The Sword and the Shadows_The First Chronicle

by Patrick Kriener

  "It's Melageth," said Berek. The beast flew closer and closer to the ground, toward Berek.

  "Berek, I shall help you," spoke Yuri. "I will throw you."

  "What?" asked Berek, surprised.

  "I will throw you. Get over here." Berek did so and stood in front of Yuri. Yuri bent down and held his hands closed together. Berek stepped into Yuri's hands. The beast was reaching them within minutes. Suddenly, Berek flew through the wind as Yuri lifted off from the ground. Berek was flying fast and he hit the beast in the face. Berek felt himself falling backwards, but he flailed his hands out, grabbing for anything. He grabbed something hard and felt the wind rushing past his face very quickly.

  Berek opened his eyes, for he had closed them, and saw what had happened. He was flying on the back of the beast, Melageth, flying high in the air.

  ***

  The Ancients from the north ran faster and faster toward the heroes. Suddenly, they reached them and the fight began. Yuri slashed and stabbed the Ancients to the ground. He had no hope left; he was fighting on instinct. Five against five hundred was no match at all. Yuri felt the Callous Scales rise in him again as he stood tall in the battle. He smashed and stabbed and hewed away any opponent. He heard a loud cry, and turned his head to the right. Helen had fallen on the ground, as several Ancients stood above her.

  "Helen!" shouted Yuri, rushing toward her, but suddenly, he was tackled by many Ancients and Helen left his view. Aleazar noticed Helen on the ground. He sliced an Ancient away, as he watched her.

  "She chose the Dwa’iin instead," he whispered. "Why should I help her?"

  And then he saw an Ancient with a large pike standing in front of Helen.

  "NO!" he yelled running toward the pike-man. He tackled it to the ground. "Run Helen!" he yelled. "Back to the courtyard!"

  "Aleazar, what about you?" she asked, killing an Ancient.

  "Just go!"

  She nodded and ran quickly, hoping to rally the army at the courtyard. They had not expected this.

  ***

  Berek could not move a muscle. He had locked his muscles in fear. The wings to the right and left made a loud sound every time they flapped. Then the creature roared and started to shake its body. Berek held on for dear life, but it was no use. He was slipping. He was losing his grip on the creature. Finally, his hand slipped.

  A tight hand caught him before he even moved a muscle. Berek looked up, seeing Hector holding his arm.

  ***

  Aleazar slashed down the pike-man with a finishing blow. More Ancients came, as he stabbed and killed them all. He was proud of himself. He wished Berek was here, only to gloat and mock him.

  A whistling sound filled Aleazar's ears, as a sharp pain entered his chest. He looked down, seeing a black arrow sticking out. Blood seeped from the wound. Aleazar looked forward and saw an Ancient holding a bow. This Ancient seemed to be important, for he wore a long red cape and a black helmet. He looked similar to Seraph. Aleazar rushed toward him, but another pain came into his chest. Another arrow had pierced him. The Ancient notched another arrow and aimed once again at Aleazar. The Ancient smiled.

  "Look well upon your death, elf," spoke the Ancient. "I am Mir, Captain of these."

  And then he sent another arrow into Aleazar's chest. Aleazar heaved and coughed up blood. His vision was growing blurry. Mir once again notched another arrow and aimed at Aleazar.

  "No!" yelled Roark, tackling Mir to the ground.

  ***

  Helen ran further and further away from the battle. She reached the gates in a minute’s time and saw Dalkreen standing there, brandishing his sword.

  "Is it over?" asked Dalkreen. "Did Berek-"

  "Dalkreen, they have reinforcements!" she cried. Dalkreen's eyes grew large. He turned around and summoned up his army.

  ***

  "Father?"

  "Yes, my son," said Hector. "You will not die yet. Your time will come."

  "I can't..." said Berek, heaving through breaths. "I can’t...go...on..."

  "Then let me help you." Hector pulled Berek up. Hector suddenly closed his eyes and then, his form disappeared. Berek looked around, seeing nothing, but the air. He held on once again. Suddenly, as if someone was controlling his own body, his hand involuntarily closed around Dawnfrost. He lifted it up not on his own accord and pointed it downward towards the beast's spine. And then a voice spoke through Berek's throat.

  "Anáil nathrach, uthvass bethudd, do chéal déanaimh!"

  The beast growled.

  "Anáil nathrach, uthvass bethudd, do chéal déanaimh!"

  The beast began to shake and writhe unpleasantly, screeching and roaring.

  And finally, Berek said with full force, "Anáil nathrach, uthvass bethudd, do chéal déanaimh!" He stabbed Dawnfrost into the beast's spine, into Melageth’s spine. Dawnfrost sunk in deep and the creature's cries became louder. It began to fall down to the ground, with Berek on it. Blood sprayed from the wound into Berek's face. The creature growled once more and became silent as it fell through the air. Berek saw it reaching the ground and before it fell, he jumped off. With a clanging sound reverberating throughout the city, Melageth, the dragon hit the ground. Berek also tumbled onto the cold mud. He felt pain enter every part of his body and he was drifting off again.

  ***

  "Berek..." said a distant voice. “Berek...you did it." He opened his eyes. Helen was looking down at him.

  "What...what happened?" he asked with a weak voice.

  "You killed Melageth," she replied. "You saved us all."

  Berek turned his head to the left, seeing not a large beast, but Seraph on the ground.

  "He changed forms," she said, answering his question before he asked it.

  "Where's Dawnfrost?" asked Berek, sitting up in a flurry. Helen laughed.

  "Don't stir too much. I have it." She pulled out the familiar blue sword from behind her. Berek took it from her and gripped it. He then pulled Helen into a soft kiss. After they kissed, he stood up.

  "What about the rest of the Ancients?"

  "I summoned the army and they came and wiped them out. A small number of Ancients escaped though."

  "Escaped?" asked Berek, surprised.

  "Yes," she said remorsefully. "They fled the city." Helen began leading Berek around the corner to the foot of the tower, where the battle had been fought. Thousands of Ancients and men stood dead at their feet. However, they saw Roark bending down beside someone.

  "Oh no," whispered Helen. Berek walked over to Roark. He then looked down at Aleazar, many arrows in his chest. Aleazar seemed to recognize Berek.

  "What are you looking at?" he asked weakly. "It's nothing."

  Berek bent down. "Aleazar...I..." Berek heard Helen behind him stifle a cry. "I...I'm sorry...for everything."

  Aleazar laughed. "You've grown too soft, Dwa’iin. Especially with women."

  Berek chuckled. "True. Aleazar, I know I said some things before...and...I'm sorry."

  Aleazar smiled. He tried opening his mouth to speak, but only blood came from it. He looked at Berek with a hard look.

  "Berek..." And then Aleazar grew lifeless. Roark bowed his head. He let his fingers fall over Aleazar's face and close them. Berek patted Roark on the shoulder. He then turned and comforted Helen. The elf had given his life to save them. Even though Aleazar was unlikable, the elf's last act had been noble.

  ***

  They burned the dead with funeral pyres. Among Seraph's body was the Crystal. Four days later, Berek cast the Crystal into the sea, hoping to never see it again in his life. Within a month, the city of Wyndal grew strong and formidable again. Berek walked with Helen to the terrace, where Ramas Octavium stood. Yuri, Tablitha, Roark, Dalkreen, and Gorzon were already there. As they entered, Ramas turned his head to them.

  "Well, you've decided to come at last," spoke Ramas.

  "Sorry," spoke Berek. "We were..."

  Ramas held up a hand. He shifted his gaze from each of them. "A true hero gives his l
ife to defend what's right. A true hero makes sure he protects and honors his beliefs. And a true hero is what I see in all of you today."

  He turned and stood in front of Gorzon. "You came and helped us with your army when we needed you the most."

  He walked to Dalkreen. "You lent your men and weren't afraid to sacrifice them."

  He walked to Roark. "You saved many men's lives, including mine."

  He walked to Tablitha. "Your plan to draw out the Ancients was the backbone of our success."

  He walked to Helen. "You stood true and strong, even to the very end."

  He walked to Yuri, a smile appearing on his face. "Even in the darkest of moments, you held strong, embraced your destiny, and fought for freedom."

  Finally, he walked to Berek. "You have lost much. But you have gained courage and valor in battle. With this, you defeated the evil I have been trying to defeat for so many years."

  He then walked back to the middle. "I knight you all as newly formed Shieldvanes!"

  ***

  After many congratulations and thanks, Berek began to unpack from his long journey to the Mothdew Caves, to join Yuri in celebration. He vowed he would repay them somehow. For a great destiny held him to his own. Berek thought of that night of the battle, when he stood on the beast. How had Hector helped him? He was dead. But Berek knew that Hector was not truly dead. He lived inside of Berek as long as Berek believed and remained true. Berek stood now in his room at the Mothdew Caves, sitting at the edge of the bed. Suddenly the door opened, and Helen walked in.

  "So, Hero of Wyndal now?" She smiled and sat next to him. "I'm proud of you. I think your parents and Jarem would be too."

  Berek smiled and kissed Helen. "And your father too."

  Helen nodded. "But what are we going to do when I..."

  "When you what?" asked Berek.

  "When...I have the baby?"

  Berek's eyes grew wide. "Baby?"

  Helen nodded. "We shall need a name though."

  Berek was still surprised at this news. What dangers, what precautions would have to be taken? Berek then thought of how Hector felt when he knew Berek was to be born. Would Hector have known what he was getting into? And yet, Berek could feel that Hector loved Berek from the moment he saw him. From the moment that Berek looked up at his father, not knowing his name...for Hector had many names. Avrendur...Achimus...

  "Achimus," replied Berek.

  Epilogue

  Y uri pulled the covers to his chest. A sigh escaped his mouth. He was glad to be in a bed, after all those battles. Yuri had only one thing on his mind though: Tablitha. As they had exited Ramas’ room, she had pulled him aside to a corner and kissed him, long and hard. Yuri grinned in the dark, remembering this. So much had happened today. But that remained the only thing that mattered to Yuri.

  Yuri yawned. He needed sleep. He was back at the Mothdew Caves with his allies. Tomorrow, he would be recognized with them for all the Shadows members to see. Zoran would make him a true figure amongst the Shadows.

  But where had Zoran gone?

  After the skirmish in the tunnels many days before, Zoran seemed to disappear. Neither Yuri, nor Dalkreen had seen him since. Yuri surmised Zoran would have retreated back into the temple. Yuri shook off this thought. Tomorrow would be a glorious day. He felt his eyes droop as sleep overtook him.

  A dark figure slipped in Yuri's room, inching the door slightly. He pulled out a small, silver knife, which glinted in the dark. He crept closer and closer to Yuri's bed, hearing Yuri snore. The figure leaned inches away from Yuri. He then began to lower the knife to Yuri's throat.

  "The Shadows are coming," whispered Zoran.

  About the Authors

  Patrick Kriener is an American author that expresses genuine fidelity and passion for the fantasy/thriller genre. In his other novel, in which he co-authored, the theme and attitude clearly shows his dedication to the realm of literature. Praised by locals as an engrossing author of tales and suspense, his creativity and execution of plotlines proves the former statements.

  Conjoining his brilliant ideas on paper is what keeps him going. He calls it the “paper trail.” Any great idea along with its details should never be ignored. Comprehending knowledge with inspiration gives him leeway to write the next story and improve on his last one. This, being his second novel of many, will prove to other author’s whom are novices, that becoming your own self-publisher is a simple task if you work towards it. Capturing not only the writer’s attention, but the reader’s as well, is of upmost importance.

  Dan Wayley is an American author who lives in Chattanooga, TN. His preferred genre of writing tends to involve satire, horror, fantasy, and short stories.

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