Light of the Dark

by N. Saraven

  The other two Gods only nodded in agreement. Enargit suddenly realised that because of these differences, they now could thank their different ‘type’ of God. Probably Setal became fond of plants, while Arisha of animals, and so on. So then … the dragon thought.

  “Lexénia is the Goddess of Death and Ruin. How?” asked the Leader, which made the Creators sigh.

  “Until we … how should I put it …” mused Arisha. “Well, we could work on a specimen, while Lexénia could not. Everything died in her hands, became ruined, or crumbled. She could not create, only destroy. After many, many talks, she finally accepted her role as the Death-bringer. After all, only Destruction can create the foundations of Life.”

  “Wait now …” cut in Enargit again, confused. “If you already know that none can exist without the other, then why do you do your … experiments further? Why do you care which side is stronger? But maybe even more important, why experiment on us? Do it on yourselves!”

  The Gods exchanged embarrassed looks again. Setal answered, seemingly uneasy.

  “It is one of the characteristics of our species that we are all equally strong in our abilities. If a magical fight would break out between us, there could be two endings: both of us die, or live. This is one of the reasons why we created this world: to test our theories. We suspected that Life is probably the same in strength as Death. We also found out that both of them are needed; without one, the other ceases to exist. Although these are still theories which need to be proved or disproved.”

  The Guardian of Plantlife answered reluctantly, which Enargit wanted to consider as a sign of regret. After all, Setal himself would be probably outraged if a higher power came and said to him that he is nothing more than an experiment for fun who was jerked around on a string …

  “So YOU festered every single war!” snapped the dragon. “EVERYTHING is your fault, every death, every conflict!”

  “I would not go that far, my dear,” said Arisha softly, yet firmly, although she never looked at the dragon. “Yes, what you call as Lost Wars were somewhat our doing. But we could never actually have made the conflict if it were not in their nature to start with.”

  “Not if YOU let those characteristics in as your goodwill during the ‘creation’, or put them in,” rumbled the Leader grimly.

  The Gods had no answer to this, although it seemed that they knew exactly how they could disprove the dragon; they just did not try to do so. Why, the shadow could not imagine. Probably something about his incapability of understanding.

  Silence fell on the sunny meadow, which seemed to be cold and unfriendly because of the mood that occupied it. Only the strange rustle of the plants sprouting and withering and the swashing of the fountain broke that.

  “If you have no other questions, we will send you back,” said Arisha softly. Enargit only nodded.

  In the next moment he felt dizzy, then everything became black before his eyes.

  He closed them and when he opened them again, he lay on his side in a very uncomfortable position, as a dragonman. Darkness surrounded him, and the air felt too humid and warm in his nostrils. He moaned as he tried to scramble to at least a sitting position. It felt like his mind still remained somewhere else, far, far away.

  He tried to see something other than blurry spots, but he could not seem to hold his head steady, or at least stop the room from spinning. After a few tries and through unbelievable concentration, he could identify Eteryon before him.

  Slowly the lines got sharper. But even without those he could clearly spot that Neila was nowhere to be found. But he remembered her fainting right beside him.

  “Where is Neila?” he asked slowly, as if the words did not want to form in his mouth. He held out one hand to tap around where she should lie, but almost fell on his face when he lost his balance. Eteryon helped him as he answered.

  “Lexénia took her, her body as well, for some reason.”

  Enargit stared at him, dull.

  “By the … I knew this was a mistake,” murmured the Leader under his breath. All eyes were on him now, Veilon’s too. Enargit glanced at him with such a gaze, it made the kobold wince.

  33. A special agreement

  The darkness in Neila’s mind faded away slowly. She felt herself awaken, albeit a dream fragment refused to leave. Not to mention the darkness itself, which seemed something other than the usual blackness in one’s sleeping mind.

  The Master awoke slowly, sometimes sliding right back to the dream. She was talking to a dark-skinned, gorgeous, yet unusual woman. She looked at her with pitch-black eyes, which seemed to see into her soul. Long black hair streamed down on her shoulders and back. As they talked, her gestures let the long sleeves, which were slit back to the elbow, slide back on her arms, letting the rest flow down freely. Her dress was made from some kind of darkness instead of solid cloth, fitting her perfect form in every way.

  Neila never thought that she was in any danger during their conversation, although she felt furious and betrayed about something. As if suddenly her worst fears had come to life—her life was meaningless and she held no control of it.

  Suddenly she heard a clinking noise, which drew her mind towards awakening again. But the dream was so strange and interesting, she wanted to spend a little bit more time in it. If she got out of bed in a mood like this, she would be glum all day long, which meant that she probably would argue with Halgor and the students.

  So she turned to her other side, snuggling into the blanket, and tried to go back to sleep. It was not a complete success, but she managed to cheat away time in that neither-asleep-nor-awake state. She still heard the noise around her, as if somebody else occupied her room. But she did not care because the blanket was warm, cuddling her almost lovingly, not wanting to let her go. Not that she would want to escape or anything …

  Neila sensed light through her closed eyelids, what meant that the Sun ran already high in the sky. Which also meant that she should probably get out of bed. Halgor was most certainly awake already, as always, after his breakfast and morning routine. At least, from the clinking of the plates, she came to this conclusion. She could hear a quiet discussion too, which she tried to dismiss from her mind, albeit it refused to obey. She listened, wanting to determine who spoke with whom. The words seemed unimportant, but the tone caught her attention.

  She knew that voice. It was not Halgor, however.

  The discovery caused a chill to run down her spine, filling her with fear.

  It’s Veilon! screamed her mind, which made every memory suddenly swarm her.

  Neila sat up suddenly, as if ice-cold water was poured down her neck. Panting heavily, she stared at the table across from her bed, where two people sat. The guests now also looked at her, frozen in their places, as if they did not want to scare her.

  The mage just gazed at them—at a man in dark clothing and a strange dragonman beside him. Then she finally recognised Veilon, which recalled her memories one by one: Indrek’s ruling in Nar, the danger against the Tower, Enargit’s finding, Cameron’s betrayal, the Move into the rainforest, Eteryon, and finally …

  “Lexénia …” she whispered under her breath as she became pale. This meant that her dream was not a dream at all, which made her even more pale.

  Veilon stepped to her immediately. The golden gaze followed his every move, although the intellect behind it wandered off somewhere. The paragon handed her a cup of hot tea. She lowered her gaze slowly to the cup, taking it even slower, then started to sip the beverage. Her eyes seemed foggy, although as she felt the hot drink sliding down her throat, she closed them with pleasure.

  When she finished, she rested the cup in her lap, feeling content. But when she glanced at herself, it struck her that she wore her nightgown. She widened her eyes in surprise because she could not recall when she changed.

  Her close friends knew that she liked to sleep in something comfortable, so whenever she could, she changed.

  “How …?” she asked, unsure about
the happenings, then she glanced back at Veilon. She turned deathly pale, then deep red, when her gaze met the kobold’s dark eyes.

  “It wasn’t me!” he cried out immediately, when he figured her thoughts, also blushing.

  He seemed so abashed, as never before. The kobold quickly grabbed the cup from Neila’s hands, looking everywhere but at her, then sat back in his place at the table. He started randomly munching some nuts.

  “How are you feeling?” Enargit asked Neila. His voice stammered a little, as if he was trying to hold back a laugh. Although it would not be much of a laughing matter if the ‘what if Veilon had changed her’ came to light.

  “Confused,” she answered, rubbing her temples. “What happened? How did I get back here? How much time has passed?”

  Enargit sighed in dismay, hearing the many questions.

  “Not counting the day of our departure and the travel to the tribal village, three days have passed,” he answered, which made Neila pale again. She opened her mouth, so the dragon quickly continued before she could say anything. “I assume that you remember when we entered into that hut and the Elders burnt something which gave that thick fog?” Enargit started. Neila nodded. “Well, that fog was used for us to get into some kind of trance, so we could meet with the Gods.”

  The mage narrowed her eyes hearing this. It was obvious from her look how much this fact bothered her. She stayed silent, waiting for the remaining.

  “Well, we two had spoken with them. You with Lexénia and me with the other three,” said Enargit; however, at this point she opened her mouth again to say something, so the dragon quickly continued. “I was sent back first, regaining my consciousness in the hut again. According to the tribals, I was not gone for long; it was the early afternoon. However, I could not find you. The tribals told me that Lexénia took your body as well. Why? Do not ask me that.” The Leader held up his hand, cutting in front of Neila’s questions, although she did not seem to burst with curiosity.

  “Anyhow, after a short rest, I picked up my subjects and the others, then came home. Lexénia also said that she would return you here, and she kept her word. We found you in some kind of deep sleep in your room when we arrived. On another note, we got two copies of that map on the wall. They said we will need them, so they prepared them for us. Veilon and I told everybody to keep this a secret, although my fellow dragons would not really know anything anyway.”

  Enargit finished, so fell silent. Neila obviously tried to comprehend everything she had just heard, putting the pieces together in order. Her golden gaze sparkled, as if real gold was heated. Then the fire disappeared, the metal cooled down, and her eyes became foggy.

  Enargit and Veilon, who watched her think, exchanged worried looks at this.

  The paragon almost broke the silence, when she glanced up straight at him. He froze.

  “I want to speak with Enargit,” announced the Master; it was pointless to argue. The Ruler blinked a few times in surprise, then glanced at the dragon, who shrugged. ‘Why not?’ his behaviour meant, so the dark mage left the room with a sigh.

  As the heavy wooden door closed behind him, he leaned against it and closed his eyes. He was way beyond the point of exhaustion, arriving to the one which meant he could collapse in any moment. He hardly slept or ate; worry prevented him from doing so. He truly cared about Neila and that foggy golden gaze scared him. Everything started to remind him of the Endgame in the Dragonwars, which made him shiver in fear.

  Even his knowledge of the future seemed to help less than little. Yes, he still knew things to come, but right now he would be more interested in the road leading to them. The only comforting thing in his life at that point was the fact that he knew everybody would be safe and sound at the end, whatever the future held for them.

  Or rather, Neila, because she jerks the strings around, he thought tiredly. He exhaled sharply as he slid to the ground to sit, albeit he was not aware of any of this.

  If he had learned anything from their visiting the tribals, it was how small he really was in any of the happenings. Regardless of how he tried, or how many rules he broke, nothing mattered. He gained no more control of anything, despite his best efforts. He damaged many relations, however, even his own.

  And for what? he asked himself bitterly. He gave up so many things. Was it worth it?

  His grim mood started to overwhelm him. He mused more and more about the ‘what ifs’.

  What if he could restrain himself back in the day, trying not to cross Neila or Halgor? Probably he would have stayed in Varomor, becoming even greater than he was now. But more possibly, Neila would be his. Fair and square. Maybe the Tower would not have had to move, or Indrek would not be interested in it. But even if these last two were to happen, it would be worth it. Because he would be with the one he chose.

  Veilon slid deeper and deeper into his thoughts, which seemed to become alive.

  If everything would have been more peaceful, Cameron would not have betrayed them, so Neila would not have broken. But even if that were to happen, she would have been in a more stable emotional state because she would have had him standing by her side through this. He would support her no matter what, so they could face whatever came. Together.

  And who knows, maybe there would be a third person in their lives who could also be there for her. Because of whom the mage would never give up and would do anything to stay as stable as possible, even though that person would be too young to understand the happenings.

  A picture appeared in Veilon’s mind which made him smile, unconscious of the fact that he did so. He saw himself bending forwards to pick up a small child who was running to him. He held him proudly as he watched him giggle, while he glanced at him with golden eyes …

  Abruptly, the door opened behind him which made Veilon startle awake as he fell on his back. His surprise could not be bigger as he stared up at Neila’s stunned look. He was lying on her feet, confused about what had happened.

  “Veilon … what are you doing …?” asked Neila, completely bewildered. Veilon frantically scrambled to his feet, then stood at the door stiffly.

  “Nothing!” he whimpered and looked everywhere but at her.

  Behind the Master, Enargit glanced at him too, obviously musing about what had happened. The kobold just clenched her jaws and said nothing.

  At the end, Neila sighed as she headed down without a word, followed by the dragon.

  Veilon joined them as they passed him, scolding at his stupidity. He understood what had happened, of course—he fell asleep, on his feet like a horse, even though he had sat down unconsciously. But before he could hit himself mentally further, a chill ran down his spine, jerking him back to the present. He glanced at his companions in front of him, who seemed strained. The air around them was buzzing with tension.

  He gained speed to catch up with the dragon.

  “Where are you going?” he asked quietly, so Neila would not hear them.

  “Indrek,” he answered firmly, which made Veilon become deathly pale.

  In his eyes this news was considered more serious than if Enargit had said that Varomor was under attack by Indrek with his armies. Now he really started to fear for her.

  “Wh … what?” he stammered.

  “You do not want to know …” murmured the Leader.

  Veilon opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. He walked silently behind his companions until they reached Agony and Talek’s room. Their door opened the same moment they passed.

  Neila did not even glance at Halgor standing in the door, staring at the three of them, surprised. He almost said something, but when Veilon arrived at the entrance, the kobold frantically tossed the elven back in the room, then stepping inside, closed the door behind him.

  Agony, Talek, and Halgor stared at him, completely stunned, as his eyes moved purposelessly around, showing that he was thinking hard. The friends waited for him to start. Knowing him, there would be no use asking why he was there.

&n
bsp; “What did you tell them?” Veilon glanced at Halgor, whose eyes flared at the tone, yet he did not snap back.

  “Basically everything. The tribal kobolds, the Gods, the map,” the elven answered firmly as he stood with folded arms. He looked as if he would accept any challenge about this if the kobold might not like it. But the paragon just nodded.

  “Good, I wanted to do the same if you hadn’t already.” He still looked as if he was thinking hard about something, which made the others uneasy.

  “Why are you here?” barked Halgor, who could not restrain himself any longer. Veilon glanced at him angrily.

  “Believe it or not, because I need your help. Neila wants to knock on Indrek’s door just now, so she left with Enargit.”

  Hearing this, Halgor immediately disappeared with a word.

  He found himself at the bottom of the Tower, right by the pool. He arrived just in time to see Neila and Enargit walking down the stairs. He stepped to the strolling Neila, grabbed her arm, then pulled her into the library to have a little privacy. Two apprentices were there, who stormed out when the elven ordered them to.

  “WHAT are you doing?!” he demanded from Neila, who remained disturbingly calm. Enargit stepped through the door, but one cold glance from the elven and he turned back. The dragon swayed his head as he stood guard in the door, showing his back to them.

  “What I should’ve done a long time ago,” answered Neila. “Why do you care?”

  “By the Gods, you really need to ask that? Really?!” snapped the elven hopelessly. He became more and more bitter by the moment.

  Neila just dropped her head and bit her lower lip. Halgor gently turned her head at him again, so she could look into his eyes.

  “Neila, why …?” he asked, almost begging. “Whatever you may believe, you are not the only one whose heart is aching! Who feels the sorrow because of Cameron, or the one who wants him back! Or who would need somebody at nights! But you don’t let me be with you. Why do you push me away? You know that I’d do anything for you …”