The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 03 - Glimmer in the Shadow

by Jason McWhirter

  Hagar skidded to a stop just twenty paces from the animal, who, miraculously, was still staring directly at him. The deer moved slowly to Hagar’s right and pawed the ground with its front hooves. Hagar eased his left arm back, knowing that he could not miss at this distance.

  Just as he was ready to throw the second stone, the deer pawed the ground again. The simple movement directed Hagar’s eyes to the ground at the animal’s feet. Metal glinted there, and he momentarily forgot about the deer as he stepped closer to get a better look. Behind a fallen log was a large silver breast plate with shoulder guards and what looked like a huge club. He had seen a similar breast plate on the cavalier, but he had never seen a weapon like this. The handle was long and polished, and the round metal head was covered in deadly spikes. He stepped closer and noticed the objects glittering in the morning sun’s rays. He could not tear his eyes away from these magnificent items. As he stood admiring the incredible weapon and breast plate, he noticed that the deer was no longer there.

  Hagar reached down and lifted the breast plate from the ground. His body was immediately flooded with warmth, and his hunger disappeared, replaced by a wave of contentment. Somehow he knew how to put it on, and that it would fit him perfectly.

  He slid it over his head and cinched the leather straps tight on the sides. The armor fit his massively muscled body perfectly. Embossed in the center of the breast plate was the head of a deer sporting a set of majestic antlers. Above the head was a four pointed star shining rays down upon the stag. Hagar did not know the significance of the symbols, but he somehow knew that it had been placed in the clearing for him to take.

  He reached down and wrapped his large knobby hand around the handle of the weapon. It felt warm to the touch, and even though the head of the weapon was twice the size as the stones he threw, he could lift it easily with one hand. The weapon was as tall as a man, its handle polished steel, light as wood, with a two handed grip made of silver wire. Hagar swung the weapon from side to side with one hand, creating a whooshing sound as the huge spiked head displaced the air around it.

  Hagar smiled, amazed by the knowledge that he somehow knew that the weapon had been made for him. They were miraculous gifts, but he did not yet understand their significance. As he thought about their purpose his mind was flooded with images. He saw a huge city…he saw men fighting beasts….and most importantly he saw himself, wearing the armor, fighting with the men, scattering orcs with great swings of his mighty weapon.

  Then the images disappeared just as quickly as they had come. But now he understood, and with a purpose that he had never before felt, he turned and hurriedly leaped through the trees. He did not know how he knew where he was going, nor did he question it. But he had a purpose, and the purpose felt good. He would get to this city, and he would fight alongside these men, of that he had no doubt.

  * * *

  Fil was sitting alone, eating his morning meal in the mess hall. He was tired. He had had been continually checking on Jonas, and the stress of not being able to help his friend was taking its toll. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and he was short of temper. His anxiety for Jonas, combined with the tension that hung in the air, was suffocating the young warrior. Everyone was preparing for the coming attack, and so should he be, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t think of anything else other than what Jonas was going through. What if his friend never came back from wherever he had lost himself? It was a thought that darkened Fil’s already sour mood. Then a familiar voice snapped him out of his dark trance.

  “My friend, I’m glad I found you.”

  Fil looked up and smiled widely, which felt good as he realized that it had been a while since a smile had graced his visage. The last few weeks had been filled with so many trials and tribulations, combined with Jonas’s recent fate an aura of melancholy had been following Fil for some time now. Standing next to him was Calden, his friend from the knight apprentices. Calden had been their team leader when he and Jonas had joined the knight apprenticeship. He was a good leader, and a good friend, and Fil was very happy to see him.

  “Calden, it is good to see you,” Fil said as he set his spoon down and stood up to greet his friend.

  “And you,” Calden replied as they shook hands. “I was told I could find you here. Do you mind?” Calden asked, indicating the seat next to him.

  “Please, join me.”

  Calden sat down. “I’m glad you are well. We have heard lots of rumors and I’m not sure what is true and what is not. Is it true that Jonas is here?”

  “Yes,” Fil said, his expression returning to its former grim look. “But he is not well. He was captured by Dykreel clerics…they did something to him, something that we cannot yet heal.”

  “Will he live?”

  “I do not know.”

  They were silent for a few moments. “Is it true that you were successful in your mission? I have heard whispers that King Kromm is here.”

  “It is true…he is here. But what of you? How have you been?” Fil asked, changing the subject.

  “Well, since you left not much is new. I’m still with Tanus’s infantry. Most of our time is spent preparing the city for the Dark One’s arrival. When I joined the military I had no idea that I’d spend more time holding a saw and hammer than a sword.”

  “You have definitely been busy. I couldn’t believe how different the city looked when we came in the other day.”

  A young page quickly came through the door and made his way to Fil. The boy was maybe thirteen and had a mop of unruly brown hair. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but your presence is required in the cavalier’s room. Some new arrivals came in today, elves from Mel’un-riam, and they have requested to see you. The king asked me to inform you to go there immediately.”

  “Thank you,” Fil responded as he stood up quickly, eager to find out the reason for the summons. His interest was piqued as he had no idea why elves would want to see him. Besides, he had never met an elf before, except for Allindrian, and she was only half-elf.

  The young page nodded his head and moved off to other tasks.

  “I’m sorry, Calden, but I have to go. It was great to see you,” Fil said.

  “You as well. I hope that Jonas will be okay.”

  “Me too,” Fil said, gripping Calden’s shoulder as he quickly moved past him, eager to get to Jonas’s room.

  Jonas had been given a quiet, comfortable room that normally would be reserved for visiting dignitaries. Fil quickly made his way through the castle halls. He passed several stationed guards who recognized him, letting him through the maze of halls with a curt nod.

  Jonas’s door was ajar and he quickly entered to find the room full of people. Allindrian and Kiln were both there, as well as King Baylin. But it was the three tall fair skinned elves that gave Fil pause. They weren’t really tall, maybe Kiln’s height, but their long thin limbs and graceful fingers gave them the appearance of someone much taller. Long blond hair hung well past their shoulders, and their large almond shaped eyes darted towards Fil as he entered.

  Instantly Fil’s senses were flooded with the smell of the forest, as if damp moss had been rubbed across his nose. It was a pleasant smell, almost intoxicating, with an earthiness reminiscent of a warm spring morning.

  The elves wore soft flowing tunics and breeches of brown and green. Long green cloaks draped their shoulders and even the slightest movement sent them fluttering like leaves dancing in the wind. Each wore a hunting knife and a long slightly curved sword at their hip, all gilded with gold and silver.

  As they turned to face Fil he saw that they had a similar design on their tunics. A beautiful pattern of interlocking leaves and vines formed a circle around a shining sun. The design was simple, but elegant, with gold and silver embroidery that made it look almost regal.

  “Fil, good, we’ve been waiting for you,” King Baylin said as he left Jonas’s bedside to greet him. “We have three emissaries here from Mel’un-riam, Ekahals sent by King Ell-Rulnore. They
are here to help us defend Finarth…and they said they can help Jonas.”

  Fil’s heart surged with hope as he stepped toward the three elves. There were actually elves here to help, and Ekahals at that, said to be the most powerful wizards in Kraawn. If anyone could help Jonas it would be them. Fil eagerly greeted the elven wizards, “My name is Fil Tanrey and we are most grateful for your help. Jonas deserves it. I don’t know what has happened to him, but he is alone somewhere, and more than likely suffering, neither of which he deserves.”

  The tallest of the three spoke first.

  “Greetings, young soldier of Finarth. I am Lor-telliam and my two companions are Sar-gathos and Tel-andorsis. It will not be easy, but we think we can help this young cavalier, and we would be privileged to do so by all accounts.”

  “What is wrong with him, sir…Lor…”

  “Lor is my title,” the elf said with a subtle smile. It is my Ekahal rank and formal enough for this setting and circumstance.”

  “I see…thank you, Lor-telliam,” Fil said, slightly embarrassed. He had never spoken with full blooded elves, let alone a high ranking Ekahal of the elven court.

  “He is lost to our world, Fil Tanrey. The device has corrupted him beyond our repair. If we remove Dykreel’s symbol then Jonas will die. If we leave it, and do nothing, then its dark power will eventually find him, and kill him.”

  Lor-telliam moved closer to Jonas and the other two Ekahals followed. Fil stepped near Kiln, Allindrian, and King Baylin, all of whom were standing on the opposite side of Jonas.

  “What do you mean he is lost?” Fil asked. It became apparent to Fil that no one else was asking questions. They were just staring at Fil intently. “Why are you looking at me? What have you done?” Fil asked, concern and frustration edging his voice.

  “Fil, friend of Jonas, listen very carefully,” Lor-telliam whispered softly, “Jonas does not have much time. He is fighting against the blackness that is trying to overwhelm him, trying to take over his body. He cannot last much longer. We are extremely impressed that he has lasted this long, for it seems a most impossible feat. We cannot remove the device from his body, but we believe that we can permanently contain the magic within it so that it does Jonas no more harm. But we cannot do it while Jonas is lost within himself.”

  As if on cue, Kiln quickly added, “Fil, someone has to go and find him. And it must be someone that Jonas trusts, someone that he connects with the outside world.”

  “Will you do this, Fil Tanrey?” Sar-gathos asked, speaking for the first time.

  “I will do anything to help Jonas. But what are you asking? How do we do it? How do I find him? It is a journey along a road I do not know,” Fil said, his voice revealing the eagerness, doubt, and confusion that all seemed to overwhelm him at once.

  “We will guide you, young warrior,” Lor-telliam said. “But it will be very dangerous. It is difficult to explain. But try to imagine a long road that connects everyone’s energy to the Ru’Ach. When you die, you travel that path, normally a quick journey. But not for Jonas, he is stuck on this road. He cannot fully return to his body, nor can he join his energy with the Ru’Ach, that is unless he gives up and dies. But from what I’ve learned of this young man, that possibility may be rather remote. You must find Jonas on this road, and bring him back. Your spirit self will be entering a very dark and evil place. You will have to fight through unknown horrors to reach Jonas. If you find him, you must bring him back to the living so that we can contain the darkness and give him himself back. But he may be lost already. His mind could be fractured, requiring someone very close to him to pull him out of this dark void.”

  “I will do anything for him,” Fil said emphatically.

  “If your spirit dies there, your body will also die, you will die, do you understand?” asked Tel-andorsis.

  “He would do no less for me. When do I start?” Fil asked.

  “Not I, Fil, but we. I will be going with you,” Kiln said.

  “And so will I,” Allindrian added quickly.

  “They agreed as readily as you. It seems that Jonas’s actions have garnered him respect beyond his years, for he brings forth devotion that is rarely seen,” Sar-gathos said.

  “You will understand when you meet him. When shall we begin?” Fil asked eagerly.

  Lor-telliam looked at his companions and nodded, “Now. We should wait no longer.”

  Fil looked at Kiln and Allindrian with a mix of fear and anticipation. They returned his gaze with a look of pure confidence and steadfast will. They gave Fil hope.

  “What will I need for this journey?” Fil asked the three elves.

  “Nothing,” Lor-telliam said. “You are entering a place of nothingness and everything. A place where you can make it what you will. You will not need to sleep, eat, or do anything that you would normally do here, for only your spirit will be making this journey. Your physical body will remain here. If you want armor, all you must do is imagine it. If you have need of a sword, wish it. The possibilities are endless. But remember, you can feel pain, and you can die. So you must be vigilant.

  “How do we find him?” Kiln asked.

  “Just follow the light,” Tel-andorsis replied, “The place you will enter will be dark and it will have begun to take on the appearance of that which Dykreel wishes.

  “What can we expect in this place?” Fil asked, still confused and trying to grasp the enormity of what they were about to do.

  “We all have a path to the Ru’Ach, each a creation of our own minds,” Tel-andorsis continued as he struggled for the words. “Normally this road would be filled with the thoughts and images of the cavalier. But his mind is fragmented and corrupted and what you will see is not of his creation. You will see the images of Dykreel’s evil power as its black stain slowly takes over Jonas’s mind. The light that you will see is all that is left of Jonas. It needs to be restored, and the stain needs to be stopped. We can do this, but not while Jonas is still lost.”

  “So what do we do when we find him?” Allindrian asked.

  “You must convince Jonas that you are who you say you are, and that you are there to bring him back,” Lor-telliam said.

  “Convince him? Why would we have to do that? Wouldn’t he know us, and know that we came to help him?” Fil asked.

  “He may not. You do not know what his condition will be. His mind may not be as you remember it. He may not recognize you. Dykreel will do all that he can to mask your true identity, to make the situation appear different to Jonas than it actually is. It will be very confusing for everyone. This is why we need his trusted friends for this task, or it will not work. When you find him, he must place his hand over this amulet. His touch will link him, and you, to us, and we will bring him back while simultaneously shielding him from the power of the device in his chest. If you are not touching each other while Jonas grips the amulet, then you will be left behind to be swallowed up by the darkness. Your soul will be lost.” Lor-telliam paused for a moment to let that sink it. “Do you all understand?”

  Fil glanced at Allindrian and Kiln, and without hesitation they nodded their affirmation.

  “Let’s get on with it,” Kiln said, directing his gaze to several servants standing by the door. They left the room and returned promptly, each carrying a cushioned chair. Kiln directed them to place the seats near Jonas’s bed.

  “Now, please have a seat and we will begin,” Lor-telliam directed them.

  They did as the elf suggested while Tel-andorsis moved to Jonas’s side. His body was still covered by the light blanket of Ulren. Jonas’s body was clearly visible through the clear shimmering fabric. Shyann’s mark still covered his entire torso, but the pink scars from the horrific wound on his chest marred the otherwise beautiful design. The God Mark on Jonas’s forehead was gone and had been replaced by a small metal barbed halo. The barbs of Dykreel’s symbol had burrowed into Jonas’s skin, holding it in place. Shyann’s God Mark underneath had melted away into a messy wound covered in d
ried blood and scar tissue.

  Lor-telliam moved to a side table where there was a jug and several glasses. He reached into his tunic and produced a small pouch. “I am going to give you some bitter tasting tea. It will make you fall asleep quickly,” he said as he poured the contents into three glasses and filled them with hot water. “Sar-gathos will place a small necklace around your necks. The stones placed in the necklaces will link the three of you together and will allow us to send you into Jonas’s void. You will be disoriented at first but will soon become accustomed to it.” The fair skinned elf turned and handed each person a ceramic cup. “Remember, trust only yourselves. And don’t forget your hands need to be in contact with each other when Jonas grasps the amulet.”

  Fil was sitting next to Kiln while Allindrian was opposite of Jonas. Fil glanced nervously at the stoic warrior. Kiln smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, we will bring him back.”

  Fil smiled back but he could not subdue the fear he was feeling. The thought of entering some dark hole inside Jonas’s mind unnerved him more than he wanted to admit. He took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. His friend was waiting for him and he would not let him down. “I’m ready.”

  “Good. Here is the amulet, Fil. Don’t lose it as it is your key to return,” Sar-gathos said as he handed Fil the necklace. It was a simple leather strap with a beautiful turquoise stone set in what looked like a silver dragon’s claw. It was very similar to the necklace that they each now wore around their necks.

  Tel-andorsis lifted the light cloth off of Jonas and instantly his body began to thrash back and forth, but his arms and legs were lashed to the bed and they held firmly. Jonas’s anguished moans pierced Fil’s heart, giving him the strength and determination to help his friend.

  “Now drink the tea,” Lor-telliam said.

  Without another word all three drank the bitter brew in one long pull.