Rise of the Ranger (Echoes of Fate: Book 1)

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  “Then why is it essential that the princess be killed?” Nakir asked. “We are wasting resources.”

  Thallan responded with authority. “Killing her will anger the lord of elves and disrupt their long-term plans. We will force their hand and make them focus their efforts on immediate retaliation.”

  “What of the elves infiltration of Korkanath?” Adellum looked to Thallan.

  It appeared the entire Hand needed reassuring of his execution of the master’s plans. Would they question Alidyr so much?

  Thallan remained calm to show his confidence and control. “Our allies in Ayda have embedded an acolyte within the team; they have informed me that their attack on Korkanath is imminent. Their machinations on that island will only prove to serve our purpose and that of Valanis. Malliath will provide us with the natural magic required to set our master free.”

  “We are foolish to believe they can simply take a dragon, especially one so deeply enthralled,” Samandriel added, confirming for Thallan that the group had no faith in his abilities.

  “They will succeed, Samandriel.” Thallan was finding it harder to contain his temper. “When Valanis is freed of his confinement, he will deliver death from the skies astride the voiceless one.” Thallan couldn’t help but notice the expression of doubt on Alidyr’s face. “Do you have something to add?”

  “You speak of returning our master to power.” Alidyr remained in the doorway. “A dragon will not see to this. We should focus on our primary goal. Valanis will not be returned to full power without Paldora’s Gem. He is vulnerable without it.”

  Thallan didn’t hesitate to respond. “You led us in that quest for a millennium, earning your demotion, Alidyr. Perhaps you have a new insight as to where we should be looking?”

  Alidyr took a breath, leaving the bait. “Paldora’s star will be crossing the heavens soon. For a few precious days we will be able to sense its presence.”

  “The master’s vision will be seen to fruition by us,” Thallan spat. “This is not the time to abandon years of planning. Your business in the south is complete, now discover the depth of this ranger’s involvement and send more of your assassins to kill the princess. I don’t care how many it takes.” Alidyr bowed again in a way that made Thallan want to bury his sword in the miserable cur’s heart. “The rest of you, return to Kaliban.”

  Nakir, Adellum and Samandriel disappeared as quickly as they arrived, leaving Thallan and Alidyr alone. Thallan felt his grip naturally fall onto the hilt of his sword, always anticipating Alidyr’s attempts to take back control of the Hand.

  “You might have Nightfall at your back, brother,” Thallan began. “But you are not the Father. They are not your army and, forgive the pun, but they will not follow you blindly. Do not forget why you started the order of the Arakesh in the first place. All live to serve Valanis.”

  “How could I, under such wisdom and guidance?” With that, Alidyr turned and strode away, down the corridor. Thallan resisted the urge to throw a knife into his back.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nightfall

  The wall slid back into place, behind Alidyr, sealing the entrance to the Hand’s meeting room. The segment of wall was adorned with a floor-to-ceiling tapestry of Kaliban, the formidable-looking fortress built into the Vengora Mountains, in the Ice Vales. Most of its magnificent architecture was now buried under tons of rock after a thousand years without upkeep. It was in that place of solitude that Valanis had taught Alidyr and the others the real commandments of the gods. From within its dark embrace, they had each learned to use the magic of Naius under the master’s watchful eye.

  With a tender hand, Alidyr caressed the canvas, as if he could will the fortress to return to its original majesty. His failure to Valanis weighed heavy on his heart. For a thousand years he had searched for Paldora’s Gem, even creating the Arakesh to help him find it and generate wealth to increase his resources, but the stone was lost to all. For four decades Alidyr had paid the price and suffered under the new reign of Thallan, as head of the Hand. Thallan was determined to steer events across all of Verda to meet the master’s original vision, foregoing the search for the gem. Alidyr was the only one who truly believed in Nalana’s prophesy and the gem’s significance. He had to find it.

  Thallan’s details about his encounter with Asher had perked Alidyr’s interest. He stated that the ranger stood unaffected by the power bestowed to them by Valanis. Alidyr had seen countless humans and elves fall under the scrutiny of that magic, there were no counterspells or wards that could keep the raw magic of Naius at bay. As a god, Naius was infallible and therefore unchallenged by anything that roamed Verda’s lands.

  Except...

  Alidyr paced the floor of his luxurious chamber, working through his thoughts to find a logical explanation. The only thing capable of challenging the power of a god was another god. The powerful magic given to Valanis had been a gift from Naius, but the gem was a gift from Paldora, the Goddess of the stars. The master had told them that the goddess created the gem to help Valanis control the untameable magic of Naius. Without the gem, the magic would consume Valanis and end the work of the gods.

  Could Asher be in possession of Paldora’s Gem? If he not only stood against Thallan but repelled him, it stood to reason that the traitor must be wielding something of great magical significance, if not the gem. Perhaps the gem had been handed down through his family’s generations?

  He would have answers.

  Alidyr’s feet echoed through the cold corridors of Nightfall. Being the most respected and feared master in the order, he took no care to hide his passage through the maze of hallways. As he travelled deeper into the hive, the sound of clashing swords from the training arena became ever distant. Day or night, the Arakesh fought against one another to harden themselves, seeking out their own weaknesses and eradicating them, whether that be a characteristic or an individual.

  The pitch-black would inspire terror and primordial fear in any other being to walk Nightfall’s corridors. There wasn’t a single torch or lantern outside of the individual rooms. Most feared what lurked in the dark, the monsters that took shape in the shadows of a fearful imagination. The Arakesh thrived in the dark, they needed it to live. With the power of Valanis flowing through his veins, Alidyr had no trouble seeing in the dark and finding his way to the Cradle.

  Taking greater care with his footfalls, Alidyr slipped into the darkness of the great hall, via one of the balconies that lined the Cradle’s top tier. Without a sound, the elf balanced himself on the balcony rail, with the ease of a cat. Like so many of the Fathers and Mothers before him, Nast Nal-Aket sat cross-legged, praying at the altar of Ibilis, the God of shadows. There were no guards keeping watch over the Father, since he was to appear strong at all times and require no such protection.

  Alidyr had mentored and personally taught every Mother and Father who ruled Nightfall. The elf had always taken the necessary steps to ensure he found the next replacement puppet, guiding and manipulating them in the best way to eliminate the current ruler, or any competitors for the throne. Nasta Nal-Aket had been the first to slip through Alidyr’s plans and kill the elf’s chosen successor, before going on to assassinate the Mother at the time. Nasta had never shown great promise, much like his pet, Asher, who had never shown a talent for magic. For twenty years the human’s rule had put Alidyr on edge, forcing the elf to make certain he still held the upper hand.

  As he always did, Alidyr dropped into the chamber without a sound. He approached the Father with every element of stealth he knew, as well as some added magic to conceal him against the Father’s heightened senses. In moments, he found himself within striking distance of Nasta, reaffirming the knowledge that if he needed to, Alidyr could take the human out of the picture.

  The elf genuflected. “Father...”

  “Every time you sneak up on me, Alidyr, it makes me wonder why I bothered to have my eyes removed.”

  The Father’s white, curly hair and beard
- matched with the wrinkles that lined his tanned skin- gave him the appearance of an old man, fragile and weak. But Alidyr knew better; for a man in his early seventies, Nasta Nal-Aket was in peak physical condition, thanks to his daily fighting rituals with the other assassins.

  With no notion of effort or pain, the old Father came to his feet in one swift motion. Shadowy craters stared back at Alidyr in the dark, the only sound from Nasta’s robes falling into place.

  “To what do I owe the visit, old mentor?” The Father slowly walked over to his throne at the head of the Cradle. “Do you require more ingredients for the Nightseye elixir?”

  “No Father.” Alidyr came into step beside him. “I have come to regretfully report the failure of an assassination.”

  Nasta continued to walk at the same pace, his expression giving nothing away of the surprise he must have felt. Alidyr had hoped to keep the attempt on the princess a secret, but the death of so many Arakesh wouldn’t escape the Father’s attention. Feeding him a half-truth would help to keep the status quo and maintain order through the ranks.

  “I wasn’t aware of any active assignments.” The Father’s tone made it hard for Alidyr to ascertain the truth in that statement.

  “I responded to a contact of my own, in Darkwell, in the north,” Alidyr lied. “The request was put through the appropriate channels and I responded in the interest of the order. The infamous Graycoat Darius Devale was finally causing enough trouble to warrant a desire for our services. My information was that he travelled with a group of Graycoats and a ranger...”

  Alidyr watched the Father’s expression closely, as he took his seat on the angular, stone throne. Word of the ranger made no difference to Nasta’s passive look, and he didn’t appear to detect the lies hidden within the partial truth, either.

  “Continue,” the Father ordered.

  “From what I can gather, Devale survived by the skin of his teeth, while the other Graycoats succumbed to our forces. But the ranger dispatched each and every one of our assassins and lives to tell of it, besmirching our reputation.” The Father remained irritatingly quiet. “The ranger had a name: Asher, an Outlander by his markings. I believe it to be the same man who abandoned our ranks over a decade ago.”

  “Curious, if this ranger dispatched all of the Arakesh, how is it you came by such accurate information?” Nasta’s bottomless eye sockets bored into Alidyr.

  The ancient elf had mastered the beating of his heart centuries ago, allowing him to fool the lie-detecting ears of the Father.

  “I have spent a lifetime amassing spies across Illian, Father. For the sake of our order, I maintain a constant vigilance over the land. One of these spies watched over the fight between the Graycoats and our assassins. He reported the most interesting of encounters upon sighting the ranger. Apparently he used magic without any spells or the use of a wand...”

  “Is there a question in there, Alidyr?”

  “I believe Asher was something of a progeny of yours, was he not?” Alidyr casually walked over to the small table in the corner of the hall and poured himself a cup of wine in the darkness.

  The Father sighed and bowed his head on the throne. “To this day I wonder what happened to him that night.” Alidyr had never seen Nasta display so much emotion - a potential weakness. “I’m sure you recall better than I that he slayed one of his brothers the night he ran from his duties. I was sure for a long time that he would replace me some day.”

  No he wouldn’t, thought Alidyr. The elf had always and was still planning to replace Nasta with Ro Dosarn, a peer of Asher’s.

  “What I recall, Father, are the bodies of our brethren that began to show up after he disappeared.” Alidyr inhaled the wine before sipping it, making certain it hadn’t been poisoned by an overconfident assassin. “I personally saw to the retrieval of them.”

  “His betrayal stung me, personally. It was I who brought Asher to Nightfall as a boy and initiated his training. When he fled I sent many to hunt him down and return him to these walls.”

  “On the occasions that I taught Asher, there was never any indication that he knew his way around magic. He presented as a very average student in that regard...” Alidyr tailed off in hopes of Nasta offering some explanation, but the Father sat in silence. “Where, may I ask, did you find the boy?”

  “In the swamps of Elethiah, just beyond the border of the Wild Moores.”

  Alidyr hid the surprise he felt at the sound of the elves’ old capital city. That was where everything changed, not just for the elves, but also for humanity and all of Verda. His master had been defeated there by the combined magic of the dragons and the elves, ushering in the end of the Dark War and the disappearance of Paldora’s Gem.

  “What was he doing there, Father?” Alidyr pressed, hungry for information.

  “It was forty years ago, Alidyr, and I am no elf. Besides, I don’t see what this has to do with locating him now. I stopped actively sending the Arakesh after him years ago, now they are to bring him back if they come across him. Why the sudden interest in Asher now?”

  Alidyr rolled his eyes at the infuriating lack of memory the old man had. Humans were so weak. The elf returned his empty cup to the table before replying, down-playing his interest in the ranger.

  “He appears to be a more capable killer now than when he was an Arakesh. I suppose I’m just curious as to how he acquired such new skills, in magic no less.”

  Nasta placed his bejewelled hands on the armrests of the throne. “He was always a capable killer, Alidyr. His real talent was hiding that capability.”

  A lesson he learned from you apparently, Alidyr thought.

  “Perhaps,” the Father continued, “his new found strength in magic is a skill he has been forced to learn hiding from us.”

  “You are right of course, Father.” Alidyr bowed, detecting restraint on Nasta’s behalf. There was more to Asher than he was willing to divulge. Such secrecy only served to fuel his interest in the ranger. “I will right this wrong and see to it that Darius Devale is eliminated, immediately. If he is to be found in the company of Asher, what instructions should I give?”

  “The order stands. He is to be brought in alive, Alidyr.”

  “As the Father wills it...”

  In the twilight before dawn, Alidyr sat crossed-legged in the middle of his personal chamber, meditating. The knock at his door had been anticipated seconds earlier ,when the elf’s keen ears had picked up the sound of soft boots.

  “Enter,” he replied.

  Ro Dosarn was covered in head-to-toe black leather armour, with two short-swords strapped to his back. There was a moment of hesitation upon entering the candle-lit room, as his eyes quickly adjusted to the light and his heightened senses faded away. The man’s short, grey hair and neatly trimmed goatee was as uniformed as his appearance. The only individual aspect to the assassin was the twin-braid of hair that hung from his chin. Ro’s skin spoke of a hard life, with a web of lines around his eyes and a permanently furrowed brow. The scar across the bridge of his nose was the most prominent of the old wounds his face bore witness to.

  Alidyr didn’t know where Ro had originally hailed from and the elf didn’t much care, either. The man had been chiselled into a being of war, his only purpose in life to kill and serve. Alidyr had secured his allegiance years ago, with promises of one day killing Nasta Nal-Aket and ruling the Arakesh.

  “You called for me, Master...” Ro genuflected in front of Alidyr.

  “The order requires blood, will you serve?” Alidyr rose to his full height and began to circle the assassin.

  “As the Father wills it,” Ro responded in the only way he had been taught.

  “But the Father does not will it... I do. I have a mission for you that will trigger a chain of events that will put you on the throne.” Ro looked up, eager to hear more. “You are to travel to Velia as soon as we are finished here. There you will track down and kill the traitor, Asher. This will unhinge the Father and give you the edge
and the opportunity to strike him down. The traitor’s body must be returned however, and to me alone. I would inspect his person before you present him to the Father.”

  “Inspect, master?”

  “Should you be unable to bring the body back, you are to search Asher for any jewellery, specifically a black crystal. Above all else you must return this item to me, even if you fail in killing him.” Alidyr rested a hand on the assassin’s shoulder to emphasise the point.

  “I will not fail, Master. If the traitor is in possession of the jewel you seek, you will prise it from his cold, dead corpse yourself.”

  “I would expect no less,” Alidyr continued to circle the man. “I suspect you will find your target in King Rengar’s palace; he will be in the company of Graycoats and three elves, but do not despair, you will have allies waiting for you in Velia.”

  “Elves?”

  Normally, Alidyr would punish an Arakesh for asking so many questions, but confiding in Ro would only serve to convince the assassin into thinking he was valued.

  “Great events are unfolding, events that will change Verda’s landscape forever. You have been chosen, Ro Dosarn, to play a pivotal role on behalf of the gods. I will tell you more before the sun rises, but first, to ensure you are up to the task of defeating these elves, I have prepared a special elixir for you...”

  Chapter Twenty

  First Impressions

  Under the cover of the rain and strong winds, blowing between the buildings, the company of elves and humans secretly entered Velia. King Rengar’s men had already cleared a passage through the streets to keep the group away from the prying eyes of the city’s early risers. The elves wore large, heavy hoods to conceal their pointed ears and keep the weather from disturbing their immaculate features.