Fallen Star

by Steven Drake

  Ezra nodded calmly. “As you must have guessed, the protections I placed upon you have faded. The sword is truly yours now, and only your will stands against it. Asleep or awake, it makes no difference now. When it can no longer frighten you with your own memories, it will summon terrible visions of the future, horrors of your furthest imagination, terrible fears for those you care about. You must steel yourself against that.”

  Darien nodded. He felt no surprise at hearing this news. He had guessed that Ezra’s spell no longer protected him, though nothing could have prepared him for that vision. The next time, however, he would be prepared, he would understand it was an illusion. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  “Ezra. Traiz used some kind of poison on me. It paralyzed me instantly. I had to use the sword to overcome it, whatever it was.” Ezra’s eyes glimmered with recognition, and fear. His lips parted ever so slightly, showing obvious concern, and Darien continued. “That is not all. It has left a wound that doesn’t heal on its own. I have become dependent on treatments from a unique healer.”

  Ezra remained silent for a while, again leaning on his staff, and gently swaying. When he spoke, he spoke slowly, with deliberate caution. “I believe I know what it is you experienced. If I am correct, you have been struck with the same poison that was used to disable and ultimately kill Arcanus Sarenna, a secret known only to the Demon King, Varias.”

  “What does it do?”

  “I do not know, but I know the Demon’s Blade did not save Arcanus. The power of the sword might allow you to fight through the poison for a time, but would only hasten your demise afterwards. If he struck you with that poison, you should not have survived.”

  “You mean you didn’t already know what happened?” Darien asked. “Every other time, you’ve known what happened to me without me telling you. Has something changed?”

  “Things are always changing, all around us. It is fair to say that change is the only constant in this world.” Ezra smiled cleverly, and Darien looked crossly back, impatient at the non-answer. “The answer is that I watch you as I am able, but as I mentioned, I have been occupied with other concerns. I felt it when you harnessed the sword’s power, but I have had no opportunity to observe directly since then.”

  Darien didn’t show it, but he found this explanation somewhat inadequate. What would have kept Ezra so busy that he waited for months after something so important? Ezra had always been frustratingly vague, but this seemed to strain all reason. Even so, pressing for more information would only irritate the old man and prompt more vague riddles, and Darien had too many new questions to dwell on old ones.

  “I expected to die, but I happened to land near the home of an unusual elf woman who possesses the power of healing, like my mother.”

  “Hmmm,” Ezra said. “I do not understand how that would be helpful. This poison is magical, not physical. An ordinary healer should not be able to counter it.”

  “Based on what I know, I would agree,” Darien said. “But this woman is strange. She has powers I have not encountered before. She has premonitions of danger, she can read a person’s intent instantly, without using any form of domination.” Ezra tapped a finger on his staff thoughtfully, eyes closed. “But that isn’t the oddest ability she possesses. Somehow, in spite of everything I know about magic, she is able to see the demonic energy of the sword.”

  “What did you say?” Ezra suddenly opened his eyes wide and looked up, wearing an expression Darien had never seen on the old man before. Was it fear? No, terror seemed more accurate.

  “She says she sees a black mist, much like I observed in Trinium after the sword had been separated from me.”

  “That should not be possible,” Ezra’s voice was couched with unmistakable dread. What could frighten the usually calm and measured old man?

  “I agree, yet she does.” Darien paused a moment. “I know fear when I see it, Ezra. What do you know?”

  Ezra shut his eyes, and trembled slightly. “I have heard of abilities like these before, but they should not exist, not anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “The age of demons was not as simple as the stories ever told. Alas, nothing ever is. Not all elves fought against the demons. Some sought to make peace with them, as if that were possible. Some even joined them.” Ezra spoke with undisguised revulsion. This was the same thing Darien had heard from the Greatmother of the Ebonscale. The elves had been divided before their war with the demons, and some of those divisions persisted. Ezra had never mentioned it, but then again, it had never really been relevant before. What did this have to do with Miri’s ability? “They used demonic magic to create powerful blood enchantments that augmented their abilities far beyond ordinary magic. They altered their very nature, at a fundamental level, a change so complete, it passed across generations down to their descendants. They became the Fallen Elves, outcast by their brethren for their treachery. I thought they had all been wiped out. This is ill news.”

  “Wiped out? How?”

  “After the War of Vengeance, the defeated demons scattered to the wind, and so too did their servants. Arcanus Sarenna, the man who mastered the Demon’s Blade, hunted the demons and their servants across Terralien, hoping to eradicate all traces of demonic influence, including the Fallen Elves and all their bloodlines. He mostly succeeded.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Certain unnatural abilities, like your shadow voids, are a remnant of that bloodline, thinned over many centuries. Despite his diligence, Arcanus could not find every descendant, especially those who had interbred with humans. Some of the abilities of the fallen elves survived in descendants who were exceptionally gifted with normal magic. The old abilities could manifest in these rare individuals, but not fully. Abilities like your shadow voids are but a pale shadow of what once existed.”

  The wheels in Darien’s mind turned quickly, grinding out new conclusions. Eldrik, the Archmage of the Golden Shield, could produce shadow voids, albeit weak ones, Darien thought. That ability must actually have come from my father’s line. The Demon King always favored any pupil who could produce shadow voids, and sought them out. He even bestowed the ability on the Black Council. The Demon King must have understood my lineage. That’s why he was so interested in me as a child.

  “That makes sense,” Darien said. “But then why is there an entire kingdom of Fallen Elves, and why do they have no magic?”

  “I do not know,” Ezra said. “Perhaps they found some way to suppress their abilities, and evaded the wrath of Arcanus. Perhaps they are not truly the descendants of the cursed ones. If they possess no magic, then it hardly matters. What does matter is this woman’s abilities. They mark her as pureblooded or very nearly so.”

  “You seem to know a great many things about these elves,” Darien observed.

  “Only because, as a guardian of the Demon’s Blade, I know the entire history of Arcanus Sarenna.” Ezra said curtly. “I had thought Arcanus exterminated all the pureblooded among the Fallen Elves. Powers such as this woman possesses are wholly unnatural. That they still exist is troubling. It is best some things remain lost and forgotten.” Ezra’s tone had now grown darker. No longer fear, but anger, even hatred. I have never seen Ezra react like this, to anything, the half-elf thought to himself. He’s talking about exterminating people like diseased cattle. Who is he? He always calls himself a guardian of the Demon’s Blade, but it’s more than that. He must be connected to the previous owner. Arcanus must have set certain people to serve as guardians and Ezra is a descendant. That’s how he knows so much about this, and that’s why he’s so sympathetic to Arcanus’ cause.

  “You would have me exterminate her, then?” Darien asked the question guardedly. He had never directly confronted Ezra over anything, and was unsure how the man would react. The old man turned towards him, and gave him a hard look. Darien returned the expression. He had no intention of hurting Mirisa, regardless of how dangerous her abilities were.

  “It is not my pla
ce to tell you what you must do.” Ezra suddenly backed down, and calmed, returning to his usual self. “You are the master of the Demon’s Blade, now, and you must do what you think is proper, but be wary of her power. If she is truly a pureblooded descendant of the Fallen, then she is incredibly dangerous, and Varias will seek her out if he knows of her existence.”

  “But he does know,” Darien said. Ezra didn’t know this either. Darien had become so used to the old man knowing everything that happened, to see him so surprised was more than a little disturbing. “He’s working with these Fallen Elves, and seems to have corrupted their prince. He even gave them an order. Mirisa Algalon is not to be harmed. Does that name mean anything to you?”

  Ezra froze. The reaction was unmistakable. He did recognize the name. Just as with the poison, Darien actually knew something Ezra didn’t. Something has changed, Darien thought. I’m certain of it now. Ezra even feels different than before. I never got any sense of his aura before, but now, I feel something. It’s weak, but there’s something there, even if the man himself is just an illusion.

  The old man stood frozen still for a long time, and Darien waited for a response, wondering what might have happened to so preoccupy the old man for all these months.

  “Algalon,” Ezra repeated in a barely audible whisper. “Is it possible?”

  “Is what possible? You know the name. This woman doesn’t know where she came from. She was found in a ruin, and woke up without any memory except her name. If you know something, tell me.”

  “I know the name of Algalon. They were a powerful family of mages and enchanters, among the greatest of their time. They led a faction of the Fallen Elves who managed to evade Arcanus for centuries.”

  “That’s all?” Darien had his doubts. He guessed Ezra knew more, but was holding back. “Don’t you know anything else?”

  “I know many things, but a wise man is careful what information he shares. I could speculate on who this woman might be, but I suspect you would believe me. I might be right, but I might not, and much harm might be done before my error was discovered.” Ezra sighed, and the heavy weariness that passed across his face was almost painful to look at. “Seek out the place where this woman was found, and you may find better answers than I can give you.”

  “I have no time for that.” Darien suddenly took a step forward. “There are more important matters to handle. I have to figure out what the Shades are doing in Catarina. I don’t have time to go on a journey into the wilderness. I need to know what you know, I beg of you. This is important.”

  “Perhaps what you mean to say is that she is important to you.” Darien recoiled instinctively. That was not what he meant. She was important. He needed her healing power, but that was not what Ezra had implied. What had he implied? No, no that’s not possible. I will not allow it. Darien banished the thought from his mind as soon as it appeared. “If it is truly important to you, if you wish for her to know the answers, then you must go and discover them for yourself. I fear I have already done too much. Perhaps I should not have come…”

  “What does that mean? Please Ezra?” Darien almost pleaded. “I have placed so much trust in you, and I will listen to whatever you have to tell me, even if I don’t understand it.”

  “You have, and I know you would. You have done all that I asked, and more. You have trusted me, and for that I am grateful, but there comes a point where we must make our own path, not simply retrace the steps of our elders, lest we doom ourselves to repeating the same mistakes. I am proud of your progress, that you have become worthy of the blade in your own right. That is, after all, what I came here to tell you. You have all the answers you need, and you no longer need a guide. The rest you must do yourself, but if you feel you need to speak with me, think of me, and I will come if I can.”

  “But you told me before not to summon you.” Darien said. “You said the Demon King might notice it.”

  “I did, and he still might.” Ezra cracked a wry grin and raised his eyes from under his gray eyebrows. “But now you are the master of the Demon’s Blade. I do not believe he will seek a confrontation with you, either personally, or through his servants. Instead, I think he will avoid you if he can.”

  “You think he’s afraid, of me?” Darien asked, incredulous.

  “Oh he was always afraid. He was afraid of what you might become, so he sought to destroy you. Now, you have become exactly what he feared, a true master of the Demon’s Blade. The lion may hunt the wolf when it is yet a pup, but must respect its power once it is full grown.”

  Darien stared, wide eyed, still skeptical that his invincible Master could ever really be afraid of anything. He looked up into the sky to the east, blinked, and let out a long sigh. When he turned back to where Ezra had been, the old man was gone.

  Darien rubbed his head that now pulsed with steady pain. Damned headaches. He thought of waking Miri. Some part of him wanted to talk with her, just to talk with someone. His conversation with Ezra had been less enlightening than he had hoped. Ezra had always seemed to know everything, and that had given Darien considerable comfort. He had always gotten the sense that Ezra had helped him bear the burden of the Demon’s Blade. Now, as Ezra had said, he was the master of the blade. Darien felt both his burden, and his loneliness, acutely. He looked up at the sky and thought of Jerris, and his sister. He had so many things to tell them. Then he felt Miri’s aura a dozen yards away, calm and serene, sleeping in his bed, under the hill. It almost called to him, a disturbing sensation.

  A few moments later, the terrible vision of Rana flashed before his vision, not as real, not accompanied by the same terror, and not any image conjured by the invisible demons of the sword, but rather a warning from his own excessively cautious mind. Darien grumbled, shook his head, and started towards town. He had questions to ask his prisoner, and this time, he needed complete voluntary compliance.

  Chapter 27: A Change of Heart

  Miri awakened to an unfamiliar darkness. She usually woke with the sun streaming in her window, but not this morning. She detected a faint odor, faintly smoking embers of fire in a field of snow, and remembered where she was. The events of the previous day returned to her, and she sighed with contentment. To be finally and completely free of the fear that had ruled much of her life felt undeniably good. The idea of Zandrek sitting in a jail cell, defeated, humiliated, and broken actually warmed her spirit. She almost felt guilty for taking some small measure of satisfaction in another’s suffering, but after what Zandrek had put her and Zitane through, if anyone deserved it, he did.

  Miri pushed herself up and cast her gaze around the cave, looking for Darien, expecting he would be reading a book, fiddling with his trinkets, or mixing some unidentifiable ingredients in his array of glassware. Instead, she found the cave empty. She sat up and quickly got dressed, irritated that Darien had evidently left without waking her. I know we’re not really engaged, but does he have to act like I’m not even here? He is the most inconsiderate person I’ve ever met, just doing whatever he pleases without thinking of all the people who might be worried about him. He still has to have his treatment after all.

  Once dressed and ready, she charged out into the chilly morning, determined to give Darien a stern lecture on proper manners. A fog hung over the area, obscuring the view of Exire, a mile or two south. A dull rumble sounded to her left, and she turned to see Garok beginning to stand, his eyes still blinking groggily.

  “Garok, what are you doing here?”

  “Darien wanted me to let you know he would be in town. He seemed worked up about something.”

  “He couldn’t have told me himself?” Miri complained. “What’s so important that he couldn’t wait a few hours?”

  “Don’t know, but he looked serious,” Garok said. “He’s concerned about something.”

  Miri nodded and walked into town. The hour was still fairly early, and most of the town was asleep. She made her way to the lodge and found Darien, Zitane, Kellan, and Elira arguing a
bout something. Darien noticed her first, but something about his expression seemed wrong. He kept himself so poised and even, it was still difficult to tell, but Miri had spent countless hours healing him and talking to him over the past weeks, even when he didn’t much want her or anyone else’s company, and she had learned to read the miniscule signs of his emotion. His manner had changed, subtly, but noticeably, at least to Miri’s keen intuition. Her intuition told her that Darien looked rattled, worried as never before.

  Zitane looked up next. “Well there she is. Now we can ask her.”

  “Ask me what?” Miri asked.

  “Darien’s got it in his head that he wants to go find the place where we found you.” Zitane’s gaze whirled to the raven-haired mage who still looked decidedly too concerned. Something had changed. When she had gone to bed, Darien had seemed most concerned about these Shades and finding their base. Now he wanted to go visit the ruin where she had awakened nearly twenty years ago. Miri didn’t know what could possibly happen in the few hours of night, but something had. What could be more serious than a plot against the King of Catarina and the threat of a powerful mage order?

  “The Shades made it a point to have Zandrek show them the place, and they deemed it important enough to grant him favor. I want to know why, and it might shed some light on Mirisa’s true identity.”

  Miri suddenly remembered Zandrek’s interrogation from the previous day. ‘The Shades will not harm Mirisa Algalon.’ Those words echoed clearly in her mind. They had known her name, and they had been interested in the place where she had been found. The thought of learning who she really was both frightened and excited her.

  “Be that as it may,” Zitane drawled in increasingly frustrated long syllables, “I never was very good at navigation. I doubt I could even find the place again.”

  “I was not thinking of you,” Darien said. “We know one person who has successfully guided others to this ruin.”

  “Are you insane?” Zitane asked with pronounced shock. “After what you did to him, you think he’ll help you?”