The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 01 - Elseerian

by Ben Hale

  "Whoa, hold on a minute," she said, putting her hand up to forestall his questions. "My name is Siarra, but the rest of your questions will be a bit harder to answer, so give me a moment." She turned towards the group of elven warriors and asked, "May I ask your captain’s name?"

  Denithir stepped forward. "Denithir Lorosian, Arch Captain of the First Legion," he responded with a short, formal bow.

  Her tone turned firm and authoritative. "We must leave immediately. He won't take long to realize that the old elf he killed was just an illusion. I'm afraid we are still in danger—even here."

  "He could find us in the swamp?" Denithir asked, surprised.

  "I believe he could find someone anywhere—and he will never give up," she responded in the same matter-of-fact tone, as if a proficient killer hunting her didn’t bother her at all. “If we stay here, he will find us in a few hours and then strike from the shadows. His skill—” She nodded towards Taryn. “—is the only reason he left before. This time he will pick us off more carefully—if he can find us. We must flee.”

  "Where can we go, then?" Denithir asked.

  "We can take a trail west from here until we leave the swamp. It's not far. Then we must hasten to Azertorn. Perhaps we may find refuge that far west."

  Denithir nodded and began issuing crisp orders, but abruptly stopped and looked around. "Where's the thief?" he demanded.

  Taryn had forgotten all about Jack Myst when they'd rushed into the Oracle’s home. Casting his eyes about, he searched for him in vain. One of the elves stepped forward, his eyes on the ground. "He disappeared somewhere in the Oracle’s gardens. When the warning was given, I took my eyes off him for a moment, and when I looked back he was gone."

  "Was he securely bound?" Denithir demanded.

  The elf nodded in response and answered in a small voice, "I don't know how he did it, Captain. I tied the knots myself, and I have never seen them bested."

  Taryn chuckled, drawing everyone's eyes to him. "Don't worry about Jack. I believe he could have escaped at any time. He only stuck around because he was curious about us." Taryn watched as Denithir frowned; then nodded and continued with his instructions. He sighed in relief. He desperately wanted to talk to Siarra and knew it wouldn’t happen until they were on the move.

  Within moments the group organized itself under their captain's firm leadership and headed back across the swamp with Siarra as their guide. Taryn and Liri stayed close behind her as they all attempted to follow in her footsteps. Every so often someone would slip off the hidden path, but there was always one quick to grab them before they could sink into the muck.

  Taryn couldn’t settle his mind, and he kept twitching in an effort to keep his pace even. It felt like a fever had taken hold of his head while his mind buzzed with the enlightening information that Siarra, his . . . sister—he struggled to wrap his mind around the new concept—had given him. Unfortunately, the tantalizing bits of information presented far more questions than answers. For one thing, who was his father and why did they have different fathers? The brief moments when he'd gotten a chance to look at her had not been enough to determine much about her, especially in the darkness. How much older was she? How did she know about him?

  Liri brushed against him in a not so subtle manner, and her soft touch went a long way towards helping him be patient, but it was maddening to have the truth literally in front of him, and still have to wait.

  Luckily, it only took thirty minutes to reach the swamp’s edge. The moment they were on dry ground among the trees of Orláknia, Taryn moved to walk beside Siarra—who also fell back beside him.

  Siarra spoke first. "Do you mind if I start at the beginning? I promise when I am done you can ask any questions I have not answered." She glanced sideways at him to watch his response.

  Taryn nodded readily, eager to hear anything she had to share.

  "Our mother's name was Ianna"—Taryn sighed in relief when she said her name—"and she was the previous Oracle. I guess the story begins about fifty years ago, before I was born. I am not sure if you are aware, but the Oracle's husband is chosen by the elven guild of magic. It is always an elf with tremendous magical power that is chosen and it is a great honor. My father was chosen from among the guild and sent to Orláknia to be joined to our mother. She soon conceived and, as is customary, had a girl. Of course, I was to be the next Oracle."

  For some reason Taryn could sense irritation as she proclaimed her birthright. Was it something she did not want?

  She sighed. "Unfortunately, my father was not a very good elf, despite his magical ability. He frequently . . . visited . . . with other elf maids and traveled whenever he had an excuse. He was careful to keep his exploits secret, but our mother knew. If nothing had changed, I believe our mother would still be alive today, but without hope of life, or love, to brighten her existence.

  "Around this time a certain man came to see her. He was a troubled individual and came seeking guidance, as men are prone to do with their brief lives. Despite his problems, strength and virtue were two of his greatest qualities. His name was Mazer."

  Taryn let out the breath he realized he'd been holding but made no sound, not wanting her to stop.

  "Our mother took a liking to this man and the man felt something in turn, but it is expressly forbidden for an Oracle to deviate from her given path. Despite this, Mazer visited often, always with questions and issues for her to help him solve. I was still young at this time, barely twenty, but I could see she was falling in love with him. I encouraged her to see him more." Her voice softened. "I wanted her to be happy."

  "Who was my father and why was he troubled?" Taryn interrupted.

  She frowned at his interruption. "I was getting to that. Have some patience, little brother." Shaking her head, she smiled to take the sting from her words. "First I have to describe what your father looked like. He was enormously strong but short for a human, and he had red hair." She looked at him with an amused expression. "Much like yours, anyway. The truth is he was half dwarf and half human."

  Taryn heard a gasp and then a low tinkling laugh from behind him as Liri overheard his ancestry. She smothered it quickly and went quiet, but he knew she would have things to say about it later.

  Siarra looked at him again with a soft expression. "I believe you have a great deal of him in you, at least in looks, but I am curious if you have his dwarven attributes of endurance and strength."

  Before Taryn could respond, Liri caught up to them and proclaimed in a serious tone, "He is unmatched in either category, against human, elf, or dwarf."

  "Really?" Siarra's eyes sparkled with interest. "Interesting . . . very interesting . . ." She trailed off with a faraway look.

  Jumping to avoid the conversation shifting to another topic, he asked, "So how exactly did my father and our mother end up together? I mean, I thought you said it was forbidden, and why isn't it allowed?"

  She shook her head to clear her thoughts and returned to her story. "It is not allowed because if an Oracle becomes pregnant a second time, she loses the ability to see energy—and therefore cannot use magic anymore. She stops being the Oracle."

  "Did she know this before she got pregnant with me?" Taryn asked, shocked that his mother would give up her abilities to have another child.

  "Yes, but let me back up." She pursued her lips and continued where she'd left off. "It didn’t take long before our mother tired of my father's behavior and decided to leave with Mazer. One night she was there, and the next . . . she was gone. You cannot imagine the uproar her disappearance caused amongst the elves. Never before has an Oracle run away. Search parties were sent out, and not just from the elves. Many people wanted to have her back. Once every month or so someone caught up to them, but it didn’t matter. She was too powerful and he was too strong a fighter. No one could force them to return." A ghost of a smile spread across her features as she recalled the story. Then her face grew somber again.

  "One night she secretly returned t
o visit me. She told me they had decided to have a baby and that she wanted me to know that it didn’t diminish how much she loved me. I was furious with her but at the same time glad she was doing something that would finally bring her joy. That was the last time I saw her."

  No one spoke for several minutes as they walked through the dark forest, both thinking about long past events.

  Taryn broke the silence. "So how did you know it was me?"

  “The ability to see and feel energy is enhanced with individuals that I know well, or that I am related to. I have felt your presence for a few weeks now.” She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "Have you been taught about magic and the Oracle?"

  "Briefly,” he admitted, “I know that magic comes from existing energy within a substance, and that the user has the ability to see that energy and manipulate it. I also know that each race has different kinds of magic that they predominantly use. Light, plant, and water for elves, fire and stone for dwarves, animal and earth for humans, and so forth. The Oracle”— he nodded towards her—“can see all types of energy and can use all types of magic.”

  She smiled in approval. "Very good, but allow me to fill in some holes in your education." She furrowed her brow and her tone took on a lecturing ring. "Many individuals can see energy but cannot manipulate it. Fire is a perfect example. Humans can see the flame but cannot manipulate it. A dwarven cleric will see the flame and can cause it to do his bidding, such as stoke it or weaken it, without adding or removing fuel. The better the magician and the more training they’ve had, the more they can do. Essentially, they draw upon heat in the surrounding environment to increase the flame."

  She lifted an arm and wrapped her fingers into a fist, then opened her fingers like a flower and a small flame burst into life within her cupped hand. "More advanced users can create fire from heat, adding only a spark of energy. This particular flame comes from the heat within the surrounding air and my own body."

  She let him watch the speck of light for a moment before extinguishing it. "Some types of magic are easier than others. Anything fluid, such as light, fire, water, or air, is easier to manipulate. Stone or earth, on the other hand, take a great deal more training because the energy within them is contained in their form and structure. If a dwarf can move even a small amount of stone, he is a great mage."

  She reached out with her hand facing palm down. In a sweeping gesture she flipped her palm upward, bringing a piece of earth out of the ground in front of her. It lifted in a column about the thickness of his arm but continued to move in front of her, sliding along the ground.

  "Notice that this pillar of earth still touches the ground. If I try to take it off the ground," she lifted her hand higher and the column lifted off the ground, disintegrating into dust in an instant, "it can't hold its form."

  Two questions occurred to him. "Why didn’t you fight Death with magic? And when did you train with a sword?"

  She was already nodding as he asked the questions but paused to step over a large root in the trail before answering, "A young oracle has power and ability, but does not reach her full potential until she comes of age, turning fifty years old. At that time, on her birthday, she is unbound and the full extent of her abilities return." She blinked and shook her head, understanding flashing across her features. “That is why he attacked today."

  "What?" Taryn asked, not following her meaning.

  "My birthday is in two days. Whoever sent the assassin sent him now before I came of age because I wouldn’t be powerful enough to defeat him with magic. He will do everything he can to destroy me before that moment."

  Confused, Taryn asked, "But doesn’t he think the Oracle was your illusion of the older woman on the throne?”

  "Then, yes. Now . . . I’m not sure. As soon as Death entered our chamber he went after the false oracle rather than me. I doubt he was instructed any further than to kill the Oracle, and an old blind elf is what most people think of as an oracle. He will certainly return to confirm a kill of this importance and when he does . . .”

  She shook her head at the impending result and added. “He would have eventually found me and destroyed me if you hadn’t arrived and fought so well.” She inclined her head towards him, “Thank you for that by the way.”

  Taryn nodded, “Anytime.” Then his expression turned serious. “But something tells me you will return the favor before this is done.”

  She chuckled without humor. “Unfortunately that is probably true—unless he catches us before I come of age. That is why we are running. I will not be strong enough to defeat him until after my unbinding."

  "There might be another way . . .," Taryn mused aloud. He glanced back at Liri and she stepped to join the two of them. As soon as she was close enough to hear, he said, "When I fought him, I learned a few things."

  Siarra looked intensely curious, and Liri’s expression matched hers.

  "He has just about my skill on speed, strength, or technique with a weapon, and if those were the only factors I honestly don't know who would emerge victorious . . . but I believe my father's Katsana is more powerful than his weapon . . ."

  "Why?" Liri asked beside him.

  He shrugged, "Early on I tried to smash my blade through the shaft of his scythe, but he managed to deflect it off at an angle. It still took a chunk with it though. I also think Death knew he couldn’t take a straight blow because he didn’t give me another opportunity to strike his weapon straight on."

  Liri nodded, confident in Taryn's skill, but Siarra looked doubtful.

  "If he knows he has a weakness, he won't be likely to expose it for any reason, unless you think you could force him to open himself up . . .?" she said, then seeing his unsure expression she shook her head. "No, I think we must keep that as a last resort."

  A sudden shout came from behind them and all three of them turned to see that Denithir had stopped everyone for some reason. They were quick to join him and caught the end of his quietly furious question.

  "—want to know who saw Kryll last? And who else is missing?"

  No one responded, but quite a few cast furtive looks into the dank forest.

  Taryn did a quick head count and was surprised to see only sixteen people huddled together. He counted again to be sure, but got the same result. Where were the other nine?

  Ren spoke up, "Kiest is also missing."

  Another elf added, "Glyn and Tari are gone, too."

  "By Skorn, what happened to them?!" Denithir hissed.

  Siarra answered his question in a grim tone, "Death has found us . . . and he's been picking us off one by one."

  Fear gripped each member of the group as realization finally dawned. The assassin had hunted them, a highly alert and battle-ready elven patrol, and still managed to kill nine of their group without a single person noticing. When had they been taken? Somewhere in the forest? The swamp?

  Taryn's spine tingled as he covertly checked the darkness around them, knowing the killer was nearby and probably watching them for another opportunity to strike. He knew exactly what Death would be doing—stalking them and silently taking out anybody that wasn’t being watched, whittling them down to nothing.

  Denithir swore under his breath and barked, "Partner up, and don't leave your partner for anything. Taryn and Liri, protect the Oracle. We cannot afford to lose her."

  The surviving elves began marching again, but their confidence was shaken. A ruthless and deadly killer followed them, and they knew they were no match for him. Each elf huddled next to his partner as if proximity to another person would ward off Death's strike, but their efforts proved to be in vain.

  Six more elves disappeared before dawn.

  Chapter 23: The Ravine

  Beleaguered and exhausted, the ten survivors finally stopped at the edge of a deep ravine about a mile from Orláknia. Each member of the group had been awake for over eighteen hours, and the constant strain and lack of rest was beginning to take a toll on everyone except Taryn.

  "
Lucky dwarven dog," Liri grumbled, sitting down in a huff and leaning against a tree in the small stand where they had taken shelter around noon.

  He shrugged at her. "It's not my fault I can go longer than you." He'd said it with an attempt at humor despite their grim situation, and Liri smiled weakly in acknowledgement.

  Denithir appeared beside him and asked, "Taryn, can you take watch for the afternoon while everyone gets some sleep? I don't think our assassin will attack during daylight, and not here where we could see him coming, but still . . ."

  Taryn looked at the elven captain. Denithir’s face was drawn and bathed in a sheen of sweat, but his mouth was set in a firm line to hold his emotions in check. It was a good thing he was managing to hide his despair, or his soldiers would have lost all semblance of courage. It was evident, however, that he keenly felt the death of each member of his command.

  He wasn’t the only one.

  Over the last week Taryn had gotten to know quite of few of them, Kryll in particular. Now most of them were gone, and their bodies lay somewhere behind them. It made him angry to think of leaving them like that, but Denithir had made the tough decision to keep moving. Now as he looked at the elven captain and Ren behind him, he realized they could both be dead by nightfall, leaving their children fatherless.

  It was a life he knew far too well.

  Suddenly Taryn realized he hadn’t answered Denithir’s request. "No problem captain," he said with a solemn nod, knowing that he'd been asked because he was the only one capable of remaining alert. Elves were not known for their endurance.

  Denithir nodded tiredly and turned away. Watching him go, Taryn again felt the grizzled warrior’s pain. Three quarters of his hand-picked and elite fighters had been killed in a single night by an invisible and far superior hunter, one by one disappearing without a trace. A capable and determined warrior such as Denithir had faced countless desperate fights and still emerged victorious, but this was different. His soldiers were being slaughtered like cattle . . . and he was helpless to save them.