Shadow Realms: Part One of the Redemption Cycle
Page 27
Ezila, however, held her firm position.
The Urden’Dagg smiled at them with a broad smile. It was very amusing to him to see such astonishment from his people, if not from Ezila. He did not look straight at her, but seemed to hold a grudge against the spirit that spoke of a past time that in one way or another affected him somehow.
“I am of the Adya, from the ancient kingdom of the surface realm,” said the Urden’Dagg. “I am the rightful heir to the throne of Swaldar, my kingdom of old. The Silver City was my homeland, hidden among the hills of Heinsfar. You are all my followers. My kinsfolk you all are. Your forefathers were once The Fallen of the Adya as I am, but they were betrayed by their fellows and so followed me as their savior. I brought them to safety among the caverns of the earth, waiting for the time when they shall return with the glory they deserve.” He looked to Ezila as he finished, holding his firm gaze upon her for a brief moment.
Turning from her he spoke to all of them again. “I am Diamoad, child of Drelus, and brother of Duoreod the Betrayer. They are both traitors to me. But I, Diamoad, am the rightful heir of Swaldar and the Silver City. Both were taken from me, and I was cast out to fall from the glory that was mine by right!”
He turned to Neth’tek as he continued. “Neth’tek Vulzdagg, you say that it does not matter whether you lose or win a fight? Well, I fought and I lost my fight, and I tell you that the fault of the battle belongs to my father. He allowed my brother steel what was mine! Together they stole my future from me!
I am Diamoad! Look and remember the face, the eyes, and the hands that are cursed because of their treachery against me! I am the Urden’Dagg, your savior. I promise all of you that from this day forward I will never betray you as they did me. I will never cast you into the abyss of this world as they did me. And if you follow me in seeking vengeance upon those who destroyed us all, we shall all rule Aldabaar as the rightful kings!”
So this is what this is all about. To get revenge on a people this Diamoad calls traitors to him. Now Neth’tek knew at last what the Urden’Dagg was. He knew its name, and that it was no longer just it to him, but a he and him. However, could this Diamoad be trusted? Could Neth’tek follow him into open combat against the surface realm, to take back the kingdom that was rightfully theirs? Neth’tek had never before heard the tale of Diamoad, but hearing it now he wasn’t sure if following him was such a good idea after all. Even if he did promise to bring them all back to the glory they had all fallen from, Neth’tek did not trust the Urden’Dagg.
He was supposed to stand beside the witch who had brought Dril’ead into his state of madness, as a friend; and that thought alone was not in the least comforting to Neth’tek. He didn’t trust her, nor would he ever. And Ezila, she seemed strange enough already. He didn’t know her, and so he couldn’t trust her.
The question before had been answered at last, but from that answers came more questions that would press Neth’tek until the answers came; would more questions come from those answers? Could anyone be trusted? Could Neth’tek believe Diamoad the Urden’Dagg to hold true to his word in the end? Who was left for Neth’tek to trust? Dril’ead was gone, and Neth’tek knew for certain that he’d deeply miss his brother in days to come.
Already the fierceness of it was striking him.
There was Vaknorbond, standing behind Neth’tek with a hand now resting on his shoulder. The hand of Vak was firm, but gentle. It was caring, but guiding. This was the person Neth’tek had to believe would guide him. He had to trust in his father. If not Vaknorbond than no one, and Neth’tek couldn’t live his life without trusting in someone. But, was Vaknorbond regretting that he had ever come?
Looking sidelong at Ezila, Neth’tek saw that she was looking back at him through a turned head. Her eyes were solidly set, unblinking and full of strength. Her expression matched that of the feeling from Vaknorbond’s grasp on his shoulder. She would care for him, but could he trust her like his father?
For the present time, they were all still power hungry weapons of Diamoad the Urden’Dagg, save for the seemingly sorrowful Vaknorbond.
Neth’tek closed his eyes as he looked away. A single tear escaped to fall with an unseen splash upon the carpet. A single tear for his one trusted friend, who he used to fear but found he loved. And always would.
Goodbye Dril’ead!
Epilogue
A Hope for all Fallen Kind
Poor child, thought Vaknorbond Vulzdagg.
He watched Neth’tek pass beneath the stone archway on one side of the room, and then disappear out of sight. He wondered if he would ever see the youthful fighter again, would ever come to look upon his son who showed so much courage and discipline throughout his short life in the realms of shadow. Why, though, had he gone away so soon? How come Vak had to watch his entire household, all of the people he had sacrificed so much to protect, be pulled suddenly but gradually from his grasp?
It was like the Urden’Dagg was slowly pressing a knife into his knee. Not killing him, but causing ultimate agony. Diamoad, whoever the wretched fool was, would someday pay for what he had done to Vaknorbond Vulzdagg. Although he didn’t realize it, Vak was swearing such a thing to himself as he watched his son leave.
Poor, poor child! Poor wretched fool of a child! Why did you let me take you? How come you are so willingly obedient to such foolish commands! Alas! I lament seeing these days. Vak continued to stare at the empty archway long after Neth’tek departed through them, and recalled how Neth’tek slung the satchel of Maaha Zurdagg over his shoulder before he left.
If there be any truth in what Diamoad the Urden’Dagg has said to us this day, you better protect my son, said Vak as he imagined the satchel, and the druid spirit of the woodlander that came from it.
As he stood for that long moment afterward, Maaha Zurdagg approached him and stood at his side. She did not speak to her rival lord, the chief of the Branch she had tried to destroy on some separate occasions, each time her strength of willpower failing her. Vulzdagg had grown stronger with each strike she made again it, it seemed to her. And after all that time they now stood side by side in the hall of the Urden’Dagg. However, the priest of the Urden’Dagg, and Diamoad the Urden’Dagg himself, had both left the room with Neth’tek and Ezila the spirit.
“Well, Vaknorbond Vulzdagg, here at last we stand together,” she said, following his gaze to the archway. “I never expected our intrusions against one another would actually land us in the palace of the all great and powerful Urden’Dagg. Then again, I never expected your people to last so long as they did. Their strength, like so many others, seems to have its limits, though.” She couldn’t help but smirk at her last comment.
Vaknorbond did not speak for an extended moment of reflection, imagining to himself the destruction Maaha had caused his people. “You slaughtered my people,” he said evenly, his eyes and tone dull. “You destroyed the spirit of my son, and then crushed his body. Your legions of monsters wrecked the homes of my people, killing my wife and daughter with them all, and sent the innocent people of Swildagg against me and this last living member of my namesake. I hate you Maaha Zurdagg, and this hate runs with a deep passion. I always have and I always will. Pray that the ancient glories of our past will have mercy on your soul when the time of your doom comes.”
“You may find it strange of me to have expected no less than what you say,” Maaha replied. She looked sidelong at Vaknorbond, trying to read the expressionless feeling in his eyes. “I have always distained the Branches of the Urden’Dagg Tree, along with the Urden’Dagg itself. Seeing it for what it truly is makes my distain run no less deeply than yours for me, though I expect your hate for me altogether outdoes all else.”
Vak’s silent and solemn expression told her yes, and she continued as she looked back to the archway. “How long do you expect your remaining namesake to last upon the surface?”
Vaknorbond turned, then, to look at her, and she met his eyes. “A millennium,” he answered directly.
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Maaha smiled at that. “You have faith in your son, then?” she asked, and then added offhandedly, “It is a fool’s faith, nonetheless.”
“A fool who has outwitted you many a time now,” Vak retorted, and he looked away. “Such faith as his, if all of us cursed people were to have it, could save the world in mere days. However, only one has it, and he is not coming back. At least, I pray that he does not return to these dark and evil lands.”
“He may yet,” Maaha replied. “I wouldn’t expect anything less of a creature with faith that you speak so highly of. He will come and try to save these wretched creatures, but he will fail to his utter shame.”
“Maybe you are right,” Vak said. “Though, if Neth’tek does not come back down to this world, someone already among us will attempt the salvation of this people.”
“And he will fail,” Maaha put in firmly.
“Perhaps,” replied Vak, “None can say what the future holds, save it be a guess to theirs only.”
Maaha was silent in thought for a moment, seeming to comprehend what Vaknorbond was saying, and understanding it. Then to Vak she asked, “What, then, do you guess will become of your future?”
Vak’s solemn expression grew distant as he pondered this, and slowly and quietly he responded. “It ends today,” he said. “I have seen enough. I have done enough. And I have heard enough. The evils caused by my hands end this day.”
Suddenly, the lord of Vulzdagg turned about and strode down the maroon carpet.
The large doors of the Urden’Dagg’s chamber loomed before him, but they opened as he approached them, and Maaha Zurdagg turned to watch as he entered into the gloom of the cold cavern beyond.
None can say for certain, but it is thought that Vaknorbond Vulzdagg walked some one hundred yards into the unknown caverns of the Shadow Realms, caves on the very edge of the Greater Realm, and there laid himself down on a patch of cold sand.
A sleep took him, then, from which he would never awaken back into the world of the living. But he passed on into the halls of his forefathers, in whose arms he was warmly welcomed, and in whose eyes he was not ashamed to look.
He lays there still, in the Realms of Shadow beneath this world.
The End of Shadow Realms