by Steven Drake
“Then will you allow me to gather recruits?”
“I will allow you to retain those slaves who have already pledged themselves to you. I admit that I doubted you. Without Darien the Executioner, I feared you had not the strength to lead even the weakest of my people. I had doubts about allowing any of our people, even the lowliest slaves, to follow a child to an unknown fate, but now I have none. Darien’s loss has made you stronger, not weaker. Still, I cannot allow you to recruit others. I cannot allow Ebonscale of any class to take up arms without the Greatmother’s formal declaration of war. This is our law, and it cannot be set aside.”
Jerris hung his head slightly. Even after reaching the elder dragon, his request had been denied. He raised his head again, determined to stay strong to the end. “Then I thank you for your audience, honored elder, all the same.” Jerris started to turn but the dragon lifted his head and a small plume of fire escaped his lips, singing the hairs on Jerris’ head.
“Do not leave so hastily, Jerris Tolmirran, for I have one more thing to say. I have not the authority to do more myself, but I have heard your words, and I will take your request before the Greatmother, as soon as I am able.”
Jerris had to strain to keep his composure, and keep his mouth from hanging open like a dumbstruck fool. There was at least some hope. “I am grateful, Elder Gransz, for your consideration.” He finally managed to say as he fell to one knee.
Jerris remained kneeling a few seconds, letting out a long sigh of relief as quietly as possible. He knew that soon there would come a point where others would bow before him instead, but for now, he remained Jerris, not a king, but simply a grateful half-elf. He rose, turned, and walked proudly out of Gransz’s cave.
Three days passed, days of uncertainty, spent largely waiting for the Greatmother’s response. Jerris spent much of his time waiting hand and foot on Nia, who still suffered the aftereffects of the powerful magic suppressing shackles. With Ceres no longer working to keep the two apart, Jerris enjoyed his time with her, knowing that soon they would have to face a long and difficult journey back to Trinium, where they would be parted again, hopefully not for long, while Nia attempted to negotiate with the former High Inquisitor and now Empress Barris.
On the morning of the fourth day, Jerris was summoned by Gransz to his cave, along with Tzia, Skarn, Kesz, and a number of others. This time, Nia accompanied him. Hand in hand, they walked into the cave. The cave was well lit this time, as several torches had been added to lend a more formal tone, at least so far as it was possible to make a cave seem formal. The elder dragon was standing this time, nearer the cave opening. Everyone was standing in a half circle around Gransz, apparently awaiting Jerris’ arrival.
“Welcome,” the elder dragon bellowed loudly. “I have summoned all of you here for an announcement, a decree from the Greatmother that concerns you all.” This is it, Jerris thought, the moment he would get his answer. Nia squeezed his hand and he felt her momentarily open her aura, reassuring him, filling him with a calm that his nerves desperately needed. “The Greatmother has come to a decision regarding recent events. The Demon King of the East can no longer be ignored. He has brought war upon us. He sent an army against Kilnar. He has supported the rebellious Icehorn and Firemane tribes. More terrible still, the Greatmother believes that the Demon King has rediscovered the lost magic used to summon the formless demons. With demons at his command, he can return us to the darkest chapter in our history. We cannot allow this threat to go unchallenged.” Gransz turned his head and looked directly at Jerris now. “Still, we cannot fight the Demon King’s armies alone. Already he enjoys alliances with many of our brethren in the south and east, but we will not bow to him. Instead, we must seek allies among the younger races. In this, we are inexperienced and unprepared, so the Greatmother has chosen to place her faith in our friends, others who have already proved their honor.” The elder dragon moved his neck slightly forward towards where Jerris and Nia stood. Suddenly, all eyes focused on Jerris. “Jerris Tolmirran, Niarie Kortana, heroes of the battle of Kilnar, the Greatmother has chosen to place her faith in you, as I have advised her. Recruit soldiers as you please amongst those of our lower classes. Let them seek honor on their own terms, if that is their choice. Your request is granted.”
Jerris bowed low. “Thank you, honored Elder.”
“With this boon, we extend also a responsibility. The Ebonscale will join your war effort against the Demon King, in order to prevent the revival of the formless ones. Seek your alliance with the Golden Shield, and among the kingdoms of men. In addition to those you may recruit to your banner, the Greatmother has chosen to send a contingent of dragonkin warriors under the command of Sub-commander Tzia. She will be responsible for keeping us informed of your progress, but aside from this, she and her soldiers will be under your command. Hopefully, the favor of our people will carry weight with the new Empress.”
Jerris bowed even deeper. “Thank you, honored Elder. This is more than I expected. I promise you I will succeed.”
“I certainly hope so. I have seen many centuries, but never before have I seen our Greatmother so concerned for our future. The fate of our race, perhaps all races, now lies with you. Good luck.”
Jerris bowed low once again, then glanced about the room. All eyes were upon him, and he felt the weight of their stares. Every one of them looked to him as a leader, each one placed an unspoken trust in his judgement, each depended on him to act wisely. Am I ready for this, Jerris asked himself? Can I really raise an army to fight the Demon King? Then Nia squeezed his hand, and he felt a surge of confidence. When she was beside him, he felt he could do anything. Jerris looked from one guest to the other, trying to appear confident, to reassure them with his eyes. A few of them walked over and shook his hand, while others bowed. Even as the meeting quietly ended, Jerris’ mind focused on the future. He had a lot of work to do, starting with recruiting as many as possible to his cause. Once that was finished, he had to prepare for the journey to Trinium, and to plan for what lay beyond.
Chapter 15: Deepening Shadows
Mirisa had grown worried about her patient. In the two weeks since Darien had moved to the old mage quarters outside town, his injury had not improved. Over the first month, while he still lay unconscious, he had improved, slowly to be sure, but steadily. Since he had awakened however, all progress had ceased, and over the past few days, she had begun to actually lose ground to the strange force she still did not understand.
Mirisa suspected more strongly than ever, that something beyond a physical injury was at work, something beyond simple poison, or even disease. She had contended with all those things before, but she had never encountered anything like this. The wound seemed to have a life of its own. She had always felt that it somehow fought against her healing, but over the past few days, the resistance had grown stronger, and felt more malevolent. She took special care to avoid showing it, but each session now left her completely exhausted. She could not keep up the pace forever. Something had to change.
After considerable thought, Mirisa formed a theory in her mind, an idea, but to find out if it was correct, she needed to know more about Darien, who he was, and what happened to him. Ever since Darien’s meeting with the faerie, the darkness that surrounded him had deepened. Why, she could not say, but it coincided with his worsening condition. The two had to be related.
A thick fog had settled over Exire and the surrounding environs on that particular morning. Mirisa walked through the fog with a purpose, resolved to finally push Darien for information. Miri could see just a few feet ahead as she walked quietly up the path to Darien’s quarters. The cool fog lent an air of privacy to the journey, aided by the fact she had finally prevailed upon Garok to stop following her every day.
It was still early when she approached the stone door. Unlike the one Darien had dislodged, the new door was smooth, almost perfectly so, with sharp angles at the edges. Mirisa wished she could have seen its creation, but Darien had not e
ven thought to offer. She opened the door to the empty darkness. It was always dark when she arrived. Just how could he see in this pitch blackness? Miri herself could see very well at night, better than most in fact. After a time, one’s eyes became attuned to the light of the moon and stars, but how could anyone learn to navigate in this?
A moment after she opened the door, light sprung from ahead. Darien had lit the fire in the main chamber. She found Darien sitting in his chair, examining some of the old wizard’s books.
“Good morning,” Miri greeted him cheerfully.
“Hm.” Darien mumbled something she guessed to be a feeble good morning, got up, walked over to his bed, and laid down. On some mornings, when the darkness seemed deep around him, he refused to speak entirely. He sat and waited.
“Before we start, I need to talk to you.”
Darien opened an eye and glared narrowly at her. “What is it?”
“You know magic, right?” Miri tried her best at a hard expression.
“Yes, you already knew that. Why ask again?”
“You know the powers I have, my healing. It’s like your magic, isn’t it?”
Darien opened his other eye and stared fixedly into her eyes, irritated but not yet hostile. “All magic is ultimately derived from the same source, but in every other way, your magic is completely different.”
“Is it really?” Mirisa raised her hand, and reached deep into her memory. She pulled out the light she remembered from so long ago. It had been a long time since she had dared use it. Zitane would not be happy that she used it now. The orb of light sputtered and flickered weakly, but held together.
Darien blinked and yawned, seemingly unimpressed. “So where did you learn that?”
“I didn’t learn it. I’ve always known it, as long as I can remember.”
Darien cocked his head to the side, curiously. “In that case when was the first time you did it?”
“I don’t really remember. I’ve always been able to do it.”
“Impossible,” Darien scoffed. “No one is born knowing how to manifest magic. The most talented can manifest as early as age seven or eight, but no one is born knowing that.”
“I didn’t say I was born knowing it.” Miri glanced aside to avoid his gaze. Hopefully, this would pique his curiosity.
He remained silent a few seconds, quietly thinking. “You’ve lost your memory?” His words remained calm, but carried a faint sympathy. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I’ve gotten used to it. The first thing I remember is waking up. Zitane and his brother found me in the mountains, in a hidden garden. I don’t remember how I got there, or anything from before that moment.” That was not quite true. There was one thing she remembered from before that moment, but she was not prepared to share that with Darien just yet.
“Hmm.” Darien lowered his eyes and stared at a corner. What is he thinking, she wondered? At least I’ve gotten him talking. “There are enchantments which can cause memory loss, and usually they cause a long sleep, anywhere from a few days to a few months. Where was this exactly?”
“I’m not really sure. Zitane thought it was some kind of demon magic, so he wouldn’t take me back there.”
Darien let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, Zitane is wrong. Only demons can use demonic energy, and there are few if any left…” He strangely paused, and his eyes drifted off. He shook his head a few seconds later. “It’s not important. You don’t have to be afraid of your magic. It’s not related to demons at all.”
Miri smiled at him, though she couldn’t tell whether he even noticed. He still seemed to be lost in thought, and she had a sudden urge to know what about. “What are you thinking? Do you know what happened to me?”
“I have some ideas. Come here.” He reached out for her. What was he doing? “Just give me your hand.” She took two steps over and extended her hand. He took it gently, grasped her arm about the wrist, and ran his other hand up and down her forearm. She felt energy run through her, cool but not cold. He made several thoughtful expressions, then a very sour face, then he opened his eyes. “How old are you?” he asked pointedly. Miri did not hide her disgust. How rude could a man possibly be?
“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady her age?” She pulled away and clasped her arm behind her back. “Why do you want to know so much?”
Darien shook his head in frustration. “Why do you think I care about your age, Princess Mirisa? I’m not one of your suitors. I just meant that your age would give me some idea about this enchantment. It feels old, even ancient.”
Mirisa tried to remove the disgust from her face. Darien’s explanation had seemed genuine, but she still felt a bit insulted by the comment, as if she were some spoiled bratty princess who expected to be worshipped and doted upon by every man who met her.
“Oh, well, in that case, I guess it’s been about twenty years since Zitane found me. He guessed I was about ten to twelve then? Does that help?” Mirisa said as she looked away in an attempt to hide her sour face.
“Somewhat. It seems you were sleeping for a very long time. Your memory was suppressed by a powerful mage, stronger than I am, a long time ago.”
“A long time? How long?”
Darien gave her a flat look of assessment, then sighed. “Decades, centuries, ages. I can’t tell. Probably too long for any spell or enchantment cast directly on you. There must have been another spell that kept you asleep, something related to your location. I’m sorry.” He stood and shook his head. “Was that all you wanted to talk about?”
“Erm… no, well, yes, but there’s more. It’s just that, well, sometimes I see things, and I don’t understand what they mean.”
“You see lights in people?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Because I can see it too. All mages develop it over time. What you see is the energy that animates all things. It is everywhere, but it is strongest in living creatures, and mages have a particular affinity for it. People with strong energy seem to glow. That’s called a mage aura. You can probably see mine.”
“No, well, not exactly. That’s what I wanted to talk about. I’ve always seen those things, and I’ve gotten used to it, but you’re different. With you, the light can be really strong, brighter than anyone I’ve ever known, but there’s something else, a darkness, tangled up with the light. It looks like a smoke, but it moves so strangely, like it’s alive, and it’s kept getting larger since you woke up. I think it’s preventing your injury from healing properly.”
Darien seemed to freeze in place, then he turned and faced the wall. Miri felt a cold chill. Did the room suddenly get colder? Darien just stared at the wall for several silent minutes. Mirisa waited patiently. She could tell that he knew something about this, or had an idea. Hopefully he trusted her enough to tell. For the moment, she didn’t press, but she intended to get an answer. Finally, he turned. “I think I know what you’re seeing, but I don’t know how you’re seeing it. You have powers I truly do not understand.” That did not make Miri feel any better about it, and it didn’t really answer the question. She was about to complain when Darien reached over his shoulder and drew the strange sword from its sheath on his back.
She had never paid much attention to the thing before, not since that frightening moment when she had first seen it, and it had almost called to her. She did not want to look at it again, but she had finally gotten Darien to talk, so she forced herself to look at it. The blade was black, but it was not simply black. The blade seemed to have depth, as though the darkness inside it were somehow very far away. She felt she could almost fall into that darkness and never hit bottom. The blade’s surface seemed absent, as if there were no surface to see, just a hole that fell endlessly into nothing. She saw movements in the darkness, swirling spirals, wriggling snake patterns, and squirming twirls, like a sheen of oil upon calm water, a slow sickening creep that made her queasy. The dark smoke seemed to flow from somewhere within the dark space. Then she knew, she kne
w for certain that this sword was the source of the dark energy.
“You can see it, can’t you?” Darien said. Mirisa nodded mutely, her eyes locked on the maddening darkness. Finally, thankfully, he sheathed the blade, then rubbed his chin and began pacing around the room. Mirisa relaxed as the maddening presence faded. “It’s getting harder to heal the wound, isn’t it?” Mirisa nodded again. He does know what’s happening to him. “This weapon is cursed. It grants the wielder power, but at a price. It is like a poison that slowly seeps in over time. I don’t know why it is affecting the wound, but I’m sure that is what is happening.” Finally, an answer. This cursed sword was the source of all his problems.
“So, what can I do? How can I help?”
“There’s nothing you can do about this, I’m afraid. You can’t contend with that power, and you probably shouldn’t try. It may be that you have only succeeded in delaying my death.”
“No, that’s not so. It was getting better, it was, until, well until you woke up.” He seemed ready to give up, but Miri was not. She shook her head fiercely. She felt a sense of vindication from learning she was correct. Now, perhaps they could finally make some progress. “I knew there was something different about you. I could sense it.” Miri clenched her fists in frustration, how to explain it? She had nothing more to go on than vague feelings difficult to put to words. “It’s like you’re… I don’t know, divided, conflicted, struggling. Like light and shadow fighting over the same space. When I found you at first, you were so peaceful. The darkness was just thin, like smoke. Something changed when you woke up. It’s gotten stronger. I don’t understand it. I thought you might.”