Then they were clear of the building and soaring into the clouds like a bird of prey in the apex of flight. He felt his fingers gripping bone in the desire not to slide free into the thin air below, then they were angling their flight down beyond the palisade wall. El-Vador gazed down, unaffected by vertigo, and saw the sprawled corpses of hundreds of dead Orcs carpeting the pock-marked lands that were blackened in parts by flame like a patchwork. The stronghold had been routed, yet there was no sign of the Elven forces that had slaughtered the Orcish horde.
Then he recalled the entirety of the phial shattering over the chieftain's face.
'We need to go further!' El-Vador cried through the breeze to the Pixie. 'The whole stronghold will explode in a matter of moments, we need to get to a safe distance.'
'Explode?' she asked, confused at his insistent tone. 'Is there something volatile inside?'
'Just trust me.' El-Vador replied, not knowing if he had time to explain why they had to alter their course.
She banked to the right and away from the palisade, trying to gain further altitude while making for a large hill overlooking the stronghold.
El-Vador's urgency had been misplaced, they reached the top of the hill without any further commotion. They had both been silently waiting for the explosion to follow them as they soared toward the hill, instead there was nothing.
Setting him down, the Pixie offered him a glare of askance, he had rushed her and she was visibly shaken from the effort of carrying his dead weight through the sky at such a speed. 'Where's your explosion? All I see are flames and smoke.' She softened slightly, as if catching herself. 'I'm sorry, I just saw you approaching me with your shirt off and assumed the worst. I should probably thank you for saving my life, I don't owe you anything further though. A life for a life, we are even.'
El-Vador nodded, in return for his saving her she had undoubtedly saved him, there had been no other way out of that stronghold that he could have found before suffocating or worse.
'I understand.' he said. 'The explosion will come, you'll see.'
They sat for a time, watching the smouldering wreckage of the Orcish town as the flames destroyed what little was left. El-Vador still saw no signs of the Elven forces that had aided him in sacking the place. Were they revelling in their camps at the Orcs burning, unaware that he had remained inside?
'What in the blue hells is that?' the Pixie asked, pointing at a bubble of light that slowly emerged around the stronghold.
El-Vador shielded his eyes as the bubble grew, blindingly bright and radiating a heat that he could feel from here. 'Cover your ears.' he warned her.
She nodded wordlessly, clapping her hands to her head but refusing to tear her gaze away from the phenomenon below.
It could almost be considered beautiful had El-Vador not known what it heralded, it swelled in size until none of the Orcish settlement was visible, engulfing everything it touched in a white conflagration that seemed to pulse.
Then it ceased, reaching critical mass and detonating outward across the land in a sea of blinding luminance. El-Vador closed his eyes and buried his head into the ground, feeling the energy of the blast coursing through him and a deafening boom that hit his eardrums with the force of a hundred thunderclaps.
The energy and power of the blast slowly lessened as he dug his heels into the hill to keep from being blown away, then as if it had never happened it ended entirely.
El-Vador risked opening his eyes and surveying the Orcish town and stronghold he had left behind, there was nothing left but a huge smoking crater. The light and power of the explosion had destroyed everything of substance within several miles from the epicentre of the detonation.
As if on cue, the Pixie and he turned to each other in disbelief, he felt a strange sense of validation at the explosion having happened as he had predicted. She mouthed a few words at him but he couldn't hear a thing over the ringing of his ears. He experimented by trying to thank her but again no sound seemed to come out.
Seeing that communication was impossible, she offered him a brief smile and shrugged. Her wings flitting out once more and vibrating through the air. When next El-Vador looked his saviour was flying south, away from the mountains he had once called home. He hadn't even known her name.
XI
When observing an ending, always understand that it is also the beginning of something entirely different. With this permanently in mind, keep moving forward. At this tender age, moving forward was all I had left to me, it was all I could do.
It struck him like a body blow as he lay there upon the hill watching the winged figure of the Pixie speed away without further comment. Everyone he had ever cared for was dead, he had no friends, no enemies and nothing left.
What was he meant to do now?
He gazed down at the crater he had left behind, feeling strangely drawn to it. If he were to go limp and tumble from the hill he would surely perish and that would be the end of it. If he did that it would render his entire struggle for survival pointless. He had not thought at the time about the point of his surviving if everyone he ever knew was dead, having been too caught up in the moment and the primal urge to survive.
Then with a quiet certainty, he realised that there would be more Orcs coming, that they would wonder why there had been no word from the frontier and that they would blame the Elves for the crater. They would enslave the lands north of his home and subjugate his people with atrocities even worse than those few he had witnessed in his time under occupation.
He couldn't stop now, nor could whatever was left of his people. The Orcs needed to be further punished for their bloodthirsty assault of his lands and his home. First he needed to find the army and convince them to march south upon the Orcish lands, he couldn't do this alone.
'Can't you?' a voice said in his head, startling him.
'I did as you asked.' El-Vador replied, remembering that he had been tasked by the creature to destroy the Orcs. 'It's over.'
The mocking laughter that greeted him quelled any hope in his heart that the voice planned to congratulate him and then leave him be.
'You know that this is not over, my young Elf. So long as one of those green-skinned creatures lives you have cause for vengeance. You even saw fit to let one of them go free, do not think I had not witnessed this act. A betrayal of the one thing I had asked you to do.'
The longer the creature spoke to him, the more El-Vador found his head throbbing in pain. Between clenched teeth he managed to form a response.
'Will you leave me be if I convince the Elven army to march upon the Orcish lands? When they have killed every last Orc with me at their head will you leave me in peace?'
Rather than appeasing the voice, this suggestion seemed to cause an even greater chuckle, as if El-Vador had spun a merry yarn filled with innumerable jokes to savour instead of a desperate plea.
'You really thought there was an army of Elves at your side? Tell me, why then did none of them speak to you? Why did you not witness any of them kill your foes? Did you not feel your strength sap quicker than you had expected in the heat of battle? My dear mistaken Elf, you were the only one of your kind on that battlefield. The Elves you fought alongside were mere illusions I conjured to persuade you to attack when it seemed that you would not. You did all the killing yourself, every last Orc died at your hands alone.'
It all made sense, he didn't want it to but it did. His body was completely exhausted from his trials, he was covered in cuts and scrapes that he couldn't attribute to anything that had happened to him. The Elves hadn't spoken to him or questioned his taking the lead in the charge, nor had he heard any of them call out. Every sound had been that of an Orc, yet it wasn't until now that the growing unease he had felt had finally come to light. Flashes of memory struck him as if prompted, the arrows had been fired from his bow and the ensuing explosions had convinced the Orcs that the were under attack from a much greater force. He had made his way through the pandemonium and secured entrance to the
stronghold, fighting his way through to Sarvacts unaided and slaying the brute. The resulting detonation had destroyed those few that he had not finished off. He really had killed all of them.
He expected grief to wash over him at the loss of life, shame to take him for his actions, perhaps even anger at himself for not seeing the truth sooner. Instead all he felt was hunger, a desire to continue stronger than anything he had felt before. They would pay for what they had done to his people, what they had done to him.
'Good,' the voice crooned. 'Finally you understand your place in this world, we shall speak further when every Orc lies dead at your feet. There are many trials ahead for you and many battles yet to fight.'
Fingering the pommel of his hunting knife and stretching out his injured leg, El-Vador limped away from the crater and into the lands beyond. There was murder on his mind and vengeance in his heart.
Interlude
As a youth I wasn't given much time to grow into this world. My parents were dead and all that I had known had become dust and ash. Many would grieve over this until they had joined their immediate ancestors in the earth, yet I find myself thankful for all that was done to me. Every experience I faced and all that I have seen in my many years has come about because of that event. Those who see my woes as cataclysmic misconstrue the nature of this narrative. Rather it has been catalytic and in its own way has empowered me to convey these tales. Consider what you will of them, they are not a cry for help or a document of my failures. With that in mind I continue with this new volume for any eyes that may breach its inner meaning.
'Fingering the pommel of his hunting knife and stretching out his injured leg, El-Vador limped away from the crater and into the lands beyond. There was murder on his mind and vengeance in his heart.' the Elf said, then was silent.
The sound of a number of quills cautiously being set down was the only audible thing remaining, the rest of the room stared at El-Vador and waited for his next words.
Sergeant Sykes hadn't made much of the creature's first tale to begin with. His curiosity had been peaked to some degree before encountering the thing, but it was primarily for the practical purpose of protecting those around him should it pose a threat to their well-being.
Though the creature's ramblings didn't interest him he was forced into listening to them, his duty as captain of the guard demanded that he be wary of every potential threat and as a result he had to remain with the magi that had summoned El-Vador at all times.
As the tale dragged on it became apparent that their captive wasn't planning any immediate escape from the cylindrical energy field that held it in thrall.
A strange sensation had passed over Sykes then, he resisted the insidious nature of it for as long as he could but ultimately it overpowered him. The voice of the Elf had a melodious quality to it as it spoke directly into the guard's mind and as a result Sykes found himself wanting to hear more.
The Elf did not speak any further, it sat watching them from its cage with an indecipherable look passing over its features. The Arch-Inquisitor had still not arrived and it seemed to Sykes that nobody knew what to do next. So be it.
'Your story doesn't tell us how you came by the power you have now.' the guard said, causing a sharp intake of breath from those around him. Clearly they didn't trust the energy field they had conjured to hold such a beast.
The Elf flashed a smile at him, he felt anything but reassured by it. There was something predatory and entirely unwholesome about those gleaming teeth and wicked eyes. Sykes tensed slightly, expecting the creature to leap out at his throat.
'What is your name, guard captain?' it asked.
'I am called Sykes.' he replied, realising too late that there may be unseen implications in the creature knowing his name.
'Sykes, eh? A dependable name, from the look of you I'd say you were a man of duty and honour and respect. You've climbed to the position you now hold in this life by being punctual and efficient and lacking bedazzlement when placed in situations such as this.'
Sykes nodded, he saw no harm in agreeing with the creature's fair if overly flattering assessment.
'Sykes, you pose an excellent question. Why indeed should I claim to reveal all about my history only to unveil the beginning and go no further?'
The creature flexed its legs experimentally, Sykes raised his weapon and the other guards hesitantly joined him in preparing to protect the expended magi.
El-Vador's legs stretched out, beyond that he did nothing to warrant such an increase in caution. It was as if he were getting comfortable in his surroundings.
'I believe that I shall be doing this for an extended degree of time, I merely take this moment to compose the bygone events in their logical order for the next recitation. The second volume if you will. I believe I know where to begin my next tale.'
Straightening up in the seat slightly, the creature took a deep breath and spoke once more.
'Hark these words, all that would hear them and judge me. The second of my tales begins in a time soon after the first ended, listen carefully.'
Without prompting, the scribes readied their quills and once more committed the creature's words as El-Vador began to speak.
XII
I know many things, fair reader, as the more discerning of you have potentially ascertained from the previous narrative. In spite of my accumulation of knowledge there still remain darker corners of this world to which I am not privy. Little did I realise that the focal point of my youthful indiscretion was a target far beyond my meagre skills. I know not how he survived our struggle in the stronghold, perhaps it matters not. The beast that cursed bloody death upon my people managed it all the same. Now that he had tasted defeat of a different kind, his vengeance had a focal point in one person. I was the target of his hatred and every faculty he possessed to bring about my undoing.
Sarvacts paced through the inner chambers of his sanctum, he was a Chief no more.
It was his place to live amongst the darkness and horror that had brought him exile, for now it had become his vessel for vengeance. The Elven wastes had been littered with them, the very building blocks of his future triumph lying face down in the packed ice and snow. Orcs and Elves alike, all akin to each other when split open to offer service unto his arts. What better way to wreck havoc upon the one who had destroyed his previous efforts to expunge the Elven race from this world than by using the corpses of those he once called kin?
His contemporaries had been blind to his studies, they saw only the misfortune that they had wrought rather than the potential. They had banished him for his crime and destroyed his experiments before his very eyes. He was still angered by that thought in the dark hours, knowing too well that it was a cover. They needed a scapegoat excuse to get rid of him and had been looking for one for a long time. The Orcish people were superstitious and naïve, his discoveries could have been a great boon to their kind. Instead he had been exiled to the wastes in the hopes that he would die out there. That would all change in due course, but not before he ended the life of that which had disfigured him so.
The broken pieces of mirror littered the walls of the sanctum, throwing Sarvacts' ravaged features back at him and serving as a constant reminder of what he had become. He cared no longer about the chill that his icy domain exuded, his mind bent fully upon this one task and his body but an unfeeling tool to execute his plans.
He was alone here with the corpses of his enemies, both the beginning and the end of his plans. Little need had he of company from his fellow Orcs, sufficient as he was with his minions.
They did not think or feel beyond what he told them to, nor did they require much sustenance in order to continue applying his will. They were slaves forever in servitude to his power and wished nothing more than to carry out his goals.
Sarvacts smiled to himself, it wouldn't be long now. The Elf would come and he would suffer the consequences, drawn to him like the rodent prey that he occasionally feasted upon. His laughter rose now and
the sound echoed through the chamber, bouncing from the chill surfaces and carried out into the snowy wastes he now called home.
They shuffled mindlessly through the corridors of the abandoned structure, an army of his own creation. Orcs with the unfortunate chance of perishing under his command and Elves with the foolishness to stand against him. Their weapons were stilled now, they fought not under the dominion of Sarvacts. Through what was left of their minds Sarvacts divined a great many things of his enemy.
He walked deeper into the bowels of this great fortress and a scant warmth touched his bones. He was a creature of purpose and death and surrounded himself with corpses. The stench of death had long stopped holding sway over his senses.
Sarvacts strode into the depths of his domain, his Orcish eyes unaffected by the dark. Soon he would set his final plan in motion and bring an end to this minor setback.
He reached a larger cave within the caverns that lay underneath the main structure, a moment he had waited for had arrived.
'Come forth, your time of service is at hand.' he commanded. His voice echoed through the chamber, it did not greet silence though.
A stirring in the darkness brought forth his greatest creation. There came a shuffling of feet as the figures came out to greet him. The chill air wrapped itself over Sarvacts, he knew that it wasn't from the cold that this sensation arrived.
They drew closer now, forming a circle around Sarvacts without surrounding him.
El-Vador's Travels Page 11