragon laughed with real mirth this time. His voice still made his friends shudder. They both refilled their glasses.

  Then Halgor continued.

  “Sohooo”—the elven cleared his throat—“Eryn looked into that. Of course, I immediately told you the news—”

  “After you regained consciousness and drank a bottle of one of the strongest nomad wines,” cut in Talek again, although this time he earned Neila’s disapproving gaze. The kobold just shrugged, grinning, and motioned to continue.