by T Nisbet
Chp. 30
I kept to myself and avoided any conversations as we made our way deeper and deeper into Mozgul. The sun was beginning to set as we came upon a large encampment blocking the road ahead. Hundreds of tents lined either side of the road. I looked down at my hands and cursed silently. They were starting to glow.
Ivy rode ahead next to Guldan as we approached. They talked briefly and Guldan pulled back his hood. I could make out a slight tinge of crimson surrounding him. He said something to Ivy and she pulled back her hood as well.
Several blood elves stood before us on the road ahead, behind wooden barriers blocking our way forward on the road. As we drew closer, they grouped together for a moment then moved the barricades aside bowing low toward Guldan.
Guldan didn’t acknowledge them as we neared. He continued forward and we followed. I pulled my hands inside my sleeves as we past them and leaned forward slightly so my hood hid my face completely.
It was the tensest ten minutes of my life traveling down the road through the center of that camp. Blood elves sat in groups gambling, arguing, eating, and working. Any that looked up and saw Guldan bowed low and didn’t move until we were past. Once we were on the other side of the camp with the open road before us I allowed myself to breathe a little easier.
I watched from beneath my hood as Guldan’s crimson glow shone more brightly as dusk retreat to night. Ivy had replaced her hood, but I could see a purple glow shimmering around its edges as she rode with her back to me. Bronn sat hunched over on the seat in the wagon guiding the mule train. His thick hands cast a very light orange into the growing night.
Guldan turned his horse.
“There is a thicket of trees ahead to our right behind some large rocks. I suggest we make camp there. Merchants do not generally travel at night in Mozgul.”
The ground was firm enough for Bronn to guide the wagon behind the rocks without risk of getting stuck. It was a perfect place to hole up for the night. I dismounted and walked off into the trees to relieve myself.
I understood now, the vacant stares of the battle weary I’d seen on the history channel. Psychologist sometimes called it post traumatic stress syndrome. We weren’t meant to kill, to take life, to inflict or witness the atrocities brought on by war. It was never a part of God’s plan; it couldn’t have been. The punishment for abandoning the sanctity of creation was an infinite sadness too unbearable to contemplate to which the vacant numbness was a relief.
I walked back to where the others were setting up a fireless camp, laying out their bedrolls in a rough circle. I went to where Gill had tethered our horses and retrieved my bedroll from my horse.
I didn’t have a choice to be merciful. I had been forced to be direct and kill the blood elf in such a way as to provide an example, and I had been horrifyingly direct. It was more of an execution than a fight. I knew I didn’t have time to contemplate what I’d done, there was so much more to do. I wanted to ask for God’s forgiveness, but couldn’t, because it was likely to happen again. How could I be given absolution for a sin I planned on committing again?
I sat down after laying out a bedroll on the edge of the other bedrolls near an overhanging rock. I kept my hood down over my face and listened as Bronn spoke. Ivy came over and sat beside me leaning her head against my shoulder. I felt dirty and not worthy of her attention, but welcomed it anyway.
“Lord Memron’s castle is less than three leagues away, as the crow flies. It was called Hinathari in the elder days, back when this was Zanthia, the kingdom of the fairy born. My Da told me tales of the fairy when I was a pup. He said Hinathari was beautiful beyond words but its entire splendor paled beside the beauty of its queen, Illithril. He said that to look upon her was to know the beauty of angels. He couldn’t speak of her without spilling tears.
“I’ve long wondered if the fairy folk will return when the Demon is no more. I would look upon fair Illithril before I leave this world for the halls of my forefathers.”
“Why would capturing this demon bring about the return of fairies?” asked Carla.
Gulden cleared his throat.
“When the demon was arrogantly, though mistakenly brought into this world by Thallium, the fairy folk used all of their magic to keep the demon’s physical presence from being fully brought forth from the nether,” Guldan said, his voice filled with emotion. “Because of their sacrifice, the demon is trapped within the veil separating the mortal worlds from hell. Bereft of their magic, the fairy folk left this world and haven’t been seen, but occasionally, for the last five millennia.
“Unfortunately, the Demon will soon have enough power to break through the fairies binding and enter the world directly.”
“Game over?” Toby asked.
Bronn chuckled.
“That’s one way of saying it. Once one of the fallen enters physically, the rest will eventually follow through the rift it creates and Armageddon begins.”
“Holy Crap!” Toby cursed.
“You mean this Thallium guy almost brought on the apocalypse?” Carla asked.
“That still might be his legacy,” Guldan said, lying back on his bedroll.
