by D L Goddard
The Crown Prince smiled a heart breakingly beautiful smile. He looked truly noble and impossibly handsome in that moment. His love for his beloved Anya was there for her to see. Tears fell without Anya realizing she was weeping. She felt how deeply he loved her and she knew she would always remember this perfect moment with her mate.
He kissed her then, a long lingering kiss that faded on her lips as her wonderful beloved Arahir was pulled back into the dungeons with the Enchantress once more.
**********
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alexandros held a huge war mallet above his head. The door shuddered under the impact almost bouncing in its hinges, but still … it held. The heft of the great weapon was very satisfying as he swung it through the air with all his might. Once more the dungeon door shook groaning in the huge bolted hinges, and once again … the door held. Maddened beyond reason, the great Troll put everything into the final swing only have the mallet shatter and splinter against the still solid dungeon door. Frustrated, he threw the handle away almost knocking out Keplin who ducked in the nick of time, narrowly avoiding having ribs broken, so swiftly was the massive handle traveling. Keplin exhaled noisily grateful to have escaped serious injury.
Keplin and Alexandros had been doggedly working at the dungeon doors. There seemed to be no end to them. He was aware that Lirima had a very strong strengthening spell placed over every door leading to the lower dungeons where she had taken Arahir and Savage. She had used the Keeper’s blood, a drop only in each lock to ensure the spell held making it seemingly impossible to smash the doors. Nothing she could have used in the castle was stronger than the blood of the Keeper and it made the doors almost impossible to breach; so far anyway. Keplin, Alexandros and their company of one hundred and fifty Ogres, thanks to the Enchantress’ blasting spells, their numbers had reduced dramatically; it seemed they were the only hope for the Keeper. And as yet, they hadn’t even managed to break down the first door.
Even so, the Troll amazed Keplin. He was determined to rescue Arahir no matter the cost to himself. The huge giant was bleeding and bruised almost everywhere, but nothing deterred him from his course. Arahir was his friend and he would save him regardless of what the Enchantress threw at them. Especially as Alexandros was the only one of them who could see the magic before it harmed anyone else. So the great-hearted Troll went in first and took the brunt of the attack. He withstood blast after blast that erupted each time he hammered the door, but nothing slowed him down, he seemed invulnerable. But still, as often as he managed to attack the dungeon door … magical attacks of varying kinds and degrees spewed out at him trying to get Alexandros to stop. Instead it only made the Troll more determined. It was so infuriating, for all his efforts … they hadn’t got past the first door and Alexandros just wanted to rip the door right off its hinges. But even with his great strength and size, he was unable to do any damage at all. He was feeling frantic worried he would be too late.
The Troll King stood glaring at the door. He knew the closer they got to where the Keeper was being held, the harder the magic would be to breach. Keplin with his powerful magic and the constant battering on the doors by Alexandros, should have destroyed anything in their path, but the struggle seemed endless. Even though the Troll King could see her magic, it didn’t necessarily mean he could break it. Alexandros felt defeated … he had failed … they would be too late. He made a promise to help the Keeper, his friend; he would not break his promise, but if they were too late, they would have lost everything and Lirima would have won.
He slumped to the stone flags that led to the downward steps and flopped against his backpack. Immediately a fragrant perfume filled the air and Alexandros inhaled deeply. It was the Keeper’s roses. Digging frantically through his gear, he pulled out the three huge roses, one slightly crushed from his lack of care. Calling Keplin over and then, the rest of the Ogres, he bade them come together as closely as possible. He wanted as many new ideas as possible to try and help them get past Lirima’s magic.
The Ogres formed a circle with Alexandros and Keplin at the center. Packing themselves as tightly together as possible, doing exactly what the Troll King demonstrated, they were ready. Alexandros crushed the blood roses together in his huge hands. As soon as the first petal bruised, the rich fragrance lifted their spirits. The Troll kept on going feeling better and better, clearer minded and thinking with greater clarity. The wonderful lingering scent filled the space they were in and the spirits of every one there felt lifted, invigorated and ready to take on the challenge once more. They all felt surer of themselves and suddenly, everyone was smiling and speaking at once.
Keplin was searching his mind for a spell to help them against the impossibly difficult arcane spells she had used. He had been staring at the door and trying to find a weakness when he chanced to glance at the Troll King. He thought he saw a flash of something as Alexandros moved and he tried to see if he had been right. Alexandros turned to Marcos to listen to what the Ogre was saying when Keplin saw the flash of light again. Something the Troll was wearing was glowing with magic. He wondered if Alexandros even knew.
Determined to satisfy his curiosity, Keplin focused a seeking magic on the Troll and was almost knocked backward when Alexandros’ sword and sheath burst into a bright indigo blaze. Stunned the Troll roared in surprise and anger that Keplin had tried his magic on him. He stormed over to the prone Wizard and grabbed him by the front of his clothes
She seemed hesitant, and he realized that the Wizard had made himself so like the Keeper, even to his scent that the Light had been fooled into thinking Adan had returned. But only when the Wizard could not access the portal did she realize it was an imposter and began fighting back. The Wizard had been using some very powerful black magic to try and breach the portal. The Light was frantic, but couldn’t contact Adan to call him home.
Realizing Adan was her beloved Keeper she brought both him and the Troll Prince into the very center of herself. The Keeper and the Light worked hard to revive young Alexios and just being inside the Light healed him of most of his wounds. But the Wizard that was attacking the sanctum was so powerful that something quite extraordinary was going to be needed to overcome his powers.
The Light had meanwhile been making friends with the Troll and had been so impressed with his nobility of character and goodness of spirit that she was able to use his inner strength and combine it with her own spark and that of the Keeper. She called the Keeper’s flame. As she placed the spark into Adan, the Light told Alexios to reach into the hottest part of the flame with his right hand and keep it there until he felt a solid weight. Alexios did as he was told; he placed his right hand directly into what he thought was the heart of the indigo flame. Screaming in agony, he watched his skin begin to bubble, then melt as the flamed seared and scorched his skin. By the time the young Prince felt the weight in his hand and tried to grasp the thing properly, he had totally lost his voice from screaming.
Slowly he pulled the thing from the blazing inferno; he realized he was holding a flickering sword of indigo flame. And even though he felt the hilt and the weight of the heavy weapon, it was hard to focus on something that seemed to fade in and out as he swung it to get the feel of the balance in his hand. It was also excruciatingly painful using his raw burned hand. But Alexios persisted and found as he used his hand, he regained his ability to move his fingers as well as his strength. Even so, he never regained the appearance of anything but the horribly burned and melted skin. Alexios’ hand truly looked macabre but once some of the flexibility returned, the twisted, scarred appearance bothered the Troll Prince not at all.
The Keeper looked at the Sword in amazement. It flickered and glimmered and then seemed to not really be there at all. If it wasn’t for the solid weight and the hilt in Alexios’ hand, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to believe what he was seeing either. It was as if the sword was in many places at once and constantly shifting. A lovely soft voice spoke to them both.
&nbs
p; “This is the Doros Sword, a very special Gift from the Light. It is part of my actual essence. With this sword you will have the use of my magic fighting alongside you. Nothing that enters my home can withstand the power of the Doros Sword. And with the heart of the user entering in to blend with the magic of each user, the sword will grow even stronger. Make sure you care for it Alexios, for as you pass it down to your descendants, they too will add the nobility of their character and the greatness of their love and devotion and the goodness of their heart as well.
The Prince looked at the sword in awe as Adan spoke a gentle warning.
“Treasure this sword my friend and always keep it close, for I know that one day, this sword will be all that keeps our worlds from cataclysmic war.”
Adan’s eyes were gentle as he ran his long fingers over the hideous scarring.
“This is a badge of Honor my friend, treat it as such and get your family and your people to do so. This scarring will always be a sign of trust and friendship between the Keeper of Castle Barshael and the world of Laconia. Remember my friend, your sword will one day will save us all.”
The Keeper and Alexios then fought the strange Wizard that had tried to pretend he was Adan to gain entry to the sanctum. It was a long hard fought battle but when the Doros Sword came into play with Alexios getting close enough to use the sword against him; the Wizard was banished, sent through the portal he had entered by and having it sealed behind him. All they knew of the attack was an unknown Wizard used magic to pass himself off as the Keeper. If it hadn’t been for the tiny little unknown fact that had been kept secret from everyone but the Keeper and the Light, the Wizard would have succeeded. None of the worlds were aware of the nature of the Keeper and the elementals of Serenor kept their true nature to themselves. Without the dual nature of the fire elemental, none could enter the Living Light, although if they were the mate of the Keeper, the Living Light allowed passage into the sanctum if they were tied to the Keeper with a strand of fire. Those were the only exceptions and that secret had kept the Light safe for millennia.
**********
Keplin looked up at the flickering flame in Alexandros’ fist. He had worn the sword into battle countless times, but had never known how to use it. He worried that it would be useless as a real weapon and had kept his double-bladed battle axe instead. His father had always told him to keep the sword with him always, but the sword would tell him how and when to use it. Well … this was the first time the blade had burst into flame in his memory or the memory of his father or his grandfather. ‘What was he supposed to do with it?’
Marcos stood and walked up to Alexandros bowing in deep submission.
“I feel I should explain a few things to you to help you understand what has happened between our worlds. You see things have become increasingly clearer when we inhaled the Keeper’s rose. Finally we know what has been happening … we have the complete picture at last. We truly have discovered about the past and the Enchantress’ designs for the Light. You see … our Enchantress when we first saw her and were so captivated by her, always told us her ancestor was the rightful heir to the Living Light. He had been evicted by a Troll and a Fey who then banished him from the castle and blocked the portal while he was still living. Only with his death would our people be able to travel once more.
You must remember just how beautiful she really is, and she brought her full charm and beauty to bear in convincing us of her right to rule, to owe her our allegiance. Before we knew what had happened, she had been made Queen of our world and we were blindly following everything she demanded. When our people began disappearing … Lirima told us the Trolls were taking them as slaves and using hidden portals to get to our world. So convincing was she that thousands of our men, all warriors, were sent through rips she had created between our worlds. We searched all through your world, but it seemed no matter how hard we looked, there was no sign of our missing people and worse still, no sign of the children that had been stolen.
Unfortunately … thousands of angry Ogres tearing apart villages and the peaceful countryside were bound to have an adverse effect on the once happy populace. We managed to kill so many just as your people slaughtered thousands of us. We had no idea the war was just to keep us fully occupied so she could carry out the horrific magical sacrifices and continue to steal away our children while we were under the impression that it was your peoples’ doing.”
Marcos knelt, tears in his eyes at the thought of all the wasted lives, the senseless slaughter instigated by the Enchantress. Alexandros knelt down and pulled the Ogre into a rib-cracking bear hug. He too felt shock and fury at the way their people had been used as a scapegoat for the Enchantress’ evil experiments. How could one woman, so unbelievably beautiful of face and body that made a man yearn for her attention, be so malevolent? The Keeper had seen through her immediately, but he seemed to have been the only one. She was the most insidiously evil creature; the worlds would be purer, cleaner … just by her death. The uncounted death and destruction one woman had caused so many innocent folk could not be reckoned. But now … he hoped they had the weapon to finally put an end to her evil.
The two giants grinned at one another; the sight was terrifying. They were now ready to hunt. And Alexandros realized he had made a friend for life. Marcos felt such deep remorse for all the evil his people had done to the innocent Trolls. But finally, they both had a chance to correct so many terrible crimes by making the Enchantress answer for her sins. Relief filled them and they faced the Wizard.
“I think it’s time to go and save the Keeper … are you ready my friend?”
Keplin looked into the savage faces of Marcos and Alexandros. He smiled giving a sharp nod of assent. The Troll and the Ogre’s smiles grew even wider as the same feral grin on their faces was reflected in the Wizard Keplin’s usually friendly features.
Alexandros turned sweeping the sword high overhead in one smooth practiced movement. He brought it down in a single fluid motion that saw the heavy dungeon door being cut in half, like a hot knife through butter. Marcos pulled the Troll King off his feet and out of the way seconds before the door exploded outward. The Ogres and Alexandros with Keplin who had tried to shield them all to the best of his ability, all to no avail, they were all sent flying; crashing into walls and sliding heavily along the polished floors.
The shattered warriors staggered to their feet bloodied and bruised, some cradling obviously broken limbs or ribs. It had been a mammoth backlash that had severely injured all but on the final count … fifteen Ogres. Out of One hundred and fifty that had been standing closely behind Marcos and Keplin as they watched the Troll King break the spell holding the dungeon door; thirty Ogres had been killed instantly with the immensely powerful blast, forty-seven were so severely wounded they were unable to stand or even use their weapons. The rest bar the standing fifteen, were cut and scratched so badly that they decided to stay and watch over the rest of their companions.
With one swift spell, the Enchantress had just about destroyed their forces. It staggered their minds but it only made the three taking care of the wounded more determined than ever. Their hearts were hard as stone, and the callous act of destruction she knew would happen if they managed to find a way through her door spell just reminded them what an evil cold hearted bitch she really was in spite of the glorious exterior.
The way was now clear … the wounded were being tended. The Light sent them medical supplies. But many of the wounded needed to be sent home to be cared for, they were so weak and had lost so much blood that if they didn’t get immediate help, more innocent lives would be lost. Unfortunately, there was no way to take them home. The hallway looked like a charnel house and until the Enchantress and her lapdog Savage were stopped, there was really nothing more they could do.
Making their comrades as comfortable as possible, the trio followed by the remaining fifteen Ogres stood resolutely in the now empty doorway. The stygian darkness was absolute giving them no indication of
what lay beyond. The silence after the huge eruption was unnerving. They really couldn’t see a thing. The Wizard used a torch in the bracket just inside the door frame. Lighting it should have given them some idea of what was beyond. Instead … there was nothing.
The three men stared at each other. Alexandros shrugged his massive shoulders in resignation.
“Well gentlemen … the adventure lies in the darkness. And if my ears don’t deceive me … our enemy has left us something to play with as well. Are we ready?”
The entire group nodded, for they too heard the soft sound of something huge sliding over the stone flags. Gripping weapons firmly in tense fists, and with Keplin’s blue fire ready at his fingertips, the Ogres … fifteen warriors plus their leader Marcos, the mighty warrior Alexandros, champion of the Troll people and High King of Laconia stepped aside to allow the Wizard Keplin to lead them into the impenetrable darkness.
Keplin lifted his hand high trying to shed light on the creature that waited for them. There was a roaring scream, the last warrior entered to have his life torn savagely from him. He disappeared in the darkness without any inkling of what had taken him. The men grouped together, in a loose circle facing every direction with Keplin in the center the torch held high but only penetrating about six feet in front of them.
They stood that way, a halo of light in a sea of darkness when they felt rather than saw an immense bulk looming over them. Two slanted green eyes glared at them with a look so full of malevolence that the Ogres hearts failed them. They broke ranks and fled, back the way they had so carefully come. A powerful burst of black flame enveloped them as they ran, incinerating most of the Ogres on the spot, blackening those that were lucky enough to have escaped immediate immolation. The smell of cooked flesh filled their nostrils making them gag and retch, their guts heaving.
