Valdorath impatiently barked, “If you crave so desperately to be equal to me, then stand up and fight. Then we shall truly see how equal we are.”
Aderan chuckled while clenching on to his bleeding shoulder stump and rising to his feet. His white-gloved hand had streaks of deep-red blood running through the cracks of his fingers. “I am not a fool, Valdorath. You struck me down when I did not see it coming, and now I am no match.” Aderan grinned widely, blood seeping through his teeth now. “I have but one choice now.”
ZZAAAAPPPP!
Faster than any single person could react or comprehend, Aderan’s only arm was extended out and electrifying hundreds—if not thousands—of Darthian troops. Aderan laughed in a fit of hysteria, and as a result, Valdorath’s face contorted with rage.
“WHAT’S WRONG?!” Aderan shouted over the sound of blasting thunder. “Do these people MEAN SOMETHING to you?! Even knowing they HAVE NO SOULS AT ALL?! NO HEART FOR A BETTER WORLD?! How can you care for beings SO SELF INTERESTED? PERHAPS YOU ARE NO DIFFERENT!”
Valdorath now spat back words at Aderan as he finished electrocuting his unfortunate victims. “You sought to kill an uncooperative young boy. He knew no better than to fight for what he believed. You seek to annihilate the free peoples of the world. And now, here you stand, disregarding life in such horrendous fashion. Well, I stand by the light, and it will not be merciful when looking down on you. BE GONE, SCOURGE OF ZANVIA!” Valdorath extended an open palm to strike with a blade of light from the sky—but, what’s this?
Aderan fell to his knees before Valdorath could deliver his strike. His head rolled from his shoulders into the mud. And the lifeless body of the Lightning Elementalist fell shortly thereafter. Behind the decapitated corpse stood Prince Gael, wielding a bloody katana and panting heavily under his charred armor.
The young bloodied prince spoke, “Let this be a message to the armies of Der’ Tanel and to the Brotherhood.”
“We do not tolerate the acts of the Brotherhood.
“We do not tolerate the acts of Der’ Tanel.
“We of Darthia will never break.
“We, the free peoples of Zanvia, will never succumb to your influence by force or coercion.
“If you try to fight, prepare yourselves to meet the same fate as Aderan just did.”
22: Victory . . . Or Was It?
It had been days since Lenthean heard the victory bells ring inside the city. Darthia had successfully stopped the Der’ Tanellain invasion. With one of its rulers—Aderan—defeated in battle, the invading troops quickly retreated to their home nation.
It had also been days since Lenthean could get out of his bed. He was in a private room being tended to by various doctors in Darthia. While the boy had been conscious the entire time, he struggled to move his limbs, and his spine tingled like needles were pricking it at all hours of the day. His skin was burned as well, for Aderan’s electric shocks were intense and powerful.
The boy sat idle while he could hear the people celebrating in the streets. And much to his surprise, he could hear them chanting his name outside every day. It made him smile a bit when he heard it, as it was such a contrast from what the people of Darthia used to treat him like. This morning was no different from any other day; he awoke to the sound of applause and cheering. The doctor stepped into the room with barrels full of poppies and roses with a slew of delicious fresh-baked breads and pastries.
The doctor set down this morning’s barrel of goodies. “How are you feeling?” the doctor asked.
Lenthean turned to the doctor and reported, “I’m good, I suppose. I still can’t move my limbs very well.”
“They’re proud of you, you know?” The doctor said. “None of them believed you had their safety in your best interest, and neither did I. So I, too, want to say thank you for what you’ve done.” The doctor knelt before Lenthean.
Lenthean nodded his head at the man, as that was all he could move. “I’m just so confused,” Lenthean stated.
“Why?” The doctor asked.
“Well, it’s not like I stopped Aderan from killing so many men. He still did. He still harmed so many people. I couldn’t do anything besides distract him and take the hits. I couldn’t do what I wanted to do.”
“What is it exactly you wanted to do?” the doctor asked.
“To talk peace with them. I just thought . . . I just thought I could save lives on both sides. But so many died. I saw so many—so many . . .” Lenthean grimaced at the thoughts rushing through his own head. “So many bodies . . .”
The doctor placed a hand on Lenthean’s shoulder. “It was your willingness to put yourself on the line for us. Just imagine how many more lives he would have taken had you not stepped in. They will never forget what you did. And neither will I.” The doctor smiled and rose to his feet, speaking professionally to Lenthean, “I have done my best with you, Lenthean. I have scoured the city for every potion and tonic it has to offer. Nothing has brought back your full mobility. All I can suggest now is rest, but I don’t think you will ever fully recover from this.”
Lenthean’s heart sank into a pit in his stomach. “Wait, I won’t recover from this?” the boy asked fearfully.
“Unfortunately, from my medical expertise, I doubt a wound like this will ever recover. It would be a strange stroke of luck to regain your mobility.”
Lenthean looked down to his body in the bed. He lifted his hands to eye them; it was difficult to even elevate to analyze them. He then asked, “Can Valdorath do anything?”
The doctor asked, “Valdorath is the Elementalist of Light, correct? The Old Inheritance?”
Lenthean answered, “Yes, that is him.”
“From my little understanding of theist lore, he cannot regenerate your mobility. I prefer to stand by science. I find it hard to believe Elementalists wield this kind of power. But, I was proven wrong as of late. Your wounds, along with those of all of the men I have been tending to, are a testament to how powerful you individuals can become. I am in awe being in your presence, Shadow Elementalist. And frightened, all the same.”
Lenthean nodded at him from his bedside and felt his emotions sink to a dull hopelessness.
The doctor chimed in, “There is one . . . option, however.”
Lenthean quickly perked his head up at the doctor. The doctor said, “The Waldalfen . . . just Northeast of Darthia . . .”
“Yes?” Lenthean pressed eagerly.
“They are not men; they are their own kind. The Waldalfen of the Wood. They practice a form of medicine that is unrecognized by any nation outside of their forest domain. They have a naturalistic approach. Again, I prefer my science. But I have heard of some strokes of luck after taking a visit to them. People say they’ve healed blindness, deafness, paralysis. Perhaps you can visit them. Aside from that, I have nothing else to offer to you, New Inheritance. And I must remind you once more, I am grateful for your sacrifice.” The doctor took a bow and scurried from the room.
Is that where I must go? Lenthean thought to himself. Is this the next step of my journey? As the boy became entangled in his thoughts, he drifted off into a choppy sleep in midday under the dull roar of the cheering peoples outside still chanting his name.
Many hours later, he woke under nightfall in his room of care with a candle lit. The flickering of the light gave the boy just enough information about the room to know a figure sat in a chair in the corner. “Who’s there?!” the boy called out.
“It’s me, Shadowling,” Valdorath answered, removing his hood. “How are you?” the old man asked.
“Good, but I fail to move my limbs at full mobility,” Lenthean answered honestly.
Valdorath shook his head in disgust then said, “I should’ve come back earlier. I knew that fiend would take advantage of your naiveness. I should have struck him down before he could have gotten to you. Your father would be livid with me right now.”
“It’s okay, Valdorath,” Lenthean assured. “Is Prince Gael okay?”
>
“Psh,” Valdorath sounded off with discontent. “Here you lie nearly paralyzed and lucky to live, and all you’re concerned about is some prince that helped create the Brotherhood in the first place?”
Lenthean sat and said nothing.
“I do not know if Gael is okay,” Valdorath told the lad. “But, you should know, these people are grateful for your sacrifice out there. So as it happens, this ‘quest’ you sought to fulfill worked out in your favor. Very fortunate if you ask me,” Valdorath concluded.
Lenthean said, “They are grateful for you, too, Valdorath. In the midst of their cheers I can hear them sing your name too.”
Valdorath looked at the boy and listened.
Lenthean continued, “We have cleared our names as Elementalists at least. But my quest is not done yet.”
Valdorath placed a frustrated hand to his own forehead and sighed. “Boy, you cannot even move your limbs. You barely escaped with your life, and you seek to challenge the world once again? Your quest is complete; you cleared the name of me, you, and your father. You owe nothing else to the world. You did the impossible, Shadowling. Please stop this madness now.”
“I can’t,” the boy said back. “The doctor said I couldn’t recover with the medicines they have to offer here. And my cure could lie inside of the Waldalfen’s domain northeast of here.”
Valdorath burst into laughter. “The doctor told you this?” He laughed once more. “Go into the Everforest for your cure?! HAHA! The Waldalfen are not keen on taking in strangers of the outside world. Not to mention, it’s a labyrinth of trees that many people never find their way out of. Even the ‘mighty’ and ‘oh-so-powerful’ Der’ Tanel folk do not seek to conquer the Everforest. Even they know it’s better left untouched. And besides, I’m done dealing with pointy-eared bastards. As far as I can tell, they are no different from the Der’ Tanel, only their skin is green like the leaf.”
“Well—what do I have to lose?” Lenthean asked Valdorath. “I can barely even move. What quality of life is that? I cannot return home to my mother or uncle for fear they will be captured. And sitting dormant will most surely get me captured as well.”
“Ugh,” Valdorath said, rubbing his forehead in annoyance. “You could always try laying low in Darthia. The people here seem to approve of you now; you could actually start a good life here.”
“I could . . . But that doesn’t allow me to do what I’ve sought to do my whole life.”
“Lenthean.” Valdorath was firm and irritated. “Dreams are dreams; you cannot spend your life hunting down this fantasy that you can change the world. It will get you in the end. This madness, it stops now.”
“Valdorath, what have I to lose? I’ve come this far. Stopping now means all was for naught. I have to do this. I’m traveling to the Everwood.”
The old man grumbled at Lenthean. He eyed the room, looking for a swig of alcohol. He found none, so he took out his pipe and began smoking it. “Well then, Shadowling. I do owe it to your father for not forcing you to stay out of the Darthian battle against Aderan. I have dishonored your father’s task of keeping you safe. I at least owe it to you to get you to the Everforest safely. From there, I simply cannot continue with you. Just know now that this mission is suicide. And I’m telling you this now so that I will not carry this guilt any longer.”
“I know you’re fearful, Valdorath,” Lenthean spoke to him. “But what choice do I have?”
After a long pause while Valdorath pondered under candlelight, he spoke to the boy: “Have your things ready in thirty minutes. We leave Darthia under nightfall. We make way for the Everforest.”
23: On the Road to Recovery
Under the night sky Lenthean waited on horseback. Valdorath was tightening straps on the saddle and adorning Lucy with bags and such paraphernalia. “It has been quite some time, hasn’t it, Lucy?” Lenthean whispered while petting Lucy’s mane. Valdorath grunted as he lifted heavy bag after heavy bag and strapped them to the horse.
“Thanks for helping me lift all of these bags,” Valdorath spat out sarcastically at the lad. “Are you ready?” he asked Lenthean.
“Yes.” the boy said back to him. Quietly, Valdorath, Lenthean, and Lucy trotted out of the city and into the open fields. They took a right turn out of the city. Lenthean remembered his venture from Fredrickstown with Valdorath; they had come from the left. He was headed farther from home now. Many corpses from the battle of Darthia still littered the ground, and many women were out cleaning up the bodies of the fallen. Night and day they worked, as there were many soldiers that had passed in the battle.
Lenthean bowed to each and every person that he made eye contact with out of respect for their hard work and care for the deceased. Often times, the boy was met with a bow back, a nod at the very least. He looked over his shoulder as their figures began to lose detail, shrinking in the distance. Their candle lights became twinkles until they were eventually consumed by the blackness of night.
The rolling green fields of tall grass met tree after tree, getting thicker the farther they pushed forward. The forest was mainly pine, with the occasional redwood tree sparsely placed here and there. The night ecosystem was alive and chirping. Toads croaking. Owls cooing. Millions of crickets singing. The forest was so alive, even at this time of night.
The trio traveled for quite some time, and as the forest got thicker and thicker, Lucy came to a complete stop. “What is it, Lucy?” Valdorath asked. He dismounted the mare and looked into her eyes. Valdorath concluded, “She is tired. We are done for the night. Let’s set up camp here.”
---
By campfire light, Valdorath popped the cork off a large bottle he had slipped into his robes. “Care for a drink?” Valdorath asked Lenthean.
“Of water?” Lenthean asked.
Valdorath chuckled. “No, of liquor.” Lenthean reeled back. “I am good; thank you, though.”
Valdorath shrugged his shoulders and took four long gulps of his hard liquor. Lenthean could nearly smell the thickness of the alcohol from his where he sat. Valdorath let out a breath of relief. He laid his white head of hair back against the mossy log as he lowered himself into a pile of leaves and debris.
Lenthean quietly sat, admiring the glowing embers of the fire. It crackled and popped, a sound he had become familiar with in his new life on the road. He wasn’t sure how long Valdorath would maintain his silence . . . or if he was falling asleep. That’s when Valdorath broke the silence without looking to the boy, “You’ve got a lot of heart in ya, kid.” Lenthean looked up to him. Valdorath, with bottle in hand, pointed to the youth.
Valdorath took another swig. “Your father would be very proud of what you have become.”
Lenthean had seldom heard Valdorath talk to him like this before. This was new to him. Valdorath grumbled softly and used his forearm to wipe the leftover ale from his white mustache. Lenthean thought under the sound of grasshoppers chirping and the embers crackling.
Valdorath continued, “Your father and I had always been friends. We grew up in Denduthal. The City of the Great Staircase. I grew up as the son of the Elementalist. As you can see.” Valdorath pointed to the pure white line slashing through his eyebrow and down to his cheekbone. “I was famous in all things that I did. In school, town gatherings, everything. I was practically worshipped, you see.” Valdorath took another sip of his alcohol as Lenthean listened to the old man.
“Quynn, your father, was my only true friend. He never once cared about my title, my status. He wanted to be friends with me for me. He never saw me as the Elementalist of Light. At the time, you were not born, so I was labeled the New Inheritance. But you have taken that title, and I am now the Old Inheritance.”
Lenthean asked, “Who was the Old Inheritance at your time?”
“Hell if I know.” Valdorath took another swig. “The Old Inheritance at the time was probably in hiding. Smart person. It’s easier that way.” Valdorath took yet another swig of alcohol. Then he continued, “Your father
, Quynn . . . he and I would get into so much trouble. It was a blast what we did when we were kids. My parents were so uptight, they were religious figures in Denduthal—my mother was the Elementalist of Light.”
Lenthean looked to his feet resting in the dried leaves and asked, “So if I inherited my father’s Shadow Elementalist abilities . . . when did my dad find the Orb of Shadows?”
Valdorath spoke back, “I have learned in life that opposites tend to attract. As your father and I were exploring some caves together, we found that we got so deep that not one speck of light was visible from the outside world. We were ankle-deep in some muddy water in a cave, and honestly, we were just some kids looking for an adventure. I lit up the space with my hand, and there it was embedded in charcoal black stone—the Orb of Shadows. I will always remember that coldness. The feeling of absolute blackness when we met it. The cave was all too quiet when we met it face to face—the orb. Its eye pierced right through us. Quynn was just nineteen years old. He didn’t know any better. Even though I warned him not to take it.”
Elementalist: The New Inheritance Page 15