The Mantle of Darkness: Whill of Agora Book 7: Legends of Agora

by Ploof,Michael James

  Zerafin nodded gravely.

  “O’ course ye’ll be returnin’,” Roakore chimed in.

  “Kellallea has told you what must be done, I assume?” said Zerafin.

  “Yes, I am to face Eldarian, and take the mantle of darkness as my own. Then…then I am to allow myself to be imprisoned as he was for all of eternity, so that the world does not fall into shadow. “

  “I commend you, Whill. Your bravery never ceases to amaze and inspire me. But tell me, why you? Has Kellallea restored your power?”

  “No, she hasn’t. I have restored it myself. Rather, I should say that I have discovered my true power.”

  Zerafin cocked a long eyebrow, intrigued.

  “I have the human power of old,” said Whill, and seeing that Zerafin knew not of what he spoke, he elaborated. “The humans of old had the ability to absorb the powers of the other races. I have attained the power of Roakore’s line—”

  “Which now be includin’ the ability to move anythin’ with me mind, since the blessin’ o’ the gods.”

  “Right,” said Whill. “I have also attained the power of the golden dragon of healing, Zalenlia, and Orna Catorna from Avriel, and spirit magic from a barbarian witch doctor called Gretzen Spiritbone.”

  Zerafin looked perplexed. “It seems that I have missed much. Tell me, why did Kellallea give to her the lost power? And why did Avriel accept?”

  “It was not due to Kellallea’s generosity. She has been using Avriel and the children against me to ensure that I play along.”

  “But why would she do that?” said Zerafin, not looking so much offended as hurt.

  “Because, she is not what she seems. This is the endgame of a plan she has been working on for thousands of years.”

  Whill went on to fill him in on all that had transpired since Zerafin left Agora. The telling took the better part of a half hour, and when he was done, the elf king was silent for many long moments.

  “It hurts my heart to hear such words spoken of the goddess,” said Zerafin at length. “But your story rings with the sound of truth. Many things are much clearer to me now. I feel a fool for not having seen it.”

  “How could anyone have guessed her true intentions?” said Whill, and then to all their minds, added. She is diabolical. I’m just glad that I never swore fealty to her, else I would have no hope in defeating her and thwarting her plans.

  Zerafin regarded him with a knowing glance when Whill spoke to his mind. You have found a way?

  No, said Whill. But I believe there is a way. There is always a way.

  Ye be godsdamned right. Like me pa used to say. Light, love, and goodness always finds a way to defeat evil, said Roakore with much bluster before tossing back the rest of his drink.

  “He sounds like a smart dwarf,” said Zerafin kindly. “As is his son. You are a good friend, to follow Whill on this perilous quest.”

  “Bah, ain’t so perilous. And I got other reasons o’ me own. After all this be said and done with, I intend on resettlin’ the ancient mountain o’ me king, Ky’Dren.”

  “Interesting,” said Zerafin, and Whill could not tell if the elf thought it a good idea or not.

  “This mountain that Kellallea said you would take me to,” said Whill. “Is it far?”

  Zerafin nodded slowly. “It is far, and the path is fraught with danger.”

  “Good, then it ain’t goin’ to be a long and borin’ journey!” said Roakore.

  The group shared a laugh. “No, good dwarf, it will not be boring,” said Zerafin. “Strange creatures roam the land, remnants of Eadon’s dark experiments. The land was ravaged by the dark elves and their creations these last five hundred years. The wildlife has been decimated, and the flora and fauna have changed. The trees are different as well. Gone are the great oaks, pines, and forests of green. They have been replaced by these strange, sickly trees. The land cannot sustain us, so we have remained here by the coast.”

  “And Kellallea does nothing to heal the land,” Whill noted.

  “She promised that after I led you to Eldarian, she would use her power to restore Drindellia, but after hearing your story, I doubt that she intends to keep that promise.”

  “Unless there be somethin’ in it for her,” said Roakore. “What ye thinkin’ she be intendin’ to do once ye’ve freed Eldarian?” he asked Whill.

  Whill considered the question, realizing that he hadn’t even considered what her plans might be, so caught up was he with his own circumstances.

  “Who’s to say? I assume that once the prison has been reinforced, she will take on a stance of nonintervention, as was the pact of the gods that created the prison in the first place.”

  “Then she will do nothing,” said Zerafin. To Whill, he looked tired, defeated. “There truly is no hope for our homeland.”

  “We don’t know that,” said Whill. “Have you traveled far? Have you seen the lay of the land? Drindellia is vast. Surely there is a place yet untouched by Eadon’s dark stain.”

  “Perhaps,” said Zerafin. “Perhaps.”

  There came a knock on the door, and Zerafin called them to enter. When he saw Azzeal walk through the door, the elf king shot to his feet and rushed to embrace his friend like a brother.

  “My king,” said Azzeal, patting his back.

  “King? I am first and foremost your friend, good Azzeal,” said Zerafin. “It is good to see you restored to health.”

  Lunara, Ragnar, Raene, and Arrianna entered the hut, followed by Gretzen, who was so tall that even with her hunch, she had to duck a bit to get through the threshold.

  “Lunara!” said Zerafin, greeting her with a hug and looking to the others.

  “Zerafin,” said Whill, extending an arm to them all. “I give to you Arrianna, queen of Ro’Sar, Ragnar Hillman, Raene the Goldenheart, and Gretzen Spiritbone.”

  Zerafin perked at the name and glanced at Azzeal. “The Gretzen Spiritbone, from your archive of the Windwalker?”

  “One and the same,” said Gretzen, extending a hand, which Zerafin shook.

  “I am gladdened to know that you still live,” said Zerafin before greeting Raene, Arrianna, and Ragnar as well.

  When everyone had become acquainted, the group moved from Zerafin’s abode to the more accommodating hall near the unfinished pyramid.

  They dined on fish and seaweed and drank from a keg supplied by Roakore. Many stories were told to Zerafin that night, as each of the companions had a different tale to tell of the war for the north and the fight against the dragons of Drakkar.

  Plans were made for the long journey, and though Roakore was adamant about the dwarven forces accompanying them the whole way, Whill convinced him that there just wasn’t enough time.

  “The winter solstice fast approaches. If we are to make it to the mountain before Eldarian breaks free, then we need to travel as the dragon flies,” said Whill.

  “I done brought me warriors with me for a reason,” said Roakore.

  “Yes, to reclaim Ky’Dren’s mountain. They will not be needed in the fight against Eldarian.”

  “Don’t be tryin’ to convince us that ye need to be goin’ it alone.”

  “I know better than to try to dissuade you,” said Whill and looked to the others. “But only those with power need accompany me. I apologize, Arrianna, Azzeal, and Lunara, but you will only be a liability.”

  “I understand,” said Azzeal.

  “I would have you rule over our small village in my stead,” said Zerafin.

  “I would be honored.”

  “I’m going with you. I promised Avriel,” said Lunara.

  “I’m sorry,” said Whill. “I will not put you in danger.”

  “I have made a promise, and I will not break it,” she said defiantly.

  “Gretzen has spirit magic, Roakore and Raene have been blessed by the dwarven gods, Ragnar has a power that few understand, and Zerafin is to be our guide.”

  “And I have nothing to offer?”

  “I didn’t s
ay that,” said Whill.

  “You might as well have. There is more to people’s worth than their magical abilities. You should know this.”

  Whill sighed, feeling bad for his words. “I’m just trying to protect you.”

  “I am flattered,” said Lunara, “but you are not the only one who will be affected by Eldarian should he break free of his prison. We all have a right to help if it is in our minds to do so.”

  “Very well,” said Whill. “We have wasted enough time with talk. Let us prepare.”

  Chapter 34

  Eastward!

  The dwarves didn’t take the news that they would be staying behind with the elves well, but in the end Roakore got them under control and promised that he would return to lead them to Velk’Har.

  “It don’t feel right, not goin’ with ye,” said Philo when they were away from the others.

  Roakore glanced over at Arrianna, who was violently packing one of his traveling bags with extra rations of dried meat, cheese, and rum. “Ye ain’t the only one. But it be necessary; there ain’t no time to be marchin’ there. We be flyin’, and I know ye got yer own silver hawk, but I be needin’ ye to watch over things here until I be gettin’ back.” He eyed the dwarves warily, knowing that it would not be easy for them living with the elves. “Settle them cliffs south o’ here. Put a few miles between yerselves and the elves. I ain’t for tolerating no trouble while I be gone.”

  “Yes, me king,” said Philo, slamming his fist to his chest and bowing low.

  “And it ain’t just a camp I want ye be settin’ up. It be the first dwarven outpost o’ Drindellia.”

  “Aye, me king. Ye can count on me.”

  “I know I can, me friend.”

  “May the gods be with ye,” said Philo, slamming his fist to his chest.

  “And with ye, me friend.”

  Philo left it at that, and Roakore went back to saddling Silverwind. It wasn’t two minutes before Arrianna was standing behind him, arms folded over her large bosom and a sour look on her face.

  “Now don’t ye be startin’ in,” Roakore warned.

  “This ain’t how things was supposed to be goin’. I didn’t come here to live with elves.”

  “See, now ye be startin’ in,” said Roakore, tightening the straps and doing his best to ignore her.

  Arrianna grabbed ahold of his shoulder with surprising strength and spun him around. “Don’t ignore me!”

  “This ain’t about yerself! And ye be right. This ain’t why ye came along. Ye done come along to help reclaim the mountain o’ Ky’Dren, and ye be doin’ it. As soon as I get back, we be settin’ out. Together we be leadin’ our dwarves to the homeland. All I ask for is some godsdamned patience!”

  Arrianna was taken aback by Roakore’s tone, and others nearby glanced at the two, trying not to look as though they were eavesdropping. The hurt look left her face suddenly, and a quiet resolve replaced it. “Ye come back to me in one piece, ye hear?”

  “Yes, me love.”

  They hugged, and Arrianna laid a soft kiss on each of his cheeks. Without another word, she left him. Ragnar approached, having been giving the couple their privacy during such a tender moment.

  “Aye, King Roakore. Whill says that I’ll be flying with you.”

  “He does, does he?” said Roakore, eyeing him with a scowl. He knew the rumors about the human with the power of the dwarves, and he didn’t like the implications one bit. “Why that be, eh?”

  “Zorriaz can carry three, Whill, Gretzen, and Lunara. The elf Zerafin will be riding with Raene, which leaves you and I.”

  Roakore looked the stout man up and down and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Grab yer damned things.”

  “I’ve got them here.”

  “Then load ‘em up!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Roakore gave a frustrated sigh and trudged over to Whill, who was helping Gretzen up into Zorriaz’s saddle.

  “What be the meanin’ o’ pairin’ me with the…the…with yer new pet?”

  “Who, Ragnar?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me.”

  “What’s wrong with him riding with you? Can’t Silverwind hold the weight of you both?”

  “Well o’ course she can. This ain’t about that!”

  “He’s a good person,” said Whill, checking the straps of the large saddle one last time. “Give him a chance.”

  Roakore eyed him dangerously. “He be an abomination, havin’ the power o’ the blessed.”

  Whill sighed. “He’s not any more an abomination than my own children are. Do you have something against them as well?”

  “They be half human and half…” Realization struck Roakore, and he looked as though he had been slapped with a dead fish. His face blanched, and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Ye sayin’ the rumors be true? That be blasphemous!”

  “Is it, Roakore?” said Whill, squaring on him. “And what makes him any different than Abe and Arra?”

  “It…well…they…and he…bah!” Roakore threw up his hands and stormed off back to Silverwind.

  “He’s a good person, Roakore,” Whill called after him. “Try listening to his story, and you might have a change of heart.”

  “Ready to give those dragons a what for?” said Raene as Roakore passed.

  He gave a grunt and stomped over to Ragnar.

  The human stared back, and Roakore looked him over, angered even more by his figure, which resembled a dwarf’s, if not much taller. “Well then. Get on the damned bird,” he said, and Ragnar gave a nod before deftly climbing up into the saddle, which had been converted to seat two long ago, given Arrianna’s love of flying.

  We’ll see how the bastard takes to flyin’, thought Roakore as he climbed on and strapped himself in. He didn’t bother telling Ragnar to do so, but it seemed that the man had figured it out on his own.

  Roakore slapped the reins, and Silverwind leapt into the air, followed by Zorriaz and Raene’s mount. And while the other silver hawk and dragon leveled out not far from the ground, Roakore continued to climb, spurring Silverwind higher and higher still. She had ridden with Roakore and new riders enough to know his mind, and gave a soft, happy chirrup before spinning into a barrel roll. She leveled out, only to drop from the sky with wings tucked. Ragnar gave a howl, but to Roakore’s disappointment, it was one of joy, rather than terror.

  “This is amazing!” he cried out into the wind.

  Roakore grit his teeth and tightened his grip on the saddle horn. He pulled up on the reins, and Silverwind leveled out and quickly steered skyward, spinning as she went. Still Ragnar cheered.

  “Bah!” said Roakore against the wind. He leveled out and found Whill and the others flying far below.

  “By the gods!” said Ragnar behind him, panting. “That was amazing.”

  Roakore said not a word, but steered Silverwind in line with the others. Whill gave him a wry grin from Zorriaz’s saddle, and Roakore had a mind to give him a thumbs up—the rudest dwarven gesture.

  Instead he settled in for a long flight, focusing his frustrations and anger on the dragons who had holed up in Ky’Dren’s mountain homeland.

  The group traveled east until nightfall and finally landed for the night on a rocky outcropping at the top of a long ridge overlooking a twisted and mangled forest. Whill dismounted and stretched, while Roakore went immediately to scouting the perimeter.

  They set up camp and started a fire with what dried wood they could find.

  “This place has many ghosts,” said Gretzen, glancing at Whill. “Can you feel them?”

  Whill hadn’t used Gretzen’s power since Drakkar Island; indeed, he was hesitant to use it, for it frightened him to meddle with the spirits. He had never as a boy given much credence to people’s tales of ghostly sightings, having not wanted to acknowledge their existence, thinking that if he ignored them, they would ignore him. He had never wanted to be able to see or sense them, but now they were hard to ignore. Gretzen’s remind
er to him had sparked his ability. He now saw hundreds of lingering ghosts down below in the valley and around the ridge of a far-off canyon, which on closer inspection he discovered to be a massive crater long since created, teeming with that strange, crawling red fern vine.

  “Yes, I can see them,” said Whill.

  “Good, but be sure that is all you do with them,” said Gretzen. “Do not speak to them, and if they come around, do not acknowledge them. Being seen gives them more power in the material world, and they will haunt you like a pesky dog waiting to be thrown dinner scraps.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” said Whill, trying to ignore the ghost of a long dead elf standing behind her. Whill sat across from Gretzen on a stone shelf, and to his surprise, five round stones rolled up and spread out around the fire before coming to rest.

  “There, that be better,” said Raene before plopping down on her chosen rock and fishing through her pack.

  Zerafin, Lunara, and Ragnar took seats on the stones around the fire as Raene produced a bundle of cloth and grinned happily. She suddenly noticed everyone’s attention on her and continued to unwrap the bundle, more slowly this time. “Now I don’t mind sharin’, but ye best have somethin’ to be sharin’.”

  Her treasure proved to be mussels from the elven village. She plopped them in a pot, added a few cups of fluid from her water skin, and placed the pot on the rocks surrounding the fire.

  “Shouldn’t you be more careful about water usage?” said Ragnar, who was chewing on a piece of dried meat from his own sack. He eyed the mussels and then Raene, and offered her his meat stick.

  Raene took it and bit off half before handing it back to him. “We ain’t needin’ to worry about water, even though the rivers and streams look like a dwargon took a big dump in ‘em. There be water in the ground, pure as spring dew atop the mountain. Look here.” She rubbed her hands together and dug a small pit at her feet. She then placed her hands in the air over the earthen bowl and closed her eyes.

  Zerafin nodded to himself, knowing what she was attempting, and Gretzen too gave a knowing glance. Ragnar watched, intrigued, as Raene sat there, unmoving and silent. He chewed his dried meat and glanced around at the others. He was about to speak when a gurgle issued from the pit. Ragnar leaned in and looked closer, grinning to see the bowl swiftly filling with water.