by Lana Axe
The invasion wasn’t solely about gaining control of the Vale. Rather, it was a method of binding the strongest elven essences in all Nōl’Deron. Their power would grant Ulda the boost he needed to continue his secret research. Soon he would perfect the mechanism that would render his army unstoppable.
Sucking in a deep gulp of air, Ulda smiled at the wind. The sails of the ship billowed as if the ship were eager to get underway. It was a perfect morning to set sail. With the wind in their favor, the ships would travel faster, and Ulda would not have to wait too long to witness the destruction of the Vale. Though he would not be there in person, he would witness every moment of battle through his scrying orb. It would be a welcome break from his research.
Counting each creature as they passed, Ulda made certain that his orders had been followed to the letter. Forty wolfbeasts, forty man-size spiders, forty tigers, and two-hundred soul-bound elven foot soldiers. In addition to the elite sorcerers with their wyverns, Ulda expected his army to easily break the lines of the Westerling Elves. Their numbers were waning, as the elders continued to cross over faster than the younger elves could give birth. So few were left in the world that if Ulda didn’t act in the next century or two, there might be none of the race left to collect. It would be a pity for such a species to go to waste. Ulda had great plans for them.
The ship’s captain made his way down the gangplank after the last of the soldiers had boarded. Bowing low, he said, “We are ready to disembark, Master.” Avoiding Ulda’s gaze, he stared down at his boots.
“I will monitor your progress,” Ulda responded. “I expect the ship to return in one piece with as many prisoners as it can hold.”
The captain nodded and backed away. Never feeling safe in Ulda’s presence, he hurried back to the deck of his ship, where he was ever at home. The farther he sailed from Ulda, the safer he would feel, despite heading out to battle. On the sea, he knew what to expect. Standing next to the sorcerer, he could never shake the feeling he was about to be set ablaze. Focusing on his duties to the ship kept him out of trouble. As long as the ship remained in good condition, Ulda had no reason to be angry with the captain.
Ulda stayed to observe as the crew pulled up the anchor and set sail. It would be days before it arrived in the Vale, and Ulda would have to live with the anxiety. How thrilling it was for him to know that soon he would possess so many powerful souls. The descendants of the Ancient Ones were only slightly less valuable than elementals. Nearly salivating at the thought, he could not stop himself from smiling.
With a wave of his hand, he bid Prin to follow as he made his way across the sand to return to his tower. “We must check on things in Na’zora,” he said. “I’ve neglected them for far too long.” His attack on the Spirit of the river had taken more time and effort than anticipated. That coupled with readying his forces for their journey, he had not taken the time to see how the kingdom had reacted to Aelryk’s death.
Climbing the spiral steps, he entered his laboratory and barked at the servants inside as they attempted to clean away the dust. “Out!” he shouted, pointing toward the door. They obeyed, tripping over their feet as they went.
Prin stepped to the side to avoid them, shaking his head. He had told these very same servants to stay clear of the laboratory. They would have to be punished if they were to learn. Otherwise, Ulda would grow tired of their mistakes and use them in his experiments. There were already too few servants is it was. Prin did not relish the thought of losing more.
Extending his bony fingers, Ulda placed them on the smooth, glassy surface of the orb. Focusing his mind to Na’zora, an image of King Rykon came into view. The man was visibly angry, pounding his fists and shouting at the other men in the room. Ulda did not try to contain his laughter.
Aelryk had been a thorn in Ulda’s side once, but the sorcerer had evened the score. No heroic death in battle had awaited the Na’zoran king. Instead, he had suffered long, lying in his bed and wasting away, all thanks to Ulda. No death could have been sweeter to watch.
His only regret was that he hadn’t bound the king’s soul. Looking upon his enemy for years to come would have brought immense joy to the sorcerer’s world. It would have been a fun distraction from so much work. Alas, he had not the time or resources to send the necessary forces. In the end, he had settled for knowing that Aelryk had suffered and died, lying helpless and feeble.
Prin stood silently with his hands clenched behind his back. Peering slightly over his master’s shoulder, he watched as images of Na’zora’s countryside appeared within the orb. Over varying landscapes from cities to farms to forests, Ulda willed the orb to view the entire kingdom. Prin saw no signs of upheaval, nor any sign that the kingdom had been laid low by Ulda’s hand. What was his master waiting for?
As if the sorcerer could read the servant’s mind, he said, “Once the souls are brought back from the Vale, I can finalize my plans for the invasion of Na’zora. They will fall without much struggle.” Continuing to stare into the orb, he pushed it farther, making his way to the Blue River.
Prin looked upon the river he had seen once before in the orb. Before it had been sparkling blue, the light dancing upon it as if in a dream. Now it was nothing but waste. More bog than river, Prin felt his lips turn downward and his body recoil at the sight of it.
Glancing over his shoulder, Ulda took note of the elf’s expression. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he commented with a laugh. “The water is no longer plagued by the ancient spirit. I put an end to it, though I regret I couldn’t capture its essence.”
Ulda had learned to live with some failures. He simply wasn’t prepared for such a struggle, and he could spend no more time studying the subject. Once he controlled the world, there would be plenty of time to perfect the technique. He would have the power of all life at his disposal, and that would lead him to his ultimate goal. Holding more power than the gods themselves was well within his grasp—so close he could almost robe himself in it.
Searching through the Vale, Ulda willed his orb to show him how River was faring after the destruction of his power source. An image of the elf, propped up in bed, appeared before the sorcerer. His wife and youngest daughter stood at his side. Smirking, Ulda thought, How nice of them to keep him company. Making note of River’s pale complexion and his difficulty in raising his arms, Ulda concluded that he was more ill than he had expected. This was an added bonus for the wizard. He knew River’s power would be drained, but he had expected him to recover quickly. After all, he was replenished by water, and that was all around him. The blow Ulda dealt had been much harder than expected, and this gave him great pleasure.
Tapping the orb with his finger, he pointed to the ailing elf. “It was easy to draw this one out of his safe little sanctuary in the forest,” he said, without turning to look at his servant. “These sentimental types are all the same. They come running at the slightest inkling that someone needs their help.”
“And that’s why Aelryk had to die.” Prin stated.
“Partially,” Ulda replied in a casual tone. Sitting back in his seat, he rested his chin on his fingertips. “Aelryk deserved his fate. My punishment for him was long overdue. I hoped he would call for the aid of the Westerling Elves, and he did not disappoint. With River away, the Vale was left unprotected. His magical barriers are nothing for one as clever as me.”
“Will they come after you once River is healed?” Prin asked, wondering what came next. His master was far too quiet about his intentions, and Prin liked to be prepared. He knew Ulda intended to take over several kingdoms in time, but he had never mentioned the possibility of a strike against his own tower at Ral’nassa. If he moved too slowly, those he wished to conquer might rise up to challenge him before he could reach their lands.
“It wouldn’t do them any good,” he replied, allowing the images in the orb to fade away. Swiveling in his seat, he turned his attention to the stacks of tomes on his table. Picking through the volumes, he said, “Swords and arrows a
re no match for me. Only River’s magic posed any real threat, and now he may never recover.”
Prin was risking his master’s anger, but he had to know the answer to his next question. “Why send minions, Master? Why not just attack the Vale at a distance the same as you did the Spirit?”
Ulda waved a hand to dismiss the question. “It takes far too much energy, and binding the souls would be too difficult.” Pausing, he looked up and stared at the wall in front of him. “Maybe the death of the Spirit will cause River to die of grief.” Looking back down, he shook his head. “One can only guess. His origins are strange. I’ve found nothing like him in all my studies.”
Prin understood perfectly. “You intend him to stand by powerless and watch as his home is destroyed and his children bound to your service.”
“Indeed I do,” Ulda replied. “Perhaps I’ll even manage to get my hands on his true love. Wouldn’t that be justice for my fallen army? The one he destroyed with the help of his elemental friends? I think I’d like that very much. I could find a special task for her.”
Prin remained silent. He could already see what horrors his master might have in store for the elf woman. If her husband remained powerless, Ulda would likely bring him along to be studied as well.
“You’re free to leave,” Ulda said.
Without another word, Prin bowed to his master and left the room. The door clanged shut, and Prin stood at the ready outside it, should his master require his services.
Inside, Ulda turned his thoughts to Lenora and what experiments might be suitable for her. Regretting he had not instructed his troops to seek her out especially, he sighed and slumped down in his chair. It wouldn’t surprise him if she put up a terrible fight. After all, she was a skilled healer with a deep store of magic. Whether she knew the appropriate spells to counter his own sorcerers he couldn’t say. Glancing at his orb, he thought it might be best to contact the ship and tell them to look for her. Before doing so, his eye fell on a silver filigree coffer perched high on a shelf.
Smiling to himself, Ulda rose from his chair and climbed the wooden ladder to reach the box. Many long years ago he had loved a woman, possibly as much as River loved his mate. But Ulda was never good enough for her. No matter how hard he tried to impress her, she always refused his advances. She preferred fair-haired, doe-eyed boys who had no sense about them. Ulda was dark and quiet, his nose always stuck in a book. Every word he spoke only angered the lady he loved. She found him repulsive and told him so on several occasions. That had not stopped his love for her.
Lifting the coffer from its height, he gently carried it down the ladder and placed it on his desk. Smoothing out the creases in his chestnut-colored robe, he smiled softly at the box. Memories of the girl he loved flooded back to his mind. Her smooth olive skin and sparkling brown eyes were as lovely as the first day he’d met her. Never would she age or worry line her delicate features. She was his, for all eternity.
Opening the box, he peered inside where a large oval-shaped amethyst lay upon a cushion of white silk. Lifting the jewel in his hand, he gazed into the eyes of his love, her features twisted in torment. Her mouth opened as if to cry out, but no sound escaped her lips. Forever bound to the man she had rejected, her essence dwelt in agony inside the stone.
Looking upon the woman he had so adored, he said, “What do you say, love? Am I good enough for you now?” Tossing his head back, he laughed a deep, throaty laugh. “Things could have been different,” he said. “Things could have been so different.”
Chapter 13
Tucking her head beneath her father’s arm, Alyra did her best impression of a crutch. Slowly the pair moved together down the stairs for the first time in days. River was feeling a bit stronger, but he still wasn’t himself. Making every effort to hide how poorly he truly felt, he managed a weak smile for his youngest daughter.
Rushing off to the kitchen, Alyra prepared a variety of foods for her father, as well as the tea her mother had prescribed. Since she was unable to assist her brother and sister in preparing the Vale for a possible attack, she made the best of her abilities by acting as a nurse to her father.
When the girl returned with the food, Mel was standing near the fireplace, speaking in hushed tones with River. Clearing her throat, she made her presence known. “Mother said he was to eat and keep his strength up,” she said, giving Mel a cutting glance. “No talk of secret plans or anything else until he’s eaten.”
“Yes, my lady,” River replied, pressing the cup to his lips. His heart swelled with love for his protective child, and he reached out an arm to draw her close to him. Squeezing her, he said, “Thank you. It’s delicious.” Picking at the small bowl of almonds she had brought, he popped a few in his mouth and smiled as he crunched them.
Hands on her hips, Alyra looked over at Mel, who threw his arms up in surrender. Turning away, he stared out of the window that faced the water. There had been no change to speak of, and the elves had tried every spell known to them to restore the water to its former state. Nothing had worked.
Lenora returned home with bundles of herbs piled high in her basket. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she looked upon her life mate, who was finally sitting up and eating on his own. “I see our little nurse has been tending her duties well.” She winked at her daughter as she set her basket down on the floor.
“Did the dryads have what you needed?” Alyra asked, rifling through the tender greens.
“They did,” Lenora replied. “Could you take them upstairs for me?”
Alyra paused a moment and stared at her mother. She knew the task was simply an excuse to get her out of the room so the adults could talk, but she wasn’t in the mood for an argument. Besides, she would be able to hear most of it from her secret spot in her mother’s library. Snatching the basket from the floor, she bounded up the stairs without a word.
“How are you feeling?” Lenora asked River. “Be honest.”
“I’m much better,” he replied. “I am not at full strength, but that’s to be expected.” His eyes wandered to the scene outside the window.
“What’s to be done?” Lenora asked.
“There is only one thing I can think of,” River stated. “I will need Mel’s help.”
The sandy-haired elf turned away from the window and moved closer to the others. “Talk,” he said.
“Master Ulda has bound the souls of great masters, absorbing their knowledge and acquiring their skills,” River explained. “In essence, he has mastered all aspects of elemental magic.”
That Ulda had done this came as no surprise to Mel. The sorcerer was obsessed with power, and stealing it from others seemed the fastest way to get it. Mel remained quiet and raised his eyebrows, awaiting further explanation.
“What is commonly known is there are four elements,” River stated. “Great scholars have always debated about a fifth.”
“They don’t think it exists,” Mel said with a shrug.
“That’s because it isn’t something they can touch,” Lenora said. “They don’t believe in things that aren’t tangible.”
“Precisely,” River continued. “It is not an element that one can master by careful study. There is no college that teaches such magic.”
Mel held up a hand. “You’re hinting at something, and you want me to guess it. Just spit it out already.”
“I believe Ulda has mastered the fifth element,” River stated flatly. “There is no other way he could have defeated the Spirit.”
“So how do we defeat him?” Mel asked. “What element do we need?”
“The other four,” Lenora replied, looking at the floor. She knew what this would mean for her life mate.
River nodded his agreement. “Four elementals could combine forces to defeat Ulda.”
“Great,” Mel replied. “Where do we find them?”
With a grin, River replied, “We have two right here. You and me.”
Shaking his head, Mel gave a sarcastic laugh. “I’m not an el
emental.” With a mocking wag of his finger, he said, “You’ve lost your mind.”
“I saw an earth elemental once, centuries ago,” Lenora said in a quiet voice. “It was a remarkable creature.” With heaviness, she added, “Even the dryads have not seen one in many years. They are all too deeply asleep now, locked inside the earth.”
“That’s why Mel will have to represent earth,” River said, looking into Mel’s emerald green eyes. “Will you do it?”
Mel stumbled on his words a moment, but finally managed to ask, “How? I’m not an elemental.”
“You have a deeper connection to the earth than any elf I’ve met,” River said.
“Why not use one of the dryads?” Mel wondered. “Surely they are more connected and stronger than me when it comes to earth magic.”
“The dryads cannot leave the forest,” Lenora reminded him. “You will have to travel to Ral’nassa.”
“You have more strength than you know,” River told him. “I cannot do this alone. All of Nōl’Deron, including your forest, is in danger.”
Mel went silent for a moment. There was nothing he wanted more from life than to protect his people in the Forests of Viera. It was a beautiful place, unlike any other. Only the Vale rivaled it in beauty. When magic first awoke in him, he wondered why it had chosen him. Then he had discovered it was a way to bring his people back to the ways of old. His connection to the earth only deepened over the years as he honed his talents and drew power inside him. If Ulda was threatening his home, he wouldn’t stand by and watch. Even if it led him to his death, Mel would not refuse the fight. “I will go with you,” he stated.
“I’m glad to hear it,” River replied.
“Now where do we get air and fire?” Mel asked. “Wait, I’m going to burn things and you’re going to blow on them.” He grinned, amused by his own joke. His audience, however, only frowned. “Okay, seriously,” he said. “Are there other elementals around, or will we be rounding up a few more elves?”