“No way, love! I know yer kind! Ya best be leavin’ mah body alone! Well, depends on what yer willin’ to do with it…” He paused for a second, staring at me with a raised eyebrow and taunting smile.
“You disgust me.” I spat out the words with absolute abhorrence.
“Speaking of tha deceased…” Kilmore said, trailing off his terrible flirting, “I don’t even know where they are!”
‘Hmm, a wizard, an elf and a necromancer traveling together? And I thought we were strange!” Ulric thought. Carlaylin turned around to face him once more and immediately tried to change the subject and steer it right to where the conversation was before I crashed their little party (literally).
“Yeah, this is all very stimulating, but back to more important business… how do you know me?”
“Aren’t you that girl we were possessed to kill?”
“Yes, you got me.”
“But how were you able to survive out there all alone. You were but only a little girl! Or perhaps you had someone else to take care of you…?”
“No, I was left in the cold grasp of solitude. I managed to make my way to the nearest town of Thorodan. If word travels as far as to even Elimor, you might recognise me as the waitress working at the inn.”
“But zat waitress was fired,” Fendril stated, clearly playing on Carlaylin’s nerves.
“It’s still me, you dolt! Quit, by the way, not fired.” Fendril slowly nodded in deep thought.
Ulric’s expression suddenly turned solemn, his mind drifting to other matters far more important than the past. “Come. Follow me. I need to show you something.” Carlaylin remained silent. She was hesitant, but ended up doing as he asked. I decided to tag along just in case someone tried to kill another and or I might find a dead corpse at wherever we were heading. Either way, I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world!
CHAPTER 8
A KEY REVEALED
CARLAYLIN
WE ENTERED THROUGH THE LARGE door beyond the platform. The chamber beyond had an octagon basis, quite small in comparison to the whole ruin outside where we stood at first. Yet, no one could argue about the towering height of the magnificent stone pillars and ceiling that disappeared far into the gloom beyond.
It succeeded in displaying the true glory of Elimor. Rays of dim grey light fell into the chamber through the large open windows located up top. Nemtris must have been in seventh heaven as the ground was littered with dust and spider webs and ancient draugr that were never to be reawakened again.
They piled on one another like ancient heroes who had failed to reach the pedestal and slay the dark creatures that had once guarded Elimor centuries ago. They looked like beings from Sir Daniel’s time, and even earlier.
In the middle of the empty chamber stood but a single marble pedestal, adorned by fine designs and a wide surface. It displayed one large hole in the middle with six smaller ones circling it on its rim, all evenly spaced. The only difference beside their size was that the largest one in the middle was designed to hold something quite particular…
“What is this place?” I asked as I examined the pedestal up close with eager eyes. My voice echoed and bounced off the old, dark stone walls. “We took it upon ourselves to call it the Chamber of Fires,” Ulric said, “I hate to admit it, but without this, the prophecy will cease to be fulfilled and would be… meaningless.”
I flashed him a 1uick teasing gaze.
“Oh, so fate gave you the duty as the keepers of … a plinth.” Ulric folded his arms as he slowly said, “Ha, ha, very funny.”
He didn’t seem very amused.
A thought suddenly occurred to me as my gaze swept the surface of the pedestal. My lips were pursed into a thin line of possibility. I pulled myself away. For a moment my eyes wandered the empty chamber aimlessly before I finally focused it on my satchel, still hanging by my side after all these months.
What if…
Without warning, I reached into the satchel and retrieved a circular artefact of fragile glass. A golden figure that looked like a Chinese dragon circled the ball and clutched its top as though it were its own. My eyes were fixed on the artefact, grim memories rushing through my mind. I gulped, trying to ignore the feeling of a marble stuck in my throat.
Ulric looked more surprised than anyone else in the room. Truth be told, it was just us three.
The other four might have enjoyed themselves in keeping Justin company for the time being. I somewhat regretted leaving him alone with them.
It wasn’t long until I noticed Nemtris’ expression. It was clear that she found no importance in this artefact, but it didn’t take her long to realise what it truly was and what it was capable of accomplishing.
She, too, started to realise the importance and identity of this glass ball.
It was the Star of Hallos. By the looks of her raised eyebrows, I’d say she never imagined to one day see it with her very own eyes. The chamber was in absolute silence. I painstakingly placed the artefact upon the podium. It was a perfect match.
“Oh, my – Where did you get this?” Ulric asked, completely mystified, his mind probably engulfed by endless queries.
“It’s a long story. Trust me, you really don’t want to know, less so have the time.”
I know. Strange words towards a being of spectral proportion that probably has an eternity on his hands.
With me, everything might as well be a long story! What? Ever been in my shoes? Just try to imagine the trouble I’ve went through to acquire this damned piece of glass. I dare you. I even had the honour of killing a gigantic Minotaur before it got the pleasure of killing me first.
Ulric leaned in closer, looking somewhat concerned.
“Do you even know of the true power contained within this glass sceptre?”
“It’s just a ball of sparkles! Nevertheless, I think I’ve been through enough experience to know rather a bit about this artefact.”
I figured that Nemtris intended on getting out of here in attempt to miss a long explanation about to follow, but alas it was too late, for Ulric already started.
“The Artemilis, or the Star of Hallos, as you mortals call it, is more than what’s visible to the naked eye. This piece contains the very soul of Thorodan, Dragon of Fire, defeated long ago in battle.”
My heart skipped a beat. My eyes widened and shock pulsed through my body. Not to mention the panic that had my heart slamming against my ribcage.
I swallowed a choke of air and cursed under my breath.
“You mean to tell me that I have been carrying a dragon’s soul in my bag all this time and I didn’t even know it?!”
Imagine the heart attack I had. All Ulric could do was nod slightly, pitying me for this sudden state of dread.
“Exactly, but you had no reason to fret as long as the Artemilis is still intact. Once it is broken, Thorodan’s soul would be released.”
I couldn’t hold back the yelp I’ve been holding in the moment he told me. If I were incontinent, I would have been jumping around, pulling out my hair and jumping into Nemtris’ arms. Of course my eye started to twitch and my eyes widened the biggest they could possibly manage.
“Seriously!” I yelled, absolutely freaked out beyond words could explain. “And all I’ve been doing with it!”
Both Ulric and Nemtris stared at me, their faces slightly screwed with the pain of my words to come.
They were most probably expecting the worst.
“I’ve been swinging it around,” the two winced, “poking it with a dagger,” the two sucked air in between their teeth, “and played ten-pin-bowling!”
The last was too much too bear and they pulled themselves away with a flinch, Nemtris giving herself a head palm and Ulric clasping his mouth as he shot his gaze elsewhere. I’ve been a bigger idiot than I had first thought. No doubt these two couldn’t deny. No, not one bit.
“I’m devastated!” I admitted, the shock starting to wear off and turn into sadness and regret. It wasn’t until Ulric
stepped forward and broke the silence that when I pulled myself together.
“Yes, but do remember that whatever treacheries you have wreaked upon this artefact, it is all in the past. We have to focus on our current task.” I sighed and agreed.
“Now, of course it wouldn’t be of much peril on its own, but I’m sure you have heard about the sorcerer Zeldin and his devilish intentions?”
My face fell to a loathing frown the moment I heard that name. I hated that guy with absolutely everything I had. Heck, if I could stab him once or twice that would make my day. No, make that a week!
“By this time, I’m sure it’s nearly impossible not to know.”
Ulric replied with a single nod to prove the point.
“Yes, and by his actions it is possible for Thorodan’s soul to reunite with its shadow and body in order for his existence once more.”
An image of my earlier travels came to mind. It was the memory of the silhouette of a black dragon gliding overhead the Village of Water and into a direction unknown to me.
At the time I thought it to be Tarauntis, trigger happy and ready to burn down some villages, but I guess I was wrong. It must’ve been the shadow of Thorodan all along… All that is left is his body and soul. Yet, for all we know he might already have the body too.
Basically, I have been holding the sole key to Ysellian’s safety or total destruction.
Heavyweight champion of the world.
“Is there any way to stop this ritual before it’s completed?” I asked.
There was a moment of uneasy silence as Ulric paged his thoughts, shooting his gaze at the Star of Halos (or the so-called Artemilis).
“Many say that there is no way of stopping the ritual once it has begun, but they know of no better. They are not aware of the Star. This is perhaps why Elimor guards the only key to our triumph.”
I looked at the pedestal. “Once this sacred ritual has begun, there will come a time where the Artemilis will be destroyed in order to gain the soul, but destroying the artefact may also be the only way of ridding this world of Thorodan for good. It is a great risk, but I am devoted on taking it.”
After a minute passed by, I returned my eyes to face Ulric, noticing a question clearly bothering him. He leaned closer but slightly and softly asked, “Do you, by any chance, have the dagger?”
Now, imagine how awkward this would’ve been if I didn’t... I immediately knew what he was referring to and dug into my satchel one last time, only to slowly withdraw the sacred dagger in order to feast on its glorious sight. It was a three-bladed dagger of the same material as the Artemilis. It even had its own miniature dragon grasping the top to match, swirling all the way around and up the hilt.
With caution I aimed it down at the Star. For a moment all eyes were focused on me, followed by silence, filled with eagerness and curiosity. I gradually pushed the blade into the triangular key located at the top of the golden dragon’s head on the star. It fitted like a glove.
The soon as I placed it within, I gave a few steps back for the fear of something big to happen. The other two decided to copy and stood back, but the silence and interest turned out to be all for nought as time passed by without as much as a single spark.
“Wow, now that’s what I call a rip off,” Nemtris stated, predictably appearing to be unsurprised. A frown spread across my face in link with the flawed happenings.
Nemtris may be right… this was indeed very disappointing.
“Hmm… nothing happened. To say the truth… I’m rather… disappointed.” Ulric seemed to be caught in the same surprise, but soon fixed his eyes on the pedestal itself.
“Then I guess these six smaller holes will help serve the purpose we’ve long been hoping for.”
My eyes followed Ulric as he began to search the dusty chamber. My head tilted in question at what he was doing.
Although the chamber was riddled with broken structures and piles of dust gathering in the corners – the place clearly not at its fullest glory as what it used to be – Ulric did manage to salvage something useful from the mess.
Tightly grasped together in both his arms were six small glass jars. He carefully made his way back to Nemtris and I.
“Here. Take these.” He handed them to me. Of course I didn’t hesitate to stuff them all disorderly into my satchel, but I was sure to be careful. Ulric noticed and comforted, “Don’t fret. They are somewhat unbreakable. Or at least that’s what the merchant said… Yet again, he didn’t look strictly truthful.”
With my mind slightly at ease I just threw them all in. Yet, I noticed Nemtris’ sinister grin. This was an inside joke. I do hate it when she assumes this to be my ‘handbag’. Such nerves… I failed to fight back a scowl.
“What are these for?”
Ulric’s expression turned solemn, Nemtris stepping closer in curiosity and probably the hope of things to get messy…
Dream on, hag.
“If what I know is correct, you’ll need to collect each of the elemental Dragon Lords’ long-lasting fires and store them in those jars. And this includes the Dragon of Death and life.”
My mind exchanged to the thought of me carrying six little jars in my satchel like some sort of sweet little girl, off to collect some fairy dust! Oh, the wonderful wonders! I can just give a hip and a skip. I can only imagine it… No thank you.
“Are these really necessary?” I asked, trying to guilt trip him with my expression, hoping to succeed in changing his mind.
“Yes, they are. You must have some sort of container to carry the needed fires to avoid setting yourself on fire.”
I narrowed my eyes in attempt to prove a point.
“And if I fall and break them… I’ll be incinerated by magical dragon fire.”
Ah, the humour of faking sweet little quotes with life-threatening situations.
Ulric forced back a chuckle.
“You’ll be surprised to find that unlike the others, I actually think about these sorts of things. No, I assure you that those jars are unbreakable.”
“I thought you said they weren’t.”
“A tease. Though they weren’t, no. Not until I casted an enchantment on them some years ago. I figured it might come in use.”
“And so it did!”
That’s really reassuring… I mean it!
“Once you have collected all six,” Ulric continued, playing on Nemtris’ patience, “You must return to Elimor and place them in the right slots and only then may you insert the dagger.”
“And then Thorodan’s soul will be destroyed and leave him no way of returning to the material world,” I ended, still lost deep in thought of all the possibilities.
It’s dangerous to ponder in the what-if’s.
“Whilst you are gone, we will protect the Artemilis. I only feel it the safest way.”
I gave Ulric a serious nod, showing him my deepest respect, loyalty and absolute gratitude..
“Then it shall be done,” I said, “I will collect these fires and return the soonest possible.”
“Though I must warn you to return before the day of Xalvor, for only then will this whole ritual be at its end, but if not… good luck stalling Zeldin for another seven years.”
I heard this before. Xalvor was the day when Ysellian’s three moons align and strengthens all power within any wizards’ grasps and to their advantages.
I only imagined that Zeldin would do whatever it took to get his hands on Thorodan’s soul before then.
He didn’t appeal to me as a sorcerer who would play around and pick daisies in the field all day.
Nemtris was the one to try and stop me this time by resting her hand on my shoulder. “Wait! You can’t seriously believe this, can you?”
I quickly brushed her hand from off my shoulder.
“What other choice do we have? I don’t see you coming up with any better ideas.”
There was a quick moment of silence as her gaze jumped from object to object, in search of an answer.
“Uh… we could always leave this for the Ysellian soldiers to handle and stay here to join these numbskulls in a game of intense afterlife poker.”
I stroked my chin as I reconsidered the suggestion.
“I must admit that that is a splendid idea, but we can’t.”
Nemtris seemed rather dissatisfied as she crossed her arms, forcing back insulting mumbles.
“And these guys don’t even have skulls…”
Perhaps I should stop before I anger her even more. If I continue this, I might not be able to sleep safely at night anymore.
I shot one glimpse at Ulric, meeting him eye to eye.
“Are you sure I can trust that the Artemilis will be safe here with you?”
It never hurt to make sure.
A slight smile of honour appeared on his lips. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
“I swear upon my great sword that this artefact will be left in safe hands until you return. I assure you that we will protect it with all our… uh… immortal lives.”
I returned a warm grin before turning to exit through the door.
“Wait. May I know your name? I feel it to only be fair, for you know mine.”
I froze in my tracks and casually looked back over my shoulder with a half-smile before replying, “Thorel. Carlaylin Thorel.”
CHAPTER 9
THE FAITH OF YE OLE MEN
CARLAYLIN
THERE IS NO HESITATION in admitting that we immediately left for Doyelna thereafter, meaning Justin, Nemtris, Ramses and I.
It was a town well renowned for its barbarian inhabitants and bloody traditions. Best not to go unarmed…
I figured that if I were to collect these fires, I might as well start with Imperion, Dragon of Air.
Well, it was Tarauntis’ request that I must speak with him, though I was advised not to go without a certain bard known as Yoldrig. I was told that I could find him here. I thought that it was essential to honour my word made to Tarauntis.
He is the Dragon of Death after all.
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