Light of the Dark

by N. Saraven

  Not even Indrek could find out whether these tales contained the slightest truth or not, and he had the biggest spy-net. He was not particularly interested in mages or their castes, but he had heard of Varomor, which caught his attention. However, he could not get anybody to talk.

  Seemingly nobody knew anything else but the stories, in different variations. Some said that these were only nice stories; others believed that a kinwa was behind all of it, or an unwanted, untalented person, whose dreams were crushed too many times by mages.

  Interestingly, not even Indrek thought that the mysterious neighbour of his city could be related to the legends about Varomor, even though they slightly appeared at the same time. But to prove the Tower’s existence, he only had to walk to the roof. He could not find anything about the stories. Not even the source, or a story about their source …

  Indrek had always hated kinwa-tales, as he called these kinds of untraceable legends, so he got bored with them after a while. He let Varomor go, thinking that it truly was just a good story. He set his attention to the Tower of Mysteries instead, which he wanted more and more as time passed.

  But now, when one of the strongest mages recalled the dark castes, the shadow dragon started to listen intently. He always loved to know the unknown, so he became excited and curious.

  “Well, the Tower is Varomor,” announced Neila with a shrug, which made Indrek drop his mouth. Seeing this, she gave a faint, sad smile. “So, will you accept my proposal?” she asked, eyeing the other searchingly.

  “I need to think this through,” replied the Ruler quietly.

  “You have until we leave. I want an answer now,” said Neila softly yet firmly, which made Indrek twist his mouth.

  “All right, I am thinking about it now. And while I am doing that, may I ask something?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Did Cameron live there, in Varomor, with you?”

  Neila became stunned and pale, as if she were slapped on the face. The cursed dragon could not hide his contented smile at this.

  “Yes,” arrived the hoarse answer.

  “Hmm …” murmured Indrek, albeit he let the matter go.

  The Ruler obviously mused on the alliance: would it be worth it or not, what could he gain, how could he make demands in his favour, and so on.

  Neila sensed some kind of a trap behind this whole situation, yet at the moment she could not concentrate on anything but Cameron. The Ruler’s stunned reaction struck her now.

  Why had the bright dragon said nothing? Why was he not tortured to the point where he would rather tell even what he did not know, just to end the pain? And furthermore, right now, in this meeting, why was he not present? It would be a blow to her, a serious one at that. So why did Indrek choose otherwise? He would gain a lot from a complex situation like that.

  Yet he did not even mention the bright until now.

  A knock broke the silence, bringing Neila back to the present. It sounded more like a scratch on the door, so she watched intently.

  Another scÿta stepped in, a wraith, but something seemed different about him. He whispered shortly to Talon, who then left, leaving the other one behind to guard the door. The newcomer took the post as if he were the one there from the beginning.

  He scouted the room—first Indrek, to make sure everything was all right with the Ruler. But the dragon was so lost in thought that he did not even glance up when the change happened. The wraith then looked at Enargit. Not even a wince of his eyes showed that he was surprised to see such a creature.

  Then he turned to Neila, who felt as if she were struck by lightning.

  The Master had watched the scÿta closely since he arrived because she knew him from somewhere. She had an excellent facial-memory, which served her great so far. Yet now she could not locate where they had met before.

  Until he looked directly into her eyes.

  Neila froze in her seat, although she tried with extreme difficulty to conceal it. She would never want Indrek to find out that she recognised one of his scÿta. He too seemed to stand calmly at the door, staring outside the window as if she were just another guest. But the mage knew he must have felt something of a surprise.

  Carus … Her mind screamed his name. She clenched her jaws to restrain herself. Her heart wanted to break through her chest as it felt she could hardly control her breathing. She stared at the still-thinking Indrek, although her gaze looked far off.

  She could not let the fact slip her mind that her father’s old apprentice stood there as the most feared enemy. With whom she fought through the second and third Dragonwars. Who had a young man’s crush on her and, because of it, whom she had to lecture a few times. Who tried to prove himself to Cameron, to all of the companions, that not all wraiths were the same. Who refused their invitation to Varomor, which was unheard of until then.

  Neila never knew what happened to him afterwards. Although she was completely stunned by his presence there, she was not at all surprised by how powerful he had become. She glanced at him shortly, which still proved to be enough to have a chill run down her spine.

  The man who stood guard was obviously dangerous, and she would never cross him intentionally if she had a choice. He stood tall, folding his arms behind his back. His gaze seemed far away, yet she knew that his other senses gave him enough information. His calm features never changed—not even when he recognised her, of that she was sure. He seemed indestructible, who would act swiftly and cool-headed in every situation.

  He tied back his shoulder-length, white hair; his pale skin showed a hard life—a few scars here and there, which could not or would not be healed by magic. His body became a strong warrior’s body, even though he remained lean. His deep-red, thick tunic only emphasised his pale skin. He wore knee-high boots, in which he tucked his black trousers. Many blades hung from his wide belt.

  Although his clothing did not really seem warm, they must have been, because Neila knew that he never could handle cold. Or he learned to dismiss it, which would have made him an even more formidable enemy.

  Neila had no idea whether he remained a friend or not. They did not part as one many circles ago, and he had clearly created a new life.

  He’s become a scÿta. How? What did he do …? Neila mused, as she slowly sipped her drink. However, her hand shook a little, which she desperately tried to hide from Indrek. Especially since the cursed dragon looked up at her.

  “So?” she asked, seemingly calm.

  “I cannot deny that this is a tempting opportunity. But … I want a real alliance,” replied the Ruler firmly, which made Neila raise a brow questioningly.

  “What do you propose?”

  “Beyond the fact that the two parties will leave each other at peace, I would also like us to work together in other ways.”

  “Like what?” asked Neila, who seemingly started to become annoyed. She did not like the proposal so far.

  “Mutual truce, of course, and if one of us was under attack, the other must help. Of course, if one of us starts the war, it will not apply. Furthermore, information exchange.”

  Neila snorted.

  “Don’t be such a fool. I will never agree to these,” she snapped. “You would gain much more than me.”

  “These are my terms.” Indrek shrugged calmly, then poured another cup of drink for himself. Neila regarded him as if she wanted to swallow him whole.

  “Why?” she asked, which made the Ruler chuckle.

  “Are you seriously asking that? You moved to an unknown terrain, to the other side of the Anaca-lake, if my information is correct. Of course, I want that knowledge for myself. For the other reason, I think it is self-explanatory.”

  “Unless YOU trick the other side with a clever little plan, making them seemingly start a war, yet it was you.”

  “You really think that I would do such a thing?” Indrek gave a little laugh.

  “Even worse,” barked Neila, whose gaze started to fade away.

  Enargit turned his
attention to her immediately at this. The dragon felt her change somehow, felt the power starting to whirl around her. The force slowly became stronger and stronger, as if they were feeding off something inside her. The Leader glanced at Indrek, who did not seem to mind what was happening. Either he did not feel anything, or dismissed it completely.

  Unlike Enargit, who felt more and more worried. The emerging power seemed just like the one when she confronted Setal.

  “This is very flattering.” Indrek smiled. “But I stand behind my terms.”

  Hearing this, Neila gave an annoyed sigh as she stood up. Her gaze lost all consciousness; nothing of her actual mind remained in it. She spoke further with an empty voice, which made even Indrek confused. He too jumped to his feet, uneasy. Even Carus turned to her. The change in her happened from one moment to another.

  “I am nobody’s fool to participate in such children’s plays,” the Master announced. “The original proposal was this: you will not attack Varomor, and I will also let you in peace. You either agree to it, or I will destroy your precious little Empire, with you in it! My problem goes away either way …”

  Indrek became pale. Nobody had ever spoken with him like this before. Yet instead of bursting out in rage, he just swallowed. Something prevented him from talking. He stared at Neila, completely stunned.

  He became afraid of her, it struck him. That person before him was somebody who knew no mercy, nor deals of any kind. The power which now swirled around her like a tornado reminded him of Setal, which made him shiver. An ice-cold chill ran up and down his spine.

  Indrek glanced at Enargit, who watched Neila closely. He only showed worry and concern for her, seemingly not interested in the meeting itself at all. He said nothing this whole time, and probably would not until they left.

  The Ruler felt utterly stunned by the situation. He understood nothing. He thought he had everything under control, albeit nothing could be further from the truth. He proved to be a small player in the happenings. The cursed dragon looked into that lifeless golden gaze that stared at him without blinking. But now it narrowed a little, signing that she still waited for an answer.

  Indrek needed to make a decision, and fast. He felt the sweat streaming down his back. What was more important to him—his Empire or the alliance?

  It was not much of a choice.

  “Do you agree to my terms?” Neila asked again. The dragon dropped his head.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  The Master needed only this. She started for the door without any further ado, where Carus still stood. But one look from those empty golden eyes proved to be enough for the wraith to stand aside.

  The companions left as they had arrived, without any trouble. Nobody tried to stop them, or even made them slow down.

  As Enargit took off, he mused upon what had happened in the study. Yes, their mission was a success, but somehow he felt the opposite. It would be too good to be true, so it probably was not. However, he was not worried about a scheme made up by Indrek. He became troubled by something much closer to him, and way more powerful. Something in whom a dam put in by the Gods just broke down.

  The Leader could not stop thinking about what would happen if all that power was set loose …

  34. Dark plans

  Lexénia leaned closer to the water in the fountain. Until that point she watched the sleeping Neila, whom she had just returned to Varomor. The Goddess could recall any vision in her fountain, which was made of pitch-black stones and water. This fountain, all of these fountains, represented their homes, at least, what they liked to call that.

  Around her lay a similar landscape as when she met with the Chosen Ones. But her fountain seemed as if it were not solid at all, more like something dark behaving like solid. Just around that structure lay barren ground because nothing could survive the Goddess’ presence. What she made by her powers did the same, bringing ruin and death to anything close to them. Just like the dark mist that surrounded her. The only exceptions were the plants around Setal, if they stood side by side.

  Lexénia accepted her role a long time ago, although it proved very difficult to do so.

  Many, many circles ago, on their Home planet, she enjoyed studying about anything. Her thirst for knowledge seemed endless, especially in a particular subject which turned out to be a Taboo. Yet she could never really just leave it behind, even after she was instructed to. It filled her mind, drawing her towards it like a moth to a flame. But she could never raise her questions out loud. She learned that the hard way …

  Once, when she struggled to let a specific question go, the Sentinel started to watch her closely. Then, when it felt that she was out of line, it instructed the Sunleaders to take action. So they did, and they had a long, long conversation with her. During this, Lexénia realised that if she wanted to survive the system, she needed to change her methods of researching. So she gave in, seemingly let the Taboo go, and lived a perfect life.

  Until she heard about Setal’s arrest.

  Until that point she only wanted to answer some questions through thorough examinations, monitoring things around her—lives, behaviours, everything. She had a keen observation skill-set, which proved to be very useful. Yet not even close to enough.

  So when Setal was stolen from the Sunleaders, she used all of her resources to find those three. When she finally did, she felt that she belonged, that she had found what she needed and was looking for.

  Although the others at first became more than frightened when she appeared in their lair. Yet they let her tag along in their exile with almost no questions, which she gladly accepted. She never thought that any of them regretted that decision since then. They all needed to start over, which they could hardly wait to do.

  Lexénia was eager to research whatever she wanted, alongside a few who wanted the same. But unlike them, she could never actually create. She wanted to study Life, how it could be created from lifeless parts, yet she could not. Everything—plants, fungi, animals, others—all became dead soon after she started to work on them. Nothing could tolerate her direct, unaltered presence inside them.

  Only Death and Ruin surrounded her, which made her sad beyond imagination.

  Lexénia took a deep breath as she returned to the present. She glanced into the water again, but Neila still slept peacefully. So she sighed, musing further, as she waited for something to happen.

  She would never forget the hopelessness which filled her heart when she finally realised that she made everything perish. In all her life she served Life, to prevent anything what could cause harm to others. So this irony of Life seemed truly unfair, which almost broke her soul. She burst into tears many times when she poured her heart to Arisha. She was always there for her, comforting her when needed. Albeit she and the others had never looked very surprised about this whole situation.

  The three of them could also not create Life from pure particles, but they could work further on a specimen, changing them as they pleased. Yet after a certain point, they too were destined for failure. They could not understand why at first, then Yverion came up with the idea that after a cataclysm, Life would emerge stronger than before. Nature could only truly renew itself after a catastrophe. Without Death, there could be no Life.

  So it made sense that one of them should represent Ruin. But why Lexénia had to be that one she could never work out. She tried and tried to defy it, took specimen after specimen just to prove the others wrong. She wanted to create something, to show that they were wrong.

  Lexénia covered her face with a hand as she remembered that Final Moment that made everything crystal clear.

  One time, when another creature reached its inevitable death between her hands, it suddenly struck her that she enjoyed its misery. She did not want to acknowledge her feelings at first, however. How evil could a creature be if it enjoyed another one’s death? What else could a creature like that be than pure evil?

  Then she started to think about that word—evil. What did th
at mean exactly? If some animal eats another, it may be considered evil in the eyes of the prey, but was it? If a plant or fungus lived a parasitic life, was it evil?

  Not to mention themselves, who also consumed other living creatures to maintain their own existence.

  As far as they knew of the history of their planet, their Home was an uninhabited, lifeless chunk of rock in space at one time. Which meant that it was ruled by barren terrains and natural forces. Nothing ever happened, just erosion, a crumble of mountains into pebbles, cracking, or flooding, as the forces collided. However, without all of this, Life could have never taken root when it finally arrived, allegedly from somewhere else.

  Finally, after many discussions, Lexénia accepted her role. She represented Death, which seemed to be the ground of everything else in the universe. Life could not really create another Life without Death and Elimination.

  On the other side of things, after Ruin, Life always emerged.

  So Lexénia came to think that Death could be the most important of all.

  From that moment, she never tried to deny her true nature. She proudly wore the name Goddess of Death when the four of them wanted to choose a direction for themselves. So they became specialists in that subject, and nobody saw the other ones as wrong, or inappropriate, or anything bad.

  Lexénia could not have felt happier when her friends acknowledged her exactly as she was, without judging. When she no longer had to hide her thoughts and intentions. When she could do as she pleased, breaking through anything that came along. With pleasure.

  Everything had found its place in her head when she finally accepted herself. She felt utterly happy and content. She burst into laughter when she could ruin somebody else’s plans, tearing down something they made. She challenged them constantly by doing so, so finally the four of them agreed to create a whole, living world to test which side was stronger.

  After they found this world, which was a version of another they visited before, they divided it amidst themselves. Then they brought living creatures from elsewhere, changing them as they pleased—or, in Lexénia’s case, trying to tempt them with things to see what they would do.