Fate of Thorik

by Anthony G. Wedgeworth

As instructed by Grewen, Thorik led the Nums along the shoreline street toward the Crab Pot Inn. Glistening ribbons of color danced high in the atmosphere extending from the Lu’Tythis Tower. They had seen the distant flowing lights every cloudless night since they had left Kingsfoot. The locals thought nothing of it, but Thorik and Avanda were always captivated by the beautiful light show. He recalled the first time he had seen the tower after exiting the pass. Memories of Em revealed images of them cuddling together as they watched the tower’s lights. It seemed so long ago. Only a month or so had passed, yet he felt he had experienced a lifetime of adventures. “She would have loved to have seen them this close to the tower,” he mumbled to himself.

  Reaching the Inn, Thorik opened the front door, which led them into a grand room supporting dining and drinks. Thick wooden beams arched up the walls to the peak in the center of the ceiling. A large open fireplace was the primary light, with scattered lanterns attempting to back it up. Wet fishing nets dried on large rusty hooks and crab baskets hung from the walls along with several trophy-sized crab skeletons. Some were larger than Thorik and had pinchers the length of his arm.

  The room smelled of seafood and ale. Pungent, but not to the point of being unbearable. The dozen or so diners didn’t seem to complain as they broke open crab legs ripe with meat.

  Ambrosius sat at one of the tables along the far wall from the fireplace. It was poorly lit and isolated from the patrons who sat among the other tables. He was quiet and reserved, bringing no attention to himself as he kept his face in the shadows.

  Thorik walked over to him, but wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. The last time they had seen each other Ambrosius was destroying the northern Woodlen City of Pyrth and its residents along with it.

  Ambrosius looked up and noticed the group approach him. He smiled and rose to his feet. “Welcome to Pelonthal City, my friends. I am glad to see you are all well. Especially you, Gluic. I had heard that you had passed away.”

  She smiled at the sentiment. “Who’s to say I hadn’t?”

  Ambrosius wasn’t sure how to take her comment, so he redirected the conversation to Thorik. “Your travels have been long and far. It is good to see you have saved Gluic and Brimmelle. What came of Grewen’s fate?”

  “Avanda and I broke him out of the Coliseum Melee Matches. He is here with Draq, currently visiting family to arrange for transportation.”

  “So the stories are true. I heard word that the Coliseum magically awoke and attacked its attending audience with a life of its own. I could only hope that it was your doing in saving Grewen. You have done well, my friend.”

  The words bothered Thorik. He turned to his grandmother. “Granna, can you and Uncle Brimmelle please secure rooms for us and put Avanda to bed. I need to talk to Ambrosius.”

  Afraid she would miss some excitement, Avanda protested slightly as Gluic pulled her from the table and to the innkeeper before heading up to their rooms.

  Brimmelle stayed at the table for a moment shaking his head at Ambrosius. “I have nothing to say to him anyway. He’s the cause of all our problems,” he said to Thorik in a fatherly way. The Fir was exhausted from the day’s travel and didn’t have it in him to argue any further. Wishing to clean the dried mud and clay from his clothes, he turned and went up to the rooms with his mother.

  Thorik snapped back toward Ambrosius. “Get this straight.” He leaned forward onto the edge of the table. “I have not ‘done well’. I have done nothing but what I had to, because of your attack on Pyrth and on helpless innocent people. We wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for your uncontrolled anger and reckless disregard for others in your pursuit to take revenge on Darkmere.”

  Ambrosius was solemn in his response as he relaxed in his chair. “You don’t understand Thorik, it is very complicated.”

  Thorik’s fists flexed. “I am tired of being told it’s complicated. It’s an easy way out for you to defend your actions. In your mind, the end justifies those who get hurt. But you don’t want to be held responsible for those details. You want the recognition of the final result, hoping that everyone in the end will forgive and forget what it took to accomplish it, as well as those who died in your wake.”

  Ambrosius kept his voice low, hoping to encourage Thorik to do the same. “That is not true.”

  “Oh no? Then what are you doing here?” Thorik’s voice had raised instead of lowered. “Brimmelle’s captors would have rolled right past this province toward Southwind while you sat here in this inn. You made no attempt to save him!”

  “It wouldn’t have done any good to save him if he and tens of thousands of others would die just a few weeks later from Darkmere’s attack. Now lower your voice,” Ambrosius said sternly while keeping his own intensity at bay. He didn’t like the attention they were gathering from the nearby diners.

  “I will not! Not until you provide me with an answer of substance.” He stood up straight and continued, “I trusted you. I fought for you. I believed in you!”

  Ambrosius glanced back and forth at the other tables, concerned about what might be overheard. He then returned his gaze back to Thorik’s eyes. They looked stronger than before, more assured of himself and less apprehensive. “You have grown during your travels, my friend. I was correct, you know. You will make a great leader someday.” He pulled out the chair next him and motioned to it. “Please sit. I have put you through great dangers. I owe you an explanation.”

  Hesitating at first, the Num sat down at the table while Ambrosius waved the barkeeper over to order drinks. After the drinks had been served, Ambrosius began his story.

  “I was born a prince to the Dovenar Kingdom. My twin brother Tarosius obviously had the same fate. It was our responsibility to keep the Kingdom strong and prosperous. I was educated in the fundamentals of finance and legislation. My brother was educated on military tactics with the desire for him to protect the Dovenar Walls from invasions.”

  “Ru’Mere, the King’s advisor, taught us in the ways of the E’rudites. A skill that has been forbidden in Australis for thousands of years. He had been born an E’rudite and had managed to conceal it throughout his years.”

  “Tarosius embraced his powers of matter alteration and eventually traveled out of the Kingdom for more advanced training by an Oracle named Deleth. I stayed behind and continued my training of gravitational control by Ru’Mere, who taught me massive powers and the responsibility that accompany them. He was a great mentor, leader, and friend.”

  “Tarosius returned years later from his distant training to regain his position and become the next King of our land. He had changed his name to Darkmere, a name Deleth had crowned him with. It wasn’t long before he and King Gorren began their same old disputes. Ultimately Darkmere killed the King, followed by many of the King’s faithful supporters.”

  Thorik tried to absorb this information as quickly as it came at him. “The Terra King, which is Darkmere as well as your brother, killed your father?”

  Ambrosius raised a finger to stop the interruption. He knew that this line of questioning would derail him from saying what he needed to. “Darkmere quickly took strength in the military and began a campaign to rule the Kingdom. Ru’Mere advised our mother, the Queen, to crown me as the new king, providing me with the power to stop Darkmere. When she did, my brother was furious and attacked city after city that supported my throne. Eventually cities followed him out of fear and a separation was created between the northern and southern provinces.”

  The capital city of the Dovenar Kingdom at that time was Maegoth. It sat in the middle of this conflict and was constantly being fought for. A battle of horror rampaged the earth at Maegoth as the final battle of the Civil War. Prominent Alchemists joined Darkmere’s forces and they cast spells of eternal life and mind control onto their warriors, but failed to grant them freedom from pain.”

  “Darkmere’s strategic moves were well played and his army was strong, but we surpassed their efforts with sheer heart an
d desire to win. My army of men and Ov’Unday quickly took control of the battle. However, after realizing that the enemy was not defeated we began to kill the same warriors time after time as they screamed in horror. They began begging for death as they were forced to continue their battle against us. Out of mercy, we dismembered their bodies and decapitated their heads to remove them from this life, but they would not die. Those incapable of fighting anymore stared at us in desperation to end their life, crying in horrific sounds that still haunt us in our nightmares. It was the most unsettling massacre that has ever taken place.”

  “Even some of the Alchemists had a change of heart and began granting death. Darkmere quickly found out about the spell reversals and swiftly killed those Alchemists for such treason.”

  “It took the Great Wave from the lake to rise up and wash the blood from the earth to end the battle. The battlefield, along with the city, now resides underwater in the mouth of River’s Edge.”

  Thorik thought out loud, “Those were the living dead in the river we saw.”

  “Yes. The battle ended thirty years ago on the thirteenth day of the twelfth month. We are less than three weeks from this anniversary.”

  “He’s going to finish the war on the day he left off,” Thorik surmised.

  Ambrosius nodded to confirm Thorik’s words while taking another sip of his ale.

  Thorik’s face still looked puzzled. “But what caused the Great Wave?”

  “We did. Darkmere and I are at fault. I used to blame my brother, but with age I have come to realize that it was both of our stubbornness that drove Ru’Mere to do whatever it took to stop us from killing everyone. Ru’Mere released a wave of water on our battle and was willing to sacrifice both of us and the coastal cities in an effort to save the rest of Australis.”

  Ambrosius continued, “Darkmere was defeated and retreated to the city of Corrock. There he fought for leadership and slowly gained his army of Del’Unday warriors and assassins.”

  “While he trained his military machine, I sought out guidance from Oracle of the North, Feshlan. He instructed me to establish a great council of all creatures. One that would unify the land and bring peace back to Terra Australis after four thousand years. I traveled the land in search of all races, beliefs, species, and clans. Excluding Corrock and Ergrauth, most were willing to at least listen to the idea. The Alchemist Guild joined as well and a several families of the Ov’Unday clan. A few Del’Unday clan cities also joined to keep abreast of our talks. One member from each of the six remaining Dovenar Provinces also attended.”

  “Great strides were taken over the years to bring peace to the land. A decade later, the societies of our people had begun to blend and mesh. Borders began to seem vague and fears started to drop.”

  “Darkmere resisted the movement and sent his vile serpents to uproot our work. However, years of attacks only led to unification and strengthening of the council as they worked together to fight him. He quickly realized his errors and focused on coming after me, knowing that I was the catalyst in organizing his defeat.”

  “I went into hiding and Darkmere faded from the people’s view in his pursuit for my family. He eventually murdered my wife and is still in pursuit of my son. He intends to stop the prophecy which states that my son will cause the death of his son.”

  “Time passed before he returned to his primary mission of total dominance. But this time it would be different. Darkmere discovered a new way to fight the Council. Instead of head on, he would poison them from within. He changed his physical appearance and took on the persona of the Terra King, evading those looking for Darkmere. Through the use of the ancient Mountain King spiritual beliefs, he acquired small bands of locals to infiltrate their own lands and cause pain. He deluded them into believing his interpretation of the scrolls and appointed himself as their new King with the power to carry out the Mountain King’s words.”

  “With this newfound power he used his followers to remind their citizens of the terrors and fears of the past. Mistrust led to prejudice and intolerance. Small scale attacks provoked retaliation of larger ones, only to be returned again. Humans and Altereds parted ways as anger and fear erupted across the land.”

  “The Terra King preached to humans and Nums with words of courage and safety while his alter ego, Darkmere, quietly deceived the Del’Unday on their banishment from the Dovenar Kingdom as he prepared them for war.”

  “Allegations of bigotry climbed all the way up to the Grand Council. Key members that spoke openly against each other began to mysteriously die. This validated that members of the council couldn’t be trusted. No longer was there a safe haven to hold meetings, and so it was disbanded.”

  “Authority over individual cities was splintered and marshal law took hold. Chaos ruled in areas of weak military powers. Humanity was quickly being lost and kinship among species seemed doomed. The Unday were expelled or enslaved in every province except here in Pelonthal, and parts of Southwind and Greensbrook. Humans and Nums were treated no differently in the Del’Unday cities. Our civilization had stepped backward several centuries.”

  “Once I heard of the abandoned council, it took me nearly a year to find a safe location and hold a new meeting. I was able to get a message to Beltrow’s annual trading party while visiting Shoreview. They in turn responded to my contact with a date and location to be escorted to the Temple. It was our last chance to right Darkmere’s wrongs. But again, he circumvented our goals and put an end to peace by destroying the entire council.”

  Ambrosius changed his tone as he stepped away from the story to talk directly to Thorik. “What I did to those people in Pyrth was unfortunate and I will never forgive myself. They were going about their lives in peace, free to live how they wished. But understand my friend; either Darkmere or freedom must die. They cannot coexist.”

  “Unfortunate?” Thorik’s face tightened at Ambrosius’ attempt to not fully apologize for his actions. “How do you justify your actions as unfortunate?”

  Ambrosius relaxed again into his chair and looked straight into the Num’s eyes. “There will come a day when you must make choices and take actions that may seem wrong to your closest friends, and even yourself, but you must do them anyway for the better of all mankind. If I had stopped my brother on that day, I could have saved hundreds of thousands of lives. Now they are all still in jeopardy.”

  “But you hurt others in your failed attempt. I don’t believe that I would have made the same choices as you have,” Thorik replied.

  “And that may be your weakness. You try too hard to please everyone. In doing so you may be putting them all at risk.”

  Thorik didn’t know how this conversation changed to his own flaws. He took a quick sip of his drink and moved back to Ambrosius’ challenges. “So, if you are the Dovenar King, take charge of your land. Re-unite your people to fight Darkmere. Performing this by yourself only pits them against you. It is not the way for a King to rule.”

  Ambrosius took a moment to wet his own dry throat. He also took the opportunity to look about for others listening to the conversation. All was clear. He leaned forward and talked softly.

  “I am not the rightful King. I am an E’rudite. I have not enough human bloodline to support it. You see, just before the battle of Maegoth, I discovered that for us to have E’rudite powers, our parents must have them as well. My mother didn’t, nor did the King. It was Ru’Mere who claimed this ability and therefore was our true father. Our mother, Rubecca, and Ru’Mere had fallen in love prior to her being forced to marry Gorren. She was pregnant at their wedding, but early enough along to assume we were Gorren’s children. To give up this information would have caused the deaths of Ru’Mere, Tarosius, myself and our mother. So everyone remained silent.”

  “So there is no rightful King?” Thorik asked.

  Ambrosius stroked his beard. “There is another Dovenar family line that gave birth to a royal child. But that young man is not ready for the throne.”
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br />   Thorik questioned his thinking. “Your mother was still the Queen, why can’t you rule? Why does your E’rudite blood scar over this option?”

  Ambrosius realized Thorik’s misunderstanding and looked for a way to put it into perspective for him. “Fir Brimmelle has absolute power in your village of Farbank and look at how it has affected his relationships with others.” He raised his hand to prevent any protest from Thorik. “Hear me out on this.”

  “Imagine if he also had the power of an E’rudite. Fear and resentment would begin to brew by those he ordered. Eventually his powers would have to be used to stop those that would see him overthrown. Use of his powers would only perpetuate the issue. He would eventually have to rule as a god or be killed. He would have no choice. There is no middle ground to stand on.”

  “My brother and I should have never been given the Kingdom in the first place. It has disrupted the entire land. The time of the E’rudites is over and we should not exist anymore. The Alchemists have lost strength every generation since the master book of spells, Vesik, was lost in the Govi Glade. They too will be a thing of the past.”

  “I am the only one that can stop Darkmere from taking over Australis. I must do this to allow the land to evolve naturally. It will soon be time for the rightful King to take the throne and for men, Nums, Ov’Unday and Del’Unday to live together.”

  Thorik cocked his head slightly. “Who is the rightful King?”

  “I cannot say without putting his life in danger. He is out among the people and gaining allies as we speak. He will be ready once Darkmere and I are gone. All that is left for me to do is to find Darkmere before thirteenth day of the twelfth month.”

  Thorik folded his napkin into a perfect triangle and set it up against the corner of the table as he watched Ambrosius quench his parched mouth after all his talking. Adjusting the napkin to line it up with the table’s edge, Thorik asked, “Did you believe it was fate that I found you on the King’s River shoreline, or was that just a lie to get me to help you?”

  Ambrosius’ face saddened as he set his mug down. The smell of ale filled the table as he exhaled deeply. “Obviously it was a lie, my friend.” He lowered his eyes. “Otherwise we would have found Darkmere in time. But with no leads and only a few weeks to go, I don’t see how this can be accomplished.” Raising his eyes back up to meet Thorik’s, Ambrosius said with all sincerity, “I am sorry.”

  Thorik nodded. “Thank you for being honest with me. But you are wrong, it was fate. For I know where Darkmere is.”

  Ambrosius wasn’t sure what to make of the response. “Don’t toy with me.”

  “He is traveling to Australis Weirfortus,” Thorik noted.

  Ambrosius’ face sank in disbelief. “Then he has found out how to get in.”

  Chapter 31

  Luthralum Tunia