The Order of the Trident: Speculum (Eldarlands Book 2)

by Samuel Rikard

  An unexpected voice echoed in the small chamber, drawing their attention. “I’m afraid you have little choice.” Perrimen stood at the entrance, taking in the sight of the three men and their half-orc. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Ravion took a knee, bowing before the former baron. “My Liege, what would you have of us?”

  “I would have you stand. I’m not your baron. You really must accept this.”

  Ravion returned to his feet, welcoming the powerful human. “You’ll always be my baron. Regardless of any respect I have for the lords and their titles, I’ve sworn oath to no other.”

  “Spoken like a true warrior of the dalari.” Perrimen paced toward the mirror, stopping just in front of it.

  Ravion watched the man, recalling their last meeting. “What brings you here, if it’s my place to know?”

  “In truth I came seeking you, all of you. Since the fall of the dreu a vast darkness has set over Dalmoura. It was slowed with the banishment of your alter-ego.” He turned, speaking directly to Demetrix. “But it continues to build. I fear time for containment has passed. The source is stopped or all will be lost. The Tower is no more. They didn’t heed my warning quick enough. The base stones were corrupted beyond repair. Perhaps she’ll return in time, but alas I cannot promise. A darkness has set in the heart of Shadgull. Tresengal is without an experienced lord. Mount Thuran hides behind their walls, ignoring the rest of us. I'm afraid the last pockets of resistance fall between Marbayne and Krondar. Since one is currently supporting the other, this task falls to your order.”

  “What would the source of this corruption be?” Gareth interjected, testing the mage, knowing there wouldn't be a direct response.

  “That I cannot answer, wish as I may. Sadly I’m just a broken man with little more than a handful of knowledge to pass along.” He returned his focus to the mirror, looking into its dark surface. Running his hand along the edge, he refused to touch it. “The shadow threatens us beyond this speculum. I doubt it can truly be stopped, but if anyone can slow it down I believe you to be our best chance.” Spinning around Perrimen marched toward the entrance, giving his final bits of information. “As for your current predicament I’d suggest asking your new friends about this mirror’s twin. I believe they’ll be able to offer more knowledge than I. Ravion, keep it close. You’ll need it.” Reaching the entryway he paused, looking over the group of dreuslayers one final time. “I wish you the utmost success. We're all counting on you, whether we know it or not.” Without another word he stepped into his unhindered door of swirling energy and disappeared.

  “I hate when they do that.” Gareth shook his head, walking toward the mirror. “I’ll never see eye to eye with his brother. Impossible on two fronts now, but I understand he is not his brother. I know you trust him. It’s not like they’re many dreu left for me to play with here.” He placed his hand on Ravion's shoulder. “I’ll follow your lead on this one.”

  Demetrix and Krenin approached the pair, awaiting a decision.

  ***

  “I don’t care what it says! I don’t want anything to do with that book.” Senaria turned away, refusing to look at the pages.

  “It’s not my intention to press, I just need to know what you know about the mirrors.” Ravion closed the book, shoving it back into the satchel. Pulling out a chair, he took a seat. “Please enlighten me and I’ll be out of your hair, never to ask you about it again.

  She turned to face him. Approaching him she sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She kissed him in the cheek. “You and I both know what would happen the next time I have knowledge you might need.”

  He found it strange to think of her as one of the dreualfar. She seemed so familiar despite the coldness she often displayed when protecting her people. She was strong and capable. Traits he was all too familiar with. A faint smile breached his lips. “An unfortunate side effect to my position. I'm sorry. I know you don't want to talk about your past, and I don't mean to pry.”

  She sighed heavily, keeping her arms around him. “The dreualfar have a myth about their creation. It’s said a dark mirror sucked the magic from their bodies, turning them into warriors of the night. A few different myths have come and gone, but that’s always been the general perception.”

  Releasing her hold she stretched across him, grabbing the table's edge to keep herself firmly seated against him. Finding the hidden lever, she watched the edges of the drawer appear. Pulling it open she grabbed a stack of parchment and quickly flipped through, finding one in particular that was torn around the edges and stained with yellow and black. It appeared as if someone had tried burning it. There were several small holes throughout and the corners were nearly gone. Handing the aged sheet to him, she continued. “Shortly after Nezail took power rumors surfaced that someone had found a map to Eldarian. I don’t know if there was any truth to it, at least until I found that. I believed it nothing more than a rumor. The council was known to circulate such rumors to promote work among the less willful. Even those of us driven by an unquenchable blood thirst found solace in the prospect of a life away from battle. We were little more than slaves to the council's will. We'd work ourselves to death in pursuit of a simple life, only for another to come along and pick up where we left off. Many of us learned their tricks and simply stopped playing. But thousands others had no choice. It kept the council in power and distracted the rest of us from rising up. So when I found this map, I didn't believe what it was.” Senaria gestured for him to look at it.

  Ravion unfolded the parchment and studied the markings stained into the rough surface. He could see the forest's edge of what he guessed was Evinwood. Near the northwest corner of the forest there was an opening labeled by a jutting tower and a freestanding archway beneath it. It wasn't much to go on, but it was better than anything else he had. Folding the map, he returned his attention to her.

  “The myth claims that the mirror is in Eldarian. If this map is real that's where you'll find it. Though I must admit, I hope you never find it. Nothing good has come from that place.” Pressing her lips against his, she held him for several moments. Breaking away, she looked deep into his eyes. “I don't want to lose you.”

  “I don't want to lose you either. I’m sorry for asking you to recall darker times. I know those memories haunt you. I swear to you here and now. I won't ask you to do so again, even if you're the only person who has the knowledge I seek. I'd rather go without than to force you to relive that life.” He pulled her tight, feeling her warmth. “I'm afraid this is something I must do. I don't know what it will require of me or even how long I'll be gone. Just know that I love you. I'll be back to you as soon as I'm able.”

  Senaria stood, allowing him to rise. “Please be careful. I don't want to know what life feels like without you.” She wrapped her hands in his, feeling their connection stronger than ever.

  “Be safe, my love. If you require anything in my absence send a message to Marbayne. I’ve left specific instructions with a loyal operative named William Carter. He'll handle any situations that may arise with the utmost discretion.” Ravion pulled her close, bringing his lips to hers. It was a lingering kiss, one that nearly stopped time. He didn't know how long he'd be away from her. If this was his last kiss he wanted it to be a memorable one. Breaking away he looked into those almond shaped eyes, full of love. “I'll see you soon.”

  Senaria knew he wasn't being fully honest. She could feel the uncertainty in him. He didn't know if he was going to come back any more than she did. Such was the life of a soldier. Each time they marched into battle they took a chance on it being their last. She forced a smile, reassuring him. “Thank you, my love. I'll dream of you every night your away, longing for the day you're in my arms again. Please, be careful. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”

  ***

  The jagged vines wrapped around the black structure, leaving an eerie feeling in the air. The ground
was cracked in all directions. Little more than dead grass and vicious, barbed weeds sprouted through the desolate dirt, strangling anything they could find.

  Krenin stared into the face of an orc statue erected at the entrance of the temple, the only structure that remained completely unhindered by the dead lands surrounding it. “It feels like his eyes are following me.” He wobbled back and forth, testing his theory.

  “Often times such artifacts are designed to entice that feeling. It makes the observer feel uneasy and therefore easier to manipulate.” Demetrix knocked on the statue listening to the solid stone against his knuckles. “See, it’s only stone.”

  “Let’s just get this over with. I don’t like the smell of this place.” Gareth stepped through the cracked opening, pushing against the stone door in his path. It opened freely, granting them access. Ready to draw his twin cutlasses if needed, Gareth marched into shadow.

  Ravion followed closely behind, lost in the architecture around him. He could see the clear signs of his people, but these markings were something else. They flowed like eldar, but the symbols weren't of any dialect he'd seen before. He made his way into the ancient temple, dwarfed by the sheer space around them.

  “Seeing anything?” Krenin asked, searching the room for anything of interest.

  “Over there.” Gareth pointed his cutlass toward the altar on the far side of the room. One of the nearby doors stood open, awaiting their entry. “Only open door I've seen. I'd guess that’s where the previous visitors ventured.”

  The group crossed the room, finding the small antechamber off the side of the nave. Stepping into the ancient stairwell, the walls flared to light. The mounted scones glowed a purple flame, illuminating their descent around the twisting corridor. Reaching the bottom they passed into the small room. A pile of purple stone lay crumbled in the center and the rear wall was reflective, much like the mirror they'd previously seen.

  Ravion felt a strange familiarity with the stone. He could feel the dagger calling to him, begging to be touched. Fighting against its will he stepped past the crumbled statue and approached the ancient speculum. Pressing his hand against it the semi-solid surface sent ripples out, expanding from his touch. “It looks like this is the place.” Talking a deep breath he walked through, feeling the water-like substance swallow him.

  One by one they pressed onward leaving the dark chamber behind them.

  Chapter XIII

  Through the Looking Glass

  The stench of decay and dirt filled the room, leaving a sense of dread to linger in the forgotten crypt. The ancient stones surrounding them were covered with dark green moss clinging to the crumbling mortar, like ivy following the grooves. Several memorial plots lined the side walls, worn smooth in time and colored white from age. The patchy gray stones between the hanging moss made the dark chamber feel constricting and isolated. A single arched tunnel, filled with stairs angled upward from the center of the far wall, disappearing from sight.

  Demetrix ran his fingers over one of the worn stones, feeling what was left of the carvings. They were too shallow to see and even harder to feel. He glanced up seeing Krenin step through the flowing mirror. “They’re nearly worn off.”

  Ravion glanced over at his brother. “What?”

  “The names and dates. They’re nearly worn off. If we could find a date we stand a chance at figuring out where we are.”

  “We’re not gonna find anything in this crypt. I say we see what’s outside, maybe there’s a town nearby.” Refusing to wait for objections Gareth marched toward the decrepit stairway leading up from the tomb.

  Krenin followed after Gareth, watching the bald man disappear from sight. He ducked at the top of the archway to keep from hitting his head on the low hanging keystone.

  “Maybe we should check the book?” Ravion grabbed for the leather satchel feeling its lack of weight. Frantically pulling the flap open he peered inside, confirming the book's absence. Fear crept inside him. How are we going to get home without direction? “It’s missing!” Pulling against the seams he searched for holes, but found none. Sighing heavily he accepted the fact it was gone. They were on their own. Subconsciously he reached inside his vest, wrapping his hand around the wicked kris tucked away from sight. He couldn't explain it, but holding the blade made him feel comfortable. It was as if his worries weren't so severe when the weapon was in his hand.

  “It's not in here. And I doubt we can go back to find it. Best thing we can do is keep moving forward.”

  Demetrix watched his brother's face. He was discouraged more than he'd ever shown in the past. There was something larger going on with him. He just didn't know what. Though if Ravion had a secret there was a reason for keeping it. He'd talk when the time was right. Approaching, he patted him on the back. “Let's go. Gareth's liable to start a war if we don't keep him out of trouble.”

  Ravion chuckled at the thought, marching toward the arch.

  Gareth pushed against the rotten wooden door. The wood was soft and moist, leaving a spongy residue on his hands. Stepping out into the derelict graveyard Gareth looked around. The trees were tall and ominous, seeming to be eternally absent their leaves with the lack of foliage on the ground. The wicked branches stretched in all directions showing dark contrasts to the cloudy, gray sky. It was clearly daylight though the sun had trouble penetrating the rolling, dark clouds. Instead it filtered through laying a soft glow over the frigid and uninviting landscape. The weather held a gloomy chill that only autumn could bring. The vegetation littering the ground was just as welcoming, twisted around anything it could reach, strangling it with thick vicious barbs and constricting bands. He recalled the weeds in Eldarian, finding an uncomfortable similarity between the two.

  “See a town?” Krenin glanced around clearly unimpressed by his findings.

  “Does it look like I've found a town?” Gareth searched the horizon in all directions. It was difficult to make out any structures past the sea of dead trees.

  “No!”

  Shaking his head at the half-orc's literal interpretation of sarcasm, he found himself missing Malakai. The man was always good for keeping the brute distracted with such simple concepts. Taking a deep breath he continued his search.

  The soft glow above the clouds faded at an exceptional rate turning the gray sky into a black, starless night. It happened so fast their eyes hadn't had a chance to adjust to the change. In the distance a branch snapped, drawing their attention. Jumping into defensive positions the group drew their weapons, ready to face whatever foes presented themselves.

  A low moan echoed through the dark, barren forest sending a cold shiver down their spines. Another followed, and another, each time moving closer. It was clear there was more than one, many more in fact, though it was hard to tell exactly how many.

  “Do you hear that?” Ravion asked, searching the total darkness for a source. He wasn't used to his vision in this place. Such a change shouldn't have left him blinded, yet he couldn't see anything.

  “Of course I hear it. What the hell is it would be a more suitable question.” Gareth scoffed. “Can you see anything?”

  “Nope. It reminds me of that spell the dreu use, but that's a small area. I've never seen it on this scale before.” Ravion kept his sword at the ready, using the tip to test his reach.

  Demetrix held his newly forged swords in front of him trying to focus his vision in the darkness. “I've been in this kind of dark before. We need to keep our eyes open for a mage.”

  “Krenin don’t see anything.”

  The moans increased, both in volume and quantity. They sounded like they were right on top of them.

  Several bright sparks erupted, flaring up to reveal the head of a torch. Krenin looked out from the flame spotting his friends. “Krenin can see.”

  “My theory is shot. A torch won't burn through magic darkness.”

  The flickering dim light surrounded them, revealing several humanoid creatures on the edge of their sight. Their features
were sunken, leaving little more than rotting flesh clinging to bone. Some were whole while others were missing limbs or had their stomachs torn open, revealing a gaping hole where their entrails had once been. The walking corpses varied from human to alfar. Even the occasional orc stood among them, standing tall above the rest.

  “Undead!” Gareth swung his swords cutting into the closest one. The blade cleaved deep, snapping bone. He jumped back, avoiding the deadly talons clawing at him. “Breaking bone seems to be useless. Any ideas on how to kill them?”

  Ravion swiped, aiming for the creature’s neck. Dancing around to avoid the claw-like talons reaching for him, he cut the arm off another zombie. “I’ve heard you can bash them or sever their heads, but I really don’t know. I’ve never actually met one.”

  Krenin swung his axe, biting deep into the midsection of one of the orcs. The thick blade tore a large hole in the leather-like skin. Soggy dirt fell from the wound, but the creature continued toward him. Spinning around, his second axe took its head off. The creature's body fell to the forest floor, its head landing a few feet away. He watched it stagger from the blow trying to pull itself together, though it didn’t seem cognitive enough to pick itself up. “I drop one. It still moving, but not toward me.”

  Demetrix spun around letting his blades extend. The keen blades cut into the neck of the closest one. Keeping his momentum he sliced into another, sending its head to the dirt. Like the others they fell, but continued to move. “I’ve encountered undead before. Typically taking the heads off will kill them. But these things, they just won’t die. We need to get the hell out of here.”

  Several flashes exploded in the darkness around them. The blinding light left them staggered, unable to see anything other than a yellow glow. Their eyes slowly adjusted to find a wall of flame on all sides. The undead retreated from the blinding light, leaving the few that were too damaged to walk behind. They held their weapons tight, ready for what was to follow. Several humans and alfar dropped from outstretched trees, landing in the burning trap with them. They rapidly plunged thick spears into the loose heads of the undead, watching the bodies fall still.