The Rising Past: Book 2 in The Keepers of the Orbs Series

by J. G. Gatewood

  Norlun motioned for the conclave to get into position, which would take time, as it required them to form a large circle surrounding the battle. The weather paused, which created confusion. The only people who didn’t stop in a confused state were the wizards who had a clear and concise plan. Norlun nodded to Tholas, the Elf tasked with commanding the wizards who weren’t using the orbs, signaling for them to begin attacking with their sparks to draw the attack away from Norlun and the other orb bearers.

  The old man smiled as this created even more confusion, aided by a trembling of the ground as a small earthquake hit, sending troops to the mud-soaked field. Norlun stumbled, but kept his eyes on his target. Martul issued gruff commands as he tried to get his troops in position. His face didn’t reveal much, but Norlun thought he could see the smallest sign Martul might be questioning his own actions.

  Norlun watched and waited as he crawled closer to his enemy. He weaved his way through the soldiers fighting on the field, doing his best to conceal his position. He thought the others weren’t yet in position, but he drew too close to Martul so he slowed his pace. Norlun watched the last of the seven orb bearers arrive at their positions. He looked over his shoulder and saw his trusted apprentice, Turl, right at his heels. “Hand me the orb,” he ordered.

  Turl obliged and gave the orb to Norlun. He needed to watch and protect his master, and would do it at all costs.

  Norlun grabbed the orb and felt the flow of energy fill his body. He felt powerful, as if he could take on Martul alone, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t. To complete the task, all eight of the wizards would need to join their powers to one another. Norlun himself would be responsible for harnessing all of the powers into a single formidable force. He held the orb in his right hand, and his staff in his left. He raised his staff and fired a single bolt of fire into the air. This signaled the others that he would open himself up so they could join sparks. It also signified there would be no going back as the shot of fire drew the attention of Martul, who now focused his attention on the old wizard.

  Norlun reached deep down and opened his spark. It would be a vulnerable time, but they had practiced forming the circle for the last few weeks and had become quite adept at doing it quickly. The unique experience filled him, as the consciousness of the others joined his own. One-by-one he began to feel the full force of their power. They had not practiced with the orbs and it almost felt overwhelming.

  Filled with the true power of their joined circle, Norlun looked ready to enter the battle… but something didn’t feel right. He probed each of the minds and ascertained they were missing one. He felt a sudden shock of worry when he realized he couldn’t feel Alassa. He looked toward her position and saw several soldiers attacking her. He didn’t risk wasting any energy on helping her, but screamed for Turl to do something. His apprentice sent fireballs in her direction.

  Turl, having saved Alassa, turned toward his master to see a large mass of blue energy. He ran in front of Norlun and erected a shield. He arrived at just the right instant to protect Norlun, but his shield couldn’t protect him and the energy ripped through his body. Turl disintegrated into a pile of dust as Norlun watched from behind.

  The second Alassa joined and completed the circle, the weather and storms disappeared, transforming back into the normal temperate and humid climate from earlier in the day. Clarity and calm filled Norlun. He felt as though he could see down to the very makeup of the ground. The blades of grass, a crisp and vibrant shade of green, the lush soil below the grass teaming with life, and the flutter of the small translucent wings on insects filling the air, felt all too real to him. He felt awe spread through him, and it happened in a matter of seconds.

  What am I doing? Norlun thought. He shifted his attention back to Martul, whose eyes were large as he slowed his charge.

  In his confusion, Martul ordered his troops to attack and the battle once again resumed. He shot a large wall of fire toward Norlun.

  The old wizard chuckled inside. He put up a shield, which moved toward the fireball. It collided with the burning mass and sent it back in the other direction. Simultaneously, he tore apart the ground near hundreds of soldiers, creating a large gap. Many of them fell through the gap to their own demise. He saw several of his own troops meet the same fate. He would have to be careful with his next attack so he didn’t create more collateral damage than was necessary.

  It amazed him how he could think so quickly and focus on so many different tasks all at once. He started to grow comfortable with the increased power and would have to be cautious, or he could risk falling into the same trap he tried to avoid with the other wizards. With great power came temptation—a temptation too great for any one wizard to control. Whenever one of the other seven wizards came under attack, he sensed it and took matters into his own hands to protect the wizard, as well as the circle. This had to be the most fun he could ever remember. A sort of giddiness passed through him as the kinetic energy pulsated within. He continued his attack on the soldiers, sparing the lives of his allies, as he walked closer to Martul. Norlun felt a deep sense of pride as fear filled his enemy’s face. Martul tried a strike of lightning, which Norlun dissipated.

  Looking scared and defeated, Martul switched to a different tactic. He now used his spark to send inanimate objects toward the old man. This seemed like child’s play to Norlun as he brushed them aside. He glanced to check on the battle. His own attacks appeared to be making a difference—Havenbrook’s forces had gained the advantage. He turned toward Martul, satisfied thus far.

  Norlun smiled when he saw Martul abandoning his spark, his only advantage, and had instead pulled out his large two-handed sword. “Surrender to us, and you won’t be harmed. You won’t have an easy life, but at least you won’t die.”

  Martul guffawed. “Surrender? To you?” His boldness filled his voice. “What makes you think you can defeat me when all others have failed? I will let you wear down your spark and when you are at your weakest, I will attack. There will be no surrender today.”

  Norlun had expected it and smiled. “Very well. Never say I didn’t give you an opportunity.” He looked around and laughed. “Look around you. My troops have the advantage and you have no idea what is happening. I’m joined with the others. Our sparks are one, and we are far more powerful than even you, Martul.” The old man grinned from ear-to-ear as dawning filled his enemy’s face. “I will give you one last chance. Surrender, or face the circle.”

  Martul made his decision by attempting to flee. Without even thinking about it, Norlun entangled his enemy’s body in flows from their combined spark. It immobilized him, freezing him in place. The next enchantments were again above Norlun’s level, but they came to him in rapid succession, as if someone else were controlling him

  Martul suddenly spun and rose into the air, surrounded and supported by several multi-colored tendrils. Seeing the current fate of their master, many of Martul’s remaining soldiers dropped their weapons and tried to flee.

  Martul howled in pain as energy ripped through his body. His skin started to bubble and crackle as Norlun focused more and more energy toward him. Slowly Martul’s skin began to fall off—more accurately, it appeared to melt off. He howled and shrieked in agony.

  Norlun almost took a step back. He had no idea what to expect, but this wasn’t it. After all of the skin fell off, a different being hovered in front of him. The man—a more accurate word would be creature—had red glistening skin as if it were wet. It had a large bulbous head with four horns sticking out of the top, large claws stretched from its fingertips, with large fire-red eyes, a long curling tail, and stood ten feet tall.

  A yellow light shot up from one of the orbs off in the distance, followed by a blue from another orb, then red, then green. One-by-one, light shot up from each of the orbs making up the circle, finishing with a bright white light from the orb Norlun held in his arms. They looked like large pillars stretching up to the heavens. The tendrils of energy continued to grow and sur
round the creature formerly known as Martul.

  The yellow pillar of light exploded. Norlun felt somewhat weakened and watched as the creature became transparent. Each of the lights exploded in their own turn, in the same order they had appeared. With each explosion, Norlun could feel his strength leaving him as the creature grew ever more transparent.

  When all seven had exploded, only the white pillar remained. Norlun could barely stand, and he realized for the first time he could no longer feel the presence of the other wizards. He pondered this for a moment while he fought to stay on his feet. He looked at the creature who he could see through now. It appeared as a large vague shadow—ten feet tall— floating in a ball in front of him.

  Norlun slumped from his feet and fell to the ground. A bright, searing light suddenly blinded him and sent a wave of pain through his own body as a shockwave exploded, spreading throughout the valley. Norlun lay slack and unconscious where he fell.

  The soldiers brought themselves back to their feet, recovering from the shockwave. A loud cheer rang through the valley when they realized they had defeated Martul at long last. It lasted but a second when the soldiers spotted Norlun on the ground. The once raucous valley sat somber and quiet.

  Picking up the Pieces

  Norlun opened his eyes. Several soldiers helped him to his feet. He could barely stand; his arms and legs trembled and he had no energy. He felt drained. He looked the part too. He had entered the battle an old man, well into his sixtieth year, but everything changed. His outward appearance looked to be of a ninety year old. When the last pillar of light exploded, it had filled him with information and knowledge. He had a complete understanding of what they had done, and what it meant for the rest of his life. Good or bad, right or wrong, he couldn’t change what had happened, and he had to live with it.

  A tear ran down from his eye, as he understood what they had created, and what the repercussion of their actions would be. The seven wizards forming the circle were gone. They weren’t dead—in a normal sense—but they might as well have been. They sacrificed themselves to see Martul brought down, and now remained trapped in each of their orbs. He felt saddened, after all, these were his biggest allies and closest friends, and now they were lost to the orbs.

  The eighth and final orb had disappeared. The energy and knowledge contained within became a part of Norlun, as if he had become the eighth orb. He would never age and would live out all of his years as the protector of the orbs. He now understood the seven remaining orbs were the keys holding Martul prisoner in another plane of existence.

  He focused his eyes and looked out over the field of battle. Dead bodies lay everywhere in lakes of sludge and blood. He took a second to thank everyone who gave their life to save the world. It only lasted a moment, though, as thunder crashed and brought him back to reality. Because he released his control on the orbs, their supernatural effect on the climates returned. He knew he needed to act fast.

  He motioned for a couple of apprentices to come over. “I have an important job for both of you. The unnatural weather is caused by the seven orbs in close proximity to one another. I need to transport them out of here. I can place two together without any harm, so I will need to make several trips. Before I can do this, I need you to collect all seven of them and bring them to me. While I am transporting them, you will need to protect the rest at all costs.” They nodded their heads in acknowledgement. Norlun looked to the field of battle again and noticed most of the enemy troops were either dead, had retreated, or were well subdued. You could never be too careful, though.

  He waited for the two apprentices to collect the orbs as snowflakes began to fall from the sky. He grabbed the first two and thought of his home in Riverfell. Using the extra power the orbs provided, he created a portal which flashed into existence and displayed the living room of his home. He walked through, ignoring the odd sensation as he became more and more accustomed to it, and stood in his home. He moved to his sleeping quarters and placed both of the orbs in his closet. He uttered an incantation to seal the room so no one could enter it. He reached into his closet and touched one of the orbs, creating a portal back to the valley.

  The snow had stopped, but was replaced by hurricane-force winds and sleet. He walked through the portal and felt the icy pricks of the frozen rain, as if hundreds of tiny needles assaulted his skin all at once. Even though the pain grew unbearable, a smile crossed his face as he noticed any and all available apprentices stood watch over the collected orbs. He hid them all, before returning back to the valley.

  The elements returned to normal. Norlun looked to the sky and basked in the heat offered by the bright sun off to the west. He looked across the field and spotted King Wilros who appeared to be overseeing the soldier’s efforts to retrieve the Havenbrook dead. Norlun made his way through the thick, blood-covered grass to stand at the king’s side.

  Wilros offered a painful smile as he spotted the old wizard. “I would like to say well done, Norlun, but I’m afraid today’s events don’t leave much to be celebrated—other than the removal of Martul, that is. When we set about our task, I never expected the cost to be so steep. With the exception of you, all of our elder wizards are dead.”

  The king looked at the piles of dead bodies, before glancing at the two remaining orbs. “What is your plan now? I mean, now that Martul is…well I don’t know where he is, but I do know he is gone.”

  Norlun laughed. “I didn’t know what to expect when we used the orbs either. However, I now have a complete understanding.” He left out the fact the eighth orb had merged with his own body. He figured it would be a conversation for another day. “The orbs teleported him to another realm where he is imprisoned and cannot bother us.”

  King Wilros looked skeptical. “There are no guarantees in life. How can we be sure he will stay in this alternate realm?”

  “I would be skeptical too, but as part of the process we used to trap him, knowledge flowed into me. The orbs are now the key to ensuring Martul stays in his prison.” Comprehension filled the king’s face. Norlun relaxed when he saw the ruler grasp the concept and he continued, “Because we can never have more than two orbs together at a time anyway—given how it affects the weather—I have already split them up and sent them to different, random locations.”

  At the mention of random, the king’s brow furrowed. “Where did you send them? I mean, are they safe?”

  “I assure you, they are quite safe for the time being.” He needed to keep the final locations a secret even from the king. “Although their locations cannot be a permanent solution, I haven’t come up with how I’m going to ensure their enduring seclusion just yet. I planned to create a portal back to Havenbrook. You are welcome to accompany me, if you wish. Once there, I will begin formulating a viable long-term plan to secure their safety.”

  The king nodded his head in agreement. “By all means, lead the way.”

  Norlun turned back toward the apprentices and the two remaining orbs. As he drew nearer he couldn’t help but notice the changes in them. The energy swirling inside looked more vibrant and mixed with streaks of white. The wooden structure of the orbs appeared more aged and weathered. Just like the old wizard, they appeared to have aged. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before.

  He issued orders to the apprentices to oversee the cleanup efforts before they could return to town with the troops. He grabbed both of the orbs and opened up a portal. The king had climbed up on his horse, as had several of his senior advisors. The portal opened to a courtyard just outside of the palace.

  Norlun looked to the king. “Have you ever traveled through a portal?” The king shook his head. “It is an odd sensation. You will feel a deep cold spread through your body. I suggest you ignore it and walk through as fast as you can. It can be quite unpleasant.”

  “Thank you, Norlun. This is a much better way to travel.” He smiled, “Even with the unpleasant sensation.”

  “Don’t get too used to it. Once the orbs are
secured, we can no longer take advantage of their additional powers,” Norlun advised.

  “That’s too bad.” He jammed his heels into the rear of the horse, spurring it into a brisk trot. He rushed through the portal and appeared on the other side in the courtyard. He turned around in amazement and looked behind him, before making his way to the palace. The senior advisors followed before Norlun walked through himself, although his horse seemed skeptical of the mysterious form of teleportation.

  The old wizard stretched his aching back. He looked at the palace. He knew he had been gone a few days, but it felt like weeks. It is good to be home, he thought before making his way through the gates.

  Norlun had several good ideas and needed to present them to the king. The orbs were his responsibility, but he understood he would need the cooperation of the rulers. He met King Wilros and laid out his plans. He wanted to store one orb in seven different locations. Havenbrook, Melina and Shakiel all made perfect sense. They were all dominant cities with the infrastructures in place to support and conceal what would soon be their most valuable possession. Korloth would make another perfect location; a larger city sitting far in the northeast, whose isolation would aid in keeping the orb a secret. He had a good rapport with the Ruvenkan Dwarves, which made Drognard another perfect location, as was Ferrindale. Which left one orb, and he found himself out of locations.

  The king sat erect with a straight back in his chair across the long table from Norlun. He strummed his fingers on the thick, stone tabletop as he listened. When the old man paused to gather his thoughts, Wilros jumped in. “This is all fine and good, and while I believe each orb should be hidden in its own position… I just don’t know if we can trust the likes of Melina and Shakiel. How can we be sure?”