Fortress of Radiance

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “I don’t know where you got that idea,” Karus said, his anger boiling to the surface. “We didn’t ask to come here and certainly did not follow you through any portal.”

  “He speaks lies,” the elf said, “like all other humans. Warden, they are not to be trusted, especially these. They must be of our age-old enemy, the Masseey.”

  The warden held up a hand, forestalling any further speech by her advisor. Her gaze shifted to Amarra, and a slight, almost cruel smile formed thinly upon her lips.

  “Master of Obsidian,” the warden said, “fetch me her staff. I would add its will to my own.”

  Karus blinked in surprise. Amarra took a step back.

  “I would hesitate to make such an attempt,” the wizard said. “Warden, I sense tremendous will bound within the staff. I have not felt its like for some time. It may even be from the Time of Wonders. The High Priestess has the ability to use and wield this artifact. Some caution may be in order.”

  “You will not take this staff,” Amarra said firmly, setting her jaw and tightening her grip.

  The warden looked from Amarra to the wizard and back again.

  “You came here with taltalum,” the warden said. “You may have formed the mistaken impression that they somehow protect you. They cannot. You are at my mercy. Now, girl, hand it over.”

  “You will not take this staff,” Amarra said again. Her words were as firm as tempered steel. Karus’s hand itched to draw his sword. Amarra apparently sensed that, for she shot him a look that said, No.

  “I will allow you to leave here with your lives,” the warden said and held out an expectant hand, “if you give me the staff. I shall not ask again, girl.”

  Amarra drew herself up. Her fingers gripping the staff flexed, the crystal flaring with light. “The High Father gave this blessing into my care. I cannot … I will not give it away. To do so would be a betrayal of my faith and my lord, to whom I have sworn everlasting service.”

  The smile on the warden’s face grew.

  “Si’Cara and Tal’Thor are two of our best rangers,” the warden said and gestured behind them. “Their skill amongst the trees is unequaled. They speak to the forest as if they’d been born to it, which I suppose they have.”

  The warden took several steps to the right, walking slowly around behind them, her dress whispering as she made her way toward the two rangers. She paused and regarded the two for a prolonged moment, then reached up a hand and caressed first Tal’Thor’s cheek, then Si’Cara’s. Both bowed their heads. It was as if they were favored children. The warden regarded them both for several more heartbeats, then continued around and back to her original position.

  “Elven lives are precious in a way you humans could never understand,” the warden continued. “Your lives are so fleeting, a mere blink of an eye to my people. One moment you are here and the next gone, while we remain. If you humans are lucky, you are remembered. If not, you are forgotten and lost to the ravages of time, just another faceless human amongst a multitude.”

  “Why are you telling us this?” Karus asked.

  “Why?” The warden arched an eyebrow at him.

  “Yes, why?” Karus asked again.

  “So you better understand your position,” the warden said, and the thin smile slipped from her face. “Humans, orcs, the rest of the lesser races … you all are like a plague of insects ravaging a farmer’s field. No matter how hard the farmer works, you consume everything, destroying the harvest, making a mockery of his toil and labor. You multiply and spread without thought of the consequences. You ruin the land, corrupt and contaminate it. There is no harmony with your kind, no balance, no thought to consequence.”

  “Okay, I get you don’t like us,” Karus said. “There is no need to insult us.”

  “No there is not,” the warden agreed and fell silent a moment. “This is simply how we view your people.”

  “You see only what you wish,” Amarra said, “what you want.”

  “Perhaps.” The warden’s gaze moved beyond them. “It is time I show you truth, my dear.” The warden gestured at the two rangers. “All elves are, in a manner of speaking, my children. These two are amongst my most dear, my most precious. They have sworn unquestioning obedience and loyalty to me. Is that not right?”

  “It is, warden,” Tal’Thor said.

  “As you say, warden,” Si’Cara said.

  “See?” the warden asked of Karus and Amarra.

  “Not quite.” Karus spared a glance over at Amarra, who was frowning slightly, clearly troubled.

  “Then let me show you,” the warden said. “Tal’Thor?”

  “Command me, my warden,” the ranger said.

  “Give Si’Cara a mortal wound. I do not want her to die too quickly.”

  Karus turned in shock. Tal’Thor glanced to Si’Cara, then to the warden and back again. His eyes narrowed. Before Karus could react, he moved with lightning quickness. Si’Cara stood, as if frozen in place. She stared in disbelief at the warden, even as the other ranger pulled out a dagger and drove it deeply into her side. Her eyes widened with shock as her breath whooshed out in an agonized grunt, the dagger driven violently to its hilt. Si’Cara staggered as Tal’Thor pulled the dagger out and stepped back and away from her, blood dripping from his blade.

  Crimson blood fountained and bubbled up from the wound to her side and splashed onto the floor. Si’Cara reached for the wound with both hands, struggling in a vain attempt to staunch the blood flow as it spilled out down her side. Her eyes went to Tal’Thor. Karus thought he read a deep, terrible hurt within them, a clear accusation of betrayal. Tal’Thor returned her gaze with a stony expression of his own.

  Si’Cara turned her gaze to the warden, the shock and hurt plain for all to see. She looked as if she intended to speak, then gritted her teeth as a terrible spasm of pain ran through her.

  “Why did you do that?” Amarra screamed, stepping back from the warden. “You’d kill your own to make a point?”

  “Warden …” Si’Cara fell to a knee, the strength clearly fleeing her body as fast as the blood, which was pooling around her feet. With the amount of blood loss, Karus knew she could not last much longer. “Help me.”

  The warden ignored Si’Cara’s plea, as if it were beneath her.

  “Yes, I did this to make a point, but not the one you think,” the warden said to Amarra and Karus. Her tone turned mocking. “High Priestess, you are not the only believer in this hall. Si’Cara is a true follower of your god.”

  Amarra turned her horrified gaze upon Si’Cara. The horror softened to one of deep sadness.

  “After the gods turned their backs upon us,” the warden continued, “leaving us bereft of their protection, she and a few others yet kept their faith. Despite everything, the suffering, all the gods had done to us, the fools continued to believe.” Disgust crept into the warden’s voice. Her lip curled. “Look at her. Even now, with death beckoning, she retains her faith.” The warden paused to suck in a breath, and her voice became raised. “Look upon her, High Priestess. She prays to a god who will do nothing to save her. Why should we worship the gods? They only use us as no better than a child’s plaything to be discarded when a new toy comes along. Tell me why, give me a good reason why we should honor the gods!”

  “You’re a monster,” Amarra said.

  “No,” the warden replied. “I am a realist.”

  Karus swung his gaze from the warden back to the stricken ranger. Si’Cara had closed her eyes and, despite being in tremendous pain, was silently mouthing words he took to be prayer. A moment later, she gasped in a convulsion of agony and fell forward, landing on her side, then rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. She reached up an imploring hand toward the warden. It was covered in her blood.

  Karus had seen plenty of good boys die in his time. Many suffered lingering deaths, from slow loss of blood, terrible stomach wounds, infection, blood poisoning, and more. Sadly, he’d seen it all. He was person
ally disgusted by the warden. Watching the ranger slowly bleed out tugged at his heart. He felt saddened that she would die such a senseless death. She wasn’t an enemy. She’d done nothing to him. She’d served her people, her leader, the warden, faithfully. Karus understood service. For years, service, duty, and honor had been watchwords for him.

  Si’Cara cried out as another spasm of pain took her. Karus shook his head slightly. An untimely death was the reward for her service. It was unkind, unjust, and terribly unfair. She deserved better. He knelt by her side and took her hand, which shook slightly. Her blood pooling out around her made his knees wet.

  “No one should have to die alone,” Karus said to her. “I will remain at your side as you cross over. I will pay the coin to the ferryman.”

  “Thank you,” Si’Cara breathed, looking up at him. A solitary tear ran from her left eye down the side of her cheek. “I would have liked to have talked with you some more.”

  “As would I,” Karus said. Her hand began to tremble violently within his. He could feel the warmth leaving her body. He tightened his grip. “I regret we won’t be able to talk more.”

  “It hurts,” Si’Cara said and arched her back until the spasm passed.

  Karus could hear the guards entering the hall at a run.

  The warden laughed and it drew Karus’s attention. It was mirthless, driven by cruelty. He had known others like the warden. They looked upon those who served them, not as people, with thoughts and feelings of their own, but as tools to be used and discarded. He felt sickened.

  “See! See, the gods will not lift a finger to save her,” the warden said, voice almost a screech, and pointed at the failing ranger. “Si’Cara will die a death that will serve as a lesson to other fools of the faith. Those few of my people who still worship the gods will learn from this. They would do better to worship me. By rights, they should worship at my altar!”

  Si’Cara choked, blood frothing to her lips. Karus returned his attention to her. Her eyes met his. In them he read fear at her rapidly approaching death. Her entire body had begun to tremble violently. She turned her head to gaze upon Amarra.

  “Priestess, bless me,” Si’Cara whispered, struggling to get the words out. “Before I go—” Si’Cara struggled to suck in a breath. It was a pathetic rasping sound. Karus could hear the fluid in her lungs. She coughed up more bloody spittle. “Long has it been since I received a blessing.” Si’Cara coughed again. “I have sinned, doubted, questioned and struggled with my faith. Forgive me and bless me. I desire it, very much … before it is too late.”

  Karus saw the warden’s lip twitch almost into a smile, as if amused by the drama playing out before her.

  “High Father, lend me your strength!” Amarra slammed the butt of her staff onto the floor. The staff flashed with an intense blue light, for a moment drowning out the magical light from the chandeliers hanging above.

  There was a sound much like a bell tolling. The hall shook mightily, the tree along with it. One of the great windows shattered, glass cascading both inside and outside the hall. Everyone but Amarra struggled to remain standing.

  Amarra slammed the butt of her staff down again. The bell tolled once more and the tree shook violently. There was a deep cracking sound from above as the wood in the ceiling split, a great rent opening. Splinters, dust, and chunks of wood showered down around them. A large piece of wood hit and felled one of the guards who had stopped just feet from them. An anchor holding a chandelier snapped with a loud crack. The chandelier crashed to the floor and shattered, its magical light extinguishing itself.

  The shaking ceased, and all became silent.

  Karus looked up at Amarra and his eyes widened. She was encased in white fire. At first Karus was alarmed at the sight of her burning, but then he realized that she was unhurt by the flames. This was Jupiter’s power and she was wielding it. She was using the staff!

  Amarra took a step forward toward the warden. The wood smoked behind her where her feet had been. The warden, wizard, and the other elves took several steps back and away from her.

  “Warden, you play a petty and cheap game,” Amarra said, and somehow her voice seemed louder, magnified, ominous. “The Horde ravages this world. Tannis is being overrun by evil. You challenge and test a god you should honor and love. With devotion and faith comes reward. You believe having command over life and death a great power? You are badly mistaken. I shall show you true power this day. You had best pay close attention, for despite your long years, you may yet learn something.”

  Amarra whirled around and stepped over to Karus. Si’Cara’s grip in his hand slackened. He turned back to her to find the light of life in her eyes fading fast. Amarra knelt down next to her on the opposite side.

  Still encased in white fire, Amarra reached forward and gently removed Karus’s hand from Si’Cara’s. The flame did not burn him, but instead felt soothing to the touch. Amarra took Si’Cara’s hand in her own. The mortally wounded elf’s eyes closed, a ragged final breath escaping. Amarra, too, closed her eyes. As she did, her staff flared once again with a brilliant, blinding light. The flames around her roared as if they’d been fed fresh oil.

  Karus closed his eyes and shielded his gaze from the light with his hand. It wasn’t enough. He could still see the brilliant light behind his closed eyelids. Warmth washed over him. It was a measure of what he had felt when visited by Jupiter. It was pure ecstasy. The touch lasted but a moment and then was cruelly snatched away. Karus wanted it back, but the light was rapidly fading, the touch of the god gone.

  Karus opened his eyes, blinking away spots of light. Amarra had leaned back. She was no longer encased in fire. The staff had returned to a sullen, throbbing blue. After a moment, he looked down at Si’Cara. The blood no longer flowed from her wound, though she lay in a puddle of it. She’d gone very still, but where he expected to see the pallor of death, he instead saw life. He leaned forward, checking for breath by holding a hand out to her nose. He felt her exhale. Her chest rose and fell. He reached over and checked the wound. There was no longer a hole where Tal’Thor’s dagger had punched deeply into her side. Through the hole in her tunic, he felt unbroken skin.

  Karus looked up at Amarra, astonished, shocked. She flashed him a tired smile.

  Si’Cara stirred, eyes fluttering open. Her gaze went first to Karus and then Amarra.

  “The High Father has blessed you this day,” Amarra said softly to the ranger. “The great god judged you worthy. You are healed of your grievous wound.”

  “Thank you for proving my faith true,” Si’Cara said, her voice barely a whisper. “Thank you, mistress.”

  There was an angry hiss from warden.

  Karus glanced over at the other elves and read surprise and shock, even with the wizard. Karus turned back to Si’Cara. She had fallen into what appeared to be a deep sleep. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

  Amarra stood slowly, almost painfully, as if her joints ached. Karus had never seen her look more bold, strong, and beautiful. She then turned to face the warden, her look stormy.

  “Do you require more proof?” Amarra asked.

  A look of rage made its way briefly across the warden’s face. It rapidly passed over to one that betrayed not a hint of emotion.

  “High Priestess of the High Father,” the warden said, her tone sounding suddenly respectful, “we welcome you to our land. How may we be of service to you?”

  “You know our purpose,” Amarra said. “We wish permission to travel to the Fortress of Radiance and retrieve that which we were commanded.”

  “What is hidden away within the fortress should remain there,” the warden said, seeming to regain a measure of herself. “Rarokan is a threat to everything that all peoples hold dear. Some may think it a holy weapon, but it is far more and incredibly dangerous. You should leave it be.”

  “If it is so dangerous …” Karus said, standing also. The old wound on his leg ached. He resisted massaging it. He shot Tal’Thor a disgusted l
ook. The ranger appeared badly shaken. His dagger had fallen from his hand and lay discarded on the floor a few feet away. Karus turned his gaze to the warden. “Then why would the High Father send us to retrieve it?”

  “As I’ve told you, we are only pawns in the Last War,” the warden said. “The gods care nothing for us and so we no longer partake in their eternal struggle. Yet long ago, while we still worshiped them, we were asked to take into trust that which should never have been created.” The warden paused. “I know why the High Father sent you. I knew the moment you arrived. I dreaded this day. Yet, it is not my place to interfere in your quest.”

  “You wanted her staff, demanded it even,” Karus spat. “It almost cost Si’Cara her life. I’d call that interfering.”

  “That was a test,” the warden said quietly. “I had to be sure. I had to be certain you are who you say you are. True healing has long been absent from this world. By restoring Si’Cara, you proved you are a disciple of the High Father.”

  Karus looked between the warden and Amarra. He was still rocked by the healing, but what the warden had just said hit him with as much force. He had known the great god had given her power, named Amarra his High Priestess, but to hear her named “disciple” struck home.

  “Then you will grant us access to the Fortress of Radiance?” Amarra asked.

  “No,” the warden said. “No, I will not.”

  “What game are you playing at?” Karus demanded, becoming irritated again. He was beginning to dislike elves in general.

  “I play only one game and that is of life for my people,” the warden said. She shifted her gaze to Amarra. “Though the fortress is in our lands, it is not mine to command. The gods saw to that.”

  “What do you mean?” Amarra asked.

  “Perhaps I can explain,” the wizard said, speaking up. “Long ago, the High Master, the leader of my order, cast upon the Fortress of Radiance powerful enchantments. The High Master enlisted several of the most dedicated of our warriors and wove their beings into the enchantments.”