by Reaves, Troy
Gregor brought his eyes to meet Father Wallin's and replied simply. "Yes, Father Wallin."
"Do not trouble yourself with thoughts of what may be, Master Gregor. The time at hand should be your focus, and there is much you need to know. My long sleep was not a peaceful one, and I fear it is my duty to share knowledge of my dark dreams without the benefit of wisdom. A great demon is at the heart of the evil that has infected this land. This particular demonic power is rarely encountered within this world without being summoned, and only the most powerful summoners know the means to control one, though control is a strong word in this case. You encountered one of the Tharnorsa as a weapons page. It set you on the path that brought you to us. These terrible demons are feared even in the Abyss for their limitless cruelty and cunning." Father Wallin dabbed sweat from his forehead before continuing. "The Tharnorsa appeared to me as I slept, telling me of things to come. Terrible things, Gregor, where the very gates of the Abyss opened into the lands, and demons of every sort poured into the world. It knew you, Gregor. I am almost certain it was the one you encountered so long ago, and there is something else. It was not alone. A robed figure stood near, surrounded by the fires and bloody mists that emanated from the demon. I felt as though I should know the figure but..."
Gregor knew the figure and could hold his tongue no longer. "Tur'morival is the name that escapes you, Father Wallin. The priests believe the leader of the Order of the Crimson Night is no more, long since dead due to the passage of years. I know he is not. I, too, encountered him in the realm of dreams. He is a man no more, though I cannot say what he has become."
Shock silenced Father Wallin for a moment as he considered Gregor's words. "Why would even a fallen father of the God of Light seek to doom his soul and the lands which he sought to protect? Why would he seek to bring the Crimson Night that was foretold to pass? What could he possibly hope to gain? Is he mad?"
“Only he knows the answer to those questions. I have every intention of finding him to stop whatever it is he thinks he is planning. I can only hope that the demon aiding him is the one responsible for the slaying of the Knights I served. It will feel the full wrath of my heart and purity of my soul. I promise you this, Father Wallin; the demon will not come to this world again, even if I have to follow it into the Abyss to destroy it."
***
The two great wolves ran through the wood taken by the will of the hunt. Prey was near and though there was hunger in the pair, there were two individual passions that drove the wolves; one propelled by feral instinct and the other by a need for the freedom of the animal form. Fang and Tana had hunted together often since their lives interlaced so long ago, but somehow this time was different for the huntress. She had taken to the trees of the unknown forest with Fang to disrobe and change into the form of the animal Tana called kin, as much to escape the press of their journey as to leave the thoughts that clouded her mind so much of late.
The Goddess she served gave little counsel despite the entreaties Tana voiced in prayer. She grew more certain of the link that bound her to Gregor with each passing day. Tana feared for the innocence the young warrior possessed. One could not be thrust into the world and not be corrupted by the forces that surrounded them, even in the sanctuary of the Temple of Light. Evil of many forms tainted the natural places and the cities were filled with dubious men at the best of times. These were not the best of times. Gregor’s simple nature had awakened a desire in her to protect him, and she felt the loss of his company with so great a distance between them. There was another feeling her travel down the road to Zanthfar had brought to the surface, one Tana could no longer brush away. She felt the pull of desire for the man he was to become.
Scents and sounds of the deer the pair tracked drove thought from Tana's mind. She gave herself to the hunt and kept pace with Fang as the two wolves neared the kill. Instinct was so much simpler to understand than emotion.
Fang tore at the deer, eating her fill of the first fresh meat she had taken in quite some time. Her mistress was captured by the fire before her, staring into the dancing flames, deep in thought. She was enveloped in the sounds of the forest as her mind kept taking her to the first time she had encountered Gregor, long before the careless swordsman had entered her home.
The dream had been as real as the flames that flickered before her now, though the place she had found herself in had been very different. She was trapped in a rocky valley shadowed by two great mountains. Little vegetation was visible, and what trees and grasses there were struggled to retain their normal forms. The sparse growths were twisted by a pervasive evil that hung over the landscape. Tana felt weaker with each breath of tainted air that stank of sulfur and brimstone. She stared into the darkness where the valley’s entrance was lost around a natural bend in the rock, sensing more than seeing the vicious forms that would soon enter the narrow stretch of land where Tana found herself.
The swordsman had appeared halfway down the rocky wall of the cliff to Tana's right, bent on one knee with his head bowed and a black blade held out before him. The dim light of the valley made the glowing weapon all the more remarkable, burning away the darkness near the man and making his plated armor glow. Gregor had lifted his head and pointed the sword to something behind Tana, nodding as he looked beyond her. Tana tore her gaze away from the warrior to see what he was acknowledging. The avatar behind her was as wide as the valley and as tall as the mountains it floated between. The Goddess of Nature extended her arms as Tana watched, restoring the plant life below her outstretched hands. The avatar nodded to Gregor and then to Tana as the druid huntress knelt to honor the vision. Tana had no fear as the avatar disappeared, and she turned to meet the creatures she knew would flow out of the darkness in moments.
The holy warrior appeared at her side. "We must not fail." The words were the last thing she had remembered before Tana had awakened from the dream, and she had known Gregor was that warrior the first time he spoke. Tana had not been able to decipher the vision despite turning it over in her head often, but she knew in time they would stand together in battle. Their destinies were intertwined and victory would be a matter of faith.
***
Gregor knelt before the great altar in the main Temple, clearing his mind of all thought. He offered up prayers as instructed by Father Wallin and focused on opening his body and spirit to communion with the God of Light. A multitude of candles drove the shadows from the circle of light in which he knelt, illuminating the form of the God he served that towered over the altar. Gregor gazed openly upward into the stone eyes of the statue that seemed to contemplate the faithful warrior. He could not help feeling his worth was being measured as the words of faith and commitment passed his lips.
Hours passed before the final judgment of the God of Light came. Gregor felt an undeniable force draw him to his feet as the statue before him was enveloped in light, pushing away even the glow of the flickering candles surrounding him. Father Wallin had prepared the warrior for this moment, and Gregor unsheathed the black blade of Elenondo, bringing it up and pointing it toward the God of Light as he had been instructed. As if in answer to the gesture, light poured from the statue’s stony eyes and engulfed Gregor in divine power. Nothing could have prepared the warrior for the sensations that flooded into him as the God of Light set his entire being aflame with energy. There was no pain, only the complete understanding of the divine strength of the God that had chosen him. Gregor knew now that he had been chosen to serve the light long before he understood such a faith even existed. A final surge of divine power ignited his sword, much as it had done in the arena. When the light diminished, runes remained near the base of the blade on either side of its flat surface. Gregor stared at the markings, at a loss for comprehension.
"You are complete, Master Gregor, and the God of Light has titled you well." Father Wallin looked at the runes carved into the blade of the knight's sword. "The markings are an ancient tongue that is all but forgotten, except for those of us who s
erve and study within the great library. They spell Onmea, the Sword of Light, and that is how you shall be known. Lord Gregor Light-sword, I bow to the Knight of the Golden Dragon."
11
Meetings
The last days of the journey had been uneventful as Tana and Fang neared Zanthfar. The road was well patrolled for several days’ march from the main city and wooden towers manned by standing garrisons dotted the road. Tana encountered frequent patrols of well-mannered soldiers that kept merchants and travelers safe as they neared the city. These men and women carried stories of orc raiding parties that appeared to have driven the rogues and bandits from their usual hunting areas. The soldiers were not pleased by this new development, but they had been able to kill or drive away the new threat so far. Each of the orc parties was led by a creature similar to the one Tana had encountered in her own forest, and it was these beasts that had caused the most loss of life among the travelers and patrols. The beasts could not be captured and there were no remains when they were killed, so the soldiers were at as much of a loss as Tana to determine their origin. All of the roads that led into Zanthfar were plagued by these frequent attacks and the war party sent out by the city to locate their source had not returned.
The pair had bypassed the city to take the more direct path to the Grove that oversaw the wild lands of Zanthfar. The forests surrounding the central meeting place were full of makeshift camps, and more rangers and druids of the Goddess were arriving daily. Tana made her presence known to the high Druids overseeing the gathering and offered what services she had to provide food and shelter for the multitudes. Mithirina, the leader of the Grove, assured her that the villagers protected near the Grove had provided for the gathering long before the calling went out, and all knew the true bounty of the Goddess. "You should take counsel with your brothers and sisters. We shall share our knowledge soon and we must all learn what we can as the rest of those sent for arrive. I imagine there are many here you have not seen for some time. Share the peace of this Grove and rest while there is still an opportunity."
Tana moved through the scattered camps and was warmly greeted by strangers and old friends alike. The forest dwellers shared stories similar to Tana's own, colored by their perception and the lands from which they had come. Tana noted the men and women who protected the mountainous northern lands had been sorely tested with the incursion of the brutal orc tribes. These humanoids, though primitive and savage, had never been a direct threat to the mining camps located throughout the rocky terrain until recently. Some orc groups had even taken slaves and begun extracting ores from the tunnels. Rangers who tracked the ore laden caravans of these orcs noted that they were moving into the barren wastes that were shunned by the hardiest plant and animal life. They could not fathom what power could coordinate such organized movement among the savages. The beasts of burden that were loaded with the bounty were a mystery in themselves. "Lizards wit’ thick ‘ides an’ t’ree pair of legs endin’ in clawed feet. Th’ creatures be as long as two horses an’ stand ‘alf th’ height of a man. Th’ beasts were driven forward by th’ constant crack of a t’ree-pronged barbed whip wielded by ‘andlers that took their lives into their ‘ands with every step. Th’ lizards seem to ‘ave little need o’ food. Their meals are comprised of slaves brought for that purpose, or th’ corpses of their orc ‘andlers that are caught nappin’." The mountain ranger describing the lizards took a moment to poke casually at the fire before him. "They kill ‘em orcs when they can and, more often than not, th’ lizards drag off th’ wounded ones after a battle before fleein’ deeper into th’ mountains. Makes it difficult ta interrogate th’ bastards when th’ wounded are taken by their own pets."
"They might have been trained that way." Tana interjected the thought that seemed to be shared by many of the others around the fire. Nods of agreement were seen as the ranger made to answer.
He shook his head before replying, his gruff voice tainted by despair more than a desire to disagree. "These be sad times when even th’ barbarian orc tribes would rather be ate alive than caught. It mus’ be sumthin’ terrible that would make any creature choose death from th’ rippin’ jaws of one of those lizards over th’ punishment of their master. Dark times."
***
Two days after Tana had arrived, a gathering of all those assembled was held. The sheer number of people that had come made it necessary to send various animal companions away, and still the open center of the Grove was filled with tight groups of rangers and druids from all across the lands. Each group was notable by both the markings on their armor and the various leathers that composed said protections. Tana recognized many of the groups from her studies but, even among her peers, there were markings that predated written languages; ancient tongues and insignias unknowable to outsiders. Every size and shape of man and woman was represented, from the thin delicate tree dwellers of the great forest, rumored to have distant connections to the long forgotten elves responsible for training and educating the earliest druids, to the stout, broad men and women who watched over the deepest caves and tunnels that wound through the mountainous areas.
Tana had never seen the tree dwellers before though she had heard stories of them as a child. Many simple people thought of them as fey creatures born from the hearts of great old trees. Even other rangers and druids rarely saw them, and Tana could easily understand the mysticism that surrounded these people as she looked at their delicate features and the gentle point of their ears, so like the red foxes'. Each of the three that had come had long flowing hair with intricate braids held by links of thin vines and leaves. The forest they called home was an ancient one that no hunter dared enter, full of creatures considered rare and magical. Anyone seeking to pillage that bounty would rarely escape the creatures within, and never made it from the wood without the aid of its protectors.
The mountain people were another story. They were well respected among the miners they kept safe. Gifts of strong drink and fine mining tools were often left for them in tribute before ore was drawn from a new shaft. These mountain rangers often set markings for the miners to guide their picks and keep them from dangers like faults in the stone and hidden underground riverbeds that could collapse tunnels on the unwary. Some of the hardiest mountain people even took brides from the family they protected, and this was considered a high honor for the family of the lass in question. The miners prospered, and the mountain rangers and druids kept their numbers growing, which was crucial in light of the latest developments. Despite the welcoming nature of the rocky mountains’ protectors, Tana found their stories the most terrible. It was their people who suffered the most at the hands of these new threats, and there was no end in sight.
Mithirina brought her hands up to quiet the murmuring gathering, and silence, broken only by bird songs, enveloped the Grove. "Let me start by thanking all of you who have come. The numbers who have responded to the calling far exceed our greatest hopes. We have much to review with you, and there is much to accomplish before the light of the sun passes away today. There are a few I wish to introduce before going any further. The sturdy gentleman to my left is Fasurel Stonecutter, a man well known to the people who call the mountains to the north home." Several cheers broke from the crowd as Fasurel raised a rough, callused hand in greeting. "His knowledge of the great mountains of his people is matched only by his bravery when defending them. Mistress Alunia joins us from the ancient forest to the east. As many of you know, the Ardataure peoples keep constant vigil over the mystic beasts within their forest, creatures that once roamed all these lands in the ancient times. Mistress Alunia's sharp eyes have already brought us much information about the problems in the wild lands where this Grove makes its home. Last, I present to you, Lord Galant Silverwing, ranger, protector, and the last Knight of the Golden Dragon. This man dedicated his life to the destruction of all manner of evil forces throughout these lands before being called as a ranger of the Goddess we all serve. He is a servant of two faiths, a bridge betwee
n the natural and the civilized world. Each of these three representatives brings their special gifts to us, and hopes that we can together find a way to end the troubles that have come to our lands."
The lead druid paused for the spontaneous applause that could not be contained. Tana was shocked at the sight of Master Silverwing standing among the various people's leaders. His appearance as the representative of the civilized human settlements, and being noted as a bridge between the keepers of nature and the same, would have been curious enough when Tana considered what she knew of the man. It seemed to Tana that Master Silverwing had long ago turned his efforts to the protection of his remaining brothers in arms and away from the general population. His appearance was surprising enough, but the twin blades hanging at his sides brought up a number of other questions. These were the twin blades which Gregor had put into Master Firebeard's care, showing signs of work that could only be attributed to him as they glowed in the sunlight, fully restored. The myriad questions in her mind would have to wait, and with effort Tana pushed back the two most immediate ones: where was Gregor and was he safe?