by R. J. Batla
“I agree, sir,” Royn said, checking his badge. “We’re almost out of time to complete our inspection of the preparations being made. We’d better hurry if we’re going to make the council meeting. I can’t bend time, you know.”
Ames laughed and walked toward the Wall, the dormant power within pulsing with the life around it. It had stood for thousands of years and no army or creature had ever breached it, due both to its size and stored power. Checking the various military equipment being compiled, they came upon a black mark on the wall. Maybe twenty feet wide, it was the only scar on the otherwise smooth surface. Only one had ever managed to scratch it. And now he was coming back to try again.
Ames shook his head. “This seems to be in order, Royn; let’s head back to Harlingon.” Royn nodded, grabbed Ames’ hand, and in a flash of blue, they were back in the capital, just outside the council chambers.
“Councilman, good to see you. Commander,” a guard said, moving aside and opening a door to let them through.
“Thanks, Captain,” Royn said, stepping through the doors to the council auditorium with Ames Talco. “Councilman, do you think they’ll support your idea? Will this whole thing work?”
Ames laughed and hit Royn on the back. “I have no idea, old friend. But we have to try. It’s all our lives at stake after all. You’d better take your seat; we’ll begin shortly.” Ames gave Royn another pat then stepped down onto the floor of the auditorium. Shaped like a giant bowl, thousands of seats surrounded a square table situated directly in the middle with enough chairs for all nine councilmen and chairs for their support staff behind them. Ames looked around – they might reach capacity soon. That would be the first time it happened in a while. He always loved this room – the highly decorated columns that lined the outer rim, supporting the massive domed ceiling so high, it looked like twinkling stars.
Matter of fact, they were twinkling, with some trick of the light from the Dwarves who built this place.
A rainbow of the peoples of Terraunum circled the table in reds, greens, and blues all mixing together yet staying separate. Mingling and talking, they sat mostly with their brethren. Ames shook his head – thinking they’d better come together quickly, or this could mean their downfall.
Two minutes later, a gong sounded from somewhere and everyone quit milling about and headed for their seats. Nine people, including himself, in white robes took seats at the square table in the center of the large chamber. Each robe had a different colored stipe and insignia, indicating who they represented. Ames looked at the first row of seats and counted – every nation was represented here. Every king and queen had come, and the humans were represented by the three generals of the Senturian Corps, Army, and Rangers.
A second gong sounded and all the council took their seats, an amazing stillness settling on everyone there. Ames took a deep breath, stood up with his hands still resting on the table, and spoke loudly, the small amplistone attached to his robe increasing the volume of his voice. “Greetings to all the nations and peoples present. I sincerely apologize for the short notice, but I think you would agree that it was necessary. Preparations need to increase, and before those can begin, decisions have to be made.”
Many people around nodded their heads. Good. Ames would need that support as they went through the day.
Ames took a deep breath. “As you know by now, Azle Goree, also known as Malstrak, is planning to attack the Wall. Not just any attack, but an invasion, one on a grand scale. We’re not sure of his exact intentions or methods, but we do know he plans to take over the East Side of the Breaks by force and subjugate its people – all of us – to his rule. What you’re probably wondering is what else we know. Commander Riddick, if you please. He is the head of Ranger intelligence,” Ames said, gesturing to a short man off to the side, who stepped forward. A lit map of Terraunum appeared on the table, and on screens that had dropped down over the council’s table so the audience could see.
“Hello, everyone. As Councilman Talco said, we don’t know everything. Malstrak has been recruiting heavily from all of the villages and towns on the West Side, promising everything from riches to powers to those who join up with him. Malstrak has also been pulling together many ‘dark’ creatures who normally would not interact. They’re massing at three points – here, here, and here.” As he pointed, three red dots appeared on the map – one in the Shadow Mountains, one where the Zuiden River emptied into the South Sea, and one just north of the lone rail line on the West Side, very close to the Wall.
“His plan, from what we’ve gathered – at the cost of several of our best agents, I might add –is a two-pronged invasion: one straight at the Wall, the other to cross the South Sea and follow the Trinity River, through Elmendorf, all the way to Harlingon.”
A chorus of gasps and murmurs erupted and the gong had to sound several times before everyone quieted down. Several runners swiftly moved between the councilmen and the various royalty, conveying messages and information. The Elves had the biggest reaction, understandable as the second path would take the invading army directly through their land and their capital. The cost would be heavy for the Elves.
One of the leaders for the Aeren raised his hand, and Ames gestured to him. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Councilman, but I thought the cliffs all along the shore of the West Side prevented such a thing from happening? Wasn’t that the original design: to force anyone crossing over to come through the Breaks?”
“Councilman Hooks Fulshear, if you please,” Ames said, as a short, slab-of-beef of a man rose from his seat at the council table. The Dwarf was thick, all of it muscle. As tall as he was wide, his face was almost entirely covered in either his long brown hair or his massive curly brown beard.
“We originally thought that as well – the histories tell us that our Dwarven ancestors forged the cliffs along the entire west side with Earth powers, and they designed it where any tampering would result in some sort of explosion and a new cliff face would appear. Our enemy has come up with an inventive solution – instead of breaking down the cliffs, they simply raised the ocean floor to create a flat shelf on which to build! They then build an elaborate lift system to lower supplies, and are building the ships right at the mouth of the Zuiden River using the waterfall to operate their machinery. It’s really quite remarkable.”
Ames smiled. Even though all the councilmen were of equal rank, there were some who rose above the others. Ames was one, Hooks Fulshear was another. “Thank you, Councilman Fulshear,” Ames said as the Dwarf sat down. “Before any more questions, we have another report. Commander Riddick, if you please?”
The Ranger nodded. “Many of you may or may not know, but on the West Side – here,” he said, pointing to a place labeled The Bowl, “is where a large, gladiator-style tournament takes place each year.
“This year’s tournament is just wrapping up. Two fighters go in; one is either killed, incapacitated, or gives up, and the winner moves on to the next round. The champion of the tournament is given a very valuable prize, changing each year. Our intelligence tells us that the prize for next year, whatever it is, will enable the enemy to breach the Wall.”
The audience burst into conversation.
“How can that be?”
“What could do such a thing?”
“How do we know that’s true?”
“How do we stop it?”
Those any many more flooded the chamber with noise. Ames shook his head, and saw Royn doing the same. It was hard to believe that one object could bring down the Wall, something of such power that had stood for a thousand years.
Again, it took several gongs before the din was quieted.
“I’ll take questions but only one at a time,” Ames said, and many hands shot up. He started calling on people and answering the questions as quickly as they came.
“What is the artifact?”
“It’s called a Darkstone.”
“What does it do? And why is it so valuable that it’s given as a
prize?”
“It’s an amazing creation. This is only the second one we’ve ever heard of, the other appeared just before Malstrak was banished, in the city of Nordlich, for which the forest on the West Side was named. The people in the village in which it was discovered started having some amazing breakthroughs. Everyone in the town was healed of all ailments, abilities of all kinds were greatly enhanced, and powers Awakened in every citizen. The town and everyone in it was blessed with uncanny luck. In fact, the Darkstone was rumored to turn objects into solid gold.”
A husky Dwarf laughed. “I wouldn’t mind having this thing myself. Maybe I should join the tournament. What’s the downside to it?”
“From what we know, it greatly enhances the Morsenube power, among other things, which would bestow Malstrak with the energy required to break through the Wall.”
A rumble of unease went through the room.
“What happened to the town?” someone asked
“The Darkstone was destroyed and the town fell to ruin almost immediately. The forest took it over,” Ames said.
“If the effects of the Darkstone are so volatile, why is it being offered as a prize?”
Royn shared a look with Ames before answering. “A…person…called the Uland has won the tournament for the last ten years. Entrants have decreased annually, as they say he’s unbeatable. In order to get people to sign up, they’re offering something truly enticing that people will be willing to risk their lives for.”
“What’s the point in sending an entrant if he’s just going to lose to this Uland?”
Ames said, “We’re hoping the Oracles will have some insight for us on how best to beat the creature.”
“Why wouldn’t we steal it before the tournament began, if we know that’s the prize?”
Commander Riddick answered, “It’s already been entered into the vault in the Bowl arena, and it’s been closed for the year. It will only open again for the tournament winner. That’s how it was designed. No winner, no vault access. As a matter of fact, someone already tried to break in and steal it – and there weren’t enough pieces of them left over to fill a dustpan.”
“Could we steal it from the winner after the fact?”
Ames said, “That’s risky as well. We would have to make plans on the fly, depending on who won – how they would exit and what powers they had. It might even take an army to subdue the winner if it’s the Uland. And if we’re having to defend the Wall from attack, we won’t be able to muster a force of enough size to invade the whole West Side in order to get to the Bowl. We would be fighting a war on their side.”
“What’s keeping Malstrak from stealing it from the winner?”
“Nothing. Except I think he’s already made a deal with many of the people in charge on the West Side to acquire the Darkstone no matter what.”
Royn stood up. “Which is why I’ll be accompanying the chosen fighter. I can teleport him back here as soon as he’s in possession of the Darkstone. It’s the safest way we can figure to protect the winner and the Darkstone.” He sat back down with a nod to Ames.
“Why doesn’t Malstrak just go win the tournament himself?”
“That we don’t know or can’t guess. He either thinks it’s beneath him, would rather have his men do it, or he’s too busy planning an invasion,” Ames answered.
“Can we use it against him?”
“Maybe,” Ames said.
People began talking amongst themselves again, and Ames let it go for five minutes before nodding to the gong ringer, who obliged. The crowd silenced quickly, and Ames gestured to another of the council, the Manu. “Kilgore Pharr, will you please explain the plan, as we see it now?”
Councilman Pharr rose. “The plan is simple. Number one – someone will enter the tournament to keep the prize from enemy hands. If they are unsuccessful, we intend to ensure the next step is secure enough to handle any additional complications. Whoever is entered will have to get to the Bowl before February of next year, when the tournament starts. Number two – we believe the enemy will try the invasion regardless of the possession of the weapon, so we will mass defensive armies here, here, here, and here,” he said, as blue dots appeared at the Wall, the East Gate, the mouth of the Trinity, and at the Elf Capital of Elmendorf. “These will be our defenses against Malstrak’s forces. More questions?” He returned to his seat.
The Helion representative stood, icy-blue skin identifying him instantly. Ames said, “Councilman Winters.”
“My king wants to know where these armies are going to come from. How will we decide who goes where? He will not send our entire army and leave our homeland open for invasion should your plans fail. It’s out of the question.”
The Aeren councilman stood and Ames nodded.
“If we do not defend against this attack, there won’t be any home left to protect! With all due respect, your highness,” Councilman Tahoka Alpine said, bowing to the Helion king. “Conversely, the Aeren will support whatever decision the council makes. I would imagine the bulk of the meeting today will be hashing out such matters. There is, however, a more important question – who will be sent to this tournament? And why? We’re only sending one person? Why not several – that would up our chances of winning, wouldn’t it?” The councilman sat back down.
“Commander Riddick?” Ames asked.
The Ranger commander nodded. “We were only able to secure one entry – the feudal lords who control the West Side value their entries greatly. The entry deadline had already passed, so we had to pay someone to give up their spot – and it was a hefty fee at that. People really want a chance at the Darkstone.”
“And as far as who it will be,” Ames said, “we must vote on how that decision is made. As you know, the Oracles reside here in Harlingon. Right now, they have the names of all the Senturians on the East Side. The Oracles are doing everything they can to prompt a vision. Though these visions are never concrete, not like the prophets of old, the Oracles do get glimpses of the future. I move that we use the Oracles’ talents to find the Senturian who will give us the best chance to win.”
“I second,” said the Phoenix councilman. “Shall we?”
Ames nodded. “You have ten minutes to discuss with your leaders. At the sound of the gong, we’ll meet back here and cast our vote.”
The crowds burst into conversation. Ames tried not to pace as he waited.
Ten minutes flew by, the gong went off, and the Council was seated. Immediate silence.
Ames asked, “All in favor?”
All nine hands went up, the Helion and Dwarves rather reluctantly.
“It is decided. Councilman Fulshear, will you please send one of your runners to tell the Oracles of their task?”
Royn spoke in Ames Talco’s head, using his Mindspeak power. Seems a little too easy. No shouting, no arguments, no nothing. I guess I was expecting more...something…
Ames said, I agree, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Then aloud, “Let’s move on, shall we? Here’s the route we expect our champion to take to get to the Bowl…”
“Answer me this, Commander Royn,” the Helion King asked. “If you can teleport our champion with the Darkstone back here, why not just teleport them there?”
Royn said, “Great question, your majesty. My power, like most teleportation powers, requires either line of sight or having been to a place before. I could maybe make it to the Bowl by myself, then be able to teleport our champion there, but that would be at the risk of me getting captured, killed, or otherwise incapacitated. There’s only one other teleporter capable of making such a jump, but I haven’t been able to confirm if they will participate. We’re working that angle as we speak.
“Additionally, without a properly prepared and shielded room, which I would need to be there for, Malstrak has found a way to track my teleportation. I’ve recently made several trips to the West Side, and each time was attacked within minutes of my arrival. It’s safe to say that at this time, me telep
orting the champion is out of the question.”
Apparently satisfied, the council lined out how the different armies would be divided, who went where, how many each group left behind, and various other details. It was all a game – every group trying to make sure their views were heard, considered, and at the same time, stepping on each other’s toes seemingly just for the fun of it.
Ten hours of meetings, and finally there was a result. The small naval force in Luling, on the Lone Isle, would do as much damage as they could to the incoming force. Additionally, what was left of the Tempus navy based in Elmendorf would also fight on the water, trying to stop the invaders before they made landfall. It would most likely be a suicide mission, but the Tempus and the Elves assured everyone that they would be up to the task of fighting on that front.
Most of the Elven and Dwarf armies would be positioned along the Trinity River, as that entry point was closest to their respective land. Several platoons would be sent to reinforce and help defend the Wall, and should it come to it, the Break Pass. The Senturian Corps, Army, and Rangers would be split into fifths – two fifths going to the Wall, two fifths going to the Trinity, and one fifth at the East Gate in reserve. Harlingon would use a smaller force and the police to keep the peace. The Aeren, Manus, Tempus, Reka, and Phoenix would split their armies in half, leaving a small force on the home front. The Helion – who insisted they keep half their force at home and would not be swayed from the point – agreed to split the other half at each engagement point.
Finally, the meeting was adjourned, to be resumed in the morning. Ames and Royn Crowell walked outside, stretching and walking the perimeter of the center tower of Harlingon. “That went OK,” Royn said, “but I still think it was too easy. We’re dealing with Malstrak here – something is up; I just can’t put my finger on it.”