The goblins in the area cheered as their fellow gront soldiers cowered and stayed clear of Gralanxth. Gralanxth then looked up at the upper causeway and saw the backs of the two kings. He yelled to all who would follow and charged up the stairs. Only minutes after the two kings closed and bolted the door, Gralanxth and his soldiers were there. Gralanxth began hacking the door with the sword and club simultaneously, while the goblins behind him began to chant their death march. Gralanxth slowed his rage and chopped at the door in tune with the chant. Thump, thump, thump, he pounded at the door, taking off shards and pieces of the door with every blow.
Keiyann began to say something, but Dar Drannon shook his head. “Wait. Help me first.”
Dar Drannon ran to the wall and started tearing down shelves against the wall. He threw artifacts, cups, and helms of honor to the ground. He then tore into the wall and removed a three-by-three piece of wood that looked like a stone block exposing a square hole in the wall. “Follow me,” Dar Drannon said as he slipped through the hole and disappeared.
Keiyann lunged in headfirst and followed. They crawled down the narrow tunnel until they came to an opening that was a small fifteen by fifteen foot room. The room was solid stone and on the walls hung many weapons, swords, shields, bows, and boxes full of arrows. “We can defend ourselves for quite a while here,” Dar Drannon said.
“Not long enough, I’m afraid.”
“True, but they can only come in one at a time, and we will kill them all, one by one. I built this shelter for a day such as today. I had planned to put Traelyn here to protect her from harm if such a thing happened. Of course, I hoped it would never come, but here we are, and us instead of Traelyn.”
Then they heard a large crash of the door in the council chambers coming down.
“Here, grab a bow and some arrows. It won’t be long before they figure out where we are.”
Finally, Gralanxth knocked the door off of its hinges and kicked it, shattering it into pieces flying across the room. The goblins, along with Gralanxth, charged into the room with a victory scream, but their excitement was soon silenced by Gralanxth’s loud roar when they noticed that their victims had somehow escaped.
Dar Drannon and Keiyann heard some scuffling and crashing of the goblins destroying the room, but it wasn’t long before they heard one of them crawling down the tunnel. Dar Drannon notched an arrow then shot into the tunnel. The goblin screamed as an arrow pierced his arm. Grimacing in pain, he crawled backwards out of the tunnel.
Gralanxth saw the retreating goblin, and grabbed him by the legs as he backed out, forcefully ripping him from the tunnel. He saw the arrow in his goblin soldier’s arm and realized that he was retreating from an attack. In frustration, he growled even louder and looked at the fear in his warrior’s face. The goblin wiggled as Gralanxth held him tight by his ankles then smashed his head repeatedly against the wall until he became limp in his hands before dropping the lifeless body to the floor.
Gralanxth issued further orders, and one by one, the goblins crawled into the tunnel. The two kings fired arrows into the hole, always killing the lead goblin. The goblins behind each dead warrior continued their advance by pushing their dead forward into the room. As soon as the dead goblins were clear, Dar Drannon and Keiyann continued to fire more arrows.
This tactic went on for many minutes, but only managed to fill the room up with dead goblins. Even so, the goblins grew weary of not making any successful advance, and backed out of the tunnel. Gralanxth could be heard issuing a new set of instructions as the goblins retrieved the bodies remaining within the small tunnel.
Once cleared, all became silent. The two kings stood with their arrows nocked and waited for the next assault. This time, instead of goblins, there came a barrage of lit arrows. Many hit the stone wall behind them and bounced to the floor, but some hit the dead goblins catching their clothes on fire.
Dar Drannon and Keiyann put out some of the fires before they became a problem, but so many arrows were coming through the tunnel that they could not reach them all. The smoke and the rancid smell of burning flesh permeated through the whole room. Soon, the smoke became so thick that Dar Drannon and Keiyann could hardly see each other.
Then the arrows stopped, and all was silent. The two kings took advantage of the pause to put out the smoldering clothes on the goblins, until a goblin crawled through the tunnel and into room. In his arms, he carried shards of wood from the furniture in the other room. Dar Drannon unsheathed his sword and easily skewered the unarmed goblin, but three more followed with more fuel for the fire.
Both Dar Drannon and Keiyann Krowe made easy work of the goblins, but as soon as they killed them, the fiery arrows began anew, this time catching the wood and starting a fire that quickly became uncontrollable.
Dar Drannon looked at his friend, fearing that the worst would come to pass.
“I told you earlier that I have a last resort, and now I will show you,” Keiyann yelled above the crackling timber.
“Then I guess now would be a good time,” Dar Drannon responded smiling, but looking as all hope was lost.
Keiyann withdrew his sword and gave it to Dar Drannon.
“What’s this?” Dar Drannon asked, taking the sword and shaking his head.
“It is called the sword of Valkilye, and we are about to fulfill its prophecy.”
“I cannot take the sword of your ancestors to my death.”
“That’s just it. You are not going to die, my friend. I may, but you will not.”
“I don’t understand. What does the prophecy say about me?”
“All you have to do is take the sword, and read the inscription. The future of this realm depends on this moment. Doing so will somehow bring this realm to unity.”
“What are you talking about? We are about to die! Look around. The flames are getting closer and very soon we will burn to death.”
“Read the inscription!” Keiyann said grabbing the blade and twisting it in Dar Drannon’s wrist so that the inscription faced the human king.
Dar Drannon wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked upon the sword. The flames began to consume the whole room. “I do not understand it. It’s in your elven language.”
“You don’t have to understand it, just speak the words written on the sword.”
Dar Drannon looked at the sword again, read the inscriptions from the hilt of the blade to the tip, and back again to the hilt. As he spoke the last word aloud he looked up and saw his friend beating away the flames from his legs, but as he did so he noticed that the elven king began to get smaller and smaller and the flames seemed to be frozen in time. Then like a cardboard cutout he saw the shape of Keiyann Krowe lift out of the room and delivered back to his own kingdom.
In a hazy blur devoid of smoke, but in a gray dizzying effect, Dar Drannon was then also lifted from the room. He looked down and could see his fortress below him. The enemy forces were destroying everything in his home. He saw the fires, the dead soldiers—human, elf, gront, and goblin. The destruction of what he had worked so hard to build. He now saw from an even higher elevation the whole realm of Wrae-Kronn—the civilizations, kingdoms, trading routes, and he realized that there was so much more to this realm than he had ever imagined.
As he continued to rise, everything began to fade to darkness, he wondered how he was to fit into the elven prophecy, and he thought of his daughter and how he wished he could see her just one more time.
Then, as if a wish was instantly granted, he saw her. His last sight within this realm was of Traelyn and Jaerick climbing out of the Sippling River. They were still a great distance away from the elven kingdom, but he could see a legion of elven riders charging in their direction. His final thoughts of her were a
little more comforted knowing that she would be safe with the elves.
* * *
Jaerick and Traelyn floated downstream until they were clear of the fortress and far away from the battle. Jaerick swam towards the riverbank and pulled Traelyn with him. As soon as he touched the dry gravel, he turned over on his back and looked to the sky in relief and exhaustion. Traelyn crawled out of the river, stood up, and kicked the gravel to the side of his face as she walked by. She turned and looked at her home as the smoke filled the sky above and around it. The smoky haze covered the fortress as if a death blanket was being laid over its massive walls.
“Father!” she screamed, then fell to her knees and wept. Jaerick hurried to her side and touched her back to soothe her, but she jerked her shoulders. “Go away!” She sobbed.
“Traelyn, we must continue. I don’t think we are safe yet.”
Traelyn turned to face him. “Why should I? Don’t you see my home? My father? Look. His ashes are probably mixed within the smoke lingering above our home, and you want me to continue on?”
Jaerick sat down, crossed his legs, and put his head in his hands. “This is my fault Traelyn. My father may also be dead, but there is hope.”
“What hope is there?” she snapped. “You saw those evil creatures, you saw the destruction!”
“There are things about this world that you don’t understand. Elven mysticism can be a very peculiar thing. Things happen that have been foretold for generations, and this is one of them.”
“No!” Traelyn screamed and ran away towards the woods. “I will not hear it! My father and I are not puppets of your people and your religion!”
Jaerick stood up and watched her run through the forest brush and onto the main road. He watched her until she was almost out of sight. The river’s rushing water flowed behind him and the noise of the current slapped the shore, crowding his thoughts. He shook his head, miffed and dejected, then hurried after her.
* * *
Keiyann Krowe was near unconscious lying by a brook near his castle when his soldiers found him. His clothes were nearly burnt away and his body had minor burns in several places. His soldiers brought him back to the castle and tended to his wounds. He was still being cared for when Jaerick entered his chambers.
“Father. How did you arrive before us?” he asked.
“The Sword of Valkilye brought me home.”
“I knew it! Then the sword belongs here and not with the humans.”
“No son, you don’t understand. I gave the sword to King Dar Drannon, just as the prophecy was written. As soon as he read the inscription upon the sword we both disappeared.”
“Then where is he?” He asked.
Traelyn ran into the room, her face flush from running up the stairs after Jaerick had left her at the entrance of the castle.
“Father? Where is my father?”
Keiyann sat up and leaned his back against the wall. “I’m not really sure, but he will return. The prophecy says he will one day return.”
“When will this happen?”
“I don’t know. It may be tomorrow, or it may not be for hundreds of years. That part of the prophecy is unclear.”
“Then where is he?”
Keiyann Krowe stood up and walked to Traelyn, grabbed her hands, but when he saw the pain in her eyes, he let go of her hands and hugged her. “I don’t know, but I do know that he loves you very much and wants to see you soon, and if it is up to him, he will return to see you again.”
“I hope so,” Traelyn said, crying on Keiyann’s shoulder.
* * *
Traelyn wiped her eyes. She had not realized the tears were flowing as she destroyed the last of the flowers. Her father had indeed returned, but not how she expected. There must be another way to bring him back permanently. Now that she had her memories returned to her, memories that she was sure the elves had somehow stripped from her, she was going to find a way. With a new determination to find Jaerick, she was going to find a way to bring her father back to this realm.
Chapter 10
King Jaerick entered the conference chambers. He was in a solemn mood and he had been putting off this meeting for several days for many reasons. Naemyn was the First Sorae, and had been the leader of the Sorae since the day Jaerick was crowned king, but this friendship still did not take away the hesitancy and distrust toward the group.
King Keiyann Krowe had created the Sorae to be the prophetic voice for the elven people, as well as the driving force in keeping the two elven tribes at peace. The quiet, passive, purist thinking Sor elves, which hold a direct link to Kronn and spiritual matters, constantly hold the intellectual Val elves at bay.
The Sor elves have been known to be a conduit of communication between the elven mystics directly to the high elven leaders. Even though his father’s intent was noble and just, it seemed to Jaerick that the Sorae was nothing more than a political hindrance using the gods for their own faction’s gains.
It was also because of the Val elves and their sense of duty, respect, and self-preservation that both tribes not only survived, but also thrived in this northern territory. The Val elves were not afraid to do whatever was necessary to protect their interests. If not for the Val Elves, the human tribes would have overrun the Sor elves long ago.
Six somber faced elves sat at the table. Always smug and defiant, Jaerick thought to himself as he sat upon the polished stone chair at the head of a table made from ancient cedars on the northern coasts. The six elves stood up, feigning respect, waiting until the king was fully seated before they would sit back down.
Jaerick, realizing this, frowned. “Be seated,” he commanded in a voice announcing his displeasure.
The Sorae also believed that they were the only direct link to any communication with their deities. They often used this factor for leverage in every disagreement. It was with these pompous attitudes of putting their ideals first before the concerns of the people that made Jaerick distrust and dislike the Sorae.
“I called you here as a favor to Naemyn,” he began.
“You should call more of these meetings my great king. As always, your word is revered and well respected among us,” said Sahven, who was subordinate to Naemyn.
“Yes, I am sure it is,” he said shaking his head, not surprised to hear such mock respect.
“Where has Naemyn gone to in such a hurry?” Laesting asked, bowing to Sahven for speaking out of turn.
“He has gone to the catacombs to assure that the Quarterstar Shard is still safely within its sacred place.”
All six of the Sorae sat straight up, shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Some then leaned back in their chairs and threw their heads back, while the others remained perfectly still. Then, almost at once, not heeding what the other was saying, they began yelling at the king.
As king, he felt he did not need to consult the Sorae. In fact, the Sorae did enough consulting by making their opinions known without Jaerick having to ask for them. He worked with them, if only for the alliance. As much as he disliked them, he could not simply disband the Sorae, or else there would be immediate dissention within the two races, and Jaerick did not want that. He knew of the importance that the king and Sorae work together, if nothing else to give the impression that the two races could live in harmony. They had done so for hundreds of years, and he did not want to disrupt that harmony.
“Why would he go to our sacred burial grounds? He should not go there when it is dangerous to do so,” Sahven said, as he stood asserting his authority.
“The Shard is dangerous! It cannot even be touched! It cannot be transported without the talisman. All who touch it, without it being housed in the talis
man will die.” Another responded.
“That’s right, and there are traps deep within the catacombs to protect it!” spoke another. “Only an elven keeper can even touch the Shard. If Naemyn just attempts to touch it, horrible things will happen.”
“You are right, and you know better than I do that according to prophecy, what originally the elven and dwarven gods could only do, now belongs to a descendant of Dar Drannon. I want to assure that none of his descendants have done this. I am certain that all of you would agree with my concerns.” Jaerick said as directly as possible without coming across to harsh.
“You are still wrong to command him to go there! Among all the things mentioned, there are hundreds of human tribes along the way, including the goblin tribes surrounding the catacombs! You, most of all, know this. This is why your people left and why you now live here in ancient Sor land,” Reprimanded Sahven.
Jaerick leaned forward, put his left elbow on his knee, and rubbed his chin. “This was not of my calling, and Naemyn is only obeying that calling. This mandate I have commanded comes from a higher source than mine,” he paused to wait for their pompous reaction. He had their attention at this, because he was alluding to the fact that he had conversation with a higher source than a king, which can only be their deity Val Eahea. He smiled, as they remained silent and attentive.
“I had a vision from Val Eahea.”
“Val Eahea would not speak directly to you without speaking to one of us.” Sahven mumbled, sitting down, obviously disturbed, while the others spoke simultaneously.
“And he hasn’t spoken to any of us,” finished another.
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