Caedmon glared in disapproval at the prince, then addressed Faolan. “No, let me hear what you have to say.”
Faolan’s eyes scanned his audience, then he said again, “Two, three, five, the opposite they shall arise. It is a phrase an old man said as we were leaving Lesley. It was oddly similar to what you just stated, but his speech was broken and hard to understand. And he said two.”
The old wolf thought for a moment and became curious about if there was a variant. “I will have to consult the prophecies and research any validity to the man’s words. If you see him again, make sure to point him out.”
Faolan nodded. “Of course, though I suppose he could have just been rambling madness.”
“Possible,” Caedmon said.
“Definitely,” Treasach chimed in. “No sane man talks like that.”
“Aye,” Bayne agreed, as he stared at the fire.
A pause in the conversation persisted for a few minutes.
“Very well, are there any more questions?” Caedmon asked.
“Yes, returning to the previous topic, why does the Ikalreev spell only target the First Seal?” Gavina asked. “Why not try to stop the second or third from opening, if you fail to stop the first?”
“The Ikalreev were unclear on how the consecutive seals would be opened. They all saw the First Seal’s key, but they disagreed on the keys to the remaining five seals. They believed the greatest chance to stop what was coming was to destroy the Initiate in the beginning and remove the threat altogether. Once the First Seal is unlocked, the rest are destined to follow, though not all the council were convinced hope was lost. The great Archmage experienced visions beyond the others and alluded to opportunities to stop each seal, should we have the ability and timing. He explained to me directly that each of the five evils to emerge from the First Seal would have the ability to open one of the remaining seals, but only one of them.”
“So our options and odds are few,” Kellen murmured. “Though hope persists.”
Auvelia understood the insinuations. “We must find the Ikalreev mages. They are able to kill the Initiate or stop the five evils from opening the seals.”
“Indeed. I hope the five Ikalreev mages will be found before the First Seal opens, or it will not matter if the Drey’kan rise against the races,” Caedmon stressed. “We will have greater concerns.”
Everyone sat silent and contemplated Caedmon’s words. The snap of the fire was the only sound for some time. The night grew late and the air cold.
“Rest now and sleep. I will protect you all as you do,” Caedmon said.
Everyone spread out around the fire, and they went to rest, hoping their minds would ease. Yet they all knew they would continue thinking as they would lie awake for some time to come.
Caedmon slowly walked circles around the small camp. The lone sentinel’s heavy footfalls became a comforting rhythm to those lying awake as the deep drum faithfully continued. The formidable sentry’s retinas reflected firelight into the darkness as they peered forth, ever watchful. The starlight grew brighter as the campfire died away. The massive blue form melted into the encroaching shadows.
Chapter 7
“The Glimpse”
“The fog will part to reveal a faint glimpse of what comes.”
The Ikalreev Prophecies 3:10
The small group of travelers awoke early to finish their short journey to Mor. The Mythios Woods gave way to the lush grasslands of the Gashindran Plains. It was still early in the morning when Mor’s stone walls rose over the western horizon. The wagon rolled closer to Mor, and soon a disturbing sight came into view. Bayne lowered his head in grief. The iron gate looked to be jammed. It was hanging halfway lowered. The lower crossbeams were twisted and bent in random directions. A large hole had been torn through the middle of the gate.
The travelers ducked as the wagon rolled underneath the gate. Faolan glanced back and saw the numerous claw marks carved into the bent metal. He was disturbed by the amount of damage done to the gate.
Faolan turned his gaze toward the town around him. A realization hit him in the chest, and he could feel his heart drop. The stench of decaying flesh permeated the air. The gate had been eerily gnarled, but it was nothing compared to the devastation around them now. Countless cold bodies littered the roadway, and their faces were frozen in twisted expressions of pain and fear. There were large areas darkened by the blood of the dead. Faolan’s eyes rose from the lifeless victims to the wooden structures. Many buildings and homes had sustained damage, some had gaping holes in their walls, and others had collapsed roofs. Faolan saw one building that had been completely leveled.
His attention gravitated toward a small form near the leveled house. A young boy’s body was tangled with several broken beams of wood, and his chest did not rise or fall. Faolan’s heart grew heavy, and tears welled in his eyes. The child had blond hair and freckles on his cheeks. Faolan thought the boy was no more than ten years old, if even. He lowered his eyes to the wagon’s floor and wished he had not seen the boy. The group rolled through the town as they mourned for those they did not know. They had seen battles before, but this type of bloodshed was different, more gruesome. This carnage had an evil taint on it.
Caedmon turned toward Faolan and could see a tear rolling down the Shadow Guardian’s cheek. Faolan’s clothing was now a deep blue, from pants to cloak. Caedmon felt something strike him: not physically, more like an unseen power. He could not explain it, and for just a moment he thought he saw something—a color or glow in Faolan’s eyes—but it was fleeting, and Caedmon shook the feeling from his mind.
Bayne pointed in front of the wagon. “That is the town hall. The mayor of Mor will be awaiting our arrival there.”
Leith angled his head over his shoulder to acknowledge Bayne’s statement. As the group rolled closer to the town hall, they noticed hundreds of sick and injured sitting around the building idly. The group stopped in front of the building and stepped off the wagon. The healers grabbed their medical supplies and began tending to those in need. “This way,” Bayne instructed. “Come on. The mayor is waiting.”
Caedmon was the first to follow Bayne. Faolan trailed near the back. His parents grabbed his attention before they entered.
“We will help the healers. You should speak with the mayor,” Auvelia advised her son.
Faolan nodded. His parents walked over to the healers. His mother knelt down next to Aili and put pressure on an open wound while Aili began to treat and wrap the injury. His father approached a child who was sitting alone. The elf, a softy at heart, began to comfort the little girl and brought her out of a dead stare. Faolan lowered his eyes, and a pensive melancholy descended on him for those in pain outside the town hall. He turned and followed the others into the decent-size building. The hall was filled with numerous benches and a podium near the far wall. A number of individuals already stood in the middle of the hall, discussing subjects of importance.
“Soren!” Bayne yelled over the heated debate from afar. The discussion ended abruptly. The debaters’ expressions were a mix of acknowledgment and annoyance. The discussion had been of the utmost importance, and they were not appreciative of the intrusion. A well-dressed individual stepped forward from the scowling men. He was rather clean in comparison to Mor’s current state. He stood out above the others with a proper vest and pocket watch. “Hello. I take it you are the aid from Harmaalinna. I appreciate your kingdom’s assistance,” Soren said with weary eyes.
He then nodded toward the knight. “Bayne, how did your men fare on the journey? Did we send you with enough provisions?”
Bayne lowered his head and with a solemn expression announced, “Only three of us have returned home, sir.”
Soren fought with his emotions, but could not keep his eyes from welling up as a tear escaped them. “Most terrible news, indeed.”
“Aye,” Bayne said.
Soren spoke with a fake smile. “Bayne, I must ask you to attend to your usual duties for now. I will call for
you in a short time to discuss your mission, but I must speak with our guests first.”
Bayne nodded. “Right, but before I leave”—he turned and introduced their guests—“of course, you know Caedmon. This is General Gavina, Prince Treasach, and Faolan, a Shadow Guardian. And, oddly enough, Faolan is the man in charge of the group.”
Soren was caught off guard, “Is that so? Well, it is good to meet you all. I am Soren, if you did not already hear, though I am sure you did, seeing as how Bayne screamed it a moment ago. Please come! Sit, sit, so we may discuss the particulars.”
Bayne bowed and left the others to their discussion. The five of them sat down on the benches in a circle.
“Right, so on to business. Was Lesley able to spare any healers to help the wounded?” Soren’s question was directed toward Caedmon.
Faolan responded, “Yes, they are helping the people outside.”
Soren responded with a lifted brow and slight hesitation. “Good, good.”
The mayor slowly peeled his eyes away from Faolan and turned back to Caedmon. “With the sick being tended to already, we can get to the matter of security. I doubt you all missed the broken gate on the way in. With the gate damaged, we may need help in defending our city should anything attack. Most of my soldiers were killed or severely injured when the demon attacked six days ago. I take it you brought some elven soldiers with you?” he anxiously finished.
Faolan responded once more. “There are six of us. We are prepared to defend the town should the need arise.”
“Only six?”
Caedmon assured the mayor, “Do not worry. The demon will not revisit Mor, and I assure you if it does, we will be more than enough to put it down.”
“I do not think the lot of you understand the severity of the matters at hand,” Soren said.
“Other than protecting the town and healing the ill, is there anything else we can help you with?” Faolan said, trying to quell Soren’s anxiety.
“No, no. About how long do you believe your group will stay in Mor?” Soren asked.
“As long as we are needed,” Faolan said. Caedmon nodded in support.
“Good.” Soren paused briefly and collected his thoughts. “I recently instructed my remaining soldiers to begin moving the dead. The soldiers reported not long ago that the city has been combed twice over for survivors. So I believe all the survivors and wounded have been found. They go out front during the day, for the sun and because it can be quite cramped in here.
“The survivors and wounded come inside during the night to sleep. Not the most comfortable, they admit, but our options are few. The soldiers make do where they are able. They understand.
“The soldiers started moving the dead to a graveyard outside the city walls, though I am worried about the spread of disease. Mor does not have many men to spare for the removal of the dead. It has been many days now since the attack, and still countless bodies litter the city. I was hoping there would be more individuals coming to assist us because we have much work that needs tending.”
Faolan understood the mayor. “I know it is hard, sir. The king would have sent more, but his armies are spread thin. We will do all that we are able to assist. Do not worry, Soren. You have the two best healers from Harmaalinna aiding those outside. I am sure Aili and Leith will do all they can. Please, inform us of what we can do.”
Soren nodded and thought about the offer in more depth this time. They could see the gears in his head turning as his eyes darted back and forth. He nodded again and shook a finger toward Faolan, “You know, I could use some help with protecting our fishermen on their trips to the lake. It is not far to the north. A couple of our storehouses were destroyed in the attack. I have been sending out our fishermen in order to reduce the strain on our grain stores and also to gather fresh water. The men have reported a couple of times that a band of Hyips has been stalking them. Three days ago, they ditched their entire catch for the day out of fear. I do not believe it would be much trouble for you to watch over them, and it would give them a great deal of comfort.”
Faolan looked at Caedmon for guidance, and Caedmon gave him a nod.
“I believe we can help scare off a few Hyips,” Faolan agreed.
“That is great to hear! I will let the boys know that you will be accompanying them.” Soren slapped his knee and smiled.
“Well, then. I believe this is a good start to getting Mor back to normal. I will let you all go for now. I will make sure to send for you when the men go fishing,” Soren said.
“Soren, may I speak with you alone?” Caedmon asked, as everyone was getting up to leave.
“Aye, you can.”
Caedmon looked over his shoulder. “Faolan, please assist in whatever way you see fit. I will be speaking to Soren for some time.”
“Yes, Caedmon,” Faolan said as he walked out the front doors.
Faolan, Gavina, and Treasach left Caedmon and Soren to talk alone inside. The stench of death was the first thing to assault their senses as they walked back outside. Then came the imagery of grave wounds and dead bodies. Faolan was still not used to the graphic scenes. The others could sense his uneasiness. If the expression on his face was not enough to show what he felt, then one could tell by the deep blue of his clothing. Treasach and Gavina had both seen many battlefields over their long years and similar images before. While their surroundings did not sit well with them, they had grown accustomed to the sights of war.
After a few moments, Faolan caught sight of Aili tending to a soldier who was propped up against the town hall’s front wall. She was finishing a wrap around one of the soldier’s wounds. She caught sight of Faolan and smiled at him. He smiled in response and waved at her. She waved back but noticed blood coating her hand and arm and stopped. Embarrassed, she glanced away and continued tending to the injured soldier.
It was the first time Faolan had seen her smile since Lesley. He thought she was beautiful, but her kindness is what really attracted him. He was glad to see she had shaken off whatever disturbing event she had experienced back in the elven capital.
Treasach noticed Leith sleeping on the ground, not far from Aili. “Hey, Aili! What happened to your brother?”
“He listened to the song of slumber!” Aili shouted back. “Do not worry! He will be awake in a few hours. His body has been building up a tolerance over the years.”
They all laughed at Leith’s reoccurring plight, Treasach the hardest.
Faolan remembered the pleasant song, which she had used on him only a few days before. He knew how hard it was to resist its magic, even at a low whisper. A small spot of yellow, for happiness, appeared on Faolan’s shirt, right above his heart.
“Faolan, we should assess the damage to the town with our own eyes,” Gavina advised.
He agreed, and the three of them started out of the T-intersection in front of the town hall. They passed by many buildings with various amounts of damage. Bodies were strewn around in unpleasant positions in every direction. Blood stained parts of walls and patches of dirt. All the human knights they passed on their walk had one thing in common: a somber expression on their faces. Some of the knights carried the dead. One knight carried a crying child.
“All this was caused by one demon?” Faolan wondered.
“That is what they say,” Treasach confirmed.
“If this was caused by only one . . .” Faolan stopped and turned to the others. “Then what will happen if the prophecies are true? What will happen if the Initiate succeeds and the First Seal does indeed open?”
Gavina shook her head. “Who knows? Caedmon speaks as if there will be thousands of them unleashed.”
“May we pray this is not a glimpse of what is to come.” Faolan glanced over the ruined structures.
“You two are depressing. You need to cheer up. Look at the bright side.” Treasach tried to stop the world-ending talk. “My father has a saying for when something is troubling or dismal. I think it goes, ‘When fog enshrouds the path before you,
stare at your feet, wiggle your toes, and continue one step at a time,’ though I could be wrong.”
“It sounds good.” Faolan shrugged. “At least we know you listen to your father.”
Gavina laughed. “Do not let his father know. It will ruin his reputation.”
Treasach frowned. “Reputation?”
“You have not heard your nickname?” Gavina said with a giggle.
“No.”
“Hmph.” Gavina turned her nose up and forcefully kept her lips shut. She walked away from them quickly.
“Wait! What is my nickname?” Treasach ran after her.
Faolan laughed and watched the prince chase Gavina down the road.
Chapter 8
“The Search”
“The second angel will be a furious wave hiding in the calm ocean. At the appointed time, he shall rise and unleash his destruction.”
The Ikalreev Prophecies 5:1
Zauvek’s staff beat the ground in accordance with every step his left foot took. The same rhythmic beat had sounded for the last two weeks during their long, silent walk from the great mountains of the west, known as the Deadpeaks. Zauvek’s steps were slow and labored. An occasional pain stung his heart and burned his chest before a small bit of blood would find his lips. Each time, pain roared through his chest and caused him to pace himself. He stored his limited strength for the times it would be needed.
The road behind them was long, yet it did not compare to the road still ahead. Their muscles did not ache, nor did their skin perspire. Zauvek simply walked, and Waremasu faithfully followed. Waremasu’s footsteps matched Zauvek’s. The stoic angel remained a dozen feet behind the old man, knowing his pace would not influence Zauvek’s. Waremasu’s conical hat bobbed up and down with every short step taken. The hat was tilted forward to keep the wind-swept sands of the desert out of his eyes. His mind was devoid of thoughts. His eyes were glued to the ground. His hands hung relaxed beneath his black-and-white cloak.
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