The Awakening

by Joe Jackson

  “Could this Tempis’ra be behind the necromancy? We spoke with some entity through a necromancer that called itself the… Crimson Queen. Does it sound familiar?” Starlenia asked.

  “The Crimson Queen?” Rexis echoed in a hiss. “No, that wouldn’t be the Tempis’ra, but it might point to there being more than one culprit here. For you see, The Crimson Queen is one of the nicknames of King Koursturaux S’Bakthra, one of the most powerful demon kings of the underworld.”

  “They grow ever more desperate to come to this world,” Delkantar said. “I suppose it’s a good thing we have one of them on our side, and that it would be one of the more tactically brilliant among them.”

  “Celigus Chinchala?” the wizard asked, and he let forth a hmph when Delkantar nodded. “We’ll just see about that.”

  “So, history is repeating itself, and we will end up fighting this Tempis’ra yet again,” Max said.

  “History repeats itself because evil never ceases trying to overcome good. But by its very nature, it tries the same things over and over.”

  The luranar paladin folded his arms across his chest and sighed. “Can we count on your help, mighty wizard?”

  “My days of fighting are over,” Rexis said with an apologetic gesture. “I can scarcely keep my own study in order anymore, and I shudder to think what destruction I might rain upon our land after this many years. I will leave it to the younger generations, but I will have my place among your resistance, young pup, do not fear. I will guide you, and those who will fight beside you, and I have a gift the likes of which you will probably never understand. Come.”

  The wizard stopped only long enough to pop one more strawberry into his mouth, which drew laughs from most of the companions. He set off down to the main level of the castle and the stairs to the audience chamber. He impatiently waved off any inquiry from the guards and led his guests up and into the impressive chamber. All wonder at the radiance and rainbow hues cast by the ice-like walls and high windows of the throne room were dispelled immediately by the sight of what stood in the center of the floor.

  At first, Leighandra thought they had found another of Max’s people, if not one of his relatives, but she quickly realized her error. The suit of armor and the sword and shield it held had been placed upon a stand in the throne room’s center. The armor was of incredible, shining silver, its breastplate engraved with a gold cross, and the chronicler recalled that though Max said he and his father were Christian, that symbol also represented two Citarian deities: the Ghost and Bek Coramin. The shield likewise had a golden cross engraved upon it, its edge lined with writing in a script unfamiliar to the chronicler – which was a rare thing in this land.

  The helm was a fanged, snarling wolf mask; one that gave Leighandra shivers even when it wasn’t upon someone’s head. She imagined the icy blue eyes of a luranar paladin staring out from within, a sword burning with blue flame gripped in his clawed hand. And that thought brought her attention to the sword itself. Its pommel looked like it was carved out of ice, the blade somehow translucent silver with a marking near the pommel of a horned ram’s head.

  “Can it be?” came a voice from beyond the display, accented similarly to Rexis’. The queen rose and strode down from her throne and dais, slowing in her approach as she studied Max. “But no, it is not… you are not Kalamaris Talvorus.”

  “Your Majesty,” Rexis said with an awkward bow, “this is Prince Auremax Talvorus, the seventh son of King Kalamaris Talvorus.”

  The queen approached, trailed by her various retainers, many of whom seemed put out by the uninvited interruption. If the fures-rir monarch felt the same way, she gave no indication. She stopped before Max and looked him up and down, and the luranar prince bowed deeply to her. The rest of the companions followed suit quickly, and the fures-rir woman smiled.

  “I am Queen Sevultra Tenari, and I welcome you to our kingdom,” she said. “You look so very much like your father, young prince.”

  “Thank you, Majesty,” Max replied, and he did seem to actually appreciate the sentiment so far as Leighandra could tell. “Forgive me if it is too forward to ask, but how did you come to possess my father’s armor and sword if he was killed in battle with Arku?”

  “It was brought here by an angel,” the queen responded, turning slightly to admire the set. She snorted without even looking at the doubtful faces of those behind her. “Despite what my staff may believe, it was a being of light who brought the armor and sword to me in what, at the time, I had thought was a dream. And then the next morning I woke to find this here in my very throne room, a testament to the man by whose bravery we were spared the rule of the demon king Arku Chinchala.”

  “Remember, young prince, that I told you the sword actually belongs to the queen’s line,” Rexis put in. “In truth, it has finally returned to its rightful place.”

  “Oh hush, you old codger,” the queen said, and Leighandra barked out a laugh when she saw the expression on the wizard’s face. “His fathers have wielded this sword for generations, and if he is here now, then clearly the angel brought it to me in expectation of these events.”

  Yiilu was inspecting the back of the armor, and Leighandra went around to see what had gotten the druidess’ attention. On the back plating was an engraving of a massive tree, with more of that unintelligible script in a broad circle around it. Elf and half-elf exchanged a glance, and then both looked at Max to see what he would say or do.

  “What do you know of these events, Majesty?” Max asked. “Your court wizard has been most helpful and thorough in explaining similar events of the past.”

  “Admittedly, I know very little,” she answered. “Over the long centuries, I’m afraid our people have gotten too used to our isolated nature. We’ve forgotten that we were born to war, to fight the enemies of our gods and crush any usurpers of our homeland. I cannot say for certain, but I suspect the passing of this very sword to your people was symbolic of our people passing off their responsibilities to others.”

  The queen snapped her fingers and one of her staff came forward. “No longer. I cannot help you militarily, not in any timely fashion, but there are things we can do to assist you. I will put the full financial might of this kingdom behind your efforts. Christirra Stahlorr here will take you to the royal outfitters, that they may see to your armor and weapons and ensure you have the finest available before you set forth. I will have my provisioners prepare your packs for your return to the southlands, and my generals will begin calling in our reserves, that I may send a contingent by sea to Flora and then Solaris, to lend you whatever aid you need.”

  “As for you, young prince,” she continued. “Take your father’s armor and the sword of our peoples. I care little what god’s name you fight in, but fight you well in his name, and go forth as my matriarch did, and as your fathers did before you: as the Flame of the North, wielder of the Sword of the North Wind.”

  Max crouched down to one knee before her. “Majesty, you honor me more than words could ever express.”

  “If there is any honor given here, it is given to us, that you and your friends would give us such opportunity to make right what we’ve failed to do for generations,” she answered.

  “I believe this may be the same issue that your great matriarch led our people south to fight so long ago,” Rexis said.

  “Then they have not a moment to lose. Take your armor and your sword, young prince, and then go with your friends to see to whatever other needs you have.”

  Galadon and Delkantar helped Max shed the armor he was wearing, and the fures-rir staff began to take down the armor on display. It took several minutes to get the plate armor on the luranar paladin, but soon he was encased in the protective gear, all but the helm, which he stared at as it sat in his hand. After some contemplation, he put the helm on, and met the queen’s gaze.

  “By the gods, do you ever look like a holy terror,” she said.

  “I thought this sword sprouted flame?” Max asked.

>   Queen Sevultra looked at Rexis, who shrugged. “It will when the time is right.”

  “You look just like your father,” Galadon said, clapping the luranar prince on an armored shoulder. “I am honored to stand at your side, just as I stood at his.”

  Max slid the sword into its scabbard and then hooked the shield over his back. “I find myself overwhelmed,” he said, slipping the helm off and onto a short hook on the armor’s girdle. “When I left the lands of my people, I expected a diplomatic visit to Solaris and then perhaps a trek among the gnolls to see what agitated them. I can hardly believe all that has transpired in these many weeks.”

  “So it was with all the great heroes of the past,” Rexis said. “You stand up and you do what needs doing. That is really all that separates the heroes from the commoners. Try not to take the weight of the world upon your shoulders, but simply do what needs doing, follow where the gods lead you, and, if all else fails, set the example for the next generation to do the same.” Max beheld the wizard incredulously, and Rexis was shocked by the reaction. “What?”

  “That is, more or less, what is written on the back of this armor,” the luranar prince said, his eyes narrowed. “I cannot help but think you know more than you let on.”

  “The only other thing I can tell you is that you must return to Karinda,” Rexis said. “I think when she sees you in this armor, holding that sword, she will have much to tell you.”

  Max nodded and glanced at Galadon. “I think we should return to the archmage again, then proceed to Solaris to update our allies on what we have found. We will stop only to see to what local issues we may.”

  “Well said,” the older knight agreed.

  “Well then, let’s go get outfitted,” Delkantar said. “I’m looking forward to seeing what these fine people produce for implements of war.”

  Leighandra smiled, but she looked suddenly at Starlenia, oddly quiet all this time. There was an expression on the Okonashai woman’s face like she’d just been told a relative had died or something of that gravity. “What is it?” the chronicler asked.

  Starlenia looked around at everyone. “Not to be the voice of dissent, but you realize we’re being led to go to war with a demon god?”

  “Yes, I do,” Max answered. “And I am going to carve my father’s name in it.”

  “I sure hope so, kid,” Starlenia muttered. “I sure hope so.”

  Chapter IX – Signs and Wonders

  Leighandra hadn’t had time to get attached to the armor she’d received in Shartek. It was replaced now by a similar but much higher quality set of leather augmented by metal plates and the occasional patch of chain. It was weighted in all the right places so that it didn’t sit too heavily on her shoulders or hips, and despite having been refitted for the half-elf from a rir-sized set, it felt as though it was made specifically for her from the start. She danced around, testing its weight and flexibility; now she understood the appeal of her companions’ outfits.

  Starlenia and Delkantar had been similarly outfitted, their armor not changed much but for the quality. Their weapons, on the other hand, were something else entirely. Starlenia had a pair of kukris, the short, curved blades double-edged to give them added versatility. Leighandra had never seen such a weapon double-edged before, but assumed that if the fures-rir made them this way, the blades could still withstand combat – in the cold, no less. The chronicler also knew the shorter woman’s capabilities and some of her moves in combat, and suspected the rogue would put them to deadly use when the situation demanded it.

  Delkantar had a pair of what the fures-rir called “culling blades.” Like his old weapons, they had the sleek design of a rapier but a heavier weight to them, single-edged and honed to a fine point at the tip. The way he stared down their blades and then tested their weight gave the chronicler a new appreciation for his familiarity with weapons. The culling blade was a weapon Leighandra could appreciate as a duelist, though she stuck with her saber for the time being. Her saber was a family heirloom, one she was hesitant to part with, being one of the few reminders she had of her human father.

  She swallowed, pushing those thoughts aside to take in her other companions. Galadon had added more plate to his suit, growing closer to a true set of plate mail, though he seemed to have second thoughts about it when informed the fures-rir had no horses. “Clearly, I will have to replace my charger when we return to the southlands,” he commented during their outfitting. “Then I will get myself a proper lance, and show the lot of you what I was famous for before the battle with Arku.”

  “You were a jouster?” Leighandra prodded. She could see that easily enough; the knight knew and loved his horses, and seemed like a cavalier or even cavalryman.

  “On occasion,” he confirmed. He looked apologetically at Max. “I must confess, back before the War, we didn’t bother trying to negotiate with the gnolls. When they caused trouble, I ran them down with my charger, or impaled them on the tip of my lance or sword. Accordingly, we had a lot fewer incidents with them in those days.”

  “I can imagine,” the luranar paladin answered. He shrugged. “My people have a long and bloody history with them ourselves, as I have mentioned. But once we stopped answering their aggression with violence, we found they were an agreeable enough people, if we accepted them for what they were. Now, some of them live among us, such as Kas’Yari.”

  “It’ll be a long time before they ask to live among us, or we allow them to,” Galadon admitted. “We’ll see how much this coming conflict changes things.”

  Max smiled but said nothing, even when Delkantar let forth a grunting laugh.

  Yiilu finally joined them, the druidess having asked nothing of the provisioners but for food and sundries. Her armor was something masterfully crafted among the elves, and if the chronicler knew her as a druid, she wouldn’t surrender her scimitar for one made by outsiders. Yiilu had spent the majority of the preparatory time with Rexis, showing the old wizard some basic tips and tricks for growing “happy plants” that bore fruit.

  “Master Rexis has taken quite a liking to you, no?” she prompted the elf.

  “I have never seen someone so enthralled with fruit, though in this frigid climate, perhaps it is not so surprising.”

  Maybe the old man will enjoy sleeping in a warm bed for a change, Leighandra thought, imagining him keeping his chambers well-heated to accommodate his many new plants. While the cold-immune people had done their best to keep things comfortable for their guests, the chronicler was looking forward to getting back to warmer lands, even if summer was at its end.

  They left with the blessing of the queen and the confident praises of her court wizard. The return journey was long and cold, but there was excitement among them. They were on to something, and Rexis seemed certain that Karinda would tell them what she knew now. Leighandra didn’t understand why they had to trek all the way to Drazika Sul’Tenari to find out something Rexis should’ve been all too happy to share with Karinda. There was something to the queen’s claims that an angel had delivered Kalamaris’ sword and armor, though, and the chronicler wondered how involved such a divine being might become in their quest.

  Angels were rare in the legends and tales Leighandra knew. Compared to the prolific presence of demons in both the world and the stories, it certainly raised a lot of questions. She knew only that when angels made appearances, one was well-served to sit up and take notice, for it usually pointed to something important happening.

  She had just started thinking of the incident at the end of the Second Demon War when she bumped into Delkantar, nearly pitching over his crouched form. He turned his head to look at her around his dreadlocks. “Pay attention, daydreamer,” he smirked.

  “What is it?” she returned, and the others came up beside the ranger.

  “Seen a few sets of large tracks in the last couple of hours. And I don’t like the looks of these little hillocks. Something looks different about the land here compared to when we first came through. I�
��ve got a funny feeling about it.”

  Galadon raised a brow. “You remember what this looked like when we came through?”

  “Well enough. Thing you’ve got to keep in mind up this way is that despite how obvious the elk and the wolves might be to our eyes, most things have learned to camouflage. So when you see what looks like a hillock that wasn’t there before…”

  He didn’t need to finish or illustrate his point, the two white bumps off the sides of the road rising to their feet to reveal ivory-furred, ape-like creatures. Leighandra had heard of the tundra yeti in the rare tale from the north, but they were far larger than she imagined. One of their fists alone seemed nearly the size of Starlenia, and their roars echoed across the open, windy tundra. Those were hardly the most concerning things, though…

  “Look at those wounds,” Max hissed. “These must be undead as well.”

  Delkantar drew his swords. “Time to put these new blades to the test.”

  “Take the others and disable one of them; I will slow the other one down,” Max said to Galadon. Despite the curious glance the human gave his companion, he nodded and gestured for the others to go with him.

  Leighandra fell in with Galadon, summoning up some flames on her sword. The knight met the yeti’s lumbering charge, but fell back a few steps to diffuse the strength of its initial assault. The undead creature, trying to slam him with all its might, overbalanced in the process, which left it open to the others. The chronicler circled around, trying to flank without getting in the way of Delkantar or Starlenia.

  The two humans moved in concert, stabbing, slashing, and then ducking and weaving out of the way of retaliatory strikes. If Leighandra didn’t know better, she might’ve suspected they had been training together for years. Had they worked similarly in the gnoll keep to disable the zombies there? It seemed likely, and the best explanation why they had cleared the halls and suffered nearly no wounds in the process.