The Sword and the Shadows_The First Chronicle

by Patrick Kriener

  His father had to be some sort of genius to make this great room. It was as if Avrendur himself had built this room...

  “Amazing,” whispered Berek in awe. His eyes found themselves looking ahead, for a wide space was seen. In the space was an altar, with small steps leading up to it. On either side were recesses and niches with artifacts of old filling their space. A strange white light came down from the ceiling and was striking the altar at its center. Berek gazed upward and noticed something strange; the light was not coming from the sky up above. The ceiling seemed to be making its own light.

  Berek walked forward across the long hallway-like structure leading to the sword. Torches with flames of strong power were placed along the sides of the hallway. Berek walked all the way down. Finally, he reached the altar.

  There it was: Dawnfrost, the Sword of Ice, Bane of the Ancients, lying on its side on the altar. A thick cloth was lying under it. Its hilt was silver with a blue sapphire implanted at the end of the sword. The sword itself was teal and gave off a strange blue glow. The tip of it was quite sharp it seemed. It was double-edged and short in length; longer than a dagger, but shorter than a regular sword. Berek marveled in its glory. This was it; his quest was at an end. Berek let the tips of his fingers touch the hilt as he picked it up and held it aloft. Berek smiled and was glad of this.

  The rumbling noise came again.

  Berek turned around quickly and saw a strange light emitting from the white door, several yards away. The light was red and yellow, and seemed to have tints of black in it. Suddenly, an unearthly growl was heard. Berek held out Dawnfrost in defense, as he got ready for some kind of attack.

  Suddenly, bursting through the wall at the end of the room, a large monstrosity came in. It stood over ten feet tall; black scales were shown in the light. The face itself had many horns and white eyes, perhaps the same eyes as the Ancients, gleamed down at Berek. This was perhaps something Seraph left Berek behind.

  It seemed to look like an over-sized Ancient. It roared again and stomped across the room as it made for Berek. It pulled back a mighty fist and brought it down at Berek’s location. Quickly rolling out of the way, the Ancient slammed its fist and the altar crumbled in its wake. Berek felt a strange fury rising in him; this Ancient had defiled the Temple of Avrendur and broke the Altar of Dawnfrost. Berek yelled and rushed to the creature’s feet.

  He chopped and hewed with a wild anger. Black blood poured across the room. The monster yelled in terror and seized Berek by his stomach. Berek dropped Dawnfrost and it fell to the ground with a clatter. Berek pounded the creatures hand with his fists. The creature brought Berek to its face as Berek stared back in its formless, black face. The creature seemed to roar as suddenly an opening appeared near the bottom of its face. This was its mouth, opening wide to reveal more darkness inside.

  The creature brought Berek closer and closer to its mouth. Berek yelled and struggled but it was to no avail; the creature dropped Berek inside its mouth and Berek saw nothing but blackness...

  ***

  Berek was standing in light; all around he was engulfed in a white glow. He thought he was in another one of his dreams; however he knew Melageth had no need for Berek’s dreams. Berek looked around, seeing nothing but white.

  Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He turned around and saw a figure in the distance walking toward him. Berek put a hand to his waist and felt for a sword of some sort; there was nothing. The figure got closer and closer, as Berek stepped backwards.

  “Do not run from me, my boy,” said the figure. He was draped in a long, gray robe and had the hood of the robe pulled over his head. Berek held his ground and got ready to fight if need be.

  “There is no need for that,” said the man, as he held out a hand.

  Berek felt his body loosen and grow less tense. “Who are you?” he yelled.

  “I am known by many names,” said the man. “But I shall reveal my face and you will recognize who I am.” Then the man stood in front of Berek and turned his head upward. He reached up and pulled off his hood.

  There stood Hector, gazing at his son.

  “Father!” cried Berek. “Is this...a dream?”

  “Something similar,” replied Hector in a kind voice. “I have come to reveal many things.”

  “Father,” spoke Berek, falling to his knees. “Mother...she...”

  “I know, son,” replied Hector with sadness. “What a pity. But now, she is at peace and you, my son, have found my sword.”

  “Father, I’m so confused with matters lately. I know nothing anymore.”

  “I am going to tell you everything, from the moment of your birth. Please do not interrupt, for there is much to be said.”

  Berek nodded and motioned for Hector to continue.

  “You know the legend of the gods of Alundiel. How Melageth betrayed them, how Achimus the Just created Dawnfrost.”

  “Achimus?” asked Berek.

  “Avrendur is known by many names. Achimus, the Elven variation, and Avrendur, the name in the Common Speech.”

  “I see.”

  “Avrendur created Dawnfrost not just as a weapon, but as a guide of some sorts. Dawnfrost would destroy any Ancient and Melageth himself, for it possessed a power none could fathom. But Melageth destroyed Avrendur, and Avrendur disappeared from Alundiel for a short while.”

  “But I thought he died?”

  “Please, son, let me continue. With no leadership, Eretus Octavium despaired. Melageth took this advantage and led a revolt against Octavium with an army of thousands of Ancients. He marched to meet them. However, something happened. Dawnfrost, the very sword created to destroy Melageth, was discovered again. And with this sword, Eretus Octavium and I locked Melageth in his prison. But that did not stop the Ancients forever. The Ancients scattered themselves across Alundiel.

  “They hid mainly around the Spine, to be there with their master if he should rise again. One Ancient in particular grew in power and strength.”

  “Seraph,” muttered Berek.

  “Indeed,” agreed Hector. “He took over the Ancients and promised them everything if Melageth would be raised. Now he has the Crystal. Now he will march to Wyndal, seek out Ramas Octavium, and take his revenge. You see, the Octavium line must survive; otherwise, Alundiel will wither away into the scrolls of history.”

  “Well, I am going to stop him,” said Berek stoutly.

  Hector smiled and placed a hand on Berek. “I know. You see, Melageth has heard of a power you possess. You possess the very power to destroy him once and for all. Melageth tried bringing you over to his side, by plaguing you dreams and tempting you. But you prevailed, my son.”

  “Thank you, father,” replied Berek, feeling strong. “But what power do I possess?”

  Hector sighed. “I never got the chance to tell you. You may not believe me, and I do not blame you.”

  “Please tell me father!” insisted Berek.

  “Very well,” replied Hector. “When I said Avrendur disappeared, he was not destroyed altogether. Avrendur is a god, but when gods lose their power, they become mortal men. And that is what happened with him.”

  “So who did he become?” asked Berek in wonder.

  “My son, look at the signs. Who kept his sword from others? Who defeated Melageth? Who has the power to speak to you now?”

  Berek gasped in surprise. It all came clear to him now. “Father...you are Avrendur.”

  “I am who I am. I am Avrendur. I am Namathulose. I am Achimus. I am Hector.”

  “But that means...”

  “Yes. You are the son of a god. You possess all my powers. Melageth wants you for this reason. But you must not let him. Now go, son! Rise up and claim your glory!”

  ***

  Suddenly, the white light disappeared and Berek came bursting through a slimy substance. He fell to the ground a heap, while he heard a loud roar. He turned and saw the large Ancient clutching its torso. Blood flowed and entrails came from its stomach. Berek must have bur
st from its stomach after it ate him.

  Berek saw Dawnfrost glow on the ground. He picked it up and gripped it. He walked over to the Ancient and with one fell swoop, he beheaded the Ancient. Berek knew the truth now. And he would use this knowledge and Dawnfrost to defeat Melageth forever.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Berek’s Decision

  A thick and black dust covered the perimeter of the room. From the huge Ancient’s destruction, it left a bad taste in Berek’s throat. The dust swirled around him. He held up Dawnfrost and began to swat the dust away, in order to see clearly. The altar, which the Ancient had crushed with its enormous fist, stood in ruins. Berek felt a sense of anger and revenge. The Ancients had done terrible deeds and seemed they would not leave Berek alone.

  It seemed every day something bad would happen and it would be the Ancient’s fault. It started with the death of his father, then his mother, the annihilation of the Shieldvanes, and finally desecrating the Altar of Dawnfrost. Berek had enough of his plight. He vowed upon the lives of his loved ones, he would stop Seraph and end his evil.

  Minutes passed, and finally the dust cleared away. Berek looked back toward the white door entrance, seeing nothing but rocks and stalagmites covering it. He was caved in. When the huge Ancient had burst through the wall, it had left destruction in its wake. Berek looked around for another entrance but could not find any. The area seemed magnificent and large on a grand scale, but now that Berek knew there was no way getting out, it seemed quite minuscule. The air grew musty and stifling. Berek breathed in deep and hard. He had to think logically.

  He cleared his mind and heart of any fear he had of not escaping the room and walked toward the rubble near the door. Once he reached it, he climbed around it, looking for a trace of a hole for escaping. He could not see any. He started to move the smaller rocks surrounding the bigger ones and began hastily moving them. He pulled a huge rock out of the way, which took most of his strength away. At first, it did not even budge, though after a few pulls, it came loose.

  Suddenly, as the rock let go of its spot, smaller sized rocks quickly filled its space. The bigger rock tumbled down the mound of rocks and hit the granite tiled floor with a resounding sound. The smaller rocks covered up the area the bigger rock had been, taking away Berek’s chance of escape. Berek growled in anger and smashed another rock in frustration. More rocks and stalagmites fell, and Berek had to move backwards to avoid getting hit. He yelled out in fury. There had to be a way out. Some secret way that Jarem did not tell him.

  But there seemed to be none. Berek walked back to the smashed altar and lay there for a while. Many minutes past and still Berek did not move. He was exhausted beyond measure. His body and muscles ached for rest. He laid his head down on a hard rock and closed his eyes for rest. Sleep hit him hard as he drifted off into his dreams.

  A sudden crack erupted in his ears.

  Berek quickly stood up and swiftly turned around to look at the altar. Around the bottom of the altar, thin lines of black appeared. Another cracking sound resounded as larger cracks appeared around the bottom. Suddenly, the altar fell two inches beneath the earth and stopped, as if it was sitting on something hard. Suddenly, the niches and recesses behind it began to shift. Rocks and dust seeped from them as the niches seemed to form a sort of door. A large, black hole stood behind the altar. Berek wondered what he had done, or triggered. It seemed the altar was a lever, or some sort of panel, that whenever pressed downward, this hole would appear. Berek unsheathed Dawnfrost.

  Strangely, Dawnfrost seemed to glow in the darkness with a blue light. Berek waved it back and forth like a torch, watching the blue glow make invisible imprints in the air. Berek stepped over the altar and neared the black hole. Berek stuck Dawnfrost in the hole first, lighting up the area. A long dark tunnel stood before him. Berek stepped in, wondering where it led.

  Black soil, absent of the silver dots from the tunnel before, was on the ground. Berek walked on and on into the tunnel seeing nothing for a good while. Finally he came to a small circular stone, which blocked the hole. However, Berek began pushing his weight against the stone and finally, it fell through. Berek however lost his balance and fell through the hole in the tunnel. He landed on a hard ground. He stood up and looked around.

  It seemed he was in a very small room, but it was brightened with torches aloft and shining objects. He was in a treasure room of sorts. Coins and golden objects of value lay around him. In the middle, stood another altar. However, it seemed nothing was on it, other than an imprint of a circular object. Runes and ancient writings were written across the altar. Berek could not understand the language. However, one word stood out among the rest.

  “Melageth,” read Berek. He then understood. This was the altar in which the Crystal of Melageth had been. But it was not here. Which meant Seraph did indeed have it. But how could he have gotten in? Berek looked around and smiled. A large hole appeared to the left of the room. Berek then climbed up to it. It was another tunnel, however it looked man-made. The dirt and soil looked recently dug, which meant the Seraph and the Ancients had been here and done this deed.

  Berek crawled up to it and crawled in the very small tunnel. He saw a bright light up ahead. He got closer and closer, until he finally reached it. The tunnel had led upward, above the ground. The bright light was the outside snow. Berek had done it. He had escaped from the tunnels.

  He climbed out of the hole and found himself shivering in the cold snow. He looked around. He was further away from the cabin and the Temple than the manhole was. He then walked toward it, pulling his clothes and jerkin close to him for warmth. Finally he reached the back of the cabin. He walked around it and entered. Sitting at a table, which had been pulled back up for it was knocked down, were Yuri, Roark, Helen, and Aleazar.

  “Berek!” cried Helen. She rushed toward him and swept him in a warm embrace. Berek felt tears on his chest, as he knew she was weeping. “Berek...Jarem...he...”

  Yuri stood up. He grabbed Helen softly and pushed her, leading her away from Berek. “You got the sword?” he asked.

  “Yes,” replied Berek, pulling out the magnificent blue weapon. The others gasped in wonder and awe. “Now, tell me, what of Jarem?”

  “Berek...” stammered Yuri. “I stuck with him. I tended to him. But he...passed off into the night. I could do nothing.”

  Berek felt a stab of pain in his heart. He swallowed several times, as he felt tears on the verge of escaping.

  “And...Did he die...peacefully?” asked Berek, his voice breaking.

  Yuri stared at Berek long and hard. “Yes,” said Yuri. “As brave as any warrior would.”

  Berek held a hand to his mouth. All seemed somber and reverent. Even Aleazar had nothing snide to say. Berek sat at the table while the others left him to his thoughts. The old Shieldvanes, Helen, Roark, and Aleazar each walked around the Temple, recalling the adventures and memories they had. Yuri stood outside the cabin door. Berek kept his head down on the table, tears escaping his eyes. He then grabbed Dawnfrost and set it upon the table.

  “What now?” asked Berek to himself. “I cannot stop Seraph by myself and my companions alone. It would take an army.”

  “You’re right,” replied a voice. Berek turned and saw Yuri walking in the cabin. “And an army is just what I have.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Berek.

  “The Shieldvanes were a noble race of warriors,” said Yuri. “But they were few. And now they are no more, save you and the other companions. But my group is strong and many.”

  “The Blood Shadows you mean?” asked Berek.

  Yuri nodded. “Long have we waited for the chance to resurrect Drahk. Now our chance has revealed itself through the Maldark Santorium. But Seraph stole it before I could reclaim it. Seraph has an army guarding him, yes, but I have a bigger army waiting for that book. And now, I shall go to them. I shall go and tell them to fight against their enemy, the Ancients.” Yuri held out a hand in front of Berek. “Will you fi
ght with me?”

  Berek stared into Yuri’s eyes, seeing a determination and strength rising. Berek felt the same strength and suddenly gripped Yuri’s hand.

  “I will.”

  “Then we go to the headquarters.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: Dark Awakening

  V ormis and Kullian woke up from a strange sleep.

  “Where are we?” Vormis pulled his hand from sticky, black mud and pulled himself up.

  “We are not at the Temple, if that is what you ask.” Kullian looked around; he cleared his eyes from the ash that protruded his eyes. He saw a nearby hill and walked up on it. From a distance, there were red lands and erupting fire.

  “Ash, and lots of it.”

  “Well it isn’t snow.” Kullian took sarcasm seriously, which annoyed Vormis.

  “Whatever happened with Tablitha... and Yuri?” Vormis was concerned, as Kullian responded.

  “I believe this spell was interfered by some means. But it isn’t meant for any other place rather than the Blood Shadows hideouts and temples.”

  “So where do we start?”

  “We first find a way to get out of this mysterious world, and then we try to find Yuri. During the battle I noticed Yuri had trouble finding his emerald, the spell item.”

  “You are saying Yuri could have been killed by those ravaged men?”

  Kullian didn’t reply, as he began to stare into the distance of the strange world. “Something tells me we aren’t in Alundiel.”

  “Kullian, be real. There is no other world, not like this at least.” Kullian disagreed with Vormis saying.