The Tomni'Tai Scroll (Book 1)

by Sam Ferguson

  “So you banished the Sierri’Tai to the Netherworld to prevent this?” Talon guessed.

  “Precisely, but it was not long before I knew we were not safe. I soon had visions of Basei aligning himself with the same powers in the End War and we still lost. All of our sacrifices made during the war with the dark elves, and the sins upon my head for banishing their entire race through the Netherworld Gate appeared to be for naught, until I had a vision of a hero, one who could save us from our horrid fate.”

  “Get to the part about why you thought it was necessary to kill my father,” Talon snarled.

  “I had a vision, only once, but it was the most vivid vision I ever had. A soul sat on a razor’s edge. Half of him in shadow, half in the light. He was torn between good and evil. I watched Khefir come and claim the soul and take him to Hammenfein. This soul asked me for help, and once I freed him he became strong and slew Basei. Then, when the End War came, he stood tall against Terramyr’s enemies and he slew them with a mighty sword hewn from a dragon’s spine.”

  Talon shook his head. “I have heard enough,” he said. “You are mad.” Talon stood up, towering over Jahre and took the elf’s hair in his left hand as he put the knife to the elf’s neck. “Two weeks after you killed my father, half of the other families left my village. They took with them many of our best warriors. They left because without my father, they felt vulnerable. Three days after they left, the orcs came to slaughter us. My mother prayed to Basei for help, pleaded with him to come to our aid and smite our enemies.” A tear formed and hung from the corner of Talon’s left eye for a moment before jumping off and hitting the floor. “Basei came down in a cloud of fire and destroyed the orcs. I shouted and cheered as I watched fire falling from the sky and Basei wiped the orcs from our lands.” Talon bent down, putting his nose against Jahre’s so he could watch the elf’s golden eyes.

  “Then, when the orcs turned and ran, Basei turned on us and slaughtered everyone. I survived by hiding in the well, but when I emerged everyone else was dead. I found my mother near our smoldering house. The god she had prayed to for help killed her with his own hand. So you can go on about your End War if you want to, but I do not care. The Tomni’Tai Scroll will allow me to control the dark elves that you wrongfully banished. I will free them, and then they will help me dethrone the murdering demigod who betrayed my mother.”

  “There is still hope for you,” Jahre whispered. “You are destined for greatness, but you must give up your hate.”

  Talon shook Jahre roughly. “Tell me where the scroll is!”

  “Don’t tell him,” the servant said.

  “Talon released Jahre and went for the servant. He put him down with a quick thrust of the knife and watched as the lifeless body fell to the floor.

  “Talon, your father would be ashamed of you, and what you have become,” Jahre said. Tears streamed down his face now.

  “Don’t you talk of my father,” Talon growled. “You know nothing of him!”

  “Yes I do,” Jahre said defiantly. “He was my son.”

  Talon stood silently for a moment before shaking his head vigorously. “No, you’re lying, you’re trying to fool me. Just give me the scroll!”

  “Think back, Talon,” Jahre coaxed. “Your mother didn’t run after us that day. Why do you think that was?”

  Talon slammed his fist on the table. “Stop!”

  “It was your father’s idea. He offered to sacrifice himself to Khefir so that you might become something more than he or I could. He saw the greatness in you.”

  “No,” Talon yelled. He put the bloody knife to Jahre’s throat.

  “You must remember, he and I were arguing that day, before we left the house. Surely you remember something. He summoned me from my home to perform the sacrifice.”

  Talon kept shaking his head. “My father would never have left my mother to die,” Talon argued.

  “No,” Jahre admitted. “He wouldn’t have. But he didn’t know that would happen, neither did I. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “But it did happen,” Talon shot back. “You took my father, and because of you I also lost my mother. I was left alone in a burnt village filled with my dead friends. You did that to me.” Talon pressed the knife into Jahre’s neck just enough so Jahre winced. “Where is the scroll?”

  Jahre blinked away the tears. “It is in my left boot.”

  Talon reached a hand down and pulled a wooden cylinder from the boot and set it on the table. There were no markings on the wood, and no obvious way to open it. “How does it open?” Talon asked.

  “Only with the other relics,” Jahre replied. The walls and floor shook violently and a deafening, thunderous rumbling rolled through the chamber. Jahre’s eyes went wide with surprise.

  Talon smirked. “Our time is up.”

  “What was that?” Jahre asked.

  “I made a surprise with one of the underground gas lines,” Talon replied. “It should keep everyone busy enough for me to escape.”

  “You sabotaged L’gorech’s house,” Jahre surmised.

  “I did,” Talon admitted. “I opened a gas leak and set a few candles in strategic places.”

  “So my servant’s son is also dead then, I suppose, since you said he was tied up in the basement.”

  Talon shrugged. “He should have picked a better friend.” Talon bent down and pulled his pant leg up to reveal a small glass jar tied to his calf, just above the ankle. He untied the jar and set it in front of Jahre.

  Jahre eyed the blue flower inside and closed his eyes. “I still believe you can make this right,” Jahre said. “There is still some good in you.”

  “No,” Talon whispered as he opened the lid. “You killed everything good in me. You sucked it out, like a spider.” Talon placed the open jar on Jahre’s lap. “Soon it will recognize its toxin in your blood and it will extend its stem to attach to you.” Talon stood and took the scroll, tucking it into the back of his waistband.

  “I will fight for you,” Jahre promised. “I refuse to believe that your father’s sacrifice was in vain.”

  Talon regarded the old elf once more. The hist rose slowly snaked out of the jar and latched onto Jahre’s exposed hand. Jahre’s eyes went wide as it attached and began to pull against his skin. Talon smiled. “That particular flower grew on my mother’s grave.” Talon turned and started for the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an army to liberate and a demigod to kill.”

  “The flower isn’t big enough to kill me before someone finds me,” Jahre said.

  Talon stopped abruptly and hefted a washbasin out of its stand. He dumped the water on the floor and took the brass bowl in hand and approached a gold plated gas lamp protruding from the wall near the door. Talon cocked his head sideways to inspect the pipe that ran from the wall to the base of the lamp. One heavy swing shattered the lamp and ripped the fixture clean off the pipe. One more bent the pipe downward. A third, and final blow, bent the pipe back against itself with such force that the metal split and hissed gas into the room. Talon turned back to face the old elf. “I’m betting that all of Medlas’ available guards are already occupied at L’gorech’s house. No one will find you before the gas can reach the fire in the hearth over there.” Talon flipped the dented wash basin onto the table. “The hist rose will keep you in place until the fire consumes you. It’s better than you deserve, but it will do.” Talon walked to the door and pulled it open. “Say hello to my father for me, you evil cur,” Talon hissed.

  Then he pulled the door shut behind him.

  Talon sighed and leaned back against the door. He let his eyes close, but only for a moment. He would allow himself to enjoy his revenge later, for now he had to escape before this building exploded. He made for the opposite end of the council hall, retracing his steps from when he arrived. He jumped down three and four stairs at a time as he used his hand to steady himself.

  Two flights down he saw an elf carrying an armload of books coming up the stairs from one of th
e other floors. Talon jumped up, leading with his left foot and catching the elf by surprise. The two went flying down the stairs, Talon landing atop the elf and books crashing down around them. The elf never stood a chance, his leg twisted and broke as they tumbled and then Talon slammed the elf’s head onto the edge of a stair before somersaulting away without so much as glancing back.

  Once he reached the second floor landing he went to the window in the stairwell and peered down. He hoisted the window up and clambered onto the window sill for a better look to the side street below. It was empty. He gauged the distance to the building across the side street at about nine feet. However, there was a balcony that extended out from the other building’s second floor just a couple of feet. Talon rocked onto his haunches and then launched across, grabbing the edge of the balcony and pulling himself up quickly.

  He reached for the door and discovered it was unlocked. He smiled and slipped inside. He found himself in a long, narrow hallway. He tried the first door. It was locked. He tried the next and discovered it was also locked. Rather than waste time looking for an open door he pulled a lock pick set from under his wrist bracer and went to work. He had the tumblers clicking into place before he took more than four breaths, then he eased the door open and checked the room.

  An empty, neatly made bed stood at the center of the room. A small, wooden chair sat off to one side, and a coat rack was hung on the wall. Talon went in and shut the door behind him. He quickly pulled the red, Svetli’Tai Kruk tunic up over his head and threw it to the floor. Then he unbound the twine that held the pillow to his stomach and let those fall on top of the tunic. He untucked his earth-brown shirt, slipped off his boots, and undid his belt. He stripped the black trousers off to reveal dark green pants of cotton. Then, he grabbed the pillow and opened the stitching on its back to retrieve a pair of leather moccasins he had hidden inside. He stuffed his feet into the moccasins and then gathered his disguise into a bundle and shoved it under the bed.

  Talon straightened his shirt and then left the room. He looked down the hall, but decided it might be better to exit from the balcony before someone caught him in this building. He jogged silently to the end of the hall and flung himself over the balcony after checking to make sure the side street was still empty. He lowered himself slowly until his arms were fully extended and then he dropped to the cobblestones below.

  He quickly made his way to the south end of the city, being careful to keep his distance from any area that might have extra guards. He hoped the majority of them would still be dealing with the fallout from L’gorech’s house. There were not as many people in the streets as there had been the day before. The elves he saw now all talked amongst themselves in whispers and hushed tones. Three elves ahead of him huddled so close they were almost shoulder to shoulder on the side of the street.

  “I heard it was a malfunction with the lamp,” one of them said.

  “No, I bet L’gorech simply left the valve open. Everyone knows he was a blundering idiot,” the second said.

  “Have either of you seen it?” the third asked. “There is debris everywhere. Several nearby buildings were scorched and fires are still being put out. All of the Kruks have been ordered there to help with their magic.”

  “Horrible,” the first commented.

  Talon contained his smile and walked by the trio. He ignored others in the street, concentrating on escaping Medlas as quickly as he could. He paused only when a pair of Svetli’Tai Kruks ran across the road in front of him. He didn’t stop altogether, or turn away, but he slowed his pace and kept his head down a bit. The pair of guards were shouting and hollering before disappearing into a large building on the opposite end of the street. Talon decided it was best to turn down the nearest side street before any more of them came out of the building. He turned left and stopped abruptly when he almost walked directly into a Svetli’Tai Kruk headed the opposite direction.

  “My apologies,” Talon offered and he moved aside to let him pass.

  “I know you,” the elf said. Talon recognized the elf as the other guard from the gate. “I had an uneasy feeling about you when L’gorech let you in.”

  Talon raised his hands and smiled. “I don’t know what you are insinuating, but…”

  “You need to come with me,” the elf said. “L’gorech is dead.”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” Talon insisted. “I haven’t seen him since I arrived at the gate.”

  “Right, you expect me to believe that there just happened to be a gas explosion in L’gorech’s house? I don’t know what you are up to, but I am going to put a stop to it.”

  Talon shook his head. “No, you aren’t.” He struck out with a hard jab to the elf’s nose, followed by a forceful left cross to his temple. The elf took the blows and responded with a strong kick to Talon’s left knee. Talon buckled only slightly before catching his balance and stepping back to dodge a second kick.

  The elf jumped back and unleashed a magical blast that knocked Talon into the wall of the building behind him. Talon gasped for breath and rolled to his side. He was defenseless. He had nothing on him, not even the dinner knife from Jahre’s room. He knew there was no way for him to fight against a magic wielding warrior with his bare hands. He held his arms up and nodded.

  “Alright,” he coughed. “”You caught me, I surrender.”

  The elf held his scimitar at the ready and kept his left palm facing Talon. “Try to escape and the next blast will rip you in half.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Talon agreed. “But let me ask you one question before you take me in.”

  “Why should I?” the elf spat back. “Turn around, keep your knees on the ground and place your hands on the back of your head. I will be asking you the questions.”

  Talon shrugged and slowly turned with his knees firmly on the cobblestone. He noticed a group of passersby had stopped and were pointing at him. He winked at them as he placed his hands on his head.

  “How many gas pipes run through the Council Hall?” Talon asked.

  “Keep your mouth closed you…” the elf stopped midsentence. “Wait, what did you say?”

  Talon turned to look over his shoulder. “How many gas pipes run through the Council Hall?” He grinned wryly as the elf took a half step back and glanced behind him in the direction of the Council Hall. “Did you tamper with the Council Hall?”

  Talon shrugged and turned around.

  “Answer me!” The elf rushed forward and slammed his fist into the back of Talon’s skull. Talon went down hard, face first, onto the street. “What have you done?” the elf roared.

  Talon thrust his heel up to connect with the elf’s groin. Then he flipped over and lashed out with another kick that caught the elf’s sword arm and flipped it in front of his body. Talon jumped to his feet and barreled into the elf, taking him down to the ground. He bit the elf’s pointy ear and tore a hunk of flesh off.

  “Gah!” the elf howled. He punched Talon in the side and then rolled out from under him, clutching his ear. They both jumped up to their feet. Talon sent the elf flying with a powerful kick to his sternum. The elf crumpled against the stone wall and fumbled his scimitar.

  Talon glanced over his shoulder to see a few male elves rushing toward him. He ran for the Kruk’s scimitar and scooped it up. He held the tip to the elf’s throat and warned the would-be do-gooders off with a wave. “No closer, or he dies!” Talon promised.

  The elves stopped for a moment and glanced at each other.

  “He’ll kill me anyway,” the guard huffed. “Take him down.”

  The others started advancing again. A loud thunderous boom shook the ground and thrust everyone to the ground. Talon rolled as he collided with the wall and pushed off with his feet to launch into a somersault. The elves all shouted amongst themselves trying to understand what was happening, but Talon was fully aware of what it was.

  Jahre’s life had finally come to an end.

  Another explosion ripped through the a
ir, followed a couple of seconds later by another. The ground itself heaved and rolled as a series of deafening blasts tore through Medlas. Talon dropped the scimitar and ran as quickly and as steadily as he could for the main gate.

  A flare of fire and smoke caught his eye when he emerged from the side street. The great, green cupola was sliding from its perch on the Council Hall as the building crumbled amidst multiple explosions. Stone and debris fell from the sky with a vengeance, pelting onlookers and dropping them to the ground. Talon could hear their shrieking cries between explosions as fireballs continued to burst through other sections of the once grand building.

  “So much for safety measures,” Talon grumbled. A nearby lamppost erupted in flame and the metal pole launched into the air trailing fire and smoke beneath as though it were a fiery arrow from the ground itself. Talon sprinted faster now, jumping over several elves who stumbled on the quaking ground.

  Throngs of elves and humans poured out from buildings everywhere. They each fought the crowds, clawing and kicking to get ahead of the person next to them as they all ran for the main gate. Talon knew it would be hard to avoid being trampled in the press, but at least the guards at the gate would likely keep the gates open. Another street lamp erupted in flame, catching a nearby elf and lighting his cloak aflame. He shrieked and wheeled out of his burning clothes only to be knocked to the ground by the people coming after him.

  The ground buckled in front of Talon and sent a score of people to their bellies as the road split and ripped apart. Talon managed to vault the widening gap as the cobblestone fell away and pulled several people into the sewer beneath the street. A street lamp off to his left glowed red and started to bend at the base. The top of the lamp swayed down, and then rotated around to point toward the street. Talon stopped running and dove to his right an instant before the lamp’s base erupted and sent the metal pole whirling end over end through the panicked crowd.

  Miraculously, the nimble elves all managed to avoid the flaming lamp until it blasted into a stone wall on the opposite side of the street. Talon jumped up and fought off a few people that were already stepping on him as the mass exodus pushed on toward the gate. No more street lamps exploded, but flames continued to puff through the sewer grates in the street as he ran on.