“Kyrga and Brennus have been captured,” answered General Hartz. “Brennus was found in the crowd out front. Kyrga was found cowering in the Temple of Balmak in the city. I do not know the whereabouts of Lord Kommoron.”
“There is no need to search for him,” stated Taerin. “Lord Zachary discovered his frozen body in the deep closet in the next room. My father’s body is in there as well.”
“It appears,” offered Lord Zachary, “that the black-cloak decided that he didn’t need Lord Kommoron any more. No one else knew that he was merely portraying Emperor Jaar, not even Kyrga. He thought he could just live out his days as the emperor.”
“He hadn’t counted on General Forshire and his A Corps,” nodded Taerin.
“Taerin,” General Hartz interjected, “I would like to bring something to your attention regarding the fighting today. I know most everyone in the Federation looked upon the A Corps as a bunch of misfits, but they performed superbly today. If it were not for them, we would have lost the palace. The same number of my own 3rd Corps could not have done what they accomplished. I think the record should honor them for their skills and their sacrifices.”
“And so it will,” smiled Taerin. “And I will absolve every member of the A Corps of their past crimes. They may either be freely released from their service commitment or be allowed transfers into the Baroukan army, whichever they desire.” Colonel Donil grinned broadly, but the future emperor was not done. “General Hartz, you are about to lose a valuable member of your team. You will need a new colonel to handle the security of the Imperial Palace and work closely with the emperor. I would urge you to consider Colonel Donil for that position if he desires it. I know him to be an intelligent and loyal man who can hold a confidence when secrecy is required.”
“There could be no better recommendation as far as I am concerned,” nodded General Hartz. “It shall be done.”
“What of the Federation, Taerin?” asked Lord Kimner. “Will you walk in the footsteps of your father or your grandfather?”
“Neither,” answered Taerin. “The Federation is dead, and it will remain so. What I would like to see in its place is a series of trade agreements with individual countries. Perhaps over time we will once again evolve into some kind of an organization of equal countries, but it will never again be a military alliance. I could use some expert help with that, Lord Kimner. You served my grandfather well, and I would like your counsel.”
“Then you shall have it,” promised the old lord. “What of the elves?”
Taerin frowned as he glanced at Prince Saratoma. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “We have wronged the elves for far too long. I am tempted to cede the Elfwoods to them, but there are problems in doing so. Barouk will still need access to the mines of the Badlands. Perhaps we can sit down and discuss what the elves see as a reasonable solution.”
“I cannot speak for King Elengal,” replied Prince Saratoma, “but I would like my people to leave the Elfwoods. There are far too many bad memories there for relations between our peoples to recover quickly, although my goal would be for that to eventually happen.”
“Where would you go?” asked Kalina.
“Somewhere where we can live as a free people,” answered Prince Saratoma. “We will always owe allegiance to Valon, but we will allow no others to rule over us.”
“I think a meeting between the emperor and the elves is a necessity,” stated Garth, “but there is no emperor at present. With the discovery of Lord Kommoron’s body, there is no longer an impediment to a coronation. Have you given thought to the coming arrival of King Arik, Taerin?”
“Some,” frowned Taerin. “I am not sure what the Alcean king will demand of us, but I have been told that he is a fair man. The Empire of Barouk will offer whatever he wants as long as we are able to provide it.”
“He wants peace,” smiled Clint, “and it is within your power to provide it. I think Garth was asking if you wanted King Arik here for your coronation.”
Taerin smiled and nodded. “I would be honored to have him here for the ceremony. I will hold off on the coronation to make it possible for him to attend.”
“That will not be necessary,” replied Kalina. “Set the time for your ceremony and he will be here.”
* * * *
The mages gathered around the mound of blood red sand that sat amidst the barren plain. In the center of the mound was a shiny black staff, and Fakir Aziz pointed at it. Sparks flew from his fingertips, and letters suddenly appeared down the length of the staff. The letters spelled out, “Sands of Eternity”. With a flick of the Mage’s wrist, the staff turned to stone.
“A fitting end to a desert wasteland,” remarked Atule as he gazed around at the barren land that had been uncovered. “Will the land of Sirocca ever flourish again?”
Fakir Aziz smiled and nodded. “The seeds are dormant, but the rains will renew them. Within a season the land will be bountiful once again.”
“We could speed that up,” offered Eulena.
“Perhaps later,” frowned the Mage. “Our task is not yet complete. The demonstone was not destroyed, and that makes the next part of our mission more deadly.”
“What do we have to do?” asked Dorforun.
“We must enter the Forest of Death and deal with Alutar,” declared the Mage. “I must warn all of you that you are about to test your powers as you have never before. The Forest of Death is a deadly place. There are no friendly creatures within it. You will face ogres, poisonous revenant creatures, demons, and Alutar himself. Even the trees will seek to seize you. It is a place of pure evil.”
“I can build pillars to protect us,” offered Crystil.
“Pillars will not protect our minds,” replied the Mage. “Evil comes in many forms. Not all of them can be seen.”
Chapter 50
Forest of Death
Fakir Aziz dismounted in a large clearing and waved for the other mages to do the same.
“Do not tie the unicorns,” instructed the Mage. “They must be able to defend themselves. Zynor, look after them. Crystil, take Valera with you and set up some pillars. Make sure that Valera understands what you are doing. Kalmar, Dorforun, gather bark for a fire. Gather only bark. Do not bother with wood. It is not fit for a fire. Atule, you will get the fire going as soon as you have something to burn. Eulena, you may start preparing a meal for us.”
The mages took to their assigned tasks without complaint. Atule turned in a slow circle, examining the forest around him.
“I can feel the evil of this place,” Atule remarked softly. “Why are we riding through it rather than flying over it and landing where we need to?”
“It would be very dangerous to descend through the canopy without knowing what waited below for us,” answered Fakir Aziz. “Besides, there is no need to rush. Alutar knows that we are coming.”
“You have fought the Great Demon before,” said Atule. “What should we expect?”
“The unexpected,” frowned the Mage. “Realize that Alutar will not be defeated here. We can only hope to contain him. I had sought to deprive him of the demonstone, but he learned of our plans too early.”
“Because of the black-cloak that flew to the Forest of Death?” asked Atule.
“No,” Fakir Aziz shook his head. “That black-cloak delivered no message. Someone managed to cause the demonstone pain, and that pain called out to Alutar. I suspect my own enchanted sands were used to wound the demonstone.”
“Now Alutar will be whole,” frowned Atule. “Are you sure he will still be there when we arrive?”
“He will be there,” the Mage replied without hesitation. “He may have his legs back, but it will take time before they are once again useful to him. Besides, he feels quite safe where he is. The Forest of Death is his lair, and he is comfortable here. He has many minions at his command, and all of them will seek to kill us. If he can destroy all of you, he will seek to permanently weaken me.”
“That is not an encouraging thought,” replied Atule. “W
hy not just burn this entire forest to the ground?”
“The forest is salvageable,” answered the Mage. “In fact, if we are successful, it will become the home of the Dielderal.”
“The Forest of Death?” questioned Eulena. “I do not think my people would move here. There is a taint to this forest that smells of death.”
“Who better to restore it than the elves,” smiled Fakir Aziz. “It will offer your people a new homeland unencumbered by past enemies. It will also provide a defining purpose for the Dielderal. It will serve you well for many generations.”
Kalmar and Dorforun delivered armfuls of bark, and Atule began a fire. After a while, Crystil and Valera returned.
“The pillars are set,” smiled Valera. “We will not have to worry about evil disturbing us this night.”
“Take nothing for granted,” warned the Mage. “The pillars are meant to keep evil out, but evil can still exist within the area defined by the pillars. We will have sentries during the night. Arrange the schedule as it best suits you.”
“Do we attack anything we see?” asked Dorforun.
“We destroy everything we come across,” answered the Mage. “Not kill, but destroy. Some of the attackers will already be dead. Even the tiniest of creatures can bring death to any one of you. Everything must be decapitated or consumed by fire.”
Eulena finished preparing the meal and the mages sat and ate in silence. When the meal was done, the mages prepared to play their nightly game, but Fakir Aziz shook his head.
“The time for games is over,” the Mage declared. “We will need as much sleep as we can get.”
The mages settled down to get some sleep, leaving Atule and Crystil to take the first watch. The two old mages sat back to back in silence for a long time before either one of them spoke.
“I know that you hate me,” Atule eventually whispered, “and I do not blame you. I was young and foolish and didn’t realize what a treasure you were. I suppose that I hurt you a great deal, but you may take satisfaction in knowing that my life has been empty without you.”
Crystil shook her head. “Is that so?” she quipped. “Is that why you could not even remember my name when we met again after all those years?”
“No,” Atule replied sincerely. “I couldn’t remember your name because I spent hundreds of years trying to forget you. I finally did. I convinced myself that you were long dead.”
Crystil did not respond, and they sat in silence for a long time.
“I do not hate you,” she eventually whispered. “I was as stubborn as you were. We were both at fault for what happened. If it is any consolation, I did not taunt you any more than I taunted myself. Many a night I berated myself over my stubbornness. If nothing else, it taught me humility. What’s done is done, Atule. Neither of us can turn back the sands of time.”
“Perhaps we can,” Atule said hopefully. “It is never too late.”
“No, Atule,” smiled Crystil. “We were different people then. The love we had is gone, but I was wrong to replace those long lost feelings with hatred. It was as immature as my earlier stubbornness. Let us be friends and enjoy the memories that we are creating now rather than dwell on things that never were. Can you find it in your heart to be my friend after how I treated you?”
“I will not have to look hard to find such a feeling,” smiled Atule. “Friends we shall be forever.”
The two mages fell silent, each lost in memories of olden times. An hour later, Crystil stiffened. The pressure against Atule’s back was enough of a warning to drag him from his thoughts, and he leaped to his feet. Crystil stood and pointed towards the dark woods. A light soared from her fingertips and hung in the air just outside the perimeter of the enclosure formed by the pillars.
“Ogres!” shouted Atule. “Lots of ogres!”
Crystil turned slowly and sent several more floating lights into the woods in different directions as the other mages scrambled to their feet. The ogres had the camp surrounded, but they seemed unable to advance into the clearing. They growled and snarled as their arms tried to reach into the clearing to snare one of the mages, but they withdrew their arms in pain when they came in contact with the invisible line between the pillars. Atule targeted the ground beneath a large group of ogres. The soil instantly liquefied, and some of the ogres started sinking in a bog of quicksand. Crystil pointed at individual ogres, and the selected ogres fell to the ground, their blood vessels exploding. Kalmar threw tree mines deep into the forest, and the giant trees exploded in a flurry of jagged wooden splinters. Dorforun targeted large rocks and cast a dwarven spell used in the mines to shatter stone. The slivers of stone flew outwards piercing all of the ogres in the area near it. Eulena caused vines to grow down from the huge misshapen trees. The vines wrapped around the necks of the ogres and lifted them off the ground. As the ogres struggled to free themselves, the vines continued to tighten until eventually the ogres’ heads separated from their bodies. Both portions of the ogres then fell to the ground below, and the vines shot down to snare their next victims.
Zynor closed his eyes and concentrated on the ogres nearest him. A moment later, the ogres began attacking each other. Valera stepped up next to Zynor, and flames leaped from her fingertips. Fakir Aziz stood in the center of the clearing observing the attack, his eyes searching for ogre deserters. Whenever he saw an ogre retreating, he pointed at the creature. A small tendril of light shot from his finger and struck the selected ogre. The ogre was instantly enclosed in a flash of blinding light. When the light faded, the ogre was gone. Once the initial attack was rebuffed, Atule began targeting the ogres in the quicksand. He pointed at individual ogres and sent a bolt of power blasting into their necks, causing their heads to separate from their bodies. Zynor eventually opened his eyes and gasped when he saw a unicorn in the distance. He whirled around to where the unicorns had been sleeping and saw that none of them were still in the camp.
“The unicorns!” Zynor shouted. “They are out in the forest.”
“Do not worry for them,” stated Fakir Aziz. “They are decapitating any ogres that we missed. They will come back when they are finished.”
Crystil’s floating lights began to fade, and she sent new lights floating into the surrounding forest. The group of mages scanned the forest looking for live ogres or revenants of ogres. There were none to be found. Hundreds of ogre bodies littered the floor of the forest outside the clearing, but none of them moved. Eventually, the unicorns returned, their horns dripping with blood. Zynor moved quickly to greet them and started washing their horns. Within minutes, his waterskin was empty. Fakir Aziz smiled and handed the Zaroccan mage his personal waterskin. Zynor thanked the Mage and finished cleaning the horns. When he was done, he hefted the Mage’s waterskin and raised an eyebrow. The waterskin was still full. With a shrug, he refilled his own waterskin from the Mage’s and then returned Fakir’s waterskin to him.
“Wasn’t it dangerous to let the unicorns go out into the forest?” asked Zynor.
“Yes,” the Mage replied distractedly. “There is danger lurking in this forest for all of us. The unicorns are aware of the danger. Do not restrict their movements.”
The camp quieted as the mages realized that the battle was over. Kalmar and Valera took over the watch while the others returned to sleep. The two young mages sat back to back as Crystil and Atule had done earlier. For a while, neither of them spoke.
“I do not like the use of such violent magic,” Kalmar eventually said in a whisper. “I would be quite happy to restrict myself to the healing arts when all of this is done.”
“I understand,” smiled Valera. “I know that we are not the only ones with such feelings. I think that is why Crystil spent so much time experimenting with pillars. It is a peaceful way of avoiding conflict.” The smile slid from the Vinaforan’s face as she continued, “I wonder why the Mage chose us for such a violent mission. Surely he knew our hearts when he chose us.”
“He is not a violent being himself,” r
etorted Kalmar, “but the nature of these creatures is truly evil. Avoiding conflict is not always the best path to take, Valera. Traveling the world these past few months has shown me that. In fact, I would like to continue traveling when this is all over. I feel as if there is much to learn by seeing how others live. I would like the traveling even better if you would consider joining with me.”
Valera smiled and nodded. “I would enjoy that.”
* * * *
The yaki leaped towards the column of riders, his fur a blazing inferno. Dorforun threw himself off the unicorn, the fiery yaki barely missing the dwarven mage as it sailed over the unicorn and smashed head first into a tree. Fakir Aziz immediately dismounted and shouted for the other mages to do the same. The unicorns raced into the trees as the dismounted mages continued their fiery barrage on the herd of yaki. Dorforun picked himself up off the ground and joined in the battle, flames flying from both of his hands. In minutes the battle was over. All that was left of the huge herd of yaki were the fires dotting the forest. The unicorns worked their way through the trees, methodically decapitating the burning bodies.
“When will this end?” complained Atule. “For days we have been battling these creatures night and day. We have left thousands of carcasses behind us like a breadcrumb trail all the way from the desert. Is there no end to this madness? Are we to remain in this foul place until every evil creature in the Forest of Death has been eliminated?”
“The destruction of ogres and yaki is now behind us,” answered Fakir Aziz. “These were the last, but do not rejoice just yet. The worst of all is just before us. We are less than an hour away from Alutar and his bevy of demons. Some of the demons may flee from my presence, but not all of them. Alutar’s allure is strong, and some of the demons will stay to fight us. Do not underestimate their powers. When they are close to their master, they can draw enormous power from him. We will rest for a bit before we finish this journey. You will all need to be fresh for the coming battle. Eulena, find us a clearing away from this smoke.”
Alutar: The Great Demon Page 62
