He could never forget that his true allegiance lay with Venal, the demi-god of the elven pantheon dedicated to the compete destruction of the Krone. Death to the Krone; only then may the joy of life begin anew. Nero truly loved his god’s words, not because they came from his god and were divine in nature, but rather because they were a guiding light for his followers and so full of purpose. Everything he did, he did to support his god’s calling. There was no higher purpose in life. Although, the longer he traveled with the companions, the more doubts he had about betraying Armena. He was essentially deceiving his kin again and again to gain power in the Talon Guild, so that he could use that power to destroy the Krone. But at what cost? The companions were fighting honestly for what they believed in, and they were slowly making a difference. He envied them their conviction and certitude for what they knew to be right.
Venal had appeared before him and set him on his present course, but his god had not communicated with him since that fateful night. Did that mean he was still on the right path? It could mean he was on the right path and Venal didn’t need to point him in a new direction. It could mean he was entirely on the wrong path, and Venal was so furious with him that he no longer found him worthy. In Nero’s heart he knew he was on the right path. He was one of the smartest beings on Tellus, and Venal would not lead him astray.
As a rededication to his plan to gain power in the Guild, Nero decided then and there that it was time to involve Xander in the next stage of his plan. Late that night, Nero snuck silently out of his room and down the spiral staircase until he came to Xander’s door.
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Valihorn coughed himself awake and felt his lungs burning. He had experienced this sensation twice before and knew immediately where he was. He moved his hands along the ground and was not at all surprised to find them running over cool, metallic coins. He opened his eyes to total darkness and sat up.
The instinctive fear Valihorn always felt in the presence of the dragon, Malachite, was present, but each time he met with the dragon he was able to control the fear a little better and channel it into a steady focus. He picked up one of the gold coins and cast a light spell on it. Just then he heard someone else coughing behind him and wondered who it was. Valihorn turned around in time to see Evisar come fully awake and jump to his feet. The elf warrior instinctively reached for his sword, which was not there.
“Valihorn, where are we?” Evisar kept turning in circles, obviously overpowered by the dragon fear that surrounded the entire cavern.
“We are in Malachite’s lair.”
Evisar turned around in one more complete circle before he seemed to regain control of himself. “The dragon Malachite? How in the name of …” Evisar never got to finish his curse as he doubled over in pain and coughed loudly.
Valihorn moved over to his friend and leader and said, “Stay still and I will help you with your coughing.” Evisar continued to cough but otherwise did as Valihorn instructed. Valihorn cast a protection from the elements spell and instantly felt his lungs clear. Evisar must have felt the same because he stopped coughing and stood up straight, once again in complete control of his body.
Evisar said, “Why did the dragon bring us here? What does he want?”
Valihorn said, “I assume Malachite transported us here to call in our debts.” Valihorn raised both hands in the air and yelled out a single arcane word over and over again. The word echoed inside the great cavern over and over. Every time he said the word, light burst forth from one of his hands and shot across the cavern until it hit the ceiling or a wall, where the light stayed and glowed brightly in the darkness. Valihorn moved his hand around the room until light shone in all directions.
A deep voice boomed through the cavern. “Your powers have increased, half-elf!”
Valihorn turned around in the direction of the voice and was shocked to see Malachite’s enormous head directly in front of them. The dragon’s head was several times their size. Once Valihorn regained control of his senses, his eyes followed the dragon’s head back to his neck and followed the long neck over to the dragon’s gargantuan body.
“I foresee a time in the near future when your powers will surpass those of your Master.”
Valihorn reverently faced the dragon, went down on one knee, and bent his head low. “Mighty Malachite. I am humbled to be in your presence once again.” Valihorn spoke the next words in the language of dragons. “To what do we owe the honor of viewing your magnificence?”
Malachite nodded slightly in appreciation of Valihorn’s use of the one, true language, and withdrew his head over to where his massive body lay. He continued to speak in the common tongue.
“I have called you here to offer my services. It seems that you and your companions have once again become imprisoned. I will gladly take you out of your captivity if you and the rest of your group promise to answer my call at some time in the future.”
Evisar stepped forward, clearly unafraid. “You mean you will help us if we both agree to be in your debt?”
“You are both already in my debt. Your debt will increase if you accept my help. And you will also be vouching for your friends, much as Valihorn vouched for you, since accepting my help will bring them into my service.”
Evisar said, “What do you mean, we are both already in your debt? I have never sworn a debt to you in my life.”
Malachite lifted his wings and thrashed them once in anger. “You knew you were entering into my service when I attacked the Old Shetley Fortress and allowed you to escape.”
Valihorn stayed reverently on one knee and watched as Evisar dug his hole wider and deeper. “We managed to escape without your attack on the fortress, so I say we owe you nothing.”
Malachite turned his head and breathed acid against the side wall. “Do not test me, elf! By the code, you will honor your debt, or I will destroy those you hold most dear. I will strike down your brother and burn Armena to cinders.”
Evisar stood still for a long while before answering. When he spoke it was soft, with a note of defeat. “As you wish.”
Malachite’s voice became conversational once again. Even so, his voice thundered off the walls of the lair. “Do you wish to accept my offer to free you and your companions, or shall I return you to your tower prison?”
Valihorn looked up at Evisar, expecting the large warrior to answer, but instead found Evisar looking distraughtly at the ground. Evisar shook his head and Valihorn took this as a no to the dragon’s question.
Valihorn spoke in the dragon’s tongue. “Mighty Malachite. We cannot thank you enough for your generous offer and your continued interest in our wellbeing. We do not believe our current predicament warrants the help of your magnificence.”
Malachite opened his mouth and chuckled. “Pitiful half-elf, with each passing day you remind me more and more of your Master. Did you know that Austen once came into my service?”
Valihorn cocked his head to the side, not sure what to believe. “No, I did not know.”
“Of course not. Both the master and the apprentice have the same ignorance. The same weakness. The truth is that I once saved Austen’s life. His life and the life of his best friend, Rafa. I see that you are surprised by that. Do you begin to grasp your ignorance? You never really know anyone in this world. Yes, I saved them both, and they both entered into my service, promising to do whatever was asked of them.
“Years later, I gave them such a simple task. Much easier than the task you have already accomplished.”
Valihorn said, “And what happened?”
“Rafa did as he was asked and Austen refused. Oh, I could have killed him for breaking the code, but revenge is so much sweeter when it is aged. I allowed Austen to live, but I made sure he was blamed for a crime humans abhor and forced into exile. You have seen firsthand how Rafa was rewarded for his loyalty. He is in command of the Sorcerers, while Austen has wasted away in the service of Lord Shetley.”
Valihorn
knew that Austen considered his life a useful one and was not ashamed of what he had accomplished for the people of Wessex. What the dragon said was true to a certain extent, but it depended largely on one’s point of view.
Malachite continued, “I always knew I would get my revenge, and when your pitiful band of heroes showed up in my territory, I knew my chance had arrived. I already told you, half-elf, that I asked you to retrieve the ring so the Old Shetley Fortress would be destroyed. But that is not the whole story. To be truly wise you must be able to think long-term.”
The dragon chuckled in triumph. “The reason I did not strike the ring from your hand was because I knew you would reveal Austen’s location to the Sorcerers – and that they would put him to death. The only place you could go to remove the ring was the Sorcerers Academy. Once in front of the Administrators, I knew Austen’s name would come up. You are so open and honest, half-elf. It will be your undoing.”
Valihorn staggered backward as the magnitude of the truth hit him. It was his fault. It was all his fault. He had mentioned Austen’s name when there had been no need. Anything that happened to his Master would be on his conscience.
Malachite chuckled under his breath and continued, “You see now the joy that comes with proper patience. It is a joy that you mortals will never know, for your lifetimes are too short to learn the lesson properly. But time is short, and you have provided enough amusement for one day. Let me tell the two of you the task that I want you to accomplish for me in payment of your debt.”
_______________________________________
Nero knocked on Xander’s door and waited for an answer that never came. He tried the doorknob and found it locked. He pulled out one of his hidden tools, took the next few moments to pick the lock, and opened the door wide enough to squeeze through. Nero searched for traps as he closed the door and found none. Nero shook his head – Xander was getting soft as he turned more and more toward Fortuna. A mistake Nero knew he would never make.
He moved quietly over to Xander’s bed and lit the oil lamp on the end table. Xander still did not wake, so he gently nudged him on the shoulder and stood back. Xander reacted in an instant by drawing a dagger from under his pillow and lunging upward with a slash.
Nero was well out of the way of the knife, but he still had to pad his mark’s ego. “Woe there, Xander. Don’t hurt me.”
Exhaustion, curiosity, fear, and bewilderment crossed Xander’s face. “What, what do you want?”
“I’m here to talk about a wonderful opportunity for you.”
Xander put away his dagger and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “What do you mean? Why do we have to talk about it in the middle of the night?”
“Because what I want to talk to you about is so secret that it can only be whispered in the middle of the night.” Nero moved in close and spoke with care. “My superiors want you to join the Philosophers.”
“What are you talking about? I thought you were an Agent of the Armenien Crown?”
Oh, the naivete. Nero continued to speak in whispered tones. “No, that is just my cover. I am actually a member of a secret elf organization known as the Philosophers.”
“And what are the Philosophers?”
“They are the true force that guards Armena against all outside threats,” Nero said.
“What do these Philosophers do that the King of Armena, with the Army at his back, can’t do?”
“Think about what you are saying, Xander. When was the last time the army was truly tested? When was the last time the Border Rangers did anything other than turn away small bands of orcs and humans from our territory? How do you think the King stays so well-informed about matters that occur outside Armena? It is the Philosophers and their leaders, the Council of Wizards, that keep Armena strong. What I am telling you is only known to a select few. Even the high nobles at court don’t know the truth. The army is powerful, and the King has many servants, but they cannot defend Armena against all the enemies that want to destroy it. Elves are too noble to do what must be done. Our society cannot stomach the fact that spying might be a necessary evil. It would be impossible for our people to consider assassinating an enemy general or king in order to prevent a war. It would be unthinkable for elves to secretly burn an enemy logging town to the ground in order to protect the forest.
“Yet these things, and many others, must be done. We need to know what is happening outside our borders so that we can defend what is ours. Armena would not exist today if the Philosophers had never been founded. You know elf history. After the reign of the dragons, Tellus used to be littered with elven kingdoms. Now they are all gone except for Armena. Why do you suppose that is?”
Xander shook his head, guessing at an answer. “Because of the Retreat. Armena has been completely isolated for the last three hundred years because most of our brethren left Tellus.”
Nero shook his head, knowing the truth. “The Old Elf Empire was the greatest elf kingdom of them all, and there is no denying that the Retreat helped isolate us, but it was a temporary solution. We gave up huge amounts of land and sacrificed many trees when our brothers left Tellus. And now our time of peace is at an end. Armena is being threatened from the outside like never before. The forests are filled with evil creatures. Kentar, Sena, and the Krone are testing our borders like never before. Make no mistake about it. If the Philosophers do not remain strong, then Armena will not exist a hundred years from now.”
Nero stopped what he was saying as the gravity of his words hit him like a thrown stone. He was trying to convince Xander to join the Philosophers so he could destroy them from within, but maybe he was the one who needed convincing. Was destroying the Philosophers in order to gain favor with the Talon Guild and wipe out the Krone really a sensible course of action?
Xander took advantage of the pause to ask, “So why do your superiors want me to join the Philosophers? I haven’t spent much time in Armena, and I am only a half-elf.”
“My superiors were interested in you even before I joined your group. One of my assignments was to watch and see if you were worthy of joining our organization. Your abilities have impressed me enough to warrant entry into the Philosophers – particularly after your escape from the highest security Talon Guild prison, with a high-level priestess of Fortuna no less. I know you haven’t spent a lot of time in Armena, but you are an ideal candidate despite being half-human, and your kin need you now more than ever.”
Xander smiled at the compliment. “So, if I were interested, what exactly do you want of me?”
“For now, I would like to contact my superiors and tell them I have found you worthy of becoming a Philosopher and that you have agreed. My superiors will then arrange for you to be indoctrinated into the organization and marked with the Philosopher symbol.”
“What? What do you mean I will be marked with a symbol?”
Nero said, “It’s just a security precaution, so we can identify each other. I’m going to take the lamp and show you.” He picked up the lamp and pulled back his neckline so that Xander could see his collar bone. “Right now you can’t see anything, but if I put the heat close enough to my skin …” Nero held the lamp right next to his collarbone so his skin could absorb the heat. He held it there for as long as he could stand the discomfort. He waited for Xander to gasp in surprise before he continued. “Every Philosopher is marked with an open book so that we can know for certain who is with us.”
Xander pulled back and was consumed by his own thoughts for a while. “I’m flattered by your offer and pleased that you think my skills are valuable, but what if I don’t want to join the Philosophers? You see, when this is all over I had hoped to return to the Basilica of Fortuna in Locus in order to live a priestly life.”
Nero said, “This wouldn’t be because of some fine-looking priestess of Fortuna that was recently recovered from a Talon Guild prison, would it?”
Xander did not even flinch. “I will admit I find Fortica very attractive, but I have my own reasons for
becoming a priest of Fortuna and living out my days at the Basilica.”
Nero was surprised by Xander’s level of religious devotion and agitated at what it might mean for his well-laid plans. “Well, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that you can most certainly do all of that while being a Philosopher.” Here he stretched the truth a little. “The Philosophers would love to have a contact inside the Basilica. You would never have to betray your religion; you would just have to report what is happening inside the Basillica, and more importantly inside of Locus, and carry out the occasional mission given to you by your superiors.”
“That sounds good. And the bad news?”
Here Nero had to be firm. “The bad news is that the decision for you to join the Philosophers has already been made. By revealing myself to you I have let an outsider know the Philosophers exist. This is unacceptable. Therefore, at this point you will have to either join the Philosophers or I will have to kill you. And if I can’t kill you, then others will come until the job is finished.”
Xander looked as though he were dead already. “I see.”
“I know exactly how you feel. You don’t like having your choices taken away from you. Every Philosopher for the last thousand years has felt the same way at first, but think about what you are gaining. You have been found worthy to join an organization that has kept Armena safe for a thousand years. You get to be in the know. You get to live a life of significance with the veil of ignorance lifted from your eyes.”
Do the Gods Give Us Hope? Page 34
