First Comes The One Who Wanders

by Lynette S. Jones

  The first was a rock giant, the second a satyr. The third to enter was a werewolf. After those, came three humans. The seventh was a gnome, a good position for one with great knowledge. Dark elves entered and took the eighth and ninth seat. The last three seats were filled by a goblin, an orc, and a darkling. There were three other masters present, dark demon-like men, not men and yet not demons either. Leilas shivered. Whatever they were, they were powerful and they were evil. Interestingly, although all the other masters were full of dark power, she didn’t feel that they were evil.

  These three demon-like men served their master exclusively. They didn’t bow to the Creator. Who was this master the three demon-like men served?

  “These creatures are the spawn of Rengailai. All creatures and people fear them. There are only two who are immune to their power, Rengailai and the one he serves,” Garabaldi answered her unspoken question.

  The gong sounded twelve times, one for each master and then the council was seated. Leilas could feel the power emanating from them, it called to her, pulled at her, taunted her. She grabbed a railing nearby to keep from giving in to the urge to run down into the middle of the circle.

  After what seemed an eternity, one of the shadow creatures stood and began to speak in a hollow, bone-chilling rasp. Leilas could feel the fear he exuded reach out and grab the hearts of all those who were assembled there. “The masters of the School of Land have been gracious enough to call this meeting so we could speak. We have come from the Master, Dredrac. He has this to say. The balance is beginning to fail. Soon, it will be time to take up arms and fight for the Dark Lord Dredrac against the champion of the Creator Jovan. The prophecies have foretold this day for centuries. We consider it an honor to die for Dredrac. No able man will be exempted from the fight. If we fail in this battle, all will be lost.”

  The Masters of the school squirmed uncomfortably. Leilas couldn’t help but think of the tale Solein told her. If the forces of darkness prevailed in their battle all would be lost. The Chasm of Ceryk would remain open and all the creatures of the Dark Lord would be destroyed.

  Suddenly, it became very important to Leilas that this didn’t happen. Shaking her head in disbelief at her thoughts, Leilas turned to leave. Garabaldi reached out to stop her. Pushing his hand away, Leilas headed back down the corridor they’d used to arrive. She could hear the master talking still, but she’d heard enough. All she wanted was out of this darkness and to see the sun again.

  CHAPTER 10

  It wasn’t long before Leilas realized that she’d made a wrong turn somewhere. She wasn’t heading back down the tunnel she and Garabaldi had traversed to arrive at the great hall. Nothing about the tunnel she was in seemed familiar.

  Stopping to catch her breath, Leilas debated with herself about what she should do. Turn around and retrace her steps back to the great hall, where she didn’t want to be. Or, continue and hope this tunnel led to the surface eventually. She didn’t have any food other than the half-eaten loaf of bread and a half-filled water skin.

  Despite the nagging voice telling her she was being reckless and should turn back and find Garabaldi, Leilas chose to continue in the direction she was headed. What was the worst that could happen? She would end up as one of those prisoners she saw in the guards’ minds.

  Shivering at the picture in her mind, she let her hand drop to the hilt of the only weapon she had. Wishing that she’d had time to pick up a few more in Rengailai’s dungeon, she placed her other hand on the damp wall and continued forward. The dank, musty smell told her that this corridor wasn’t used very often, but it didn’t answer the question of whether that was good news or bad. How often did these creatures of the dark go to the surface? If the answer was almost never, then it was a good sign the tunnel was seldom used. Deciding she would use that as her premise, Leilas shuffled on in the dark as quietly as she could. She wasn’t willing to risk a light. It was draining to keep it going and she wasn’t sure how long she would be wandering around down here. She didn’t have much food to replenish her energy. Also, she wasn’t sure who she might encounter along the way. Trying not to let the fact that the tunnel was definitely dropping discourage her, she followed the turns of the passageway.

  The passageway seemed to go on endlessly and the darkness distorted all sense of time. Leilas tried counting her footsteps to keep some account of how far she’d traveled. But after a while, she lost track of the count. Each step took her down and with each step, she questioned her decision to continue. For all she knew, this tunnel could go completely under this mountain and emerge on the other side, a journey that could take several weeks. A journey she wasn’t prepared to take with only a day’s worth of food and water.

  Stopping once more, she debated with herself again. Once more, continuing on seemed a better choice than going back and facing thousands of dark creatures and those demon-men who were also powerful crafters. If she ever met Garabaldi again, –she vacillated between throttling him for bringing her to that chamber and apologizing for not staying and learning what she needed to know.

  Thinking of the gnome, she sent her thoughts out to see what she could hear. Sending them as far as her power would let her, she found nothing. Taking a breath in resignation, she began her downward trek again.

  The sound of her boot hitting against metal was deafening in the eerie silence. “Blood and guts,” said Leilas, catching herself against the walls, barely avoiding a fall. Drawing her sword, she poked at the ground to investigate what she’d inadvertently found. Her sword clanked, but also gave under her probing. Reaching down, Leilas touched the metal with her hand. Feeling the metal breastplate on a still chest, she withdrew her hand quickly. Pressing herself against the wall, she listened for the indication of people coming to investigate the noise.

  After waiting for what seemed like hours, Leilas reached down and touched the body again, this time trying to determine who this warrior might be. Letting her fingers glide over the breastplate, she felt for any emblems that might be there, but there were none. Then she moved her hand to his neck, looking for any identifying insignia. She took the pin holding his cloak and examined it blindly, attempting to let a picture grow in her mind. It seemed to be a cresting wave. Here was a master of Sea, a very long way from home.

  “I suppose you got lost down here, too,” said Leilas to the lifeless body. “May the Creator keep you.” Tucking the symbol of mastery into her tunic, she continued her search of the body. There was no food or drink. She hadn’t really expected to find any. Still, he had a sword and an axe. The breastplate was too large as was the helmet. But the cloak was usable. Hesitating briefly, she took out the golden crest and secured the cloak around her shoulders.

  “Thank you for these gifts,” she whispered to the dead master. Then moving the body out of the pathway as best she could, she knelt and began chanting the death song for him. It was all she could do for him in this place.

  When she finished the prayer, she slung the sword over her shoulders so it rested on her back and carried the battleaxe in her hand. It was a better choice than the short sword and not as heavy as the long sword. Both weapons felt to be of decent quality and had some sort of engraving on them. But Leilas couldn’t make out what it symbolized. Shaking the water skin, she decided against a drink and began her slow way down the passage.

  I probably could light the way for a bit, she thought as she shuffled along using the damp wall as a guide. If anyone was near, they’d have been here by now. She’d almost convinced herself it would be okay for a while, just until the cloying fear that was beginning to gnaw at her subsided, when she felt the low, throbbing vibration of some sort of machinery. Swallowing thickly with fear, she stopped, frozen to the spot.

  Gathering her courage and trying to shake off the fear, Leilas took a better grip on the battleaxe and began to move forward, toward the noise. Whatever it was, it had to be better than the endless, dark tunnel burrowing downward.

  Rounding a bend, Leilas stopped
suddenly, blinking her eyes at the light that assaulted them. It was a dim, orange glow coming from the same direction as the vibration, but after the complete darkness it was blinding. She had no idea how long she’d been in this tunnel, or how far she’d come. She didn’t even know what direction she’d been traveling. It wasn’t beyond possibility she’d gone in a complete circle and ended up back at the great hall. Although, she had to admit this didn’t look like the entrance to that chamber.

  Hugging the wall, she moved forward, readying herself for confrontation. But she reached the source of the light without meeting anyone. Perhaps this was too far within the boundaries of Crysalis for anyone to be concerned about unwelcome guests.

  If the comrade she’d left behind in the corridor was an indication, she was inclined to believe that was the truth. Otherwise, why would his body still have been lying in the tunnel? Wondering again, how he’d ended up in that passageway, she stepped into the lighted cavern. It was too late to retreat from the magical trap that was tripped as she stepped over the threshold. Swinging her axe to the ready, Leilas turned to face the goblins that sprang out of the walls. There weren’t any doors that she could see, but she didn’t have time to look. Ten dark, ugly creatures were encircling her, intent on killing her. Choosing the closest enemy, Leilas took a swing and caught him in the chest. Wrenching her axe free, she turned ninety degrees and dispatched the next goblin with a backhanded stroke. The group had reached her now and she began swinging the axe back and forth hitting whoever came within reach as she pushed through the group to find a more strategic position to defend.

  Positioning herself with her back against the dais in the middle of the room from where the vibration seemed to be originating, Leilas assessed the situation. Two goblins had gone down, five had wounds; that left three whole. Swinging her axe in a double arc, Leilas waited for them to make the first move, taking the opportunity to catch her breath. With a yell, the eight began the assault again. They approached more cautiously this time. Leilas ignored the urge to meet them halfway. She’d chosen this spot to fight. This was where she would fight.

  Her axe cleanly cut off the head of the goblin who reached her first. The second caught the back swing full in the chest. His screech echoed in the cavern as he fell to the ground. Leilas was aware that some of their blows had connected but she continued to fight. The next to attack caught her axe in his thigh. Dark blood began to spout and he began to scream. Finishing him with a blow to the head, Leilas turned to face the remaining three, panting with exhaustion. Taking a step up onto the dais to give herself more room, Leilas watched as the last three enemies disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared. Not even the bodies of the dead remained. Only the wounds she’d received bore evidence of the fight and the inevitable darkness swirling around her.

  “Interesting,” was all she managed to say as she sank down to her knees and tried to catch her breath. After a few moments rest, she examined her wounds. None of them appeared to need immediate attention. None of these goblins had been crafters. The wounds would heal quickly. Using her axe to help, Leilas regained her feet and took a look around the room from her perch on the platform as she indulged in three mouthfuls of water and a quarter of the bread she had left. She wasn’t quite ready to test the theory that the enemies would return as soon as she stepped down. She was safe enough here it seemed, for now. The vibration had stopped as soon as she’d stepped on the dais, as well. Whatever caused the vibration, seemed to be the source of this room’s protection. Intrigued as she was to figure out the workings of this trap, she was too tired to investigate. Instead, she looked around the now empty room.

  The walls of the cavern were covered in pictures and the dim, orange glow came from lamps in sconces on the wall that seemed to be lit from some unknown source. From the dust covering the dais and the lack of footprints anywhere other than where she’d fought, it was clear no one had been down in this room for years. So how long had her master of Sea been lying in the corridor, she mused to herself? He hadn’t just been bone. It didn’t make sense. Maybe it would make more sense after some sleep. Too tired to do more than lean against the podium on the stage she closed her eyes and dropped into a dreamless sleep.

  A rumbling in her stomach woke her. Everything appeared exactly as it had when she’d fallen asleep except the light seemed to be slightly dimmer. Indulging in another mouthful of water, she ignored the protests of her stomach. There wasn’t much bread left.

  Now that she was rested, Leilas studied the murals on the walls. It took several minutes to find the beginning of the story. The first panel was a scene of a council meeting. It took Leilas a few minutes to recognize it as the masters of Sky. The council chamber was half in ruins. What had once been a beautiful chamber was now a darkened hull. In the center of the circle of masters stood a figure in blue with golden hair, Leilas couldn’t help but think of Master Frey. Could this mural be depicting him before the council? She was too far away to study the intricate details and she wasn’t willing to restart the battle with the protectors of this place, just yet. But how could these pictures, which clearly had been here for countless years, be showing Master Frey?

  “Idiot,” said Leilas out loud. “He’s been around for who knows how long. Besides,” she continued to herself, “the fact that it looks like Master Frey doesn’t make it him. And it doesn’t have to be a story from the past. It could be a prediction of the future.”

  The last time she’d seen the council chamber it wasn’t in ruins. No one had ever talked about it having been destroyed in the past. That fact seemed to indicate this was a scene from a future someone had seen.

  For the first time since she’d left Dirth, Leilas thought about the battle that had taken place there. Her family and Joshuas had left before the dark crafters had attacked the school. Could the dark crafters have done this to the School of Sky? Hadn’t Brenth said something about it no longer existing? Leilas tried to remember what he had said, but the memory was blurred because she’d been under the influence of the dark crafter poison. If that was what Brenth said, this picture could be portraying events that were happening now. Leilas looked at the ruined council chambers with sadness. Was that all that remained?

  She moved on to the second mural with her interest piqued. If this was a vision of present events, and she could understand it, maybe she could do something with the information to affect whatever event it was depicting.

  “Slow down there, girl,” she said to herself. Did she really think she could affect events that had been set in motion by the Creator? Because she was beginning to understand this was bigger than Preterlandis. She laughed at her arrogance and began to study the second mural.

  In this picture, a small army was assembled in a courtyard. Now the man in blue with the golden hair was mounted on a black stallion in front of the band of soldiers. No, not soldiers, Leilas corrected herself. He was leading Sky crafters. In front, with the man in blue, was an officer. So, this was more than a guard for the crafter, they were planning on a battle.

  The third mural showed this small army, led by the man in blue and the officer, facing a force of Land crafters. At least, that was what she thought was being depicted. “Blood and guts,” she said aloud. “I wish I could get closer.” For a moment, she was tempted to try. But the ache in her arms and the pain from her wounds told her she needed to wait until her natural healing powers had had a little more time to work, just in case the protectors of this place reappeared. The thought that she was marooning herself on this platform unnecessarily crossed her mind again. These creatures couldn’t kill her. They could only slow her down unless there was more here than she knew. The crafter in the hall came back to mind. Something had killed him. Leilas reluctantly decided to err on the side of caution.

  The armies faced each other from opposite hills, a valley separating them. Behind the dark crafters rose a building completely enclosed by white pillars rising twenty lengths into the air to support the roof. The building look
ed familiar and Leilas tried to remember where she’d seen it before.

  In the next panel, the two armies were locked in battle. Many crafters lay dead. Even from this distance, Leilas could see the red tint painted into the ground. There was a speck of blue and gold in the center of the picture. This master, whoever he was, seemed driven to succeed in whatever quest he’d begun.

  The battle moved on in the picture that followed. Now the armies were on the hill by the building. The Land crafters had broken ranks and were in retreat. The Sky crafters, rather than letting them go, as was customary, were chasing them down. Leilas frowned at the implication. Something wasn’t right. If they continued on this course, the balance would be lost. They had to know this, they were all crafters. So why didn’t they stop? They didn’t stop because the man in blue was still urging them forward. Why? Again, answers she didn’t have.

  Moving on, Leilas ignored the fact that the light seemed to be growing dimmer and let the walls tell their story. The building had been breached in the next picture. Sky crafters were in a library scattering the books everywhere. Random destruction, wondered Leilas, and then decided it wasn’t random. They were looking for something. A flicker of memory came to her, in the mists, pillars, Master Frey, a book. Her vision was part of this story. The man in blue was Master Frey. What was so important about this book that he’d risk the future of Preterlandis for it? Nothing could be that important, thought Leilas.

  The next part of the story was portrayed by a picture of the library beginning to collapse. There were many Sky crafters trapped by the falling stone. Many were running, trying to escape. In the midst of all this, Master Frey stood holding the book in the air triumphantly. The scene she’d seen before. This vision was what precipitated the events of the last–, how long had it been? It felt like a thousand years to Leilas. She’d lost all sense of time in Neothera. It was easier to understand now, why Joshuas felt he was too old to be dealing with a child like her. She wondered what he would think of her now.