The Last of Kel'Thara

by David Partelow

  For nothing was wasted within the walls of Thorindale.

  Nothing.

  Free of his duty, Vakk ventured into his king’s fortress. The iron doors shut firmly behind him, closing Vakk off from the fading screams from outside. Now liberated of such misery, Vakk’s urgency shifted, for he held other matters to discuss with his king. He wasted no time as he girded himself for his audience.

  The Fortress of Ages rested in the heart of the remains of the world tree and upon the very center of the city. Unlike the rest of Thorindale’s structures, the king’s stronghold was a true and pure testament of elven craftmanship. The king had stressed it was important to hold a reminder of ages gone, when the lands had flourished and life was still plenty. The walls of the structure did much to ease the mind of Vakk and reminded him of what was truly important.

  The stronghold walls were adorned with elegant curves and soothing ivory, a deep contrast to the metal structures that dominated the city. The artistry and statues that decorated the halls were a whispered testament of a golden, prosperous age of a world once known as Kel’Thara. Little, if any, of that world remained, and long gone was Vakk’s remembrance of such a world. Vakk ran his hand over the smooth stone of an elven warrior. The sight and feel of it always inspired Vakk to persevere for better days.

  Vakk traversed the hallway with silent swiftness then, not wanting further distraction. However, he was swiftly met by the smells of food, real food, permeating the air and his nostrils. There would be a feast later to honor the Culling, a hollow tribute at best, but Vakk would not say no to filling his belly with succulents beyond stale bread or nutrient pastes. But first, he had to address his king. He had to hold words with Thorien, the Ageless One.

  Ruler of all.

  Again, Vakk met no resistance as he ventured into the throne room of his master. King Thorien sat elevated on steps, his impossibly detailed and carved throne placed between him and the last remnants of holy soil. The king appeared aloof, his mind fit to wander. To his sides, servants tended to him, feeding him an elixir wrought from the last seed of Tharador. For while dead, the tree of life still offered profound magics and healing.

  As Vakk approached, King Thorien's unusually black pupils fixed upon him. The sensation was ever unsettling for the field commander who instead focused on his master's features. Thorien wore the elegant attire of an elven age nigh forgotten. The white of his garments blended almost seamlessly with his skin. Well kept, ancient armor adorned his chest, forearms and shins in whispers of gold. Thorien was a man out of time, his slender frame appearing forged from white marble. He resembled a young elf preserved for all time in stone, and there was an unnatural, almost unsettling beauty to him.

  Upon seeing Vakk, King Thorien stood slowly, deliberately, as if every movement required concentrated effort. He raised a hand as an afterthought, and the servants gathered their things and departed. "My field commander returns from duties I have no doubt elevate me and all of Thorindale. Come forth, Vakk. Speak your mind and your heart, for you have earned the right to both in my presence," said Thorien. His voice carried like a grim specter within his throne room.

  "Thank you, my liege," said Vakk as he knelt at the base of the stairs. He could feel ancient eyes on him, calculating his every movement. "The Culling is complete. I exercised my authority and offered a sum that will have us safe with food stores for some time."

  To this, Thorien nodded. "You have attained wisdom from your last mistake," he observed.

  "Yes, my liege," said Vakk as he looked up at his king. "And I thank you for the opportunity to gain such wisdom."

  Silently, King Thorien returned to his throne with slow sureness as he continued watching Vakk. His eyes suggested he was looking upon a youthful cub, or possibly his next meal. It was difficult to discern as he resumed speaking. "I know your intentions were good and well, but my will is for the survival of the kingdom and our way of life. A handful of people is but a drop in the pond against the prospect of extinction. I trust that you will make the correct choice in the future?"

  Vakk nodded once more. "It shall, my liege. You have my word and bond."

  King Thorien nodded as he motioned his hand upward. "Then rise, Vakk, and join me," he said.

  Standing, Vakk ventured forward and up the small cluster of stairs. Despite good graces and unswerving loyalty, the field marshal was never fully at ease in his king's presence. He knew so little of his ageless ruler, and the air of indifference and lifespan was always unnerving, even on the best of days. Still, Vakk hid such apprehensions as he stood firmly in front of his master and commander.

  Appraising him, Thorien continued. "Do not dwell on your actions today. Instead realize that your commitment will save the lives of countless more. It is a worthy sacrifice for them to pay for all of Thorindale," he said.

  Vakk nodded cautiously. "I will do that, my liege, and I welcome the newer perspective," he offered.

  King Thorien then reclined into his throne, resting his hands upon his chest. "Now again I say it, Vakk, what is on your mind and heart? For I need not ageless eyes to know you are troubled."

  Vakk relaxed his clenched teeth as he prepared his words. "My liege, I must know. I have waged an exhaustive search for what you seek. But in these travels, in these Cullings, I would much like to hold an answer. I am not questioning you or your will, but for my own heart and soul I must know. What happens to Thorindale if it is found?"

  King Thorien pondered Vakk's words carefully before speaking. "Ultimately, it will mean the preservation of our people, Vakk. And what we are set to gain would ensure that I remain flush with the strength I need to see our city through. We will press on. Our people shall be fed better than they have in a great span. All sound justifications to our plight as a people and kingdom."

  "Can our world be saved?" asked Vakk.

  The king shook his head slowly. "Kel'Thara has passed on, Vakk, and it has taken Tharador and left it's people to fend for themselves. Kel'Thara is no longer our world. We are charged with making a new one and a future of our own design. It is the only way now. To cling to our past means nothing but our inevitable extinction, and I will not stand for that while I am alive."

  Vakk placed a hand over his heart, bowing to his king. "Thank you, my liege. The desire to know was burdening my heart and spirit. Both know relief now," he said.

  Suddenly, King Thorien leaned forward and his limbs became more animated. He looked at Vakk intently as he spoke. "There is more to this, is there not? You bring me news and revelation," he stated.

  Vakk nodded. "I do, my liege."

  "Go on," said the king.

  "I've found it, sire," said Vakk.

  The king stood, his movements swifter than Vakk could remember ever seeing from him. "Tell me what you say is true, that you have seen it with your own eyes for I will not accept a second-hand account," he said.

  "It is true," said Vakk as he let the king look into his gaze. "I have seen it with my own eyes. We have found it at long last."

  A life that Vakk had never seen rushed within the king then as he started barking orders. “Assemble the third legion to depart at once. Vakk, take whatever is required to attain absolute victory. We now hover at the most crucial point in all of the history of this world,” he said before inching close and placing a hand on Vakk’s shoulder. “You have done well. See this to the end and I will elevate you, Vakk. You will be raised to a status that no one will ever touch or challenge. You will be a hero, immortalized in the annals of Thorindale.”

  Vakk nodded. “I understand, my liege,” he said.

  King Thorien nodded before nudging him toward the exit. “Go now. Return only when you have claimed the spoils of war,” he commanded.

  Turning, Vakk made his way down the stairs, cataloguing tasks of mental preparation. Their target was known only to him, a knowledge that garnered him vital importance. A mixed breed of emotions swelled in the elf as he realized the carnage that lay ahead. For while he carried h
is duties with pride, this did not mean it did not leave scars and darkness upon his soul.

  “Field Marshal Vakk.”

  At the utterance of his title, Vakk halted, turning once more to address his king. “Yes, sire?”

  Evaluating him mercilessly again, Thorien let the silence fill the room before speaking again. “Remember there is nothing else now in your path. No excuses. No obstacles. All that remains is victory. Remember that,” he said.

  “I understand,” said Vakk as he turned again to depart.

  King Thorien the Ageless watched his best man go before sitting upon his throne again. A swirl of thoughts and energy still rushed through him and, for the first time in years, he felt alive. Calming himself, he made calculations as he planned contingencies. All was falling into place. Quenthell had been found.

  Soon, the last remnants of the old world would be wiped away and the last of Kel’Thara would be erased forever.

  3 Peril and Revelation

  It was with heavy reluctance that Kaysa found herself returning to consciousness. She felt all but spent as heavy eyelids fought to open. Her limbs felt like stone and her movements were clumsy. But what hurt her most was the pain she still felt in her ravaged heart. What Kaysa had witnessed had been no nightmare, and the realization of that brought her back fully to wakefulness.

  Focusing, Kaysa looked about cautiously. She was no longer in the forest, nor was she in what was no longer forest. The image of the desolation still charred her thoughts and chilled her soul. Instantly she felt the warmth of the room and knew she was safe.

  "Awake at last," said a voice next to her.

  Kaysa turned her head to that voice, offering a glimmer of a smile. "Lokus," she whispered.

  Lokus offered a brave smile as he squeezed her hand. "I hope you know how difficult it was to carry you all the way back home," he said.

  Kaysa's inclination was to offer him sarcasm, but quickly she remembered the situation. "What has happened? Where are we?"

  Lokus placed a hand on her shoulder. "Calm yourself, Kaysa. We are in the Elder's Hall. You have been unconscious for almost the whole of a day."

  "That explains the hunger," said Kaysa.

  "But not your actions or trespasses," thundered a voice. Kaysa turned toward the angry sound, casting her eyes upon Talcoros. The village's eldest elder stood angrily with his arms crossed, a ripple of irritation rushing across his beard and body. It was the most emotion she had ever seen pour from the elder as he regarded Kaysa furiously. "You were informed of the limits to traverse, warned not to cross those limits and yet you have. Explain yourself at once," he added.

  Kaysa sat upright fully, twisting to place her feet upon the floor. She could feel the elder's anger as she steeled herself and replied. "The boar we hunted was wounded and in pain. We wished to ease its suffering and bring back the meat for the village. I pursued it deeper into the forest until...until..." she said, trailing off.

  "Until what?" Talcoros pressed.

  Kaysa looked back up at him painfully. "Until there was nothing left! No forest. No animals. No life. All that could be seen was desolation. There is nothing left of the world around us!" she cried, tears rushing down her cheeks.

  Talcoros nodded solemnly as Kaysa wept. The elder elf stroked his beard, lost in a well of thought. At last he looked up and motioned to a guard at the door. The guard opened the door, allowing in the remainder of the Council of Elders. The remaining seven elders assembled around Talcoros along with the warrior Vienda. All of them looked upon Kaysa gravely as she searched each set of eyes through her own tears.

  "So," started Talcoros gravely. "You have seen the truth with your own eyes."

  Kaysa stood quickly then, disbelief fueling her actions. "You knew then?"

  "Of course, we know," spat Lendoran. The elder scowled with cold, green eyes as he motioned to his surroundings. "It is our magic that keeps Quenthell safe from the madness that threatens to engulf us. And it is a safety that has been jeopardized today with your youthful carelessness."

  Kaysa discovered her hands were clenched into fists as she fought her tears. "How were we supposed to know? How could we know that only death and despair await us at our borders? I was told to respect life! I was told to ease suffering when I was able. I was never told of the void that awaits us beyond our borders!"

  "You were supposed to do as you were told, so that such things never came to pass," said Agotha. The silver-haired elder watched Kaysa with judgement in her gaze. The woman's disapproval adorned her features as she shook her head. "It was not your place to question the word of the council, but rather follow it implicitly."

  Vienda stepped forward then. The head of Quenthell's defenses, extended a hand, wishing for calm. "Kaysa, the rules and boundaries are for your protection and the survival of Quenthell. We simply mean to keep everyone safe," she said.

  Kaysa’s eyes narrowed to slits at the warrior's words. "Do you know what is out there, Vienda? Have you laid eyes on it for yourself?" she asked.

  Vienda shook her head. "I have not."

  Kaysa nodded. "It is not something you would ever wish to see in this life or any other, for now it can never be unseen from my spirit," she replied. At the piercing gaze her eyes set, Vienda halted her words and said no more.

  "You press for our case without question," hissed Lendoran. "For the good of all of our people, secrecy must be maintained."

  Kaysa shook her head. "I believe our people should know the truth and understand the importance of what we possess and how we could possibly counter it," she refuted.

  Agotha scoffed as her anger took hold. "You are in no position to question our word, child! You have done enough harm to last a lifetime," she spat as she pointed at Kaysa. "Do you understand what we could endure if we were discovered? Do you not see the peril we attempt to repel with our illusion spells? It is a heavy toll to maintain and it could have all been for naught due to the careless steps of a defiant brat!"

  Lokus stood then, coming to stand between the elders and Kaysa. "You hold no rights to chastise her so! Kaysa made a mistake, but it was a mistake wrought of good intentions. She would not have even been in that situation had I not been so careless," he challenged before lowering his head and softening his tone. "If you are to admonish her, then it is prudent that we share in this blame, for we were together in those woods."

  The room returned to silence as the elders exchanged glances and consulted one another with quick whispers and gestures. Kaysa watched them as she found it more difficult to control her breathing. What she had seen beyond the forest edge was horrific, but knowing the elders knew it existed made it worse somehow. Her whole world was suddenly ripped asunder as Kaysa tried desperately to reclaim its meaning.

  At last, Talcoros spoke again with a calming voice meant to soothe all present. "We are not here to punish you. We simply needed to know the extent of the trespass. Both of you must understand by now the importance of secrecy. We will keep you both here until we are assured that the secret remains intact for the good of all of Quenthell," he said.

  "It's not right," said Kaysa lowering her head.

  Agotha rushed forward, taking Kaysa's shoulders in her hands. "That is not your place to decree! Our word is the law and we have told you to stay silent! You can remain here until you understand the truth for yourself! Until then we will weigh the lives and well-being of many over that of one!"

  The group burst into loud discourse as arguments broke out. Kaysa held her ground as Agotha shook her. She grabbed at the elder's arms as Lokus tried to free her. Talcoros called for order, called for the calming of everyone present. It was then that the entire hall trembled, bringing the room to silence.

  Talcoros stretched out his senses, listening intently as the room trembled again. "By the life of Tharador...they have found us," he breathed.

  At this, Agotha looked darkly at Kaysa. The anger was gone and replacing it was gravity, grim and bare. "You don't realize it yet, but you have likely
doomed us all," she whispered before releasing the young woman.

  Kaysa watched in horror as Talcoros shouted orders. Lokus tried to stir Kaysa to no avail as Vienda left to rouse the defenses. The elders bickered over the next course of action, pointing fingers at Kaysa as they did so. Talcoros called again for order as Kaysa stood frozen. The moments and the revelations had frozen her as harshly as a magical spell as Kaysa tried to make sense of it all.

  Outside, the grounds of Quenthell trembled once more.

  ****************

  Standing before his rover, Field Marshal Vakk surveyed the barren landscape before him. Flanking him was the third legion in its entirety. Scores of soldiers adorned in black uniforms and crimson armor stood at the ready. In their hands were metal muskets as their hips sported regulation short swords. The swell of soldiers in the legion looked hungry for battle, or at the very least, hungry. And this was enough for Vakk.

  Scattered about the scores of soldiers were machines of war. In the front lines, fearsome Ravagers, treaded, armored artillery, prepared to unload their devastating payloads. Behind them, pilots of the Harvesters were checking their vehicles on all points, ensuring they were ready to gather the spoils of war. Vakk was satisfied on all accounts that the third legion was indeed prepared.

  Taking notice of the uncertain expression of his men, Vakk stepped forward, holding up a hand for attention. The field marshal needed no words, for he knew his actions would speak the volumes required. Vakk waited patiently for many spans, ensuring that all focus rested solely on him. Satisfied, he set to work.

  Reaching over his shoulder, Vakk procured a special spear resting upon his back. Hitting a button, the spear unfurled, extending itself to almost equal height of the field marshal. The elf whispered an old incantation into the spear tip and slowly a grim light choked from the weapon. Readying the spear, Vakk gauged the distance before him before hauling back and throwing the weapon.