Maaha tightened her fists in rage, feeling the mental pull as something – or someone – was taking control. She concentrated harder and harder, trying with all her cerebral strength in magic to regain her control over the monster of destruction. Then she stopped as a thought past through her mind, a face of someone she had encountered in the past multiple times, and none of those times ended with a merry goodbye or even a happy welcome.
It was an enemy. The face of someone she hated most in the world.
“Dril’ead Vulzdagg, cursed be your name!” she screamed atop the tower of Swildagg.
Her eyes closed as she took a reassuring breath. “What was sent out to be accomplished has been done,” she told herself. “The child of Vulzdagg is on his way to the abyss of doom, and without him to please the Urden’Dagg the Branch of Vulzdagg will fall to its will. And thus will bring its complete destruction.”
Suddenly, to the scene of Vulzdagg in the distance before her, she shouted, “Have it your way, Dril’ead Vulzdagg! But no matter what heroic actions you take in the defense of your doomed city, it will remain doomed!”
She turned away, flipping her cloak as she went, and pulled the dark purple cowl over her face. Her features were concealed from the unwanted eyes of those who might be watching. Quickly, she ran her hand over the leather of her satchel, feeling the power that lingered within.
“Time is running short,” she told herself. “Dril’ead Vulzdagg is a fool, and will remain so until the end. He has claimed no victory over me or my power.” She snapped her fingers, and a winged drake appeared from the once empty area before her.
It was larger, and darker in shape and complexion than the drakes of Vaknorbond or Swildagg. It was of another realm, and another plain of existence.
Glancing back through her deep cowl at the ruined city of Vulzdagg, she spoke a final farewell. “May my curse be ever on your name, Dril’ead Vulzdagg,” and she grinned wickedly as her mount took to the air at her bidding.
*****
Dril’ead kept his eyes closed, focusing all energy in the steeling of the Elemental’s unintelligent mind. Normally, one would have suffocated within such a tight space as Dril, but some magical power seemed to feed Dril’ead its essence, giving him life where none could be found within the center of the Earth Elemental. He was fighting some magical force to gain control over the Elemental, though, and it became a battle of the mind between Dril’ead and who he guess to be Maaha.
But the mental fight soon ended as Maaha seemed to pull away, giving up for reasons that made Dril’ead wonder and worry that his safety within the rock was soon to be tested. However, before he could begin to guess at what was happening, images began to fill his mind. Images of the outside world it seemed.
He could see everything from the eye of the Elemental, and it seemed to him that the Earth Elemental was running; and when he willed it to stop, it did so.
It ran again for a short distance, and then stopped, just as he willed it to. Again he repeated the action until he felt comfortable with it, making his way toward the gate of his city.
A magical blast of energy slammed into the Elemental as mages surrounded it, another attempt that they knew was pointless. But the blasts took Dril’ead by surprise, and it was his surprise that caused the Elemental to stumble backwards, giving the mages hope that they had delivered a clean hit.
The mages came back upon the Elemental, sending in their magical blasts that tore more rock away than before, and Dril’ead knew it. His presence was sucking the essence from the Elemental and weakening its form. Soon it would crumble, but such crumbling would most likely injure or even kill Dril while he was inside.
Dril’ead had no intention of dying by the hands of his own people, unknowingly to them. He could not bear to give them that shame.
He dragged the Elemental away from the attacking mages in retreat, and could see their puzzled expressions through the eyes of the Elemental. But they pursued, eager to be rid of the monster, launching their attacks while they trailed it with quick determined strides.
Dril could feel their magic tearing off chunks from the rock body of the Elemental, and smiled at their efficient work. But he wasn’t going to hold back his retreat.
Only, it wasn’t a retreat.
The gap in the earth lay before the Elemental’s feet, where the Darklings and cave-crabs were crawling out in uncountable numbers, charging the ranks of The Followers. Here Dril’ead halted the form of the Earth Elemental, hesitating before executing what he had set forth to do when first stepping within its stones.
The blasts repeated behind him, tearing the Elemental to pieces from behind. Its essence was draining, and soon there would be no more for Dril to suck in to keep alive. But he did not move any part of the Elemental. Instead, he let his thoughts wander in his suddenly calmed mind.
He remembered Neth’tek, and all the days he had spent teaching him the skill of the blade, and wondered if anything he had ever taught the young warrior would come to mean something to him. He had always hoped it would. He hoped also that the young warrior would grow in the knowledge he had given him to become someone more than Dril’ead Vulzdagg, or even a common warrior of Vulzdagg.
Dril hoped that Neth’tek would see his faults, and better himself for his future life. To live instead of survive in the dark world.
Wherever Neth’tek was at that moment, Dril’ead preyed it would be for the better. He had made his choice, and let Vaknorbond and Neth’tek go. Trusting his father in the last to be sure Neth’tek’s life would be a life worth living.
“There is no victory in killing,” Dril’ead told himself than, “there is only death.”
The Elemental took a step forward, purposely smashing the Darklings and cave-crabs that crawled about there, and neared the gap before him. His intentions became clear to the mages behind the Elemental, and they ceased their attacks as they discovered that it was meaning to throw itself back into the Lesser Realms.
“What is it doing?” a mage asked another in shock.
“The things gone mad!” the other answered.
Dril’ead’s eyes tightened as he felt no earth bellow the step he was taking. A tear escaped his eye and slid down his warm cheek. He was struggling to breathe now, and could feel his life escaping with every deep gasping breath he was now taking. The foot of the Elemental went down, and the rest of the body followed. The darkness within the Elemental suddenly illuminated a bright orange like fire. Dril’s eyes opened to see the light, and found that he was smiling at his own doom.
That doom never came.
The Earth Elemental was caught in a rush of energy sent by some powerful force outside, and the stone mice detached themselves before igniting into flames, and becoming nothing but smoldering rock as they fell from each other onto the earth and beneath it. As they fell away beneath him, Dril’ead found himself blown backwards by a gush of wind that filled his weakened lungs.
Dril dropped from the air and into the strong arms of a bright being who awaited him.
The mages stumbled back to get clear of the collapsing Elemental that seemed to explode the moment the stranger in white appeared with a brightness that stung their sensitive eyes, causing them to throw up their arms. But no matter how painful it was, they could not withhold their gaze from the figure before them.
Dril’ead was not affected by the brightness as the others were, and he looked weakly up into the yellow eyes of The Follower clothed in white who held him firmly, but with comfort.
The priest of the Urden’Dagg looked back into Dril’s red pupil eyes and spoke solemnly, “Your brother has been accepted into the house of the all great and all powerful Urden’Dagg, and the Branch of Vulzdagg has been returned to its honorable place among the favored Branches of the Urden’Dagg Tree. His actions have saved you, and you and your Branch have been granted a second chance – and only a second chance – to prove yourselves worthy unto the Urden’Dagg. I suggest you take to mind your future choices and ac
tions.”
Dril’ead’s mind was numb to almost all around him, even the priest and his words. He was dazed and dizzy with the thoughts pouring into his mind. However, he answered the priest’s sayings.
“I will, and so shall this Branch.”
With that, the priest nodded as if granting Dril’ead rest, and Dril’s head fell back against the arm of the priest as he became calmly still in his firm grasp.
By the command of the Urden’Dagg’s priest the Lesser Realms were shut, and the chaos slowly came to a close as The Followers finished off the remaining monsters with the remainder of their soldiers, both of Grundagg and Vulzdagg. The warriors of Grundagg were nearly spent, and Gregarr gathered what few were left to be sure their wounds were taken care of.
Razbaar approached his captain, limping on his right leg were he had been severed by a Darklings claw, and dragging a bloodied sword. “Gregarr, what news of the battle?” asked Razbaar weakly.
“The battle,” Gregarr said with a weary grin. “The battle has been won! The victory belongs to Vulzdagg!”
“But what was that light that seemed to end the lives of the monsters that came upon us?” Razbaar said in wonder. “I saw it destroy the Elemental as it was nearing the pit into the Lesser Realms.”
“A priest of the Urden’Dagg,” Gregarr replied. “We are no doubt in its favor to have its protection. Without it we all would have fallen into the hands of whoever released the monsters from their dark imprisonment.”
Razbaar nodded several times, still wondering on the strangeness of the priest. He was no suspicious Follower of the Urden’Dagg, having been in the service of Grundagg nearly his whole life, and lived through many battles with Gregarr as his captain. He respected the Urden’Dagg, never doubting its existence or its judgments; as was the custom of his captain.
Razbaar examined his surroundings from where he was standing outside the doors of the citadel. The buildings were burning or crumbled to the ground by the furious invasion from the Lesser Realms, and the towers were collapsed or weakly standing empty.
“But where has this priest of the Urden’Dagg gone?” Razbaar asked Gregarr, just as he was about to turn away from his puzzled soldier.
“Away from here, and back to the Urden’Dagg no doubt,” Gregarr answered, but made no more move to leave. Instead he stood to examine the ruin of Vulzdagg with Razbaar.
Razbaar nodded, looking down the central street of Vulzdagg to see the wounded limping or crawling, leaning on the arms of comrades or dying in the arms of friends or family. Some soldiers stood crying for unknown reasons, while others walked about in search of loved ones in the ruin of destroyed homes as they cried out a name or two.
There was no joy in the victory. Could they even call it a victory?
One figure limped toward the citadel; his armor was worn and scratched by the claws of his attackers. His white hair was muddied and stained with blood. His face was solidly set, gazing ahead at the broken citadel of his home, never blinking.
The two soldiers of Grundagg looked upon Dril’ead Vulzdagg as he took each step up to the broken doors of the citadel slowly, and painfully. Dril’s face held no emotion except for a mind of troubled thoughts that none could guess.
“The victory belongs to us, Dril’ead Vulzdagg,” Gregarr said as happily as he could, despite the outcome, and as soon as he was sure it was Dril’ead’s bloodied and muddied face.
Dril’ead looked sidelong at him, weariness wearing in his eyes. “No, it belongs to the Urden’Dagg.”
Gregarr and Razbaar both looked down, afraid of the piercing gaze Dril’ead laid upon them.
“Come now,” Dril’ead said to them, slapping Gregarr on the shoulder, “We have Maaha’s mess to clean up.” He walked past them and entered the citadel, stepping over the shattered doors.
Both Gregarr and Razbaar looked to each other in astonishment when the name of Maaha was mentioned. Both had believed her to be dead along with the rest of Zurdagg, long ago when they were destroyed by what they had all believed to be the Urden’Dagg’s wrath.
“Maaha Zurdagg?” Razbaar whispered under his breath in disbelief.
Gregarr looked with wide eyes at Razbaar as he came to an understanding, saying, “The mage among the Mazar’s!”
Both weren’t sure of their own reaction to such a thing, but both of them looked to Dril’ead’s back as he limped toward the empty thrones.
Chapter forty-two
A Thing Forgotten
The citadel was emptied of all persons of Grundagg and Vulzdagg, except for the three remaining members of the noble family. The doors were still lying in ruin upon the floor, having been beaten down by the Elemental Maaha Zurdagg had summoned up against them to aid Mazoroth in his search for Neth’tek. All of it an attempt to end the young warriors life before he reached the Urden’Dagg, to favor it and reclaim Vulzdagg’s honor and respect in its sight.
Dril’ead sat in the throne of the lord of Vulzdagg, his cloak little more than strips of cloth hanging from his shoulders.
Leona’burda sat beside him. Gefiny stood alone, armored as a captain of Vulzdagg. Her sword hung at her hip and the dagger Vaknorbond had given her many years before was concealed within her boot.
All soldiers were resting or rebuilding the city that had been destroyed, while Gregarr was preparing his troops to depart back to Grundagg. Dril’ead and Gefiny were both greatly pleased at the strength and courage that Branch had shown in defending their citadel from the Lesser Realms. Only Leona was displeased at their intrusion, knowing that Grundagg was displeased also, and would demand a payment for all the troops lost before her citadel doors.
But she kept her thoughts private.
Dril’ead sat calmly in his throne, both hands clasped together as he rested his elbows on the iron arms of the great chair, and he rested his chin upon his fists and stared down at his battle worn boots. He did not address either of them, or even acknowledge that they were there for a long while. He was too distracted by the words of the priest of the Urden’Dagg. He wasn’t sure whether to be relaxed with the notions of having his brother in the care of the Urden’Dagg, and be given a second chance, or if he should be troubled with both.
The one thing he did know was that Neth’tek and Vaknorbond were both gone from the realm, and there was nothing he could do about it. They were safe, though, and that was all that seemed to matter at the time.
“The Urden’Dagg has blessed us,” Gefiny said to Dril’ead, an attempt to comfort her troubled brother.
Dril’ead was motionless, and appeared not to have heard her or to see anyone in the room. Rather, he continued staring unblinking at his feet.
“Or cursed us,” Leona said, and she averted her eyes from them. “I presume Neth’tek and Vaknorbond have gone?”
Gefiny looked from Dril’ead to Leona, and then back again before she answered. “Yes, they have fled to the Urden’Dagg.”
Leona straightened and sighed distressfully, her fists clenched on the arms of her throne. The knuckles turned white.
Gefiny lifted her head as she spoke to assure her mother. “But look where that has gotten us. The Urden’Dagg has saved us from the doom that was upon us, and now we’re here standing still in our home.”
“Vaknorbond should never have taken Neth’tek to the Urden’Dagg,” Leona said in growing furry, “He has put us all into the way of danger, and left us with no exit! Yes, we do stand here in our home with a lord who is mad over the call of war! We’re doomed, cursed by the hand of Maaha Zurdagg, ever be her name a burden to this people!”
Dril’ead shuddered when the name of Maaha was mentioned, and slowly he looked up from his feet and to the broken doors of the citadel. His expression was unreadable, but there was no trace of the warriors furry in his eye, or the sadness of pain. His face was completely calm as he examined the ruin of his house.
“Madness is a trick of the mind,” Dril said half to himself. “What may appear to be seen are the facts and the ans
wers. The questions remain to be unseen as the answers are handed to us, but what can such beings do with answers to unspoken questions? I believe in the simple fact that we – every one of us – are in search for one or the other. The search continues, and it always will.”
He looked up and into the face of Gefiny, still with an expression unreadable. For a moment, though, Gefiny thought she saw a flicker of familiarity in his stiff eyes, as if from a memory of the past. It was a memory of a thing gone from them, taken by another whose blood ran the same course as the other.
In the eyes of Dril’ead, Gefiny saw Neth’tek decades from then. No matter how hard Gefiny tried to convince herself she was mistaken, she knew who it was.
“Neth’tek,” Gefiny whispered in a weak voice.
“Neth’tek,” Dril’ead repeated as if in confirmation.
Leona turned back to them, raising her voice in anger and frustration. “What of Neth’tek? What is to be done with him? Are we to await our doom or the doom of Neth’tek? Such a child is undeserving of the punishment for the crimes of his family!”
“He’s gone,” Dril’ead said calmly, turning his attention to Leona now. “He is gone and there is nothing we can do about it. We must look to our own issues, and do what we can to keep ourselves in the Urden’Dagg’s favor before we are punished ourselves.”
Dril’ead stood, exchanging looks of determination between his sister and mother. And then he moved to leave, to give signal that the meeting had come to an end with nothing accomplished.
“What of Neth’tek? What do we do about his fate now?” Leona called to Dril’s back, never to be satisfied.
Dril’ead stopped and looked back as he answered. “We are to forget. We are to forget the day of his birth, and the killing that took place then. We are to forget his coming, and his training, and the great courage he had in taking both skills upon himself. We are to forget Neth’tek Vulzdagg, and the fate that has taken him.”
Shadow Realms: Part One of the Redemption Cycle Page 25
