by D E Boske
The Dark Mage watched the exchange with new understanding. Darian had thoughtlessly exposed himself and now they had their way in. He would bide his time for the perfect opportunity. It was important that Darian feel safe. Safe enough to let his guard down and then he would strike mercilessly. He would take everything away from the impossibly young Shangmarrum.
Renlyss appeared and saw the look on Darian’s face as he looked upon a beautiful spectre. Her heart clenched and she felt hot, jealous anger rising to the surface but pushed it down. This woman had obviously meant something to her lover and she was clearly no threat. She stayed back to give them space but did not leave as she wanted to know what was happening.
Jalissa pulled Darian near to whisper in his ear. “My love, I miss you more than I ever thought possible. Watch your back! There is one among you who would see you dead. He’s tried hard but thankfully, he has not been successful. Do not mourn me for I am finally at peace and beyond The Order’s grasp. Go and build a life with the elf who loves you,” she gestured behind him and he turned, finding Renlyss standing there, unsure and near tears. He held his hand out to her and she came to him, trembling and hating herself for it.
“Watch over one another and be strong for him when he needs it, for he is too proud to tell you when he needs help.” Her words were meant for Renlyss and she nodded. “He is loyal and strong; he loves hard and deep. Never betray him, for he does not forgive.” She was fading, she’d been here too long on the material plane and was being called back. She was still talking but her words were lost to them.
“Who was she?” asked Renlyss once she could speak again.
“Someone I once knew,” he responded. He didn’t want to talk about Jalissa anymore because it pained him. But also, because he no longer mourned her loss and it wasn’t because she told him to stop. It was because of the vivacious elf at his side. He loved her more than he ever thought he could love someone. Hard and deep indeed, he thought. He didn’t have room in his life for any other woman, nor did he want any. He only wanted Renlyss.
He brought his lips to hers in a searing kiss and she opened herself to his wicked ways. They were lost for long moments in each other’s arms and Kelindril made sure they stayed that way. He watched all those who were near, feeling a darkness in one of them but he couldn’t speak to who it was. All the Mages were gathered ‘round, packed close, so the vibe came from all around.
“I can tell she meant something to you, who was she?” persisted Renlyss and Darian
frowned.
“She’s someone I once knew, that’s all. Do you know how much I love you?” he asked, completely throwing her off her game. She wanted to push him but Kelindril was shaking his head.
“How much, Mage?” she asked instead.
“I would show you if we were alone.” His words hinted at sinful desires and she wanted what he was not offering. They weren’t alone and he’d made it clear that he didn’t need distractions right now.
“The danger you and Hunter are in makes me crazy because it’s out of my control. If anything were to happen to either of you…”
“Nothing’s going to happen, love,” she assured. “Your protection spells are in place, right?” Renlyss asked, trying to assuage their fears. She felt exposed, weak, and she was terrified of what would happen to her lover. She didn’t know if he would live through the Dark Magic’s claim on him. The fact that he was also worried made her feel sick. He was the strongest man she knew. He’s always been so self-assured and confident. To see him falter…
“Aye, they are and shall remain so until my death. I doubt any alive could unravel the delicate, complex threads I weave. But that gives me little comfort these days. The Dark Mage has increased the pressure and is getting closer to his endgame. I’m having trouble resting as my nights are fraught with terrifying imagery. My only solace is you, Reny. You’re all I have in this world. You and Hunter are the most important people in my life. Without you… I…” he drifted off and tears stained her cheeks. If only she could heal his pain and fear. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.
Five days past the Lair of the Banshee, the air turned moist, and it appeared darker, more foreboding. Darian felt the Morgannate calling to him and hope soared through him. The book must be near if he could feel its pull. He looked around but didn’t see anything. The ground was flat, no hills or caves. If he were the Dark Mage, where would he hide the book?
He looked around, going to his hands and knees, feeling for anything out of place. Kelindril ordered the Gor Li’ Khan to search but not go too far from Darian. The Dark Mage chuckled silently to himself as he watched them all flounder around for the book. They’d never find it! His master made sure it was well hidden. Only the Weave knew where.
The book’s pull seemed to be coming from everywhere, so Darian could not pinpoint the exact location. The young Mage searched for what seemed like hours for any hint of the book’s hiding place.
A foul odor blew in and Kelindril had his blades ready. The elf could hear snarls and snaps coming from the gloom but could make out no forms. The Gor Li’ Khan exploded into action, blades slicing and severing. Howls of pain, screams of terror, and rage erupted around
them.
Torgyn Ro shook with fear but Mordinian was there beside him, reassuring him with his expert swordplay. The young Bard took out his lyre and began to play. The words seemed to come to him like never before. This was his first creation; he could feel its power in his bones.
As Torgyn sang, voice pure and strong, the battle raged around them. A group of skeletons charged them, weapons raised, but they never got close. Darian cast a quick cantrip in a clipped voice and they exploded in a shower of bone dust. Shaz coughed as the dust invaded his lungs, but the Mage did not apologize.
The next wave of dead was more formidable and would require more than sword and steel. A wave of Lich’s appeared from the fog, tattered robes trailing behind them. Aganor hissed in irritation and began chanting the words to his spell. As the other Mages hit their climax, Darian harnessed their power and directed it at the Lichs. The powerful magic swept through them, rendering them back to the earth. Kelindril and the Gor Li’ Khan went to their knees from the enormous pull on the Weave. Nym vomited from the overwhelming vibration assaulting his senses, his nerves raw and he felt shaky and weak.
Darian Brade is Delvishan’s chosen
His power puts all others to shame
The spells he has at his disposal
Can lay large cities and worlds to waste
The Staff of Power he wields with care
Lest ye all fall before him beware
Darian raised the Staff of Power, bringing it to its full height. The orb glowed a fierce red, angry and belligerent like its wielder. He chanted, aiming his staff at the approaching hoard of Benal, a dire breed of Shade. Darkness swirled around them and a low humming noise emanated around them the closer the Benal came.
Hunter watched Darian closely, his little face awestruck as he watched his Da command the powerful magic. The look on Darian’s face was rapturous but Hunter thought his Da looked happy. He wanted him to be happy. He didn’t really remember anything before meeting Da that day. He clung to him, afraid that he’d leave him alone. He loved his mother but not like his Da. His Da was everything to him. His Da had saved him. His Da protected him and kept him warm and safe.
Darian released the Staff’s magic and it flew toward the group of Benal, knocking them back a few feet, but it didn’t stop them. Regrouping quickly, they came on, now targeting the tall
Mage with the staff.
Darian grinned, eager for the challenge and donned his battle ring. He began casting in earnest, focusing all his energy on the advancing enemy. He let loose a string of spells, each designed for a specific purpose. The first spell stunned them, slowing them down. He sent a fireball at the shades and they screamed in fury, the flames licking at their incorporeal forms. The humming noise grew louder as the shades drew near, the static hum ma
king their ears buzz.
The lightening spell tore through them, disintegrating them on contact. Their dying screams of anger hung in the air as they faded from sight.
The Order shunned him, one of their own
He fought and lost so much of his soul
To the baleful fight the Dark Mage brings
Mage pay heed to the Weave as she sings
The seer at your side will help you see
The righteous path to your destiny
Darian heard Torgyn’s words and focused his attention on finding the book. They could keep fighting, but he didn’t know how long they’d last. He felt the only way to stop the flow of dead was to find the damned book. The battle raged around him but he blocked it out. He needed to hear the Weave.
It took him a moment to isolate the Weave’s whispered words. He closed his eyes and placed his trust in Delvishan, his own magic, and the Weave. He navigated the battlefield without the use of his eyes, the Gor Li’ Khan close by, keeping him safe.
The Weave pulled Darian toward it, urging him to find the book. The Weave wanted Darian to find the book. In Darian’s capable hands, The Order would become more powerful than it ever was. Delvishan wanted the young Mage to find the book and the Weave wanted Darian to wield its power. Darian had supreme control and knowledge, which the Weave desired. In the young Mage’s hands, the Weave felt alive.
Darian continued to follow the Weave’s pull. He didn’t open his eyes even when he heard
the Gor Li’ Khan gasp in surprise. An inhuman growl broke the tight space they found themselves in and Darian felt the book’s nearness. He knew this would be an important battle. The book’s protector would not fall so easily.
The Black One wakes, he opened his eyes
Now pay heed to Corillia’s cries
They’ll crawl on their knees’n grovel in vain
They’ll live and die and bleed in pain
Black fire cleanses and purges the soul
Pray to the gods to make me whole
Darian stumbled to the left and went down to one knee as whatever was protecting the book hit him in the chest, knocking him off balance. The young Mage felt hot breath on the back of his neck and instinctively struck with his elvish dagger. Darian felt the blade tear through flesh and muscle, heard the beast scream in agony, but the book’s guardian would not be defeated so easily.
The Weave urged Darian on and the Mage had a spell ready but the book’s champion attacked fiercely. The young Mage felt something puncture his left arm and something hot and wet soaked through his sleeve. He opened his eyes to find a large hole in his bicep, eyes searching… There! He saw his attacker dodging through the shadows and looked around to get his bearings.
Oh Corillia, can you hear me?
Stand with him now and banish your fear
The night has come so dark and deep
Lose this battle and your soul he’ll reap
The long night’s begun we’ve far to go
Afore we smite this dangerous foe
Oh Corillia, can you hear me?
Pray to the gods for their sweet mercy
For the Dark Mage comes, he comes for us all
Commanding the Black, Corillia falls
Battered and broken a hero arose
No longer conflicted, he dons his blue robes
The Weave felt Darian’s strength, even wounded, he did not waver nor did he lose control of his magic. Darian felt the Weave’s insistence and followed it with the guardian on his heels. The Gor Li’ Khan intercepted, striking hard and without mercy. Darian was bleeding everywhere and it seemed to incite the beast but the elven assassins would not give ground. Darian, his consort and child were protected, the ring of Gor Li’ Khan surrounding them was deep, and they protected them fiercely.
A mortal cry broke their concentration as they were about to strike out at the guardian. Betremen was torn apart, his lifeblood spattering any close enough. Declan was screaming, Betremen’s hand still clutched in his tight grasp. They were bound with Darian’s magic and Declan tried to get Betremen out of harm’s way but the guardian was everywhere and nowhere. All that remained of the Mage was the arm still in Declan’s grip.
Once he realized he was still holding Betremen’s arm, he let it fall to the ground. This would not break him, he swore. He’d lived through terrors such as very few would believe. He could make it through this.
O Corillia, can you hear me?
The Black One’s free and ravages the earth
Cities will burn and turn to ash
Darkness falls and swallows the land
It steals our breath and murders our hope
Turn the tide now or reap your reward
O Corillia, can you hear me?
It was almost silent as the final notes of the Bard’s voice faded into memory, the dense fog swallowing the sound completely. Darian was looking at Torgyn Ro with an unreadable expression and the Bard wasn’t sure what it meant. He’d poured his heart into the song, feeling each word, each note, and the emotions of those present. He fed off them, giving new life to his first ballad.
Mordinian was still beside him, and Torgyn realized the thief had protected him. The dead lay scattered about, devastating in number. There were Gor Li’ Khan, forest elves, and a host of creatures from the Haunted Lands.
“Darian! Find it! Shouted Kelindril. “We’ll hold it back as long as possible. Get the book!”
Darian tuned everything out, focusing only on the Weave and let it guide him. Once more, he closed his eyes and felt a sharp tug on his magic. It jerked him so hard, it nearly cost him his footing. An elf screamed in mortal pain and the young Mage felt Shenna near. He redoubled his efforts to find the book and could only hope it wasn’t Kel, Nym, or Brandiel. He knew they wouldn’t all make it out alive, it was foolish to believe it could be done, but he wanted it just
the same.
A strong vibration hit the young Mage solidly in the head and he knew he had it. The book was right here, but not. The guardian beat at the Gor Li’ Khan’s defense, desperate to break through the line but the Gor Li’ Khan stood firm, turning away attack after attack.
The Gor Li’ Khan finished off the guardian and it fell in a bloody heap.
Darian opened a portal, reaching between planes and felt something thick and heavy. It was old, bound in leather, he thought. When he touched it, the book whispered his name.
“Darian Brade, I am The Morgannate.”