by Steve McHugh
Mordred thanked her and returned to his seat.
“How are you here? I saw you on the TV screen. I saw you as captives.”
“We were prisoners for several days,” Ivy explained. “Until we told Kay what he wanted to know. I assume you’re aware of Kay’s involvement?”
“Yeah, it came up,” I told her. “Kay and I are going to have words when we next meet.”
“Then you know that Kay was the one behind our kidnapping,” Grace said. “He wanted to know where you’d be at certain times. Once he realized you’d managed to escape the trap in London, he sent us to this realm, to be kept quiet by the blood elves, but Zamek and his dwarven warriors ambushed the patrol and brought us here.”
“Okay, I now have more questions about everything that has happened in the last few days than I’m comfortable with.”
“All will be explained in time,” Cassandra told me. “First, I believe Jinayca needs to explain things.”
CHAPTER 25
The trouble started four thousand years ago,” Jinayca began, “and it began with the elves. The elves were originally very much against cooperating with other species. They were insular, distrustful. They were powerful sorcerers, and despite many pantheons coming to their door to try and forge an alliance, they refused.
“That changed over time. A contingent of elves thought that keeping to themselves was only going to hurt the species as a whole—at least in the long run. Those who wished to integrate with other species petitioned their elders to grant an alliance with the Norse gods and ourselves. The elven elders refused to allow any kind of integration with other species, and those who had requested it were imprisoned for their beliefs. The elven civil war started then. Two sides: the sun elves, who wanted to be left alone, to have no outside contact, versus the shadow elves, who wanted to engage with other nations, with other species. They wanted to share what they’d learned.”
“I assume it didn’t work out well,” Remy said.
“No. The war lasted for a thousand years, with countless dead, and countless more leaving the elven realms and vowing never to return. But in the end, the sun elves were the victors. Most shadow elves fled into various realms, splitting up to avoid capture, but those the sun elves managed to take were brought to us.”
“A mistake that cost us dearly,” Zamek said.
Jinayca placed her hand on the dwarven warrior’s forearm. “Yes. You see, we were in the process of creating a new weapon: spirit scrolls. Scrolls imbued with the spirits from another realm. You are aware of Pandora, yes? The girl who had a demon from a spirit realm forced into her? This was a similar idea, but the demon would be placed into the scroll, granting the user incredible, but hopefully controllable, powers.”
A horrible thought dawned on me. “Bet that worked well.”
“No, not exactly,” Jinayca admitted. “There was a catch—several. Firstly, as a security precaution, only humans could activate a scroll. Humans were rare in the realms at the time, and it was thought that they would be a good method to ensure that there were no problems with any extra powers or abilities the nonhumans might have.”
“Humans were the control part of the experiment,” I said, managing not to call anyone bad names for their stupidity.
Jinayca nodded. “In hindsight, it wasn’t the best idea, but we didn’t want to allow these spirits to bond with sorcerers or anything more powerful, so humans were a good test subject. Although, I’d like to stress that the only humans involved were ones who volunteered. We didn’t force anyone to do anything.”
“You sure that everyone was as nice about it as you?” Mordred asked, a doubt in his tone.
“No. That I can’t say. I can only attest for what I was aware of.” Jinayca appeared to be troubled by the idea that not all of the humans were as willing as she’d suggested. It was probably something she’d thought about a lot over the centuries. “Secondly, the price for a person bonding with the scroll is that the spirit of its user will remain with the scroll after their death. It was done so that new users could gain the knowledge and power of those who had activated the same scroll. It meant that if someone was the fifth to activate the scroll, they would have four spirits to guide them through the process, share their strength, speed, and the like. It made those who bonded with the scroll, after several others had already used it, considerably more powerful.
“Apart from increasing various attributes of the user, each scroll also imbued the user with one unique power. William’s was to become that abomination. But others can control the weather, or turn to water, or manipulate metal itself. Each one is different. Each power is personalized for the user.”
“All sounds nice so far,” Diane said. “But I fought Pandora. I know there has to be a bigger catch to all of this.”
“The biggest catch was the demon inside the scroll. When the user first bonds, the demon isn’t in control; that aspect is completely successful. Unfortunately, over time, the user had to accept all of the spirits within the scroll to have access to the full power the scroll could bestow. That means they had to accept the demon.”
“What do you mean ‘accept?’” I asked.
“The user of the scroll has to accept their transformation completely, the power they would have access to, and the spirits within the scroll. They can’t pick and choose; it’s all or nothing. The demon begins locked in a mental cage inside the user’s mind, but the user has to unlock it and accept the demon within. If they don’t, if they resist taking any of the spirits or the demon into themselves, the demon will gain more and more power and influence over the scroll-user, eventually turning them insane.
“Even water dropping onto stone eventually wears it down. And the demon is relentless. It might take days or months, and it’s completely dependent on the user’s current mental state, but the more emotional or mentally fragile they are, the quicker the demon takes control.”
“What happens once the demon takes control?” Kasey asked.
“In a normal situation, where the user has accepted the demon, the demon is still there, but it’s no longer capable of taking control using normal means.”
“It can huff and puff, but never blow the house down?” Remy asked.
“If you mean that when its power isn’t in use, it can say what it likes and can be ignored, then yes, you’re correct. Once the spirits and demon have been accepted as part of the user, they can tap into that extra power the demon offers, allowing the demon to essentially become a vast dam of energy inside of them. But when the demon and human minds merge, when the demon takes control, the user loses whatever conscience they once had. They’ll kill for fun, for sport, or just because. We didn’t discover this until it was too late, and people died because of our mistake.”
“What does ‘normal’ mean?” I asked.
“Those who accept the demon can use its power, as I said. But use too much, or allow your emotions to control your use, and the person will become a demon-human hybrid. In this guise, the demon is much closer to the surface of the human’s personality. Essentially, it’s the only time an accepted demon is a real threat.”
“So, the human always has to be on their toes, just in case?” I said. As far as news went, it wasn’t brilliant, but it wasn’t a death sentence either.
“So why don’t the users just accept the demon?” Diane asked.
“I wish it were so simple. The demons are darkness personified. You can tell someone over and over to just accept the darkness, but how many do you think really want to? How many people really believe that they won’t be changed by that acceptance? It takes a strong mind to blindly accept something as fact. And when we tell someone to accept it, and then a demon, a creature of power and malevolence tells them the same, they doubt themselves.”
“The demon wants out? Why?” I asked. “Surely it’s better for it if the demon stays locked away, driving the person insane so it can be freed to kill.”
“Whether the demon merges or not, it can never b
e truly free. It will forever be part of the human: two souls locked together until the human dies. It’s not much of a life. But a demon that manages to crack the user’s psyche and drive them insane has a big chance of taking control of that person. If the demon is accepted, it’s no longer caged, but its power is limited. A demon not accepted just begins to take over the user’s mind in total. Either way, the user is in danger of the demon controlling their mind and body.”
“You merged a human and a demon, and it all went terribly wrong,” Nabu snapped. “Not exactly a shock to anyone else here.”
“What do these scrolls have to do with the blood elves?” I asked. “I assume the blood elves and shadow elves are the same thing?”
Jinayca nodded sadly. “After the war, the prisoners were brought here. Their captors decided to banish them from the other elf realms instead of executing them en masse. We agreed to allow the shadow elves to live here, providing they would mine the crystals in the lower parts of the mountain. They’d be allowed to live in peace, to do as they wished, but in exchange they’d have to work for it.”
“Why the crystals?” Diane asked.
“The elves are immune to the crystallized magic,” Zamek said. “Dwarves get tired and sick after a few weeks being around them. It’s why we use them only in forging; it’s safer.”
“I assume that immunity didn’t work out too well,” Morgan snapped.
“No. It did the exact opposite,” Jinayca admitted. “It took hundreds of years for the crystals to corrupt the shadow elves into those beings you see out there. Hundreds of years where many of them lived beside us, forming friendships, forming bonds. All the while they were reaching out to our enemies and forming an alliance with them. It only took one week for them to rise up and attack us when we were at our lowest point.”
“What does that mean?” Nabu asked.
“Our king was assassinated, and Mordred was framed for it. He was a newcomer in the realm and a natural target for suspicious activities. We discovered Mordred’s innocence too late, and by then, the dwarves who had betrayed us to the blood elves had already put their plan into motion. Thousands were slaughtered in that first hour as the outer parts of the city of Thorem were taken. Tens of thousands died within the first week. It took two weeks for us to mobilize and arrange a counter-attack.
“Our people fled through the few realm gates we have here. A few stayed behind to destroy them so that the blood elves couldn’t follow. Unfortunately, we don’t believe the gates were completely destroyed. At least one, inside the citadel, still remains. Hundreds of thousands fled from this mountain over the course of a few days. The citadel was under siege within days, and many tried to keep it from falling into elven hands. But as the last of our kind escaped, the citadel was overrun, and those inside were forced to flee.
“Fortunately, the guardians managed to flee through the realm gates, taking their links to the world our dwarven kin had fled to. Dwarven guardians are not like those in other realms, where a guardian away from a gate becomes mortal, but otherwise there are no changes. Dwarven guardians have their lifeblood linked to the gates, and time away from them leads them all to die within a few years.
“Those of us who escaped that slaughter were supposed to destroy the library. We decided to build Sanctuary instead, and bring with us what we could so we could find a way to stop the blood elves.”
“Why not just burn the library and leave?” Irkalla asked.
“If that realm gate is still operational, then destroying the library means destroying the possibility of ever finding information on how to get it working again, on ever getting free, or having our people return home.”
“I fought those blood elves,” Zamek said. “I stayed behind in that citadel because it was my duty to do so, and I fled rather than die there. I feel no shame for fleeing. I helped many to escape, but I swore that one day I would get back there and finish the job—that I would help our people come home. Destroying the library: that would feel like we were destroying a part of ourselves, of who we were. I’m not sure we can do that.”
“Okay, so what can you tell us about the spirit scrolls?” Remy asked.
“They can’t be burned, or torn, or broken,” Zamek began. “They’re immune to magic, too. Which means that even if we’d burned the whole place down, those scrolls would still be there, still available for the blood elves to find. It’s another reason for keeping the library intact, and it’s also why we need to bring them here.”
“How do you tell which scrolls are spirit ones, and which one’s aren’t?” I asked.
Jinayca answered this one. “The spirit scrolls have markings on the outside of them. It’s the dwarven word for spirit, which is a bit of a giveaway, but we had no idea we were ever going to be in this situation.”
“How many spirit scrolls have you found since the elves attacked?” Remy asked.
“None,” Zamek admitted. “The blood elves managed to ransack the place shortly after arriving and took any spirit scrolls that were outside of a secure location.”
“I thought you’d stopped working on them?” Irkalla asked. She’d been quiet ever since she’d arrived. “Why not put them all in a secure location?”
“The dwarves who were working on them were trying to find a way to dismantle the scrolls. Most of them only had the demon attached as they’d never been used.”
“Wait, didn’t you say that only humans can use these? Why would the blood elves give the spirit scrolls to humans? Wouldn’t they be somewhat concerned about a really powerful human running around?” Kasey asked, making a good point.
“From what we understand, most of the humans they use are like William: willing participants for their masters. Any humans sent here are usually hunted, or tested in rune-marked rooms—similar to what we did when we first started creating them.”
“How many scrolls do the blood elves have?” I asked.
“Not all of them,” Jinayca said. “Several hundred at last guess. We used to go to the library every few months, but the last trip was several years ago, when a contingent of dwarves went there to look in the rooms we hadn’t charted. The library is massive. Several floors, millions of scrolls, hundreds of rooms. You couldn’t search it all in a human lifetime.”
“These people are still there, yes?” Nabu asked.
“Yes,” Jinayca said. “We know some are alive. They were all rune-scribed before they went; we do this for all of our warriors. The runes work as tracking beacons. We can monitor vitals and locations from here. Of the dwarves who went only a few survived.” Jinayca unfurled a scroll on the table, which contained some sort of map. There were several dark dots on it, moving slowly around. “This is one of a hundred maps for the library. This shows that they’re in the southern, highest tip. It’s assumed they banded there because of what happened below.”
Zamek lifted his tunic to reveal a mark on his stomach. “Their marks are still working. We just can’t get to them.”
“What happened below?” several people asked at once.
“The blood elves attacked en masse,” Zamek explained. “Thousands of them, all led by a hooded figure. One dwarf from the group was sent back to warn us of their advancement.”
“Great, a hooded figure,” Remy mocked. “That’s not fucking ominous or anything.”
I looked over at Mordred and wondered if he’d encountered anyone like that while he was here. A hooded figure leading the blood elves could be anyone. Hell, it could just be another blood elf, but I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of having someone leading unknown thousands of raving psychopaths hell-bent on the destruction of everything that wasn’t them.
“The elves are in the lower levels and have taken control of what used to be the scholars and elders housing,” Jinayca continued, ignoring Remy’s outburst. “A small group can bypass them.”
“Why haven’t you done it?” I asked. My words were slightly harsher than I’d intended. Frankly, the whole thing made me feel angry that a
ny group of people could have been so blinded and insular to not see what was happening to them. But that was then, and the now was more important. We needed to help the dwarves to help Chloe, although even if Chloe wasn’t hurt, I’d have still offered to help. When someone takes you into their home instead of letting you die, then asks for help, it’s usually a good idea to do it. So long as it’s not a suicide run: then it’s usually a good idea to leave. I hadn’t decided how suicidal going up against thousands of blood elves was going to be. Probably very.
“The elders will not allow a big enough troop of dwarves to go. We estimate that it would need most of our warriors to retake the lower levels, but a smaller group could get there.”
“By smaller group, you mean us,” I said.
“Not all of you,” Zamek stated. “Three or four of you, and me and my warriors. The elders don’t care if we die, but I couldn’t do this alone. I won’t die for nothing.”
“You were part of the royal family,” Mordred said, completely changing the subject. “It’s not a question.”
“I was in line to the throne, yes. It’s why I have a surname. Only those in positions of power have one, like royalty, or the elders. But that’s a moot point now. I gave up that right the second the throne was taken from us. I keep the surname to honor my family, but I’d rather die with my people than tower over them.”
A thought occurred to me. “Is that why you and that dwarf argued? The one when we first arrived?”
“Several of the elders expect me to overthrow them the second I get the chance. They’d really like me dead.”
Jinayca looked shocked. “That’s not true.”
“Don’t. We both know that there are dwarves here who would have been much happier if I’d never made it back. I’m not royalty anymore, but our people have long memories, and most here remember me from when I helped lead the defense of the citadel.”
“So, your plan is to have us get into the library, find these people, find the scrolls, and get back here?” I asked, making sure I was up-to-date with the insanity.
