“Yes, there is. You are just not looking correctly.” It was Aristan. Tovi wished that Myhrren were there to help.
“He has his job to do. I have mine.” A note of mirth came with the thought. “Look carefully at the castle wall. Do you see the darkened area, that circle just in front of you?”
Tovi crept forward. The only light in the area came from reflections, apparently generated by torches in the main courtyard. He put his hand on the wall in an area that looked darker than the rest.
“Yes, that is the area. Now, my small friend, withdraw your dagger and hold it, blade up, directly in front of the spot. When the opening appears, move quickly inside. Once the dagger is out of sight, it will close within seconds.”
Tovi reached over and grabbed the dagger. As he withdrew it, a creamy lilac glow emanated. He held it as instructed. The door appeared. He glanced around at Ran and Ben. “I’m going now.” Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the darkness.
Chapter 87: Crystal Sands
Marzi found Saryn at the oasis. It wasn’t that hard, though. The small grove of trees surrounding the pool of cool, crystal clear water had become the place for people to visit when they needed to rest or meditate. The peace and beauty of the setting had a way of soothing the soul.
“I thought I might find you here.” Marzi eased out of the moonlight and into a dark shadow of a palm tree. “May I sit down with you?”
She could barely make out his nod. He remained silent.
The words had to come, but Marzi couldn’t summon them. There were no words, it seemed, to express what she felt. It was far beyond grief and guilt—something else entirely. Despite Valyn’s words of encouragement, a blackness had descended over Marzi’s heart. She had insisted on going to see Saige alone. If she had just listened to Saryn, it might have gone differently. But, no, she had to have her own way. It was as though she had learned nothing. She was still the spoiled teenager that taunted her brother back in Pangrove.
There was nothing to do but try. “Saryn, I’m so sorry.” Beyond inadequate. She put her hand on his.
“You did nothing wrong.” His words came out full of pain.
“What you did, it saved my life.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t find any words, Saryn.”
He took her hand in both of his. “Marzi, what happened with my mother was not about you. She had lost her way. I know that. If it had not been you, it would have been something else. The fault lies with me. I should have confronted her and stopped this much earlier. I had seen it coming for some time, even before you arrived at the cliffs. The quest for knowledge and power had become intoxicating. It dominated her. And I, indeed all of us at the cliffs, went along because… I do not know why we went along. Perhaps it was easier than not.”
Valyn’s signature scent of jasmine, lemon, and lilac preceded her and wafted through on a light breeze. The oasis came aglow in soft tones of emerald and gold. The goddess appeared, and her words were not in Marzi’s head but came to her ears. “I offer greetings, Saryn and Marzi. I come to you in this dark time so that you will know the truth and, therefore, some measure of comfort. For you, Marzi, as I have told you before, this was not of your doing. You must release your sense of guilt and embrace your purpose.”
Valyn paused and moved closer to the elf. “Saryn, I come tonight to speak with you. Your pain has brought you to the edge of complete despair. You must realize that you did not kill your mother. Yes, you loosed the arrow that pierced her heart. But the mother you knew and loved had already died. A darkness had poisoned her soul. Whether you choose to believe it or not, your act released the darkness and set her free. She is here with me now. Although she is not ready at this moment, in the days to come, her spirit will visit and speak with you. But for now, you must continue on. In your world, there is much to do.”
Saryn stared at the image, his tears flowing freely. He looked as though he wanted to speak but no words came. Finally, he nodded and lowered his gaze.
Valyn continued, “Your duties await. You are leader of the cliff elves. You must help them find their way, which will not be an easy task. They are dark elves, cousins to those in the Bough, and yet they have adapted their own ways. Finding peace and balance will challenge both sides. But with leaders of good faith, you will come to understand that you are much stronger for the relationship.”
The goddess backed away and turned to Marzi. “And you must be about your business as well. Even as we speak, there is a meeting in progress that requires your presence. Make haste back to the encampment, both of you. Decisions are being made that will affect the future of all of the races.”
The glow faded along with her scent. Marzi gazed across the moonlit sands toward the encampment. “I guess we should go.” And she held out a hand to Saryn.
◆◆◆
“Marzi, how delightful to see you again.” Maw’thryn embraced the Azyrean as she entered the tent.
Rintaur stood beside the archivist, a broad smile on his face. “Yes, it is good to see you safe.” He shifted his gaze to Saryn, who had come in behind Marzi. Embracing the young cliff elf, the lord consort spoke softly, “There are no words to convey my sorrow. Just know that my heart is with you, my brother.”
Saryn nodded, his reddened eyes filling again with tears.
Ariessa interrupted the moment. “I think we are all acquainted, but just to be sure…” she gestured around the room. “Elondiel, Saryn, and I represent the elven leadership. Klunk speaks for the ogre chiefs and Kharla leads their troops in battle. Myhrren is the ogre spiritual leader,” the empress paused as though to consider her words, “of sorts, I suppose. Marzi, of course, we all know. Brother Andrew has come to us from Ebon Hills, in Caravast, bearing this cloak.” She pointed to the folded garment, sitting once again in its box. “And from the Twilight Bough, Lord Rintaur and Maw’thryn, our archivist, who was just examining the artifact.”
“Yes, yes. As I was saying, there is much to know about it. First, as you might have guessed, this is no ordinary cloak. The old writings refer to it as the Cloak of Truth. The significance of the title is vague. But the runic symbols around the border give us clues. First, a little history. We all—well, the elves anyway—are familiar with the story of Nelwyn, the elven warrior maiden who fell in the last great war. She wore the cloak into battle, where she died. After that, we have no mention of it. Presumably it was lost or taken, but by whom and where it was kept had remained unknown. But with good Brother Andrew’s arrival, those questions have been answered.”
Marzi understood. That’s where she had seen the cloak—on the spirit of Nelwyn, who had visited her. The Azyrean peered at the silky material but avoided moving closer. She remembered what had happened the last time she approached it.
Maw’thryn continued, “So, now that we have filled in those gaps, let us turn to the cloak itself. These runes speak of the bearer, but not by name. Here,” he pointed to symbols along the lower left side, “it speaks of choosing a bearer. This is important because it tells us that it belongs to whomever it says it belongs to. The wearer does not get to make this choice. How it goes about providing this distinction, I confess that I know not.”
Ariessa nodded. “I think we have seen how that works. Marzi, please approach the cloak.”
Marzi’s heart skipped a beat. She inched forward. and, as she feared, the material began to glow with an ethereal white light. She closed her eyes and tried to will the sign away.
Maw’thryn’s words came out filled with wonder. “So, it is true. The cloak decides.” He looked at Marzi and smiled, “And this, my child, is why that day in the archives I said you reminded me of Nelwyn.”
Marzi looked up to see the archivist staring at her in amazement.
He turned his attention back to the symbols. “And here it says that the cloak and its purpose is eternal, transcending mortal life. I take that to mean that Marzi wears the cloak only so long as she pursues its purpose. It would seem that,
afterward, it will pass to another.”
Finally, some good news. She would not be stuck with this forever. “But for what purpose? And why do I need to wear it?”
The archivist chuckled. “Good questions indeed, my young friend. Let us read further. See here, across the top, the symbols state that the wearer is imbued with the power to inspire others, to pull them from despair and darkness into the light.” He reached up and scratched the side of his head. “But on the right side, near the top, we find a warning. If the bearer veers from the path of truth and good, the cloak will drag them into despair and defeat.”
Elondiel stepped forward. “If all that is true, how did Nelwyn fall? With the cloak, she should have been able to inspire the elves to victory. And would the cloak allow itself to be taken by the human army and kept secluded all these years?”
Rintaur, who had remained back from the group, cleared his throat. “It would seem that the elven march to war was in conflict with the purpose and value of the cloak. We do know, from our history, that the elves and humans conspired against the ogres. As it turned out, the elves were betrayed by their co-conspirators, but that does not make them noble. It was an immoral war. And, that being the case, the cloak did as Maw’thryn said it would, drag the wearer to despair and defeat.”
The archivist nodded as he appeared to consider Lord Rintaur’s words. “There would seem to be truth in what you say. This helps us, in some ways, to understand Marzi’s role. But it also confounds and contradicts much of what we tend to believe. The cloak, by all appearances, seems to have chosen her. This is consistent with Valyn’s words. So, if we are to believe this, then we must accept that there is some specific purpose for Marzi and that the cloak will serve her so long as she remains on the right path. If she falls off that path, though, it will serve to defeat us all.”
Marzi shook her head. “But what is the purpose?” Even as she spoke, Valyn’s words echoed back through her head—peacemaker. But how could she make peace unless the war was won?
Elondiel spoke again, “I submit to the group that Marzi is probably not meant to lead our forces in battle. That means that our victory, at least in the military sense, will depend on other things. We have forces at the portal and the ogre troops here at the encampment. Perhaps they are the keys to winning.”
Myhrren entered the conversation for the first time. “Let us not forget young Tovi. The lad is the key to banishing Dredwyn. Without that, fighting the human horde that pours through the portal will be meaningless.
Saryn, appearing more composed, weighed in, “Which brings us back to Marzi and the cloak. If our troops must hold out against the human invaders and Tovi must act to banish the demon, what responsibility falls onto Marzi’s shoulders?”
“Valyn said that I am not a warbringer but a peacemaker. And she also told me, just tonight, that this will all happen at the portal. So, whatever it is that I am supposed to do, I must travel to the site.” As an afterthought, she added, “And she said that I need to get there fast.”
Chapter 88: Crystal Sands
Marzi threw her arms around Elle’s waist and hugged tight. “How are you? I’ve missed you so much.”
Ellemareth knelt and put her hands on Marzi’s shoulders. “I have missed you as well. But what is this thing, this cloak you are wearing? How does it glow?” Her eyes widened as she inspected the material. “These are elven runes. Where did you get this?”
Marzi told the story. Elle grew somber, her eyes filling with sorrow, as the Azyrean described the events of the past few days.
“How is Saryn, then?”
“He is… as you might expect him to be.” Marzi wasn’t quite sure how to answer the question. She was amazed that the cliff elf had risen to his duties. But the stoicism on his face couldn’t hide the pain in his heart. “It isn’t fair that he had to do that. But I’m not sure of anything anymore, Elle.”
“I know what you mean, Marzi.” She paused before continuing, “Have you heard anything from Tovi? Is he okay?”
“Yes. Like I said, Brother Andrew from Ebon Hills came over. He said that Tovi, Ran, and Mathias had arrived and were doing well.” Marzi forced a smile. “Where is Rys? I wanted to say hi to her. I haven’t seen her in, gosh, I don’t know, maybe a week or two. It seems like forever.”
The elf offered a soft laugh. “She is making inspection rounds of all the encampments with the human captain.”
“So, what? Ryshara is leading the elves here?”
“I do not know that I would characterize it like that. However, she does seem to be leading the handsome human captain around quite handily.”
“Oh,” escaped a surprised and blushing Marzi as Elle’s meaning took hold.
Elle stood and grinned, then said, “Come, I will take you to her.”
As the two made their way around the hill to the south of the opening, Marzi spotted Rys and Virgil. They stood, their backs against a large boulder, engaged in conversation. Even from this distance, Ryshara looked different, older maybe. She was smiling. “Hey, Rys.” Marzi called out as they approached.
At the sound of Marzi’s voice, Ryshara turned. When she recognized the source of the shout, the elf bolted from her position and embraced the Azyrean. “Marzi. How wonderful to see you. It has been so long.”
“I know. I’ve missed all of you.”
“What are you doing here, though? We may see the invaders at any time. There is great danger here.”
Marzi forced a laugh. “You know how it is with Valyn. She tells me to do things but neglects to tell me why.”
Rys shook her head and smiled. “I guess that being a god allows one to do such things. I must be getting back to my duties. Perhaps tonight, at the meal, we can talk….”
A shout interrupted the elf’s words. “Come quick! It’s happening.”
Virgil broke into a run, followed by Ryshara. Ellemareth knelt quickly. “Marzi, you must move away from this area. Seek cover out beyond the elven longbows.” She pointed into the desert at small figures arrayed around the hill. With that, she broke into a run away from the hill and toward the north.
Marzi followed her. Technically, she was moving away from the hill. But something told her that she could not hide from what was coming. While it might not be her job to fight, she had a purpose and it was at the battle lines, not hiding in the background. As she reached the line of elven bowmen, she turned to see Ryshara take position at the front of the ranged fighters and Captain Virgil approach the opening in the hill.
As if from nowhere, a huge swirl of sickly green and purple light, easily larger by twice the size of an elf, appeared in front of the opening. Out of this stepped a thing. Marzi took a few steps forward, not believing her eyes. She continued toward the invader.
“Brysten?” Only not Brysten. It looked like the traitor elf of the Quel’dethain Mountains but very different. This new thing was nearly twice the size of anything standing before it. The pale skin of the elf had deepened into a putrid shade of green. The ears had lengthened and curled and its eyes shot beams of purple and white light. An evil smile painted its lips. The figure undulated, its arms waving at its side. Whatever this being was, there was not much left of the elven woman Marzi remembered.
The Brysten thing stood before Captain Virgil. The voice that emanated assaulted Marzi’s spirit. “What is this? A human? I confess you are not what I expected. Might you be one of the rebels, the dregs of human society that has fled in terror? Yes?”
The captain drew his great sword and bent into a crouch. “You seem good with words. What of your fighting skills?” He drew near to the thing.
Brysten burst out cackling. “Fighting? Is that what you want from me? Be careful what you ask for, human.” The thing stepped aside, appearing to survey the assembled forces—humans close in and the elves at range. “All of this, for me? I am impressed and honored.”
Virgil shifted once again to stand directly in front of her. “Are you here to talk or to fight?”
> In an instant, the misshapen elf’s arm shot out and knocked Virgil down. “Watch your tone, little one.”
The human rolled aside and sprang to his feet, greatsword held in front of him with both hands. “So, it is fighting you want. Then let us be about it.” He charged, swinging downward at an angle.
Brysten howled in laugher as she floated to the side. “You will need to move much faster.”
Virgil recovered, eased backward, and went into a crouch. Moving in a circle around the thing, he feinted in and then withdrew, drawing no reaction whatsoever.
“Your reputation for mediocrity is well-deserved, Captain. No wonder you left the king’s service. I suppose that someone with your meager skills could easily impress the rabble. But now you see the futility of engaging a true warrior.”
The captain leapt forward, swinging his sword from right to left.
Like a flash, the thing grabbed the human’s right arm and stopped it in mid-swing, laughing all the while. “Tsk, tsk. You just cannot seem to find your rhythm.” With what seemed minimal force, it hurled the young human backwards, his sword flying from his hands.
And then it was upon him. With full force, it kicked the side of his head and then fell upon his chest with its knee. “Not so brave now, eh, Captain? This, my young human, is what it feels like to fail. I will grant you a few seconds to look around. See all the people who were counting on you, all the people who looked up to you. They are standing now, waiting to see you die. And die you shall, but not before you understand the full magnitude of your defeat. My forces will soon come through that portal to find a demoralized and defeated band of humans and elves. The ogres will fall down upon the ground and worship me. At the right hand of Dredwyn, I will march across the desert, taking what I will. At his side, I will transcend time and space. I will know immortality and absolute power. While you, my pitiful man, will know only the disappointment of death. And your body will decay in the desert sun as it provides easy pickings for rodents and birds. This is your destiny.” Brysten raised a hand, glowing with a sickly green fire.
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