by Dan Zangari
“Gladis,” Solidin called. “What is the status of this thing?” he pointed to the dais. Gladis looked up and gestured for Solidin to come close.
That didn’t bode well.
Solidin crossed the chamber in silence. He looked up, searching for the ceiling, but it was nowhere to be found. The walls rose as far as he could see. That was expected for a transportium chamber this far below ground.
“I don’t think it is working,” Gladis whispered in Common. “One of the globes is cracked.”
Solidin glanced around the room, eyeing each of the pillars until he saw the one with the cracked globe atop it. It had a large gash the length of a sword.
“And this is stuck,” Gladis said, tapping on the pedestal. “It’s like someone deliberately sabotaged the transportium.”
Solidin nodded. “Like the others.”
“Why would they do that?” Gladis asked. “It seems so wasteful…”
From a mages’ perspective, yes… but from a strategist’s, it was brilliant.
“Think of it this way, Gladis,” Solidin said. “If your enemy threatens access to the heart of your stronghold, are you going to let him have at it?”
“I see your point,” Gladis replied, “but it’s still wasteful. So, how are we going to get to Dalgilur?” He was doubtful, and rightly so. They had hoped to find a way to teleport to the island from this temple, since Solidin had lost his mapping tevisral. After all, one of the texts High Lord Medrayn had purchased spoke of walking to Dalgilur. One couldn’t walk to an island. The text was obviously referring to the transportium.
“We’ll just have to sail there,” Solidin said, looking up once again.
“You are crazy, my friend,” Gladis said with a chuckle. “No ship has ever found Dalgilur. It is as if the isle were invisible.”
“Not to me,” Solidin said. “We came here to get me attuned. Now that I have received my election as a Bladesinger I can see Dalgilur. The isle calls to me…”
Gladis paused, raising his left eyebrow. He always did that when thinking deeply.
“We will find Dalgilur,” Solidin insisted, “despite the loss of my mapping tevisral. I know I can find it. I have seen the isle as clearly as if I were there. Even now I can feel the vision persisting in the back of my mind.” That didn’t convince Gladis. He was still thinking.
“Trust me,” Solidin firmly gripped Gladis’s shoulder. “But first, we need to get out of here.”
Gladis sighed, rubbing his forehead. Their plan—after encountering Cornar—was to get ahead of the Mindolarnians and use the transportium to leave the temple before they arrived. Solidin intended to leave a mage behind to destroy the transportium, to prevent the Mindolarnians from following them. Tregal had volunteered, knowing very well it was suicide.
Solidin looked up once again. Transportiums need a clear path between them, he thought. So this chamber went all the way to the surface, however many hundreds of phineals that was… That gave him an idea.
“Separate that dais from the floor,” Solidin said thoughtfully, stepping up to the dais.
“What are you suggesting?” Gladis asked, following Solidin.
Solidin didn’t answer immediately. He measured the dais’s diameter by stepping toe to heel all the way across it. They could fit fifty atop the dais.
“We use this”—Solidin pointed to the dais—“and escape that way.” He pointed upward.
“No…” Gladis shook his head. Several other elves gathered around, drawn by the conversation.
This would work! Solidin grinned confidently. “Use barsion to reinforce the dais,” he said to Gladis. “We’ll have to use it five times.”
“Do you know how many kineticists it will take to lift that thing?” Gladis asked, cocking his head at Solidin.
“Yeah, all of them. Now get to work.”
* * * * *
Kaescis didn’t feel the heat the others mentioned. The warmth couldn’t penetrate his armor, not with his helmet donned. He walked at the head of the Sorothian adventurers. The rest of the army wasn’t far behind them. Several of his mages further opened that hole in the last of the Klindil under-depths, allowing the army to enter the caves in groups of three.
Nordal—the Losian—still held onto Krindal’s tevisral. He was eager to lend a hand, but Kaescis couldn’t help but hate him.
Death… The voice inside Kaescis pleaded for him to kill the Losian. Not because of anything he had done, but because of his nativity. He was Losian. That was enough.
“There is a big cavern up ahead,” Nordal said. “It looks like we can walk along a ledge. It leads to a cave adjoining another cavern where the temple should be located. Ordreth’s group is ahead of us, checking on it.”
Kaescis nodded. “Good.”
They rounded a corner and entered an enormous magma chamber. Clever hiding spot, Kaescis thought. No one would expect to find the temple this far below ground.
Nordal stopped and the other Sorothians did the same. Kaescis, however, continued forward.
“Don’t you want to wait for a report, Your Majesty?” Nordal asked.
Kaescis glanced over his shoulder. “No,” he said, hurrying down the ledge. Mister Dol’shir’s nephew and three others were approaching. They were yellow outlines in his visor, indicating that they were veiled beneath invisibility magic.
“Your Imperial Highness,” Ordreth said, stopping in front of Kaescis. “It’s not clear. We found elves guarding a tunnel—”
“Good,” Kaescis interrupted the report and bolted down the earthen ramp. A bloodlust welled inside him. He yearned for a battle, to see corpses strewn before him.
Give us death… the voices said. Give us destruction!
* * * * *
Cornar made his way back to the central chamber after talking with the three projections. They had told Cornar the purpose of the Keepers of Truth and Might. The Keepers safeguarded one of the greatest secrets of Kalda; what, the three did not say. They also snuffed out evil when it appeared in the world, to ensure that another Thousand Years War never occurred. The Keepers were judges, jurors, and executioners. That frightened Cornar. No one should have that much power.
Cornar voiced his objection—such ideals and practices were unjust. Arceylain fought against his point, saying that if certain principles and ethics were strictly adhered to, then one could be all three. That just seemed to Cornar as a convenient excuse for committing murder.
Sure, Cornar had killed many people. But it was either in self-defense or in situations where the person deserved that fate. Arceylain argued over the last point, claiming that was exactly what the Keepers did. Cornar left shortly thereafter, as the conversation became a debate. He didn’t want to argue with clusters of magic.
Cornar descended the last set of stairs and entered the hallway leading back to the central chamber. Kalder, Aron, and Gregan stood along one of the walls holding their weapons and talking with Igan and Vargos. To Cornar’s surprise, neither mage was gagged.
“Cor,” Igan called, waving for Cornar to come close. Once he was near, the wizard asked, “What happened?”
Cornar glanced about at the nearby elves. None of them were paying attention to the humans. The elves were all busy writing or drawing sketches of the towering room. They weren’t wearing armor and were probably scholars associated with the Elven Aristocracy of Merdan.
“Cor?” Gregan prodded.
That brought Cornar back to reality. “Solidin was looking for an attunement chamber,” Cornar said. “He has one of those gems that Krindal has… I think it grants access to the Keepers’ headquarters.”
“I thought this was the Keepers’ headquarters,” Igan said.
“No, this is just a way station,” Cornar said. “It—”
An elf burst through one of the corridors leading to the foyer, running to another hall on what would be the northern side of the central chamber. The men watched for a moment and then Cornar relayed the rest of his and Solidin’s conversation
and experience on the temple’s seventh floor. Amid Cornar’s retelling of the tale, Solidin entered the central chamber with more elves.
Solidin spoke in Elvish and looked like he was rounding up the elves. Were they finished here?
“What do you think that’s all about?” Kalder asked.
“I don’t know…” Cornar said, and hurried after Solidin. The elf strode into another corridor, one that led to the foyer.
With his men in tow, Cornar passed elves packing up their belongings. Soon, Cornar and the others were in a four-way intersection and followed the branch back to the temple’s foyer. More scholars were packing up their things. One had drawn a depiction of Dusel Nadim’s statue; it was quite good.
“Move!” a stern voice shouted from behind Cornar and the others. A group of ten members of the Sapphire Guard ran past Cornar and his men, darting toward the towering main doors.
Worried, Cornar eyed his companions. Their faces all asked the same thing, “Are the Mindolarnians here?”
Another group of the Sapphire Guard hurried past them, and Cornar led his small band back into the courtyard recessed within the enormous stalactite.
Solidin was hurriedly giving orders in Elvish, pointing to the bridge and the walls surrounding the courtyard.
“They’re preparing for battle,” Gregan whispered.
Several of the Sapphire Guard mages cast spells at Solidin’s command, forcing brown-gray transmutative magic into the walls of the niche. Stone broke apart, reforming into metal barriers where Solidin had pointed.
“Vargos.” Cornar turned to the barsionist, but Vargos was already doing what Cornar was about to ask; mustering his protective magic. Igan uttered an incantation as well.
The elves were too busy preparing the courtyard to notice Cornar and the others making their own preparations.
Amid the casting of spells, Cornar noticed movement near the cave leading to the magma chamber. An elf clad in white armor flew from the ledge, screaming as he plummeted into the pit surrounding the temple. A flash of black struck another elf, and he too tumbled over the side.
Solidin shouted an order in Elvish and backed up to the center of the courtyard, drawing his daggers. Some of the mages finished casting their spells. White enhancing magic washed across the courtyard; it bolstered Cornar and the others, as Vargos’s barsion had not yet formed. The enhancing magic was followed by a wave of brilliant blue barsion, surrounding each member of the Sapphire Guard. More magic flew from other Sapphire Guard mages, imbuing the elves’ weapons.
Vargos and Igan finished their spells, shielding all five of them and imbuing Cornar and the other warriors’ weapons with purple disintegrating magic. Then, Cornar saw him…
Prince Kaescis strode across the bridge, clad in his golden-red armor. He held that black sword high above his head. The blade was massive, and it misted blackness. It actually looked bigger than those the horsemen wielded from his first dream with his father.
“That’s Master Iltar’s magic!” Aron exclaimed, gasping.
“I didn’t think anyone besides Iltar and Balden could muster the Darkness magic,” Igan said warily, then uttered another incantation.
The prince dashed across the bridge, leaping into the air. He soared unnaturally, bypassing the barricade the Sapphire Guard mages had erected.
“Death has come for you!” Kaescis shouted, his voice muffled beneath his helmet. He plummeted into the courtyard, impaling a member of the Sapphire Guard as he landed. Kaescis’s blade pierced the elf as if the barsion and armor weren’t there.
Impossible…
“The Brethren will be purified, cleansed by the Holy power of Hemran’na.”
- Prophecy of Soron Thahan
Rising from his unnatural leap, Kaescis violently removed his misting Ko’delish blade. The mist eroded the vile elf’s armor and repulsed the barsion still persistent around the corpse. His other blade had not cut through barsion as easily; it could take seconds to breech barsion barriers, depending on the density of the spell. This weapon’s effectiveness pleased him. That’s one, Kaescis mused, dashing to the nearest elf, his weapon trailing a devouring mist behind him.
The elf lunged away, preemptively evading Kaescis’s swing. All the while, the rest of the Sapphire Guard readied to attack. There were only forty of them. They all wore the same armor, and the only way to tell mages apart from foot soldiers was by their weapons.
Incantations sounded from several directions. A disintegrating beam, a fiery blast, and a summoning spell. Were those acidic bolts, too? Had they a corusilist among them?
Kaescis took note of the elves casting the magic. The conjurer was his most pressing foe. Kaescis would aim to kill him first. The portal forming in front of the elven conjurer was three times his height. The rest of the Sapphire Guard, however, moved to bar his way to the mages. Each of their weapons glowed with various destructive magics—a combination of flame, lightning, and acid—all intertwined with a disintegrating aura.
Well prepared, Kaescis thought. Their weapons were imbued with a deadly combination. His armor could absorb much of it, becoming a thin damaging veil of repurposed magic. The suit would emit the repurposed magic, hurting any he touched or who touched him. But enough hits from those weapons, and they would breech his armor. Those who crafted his extraordinary Triaindium Suit said it would take hundreds of blows, though.
I hope I don’t have to test that, he worried.
Death… That internal voice rang within his mind, replacing worry with rage.
Invigorated, Kaescis charged through the enemy ranks. He rammed his shoulder into the nearest elf, knocking him off balance, but that didn’t stop the elf from swinging his sword. The imbued metal clanged against Kaescis’s armor, magic dissipating and flowing to his armor’s gemstones.
Not bad. Kaescis threw a forearm into the next elf’s face. That dazed the elf briefly, allowing an opening.
Kaescis spun, slicing his blade through another foe. It cut through the barsion so easily. What raw power. It was glorious! That’s two, he thought as the Ko’delish blade sheared straight through the armor as if it were wet parchment. The elf fell in pieces, torso going one way while his legs and forearm went elsewhere. The fanisar dropped with a resounding clang.
This blade is wonderful! He rebounded, kicking another elf away. What awesome power!
More elves surrounded Kaescis—twelve, it seemed. Nothing he couldn’t handle. They all came at him, swinging their weapons in varied directions. Kaescis tried to dodge, but was struck by four of the weapons—fanisars mostly, as they had the greatest reach. A bolt of lightning surged across his armor, erupting in a flash.
Temporarily blinded, Kaescis felt more hits from the elves. He staggered and dropped to one knee. Clanging reverberated through his armor and rang in his helmet.
Loud thuds echoed behind him, and Kaescis spun to his feet, his vision returning.
Laeyit and Bratan rebounded from the ground, dashing to the nearest members of the Sapphire Guard. They had undoubtedly leapt over the barricades. They drew away part of Kaescis’s opponents, engaging three foes each.
Like old times, Kaescis thought with a smile. The three of them had led assaults together like this in the past. They were a deadly trio.
Kaescis spun back around, swinging his blade at another elf. Mister Dol’shir and the other missing Sorothians stood at the far side of the courtyard. They were protected by a thin layer of barsion magic, and their weapons were imbued by their arcanist. But they were just standing there. What were they waiting for?
Kaescis dodged his foe’s flaming fanisar, and the fiery magic wisped toward his armor; his left gauntlet began to glow with flame. Kaescis punched the elf, propelling him away with a fiery eruption.
The reprieve didn’t last long. His foe was replaced by another elf wielding an imbued fanisar. Kaescis swung at the newcomer, slicing through the weapon. The fanisar’s bladed end dropped to the ground, sparking the courtyard floor while also erodin
g it from the acid and the arcane energy.
The elf didn’t skip a beat and swiftly used his broken fanisar as a short spear. He struck beneath Kaescis’s helmet, attempting to jar it loose.
“Nice try!” Kaescis shouted, slicing his Ko’delish blade down on the elf’s nearest shoulder. The black magic tore right through his barsion, slicing down to the elf’s waist. That’s three.
The elf fell and Kaescis dashed past him but was tugged backward. Something held his leg.
Kaescis spun, seeing the felled elf gripping his sabaton with his remaining arm. “What ambition,” Kaescis said, snickering as he rammed his Ko’delish blade into the elf’s face. Now, that’s three.
Invigorated with a growing thrill, Kaescis pushed through more of the elves, wounding three. He dashed into the open courtyard where the elven mages had gathered. The conjurer hadn’t finished, but the portal was nearing completion.
A beam of disintegration shot from the elven mage to his left. Kaescis tried to dodge, but was caught in the magic. His armor began glowing a purple hue, gemstones absorbing the deadly blast. His vision became tinted in purple, which was a cue that his armor had absorbed all it could. He had to be careful now.
Kaescis struggled to throw himself out of the way. Once free, the beam raced behind him. He glanced at the elves who had already steered clear of the magic’s path. The disintegrating beam struck one of the barricades, completely destroying it. Laeyit was nearby, dueling one of the elves.
Push him into the beam—
She did exactly that, knocking the elf into the beam’s tail. The elf shrieked, and dropped to the ground, a curved opening carved across his back.
“Half-breed prince!”
Kaescis turned, seeing the accursed leader of the Sapphire Guard, Solidin the Swift-Dagger. The elf stood smug in his armor, his daggers glowing, surrounded by barsion and destructive magics.
Clever… But Solidin’s daggers couldn’t stand up to the Ko’delish blade.
“You’re too late,” the Swift-Dagger boasted. He twirled his weapons and sauntered toward Kaescis.
