As if answering his call, a booming voice echoed in his head. “You've disappointed me, Levithion. You've abused the powers too long.”
“What right do you have?” Levithion shouted into the shadow, feeling his anger and fear rise.
“I have every right. You've crossed the line. You've enslaved this child of arcane since he was a boy. You've mixed the magics, both mine and hers. And then you have the audacity to step into my realm and question my authority? It's time you learned your place, wyrm!”
Kane slashed in, watching the beaming blade slice through the shadowed man's leg. Blood seeped from the wound soaking into the thick, black pants. “It seems I've found a weapon that will do the trick.” There was a joy in taunting the man that had gone through so much effort to do the same to him.
Be on your guard, Deidre. When I'm finished with this fool I'm coming for you. Lightning fast Levithion drew his sword and jabbed in, bending at the waist. The slightly curved blade rocketed toward Kane, aimed at his chest. Twisting his hips he watched the glowing weapon fly over his head, missing him.
Kane abandoned his strike, bringing the lower half of the blade up to deflect the incoming stab. He heard steel ring out as he knocked the weapon away from him. He side stepped, dodging a wide blow. Watching, he counted the time between attacks seeing if he'd close it. It was more than likely a trap designed to draw him in, only to have him too close to block. Counting through his routine, it never closed. It was a long shot, but he had to take it. He just had to be careful. Traps were something this being was all too skill in, and he didn't intend on being victimized again. Feigning right, the sword outstretched and aimed to stab mid chest, he rapidly dropped the tip and lunged in.
Levithion saw the decoy. He smiled, seeing him take the bait. Although the blinding light was throwing his perception off. He was too close to shut him off. Unable to defend, a sharp pain shot through his stomach. He glanced down finding the glowing blade buried to the hilt in him. The links of his chainmail glowed red, burning into his flesh. He watched as molten rings dripped from the sword that may as well have been forged from the sun itself.
Kane pushed his shoulder into the defeated doppelganger, ripping the sword upward. It split him with ease, tearing the rings apart like a hot knife into butter.
He watched, helpless to the damage that was befalling him. Weak, his sword slipped from his hand. It fell to the shadows disappearing from sight as all the others had.
“I told you, you underestimated me!” Looking into the dying figure's eyes he ripped the blade free, watching the imposter fall to his knees. Thick, onyx blood poured from the gaping chest wound. Kane felt a slight pleasure at the sight. He had more reason than most to hate the man, yet he felt pity more than anything. Though something inside him told him there was more to it than what the dying man had claimed. Those secrets would have to remain lost. He owed vengeance to the people of Dalmoura, and gods know how many others long before his arrival. Steeling himself he spun around, swinging the blade as hard as he could. It sank deep into his neck, passing through flesh and bone, to explode out the other side in a sickening pop. The force of the blow sent the body toppling over. The head bounced several times, coming to rest a few feet away. Set in his victory Kane watched the final fall of his enemy's chest, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. The sword shrank, disappearing into a foggy gray. He looked around watching the fog dilute the darkness. As if carried away on a light breeze the body faded out of sight.
A powerful voice echoed around him, leaving a strange comfort in the mist. “Well done, my son!”
Kane turned to see a large wolf on the edge of the evading shadow. The wolf approached, growing larger by the step. It was nearly dire in size and still growing. Stopping a few feet away, it shifted. The gray hair retreated revealing peach colored skin. Taking weight on its rear legs a man stood and approached the final few steps.
He stood several inches taller and had long, brown hair pulled into a tail. A dark brown reinforced leather plate covered his ches, and he wore matching bracers over his long sleeved tunic. He was unarmed, despite the empty sheath resting loosely at his hip.
There was a familiarity to the older man, but it was one he couldn't place. Kane studied the bright blue glow radiating from him, noting the similar traits he shared with Ravion. In fact this man looked like an older, stockier version of his friend. “Who are you?”
The man gave a light smile, both comforting and reassuring him. “My name is Marquel Santail. I’m your father.” He gave a shallow bow reminding him of the way Ravion had at their introduction, and hundreds of times since.
He knew it to be true. There was too much similarity between them, though doubts flew through his mind. Hoping his question wouldn't warrant offense Kane looked deep into the man, looking for answers beneath the surface. “Forgive me, but how am I expected to believe this? I've been in this place a while. I'm familiar with the tricks the shadow plays. This wouldn't be beyond the realm of possibilities.”
“No forgiveness needed. You've witnessed much and for that, I'm sorry. I'm also afraid that any proof I can offer would come from a form you've no reason to trust. It seems we're at an impasse, one which requires a choice from you.”
“I… I don’t understand?”
“I desire my son's return. Many years ago he was corrupted by a dragon. When the beast entered his body his mind was tainted. It wiped all memory from him, leaving a blank slate of who he formerly was. Fortunately he was found by a noble gentleman who instilled in him morals and virtue. Were it not for this man I fear to think of who he may have become. You have been successful in defeating the beast's corruption. But I assure you, it is not dead. When he told you, you were one in the same, he wasn't lying. It was the corruption that created the emptiness, later filled by an old man's virtues. That became the man you are today.” Marquel paused, placing his hand on Kane's shoulder. His eyes trailed from the man before him and onto the fog covered floor. “It pains me to say this, but the corruption cannot be shed until the memories have returned. Until you relinquish my son's body, Levithion's corruption will live on.” Bringing his piercing brown eyes back to meet with the younger man, he continued. ”You must both fall before you can truly rise.”
Kane sighed heavily. He was beginning to understand what the man was saying. “What happens once the corruption is gone?”
“For you, I'm afraid I don't know the specifics. But my son will reemerge. For Levithion, he's in a weakened state currently, both here and in the physical realm. If nothing changes, he'll regain his strength and continue his path. If you cast him out, he may rise again one day in the physical realm. But that's a problem for another time. He's currently of no threat to the lands you call home.”
“I don't know much about dragons, having only met a few. But why would such a beast go through the trouble of possessing your son. And more over, what would he hope to gain from it?”
“Sadly I'm unable to answer these questions, as I don't fully know. I can tell you that as one of the eldar races, there is more potential in you than you realize. Of the five eldar races, we are each gifted in our own ways. Dragons have the gift of foresight. For all I know he saw something in your life that drove his actions. Whether he achieved his goals or not is uncertain. Even the clairvoyant have their limits.” Marquel paused a moment, giving a gentle smile to the confused, yet resilient man. “So, may I please have my son back?”
A heavy sigh escaped him. Kane nodded, summoning the focus he'd found earlier. As before, he felt the power form in his hand. It wasn't nearly as strong as it had been. Opening his eyes he glanced at the summoned dagger, forged of a rolling smoke. Finding reassurance in the man's eyes, he spoke. “I suppose it had to happen sooner or later. If you’re telling the truth, everything will be alright. If not, at least I won’t be stuck in this place any longer.” Flipping the small blade toward him he plunged it into his chest, feeling a sharp pain erupt like a thousand needle pricks against his bare fles
h. A loud pop echoed in his mind sending doubt throughout his body. Dropping to his knees he felt cold. His body weakened, shaking uncontrollably.
Marquel caught him, kneeling beside the dying form. Holding him as best he could he stared into his eyes, hoping to bring comfort among the flood of pain and fear.
Kane stared into those deep, brown eyes finding concern for his well-being. That was enough to convince him it wasn't a trick. The reassuring smile faded his doubt. It didn’t hurt as much as he’d expected. Instead it was more of an uncomfortable numb. It started in his fingers and toes, slowly working its way toward his center. He couldn't feel his body. He was little more than a floating, fading head in a sea of fog. His vision was rapidly failing, leaving black blotches here and there. Each thundering heartbeat left another patch. He watched the man disappear and then himself. Once again, he was surrounded in darkness. This time it seemed different. He couldn't see anything. Not even his own body. He was but a thought lingering in an endless ocean.
A blinding light roused him. Memories flooded his mind. Opening his eyes, his childhood in the grove outside Winterhaven fell into place. He recalled Meaus sweeping him up, giving him a dagger. One by one his memories took their place, mixed with those of his lost years. There was so much time he'd missed. How was it possible he could have forgotten all that? The final pieces settled into place, his father's face came to him, and then his mother’s. Ravion watched over him, annoyed by his antics. He smiled, recalling he'd only acted out because he'd wanted to be just like him. Finally, his sister came into view. She was beautiful in her own right. If only he'd been able to find her. Wiping the sorrow of his failure away, he took comfort in her memory. Perhaps one day he could make it right. “I'm sorry for doubting you, Father.”
Marquel extended his hand, pulling the young dalari to his feet. “I'm just glad you're yourself again. I wish it could have happened much sooner.”
Demetrix took his father’s hand, gathering his bearings. He glanced at his naked form, unsure how he'd ended up that way. “In this pace my will is law?”
Marquel chuckled. “To a degree. There are limitations in the void. But for the most part, yes.”
Nodding his understanding Demetrix closed his eyes, extending his arms. The warmth of clothing grasped him, wrapping layers of cloth and leather around his frame. Inspecting the green and brown leather, covering him from shoulder to knee, he smiled his approval. A quiver hung from his side and two slender swords rested in separate compartments beside his arrows. An elegant bow ran down his back, waiting to be strung. The curved wood was wrapped in a dark brown with green runes running the length. The waxed string had an emerald glaze to it.
“I’m happy you were able to find yourself, my son. I wish I could spend more time with you, but I fear I must return to the void. There is much I would have of you, but your life is your own. Ravion has made strides to return our people to their former glory. He's on the right path and he may need your help.”
He started to fade. Hurrying his pace he added what little he could. “The alfar are spread thin and many have forgotten the old ways. They'll offer no resistance to the return. The Santail bloodline is but a fraction of our people. We take the aspect of the wolf. With your coming of age you are to carry the wolf as your brother does. Each of us carries the aspect of another animal. Your brother is the raven. Your sister, the phoenix. You, my son, are the hawk… ever watchful and wise. You'll need these tools in the coming years. Use them wisely and do not forget your people. I also wish you to know, your sister bore two children, twin girls. They'll fi—”
Demetrix watched his father fade into nothing leaving him alone once again. Taking a deep breath he felt a warmth he'd long since forgotten. The fog slowly drifted away revealing the council room floor.
Chapter XII
Mirror Mirror
The broken aura around the restrained man pulled itself together leaving a bright blue glow in its place. Demetrix struggled to move, feeling the leather binds around his body. He was lying on his back strapped to a toppled chair.
“Looks like he’s waking up.” Gareth stared down at the bound man hoping their plan had worked. With his grip tight on his sword he prepared himself for the worst.
Ravion watched intently, amazed by the healing glow. Its intensity burned brighter than any he'd seen before. Kneeling down he placed his hand on the man's chest. “Are you yourself?”
Demetrix felt a reassuring calm from the touch. Opening his eyes, he looked into the face of his brother. “More so than I’ve been in a long time. Though I'd imagine you need proof before you'll let me up.”
Ravion smiled. “That would be preferred.”
“You go by the name Ravion. In our tongue your name is Ra'dulen, which translates to raven wolf. If this isn't enough to verify a greater sense of personal knowledge, my birth name is Demetrix Santail, son of Marquel. I was born in the village of Winterhaven upwards of two-hundred and twenty eight years ago.”
Ravion froze, unable to process what he was hearing. Questions racing through his mind, he leaned in close enough so the others couldn't hear him. “Only one from that point in my life could know any of that. So believe me when I say, if you’re lying to me, you and I are going to have issues!” He pulled the tail on the central strap, unhooking it from the buckle.
Krenin picked the chair up sitting him upright. Gareth unbuckled the other straps, tossing them roughly in the council room table. Within moments Demetrix was free of his binds. He pulled himself up, standing on his own two feet for the first time in what felt like years. “Ravion, my brother, fear not. I speak truth. The age of dalari draws near. But first, I need a tailor. I feel dirty just wearing this tainted garb.”
An overwhelming pride swelled within Ravion. Lost in his emotion he grabbed his younger brother, hugging him tightly. “I'm glad to have you back! I feared I'd never see you again.” Releasing his hold he stared into his eyes, feeling the bond he hadn't experienced since he was a child. “Your clothes can wait, we’ve much to discuss.”
Returning to his seat, Ravion secured the satchel resting on the table. He opened the flap and removed the black book from within. Gently placing it upon the table in front of him, he sat quiet waiting for the others to take their seats. “We've already discussed the nature of this book in private. From what little I've been able to learn it serves as a sort of guide to the creation of this realm. I haven't found all its secrets, nor should I. That much power is too great for any one man to possess. Gareth, would you mind repeating where you came across this book?”
The one-eyed warrior squinted at the shimmering binding, recalling the day it came to his possession. “I tripped over the bag when I was fighting the dreu that took my eye. I've recalled how I got it many times, but none of it makes sense. It's almost as if the bag grabbed hold of me and held on for the ride.”
Ravion opened the book exposing the blank pages within. Flipping from one to another, he showed the empty contents to those in the room. “You alluded that you were able to view the writing on the pages. Would you mind telling us how you managed that?”
“Blood seemed to do the trick for me.”
“Blood?”
“Yes, blood. A single drop was all it took. It soaked into the page and returned as writing.”
“Doesn’t seem very sanitary. Oh well.” Drawing his dagger, Ravion laid a shallow gash along the backside of his forearm just deep enough to expose the red life fluid. The beading droplets hit the page, disappearing immediately. Almost as quickly as they’d vanished the pages sprang to life revealing passages, maps, pictures, and even the occasional spell.
Gareth leaned over, surprised by the scribing red lines forming on the page. “It didn’t show me even a fraction of that. What makes your blood so special?”
Ravion scanned the words paying special attention to even the smallest of details. “Because my people, or at least someone very familiar with my people, made this book!”
***
/> “You’re sure this is where you found him?” Ravion stared into the mirror watching the dulled reflection of his friends.
“Absolutely. My mace was here, what other evidence do you need?”
Demetrix ran his hand along the dust covered surface of the mirror. “What’s every portal have?” He turned to look at the others.
“Magic.” Krenin answered, giving a toothy smile.
“Two sides.” Ravion corrected.
“Exactly. This thing radiates magic unlike any I've felt before, but it’s not pulling. It’s pushing. If we're translating the book properly this is a portal. One side is here. Where’s the other?”
Ravion pulled the book from the satchel, flipping through the pages to a specific passage. They refused to hide their contents so long as he held possession of the tome. “All it says is ‘The world builder has grown unstable. Tasked by the gods we built the prison, locking it away behind reflections of the past. It was an unfortunate loss, but the good of all creation remains at stake. The doorway shall serve as the only link to our divine providence. May all those abandoned forgive us, for there was no other choice. Should the seals be broken, all hope is lost, for the gods have failed!' It's cryptic, but I can't shake the feeling that the dreu were trying to open this doorway. I can't imagine they succeeded. I'd think we'd know if a dark god was descending upon our world, but we also have to assume they made some progress. As protectors of this land, I believe if falls on us to reestablish any broken seals that may have been damaged.”
Gareth listened intently, absorbing the words. “You want to go into some unknown prison with an evil god and make sure he hasn't broken free? You know I have your back, but that is the stupidest idea I've ever heard escape your mouth. That's no different than unlocking a cell that holds the most vile of creature just to see if it was actually locked in the first place. Why would you risk it?”
The Order of the Trident: Speculum (Eldarlands Book 2) Page 15
