Passage to Glory: Part Two of the Redemption Cycle

by J. R. Lawrence

  The surge of power behind Maaha’s blow shook the entire tower, and it seared a hole through the opposite wall, in direct line where Alastra had been standing. But the priestess of the Shadow Queen was nowhere in the chamber, having sunk down into the web at her feet at the last second, vanishing into another plane of existence.

  Tyla let Nel’ead to the floor and rushed to his side, readying her spells for healing, but Maaha turned away toward Dril’ead. He crouched upon the ground, cradling the head of the ranger, tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked up at Maaha, his wet face glowing in the candlelight of the throne room, his eyes full of pain and sorrow. Anger festered and faded from them, replaced with long awaited grief.

  “Why?” he demanded. “Why did she have to save me? Why did she have to die?”

  Maaha’s mouth curled into a frown, and she felt the tear burning in her eyes. “So that you might find them, Dril’ead Vulzdagg,” she said to him.

  Dril clutched at Yaldaa more earnestly, dropping his head against hers. “I don’t want to!” he screamed. “I never asked for this! I never ever wished for this to happen!”

  Maaha came to him and knelt across from him, laying her hands on his arms as she released a wave of warm comfort into him, and his tears paused. “And did Neth’tek ask to leave you behind?” she asked. “Did Vaknorbond ask to take him away, to betray his family in order to save them? Like the mighty warrior, Dril’ead, you must remember that they were willing to do such things for your salvation. You must be willing too.”

  “Salvation,” Dril’ead breathed out, as if releasing a pain long torturing him. He looked up into Maaha’s eyes, that strength again returned to them, and said, “Our salvation.”

  He passed Yaldaa’s body into the hands of Maaha, and resting a hand on her shoulder he said, “I forgive you, Maaha Zurdagg.”

  She could not hide her joy of hearing such kindness and generosity from the warrior she had tortured for many years, to hear from his own mouth that he had forgiven her for all of it. Maaha smiled. She through an arm round the young fighters neck and pulled him inward for a quick embrace, releasing him to hold him there a moment longer.

  “Goodbye, Dril’ead Vulzdagg,” she said to him, “We will not meet again on this earth.”

  “Goodbye, old friend,” he said. He took up his swords and stashed them in their proper coverings.

  “Now go,” Maaha said, pushing him away toward Tyla and Nel’ead, “There is one more you must speak with; one whose soul will not rest without seeing you.”

  Dril looked up toward Nel’ead, Tyla working over him desperately, and he knew that the warrior would not last long. He moved toward them, crawling on his hands and knees, and stopped across the body from Tyla.

  “I cannot keep his energy up,” Tyla told him. “He’s fading fast.”

  “Then you have done all that you could,” Dril replied.

  “Is that Dril’ead Vulzdagg?” Nel’ead asked in a croaking voice, his hand reaching up to grasp at the front of his tunic, fingers hardly strong enough to keep their grip. “Is this he whom I owe an apology? Is this the one?”

  “I am Dril’ead,” Dril answered. “Though, you owe me know apology.”

  “I am sorry!” Nel’ead groaned. “I was wrong about you! I thought you a murderer and a liar, when in reality you are the most honorable and worthy friend I could have ever had the chance to meet. I wish... I wish that I had known you better.”

  “It is all right,” Dril said to the trembling Nel’ead. “I forgive you.”

  Nel’ead’s grasp on the front of Dril’ead’s tunic suddenly failed, and the hand fell limply at his side, all the strength and energy fading at last from his body. “Be at peace, Nel’ead Swildagg,” Dril said to the calm face.

  The tower shuddered, stones breaking free from above and crashing upon the ground, though those falling into the circle of the Circle of Power vanished through the portal in the realm of the Shadow Queen. Dril’ead knew his time was running short. They would have to escape the frontier of Swildagg before the tower collapsed, bringing down the whole mountain range with it.

  “Go, Dril’ead, while there is still time!” Tyla said to him.

  “There is little enough time already!” Maaha cried from behind him. “I and Tyla will contend with the Shadow Queen, bearing up the weight of the citadel until you are out, and then we shall bring it down atop her mighty foundations. It will damage her, and we all will have the satisfaction of having defied her in her wretched throne! Go now!”

  Dril turned to face her, rising to his feet. “It doesn’t feel right, leaving you both like this!” he said.

  A fragment of the ceiling dislodged itself, crushing the dais on which sat the remains of the Swildagg thrones. Maaha got to her feet, bearing Yaldaa’s body in her arms, her eyes set firmly on Dril’ead.

  “Find them,” she said to him.

  Dril turned to look at Tyla, now on her feet, holding the body of her brother. “Yes, Dril’ead,” she said. “Let us die here with honor. Neither I nor Maaha have a Branch left, or any family living to defend from the wickedness of the Shadow Queen. But you have got one more. Do not give up on him.”

  “Thank you,” he said, “Both of you.”

  “Go!” Maaha ordered.

  With her command came a wave of energy, propelling him away toward the doors out of the citadel. He looked back only once, and saw the two of them lay their loads upon the ground before taking their place in the Circle of Power, standing in the circles connecting to the main circle, both lifting their arms above their heads and chanting words that Dril’ead had never before heard. But he turned round and ran, jumping over those lying on the ground in his path, dashing straight for the tunnel from whence he and his companions had come from.

  Already the ground was chipping to pieces; small fragments of the earth falling within itself to be consumed in darkness, and the entire Shadow Realms seemed to tremble with the fall of the mountain.

  Maaha and Tyla stood their ground, eyes shut, and speaking words of command against the strength of the Shadow Queen. She was trying to collapse the mountainside and destroy Dril’ead in his flight, trying to gain revenge for the show of defiance that he had delivered to her, wiping out her entire plot to capture him. Maaha had done the real work, disguising herself among the shadows, vanishing from the sight of the Shadow Queen so she would never know she was there to crush the tower of her greatest servant. And, more humiliating, she had nearly defeated Alastra.

  And now the Shadow Queen wanted to bring it all down on top of Dril’ead. But Maaha and Tyla were left to contend with her might.

  Maaha could see Dril’ead now, and she watched him run toward the tunnel, waiting for him to pass safely within so that she and Tyla could let the load down atop themselves. They shared the weight. They waited for Dril’ead to escape. And in that final moment before she let it down, Maaha turned her thoughts toward the fiercest and strongest of all the warriors of the Shadow Realms.

  May this be our redemption!

  Dril stumbled and fell forward as the mountain gave way, the tower collapsing into the depths of the earth, and the entire Shadow Realms falling beneath it. Its roar was like thunder, shaking loose the stalactites to fall to the ground, crashing through one level of the underworld and into the next. Any hole or cavern caved in upon itself, and the city of Grundagg was consumed in a tremendous downpour of rock. Vulzdagg vanished into the depths of the earth, taking the slain of their people down with it, and the ruins of Zurdagg were buried. Swildagg, its tower once an emblem of pride, was gone. Any beast in that part of the land perished.

  But the tunnel in which Dril’ead had gone was not consumed in the fall of the Shadow Realms. Hours passed before the trembling ceased, the roar would echo for days, spreading the word of the destruction to all parts of the underworld, but Dril remained curled upon the ground until all was still. He looked up slowly, fearful of the ruin, and glanced over his shoulder at the tunnel entrance.

&n
bsp; All was dark.

  He blinked his eyes, focusing them back into the infrared spectrum, and looked harder. It was still dark. The tunnel entrance had caved in on itself, blocking his way back, if he ever intended to go back.

  Sighing, Dril’ead rolled onto his knees and looked down the passageway. The pathway was littered with rock and stalactite, parts of the walls and ceiling caving in, but none of it blocking his way of escape. So he picked his way down the tunnel, careful not to disrupt the already unsteady walls and ceiling of the passage, and made his way along to where once had been the place of Grundagg. The city, however, was gone.

  Redemption indeed, Dril thought, focusing his mind to Maaha, but found only an empty void.

  Stepping over a cracked stalactite, and bits of rock and dirt splayed across the pathway, Dril’ead ambled on, limping at times, his body overcome with weariness. But the words ‘find them’ continued to echo in his mind… the words of Maaha Zurdagg. The thought lifted him, pushed him forward, and he knew he had to find Neth’tek. He would wander the furthest expanses of the world if it would bring him to his lost brother, pass through dungeons filled with the most vile and ruthless monsters. He had to find him, and that was enough.

  The land was a maze of debris. There was no way Dril’ead could no where he was going. His body began to walk on its own, his mind drifting to other times, times with Gefiny and Neth’tek; remembering countless days spent sparring with the warrior-in-training. Gefiny believed he could find Neth’tek. She believed in him...

  He bumped into a stalagmite, half of it torn away and buried in a pile of crumbled rock, and fell against its side. Looking up he saw blurred shapes of rock, all piled over one another in great heaps rising above him on either side. They seemed to form a perfect pathway somewhere... where?

  Let it be death, he thought. There is no way I can escape this place now... no way I can get out...

  He slipped from the side of the stalactite and hit the ground. The scene around him blurred even more, until, at last, it was darkness. However, an odd shape came to him before he was completely unconscious. Odd, like the shape of a Drake of Swildagg, the same animal his father used to ride...

  Find them.

  Epilogue

  The Fight for Glory

  These days have been long, these years tiring, and this life trying. But it is the length, and exhaustion and the trials, which have been the moments worth memoriam. Because of the hard times, I was able to know the good times. Because of death, I was able to know life. I believe I needed the push that my comrades gave me the moment they died; allowing a surge of emotion to enter my mentality, pushing me forward to discover something forth fighting for, even something worth dying for. At least, this is what I believe.

  Before, I had supposed battle to be the last moment of ones life, and that it was in the hour of our conflict that a warrior was to prove him or herself worthy of the halls of their ancient glories. But as the caverns of the Shadow Realms fell over me, as the world in which I had lived my life with such creed collapsed into utter oblivion, I realized that turning from a fight wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  I believe in the necessity of combat. It is the first strike that matters more than the killing blow – the reason why it began.

  The Shadow Queen came into the Shadow Realms to create an army out of us. Those who had not been drafted into the ranks of the Urden’Dagg like Neth’tek, my brother. She came to usurp power and authority over us, to build an empire out of a people left untended. But, in the end, she failed even to do that. The Shadow Queen, in all her might and power, had not seen the small but determined strength of a few survivors. And, like all wounded warriors, they were unwilling to die in a corner, abandoned and forgotten.

  Like all warriors, it is our obligation to ingrain in our opponents a long lasting memory of fear and misery, never to be forgotten! And so we come, and so we go; leaving behind our legacy. Such warriors were at my side during the most trying moments, the most exhausting battles, never to step aside from me until our enemies struck them down.

  What confused me, and what I still cannot understand, was the sudden heroism in Maaha Zurdagg. Before, she had intended to rid the world of my namesake, hoping to obliterate my family and any who stood to defend us. She hated us, our hope and our stubbornness against her ineptitude. And yet, in the end, it was Maaha who joined sides with my companions and me, to bring down the might of the Shadow Queen.

  It was Maaha who held aloft the claws of the wicked goddess long enough to allow my escape, only to bring it down in full force upon herself and the whole of the Shadow Realms.

  Why had she done this thing?

  Why had Juanna fought off the forces of Swildagg when she knew that there would be no time for her own escape? Why had all my people stayed with me when they knew that they would not live to see the horizons with me? Why had Yaldaa taken the hit for me? And why had Tyla, the same mage who summoned the demon that destroyed my city and killed my beloved sister, remained with Maaha to contend with the might of the Shadow Queen?

  What had changed in the heart of Nel’ead Swildagg?

  Jastrum died fighting for a lie he had been tricked into believing. He died fighting the son of the killer of his father, thinking that he might be able to satisfy his revenge in my blood… I mourn for such intentions. If there had been any other way, if I had had another chance to stand before Jastrum’s wrath, what would I have done differently?

  I would have forgiven him.

  If I could stand before my father as he was about to take Neth’tek away from me, delivering him to the hands of the Urden’Dagg for the better of our chances, what would I have done differently?

  I would have left my swords undrawn.

  If I could rehear the words of Razarr of Vulzdagg, as he told me of a time when he failed to save the lives of his companions, what would I have said differently?

  I would have told my dear friend that I cannot make such promises. Who am I to halt the fates of those whose end will better shape the future? Who am I to steal from them their glory, their honor?

  If I could care for Nelastro now, what would I have done?

  I would teach the boy all that I know, all that these trying times have taught me, and hope to build hope in a hopeless mind. He was blind, and yet he saw far beyond the recollections of any soul I have had the chance of meeting. Above of all, though, he saw the strength in his own crippled form.

  If I could see Neth’tek now, what would I tell him?

  Dear brother, The Fallen leave open the gates of our salvation, revealing the passage unto glory! There is a weight, there is a sound, and there is a fight. They carried their weight, they heard the sound, and they fought their fight. What rewards they shall reap!

  Gefiny helped lift my weight. Naomi helped me hear its tender sound. Maaha helped me fight the fight. And I shall help you.

  The warriors disperse!

  ~ Dril’ead Vulzdagg

  The End of Passage to Glory