The Fall of Neverdark

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  The ranger folded his arms. “Not unless they’ve been telling the truth all this time.” Galanör met Hadavad’s dark eyes. “If The Echoes’ priests, The Black Hand, can really see the future, they would know, well, everything. Some ancient priest could have foreseen Alijah retrieving the scroll and known exactly what to do to make sure that happened.”

  “No,” Hadavad replied adamantly. “They know their way around dark magic, but no-one can see into the future. Not elves, not dragons, not the most powerful mages in the world. It’s just a trick The Crows use to pull in followers, nothing more.”

  Galanör argued, “We have to accept it as a possibility, Hadavad. There’s a reason The Echoes have survived the Ages, survived the wars and genocide. It all makes sense if you—”

  “If you what? Accept that The Crow can see the future?” The mage dropped his head. “We might as well give up now if that’s the case. They’ve already won if they know what we’re going to do next.”

  Seeing them lock horns over the subject was oddly uncomfortable, reminding Alijah of the times he caught his parents arguing.

  “To what end?” Ellöria asked, breaking the mounting tension. “What would The Echoes of ages past have to gain by ensuring the prophecy was found by Alijah?”

  “We went south,” Vighon offered. “That led from one nightmare to the next. We were lucky to have survived any of it.”

  “From your recollection,” Ellöria continued, “none of you were required in the spell to resurrect Asher or bind him to Malliath. So I ask again; to what end? What do The Black Hand of today have to gain from your presence in Paldora’s Fall?”

  The answer hit Alijah in the form of an image. He was momentarily back in Paldora’s Fall, staring into the blazing purple eyes of Malliath. When he returned to the present, Ellöria was watching him closely.

  The elf said, “As impossible as the spell would seem, the only advantage to having you present would be your binding to Asher and Malliath.”

  Alijah broke their eye contact. He hadn’t enjoyed Galanör’s retelling upon their arrival and he hated hearing it from Ellöria even more. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were talking about something incredibly private to him.

  “That would complicate any encounter with Malliath,” Galanör agreed. “But only to a few.”

  “It is often only a few who can make a difference,” Ellöria wisely replied.

  Alijah could see that Hadavad disagreed with it all. The old mage was beyond certain that The Crow and his predecessors were lying about their prophetic skills. In truth, Alijah was equally convinced. He believed, as Hadavad did, that they had put themselves in the middle of The Black Hand’s schemes, nothing more.

  “I would say it’s more likely that the prophecy was damaged thousands of years ago,” he said. “They must have put the protection spell on it to make sure they didn’t lose the whole scroll. Maybe they considered it sacred…”

  “I agree,” Hadavad said. “Like The Echoes of Fate, the words are open to multiple interpretations. They can be used to explain any narrative depending on the reader’s perspectives.”

  Galanör placed his hands on his hips. “It says a warrior will be resurrected in the heart of a fallen star, Hadavad. How open to interpretation is that?”

  “Paldora’s Star is not the first to fall from the heavens,” Hadavad countered. “Where do you think the silvyr mines in Dhenaheim come from? You could easily have interpreted it a different way and travelled north instead of south.”

  “Wait?” Alijah held up a hand. “You know it says warrior?”

  The ranger gestured to their host. “Lady Ellöria can read the ancient glyphs better than all of us.”

  “Do we know what else it says?” the half-elf asked.

  Sitting on one of the smaller roots, Ellöria maintained her regal posture. “There is only a collection of lines that can be read. It should be noted that out of context, they have even less meaning.”

  “What does it say?” Alijah asked again, annoyed by his own eagerness in light of his recent opinion. He chalked it up to being the one who had found the ancient relic in the first place.

  From memory alone, Ellöria said, “From the first verse, it says: As the Age turns to ruin, so too will the light turn to darkness. There is mention of a pact, also. Between who or what I cannot say and I believe it folly to speculate as the rest is damaged.”

  Ignoring Ellöria’s advice completely, Vighon speculated, “It’s most likely talking about The Black Hand and the orcs.”

  Hadavad shook his head. “That’s the narrative…”

  Ellöria waited for silence before continuing, “The second verse reads: A warrior shall be resurrected in the heart of a fallen star. There is a broken line regarding a dragon, but the rest is too damaged to make sense of. The next part of that verse, however, is very interesting. Only magic wrought of unity can break the chains. I find the choice of words unusual, though I cannot speak of their meaning. The last line has only two words that remain intact: immortal ash.”

  To Alijah’s understanding, the second verse made as little sense as the first, lending more to the opinion that it meant nothing at all.

  “What about the last verse?” Vighon asked.

  “Through the forge of war, the world will have…” Ellöria trailed off. “The rest is too damaged.”

  Alijah sighed and rolled up the prophecy. “Our initial translation may have seen us travel south, but I think it’s fair to say that the rest of it is useless, regardless of your perspective or belief.”

  “What matters is what we do next,” Vighon added.

  Alijah gave his friend a hard look. He had never heard anything so determined from the northerner.

  “You are welcome to stay in Ilythyra,” Ellöria offered. “When we have heard back from Ameeraska and Calmardra, we will ensure the survivors of Tregaran find their way south again; under the safety of our escort, of course.”

  “North is our course,” Hadavad announced. “Gideon Thorn is in Lirian, or what remains of it. The schemes of The Black Hand remain to be seen and the orcs are even more unpredictable.” The mage turned to Alijah. “I would say the only problem we can face is your bond with Malliath and Asher.”

  It wouldn’t have been Alijah’s first plan. “And you believe that Gideon can help me with that?” he asked incredulously.

  “If there’s anything that can help us to undo this spell it will be found in the library on The Lifeless Isles. Besides, I fear it won’t be long before we hear from Malliath and Asher again. When that happens, it would be best for everyone if your life wasn’t tied to theirs.”

  “A sound course of action,” Ellöria agreed. “We shall provide you all with enough supplies for the journey.”

  Thoughts of his sister crept back into his mind. Alijah tried to ignore the relief he felt at knowing he would see her again. He hid his smile well.

  On the northern edge of the forest, where the trees met the snow-covered plains, the four companions said their farewells to the elves of Ilythyra. A small escort had accompanied Ellöria, each providing them with various supplies.

  Alijah subconsciously straightened his posture when his great aunt approached. In both hands, the Lady of Ilythyra presented him with a quiver.

  “Thirty years ago, I gave one of these to your mother before she first sailed to The Shining Coast. Like hers, the quiver is enchanted.”

  Alijah’s eyes lit up. As an archer, he had marvelled no end at his mother’s quiver, enchanted to never run out of arrows.

  “I cannot accept this gift,” he replied without thinking. “You have already given us so much.”

  “I did not ask if you would accept it,” Ellöria said, lifting the quiver a little higher.

  Alijah bowed his head and took the quiver in his hands. The surface was laced with beautiful patterns of gold and the wood itself was engraved with ancient glyphs. He wasted no time removing his arrows and placing them inside the new quiver. He pul
led one out and smiled as it was immediately replaced by a new one.

  “Thank you, Lady Ellöria.” Alijah bowed again, dropping his head even lower this time.

  The elf offered a warm smile and embraced him. “You do not bow to me…” she whispered.

  That was a concept Alijah would always struggle with. Had he been born and raised in Ayda, among his mother’s people, Ellöria was right; he wouldn’t bow to her. The elven hierarchy was absolute, making his place among them indisputable.

  But he didn’t belong in a land of immortals.

  Alijah stepped back and bowed again. “That is not the world I know,” he said. “Thank you for the quiver.”

  With that, the four turned to begin their journey north. They each had their own horse now, a fact that made Vighon very happy.

  Ellöria’s voice cut through the cold air. “There is one more gift I would see you take.”

  The companions stopped as one and turned back to see an elf break free of Ellöria’s escort. He presented the Lady of Ilythyra with an ornate wooden box and opened the lid for her. Alijah’s interest was piqued when he saw the contents glow.

  “The journey to Lirian is long,” Ellöria continued. “If Gideon Thorn has the means to break the bond between you and Malliath, I would see you with him as soon as possible.” The elf removed the crystal from within the ornate box and walked beyond the tree line, into the plains.

  “Lady Ellöria,” Galanör began with some concern. “Such a thing is precious, but to open a portal from here to Lirian would cost you greatly.”

  “It would cost you greatly, Galanör of house Reveeri.” Ellöria came to a stop with her green dress blowing gently in the breeze. “Besides, I am not opening a portal to Lirian. I can get you as far as Vangarth, just south of Lirian. There simply isn’t enough magic in this crystal to go any farther.”

  “Thank you,” Alijah said earnestly.

  With Vighon on one side and Galanör on the other, they prepared to enter the portal. Only then did Alijah realise that Hadavad was astride his horse, apart from them all.

  “What’s wrong?” Alijah asked.

  The old mage looked briefly to the east. “This is where we part ways.”

  “Part ways?” Alijah echoed, looking to the east himself. “What are you talking about?”

  Vighon nodded his head to the north. “You said we were to find Gideon Thorn.”

  “And you will,” the mage said boldly. “You don’t need me for that.”

  “Where are you going?” Alijah demanded.

  Hadavad sighed and he struggled to find the words. “I can’t explain it. I just know I have to go another way.”

  The mage looked at Ellöria but the half-elf couldn’t decipher their expressions. It was apparent, however, that this was no surprise to the Lady of Ilythyra. It had most likely been Hadavad who suggested the crystal to see them parted beyond reunion.

  “I don’t understand…” Alijah glanced at the open plains. “Why are you going another way?”

  Hadavad’s mouth opened but he appeared displeased with whatever his answer was to be. “I’m going to get answers, Alijah. At least, I think I am.”

  “You’re making less sense than normal,” the rogue argued. He turned to the silent ranger. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

  “Answers are in short supply,” Galanör said from within his hood. “I would welcome any that Hadavad might find.”

  Alijah shook his head in despair. “Where is this coming from? You’re suddenly just leaving?”

  “Why don’t we discuss this in Vangarth?” Vighon suggested.

  Hadavad shook his dreadlocks. “My path lies to the east,” he persisted. “Whatever The Black Hand are doing, they’ve been planning it for a long time. We need answers if we’re going to get in front of them.”

  Alijah still wasn’t satisfied. “How do you know the answers lie to the east? I thought the library in The Lifeless Isles had all the answers.”

  Hadavad could only offer a stoic expression. “I’m still going, Alijah. We will meet again, I am sure of it.” Before any further protest, the mage turned his horse to the east.

  “Wait!” Alijah ushered his horse to cut in front of Hadavad. “We need to compare the prophecies. You need to be there; nobody knows The Black Hand or The Echoes like you do.”

  Hadavad eyed one of the satchels on the back of Alijah’s horse. “You have the prophecy now, boy.”

  Alijah looked over his shoulder to see the cylindrical tube given to them by the elves.

  “Don’t doubt yourself,” the mage continued. “You’re a quick learner and you’ve got a hunger for it now. You need answers. You get yours and I’ll get mine. Only then can we put it all together and make a real difference.” Hadavad slapped Alijah’s arm affectionately before digging his heels into the horse. “Keep each other safe!” he called back.

  The three sat on their horses and watched the mage ride off towards the white horizon. Alijah had gone off into the world plenty of times without Hadavad, not always sure when they were going to meet up again. For some reason, this felt different.

  Ellöria’s melodic voice offered comfort. “Those who live in the currents of magic will always be called to a different path. Hadavad must go his way now, and you must go yours.”

  The Lady of Ilythyra threw the crystal into the open air and flexed her fingers, awaking the magic stored inside. The crystal exploded into a portal of pitch black, distorting the snow around it.

  “Let him go…” Galanör said as he guided his horse forward.

  Alijah watched the mage ride away without turning back. Thankfully, Vighon ushered Ned forwards and cut off his view of Hadavad. It reminded the rogue that he wasn’t as alone as he felt.

  “Shall we?” The northerner had to battle with Ned to walk through the portal.

  Alijah followed behind his friend and offered Ellöria one last bow of the head. Unlike Galanör, the elf showed no sign of fatigue or discomfort at holding open a portal. She was strong, like all that shared the Sevari bloodline. It took Alijah a moment longer than it should have to realise that he was included in that bloodline.

  Watching Hadavad, his mentor, ride away as they entered a portal and travelled hundreds of miles in but a few steps, Alijah reminded himself that he was strong enough to do this. He held onto that thought and rode into the abyss.

  36

  Parting Ways

  Just beneath the cloud cover, Inara and Athis flew side by side with Gideon and Ilargo. The young Dragorn was sure to keep a close eye on her master. Both dragon and rider appeared in good health now, but having seen their injuries up close, Inara struggled to shed her concern.

  Through their bond, she could feel Athis’s alertness. His senses were far more acute than normal, even when compared to hunting.

  What troubles you? she asked.

  The red dragon kept his eyes on the sky. They could be anywhere…

  Inara knew Athis was talking about Asher and Malliath. She lifted her head a little and joined him in searching the skies. Between the snow-covered world and the grey clouds, there was nothing but air.

  It’s unsettling, the Dragorn commented. I’m not used to feeling vulnerable in the sky.

  Nor am I, wingless one. I am hoping that after their fight with Master Thorn and Ilargo, Malliath and Asher are in need of rest.

  Don’t you think it’s unusual, Inara said, that Asher would come all the way to Lirian just to reclaim one of his swords?

  Perhaps they were instructed to destroy Lirian, Athis countered. Though, I see your point. If Asher’s will is truly enslaved to The Crow, why would he seek out a weapon that belonged to him personally?

  Maybe there is something left of him in there.

  Athis’s voice was soft in her mind. We can hope…

  The dragons continued their flight south, following The Selk Road below, until they came across Vangarth, nestled in the bottom of The Evermoore.

  For most of their journey, t
he road below had been filled with people. Gideon’s warning to King Weymund hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. Now, everyone under his rule was on their way to Grey Stone, seeking shelter from not only Malliath, but also the invading orcs.

  Inara couldn’t help but think of Alijah and the others again. The orcs had set The Arid Lands on fire and she had left them.

  The two dragons circled the town for a while, making sure that the majority of its inhabitants evacuated safely. It was as troubling as it was frustrating to think that the orcs could attack from underground without any notice.

  Through the bond that they all shared, Inara became aware that Ilargo had spotted something only a moment before Athis did. The red dragon shared their discovery, guiding Inara’s curiosity to the western edge of Vangarth. From their high vantage, all four could see the spark of a portal open and a trio of riders emerge as if from nowhere.

  To her eyes, the riders were only distinguishable by their horses. Besides Gideon, there were only a few individuals in all of Illian who could open portals and most of them resided in Ilythyra.

  Have the elves come to help?

  Athis adjusted his angle of approach to better see the riders as they emerged from the tree line. It’s Alijah! he exclaimed.

  Inara felt a wave of relief wash over her mind. Who is he with?

  Athis began to descend alongside Ilargo. He is with Vighon and Galanör.

  There was a name missing. No Hadavad?

  The portal has closed, Athis replied.

  Inara didn’t know what to make of the mage’s absence, but she decided the portal was a good sign; it meant they had been assisted by her great aunt, Lady Ellöria.

  With most of the town already packed up and travelling north, the southern end of the town was largely abandoned; perfect for two large dragons. All but Galanör’s horse became rattled by the sudden appearance of the great wyrms of the sky.

  When the cloud of unsettled snow found its rest once more, Inara joined Gideon in the street. Those at the end of Vangarth’s human trail stopped what they were doing and stared at the dragons. For most, it was the first time they had ever laid eyes on one close to.