The Sword and the Shadows_The First Chronicle

by Patrick Kriener

  “Here, he must be near the village down there. Keep your weapons close; we sighted some of those creatures down there. The ones you spoke of.” Yuri and Kullian stood in front of Tablitha, trying to be protective.

  They crossed the paths down the hill, snow covering most of the roads. The cold wind hit them like solid walls, but this did not stop them from finding Vormis.

  “Be attentive, for those beings could be watching us at any time now,” ordered Kullian. He kept up the complaints along the way. Yuri and Tablitha tried to ignore him. Yuri tried to feel more like the leader.

  “Wait... I hear a shout! Vormis’ voice!” Tablitha sprinted to a nearby cottage. Rubble and ash filled the stone ground, where all the snow melted away. The flames became weak and smoke rose in its stead.

  A black and long, iron boot stepped out of the cottage. The face was most disturbing, with no facial features but a dark complexion with eyes that shone pale white to their view.

  “Who are you... or what are you?” Yuri whispered as he pushed Kullian aside, reaching Tablitha.

  The dark figure revealed itself to them and showed its full body. Armor was covered upon the creature, and it was in its human form. Strange, spiky tips of a helmet completed the sides of its head and it had no sign of communication.

  Yuri looked closer to where the creature came from, seeing beneath it chains and a human hand trying to shove itself out of the heat to reach the snow.

  “Vormis!” cried Kullian. “You cur, give us our friend!”

  Kullian stepped closer and with such bravery, he pointed his sword in the direction of the pitch black face.

  Vormis finally crawled out. He appeared to be stripped from clothing, and was wounded greatly. Blood seeped to the snow as he crawled around, for he had not the strength to pick himself up.

  The creature finally pulled out a mace, with iron nails poking out every half-inch of the steel ball. Yuri jumped from Tablitha’s arms and slashed the creature down before it struck at Vormis. Yuri looked to Vormis and pulled him up with all his strength.

  “Look out!” Tablitha screamed and started chopping her sword at the creature. Yuri backed off and saw it was well trained in combat.

  “Kullian, get Vormis back to the horses... now!” Yuri tried to get a good shot at the dark creature as he held a small dagger in his hand.

  Tablitha continued waving the blade at it. “Tablitha, get down!” She flattened herself quickly to the surface. Yuri threw his dagger as it stabbed into its neck.

  Yuri ran to Tablitha and got her up. The creature could not yet speak, having no means of communication.

  Yuri grabbed it by the neck, and took his fist, pummeling it constantly. Black blood filled Yuri’s face, though that did not stop the fists breaking through the bones in the strange black void of its face. He finally threw it down, kicking at it.

  “Yuri, please stop this! We have to go back!” Yuri sat on the snow and pushed the legs of the being away.

  “What are they?” Yuri asked as he looked at Tablitha, breathing hard. He felt heat fill his face, as sweat poured down his neck and hair.

  “They are the Ancients, an accursed-” Tablitha suddenly stopped, thinking she heard something.

  “It seems when we return, you will need some answers,” Yuri spoke as he looked at Tablitha agreeing.

  In front of the creature’s dead body appeared five other ones of the same look.

  “Get out of here! Run!” Yuri and Tablitha charged back to where the horses were found. They looked behind and saw the black figures take out bows of black wood and arrows with barbs on the end.

  “Stay out of range, and follow!” Tablitha pulled Yuri, and led him for she knew this area better. They hid between boulders as the arrows shattered like glass against the rocks.

  Tablitha shouted out Kullian’s name. Vormis was with him.

  Yuri heard the hoofs of the horse plant on the grass. He looked up and saw Kullian holding the reigns of a gray horse.

  “Here, get on... Vormis is safe!” Kullian pulled with him, two other reigns from the horses. Tablitha jumped on her horse as Yuri did the same. Adrenaline ran through Yuri, as he felt different.

  “Are you well, Vormis?” The small man could hardly speak, for he was so wounded badly. Kullian covered him with a fur warm fur coat. The arrows receded and the four sped out of the town safely.

  “Where to now?” asked Kullian.

  “We go back to the temple,” replied Yuri. “Either way, our objective is burned down and gone.” Yuri felt no promises to his assistants, as he ran through the snow; all of the four appeared to be safe, for now.

  Chapter Nineteen: Adventure’s Horizon

  B erek nodded to Helen and stood up, shaking his body. He stretched his muscles and flexed. He found that he was very stiff in the neck and the arms after the battle with Seraph. Though, Berek was glad to be back at Skyhallow Temple, after his enduring missions.

  “May I ask, Berek, how you came to be here?” asked Helen suddenly.

  “Yes, I suppose I should explain myself,” Berek said embarrassingly. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  Helen smiled politely and touched his shoulder. “I didn’t think you were.”

  Berek smiled and continued. “My past is a lot similar to yours. I lived in Belmar all my life. My parents owned a small cottage west of here, at the very foot of the Spine. One day, I was visited by a demon in my dreams. My youthful state and imagination led me to believe that I was to follow this demon.

  “I found myself climbing the Spine where I ended up here at this very temple. I met Jarem and explained to him my dreams. He discarded it, but explained to me about the demon I discovered. The demon was Melageth, and his minions were the creatures we fought at Wyndal, but in human form. They are called the Ancients, and can take any form they wish. They...” Berek hesitated, “killed my parents.”

  “I am so sorry,” said Helen, and she looked like she meant it. She put a hand to his cheek and held it there, sadness filling her eyes. Berek looked back into her green eyes, filling himself with her beauty.

  He continued, “I then joined the Shieldvanes here, in an effort to seek vengeance against the Ancients and their leader, Melageth.”

  “But the Ancients at Wyndal...what were they seeking?”

  “Seraph asked me where we hid the Crystal. I think they’re looking for the Crystal of Melageth. You see, Melageth was imprisoned in a golden crystal, and is buried somewhere under this mountain. Only Jarem knows where. Perhaps Seraph wants it, to resurrect his old master. But no matter the reason, they aren’t getting that Crystal.”

  “Spoken like a true Shieldvane,” said a voice. Berek turned and faced the doorway, from which the sound had come.

  Jarem stood there, a smile upon his face. “I thought I requested your presence, as soon as you woke up?”

  “I’m sorry, sir-“

  “No matter,” quickly replied Jarem with a wave of his hand. He turned and faced Helen. “Would you excuse us?”

  “Of course,” replied Helen. She took one last gaze at Berek, and then left the room. Jarem watched her go, and then returned his eyes to Berek.

  “All that you have spoken is true. Seraph was indeed looking for the Crystal.”

  “I know sir,” replied Berek. “But why Wyndal?”

  “The mayor of Wyndal and the mayor of Belmar have close connections. Also, Wyndal is close to a mountain range, the Cronus Mountains. Perhaps Seraph confused himself.”

  “I see,” replied Berek. “What did you want me for?”

  “Ah, yes. Come.” Berek walked out of the door, as Jarem walked behind him. Berek led himself and Jarem to the main room of the Temple, from which ten years ago, Jarem told young Berek about Melageth. Berek sat at the long, wooden table, as Jarem stood in front of him.

  “Do you recall the day of your father’s death?” asked Jarem, with a hint of apprehension and sadness.

  “I do,” replied Berek, looking down. His voice had lowered. �
�I think of it every day.”

  “Do you remember his final words?”

  “Yes, something like ‘Seek out Dawnfrost’ or something. I dismissed it as fool talk, for men turn foolish in the hour of their death.”

  Jarem grinned. “Oh, it was no foolish talk. This Dawnfrost he spoke of is a legend of Alundiel. Avrendur, one of the Four Guardian Gods, maintained control of the elements water and ice. In his hope to defeat the enemies of Alundiel, he forged a weapon of these elements. This weapon was a sword, a sword of ice and water. It is made with the strongest of any metal, stronger than our own katanas: Blurite.”

  “And this sword?” asked Berek. “Does it have a name?”

  “Oh yes. Some call it Melageth’s Bane. Others call it...Dawnfrost.”

  Berek gasped. “So my father was no fool!”

  “No!” hissed Jarem. “Not at all. Let me explain. Avrendur and Melageth were sworn enemies. Avrendur created this sword, knowing Melageth’s scheme to destroy the other gods. But at the moment of its finishing, Melageth initiated his plan, and destroyed Avrendur. But before perishing, Avrendur hid the sword somehow. No one knows where Dawnfrost may be found...except one.”

  “My father,” said Berek, realizing.

  “Your father,” repeated Jarem, grinning. “However, he is dead. You must go back to your home, and find some clues, some hidden riddle that may lead you to Dawnfrost. For you see, the Ancients cannot be truly destroyed by conventional weaponry. They merely revive themselves within the hour. But this blade will annihilate them forever. Without Dawnfrost I fear, we will never destroy the Ancients once and for all.”

  “I understand,” replied Berek. “I must find this Dawnfrost, and destroy Seraph and his Ancients.”

  “Yes,” replied Jarem. “That will be your mission. But you cannot hope to do it alone.” Jarem turned around and snapped his hands. Two figures emerged from a door. One was a Crimgurd, his skin ebony and smooth. The other was a very tall man, with pointed ears. He was a Dawn Elf. They were both clad in Shieldvane armor, katanas at their waists. The Crimgurd stepped forward.

  “Well met, Berek Hectorsson,” he said, holding out his hand. Berek took it and shook. He faced the Dawn Elf, who looked like he wanted nothing more than to leave the area.

  “My name is Roark,” said the Crimgurd. “This is Aleazar,” he continued, motioning to the elf.

  “Good day,” sneered the elf, only looking at Berek once, and then pointing his nose in the air.

  “They will be accompanying you on your quest,” said Jarem.

  “I would like to come as well,” said a voice, as Berek saw Helen walking out of a corner.

  “Yes, you would be a good asset,” said Berek. Aleazar scoffed. “Something wrong?” asked Berek, a hard look on his face.

  “If I’m going, I want none of these Dwa’iin’s gaudiness,” replied Aleazar.

  “Enough,” said Roark, putting a hand on the elf’s shoulder. “We are all well-met, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, I should think so,” answered Berek, still glaring at Aleazar.

  After a moment, Jarem broke the silence. “Good, well, you have your mission. Off with the lot of you.”

  “Yes sir,” all replied. Berek led his team outside to the courtyards. He passed by the Shieldvanes, training with their swords.

  “Good day, Berek!” shouted the training Shieldvanes.

  “Good day, all!” said Berek, smiling.

  “Ah, wonderful,” said Aleazar sarcastically. “We have a celebrity.”

  Helen heard this and smacked the elf on the arm. Berek rolled his eyes and walked out of the temple, and out of the fort. Four horses were already prepared for them. Berek took a brown horse, with a white spot on its stomach. Its name was Eclipse. After all of them mounted their horses, Berek nodded to each of them, and rode off into the day, hoping to find the sword and claim glory.

  He didn’t know how dangerous that would soon become.

  Chapter Twenty: Hector’s Riddle

  B erek led his team down the Spine as the summer wind hit him hard. He felt a nice breeze while galloping down the mountain. Eclipse was as fast a horse as any, and she was strong. As Berek was riding, Helen galloping quickly to ride next to him.

  “Berek, why are we going to your father’s house if it is...”

  “Destroyed?” asked Berek, finishing her sentence.

  “Yes.”

  “My father knew something about this sword, Dawnfrost. Hopefully, among the ruin, we will find a clue of some sort, which may lead us to Dawnfrost.”

  “Why are we searching for the cursed thing anyways?” asked Aleazar disgustedly.

  “Dawnfrost is the only sword that vanquishes the Ancients once and for all,” replied Berek.

  “Good, the best Ancient is a dead Ancient,” inputted Roark. Berek nodded, being proud of his answer. As they neared the bottom of the mountain, Berek slowed Eclipse to a halt. He searched the landscape, looking for his old house. Finally, he discovered it.

  It was a pile of bricks. It looked very old and was reduced to ruins. Sticks and stones were protruding from the ground. Blackened charcoal was surrounded on all sides, along with ash and broken debris. Berek felt a tear fall down his face, as he remembered the horror that happened ten years prior. Roark came up to Berek, putting a hand on him.

  “I know it is hard for you, but we must do it,” said the Crimgurd.

  “I know,” replied Berek, shaking himself. “Let’s go.” Berek led his group closer and closer to the obstruction. When they finally reached it, Berek stepped off of Eclipse and stepped through what was left of the door. Dirt, instead of stone, was laid out all along the perimeter. Berek searched through the ashes and debris, looking for some kind of clue. Berek wondered why Jarem had ordered him to come here. After all, his home was destroyed and all evidence or clues had to be gone as well.

  Aleazar kicked a board in the corner. “There’s nothing here! The old fool was wrong.”

  “Shut up!” yelled Helen. She walked next to Berek, placing both of her hands on his shoulders. “Find anything?”

  “No,” replied Berek, “and I don’t plan to.”

  All of them sighed at the same time. Soon, after countless searching and looking for clues, the sun fell and night filled their vision. This quest was all for naught. They weren’t expected to find anything. Berek sat next to Helen, staring into the fire they had made. It became cold during the afterhours of day, and fire was a rarity. Berek warmed his hands and himself, leaning back against the dirt.

  “We’ll find something, don’t worry,” said Helen suddenly.

  “I doubt it,” replied Berek sadly, “but thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Berek, whatever became of your mother?”

  “On the night of the attack, my father told me one of the Ancients grabbed her and flew off into the night. It probably took her to its nest to feed, and...”

  “I am so sorry,” said Helen. She was quite beautiful in the light of the fire.

  “I understand. I-“

  “Berek!” yelled Roark from across the house. “Come look!”

  Berek looked at Helen and nodded. He stood up, following the sound of Roark’s voice. He found the Crimgurd standing next to Aleazar. They were standing over a small circular gate on the ground. Berek neared closer and looked down at it, seeing nothing of importance.

  “What?” asked Berek. “What is it?”

  “This,” said Roark, pointing to the gate.

  “It’s just an old sewer gate; my father used to dump our wastes down there.”

  Aleazar groaned angrily and came close to Berek. Berek put his hand on his blade, ready to attack Aleazar if he attacked him. However, with quick speed, Aleazar snatched an object from Berek’s boot. Aleazar held it up to Berek’s face and he saw what it was: Sufferthorn.

  “Give me my dagger, elf!” said Berek through gritted teeth.

  “You Dwa’iin are so blind!” said Aleazar with the rudest tone possible. He turned back
to the sewer gate. He crouched down and placed Sufferthorn on its surface. Berek looked closer and saw that on the surface of the sewer gate was an outline of a dagger, almost like a keyhole. Aleazar plunged Sufferthorn into this outline or keyhole and stepped back.

  Suddenly, the sewer gate began to turn by itself. It unscrewed itself from the ground, growing taller and taller. Finally, the gate popped out of the ground and a deep, black hole took its place. Aleazar went to the fallen gate and pulled out Sufferthorn, handing it back to Berek with a smirk.

  “Well...at least I...,” mumbled Berek, but Aleazar continued to gloat. Roark rolled his eyes, took his torch and crouched next to the hole. He shined the torch, providing enough light to see. A metal ladder went from the top and further down, where it was too dark to see.

  “Wasn’t that dagger your father’s?” asked Helen.

  “Yes, but, I never saw him do this to the sewer gate,” replied Berek.

  “Perhaps he didn’t want you to see,” said Roark. “Perhaps this is his riddle. When I found this gate, it was covered with sticks and grass. This must have meant he was hiding something. A clue maybe?”

  “So you’re saying we have to go down that dark hole?” asked Berek. “And into the sewers?”

  “What does it look like?” asked Aleazar sarcastically. He then was the first to climb down the ladder and into the dark hole. Berek took a deep breath and followed his comrade. All of them were on the ladder, as Roark took the sewer gate and closed it when he was on the ladder. Berek descended further and further down, not knowing what dangers awaited him.

  Chapter Twenty-One: The Tunnel

  I t was a long and harsh climb down the metal ladder. Berek felt the temperature drop as he climbed each step down. He felt cold and damp. He let out a quick breath and saw his own breath, for it was that cold. Finally, after several minutes, Berek heard a plop and knew Aleazar had reached the bottom. Aleazar let out a groan of disgust. Berek then reached the bottom and found there was water. Muck and sewage surrounded his boot, and there was a stench of dead things filling his nostrils. He held a hand to cover his nose, but Roark pulled it away.