Faylen sighed and turned away, her silence the only form of agreement she would give. Nathaniel stepped to the side, looking from Reyna to Asher with curiosity.
“The reason we’re here,” the princess began, “the real reason, is to...”
“Destroy Valanis once and for all,” Faylen interrupted.
Asher had become a master of lies during his time as an assassin, and knew the elf’s words to be true, just not the whole truth. If nothing else, Reyna’s reaction was proof of his suspicions. The princess’s shock quickly changed from surprise to shame, though the ranger couldn’t figure out why.
“In the final days of the Dark war,” Faylen continued, “Valanis marched his army on Elethiah, our capital city. He had heard word that Paldora’s gem had been recovered by Lady Syla, a great hero of that time, and that the gem was under the guard of the royal family.”
“Wait.” Nathaniel waved his hand. “What’s Paldora’s gem?”
“A celestial stone that broke off from Paldora’s star,” Reyna explained. “It was believed by Valanis that Paldora, the Goddess of the stars, had sent the gem to help him control his powers.” Nathaniel’s expression told of his understanding perfectly, or rather his lack of understanding. “Valanis started the Dark War after he discovered the pools of Naius, the God of magic. Nobody knows where they are, but after he swam in them he was possessed with more magic than any elf could handle. It made him unstable and his powers hard to control. He believed that the Gods are trying to find a way to walk on Verda, and that Naius and Paldora have charged him with preparing the way. Paldora’s gem is said to allow its wielder perfect control over magic.”
“However,” Faylen continued, “Lady Syla recovered the gem first. And so the dragons offered their assistance to end his tyranny once and for all. The greatest and oldest of their kind, Garganafan, enacted the Amber spell with the help of our elders. Garganafan sacrificed his life-force to trap Valanis and all of Elethiah in time. After that, wards and spells were set over the city to keep everyone out.”
“Valanis is still in there? So you’ve returned to, what, kill a frozen elf?” Nathaniel asked.
Asher was momentarily distracted by the tug of a memory he couldn’t hold on to. The smell of sulphur filled his nose and the roar of a great beast echoed throughout his mind. The ranger felt as if he had heard some of Faylen’s words before, but where? From Alidyr perhaps?
“It was felt that steps should be taken to eradicate the threat, permanently.” Faylen looked to Reyna, but Asher couldn’t read the silent conversation passing between them. “Humans have made great strides in the world of magic. Our king fears that Elethiah will inevitably be breached, and Valanis freed.”
“That’s why you were happy to be escorted to West Fellion,” Asher’s attention had returned in full. “It’s halfway between Velia and Elethiah.”
“We have studied your maps carefully,” Faylen stated with a sly smile.
“The Graycoats will help you.” Nathaniel squared his shoulders.
Reyna squeezed the knight’s arm with affection that didn’t match her smile. “It’s too dangerous, Nathaniel. The wards that protect Elethiah are powerful; it will take elven magic to find a way in.”
“That’s if there even is a way in,” Asher added.
“Leave that to us, ranger.” Faylen made for the camp, wishing to end the conversation.
“Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves,” Nathaniel said. “The Arakesh are still coming for you, and I don’t think West Fellion will deter them for long.”
Faylen stopped and the companions looked to one another in silence, the gravity of their situation setting in.
“Wake the others,” Asher instructed. “We’re not waiting for dawn.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Pit
The time had come. After a thousand years of nurturing and guiding the Arakesh, the time had finally arrived when Alidyr could use them to serve Valanis. No more controlling from the shadows and manipulating others to do his bidding, but outright command of the most skilled warriors in all of Illian. They could never be compared to the elven soldiers under his command during the Dark War, but the Arakesh surpassed every other fighting force in the world of man.
The ancient elf lurked in the corner of the surrounding balcony, always in darkness, as the men and women, in their final year of graduation, genuflected before the Father. The centre of the rectangular room was dominated by a circular hole that ran deep into the earth, known to all Arakesh as the pit. It was in fact a test devised by Alidyr just over seven centuries ago. In their final year, the would-be-assassins were required to enter the maze of tunnels beneath Nightfall and find their way out, back to the surface of The Arid Lands. Only the survivors could call themselves Arakesh, and survivors they would be if they could fight their way through the nightmarish creatures and fiends that called those dark tunnels home.
“You have trained tirelessly for many years.” The Father was giving his usual speech below. “Pass this final test and you will be true masters of the dark.”
Alidyr surveyed the group of twenty. He recognised them all, having taught them at various stages of their life in Nightfall. Some of them would meet their end in the pit; it was a statistic that had never changed. The elf found himself committing some of their faces to memory for future manipulation and potential replacements for the Father or Mother. He almost laughed out loud when he realised it would no longer be necessary.
Ro Dosarn, a master assassin among his peers, was unable to sneak up on Alidyr Yalathanil. The elf turned to regard the man, before he joined him by the railing. Thanks to potions provided by the elf, Ro’s wounds had almost completely disappeared, though there was no potion to heal the assassin’s pride. In the pitch-black, every assassin’s senses were heightened, including the students below, though none were sharper than Nasta Nal-Aket’s. The Father was no doubt already aware that Alidyr and Ro were watching from the balcony, since the elf took no magical precautions to hide their presence. Both elf and man were trained to keep their heart rates at a steady beat, so as not to give away their intent.
The Father’s allies have been taken care of.
Ro used his hands to communicate in the silent language, known only to the Arakesh. In the perfect darkness, Alidyr could see every flexion of the man’s fingers and hands, understanding him perfectly.
Were there many? Alidyr signed.
More than I would have thought, but now he is alone.
Then it is time.
Ro understood and made another hand gesture that signalled for the other assassins, hiding beyond the balcony’s entrances. More than a hundred Arakesh filled the balcony, with just as many pouring into the rectangular room below. They made no move against the Father, who looked impressively passive towards the unusual gathering. The students appeared surprised and moved away from the pit, as Nasta cut his speech short and faced Alidyr and Ro Dosarn.
“What is the meaning of this?” the Father asked, his eyeless lids looking directly at the elf.
Alidyr strolled to the centre of the balcony, his hand sliding over the rail, while he enjoyed the moment. For so long he had bowed to whatever pathetic human ruled over Nightfall, and now he was finally going to be rid of the last Father.
“I challenge Nasta Nal-Aket for the right to rule!” Alidyr announced to the masses that crowded into the room.
Curiously, the Father didn’t flinch or make any outward appearance that the challenge bothered him. It put Alidyr on edge. Had Nasta perceived this threat and made plans? The old elf used his extra senses in the dark to sweep the room, searching for anything out of place, any heart beat that betrayed a hidden ally of the Father.
“You have enjoyed your position within these walls for a millennium, Alidyr.” Nasta walked round the pit, his hands concealed within his sleeves. “Why now do you choose to challenge the Father?”
“It’s time the Arakesh realised their full potential,” the elf replie
d. “I am going to take this order into a new dawn. I’m afraid that the future of which I speak does not require Nasta Nal-Aket.”
Alidyr deftly flicked his legs over the rail and dropped silently to the floor below. He slipped his long white and gold robe from his shoulders, revealing the twin short-swords on his hips.
Nasta looked around for a moment, scanning the faces of the assassins surrounding them. It amused Alidyr that the Father was no doubt searching for his allies, whom he had prepared for this moment. Allies that Ro Dosarn had already seen to.
“You reap what you sow, Alidyr Yalathanil.” Nasta swept his robes aside and slid the curving sabre, known as Reaver, from its sheath.
The sword of the Father or Mother was an impressive blade, forged by Alidyr himself at the appointment of Nightfall’s first leader, long ago. Its edges were lined in ancient script, designed to inflict extra pain that lasted long after the wound had been tended to.
In the blink of an eye, Alidyr’s magical swords were in his hands, hungry for death. The stored energy within the crystals gave the elf a surge of adrenaline, pushing his heightened senses to their apex. Nasta made no attempt to advance and make the first move, but Alidyr’s blades didn’t care, they needed the elf to lash out and draw blood.
“Fall on your sword and die with honour, Nasta.” Alidyr fought through the urge to strike out, the sight of Reaver giving him pause.
The Father laughed in the dark, surrounded by enemies. “If you fear the bite of my blade, elf, why not send another to fight for you?”
Alidyr leaped the distance between them in two powerful strides and jumped high into the air at the last second. Nasta’s reflexes were proportionate to his stature, as the Father side-stepped the attack and whipped his sabre across Alidyr’s midriff. The slightest of shifts in balance allowed the elf to avoid the blade, though he felt its razor edge slice through the robes across his ribs.
After his feet hit the ground, the fight began in earnest, the two skilled warriors colliding with deadly force. Alidyr’s twin blades whirled around Nasta, as if the elf were naught but a wraith. Nasta danced around him, twirling and spinning, his sabre parrying every blow from the short-swords. Reaver was an extension of the Father’s body, with the blade rolling end-over-end and whipping around his body in defensive and attacking stances. More than once, Alidyr was forced to duck or step back when the human found an opening or pushed one of his magical blades aside. Nasta Nal-Aket was certainly one of the most skilled swordsmen to have held the position of Father.
The pitch black was illuminated by the sparks that exploded from the clashing steel. Each warrior struck the other with more force than any ordinary being was capable of. The surrounding Arakesh moved aside, avoiding the fight which quickly spread across the room, with each combatant leaping and flipping through the air, their swords slashing in every direction. Alidyr ducked under the sweeping arc of Nasta’s blade, before it sliced through one of the pillars as if it were butter. The elf came back up with a combination that set the Father back, towards the pit.
Alidyr used his superior strength and kicked Nasta in the sternum, sending the old man flying backwards. The Father’s tumble quickly turned into a controlled roll that brought the man back to his feet, ready to parry the elf’s next attack, an attack Alidyr was more than willing to provide. He span on the ball of his foot one way, then the other, striking from different angles every time. Alidyr felt his blades rejoice as they cut Nasta’s ribs and then his thigh. The Father stumbled backwards and fell to one knee, using the tip of his sabre to support him. The Nightseye elixir allowed for every assassin to smell taste the blood that trickled from his wounds, their keen ears picking up the sound of the thick liquid pooling on the floor.
“You see, Nasta, I was always meant to lead them. The Arakesh follow the strong, and you are weak...” Alidyr slowly circled his prey, enjoying the superiority that befitted his race.
With Nasta’s head bowed low, the elf could feel the blade in his right hand urging him to decapitate the Father. It would be so easy. Let us be done with it then, he thought.
Nasta Nal-Aket was impossibly fast, spinning on the spot, using his bent knee, and coming to a stop beside Alidyr, moments before the elf’s blade impacted the floor. Reaver’s deadly edge whipped around with the Father and cut deep into the back of Alidyr’s leg, just above the knee. The elf cried out in pain, a physical experience he hadn’t felt in many years, and dropped to his knee. The wound blazed like a fire in his leg, as the magic ate away at his nerves. Nasta came up behind him now, landing a heavy blow to the elf’s back, using the end of his hilt. Alidyr sprawled across the floor, face down, barely aware of the pain in his back, while the wound in his leg burned hot as an iron.
Nasta had no words, but instead came down on the elf with Reaver. Alidyr had enough of his senses to roll aside, ensuring the curved blade buried into the floor and not his head. The Father came down again and again, each time narrowly missing Alidyr, who flipped around on his back to bring his powerful legs to bear in a spinning motion. Both feet collided with Nasta’s face and launched him into the air, bringing him to the floor in a tumble of limbs.
Through the inky darkness, Alidyr could see the pit perfectly beyond the Father’s fallen body. His leg screamed out in agony when he tried to walk normally, forcing him to limp over to Nasta. The human had survived the fight longer than Alidyr had expected, but the elf could feel the man’s end was near. As Nasta rose unsteadily to his feet, Alidyr’s elven ears heard the various bones crackle and pop throughout the old man’s body. His jaw appeared to be broken, or perhaps dislocated, while his chest heaved in the struggle to breathe through what was certainly a broken sternum. Blood had soaked through his robes around his ribs and leg, filling the air with the smell of iron.
It impressed Alidyr more when the father launched himself once more, ready to fight. Reaver cut the air either side of his head and limbs, never actually touching him, as he used his exceptional speed to dodge every attack. The elf went very quickly from being impressed to angered, when Nasta changed his tactics and thrust his head into Alidyr’s nose, shattering it for sure. Momentarily dazed, the elf could do nothing to stop Reaver from slashing his shoulder and drawing more precious blood. His blood coursed with elven magic that had been enhanced by the great Valanis and blessed by the gods. It filled Alidyr with rage at the thought of it being spilled by this old wretch.
Fighting through the new shooting pains in his shoulder, Alidyr thrust his hand out and hit Nasta with a wave of magic that fired the man through the air. Reaver was flung from his hand, where it skidded across the floor and disappeared into the pit. The drop was so far that even Alidyr’s incredible hearing didn’t hear it land. Nasta came to a stop on the very lip of the circular pit.
Infuriatingly, the Father began to laugh to himself as he rose unsteadily to his feet. “You think yourself so smart, Alidyr. I am the Father of Nightfall; I know everything that transpires inside these walls. You think I don’t know who you answer to, who you truly serve? You have used my Arakesh for your own purposes, breaking the very laws you helped to create.”
Alidyr’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the one?” The elf was putting it together now. “You told King Rengar’s spies that the Arakesh had taken out a contract on the elves.”
Nasta smiled wickedly. “I have always known your true goals, Alidyr. I will not allow you to use my order to bring about your master’s vision.”
Alidyr did his best to hide the true surprise at the revelation. “What do you know of that vision?”
“I know that it will be a world where both our kinds cannot exist.” Nasta swept his robe aside, assuming an aggressive stance.
“It will be a world for the strong.” Alidyr fought through the pain and opened his arms out to encompass the surrounding assassins. As one, the Arakesh erupted with a sharp cheer, endorsing Alidyr’s takeover.
The elf did his best to stride over towards Nasta without giving in to the pain in h
is leg. Alidyr easily batted away the Father’s attempts to punch and kick him, with his twin blades cutting the old man in several places, until he was reduced to his knees once more. Nasta looked up at him with sunken pits where his eyes had been burned away.
“You will never get the gem.” Nasta spat blood at the elf’s feet, his words surprising Alidyr even more. “Asher will beat you...”
Alidyr sneered before kicking the last human Father of Nightfall into the pit. Nasta Nal-Aket disappeared into the darkness that even the Nightseye elixir couldn’t penetrate.
The heightened senses of over a hundred Arakesh were on Alidyr now. The students appeared more confused than the assassins, giving the elf an idea.
“A new dawn rises on our order, a dawn that will bring about the first age in which the Arakesh rightfully rule.” Alidyr could see his words were hitting the right chords. “Are you not the greatest warriors Illian has ever seen?” Again they erupted with a single cheer. “Should the strong not rule over the weak? We will show the kingdoms of this land that the Arakesh are to be bowed before! The armies of not only Illian, but also those of Ayda will tremble at the sound of our name!” They cheered with every statement, lapping up his words. “My first act as Father is to unleash you upon our sworn enemies, the Graycoats of West Fellion. There will be little resistance from the other kingdoms when they see the heads of their precious knights adorning pikes at their front gates. Prepare yourselves, the first army of Nightfall leaves without delay.” Alidyr walked over to the confused students. “There will be no test of the pit. Instead you will be tested on the battlefield, gather your brothers and sisters. Today, we are all Arakesh!”
Together, the assassins and students ran from the pit to spread the word to all who had not been present. The Nightseye elixir would be fuelling their aggressive behaviour, filling them all with the need to fight and kill. This is what they were bred for, Alidyr thought. He nodded to Ro Dosarn who knew to take charge and keep any who doubted Alidyr’s vision in check. The elf flinched under the pain in his leg and shoulder, but kept his back straight and limped to the edge of the pit.
Rise of the Ranger (Echoes of Fate: Book 1) Page 34