“Two days?” Roild was puzzled over the time period that Seeroth had named.
“Yes two days. At least that is what I'm told. I had to promise the healers on the other side that if you looked the least bit peaked I was to shove you into the nearest bed once I found you. You look fine though and from the cooks I hear you have the appetite to prove it.”
“Honestly I couldn’t tell you if it had been two days or three days. It was all sort of a blur.” Roild realized that it would explain the pains he felt in every muscle. His feet were bandaged but he could tell that they were going to start hurting as soon as whatever ointment was on them wore off. What perplexed him was how Taric could appear to be immune to the effects of the march
“Then I guess I shouldn’t expect you to tell me how you got through that tunnel. I sent scouts out through it when you arrived. They said that someone cleared the cave in from the other side. Beyond that they ran into a rather large spider nest and a flooded section of the tunnel. Is there another tunnel open that we missed?” The captain of the guard leaned forward as he waited for a response.
“I remember the flooded sections and the spider nest. I think I remember watching Taric clear the blockage but beyond that...”
“Taric cleared the cave in? He couldn’t have lifted a finger let alone moved boulders bigger than he was. Perhaps you got ahold of some hallucinogenic mushrooms along the way.” Seeroth laughed at the idea.
“I couldn’t have carried them both let alone the litter. Taric walked the whole way but he wasn’t under his own power. That human light walker or something got into him. I was hardly able to keep up.” Roild knew that he hadn’t hallucinated the whole ordeal.
“Relax boy. I was just having a little fun. I am well aware of what this human is capable of. This leads me back to the point I was going to make before you so rudely distracted me by trying to get out of bed. It’s not your fault that this young human is dying. It’s all our fault. If you hadn’t been forced to leave Kalsrod. If we hadn’t done what we did so long ago...” Seeroth got a far off expression in his old eyes.
“What happened so long ago?” Taric urged when the old warrior didn’t continue.
“What? Oh, yes I was saying. Did either of you two boys hear why the Dragon Lords died?”
“There was a plague created by the Wraith. It killed them and the dragons.” Taric answered but a word he said awoke a memory in Roild.
“What does wrathy spawn mean?” Roild asked before Seeroth had a chance to continue with his story.
“That means Wraith made in the old language. Where did you hear that?” Seeroth enquired.
“Something that the light walker said.” Roild was puzzled by the look that Seeroth threw his way before continuing his story.
“The story about the plague is true. The part that isn’t true is that it wasn’t the Wraith that created the plague. It was dwarves.”
“Dwarves?” Taric earned a scowl for interrupting.
“Yes. Dwarves. We were originally allied with the Dragon Lords against the Wraith but a number of dwarves became disillusioned after the war had dragged on for a thousand years. These rebels felt that neither side was necessarily better than the other but that they in opposition were destroying Den’dra. We had tried for a thousand years to destroy the Wraith and failed so they chose the alternate route. They decided to destroy the Dragon Lords.”
“How did they manage that?” This time it was Roild that earned the glare.
“I was getting to that part. We dwarves forged each of the Dragon Lords a powerful weapon crafted from their own essence and a fragment of a powerful gem we unearthed in our mines.”
“The soul forged blades.” Taric had heard this part of the story a hundred times before but each time he was awestruck anew.
“Do you want me to tell the story or would you like to take it up?” Seeroth looked down his crooked nose at Taric.
“I'm sorry just please continue.”
“Humph. The young ones these days. Where was I?”
“The soul forged blades.”
“Oh that’s right. It wasn’t just blades we made for them. Each of the twelve had a unique weapon that augmented their powers. No two were alike. One we crafted a bow that could become a gauntlet and fired bolts of pure light. For another we crafted a staff that could amplify his fire powers. For each a weapon was made with a shard. Twelve shards. What you were never told was that when the gem fragmented it broke into thirteen pieces.” Seeroth paused then nodded approvingly as neither of the young dwarves interrupted.
“Only the soul forgers knew of the last remaining core shard. It was purer than the rest of them being from the core. Not even the Dragon Lords knew of its existence. There was no thirteenth Dragon Lord so we dwarves secured it in a vault and forgot about it. It was nothing more than a pretty bauble without a shifter’s essence to fuse with. The rebels however discovered it and stole it from the vault. They twisted its energy and took advantage of the link it shared with all the other shards. They unleashed a plague that fed on life force. The dragons were caught up in the plague and were nearly wiped from existence. Even the Wraith were affected and forced to retreat. Thousands of elves died and the fragment of their mighty race that remained withdrew into the Elder Forest. The Dragon Lords survived the initial plague continued to die but before they did, they vanquished the Wraith from Den’dra.” Seeroth had that far off expression again in his eyes as he finished the tale.
“How could you know this? I have never heard of this tale.” Roild was stunned to find the histories that he had learned to be a lie. To discover that his race had been responsible for destroying the most powerful known race.
“My grandfather and Roild, your great grandfather was among the rebels. My father told me the story on his death bed and I have been forced to carry the tale in secret ever since. Your father undoubtedly knew so he sent you to me with that human.”
“So if he is really a new Dragon Lord then...” Taric tried to wrap his head around the ideas he had just heard.
“What happened to the rebels?” Roild inquired.
“Interesting that you should ask. Some of them like our ancestors were appalled by what had happened. The extent of the devastation unleashed by the plague was unthinkable. The Dragon Lords, elves and dragons were not the only ones struck. Countless humans died. Even the dwarves were struck but not to the extent of the other races. The rebels made a pact never to reveal their deeds. Most disbanded but a few made vows to prevent beings from ever growing so powerful again. They felt that the Dragon Lords were corrupted by their powers but it wasn’t true.”
“Stone Walker built the network of tunnels through the mountains before he died. Night Soul nursed the dragon race back from the brink of extinction. Forest Wing gave her life shielding the remaining elves from the effects of the plague. Ember Breath gave his life defeating the last Wraith on Den’dra. They weren’t evil but the rebels couldn’t be convinced. To this day their descendants still swear their oaths.”
“To this day?” Roild processed that piece of information with a start. He realized that Sharan’s actions made sense now. She must have been a part of this secret group. But if they were in Kalsrod then they most certainly were in Underheim. If that was the case then... Roild stiffened when he saw a shimmering glow appear in Taric’s eyes.
“What in the name of the deep!” Seeroth started forward as he saw what Roild had.
“Eriache gar’as onwath Draceros.” Taric uttered the words before the light faded from his eyes and was replaced by a self-conscious expression as he looked between the two dwarves that were gaping at him.
“What is it? Did I do something?”
“Eriache gar’as onwath Draceros... Evil ones, dwarves... Onwath could be death or kill depending on the context. Draceros, Draceros... A name perhaps?” Seeroth puzzled over the ancient words before he noticed that Roild had leaped out of bed and was trying to shove his bandaged feet into his boots.
“What happened
? Get back in bed Roild!” Taric demanded an answer as he tried to pull his friend back into the bed.
“Let me go! He is calling for help. We owe it to him.” Roild struggled as Seeroth joined the altercation and shoved the young dwarf back into the bed.
“Taric hold him down. What is it Roild?” Seeroth took on a commanding tone cultured over centuries of commanding men.
“The light walker used the word onwath when Taric had been bitten by the spider. When he took over Taric’s body he said Draceros las Taric. Draceros is saying that he is dying!” Roild gave up struggling when he saw the expression on both the other dwarves’ faces.
“He has been dying since he arrived. Why would he mention dwarves?” Seeroth inquired as he searched Roild’s face.
“I didn’t hear anything.” Taric was thoroughly confused by the sudden turn of events.
“What about the rebels? What if they found out about what he is?” Roild watched as Seeroth sharply inhaled.
“I left guards on the door but... Taric, with me. Roild, stay in that bed. You are worthless until your feet are healed.” Seeroth rose to his feet and with a perplexed Taric following he rapidly departed the room leaving Roild who promptly returned to trying to get his boots on.
Seeroth and Taric moved through the hallways at a brisk walk. Any dwarf that was in their path stepped aside as the aged warrior swept through. They marched through a series of hallways until they stood before a door guarded by two dwarves that looked suddenly very worried.
“Stand aside.” Seeroth ordered as he advanced but the two guards only glanced at each other before drawing their weapons.
“I’ll deal with this.” Seeroth drew his mace and was about to advance on the two hapless guards when Taric marched past. Seeroth only caught a glimpse of the glowing eyes before the younger dwarf attacked. The guards were ready for him but their defenses fell to Taric’s massive blows. The left one’s shield was dented and torn out of his hands an instant before hammer met battle axe in a shower of sparks. The battle axe ricocheted off the wall just before Taric caught hold of their armor and shoved in opposite directions. The two dwarves by no means the smallest flew through the air and slammed into the walls with echoing clangs before falling to the ground. The door shattered a moment later when hit with the twin hammers. Taric turned around and looked at the stunned Seeroth with a confused expression a moment later before looking at the battle axes that dangled from their straps at his wrists. Seeroth shook himself out of his shock and dashed forward shoving aside a dazed Taric. Once inside he pulled to a stop at the end of four lances.
“You’re too late. He is going to be dead in a few minutes at the most as it is. We were just in time though.” The dwarf behind the lancers wore the white robes with the red sash that Seeroth recognized to belong to the rebel initiate.
“Don’t do this thing. Let him die in peace.” Seeroth pleaded as the white robed dwarf pulled a brightly glowing crystal from a velvet pouch.
“You have no right to speak to me the grand master. You betrayed your family's oaths.” Seeroth had been approached shortly after his father’s death. They had forced him to take the initiation oaths but he had turned his back on them a couple years later once he had learned of their true nature. He recognized the thirteenth fragment of the soul gem in the glowing crystal. He had been with the organization long enough to learn a lot about it. His father had been the son of the soul forger that had unleashed the plague so they had believed him to be important to their organization and as such hadn't restricted his access to the records.
Seeroth had inherited the soul forger’s journal and had learned the secrets of soul forging. The rebels knew the prophecies and believed that they could destroy the new Dragon Lords by forging the fragment with one of them just before death. The original soul forged blades had been combination of shifter essence, steel and the shard. Without the steel to temper the shard and provide solidity to the essence the reaction would be devastating. It would change the host in ways that couldn’t be survived. Worse yet was that the new Dragon Lords were born of the same shifter. They were connected on some level and in theory the operation that the rebel proposed would kill them both.
“I will hunt you and your kind to the ends of the earth if you do this thing. Draceros had done nothing but help the people he has come across.” Seeroth was seething with rage at his helplessness. The lancers held their weapons stead. Taric had entered the room now but without that strange glow in the eyes he was as helpless as Seeroth.
“Courageous words from the man with four spears at his throat.” The white robed dwarf drew a dagger and made an incision over the human’s heart. Taric cried out as if he too felt the pain.
“With the same cursed shard as what was used to kill the Dragon Lords of old we now destroy their spawn.” Seeroth eyed the lancers and fingered his mace. He might be able to take them on if Taric could hand one or two of them. The chamber was small enough that they would not be able to use their lances to full advantage. Taric caught the unspoken message but before they had a chance to make a move the rebel leader uttered a curse and drew back from the boy.
They saw that he was holding the hand that had held the shard. The fingers were blackened as if from touching and holding a piece of red hot metal. The shard was glowing brightly where it lay in the pool of blood on the human’s chest.
“It’s too late to save him now.” Seeroth watched as the shard began melting and flowing into the wound. They could see it as it infected the blood. The tendrils of light spread through the blood sparking the forging process.
A properly prepared forging would have taken place in a controlled environment with a healthy host. The blood or essence would have been combined and tempered into the weapon before being infused with the shard. The result would have transformed the properties of the metal. It would have become an extension of the host amplifying their powers. The process happening before them was something that had only been theorized.
The light had spread through the human’s body over the course of a few seconds. When it had reached the extremities it seemed to increase in brilliance before subsiding into a white tinged with blue. It slowly subsided until there was nothing left of the light. Seeroth’s eyes widened when he noticed that the incision over the human’s heart was gone without a trace.
“Fools all of you gar’as. Your limun is for nothing! I Draceros will be avenged.” Seeroth jumped as Taric spoke in a voice that wasn’t his own. That same bluish white light was shining from the young dwarves’ eyes as he hefted his hammers. The lancer’s shifted uneasily and the white robed dwarf gaped in astonishment.
“It’s about time!” Seeroth muttered as he sprang into action. The lancer nearest to Taric managed to bring his spear around to block the blow but was thrown back as the shaft splintered in his hands. The other three found their spears pointed into the air as Seeroth deflected them with one swing. His mace quickly found the gut of one lancer a moment before Taric seized his chest plate and hurled him at the wall. The other two lancers found that their thrusts at the old warrior to be futile against his faster moving mace. Taric’s hammers reduced another of the lances to fragments.
The rebel leader leaped into the fray with a long dirk in hand. He made for Taric’s back but found his target to be more than equal to the surprise. Taric twisted and planted an elbow on his face sending blood splattering everywhere and the robed dwarf flying. The two lancers, one without a lance, were retreating but Taric was moving faster and shoved the one into the wall while Seeroth was engaging the other. He had just disarmed the lancer when one of Taric’s hammers clanged off the lancer’s helmet. The last attacker’s helmet went flying as he crumpled to the ground.
“What happened?” Seeroth turned to see Taric looking around in bewilderment.
“You took out most of them so you tell me.” Seeroth slipped his mace into his belt and took a moment to catch his breath.
“I was standing with you by the door then I was h
ere and they were all... there.” Taric paused as he swept his arm over the entire room. “How did you disable them all so quickly?”
“I? I only disabled... well almost disabled one but I could have gotten more of them if you hadn’t interfered. By the way what does limun mean?” Seeroth kicked one of the senseless lancers before pulling a length of cord from a satchel fastened to his belt.
“How am I supposed to know?” Taric made his way through the wreckage to the bedside.
“You were the one that said it. Too bad we couldn’t save your friend.” Seeroth was searching the lancer for any hidden weapons as he tied him hand and foot.
“He is still alive. I think his pulse is getting stronger.” Taric held the human’s wrist like he had seen Roild do a dozen times.
“Impossible!” Seeroth abandoned his task and checked the pulse for himself.
“I can see his chest moving.” Taric observed with a look of wonder.
“It can’t be. His pulse is stronger than it was when you brought him in.” Seeroth started up with a hand on his mace.
“What happened?” Roild stood at the door with armor half equipped and battle axes in hand.
“Fool boy! It would have saved you a lot of agony if you had just listened to me.” Seeroth relaxed a little and returned to tying up the fighters scattered through the room.
“That was my choice to make and I alone will bear the consequences. Is Draceros alright?” Roild attempted to gingerly walk to one of the downed lancers and began following Seeroth’s example.
“They used the thirteenth shard on him but for some reason it didn’t kill him. Instead he seems to be getting better.” Seeroth gave the lancer one final kick before cutting the extra length of cord and tossing Taric and Roild a length.
“So what does that mean? Does he have a weapon now?” Taric asked as he began tying up another of the last lancer. The white robed rebel or rather the rebel with the red splattered robe began sitting up. Taric’s eyes flashed with light again and he emitted a deep rumbling growl until the dwarf's eyes rolled back and he collapsed again.
Chronicles of Den'dra: A Land Torn: Ancient Powers Awaken Page 32
