Fate of Thorik

by Anthony G. Wedgeworth

Thorik walked through the story with Ambrosius. “Are you saying that you pushed the head of the Mountain King up, causing it to crack at the neck in the first place?”

  “Yes, that is now my belief.”

  “Why would you do that?” Thorik questioned.

  “I thought it was falling down toward us. I was trying to save everyone.”

  “What made you think it was falling? Didn’t you say the quake started before you looked up?”

  Ambrosius thought again about his memories. “It was Darkmere’s disk. The gem in the center must have been enchanted with a spell of great illusions,” he realized. “It was on the table for all to see. All that needed to be said was the proper word for its spell to be cast on everyone present.”

  “What word?”

  “Blasphemy.”

  Thorik looked shocked. “Fir Beltrow?”

  Ambrosius nodded. “That is when the illusion started.”

  Brimmelle was not going to listen to them talk badly about a Fir such as Beltrow. “Impossible! No Fir would plan to kill others, let alone destroy his own temple and people. I don’t believe it,” he protested.

  “Nor do I, my friend. Nor do I.” Ambrosius’ words surprised Brimmelle as the E’rudite stroked his beard. “But that was the word that activated the enchantment. So, if he didn’t know, then someone else knew him well enough to gamble on him saying it.”

  The group thought about his comments as they launched off the sandy beach and continued across the lake. Grewen’s rowing provided a respectful speed across the sometimes choppy waters. However, this day was providing very little resistance to their travels and they soon began to see an ominous wall in the horizon.

  The Dovenar Wall paled in comparison to the structure before them rising out of the water. This new wall stood taller than the Mountain King Statue and bridged a distance of such great lengths that Thorik could only speculate on its size. It was as if the earth had been turned up on its end, protecting them from falling off the edge.

  Closing in on the great wall, they could see slight seams between the massive blocks stacked from deep below the water, and all the way up to the clouds. The sun worked its way into the clear water showing the seemingly unending depth of the wall.

  “What is it?” Thorik was in utter amazement.

  “This?” Ambrosius gazed at the overwhelming size of the structure with great respect. “This, my dear friend, is what allows us to exist. It gave birth to our land, and allows life to spring forth. This is Australis Weirfortus.”

  Confused, Thorik asked the obvious question, “How does this wall do all of that?”

  “It protects us. If this were not here we would have never been born, for there would not have been any land to be born to.”

  Thorik pushed for more clarification. “I don’t understand.”

  “This is not just a wall. It is a barrier that holds back the ocean from regaining this inlet which we call home. If this dam should break, a mountainous wave, thousands of feet high, would rush in and consume everything you have ever seen during your life time.” Ambrosius glimpsed at Thorik’s worried face. “And yes, that means Farbank as well.”

  “Who could build a mountain of stone blocks?” Thorik asked.

  “Notarians, along with the help of E’rudites, the Unday, Humans, and Nums. At one time they all worked together to create a paradise called Terra Australis, a few thousand feet below sea level. Weirfortus was built and the ocean waters were removed from the sea inlet to make way for fresh water and new life. But something in paradise went wrong and a battle ensued, killing most of the humans and Nums while leaving only a few E’rudites and Notarians.”

  Ambrosius stretched his back and continued. “The remaining Notarians are known today as the three Oracles; Ovlan the Great, Deleth the Dark, and Feshlan the Lost. But even they stayed at odds with each other, which is how the Altered Creatures took over Australis for thousands of years. Finally humans came into power, allowing for great strides in advancement. But they also began to fight amongst themselves as well as against the Del’Unday and Ov’Unday. It was at this time that the discovery of the Weirfortus water reservoirs was made. Shortly after that, one of the reservoirs was opened causing a great flood wiping out all coastal living.”

  Thorik opened his coffer to take notes. “The Civil War Flood?”

  “That is correct, Thorik. And that was only one reservoir. There are many more, and they continuously fill themselves back up while pulling the salt out of the ocean’s water.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Because after the flood, I was the one who found and then closed the Weirfortus reservoir doors.”

  “But why would Darkmere wish to flood the valley?”

  Ambrosius thought about the answer before giving it. “I have been asking myself that same question ever since we left port and I don’t think he would. I see no reason for him to destroy everything when he already removed the Council and myself from challenging his authority. But I do believe he will open at least one reservoir to raise the waters higher.”

  “How high?” Thorik asked.

  “Only to the top of the Dovenar walls,” Ambrosius answered. “Walls have two possible uses. To keep things out or keep them in.” The E’rudite stroked his beard as he spoke. “Disguised as the Terra King, he has scared men into believing that the Del’Unday are on the move. They have all returned home to take refuge behind their tall strong walls that surround Lake Luthralum. The water he releases from Weirfortus will fill in the human provinces, just like it did in River’s Edge at the end of the Civil War.”

  Thorik looked at Ambrosius in disbelief. “He means to kill all humans and Nums in one wave of water.”

  “I believe so,” Ambrosius confessed.

  “But won’t the water flow through the gates and flood the land beyond?”

  “Do you recall the armies of Del’Unday we saw north of Woodlen? They were preparing for an attack that they could not win. In hindsight, it is now obvious they had no intention of breaking through the Dovenar Wall. Only to launch an attack against it.”

  “Why?”

  “So the Woodlenders would close their solid doors to defend themselves. If Darkmere has set up a small attack at every gate, then I would assume that every one of them will be closed up tight at the time the wave strikes.”

  Thorik finished the thought. “Trapping in all the water as well as the people from escaping as the wave blankets the land.”

  Not a word was spoken for some time as everyone thought how it would affect their families, friends, and their world.

  They continued traveling north along the Weirfortus’ gigantic structure passing several plateaus that extended into the water in half-moon platforms. Hexagon stone tiles with engraved rune symbols covered the constructed landings, which supported two closed doorways. Each docking plateau looked the same and the group continued to pass them by until Gluic told them to stop once she felt a change in the wall’s energy. The group landed the boat along its thick tiles and got out to stretch their legs and backs after the long day.

  “I don’t think I will ever get onto another boat again.” Brimmelle complained as he groaned from his aches. He placed his hands at his hips and stretched as he reviewed the various rune symbols below his feet.

  Grewen glanced over at him and thought about how Brimmelle was fortunate enough to be able to stand and stretch while in the boat. “It’s a long swim home, little man.”

  Draq had already landed and rested, roosting on a long stone slab which spanned over both entrances into the Weirfortus Dam.

  Thorik started removing gear from the boat as Gluic and Avanda wandered off to explore the docking platform. He gazed up at the constructed stone cliff as it reached high into the sky and then back down toward the two closed stone doors. “Which one?”

  “I thought you were the one with all the answers,” Draq sarcastically stabbed from above.

  “Well, just because…” Thorik
began to defend himself while watching Ambrosius walk past him and approach the left doorway. Puffing up his chest, Thorik replied to the dragon’s comment with a grin. “This one,” he ordered, pointing toward the left door. Internally he was hoping Ambrosius wouldn’t change his mind.

  Grewen turned to Draq. “He’s our leader.” He held a straight face before cracking a smirk.

  Red-Tipped Silver Dragon was not impressed. Frustrated, he yelled at Brimmelle to get his mother before she fell into the lake as she reached out into the water to pet a passing fish.

  Thorik and Grewen had followed Ambrosius to the large smooth stone door. The doorway was covered with a row of hexagon tiles, each with a separate rune. The tile placement arched along the inside of the frame and several of them were missing.

  Thorik was confused as he watched Ambrosius search for a way to open the stone door. “I thought you had been here before.”

  Frustration filled Ambrosius’ expression. “Yes. It was a different reservoir, and the door was open at the time I arrived.”

  Grewen stepped over to investigate the second door. “If Gluic is accurate in saying this is the correct platform, then either Darkmere hasn’t arrived yet, or he figured out how to get in and then closed the entrance afterward,”

  “It’s about time we get the upper hand on him,” Thorik gladly commented.

  Ambrosius was not ready to join Thorik in his enthusiasm. “We don’t have anything on him yet. He managed to send a spy into the secret and hidden council meeting. He successfully baited me into attacking Pyrth to strike fear into the populace against me. And he knows my son is out of hiding. I can only hope this is not another trap. No, my friend, we do not have the upper hand yet.”

  Ambrosius continued searching. “It would appear that these tiles are about the same size as the ones you carry. Hand me one from your collection.”

  Thorik took out his sack of Runestones and looked inside it.

  Ambrosius answered Thorik’s question before he could utter it. “Any of them will do fine.”

  Thorik reached in, pulled one out, and looked at it briefly as he handed it to him. It was the Unity Runestone. Finding it appropriate for the situation Thorik smiled at the irony. “Who would have ever thought they would see Del’Unday, Ov’Unday, Nums and an E’rudite all working together?”

  Ambrosius began to place the stone in one of the missing tile locations. It looked like it was going to fit. He retracted his hand. “Yes, I think these will work. Now, we need to determine the correct order to place them in. Hopefully once all are in place the door will open.”

  “We have a problem,” Grewen announced. “This door already has all of its Runestones in place. So, if our presumption is correct, they have entered here and closed the door behind them.”

  Ambrosius realized that they may already be too late and the water could be entering the spillway at any moment. “Thorik, see if the Runestones are in the same sequence on that door frame,” he ordered with urgency in his voice.

  Thorik ran over and quickly had his answer. “They are completely different.” On his way back to Ambrosius, he looked into his full sack of flat Runestones. “We could just start trying them until it opens, although it may take some time.”

  Scratching his beard, the E’rudite’s eyes darted back and forth while contemplating the situation. “No, the wrong combination could cause this door to open with a wave of water behind it, or this entire platform may drop into the lake. I know not what traps lie within this. The same could be true if I force it open. I tread lightly on Notarian artifacts.” He raked his fingers through his hair as he tried to contain his emotions.

  Grewen returned to the first door and they all continued to gaze at the symbols hoping to see patterns of some type. Every second that passed could be the one that they needed to stop Darkmere’s plan. “Death is among us on this day,” the giant said to Ambrosius.

  “It is not like you to give up so easy, my old friend,” the E’rudite commented before he noticed Grewen gazing out onto the water. Following his line of sight, the rest of the group saw Grewen’s concern.

  Floating on the surface of the water, a lady stood motionless. She was covered in cloths made of shadows and mist, which evaporated as they drifted away from her. Dark smoky ashes gave depth to her body and face as she scowled at the group from behind her flowing dark gray hair made up entirely of burnt debris.

  “Irluk,” Ambrosius told them. “To see the Death Witch before a battle is a bad omen.” Looking at Thorik with concern, he added, “I saw her in the fog before the battle of Maegoth and again before the destruction of the council. There will be a battle here today, and death is certain.”

  Thorik watched the ghostly shadow of a woman fade away in the breeze, but her absence didn’t calm his nerves. A shiver ran down his spine and the hairs on his body stood on end. “Who will die today?”

  Ambrosius struggled with her image as well. Few have seen Irluk and lived to tell about it. He knew she was closing in on him, for he had seen her far too often. However, he needed to evade her just one more time.

  Gluic eyed the apparition. “You were once so beautiful. It’s such a shame what you became.”

  “Thorik, back to the doorway and the runes. This is your area of expertise. Tell us what to do!” Ambrosius snapped, as he ran his fingers through his hair again, nearly pulling handfuls out by the roots.

  Thorik racked his brain over the puzzle with no clear answer. He had inspected the runes in the tiles on the platform they stood on with no common series. “I don’t know!”

  “Quickly, Thorik. We have no time for this!”

  Guilt set in as the Num tried to determine the answer that Ambrosius demanded. “I’m sorry!”

  By this point, Brimmelle strolled up to them after settling his mother’s needs and glanced at the missing tiles. “Looks like you’re missing the Justice, Courage, Compassion and Harmony Runestones,” he said very matter of fact.

  The group turned in disbelief and looked at the hefty Num for an awkward moment.

  Abruptly, Ambrosius questioned his comment. “And what makes you say this?”

  Like always, Brimmelle didn’t appreciate being questioned, especially on Runestones. “The rest of them are in the same sequence as the ones outside the city of Kingsfoot.” Periodically, his natural ability to memorize everything he saw did come in handy. He had never been wrong with such things and did not like being questioned.

  For the first time, Ambrosius looked at the Fir with respect. “Thank you. I’m glad you came on this journey. Quickly Thorik, put them in place.”

  Reached into his bag and began pulling out the needed stones. It wasn’t long before he had all but one of them. And then it hit him. He had given the merchant in the Pyrth market one of his Runestones, but which one? She had selected one from his hand and the rest were quickly set back into the bag.

  Frantically he dug in his bag to find it. “Could I have traded the key to unlocking this door and saving the valley for a mere sack of fruit? What have I done?”

  “Thorik, please hurry,” Ambrosius ordered.

  Thorik dumped the bag on the ground, got down on all fours and began to separate them. “Please, Mountain King,” he prayed out loud. “I’ll never give out another of your sacred Runestones again. I’ll cherish them and protect them.” As the last word crossed his lips, he recovered the Runestone he needed. With a sigh of relief he solemnly thanked the King as he placed the stones where Brimmelle pointed.

  A low rumbling could be heard and felt in their feet. The group backed away from the doorway, cautious to the unknowns on the other side. Grinding rock moaned as the door slab slowly slid to the side. Ambrosius leaned forward to see the darkness from behind it. He held Thorik back from doing the same.

  A long granite corridor was exposed. It’s once polished floors and walls were now covered with dust and cobwebs. Carved symbols and unknown writing decorated the walls, which stood several shoulder lengths a
part.

  The E’rudite stepped forward and peered deeper into the passage. Stepping one foot inside, he waited for any potential trap or reaction. None emerged, so he stepped fully through the archway.

  A loud ground-shaking thud followed his entrance. Brimmelle jumped for cover. Thorik leaped in after Ambrosius to save him, startling the man from behind.

  Grewen stood calm. “It was the door completing its motion.”

  Ambrosius removed a common rock from his pocket and focused on it. Using his abilities, intense pressure was placed on it, causing it to glow. “If Darkmere is already here, time is against us. We must move with haste as well with caution.” Levitating the now luminous liquid rock in front of him as a light source, he began to head down the corridor.

  Thorik placed the other Runestones back in his bag and followed him. “Mixing fire and water would be easier.”

  Hunched over, Grewen was next to enter the doorway. Brimmelle waited for Grewen to slowly move forward as the giant’s body fit tightly into the available space.

  Thorik stopped and turned around as he lit a torch. “Grewen, do you need help?”

  “No, but don’t let me slow you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Ambrosius looked back at the giant Mognin scraping his shoulder blades across the ceiling. “If there is no time to wait for you, I will not. I would expect the same from you, my old friend.”

  Grewen nodded. “True enough. Get going.”

  With that, Thorik and Ambrosius raced up the long corridor.

  Chapter 33

  Del’Unday Ambush