by A W Tinney
“Aye, er…Balar guide him,” the gnome said uncomfortably.
Kasela nodded grimly. “He did what was asked of him. As we all must do. Come, there is an ill feeling here and I do not wish to…”
Her words trailed off, as her eye caught the outline of something laying in the dust. Long, curved and somehow glowing.
A metal staff perfectly preserved, that had miraculously survived the blast.
“What is that?” she asked, turning to each of them and seeing that both gnome and elf had the same expression. That of shame. “You know what this is?”
The sky-gnome shook his grey head. “Truly, Knight, I do not. But I have seen it before.” He spoke sombrely.
“Eresor we…”
“Did not know, Nymida. And now we do.” He stepped over and lifted the staff. Not one speck of dust clung to it. It shimmered perfectly, even in the bleak night. Kasela did not know what it was, only that it must be evil.
“You are responsible for this?” she spat. “For the ruination of the city?”
“We are,” the elf breathed.
“We are not,” Eresor interjected. “We were told nothing of what it was, or why it was needed.” Narrow bead like eyes glared at the elf. “That we didn’t ask was our only folly.”
Nymida’s eyes welled with tears. “I should have foreseen this.”
“As we all should,” the gnome whispered. “All this for a measly one hundred sovereigns.”
Kasela drew her sword. “Whatever this is, you two seem to know of it, and I will not have it in my city a moment longer.” She stepped forward with the blade pointed at the gnome’s head. “Take it and go. You are no longer welcome here.”
The pair ignored Kasela, to her frustration. “We must destroy it,” Nymida blurted. “We cannot let it exist. It is evil, Eresor.”
The gnome sighed. “It was indeed a poor investment.”
“I don’t care what it is,” the Knight growled. “Take it, and yourselves, and leave.”
The sky-captain looked up at Kasela, onyx eyes piercing. “I will not ask your forgiveness, Knight, for this was not our intent.” He sneered briefly, then sighed. “However, I do now vow to destroy this…thing, and prevent this happening to others.” He folded his arms in the customary gnomish way. “I seal my word, which is iron,” he chanted. “Nymida; let us be on our way.”
The pair walked away, regarding the staff with uncertainty. Kasela caught a glimpse of the shaft. It was…mesmerising. How it suddenly changed, glowing silver, gold, onyx, bronze. How it sang to her, almost calling her…
“Wait,” the Knight called, racing after them. The pair halted, giving her quizzical looks. “Take me with you.”
A pause.
“You want to come with us?” the elf asked.
Kasela shook her head. “I do not. Not out of choice anyway. Yet I must.”
“And why must you?” the captain asked.
“Because I made a vow to protect this city. That staff,” she pointed her sword at it, “whatever it may be, made me fail in that duty today. I would see it destroyed. With my own eyes.”
The gnome growled. “She doesn’t trust us.”
“Would you?” the Knight asked.
“She may be useful,” Nymida said contemplatively.
“How?”
“She seems a capable warrior.”
“I am Defender of the City, elf. Do not forget it.”
“Not if you leave,” the elf responded haughtily.
At that, Eresor chuckled. “Leave her, Nymida. You have stones, Knight, I’ll give you that.” The gnome paused a moment, eying Kasela from head to toe. Finally, he shrugged and spat. “Fine, what’s one more passenger after all. Besides, I’ll doubt she’ll live as long as you, elf.”
“Indeed,” Nymida said. “Come, Knight. You’ll find Eresor does not like to dwell in one place for too long.”
The trio departed, leaving the ruin of Faris-Manzil in their wake. The night grew darker, colder. Ravens gathered, invading fractured rooftops, their silent onyx eyes beholding all. Shadows lengthened in the waning light of the bronze sun. Throughout the city could be heard the wailing of the wounded, the clanging of hammers as they sought to rebuild the damage done. In the distance, beyond the forests and mountain slopes, herd-horns blared. An airship hummed overhead as it sped into the distance.
In the midst of it all, there was a whisper, a voice so insignificant that not one mortal soul heard it speak.
This is merely the beginning. All things change.
The Shadows have only begun to rise.
