by Tom Burton
Mutaro stands on a large stone podium at the end of the courtyard. Urag climbs a small set of stairs and joins Mutaro. Mutaro looks over the prisoners. Urag then kneels on one knee in front of Mutaro and throws the chain he is carrying onto the stone floor of the podium floor.
“My master, I offer you a gift. As a ‘thank you’ for everything you have done for us,” Urag says.
Mutaro then turns his hands one over the other. The chain that Urag once held plants itself deep into the stone below him.
Urag stands up. The orc commander then walks down the podium steps and joins the other orcs. Then, Mutaro walks toward the closest prisoner. He crouches down to eye level. The prisoner shakes violently.
“You know of an Aaron Silver?” Mutaro asks quietly.
The man shakes his head.
“No? Well let me tell you. He is your new leader…of the ones you have left, anyway. He approached me a few days ago, he told me that he and his people would rather fight and die than join me.”
Mutaro pauses, but none of the prisoners reply to his story.
“If it wasn’t for the Silver Savior’s rash heroic choices, you all might have not died tonight.”
Hearing Mutaro’s words the prisoners desperately tug at the chain where it is firmly planted into the podium.
“Human compassion…nothing but a hindrance to greatness,” Mutaro says.
He stands and walks to the front of the stone podium, facing the orcs below him. The orcs cheer wildly as they see Mutaro standing before them.
“Tonight…the deep magic will return once again. For tomorrow we will take Neroman, once and for all!”
The orcs below Mutaro rally themselves into a frenzy. Mutaro turns his hands one over the other. The black cloud emerges. Raising both of his hands, the wizard then throws the spell toward the prisoners.
The next moment, the humans are all incinerated.
Half a mile outside of Meldom, two human scouts appear. They see Meldom in the distance—and the orcs who surround the city.
“Do you have a rough count?” one of the scouts asks.
“I do…it’s worse than we thought,” the other scout warns.
As they watch, the orc army suddenly moves away from Meldom. The two scouts soon hear drums banging in synch to the orcs marching together.
“Let’s head back to the royal forest,” the first scout suggests. “Daniel and Jaylen will need to hear this.”
The two scouts mount their horses and gallop away, hidden by the night.
Back at the royal forest, several days after Laura and Kamara sailed off to meet with the Treno-Ban, Jaylen oversees a battalion of soldiers as they run through military drills. The archers use the trees of the forest and empty wooden barrels for target practice; the swordsmen follow sequences of parries and advances as they swing their swords in front of them.
As Jaylen watches over, he sees Daniel walking past the battalions.
“Enough for today,” Jaylen tells the soldiers. “Practice on your own, if you wish.”
As the battalion slowly disbands, Jaylen shouts, “Daniel!”
Daniel turns but only scowls at Jaylen.
“I don’t want any ill will between us,” Jaylen defends himself once he has run across to meet Daniel. “These people look up to us. I’m not sure how they’d react if they see us turn against each other.
“I’m sorry,” Jaylen says.
Jaylen’s contrition seems to calm Daniel’s stance. Jaylen then offers his hand to Daniel, which Daniel graciously meets with his own.
“We have something incoming!” a woman shouts down from the trees.
Daniel and Jaylen break their handshake and head toward the treeline. Once they reach the edge of the forest, they see a large contingent of soldiers marching toward them.
“That’s no orc army…,” Jaylen says.
“Humans,” Daniel confirms.
The two start walking out of the forest and toward the group. Daniel then sees a man in the distance jogging toward them. Daniel stops, realizing that the man is Aaron. Then, Daniel starts jogging toward him.
“Aaron!”
The two friends run to each other and embrace.
“I thought you were dead!” Daniel whispers.
“You can’t rid of me just yet,” Aaron replies, laughing.
Jaylen then joins the two.
“Good to see you again, old friend,” he says.
“You, too!” Aaron replies.
A few moments later, the band of humans walks past them. Daniel and Jaylen smile at seeing them arrive at the Royal Forest.
“How many are there?” Daniel asks.
“Thousands of us, but only a few warriors,” Aaron answers.
“It’s more than we had before,” Jaylen says happily.
Then, George appears in the group behind Aaron. Daniel and Jaylen quickly drop their smiles, which Aaron notices.
“It’s okay, we’ve cleared the air,” Aaron says.
George then offers his hand to Jaylen and Daniel, who reluctantly shake hands with their former captor.
As the people of the West walk into the royal forest, they are generously greeted by the survivors of Dellmoor. They welcome them with open arms, and soon start offering them food. George, Aaron, Daniel, and Jaylen look on fondly as they approach the two factions easily meshing with each other.
A moment later, a man taps Jaylen on the shoulder.
“Commander.”
Jaylen turns to see the man
“Yes?”
“When we went searching for the remaining bodies at Dellmoor, we found this.”
The man points to a few barrels of ale by his side.
“With the humans coming together, perhaps we could celebrate?”
But Jaylen looks at the man, unimpressed. Aaron, Daniel, and George also turn to the man.
“Celebrate?” Jaylen argues. “We are on the verge of extinction…our race could be gone come tomorrow.”
“Exactly! So shouldn’t we make the most of today?” the man argues.
Jaylen then looks to Aaron, who nods his head in approval.
Jaylen turns back to the man and smiles.
“Open it up.”
The man laughs to himself; then he opens up the barrel.
“Grab some heavy hands, get that ale round the fire to celebrate!” Daniel shouts.
Daniel’s announcement is met by loud cheers from the men and women all around the campsite.
Aaron, Daniel, and Jaylen help several of the men and women lift the barrels of ale and haul them away. Soon after the barrels have been removed, Robert Carrick approaches George.
“This is something I have waited for all my life, seeing everyone under one flag.”
“It’s only been five minutes, father,” George says. “Wait until their true natures come out.”
“In such dark times, our survival is more important than our pride,” Robert replies. “It’s important we stick together. Then, even if we are to meet our maker, we do it together. You made the right decision coming here.”
Hours later, the ale in the barrels still flows through the cups of the entire camp. Humans of both Dellmoor and of the West sit around the campsite, drinking and laughing. As one of the women heads for the barrel, she finds it empty.
“Hey!” she drunkenly shouts to everyone. “This is empty!”
A man tries to stand. “Right—to Dellmoor!” he says. A few people follow the pair as they struggle to head off to Dellmoor.
Soon after the small party leaves in search of more ale, some of the men and women remaining start to sing loudly. Jaylen looks at them displeasurably—then, all of a sudden, a woman approaches him.
“Want a drink?” she says flirtatiously, and offers him a mug of ale.
“I’m
okay,” Jaylen says. He tries to joke: “Thank you, but someone has to stay sober.”
“Come on,” the woman says, not accepting Jaylen’s refusal. “Drink with me.”
She shoves the drink into his chest.
Jaylen takes the mug of ale. He cautiously takes a sip. The woman then laughs at him and walks away.
Jaylen watches the woman even as he carries on drinking the ale. Then he spots Aaron and Daniel walking away from camp together. He allows himself a brief smile at the sight of the old friends, then starts gulping down the ale.
At Dellmoor, the drunken group trundle through the desolated city.
“Where did you find it last time?” one of the men asks.
“Down here,” the man answers, pointing down the road.
Eventually, they come across a burnt tavern, where they quickly find more barrels. Once they see the barrels of ale, they all laugh hysterically.
“Right, let’s take these back,” one of the men suggests.
The each take a barrel and make their way back to the campsite.
At the campsite, Jaylen sits with a group of men and women around the fire, drinking from a new mug of ale. The men and women lean in to listen to Jaylen.
“I sliced down every orc I could find. I charged through fires no normal person would dare endure. I rescued children screaming for help. And then, I saw him…Luke Snow. I killed him almost instantly!” Jaylen exaggerates, slurring his words.
Back on her ship sailing from Treno-Ban, Kamara walks around the deck, keeping an eye on the sailors tending to the ship. Kamara then finds Laura by the gunwals, looking out toward the other Treno-Ban ships following them.
“Their ships are not as fast as ours, and our return travel has become significantly longer, days longer” Laura notes.
“As long as we get back with our reinforcements intact,” Kamara replies.
Laura does not respond. She only watches the other ships.
“Final count—we have four ships alongside ours,” Kamara informs Laura. “We rescued one hundred fifty soldiers from the island, and we have another two hundred men and children across all four ships.”
“Thank you,” Laura says. “How is the queen holding up?”
“It may be best if you ask her yourself.”
She turns and points toward Queen Athora, who is sitting sadly on the stairs leading below the decks. Laura looks on for a few moments then cautiously walks toward the queen. She sees that Queen Athora is distressed, looking blankly down at the stairs.
“We are almost at Neroman,” Laura informs her.
Queen Athora lifts her head to look at Laura.
“How many of my people survived?” she asks Laura sternly.
Laura looks back conflicted, hesitant to give an answer.
“How many?” Queen Athora repeats.
Laura sighs. “A few hundred.”
Queen Athora closes her eyes and shakes her heads softly.
“A lot of my people died on that island…how many didn’t have to…?” Athora mutters.
Laura sits next to Athora on the staircase.
“I know it’s easy for me to say, but you made the right decision. None of you would be here if you hadn’t been brave enough to make the choice. Hundreds of lives are saved…because of you.”
Queen Athora pauses a moment.
“If it wasn’t for you and your diplomacy act, the dragon would never have followed you.” But her anger soon disappears, and she takes a deep breath. “But you sought to save us; Mutaro only wants power and greed through means of destruction.”
“If we all fight together, he may never get the power he craves,” Laura argues.
Queen Athora smiles bitterly back at her, but the two nonetheless shake hands.
“So what are we to expect when we dock back at Dellmoor?” Queen Athora then asks, attempting to change the subject.
“Our morale is weak,” Laura answers. “We have never been in such dark times, not even during the Great War. But seeing you join our cause will lift everyone’s spirits.”
“It will be a significant moment in our history,” the queen says, “for we have not been on your shores in over a century.”
Laura smiles in reply: “We will create more history when we fight together.”
Back at the campsite in the royal forest, the barrels of ale continue to flow. Laughter is heard all around the site: a sound that had not been heard since before the fall of Dellmoor.
Still feeling fragile with alcohol, Jaylen sways around the camp. He quickly comes across a group of men and women sitting on wooden boxes arranged in a circle. Jaylen stands over them, but the group doesn’t recognize his presence.
“The next morning,” one of the men mutters, “I looked everywhere for my family; hour after hour I searched. To this day I don’t know their fate.”
“My son tripped as we were running away,” a woman says quietly. “The orcs were right behind us. My son told me to run—and I was stupid enough to listen. He was only sixteen.” The woman cries out in pain.
As Jaylen listens to the horrors being recounted by the civilians, tears start to fill his eyes. Finally, he extends the mug of ale in his hand and pours the ale he hasn’t yet finished all over the ground.
Then, he approaches the group.
“I take responsibility for the defeat at Dellmoor. And I wish I could have done more to help those you loved most.”
Before the civilians can reply, Jaylen storms bitterly out of the camp.
Farther out of the camp, Aaron and Daniel walk through the forest.
“So, what happened at Redlock?” Daniel asks curiously.
Aaron composes himself for a moment before he responds.
“It could have gone so differently…when I went North, I came across the hut Azdus and Goras lived in—but it was empty. Instead, I was met by a band of orcs, who carried me to Redlock. That is where I met Mutaro.”
“What was he like?” Daniel asks tentatively.
“He was everything you would expect when history calls a wizard a mad conqueror. He was powerful, intimidating, terrifying. He was the only person I’ve ever encountered who truly made me think I was going to die.”
“But you didn’t?” Daniel says. “How did you get out?”
“Azdus and Goras came to my aid—at the perfect time, I might add. But they forced me to evacuate the throne room before their fight finished. They could be dead, for all I know.”
“So—no peace terms agreed to, then?” Daniel asks sarcastically.
“Far from it. If anything, I hastened their efforts in destroying us,” Aaron replies.
“Anyway, what’s happened here then?” he asks. “Where is Laura?”
“Well, we are doing what we can. But we soon discovered that there is an island populated by tribal women warriors, just South of Neroman. But historically, there is hatred between the two sides. We sent Laura and Kamara down there to negotiate peace terms in an attempt to call on their aid.”
Aaron looks at Daniel cautiously.
“Sounds like a risk, Daniel,” Aaron tells him.
“It’s a risk worth taking, my friend,” Daniel replies. “So after Redlock,” Daniel says, not responding to Daniel’s assertion, “that’s when you headed west?”
“I needed to find out about them,” Aaron answers sadly.
Daniel looks at Aaron empathetically
“I know, Aaron,” he whispers. “I know.” He sets his arm around Aaron’s shoulder for a moment.
The two continue walking.
Soon, they find themselves overlooking a sudden cliff. The ocean spreads far and wide below them.
Aaron and Daniel look at each other in surprise.
“How far out have we come?” Daniel asks.
“All the way to the end,” Aaron r
eplies.
The two look over the cliff. They see a steep staircase running diagonally across the cliff face, carved into the hard stone and rock of the cliff. The staircase would allow them to travel down to a long and wide sandy beach at the bottom of the cliff.
Daniel sits down at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the ocean below. Aaron hesitantly joins him, fending off his dislike of heights. Daniel smiles at the wondrous sight the two have stumbled upon.
“I’m sure Sam would have had some facts hidden away about this part of the world,” Daniel says.
The two share a laugh at Daniel’s comment. But their laughter soon turns to sadness.
“I miss him,” Daniel confesses.
A short silence passes between the two friends.
“Me, too,” Aaron replies.
The two look out toward the open sea, their legs dangling over the cliff side.
“So much damage has happened over the last few days, so much pain,” Daniel says. “A part of me just wants to escape, and find the peace I took for granted before we left.”
Aaron looks at him but elects not to reply.
“King Edmund felt the same way.”
Aaron and Daniel turn to see Jaylen behind them, standing in a more sober fashion than when he left the camp.
“When the king first heard rumors of Mutaro’s return, he immediately sought a back-up plan, as he knew the devastation Mutaro had caused before. He called for ships to venture forth from Neroman, in search of other countries for us to settle, should we ever be put in the position of having to abandon our homeland. Unfortunately, none of the ships returned; soon after, you two arrived in the city.”
Having listened to Jaylen’s explanation, both Daniel and Aaron stand up and turn away from the cliff.
“I am assuming that these ships have not returned since our arrival in Dellmoor?” Daniel asks.
Jaylen does not respond. Instead, he looks past them, toward the ocean. His face lights up with surprise, and he points toward the ocean. Five ships sail toward the Dellmoor docks.
“Four of those are not Neroman ships,” Jaylen observes, once Aaron and Daniel have seen the ships for themselves.