Yan put a finger to his lips and sank deeper into Tarthur’s arms. “It’s all over now. I’m very tired.”
Tarthur relaxed and held Yan. His quest was accomplished. He had waited for this day for so many cold years. The others were overcome with relief that, despite their errors, everything had come out right in the end.
It was then that Corizaz attacked.
***********************
Corizaz had been fuming as he watched the plan that he had built up so carefully fall down around his ears. He had been so sure Alahim was the One! Yet, all could be made right if he could only steal the Air Feather from the boy. It would be much harder now that he couldn’t control the One, but One or not, he was still only a boy.
The unexpected appearance of the shapeshifter had caused Corizaz to pause before he rushed in headlong, however. While he might have taken Tarthur by himself, he had heard of this other wizard before. He must use the element of surprise to his maximum advantage.
When they embraced and let their guard down, Corizaz had launched twin attacks. He sent a sheet of fire lancing out for Tarthur and Yan, while sprinting towards Uvit, with eyes fixed on the boy.
“Throw me the Air Feather,” he commanded.
Lily called out to Tarthur, and that was probably the only thing that saved him. Tarthur spun and hit the ground, shielding Yan’s body. “I’ve got his flank!” Yan whispered, before turning silver and vanishing in the wind, leaving Tarthur to hit the ground with a thud. Tarthur rolled, and returned his own streak of fire, which Corizaz ducked, catching a glancing blow on his shoulder.
Corizaz stared into Uvit’s eyes, forcing his will in. He was met with iron resistance.
Uvit did not budge, but calmly stared back at Corizaz, and it was the wizard’s turn to be shocked. The things this boy had seen! Corizaz immediately knew he had no power over him. Uvit stepped back, keeping as much distance between himself and Corizaz as possible.
A huge dragon grew out of the grass in front of Corizaz, threatening to swallow him up. Corizaz blasted the dragon with a burst of green fire, and rolled out of the way of its massive jaws.
This battle was over. There was no way he could win. Any faint hope he might have had vanished as he saw Zelin and the Elf King Dalin come into the clearing out of the corner of his eye. Frustrated, Corizaz turned and tore off towards his horse.
***********************
Zelin gingerly stepped down from his wagon and Dalin helped him through the brush. Yan transformed back to the form he was in when Tarthur had first met him, the form of the wizened magician. Zelin hobbled over to see him. “Welcome back, my friend.”
Yan rotated his hand, staring in wonder at each finger that bent upon command. He flexed the small joints, then fanned his fingers back and forth and finally made a fist. “I have a body again!”
Zelin looked from Yan to Uvit, then to Alahim, and then back to Uvit. He cast a confused look at Tarthur and raised his eyebrows.
Tarthur looked down at his feet. He was ashamed to admit how close he had come to making a mistake for which he would never have been able to forgive himself. “Alahim was not the One.”
Zelin was lost. “But…the one that was lost…. by his name shall he save him…”
Tarthur needed only one word. “Tivu.”
Yvonne held Alahim tighter, and the boy didn’t move. Neither spoke the shocking thought that overwhelmed them. Alahim had come only a few meters away from a fate worse than death.
Zelin shook his head, sending his beard swaying from side to side. “How could we have been so wrong….”
Uvit coughed. “Perhaps you want my side of the story?”
Everyone turned to him as if seeing him for the first time. “Even since the first time we met him on the bridge, I always felt that Tivu was talking to me more than the others. I was surprised when everyone said Alahim was the One, but I didn’t say anything because I thought that you all knew something I didn’t. After he spoke to us in the wind, he whispered more private instructions to me in my ear. It was then that I knew for sure. I was waiting to tell you until we were at the Wall, but when Alahim took off, I had to follow him.”
“Come to think of it, Tivu never mentioned the One by name,” Lily said. “At least, I don’t ever remember him doing so.”
“By the way he talked to me, he assumed that you all knew it was me,” Uvit said softly. “He assumed that was why you had brought me. Everything would have worked out fine if Alahim hadn’t taken off.”
All eyes turned to him now, but the question was not asked. “I don’t know why I left,” Alahim said guiltily. “It was just something I felt…I knew inside that it was what I had to do, and that I had to do it right away.”
“It’s probably my fault.” Tarthur admitted. “I was so sure that the prophecy pointed to Alahim, that I put too much pressure on the boy.”
“I just wanted to be a hero like you,” Alahim said, tears coming to his eyes. Yvonne rocked him back and forth. The events of the past few hours overcame his usual stoicism.
Yan knelt next to him and dried the boy’s tears with a wipe of his hand. “All is well that ends well. Even though you didn’t end up filling the role that you prepared for, I am back and the Air Feather is ours. For what you’ve done, you’ll always be a hero to me.”
Zelin took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Now, there is one important question that I must know. Uvit, who is your father?”
Uvit shook his head. For some reason, he could not reveal what he had seen in the Wall. It seemed too sacred. Besides, he was not ready yet. “My mom raised me. I barely knew him, although sometimes when I was younger he would come to visit. He never stayed for long.”
Their curious faces begged for an explanation. He released the only other fact that he had. “His name was Qeunten.”
Yvonne gave a start at the name. “Qeunten…I knew him. He started the Guild of Thieves twenty years ago. Secretive man…kept to himself mostly. I barely saw him, he was in and out so much. But now that you mention it…I can see a hint of resemblance.”
Zelin shrugged, trying to feign disinterest. “Tarthur, this is something you and Yan must search out.”
Tarthur eyed his teacher suspiciously. “Will you not search also?”
Zelin considered his request for only a second. “No, Tarthur. For I have somewhere else to go and something very difficult to say. It is time for me to say farewell.”
Tarthur was shocked. “What? For how long? Where are you going?”
“I am going where none of you may yet follow.” He looked at Uvit “With the possible exception of the One…I will not meet any of you again until your deaths.”
Tarthur was pacing around frantically. This couldn’t be happening. “But we need you! We’re finally all together again.”
“No, Tarthur. You no longer need me. I am so old and weak now. I am barely a shell of my former self. Yan can protect the world now.” He faced the shapeshifter. “It’s a heavy burden, and I am sorry that I must lay it at your feet, but you will not be alone. Those here who stand with you have proven their worth many times over. When you combine your determination and willingness to sacrifice with Tarthur’s passion, Uvit’s newfound wisdom, and Derlin’s sword I’m sure that there is no one who will pose a threat to you. I will still be at the Council of Gurus should you need my advice.”
Tarthur wasn’t about to be convinced. “But why now? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier…but I had to be sure Yan was restored before I left. Tarthur, my time is up. I have seen four hundred years take their course on this land, and I am tired. I am so very, very tired. One can only press on for so long before the inevitable dawns. When Uvit pierced the Wall, he weakened it for a few minutes. If one has sufficient determination, one may pass through, although the way back is barred.”
Tarthur was about to protest again, but as he looked at Zelin, as he fully took in the man from his tattered robes to
his tired smile, he realized that he didn’t have any right to ask Zelin to remain longer. Tarthur knew living required sacrifice, and Zelin had lived longer than any of them. Zelin had given more than any man alive to the service of protecting the realm. “Stay with us just a few more minutes,” Tarthur pleaded.
“I dare not,” Zelin responded. “I do not know how long the Wall will be open. If the worst should happen, you must promptly slay me. It shouldn’t take much to finish off a tired old man.”
No one else tried to stop him—it was as if they were all frozen in the moment. “Give my regards to Addyean,” Zelin said, hitching up his belt and clasping his staff firmly in hand. “I should like to have seen him one last time before I left, but I will await him on the other side. For there, there shall be no farewells, only joy that does not end.”
With those simple words the great wizard Zelin hobbled up to the Wall of Glass and passed through, leaving forever the Lands of Daranor and ending the life of one of the staunchest spell-casters ever to take up a staff in service of the fight against evil.
***********************
She crouched behind a tree, watching the old wizard fade into the rainbow Wall. Something about that Wall terrorized her, but she could not remember what. The Wall was important to her past. She did not understand how the wizard could simply walk through it. It seemed like something should happen to him, although she did not want anything bad to happen to him, or the others. She was gradually freeing herself from Corizaz’s hold, but rather than returning to her own thinking, she was drawing only a blank. She had to reach the one who called out to her. Only he could help her. She knew it without knowing how she knew or how he could help her..
The morning sun was full now, warming her back. A gentle breeze sifted through the trees, stirring leaves and pushing her locks over her shoulders. She brushed her hair back with a flick of her wrist.
A searing pain gripped her shoulder as she felt the intrusion and retreated inside of herself as far as she could. Corizaz’s scaly, putrid hand gripped her from behind. The touch that had always been so calming to her was now repugnant. She struggled, trying to get away but he held fast, claws digging into her. There was no resisting now. His mind overwhelmed her, forcing itself in and destroying everything that she had worked hard to guard. She no longer noticed the feel of the sun nor the caress of the breeze.
“You betrayed me! No please, master You betrayed me! After all I did for you. please…you must understand, I had to know….
It was all over once he had touched her. She might have resisted him had she been able to stay far away, but she now stood no chance. He pulled his hand away and stepped back to survey his work.
Kitrina bore no resemblance to the woman who had been searching for herself. The woman that stood now was his assassin, a perfect killing machine.
His orders were simple. If she could gain the feather, he would take her back. Otherwise, she was to kill as many as possible, and then kill herself before being taken prisoner.
Corizaz made sure that her story ended here.
***********************
Tarthur’s mind was a blur. There were so many thoughts jostling for position that he couldn’t concentrate on any one of them. The rational part of his mind told him that he should be phenomenally happy and relieved at the same time. Yan was back, Alahim was safe, and they had gained the Air Feather.
They had accomplished everything they set out to do.
He had never imagined that they could lose Zelin. Zelin had been a staple to the world, the deep well that people had been drawing from for so long. And now he was gone, fading from the world as quickly as a dream flees the waking mind. He had not worried about losing Zelin because he never believed Zelin could be lost. No man could live forever—but if he lived long enough, he risked other people believing that he could. Tarthur felt oddly alone, not at all how he imagined he would feel with Yan restored.
Yan was standing firmly, legs rooted to the porous morning earth. It was almost as if the weight of Zelin’s charge was weighing him down. His mouth was drawn and thin, narrow cheeks sloped downward from gaunt, haunted eyes. He blinked, and seemed to come back to reality. He tested his arms and legs, swinging them about and then jumping. The Minidragon on his shoulder flapped its wings with a long slow motion that flattened the cloth of Yan’s outfit against his back, revealing the cut shape of his physique underneath.
Yan looked at Alahim and then his eyes shifted sideways to Yvonne. His brow furrowed as if he was performing some calculations in his head but then relaxed as he gave up and simply asked Tarthur his question. “How long has it been?”
“Almost fifteen years,” Tarthur answered, giving Yan time to digest his words. “Too long.”
“It is but a heartbeat compared to the three hundred years I was lost in Marhyn’s dungeons.” A shudder passed through his body as he remembered the experience.
Tarthur assumed that Yan must have so many questions, and he wondered where the old wizard would start. As Tarthur expected, Yan asked his most important question first. “Is she…?”
“Gone.” Tarthur said, the old battle-light shinning in his eyes. “And Darhyn too. The world goes about its way and each man has his own demons to contend with, but with the exception of the one who controls the dark elf, evil is not organized.”
Tarthur could see the lines of relief spread through Yan’s face even through his mask.
Uvit smiled. “Zelin would not have left if it were not so.”
“What about the wizard controlling Kitrina?” Dalin asked.
“Nothing more than a wanna-be dark lord,” Tarthur answered. “He only seems strong in the void left by the passing of Darhyn. We’ll hunt this pretender down and root out his evil.”
“Where to now?” Yan asked. “To King Gar—” he looked his question in Tarthur’s direction and Tarthur nodded. “King Garkin still reigns, then. We must take the Air Feather to him. Finally the four elemental powers can be used for the good of the kingdom.”
Tarthur smiled. The last time the elemental powers had been united was so far back in history that Tarthur wondered if the world then bore any resemblance to the world he lived in now. Although politics, technology, and even the very shape of the land might be different, human nature was still the same. That would make the worlds quite similar indeed. “There is a king among us right now,” Tarthur added, shifting his eyes off to the right in Dalin’s direction.
Yan dropped to one knee and the Minidragon on his shoulder bowed his head in deference as well.
Kitrina didn’t miss her opportunity to attack.
Everyone’s weapons were sheathed.
She leapt into the clearing, snapping several branches that became entangled in her already damaged cloak. She rushed towards Uvit, who turned and saw her coming as if in slow motion. He was rooted to the spot as the dark elf drew her sword with a rasping grate upon the scabbard. There was a blind rage in her eyes as she surged forward, but Uvit was paralyzed with fear at the sudden attack. She was only two steps away from him.
Kitrina had never met anyone faster than her. She had never met Ninja Yan.
In a blur of speed he was in front of her, arm changing to steel as he blocked her strike. A sword grew out of his hand even as a hand grew out of his elbow, the rest of his body oozing and shifting to replace lost matter as a slightly shorter Yan, now armed with a sword, faced Kitrina.
The Ninja Yan facing her was only a distraction, however.
The dragon had lifted off as soon as Ninja Yan had started to move, hovering in the air and screaming his battle cry. He clicked his teeth and sent a sheet of fire down on Kitrina.
“NO!” Dalin had started diving as soon as he heard the dragon’s cry. Muscles surging, he shot towards Kitrina and dove on top of her, fire burning through his tunic and touching skin. Dalin grabbed her wrists and rolled, quenching the fire before it burned his back completely.
Kitrina struggled to bring her sword down, gru
nting as her body became taunt. Dalin grabbed her sword hand with both of his hands and twisted her wrist, forcing the weapon to fall from her grasp. As it hit the ground, she unsheathed her dagger in the other hand and thrust the point into her chest.
The elf king released his hold on her wrist and seized the blade of the dagger with both hands, crying out as he stopped the point from running though. She possessed an unnatural strength, and it was all Dalin could do to stop her. He gripped the blade tighter, wincing in pain as blood oozed through the fingers of his white-knuckled hands.
“No, Kitrina!” he pleaded with her, but her eyes were cold and hard. “Please, it’s me! I can help you.”
The point was driving slowly deeper, their blood mixing freely. A few drops fell on the mark on Kitrina’s forearm.
She stopped struggling and fell back. Dalin dropped the dagger and caught her before she hit the ground. She sat there, suddenly looking like she had just woken up. She looked at Dalin, and then pointed to her forearm.
“Why yes, of course it is.” She said it as if suddenly she had figured out the answer to a very simple riddle.
“It is what?” Dalin asked.
“A map.”
Tarthur looked at the mark on her forearm and quickly traced it in the air while murmuring “Reqodet, Renert, Mionwe.” He had no scrolls on him, but the spell he cast would write the mark on one of the enchanted scrolls back in the wagon. After the affair with the Water Orb, Tarthur was careful to immediately record anything that seemed important.
“A map to where?” Dalin asked, curiosity competing with exhilaration to be his foremost feeling.
Kitrina did not answer. In fact, she only stared at him blankly. Tarthur felt a surge of magergy go out from her body, and he knew what had happened. He could not bring himself to tell Dalin.
Dalin kept asking her questions, frantically trying to get her to respond. Kitrina only sat there, listless and mute.
“Perhaps…” The words came painfully to Tarthur. He wished Zelin were still there to deliver the news. “Perhaps we should all give Dalin a few minutes of privacy,” he finally ended up blurting out. Everyone stepped back and out of the clearing except Tarthur.
Lands of Daranor: Book 02 - ProphecyQuest Page 19