by Levi Samuel
“Take your time. I’ve rested long enough and you’ve shown me more than enough hospitality.”
“You did a great service for my people by freeing them from captivity. In some parts of the world such a deed would warrant a life debt. Seeing you cleaned and rested was the least I could do. But, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to hear your side of what happened on the scouting run. As I’m sure you’re aware, we were going to move the camp. Unfortunately, we couldn’t risk such a large endeavor until we were certain the way was clear.”
“There isn’t much to tell honestly. We were checking the river ford. Learned that it had been salted. Before we could redirect, a unit of dreu came upon us. Truth be told I don’t know how we didn’t hear them coming. It was storming and there was plenty of cloud cover, yet they found us before we could evade. We fought them off for hours, but eventually our quivers ran dry. It didn’t take long for them to overrun us after that.”
“Tell me about the prison. My men said they used some kind of machine?”
“One unlike any I’ve seen before. They used the orcs to generate lightning, which as best I could tell, drained us of life and gave it to the other prisoners. It twisted them into some kind of dreualfar hybrid. They were building an army.”
“Were?”
“I destroyed the machine before I left.” Demetrix paused, recalling his actions. “I killed their creations, too.”
He lowered his head. He didn’t want to see the judgment that was sure to be in the general’s eyes. There was enough of that in himself. It didn’t matter if they were twisted abominations of their previous selves. He’d committed genocide against them and that was unforgivable.
Seeing the young dalari’s withdraw, Kashien leaned forward in his chair and spoke in a calm, delicate tone. “I have a fair idea how you feel, but I need you to believe me when I say you did the best you could in an impossible situation. You managed to save your people and the orcs you were imprisoned with. You can’t help what the dreualfar did. They have no appreciation for life. Were I in your position, I would have made the same decisions.”
“I thank you for the reassuring words, but I’m the one that’s going to have to live with my choices.”
Kashien took a deep breath and leaned back, interlocking his fingers and laying them to rest on his stomach. “You’re not wrong. But for what it’s worth, I believe you did the right thing. We have no idea what such an army would have been capable of. But if they were even half as corrupt as the dreualfar, it could have quickly turned the tide of this war to the dreu’s favor.”
“Exactly. We don’t know what they were capable of. For all we know they could have been a peaceful ally. But I never gave them the chance to prove otherwise. I destroyed them while they were caged like animals and unable to flee. I destroyed them because I found them unsettling. Letting them live was a risk I didn’t have time to contemplate. They’re dead and I’ll have to live with that.”
“It is possible their minds remained their own, though highly unlikely. The magics it takes to twist someone, as my men described, has a greater impact on the mind than it does the body. And you’ve seen what it did to the body. Still, I understand how you feel.” Pulling himself up, Kashien stood and approached the table resting beside the bed. Reaching into the drawer beneath it, he continued. “Can you tell me a little more about the machine? You said they used the orcs to generate lightning. From what I know about the arcane, it takes a bit more than simple lightning to transfer life from one being to the next. However rare, there have been a few instances where such a thing has been done successfully, though each time there’s always been a catalyst between the source and the host. Was there anything like that? This perhaps?” Kashien turned, holding the glowing blue stone so Demetrix could see it.
“Yes, actually. It was in the center of the machine. I thought it was simply a way to focus the energy. I took it, hoping it would slow their ability to build another one. Where did you find it?”
“It was in your hand after you collapsed.”
“Collapsed?”
“Yes, you— Do you not recall the fight between your brothers?”
“Fight? I— I remember climbing the cliff face when I heard an explosion. When I reached the top, I— Shit! Where are they?” Demetrix threw the thin blankets off his lap and jumped from the bed. Every muscle in his body strained against him. He wanted nothing more than to relax a while longer. But his brothers needed his help.
“Slow down!” Kashien sat the stone on the table and held his hands out, hoping the young dalari would listen. There was so much to say in such a brief time. “You need to rest.”
“With all due respect, Lord Kashien, they were at each other’s throats. I need to find them before they cross a line they can’t come back from.”
“Demetrix, sit!” Kashien’s voice raised to a commanding tone. Realizing his own volume, he gestured calm, directed at both Demetrix and himself. Continuing, in his low, reassuring tone, he approached the weakened dalari and placed both hands on his shoulders, “Rest, please. I’ll explain everything. Your brother isn’t going anywhere.”
Stealing a glance at the inviting bed behind him, Demetrix carefully took a seat, letting the tension in his mid-section strain until it found comfort. “You said brother. Does that mean one of them is dead?”
“Not necessarily. Ravion is resting in the next room. Unconscious, more accurately. But there isn’t much that can be done for him. At least not until you understand what’s happened to him. The other, Gareth if my memory serves, left nearly a week ago. We haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
Seeing the excitable dalari return to bed, Kashien stepped to the table and grabbed the blue stone once again. “What do you know about our people?”
“Not much I’m afraid. I was separated from my family when I was barely old enough to walk. I didn’t find Ravion until about fifteen years ago. Even at that age I didn’t know he was my brother until much later.”
“I suppose I need to start at the beginning then, again as briefly as possible. Long ago, when this world was new, the gods created the eldar races. There were five sets. The dragons, the elementals, the devonie, the d’zhuni, and the dalari. We were the originals before all other races. In fact, the majority of the other races stemmed from us, the alfar anyway. Orcs and dwarves came from the devonie, and so forth, but that’s not pertinent to my story. The eldar races as a whole were equal in all ways, but our forms were frail compared to those of the dragons or elementals, so in return the gods made us the protectors of magic. We were entrusted with the arcane arts. It’s that purpose that makes us glow blue. That’s the innate arcane energies stored within all dalari. Along with our creation, there were five stones. This—.” Kashien held up the glowing blue stone. “—is the dalari stone. It has the ability to influence our kind on a monumental level. Death, injury, magic, nothing is out of the question when it comes to this stone. At least that’s the myth behind it. Though I can tell you from firsthand experience that it’s powerful. I’ve seen it one other time in my life before now. I believed it had been destroyed. Which means the others are still out there and this world is in more peril than I’d thought.”
“I appreciate the knowledge you’re imparting, but what does this have to do with helping Ravion?” Demetrix inquired.
“As dalari, we have the ability to store and manipulate arcane energies far greater than any other spellcaster. What would be impossible for a studied human wizard is but a matter of learning to us.” Kashien took a deep breath and returned to his seat, keeping the eldarstone locked in his fist. “Your brother learned how to absorb these energies. He learned how to steal them from other beings, similar to the way this stone allowed the dreualfar to drain energies from you. It wasn’t your life it was robbing. It was your magic. That’s what twisted my men. They were drained beyond their capabilities, which began robbing from their life. If Ravion chose to, he could create the same monsters you destroyed. Only he
wouldn’t need a machine to do it. I’ve seen our kind take energies before. With the right spell, anyone can do it. But only our kind can do it through sheer force of will. It can be done safely in small doses, not that I’d recommend trying to learn. It’s kind of like a tankard of exceptional mead. Once you empty the contents, you want another. But what happens when your belly is full and you keep drinking? You get sick. That’s what Ravion has done. He’s consumed more arcane energies than anyone I’ve ever heard of. That much power has a tendency corrupt even the most devout. In simpler terms, he’s addicted to magic. He needs to consume it. The more he consumes, the more he needs. And when he can’t find a source, his body begins to shut down.”
Demetrix stared blankly at the dalari general. He didn’t know how to process what he’d heard. Playing through every scenario he could think of, he finally spoke. “Is there any way to help him?”
“Under normal circumstances I’d have to say no. I’ve seen magic addiction many times in my life. Most never recover. Their bodies shut down and die. The few that do are rarely the same person they were before. But Ravion isn’t just any dalari. And you just happened to find the one artifact that has the ability to help him.” Kashien held up the eldarstone.
“What do you mean Ravion isn’t just any dalari?”
“The hard truth of the matter, after what he did we would have put him to death. That was the plan for him. At least it was until I found this.” Kashien drew the curved longsword from his side, displaying it.
“Ravion’s sword? What’s that have to do with anything?” Demetrix sounded puzzled.
Kashien flipped the blade around and extended it to Demetrix, hilt first. Free of its grip, he held his hand out. Another blade materialized in his grip as if he’d been holding it the entire time.
Studying the two swords, Demetrix instantly realized the similarities between the two. In fact, Kashien’s weapon looked identical to the way Ravion’s used to, before the blade had been modified and curved.
“I feel like I’m missing something. You have the same sword, so what?”
“Exactly. They’re the same sword. They’re both the sword of House Santail. Your brother’s sword is the same weapon, but much older.”
“You’re saying they’re the exact same weapon. Like same metal, same leather, everything?”
“Yes, exactly. That sword shouldn’t exist.” Kashien gestured to Ravion’s blade. “It’s not possible without the influence of a particular deity that’s been known to take interest in mortal affairs from time to time.”
“You don’t seem to be too upset that Ravion modified his. If it’s as old as you say, I’d have thought you to take offense by that.”
“That? That’s nothing. The sword conforms to its owner’s desire. As desires change, so does the blade.”
“Why would having the same weapon spare Ravion’s life?”
“I’m the son of Ashlan Torcavious and Marcus Santail. Making me the first Santail heir to the throne. As there’s never been another, and the sword can only be bound by the head of House Santail, that means Ravion is royalty after me. I suppose by extension, you are too. That makes Ravion third inline for the throne. You would be fourth inline, that is unless Ravion has children where you’re from.”
“None that I’m aware of.”
“By our laws, no member of a royal house can be executed without first being granted trial by the ruling emperor. As we’re an ocean away and in the middle of a war, my time is better spent here than carrying out an execution in Dranar.”
“I’m thankful for that. Though it seems like an awful lot of circumstance. How do you know your men won’t seek their own justice?”
“I trust them. And they trust me. Besides, in his current condition, it’s unlikely he’ll live till morning anyway.”
Demetrix broke his gaze on the prince and stared deeply into the etchings along Ravion’s blade. “Do you mind if I see him? You said the stone can help. If there’s any hope it can save him, I’d like to try.”
Bits of ceramic exploded against the wall, sending jagged pieces scattering across the stone floor. “What do you mean they escaped and destroyed the machine?” General Tygrell fumed, glaring angrily at the hydralfar before him.
Jorin’otth kept his head low, hoping to avoid the enraged general’s wrath. “General, one of your men, Captain Vaniar, he went against my express orders and took one of our more valuable prisoner from his cell. I don’t have the details as to exactly what happened, but we’ve lost Drundale. The orcs have reclaimed it and bolstered their numbers from the surrounding clans.”
“Gods damn it! How many did we lose? And please tell me someone took Vaniar into custody. That sorry excuse for a dreualfar has been a thorn in my side since General Elgar fell.”
“Vaniar was killed during the escape. As were most of the hybrids, Sir. We believe a few escaped, from the evidence we found. But we have no idea where they may have run off to. Only a handful of your men made it out, and those were the few patrolling the outer wards.”
Tygrell gritted his teeth. His fists were wrapped so tightly, his knuckles were turning white. “I wanted to kill that son of a bitch myself.” Marching to the map table in the center of the room, he plucked a dagger from the mountain city where Drundale had been. “Guard, get in here!”
A scrawny and underfed dreualfar stepped through the door. “Yes, General?”
“Send missive to all the commanders. From this day forward, any dreualfar that abandons their post, under any circumstance, is to be executed on sight. I won’t have cowards under my command.”
“It will be done, General!” The guard snapped to attention and offered salute. Backing from the room, he pulled the door shut once again.
Tygrell exhaled sharply, forcing his anger to subside. “Now, Jorin’otth, what do we do now? I don’t suppose you can build another machine?”
“Apologies, My Lord. Even if we retook Drundale, the eldarstone was lost in the battle. Without it, the machine will kill anyone we put in the chair. But there may be something else we can do.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you remember that scout that said the dalari have someone that can siphon magic?
“Vaguely.”
“If we can find that one, we won’t need the machine or the stone.”
“How do you figure that?”
“If he’s as powerful as the scout said, he’s beyond his own control. All we have to do is feed him. After that it’s as simple as using a counter spell. I swap the supply with a prisoner and let him build our army for us.”
“Where would we find him? Unless you’ve forgotten, I killed the scouts that encountered him. And that was almost two months ago, near Riverbend. Even if he’s moving with the main dalari army, a lot of ground can be covered in two months.”
“Don’t worry about that, Sir. I’ll consult the book and see what I can find on our friend. Maybe it’ll have some alternative options for us.”
“Get to it. I don’t want to see you again until the tide of this war has shifted to our favor! And Jorin’otth, consider yourself warned, I won’t suffer another failure. If we have another incident like that of Drundale, it’ll be you that suffers my wrath.”
“As you command.” Jorin’otth bowed low and backed to the door. Spinning around, he stepped out and disappeared into the corridor.
Chapter X
Personal Demons
Gareth traipsed through the overgrown woodland, watching the flourished stands of ivy and decaying wood crunch beneath his boots. He was hot and sticky. What had been blazing heat the previous few days had tempered into dense humidity lingering in the air. The seemingly unending forest had shifted. Instead of plump trees and thick underbrush as far as the eye could see, the land had changed. There were still just as many trees as before, but now they shot further into the sky.
Thick vines hung down, stretching from one limb to the next. Everything was glossy, like a layer of sweat clung to the sur
face at all times. The dry, leaf covered dirt was hidden beneath a layer of thick vegetation. The vibrant pedals and heart shaped leaves were thick and heavy, stretched out to absorb the glistening rays of sunlight through the overhead canopy. What had been a musty forest had given way to a temperate jungle full of insects and reptiles.
Gareth swung his sabre, cutting through the thick vines constricting his path. Stepping through the opening, the sounds of rushing water reached him. That was good news. His water-skin had run dry the previous day and he wasn’t sure when or if he was going to be able to refill it. Following the sounds, the roar grew louder. Through the massive leaves, entwined around one of the larger trees, Gareth could see a faint rainbow glowing in the mist of the towering waterfall in the distance. He still had a way to go before he could reach it, but he’d found water. That was more than he could have asked for.
Hacking his way ever closer, Gareth stumbled upon a well-traveled path to the water’s edge. He could already taste the fresh spring. His mouth was dry and his throat burned from the dust over the past few days. Following the trail, his eyes fell on the large pool at the base of the fall, though he wasn’t alone. Stopping himself, Gareth stared blankly at the shimmering figure swimming in the shallows just beyond the plunge basin.
She was beautiful, even from a distance. Her auburn hair was long and stringy, grouped into thick bands from the moisture. Her pale skin glowed almost red in the beaming sunlight.
Realizing what he was seeing, Gareth stared intently. It wasn’t her skin that was red. It was the area around her that was. She clearly wasn’t dalari. He’d spent enough time around them to know that much. Besides, they glowed blue. She was something else. Something he hadn’t seen before. Taking a step closer, hoping to get a better look, he heard a snap echo under his boot. It rang out like an explosion in the dead of night.