The Last of Kel'Thara

by David Partelow

  Kaysa lowered her head, clutching to the seed resting around her neck. Its cold indifference did little to sooth her weary spirit, yet the young elf found resolve just the same. “I refuse such a notion, Marro. There is still good in this world. And if there is good then there is hope. That is what I shall cling to, not false dreams or lamentations for what is now gone. If I lose that, then I have nothing.”

  “Being an idealist is a sure path to doom in this world, young one,” replied Marro.

  “There is goodness, just as there is still life upon this terrain. It may be hidden or lessened, but that makes it no less true or apparent.”

  “Now you are speaking nonsense,” observed Marro directly.

  “Am I, mercenary? You and your companion Onzlyn are proof to my words. You saved our lives and currently usher us to safety,” said Kaysa.

  “It is a job we have been commissioned to do, nothing more or less. It has nothing to do with good or hope, for both have abandoned this world,” mused Marro.

  Kaysa shook her head. “Untrue,” she replied adamantly. “You hold some form of code. We still live because of you. Both you and your friend could have surely killed us too for our belongings, yet you did not. Instead you hasten us to sanctuary and endanger your own lives. That is something beyond evil indeed.”

  “Would you stake your life on that, Kaysa?” Marro challenged.

  “Why, Marro, you inquire as if I hold much of a choice in the matter,” said Kaysa.

  At this, Marro laughed richly, shaking his head. Under him Rufus grunted at his laughter. “You are truly something else, Kaysa,” he said.

  Kaysa offered no reply to this, instead choosing to scour the landscape once more. Her eyes longed to find anything but barren dull gray and lifeless tree trunks. Yet despite her best efforts, Kaysa was afforded no such relief. Instead, her thoughts retreated to the last moments in Quenthell and the enemy that had meant to claim her life.

  “Marro, who were the soldiers that tried to kill us? Why did they sentence my people to doom?” asked Kaysa.

  Marro’s face contorted as bitterness and contempt washed over his features. Soon he banished them as he looked across the landscape himself. “They serve the Ageless King Thorien from his city fortress of Thorindale. All there must offer their loyalties without question, for his will is absolute,” he replied, nearly hissing the words.

  Kaysa mulled on this a moment. “What of this world though? What of the true allegiance to Tharador, the great tree of all life?”

  Marro barked a bitter resemblance of laughter. “Look about you, Kaysa. This is the true face of all of Kel’Thara now. Thorien’s regard for himself has triumphed even over Tharador.”

  “How can this be?”

  Marro offered Kaysa a dark glance. “Because Thorindale is forged within the remnants of Tharador. Our fates were sealed years ago. The life of this world is leaving us in slow, agonizing gasps. One day we will have no choice but to join it.”

  “You speak of one who holds no hope for the future,” said Kaysa.

  “You have lived in seclusion, away from the truth that is. Hope died long ago along with Tharador,” replied Marro.

  “Then what does one do in this world and life without hope?” asked Kaysa.

  “Endure,” said Marro, before saying no more on the subject.

  A long span of silence fell between Kaysa and Marro then. The young elf wished not to press the matter, for the anger it stirred within Marro was growing. Instead she listened intently to the careless winds about them, for little else than their caravan offered noise. Every now and then she chanced quick glances to Marro, yet the mercenary kept his gaze fixed before him or spanning their surroundings for enemies.

  A sudden groan from Onzlyn’s carriage quickly garnered Kaysa’s attention. Looking over, Khey’s head soon emerged from the carriage door as he looked urgently at Marro. “We must hurry. Talcoros is fading and there is little else I can do,” he said.

  Marro addressed him casually as he continued their easy pace. “We are almost to our destination. Talcoros will have to find the resolve to endure,” he said.

  “There is no reason to be cold,” said Kaysa as Khey returned his head within the carriage.

  Marro shrugged at this. “I am not adept in such matters, young one. I can fight and I can survive. The knowledge to save your Elder is beyond me. But perhaps there are those in Faeth that can assist where I cannot."

  “Faeth?” asked Kaysa.

  Marro nodded. It is the home of the Dynpri, Onzlyn’s people. There you will be afforded rest and for your Elder’s sake, possibly a chance.”

  Kaysa nodded softly. “Thank you again for your kindness,” she said.

  Marro grinned, yet there was little warmth there. “It is simply the fulfillment of my obligation. You have already thanked me with compensation.”

  “I would like to still believe there is more to you than that, Marro.”

  “Such luxuries were taken from me years ago, Kaysa, along with my eye,” replied Marro casually before motioning ahead. “We have arrived,” he added.

  Kaysa looked head and saw little, save for a few small tents. As they drew closer, she noticed other elves similar to Onzlyn, looking upon them curiously with eyes obscured with goggles or dark lenses. One of Dynpri stood, brandishing a rifle much like Onzlyn’s as he approached Kaysa and the others. Onzlyn waved as he spoke curt, guttural-sounding words Kaysa had never heard before. The approaching Dynpri grinned as he waved the group forward.

  “This is certainly not what I had in mind when you said town,” mused Kaysa.

  “That is precisely the point,” offered Marro as he waved at the Dynpri as well.

  Kaysa sat silently as she observed her surroundings. Marro and Onzlyn lead the group beyond the small encampment and the watching Dynpri. As Kaysa examined the camp, her ears filled with an audible click before she felt the ground beneath them tremble. The young elf nearly gasped as the barren land before them lowered, offering entrance below ground.

  The opening offered a declining ramp that Marro and Onzlyn could take down one at a time. Marro lead, urging his mount into the darkness and unknown that awaited them. Now inside, Kaysa’s eyes strained at the diminished light offered as her senses adjusted to her new surroundings. Once Onzlyn’s carriage cleared the ramp, the ramp raised slowly, sealing Kaysa and the others from the outside world.

  Kaysa shivered at the closing of the ramp, yet fought her fears with observation of her surroundings. Soft yellow orbs illuminated the darkness, gifting just enough assistance to see through the underground caverns. Marro and Onlzyn brought their rides deeper into the tunnel before them. Reaching the end of the descending tunnel brought them to large doors of stone and metal, which were flanked by armed guards.

  At the sight of Onzlyn, one of the guards shouted an order in words alien to Kaysa. The doors before the group slowly opened, providing warmth and faint scents of food and spices foreign to those of Quenthell. Yet Kaysa’s stomach growled at this and she realized her hunger had been left unchecked for far too long. The young elf looked over to the carriage where she could see Lokus looking at the opening doors with great unease before the view claimed their attention fully.

  At the sight of Faeth, the ravenous hunger that Kaysa felt was temporarily abandoned. Her breath stilled for a moment and at this, Marro grinned. Kaysa had never seen such a view, a sentiment she knew she shared with her friends. Faeth stretched out before them with fierce majesty, and while it lacked natural light and open sky, these things made it no less daunting to its new visitors.

  Kaysa’s eyes darted about swiftly, trying in vain to absorb all that held her view. From homes and shops to halls, the buildings before her were all chiseled and shaped from stone. It was as if the Dynpri had carved their subterranean home. The process must have taken countless seasons to sustain and support the thousands that called Faeth their home. Very little of the light offered was from fires, as the yellow orbs from before supplied
the illumination Kaysa’s eyes required. The dank smell that teased her nostrils was blanketed with the aroma of smoked meats and a forge somewhere. Kaysa felt unease at the confinement yet hid these things as well as she clung to the seed upon her neck.

  “These people mean you no harm,” said Marro without looking back at Kaysa. He could feel her tension at the passing citizens watching them curiously.

  “Yes,” said Kaysa softly. “But they may not know that I mean the same.”

  “But you are with me, and I am known in Faeth,” said Marro.”

  “In the brief tenure of our acquaintance, such knowledge brings me little comfort,” said Kaysa. At this Marro laughed again.

  As Marro slowed his mount, the group was approached by an entourage of guards led by what Kaysa would consider an Elder of Faeth. The elf looked sternly between Onzlyn and Marro before glaring at Kaysa. Wearing robes, a sash adorned with gold, and a long goatee secured in several places, the elf held up his hand to stop the guards as he absorbed the scene, smelling the air. He gazed upon the outsiders with cold, deadened eyes that unnerved Kaysa as she fought to hold his gaze.

  "Marro. You have returned," said the elf as his drooping ears twitched. "Your presence is tolerated in Faeth, though never was there an offer for you to conjure more outsiders within our walls."

  "Always the utmost pleasure to see you too, Fareth," said Marro amusedly before he motioned to the elves exiting Onzlyn's carriage. Soon Khey and Vienda carefully procured Talcoros from the ride. "We came across these survivors fleeing from the hordes of Thorindale. They are refugees now in need of safety and they have commissioned us for this safety."

  Fareth balled his spindly fingers before resting them on his hips. "Were you followed? Have you endangered Faeth with your irresponsibility?" he asked.

  Marro shook his head easily. "Not at all, and that I can assure you," he replied.

  "And how can you be so sure?"

  "Every foe that held eyes to bear witness now lie dead in the wastelands," said Marro.

  "Marro speaks true," said Onzlyn, hopping down from his carriage. "We are safe, as are our people. But we bear wounded in tow," he added, pointing to Talcoros. The Elder groaned his agony as Vienda looked at Fareth expectantly.

  "Is there a place we can take him?" asked Khey as he searched about. "His flame is quickly fading, and I must tend to him at once."

  Fareth appeared torn between preservation and tolerance as he set his jaw. He then goaded one of the guards forward. "You may take him to the infirmary. My associate shall show you the way."

  "You have my eternal gratitude," said Khey as he set to follow the guardsman.

  "Wait!" croaked Talcoros as he reached for Fareth's arm. The Elder was fading of his strength but still possessed power within his grip. Painfully his eyes opened as he looked gravely at Fareth. "You must send word to your sovereign at once. It is with the utmost urgency that this is made so."

  Fareth pulled his arm slowly from the Elder's feverish grip as he shook his head. "Our sovereign is preoccupied at this juncture and will take no such request for audience," he said.

  Talcoros was unmoved by this, grabbing hold of Fareth's arm yet again. "Tell him this message. Tell him that all hope rests upon the final seed. And tell him this as if all Faeth depends upon it," he breathed before releasing Fareth.

  Fareth straightened his sash abruptly. "Very well," muttered the elf as he motioned for his security to follow him. "I will consider it the last wish of a dying man," he added before departing.

  With Fareth gone, Kaysa and the others were guided by the guard to a great hall offering lodging and care. With a curt order, Talcoros was taken into the infirmary ward. Only Khey was allowed in as Kaysa and the others were forced to wait outside. With Marro’s help, the group acquired refreshment and rest as they waited for any word on Talcoros.

  “I hope the healers here possess the level of magic ours hold in Quenthell,” said Lokus, breaking a long stretch of silence that had befallen the group.

  “Squash such hopes now, for they are in vain,” said Marro casually.

  “I did not ask for your audacity,” countered Lokus.

  Marro set his good eye upon Lokus, allowing some anger to bleed from it. “Nor did I request your condescension or assumptions. Look about, young elf. You are in the real world now, where all things are in short supply, including magic, and on that list now includes my patience,” he said.

  Lokus gripped to the weapon resting on his lap. “One of these days, I suspect you will have words with my bow,” he growled.

  Marro offered a sympathetic smile. “Let us hope it comes not to that, for my guns will not mourn your loss or grieve your overconfidence.”

  “That is enough from the both of you,” said Kaysa as she stood, placing herself between the two elves. “Forgive my friend, Marro. Emotions are high and the wait is proving torturous for us all,” she said to the mercenary before scowling at her friend. “And Lokus, we owe our lives to Marro and Onzlyn. The least you could do is restrain your frustrations from pouring upon them. An apology is expected.”

  Lokus looked as if he had been struck. “But, Kaysa,” he started.

  Kaysa shook her head, halting his objectives. “We are guests here in Faeth and in debt to our new friends regardless of payment. I expect you to act as would be anticipated of Talcoros for such a moment. Now consider your next words before you speak them,” she said.

  Lokus practically leaped from his chair in protest, hurting from an imagined slight. At last, understanding rushed over him and he lowered his head. To Kaysa it was like a spell being lifted, for now she could see the exhaustion and emotions in him. Lokus placed his bow down next to his quiver before resting his hand over his heart. Swallowing his pride, the young elf bowed to Marro and then Onzlyn.

  “My friend is right,” started Lokus. “I have spoken out of turn and with anger that is not yours to receive. For that I must ask for your pardon. If not for your assistance, surely we would be lost now.”

  Marro exchanged a humorous glance with Onzlyn. “Curious folk, are they not?” he asked.

  “Quite vexing,” said Onzlyn, adjusting his goggles.

  Lokus was about to unleash his emotions once more before Marro held up a hand to stop him. “Your apology is accepted, young elf. I am certain the pain you have endured on this day is great. What all of you require now is rest from your ordeal,” he said.

  Kaysa shook her head. “Not until we hear word of Talcoros,” she offered.

  “Quite vexing, indeed,” said Marro before he reclined in his chair once more.

  Kaysa fought the urge to challenge Marro as she sat herself back down again. Instead, she shifted her focus to Onzlyn who she knew least about. “You have a warm home here, Onzlyn. I must ask, why do so many of your kind obscure their eyes? I have yet to see a Dynpri’s gaze,” she said.

  Onzlyn looked at Kaysa with curious intensity before speaking. “Sight for my people is different from most. Many of my kind utilize the rest of our senses more than our eyes, and as such we sometimes must compensate,” he said.

  “How do you mean?” asked Kaysa.

  “Many of them have little to no sight naturally is what he is saying,” said Marro.

  “Wearing obscurities is considered proper manners, especially to outsiders,” added Onzlyn.

  “Can I ask why?” wondered Kaysa.

  “If you must,” said Onzlyn before he raised his hands and lifted his goggles.

  Kaysa’s breath stilled, but she was successful in thwarting the gasp that wished to escape her lips. As Onzlyn removed his goggles, Kaysa received the answer she sought. Onzlyn’s eyes were gone, removed from their sockets. In their place were two pulsing, yellow orbs. Offering their own soft light, Kaysa watched as Onzlyn looked at her with them, grinning at her surprise. She had no way of knowing the capacity of his sight, but understood he could see her easily. Satisfied at her response, Onzlyn put his goggles back on.

  Controlling her
responses, Kaysa nodded to Onzlyn as he watched her. “Thank you, Onzlyn. I appreciate the clarity you have given me. I’d much like to understand you and your people,” she said.

  “As vexing as she is, the warmth of her spirit is genuine,” said Onzlyn to Marro as if the others were no longer present.

  “Well you are the one with the magic eyes,” said Marro with the glimmer of a smile.

  “Do not encourage them, Kaysa,” said Vienda from the corner. Standing with her arms crossed, the warrior had said little until now.

  Before another retort could be offered, Khey entered the room. Wiping his bloodied hands upon cloth, the elf healer looked at his friends with pained reluctance. At the sight of Khey, silence attacked the room. Kaysa and the others watched Khey expectantly, yet none found comfort in the expression he wore.

  At last, Kaysa could take it no longer. “How is he, Khey?” she asked.

  Khey held his breath for as long as he was able, until he was forced to exhale and offer his report. “He is resting now, Kaysa,” he said as Vienda ventured over to embrace her chosen. “But the outlook is not good. Our work was a success, even without the use of magic. But there is more at work than his injuries.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Vienda.

  Khey sighed as he continued. “I fear Talcoros and his strength was linked to the forests of Quenthell. Without them and the magics that fueled our home, the Elder is fading quickly. I can halt his blood loss, but I can do nothing to stop the aging that is ravaging him as we speak.”

  “How long does he have, Khey?” asked Kaysa as she processed his prognosis.

  Khey shook his head. “Not long. Hours perhaps. A day if luck holds out,” he said.

  At this, Kaysa’s tears finally spilled. The exhaustion and grief caught up at last. Khey held to Vienda firmly as Lokus lowered his head. Onzlyn and Marro exchanged a glance before Marro stood. Turning, the mercenary knelt before Kaysa, placing a hand upon her shoulder.

  “I know the tears must come, young one, but you must quell them for now. Now is a time for strength and not your sorrows,” said Marro.