Armies of the Silver Mage

by Christian Freed

  Hallis said nothing. Unlike the Grelnor, he was a professional soldier. Trained and disciplined over a lifetime of trials, Hallis allowed his reflexes to take over. He made a light feint, testing Spendak’s defenses. Spendak parried right, bringing both weapons together in a shower of sparks. The Grelnor laughed.

  “You can’t possibly think you’ll defeat me. I’ve killed many that were better than you,” Spendak boasted as he circled his foe.

  Hallis stabbed again. He sensed weakness in the man and used it to his advantage. His spear tip came down on Spendak’s forearm, drawing a thin red line through the sleeve. Cursing, Spendak lunged. It was a reckless move in which he trade balance and poise for anger. Anger and carelessness led many a man to his untimely demise, and that was exactly where Hallis hoped to take him. Swinging the spear like a club, Hallis continued his attack. The last thing he wanted was for Spendak to recover. As it was, the Grelnor was knocked off balance, narrowly avoiding a slash across his throat.

  Spendak reacted aggressively, rising up and bringing his sword to bear with his full weight. The force of the blow halved the spear and sent Hallis reeling back. Spendak smiled moved in for the kill. The sword struck but Hallis moved just in time. Steel scraped against the stone wall. Hallis used those few seconds to his advantage by dropping to a knee and slamming the broken haft into Spendak’s stomach with all his might. Sparks fell down around the two. Hot blood splashed the marble floor. Spendak stared in disbelief as the life slowly faded from his eyes. The sword dropped away.

  “How?” he asked with his last breath.

  Delin’s blood dripped unchecked onto the crystal. Each drop widened the gateway to the netherworld. Sidian, despite the triumph of the moment, saw the battle rage around him and felt his world slipping away. Centuries of scheming and endless wait were crashing down around him. He had to act now or all was lost forever.

  “Kill him now!” he shrieked. Sweat cascaded down his brow. “Release the dark gods!”

  Tarren pushed the blade deeper. Delin looked into her eyes and recognized death. He was helpless to stop her. The dim hope Dakeb once offered was already dim. Pain burned his chest and lungs.

  “Tarren, don’t,” he pleaded. Tears stained his dirty face. “Don’t let him take you from me. Come back, please come back. I…I love you.”

  She hesitated. Doubt flickered briefly behind the façade of evil. Delin’s voice was weak, trembling from a hundred hurtful emotions. The pressure behind the dagger eased. Delin looked down at his love, amazed at what he saw. He took reassurance in her doubt, but didn’t think it was going to be enough. Time slowed around them, until it was just the two of them.

  “I love you, Tarren,” he repeated with more fervor.

  Tarren didn’t know why, but she removed the knife from his flesh. The spell binding her faltered, and she caught a glimpse of freedom beyond. Love swelled into her heart and did battle with the cancer of her soul. Feeling his control slipping, Sidian raged. The amulet around her neck flared hotly and she screamed in pain. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed in a ragged mess of flesh. Her body shook and trembled under the torture of the mage. Delin knew that once he finished with her, he was going to turn his evil back onto him, and that would be the end.

  Blue lightning shot from his fingertip and struck Delin in the chest and arms. Smoked lifted off his charred body. The smell of roasting meat filled the chamber. The Silver Mage glided forward. Despite the intensity of his deeds, he looked frail and weak.

  “Your pathetic attempt to save your precious Tarren has failed, boy. Now you will know the true horrors of what my god offer,” he seethed. Rage consumed him.

  “Mage!” bellowed a voice from behind.

  Everyone turned, eyes widening in shock. Fennic charged with the Phaelor. The sword glowed golden and violent. Sidian stumbled backwards, caught off guard. The pedestal blocked his way. He reach out with a withered hand and touched the crystal, channeling its power into his being. Fennic charged recklessly ahead. Phaelor drove him on, ignoring Dakeb’s previous warnings.

  “Fennic no!” Dakeb shouted.

  But it was already too late. Phaelor swung through the air, hissing as it lashed out to stab Sidian in the side. Buried deep in his belly, Sidian gasped in pain as the golden light flooded his body. He felt the first hints of death creep into his veins, inviting him into oblivion. Fennic shouted in a short lived triumph. He drove the sword deeper, confident that he had fulfilled Phaelor’s destiny and destroyed the reign of the Silver Mage. A bitter sensation edged through him. Too late, Fennic realized his mistake. By touching the crystal, Sidian was able to channel their combined energy through Phaelor and into Fennic. Fennic screamed once before the explosion drove them apart.

  Dakeb rushed to his side, but it was too late. Fennic Attleford lay dead at his feet. Smoke and steam rose from his eyes and mouth. A single tear formed in the corner of Dakeb’s eye. With sorrow, he looked up to see the broken corpse of Sidian laying twisted along the wall. The Silver Mage was dead. Hundreds of years after the war had begun, the last of the dark mages was destroyed and their evil faded. Behind them, the dark gods roared against the their eternal bonds. Dakeb shot a wall of white fire at the gateway, temporarily holding the evil at bay. His strength was waning and knew it wouldn’t be long before the power of the crystal drove him back. He knew there was but one way for them to end this once and for all.

  “Hallis, cut Delin free. Time is almost gone. He and Tarren must use their love to end this or we are doomed,” he strained to say.

  Sweat streamed down his face now. The sheer heat of the energy being used burned his hands and face. The last mage grimaced under the strain.

  “How?” Delin asked as he dropped to the floor and gently scooped Tarren up.

  Dakeb buckled under the power of the Dark Master’s assault. “Trust your hearts. That is all I can tell you.”

  Tarren slowly awoke. Her eyes were soft and filled with love again. Delin looked down in sadness and pain. So many had died for them. The world was dying and the evil of the Silver Mage still threatened to steal them all away. They realized at that moment that if nothing else came from the nightmare surrounding them, they loved each other with all their hearts. Delin bent down and kissed her.

  SIXTY-ONE

  Their lips touched, sparking unabashed romance between them. The feeling went far beyond physical constraints, drawing deeply from a sense of spirituality. Love thrived between Tarren and Delin and filled the ritual chamber. All from the breath of a single kiss. Evil washed away under the power. Delin’s face flushed and Tarren felt giddy and weak in the knees. Their hearts fluttered. They stood there and held each other’s hands, waiting for the end. But it was an end neither expected.

  The power of the crystal dimmed. The violent light was drowned under the weight of love, rapidly losing ground as the influence of the Silver Mage ebbed. The darkness from beyond the gateway collapsed on itself. The volume of power began to suck the very air from the room. Dakeb collapsed. The others struggled for their next breath. Slowly the gate drew shut. The dark gods railed against the light but were helpless to prevent it. They knew that this time was come and gone and another way into the world of the living was needed. They had failed.

  Tarren, on impulse, reached out to clutch the crystal of Tol Shere. The dying flicker called to her, tempting its way back into her mind. She fought with mind and soul, her grip tightening on the crystal. It burned her hand but she didn’t cry out. She took pain in penance for the crimes she’d committed earlier in the night. With a heavy toss, she threw the crystal into the closing gateway before it disappeared. The crystal was finally gone.

  “What have you done?” Dakeb whispered in shock.

  Lightning struck the tower, collapsing a good portion of the roof around them. Norgen bellowed in pain as a large chunk of rock smashed into his leg. The world went mad outside. With Sidian dead, the spells holding Gren together faded. Time and nature returned with a bitter v
engeance.

  “Someone get this damned rock off of me!” Norgen growled weakly. His blood surrounded him in vast, dark pools. He knew he would die if they didn’t escape soon.

  Dakeb struggled back to his feet, dust and debris falling around him. He reached out to touch the surface of the mirror, now plain and unimaginative. The glass shattered at the faintest touch, leaving empty claws grasping the air.

  “The crystal,” he muttered to himself.

  Tarren looked up through her pain and told him, “I made sure no one would ever try what Sidian did. I saved Malweir from suffering, Dakeb.”

  “Yes and no. You have rid Malweir of a blight on her past, but in doing so gave the enemy the very object needed to return. If they figure out how to use it we will truly be doomed,” Dakeb replied gravely.

  Delin left Tarren then to kneel by the body of his best friend. Tears streamed down his face in shame and regret. “Fennic. I’m sorry. It should have been me, not you. I’ll never forget, and won’t let anyone else forget either. I promise.”

  Aingaard rocked beneath them. The destruction was savage and mounting at an alarming pace. Dakeb gathered his wits and motioned for Hallis to help carry Norgen. Using what magic he could muster, Dakeb sealed Norgen’s wounds and tried to ease his pain. The Dwarf, stalwart as he was, passed out. The damage was severe. An ordinary man would have already died. Celegon burst through the door then. He was out of breath and bleeding from several places.

  “The house guard is fleeing. We need to get out of here before the castle collapses around us,” the Elf prince managed.

  Hallis nodded, finally breathing deeply. “Help Dakeb with the Dwarf. I’ll grab Fennic. Everyone else down the stairs.”

  Celegon noticed Fennic’s ruined body for the first time and felt a great pain lance his heart. He watched as Delin painstakingly collected Phaelor and, together with Tarren, moved down the stairs. He realized then that his father was wrong. Men weren’t weak or corrupt. There was strength in the hearts of Men and for that all Averon should be grateful. Celegon staggered over to help pick Norgen up.

  Dust choked the halls, turning night a rusted shade. They found Derlith at the base of the stairs, the body of his friend beside him. Slabs of granite slid from the wall to shatter on the once pure marble floor. The ground shook.

  “This way,” Derlith waved at them.

  The tower collapsed in on itself as they fled. Cement and stone buried Llem’s body just as Derlith was reaching to pick him up. Choking on the dust and debris, the Elf sadly gave up his friend and ran for his own life. Celegon guided them out the palace doors and into a courtyard. thunder and lightning devastated the city. Whole sections had already fallen off the cliff edge. Flames licked up from the ground, melting walls and igniting thatch. Aingaard was dying. Soon there’d be nothing left but painful memories and whispers of ancient grandeur.

  Hallis was able to find the stable quickly in part to the screams of the panicking horses. They managed to subdue enough for their escape and then let the rest free. Hallis and Celegon strapped Fennic’s body down and headed out the stables door. They wasted as little time as possible. Waiting until everyone was safely aboard, Hallis spurred his horse forward.

  The column wound through the crumbling streets. Lightning strikes blasted around them, destroying more with each bolt. A building exploded, showering that part of the city in debris and flame. Tarren clutched her reins tighter and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to die in this maze of endless streets and gutters. At last they came to the decaying marble bridge spanning the chasm. A wall of flame rose on each side of the bridge, pushing the tiny group harder. Hallis led them to a full gallop and the buildings soon gave way to a ravaged landscape caught in the grip of the netherworld. They had returned to the Nveden Plains.

  * * *

  Tremors rocked Gren. Lighting attacked friend as well as foe. The battling armies stopped then. Dead and dying littered the plains. With the death of Sidian, the armies of Gren broke and fled to their underground lairs. Men and Dwarf cheered briefly until they realized the gravity of the situation. Gren was destroying itself around them. Steleon lowered his sword and watched as gaping wounds opened in the ground. Molten fire spit from the holes and the land bled. nature raged out of control and threatened to claim them all unless they escaped. Violent rains began to whip down on them and the call for retreat was raised. Steleon only prayed it was in time to save what was left of the armies.

  * * *

  Hallis kept the pace until dawn. Their course was due south and most of the damage was lost behind them. The world was less turbulent here. Soon they would reach the mountain border with Antheneon and hopefully freedom beyond. With all of the chaos and confusion there seemed little chance of being caught by the enemy so he begrudgingly slowed them. Night gracefully turned to day. Feelings of dread evaporated. They stopped to tend to their wounds and try to eat, but none of them could stomach the food. The pain of last night was too sickening.

  Eventually they left Gren, entering Antheneon’s supple farm lands. The air was easier to breathe. Once again the sky was blue and laced with clouds. The oppression of Gren was behind them. Even though snow blanketed the lands, their spirits were rising. The western lands offered hope and promise. But despair still lurked. The further they traveled the more their grief grew. Llem and Fennic lay dead. Norgen was on death’s door and all of them had wounds needing care. Dakeb could do only so much.

  One night, not far from the border of Averon, they sat around a small fire and tried to forget the misery of Gren. There was little conversation in the flickering light, though all had much weighing on their minds. Delin snuck off to be by himself. He sat alone on a ice covered boulder and cried his pain away. Tarren heard his sobs but left him to his lament.

  “Another few days and we should be at the border,” Dakeb announced after finishing the last shreds of meat on the rabbit leg he’d been gnawing on.

  “We shall take our leave soon,” Celegon told them, firelight reflecting in his jeweled eyes. “My father will wish to know of these events.”

  Dakeb nodded thoughtfully, looking up to see Tarren stalk off in solitude. He found her not far away with her head in her hands. She looked up at the twinkling stars and remembered. Dakeb held back, sensing her desire to be alone, but he knew that doing so wouldn’t be good for her. Of all them, she’d been through the worst. He came to stand behind her and watched the stars in silence for a time.

  “When I was a boy the world seemed so bright,” he told her in a soft voice. “Nowhere I looked could I find darkness. That is the gift of youth, my dear. It is a dream all of us should strive to maintain. Let me show you something wonderful.”

  She hesitantly turned. Dakeb slipped a hand into one of his deep pockets and withdrew a butterfly of beautiful light. The colors of the rainbow danced on its wings. Tarren giggled as it flew to her and landed on her shoulder. She sighed as it dissolved into her skin. Dakeb immediately felt the tenseness leave her. A warmth returned, beating back the cold of what she’d done under Sidian’s spell.

  “You should go and rest now,” he told her.

  She smiled and left him alone. Dakeb suddenly felt old.

  “No one should suffer at such an age,” he whispered to her retreating shadow.

  The night wore on.

  The Elves left them at the border. Celegon promised to send their healers to Averon for Norgen and the other victims of the war. An excitement surged into the group. They were close to home and the end of the road. Almost fifty days ago they’d set out from Paedwyn and gone to war. Fifty days of struggle and misery that would never be

  forgotten. Now they were almost home. The days trickled by slowly until they found themselves son the last ridge overlooking the white towers of mighty Paedwyn. At last, the adventure was over.

  SIXTY-TWO

  Time went on much as it always did. Days turned into weeks and then seasons. Scars healed. Spring replaced winter, and then summer came. People
came to forget the war. Painful memories were slowly laid to rest. The world returned to what it once was. True to his word, the Elvish healers Celegon promised came to Paedwyn. Skilled as they were, they found Norgen’s wounds particularly hard to heal. They spent the better part of a year tending the dying Dwarf. He eventually recovered, but it was through great effort and once he was well he was back to his ornery self. Word of his recovery was sent to Breilnor and his brother, Ordein. A five hundred Dwarf procession was sent to Paedwyn under the banner of friendship. The majority were engineers who boasted they would have Gren Mot rebuilt and better than before. Plans called for additional defenses that would deter even a Dwarf.

  Norgen became his people’s ambassador to King Maelor. Averon had become a land of tolerance and acceptance. They’d even gone so far as to send representatives to the Goblin nation, though no response was returned or even expected. Despite this amplified schedule, Norgen held true to his promise and traveled to Fel Darrins. He and his entourage arrived under much fanfare and celebration. Never before had Dwarves been seen there. He met old friends and Fennic’s family. After a night of hard drinking and discussion, Fennic’s father relented to letting the Dwarves bury his son in the halls of their great kings under the Twin Spires of Ragnash. The original adventurers joined them and for the first time another race was privileged to the splendor of the hall of heroes and kings.

  Celegon became an ambassador for his people as well. He and King Alsenal settled their differences and traveled to reclaim Phaelor. They believed with the Silver Mage gone and the threat of the crystal ended, Phaelor had no more calling in Malweir. Celegon and Norgen became fast friends over the years, strengthening their bonds until their dying days. Once a year they paid homage to Fennic at the base of the mountains. Slowly the division between their races closed and a new age of trade and prosperity dawned on central Malweir.

  The Elves welcomed this change with open arms. Many were tired of the imposed seclusion and eager to see part of what used to their world again. Trade bloomed. Military improvements were made. Before Maelor died he created a joint army command that responded to threats when they arose. But wars were few and far between. Hundreds of years passed before rumors of a new, dark evil surfaced. A small group was launched to find the source of the troubling and was never heard from again. But that is another story.