Light of the Dark

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Light of the Dark Page 24

by N. Saraven


  On the less bright side, the kobolds, elvens, and some humans became so heartbroken that they did not really care about anything anymore. They did what they were ordered to do, without complaining or delays. Even the shadow dragons seemed more disciplined than any time before.

  The summoned army waited somewhat calmly at the borders of Nar, until they got the order: Advance!

  The black-armoured soldiers wiped out any resistance. The army moved as if it were a huge beast, which contained almost three thousand entities, working together in harmony. This force then swept through anything it came across—villages, lands, and towns. Nobody could stand against it; even if they tried, they were put down fast.

  Everything became a part of Indrek’s forming Empire, whether they wanted to or not. The peoples stood no chance, and when they saw the empty eyes of the enemy soldiers, all weapons fell out of their hands. There lay no life in those stares, no feelings. And they seemed to overpower every single opponent.

  After the army arrived, nobody knew what would happen next. The memories of the Dragonwars still lived vividly in the people’s minds. Some had just rebuilt their lives again, so they did not want to lose everything to greedy savages, who usually ravaged the villages, taking everything slightly valuable, and dishonoured their women.

  However, nothing so disrupting had happened. Only a few houses were struck down by the shadow dragons’ deadly flames, and even those were not valuable ones, like blacksmiths’ workshops or bakeries. Usually the sheer appearance of the reptiles and seemingly endless columns of soldiers proved to be more than enough for the peoples to give up. All of them fell, one by one, under the Sun’s watching eyes.

  Indrek had learned from the Dragonwars and thought that the inhabitants would be much more cooperative if nothing terrible was happening to them. Maybe they would pout against the open domination, but if they had everything they needed, everybody would soon calm down. If their lives changed little, these offensive talks had more smoke than actual fire.

  So Indrek ordered his troops to behave; he particularly forbade everything ‘uncivilised’. Every dishonest act was punished with such severity that nobody thought of disobeying.

  Unnecessary killing or brutality towards ordinary people meant that the soldier, or soldiers were stripped of their belongings and rank as army-men, then deprived of everything else they had. As a result, they would have nothing other than the clothes on their back.

  If anybody killed for joy, or took a woman or girl for themselves, they were punished by death.

  And these rules were true for dragons as well. Most of them, anyhow. Indrek did not have to worry about the women part, at least, in that regard …

  As it turned out, however, the Ruler should not have worried himself with such things. Nobody even tried to do something like that, and mostly not because of the severe punishments. Many soldiers did not want anything, besides a new soul perhaps. The others could buy everything their heart desired. The pay was never late, and it covered every need.

  Overall, the army walked over everything smoothly, merging the lands to Indrek’s Empire. They had almost no trouble at all. During only two seasons, every land fell to them.

  If this proved to be a disappointment for some, like the werewolves, they did not show it. They had enough on their hands already. The new Empire was fragile; Indrek needed to strengthen it. Messengers brought around the news to everybody about the new borders of the Domain. The peoples seemed to accept the fact without further trouble. Maybe because their lives were hardly disturbed by any of these happenings—the crops seemed good in that circle, the weather gracious. Animals had bred well, and not one of them was taken by a shadow dragon. If they wanted something, they at least made a bargain …

  Furthermore, no sons were just taken for the army, or any other purpose. Nobody had to learn new rules or make some kind of gesture to assure their new Ruler of their ‘undying loyalty’. They just had to pay more taxes than usual.

  Because everything went so smoothly, way more swiftly than Indrek had ever imagined or planned, when winter arrived, he started to dream of a bigger price—Caracen. Although these ideas of his remained only dreams for the time being, since he had so much to do still.

  On the other hand, there remained two exceptions, two lands which did not bend under his pressure. Firstly, the Elven Homeland.

  They fought hard against him at their borders, although Indrek did not really want to go into war against them. The elvens had wonderful lands, as far as he knew, rich and fertile. It would mean the crown jewel for his Empire. Regardless, another reason existed for abandoning his conquering wishes, which Indrek almost forgot during the ages he had lived so far. However, it emerged almost instantly after he arrived at the Elven Homeland, so he rather eluded this move altogether.

  The Ruler did not want to bite off more than he could chew. Shadow dragons never really had anything against elvens; he felt unsure whether they were worth the trouble of conquering. He only wanted to remind the elvens of his presence and what that meant. ‘Knocked on the door’, as he called it. And to maintain the peace amidst his fiercer subjects, who always spoke about how they should rule all.

  This little brawl solved everything. It maintained the peace in Indrek’s army, and he did not lose any of his elven soldiers. They were another reason the Ruler avoided further conflict with the Elven Homeland. Maybe some had chosen to leave it for a life in Nar, but to go to war against their actual birthplace might bring back some reluctance in them. They were difficult to break in, and Indrek wanted them to stay that way.

  So the shadow turned to other opponents.

  The second exception became the Tower of Mysteries, Nar’s unwanted neighbour. Indrek knew nothing of it, so he could not form a plan to conquer it. It would be unwise to attack a foe like this, so he let the Tower alone. For now …

  As he returned to the capital of his Empire on Cameron’s back, he glanced at that black Tower. He twisted his mouth as he looked at it—not that it was ugly, far from it. He liked it very much. But he would love it even more if he could have his hands on it already. The Ruler truly believed that it was constructed by his enemies to keep an eye on him. Maybe to even stop him.

  Although there were no signs of any resistance towards him, Indrek could not be sure of anything regarding that building. He imagined that one day the mysterious Tower would answer to him with thunder, storms, unknown mages alongside wraiths, and other creatures. Maybe some of the Gods would show up.

  However, there lay nothing but silence, which Indrek could not understand. If MY neighbour started war, I would at least secure my borders … he thought grumpily. He kept spies on the Mist at all times. His thoughts swirled around the Tower even in his dreams.

  He had lived so many circles and he still feared the unknown. He never let that fear control him, of course, but he learned to be cautious. Yet in his nightmares, unknown creatures swarmed out of that wretched Tower, pouring never-seen magic from themselves, destroying everything he had built—the Empire.

  The Domain, which Indrek liked to call Nightfall Empire, as an offering to Lexénia. It was not as big as he would have liked, but enough for the time being. He knew of some which lay beyond the ‘known worlds’, as humans liked to call the charted territories. But they could wait for his ruling; they would not go anywhere. So Indrek strengthened the Empire first, which took time. He really did not want to lose it if somebody wanted it for themselves.

  He had all the time in the worlds.

  As the Ruler glanced at his city from his palace window, he mused further as he sipped his cup of wine. The fire crackled behind him in the hearth. The weather was chilly to him, and without his hard scales, he needed fire and clothes to keep him warm. Although in that moment, it was not the fire nor the winter clothes that warmed him up, but contentment.

  On the other hand, it might be the fruit-wine …

  Indrek smiled at this thought. Whatever it was felt good. Everything seemed perfect
.

  A thud on the table brought him back to the present—a cup was put down. Cameron sat in a comfortable armchair behind Indrek, reading a book. He became the closest companion to the Ruler, and a fierce ally in battle. He did not seem to object to the whole conquest, as if he secretly agreed.

  Indrek often mused on the bright. Yes, he chose to be on his side at the moment, yet he knew almost nothing about him. And he wanted to discover every little secret of his, but for some reason without any force.

  A strange situation formed itself. On one side, Indrek should get all the information he could, especially if there was a chance for it to be about the Tower of Mysteries—using brute force or every other means if necessary. For the Greater Good.

  On the other side, somehow he never really thought of doing such a thing. I am becoming an old fool, he thought grumpily as he glanced at the city, which was slowly falling asleep. Many new signs stood all over the place, advertising the city’s new name: Nightfort.

  The citizens complained, of course. In their eyes, it was an unnecessary trouble to call their home otherwise. Although not much time had passed before fewer and fewer people grumbled about it. Some merchants started to say that the name Nightfort sounded so much better as the capital of the Nightfall Empire than Nar.

  “It was about time to change that wretched name. It sounded like a herd animal’s moan: naaaaaaar,” groaned somebody between cups in a tavern, which was, of course, passed to Indrek as well.

  Not that he minded any of it, or cared what the people thought. He did what he thought was right in any circumstance. Everything could get used to in time. If somebody complained too much, too loud, his men would take care of it. That was one of the reasons Indrek founded the scÿta force.

  Then his thoughts moved along to tomorrow, when he finally could attack the Tower of Mysteries. He wanted to be done with it before hard winter struck, so much so that he could not even sleep. His excitement kept him awake, although when the rain suddenly started pouring down as if it were ordered to do so, the thunderstorm took over that job. It calmed down a little bit by morning; however, the rain did not stop, nor weaken.

  Indrek twisted his mouth when he saw in which kind of weather he had to attack. But he did not want to back out because of some water falling from the skies. Even if it found the little cracks between his clothes. He loathed rain, especially this one—the cold, little drops, which seemed to be as sharp as a knife, getting through whatever he put on. It seemed to him he became soaked almost immediately, which he detested even more.

  Clothes, according to him, were a must-have nuisance in the absence of his hard scales. But they proved to be a terrible menace; the parts never stayed in one place, and it seemed they had their own mind, doing whatever they wanted, not regarding his wishes at all …

  “Gloomy morning, isn’t it?” he told Cameron, who waited with the other dragons at the rim of the city, as he put on his gloves. The bright said nothing, so the Ruler climbed on his back and ordered the army in the air. The shadow dragons took off, followed by werewolves on the ground.

  Indrek had waited for this day patiently, carefully planning everything. He really did not want to ruin anything because of a stupid mistake that a rookie would do. Impatience was his biggest enemy at the moment, holding hands with greed.

  And he really wanted the Tower, he was drawn to it like a bug to candlelight. He planned big things for it—either tear it down or make it his personal home.

  Indrek was brought back to the present by Cameron’s landing. He shivered as he climbed down from his back. The Tower stood close to Nightfort, although it was far enough for the glorious Leader to get soaked. He growled and tried to get rid of his annoying thoughts. Everything had its price. Even if after you might regret it, he thought, recalling his deal with Lexénia.

  “Everybody is at their place, and we are ready to attack!” reported a particularly big werewolf Commander who was called Grey.

  Why he was named such, Indrek could not even guess, since the fur on his tail and his hair was brown. Maybe it was some kind of wolf humour, although the Ruler had never found even the hint of such amidst the wolves so far. He knew that they only gave a name for a kid when they became known enough to do so. Usually this meant that the young ones would gain a name from a personal characteristic, like Ironfist, Wuther, and so on. All the others Indrek knew were clear as a summer sky to him, but Grey … he remained a mystery to the dragon.

  Indrek growled again and swayed his head to focus on the situation.

  “Perfect. Any resistance?” asked the Ruler, which made every Commander exchange uneasy glances. Even the shadow dragons’ Leader seemed off, which made Indrek frown.

  “My Liege, the Tower … there is nothing, anywhere,” mumbled the scÿta commander, who lead the scouts. Indrek was never good with names, so he could not remember his. But seeing him almost blush in embarrassment made the Ruler uneasy as well. It was as unusual amongst the scÿta, as a salad-loving wolf …

  “My Liege, we looked everywhere. Found the Mist, but nothing else. There is … nothing. Everything is calm and peaceful. One of the dragons hunted down a … I cannot remember what it was.” The scÿta commander looked stunned by the fact that even they could not find anything out of the ordinary.

  “Something is not right.” Nighteye, the Leader of the dragons, stated the obvious.

  Indrek glanced around and sighed. Everything about this place just felt wrong. Nothing should be that calm, especially not a battlefield.

  “Any ideas?” Indrek turned to Cameron, who just gave an are-you-serious look as an answer. Then shrugged.

  “How should I know? I am not in the Tower,” he rumbled.

  A flash of anger hit Indrek. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, chaos broke out. All of the commanders ran to find out what happened. They almost believed the battle had finally begun. However, as it turned out, it was only two shadows arguing about their breakfast. During their bickering, they accidentally stepped on a few wolves, who snapped back and growled. But soon their handlers came and ordered them away. Then the reptiles, with the help of a few words from Indrek, managed to share the carcass.

  “What in the Gods’ name is happening?!” cried out the Ruler as he marched back to Cameron. He had a strong urge to beat out every bit of information from the bright, albeit he restrained himself. It would do more harm than good, he decided.

  “We won’t wait any longer. Advance!” he shouted, which made the army get in order again.

  As the army moved forwards, at one point something terribly black showed up in front of them. It billowed as a fog—the Mist.

  Everybody had heard about it, but nobody knew what it was exactly. Was it a living thing, or just some kind of an illusion, or magic? The only certain thing was, it kept everything and everybody away from the Tower.

  “Careful, boys, don’t look at it,” said Grey to his men. If anybody looked directly at the scarlet eyes of the Mist, they became dead or, if less fortunate, damage-minded but alive.

  The soldiers took step after step, carefully and slowly. However, there were no signs of resistance. The dragons’ wings whooshed above the treelines, merging with the rustle of the leaves under their feet.

  Then, a column of flame burst into the Mist just before the ground-troupes, which made them step back. Then another and another, until it seemed that a wall of fire was attacking the darkness.

  As a result, the Mist, and behind it, the Tower itself, started to flutter.

  “What the …” gasped Indrek, as he watched the attack from the air on Cameron’s back. The Tower quivered more and more, then slowly fainted as it disappeared.

  The Ruler burst out in anger, hitting the bright’s back with his fists, while cursing everything and everyone. Until Cameron had enough and growled at him.

  Somewhere in the back lines, however, on a shadow dragon’s back, a kobold soldier let out his breath. He could not feel anything but relief as he mouthed a
small omen.

  “Thanks to the Gods!” he whispered under his breath, wiping a raindrop out of his golden eyes.

  25. Endless arguments

  “Why?! Why should we do anything?!” snapped Neila as she jumped to her feet and started to pace around the study.

  Agony, Halgor, and Talek glanced at her questioningly. Even Veilon, who stood before a bookshelf, raised a brow as he looked up from reading.

  “What do you mean ‘why’?” asked Agony, astonished. “Every human-inhabited land is now under Indrek’s ruling. Don’t you think that we should do something about it?”

  Hearing the question, Neila just turned at him with smouldering eyes. They had argued about the same thing since they got the news about Indrek’s conquest. But instead of going to war against him, Varomor fled and did nothing since then.

  Agony neither agreed with nor could understand this decision. Even though he knew Neila and her logic. At least, he thought so until now.

  It was two seasons ago when the ‘what now?’ question first emerged, after what happened in Lexénia’s castle, leaving the army to squeeze inside Varomor. And Neila had not seemed to do very much since then. She took action only once, and nobody was thrilled with that either. She sternly gave out some orders, without considering any other opinions. She was not interested in talking over things, or any kind of discussions. It became as clear as day that she had said everything that she intended to, and after that she considered the matter closed.

  Neila then left her friends for Enargit. Nobody had ever found out what they were talking about. They locked themselves in Neila’s room with a rune guarding it. This could prevent even Veilon from sneaking in.

  From that moment, Neila behaved coldly towards everybody. She seemed not to care about anything or anybody. She argued with Agony almost all the time and looked through Talek as if he were not there. Kira and Rita could not get a word from her, not even a growl.

 

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