by Steven Drake
Lucca looked down, her smile curled downward into a flat look of stern judgment. “Very well.” Her already deep voice dropped lower and became threatening, a new music like the drums of a death march. “Heed my warning, for you will face a trial. Your body, your mind, your spirit, all shall be tested. You shall be surrounded by enemies. Many will pursue, but one will stand at your side. You will overcome the one you fear, only to face an even greater foe that you cannot overcome. Death shall be the wages of your fear and doubt. The noble sacrifice will awaken the slumbering terror, and the two demons shall battle to the death. They rise in blackness and fall in white.”
The executioner betrayed no sign of fear, anger, or anything else. He simply turned and walked away. There was nothing more to be said. It was not fear or anger which he felt, only bitter resentment, defiance beyond rhyme or reason. Not if the entire world were arrayed against him would he yield. Whatever trial he faced, he would pass. Whatever obstacle set before him, he would overcome it. Whatever suffering he should endure, it would not weaken his resolve.
“It will take more than strength and determination,” Lucca called after him, her voice returned to its normal lilting tone. “You cannot succeed now in the same way you did when you followed the path of darkness. Remember that, above all else, and if you should ever wish to speak to me, call my name to the waters, and my children shall hear you. I will come if I can.” The executioner did not pause or give any sign that he had heard her words. He had heard enough, and it did not matter. Why would he ever want to speak to that… creature… again? He had decided upon his way forward, and nothing else made any difference.
Chapter 5: The Journey Begins
Darien spent the next week making preparations for the journey. He checked often upon Rana’s preparations, half expecting her to change her mind and decide to stay, or go her own way altogether. Darien counted himself fortunate that she had accepted at all. Her familiarity with the city and the Order of the Golden Shield could be critical. Still, she seemed to have some lingering doubts. She spoke more quietly, and watched him when she thought he wasn’t looking, and it made him more uncomfortable than usual.
Jerris took the news of Darien’s departure far better than the older half-elf had expected. Darien gave the prince numerous instructions about how to practice in his absence, though the younger half-elf didn’t seem to pay much attention. In reality, much of the training would probably fall to Galen, and that was acceptable now. Jerris had advanced far enough that he would not be easily killed, if and when he encountered real combat.
Galen offered a tearful goodbye, which Darien found thoroughly awkward and unpleasant. He only wanted to leave quietly, without fanfare, and with as little complication as possible. The Lorekeeper had fortunately agreed not to see him off personally, or to arrange any formal sendoff.
The day of departure came uneventfully, and Darien gathered his supplies and set off from the Ivory Hall just before sunrise. A quiet hush filled the valley in the pre-dawn darkness as the former Shade made his way toward the door in the gray cliff face where he had first stepped into the valley a year earlier, encountering no one until he was near the spot, where he noticed three figures sitting around the dark opening, two more than he expected. He recognized the forms of Jerris and Ceres in addition to Rana. The former two wore light leather gear, pale green with sky blue trim, while the lady knight wore her familiar silver plate.
“What is this?” Darien asked crossly of Jerris as he strode up to the gray rock. “I can understand you wanting to come see us off, but why bring Ceres.”
“Well, you see,” Jerris stammered, “I’ve decided to come with you, and Ceres insisted on coming along as a bodyguard.”
Darien cringed and shook his head vigorously. “You are not coming with us. Going to Trinium will be dangerous enough, and we don’t know if we’ll find out anything. You’re too important to risk on this quest. It’s as likely as not to end in my death or imprisonment.”
“If it’s worth the risk to you, then it’s worth it to me. Besides, our people made the swords, and they’re our responsibility. In a way, the Demon King is our responsibility too. I feel like we have to send someone, and as the future king, I can speak for our people if it’s needed.”
“Does Galen know?”
“He wasn’t happy at first, but he agreed that some official representative for the elves ought to go. He argued a bit, but that’s the thing about being the crown prince. He doesn’t really have the authority to stop me.” Jerris smiled slyly and winked at the older half-elf, who shook his head again. It was pointless to argue once Jerris made up his mind. Even the red-haired elf warrior Ceres betrayed a slight smile, no doubt satisfied to see anyone win an argument with the Executioner. Rana stared off into the distance, as she had since they had begun speaking, her thoughts apparently elsewhere.
Each of the four travelers carried a heavy pack filled with supplies for the journey, the usual things, dried fruit and a little bread, lengths of rope, knives and other tools, a few useful potions, enough to get them down the mountain at least. They could not take the same path out as the one they had entered from the previous year. Going upriver to the empty Craglands would have taken them far out of their way. Fortunately, the mountains around Kadanar were filled with secret doors and hidden tunnels, a maze that only the Sentinels themselves could navigate, accessed through a number of hidden doors, invisible until they were opened, much like the door in the Forest of the Sleepers. The particular tunnel they chose wound a few miles through the rock, then emerged behind a waterfall that fell down from the valley, hidden from all who did not know where to look.
A spiral staircase carved out of the stone led down, hidden behind the falling water. The stair descended perhaps a hundred feet, then a path led around a pool of clear water, and away from the water toward the south. Beyond this, the path was hardly a path at all. There were no signs that any purposeful effort had ever been made to cut a trail. Instead, the travelers picked their way carefully along a series of conveniently placed but quite natural looking narrow ledges situated precariously on the side of cliffs hundreds of feet high, many no wider than a single man could pass. In other places, the travelers carefully edged their way down narrow gullies filled with loose gravel, sending pebbles clattering down the mountain with every step. In a few places, they descended nearly vertical staircases, disguised as natural rock formations. Here and there, an odd cedar tree sprung from some crack in the rock, but aside from that, the only growing things were blue green mountain mosses and variously colored lichens clinging to the rocks. Even though the spring was well under way, ice and snow still clung to some of the more hidden crevices of the mountain path, adding further hazard to an already difficult descent. The winds whipped and whirled into swift eddies that blew strongly in exposed spots, and threatened to throw the travelers down the mountainside.
Under such conditions, progress was excruciatingly slow. They had more than enough supplies to account for delays, but the slow pace and treacherous conditions frustrated the travelers to varying degrees. The Executioner found the path challenging, but not overly difficult, for he possessed considerable experience navigating rough mountain terrain, and remained comfortable with hardship. Ceres had actually descended this path several times before, and seemed to glide almost effortlessly across the stones, showing frustration more with the slow pace of the other three than anything else. Jerris fared well enough for a novice, for like Ceres and Darien, he possessed the light feet and keen reflexes of the elven race. Rana, however, struggled mightily. Though she would have been considered agile among men, she was no match for the elf Sentinel and the two half-elves. Her heavy plate armor weighed her down, and her obvious fear of heights slowed her even further. More than once, she stumbled and nearly fell, saved only by the watchful eyes and quick reactions of Darien, who kept close to her in the more difficult stretches.
Low clouds and mountain fogs tended to block their view of the lands
below, but on occasion, when the sun showed its face, the fog would part, and they could see a dark, blotchy land below them, the massive Bladereed Marsh. If they kept to the path, they would eventually descend into the foothills around the marsh, then proceed west, skirt the northern boundary of the marsh, and then proceed onto the Golden Plains towards Trinium.
The first night, they camped as best they could on a sheltered ledge. Darien, as was common for him, stayed awake long into the night, and on this occasion, Rana stayed awake as well, obviously meaning to speak to him.
“You know Darien, this quest is all but impossible. It would be difficult enough for an ordinary person to sneak into Trinium and steal something from the library, but you should know that for you, it will be almost impossible. The Golden Shield has trained mystics who can sense the auras of powerful mages for miles around. I don’t suppose the Demon King bothered to teach you mysticism.”
“Just enough to tell if a powerful mage was close. We were able to use enchanted armor or clothing to suppress our auras, but that was only for our spies in hostile territory. Frankly, I think he preferred to make it easy to find us, just in case he suspected us of treason. We were never taught to suppress our auras as you were, either, and likely for the same reason, though perhaps he taught others. If so, I didn’t know.”
“Well, your aura would be almost impossible to suppress anyway, and then there’s the sword. Are you sure you really want to go through with this? I… well I can’t imagine being able to get through this without being caught.” Rana looked rather desperately over at him, perhaps hoping that he would change his mind and go back.
Darien shot a look over at Jerris and Ceres, to ensure they were still sleeping. “You’re probably right, but what I need is in Trinium, and entering as a captive isn’t the worst option.”
“Then you do intend to be caught. I thought that might be what you intended. You think you can convince them to help you.”
“Well, I convinced you, didn’t I? They’ll hold me captive, and I’ll have plenty of time to work out a plan to escape and find what I need to find.”
“If that’s your plan, what do you need me for?”
“Well, there’s always the chance fortune favors us, and by some stroke of luck, we avoid capture. If we can get close to Trinium, it may be as simple as sending you into the city to investigate.” Rana looked at him rather skeptically, and Darien shrugged his shoulders. His luck had never been that good. “Probably not,” he conceded. “But just because they capture me doesn’t mean they’ll capture all of us. I’ll need you to follow me to Trinium, and work independently. I may need your help to escape, or at least your knowledge of the city once I do.”
“You’re taking an awful risk. What if they decide the sword is useful, but you’re not?”
“Well, there are worse things than death for me, and for all I’ve done, I probably deserve it. If I survive a few more years or even decades, does it matter. I have long accepted that my life will not be a long or happy one.”
“But…” Rana stuttered with an unusual tremulousness in her voice, and an anxiety in her eyes, something Darien had not heard or seen before. “But what about Jerris? It would break his heart.”
“You needn’t worry about that. Jerris possesses a remarkable spirit. I would have preferred he remain behind, but he is strong enough to bear it, and since Ceres is here, I’m certain they’ll make it back to Kadanar. When I have a chance, I’ll explain my plans to her. She’ll be glad to be rid of me, I’m sure.” This did not seem to console Rana at all, for her look of anxiety did not change much. He spoke again, now irritated. “I don’t understand why you’re so nervous. They aren’t going to care about one deserter when they have one of the Demon King’s former generals.” This seemed to silence the woman at least, for she huffed, turned around, and violently laid herself down on her bedroll.
The succeeding days passed much like the first, with the happy exception that Rana kept her anxieties, whatever their source, to herself. They spoke little, focused as they were upon their footing and the path ahead. It seemed to the travelers that they were getting nowhere, as every turn led only to more gray rocks, icy crevices, and windy ledges. A cold, misty drizzling rain began to fall on the afternoon of the second day after their departure and fell for two more days, soaking their clothes through and chilling them to the bone.
Three days out from Kadanar, the path leveled noticeably. There were still difficult stretches, and a downward slope, but they were finally leaving the high Silver Mountains behind them. Here, there finally appeared to be something of a path to follow, as a flat and narrow trail led between the rocks, snaking around the feet of the mountains towards the west. They passed groves of pine, fir, and spruce, and a few hardy highland grasses, poking from between the stones and preparing for the mountain summer.
By five days out from the valley, the mountains were truly behind them. The travelers passed through a forest dotted with outcroppings of gray rocks that jutted from the forest floor, islands in a sea of fallen needles. The trail had vanished with the mountain terrain, and Ceres Arloran, the only one familiar with the area, led the way under the trees. Rana was truly grateful to be out of the mountains, and expressed that gratitude on nearly every possible occasion, remarking often on her disbelief at how easily her three companions had handled the descent. Jerris, sociable by nature, filled the air with useless small talk, and Darien quickly recalled his annoyance during his first journey with the talkative young half-elf. Though he disliked much conversation, he indulged Jerris to some extent, mostly steering the conversation towards such useful topics as the prince’s magical training, and the intended course of their journey. The remainder of the time, Jerris spoke principally to Ceres, about the extent of her travels and her history in the valley.
Darien had never paid much attention to Ceres. She had made no secret of the fact she considered him unworthy of the Demon Sword, and she seemed to disapprove of him in general. He didn’t really know why, but then he didn’t particularly care. She was neither a threat, nor an obstacle, nor particularly useful to him, so he considered it perfectly acceptable for her to go on disliking him for whatever reason. Though Ceres appeared no older than himself, she actually had seen over ninety winters. He had always known elves lived long lives, but until he came to Kadanar, he’d never realized how long, sometimes over seven hundred years, and the ancient elves had lived far longer. She had seen some combat, though not in any organized conflict. She seemed convinced that she would one day have to kill Darien, a fact he considered amusing, as in her current state it would be like a mouse attempting to kill a lion.
As it always was, the Demon’s Blade remained slung over Darien’s back in its sheath. The voices of the imprisoned demons remained quiet. He remembered well each of the times he had heard them speaking to him, voices so frightening and so comforting at the same time. Sooner or later, the voices would return, and grow stronger, until they were too much for his mind to bear. If that happened, a quick death would be the best possible outcome. He was used to such grim thoughts. As a Shade, he had been taught to accept death without fear or hesitation. However, the possibility of ending his enemy’s life at the same moment as his own had given him something else to hope for, a satisfying ending to his otherwise miserable existence.
Chapter 6: The Golden Plains
The pine forest at the edge of Bladereed marsh would have made for a pleasant voyage, but for the fact that the damp noisome air hummed with the buzzing of millions of insects, most of which were eager to feed on the unexpected boon of four travelers, though as far as the bugs were concerned, it was only three. The mosquitos and biting flies avoided Darien as if his presence pained them. Even the tiniest forms of life seemed to somehow sense the presence of the Demon Sword, and feared it instinctively.
The travelers spent several days moving as quickly as possible through the bug-infested forest toward the city of Lagura, which sat on the eastern edge of the Golde
n Plains. On an otherwise uneventful morning, Darien noted a lone crow following the party, flying from tree to tree behind them. He pretended to pay it no attention at first, but he finally decided that it was better not to take the chance it might be a spy, and he discreetly conjured a small fireball in his hands, then suddenly turned and hurled it back towards the annoying creature. The bird flew off to the south, squawking loudly in protest. Darien contemplated giving chase until he noticed the sound of laughter ahead of him. He turned to see Jerris doubled over in amusement. Apparently Jerris had charmed the bird to follow them.
“That isn’t funny,” Darien groaned.
“I don’t know,” Rana said smiling. “I thought it was clever myself. You’ve been looking over your shoulder all morning. We were wondering how long it would take you to say something.”
“So you were all in on it?” The three companions grinned rather smugly, but Darien ignored them and started forward again, wondering if he wouldn’t have been better off just going alone.
Two weeks after leaving Kadanar, as the sun set in the west, they finally reached Lagura, a typical human city. From a distance away, they could see a hillside dotted with the well-kept manors of the nobles and merchants, while further down the hill lay the humbler dwellings of the common people. By the time they reached the city, the sun had set, and the cloud-covered sky was painted in violets and burgundies. The travelers missed the closing of the city gates and so were forced to search for lodging in the flotsam of ramshackle structures outside the walls that housed the poorest of the poor. Just as they began searching the disordered streets for an inn, a hard rain began to fall.