Halfstone: A Tale of the Narathlands

by Daniel White

  Jon fixed his attention upon the entrance way. The door was ajar. Monsters lurked within the walls beyond, those willing to take the life of their own young. There was no pity to be felt for any of them.

  He seized Devéna’s arm and held her steady. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded.

  “All right, we do this as one.”

  They stood in a line, staffs raised in front of them, and marched forth. A powerful warding enchantment attempted to restrict passage but it would not withstand them. The vigour of their storm in unison overcame it. They proceeded into the vestibule, which was a mess. Parchment and scrolls scattered the floor. Blood was spattered on the flame-lit walls. The smell of death tainted the air.

  Out of nowhere a streak of flame collided with their warding wall, enveloping it for a second before burning out. Devéna whirled her staff and stone roofing collapsed down upon the attacker—a burly wielder in an ill-lit corner. The life was crushed from him.

  From inner passages the sounds of alarm broke out—shouting, scuffling.

  “Come on!” called Jon. There was no longer any call for discretion.

  They emerged into the main hallway. About ten opponents stood in their path.

  “Conflagration!” he bellowed.

  Together, they wielded a rampant flame and sent it flooding forward. It engulfed the hallway like a broken wave. There were cries as it smothered bodies. Not all were overcome. Counter attacks came as ice, fire and arrows. The trio’s line was broken as they fought to evade. To his right, Jon saw Frade’s staff split apart and his robes catch alight. He made to help but suddenly found his own staff torn from his grasp. An overwhelming power knocked him off his feet. He was flung through the air and collapsed at the foot of the stairs at the far end of the hallway. Devéna and Frade landed by him. Gravity held their bodies against the ground. Jon peered up. At the top of the stairs stood a figure clad in leather boots and deep purple robes. As it began to trudge down toward Jon, the man’s odious face came into view. It was Malath Jayther. Jon urgently tried to find his feet but was incapable of doing so.

  Malath watched him with a pretentious smirk.

  “Give in, old fool,” he demanded. “Before me your head belongs against the ground. I am your lord, returned to power and glory.”

  Jon snorted. “Glory? You know nothing of it, Malath. Look around you, do you see any glory here?”

  Malath’s gaze skimmed the hall then set on him again.

  “Do I know you, wielder?” he asked, frowning. “Yes, I recall now—you were a member of the Synod.”

  “Indeed I was,” professed Jon.

  “And were you not at Darkna the day…” Malath’s words trailed away.

  “The day you lost your storm?” Jon inserted viciously. “The day your futile attempt to gain the Shard of Heart’s Storm failed? Yes, yes I was.”

  Two more figures appeared behind Malath. One Jon recognised as Selayna, young as ever. The other was a stout wielder with a rough and dark look who was only vaguely familiar.

  “What is happening?” asked Selayna, staring down at them with wild eyes.

  “Defiant ones,” Malath replied over his shoulder.

  The stout wielder was glaring at Jon.

  “You… I know you!” he cried. “You killed me!” He made toward Jon but Malath raised a hand.

  “Now, now, Dron. These timeworn wielders, I yet hope, will see reason and submit. They will bear witness to the cleansing tomorrow. If, then, they still refuse to bow before me, you may have reprisal.”

  Dron stepped back. He was visibly enraged but would not dare challenge his master. Jon recognised him now. He had been at Darkna all those years ago. The witless swine had fallen at his very own hand.

  “You know we will never surrender, Jayther,” cried Devéna from where she lay.

  Malath sighed. “Many of your friends have already, Devéna. I see no reason why you need be more foolish than them. After all, you are a wise member of the Synod, are you not?”

  “Wisdom—another thing you know nothing of,” Jon said through gritted teeth.

  The corner of Malath’s mouth twitched. “Bold words uttered from such a demeaning stature,” he sneered, then opened his arms. “But come, you may stand if you will.”

  Jon found he was now free to find his feet. He helped Devéna up, then Frade. Frade staggered a little. He sported burn wounds from the battle.

  “Let me heal you, my friend,” Jon said, holding him steady.

  “No,” Frade replied stubbornly. “I am capable.”

  Jon returned his attention to Malath, who watched them with a condescending smile still smeared across his face. The heartless wretch knew not of the haunting sorrows he had sown.

  “You are going to pay for this!” Jon yelled. “For everything!” He fought back tears of grief.

  Malath sighed again. “Please don’t think to try anything more. You will find yourself confined.” He drew a staff from his belt and tapped the moonstone tip.

  Jon put out a hand and felt a steadfast warding wall. “So you plan to keep us ensnared here like pests, do you?”

  “Oh, not right here. I’m sure I can find a more suitable side room in which to secure you.” Malath took a step toward Jon. “Know that I regret having to do this, but I must. You brought it upon yourselves.”

  Though he sounded sympathetic, Jon knew Malath’s words were as hollow as his soul. He made no response. There was little to be said now. They were defeated. Malath was more powerful than ever before. Truly, he hoped Aldrick would not come, that he was on his way south with the others. Any steps he took toward Malath were steps toward his doom.

  Before taking the three to a small, disorganised study, Malath revived a number of his fallen followers using his unearthly ability to flout death. The wielder’s ghostly souls materialised above their bodies before eagerly reclaiming them. Their hearts rekindled promptly. They rose, bewildered for a brief time, then fell to the floor again—kneeling before their lord and saviour. Jon watched, feeling both wonder and anguish. Nothing was achieved in coming here. This had been his decision and it failed dismally. He had failed everyone he ever cared for. Had he travelled directly to Darkna, he could have at least warned the Shard’s guardian of Malath’s forthcoming arrival. But no, instead he was here—paying the price for his foolishness.

  14

  THE CAVE

  The last of the fire’s embers glowed softly at the centre of its ashen bed. Kaal was snoring quietly against one of the nearby trees. Aldrick stood with his back to her, staring beyond their lofty trunks into the sleepy, moon-kissed surroundings. He seemed ill at ease. His fists were clenched.

  It was admirable that he was here, that he had not abandoned this quest. She liked that he cared, that he had burdened his shoulders with a heaviness he needn’t have taken on. He was one who sought to deal justice where it was deserved. He was one who could be relied upon, trusted. Being in his presence was calming. In past days, he had looked out for her and aided her equally as much as she had him. Of course, it was no secret that he had certain feelings for her. The funny thing was that it was no longer a well-kept secret that these feelings were shared. She had allowed him close to her, even sought comfort in him. She could not call these feelings familiar, however. Romance was not something a novice aera was advised to dabble in, let alone fall into. It wasn’t meant to happen, especially with one’s own wielder! She was to remain a loyal bodyguard and a watchful companion, nothing more. Now though, she desired to be with Aldrick in other, more intimate ways.

  She stood, keeping her travel blanket close to her shoulders, and went to his side.

  “Hello Télia.” He greeted her warmly, hiding his qualms.

  “Hi,” she replied.

  For a while the two of them just stood there, finding peace in each other’s presence.

  “I’m sorry. I never realised,” he began, but didn’t finish his sentence. He was looking upon her with those sincere eyes.
/>   It was the death of her parents he spoke of. No more had been said since she told him of their early passing at Fort Blackbed yesterday. She wanted to reply, but words felt an effort to utter. Instead she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, then smiled to herself, pleased that thoughts of her occupied his mind, among all else.

  “What do you think will become of us?” he asked after a moment of stillness.

  She didn’t want to think about it now.

  “Whatever is meant to,” she whispered.

  “I guess so.”

  When no more words came, they settled themselves down beside one another to rest until dawn. Tomorrow they would continue the search for a halfstone.

  The morning songs of many birds woke them. Flocks were congregated in the shelter of the canopy high above their camp. The air was cool and smelt of strawberry plants. Wild ones crept through the tangles of grass, some still bearing pink and white berries.

  They had arrived in the area at the fall of dusk yesterday and, so far, only managed a brief scout of the immediate surroundings in search of the cave. It was surely close by, though so too were numerous gullies and crevasses that could be hiding its entrance. So long as they were thorough, it was only a matter of time before they found it.

  “Perhaps we ought to split up,” Kaal suggested after a lean breakfast.

  This was a reasonable idea, she thought. “Yes, but do not stray further than your voice can reach. We haven’t the time to lose anyone.” Based on Sinin’s words, she estimated that today was the day Malath Jayther would make an attempt for the Shard of Heart’s Storm. From here, Darkna was at least a full day’s ride away. They could only pray that Malath would not be hasty to carry out his murderous ambitions.

  After seeing to their horses’ contentment, they each set off in a different direction. Kaal went downhill to search along the banks of a river; Aldrick toward a nearby gorge which they had espied yesterday. Télia ventured further up the mountain, hoping to find a vantage point to examine the area in the light of day.

  Here and there, great pillars of bedrock jutted from the ground, many overshadowing the surrounding trees. She chose one that offered stable footholds and climbed it to its crest. The view from the top was breathtaking. For leagues ahead of her the countryside was lower than she. Although morning mist blanketed much of it, the highest hilltops were left free to breathe. They appeared as islands in a calm, white ocean. Here, the world seemed at peace—an illusion she knew did not hold in the province of Galdrem. She returned her gaze upon the mountainside. In the distance, she could see Aldrick making his way into the jaws of the gorge. It looked to be a narrow and damp place. Her eyes followed its meandering walls into the mountains. It led from the base of a sheer limestone cliff. This was strange, for a stream trailed from the gorge’s mouth into the river below. Where had the water come from…? Underground! Aldrick was heading right for the cave! Excitement brewed in her. She clambered down and hurried to catch up with him—they would find the entrance together.

  Aldrick was well into the gorge when she reached him. His attention was occupied by a lively black fantail that flitted around in the air a short way ahead of him. He turned in alarm upon hearing her footsteps but smiled when he saw it was her.

  “It is showing me the way,” he said cheerfully, gesturing to the bird.

  “Yes, your path is true.”

  He looked a little surprised. “How do you know?”

  She brushed one boot through the water. “This stream comes from nowhere.”

  He nodded in understanding. “Ah… we’ll see about that.”

  They followed the gorge for a further few minutes until the cliff face loomed ahead of them. The gorge widened significantly at its base, allowing daylight in. Green ferns claimed the ground, taking advantage of both the light and the sediment-rich soil. Within these ferns, a number of deer and goat skeletons lay—likely the result of misplaced steps in ill weather. Somewhat ominously, they now adorned the opening of a vast, black void in the mountainside. As Télia had supposed, the stream flowed from within.

  “We’ve found it!” she cried delightedly.

  They spontaneously hugged one another. This felt like their first victory in a while.

  “Come on.” Aldrick entered the cave, igniting a flame above his palm to light the way. She followed. Something felt strange. Yet, it wasn’t strange at all; it was very familiar, only more intense. A wealth of storm dwelled within the darkness, somewhere far below them. It must be coming from halfstones!

  “Aldrick, watch your step,” she cautioned, noting that the ground beneath them was wet stone.

  The water was springing from a small crevice in one wall of the cave. Beyond it, a wide passage trailed downward, spiralling into the blackness. It had probably been carved by the water many years ago when it took a different course.

  Glow worms shone in the ceiling ahead of them, each one a distant star in a midnight sky.

  “I hope those aren’t the ‘stones’ my father mentioned,” Aldrick said, gazing up at them.

  She shook her head. “No. There are halfstones here. I feel them.”

  “Look!” Aldrick pointed up at the worms, at something else which glowed faintly green amongst them. It was a small fragment of halfstone.

  She couldn’t help but squeal. “Yes!”

  Aldrick peered around. “I see no pieces of a decent size.”

  “Well, it has been twenty years since your father was here. The obvious ones may have since been snatched by adventurers or wandering hunters.”

  “We’ll have to go further in.” Aldrick stepped forward.

  “Careful….”

  He slipped. Télia watched in horror as his head struck stone and his body became limp. He began to slide away from her. She launched herself forward and grabbed his leg. Now she was being pulled with him. It was pitch black. His flame had died. Frantically she searched for something to grab hold of and save them both. Her arm struck a jutting boulder and she latched on to it. In the same moment the ground beneath Aldrick’s body disappeared. Now he was hanging, saved from falling only by her grasp.

  “Aldrick, wake up,” she pleaded. “Come on, use your storm, idiot.” He didn’t respond. “Kaal… Kaal!” Her grip was weakening. Slowly, he was pulling away from her. “No. No, I won’t let you go! I won’t let you, Aldrick. No!!”

  He fell from her.

  She closed her eyes. Seconds passed. The sound of his body landing didn’t come. She covered her mouth and screamed. This couldn’t be… this couldn’t be his end. What had she done?!

  For a long time she remained there, praying that she would suddenly hear Aldrick shouting to tell her that he was all right. He didn’t. An abyss was opening inside her heart.

  “Aldrick…”

  She was alone now.

  With feeble care, she crawled back to level ground and found her feet. She turned one last time and stared blankly back into the darkness. There was nothing, just the indifferent sound of the water flowing by her. She left.

  Kaal’s face drained the moment he saw her approaching. She must have appeared the ruin she was.

  “What has happened?” he asked nervously.

  She stood in front of him, light-headed and shaking.

  “Kaal…” she began. “Your brother… he fell.”

  15

  AASHKARA

  They were in the courtyard. The early sun hid behind stone. The air was still and cold. In a far corner, a mound of black ash and bones smouldered—remains of the bodies which had lain upon the ground last night.

  Malath had them on a cart at one end of an orderly line of his followers who stood aside their horses, ready for travel. Selayna and Dron were among them. A regal black stallion waited before the line, master absent—he remained indoors. The courtyard was seized by a foreboding silence. Something was about to happen. Jon had a faint idea of what it might be that chilled his blood.

  Devéna clasped his hand. Her face w
as pale and her breaths deep.

  “Jon,” she whispered. “I am glad to be in the company of such an old and dear friend today.”

  He looked into her eyes, tears welling in his own. He managed a smile but could not speak. Guilt stifled him. She was here because of him.

  Malath emerged from the demeaned doors of Delthendra. He strode toward the centre of the courtyard, his face deadpan. Behind him, a large object levitated—part of the elongated backbone of a massive creature. Jon heard Frade gulp beside him and shared the sentiment. This was the dawning of a great evil.

  With care, Malath settled the bone upon the ground then distanced himself from it. Everyone watched and waited with baited breath. Malath raised his hands before him and lowered his head in concentration. Slowly, the ghostly smoke of a dragon’s soul appeared, enveloping the bone where it lay. It was simply colossal. There were gasps, even fearful cries. Horses whinnied and shifted about fretfully. Little by little, the soul became more vivid, until it was transparent no longer; it was a wholly formed entity, sheathed in sharp, blood-red stone. It lay with its head bowed behind one horned wing, dormant.

  Malath lowered his hands and took further steps back, evidently awestruck by the enormity and direful nature of what he had resurrected before him. Every horse, save for his own, broke free from restraint and galloped wildly down the path toward the city. A number of his followers made to flee also but fell as Malath tore their hearts from their chests.

  “Traitors!” he bellowed.

  The dragon was breathing, slowly and steadily, like waves that washed then subsided from a winter shoreline. It awakened, raising its head and opening smouldering yellow eyes. They fixed on Malath, who nodded in acknowledgement of its attention.

  “I live once more because of you, wielder… you have my gratitude.” The dragon spoke as thunder would if it had a voice.

  “Don’t mention it,” Malath replied in a notably smaller voice than usual.

  The mighty creature stood and spread its wings. The ground shuddered and the courtyard became as dark as the night. It braced its hind legs against the ground and launched its colossal body into the air. Violent gusts of air swept across the courtyard as it ascended into the pallid sky. For a time the dragon glided in broad circles, then roared ferociously and swooped down upon the roof of Delthendra. When it landed, cracks appeared in the chiselled rock and loose stones began to cascade down the sharp walls of the gully. After they had settled, a long silence ensued in which the dragon simply looked on, ignoring them all as they gaped at it from below. Eventually Malath addressed it once more, speaking in a tone of hesitant authority.