“Perhaps we can implement a compromise,” Laegon suggested merrily. “I will pack more tarts if the two of you promise not to steal from one another’s rations.”
Silwen eyed the Guardian suspiciously, waiting until Brégen finally nodded in agreement. «Fair enough, I suppose,» he replied begrudgingly.
“Very good!” Laegon exclaimed with a grin. He was pleased that, at least for the time being, peace had been restored. “Now, we must get moving. We cannot delay any longer.”
He directed his attention to Irewen. “We must set as fast a pace as possible. I do not want to be anywhere near the vicinity of this cave when the Drulaack arrive. Though they cannot track you the same as Elthad, due to the marks in the snow, they will be able to follow our progress just as easily. We are now in a race. We cannot risk battling them in the open. We must make it to the safety of Silverden before they close whatever gap now separates us.”
“I understand,” Irewen responded. Neither of them had slept for over twenty-four hours. Though the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll on her, it seemed to not have the slightest effect on the elf.
“Do you think you can ride on your own?”
She shook her head. “Not at the pace and duration required.”
“Then you will ride with me,” Laegon answered immediately, waving his hand to stop her protest. “There will be no argument. Silwen is more than capable of carrying the both of us. Brégen will lead Nythrandiel until you are able to ride on your own.”
She acquiesced, knowing there really was no other option. Laegon secured Nythrandiel’s lead to Brégen before helping her onto Silwen’s back.
As if performing a well-rehearsed routine, Silevethiel and Brégen immediately shot to the northwest, Nythrandiel closely following the large golden lion.
“Naralé, Silwen!” Laegon shouted as he kicked the mare’s sides. She obediently lurched forward, galloping after the retreating Guardians.
Irewen closed her eyes against the biting wind. Give me strength, she pleaded. Concentrating on the warmth of Laegon’s chest pressed tightly against her back, she willed herself to push away her exhaustion. Please. Do not let me fail.
Irewen sighed with relief as she sipped the broth Laegon had warmed for her over the fire. They had traveled at a full gallop for longer than she cared to remember. Darkness had already descended upon the land when they finally stopped to allow everyone, especially Silwen, some time to rest. Irewen had been worried for the mare, yet Laegon’s words proved true. The horse had moved as though she was carrying the added weight of a mere feather. Silwen had galloped through the deep snow with surprising lightness, angling between the trees with extraordinary grace and precision.
“We have made good time,” Laegon said, handing her a piece of crújend. “You did well. We should be able to travel three or four more hours before we are forced to make camp for the night.”
“I am not the one who deserves to be congratulated,” she replied quietly, unable to mask her displeasure at Laegon’s decision to continue into the night. The thought of riding for one more minute, let alone one hour, was more than she could bear. “Our progress was no doing of mine. Without Silwen’s exceptional speed and stamina, the Drulaack would have already caught us by now.”
“You did what was required of you,” Laegon insisted. “You fought your exhaustion and moved in tune with Silwen’s movements, as well as mine. Without that, our progress would have been greatly hindered. All six of us are a team, Irewen. No one is more important than the other. Each one of our contributions, no matter how small and insignificant it may seem, is absolutely vital to our success. Never belittle your influence over this fellowship. For the moment you do, we will fail.”
Silevethiel came to sit next to the princess, her white fur blending in perfectly against the snow. «Laegon is right, Protector. Though you may think otherwise, your accomplishment today was greater than that of all the rest of us combined, the horses included. We are all veterans. We are trained to undergo such strenuous demands. We do things of this nature on a regular basis. It is expected of us. To perform any differently would have been a disgrace to you, to us, and to the elven people.
«You, however, have never come close to experiencing such a rigorous journey. I know that at the moment, your sore muscles are attesting to that fact. Despite your pain and fatigue, you pushed your inexperience aside and did what was required to ensure the rest of us were able to perform the way we needed.
«The future of this world is teetering upon the edge of a knife, Irewen. By accepting this task, you are the one with the power to sway the balance one way or the other. Each decision you make has the power to hurl these lands towards freedom or plunge them into the darkness. Nothing you say or do should ever be taken lightly, least of all by you. We are all here to help you. Without support, you will fail. But in the end, the true success of this mission lies with you. You must have conviction. You must have hope. You must have confidence. Above all, you must have the belief that what you are doing is right.»
“Thank you,” Irewen said quietly, as much to Laegon as to Silevethiel. “You are right.” Smiling, she looked from one to the other. “Both of you.”
13
THE SMALL COMPANY RODE FOR A LITTLE OVER TWO hours until Laegon’s exhaustion finally consumed him. His senses were waning, his reactions slowing, and his reasoning almost nonexistent. Irewen had succumbed to her fatigue long before. Her body bobbed heavily against his chest, and he struggled to keep both of them upright.
Sensing his difficulty, Silwen automatically slowed to a trot. Grateful the mare was so attuned to his needs, Laegon immediately matched the steed’s pace. He was about to call the two Guardians to a halt, when Brégen’s voice suddenly boomed through his mind.
«Laegon, I have received word from Drell. There has been a...situation.»
The haze suddenly vanished from Laegon’s mind. «What has happened?»
«They have arrived at the Millérn tower. The scene is quite dire, indeed.»
Laegon’s patience was wearing thin. Obviously reluctant to share the news, the Guardian made no move to continue with his explanation. «Well?» the elf pressed. «What did they discover? Were they able to assist Perendin in warning the sentries?»
«No, Laegon,» Brégen answered slowly, his voice heavily laden with sorrow and misery. «I am afraid all three of them arrived too late to be of any assistance to those already stationed at the Millérn tower.»
Laegon’s stomach turned when the meaning of Brégen’s words finally registered in his mind. There had been sixteen of Mistwood’s finest archers stationed at the tower. All of them were dead
He brought Silwen to a halt. Placing his hand over his heart, he lowered his head in respect for his lost kin. “Neryn la pün, mi frélánen,” Laegon whispered. A tear ran down his cheek, its warmth immediately dissipating into the frigid winter air the moment it touched his skin.
«Tell me what happened.»
«Perendin was the first to arrive at the site. He immediately sensed something was amiss. An eerie silence had descended upon the land. The air was uncannily still, like the quiet before a storm. A dark shadow loomed in his mind.
«He dismounted and hid his horse amidst a dense cluster of trees before slowly making his way closer to the tower, careful not to make even the slightest sound. Being sure to remain safely out of sight, Perendin carefully studied the watchtower. He knew something was wrong, but he could not figure out what it was. Then suddenly it hit him. The flag billowing in the crisp winter breeze was not that of the elves of Mistwood. Instead of a dark shade of evergreen bearing a silver crown of fir branches encircling a sparkling white dove, the flag Perendin saw was pure black.»
«What was the insignia?» Laegon asked, not certain he actually wanted to know.
Brégen waited a few moments before continuing, his deep voice barely above a whisper. «The bright crimson emblem was of a human heart, dripping blood, and pierced by a golden dag
ger.»
Bile rose in the prince’s throat. “I suppose we now know why King Donríel’s heart was ripped from his chest,” he whispered. Feeling Irewen move, he instantly regretted his decision to speak aloud. Laegon held his breath as she groaned, snuggling closer against his chest before once again falling still. He breathed a sigh of relief. She was just stirring in her sleep.
«Aye,» Brégen and answered quietly. «Silevethiel suggests you do not share this detail with Irewen, at least for the time being. And I agree. In spite of her toughness, her father’s death still weighs heavily on her heart. This is not the time to reopen any areas of the wound which may have already begun to heal.»
«I agree. It solves the mystery of the manner of the king’s death, but in reference to our quest, it is a rather unimportant detail. I do not intend to force it upon her. She will learn of it when the time is right.»
Brégen nodded his head solemnly.
«What is the current state of the tower, and of our three friends?»
«As you would expect, Perendin waited until Halthed and Drell arrived. They too sensed something was amiss and joined the Culthen at his place of hiding. Afraid to use their Sight, lest they would draw unwanted attention to themselves, they waited, observing the tower for any signs of movement. After nearly five hours of seeing hardly any activity, they agreed Millérn was not heavily manned.
«Deciding it would be best to act before any of the Drulaack’s reinforcements arrived, they separated, each attacking from a different direction. Luckily their suspicions proved true. Only five of the enemy remained at the tower. Our friends had the advantage of surprise, but the Drulaack quickly recovered. The fight lingered on, with neither side finding an advantage of the other, until Drell honed in on the Drulaack’s leader. Once he fell, the battle swiftly took a turn to our friends’ favor. The four remaining enemy were quickly killed.
«Perendin suffered several injuries, though none of them were considerable or life threatening. Halthed treated him and he is doing well. For now, we have regained control of the watchtower and can only hope our reinforcements arrive before the enemy’s.
«The good news, if you can call it that, is that the bodies of our men, along with those of the enemy our archers managed to kill, had been dead for almost a week. The Drulaack who took control of Millérn were of the first group sent by Elthad. As far as the others can tell, the second party of Drulaack has yet to cross our borders. We have a significant lead.»
Laegon breathed a sigh of relief. «That is indeed good to hear. In light of everything that has happened, it is news I will gladly take. We will stop for the night, but I still wish to continue at this pace for the remainder of the journey. None of us can afford to become too comfortable with whatever small advantage we might currently have, for it can be stolen away from us in the blink of an eye.»
«Agreed.» Brégen replied, watching Laegon intently as the elf dismounted.
The prince carefully lowered Irewen from Silwen’s back. Holding her close to him, he carried her to a small patch of ground beneath a large tree that had somehow miraculously remained free of snow. He laid her on the frozen earth and quickly covered her with both their blankets, as well as his cloak.
Snoring softly, the princess remained lost in her dreams as Silevethiel snuggled next to her, allowing the warmth of her soft fur to drive away the winter chill.
«I suppose I will have to do the same for you,» Brégen observed while Laegon tended to the horses, making sure they were well fed and watered.
«If you want me to live through the night,» the elf replied weakly, «then yes. Even if we could risk lighting a fire, I would not have the energy to start one.»
«Lay next to Irewen, Protector,» Brégen ordered gently, waiting for the prince to do as he was told.
Settling next to the princess, Laegon sighed with pleasure. The Guardian pressed his body against his and warmth slowly returned to his bones. «Thank you,» he murmured.
«You know I would do anything for you, Laegon,» Brégen responded, feeling the elf bury his hands in his fur. «Even if it means transforming into a living blanket.»
Despite his exhaustion, a weak smile spread across Laegon’s lips. «And I you.»
Brégen purred appreciatively, feeling the elf drift to sleep. «Goodnight, my friend. Sleep well.»
14
LAEGON WOKE BEFORE FIRST LIGHT, REFRESHED AND ready to begin another day of grueling travel. He stretched, alleviating his muscles from some of the stiffness, when he realized that both of the Guardians were huddled on either side of Irewen.
Worried, he scrambled to his feet and ran to Irewen’s side. “Brégen, quel é dna?” His voice was anxious. “Quel ga lüllerden?”
The Guardian looked up from the princess. «I do not know,» he replied. The concern in his unusual eyes penetrated into Laegon’s soul. «I woke, sensing Silevethiel’s agitation. She had felt Irewen’s presence gradually begin to slip away from her. When Irewen failed to answer, her concern transformed into outright hysteria.»
Brégen’s words sent a shock-wave of emotions through Laegon’s body. “What!” the elf screamed. He was confused, furious, stupefied. But above all, he was frightened.
Irewen’s skin, normally light and fair, was so pale that it almost looked white. Her breaths were extremely shallow and so far apart he found himself counting the seconds after each exhale, praying it hadn’t been her last.
“This cannot be happening,” he whispered in disbelief. He touched her cheek. His heart nearly stopped. Her skin felt cold to his touch. “No, Irewen!” His voice cracked, tears pooling in his eyes. “No! Do not leave me!”
«Laegon, please calm down. Losing control of your emotions will do Irewen no good. Silevethiel believes she has discovered the problem and has come up with a solution, but we are not strong enough to do it on our own. We need your help, and we need your strength.»
Taking a deep breath, Laegon regained control of his emotions. “Tell me what to do,” he replied calmly.
«Silevethiel believes Elthad is taking advantage of his connection to Irewen and is opening up her soul to an evil spirit against her will.»
The Guardian paused to make sure Laegon remained composed before continuing. «She is resisting, but will not last much longer. Soon, she will lose the battle and will become a Drulaack. She will be our enemy.»
“Mi chül,” Laegon whispered, barely able to form the words.
«We have tried many different shields,» Brégen explained, «but none of them have been successful. The only way to save her is for Silevethiel to enter her mind and face the spirit directly. We both know what it was like when you were caught off guard by this horrendous evil. We need to provide her with full protection against this demon. It will not be an easy fight.»
Without a word, Laegon nodded. Calling upon his Sight, he transferred it to Silevethiel. His shields combined with those Brégen had already placed, fortifying the Dame against the harrowing evil that awaited her the moment she entered Irewen’s mind and opened her own to the spirit.
Despite their protections, Laegon felt Silevethiel jolt when the connection was made. Her large body trembled violently as she fought the spirit, doing what she could to drive it away from Irewen’s exposed soul. A shocking roar erupted from her throat. She threw her head back in a rage, her ears pressed tightly against her head. Froth formed at the corners of her mouth. Her vibrant blue irises disappeared completely beneath her bottom eyelid, leaving only the white of her eyes visible.
Laegon transferred every ounce of his strength to the Dame. He gritted his teeth in concentration, ignoring the stinging as drops of sweat fell into his eyes. He felt Silevethiel’s strength diminishing. Screaming inwardly, he mustered the energy to increase the wards protecting the lioness from the evil. Pain wracked his body. Grunting from the strain, he did his best to ignore the spasms ravaging his muscles. His breaths became short and quick. Just as he knew he could not last a second longer, Irewen screamed S
ilevethiel’s name.
Everything happened at once.
Irewen sat up. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she threw her arms around the Dame’s neck.
Silevethiel’s roar abruptly ended. She swayed slightly before collapsing to the ground.
Brégen sat heavily on the ground, panting laboriously while he tried to gather more strength to aid his fellow Guardian.
Laegon, unsure of anything save the fact that Silevethiel had succeeded, glanced at all three of his companions before he plummeted to the ground, falling into darkness.
•••
The tendrils of darkness shrouded his mind like the black clouds of a storm obstructing the land from every trace of sunlight. Terrified and alone amidst the suffocating nothingness, Laegon saw haunting images flash out of the blackness, destroying his very soul. He thrashed wildly against the evil, doing everything in his power to push away the disturbing visions. Endless time passed as he fought, his determination increasing with each savage stroke, until the images suddenly vanished. Everything fell silent about him.
He stood in the serene darkness, trying to decipher what had happened. He called frantically to his friends, hoping they would hear his desperate plea. But he remained alone in the abyss. What had led him to this foreign world where he now withered like berries left on the vine to shrivel beneath the scorching late summer sun?
With nothing to do and nowhere to go, Laegon waited; he quickly lost all sense of time and place. Memories flickered through his mind, taunting him with the familiarity of a world he no longer expected to see. One by one, his friends appeared before him. Running towards them, he called their names in unmitigated joy and relief, only to find they had been nothing more than a mirage.
Hopelessness and despair filled his heart. He lost the ability to distinguish reality from fantasy. He was in a world that seemingly had no boundaries or restrictions, yet he felt trapped. He could run for an entire lifetime and end exactly where he had started. His life had no direction. No purpose. No meaning.
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