by RG Long
“You have power,” Rayg said as he looked her in the eye.
His stare was going past her eyes, into her very being. Blume found herself unable to look away. Her fists balled as she drew in power from the amulet. She wanted to look away. She tried to turn her face. But she could not. All she could do was stare into the eyes of the demon. And she waited.
“I am not a patient being,” he said. “But I may find a place for such a human as you who can defy my power.”
A wicked grin showed on his face. He looked like he had just found a treasure of great value.
“If you join us, I can increase your power a hundred times. I can show you the secrets of the stone you wield. I can unlock the mysteries of why that one in particular calls to you.”
He breathed and raised a hand high into the air. Stones from below rose in pillars of purple light.
“I can give you purpose, Blume Dearcrest! I can show you a world of power and infinite possibilities beyond this one. I can tell you the mysteries of the stars!”
Blume felt a hesitation in her spirit.
Could he really show her the answers to her powers? Why could she wield such power out of one stone, when others were just able to use it to do normal magic? Could she find a sense of purpose? Would she be able to find it, with him? A demon?
An allure rose up inside of her. A feeling that she was missing something. That there was something more powerful within reach but just beyond her grasp.
She closed her eyes.
When she opened them, she saw that Rayg was just a hand’s breadth from her face. She gasped, but could not pull away. He was no longer the terrifying demon who had haunted her dreams. His face was kind. Enticing.
“Join me,” he whispered. “And all will be made clear.”
Blume breathed out. Looking into the deep purple of Rayg’s eyes, she could see her future. One where she was powerful. One where she was in control and never faltered in her magic or failed to save her friends.
Her friends.
What would she need with insignificant beings who could do no magic? Why should she need others when she had power?
The longing in her heart grew more burdensome as if a weight had been placed inside her chest. Pulling up on an energy-filled hand, she began to move it towards the demon Rayg.
“Get away from her!” came a shout from the side.
Everything about Rayg’s face changed in an instant.
Blume saw Olma jump up from the edge of the earth Rayg had suspended in space. She sliced through the air with her giant red blades. Rayg turned to engage her.
At that same moment, Blume snapped out of her trance. Join Rayg? The demons? Impossible!
She let a devastating blast of energy fly from her fists, still balled in a fury, at Rayg.
The one who had taken so much from her.
A blinding light overcame her just as Rayg and Olma collided in midair.
And her blast of magic consumed them both.
55: Deeper Caverns
Snart felt his right arm hanging down limply at his side. He knew he was lucky. The thing should have fallen off. If he had a few days, his bones would heal and he would grow back whatever skin he needed before he would need to use it.
He looked around him and saw dust and fire.
The magic had been strong and potent. Snart could feel that he had been exposed to the power of rimstone beyond his reckoning. It didn’t matter. Whatever forces those had been were gone now. Perhaps they had been blasted into the sky above. Or maybe one of the fires that burned around him belonged to one of the magic users.
Making the decision not to stop and check, Snart continued on.
The skin on his feet burned him. The very ground felt hot. He didn’t like it, but going next to the water at this point would bring him close to the armies that were left still on the shore. The island nation was getting back on their boats. Snart didn't want to fight anyone. Not right now without the use of his arm.
He would heal first. Then he would find a place that was just the right warmth and rest his bones.
He had earned such a rest.
“Going going?” came a loud booming voice from behind him.
Snart froze as he heard it. Surely the enormous beast hadn’t followed him all the way here?
The rimstone around his waist began to glow and crackle. He had damaged at least one of the stones in the fight. Hopefully, they would serve him well.
“No glowing, glowing,” the voice said, much closer than Snart was comfortable with.
He spun around, grabbing for his spear with his left claw, fumbling with the shaft even as the massive bulk of Vallin came rushing at him. The first thing that hit Snart was a tooth of the monstrous cave dweller. Its teeth were so large that Snart’s own head would have been impaled clean through if Vallin had gotten his mouth around him.
For the time being, that wasn’t the case. Fumbling as he was, Snart was able to dodge the first bite of the beast and use his spear to stab the soft part of Vallin’s under jaw. His opponent let out a gurgling howl of pain and flung his head wildly. Still holding onto the spear, knowing it was one of his only two weapons, Snart went flying into a rock.
He was just grateful it wasn’t the fire that burned next to it.
“You lying, lying, nasty cheating, cheating lizard!” Vallin yelled. “Taking, taking all our troops and wasting, wasting them! We are dying, dying! All running, running!”
Snart took full advantage of Vallin’s bad mood and ranting. Focusing every fiber of his being into his claws, he created a fire of blue flame and hurled it at Vallin. It seared the skin of the giant beast, but it didn’t put it down. Snart let out a long hiss. A blast of fire that large would have ended the lives of at least four Veiled Ones.
It didn’t even appear to have slowed Vallin down.
He let out another great roar of pain and hatred. Snart put his good claw down on the ground, ready to leap out of the way if Vallin charged. It certainly looked like the beast was ready to.
But then, jumping from all sides of him were Veiled Ones. Blues and purples and greens were falling on Vallin, stabbing him with spears, mercilessly poking holes in the thick hide of the cave lord.
Vallin screamed and threw his arms wildly, taking off one or two of the lizards. But it wasn’t enough. Soon the sheer amount of wounds and blood loss was too much, and Vallin fell to the ground.
He heaved one last great sigh, reaching out a massive claw, and then fell still and silent.
Snart was breathing heavily as he picked himself up out of the sandy ground. His arm was pulsing with pain as it had been jolted around when he had been thrown. If any other part of his body hurt, he was unaware of it at the moment. He needed to get somewhere he could rest and recover.
The battle with Vallin taxed him more than he would like to admit. It was alright now, however. He looked up to see his fellow Veiled Ones who had come to his aid. He would continue to lead them, and they would continue to follow He was boss, boss, after all.
“Ssssnart, boss, boss,” he said as he righted himself fully. “Rewardsssss faithful Veiled Onessss.”
He looked at their faces, expecting to see elation or relief or pride. None of those emotions were in front of him. Instead, anger, resentment, and disgust registered on the lizards who had taken down Vallin.
“Sssssssnart failed ussssss,” a blue one said.
Snart was suddenly very aware that his spear was lodged underneath the bulk of Vallin’s dead body. There wasn’t a way for him to get it. So that meant he only had one option of fighting back.
His claws exploded with blue light.
“Sssssstupid lizardssssss,” he spat. “Dare defy Sssssnart!? I’m bossss bossss!”
“Not our bosssss,” said a green, with a flick of its tongue. His claws clicked against his metal spear.
Snart acted first. He shot a ball of magical energy out at the blue lizard to his right. A cry of pain told him he had aimed true. But now the
other two were charging forward, spears raised and eyes filled with their own kind of fire.
Another blast ended the second Veiled One with a snarl and a sizzle of flesh. As Snart pointed his next blast at the third, a spear tip jutted out from his chest. The blue fire faded from his hand as he let out his own, strangled cry.
Snart glance behind him. A man stood there, looking down at him with hard, determined eyes. Another blur rushed by him and the other lizard fell to another man with a spear.
“Good one, Captain Pul,” said the first man. “With Isol pulling away we can finish up these last few lizards. There’s a few more over there.”
“Good eyes! Rallet! This way!” the man whose spear had impaled his chest. “Gods save us, what’s that thing?”
The captain moved on quickly, not paying Snart a second glance. Snart looked up and saw the darkening sky as he slid off the spear and onto the ground. His vision blurred as he coughed. It looked like a cavern with a light towards the end of it. The glow called to him, and he followed after it.
It was like the darkest cavern he had ever traveled. New and uncharted lands.
He was Snart.
He was boss, boss.
No more.
56: The Shores of the Saved
Ealrin was calling as loud as his voice could carry.
Where was she?
“Blume!” he shouted again and again. “Blume, where are you!?”
He knew the rest of their party trudged behind him, almost unwillingly. It had been such a battle of magic. So many lives lost in one final sacrifice. Isol had been devastated by the blast that had encompassed the sky.
The Theocracy was nearly done tearing itself apart with Juttis still vying for control of what was left of the empire. And Ealrin cared for none of it. All he wanted to do was to see Blume safe. And Olma in one piece. They had both left in such a rush. They had tried to run out after them, but they couldn’t run nearly as fast.
And then the armies had swept up over them again. It had been a miracle that they had made it out alive. After the explosion, the battlefield went eerily quiet.
The suns had just barely risen, showing the catastrophe below. So many were dead. Many more were dying. Ealrin prayed the ones they sought weren’t among them. He wouldn’t search the piles of the dead. He refused to.
The sands of the beach crunched under his boots as he walked. The skin by his sword was the only part of him that felt warm. All the rest of his body was cold with fear and the winds from the sea. Sprays of mist lashed out at him as he called over and over again the name of the one he wanted to ensure was safe.
She had to be safe.
Blume was so powerful, so very gifted with magic. Surely she had survived again. That’s what she had done over and over against all manner of demons and magical opponents. She had survived. And he was going to find her. She was going to be alright.
She just had to be.
“Blume!” he called again.
He refused to believe she was defeated. She was too powerful. Too strong. She was Blume. What world could exist without her?
“Blume!”
“Ealrin,” came a voice from behind him.
He didn’t want to listen. He didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. Whatever Holve was thinking was wrong. Blume had to have survived. That’s what she did. Even Holve had survived magical trials before.
Ealrin spun on the spot.
“When the demons took you to the comet,” he said rapidly, grabbing Holve by the arms. “When they imprisoned you. How did you know you were there? Did they take Blume? Could she be up there as well?”
Ealrin looked up at where the comet floated in the sky. He refused to acknowledge the look on Holve’s face. It was not one that said he believed what Ealrin was saying.
“They wouldn’t have taken her there,” he said quietly. “They certainly want her gone. She may be...”
“Don’t!” Ealrin roared, throwing his hands up in the air. “She’s out here somewhere! Blume!”
“Mister Ealrin,” Jurrin’s calm voice came from behind Holve. Ealrin didn’t like the tone of his little friend. He refused to believe that he had seen the impossible. He turned around to search the beach more. Blume was fine. She was just...
“Blume!” Ealrin shouted and began to sprint at the same time. She was there. Right there. Sitting on a rock.
“Blume!” he said again, coming to a skid next to her, landing in a pile of sand and grabbing her hands. They were warm.
He thanked whoever was listening and began to say over and over again.
“You’re alright. You’re alright. You’re alright.”
He looked her in the eyes, trying to see what was going on inside her mind. She just sat there, blankly staring ahead. Her mouth was moving slightly as if trying to form words. Ealrin didn’t care. She was alive. She would be alright. She was just tired from the battle. There had been so much magic coursing through the land in those moments.
Perhaps she was exhausted and drained?
Of course, she was, Ealrin thought.
He took off his jacket and threw it over her. She didn’t react to the gesture. She just continued to stare ahead.
Serinde came running up behind them. Ealrin knew it was her by the sound of her shaky voice.
“Where’s Olma?” she asked. Ealrin could hear the pain in the elf's voice. She had taken a liking to Olma. Ealrin guessed she was as concerned for her as he had been for Blume.
At the sound of Olma’s name, Blume jerked and began to seize up. Almost at once she started to claw at Ealrin as if trying to escape from him, though he wasn’t holding her.
“No! NO!” she said over and over again, with increasing volume and terror. He didn’t know if he needed to grab her, to hold her still.
She seemed to recoil at his touch. He tried harder to grab her, but she scrambled away and clawed away from him on the beach, looking back at him as if he were a pursuer. Like he was a demon.
“Get away from me!” she shouted. “Don’t come any closer! He nearly got me! If she hadn’t... I would have... But she...”
“Blume...” Ealrin said, knowing the pain that was in his voice was coming straight from his heart.
What had happened during the battle?
How had Blume been affected?
“Don’t come near me!” she shouted.
“Blume,” Serinde said from a ways off. “Where’s Olma?”
Her words sounded desperate and frantic, nearly like Blume’s own.
At this second mention of Olma’s name, Blume stopped short. She froze in place and looked from side to side as if she were searching for something. Then, slowly, with what seemed to Ealrin like a considerable amount of effort, she looked up at his face.
He could see the tears freely flowing there.
“Olma...” she said quietly. “She’s.... Rayg... He...”
Ealrin closed his own eyes. Blume didn’t need to finish. He knew what she meant. Olma was dead by Rayg’s hand. He heard a gasp and a wail from Serinde’s direction and he knew the elf was tortured by the thought of Olma’s death.
More death.
There was always death.
It followed them everywhere they went. No matter what continent they were on, no matter where they went, death was always close by. He hated it. Ealrin wanted it all to stop.
But it wouldn’t.
There were still demons around. There were always men who hated each other for the gods that they worshipped. There were elves who detested the dwarves, who sought to kill off those who threatened their mountains.
There was always death.
A cry of rage came out of Ealrin’s mouth. He hated death. He hated pain. Why couldn’t it all just go away? Why was there such hardship in a land filled with enough trails as it was?
He opened his eyes to see Blume still in front of him, looking tortured.
What could he do to console her? How could he make it better? She had faced demons and pa
in herself. She was in a state of shock. What could he possibly do to help?
“Miss Blume?” came a voice from Ealrin’s side. He looked over and saw Jurrin standing there, now at eye level with him on his eyes. “Remember that song you sang, Miss Blume? The one on the ship when we were headed to the island?”
Ealrin didn’t know what Jurrin was referring to. It had been so long since he had heard Blume sing, he had nearly forgotten what the sound of her song was like.
Jurrin cleared his throat and coughed. Then he sang a tune, slightly off-key and with a wavering voice.
“How far does the bird fly?
How low does the valley go?
How far do the suns glide?
How vast do the seas flow?
How tall do the mountains climb?
How high do the blizzards snow?
I don’t know how far the birds fly.
I don’t know how high the mountains go.
But I’ll love you until I can find them.
And I’ll love despite all I don’t know.”
The last note of the song hung in the air. Far off there was the sound of men marching away from the destruction that had been left in the wake of the battle. Isolian ships sailed south to their own lands. Juttis and Prommus both headed west. The Veiled Ones had fled underground as soon as the fire had rained down on them from the demons above. The demons, for their part, were dispelled for now. But Ealrin knew how this worked. As long as that comet remained in the sky, they would return.
“Do you remember that song, Miss Blume?” Jurrin asked. “You sang it to me when I was sacred in that terrible storm. You told me it was going to be alright. It will be alright Miss Blume. Just give it some time. It’ll all be alright.”
Ealrin took a deep, ragged breath. He looked around at their party. Bruised, battered, beaten, and tired.
They had endured so much.
Yet here they were.
Being sung to by a halfling who had not lost hope.
57: Hope
The suns were nearly halfway finished with their journey across the sky, yet their light gave off no warmth to Octus. This was the part of any battle that he hated.
