by Bill Mays
- Chapter 33 -
Pieces Shifting Into Place
The face of Pangias was changing. Not in over a thousand years had so much war scarred the continent’s surface. Meiron, the Dark Lord, and his gauntlet council had begun a massive assault, spanning much of the continent. While Drackmoore launched its armies upon Kandair, the Order of Four and their orc allies wreaked havoc across Villinsk’s soil. The Dark Lord’s gauntlet council mobilized other attacks as well. The ogres of the Sea Span Mountains moved against several other countries bordering the expansive range. Members of Meiron’s secret council guided them. He had agents planning major events in the desert lands, the island nation of Xifanos, and more subtle machinations in the merchant kingdom of Merintz. He would leave no one strong enough to oppose his will.
Word had reached the ancient wizard’s ears of an amber stone discovered in the tiny, remote western country of Larl. His spies were constantly seeking out any knowledge of the legendary gems. His gauntlet members had been very useful. They would bring him this treasure. He had lost the gladiator’s trail for the moment, but it was only a matter of time before he possessed two stones. Then, with that much power, the others would be easy to locate and claim. He spent centuries in his search for ultimate power. Wherever they were hidden, he would find them. Meiron was not a patient man; but for this, he would endure.
* * * * * * * * * *
Queen Kathraine strived wholeheartedly with Duke Markston, Captain Lusariss, Callivar, and, of course, Vergehen the Wise, to fortify their claim over Talipax’s surrounding regions and to regain a foothold in the country her late husband had worked so hard to build. Manifor Stormblade and Dimitri Sands were there as well, proud to offer their services in any way they could. The warrior and the apprentice felt nearly useless in this growing game of war. Jeraud, the Waynan nomad, stayed present as well. Having met and befriended the Messengers of Vergehen, Flade in particular, he knew that there was more to this war than just one country’s struggle to best another. Times were changing. He, too, wished to aid Kandair and bring the Drackmoorians to a halt before his homelands fell in their path of destruction.
Something terrible was brewing over the northern mountains, in the dark lands. The Drackmoorians had grown strangely quiet. Their attacks had become weak and unorganized. More goblin kin showed with less Drackmoorian control. It felt as if the Dark Lord were lulling them into a false sense of security. The Kandairians knew something bad was coming, but all they could do was brace themselves and hope for the best. The old advisor to the crown and royal wizard, sat and studied his tomes for spells that might bolster his country’s defenses. He searched for magic powerful enough to resist the Dark Lord’s strength. Even with Callivar’s added might, his magic was no match for the Dark Lord and the Stone of Power. Vergehen’s mind often wandered to the topic of his former messengers. He knew they would play a major role in what was to come. For everyone’s sake, he wished them luck.
* * * * * * * * * *
Dalia was the first to come to her senses. There had been a massive burst of power infused with the necklace’s own magic. Something had increased its strength a hundred fold. She lay face down, in a snowdrift. Her fingers were numb, as was her nose. The necklace that Vergehen had given her was now nothing more than a dark metal powder on the snow. The item had depleted all of its power, and in turn disintegrated. She crawled to her feet and surveyed her surroundings. Everywhere the lady looked was a thick blanket of the cold white powder. Flade, Jillian, and Petre lay strewn about her. They were in the peaks of a mountain range. A cold wind whipped around them, howling through the scattered trees, and tangling her platinum locks into her face.
She moved quickly to check on her companions. They were all breathing and awoke easily with a gentle nudge. It became all too evident that they were missing a member of their group. Arianna was nowhere to be found. Dalia tried desperately to reach out to her friend with her mind, but the woman was too far away, shielded somehow, or worse. She shook the last thought from her mind. The effort alone caused the lady’s head to throb.
“I cannot locate her,” Dalia whispered sadly.
“There aren’t any tracks to indicate that she was ever present,” Flade added.
“What do you think happened to her?” Jillian asked, though a few ideas already danced about in her head. None of them was good.
“Maybe she was sent somewhere else?” Petre suggested. “You said that you weren’t sure how much power the necklace had left, and we did end up in another strange location.”
“True, this is not the destination I envisioned,” Dalia mumbled. She hoped the boy was right. The thought of having left her friend behind in that temple of horrors was just too terrible to accept.
“Arianna will be alright,” Jillian smiled weakly. The girl knew little of the world and relied on stories she learned as a child. “She’s a priestess. Their gods watch out for them, right?” No one responded. All they could do was hope.
Flade located a shallow cavern, and constructed a small fire to warm them. His new boots recovered from the temple treasures helped carry him over the snow without slowing his pace.
“Where do you think we are?” Petre asked in an attempt to break the somber mood. His breath formed in a visible white fog as he spoke.
“Lost again, I’d say,” Jillian mumbled as she ran her fingers through her long brown ponytail to remove the tangles. Her hands trembled from the cold.
Dalia remained silent. Her mask of stone had returned. She could not shake the memory of that horrible temple or the thought that Arianna might have been left behind.
“I’ll study the map tonight and perhaps in the morning when the sun is bright we can move around and get our bearings,” Flade spoke softly. He also thought of Arianna and hoped for the best. “For now, we should all get some rest. We may have some serious hiking ahead of us come morning.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Arianna awoke to find herself in the same spot where she had been when the flames spewed forth from the green stone to engulf Karzack. She sat upright on the dusty floor with a gasp. The quick motion caused a small cloud of dust to rise into the stale air. Her wounds had miraculously sealed themselves. They were not gone, but neither did she bleed freely. Her whole body ached. She was surprised to be alive at all. There was no way she could have survived those wounds on her own.
“Thank you Rashas for all your blessings,” she whispered quickly and then scanned the room.
Karzack’s skull still sat on the floor, facing her, with its dark, empty eye-sockets. His simple steel crown rested, charred, on the bare bone. It was eerily silent in the tomb chamber. Her own spell had long faded leaving the pulsing green light as her only illumination. The brightness of the gem had diminished somewhat, but its energy still washed through her hand and up her arm. She had passed out holding the magical stone. She stood and nearly swooned from the effort. Suddenly, it all came back to her. Dalia and the others were gone. They had used the necklace and she had been left behind. She was all alone now. Where had they gone? Where would she go? What evils still lurked in the dark halls of the cursed temple? The priestess slumped back to her knees. She suddenly felt very, very tired. Tears trickled down her cheeks and her head hung low. She debated whether or not she had the strength to go on.
“Why?” She asked softly. “Why me?”
There came no answer of course. She had not really expected one.
* * * * * * * * * *
The foamy water tickled his toes and Ado awoke with a shriek to spring from the sand and into the air. Memories of the dark waters crashing over him were all too clear. He remembered the air being sucked from his lungs as water spilled in. The gremlin’s ear-splitting cry woke everyone from their deep sleep. The small beach was littered with bodies. Tark stood and brushed the sand from his darkly tanned cheek. His hand darted to the cord hanging about his neck. The blue artifact still hung over his heart, pulsing with its inner light. He released a heavy
sigh of relief.
“Ado? Nivit?” He called out quickly. Nivit was soon hovering at his side and Ado came to land on his shoulder.
“It’s a miracle!” The gremlin giggled.
“How did we survive, Mr. Tark?” Nivit was at a total loss. “Last I remember, I was blown into the water, and I can’t swim very well. Maybe I should have turned into a fish?”
“The fates have seen fit to watch over us! We have all been given a second chance!” Xina shouted to the sky nearby. The redhaired mage was engaged in some sort of ritual of gratitude in the sand.
“Couldn’t chance try not to leave us lying face down in the wet sand?” Kreasha groaned as she attempted to shake the tiny grains from her hair and her beaded shoes. The lady then began smoothing out her silken dress. The expensive garment was all but ruined.
“Stop your whining, princess! Who cares how we lived; we’re alive. Everyone sound off!” Kottia yelled out for all to hear.
The captain was in a foul mood. Though her life and much of her crew had been spared, her ship had not. The Siren had gone to a watery grave. Many survived. Sarry, Panni, Xina, and Sslath were among them. At least ten of her crewmen had been lost, though.
“Where do ye think we are, captain?” Sarry called out. The dwarf had a few bruises but looked healthy enough.
“Thisss must be Gurdail,” Sslath answered for her. “It wasss the only land anywhere near usss.”
“We’ll figure out where we are soon enough,” Kottia grumbled. “First, we find shelter and clear the area before that crazed wizard comes looking for us again.” She shot a glare in Tark’s direction. He did not miss it. “Get to walking people!” The captain began a trek towards a distant outcropping of rocks. Her crew quickly fell in behind her.
Tark stood for a moment, staring out at the sea. He was lost in deep thought. The big man almost wanted to crawl back below the comforting waves. He glimpsed a figure rise to the surface. It appeared to be a man, though his ears were oddly shaped. He waved to the warrior with one webbed hand, and then dove into the water again. A fanned fishtail slapped the waves behind him.
“Ohhh!” Nivit gasped. “What was that?”
“That was one of the tieress,” Ado whispered in shock.
“You mean a merman, really? That is so amazing! I always wanted to meet a merman, or a mermaid. Do you think he is the one that saved us, Mr. Tark?” The fairy asked.
Tark simply nodded. He knew they had saved them. Somehow, the gem called out to the underwater race for aid.
“Hurry up! Are you three coming or not?” Kreasha called back to Tark and his little companions. “It doesn’t look like they’re going to wait for us -- pirates!” The lady spat in annoyance.
“She’s right,” Ado added. “It probably is safer to stay with the group. At least that way if anything does attack, it’ll have other options besides us.”
Tark turned after one more look at the sea’s shifting waves. Once again, he marched on aimlessly, with no idea where his feet would carry him. Would he ever find an end to his quest? It seemed he was doomed to wander from place to place, country to country, with trouble constantly on his heels. He grew weary just thinking about it. The gladiator looked to the line of pirates walking in the distance. He took note of the Lady Kreasha strolling along on her own. How many more lives would his wanderings effect? He placed a hand beneath his jerkin to hold the pulsing gem. He was still a slave, though he had gained his freedom. It hardly seemed fair. He glanced from his left shoulder to his right. Nivit rested happily on one side, while Ado sat grumbling on the other. The big man could not help but to smile. Things could be worse, he realized. At least he had good friends to share his journey with. He walked through the sands in silence with the voices of his tiny friends ringing in both ears. He was alive. The day was a good one.
The End