In A Time Of Darkness

by Gregory James Knoll

  * * * * *

  It had been over a week since Ristalln had lost his brother, his friend and his leader. He knew that was not long enough to recover. A month would not be, maybe even a year. Perhaps, it may never truly fade. Normally, this would have rendered him distraught. Had he actually stopped to think about it, it most likely could. The Knight had made it a point to keep going, and stay busy, fearful it would overwhelm him. It wasn't a dread of dealing with it that motivated him, but his appreciation for that man that was causing it. Grahamas would have done the same had it been him on the opposite of things. So in some small way, at least in Ristalln's head, this was his way of paying tribute to him. Grahamas was a man that deserved a memorial, but until he was in a situation where he could build one, Ristalln found peace in this temporary tribute. As the sun cast across the sky, turning dawn into morning, those frail thoughts had cast their way in, despite his agenda to turn Forgas into a training ground in such little time.

  "You two slept out here again?" Merial squinted her eyes as she exited the tunnel, but still caught a vision of the Ristalln and Lornya in the middle of the field.

  "Ristalln doesn't like enclosed spaces." She said, removing herself from his side and facing the approaching Sage. "Neither of us do. We prefer the night sky and fresh air. I don't think you'll find us sleeping in those dusty tunnels even one night."

  "Aye. This way I can get a better idea of how to lay everything out as well," was Ristalln's response.

  Jeralyle had one of his own. "And have you done that?"

  “For the most part, I have.”

  Jeralyle allowed one glance around, then worked his hand into Merial’s. “And what would you have us do?”

  “If you could, can you bring me supplies by the entrance?”

  Merial, looking more eager than usual, bowed to him quickly, then tugged on Jeralyle’s hand, leading him back to the tunnel.

  After watching them leave, Ristalln cast one more glance around the field, to the training quarters he would eventually build. Seeing as he was the most experienced, he took it upon himself to design it, and it was a duty—for the first time in a long while—he took seriously.

  In front of him, the Knight had three hundred yards to work with, twice as much to his left and right, though half of it would never be used. Far to the left side, some two hundred yards out he had fenced off an area with iron pikes. It was only fifteen feet from east to west, but its length stretched over a hundred. It was to be the most time consuming of anything, for inside that rectangle Ristalln and those sent to help him would build a much-needed stable. Dwarves were not the kind to ride horses, but they were also waiting on Lanyan and the elves of Sharia. How many he knew not, but just as many dwarves he was hoping, and each would be on horseback. Stables were an imperative and their first priority.

  As were the horses to fill it.

  Roane's cavalry was over a hundred strong and Ristalln had to at least match that number to give them any sort of chance. He was counting on the elves to do so. The Knight planned to teach a lot of things over the next three months, but training dwarves to ride and command horses would take much longer than that.

  "What are you thinking about?" Lornya asked, sliding her arms around his waist, turning her face to stare at the very same field he looked at.

  He smiled, then pushed his arms around her shoulders. "Everything."

  "Don't hurt yourself."

  He didn't utter a retort, only dropped his hands to poke his fingers in the side of her ribs. She squirmed and fought, but refused to pull away. "Can we do this?"

  He went to answer but before he could, Merial and Jeralyle had worked in front of them, to place before their feet the supplies they gathered. A stack of burlap that went up to his knee, and more twine than he had ever seen, neatly separated into tight rolls. "We can, and we will." Ristalln smiled to Lornya.

  "What's this for?" Jeralyle asked, emptying his cradled arms of the two dozen balls of twine.

  "Targets.” Ristalln quipped, snatching a sack with his fingers. “We're going to fill them, then hang them up, so long as we find something to do that with."

  "That won't be a problem." Came a gentle voice behind them, and all turned, where they found Rhimaldez pushing across a mining cart overflowing with lumber. "This is only the first, but there's plenty more to be had."

  "Well found, Sir." Ristalln said, a genuine smile on his face. He had worried the time it would take to prepare would be a third of the three months allotted. As organized and motivated as everyone was, even in three days he realized it would take only half that. "Now we just need to find..."

  "Ely!" Merial grinned, seeing the young woman come through the tunnel.

  "Good morning, Mare. Everyone." She smiled though it seemed hollow, and held her hand up to block the sun.

  "Morning, Elryia." The Knight replied. "Did you sleep well?"

  "What little I got, yes."

  "That’s well, I suppose." He winked. "Did you think about what I asked you?"

  When Elryia returned, Ristalln asked for her to determine where each group member was best suited. She knew them better than he, and was aware of their proficiencies. Each would have to play a part in training the rest, and he left it up to El who would do which. "I have, actually. Non-stop since you've asked."

  "And?" He pried, a gentle grin in playing.

  "I think I've developed something suitable, if you'd like to discuss it."

  "Actually," Lornya began, her hand under one of Ristalln's arm, immediately the Knight had raised his other to invite her. "How about over breakfast?"

  She crossed and took the offered arm. "I would be delighted. Coming everyone?"

  Each followed, tucking themselves into a tight group before making their way up to the tunnel Elryia had just come through. For four mornings, Ristalln and Lornya had eaten with Javal inside his chambers; Elryia, Jeralyle, Merial and Rhimaldez for two, and it seemed today would be no different. It was a long walk to make, but the dwarven King was pleasant company and very generous when it came to sharing his bountiful feast.

  Once the six had traveled through and climbed up, Javal was waiting patiently for them, seemingly able to predict the group in only a short time. There he sat, at the head of the massive table Merial had once drank him under, now covered from end-to-end with fruits, nuts, bowls of eggs and platters stocked with strips of boar's meat. "My friends!" He hollered, standing from his seat to wave them over, refusing to take it until they were all comfortable. "Morning ta ya! I trust ya slept well!"

  "Very well, King. Thank you." Elryia said, perking the corners of her mouth.

  "And my mountain's treating the rest of ye fairly?" His answer came in nods from the group. "Good... good. The rest of yer group should be arriving any day now, aye?"

  "Hopefully." Ristalln responded, working around the bench.

  "With the mass of elves in tow" Javal looked almost disappointed. "Are we going ta have room for all of them?"

  "Outside, yes. Which is most likely where they'll want to sleep." Elryia stated.

  "Fair enough." Javal continued, eating as he did. "But there's places for them here, I just worry of their ponies."

  "We've determined something temporary for those, your Highness." Ristalln leaned forward from the end of the table.

  "Aye, I'll trust ya ta take care of them. Now as far as the man power I can lend ye." Everyone grew sharp. "Forgas is home ta around four hundred dwarves. It takes slightly over half that ta keep this place running, which means I can give the other to yer army."

  Elryia blinked, stunned for a moment. "Javal...I'm... I don't know what to say. I'm grateful beyond words."

  "Yer welcome, Lass. I'm happy ta help." He reached a massive hand across to place on her shoulder.

  Rhimaldez interjected "Javal, if I may ask you something?"

  "Aye?"

  "These members that you've offered. Is this required for them, or are you asking those that will join to volunteer?"
/>
  The King shook his head, the burly beard on his face swaying. "I don't force my dwarves ta do anything. Any that wish ta fight are being allowed, any that don't continue with their lives. I must say though, we have half the number filled already, so I don't think ye'll be lacking in those willing, and an eager lot they be."

  "That was the answer I was hoping for." Rhimaldez turned his eyes towards Elryia. "That was one thing Idimus or Gerin never learned. Forcing people to fight will garner very little of an effort out of them. It's one more thing to our advantage."

  Elryia nodded. "I was counting on that, as well as everyone doing their part to make sure they're trained properly. Which is what I wanted to address today." Elryia looked between Javal, Rhimaldez and Ristalln, making sure she had the attention of all three. "If we are going to meet Gerin's army on the field and win, then we have to match it. Idimus hasn't fought a legitimate war in over a century. His troops are not what they used to be, but they're still formidable—forced or not. They are nearly five-hundred strong, with almost a third of that devoted to a proficient cavalry. The rest are very seasoned foot solders, not to mention Estechian, Gerin and perhaps even Kalinies."

  "You need not worry about Kalinies, Elryia." Rhimaldez stated. "He will not fight in this war."

  Elryia noticeably frowned. "How can you be sure?"

  "Because I know him. I know Idimus. He has waited a long time for this war, and the closer the day draws, the more paranoid he's going to become. He's counting on this to establish his title permanently. But he's more worried that it will not. That he will lose. He fears that after the war, the victors will march straight onto Kaldus and rip him from his throne. On that day, he will be locked tighter in his sanctuary than ever before, with the only man he trusts at his side to protect him."

  El bit at her bottom lip. "It makes sense, but I know the Wizard as well, and he's incredibly crafty. He may not be there, but we need to prepare in case he is."

  "And the rest of them?"

  Elryia turned her soft eyes up to Rhimaldez. "It's all in who we are best matched against. Gerin, is the one I worry for most and Ristalln may be too busy leading the troops to engage in a single battle. So I look to you Dez... answer me honestly, can you defeat him?"

  "To say for sure, I cannot. There was only one I had faith in to defeat him, and that was the only one who ever did."

  "I see..." For a moment her gaze fell and lip trembled as she remembered him, but she turned up, stern and focused. "I will not ask you to, then. I promised Ramia I would keep you safe, and I intend on keeping that."

  "And I made a promise to you, that my skills and my very life were yours. I swear to you I will fight, even him, until my very last breath. I will not give up."

  "Nor I." Ristalln said, leaning forward.

  "None of us will." Added Lornya.

  Elryia flicked back a prideful tear as each reassured her of their devotion. "Good. Because I'm going to need all of you, both in the war and in the preparation for it. Each of you is crucial to our success."

  "We understand. What would you ask of us?" Ristalln perked, more excited than anything.

  "The cavalry is the most important, and among us the best rider is Lanyan. I will leave it up to him to teach any willing how to ride. When he returns I shall inform him. Merial, Jeralyle I need you to make sure that everyone stays motivated and healthy when training, and I need you to prepare for injuries on the battlefield. Gather your herbs, hone your healing. Gnert, if you have any other ingenious ideas like Lanyan's crossbow that will help us, I'd like you to start on them. Rhimaldez, your job is to teach everyone how to be a cohesive unit." The young woman turned her eyes to the end of the table where the Knight sat. "Ristalln?"

  "Aye?"

  "I need you to teach them how to use a sword, skillfully."

  "Aye. I can do that." Ristalln dipped his head solemnly.

  Lornya drew her flirting gaze away from Valliant. "And what would you like me to do, El?"

  "I want you to simply teach them. Tell them what the world was like before Idimus. Remind them of hope and why they're fighting. Inspire them."

  The Goddess flicked her a wink. "Consider it done."

  "And me, Lass?" The King asked in his usual over-zealous tone.

  Elryia reached across to place a hand on his forearm. "Just keep doing what you're doing. It's been more than enough already."

  "Gladly." He said, pushing his empty plate away.

  "And those dwarves you spoke of, can you gather them today?"

  "Aye."

  "Well. We have little time and we can't afford to waste any. Hopefully Lanyan will be here by tonight. Come tomorrow we will have enough to begin." Elryia stood, first giving a bow, but her hand waived as the others followed her up. "Please. Sit. Enjoy your breakfast. I am just going to get some air."

  "Are you sure?" Merial asked, looking skeptical, everyone else along with her.

  "Aye. We'll speak later."

  "Certainly." Merial bowed, all others gave her a wave or wink and Elryia stepped through the tunnel and into the morning. Behind, she left the companions almost in awe. On the inside of the cavern, each was impressed by her fortitude, intuitiveness and motivation. Yet on its outside, she could not share the same sentiment within herself. In her mind, no credit was taken. Elryia had simply organized this as she thought Grahamas would, done things as he had taught her. They were on their way to victory, yet if and when they did, if the people won their freedom, he would be the reason. His influence was felt, even now. She doubted it would ever fade. She held on to it, sometimes it being the only thing she could find strength in now that he was gone.

  "El!"

  The voice had yanked her back to reality, halting the woman before she made it to the ladder. The call had come from Rhimaldez, who moved out of the tunnel in a hurried pace, yet his eyes and his tone seemed incredibly calm. "Have you told anyone else of what happened on our return?"

  "You mean of the Tagh's? I have not." She responded quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

  "Nor I. I'm still trying to convince myself it happened. I've never seen anything like that in my life. You?"

  "Seen, no. Heard of... maybe."

  Rhimaldez’ expression grew. "Truly?"

  "Aye, only I believed it to be a myth, one Grahamas used to tell me when I was young."

  "What was it about?"

  "A Dragon." Elryia answered, gazing out across the sky as she recalled the memory.

  "Like that which brought Ramia to Davaina?"

  "No. This was about a Golden Dragon, a color that does not exist amongst them normally. But its power was beyond measure. The way Graham put it, "It was a dragon that moved so fast none could see it. One that's fire could not be protected from, claws that no material could withstand. A dragon who only appeared when the world was at its darkest, and in the deepest need for hope."

  "And you believe that is what we saw?"

  Elryia simply shrugged. "Stranger things have happened. It would make sense as to why it didn't attack us."

  Rhimaldez soured. "Perhaps, but that does nothing for my curiosity."

  "Nor mine."

  "By chance..." His face quirked, a strange idea the cause of it. "If we were to speak to it, could you imagine how beneficial that would be to have it on our side?"

  "I do, but time is not our ally, and I would not even begin to know where to search for it."

  Rhimaldez nodded. "Right. We should focus on what's in front of us.” He could see the anxiousness in her stance, and though they didn’t have much time, they had some. “We'll speak later."

  She winked and backed towards the ladder. "Certainly."

  He bowed, and made his way inside as Elryia made her way down. For at least half of her journey, she had thought about what Rhimaldez said, and a tiny flutter of hope entered her heart. But it faded. The ex-captain was right. Their focus would need to shine on what lay ahead. Things were now set in motion, but she knew they would not truly begin
until Lanyan returned.

  It was an event that would not actually happen until the middle of the night, when El was the only one left still awake. Everyone else was eager to cast away an afternoon bordering on chaotic. Shortly after their meal, Light had returned to the rear side of Forgas. Merial and Jeralyle had begun filling the burlap with grass they scrounged up from the ground, while Javal brought down each dwarf that had volunteered and would readily serve beside them. Since Ristalln felt out of place training them without Lanyan, he took a good portion—some fifty—and introduced them to the group, then discussed his plans for a stable and a basic structure of the area. The Knight was unfamiliar with their nature, and quite surprised at how quickly they took to actually building his design, half of them disappearing to find enough wood, the other half removing the pikes that Ristalln had put up to build a much more suitable—and measured—outline.

  By the time the sun had set, the stables already had the posts set that would hold the outer walls, every bag that had been found was filled leaving Rhimaldez with a sense of promise, seeing how organized the dwarves already were, and he had yet to teach them anything. It seemed like a good place to end the day, and most had. Yet for one—a darling blonde woman—sleep was unattainable. Her mind had latched onto what lay ahead, and every possible scenario rippled across her eyelids each time they closed. A mix of excitement and fear washed over her. She worried what would happen if they failed, how they would live their lives if they succeeded. And she could imagine the future for everyone she knew—Jeralyle and Merial, Lornya and Ristalln, Lanyan and Starrlana, Rhimaldez and Ramia. There was only one she could not envision: hers. Since the day that tragedy befell her, it had become impossible to picture anything, at least any image outside of the war. Yet she wondered if she wanted to see beyond it, for in it she knew the future would be without Grahamas and had yet to truly come to terms with that.

  "You look deep in thought."

  A voice jolted her back to reality and immediately on edge. As she replayed it in her head, the soft assured tone became one she recognized. "Lany!"

  "Hello, El." He whispered, stepping from the shadows so she could see him, and immediately he was embraced. "How was your journey?"

  At first she smiled. "Well, for the most,” and then quirked “but something quite strange occurred. Yours?"

  "Unfortunately, not as well, and perhaps just as strange." Lanyan whispered.

  El suddenly realized that she was only speaking to Lanyan. "Did you come alone?"

  "Not quite, but I did not travel with nearly as many as we first thought. Ely...” he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder “Rasonius reneged on us. He never had any intentions of helping us."

  "So what are we going to do?"

  "Some came with me out of loyalty, but not as many as I thought."

  "How... many?"

  "Shortly more than sixty."

  Elryia sighed, disappointed, but she tried not to let it show. "That's less than expected, but we'll make due. Where are they?"

  "About a hundred yards west, but gaining. I wanted to make sure everything was settled before I brought them over."

  "Aye. Javal's aware you're coming, and he's offered to let you stay in the mines."

  "Knowing them, they will most likely sleep out here." Lanyan’s eyes lightened slightly.

  Elryia chuckled. "I imagined as much." She turned to the west. "Sixty four, huh?"

  "Aye."

  "A talented sixty four?"

  "The best, actually." Lanyan saw El's emotions ease slightly. "Would you like to meet them?"

  Still seeing no inkling towards fatigue, she nodded. "So..." she began her walk with him. "You mentioned strange. What happened?"

  "On our way back, we discovered a corpse."

  Elryia thought nothing of it at first. Lanyan had seen his share of fallen bodies. That would that not cause him such bewilderment. From the look on his face, this one held significance, and a horrible thought now occurred to Elryia, one that enlisted her to grab Lanyan and force him into eye contact. "Lanyan... was" She swallowed hard, afraid to ask at all, but she had to know. "Was it Grahamas?"

  "By the Goddess, no.” Lanyan soothed. “I would have been more gentle in telling you had it been. This was a Tagh."

  Oddly, Elryia perked even more. "Where?"

  "Right outside of Sharia. I believe it was headed there."

  "This Tagh, did it have a seared slit in its chest, right over its heart?"

  Now it was Lanyan's turn to be quizzical. "How could you possibly have known that?"

  Elryia finally released her stern grip and re-started her walk west. "We saw the same thing when leaving Davaina. Well, not exactly. They were alive at first."

  "What happened?"

  "Honestly, Lanyan, I can't say. They were breathing one moment, charging us, then a golden flash and both lay there dead." She tucked her hand under his arm.

  "How..."

  "I couldn't say anymore than Rhimaldez, Merial or Jeralyle. Not one saw anything."

  "Don't you think we should find out?"

  Elryia shook her head. "I am more concerned of the Taghs. Rhimaldez said there's twelve total. That's only three we can account for. The other nine may still be out there."

  Lanyan turned his eyes towards the west, his group of elves now visible, with Gort and Sarahlya leading the way. "We can find out, if you like."

  "How?"

  "Amongst the group that came with me is an elf named Varalis, another—his wife—named Tanea. They're scouts. In all honesty, the best I know of. If you're looking for something, they'll find it."

  "I would not want to endanger them."

  Lanyan laughed. "Idimus hasn't been able to catch them in ten years. They can hold their own."

  Elryia nodded, feeling slightly better. But that was only how they were going to find them. What she wondered now was if they could kill them when they did. It was a question she would hold onto, until the gap between her and the oncoming group was closed.

  A brief introduction was made by Lanyan, first to Sarahlya then to Varalis, Tanea and several others. As he continued, Lanyan could see fatigue wearing on them all. Introductions were not required to be immediate. They had the next three months to do so. "This way everyone, we can talk more in the morning." Lanyan returned to his horse that Gort was holding, then held out his hand for Elryia to climb up with him.

  "How did everything fair, Gort?" The Dwarf answered with a bright, unexpected smile and an over-zealous nod of his head, then instantly turned back to Sarahlya. "Why is he smiling like that?" She whispered to Lanyan.

  "I'll tell you later." The Elf replied, hearing her grunt behind him, then felt her poke his ribs. "Ow. What?"

  "I don't like secrets." She giggled, but oddly left it alone.

  When the group arrived, Elryia directed them to the long line of logs stuck into the ground that framed the stables and the temporary line they could latch their horses to. Once settled, she made the offer to them—as she did Lanyan—to have them sleep in the caverns, but not one amongst them accepted. Each retired outside, a handful taking turn to stand guard. Even Elryia managed to shut her eyes for a few hours, far away from them all, alone with only her thoughts, each placed onto a single man.

  The sun rose earlier than any wanted, but all were treated to breakfast shortly after it had. Light's Awakening spent it again within Javal's chambers, while the King had organized for food to be brought out to everyone else.

  Elryia had used that time, now that Lanyan and Gort were among them, to discuss her overall plan. When she had finished with Lanyan, he seemed enthused and even honored that she had chosen him above all others to train the would-be riders, yet before she even focused on Gort, the Dwarf seemed disappointed.

  "What about me?" He muttered after her silence lasted long enough to make him believe she wouldn't continue.

  She perked. "What's that, Gort?"

  "Lanyan's training tha riders, Ristalln and Rhimaldez are training
tha soldiers. Everyone has a job except me."

  "I have a job for you, my dear Dwarf. You did na' let me finish." She replied with a beaming, taunting smile.

  The Dwarf expanded his chest. "Aye? Well what is it?"

  "I want you to teach them how to fight."

  "Ye've got tha other two doin' that." He huffed and crossed his arms.

  "Rhimaldez is teaching them to be a unit. Ristalln is teaching them how to use a sword. They need to be trained how to react when they don't have a weapon. They require aggression as well as skill on the battlefield. They need to know how to be resilient and fight on even without a blade. I want them to have a fire on the battlefield, no matter what. They need it, and only you can teach them, for that fire burns brightest within you. Can I count on you?" She held his gaze and planted both her palms on his shoulders.

  A smile flickered then faded. His expression lightened then darkened. Yet as much as Gort tried to hide it, his pride still threatened along his stern gaze. "Aye, I suppose I can do that."

  "My gratitude given, Gort."

  "Eh." He waived her off, burying his face in his food to hide his blushing cheeks.

  Elryia could depend on him, despite his stature, and that left her silent for the rest of their meal. When they had finished, they prepared to make their way to the camp for the fifth day, the same as usual. However, today, something was different.

  "Javal?" Merial perked, looking back to see the King behind them. "Headed somewhere?"

  Javal stood proud. "Aye. With ye. I'm part of this war, right?"

  "Certainly." The Sage dipped her head.

  "Well then I'm on ta learn as well. I figure ye may be able ta teach me something even I don't know."

  With a chuckle, she slowed, and allowed him to catch up, everyone else welcoming him into their tight circle. All except Lanyan who halted in the middle of the tunnel, holding his arm out to insinuate that Gort do the same.

  "What is it?" Gort looked at him confused.

  But Lan held off until everyone else was out of earshot. "Just curious... he's a much better fighter than he claims, isn't he?"

  "Javal? Oh, aye. Quite impressive actually. He fights better than he drinks, only he's not much of a bragger."

  "A modest dwarf... I never thought I would see such a thing." Lanyan blinked, then hustled on to catch all else, leaving behind a stammered, stuttering dwarf.

  "Eh..." Was all he could answer before following.

  Outside, along a series of ladders and an incredibly long tunnel, the Elf was at the training ground which would be his home for the next three months. He was able to see in the daylight what he had missed in the night.

  Almost nothing.

  Aside from the sixty-some elves and twice as many dwarves, there was little to look at, except the start of a stable and a dozen pikes holding burlap sacks far off to the south. It wasn't much, but he didn't need it. He had his elves and they had their horses. Right in front of him was everything he required to do his part. Inspired and well rested, he took the lead ahead of the group, eager to get started.

  "Everyone!" He hollered to the elves, most of whom were already mounted. Before he spoke again, he did the same to gain volume as well as their attention. "Elves are known for two things: bow skills and riding skills. With that in mind, it has been asked that we make up this army’s cavalry. We will be the first to attack and we need to endure the most. The next three months are going to be harder on us than anyone else. I'm going to make it that way, because I need you to be ready, for I expect and want every one of you to survive. If any of you are overwhelmed, or overburdened by this task, I ask you raise your hand now. I will not judge you in the least." But not one amongst them did; not a single hand raised. "Thank you. I expected no less out of any of you." He rode his horse in front of them, then turned it towards the south. "Let's get started."

  He bowed to the rest of the group and pulled the army along. Behind him, Rhimaldez stood next to Ristalln, with a very fitting question he wished to voice. "Is he going to train them all day?"

  "I believe so, yes."

  "Hmmm. Do you think it best that we come up with an agenda so that our time is spread out evenly with everyone, so each can benefit from what we have to teach?"

  Ristalln blinked, only to look disappointed. "Why didn't I think of that? It's a good idea."

  "I'll tell Elryia."

  Ristalln responded "Aye, and I'll separate the remaining group” then turned the other way.

  Once he had, it only took half an hour to establish the regiment, one that was followed the rest of the day. Lanyan spent the morning with Sharia's elves, teaching them the most basic—albeit—important of any technique: to be comfortable on a horse no matter the situation. He had forced them to speed up, then come to a jarring halt. He had ordered them to turn abruptly, and intentionally tried to spook their horses, asking them to maintain stature. For some it was easy, others it would be a long road; but Lanyan's morning was spent being productive.

  As was Rhimaldez'. Taking his dwarves all the way to the other side as not to be distracted or overheard. His task was not nearly as physical as the one Lanyan committed, but just as involved. He was the first to give out his name, making sure everyone heard it. One by one, thirty dwarves did the same. Once everyone had, Rhimaldez—without warning—blurted out his most guarded secret, that he released Perticus rather than ending his life as he had been ordered. Most were shocked, but he explained that communication is based on trust, silence based on fear. Once they had uttered their most restricted memory, that left nothing else for them to be fearful of sharing. That was the most quintessential idea for this group.

  Ristalln, with the group selected for him, found his place directly in the center. First making a line of the dwarves, then standing them in front of the loose wood left over from the stables. The Knight sifted through the massive pile, and one by one the dwarves were handed branches and broken planks suited to the size of the sword. Ristalln would use that—for now—as a way to teach them what Grahamas had taught Lanyan and the others; first to hold a sword, then to use it.

  Merial and Jeralyle kept each other company as they bundled rations, herbs and finished the remaining targets. Lornya and Elryia had made their way around to check on each group, and verify that none let the time slip away, while Gnert followed instinctively behind them, his wide, frantic eyes searching for the spark of an idea. One he may have found amongst the elves, as he stopped with them, even after the two ladies had left.

  Everyone took to their new duty quite easily, all except Gort. Though he swelled with pride, he now found it hard to take such things as aggression and ferocity and teach them to someone else. He knew it within himself, but he could not convince others to fight for his lost wife. Most never knew her. As the day wore on, it only became harder. Each new group forced him to start over when he had made very little progress with the last. When the day ended, the frustration that began was one that lingered, even when the sun threatened to leave them.

  As Javal did with breakfast, dinner was brought out to the soldiers and everyone—from dwarf to elf—met in the middle to eat. The members of Light's Awakening were invited back to the King's chambers, but they opted to mix in with the soldiers they were slowly getting to know. Using it as a way for them to bond, and for everyone to see that they were all equal. A reality that may take a while. Aside from Gort sitting near Lanyan and Sarahlya, the elves remained on one side, dwarves on another, each only speaking to their own kind. Seeing this, Lornya stood, the once incoherent chatter now silenced. First by the elves who stared then bowed out of respect for the Goddess they knew, then the dwarves, curious over the other side’s reaction.

  "For those of you who don't know who I am, or I have not been introduced to, my name is Lornya. Seemingly eons ago I was known throughout this world, not only by the elves, but dwarves and humans as well. It was a time where people actually knew the Gods and Goddesses that made and watched over the world. A time
where people learned of other legends aside from the ones that Idimus had created for them. When everyone was free to choose how they worshipped and how they lived. It is this freedom that we now seek, for us and for you. I know that you all have your own reasons for being here; be it loyalty, family, honor or you're simply looking for a good fight." Instinctively her eyes turned to Javal, then Ristalln, flicking the Knight a wink. "We, as well, have our reasons. Namely one, and we found it within a man named Grahamas. He gave us courage and inspired us all to fight for what we believed in; for freedom. A term he frequently used when asked why he fought so hard, why he never gave up and why he lived with such strength. If we could ask him now, why he gave his life, I believe his answer would have been just that—for freedom. Over time, I am sure you will come to know him as we did.” She focused first on Ristalln, Lanyan, Gort, Jeralyle and Merial then finally settled on Elryia. The young woman gazed at her only for a moment with soft, glistening eyes then bowed her head cordially. “He was…like no other man I’ve met. And I doubt I will find another like him. He was compassionate yet courageous. Inspiring, yet humble.” The once proud, powerful Goddess grew solemn—perhaps even sad. For a time, she appeared not as an immortal deity, but a human. As one of them. Those who did not know her prior now established a connection. Those who worshipped her now held her in a much higher regard.

  Silence lingered, the struggle of a loss far too painful evident on her face. She strained through her memories of Grahamas, trying desperately to recall and recite his words of wisdom but the angst overpowered her, so much that she risked losing herself to it. But a waning focus idly found its way to a valiant knight, one who seemed to be suffering as she. Yet amidst that, he found a way to smile at her, wink, then give her a reassuring nod—telling her that even if she were unable to continue he was still proud of her. She had tried.

  And that was all she needed.

  “I'm not asking any of you to be heroes, or even to live up to his legacy. I ask you not to be fearless, or to sacrifice all that you are for me. Instead, do so for yourselves. For those you love and those you have lost. Do it for your race. For your home and what you wish it to be. I ask for one thing, and hereby you have my oath that I will do the same. Fight." The Goddess extended her hand to Ristalln, a request of him to join her. When the golden-haired Knight had worked his way across the gap and into her embrace, she looked to the others. Lanyan, then Gort. Merial and Jeralyle. Gnert, even. Finally to Elryia and each came to surround her, El tucked at her right side, Ristalln on her left. Lornya managed to drag a soothing, compassionate hand down Elryia’s hair and held her tight before turning her attention back to the remaining group. “That, is all I ask of you. Get up. Stand up. And fight. With everything you have.”

  Though each stood, not one amongst them spoke; not one disagreed. Some bowed, others shook hands and several took a deep, prideful breath, allowing Lornya's words to set in. For a long time after, they remained—be it soldier or Awakening. They knew they had a very extensive, tumultuous road ahead. Yet after Lornya had finished, each remembered what it was they were here for, and each now willing to endure. To fight.

  For Freedom.

  Validation For The Aggrieved, Accolade For The Hero

  It had been almost a month since Carsis, Valaira and Estophicles had cast off from the shores of Arstigia. As it had been since first leaving, everything seemed to remain the same. The captain and crew were mindless. Valaira had spent most of her days tucked within the ship’s most lavish room. As usual, Estophicles was at her side, bending to her will. Yet she had also monopolized both members of the wait staff—a brother and sister who dressed accordingly to their title—as well as the tanned, mustached gentleman who served as the boat’s guest attendant. While others endured the hardships of the sea—storms, potential disease, starvation—Valaira sat in comfort, the crew waiting on her every minute.

  It was the type of behavior that led to certain mutiny, but no one ever got the chance to voice their opinion—or usually even had one. The only person who did being Carsis, and even he had grown too weary to object on Valaira’s behavior. He was too distracted trying to stem the tide of madness, driven there by 28 days of staring at nothing but ocean and sky. The only thing that broke up the monotony was an occasional cloud, a brief shift in weather or that ever-lasting dark line scraping the sky right in front of them. "The Rip" as Valaira had put it. One that as they drew closer seemed to fade, becoming more translucent like a shallow ray of black light, shining up from the horizon. As thin as it was now, Carsis could not imagine how they even saw it from as far back as they had been. Now it seemed only a matter of days before it was in their grasp.

   "Slow!”

  Valaira’s voice broke Carsis from his trance. He shifted to see her coming up out of the lower deck, cranking her head to order the Captain. All the while, Carsis tried to shake the fog from his mind, wondering how he had lost himself so that he did not realize how close they were.

  As the crew bustled around her to lower the sails, she moved swiftly to the bow. Once she reached Carsis, she locked her hand under his arm and guided him forward. “We’ve found it.” She whispered.

   No more than thirty feet away was the Rip, even more faded and dismal than ever, looking now like ash spewed into the sky, completely silent. All the while below it, there was nothing.

   "I don't see anything." He peered, his eyes tightening.

  "Look harder." She whispered, dragging him up further to stare along with her.

  Initially, he still did not find it, but at her request he gave a better effort. As they inched closer, his vision became clearer and lain across the top of the ocean was what had enthralled Valaira so. Simplicity. It was a patch of sand, fifteen feet in any direction, its color matching almost perfectly with the sea’s foam Carsis first mistook it as. He was not surprised that the island was devoid of any activity—be it life, or one single footprint. "Interesting..." was the only word he could find to describe it. "I would have sailed right past it had I not known."

  "So, so many have before." Her attention turned sharply. "To the left!" The captain, as mindless as he had been the past month, twisted the wheel. The ship lurched as it slowed, until it was crawling across the ocean. It took them several minutes before Valaira turned another scowl back to him. "Now, stop." Left to right, the crew dropped one anchor, then a second. The massive chains strained against the wooden holes, the entire boat creaking as though it would break apart. But when silence was left, it gave way to stillness and the crew waited patiently; mindlessly.

  "And how do you plan on getting down there?" With no pier and the ladder directly into deep waters, Carsis posed a decent quandary.

  "Pay attention." She smirked, stretching one leg to lead herself up to the rail, then crouched and leapt. It was only ten or fifteen feet to the ground, but it was not a jump Carsis would have made unless desperation called for it. From the look on Valaira's face, it had done just that. She landed hard, falling to her hands and knees with a grunt, then she was up in a second, turning towards the remaining two waiting on the boat. "Are you coming?"

  Estophicles was on the banister before she finished speaking. Carsis had to think about it. Yet seeing no other viable option, he followed the other man onto the tiny island, both landing in the same fashion as Valaira. Once he was no longer almost face down in the sand, he turned his cleared vision to the patch of land in front of him. One that was completely empty. "Where is it? Are you sure this is the right one?"

  "Positive." Valaira marked, moving her way to its middle, dropping to her knees once more to scrape her long fingers through the gravel. Whatever she was looking for she did not find right away, and the longer it dragged on, the faster her hand moved. "Where..." she began, but halted as her trembling ivory digits caught something, then dug frantically around it. "It's here." she whispered, revealing a wide, black stump buried deep below the surface.

  "I thought we were looking for a pillar." Carsis stated s
keptically.

  Her head turned back sharply, wafting her white hair away from her now scowling face. "Be patient." Then fixed one more glare upon the man before attending to her task, placing her palm on the cylinder she had just unearthed. "Sarnada, ecustow, forada!"

  As the last word was spoken, she pulled her hand away. A heart beat after, the tiny island around them rumbled beneath their feet, and the stump before them crept up, bits of sand cascading off the top as it rose. It started with only a few inches, then a foot extended out. It was silent and still, like a breath and oddly serene for the catastrophe that would follow. Valaira stepped back, her gaze following it as it leveled with her eyes, then beyond it, that last bit of sand tumbling off. She turned a sick, pleasured smile towards Carsis but he had held on the object—now twice as tell as he—before finally stopping its ascent. It seemed quite simple, at least to him. It was an ebony pole with gray streaks angled every direction, covering it from top to bottom. The only thing that stood out was the tiny indention only an inch or so deep right in the middle. "And now?" Carsis asked, taking a step closer.

  "And now, the Heart..." Valaira stated, reaching an empty hand out to Estophicles who obediently placed it into her waiting palm. "Carsis, hand on the pillar." She bade, working the gem into the pillar's pocket, then striding opposite the man to follow his movement. "Now, focus."

  The man agreed and bowed his head, shut his eyes in an attempt to concentrate. Though on what he did not know. With both Valaira's eyes closed, Estophicles was the only one to see the Heart flare—a purple light shimmering up from the lower end and rippling its way to the top. After that it faded. All was quiet.

  A silence that lasted for far too long. Carsis expected more, fire and destruction, the weeping of lost souls or foul creatures crawling out. He received none. Valaira the first to pry one eye open to see what had went wrong.

  "Was that it?" Estophicles asked, relaying to her the light he saw.

  "No...the pillar should have fallen, or cracked." Her fingers traced down it slowly, and it remained flawless. "This is the seal, and it should have broken. Done something... anything. Carsis..."

  But the man was not paying attention. In fact he could not even hear Valaira. He was so focused he had completely drowned her out, remaining with his head hung, eyes shut and hand latched to the post.

  "he...he... ha ha ha."

  "Was that a laugh?" Carsis jerked his lids open, and immediately turned them on Valaira. "What?"

  Valaira’s eyes hardened. "I said your name. I've been calling it for the last five minutes."

  "No... why did you laugh like that?" Carsis stuttered.

  "...I did not."

  "I swore I heard laughter. Almost like..." He whispered, pulling back slightly.

  "He he he."

  Carsis heard it again, this time behind him. "That. What is that?"

  Neither Valaira or Estophicles could hear it, and both exchanged confused looks with one another. "Are you mad?"

  "I'm sure it..."

  "Ha ha ha ha ha." Once more the laughter erupted, this time a much higher pitch as though it belonged to a child.

  When Carsis spun around to the direction it came, he found that very impression to be fact. "You were not here, before. Who are you?" First staring at the ground, a set of baby blue eyes locked, belonging to a girl with curly black hair draped over her shoulders, attired in an ebony button up dress with a white lace front and hem, a tiny purple bow bounding out from the collar. Her eyes were the first to raise, then the rest of her head. A paleness dominated both, lips that matched the shade of her dress. Her features were tiny and sharp, her cheeks thin, her jaw small, and her expression convulsed into a smile then snarl, only to revert back. She didn't say a word, nor move an inch, simply sat there, directly on the top of the water. "You... who are you?" Carsis asked, walking towards her.

  She giggled again, then folded her hands in her lap, finally speaking. "That is not the proper way to introduce yourself." Her head cocked crooked, her voice monotone and harsh, barely above a whisper. A grin formed, one of a fragile nature that projected innocence, but every time she spoke it was all too eerie. "It's good manners for you to go first."

  Carsis had forgot everything else around him, paying no attention to Valaira and Estophicles. He was drawn forward, his vision had closed in, tunneling until this little girl became his only focus. The brief idea that he was hallucinating entered, but he could not help but answer her, almost commanded by that voice that seemed so oddly familiar. "I'm Carsis. And you are?"

  Her mouth straightened but another chuckle exited. "Many call us Chaos, but our proper title is Lore. It's a pleasure met."

  Carsis bowed. It was as though he had no choice. "Where did you come from?"

  "From? We've been here all along... waiting." Lore stood, keeping her hands in front, taking a step back to lead her further into the ocean, feet touching but never breaking through.

  "Waiting for...?"

  She sighed. "You're not asking the right questions."

  "How so?"

  "Do not ask about Us. Such things are trivial for now."

  "Then what would you have me ask?" Carsis inquired, almost following her, but ceasing at the last moment.

  "Why, what it is that you want to know. What it is that will... help you." Her black lips crept up, but never parted again after she spoke.

  Carsis faced the pillar, letting out a curious gasp when he saw that both Valaira and Estophicles were completely still, frozen in time exactly where he left them—Valaira seemingly mid-sentence. "What happened to them?"

  The girl shook her head quickly and pouted. "That will not help you."

  "I... is this truly what Valaira sought?"

  "It is. The gate to Urvagh. Within it all dark souls that have perished, barring only a few."

  "Then what happened? Why did it not open? Is something missing, or wrong?"

  "Not...wrong. Valaira has the lock," Her pale blue eyes turned towards the pillar "and the key." Her gaze turned back to Carsis. "Only it no longer fits. Too much time has passed."

  "So then there is no hope to open it?"

  She giggled, dropping her hands to the side as her feet began to shuffle before moving, leading her in a joyful trot around the edge of the beach. "Any lock can be opened, even without a key. Tell me, Carsis Mortagh. How would you open a lock without a key?"

  "Destroy it?" Carsis pondered, face twisting in response.

  "Very good. We were wise in our choice."

  "Choice?"

  "Trivial, Carsis." With every step she made, Carsis followed her, utterly hypnotized, and he found himself searching for the right question, and how the "lock" could be destroyed. Initially, he thought that line of questioning foolish, but Lore stopped and turned a solemn look upon him. "No, you are right to think that." Then continued to skip.

  "How do I destroy it?"

  "Why, with the same thing that sealed it of course."

  "What is that?"

  Lore came to a sudden halt, her happiness ripped away with another childish pout. "We can't tell you everything. It would ruin your fun."

  "Fun? I've learned very little of Urvagh, certainly not enough to know what sealed it. I don't think anyone does."

  "One does." Blue eyes turned to Valaira and once Carsis had turned back to her, she seemed to grow bored incredibly quickly, as all children do. "Our time grows short. Please finish your thoughts."

  "How do you know all this? And who are you? You're incredibly well spoken for a child.”

  Lore turned to face him full on, but hung her head down to lay her blue eyes on the ocean she walked. "A child?" She whispered, the corners of her black lips perking up across her now shadowed face. "We are one of the oldest things in existence..” Then, all her motion stopped. Stared Carsis dead on. The expression no longer that of a child, but one showing evidence of her claim. Her head dipped, further shrouding her face, but those haunting, endless blue eyes shone through. Stayed locked. Car
ving into Carsis’ soul. And, somewhere deep inside it, he could feel something clawing its way out of a depth he never knew existed. “It’s time to wake up…our Child.”

  Without warning her head jerked up, and her face was no longer that of a flawless child but the corpse of one. Her skin even more pale than normal with a blue tint as though no blood coursed through it. Patches over her cheek and forehead had been torn from her skull, now hanging there, fluttering with the breeze. Here eyelids a dark red, her sockets sunk in and dirt covered her dress, soaked into her hair, as though she had been buried, and for a long time. She spoke to him one final time, it was no longer soft and charming, but a guttural, rumbling sound. "Break the seal, Carsis. Set us free." With the last word spoken, a light exited the still gapping mouth, the same in color as that which flared along the Heart and as the ribbon tied about her neck. It bled out her nostrils and her sunken eyes, reaching out to him like sharpened fingers, expanding and intensifying—so bright that he was forced to shield his vision, yet it pushed through his eyelids. Then, it was gone, as was the girl. When Carsis opened his eyes again, he found himself facing the pillar, his palm still placed on it, Valaira opposite him, as though he had never left. "What..." He blinked, trying to get his bearings. "What happened?"

  "Tch. Nothing." With a scoff and an obvious look of disappointment, Valaira pulled her hand away.

  Carsis was quick to do the same, now becoming frantic. "Was that even real?" He whispered, pushing away towards the ocean where she stood. His first thought was that the sun had finally taken its toll and burned his mind into madness, the unending sea had washed away his sanity. Yet along the shore, shimmering on the water's edge her image flickered, deep in his mind her giggle resonated. "Valaira... there's something I need to tell you." He turned back to her, but his curiosity overwhelmed him. "But first, a question. How was Urvagh sealed originally?"

  "Fate." Valaira said, stepping away from the pillar to approach him. "By a sword named Fate."