Light of the Dark

by N. Saraven

  On the other hand, Halgor said they should fly above the treeline, scattered as much as they could like a fan, and they all should search with their minds. Even though the mages never became dragons, they could guess close enough. Probably they would not mix up every huge animal with a dragon. But more minds find more, as he put it.

  Both ideas had potential; even Neila admitted that, yet she did not want to yield. She became more stubborn than ever. Enargit asked the other dragons, as well, what they thought. However, they politely said that they were not the Leaders; they did not see through the whole situation with all its complexity. So they left the decision to them because it was not their place to make any opinions in the matter.

  After the reptiles stayed out of the argument, Neila turned to Veilon. Maybe she thought that the kobold would choose her side, just because. But the paragon would rather knock on Indrek’s door with a bouquet of flowers in his hands, trying to ask nicely for him to surrender, than flow into this fight. His gaze said this perfectly, as he answered that he would do both because they were all good ideas. With his unusual neutral behaviour, he earned Neila’s angry gaze, but he stayed firm as a rock.

  The companions would have argued about this until dawn if something had not disturbed them.

  At one time, the two shadow dragons drew their attention to the unknown smell in the air. Just as the other dragon races, they had an excellent sense of smell, beside their good sight, which also included seeing fairly good during the night. In exchange, their hearing was not the best, but they did not really hunt with their ears.

  Enargit also sniffed the air and had to acknowledge their truth. Neila slid her hand to the hilt of her sword, and Halgor tensed his bow and put an arrow on the string, as Veilon called to mind some spells. They all got ready to fight; their bodies became tense, ready to jump. Their gaze scouted the thicket firmly, trying to find every unusual movement, but they hardly could see anything, despite their see-in-the-dark spell. Their minds also swept around, but without knowing what to search for, it was difficult to sense anything precisely.

  Then a stranger stepped out from behind a bush. All eyes were on the newcomer now, who moved slowly, obviously trying to be non-threatening. He was tall, lean, with swift movements, and had something of a clothing only around his waist; otherwise he seemed naked. He held a spear in one hand, although not as if he intended to use it. Nobody could make out his features in the dark, and just from his body there was no way to tell to which species he belonged.

  Yet all could feel his gaze on them.

  After the stranger finished their check-up, he held up his free hand as a greeting, as if he meant no harm. Then he slowly put down his spear, probably just in case, to make sure that the companions understood him.

  Then he said something, which made them only blink. They could not understand a word.

  “Who is this? What species?” asked Neila quietly, as she stepped forwards from behind Veilon. The kobold immediately stepped protectively before her when the stranger appeared, drawing Halgor’s angry glance at him.

  The newcomer repeated what he said when nobody reacted for a few moments.

  Veilon pricked his ears after he thought he caught some words he understood. He listened intensely, shutting his eyes. He started to make sense of the other’s words, although his accent was so rough, he could barely make anything out.

  An ancient book came to mind that he once crossed paths with in the library of the Golden Tower.

  “By the Gods!” he gasped, when the truth struck him. “This is a kobold! A nomad kobold!”

  27. “If we let this to happen …”

  Yverion waited patiently beside the fountain. Sometimes he strolled a few steps in a direction, then turned around and sauntered back. Hearing the splashing sound of the fountain, he hummed a tune in his low voice.

  He had all the time in the worlds; there was no need to hurry. His friend was running late, which seemed a little peculiar, albeit understandable in the given situation. Yverion glanced around with ocean-green eyes; his white hair and beard swirled around as if they were made of waves. His naked upper body glittered in the light, as if it were covered with salt. His breeches reached just under his knees, and it seemed that they were made of fish scales. Around his naked feet, beads of water sparkled.

  Yverion’s whole appearance emitted the powerful force of the ocean.

  Then a sweet scent hit his nose, which made him turn around. From behind a suddenly blooming bush, Setal stepped out, heading for him with swift movements. In his every step, flowers and other little plants popped out from the ground, then faded away almost immediately, as if their life was quickened up. As he looked up, worry shone in his brown eyes.

  “Well?” Yverion broke the silence.

  Their last meeting had happened some time ago; since then, everybody had their own business to worry about. Which became one of the reasons that made the God of Seas uneasy and curious at the same time. After he got the invitation from the God of Light, it would most probably mean only one thing—he would want another alliance. The question was, why?

  “Well what?” snapped Setal, but he calmed himself down. He had a tendency to bite sooner than he should; everybody knew that. His fiery temper sometimes got the better of him, and in those times his words could sting more than any of his spiky plants.

  He took a deep breath as he glanced at a blooming bush beside him which grew from the ground, reacting to his presence.

  Yverion did not hurry him; he just waited.

  “This whole thing went too far.” Setal broke the momentary silence as he ruffled his short brown hair, tossing around a few leaves which stuck out of it. He started to pace nervously. “This never should have happened.”

  “Indeed. Lexénia was faster,” rumbled Yverion with a voice sounding like rocks crumbling in the waves.

  “We must do something!” cried out the Guardian of Plantlife.

  “But what? We made a wow at the creation, and according to that, we cannot interfere with the lives of the mortals, which—”

  “—which we never keep,” cut in the other God with a shrug. “But if we let them continue like this, then they will discover …”

  “You do know that I said it before: this will not end well.”

  “And what do you want from me now?” snapped Setal again. His eyes flared up as he clenched a fist.

  “I? Nothing. Maybe that after you and the others did not listen to me, then don’t come to me looking for answers this time.”

  Yverion seemed to behave as stubborn and difficult as he could be. Maybe he would even decline Setal’s ask, which made him almost beg.

  “If we let this happen … If we let Neila … Then …”

  “Then they will know that you lied to them. As I mentioned, you three. I told you before, this was not a good idea. No secret stays covered; everything will come to light sooner or later. There was no promise which has never been broken after a while. As the ice will crumble mountains, it is only a matter of time.”

  “So the sirens and sea dragons know? You lied to us?”

  Yverion looked at him with a glance that made even Setal drop his gaze and turn away. They both knew how awful of an accusation that was.

  Neither of them could really lie to one another, just as they were equal in their powers too. This lay behind the reasons why they created the worlds and their inhabitants so many years ago. They wanted to decide which force was the strongest—Life or Death? So they created the different lands and set up their little experiment.

  The Lost Wars broke out.

  The Wars lasted through many years, with several breaks between battles, gobbling up many species. At the end, seemingly Life had won, but Lexénia was never satisfied with the results. Nothing looked clear, so she planned and plotted, trying to create another situation in which she could emerge victorious.

  So she stood against the destruction of their subjects, although she did not have to argue very loudly. As tim
e passed, none of the Gods wanted to destroy what they had created. They became attached to them—the lands and species, which they divided according to their preferences. Each of them became the sole ‘ruler’ in their chosen terrain, and it was obvious that nobody else could take over anything that lived in the others’ ‘empire’. This meant that even though many plants or animals lived in the waters all around, above them Yverion had the right to rule, not Setal or Arisha.

  Setal knew this perfectly, of course. Yet the possibility also arose that Yverion’s subjects knew something. The Creators took a vow at the beginning, albeit the Guardian of Seas always stood against that. So maybe he told the truth in his empire. He denied it, however, every time this came up.

  Still, Setal now felt unsure.

  “I did not hear that,” rumbled Yverion, turning his head away. It was clear how upset and offended he became by this accusation.

  “I’m sorry … But …”

  “But after YOU made a mistake, you cannot bear that somebody didn’t.”

  Setal could not answer. There lay some truth in those words.

  “Right now this is not the main problem. The question is: what do we do now?” The Protector of Light turned the discussion in another direction.

  “Have you spoken with the others? This affects everybody.”

  “With Arisha, yes. She said that she changed her mind, so she will be happy when this gets out. So basically she will do nothing. As for Lexénia, I don’t think she is interested at all. She plots against me again. I only wait for the Overlord to show up.”

  “I do not understand why you keep this up still. What is the purpose now?” asked Yverion with a strange voice, but the other God just shrugged.

  “The usual—she wants to prove that she can defeat me.”

  “And it really seems that this time she will succeed,” assumed the God of Seas, which made the other scoff.

  “Anyhow,” continued Setal, “in that matter I was defeated, as I can see. I can do nothing but wait.”

  “Unless it turns out that Lexénia agrees with you.”

  The Guardian of Good gave him such a glance that it made him cough nervously, then continued.

  “Do you know what kind of results this may cause?”

  “Honestly …” Setal sighed. “I have no idea. But do you? We might be called gods, but we are not all-knowing.”

  “True enough. One thing is for sure: I would NOT be a drop on one of your plants when Neila demands answers from you about this.”

  With this, Yverion bowed faintly, then left. As he disappeared, the salty scent of the oceans disappeared with him.

  Setal stood alone, staring into the distance. Around him, constantly sprouted and shrivelled his plants. As he glanced around, he spotted on a leaf a drop, sparkling in the light—a heritage of the God of Seas. As he looked at it, he had to admit: he too would want to miss the moment when Neila demanded answers …

  28. The lost tribe

  “Say what now?” asked Neila, blinking. She glanced at Veilon beside her, who also just stared at the stranger in front of them. Halgor and Enargit frowned, their eyes’ sternness showing that they were thinking hard to solve this mystery.

  Meanwhile, the newcomer waited patiently, saying nothing more until it was his turn.

  “This is a nomad kobold,” repeated the paragon, whispering in disbelief.

  “Enargit?” Neila turned to the shadow dragon, for which she earned a disapproving glance from the Ruler and Halgor as well. Not that she cared, but when she saw the unsure look on the reptile, she became even more skittish.

  The Leader seemed stunned. When he did not answer, the Master turned back to the stranger.

  “What is happening …?” she moaned desperately.

  Somehow she seemed collapsed, as if everything had fallen apart inside her mind. Seeing this, Halgor and Veilon both glanced at her worryingly. They never forgot about the stranger either, who just stood there with folded arms, waiting for them to calm down. If the paragon was right, he was a kobold also, which should make them feel safe. On the other hand …

  Nobody can be sure enough, thought Veilon. He put his arm around Neila’s waist, which soothed her immediately, although she did not seem to be aware of the motion. Anyhow, she was less jumpy after a few moments, which made the kobold smile, and he let her go before Halgor noticed anything.

  “Now what?” Halgor broke the momentary silence, glancing at the others.

  “We should talk to him,” said Enargit, so Veilon stepped forwards.

  The stranger raised his head at this; he obviously waited for them to make the first move.

  “Who do you be?” asked the Ruler, using the nomad’s accent which the others did not understand, even though all of them spoke the kobold tongue.

  At least, until that moment they thought so. But as it turned out, they only knew the paragon’s language, who had the bigger numbers of the two races. The nomads spoke it only because they did not like them to speak their unique accent. It made them think that the paragons mocked them, in which might lay some truth. So the nomads swallowed their pride in this matter, and whenever rare times they must speak with their distant cousins, they used their dialect.

  However, some exceptions existed from under this rule, like Veilon, who spoke both. The Ruler originally learned it for fun, then never let an opportunity slip when he could tease the nomads as he could speak more correctly than some of them. Furthermore, it seemed to be a very useful tool after he decided to take over the other race as well. His calculations proved right—the nomads took it as a huge compliment when he could speak to them in their own capital, as if he were born there. Some of the most powerful kobolds just loved this gesture.

  So Veilon switched to nomad immediately when he heard how the stranger talked. Even if he still might not understand a word, it was worth a try. It was the older dialect from the two, which meant that none of the others would understand the discussion. But that was a price the companions ought to pay.

  “We bringin peace with.” They heard Veilon’s smooth voice in the dark. Neila discovered that the stranger tilted his head, as if he were listening intently.

  “Y’ar looking thy dracos?” asked the stranger, almost utterly inexplicable.

  “Yay, them. Thy ar our friends, an bekam lost in thy forest. We arn’t know thy way here.”

  “Wii hav found, thy ar at tribe with us. Ey come do leed ya der.”

  “I don’t like this. We won’t understand a thing,” whispered Halgor, frowning, as he listened to the kobold’s questions.

  “You mean, you don’t trust him to tell us everything,” growled Neila, so he rather fell silent.

  “Do not worry yourself, elven, I will fill it out for you,” murmured Enargit, which only deepened his unease. Especially since the reptile too seemed lost a bit.

  “I now talking with my frends, if y’ar algood,” said the paragon. The stranger spoke slowly, still a little bit faster than Veilon would have liked. It took a few moments for him to put together the meaning. He then turned to the others.

  “He has the dragons, but don’t ask me how or why.”

  “Will he lead us there? How can we know that this isn’t some kind of trap?” argued Halgor.

  “I don’t think so. You see, back in the Golden Tower I came across an old book which said that there was another kobold group who had left the original Homeland. According to the legends, they vanished, and nobody heard from them since. Not even the late queen thought that they existed. Who knows how true these stories are …”

  “They are true,” cut in Enargit softly. “Kobolds do live here, in these lands.”

  “How do you know?” asked Halgor suspiciously, but it seemed that the dragon shut his jaws and did not even recognise the elven’s existence.

  Neila’s sparkling eyes showed that she too found the happenings very interesting, so she probably thought about asking the dragon herself when they could catch a moment alone.

 
Veilon also wanted to do so, but seeing how the dragon reacted to Halgor, he decided to stay silent.

  “Shall we go now?” he asked, bringing everybody back to the present. The others just shrugged, or nodded, although Neila opened her mouth to say something.

  “What else can we do?” she asked, stepping forwards to the stranger. “You should ask how much time this will take. Walking on the ground with dragons.”

  Veilon opened his mouth, then shut it again. He rather just sighed, turning again to the stranger, who waited patiently. As he and Neila discussed some things with him, Enargit told the happenings to the other two dragons.

  The reptiles stayed behind the scenes, saying nothing, and only watched. As it turned out, they truly did not think that the others would be in any danger. Everything will be all right, they said.

  “He says that it will be dawn when we reach our destination,” Veilon translated to Neila, after he managed to find out what he intended. Even a single question took him several tries, asking something over and over again.

  So Neila waved for the others to join them. They all gathered around their new guide, who then started forwards into the woods.

  Although the companions would never say a word out loud, walking in an unknown forest during the night, blindly trusting a stranger only because they had no other choice, had sharpened even Enargit’s senses. His eyes darted around, trying to see where danger lurked.

  However, it proved to be unnecessary. They had nothing to fear, not even to stumble into a branch or rock on the ground. Their guide warned them about everything in time, as they moved in the thicket.

  A little later they started to follow a narrow but obvious trail through the forest. It led them deeper into the woods, sometimes crossing little streams or empty ditches with wooden bridges.