by Toni Cox
This was the end.
I did as you commanded, Midnight spoke into their minds. The heads of twenty Overlords lie in a heap close to the stones. Go. Finish your quest. Bring peace to this world.
Maia and Blaid closed their eyes. Lord Vlarden had not killed Midnight, for they felt the dragon’s soul within them. As he lay there, pretending to be dead, Midnight channelled all his energy into them, so they might use it to free themselves from the clutches of the magic-wielder.
Before the Vampyre could even open his mouth to proclaim his victory, they broke through the bonds that bound them, killing the slaves whose power sustained the spell.
Maia drew her Twin Blades, threw one of the blades at Lord Vlarden and sliced his head clean off. She ran, jumped from one Werewolf to the next before they could react, caught her blade, and then continued to wreak havoc with the remaining Vampyres in the area, Blaid right by her side.
It did not take them long to behead several important-looking pure-bloods, and then they made their way to Greystone. They now knew King Drakul had not, in fact, left Naylera; Lord Vlarden had said so himself. He was not at a faraway Gate; the plan was not lost.
The Vampyres wanted their planet; something the Elves were not prepared to give. No matter how many times Jagaer had tried, the Vampyres refused a trade agreement. Now, it was time to do things differently. Maia and Blaid had learned, had grown, had become One. They might not be the original twenty-two, but a pact would be made today.
The Vampyres were fundamentally different from Elves. Their way of thinking, their morals and ethics, their beliefs; it did not align with how the Elves lived their lives, thus the Elves could not comprehend the reasoning behind the Vampyres’ plans.
Maia and Blaid understood. They had seen into the minds of the Vampyres and knew what drove them, what was important to them.
When they entered Naylera through their Gate, they found the area deserted. The small camp Maia had seen last time she came through now spread out in all directions for miles as far as the eyes could see. About a mile to their left, a single Werewolf strolled through the camp, not paying them any attention.
“Where to from here?” Maia asked.
“King Drakul has his residence within a dormant volcano. From the glimpse I caught before I killed Drasden, it as an impressive and fortified structure. We head east for maybe fifty miles, or so. Urgh, this bag is heavy.”
With a flick of her wrist, Maia floated the bag they had stuffed the heads of the pure-blooded Vampyres into. Already, the bottom was soaked through with blood. Sooner or later, it would attract attention.
“Can you shadow travel with goods?” Maia asked.
“You mean this bag? Yes, I can, but what about you?”
“I have learned much about myself since last you tried to teach me. Just thinking about it, I feel something tingling through my veins. Shall we try?”
“Aye. Do you remember what I taught you? And, once you are ready, do not travel further than you can see, for we do not know where we are going. Let’s always agree on a point on the horizon before each jump.”
“I am ready,” Maia said.
“Then focus your energy. See that red rock a little to the left? That’s where we’ll go.”
Maia stared at the point Blaid had chosen, then closed her eyes and thought about the battle. She thought about those that had died; the injured; the look of cold rage on her daughter’s face; the despair when the warriors laid down their weapons. She could do this; for them.
She gasped for air as she stumbled and then landed painfully on her knees next to the red rock they had seen from a distance. Blaid grabbed her arm and helped her up.
“I did it,” Maia grinned.
“You did. Now, let us get this done. For our people.”
“For our people.”
They reached the volcano within five jumps. Maia cursed herself for not having learned this method of travelling sooner; they could have cut out so much travelling time along their journey.
Even the fortress within the volcano appeared deserted, but they took no chances and approached with caution. Within, they discovered several guards pacing the spacious courtyard. Gory frescoes decorated its inner walls and its blood-red flagstones added nothing to its charm.
A winding staircase, made from white, polished bone, led up to a second level, from which numerous archways led to spaces they could not see into.
“We may as well ask,” Maia said, and stepped forward into the courtyard. “Pardon,” she said in broken Nayleran, “we come to see King Drakul. Princess of Light. Prince of Darkness.”
To give power to her words, she gave them a display of fire, letting it zigzag wildly through the courtyard.
The eight Vampyre guards stared at them for a moment; weapons drawn and pointed towards them, and then they charged.
“You tried,” Blaid said, before dropping the bag and drawing his weapons.
Maia’s Twin Blades scraped gleefully as she unsheathed them and in the same motion beheaded the Vampyre coming in from the left. His rancid blood splattered her face, leaving a line of red pearls dotted across her forehead.
Blaid messily eviscerated the Vampyre to the right, discarding him with little regard. The taller one in the centre, however - the one with the stripes of rank along his chest plate - Blaid let live.
Painfully; but not seriously wounding him, Blaid put his knife to the Vampyre’s throat and moved forward into the courtyard.
“Now we see King Drakul?” Maia asked.
The General blinked in agreement. Blaid pushed him forward and the Vampyre stumbled, holding his bleeding injury.
While the others stepped out of the way with relief, the head of the guards led them up the bone staircase, through one of the archways, down several tunnels, up two more flights of stairs, and finally into a large hall. At the end of the hall stood a throne; obsidian and inlaid with skulls.
“Wait here,” the Vampyre commanded; his voice tinged with hatred.
Blaid dumped the bag with the heads in front of the throne, and resumed his position where the guard had left them.
As they waited, the hall filled. Lords and Ladies, dressed in finery such as Maia and Blaid had not seen any Vampyre wear before, came to watch the spectacle of the Elves within the throne room.
As the Vampyres stared at them, thus Maia and Blaid stared back, for they had never seen Vampyres as beautiful as these. They assumed they were direct descendants of the Purest of Pure; maybe children of Lord Drakul.
Maia and Blaid made a game of simultaneously concentrating on a single Vampyre at a time and making him or her feel either fear, or sadness, or paranoia, or depression. They did not enjoy such tactics, but they needed to let the crowd know their strength and what they were capable of.
“After all this fighting, so much death, you simply stroll in here to visit me,” King Drakul said with a near perfect Grildor accent as he took his seat upon his throne. “Who would have thought?” He clapped his hands; long, slender fingers. “Have you been offered refreshments?”
“We have not come for refreshments,” Blaid said.
“No? What have you come for, then? You are defeated, but I can offer you a life here with me. Take it and you shall be rewarded. All you need to do is use your power at my command. It is not such a bad life.”
“You underestimate the tenacity of Elves, King Drakul,” Maia said. “We are not here to surrender, but to tell you of your defeat.”
“Bah,” the king laughed.
“Lord Vlarden has lost his head. It is in the bag, along with several other Lords’ heads. You have no more magic in Grildor. By now, the last of your soldiers have been eaten by my dragon and our army is cleaning up the mess you made. There is a scale of a thousand dragons on its way to the other gates to assist them in their battles and they have authority from a Soul Dragon to pick up other wild dragons along the way to swell their numbers.”
“It cannot be,” Lord Drakul said, leaning
forward on his throne.
Maia waved her hand and the bag lifted, emptying its contents on the tiled floor of the throne room. The watching Lords and Ladies gasped at the gruesome sight of the severed heads, thereafter baring their fangs and licking their lips.
Shuddering, Maia stated, “Your war is lost, but we are here to offer you a treaty.”
The king gazed at them with suspicion. “Why would you offer me a treaty if you have already won the war? You are lying; you are here to deceive me. Guards, bind them, take them away.” He rose to his feet, angry.
The ten guards present in the hall ran towards them, but Blaid halted their progress with some of Midnight’s stored energy, crushing them on the spot. They crumpled to the floor, jagged bones sticking out of their armour and dark blood slowly spreading, staining the Ladies’ shoes.
“We offer you this treaty so you will not attack in the future. We want to live in peace, not in fear you might attack again. You know what we are capable of,” Maia said, tilting her head sideways, smiling at King Drakul, and slowly increasing the air pressure around his head, and everyone else present in the room, until they screamed. She released them. “We do not want a reason to come back to Naylera, and we do not want you to have a reason to come back to Elveron, unless it is for trade.”
“So,” Blaid continued, “we have come up with a trade agreement we think even you could accept. You may think your planet is barren and there is nothing of worth left on it, but we disagree.”
“‘ow do you know vat I think?” King Drakul shouted, losing his composure and his perfect accent. “My vorld is dying. Years ve ‘ave struggled. No more.”
King Drakul flew at them, teeth bared. Maia and Blaid put up their defences, but the ancient Vampyres was stronger than anything they had ever fought. Before they could draw their weapons, he was upon them, knocking them to the floor.
“I am thee oldest. Thee strongest,” Drakul hissed, pinning them to the floor, while all around the Lords and Ladies cheered, fangs bared. “My children feed me. I cannot die.” He laughed manically. “Now, it is time for you to die, for I am stronger than your light and your darkness combined.”
King Drakul’s yellow nails dug into their flesh, drawing blood. Sticky saliva dripped off his fangs as he bent towards them, but, instead of fighting, Maia and Blaid closed their eyes.
Light and darkness combined instantly. As their souls merged, their bright silver and dark silver lights shone forth throughout the hall, not only blinding, but also singeing the skin of the Vampyres present.
Lord Drakul released them, shrieking in agony. Screams soon filled the hall; most fleeing, some falling to the floor, too feeble to even crawl away.
“Stop. Stop! I listen.”
Gradually, Maia and Blaid allowed the magic of Life and Death to fade.
Still shaken from the terrible display of absolute force, King Drakul sat back down on his throne.
“Vat do you propose?”
The first thing Midnight saw as they stepped out the circle of stones was their One soul separate into two. He could not see them when they were One and it irked him. He lifted his head and shook the fresh snow from his face.
Maia looked around in wonder, holding on tightly to Blaid’s warm hand. When they left, the sky had been overcast, with roiling clouds. The ground had been a soggy mess of melted snow, mud, blood, and gore. Dead bodies strewn as far as the eye could see.
Now, a blue sky and sunshine greeted them as they stepped through the stones out onto the plain. Fresh snowfall covered the ground, hiding the ugly red quagmire underneath. They saw no lumps of any kind and knew the dead had been cleared.
Fury bounced around them excitedly, dangerous in his exuberance, until Midnight’s rumble settled the Fire Dragon and they could all greet each other.
How long have we been away? Maia asked.
Eleven days.
It is meant to be, Maia, Blaid said. We battled the storm for eleven days and we battled the king for eleven days. It is our sacred number.
How fare the others? she asked.
They felt Midnight’s glee before he answered. The magic left the battlefield after you killed the evil one. As you said it would. The warriors took up their weapons and fought again. As you said they would. I ate all the Werewolves. As you said I could. Not take long, Bright-Shining-Silver-Star. The shining people burn brightly when they are angry. As you said they would.
Maia smiled. They took a chance leaving them to fend for themselves, but it had been worth it. She had known her people would rally around Midnight if he asked them to. Her plan had worked.
Now, all she wanted to do was go home. She was tired of war, tired of fighting. They had lost so much; now she wanted to enjoy what they had left.
Maia and Blaid mounted their dragons and took off, flying low over the fields towards Shadow Hall. They landed on the southern side of the Silver Forest; The Crags still crowded with Siana’s War Dragons and some of the Battle Dragons from Thala Yll.
As they made their way along The Axis, they heard music and singing coming from several houses they passed; a sound they had not heard in a while. The lake next to the Gathering Grounds still lay frozen, yet the Gathering Grounds glowed brightly with multi-coloured lights and the light from a bonfire at its centre.
Dressed in coats and heavy outer garment, the people sang and danced to the music played by the orchestra seated on the stage, surrounded by travel stoves to keep them warm. Maia knew this celebration to be a combination of joy and mourning, for although they had won the war, they had also lost so many lives.
“Maia, my child,” Malyn called, running over to draw Maia into her arms.
“Thank you, Blaid, for bringing her back to us,” Jagaer said to Blaid, clasping arms with him.
“It was my honour, My Lord.”
Jagaer nodded seriously at Blaid, before turning to Maia and taking her in his arms. Soon, everyone had learned of their arrival and everyone wanted to greet them and to hear their story. Maia was only too happy to see them all; her grandparents, Jaik and Siya, Aaron and Rothea, Jasmin and Archer, Silas and Becci, Lunar and Wolf, and Luke and Siana.
Luke and Siana? At first, Maia thought they happened to be standing next to each other when they came over to greet her, but by their Eläm she could clearly see there was more to it than coincidence. She was happy for them.
Some people would never be able to greet her again; Lord Elderbow, Commander Hollowdale, Filithrin Overmer, Yolanden, and so many others. Siana and Blaid comforted each other; dealing with their father’s death in their own way.
Some time during the festivities, Lilith trotted through the Gathering Grounds, followed closely by Fire, and then by two huffing Horse Masters. They apologised profusely at the interruption, and then carried on after the horses. Maia and Blaid smiled indulgently, both aware Lilith would carry Fire’s foal before the night was through.
When the music stopped and a gong sounded, everyone looked towards the stage. Jagaer and Silas stood upon it, waiting for the crowd to fall silent.
“We have endured much hardship over the past few years; lost friends; loved ones. It is time that we remember what is good in our lives and celebrate that which matters most. My daughter brings tidings that the Naylerans have agreed to the trade agreement. In exchange for Elveron’s assistance with food, leather, livestock and plant life, Naylera will provide us with diamonds, oil, obsidian, hauyne, gold, hematite, and various other metals and minerals found in volcanoes.”
The crowd cheered at Jagaer’s proclamation.
“But it be the matters of the heart that see us through the dark times. If the war has taught us anything, it is that there is no such time as the present. Live now. Make the most of every day of your life. So listen closely, for I have announcements to make.”
A hush fell over the crowd, and even Maia held her breath.
“Spring is only another three Moons hence. Prepare yourselves, for there be weddings.”
; The crowd cheered and yelled, “Who be wed?”
“I will be my honour to bind in marriage my son, Jaik Longshadow, and Lady Siya Sparrow of Braérn. Furthermore, I am honoured to announce the wedding of Archer Fairwen to Jasmin Nightingale. And, another of our Human’s has found love. Aaron Nightingale is to wed Rothea Goodheart.”
The couples mention grinned from ear to ear as the crowed cheered and clapped, making it impossible for Jagaer to continue speaking. Maia and Blaid hugged them all, congratulating them.
“There are other matters I would like to discuss,” Jagaer continued once the crowed settled down. “I thought to do this privately, but decided to speak publicly, for I want you all to know that even a king can be wrong sometimes.”
The people of Shadow Hall looked up at Jagaer with serious faces at his statement, wondering what was to come.
“For years I have been presumptuous in my opinion about the Death Elemental in our midst.”
Everyone looked at Blaid.
Jagaer went on. “In my mind, I had formed an opinion and I would listen to no other reasoning, banishing the Elemental and everything he stood for. Yet, time and again, he proved himself, standing by not only Maia, but by our country. In the end, he paid the ultimate price, the death of his father, to save us all. Blaid, please forgive me. I have been ignorant and foolish. Maia, the old ways do not apply here. You two have proven to me, to everyone, you belong together. That which the Mother has deemed to be together, no Elf shall pull apart. Silas.”
Jagaer stepped back and let Silas carry on speaking.
“In light of everything you have done for us, Blaid, we would like to make you an honorary member of the Longshadow Clan. If you accept, I shall speak for you; even I had my reservations, thinking you meant my Maia ill. I have struggled to accept your ways, but I have seen the error of my ways and there is no one else I would rather speak for than you. Do you accept, Blaid Elderbow, son of Blain Elderbow, first prince of Elbendal?”
Maia squeezed Blaid’s hand, shaking with excitement. For both her father and Silas to admit their error in front of the entire clan meant immense courage, but what this symbolised for Blaid was beyond measure. For Silas to be the one to speak for him was even more astounding.
