The Goblin and the Empire

by JD Cole

  The Hood stepped aside for Undine, who repeated everything she had said to Derek, answering several questions from both the faeries and humans, though the faeries were obviously far more distressed at what they were hearing.

  As Undine concluded, everyone looked to Dufangen, who had kept her head bowed for most of the elemental’s story. “The sprites will need to confirm through shi’un… however, I believe Undine’s fear is correct. Incerra would have easily provided the King enough power to break through our defenses the way he did.”

  The humans physically felt the dread that suddenly swept across the faeries.

  “This,” Dufangen continued, “greatly complicates things. We must consult the mystic council, I have summoned them to join us.” The mystic walked authoritatively to a position that placed her in full view of everyone. “You will not only be rescuing the Queen’s father. You must retrieve Incerra at all costs. Ercianodhon cannot be allowed to possess that weapon. It is unimaginable luck that he has not used it against us before now.”

  “Luck, or calculation?” Kassak asked.

  “Explain,” Meshra looked at the young elf.

  Kassak looked stunned, as if he hadn’t realized speaking his thoughts aloud. He took a few moments to collect himself, then, “How long has he had the dagger? It isn’t likely he just came into possession of Incerra recently.” He looked at Dufangen, who gave him no answer in her expression. “We have just found the Queen, had just brought her home. It would be too much of a coincidence for him to happen on Incerra at the exact same time.

  “I think it is likely he has had the blade for a long time... an elemental weapon is an incredible advantage no matter who you are, but a warrior with wisdom does not brandish all of his best capabilities until he must. Once I see your moves, I can ponder and develop ways to defeat them, or at least defend against them.” The warriors in the room nodded agreement.

  “The question is, what happened to make the Goblin King need to use Incerra now? Is it because the Queen is part human?”

  Dufangen’s eyes closed, knowing the answer. The King had to have felt the emotions Kelli had used in eradicating every last mosquito from the planet. He was scared. How could he not be? She herself was terrified.

  Marc pursed his lips. “Are there any more of these ‘elemental weapons’? Maybe we can borrow some to even the odds.”

  Undine waved her hands. “They would never release those weapons for any reason.” She stopped suddenly, almost beginning to say ‘we’. But the there was no reason to confirm or deny anything the humans suspected about her. “They served their purpose. They were all locked away, except for the lost weapons.”

  “Lost? Like Incerra?”

  Undine’s expression all but shouted ‘dammit’. She sighed. “There were three weapons unaccounted for when the faeries,” she paused once more, remembering Derek’s deception. The humans believed they were on Mars. “One of their excursions to Earth in the distant past.”

  “So the king might have three weapons?” Lumina asked.

  The elemental shook her head. “I never knew what happened to Incerra. But I do know Melneer and Avagray are on Earth.”

  “The Warlock Staff,” Lumina whispered under his breath, his eyes glazing.

  “If you know that,” Derek said, “so would the sprites. Why wouldn’t they retrieve them?” He looked at Dufangen, who answered.

  “We know they’re on Earth, but not exactly where.”

  “What are they?” Marc asked. “Are they powerful, like this Incerra blade?”

  “Siblings of yours, then?” Derek thought at Undine.

  “Younger brothers,” she replied silently to him. Then, aloud, “Odin and Djiin.”

  Derek tilted his head. “Odin? Melneer? Are you talking Viking mythology? Thor and Mjolnir?”

  “Thor, that was the man’s name,” Undine tapped her chin.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Marc interrupted.

  “The fairy tales are real, remember?” Derek answered. “Apparently some of the mythological weapons in our literature are real, too.”

  “Good effing grief,” Marc muttered.

  “What’s that last weapon?” Derek turned back to Undine. “Avagray, what is that?”

  “The last-forged of the elemental weapons,” Undine answered, “and the most powerful. Avagray is not a traditional weapon, it is a sorcerer’s staff, similar to the one Dufangen carries. Djiin is Avagray’s guardian. He incorporates all of the elemental guardians’ powers... you could say he was the beta-release of the Birthright, before the Birthright was forged and bonded to the sprites.”

  “You’re saying somebody can bind with ‘Jean’ and become as powerful as Kelli?” Derek asked silently.

  Undine laughed in his mind. “Yes, for all the good it would do them. Personality-wise, Djiin is my polar opposite. He despises being bound. The sprites created him that way on purpose. Despite that, he has fallen into human hands several times, I imagine out of boredom. He typically grants his masters three ‘wishes’, but almost always uses those wishes to kill them in the most gruesome and ironic ways possible.”

  “Arabian Nights,” Derek shook his head. “Djiin, not J-E-A-N. Thor and Aladdin’s genie. Unreal.”

  “Now there’s genies?” one of Marc’s soldiers asked.

  “I can’t believe I’m jumping into the middle of this,” Marc said, “but if those weapons are on Earth, can we get them? Use them?”

  The Hoods both looked over at him, their movements synched so perfectly that Marc flinched at eeriness of it.

  “Fight fire with fire,” one of the other soldiers agreed.

  “No offense,” Meshra opined, “but we will not allow another of our weapons to fall into human hands.” Loud murmurs from the faeries agreed with him.

  “No,” Undine said, “but that’s... actually not a bad idea. If the faeries could regain possession... provided you can find Odin. I would not suggest acquiring Djiin. He would likely be willing to help the Queen, but there’s no guarantee he would not kill anyone who binds with him.”

  Derek crossed his arms, shaking his head. “I don’t think anybody should be binding-”

  “Okay, so we skip that one,” Marc spoke over him.

  “Well, we may not be able to skip him completely,” Undine said. “He is the one masking his and Odin’s presence from the sprites. They do not fancy being locked up and hidden away for eternity.”

  “So it’s a staff,” one of the soldiers asked, “not a lamp like in the legends?”

  Undine blinked. “A lamp? Djiin’s eternal flame burns in the staff’s crook, I suppose you could use it as a lamp if you didn’t want to use its vast magical power instead.”

  Derek sighed. “I’m gonna assume Melneer is a hammer?”

  “A war hammer, yes. As tall as you are, and at least a hundred times your weight.”

  “Summons lightning?”

  “Among other capabilities, like ether-travel. Odin commands wind-element.”

  “A hundred times-!” Marc exclaimed. “That’s like six thousand some kilos! What’s the point of a weapon that’s too heavy to pick up?”

  “Whoever Odin binds with can easily wield the hammer regardless of their strength. You are correct, it would be a pointless weapon, otherwise.”

  One of the soldiers lifted his chin at Marc. “Boss, didn’t you ever watch the old Avengers movies with Thor? ‘Whosoever is worthy’ can pick up the hammer and get all of Thor’s powers?”

  “Hell yeah!” a few of the other soldiers agreed.

  “I’m not really into action movies,” Marc admitted. “I prefer a good biography or mystery.”

  The faeries began to quarrel among themselves at these revelations, more than a few of them throwing accusing gestures and looks at the humans.

  Undine crossed her arms, standing silently while not really looking at anything or anyone. “You are very uncomfortable with this,” she thought at Derek.

  “I already don’t lik
e being bound to you, I’m not about to endorse somebody else being hijacked by an elemental. I notice you were eager to promote finding your brothers.”

  “I have no ulterior motive, though I understand you have no reason to trust me. I apologize, Hood. If you wish, I will dissuade the humans from this notion.”

  Derek thought for several moments while the soldiers continued tossing ideas between each other. Then he looked at the elemental. “The feralman, Samantha? Is she still listening in on us?”

  “I believe so. Her taint is still on several of the men-”

  Derek snorted aloud, waving off the looks he got. “Sorry, my nose is itchy.” To Undine, “Let’s not use the word taint anymore, okay?”

  “As you wish.”

  “The cat’s already out of the bag if she’s eavesdropping, then. You said none of the other elementals have your dependency problem?”

  “That is correct. They choose their own masters, and don’t particularly have a need for one like I do.”

  “But you also told me you’re the only one that can use magic without a master. So how can Djiin hide from the sprites?”

  “Early in his life, he convinced one of his first masters to cast a charm that hides him and Odin from scrying.”

  “Why Odin? Why not you and the others, too?”

  “Djiin and Odin were always close. I believe they plotted to escape from the sprites together. Djiin has no real feelings toward our other siblings, except for me. He looks down on me for my... dependency.”

  “Sorry,” Derek said lamely after a moment.

  “It does not bother me,” she replied. “I only ever feel connections to my masters.”

  “In any case,” Derek thought, then spoke out loud, “Guys, guys! I hate to squash your superhero fantasies, but we don’t have time to go hunting for these mystical weapons.”

  “The Hood is correct,” Dufangen added.

  Derek continued. “We don’t know where they are. We do know where the Queen’s dad is, and every minute we delay his rescue, we get one minute closer to him and the Queen being murdered. If she dies,” he looked at Marc and his team, “you may never get home.”

  “That hardly seems fair-” Marc blinked as the Hood waved to cut him off.

  “Kelli is half-human. These guys,” he pointed at the fairies, “don’t give a rip about your welfare like she does.”

  No one in the room argued against that statement.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  The battle was drawing to a close, Maxillion sensed. More than just the looming sunset, what had started as a slight drizzle an hour ago was now a torrential downpour. Even the necromancers had difficulty making their goblins mobile in the mud.

  The elf let out a heavy breath as he searched for another enemy to engage, but his fellow soldiers had things well in hand. When the goblins and irenaks already on the field were dispatched, the two armies would once again retreat to wait out both the rain and the night, and resume the killing in the morning. The mood had been somber ever since the Goblin King made his appearance yesterday, killing more faeries in a few heartbeats than had died throughout the entire campaign so far.

  Lagraen trudged over to Maxillion, his beard and armor all but lacquered with blood and bile despite the rain. He now carried a large slash down the length of his left arm, where an irenak had managed to miss his neck but nearly removed his arm instead. The wound had been treated and sealed up yesterday, but now the bandages hung loose after a long day of fighting.

  “I guess we’ve been rewarded with the chance to do this all again tomorrow, eh?” the dwarf said.

  Maxillion was too tired to reply with anything more than a nod. He looked around and spied Dex, a pile of goblin body parts on the ground around him. Their fellow ranger, Padessi, had been killed three days ago by two irenaks, his body instantly transported back to Jenshire by General Khun Rhee’s magic to prevent his becoming a goblin. Maxillion and Dex had internalized their grief; Padessi had been wed just a few months ago, and now his wife was unknowingly a widow, his unborn child fatherless.

  Morale had been low ever since the Goblin King’s surprise attack, and it was very noticeably affecting how the elves fought. Their resolve at the start of the war several weeks ago was now closer to desperation and despair. It was hard to walk anywhere in the camps lately without hearing the whispers about Khun Rhee’s previous failed attempt to conquer Matari several centuries ago; there were quiet murmurs that they were all headed to a defeat as momentous as that one had been. Maxillion tried not to think about it.

  Nearly three thousand faeries had died in that war, and a third of that had already perished in this one, most of them in one day.

  With the battle concluded, he silently marched back to camp with his battleprok. Blademaster Denn walked among them, his gherat having been wounded several days ago. He moved from one troop to another, silently giving them what encouragement he could with a pat on the shoulder, or a nod of the head. He took the time to walk with Maxillion for a few moments.

  “You did well today, ranger.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the blue-haired elf replied. “If only we all possessed your skill and experience, maybe we’d have taken the walls by now.”

  “Nonsense,” the blademaster shook his head forcefully. “If everyone focused all of their time on war like I did, we’d have no crops, no children, no arts or music, no point in living. Your rangers are doing incredibly well, Maxillion, and I’m not blowing pipeweed up your nose. I mean it.”

  Maxillion managed a tired grin. “I was led to believe the army viewed us borderlanders as weekend warriors.”

  Denn barked a laugh. “I’ve met soldiers who hold that view and let me tell you, every one of them had less time on the training ground than your rangers spend defending the border on any given day of the week.”

  “I appreciate that sentiment, sir.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ve been curious about your height. Forgive me if I’m prying, but…”

  “I get that a lot,” Maxillion admitted. “I’m just an elf. No humans or trolls or vampyres in my family tree. I sometimes wish there were just so I could have a more exciting answer to the question.”

  “Truly? Well, enjoy your gift, ranger,” Denn said with feeling, looking up at Maxillion who was a full head taller than the taller-than-average blademaster. “I don’t mind admitting I envy your reach with a blade!”

  The battleprok made it back to their part of the camp. They had suffered only twelve losses over these weeks, including Padessi. There were several battleproks however, that had been completely or nearly annihilated during the Goblin King’s attack, and some of the displaced had been reassigned to this battleprok, making use of the tents and equipment that others could never use again.

  Lagraen’s spirits perked up as they neared the communal cantine. He tapped Maxillion’s shoulder. “How messy’s my face?”

  Maxillion’s expression was fairly negative. “Apart from the blood and guts in your beard, you’re still ugly.”

  “Bahh,” the pashryk ignored him and began combing his thick fingers through his hair, trying to use the rain to clear out as much of the gore as possible.

  “Just go,” Maxillion shook his head. “We’re in a war, she doesn’t care what you look like after a battle.”

  Lagraen grunted in partial agreement and stalked toward the cooking area. Maxillion tried to smile as he watched his friend fumble over words with one of the dwar cooks who’d smitten him. Of course, calling her a cook was not quite accurate, as there was no one in the army who wasn’t proficient at fighting, no matter their assigned role.

  Most of the battleprok headed toward the cantine for some much-needed food, but Maxillion headed for his bunk. He had some personal rations there, and was in no mood for company. When he got there, he saw Dex was already at the campfire, consuming his rations alone. The two rangers nodded at one another, weary of the death that surrounded them each and every day.

  I pray the queen was
worth all of this.

  « CHAPTER 18 »

  A Grand Alliance

  Kelli stood atop the pool of water, surrounded by cliffs and the waterfall nearby. She stared down at her reflection as Sorvir and her mother sat at the water’s edge.

  “The night Ben and I got married,” she said without looking away from her reflection. “You guys... all the sprites... you all knew we were together?”

  “We felt your magic clash. No one was certain at the time, but the mystic council believed your... that you and Ben were the cause.”

  “I just...” Kelli shook her head clear. This dream world was having the desired effect of calming her emotions, giving her inner peace despite the nightmarish things she was learning. “I refuse to accept that what Kraayek did, that evil act... and what he created... Ben and I are not capable of that.” She pulled a deep breath into her nostrils, holding it for several moments before exhaling slowly through her mouth.

  “I do not want to believe it myself, Highness,” Sorvir said. “But in any case, the matter does not require an immediate answer. There is much to do here on Earth before your husband returns, much that requires your attention.”

  Kelli nodded. “Dad.” She looked at Vanessa as a few tears escaped. “I’m so sorry mom. None of this should have happened, I thought bringing you guys here was going to be a good thing, I...”

  “Shh,” Vanessa stood, holding her arms open. Kelli trotted over to be held. “Everything will be okay. I know it will. You’re the one who stopped that alien from killing more people in Boston.”

  “I didn’t do it alone-”

  “Exactly. You and your friends, and the faeries, all of you will win this fight, too. We’ll get your dad back. I know it.”

  Mother and daughter held each other for what could have been hours in the place, allowing the peace to settle over them as Sorvir sat silently, meditating. Finally, Kelli let go and sat beside her cousin.

  “Can we see my dad? From here I mean, can we scrye or shi’un where he is?”