Lenthean felt Erendar’s fingers spreading across his scalp. Through his long, black hair, he felt the ring-riddled hand clasp on again as it had done during their practice session.
Erendar’s eyes were shut.
He inhaled, then exhaled.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
“Lenthean,” Erendar spoke with closed eyes. “Grasp the nearest shadows you can find. The next step is the most critical. Of utmost importance—do not forget. Once you have found your shadow, use it as a springboard to locate your next shadow. This is how you will latch onto the world. Put yourself in their boots. Their fears—latch onto them. And spread to another, then another. Until all the world’s fears are accounted for. Then, I will make my move. You can do this, my son.”
Lenthean still trembled under Erendar’s grip.
The boy thought hard and long about that feeling. That feeling of fear, anguish, sorrow. He sought it out in his thoughts. But . . . he couldn’t locate it. He only trembled. Why? He continued to sweat and shake with no results. The boy breathed heavily now too.
“What’s the holdup? They will be here any moment, Lenthean,” Erendar said.
“I—I can’t,” Lenthean confessed.
“What do you mean you can’t?” Erendar’s voice elevated.
“I mean—I mean I physically can’t! There’s a block! I can’t find any shadows! I can’t locate them!”
“Now’s not the time to get caught up in your own mind, Shadow Elementalist. Dig deeper. Deeper!”
The boy tried, but to no avail.
Erendar freed his grip from the lad. He was obviously upset. “Have you led me and my people astray all this time? Were you duping me?” Erendar asked as he stepped backwards.
“No! No! I swear! I want world peace; I’m willing to do anything to stop the death! Honest, I don’t know what’s happening!”
“You useless—you—you think of me as a fool?” Erendar spat at the youth.
A third voice from a distant point said, “I certainly do.”
Lenthean lifted himself from the blood, and both he and Erendar turned to the voice.
“Valdorath?” Lenthean exclaimed.
Valdorath stood several stories up on the rooftop of a tower aligned directly behind Erendar and Lenthean. It was a church tower.
Erendar began to mock Valdorath. “Ah, the old man. The Elementalist of Light. What a surprise, blocking the Shadow Elementalist from saving the world from violence. The irony is killing me, can you tell?”
Is that why I was blocked? Lenthean asked himself. WasValdorath’s light presence blocking my abilities?
Valdorath said nothing. He stood stoically on the rooftop with no expression. He too was in his Elementalist armor.
“What is he doing?” Lenthean asked Erendar.
“We’ll have to find a way around him,” Erendar answered. “I promise you that much. That is . . . If you still want to save the world . . .” He finished with a raised eyebrow at the boy.
It was clear Valdorath was fetching something on the opposing side of the narrow rooftop. He tugged . . .
He tugged . . .
A prisoner?
Was that . . . No . . . It couldn’t be . . . Zuthar?
The boy’s heart raced faster than ever. His stomach sank. Out of sheer instinct the boy extended an arm as his mouth fell open. “Wha—What?” he asked. Zuthar was bound and was dangling on the edge of the rooftop by Valdorath’s grip.
“Lenthean!” Valdorath called out from the roof. “You have clearly lost your reasoning abilities if you have aligned yourself with Erendar and his devious brothers. You are to stop this joint plan of Erendar’s world domination. Or be prepared to have your uncle meet his end.”
“What the hell are you doing?!” Lenthean cried. “Return Zuthar safely to the ground!”
“Hmph,” Erendar said as he stood beside Lenthean. “How quaint.”
“I cannot return him to the ground safely, until I know you have come to your senses,” Valdorath told Lenthean. “Then, I will allow you to treat me as you please for resorting to this method. Desperate times call for desperate measures—you surely understand that, don’t you, Shadowling?”
Lenthean looked at Erendar. Lenthean wanted to start weeping, but he did not.
Erendar looked back at the lad. “This, Lenthean, is why we must act quickly and unveil this world proposition soon. If we had acted more quickly, your uncle’s life wouldn’t be mettled with in the name of your allegiance. How sad. Just . . . tragic.”
Lenthean called out, “Valdorath! This is not a joke! Release my uncle!”
“I can’t do that, Shadowling. Not until you come to your senses.”
“You can’t be serious! Free him! Please!”
“I won’t,” Valdorath firmly declined.
Lenthean bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Erendar. I can’t allow my uncle to die like this. I just can’t.”
Erendar stood, glaring menacingly at Lenthean.
Expressionless.
Lenthean continued, “I—I can’t let him die.”
“Lenthean, is it really worth it? Your uncle’s one measly life? The peasant of Fredrickstown? Prioritizing it over the millions of lives in this world? All bound to be lost in the name of war? Are you willing to let the world fall to your selfish desires?”
Explosions boomed in the distance.
Lenthean wanted to choke out a sob.
Erendar pursued, “Is it worth compromising your ideals of world peace? Just to save one measly life in the midst of all of this chaos?”
“I want to save the world. But . . . I can’t let him die. I just can’t do it. I am sorry,” the boy apologized.
The Soul Elementalist cleared the air by cracking his neck from left to right. “Very well,” he said. “Your weakness will be your untimely demise.”
“Huh?” the boy asked.
Doors from a building behind Lenthean crashed open. Der’ Tanel soldiers in their royal gold and red lugged out a bound woman. It was none other than Lenthean’s mother. Lenthean paced backward, weeping freely.
Erendar walked to the boy’s mother and grabbed a handful of her hair. “I too was afraid to resort to this, boy. But I cannot sacrifice the world to your selfish desires. So, I give you a choice. Your mother, or your uncle. Valdorath, or me. You decide.” He twisted his neck and smiled wickedly.
“WHAT IS THIS?!” Lenthean shouted at them. “You BOTH? Both of you?!”
Lenthean considered his decisions. His uncle, bound to be dropped to his death, betrayed by Valdorath. His mother, bound to be murdered, betrayed by Erendar.
“It’s okay, my boy!” Zuthar called out from the rooftop. He squirmed as he attempted to maintain his breathing passage. He was hoisted stories high above the perilous ground. “Pick your mother! I will be fine!” Valdorath quickly wrapped cloth around Zuthar’s mouth to shut him up.
Ayla cried out, “Lenthean, NO! Don’t pick me; pick your uncle! Don’t fall for Erendar; he fooled me—he fooled all of us! Pick Zuthar; he will take MUCH better care of you than I ever did!”
It was time to decide.
Lenthean looked back and forth at the four of them repeatedly. On his right, Erendar. On his left, Valdorath. On his right, Ayla—Mom. On his left, Zuthar—his uncle.
The boy fell to his knees and cried out to the universe in distress. The boy was powerless in the situation. His Shadow Elementalist abilities were inferior to this oppressive situation.
Erendar quickly drew a dagger from his ankle sheath and pressed the blade firmly to Ayla’s neck. She screamed aloud from the pain.
“CHOOSE, SHADOW ELEMENTALIST! CHOOSE!” Erendar demanded. His eyes looked no different from Aderan’s during the battle for Darthia. It was a side of Erendar Lenthean had never seen. “YOUR MOTHER WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN IN THIS SITUATION IF WE HAD SAVED THE WORLD! WOULD SHE?”
Valdorath juggled Zuthar loosely on the edge of the rooftop. “Don’t try m
e, Shadowling!” Valdorath called out.
The boy shut his eyes.
He exhaled.
“Choose your mother, my boy!” his uncle’s muffled voice called.
“Choose Zuthar! Let me go, son! It’s my time!” Ayla called.
The boy let out a breath.
“CHOOSE!” Erendar screeched.
“I will drop him, Shadowling! Don’t underestimate me!” Valdorath challenged.
The boy let out a breath. “Okay. I’ve made my decision.”
Erendar grinned.
Valdorath was stone cold.
Lenthean’s feet shifted left, then . . . eventually right. “Momma, I—I choose you. I’m—I’m so sorry.”
Zuthar yelped from behind Lenthean’s view. Shortly thereafter, Lenhean heard a loud CRACK.
The world was slow. Lenthean was numb. Tingles went up his spine. All gasped. The boy turned slowly. A low rumble of his mother’s scream echoed in his heart. The boy dreaded what he was about to witness on the pavement behind him. He looked to the rooftop; Zuthar was gone. But Valdorath was there—an emotionless expression. Careless.
And at the bottom was a broken Zuthar.
“NO!” the boy screamed at the top of his lungs.
He looked at Valdorath—at his despicable hand that had once held up Zuthar.
Lenthean had never felt such hatred. Such anger. Such intense anger. He could feel his body metamorphing into a behemoth of rage and hatred. Black clouds of shadowy anger. His voice morphed into a demonic possession. The boy’s presence slipped away, and Arrogan emerged in Lenthean’s absence.
“Ooooo . . . hehehahaha . . .” Arrogan laughed through Lenthean’s mortal form. “You really are a fool, aren’t you? Light Elementalist. . .” The black smog grew a wide, wicked, white smile. “It’s time to eat . . . hehehehahaha . . .,” it laughed.
Light blasted from Valdorath’s palm as bright as the sun, reigning judgment down on Lenthean and Arrogan. Unphased, Arrogan and Lenthean struck at Valdorath with the most intense ire and intent to kill the world had ever seen. In a cataclysmic clash of light and dark, nearby surroundings crushed under the immense pressure of their mighty eruption of conflict. Shards of wood and debris ripped from buildings as far as the eye could see, pummeling the beings below with rubble. Two opposites poised to end one another. But who would be victorious? The light? Or the dark?
36: All Is Not What it Seems
Lenthean moaned. His ears were ringing. Everything was so bright. He couldn’t see anything. He blinked. His vision was blurry. All the boy could make out in front of him was black on his left and white on his right. He held his tattooed forearm up to his face, shielding his eyes from the whiteness of his surroundings.
“Where am I?” the boy asked. His voice echoed far and wide. He still could not see. He rose to his feet with the use of his hands. The floor was white and cloudy, but the surface felt like glossy, smooth glass. He blinked and flushed his eyes with fluids in attempt to regain his vision. He turned his head around and around.
“What in the world?” the boy asked out loud. His body swayed from left to right in his Elementalist armor. To the boy’s left was a black pit. The floor transitioned from white clouds to black smog under the glossy floor. It then curved exponentially downward into a black abyss with not a sight anywhere to be seen. To the right was a white wall. The glossy floor was all the same, with white ethereal clouds rolling up infinitely into the heavens. It went farther than Lenthean’s eyes could see, as did forward and backward in this world of contrast. The boy trudged ahead. His footsteps echoed loudly, as if the noise was amplified in his setting.
“Where in the world am I? Arrogan, are you there?”
There was nothing but the sound of the boy’s breath.
“Arrogan, are you there?”
Nothing.
“Arrogan?!”
“He’s not there, you know.” Lethean heard a voice. He turned to see a man. He was roughly the boy’s height and perhaps in his forties. His hair was very dark, his skin very pale. He too was adorned with fantastic, dark armor.
“Who are you? What’s going on?” Lenthean asked the man.
The man stuck his hands out. “It’s me.” He smiled.
Lenthean raised an eyebrow at him.
“Surely you recognize me.”
Lenthean shook his head. He sifted through his mind, trying to figure out who this could be.
“It’s me, Lenthean. It is your ol’ man.”
Lenthean did not know what to say. The man lifted his right arm. And there was the marking. The all-seeing eye. The mark of the Shadow Elementalist tattooed into his flesh.
“Dad?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes, my son. It’s me, Quynn. Your pappa.”
Lenthean laughed lightly. “Dad?” He felt an overwhelming assuredness that this was his father. He walked toward him, and the two held each other in a hug. The hug was firm, and he slapped Lenthean on the back.
“It’s all right, my son,” he said with a hand in Lenthean’s black hair. The boy shook and quivered at the experience. “I have waited a long, long time for you to arrive,” Quynn admitted. His father sighed and admired the boy. He let his thumb slip down the boy’s cheek and said, “The mark of the inherited. I always wondered if you’d receive it as Valdorath had.”
“I just can’t believe you’re alive after all these years,” Lenthean said, still tight in his father’s embrace.
“Well, I am not actually ‘alive’ by your definition.”
Lenthean pulled back. “What do you mean? Where in the world are we?”
“This is the Nethervoid, don’t you see?” He stuck both arms outstretched. “After all of these years, our plan worked after all.”
“What plan?”
“Was it not Valdorath who saved you in your time of need? And led you to the Nethervoid to find the truth of all things?”
Lenthean shook his head. “Valdorath is not who you think he is, Father.”
“Oh, really? And what makes you say that?”
“He just killed uncle. Zuthar is dead, Dad. Valdorath dropped him from the roof.”
Quynn smiled and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Lenthean, take a walk with me. I’ve waited a long time for this.” The two began to pace down the infinite corridor of shadow and light.
“Lenthean, the Nethervoid is a fantastic place. A place between the light and the dark. A place of truth and ultimate freedom from the world. It is from here that anything is possible.”
“How?” the boy questioned.
“There is a border between all things light and shadow. And you and I are standing between that barrier. There’s only one way in and one way out. Not even the mighty gods have domain here. That is why Arrogan is not with us in our presence.”
“So, what gives?” Lenthean pressed. “What’s the point of this place?”
“Many things, actually. Here, time does not exist. Time is a mere counter in reality. But here . . . Here you can have all of the time in the world to be away from everything. And nothing will come of it. And most importantly, all truth is stored here. All of it. No lies, no deception, nothing but truth. If you seek truth, my son, you will certainly find it here.”
“So, wait—how did you even get here? I mean, I was told you were killed when I was a child.”
“I was killed. But I opted to come here. To finally free myself from Arrogan, the Terror. I will not subject myself to that eternal torture. You could say . . . I am in hiding . . . and this is my sanctuary.”
“So . . . You’re saying that this place is like . . . free from everything? And it’s not a place anyone can access, right?”
“Yes, Lenthean. That is correct. My son, have you wondered how you got here in the first place?”
“Well, yes—last I remember . . . I remember—”
“You remember killing him, don’t you?” Quynn suggested to his son.
Lenthean faced his father. “Did I kill him?”
&n
bsp; “Yes. You killed Valdorath. He is dead.”
The boy exhaled through his nose. “I was so enraged. How could one not lose it? He killed my uncle. As terrible as that might be, I didn’t mean to kill him! I—I was just so . . . so angry!”
“I know. But this is how it had to be.”
“Wh—” Lenthean started but was cut off by his father.
Elementalist: The New Inheritance Page 24