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

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  More galloping horses caught the attention of the group. A captain of the Velian guard was riding up to meet Darius Devale. A heated discussion, followed by a dramatic obscenity from Darius, drew the three companions across the beach to investigate.

  “What’s going on?” Nathaniel asked.

  “The Arakesh has escaped...”

  Everyone turned to look at the elves, still standing with their backs to the shore. There was no time to lose, Nathaniel thought. They had to make it to West Fellion and quickly, before Ro Dosarn struck again.

  “Take me to his cell.” Asher’s request surprised them all. “And have King Rengar’s court mage meet us there.” The ranger directed his request at the captain, who looked to Darius and Nathaniel for permission.

  “You heard him,” Nathaniel ordered.

  Reyna stood and watched as the embers of Mörygan’s pyre were whisked high into the air and carried out to sea. The elf’s body was barely visible between the consuming flames that cremated him. The princess was filled with a strange mix of emotions. It was the first funeral she had ever seen, since no elf had ever died in Ayda, and yet her feelings towards Mörygan confused the way Reyna knew she was supposed to feel. It was a tragedy that a being of such an age had been taken from the world, as it would if any elf died, but her advisor had not been a pleasant one.

  On more than one occasion, Reyna had overheard the cruel things Mörygan had said about her mother. His family lineage had been linked to Valanis at one point, though the princess tried not to let that cloud her opinion. Mörygan had a way of making people dislike him all by himself.

  The truth was, now that he was dead, Reyna felt as if she wasn’t bound to her father’s plans for Illian. It had been Mörygan who had constantly reinforced her father’s will on Faylen and herself. In her heart, Reyna knew that Faylen didn’t agree with the invasion, and that she had secretly wished to accompany her mother in her pilgrimage to the south.

  It dawned on Reyna that it wouldn’t matter what she did, or who she warned. The world of man would be shattered by the elves. But, perhaps she could save a few? The elf glanced behind her to look at Nathaniel, who was talking to Asher and Elaith. The humans she had met thus far had been a mixed bag of personalities, but Reyna wasn’t filled with the urge to kill them all as her father was.

  Reyna looked past the burning pyre and out across The Adean. Somewhere out there, Galanör and his team would be laying siege to Korkanath and freeing Malliath the voiceless. Her father’s plan was coming together, whether she wanted it to or not. The next stage in their plan however, would take many years, giving Reyna more time to prepare. Prepare for what, she thought? What was she going to do exactly? Ruining her father’s plans would have dire consequences that she couldn’t truly fathom, and didn’t want to think of, and yet the alternative was hard to think about as well.

  “He was a vile elf...” Faylen announced over the fire’s crackle.

  Reyna turned in surprise at her mentor’s irreverent comment. It was very uncharacteristic of Faylen to speak her mind so freely, especially to say something so derisive.

  “He didn’t make the best impression.” Reyna compensated for her mentor’s words and kept her own opinion somewhat more guarded.

  Faylen glanced at the princess, apologetically, as if realising for the first time that she had said anything out loud. Reyna kept her smile hidden, enjoying the carefree attitude of her mentor.

  “I recovered his diviner,” Faylen said. “When we have privacy I will inform the king of his death, though I can’t see it changing anything greatly.”

  Reyna faced her mentor with glassy eyes. “Are we really doing this, Faylen?”

  “Do not let your emotions cloud what must be done. I disapprove of your choice to bed the knight, but you are old enough to make your own decisions, so I won’t stop you. But it will change nothing, Reyna. There is nothing we can do to stop what is coming.” Faylen didn’t take her eyes off the pyre.

  “Does that mean we shouldn’t try?” Reyna continued. “I know you disagree with my father’s plan, just as my mother did. You are older and far wiser than I; surely you can see how far we have fallen?”

  “Fallen?” Now Faylen turned to meet Reyna. “We have grown strong under your father’s rule. It is my age and wisdom that allows me to see the danger we face. The humans will inevitably release Valanis, they are too inquisitive and curious for their own good, always striving to cross the next line and achieve more.”

  “Are they not to be respected for that? I know you don’t truly believe your own words, mentor.”

  “They are dangerous, Reyna.”

  The princess could see that, despite everything else, Faylen truly believed that.

  Faylen continued, “When this business with the Arakesh is over, we will return to our duties and see our part in the plan completed.”

  Reyna turned back to Mörygan’s burning body, feeling more trapped than ever. She glanced back again and saw a captain of the guard conveying what looked to be grave news to Nathaniel and the others.

  “I think something bad has happened...” Reyna said.

  “Thank goodness.” Faylen’s words surprised the princess yet again. “If we stand here any longer, we’ll never get the smell of smoke out of our clothes.”

  Nathaniel looked at what was becoming an all too familiar sight since he had taken up new company. The hacked and broken bodies of eight Velian guards lay strewn across the small room in front of Ro’s cell. Asher stood at the forefront of the group, taking in the scene with experienced eyes.

  “What do you see, ranger?” the king asked.

  “He didn’t escape.” Asher surprised them all. “He was broken out.”

  “How can you tell?” Reyna looked around, but like Nathaniel, she couldn’t see what the ranger did.

  “The position of the bodies,” Asher explained. “Look at how they fell, the positions of the wounds. They’re each holding their sword, or it’s close by. Yet they were all killed by blades, fine ones if their broken armour is anything to go by.”

  Nathaniel looked at all those things, but still couldn’t see what Asher did. The room was a bloody mess, with a solid door lying in the middle of the room atop a broken table. It seemed perfectly plausible that Ro had escaped his cell and killed them all.

  “Galkarus...” Asher faced the court mage. “In my travels I once came across another ranger who favoured magic. I saw him use Kayt dust to look into the past and see what monster had attacked a merchant convoy. From then on I have always kept a pouch of Kayt dust one me, but I confess the spell eludes my memory. Do you know of it?”

  Nathaniel thought about Asher’s natural grasp on the magic world, and doubted the man couldn’t use the spell without knowledge of the ancient language. Was the ranger asking Galkarus to help simply to hide his own talents?

  “I do,” Galkarus replied coolly, not meeting his king’s questioning look.

  “Then why haven’t you already used it?” King Rengar snapped. He was clearly displeased with his entire staff after last night’s events.

  Galkarus bowed awkwardly and moved to take the pouch of Kayt dust from Asher. With his powerful staff in hand, the wizard threw the pouch high into the air so that the blue coloured dust rained over the room. His staff boomed, as he slammed the bottom into the floor, while an unintelligible spell could be heard under his breath. Nathaniel looked on in wonder, when the dust fell and sparkled in the torchlight, until figures became visible, made from the blue dust.

  “Incredible...” Elaith looked on with the same wonder as Nathaniel.

  Galkarus moved aside as a tall figure in long robes took his place in the dust. The guards were all sitting round the table that was still visible through the dust. After a moment’s pause, where Nathaniel assumed some verbal altercation had taken place, the robed man burst into action with two short-swords, hacking and slashing at the men. They fought back, but to no avail, and the robed figure quickly dispatched them all.
The dust was incredible, but it wasn’t accurate enough to discern the features of the man’s face.

  When the last guard had been slaughtered, the shadowy figure used what must have been magic to remove the door with such force, and without touching it. Nathaniel noted the absence of a wand or staff, and wondered if the others had seen the same thing. There were only two people the Graycoat knew of that could manipulate magic without Demetrium; one was Asher, and the other were elves. Since it couldn’t have been Asher, Reyna or Faylen, it could only mean there was another elf out there. A bad one.

  Galkarus used his staff to drive the Kayt dust into the cell, where the group continued to watch as the robed figure made his way inside. There was a long moment while they spoke in silence, until more magic was used to break the assassin’s bonds and then...

  Nathaniel squinted and narrowed his eyes, as if that would clear up the unusual sight. The two men stepped into a swirling coalescence of blue dust, before vanishing completely.

  “What was that?” Elaith asked.

  Thankfully, Nathaniel wasn’t the only one with surprise on his face, though he noticed the look that Reyna and Faylen shared. The elves knew something, but the Graycoat knew better than to ask in front of the group.

  “Could it be...?” Galkarus asked himself more than anyone.

  “What is it?” King Rengar urged.

  “They used a portal,” Asher stated flatly.

  Galkarus nodded his agreement and the elves kept quiet.

  “I thought such magic was unknown.” King Rengar looked to his court mage, suspiciously.

  “It is!” Galkarus was quick to reply. “Or... it should be. Korkanath has never unlocked the secrets to teleportation. The elves, perhaps?” The wizard looked to Reyna and Faylen in hopes of unlocking the mystery.

  “No.” Faylen didn’t hesitate. “We would not have sailed across The Adean if there was another way.” Nathaniel didn’t know Faylen well enough to determine whether she was lying, but he could see that she wasn’t telling the whole truth either.

  “It must be the Black Hand!” Galkarus exclaimed. “They must have discovered the ancient magic. We must inform the Magikar at once.”

  “No!” Rengar raised his hand. “No one except those present is to know of this.” The king was worried about losing face, no doubt.

  “It was Nightfall,” Asher announced, crouched by the body of a dead guard. His fingers traced the edges of the chainmail that had been sliced apart by the attacker. “They were just clearing up their mess, leaving no trace.”

  “You call this clearing up a mess?” Darius opened his arms wide to the room full of bodies.

  “Silence!” Rengar held up another hand. “Explain, ranger.”

  “I have seen those blades before.” Asher waved his hand at the floating blue dust. “This was just another assassin sent to make sure that no one got any secrets out of Ro Dosarn. He’ll be punished for his failure.”

  “But they will come again...” Faylen wasn’t asking.

  “Then why are we still here?” Nathaniel turned to make room for the elves, as the unlikely companions made to leave. “We ride for West Fellion.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Ancient History

  The ten-foot wooden doors groaned and protested, as Alidyr pushed his way into Nightfall’s archives, with Ro Dosarn close on his heel. Just as every other room was steeped in darkness, so too were the archives. High-back chairs were tucked neatly underneath the long tables that lined the centre of the room. The walls matched that of a grand library, its shelves filled with scrolls and parchments dating back to Nightfall’s earliest days.

  Alidyr’s sharp nose wrinkled from all the dust that clouded the room, though his exquisite hearing and extra magical senses informed him of their privacy. The information stored in this room was but the first part in putting together the puzzle that surrounded Asher.

  Ro followed him perfectly through the darkness, thanks to the Nightseye elixir flowing through his veins. Alidyr could sense the man’s trepidation in his presence - the assassin was still expecting to be punished for his failure, and even though Alidyr was tempted, he had better use for the human.

  “You now know of the one I serve.” The elf continued to search through the scrolls in the pitch black. He had informed Ro of the part he played in the larger game, and that Valanis was the true master that they all served, even if the Arakesh didn’t know it. “Valanis will rise again, and the Arakesh will be his fist. In serving him, you will be rewarded more richly than you could ever be as the Father of Nightfall.” Alidyr stopped and faced the assassin, each able to see the other with perfect clarity. “Your failure in Velia has forced my hand. Paldora’s gem must be retrieved at all costs, but I see no reason why we can’t take out two birds with one stone. The elves and the ranger seek shelter at West Fellion, a long-standing thorn in our side and a potential threat in Valanis’s grand plan for Illian.” Alidyr was building up to his deception, a well crafted and rehearsed speech.

  Humans were so easily manipulated.

  “You, Ro Dosarn, are to seek out any and all allies of Nasta Nal-Aket.” Alidyr ignored the assassin’s curious expression. “If their allegiance to the Father is confirmed, you are to quietly remove them.”

  “Master...?”

  “Make no mistake, what we do next will shake Nightfall to its core, but it is necessary to make it stronger. When you have taken care of his allies, I will replace Nasta Nal-Aket as Father and lead the Arakesh into a new era.” Alidyr could see the betrayal Ro felt in his expression. “Have no fear, you will be Father. When the gem is in my hands I will gladly hand Nightfall over to you, as my services to Valanis will take me away from my duties here.” There it was, the perfectly crafted lie. The elf could tell Ro had lapped up his every word and taken it as truth.

  Fool.

  “As the master wills it.” Ro bowed his head.

  “No, as Valanis wills it...” Alidyr corrected, before dismissing the assassin.

  When the doors closed behind Ro, Alidyr went back to his search. The elf knew that Asher had joined their ranks a few decades ago, but couldn’t remember the exact year. He started at three decades past and worked his way down from there, fingering every scroll to check the name. At last, when he reached as far back as four decades to the year, Alidyr pulled free the bound parchment that belonged to Asher.

  The master assassin pulled the knot and laid the scroll out across the table, weighing it down with decorative candles that had never been lit. The elf took in every detail of the information on the page. This piece of parchment was the only thing in all of Illian that had any information about Asher before his initiation.

  Just as he had remembered, the scroll confirmed that Nasta Nal-Aket was the one who brought Asher to Nightfall. As a boy, Asher had claimed to be nine years old when he arrived at the order’s door. Knowing that the ranger was forty-nine in age did nothing to inform Alidyr of why he had a piece of Paldora’s gem. He skimmed through the details of the boy’s height and weight, pausing over the detail pertaining to the black-fang tattoo, below his left eye. Why did that give him pause? The elf had seen that Outlander tattoo himself, when the man had been an assassin. So why did he read it over and over again?

  Frustrated, Alidyr read on. Nasta claimed that the boy was an orphan without a clan or tribe, or whatever the Outlanders liked to have. The assassin had found the boy outside...

  Elethiah!

  Asher, an Outlander without a clan, had been found wandering outside Elethiah. There was no mention of the boy wearing a gem or a crystal, or anything that matched Paldora’s gem. It was too much of a coincidence that the boy had been found in the last place the gem had been seen. And yet, Elethiah was impenetrable thanks to the Amber spell and the protective spells, placed over it by the elves after the Dark War. A small boy couldn’t have found a way inside, and that’s if the gem was still inside the old capital. That thought set off a chain of older thoughts, long forgotten ins
ide Alidyr’s mind. Now he knew why the tattoo felt relevant.

  The elf scrunched the scroll in his hand and marched from the archives with haste. His thoughts raced around inside his mind, as the puzzle began to unfold, however unlikely it may be. Once returned to his chambers, Alidyr locked the door and clicked his fingers, setting every candle and torch alight. In a place where the dark gave the predators power, it was always sensible to rest in the light.

  To complete his investigations and prove his theory correct, Alidyr had to check a very different archive. He kicked the small rug aside, at the foot of his bed, and knelt down to where a circle of ancient glyphs were engraved into the stone. With his hand flat in the middle of the ring, Alidyr sent a mental command that activated the magical ward placed over the stone. The elf stood back and the circle separated into large chunks, where one-by-one they descended below the floor, until a spiral staircase was created.

  Alidyr made his way down into the secret room, aware that he hadn’t been down here for many years. Another click of his fingers illuminated the room with candles and a single torch at the end of a small table. Like the archives, this room was walled with shelves lined with leather-bound books and scrolls lodged between the gaps. No searching was required in his personal library, however. Alidyr knew exactly what he was looking for amongst the many diaries and journals of hundreds of elves, each chronicling the history of the land and their immortal race.

  A light brown book, larger than most, was taken from the shelf and placed delicately on the table. He released the scrunched up piece of parchment and opened the great book with care, filing gracefully through the pages. This particular volume had been one of the first accountings of the events after the attack on Elethiah. It was among the oldest of tomes owned by the elf.

  After finding the entry he desired, Alidyr sat down and slowly read through every line. It spoke of the brief hunt for Paldora’s gem after the Amber spell was enacted. Nalana, a Dragorn and high priestess in the court of the king, told of how she gave the gem to a human, an Outlander, shortly after Valanis stormed the city. She had hoped, it seemed, that the boy could smuggle the gem out of the city unseen, and that she knew the boy well. The hunt had been brief of course, when the boy, a native of the Wild Moores, could not be found. The elves had scoured the vast forest and questioned many of the tribes, but the boy with the black-fang tattoo was gone. Deciding that the gem might be better lost; the hunt had come to an end and with it the power to either free or destroy Valanis.