by C. J. Krüger
“Shut up,” I tell him harshly. I hear Duncan’s faint heartbeat and I breathe a sigh of relief. “He’s all right.”
The dead around us begin to slowly rise up. Some were missing body parts, but now they are made whole. One of them blinks several times and starts touching himself all over.
“I’m alive?!” he exclaims.
“Yes,” I tell him, my voice shaking as I clutch Duncan tightly. “It’s a miracle.”
He looks towards Duncan and then starts weeping uncontrollably. “Oh, thank you, my lord, thank you,” he says over and over.
Duncan opens his eyes and lifts his hand. “Do not thank me,” he says firmly. “Thank Those who sent me, the Twin Lights of the Heavens. They resorted you to life.”
Everyone around me, including the newly raised Elves, are in total silence. They look awed and reverent and frightened all at the same time.
“In all my years,” Azhrav says quietly, “in all my years, I have never seen this.”
Duncan stands up, his legs shaking under him. I support him and keep him from falling.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“Are you fine?” I ask, my brows furrowing.
He nods. “Just a little overwhelmed,” he explains. “Their presence within me makes me a little shaky.”
“That was amazing, Duncan,” I tell him, my voice betraying my utter awe. “The dead were raised.”
We walk away from the commotion as the soldiers tend to the all the chaos. People who thought themselves dead are rushing to find loved ones and letting them know they are all right, or dropping to their knees to pray.
“The man who spoke is one of the scribes,” he says softly. “I saw Their mark upon him before I prayed. He will write about this and his words will spread like an oil fire in a dry season.”
“Couldn’t anyone have written about this?” I ask, lifting my brow.
He shakes his head. “It’s his purpose,” Duncan says patiently. “The Lights will speak through him and anyone who knows Them will see the truth.”
I have an urge to argue with him but I put it aside. For thousands of years, Elves have been the keepers of the Lights. Though Men and Dwarves know of Them, and even worship Them in the case of the Humans, it is the Elves who truly know Them. Is our relationship with Them so flawed? Do we not know Their wonders?
“My love?” he asks gently. “Tell me what is bothering you.”
“Am I so easy to read?” I ask, turning my face away.
He nods and smiles. “It’s a good thing,” he tells me kindly. “Being authentic, I mean.”
Sighing, I say, “I am the High Priestess of Arteria. If anyone should know the Lights, it’s me, but I’m starting to feel like I have never known Them my entire life. In a world of magic, there are few things that are impossible, but raising the dead is definitely one of them.”
“That’s why it had to be done,” he says philosophically. “All peoples—the Elves, Men, and Dwarves—for one reason or another have forgotten to give themselves completely to the Lights. Men make up their own holy laws to suit their own agenda. Elves follow the laws to the letter without really understanding that what the Lights want is you. They want a relationship with all of us.”
I am stunned by his words and my face flushes red. In all my years that thought has never occurred to me. I obey. I preach. I teach. Tears sting my eyes. “Why?” I ask. “We are all so flawed. The laws are there to make us better.”
“But not to earn Their love,” he says firmly. “That you already have. It is why They decided to bring back those people. To show us Their love, and that They are infinite.”
He wraps his arms around me and I feel his lips pressing against my neck. I shudder and push my body against his, wanting to feel him all around me. It makes me feel safe.
“I’m going to need your help,” he says softly. “We live in a world where people either don’t know the Twin Lights or think they don’t really need Them. They are arrogant and rely solely on themselves and their own power. To win this war, we are going to have to show everyone the truth.”
“And what is the truth?” I ask, my voice quivering.
“That even though we are flawed and dark and incapable, They love us,” he says, squeezing me tightly. “They want us. All of us! The Void wants to break us down. Twist us. Control us. If we do not trust in Them… if we do not love Them and give ourselves entirely to Them… it won’t matter how powerful we are. We will fall.”
“I do,” I say, though not because I am afraid. “I do give myself to them, though I don’t know exactly what that means. I believe in you, Duncan. I believe in your words that come from Them. I am Theirs and I am yours.”
Chapter Ten
Duncan Lightheart
(Year 3761)
One hundred and forty-four men and women of all races are gathered in the Temple of the Holy Lights. We are the Sol Guard. They have formed several neat lines and as I scan over the lot of them, I see several familiar faces. Ayda, David, and Azhrav are at the front, along with Urgnak, Sivandar, and, surprisingly, Professors Heathrow and Duvox.
The other faces are unknown to me, except a few of the Elves I have met in passing. I stand tall in front of them as their leader and teacher.
“Welcome,” I say in a booming voice. “The Lights welcome Their children into Their house, and bless you for being here.” I begin to pace back and forth, feeling more nervous than anything else. “Starting now, you are to forget allegiances, grievances, and all that you think that you know. Starting now, you will humble yourselves and give your lives to our Heavenly Parents. Today, you all become the first, last, and only true line of defense against the growing Darkness.”
These words stir them but not all positively. Some have dark faces as I speak and I can sense their malcontent.
“And how long will this take?” a man asks, his tone filled with fear and anger. “Kal-Gora will be under siege soon. Demon armies march from the north.”
“That depends on you,” I tell him firmly. “But trust in my father and in my mother. Through the Light’s help, they saved Kal-Gora once and they will do so again. The fate of this world will not be decided there.”
I lock eyes with David and he gives me a nod of approval. For a moment I am struck by how much he has changed in a year, but I am glad to see his face. Moving on, I scan over the crowd and I see that many seem to be focused and ready.
“Today you are all Sol Guardians,” I say loudly, my voice echoing off the walls of the temple, “Champions of Light that will sweep away the tides of Darkness. You do not yet know how you will do this, but that is fine. I will teach you.”
Both of my old professors give me a proud smile and my spirits soar just a little. Even Azhrav is looking at me with approval and I can see in his eyes that his lack of faith is being washed away. More than that, I can sense Their pleasure at feeling Their son return to them.
“There are a few things you have to know first before we begin,” I tell them. “You are incapable. You are flawed. Your own power is as worthless as sand in a desert. But that’s fine, because you have Their love. No matter what, you have Their love. And all they want from you… is you. No more. No less. Just you.”
I stop pacing in front of them and my eyes fall to my wife. The emotion in her face is nearly enough to reduce me to tears. Many are sharing my response, though there is anger among others. No one likes being told that their own power isn’t enough.
“There are three key things you will be learning from me. The first is to be humble. You will give yourself to Them and accept that you do not know yourself. Then you will learn faith because They will give yourself back to you a hundredfold. You will be more yourself than you have ever been. And you will trust in them completely.” I pause for a moment, looking over them. I have their attention now and I can see how eager most of them look.
“Finally,” I say slowly, “and most importantly, you will learn how to love. You will love yourself, and
you will love Them. Your cup of love and compassion will overflow until you love all Their children as you love yourself.”
“How will this help us to fight?” A dwarf asks, her steely eyes boring into me. “How will love keep the demons from destroying our homes?”
“Because they are hate incarnate,” I tell her. “And love is stronger than hate. Do not trouble yourself with strength of arms and learning to fight or gaining more power. The Twin Lights will give you what you need,” I assure them all. “I cannot make you do anything. I cannot push you through the door, but I can show it to you. All you need to do is take the first step and by Their authority, I will lead you down the path of righteousness.”
* * *
Two weeks have passed since I addressed the Sol Guard recruits. Reports have come in from Kal-Gora that my father is mobilizing his armies and is strengthening his defenses. More troublesome reports coming from the north indicate that the demon army is now finally starting to march. Over a hundred thousand beasts and monsters, filled with corrupting magic and fueled by darkness, are bent on destroying the Kingdom of Men.
Even more than the demon army, I am troubled by the Mistress of Nightmares and her attempts to subvert my father’s rule. The city will be attacked from without and within.
Meanwhile, the Sol Guard is training hard and studying harder. Even now, all of them are sitting in the center of the temple, meditating quietly. I’m observing from above, taking the time to process the situation. They have made progress in two weeks, to be sure. Some even show signs of the Golden Fire, but I sense unrest among the majority.
They do not feel worthy of love.
Do not be troubled, the soft voice of I’luna caresses my thoughts. We are working within all of them.
I just want them to know You, I say, feeling quite feeble and foolish. Am I expecting too much?
Perhaps, Sol-theron replies. You need to remember, Duncan, that it is not you who are teaching them. You cannot make them do anything. Leave it in our hands and have faith.
Yes, Father, I say, feeling encouraged. Thank you. I begin to descend the marble stairs of the temple, taking care to make sure my steps are soft. The spiral staircase is long and open so I can see them as I walk. When I reach the garden grounds where the Sol Guardians are meditating, I clear my throat.
They break their meditation and look up at me expectantly.
“Brothers and sisters,” I say, my voice weighty and firm. “All of you are warriors, adept at magic and skill-of-arms. I have made you run and fight each other until your bodies feel like crumbling. I have put writings with Their words in front of you to read and learn from. So what do you think is holding you back?”
It’s Azhrav who says, “Faith. Even I, the great Emperor of the Sea, lack faith,” he says, mocking himself.
“That is why you lack faith,” I tell him, kneeling down before him. “You still think of yourself as an emperor. Not as a child of the Lights. Not as one who is loved.”
He trembles and nods but says nothing else.
“It’s a choice,” I say, standing up. “Faith is a choice. Giving yourself to Them is a choice. They sent me here to act as guide for you all, but I cannot walk this path for you. Trust in my words. Watch how I walk. Every step I take and word I speak comes from Them. Just believe.”
Silence.
They all look at me as if I should say more but there is nothing else to say. Kal-Gora needs these men and women or it will fall. But I can’t tell them that. They can’t make this choice out of fear. I turn my back on them, my heart heavy with doubt.
I drop to my knees and face the center fountain of the temple. Lowering my head, I begin to pray, “Father Sun, Mother Moon, I give my life to You now and for all time. I am a wretch with shattered bones. I cannot walk but for Your grace keeping me whole. You catch me when I fall. You uplift and cure me of my wretchedness. All I have is thanks to You. My parents, my wife, and my life are all Your blessings.” I pause and lift my head toward the sky. “Thank you, Father Sun and Mother Moon. Thank You for loving me when I have done nothing to deserve it. You who are infinite and mighty love me. I give my life to you.”
I feel warmth caressing my body and then a bright light shines through me. Others gather around me and I feel their hands touching my shoulders, my back and my head. They all have dropped to their knees and have begun to pray with me. The light is shining through all of us now and it grows brighter and brighter but it never becomes blinding. It is warm and lovely and gentle and we bask in it.
You are Our children, the unified voice of the Lights echoes through the temple. Take heart and be blessed, children of the Sun and of the Moon.
We all stand and our eyes glow bright with Golden Fire. I turn to look at my fellow brothers and sisters and every one of them is with me. As one, we shout to the heavens and giant golden wings sprout from our back.
“Who are we?” I ask in a thundering voice.
“Sol Guardians!” they answer back.
Somewhere, in the deep dark of the world, I sense the Darkness cowering back. It knows we are coming. The Light will spread across Argurion and Golden Flames will cleanse the corruption that the Void has wrought.
“We march, brothers and sisters,” I say and take a steadying breath. The light starts to die away and I turn to face the others. “Kal-Gora will be under siege soon if it isn’t already. The Darkness knows we are coming and it is afraid. Let’s show it why it should be.”
Chapter Eleven
I look ridiculous, Ronae mutters in my mind. My coat is flawless. Why would you cover it?
I sigh as I again unsuccessfully try to dress Ronae in barding. “You’ll thank me when it saves your life, you stubborn horse.”
I am not a horse, he says and snaps at my fingers. I am the lord of the Quel’ras.
“I didn’t know that,” I admit, my brows furrowing.
You education is lacking, he snorts.
“But it doesn’t change the fact that you are going to wear this,” I say, lifting up part of the barding. “It might be a silly invention of Men but you are going to wear it. Your silver coat is the most magnificent I have ever seen but does it protect you from a demon’s claws?”
Diarmuid…
“Isn’t here,” I snap and then feel sorry for doing so. “And Mother was hurt recently, too. I just don’t want to see anyone else injured.”
The Quel’ras’ eyes soften. Fine, he acquiesces. But make it a different color.
“What’s wrong with the color of steel?” I ask, furrowing my brows.
If I am going to wear something so ridiculous, I had better look phenomenal, he says firmly. Gold with hints of blue will look gallant against my coat.
“I never expected you to be the vain type,” I mutter as I channel my will into the barding. The metal changes from its plain color to a rich gold with blue around the legs and neck. “It is fitting, though,” I say, admiring the armor. “We’ll be like torches that shine brightly at midnight.”
I approve, he says and rubs his muzzle against my hand. I am sorry for the loss of Diarmuid. He was my oldest friend. We will avenge him.
I nod and wipe the gathering tears in my eyes. Though I try not to, thinking about his death and all he left behind still chokes me with emotion. Taking a deep breath, I attempt yet again to put the barding onto Ronae. He lets me this time, and I can see that he even looks pleased with himself.
“You look amazing, Ronae,” Ayda says, coming up to us. She is dressed in gleaming white plate armor with golden accents on the shoulders and around the neck. “In fact, I bet I can convince Coria to wear some armor when she sees you. Very impressive.”
The Quel’ras nickers in approval and preens. I will go find her.
“Show off,” I mutter as he trots off. “You look ready for war,” I tell Ayda, looking her up and down. “But where did you get the armor?”
“I think They gave it to us,” she admits. “You should see everyone else. We were all praying after y
ou left and the armor suddenly appeared, just like yours did during the coronation.”
Somehow I am not surprised by this. “They are truly amazing in what They provide. Have you tried using pocket magic to store it?”
She smiles and closes her eyes. For a second nothing happens, but then there is a flicker of light and her armor is replaced by tight-fitting riding leathers. “I’ve stored practically my entire wardrobe,” she admits sheepishly. “Miranda suggested it.”
“Who?” I ask, lifting a brow.
“Miranda Duvox,” Ayda says. “I’m still very impressed with how creative Humans can be with magic.”
“Lazy,” I remind her. “I should probably go chat with her and David. Oh, and Professor Heathrow.”
“Whether lazy or creative, it amounts to the same thing,” she says wistfully. “Malcolm is a darling man, by the way. A little off, but very sweet.”
“I didn’t realize that you are on a first name basis with my old teachers,” I say and wrinkle my nose. “I don’t even really know them, or any of the Sol Guard.”
“There is a way to change that,” she suggests lightly and wraps her arms around my neck. “But maybe it’s for the best. They respect you a great deal. They don’t need a friend—they need a leader.”
“Has anyone been giving you trouble because you’re my wife?” I ask, lifting a brow.
She shakes her head. “Everyone has treated me with the utmost respect. I think everyone realized quite quickly that it didn’t matter where any of us came from. We are in this together.”
The subtle change in my wife since our conversation after the attack at Silvertree Village is quite noticeable in this moment. I think that seeing the dead being brought back to life shook her to the core, but I see clearly now that she is being rebuilt. Her eyes are light and alive in a way they weren’t before and I can see that doubt and fear have vanished from them.
“Let’s go check on the others,” I say softly. “We ride out in a few hours and I still need to address the Seventh Legion.”