Sunlight broke through to banish the gloom. Birdsong filled the treetops. Wild flowers replaced the vines and scrub brush. Dead leaves and broken branches turned into soft, lush grass of the deepest green. Broken marble columns dotted the clearing. What remained of a massive building dominated the center. Sunlight reflected off the alabaster walls. Kavan halted the group as they beheld a sight unseen by mortal eyes in a very long time. This had once been the epicenter of the lost kingdom of Wenx.
Before them stood a wizened old Elf in a faded brown robe, leaning on a walking staff. They had arrived.
TWENTY-FOUR
The Oracle
“My name is Anthemos,” said the ancient Elven sage.
Age had not been kind. Once tall, lean, and proud, Anthemos was barely five feet tall and hunched over. His muscles had wasted away. All that remained of his youth was a sharpened mind through the unbending will of the oracle. His life was dedicated to the power of Wenx. Deep lines etched his weathered face. His eyes, once bright and full of promise, had a dull shine and were partially concealed beneath bushy eyebrows.
“Your coming is an ill tide for all Malweir,” he continued in a gravelly voice. “Long has it been foretold that three sons of Gaimos would come in search of us to combat the sudden resurgence of ancient evil.”
Pirneon dismounted and stood before the Elf. “You know us?”
Anthemos cackled in delight. “It has been foretold. The enemy of life is rising once again. Some are chosen to rise against it. You have been chosen. Such is the way of the world. All life is cyclical. Good banished evil once, long before Man came upon these shores. Now that same evil is trying to return. Darkness creeps across the lands. Are you strong enough to stand before it?”
Geblin yelped and hid behind Barum. Anthemos looked up with a forgotten twinkle in his eye.
“Do not fear, Geblin. Your part in this tale is long. Without you, these bold few stand little chance of success.”
Geblin took heart despite the doubts manifesting in his mind. He was no hero, never wanted to be one. Time and again, he only wanted to be left alone and forget these reckless knights and their ceaseless battles. If what the oracle predicted was true, he might never have the chance.
“Come,” Anthemos told them all. “The oracle awaits, and time is not in your favor.”
Kavan alone kept his hand on his sword.
“There is no need for that, knight of Gaimos,” Anthemos said. “This place is well protected by forces more powerful than any of you possess. Even yours, lady.”
Aphere startled. She knew the oracle was aware of her power. The link between them had descended into the core of her soul. She was laid bare for them to see and now, standing before the Elf, felt naked. She was also emboldened. She might finally get the answers that had long eluded her.
“You’re not the oracle?” Pirneon asked, too stern for his liking.
Anthemos continued walking. “No. I am but a humble servant. What strengths I have are nothing in comparison. Just as you, Knight Marshal of forgotten Gaimos. We are but singular drops in the vast ocean of time.”
Pirneon took the insult in stride. It had been a long time since any had the audacity to talk him down. “Let us see this wonder of the ancient world and be about our journey. As you say, time is not our ally.”
The Elf barely sighed. He alone knew what future awaited these knights. Some would go on to fame and glory. Others would fall into ruin and darkness. It was the same from every group of adventurers come to seek the wisdom of the oracle. This band of heroes would fare no different. Sadness swelled in his heart. He’d been expressly forbidden to expose any sign of what fate belonged to whom. A wrong word had the potential to irrevocably damage the fabric of the future. So the aging Elf held his tongue, content with his role as a mere observer.
They followed him into the temple ruins. Once past the outer façade, they bore witness to the most spectacular scene. Anthemos explained the ruins were designed to deter would-be treasure seekers and looters. A ring of marble columns surrounded circling stairs winding deep into the ground. Torches lined the finished flagstone way, reflecting hotly off the polished silver finish. Blossoming cherry trees were sprinkled at random among the columns, producing a serene effect. The sun was directly overhead.
All of this was impossible, yet the Elf didn’t argue. He merely smiled and gestured towards the stairwell. The knights huddled together, silently conferring. Aphere didn’t hesitate. She felt inexplicably drawn to the power of the waiting oracle. Since her initial contact, she felt more than what she was. She couldn’t say for certain, but it felt as if her mental abilities and the change in her blood gift had developed beyond even the imagination of Kistan. If that were the case….
“Who built this place?” asked Barum. Both he and Anthemos walked at the rear of the group.
The Elf shrugged. “Who can say? The world is filled with many wonders and nightmares. This is a place of power. Much the same as the nexus you seek. What gods responsible for such have long since moved on to other worlds. All we can do is care for and treasure that has been given to us.”
Barum eyed him quizzically. Anthemos held up his hands.
“Who knows the will of the gods? I myself have never spoken with one.”
Fair enough, Barum thought. He decided to change the subject. “How long have you been alive? I’ve never met an Elf before.”
“A good question. I can recall the war for power, over one thousand years ago. I saw the mountains grow from the earth. Generations have come and gone. My own kin are but dust in the ground. To answer the question, I am old, very, very old.”
“I don’t understand. What power can keep you alive for so long?”
Anthemos placed a fragile hand on his shoulder. “Some questions should not be asked. There are answers we don’t want to know.”
Down they went, until at last they stood at the entrance of a vast hall. A small path no more than a meter wide carved through the crystalline waters filling the hall. Light reflected from gems made the hall appear much larger than it was. They stared in awe, never having dreamed of such a sight. Here, hundreds of feet beneath the surface, was the most wondrous sight they’d ever beheld. As the awe slowly faded, the knights began to notice the rest of the hall.
The Oracle of Wenx sat at the center of a small isle in the middle of the hall. It was neither man nor any of the other races, but an ancient creature of forgotten magic. The oracle was a Wisp. Half as large as a grown man, the Wisp was a near translucent orb of pure energy. The center was violent red and orange. Sparks of electricity emanated from the surface, transforming the opaque body to shades of grey and purple. Raw power pulsed across the waters.
“What is it?” Pirneon asked.
Anthemos slipped to the front. “This is the Oracle of Wenx. It is the last of its kind, a creature born of pure magic at the dawn of the world. It is a Wisp.”
“How can such a creature communicate with us? I see no eyes or mouth.”
“The chosen has been selected,” Anthemos announced. He faced Aphere. “Only one of you shall hear the oracle’s predictions. Only one.”
“It should be me,” Pirneon pressed.
Aphere blushed. She felt his resentment pulsing towards her in dark waves. It made her sick, causing her to cringe inwardly. At the same time, his attitude enraged her. She was every bit the knight he was and the only reason he was still alive. His behavior was childish, unbecoming of a man in his position. Now was not the time to confront his foolishness, however.
“‘Should’ means nothing to the oracle. I would be cautious if I were you, Knight Marshal. You still have far to go on your journey. You have great need of the oracle’s counsel if you are going to find success along your way.”
Anthemos closed his thin lips and said no more. He idly fretted over having said too much already. He knew this wasn’t his concern, nor could he have any part in it. Let them do as they will, he told himself. It was the only way.
“Go, child,” Anthemos urged her. “The oracle has been waiting for your arrival for so long. Go to him, and learn what role you play in the fate of Malweir.”
Aphere hesitated. She wasn’t certain of anything. Kistan’s teachings did little to ease her doubts or self-consciousness. Anthemos sensed this and went to her side. His stolid features loosened enough to show the depths of his sincerity.
“It’s all right. He won’t harm you. You know this to be true,” he whispered for her ears only. “This is your destiny, Aphere. Follow your heart.”
She did. Step by step, Aphere eased down the path to the waiting oracle. Her heart quickened the way it did before a battle. Her knees felt weak. Questions rumbled through her mind, threatening to break her resolve. What am I doing? How can any of this be possible? I can’t do this. I’m not worthy. Sudden calm washed over her. Any doubts were crushed by the waves. She found focus and renewed purpose.
Her steps became strong, confident. Aphere marched down the path with utter surety. There was a sense of giddiness the closer she got to the Wisp. Giddiness she hadn’t felt since childhood. The oracle whispered to her in a gilded warble. The voice had a touch of song that delighted her heart. The world lost all bitterness as futures and past were revealed for truth. At last, she understood what being a Gaimosian Knight was all about. She was Malweir. Aphere reached a loving hand out towards the Wisp.
“No! Do not touch him!” Anthemos shouted.
The scene exploded. Waves of pure energy rippled out from the two. Aphere collapsed in a heap of useless flesh. The Wisp disappeared into the vast nothingness from whence it had come. Kavan and Barum recovered first and ran towards her for the second time today. Only Pirneon stood fast and watched with narrowed eyes.
“We were afraid we lost you,” Anthemos told her after she regain consciousness.
“Where am I?” she asked.
The Elf sage smiled down on her with fatherly love. “You are safe. We moved you into my cottage after your contact with the oracle.” His eyes grew stern. “That was a very foolish thing you did. The oracle is a thing of pure power. You might well have disintegrated. As it stands, the oracle is gone.”
“Where did it go?” Kavan asked from the high backed chair in the corner of the room. His eyes were filled with genuine concern.
“Go? The Wisp was pure energy, and her touch set it in motion. It has gone off to be with the rest of its kin. There is a place, rumored of course, where the source of all power lies. Good and evil reside within in a collection of listless souls. Its task was accomplished, so the oracle returned home.”
Horror registered across her face. “I killed the oracle?”
Anthemos shook his head. “Don’t be absurd. Nothing on this plane can harm a Wisp. You did release it. There will be a time when the Wisp will return to await another band of seekers, but that is a story for the future. Do you remember what the oracle told you?”
She thought for a moment. Visions and images swarmed back. She saw things she never dreamed possible and nightmares so foul they ruined the very soul. Monsters and unmentionable creatures crawled out of the darkness to assault the free peoples of Malweir. Only a select handful barred the way. Most of what she saw made no sense. They was a jumble of separate thoughts without reason. Aphere relayed all she remembered. Finished, she lay back down.
“Unfortunately, I am forbidden from explaining what you were privileged to. But this I will say, you are all now part of a vicious cycle. Evil is coming, and unless you heed the visions, Malweir shall be plunged into one thousand years of darkness. Let me tell you a tale, one as old as time itself.”
He paused to ensure all were listening, especially the suddenly taciturn Pirneon. “Ten thousand years ago, our nightmares took shape and savagely tried to take over by enslaving the world. A great and terrible war ensued. Tens of thousands died without knowing why. Finally, after many long years, the evil was beaten back and banished from our world. The night was once again safe. To ensure this evil could not easily return, a group of sorcerers channeled their power and created three nexus.
“It was there and only there this evil might manifest itself again. For as strong as the combined will of the sorcerers was, they failed in defeating evil once and for all. The dark gods were allowed to linger in their alternate dimension. Exiled, they continued to rebuild their power until one thousand years passed. On the day when the moon swallowed the sun, they broke free from their prison and resumed their war on the world.”
Anthemos paused to drink from a clay mug. “The dark gods were eventually defeated but not destroyed. After all, how can one simply slay a god? So was born the vicious cycle that has plagued us ever since. Most of the peoples of Malweir are totally ignorant of the fact. Some are unwitting pawns in this cosmic struggle. Others choose to make their stand, be it for good or evil. That time is once again upon us.”
“When?” Aphere asked. Her voice was but a whisper.
“The moon will eat the sun thirty days from today, and the nexus will reopen. The cycle will be renewed unless you follow the wisdom of the oracle,” he said with sad authority. “Time is almost nigh.”
Dread bordering on panic settled in. His words carried ill portent laced with dire consequences. Surely, the chances of surviving such a cataclysmic event were close to none.
“I will say no more on this.” He paused to look each of them in the eye, as if testing the strength of their inner resolve. “Should you fail, should you decide not to undertake this quest, Malweir will be plunged into irreversible decay. The world as we know it will wither and die.”
“Not to place any added pressure on us,” Kavan muttered.
Anthemos smiled sadly. “None of us are so fortunate as to pick our destiny.”
The knight stood and drew his sword. “Men, I can fight. Beasts and monsters will bleed just like you and I. But a god? How can I fight something infinitely powerful? There are limitations to strength.”
Placing his hand on Kavan’s chest, Anthemos said, “It is not through strength of arms but the depth of your heart that you shall succeed.”
Even Pirneon straightened. Old Gaimosian pride resurfaced. His sense of honor replaced the burrowing resentment all but consuming him. He took courage from the Elf.
“You may spend the rest of the night here and depart on the morrow. This quest will take you beyond the edge of dawn. Rest now. You will have need of great strength in the coming days. Good night.”
Anthemos said no more. His frail body seemed to shrink within his robes as he stepped out of the room. Rest as they would, the Elf sage still had much to do. The guardians of the forest would be restless by now. With the Wisp gone for the time being, it was up to Anthemos to use his magic to control them — a daunting task, to be sure, for Anthemos felt his lifeline slowly creeping away. He paused to glance back at his home. The fate of the world rested within. Not the worst he’d ever seen, but far from the best. He smiled, praying faith would be enough, and wandered off into the forest whistling an old song his mother had taught him.
TWENTY-FIVE
The Journey North
They emerged from the northern edge of Hresh Werd at midday. Kavan, as usual, pushed forward to scout ahead. He was glad to be rid of the confinement of the forest. Aradain was still far away, and there were a thousand places along their route of march to meet trouble or delay. Pirneon had kept them awake the night before with a dire warning. If the Wisp had known of their role in the defense of Malweir, it stood to reason those alig
ned with the forces of darkness were as well.
Ergos stretched for as far as the eye could see. The fertile grasslands comprised the majority of the largest western kingdom, going from the Kergland Spine in the east to the shore of the western ocean and north to the edge of a foul swamp so ancient most had forgotten its true name.
“The journey will be long and potentially dangerous the closer we get to Aradain,” Pirneon told them before leaving the temple of Wenx. “Once across the plains, we must decide to go through or around the swamp. After that lies the kingdom of your people, Geblin. Outsiders have seldom been admitted within their borders. Thankfully, we have our small companion here to help.”
Geblin blanched. Going home had never been an option.
“Past that are the broken mountains of the Crags. They are sharp and cruel. Our goal lies just beyond. Rantis is but a day’s ride north from there.”
“Is there no better route?” Aphere asked.
“Surely, but the time it would take puts us well beyond the eclipse Anthemos warned of,” he said.
So they rode north. The trip out of the forest was uneventful. It was evident that the Elf had gone ahead to clear their path. Anthemos waited at the edge of the forest, watching until they were well out of sight. The fate of the world was no longer in his hands.
By dusk, the knights were tired of riding. Pirneon relented only after Kavan returned to the main group with his scouting report.
“There is a stream not far ahead. Few animal tracks. We should be able to rest in the stand of birch trees close by,” he said. Sweat plastered his windblown hair to the sides of his face.
Pirneon nodded his agreement. “Lead us there. We’ll rest for six hours and continue until dawn.”
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