by B. A. Scott
At that moment, Treäbu and Vega emerged from below deck.
“How goes it?” Treäbu asked, as he and Vega joined Dareic.
“Well enough,” said Dareic, then he leaned in toward Vega and whispered, “What does impertinent mean?”
“What?” Vega asked, not expecting the question.
“Never mind,” said Dareic, when he noticed Xado listening in. “What’s going on?”
“It’s time I told you what Ralian said just before we left the dock,” said Treäbu.
“Finally,” Dareic responded.
“Vexen!” Treäbu called out.
“What?” Dareic asked, outraged that Vexen would be included. “You’re telling her as well?”
“Easy, brother,” said the Skaelar. “Like it or not, she should hear this too.”
“And what about him?” Dareic asked, nodding to the Captain. Treäbu thought for a moment, scratching his temple.
“It might be interesting, actually, for you to hear a Marinean’s take on it,” he said. “He’s alright. But don’t put much stock in anything he tells you.”
At that moment, Vexen joined Treäbu by his side. “Yes?” she asked. “What is it?”
“There’s something we need to talk about,” Treäbu told her, then looked to Dareic. “All of us. You see, our mission to Kallenshar isn’t just to form an alliance with the Incinians.”
“It’s not?” asked Dareic.
“No,” said Treäbu. “Tell me, Dareic, how much do you know about the War of Ages?”
“It was—” Dareic tried to recall everything he’d ever been told about the war. As it was, he knew only a few details. “The Marineans and the Incinians against everyone else, right? Or, weren’t the Boreans neutral? And the Aeroli?”
“At first,” said Vega. “But after an attack on Mount Breyen, the Aeroli took a side.”
“Alright then,” Dareic proceeded, “what does any of this have to do with our mission?”
“To understand that,” said Treäbu, “you have to understand what started the war. Vega,” he looked to the Aerolus, “if you don’t mind.”
Vega nodded.
“In the beginning,” he said, “Sages used the Fountains’ gifts for their obvious reasons—Wave, to bring water and nourishment where there was none, Flame to bring heat and light in the darkest and coldest of nights. Magical experimentation was common, sure enough, but it was the Erygian Sage, Idonitus, who took the first great leap into deeply exploring the unlimited potential of a Sage’s blessing.
Idonitus journeyed to the other nations, sharing his discoveries with their Sages, trusting they would use his knowledge to build their societies in a fruitful manner. At first, such was how it was done. But eventually, after realizing they did not hold the amount of power Idonitus alone was capable of, some of the Sages combined their efforts to match his abilities. Together, Mizzen and Aleraea—the Marinean and Incinian Sages—created some of the most depraved and virile of enchantments the world had ever seen. They called it ‘testing the limits of their power.’
When Idonitus learned this, he condemned their actions. Declared them criminal, immoral and unethical. He refused to share any further discoveries with anyone, and denied even the most well-intended Sages and Enchanters access to the countless tomes and grimoires he’d scribed, for fear of how they would use the magic contained in their pages. Some thought it wise. Others accused him of being a hypocrite, as Idonitus, himself, had created deadly furenti as well.”
“Well, then he was a hypocrite,” said Dareic. “And what’s a grimoire?”
“A book of magical instruction,” Vega said. “Anyway, despite Idonitus’s discontent, Mizzen and Aleraea continued experimenting on their own, creating vile, terrible things. Not long after, the Incinians tapped the resources of the mountains in which they dwelt, which made them among the wealthiest of cultures in Adoran.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Dareic.
“Fire gems,” said Vega. “Until that time, the Incinians struggled with influence in the land. Their lives consisted of servile, menial labor. But the tides of time have a funny way of changing. Because of the centuries of experience in such work, they became quite skilled in their art. Soon, entire cities were erected by Incinian hands.
They amassed a fair amount of wealth from their commissions and labors. But it was only after the accumulation of their riches that they discovered the fortune beneath their feet. Volcanic activity, and an incredible earthquake revealed the fire gems under Kallenshar.” He paused, and stroked the red jewel upon his chest armor. “Blood-red earthstones of such beauty, the desire for them spread throughout the land like a brushfire. Centuries of starvation and servantile labor vanished as the Incinians began mining the precious gemstones.”
“Is that—that’s a fire gem?” Dareic asked. Vega nodded as Dareic reached to the stone, and brushed it lightly with his fingertips. To his surprise, it felt rather warm, like hot breath upon his flesh.
“They withdrew their services as builders,” said Vega, returning Dareic’s attention to the matter at hand, “but not before completing a very special project for the Erygians in Avenalora.”
“What was that?” asked Dareic.
“A grand junakothari—a massive chamber to hold the greatest collection of Idonitus’s dangerous furenti.
As time passed, each nation—save for the Tyken— raised an army. War was far from being declared, but each civilization claimed their own reasons for mustering their soldiers. Walls around cities were heightened. Drinking from each other’s fountains became less of a courtesy, and more of a privilege. Tensions grew, and trade suffered. Merchants raised prices, and added new costs for some races but not for others, which outraged the leaders of the nations, and birthed new prejudices across the land.
Then, the Marineans shocked the rest of the world when they declared the entire island of Marinar as their own, and expressed a desire for all other races to take their homes elsewhere. The reason for it, they expressed, was that their population was growing rapidly, and they already dominated the island. As you can imagine, an encroaching feeling spread throughout the land that the newly formed armies would be made useful very soon.
At the same time, Idonitus and the Incinian King, Lord Halavere, were overseeing the final construction stages of Avenalora’s grand junakothari. Upon its completion, one of the most powerful furenti it held disappeared. The world’s suspicions were instantly aimed directly at Halavere, though he swore his innocence of the supposed theft. Nevertheless, the world would henceforth refer to him as ‘Halavere, the Devious.’”
“Well, if Idonitus didn’t trust the Incinian Sage, it’s his own damned fault for trusting their King. Seems like he set himself up to be robbed.”
“It was a construction project,” Vega said. “Idonitus wouldn’t have placed the furenti within until its completion. And laid enchantments to protect it. Many believe Lord Halavere secretly included another way in.”
“A back door,” said Dareic. “Devious indeed.”
“Conjecture,” said Xado. “And lies.”
“Regardless, all trust between the Incinians and the other nations was broken. And Idonitus was determined to reclaim the stolen furentus. In the year 296, he led 5,000 Erygian warriors to the gates of Kallenshar to collect it. But when he arrived, he was met by more than just Lord Halavere.
The Incinian army stretched out before his own, and greatly outweighed his troops.
The War of Ages began that day. The world would never be the same.
However, before the floodgates of war opened completely, a great rally for peace was led by one man—a human ambassador—who sought to prevent the oncoming storm before it was too late.”
“Who was that?” asked Dareic.
“Genus Caladen,” said Vega. Dareic’s heart skipped a beat. “But the life and legacy of your ancestor is another story for another time. In the end, his efforts failed. The world was destined for war. Not long af
ter the attack on Kallenshar, the Incinians and Marineans announced their union.”
“Why did they ally with each other?” Dareic asked.
“Their interests were the same,” said Vega. “Seclusion.”
“And power,” added Treäbu. Xado scoffed at the comment.
“True,” Vega continued, “once united, they realized the magnitude of their combined strength. They found they could take entire cities, and with them, whatever treasures lay inside. Junakothari were discovered and raided. Furenti changed countless owners countless times during the war. Some were destroyed. Others were re-hidden and never found again.”
“What about the one the Incinian King stole?” Dareic asked.
“No one has seen it since its disappearance,” said Vega. “Think about it, Dareic. If the Incinians were to ever use it, the world would know they started the war. They’d be blamed, beyond question, for causing years of death and strife.”
“Right,” Dareic said. “So this Lord Halavere takes—whatever he took—and never gets to use it? What’s the point, then? Why steal it in the first place?”
“So the Erygians wouldn’t have it,” said Treäbu.
“And what exactly was it—this thing that stirred up so much trouble?” Dareic asked.
“It was called ‘the Gauntlet of Wrath.’”
“And what did it do?” asked Dareic.
“That, I do not know,” said Vega. “But with such a name, I think it’s fair to assume it wasn’t too pleasant a thing.”
“Okay,” said Dareic. “So, I ask again. What the bloody hell does any of this have to do with our mission?”
Vega and Treäbu didn’t immediately respond.
“See if you can work it out for yourself. What started the War?” Treäbu said at last. Dareic recalled the account he’d just been given about the War of Ages. His mind raced. Then, he remembered what prompted Idonitus’s first offense.
“The Gauntlet?” he asked. “Ralian wants the Gauntlet?”
Treäbu nodded slowly.
“Are you serious!?” Dareic exclaimed, thinking his own presumption too ludicrous to possibly be true.
“If the Incinians ally with us, they could provide an incredible weapon against Daro’s forces,” said Treäbu. “All we have to do is convince them to—”
“To what!?” Dareic interrupted. “Admit to thievery they haven’t confessed to in centuries? Then what? Hand the Gauntlet of Wrath over to us like a hot cake? Ralian’s lost his mind, Treäbu! He doesn’t even know what it does! Convincing the Incinians to fight is gonna be hell enough on its own. How does Ralian expect us to—” he trailed off, shaking his head in defiance.
“You’ll never succeed in that,” Xado entered the conversation. All heads turned to him. “I didn’t think your little errand could seem any more pointless until I just heard all that rabble.”
“You know, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually agree with him,” Dareic said, nodding to the Captain.
“You think we’re doomed to fail?” Treäbu asked Xado. “Why? Because the Incinians will never admit to taking the Gauntlet?”
“No,” said Xado. “Because they don’t have it.”
“Bollucks,” said Treäbu. “Everyone knows they do. If ever there was a time to confess—”
“Your little history lesson had a few holes in it,” Xado interrupted. Treäbu sneered at being stifled, but yielded to the Marinean. “And a few too many opinions substituted for fact, if you ask me,” said Xado. “Oh sure, it paints the villains very well—selfish Marineans and thieving Incinians and all. But Idonitus wasn’t this shepherd of peace you made him out to be.”
“Oh no?” asked Dareic.
“No. He framed the Incinians. He needed a reason to attack Kallenshar, so he could lay claim to their precious fire gems. Someone was devious, alright. But it wasn’t Lord Halavere. It was Idonitus—the greediest bastard of them all.” Xado paused, reading the uncertainty in Dareic’s eyes. “That’s right, boy,” he continued, “the Erygians started the war. And that’s the dirty, rotten truth of it.”
“That’s your truth of it,” Treäbu spoke. “Dareic, I know it won’t be easy, but—”
“That’s not all,” the Captain cut Treäbu short again.
“Good night, would you stop interrupting me!?” Treäbu snapped quickly.
“Fine,” said Xado, brushing his hands of the conversation. “Get yourselves thrown out of Kallenshar. Less trouble for me. And the sooner I’m rid of your lot, the better.”
Treäbu kept quiet, suddenly curious as to what the Marinean would have told them.
“Why would we get thrown out of Kallenshar?” Dareic asked. Xado paused, establishing the point that his information was critical, and could very well determine the group’s success. “Captain, please,” Dareic pressed him.
“The Incinians banish anyone who mentions the Gauntlet of Wrath,” Xado said at last. “It’s a rather touchy subject. After the war, they felt like outcasts—shunned by the outside world. If you inquire about the Gauntlet, they’ll drag you out the gates of Kallenshar, and never let you return.”
Dareic looked Treäbu straight in the eye, as if to say, “we shouldn’t even be considering this.” But Treäbu stared back, with an equally defiant expression.
Suddenly, a shriek sounded from the skies above. Everyone’s head jolted upward, searching for the terrifying sound’s origin.
“There!” said Vega. “Fated!” He pointed off the port bow to a distant cluster of dark specks in the sky.
“Vega, what can you see?” Treäbu asked. “Are they flying toward us? Or away?”
“Away,” said the Aerolus. “Let’s hope they have a greater purpose than attacking every merchant vessel they spy from above.”
“Captain,” Dareic addressed Xado, “do you have anything on board we can defend ourselves with?”
Xado nodded. “I’ve knives, swords, nets, and some harpoons below deck,” he said.
“They’re not turning back,” Vega said, watching as the cluster of Fated slowly disappeared into the distance. “I think we’re safe.”
“But they still might have seen us,” said Xado. “They know these trade routes, they do. I’ve heard stories of Fated tracking merchant vessels, and attacking under cover of night.” He looked to Vexen suspicously. “How much do you trust this she-demon you’ve brought on board?” he asked the others. “Would she signal her kindred behind your backs? Draw them here?”
“I want to be as far away from those Fated as possible,” Vexen spoke defensively. She glanced back to the sky, a horrified expression spreading across her face.
“I’m pretty sure we were far enough away,” Treäbu told her. “I don’t think they saw you.”
“I know,” Vexen said. “But even if they didn’t see me, I fear what happened with the one that did.”
“What?” Treäbu asked, needing a little more clarification.
“The one I chased—on our way to port,” Vexen told him. “The one that got away.”
* * * * *
Lord Daro meditated from on high, maskless, in the council chamber of the Adorcenn Tower. Below, his forces swelled in number across the barren plains. Their presence multiplied with each passing moon as more and more poured in from the Wastelands.
Hadaan and Dexius marveled at their brethren from the chamber’s windows, and behind them, Finwynn still hung suspended in the air by holdings of Daro’s magic.
Daro heard a swooshing sound behind him, and turned to see a Fated One fly into the council chamber through its open doors. The Fated flapped its bat-like wings to slow its speed, then landed in a crouch in the center of the chamber, panting, and moist with sweat.
“My Lord,” said the Fated. Daro eyed his winged soldier as he stepped toward it. He then looked to Finwynn, who hovered not far from the kneeling demon. The Dark Lord at first appeared wary of the Sage overhearing what news the Fated One might divulge, but after a moment, Daro’s reservations left him,
as he entirely believed the Sage could never break his bonds. As such, whatever information he overheard would never leave the council chamber.
“Scapses,” Daro spoke. “Speak.”
“I’ve come from Skaelwood,” said the Fated. “My patrol set a trap, and ambushed a company of Skaelar heading to port.” It paused for a moment, fearful of how Daro would react to what it would say next. “During the attack, I saw something that froze my heart. Something you’ve been searching for for some time now. Forgive me, my Lord, it is most distasteful news.”
“Speak it,” Daro commanded.
“Your daughter, Vexen, travels with the Skaelar,” said the Fated, scornfully, its head still bowed.
“What!?” asked Daro. “You saw her!? With your own eyes!?”
“I did. I could not tell if the Skaelar had taken her prisoner, or if she walked freely among them, but she was not bound.”
Hadaan’s and Dexius’s eyes filled with rage. Daro’s hands clenched into fists.
“Did you capture her?” asked the Dark Lord.
“No,” said Scapses. “The Skaelar Sage was with them. He saw to our defeat. I chose to escape with this news, rather than risk death in an attempt to seize your daughter amidst the ambush. I did not believe I could have taken her alone, and the information was too precious.”
Daro took a deep breath in through his nostrils, absorbing the news.
“Dexius,” he spoke at last. “Call off the search for Vexen in the Megalian Wastelands.”
“Yes, Father,” said Dexius. “Should I have Fated scour the realm of Skaelwood?”
“Your reports claim she’s already bested three Fated,” Daro said. “Capturing her is proving futile, especially now that she travels with protection.”
“We could take her when we attack Skaelwood, Father,” Dexius proposed.
“If she’s even there,” Hadaan reasoned. “All we know is that she’s heading to port. They could be taking her anywhere.”
Dexius cast his brother a scowl for his logic.
“Perhaps she is lost then,” Daro said. “Beyond our reach.”
“She must answer for her crimes,” Dexius stressed. “I can’t believe you’d just let her slither away.”