Nightfall (Book 1)

by L. R. Flint

  ~ ~ ~

  It was only early in the fifth day since leaving the wastelands that we finally made it to our destination. As we had traveled further into the fields, the grass slowly became shorter and near the Well it was only about knee-height. The group walked with me to the mouth of the Well, which in actuality was an ancient, stone encircled well. An almost overwhelming sense of pure magic washed over me like a breaking wave, as we neared the Well. I hauled the length of rope I carried from my pack and secured it around the base of the only tree in sight, which was a small one with pearly white blossoms covering each of its leafy branches. It was located only five feet from the Well, as if grounding daring adventurers had been its exact purpose.

  “Will just the one rope be long enough?” I asked.

  “One ought to get you there; if not you can come back for another,” Erramun replied.

  I walked to the well and was about to begin my descent with no more than a wave, but Eskarne walked over to me and gave me a hug. “I hope you make it back,” she said. I nodded, myself hoping that I would be amongst those who made the return trip. Izar followed the other girl and gave me a quick hug, telling me to say hello to our parents if I were to meet them.

  I said goodbye to everyone else and just before I descended again, Argiñe said, simply, “Good luck, Itzal Izotz.” I nodded. She knew better than anyone else what I might encounter. I lowered myself slowly down the rope until I was about halfway down its length, and I began to wonder if one rope had not been enough. I neared the end of the rope and was about to start back up, when a change came over everything around me; the walls of the Well, the lighting—which had been gone, except for a spark of light up at the entrance to the Well—and even the air, seemed to transform before me.

  The air all around me was diffused with light and a mist was spread throughout it. What had once been dirt walls, with roots from the plants above occasionally peeking through, was now a soft pearly stone which only existed behind me, though it spread far beyond sight to either side. The landscape was that of a peaceful countryside, with rolling hills covered in grass and the occasional blossom covered tree, though everything there was the color of starlight, or white, with all sorts of faint shades. The surroundings were shocking, though beautiful.

  The wave of magic I had felt at the mouth of the Well was as nothing when compared to the power in that land of mists, it took over me with such force that at first it seemed I was just going to be obliterated. The sudden attack caught me so greatly by surprise that I froze in shock, before my senses returned to me and I was able to fight to keep my soul within the bounds of my body. The tug at my spirit became so strong that I almost let go; I nearly lost hope of returning to my friends and those I cared about—as I began to think I would never have the chance to free my people from the tyranny of Zigor. There was a split second of darkness and pain when it felt as if my soul had been torn from me, but then a vision played before me, it was one I knew I had seen before—but when, I could not remember.

  Arrats, Eskarne, Izar, Erramun, Alaia, Mattin, Argiñe Bakar, Kepa, the four guards, and Koldobika, and Basajaun—the latter two shimmered, as if they had been scried—stood in the middle of a huge, lush, green field of knee-length grass: the Andoni Fields. The fourteen of them stood in companionable silence for a while; they were waiting for something, and I had no doubt that it was my return.

  Night fell over them but still they waited for me. The stars above them began to dance as if in joy, apparently having sensed what was going to happen. The stars kept creating pictures, though they moved from one scene to the next so fast that I had no time to catch any details. Light filled the vision as the sun lifted over the horizon and the stars left, still dancing and creating scenes too fast to be more than a bright, silvery blur.

  A figure meandered toward the crowd and from the group’s reactions I could tell that this being was what they were waiting for. My recollections ended with a snap as a quick memory of two elves, one my mother and the other my father, flashed across my vision; I fell to the ground, as if I had been held suspended in the air, and realized that the overwhelming tug of Lietha had ceased. I looked around and saw the landscape that was a part of Lietha, the land where magic existed as an actual thing, rather than just a thought or a hope, there it was something almost tangible.

  On a distant hill I could see a group of dark skinned beings walking away from me, headed toward a human sized, black fog. The warriors began running and then as they came into contact with the blackness, weapons of astonishing design appeared in their hands and they began to attack with a form special to their people. After a short while the black thing just vanished from existence and was gone, even from Lietha.

  Having absolutely no idea what I was supposed to be doing in the lands of Lietha, I trotted over to the warriors to see what was what. When the warriors noticed me they looked as if they were seeing things, as if I were an apparition. “Hello,” was the first thing that came from my mouth. In an instant the people had their weapons back out in the open, and their iron gazes were all trained on me.

  “Who art thou?” One of the people stepped forward, unlike the others he had so many—of what I guessed were—silver tattoos, that hardly any of his skin could be seen. He also had a white line drawn down the center of his forehead, from his hairline to the top of his upper lip.

  “I am Itzal Izotz, an elf from Baso Argi.”

  “There are no elves here, except for the dead, and thou art not of the dead—art thou?”

  I looked around at the other faces staring at me, ready to skewer me the moment their leader gave them the command. “I was sent by my people, they hope that by my journeying here I can come to defeat the tyrant ruling over our lands.” The leader glared at me and I felt that he was one whose looks actually could kill. “I came down the Well,” I said slowly, and quietly, almost haltingly.

  “Then through the Well thou shalt return,” he said, giving me a look I was sure meant I would never actually make it back.

  “No.” The simple word stopped the man as he reached out to grab my arm, and presumably haul me away, back to the Well. The warriors and I turned to see who had spoken. It was an old man with hair of starlight, and though he looked frail, he held himself with hidden power and regal pride. “I am one of the many you seek here, young man,” the old man said to me.

  “How do you know what I am here for?” I asked. “Even I do not know that.” The man smiled knowingly, and the group of warriors departed, knowing I was no longer under their watch.

  “I am one of the ancestors of a wizard who now walks the earth, one whom I believe you have come to know, his name is Koldobika.” I raised my brow in curiosity; it was a funny thought to me that Koldobika had ancestors and so, parents, which also meant that he had once been a child. “I have been watching you throughout your life, as many here have, hoping that you would make the right choices and grow up to be the man those living have prayed for, and that, blessedly, you have become.” I was unsure what to say, so I said nothing. “The purpose of your journey here has been completed in the fact that you are not just the spirit of your former self, but a solid being like the Guardians.” I wondered what the old man could mean, but he kept talking and I did not deign to interrupt him. “Though your task has been completed, I disbelieve you will be leaving just yet, for there are a few people I think you should meet.”

  Again my curiosity was piqued, but I said nothing more than to ask him whom he spoke of. “Them.” I looked along the line of the man’s outstretched hand, and before disappearing he said, “Send my greetings to Koldobika, will you? I am his great, great, great, great grandfather.” I nodded, looking quickly back at the man and then as he disappeared, I looked back in the direction he had indicated.

  Two elves and a white horse—though I quickly realized it was not actually a horse, but a unicorns—walked serenely across the fields of mist toward me. The proud beast trumpeted and reared, his rich mane flaring out around hi
s head, and then he came galloping toward me, the two elves also increased their speed as they took note of my presence.

  39 FAMILY

  A deep smile crossed my face, and tears crept from my eyes, as I hugged my mother for the first time in about fourteen years; I had nearly forgotten exactly how she looked, how much she and my father loved me, but every feeling and memory of them washed over me as a cleansing tide as my father joined my mother in wrapping his arms around me. I was startled to find that they were not solid as they appeared, but it was still comforting having them near. “Oh, Izotz,” my mother crooned. I did not care—for the first time in my life—that I was too old to be crooned to. I was so overwhelmed at seeing them again, that the bewitching thought of leaving my true life behind flitted through my mind.

  “Izar said to tell both of you hello if I were to meet you.” Eder smiled, and Nahia nodded her head faintly, as if they had seen everything play out at the entrance to Lietha. My father dropped his arms back to his sides and my mother held me out at arm’s length, stroking my face. "Can you actually feel me?"

  My mother laughed. “Yes. We simply are not as solid as you are. Oh how we have missed you—both you and Izar.” I nodded and shushed her to not say anything else, not wanting to look like a blubbering baby, which I knew I would if she said anything else about being separated from Izar and I for so long. I looked to my father, wishing he had been alive longer, and that he had been there for me to look up to as every other boy who had a father did. He just stood there for a while, searching my eyes, as I did his.

  He suddenly broke the silence and said, “You have made me proud, Izotz.” I nodded my head in gratitude of his words, forcing back the tears that fought to appear, a small smile turning my lips. A new smile also broke out on my father’s solemn face. It was then that the unicorn, seemingly short on time, interrupted the reunion and gave me a message which—of any mortals, I was the only one who could know and—I had to keep hidden, safely locked away in my memory. As soon as the magnificent being had granted the message, he galloped away across the countryside, like the wind across the waves, leaving in his wake swirling tendrils of mist and magic.

  My parents looked back at me from the receding form of the unicorn, thoughtful looks on both their faces. “It seems to me that your time here is to be short.” I hated hearing those words, but knew they were true; I nodded begrudgingly. “We will walk with you to the entrance to Lietha.” It was too quickly that we made our way to the Lietha Well, though the three of us walked as slowly as we could, without actually standing stock still.

  “At some point, when you have time and your sister is with you, scry us in the present,” my father said. “Though we are separated by the physical boundaries of two different worlds, it is possible to speak with one another through magic.” I promised that I would, and then I hugged them each again, wishing I could stay with them forever and that I could guiltlessly leave behind my life and the duties I was responsible for in the sunlit lands.

  “We have faith that you will triumph in the end, now go, and let your sister know that we love her as well. We love you,” my mother said.

  It was my father who gave the final parting words, “I am so sorry—that I was too weak to destroy Zigor when I knew it would have to happen, and when I had the chance—that by my lack of action I forced upon you this fate. However, I have great faith in your ability to conquer his evil and destroy it. Let the world know that you are unstoppable, let Markel—let Zigor—know that you are proud of who you are and that he has no power to destroy you. May Lietha speed you on your way, my son.” It was with those two last words ringing through my mind, that I grabbed ahold of the rope and pulled myself back to where my companions awaited my return. I would never forget a single moment of that time I spent with my parents, when I was reunited with them and came to know that I had become all that they had expected of me. I had not failed them, and that meant more to me than I could have imagined.

  The mists of Lietha disappeared into darkness and I returned to the old well in the heart of the Andoni Fields. I ran the words of my father through my mind again, as I hauled myself back over the rim of old, grey stones. My son.

  ~ ~ ~

  It was night again when I returned to my companions, and the stars danced crazily in the heavens above, it was a stranger sight than any I had ever seen before—more astounding even than the visions of the same scene. I walked straight to Izar and pulled her into a tight hug, whispering, only for her ears to hear, the words our parents had asked me to take to her. A single tear slid down my sister’s cheek and she quickly wiped it away. As she stepped away from me, every star in the heavens gathered to one central location, just over my head, and they funneled down in a spiral of perfect light.

  The funnel of starlight touched the ground just around me and everyone else moved away from it. The circle of light blended into one body, and held me suspended a number of feet above the ground—enveloped in the liquid silver depths. The light pulled my sword from its sheath and flew along the blade’s edge, leaving it sparkling with the stars’ light. A proud voice, the source of which I could not discern, commanded me, saying, “Go now and fight.” It did not occur to me then that it had not been said to ‘go now and win’, but those were the words I took to heart, not just to fight, but to win.

  Tendrils of the starlight ruffled through my hair and then slipped across my brow before the combined light of the stars lifted back from the ground and took flight up to the heavens, where each star took its respective place. The heavens seemed lifeless after the wild dancing I had seen. I looked down at the sword in my hand and raised it aloft. “Let us go back and reclaim our lands,” I cried and the blade glowed brightly with the light of the stars, before it slowly dimmed and returned to normal.

  ~ ~ ~

  The moment I returned to the haven, the Council was ready for another meeting and I was glad to find that that time, each of the companions that had gone with me were also requested to attend.

  “Now that Itzal Izotz has returned triumphant from his journey to the Lietha Well we are able to plan the next step in our defeat of Zigor,” Basajaun said, opening the Council’s meeting.

  “Wait,” I said quickly, before I was interrupting anyone else. “What was the purpose in my entering the Lietha Well? I met one of Koldobika’s ancestors, an old sage who claimed to know the reason, but I never had the chance to inquire further of him.” I guessed that the answer to my question was one that many of the Circle did not wish me to know, because they all looked on with solemn—and some, still distrusting—looks of silence. “You do realize that what I do not know could be just the thing that lets me fail?” My words rang through the silence of the clearing; some of the Council looked down in disgrace, while others let looks of open disapproval mar their faces.

  I nodded at Basajaun that he could continue, and he said that it was open for everyone to give out their ideas and opinions on the upcoming attack we would be planning. Argider stepped forward and announced the amount of time it would take for all of his legions to be assembled, that they were all ready to come at a moment’s notice, and that they were all prepared to do what they must for their people and their allies. The great centaur then stepped back, and left the moment to others who might speak.

  As the silence stretched out into minutes, Basajaun stepped forward. At the same moment Luken spoke up, and in a bored voice he asked, “Are we going to war, then?” The phoenix, Nekane, shrieked in obvious displeasure.

  “No. We cannot begin an open war just now, for the time being we must stick to subtler things.” The words came from Koldobika and I nodded in agreement with him, my reason, though, was that I preferred to try and kill Zigor without also having to risk the lives of those in the free armies.

  I took the cue from the wizard and stepped forward to announce my plan, the details of which I had already taken care of with those whom they concerned, so it was only a very few members of the Council who actually knew, o
r even guessed, what I was going to say. “If you do not mind,” I failed to add that if they did, it did not matter, “I have already made preparations to leave Baso Argi the day after tomorrow. With me will go my sister Izar, Basajaun, and a number of the others you see here, not including the Council. We leave for Caernadvall where I will fight Zigor and destroy his rumored hellhound.”

  “And what of the others who go with you?” Esti called out.

  “They are just there to make sure I come back alive.” A tantalizing smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I said those words, I was more than ready to finally be leaving to confront my enemy. The nymph gasped hysterically, and raised a hand to cover her mouth, though I did not see it because I was looking at Argider, who had given his consent to my idea as we walked toward that exact meeting.

  “What if this plan of yours fails?” Gurutze inquired.

  “Then I will come back and we will return with the destroying might of the armies gathered against Zigor.” The dwarf nodded in obvious pleasure and I knew that she was one who hoped I would fail, at least in the first attack of Zigor, so that she and her people could prove their prowess in battle.

  “It is decided,” Luken announced, and that time the phoenix gave a screech of pleasure at the gryphon’s words. I turned to leave the Council, and those who had come with me followed my lead. Basajaun caught the looks of many of the Circle and returned them with one of acknowledgment, as he strode to my side and laid a hand gently on my shoulder. I successfully tried to keep a smile from my face, which would have betrayed the elf’s pretense.

  Once we were out of the hearing range of the waiting Council, Basajaun stopped me and said, “I have to at least ask you to stay, for the sake of being able to say that I did so.” I nodded, then, to make it look as if I was sick of being asked the same question over and again, I folded my arms reproachfully across my chest and simply stated, “No.” Basajaun dipped his head in acknowledgment, a slight smile on his own face.