“You asked me before what I was seeing?” No reply. “I was watching them, the Mergals, and they were watching you. Now you will be punished.”
For a fraction of a second, before the torches went out completely, we detected a faint movement inside the bags. Then…
Darkness came…
… and silence followed.
Skeptical murmuring escaped from the group, fearful gasps and dithering queries as they tried in vain to light the torches again. All attempts failed. By then, most of the sounds seemed to have been stolen, not just the echoes of our steps and movements.
“Wha… what… torches?” asked a Genn, quivering with fear. His question was muted, fading in and out.
No answer came as we lingered in that lightless, silent place. Being a First Born, I could see what was happening around us slightly better than they could, and it nearly stopped my heart. I hugged Taria and dropped to the ground.
Dim orange light flashed from somewhere. We all turned in its direction only to see the fading of the faint streak it left behind. Then came another light; both resembled the light emitted by molten metal.
A ghastly cry escaped the sound prison around us and chilled the blood in our veins.
By the occasional cinders blazing from different spots around us, we saw it: A red-hot hammer tied to a chain blasted out of Sertas’ mouth, maiming his face. It swung back, crushing the rest of his mouth and the majority of his face. It exited through the back of his skull in a mixture of gore and charred bones. Sertas dropped dead.
Around us, like a blurry scene in another dimension, they started to appear. When the next flash of orange light came, I could make out its source: it came from the hazy visage of a charred humanoid figure. They were ghastly hairless human-like creatures with strong, long arms and burnt eye pits. Their veins shone with soul-burning light from within and their incinerated skulls radiated with a lava-like aura. They stepped out of the Eternus chunks, shrieking in the faces of the thieves.
I heard a terrible muted scream. It forced me to peek above Taria, still encircled by my arms. Trom was being dragged by his feet like tattered cloth and thrown on an anvil. Mercilessly, he was battered over and over again with an enormous hammer by the compassionless Mergalian. Ghastly echoes surfed in the air. Only the sounds of the Mergals escaped the boundaries of the silence around us.
“You think you can take whatever you want? Hrrrrrr… brrrrmmm. LIES… ALL LIES. The Traveler lies… nrrrr.”
I saw another Genn pinned to a device, and molten metal poured in his guts.
Terrible punishment.
Intermittent light came from the Mergals as they struck the Genn. At least this way, I could see. The Genn’s futile attempts to fight back was not nearly enough to fend off the vengeful spirits of Mergal. The Genn had nothing in their quiver that could affect the Mergalians.
I saw a Genntay thrown into the pit and plummet to his death. Flying horrors emerged from the mining holes below and glided across the endless chasm as they snatched bits and pieces of him. Hundred feet or so in his downfall there was nothing left of him and his wailing stopped.
Cold fingers touched my shoulders.
Would I be punished for taking the daggers ? I turned to the Mergal and he gazed into my soul. A centuries-long moment passed. He moved his charred eye pit between my face, the dagger I held in my left hand, and my other hand, which was holding Taria.
Turning away, he let me be. I exhaled with relief only to feel Taria getting pulled away from me. Panicked, I realized a Mergalian was dragging her. I gripped her tighter, shouting at him to stop. “She did nothing,” I cried, but the words never came out.
My arms were wrapped around Taria when the Mergalian looked at me with those molten, eerie eye-pits. He then clamped a collar around her neck which greatly puzzled me. Why was she the only one collared? The Mergalian paused for a moment and then slowly turned his molten eyeballs to my daggers again. Was it because of my daggers that the Mergalians treated Taria differently? Then he pulled away, hurling his hammer across the legs of a Genn blindly scrambling at the walls, trying to escape.
Aided by the intermittent lights, I saw that the Eye of Gosh was a couple of feet away. Something was attracting my attention toward it, something told me that the Mergals wouldn’t get close to the Eyes of Gosh. Carefully, I started to move toward the Eye, carrying Taria who was ripped of her strength.
She raised her head and looked at me. She said something that I could barely put together, “Not… Eye… warned us not to … looking back at us… something in there.”
“It is better than staying here. They will come for you sooner or later. I should have taken you with me,” I answered, knowing that she couldn’t hear me.
I moved away from the massacre until we reached the dark opening. I kept dodging fiery hammer swings and ignoring muted pleas for help. I tried to penetrate the darkness inside the Eye but my ability to see in the dark wasn’t enough. Sherako appeared beside me and hissed at something very close behind me.
Suddenly, something ripped Taria out of my grip. In the orange light from the inner lava of the Mergalians, I turned to see one with a taller build. He wore chain-shaped Eternus bracers. He pulled Taria by the collar, which was linked to his bracers by smoldering metallic chains. I moved toward her only to see several Mergalians join their leader.
What am I doing ? I asked myself. Killing myself ? I had done my part and fulfilled my quest. Why was I forfeiting a basic rule of the Genn: not to let emotions step in? I thought of my trip to Vaud.
Turning my back to the horrors, I stood between her and them. I held her head in my hands to prevent her from seeing what was approaching; I had run out of words and decisions. For some reason, the moment I looked into her eyes, the sound prison released its prisoner and we could hear ourselves again.
“Tell me,” she said, trembling with fear as she heard the approach of the guardians of Eternus. She was the only one left.
“Anything...” I answered sincerely for the first time in centuries.
She continued with glittering eyes, “Was I mistaken?”
I searched for an answer. Nothing in my two thousand years of existence had prepared me for such a question. Yet the answer I found was the naked truth.
“There is no life inside of me Taria, only a wasteland of silence and ruins. Nothing breathes there anymore, not even the memories of what once was.”
A lonely tear rolled down her cheek and she said nothing.
I pulled her closer toward the Eye and tried in vain to remove the collar, but it wouldn’t yield. The Mergalian leader pulled the chain, and I could not bring her any closer to the eye-shaped opening. He detached it from his bracers and pinned it to a lonely iron rod. It protruded from the floor in the main pathway just in front of the sloping overpass that led to the forge.
Where did that rod come from? I wondered for a second.
The Mergalians were drawing close. Their bloody, red-hot hammers colored the whole place with orange firelight. To stay longer would be the end of me.
Yet, I could not leave her to her nightmarish end.
What are you asking of me, Makista ?
Follow her. Follow her legacy. She will open a door hidden from the eyes of the world.
I screamed in my head: to where? She led me to unfinished enigmas, to a merciless secret, to death. What had happened to me atop those stairs that I was seeing things differently?
I felt something shatter atop my frigid exterior. Then I felt the crack, to my unmovable, tedious existence.
I lay by the opening, helpless, watching the frightening apparitions close in on us. I was holding Taria in my arms as she suffered some kind of psychic suffocation, gasping for air. Her eyes still searched mine.
The answer to her question was veiled to me, and I just gazed back into her eyes. The Mergalian leader stopped inches away and reached his hands to her. I went for my dagger, and with his smoldering eyes, he gazed into mine.
“Yoppa”… whispered the dagger I chose to pull, the eagle-wing shaped one.
An arrow pierced the air beside my ear, plunging into the neck of the Mergalian leader. A second arrow sliced through the air into the forehead of another. The arrows’ tips radiated faint golden light and they issued a low screech when they were aimed toward the Mergals.
As more arrows flew past, I turned to their source. From around the dark opening, high on rocky protrusions in the cavern, several hands appeared. They carried huge oaken bows, firing at the apparitions.
I stood up and tried to pull Taria nearer to the Eye, assuming that it was the friendliest spot right then. Then I saw the shooter as the orange light fell on a masked face. The mask resembled two eagles touching their beaks around the wearer’s eyes. Its wearer had dark gray hair like a storm cloud wildly shrouding his features. Although we were leagues beneath the ground, his hair moved as if he stood facing the wind. Gradually he materialized, and then others appeared.
Elves of the Mountain, the Brave Elders. The elite elves who had the most dangerous task of watching over the Eyes of Gosh.
The other elves wore the same mask and remarkable, earth-toned metal breastplates. Their armors were engraved with the marking of the Galad’Vemast, the Brave Elders, the greatest of elf warriors. It was a mark that resembled a two-headed eagle, the sign of the elven deity Thar, The Watchful, a mark well known on the surface of Talor. The way they moved, silent, graceful and most efficient, was breathtaking.
The Mergalians paused for a moment, apparently calculating their next move.
“Helna domai,” the leader of the elves said to me, waving for me to get closer to them, closer to the Eye. More Mergalians came from the corridor leading to the Forge.
I leaned Taria on the walls a few feet beside the Eye and unsheathed my daggers, signing to Sherako to leave for safety.
“Yarpus,” the bat-wing shaped dagger whispered as I pulled it out. Our adversaries’ attention turned to it.
Gradually our torches got their flames blazing up again.
I turned to face the assailants as my unexpected allies exchanged tactical signs. Under the fiery, dim light, their firm gestures and thorough procedures were enough to make me feel falsely safe.
When the leader of the Mergals, the one holding the chain, turned his attention from my daggers to one of the rogues’ large bags, he found several arrow tips pointed toward his head. He paused, gazing at the elven bows.
The elven leader waved for the elves to hold their fire.
“It is their Eternus,” he said. The Mergal leader turned to his elven counterpart. “Let them have it. We have no quarrel with the avenging spirits of Mergal.”
The Mergals collected the stolen Eternus. When they reached the small leather bag containing the three shards they stopped. The Mergalians turned toward their leader. He was looking at me and my daggers, examining me.
Then he spoke.
“Yoppa… Yarpus,” he said in a ghastly voice as he pointed to the daggers. “Shedlaa Kotar, Kareta Vaud.”: The Whispers of Vaud…listen to them.
The Mergals hurled back into their world, disappearing inside the Eternus. Before their leader followed them, he gave the superior elf a curious look. The elf bowed. Then the Mergal leader glanced to the protruding rod to which the chain is attached, then to me. Then, he too vanished, leaving the Shards of Mergal in our world.
I looked at my new daggers and wondered for a moment. Why did seeing them make the Mergalians treat Taria differently? Why did they put that collar on her? Then I heard her gasp, so I sheathed my daggers and ran to her.
“She is surrendering her soul to the Great Mother,” said the elf.
I leaned on her motionless body and muttered words into her ears, words that I prefer keeping to myself.
“You better hurry, Genn. Your time in Mergal is running out,” said the high-ranking elf. “This is not your world.” I looked at Taria. “Leave her to us,” he said.
I hesitated for a moment. I didn’t want to part with her. Yet, relinquishing her body to the Brave Elders was a far better option than taking her with me, so I agreed. I heard a slithering sound and noticed giant roots sprouting out of the ground, encircling Taria’s body.
Behind the grand elf, I kept hearing that tedious faint beat emitting from the dark hole. With another look at the grand elf, I saw him removing his mask and then I realized who he was. That elf was a legend.
Azurus Stormwrath… I should have known earlier; he was the leader of the Brave Elders. His appearance fit the stories; strong eyes whose pupils were a swirling gray in an oblong face and downturned lips.
Azurus stood silently with his hair flowing, his silver eyes fixed on me. He turned to Taria, uttering undecipherable words with the tongue of the ancient elves, the Galad’Ibay. The huge roots wrapped gently around her. The elf moved closer to her, stretching his palms above her face while still whispering those words. He froze like a painting for a moment as if focusing to hear something and then threw an inquisitive look at me. “She wants to speak to you,” he said.
A ghastly manifestation gradually appeared above her, and I could see her pain-filled features. She beamed the moment she laid her eyes on me.
Then she spoke…
“Nimtha. I am not mistaken. I do not regret keeping what I felt for you to myself. I do not regret falling for you, alone, in the eternal spring of my heart. I thank you for giving me that, even for that short period. Now, I die fulfilled. I only regret my failure to save you. You are the one left behind in that wretched world of ours. Promise me, Nimtha. Promise me to find the colors of hope you lost in your gray world. Promise me that whenever you will find them, you will hold onto them. And when the time comes, step into the light and let me see you for what you really are. Let me see the features whose shadows I fell in love with.”
I stood there, new to those emotions battling inside me.
“Listen,” she said, with tears in her eyes, searching for something around her. “Can you hear this music? He is grieving me.” She floated as if a wind blew her in the direction she gazed upon.
For a second I heard nothing, but then I started to hear the sad Sedai tunes. The Sedai is a string-based musical instrument resembling a double harp, which stands erect like a pair of wings. It is played by a light and delicate wooden stick.
As silent witnesses, the elves turned to me and froze, the color of their skin blending with their surroundings. I looked in the direction of the music and saw four shadowy figures standing at a small opening far above me in the cavern. The figures resembled ghastly reflections of some humanoids on an unseen mist. They looked at us with glowing eyes. One of them, with a peculiar azure third eye centered in his forehead, stretched his arms toward Taria, calling her. She floated to them. They slowly turned and disappeared inside with Taria’s visage. Before she faded into the mouth of the opening, she turned to me and smiled warmly. A flash of light flickered in the dark opening behind her.
Filled with bitterness, I stared at her motionless body and saw that the oaken roots were having trouble taking it away. As they pulled, I saw that her body was still bound by the chain to that rod that pierced the ground. I walked to the rod and examined it. As I leaned forward to remove it from the ground, I saw Azurus eyeing me. Ignoring him, I tried to pull the rod out of the mechanism that held it into the ground. Two holes with unique curvatures were on the rod, opposite to each other. I needed a key.
Azurus still watched silently.
I heard undecipherable whispers from my daggers. Hesitantly, I drew them. I examined them together, one in each palm. Sure enough, the curvatures of the end of their handles matched that of the locks on the rod; it was my profession, after all: opening locks. After I inserted the dagger handles into the holes, I was able to pull the rod all the way out of the mechanical lock in the ground. Hastily, I removed the chain, freeing Taria’s body.
Together, my daggers whispered “ Salitar.”
Then came the thunder
.
When I lifted my head, I saw the titanic hammer falling toward the anvil in a storm of dust and debris. The sound it produced when it hit the iron surface was so deafening that it resonated through the entire mountain. Then, the Forge collapsed along the platform, diving into the endless pit. With a deafening blast, it left our world for what lay beneath it. The entrance from which I had entered caved in.
I looked to Azurus. What have I done ? I screamed in my head.
Still, neither he nor his soldiers moved an inch.
I looked at the Shards of Mergal lying on the ground and saw Sherako jumping around them. Confused, I loitered in my spot, wondering. What should I do about these? But deep in my heart, I knew. That was the last chance for man to heed what the Mergalians had to say. I could not just leave the Rushk lying there. I glanced at Taria’s motionless body and realized what was required of me. I moved toward the legendary shards while keeping an eye on the elves, anticipating their reaction, especially that of Azurus. The elves waited for his command, and I could see their hands squeezing their bows and subtly caressing the nocked arrows. Azurus gave them no order. They barely moved at all, yet they managed to fade out of my sight.
They let me keep the Legacy of Mergal, the Rushk.
I turned toward the eye of Gosh, cradling the bag. I could swear that something was looking back at me from the pitch darkness inside.
Seconds later, that beat sounded again across the thickness of the mountain, clearer than before. It sounded like a metallic object ramming against some wall, then a rumbling emanated like the noise of a thundering stampede. The sound grew louder each passing second.
What answered the Hammer Fall ? I wondered.
Then Azurus spoke. “Genn. What you heard is the very sound of hunger and terror, fully awaken and angry, and now it is clawing its way out. The Goshae you awakened, the last guardian you came across, sent news of your arrival to Mergal to the Realm of Gosh. After centuries of undisturbed silence, Mergal welcomed a group of nine, but to us, it was no surprise. A unit capable of sneaking around the Goshae can only be one formed of Genn and Genntays. But now, the seven races of the Vile Born of Zuld have heard the call, as well as the Brave Elders. And we both know what that means.”
The Dark Season Saga- the Final Harvest Page 8