A Prince's Errand

by Dan Zangari

  As he picked it up, Hezy blurted, “You can’t take it!”

  “Try to stop me,” Nordal said. “And I’m taking one of your arpranists.”

  “I can’t condone that,” Hezy said, his face flaring with frustration.

  My fist can condone it, Nordal thought, eyeing the sissy general with hostility. He yearned for an excuse to punch the sissy in the throat. Make a move. Nordal grinned. I dare you…

  “Uh… Nordal,” Krindal said timidly.

  “Yeah?”

  “That’s my tevisral,” Krindal said. “I…” he hesitated.

  “You don’t think I know that?” Nordal said, leaning away from the table. He held the tevisral in his hand, tilting the map sideways through the war room.

  Krindal sighed. “I… I just.”

  Spit it out, man! Nordal raised an eyebrow, annoyed.

  “I can’t let it leave my sight,” the scholar said, taking a deep breath.

  “Then come with me,” Nordal said frankly. “It’s not like my band can’t handle a few elves. You’ll be safe with us.”

  Galiur chuckled and shook his head.

  “Got a problem?” Nordal asked.

  “You’re an arrogant fool,” Hezy said.

  “There’s a fine line between arrogance and confidence,” Nordal said. “Only a coward would mistake the latter for the former. C’mon, Krindal. We’re leaving.”

  Nordal spun around, he dashed out of the war room, and ran through the Imperial Tent. Nordal would find Cor and the others, no matter how long it took.

  * * * * *

  Aron groaned, “I need a break.” Kalder looked to Gregan. The other warrior nodded.

  “Okay,” Kalder said.

  Igan knelt before them, gently raising Aron’s legs. The three of them set the wounded warrior on the ground.

  “You know, we can’t stay down here forever,” Gregan said, folding his arms. “We’ll die of thirst and starvation.”

  “We can last a few days,” Kalder said.

  “Aron won’t,” Gregan grumbled. “We need to find a way to break the surface.”

  “Not here,” Vargos said. “It’s too unstable.”

  “Well, it’s better than what we passed back there,” Gregan thumbed in the direction from which they’d come.

  Gregan was right. They’d had to squeeze through a tight spot where the tunnel was crushed to one side. Igan thought it about the same area as the war camp, and that the sideways collapse was a result of the fault line pushing upward.

  Gregan and Vargos began arguing about a plan of action. Gregan was adamant that Igan could disintegrate a hole to the surface and launch bolts of magic into the sky as a type of flare to alert the others. Vargos thought it foolish, as any type of disturbance could bring the tunnels down on top of them. Gregan rebutted by saying Vargos could use his barsion to protect them.

  True, Vargos could shield them in such a way… but if another collapse happened, they’d risk becoming stuck.

  Kalder didn’t want to risk it. Gregan’s ideas were reckless. But they needed food, and they needed water. And they needed it fast.

  * * * * *

  Severa1 hours had passed since Solidin had awakened Cornar. In that time they had learned a great deal about each other.

  Solidin claimed he was currently from the nation of Gastrim, though born in Keth. He, along with his deceased friend and a couple of other elves from Merdan worked as scouts for a group of adventurers who called themselves the Sanguine Blades.

  Cornar had never heard of them and wondered if they were brutal or optimistic. Perhaps both, as Solidin didn’t seem the least bit worried about being trapped beneath a long-forgotten city. But this group didn’t sound like anything that would have frightened Krindal. The Sanguine Blades wouldn’t have been a match for Cornar’s band. So, Cornar found it unlikely that Solidin was part of the group Krindal feared.

  The Sanguine Blades worked out of the city of Rystra. Rystra was on the shores of the Hidegarn River. The river bordered the Kingdom of Kerindor and flowed into the Sea of Korath.

  Cornar had never traveled to Rystra. He had only been to the southern parts of Gastrim, exploring ruins in his youth. In fact, it was his first adventure. If it hadn’t been for Iltar, he wouldn’t have gone at all. That was a bittersweet trip, as there were plenty of broken promises and betrayals. But, it was the start to this incredible life of adventure.

  While searching for a place to rest, Solidin showed some stoic resolve. He seemed a natural-born leader. Cornar wondered if the elf had persuaded his friends to join him. All in all, Solidin was a good fellow. He was the kind of person Cornar wanted by his side on an adventure.

  Finally, Cornar and Solidin found a niche in the wall. The opening was as wide as they were tall, but only rose partway to their chests.

  “This looks as good a spot as any,” Cornar said, bending down.

  Solidin angled his lightstone, illuminating the niche. It was not very deep, barely enough room for one man to lie comfortably. A stone alcove? Cornar wondered what it had been used for in the past. The niche’s purpose baffled him, like most of this place.

  “Do you want to take turns resting?” Solidin asked.

  “That would be best,” Cornar nodded.

  “You go first,” the elf suggested. “You need it more than I.”

  “Thank you,” Cornar nodded, tucking himself into the cubby. He unlatched Sharon’s cloak and rolled it up into a makeshift pillow. It would do, for now—

  “Here,” Solidin interrupted Cornar’s thoughts, dangling his pack. “You can lie on this; use the cloak to cover up.”

  Reluctantly, Cornar grabbed the pack, feeling it and its contents. It was soft. Definitely, no weapons were concealed within it.

  “Thank you,” Cornar said, placing the pack where he had laid Sharon’s cloak.

  “Take this,” Cornar removed his short-sword from his belt. “In case anything comes.”

  “You’re trusting me with this?” Solidin’s eyes widened.

  Cornar nodded. “You gave me your pack. It’s a fair trade.”

  The elf grinned and drew the blade. Solidin held the lightstone up to the weapon’s sharp edge, admiring the craftsmanship. “This is unlike any blade I’ve ever seen… exquisite!”

  That made Cornar smile.

  “Where was it forged?” Solidin asked.

  “I don’t know. Both the sword and the dagger are identical, like they were made by the same person. My father had them for as long as I could remember. I think his friend found them? I’m not really sure, though.” Cornar drew the dagger and handed it to Solidin.

  The elf put the short-sword down gently and took the serrated dagger. He handled them with reverence, his adoration akin to that of a masterful swordsman.

  “These weren’t forged by men,” Solidin said. “The hilts look like they have tevisrals inside them.”

  Cornar raised his brow. He had never thought of his weapons as tevisrals. Yes, they could hold on to magic, retain whatever spell had been cast on them even amid a dispel. Cornar had wondered how it was done, but never found an answer. He had accepted their nature and never prodded any further.

  “These weapons look like they were forged yesterday. The purity of their metal… and their edges are so fine. They could cut through anything. Especially if imbued with the proper magic.”

  Solidin seemed too knowledgeable about weapons for a scout. Those details were not something a common man—or elf—would perceive.

  “Beautiful!” Solidin exclaimed, returning the dagger.

  Cornar sheathed the weapon and Solidin picked up the short-sword, holding it at the ready.

  “Sleep as long as you need,” the elf said.

  Cornar nodded and covered up with Sharon’s cloak. It shimmered, faintly illuminating the ceiling of the cubby. That reminded him of how he and Karenna would tuck lightstones under blankets in their children’s rooms at night. It was a practice of theirs to help ease their children’s fe
ars about the dark.

  The faint light brought a smile to Cornar’s face. Oddly comforting, he thought and nestled against Solidin’s pack, getting as comfortable as possible on the hard stone floor.

  Take me back to that dreamland, Cornar thought. Or was it a prayer? He wanted that strange being to hear his plea, didn’t he? I need answers. You promised me answers. Please, take me back to that place, to Laelin Lake.

  “She shall awaken with a fury, unaware of the signs of His coming.”

  - Prophecy of Soron Thahan

  The night in the stone alcove was uneventful. Cornar hadn’t dreamed of his father’s incursion into the castle on Laelin Lake. In fact, he hadn’t dreamed at all. Cornar crawled out to find Solidin leaning against the wall, eyes gazing across the dark cavern with the short-sword across his lap.

  “Feel refreshed?” the elf asked.

  Cornar shrugged. His stomach was grumbling. But this wasn’t the first time he’d been stranded in some forsaken place without food.

  “Let’s get moving then,” Solidin said, standing and handing the sword back to Cornar.

  “You don’t want to rest?” Cornar asked.

  “I’m fine,” Solidin said, stepping deeper into that abysmal tunnel. Looking into it was like staring into a pit that stretched into infinity.

  Did he fall asleep too? Cornar wondered, coming beside Solidin. The elf didn’t look one bit tired.

  A faint sound—like someone breathing—reached Cornar’s ears. “Do you hear that?” he grabbed Solidin’s arm. The elf halted and listened for a moment before shaking his head.

  Cornar pointed to their right, and Solidin shone his lightstone in that direction. Nothing was there.

  “Maybe you’re hearing things?” Solidin asked. “No offense intended… but my ears are better than yours.” That eased the tension and Cornar cracked a smile.

  They continued for a way, nearing an opening to their right. Cornar walked toward it, drawing Solidin’s attention.

  “I thought you said we needed to keep following this tunnel,” the elf said.

  Cornar poked his head into the opening; it was the size of a large hallway. This probably led to the other tunnel, the one that paralleled this one.

  “Wait…” a voice whispered through the dank air, sounding like the not-creature from his dreams.

  Peeling away from the opening, Cornar warily glanced to Solidin. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” The elf cracked an amused grin. Did he think Cornar mad? First the breathing, now the voice…

  “A voice,” Cornar said curtly.

  Solidin steeled himself but approached the opening. He turned an ear into the hallway.

  Both Cornar and Solidin held their breath.

  “I don’t—” Solidin cut himself off and strained toward the opening. “Wait, I hear them.”

  Them? Cornar hadn’t heard anything besides that whisper. Was there something there? The voice had told him to wait… but for what? Cornar recalled Kaescis claiming a similar experience back on Pier Eight in Soroth.

  Faint inaudible sounds wisped through the hallway, finally reaching Cornar’s ears. It sounded like conversation.

  Perhaps there was some supernatural force guiding this quest.

  “There are three,” Solidin whispered. “One sounds agitated.”

  Cornar felt the need to seek the source of the noises. He was compelled. Someone was hurt… he just knew it! Cornar darted into the hallway, fueled with protective passion.

  “Cornar!” Solidin called through clenched teeth.

  Light faded as Cornar dashed through the tunnel. He ran right into a solid wall, then felt along it, searching for a corner. Soon, light spilled into the area behind him. Solidin ran with his lightstone outstretched. With the hallway lit, Cornar easily saw he was in a corridor that ran perpendicular to the first hall.

  “The voices are coming from there,” Solidin pointed to their right, at an opening leading to another hallway.

  Cornar dashed to the opening. He could hear them. Was that Kalder speaking?

  A pained cry resounded through the hallway, and Cornar quickened his dash. One of his men was hurt. Light shown at the end of the hallway. Was that a lightstone? Between heavy breaths, Cornar whistled his party’s signal. At that moment, Solidin caught up to Cornar.

  The chatter stopped and Cornar whistled again. Their hurried footfalls and heavy breathing were the only sounds in the hallway. The light at the other end didn’t move. Cornar and Solidin soon neared the end of the hall where another massive tunnel awaited them, partially illuminated. But Cornar’s men weren’t visible.

  Why aren’t they answering? Cornar wondered.

  Solidin’s light reached the end of the hallway, further illuminating the massive tunnel.

  A replying whistle sounded just as Cornar dashed out of the hallway. He came to an abrupt halt a few paces from Igan, Vargos, Kalder, and Gregan. Aron was held up between the two warriors, with brilliantly lit barsion wrapped around his leg.

  “Cor!” Gregan blurted.

  “You’re alive!” Igan gasped, smiling. The wizard ran to Cornar, hugging him tightly. “How… how did you survive that fall?”

  “I don’t know,” Cornar said with a shrug, then turned to the warriors. He examined Aron’s leg. It looked bad. Aron’s face was pale. He forced a smile, but his pain shone in his eyes. He wasn’t going to survive this…

  Cornar looked to the tunnel’s ceiling, Can’t you heal him? he pleaded. Like you did with me?

  There was no reply.

  “Here, take this,” Solidin said, stepping beside Cornar. The elf proffered a green leaf with bright yellow veins. The leaf’s tips were a dark violet. “It was meant for my friend…” Solidin looked somber as he moved the leaf to Aron’s mouth.

  “It’s Taegish leaf. They grow in the elven realm and are used to accelerate regrowth,” the elf explained. “You’ll be starving in a moment, as it forces your body to repair itself quicker than it is used to.”

  Aron hesitated and looked to Cornar.

  “Take it,” Cornar urged, and the wounded warrior complied.

  “Your friend?” Igan asked incredulously. “You mean that corpse in the pit?” Solidin nodded.

  “Who are you?” Vargos demanded, folding his arms. “And don’t say an elf. That’s obvious.”

  Solidin grinned, amused by the old barsionist. “A fellow adventurer. A scout. We’re exploring the ruins to see if there are any valuable artifacts. My employer is a bit of a con artist.”

  Vargos raised an eyebrow and looked at Cornar with a questioning expression. Was he doubting Cornar’s judgment?

  “Who are we?” Gregan asked. “And… you look familiar.”

  “I should,” Solidin said, grunting. “I watched you plaster the floor of Heldergan’s Flower with your vomit.”

  Kalder narrowed his eyes, warily studying Solidin. “I thought you and your fellows left Kretin,” he said. “I saw the ship leave port.”

  “They weren’t my friends,” Solidin said flatly.

  “He doesn’t sound like an elf,” Vargos observed.

  “No,” Solidin grinned.

  “He sounds like a Merdan elf,” Igan said warily.

  “He is,” Cornar chimed. His friends were being defensive, and rightly so. But Cornar trusted Solidin. “Solidin is part of a small band from Gastrim that is exploring the ruins. He’s only one of four elves.” Cornar said the last bit to placate them, as each knew of Krindal’s fears. “Now, was anyone else looking for me?”

  “We all were,” Kalder said.

  Gregan grunted. “We were just unlucky and got caught in another collapse.”

  Those answers worried Cornar. Were there any others of his party that had succumbed to the earthquake? Were others injured, like Aron? Cornar had to find them, ensure that everyone was safe and—

  “Go to the temple,” that same voice whispered, like a beckoning on the wind.

  Cornar looked around, searching
for the source but also checking if anyone else had heard it. They didn’t react.

  “It doesn’t hurt!” Aron exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention. The wounded warrior pushed himself away from Kalder and Gregan. He stepped on his once-injured leg and beamed with excitement.

  “Whoa…” Igan shook his head, taken aback at the quickness of Aron’s recovery.

  Vargos dismissed the magic binding Aron’s leg, and the warrior pulled up his pant to reveal a perfect limb.

  “Thank you!” Aron exclaimed, smiling at Solidin.

  “Yes,” Cornar said, putting a hand on the elf’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  Solidin nodded, aloof. Aron wobbled, suddenly succumbing to the effects of the leaf. He looked exhausted.

  “Are you all right?” Igan asked, stepping toward the warrior.

  “Exhausted… and tired,” Aron answered.

  “We should keep going and find you some monster to eat.” Solidin grinned and continued down the tunnel. The warriors and mages looked confused.

  “I’ll explain later,” Cornar said, chuckling. “Let’s get on our way.”

  They caught up to Solidin and walked in a line down the massive tunnel. Igan was on one side with his sphere of light while Solidin was on the other edge. Their combined light illuminated most of the cavernous space.

  “If I recall correctly,” Cornar said. “This tunnel will take us to the heart of Klindil, about where the others were planning to enter these depths.”

  “What do you think, Cor?” Igan asked. “Do we wait there, or try to get back to the war camp?”

  “Neither.” Cornar shook his head. “We’ll head straight to the Keepers’ Temple.”

  Everyone looked surprised except Solidin. The elf looked pleased, as if he had won some victory. Solidin hadn’t expressed much interest in Cornar’s search. The elf had shrugged off the whole idea.

  “Are you sure that’s wise, Cor?” Gregan said. “We need food and water. Aren’t you starving?” He looked to Aron.

  “Uh, yeah…” Aron replied. “I could eat an entire cow.”

  “Yeah, I do think it’s wise,” Cornar said. “I doubt the Mindolarnians will use all their resources to search for us. If we meet them at the temple, they can send word back to any search parties.”