Mestel had a minor sword cut across his shoulder and a deep cut in his thigh that went all the way to the bone. In spite of his injuries, Mestel could not help but smile. For the first time in what seemed like years, he took a good look around without fear of what would happen next. No one was following them. No one was spying on them, and no one was trying to kill them.
This was not to say that he and Evisar didn’t have problems. Their father was still dead along with the King of Armena. Devin was still missing somewhere in the Underworld. They were exiled from Armena, with no foreseeable way to return to their homeland. Kentar had declared war on Armena and sent an army out to facilitate its destruction. The King of Kentar had been assassinated after agreeing to pursue peaceful relations with the elves. The fist-sized diamond containing the High Wizard of the Sorcerers was now in Talon Guild custody.
Still, Mestel felt a hope he hadn’t felt since before he left Armena. Thinking about what they had been through filled him with pride. They had faced a lich servant of Seker, beaten a vampire, saved the High Priest of Fortuna, and out-thought a genie from another realm. They had rescued Ellen’s daughter from a Krone agent. He and Austen had stopped an assassination attempt on the King of Kentar.
Everyone came together to see what Evisar or Austen would say. Evisar took command of the situation and said, “Austen, do you know where we are?”
Austen nodded and said, “My spell was supposed to teleport us outside the Kentarian city of Locus.” The old wizard pointed to the west. “If I am not mistaken, you can see the city off in the distance. I believe we are looking at the Dragon’s Gate, on the eastern side of the city.”
Evisar said, “Well done, Austen. We seemed to have worn out our welcome in Jewlian. It looks like we are free from danger for the next couple of days. Why don’t we make camp here for the night? We can get a good night’s rest and decide what to do in the morning.” Most of the companions nodded their heads in agreement. Those who did not nod simply remained silent, too exhausted to respond. “Xander, why don’t you heal everyone as best you can, starting with the most injured first. Nero, why don’t you set the first watch to make sure we aren’t caught unawares. Valihorn, can you get a fire started for us?” Then Evisar remained silent for a moment. Mestel could tell from his body language that he wanted to address his brother but was not sure how to do it. The distance between them had become a chasm. Without even looking in Mestel’s direction, he slowly said, “Mestel, I would be grateful if you would use your ranger skills to find any food that is about.”
There was a time not long ago, when the prospect of feeding all six of them would have been nearly impossible for Mestel, but that was a different time and he was a different person.
“I’ll see what I can find.”
Everyone was exhausted from their trials over the last few days. The companions carried out their assigned tasks and then sat silently around the campfire. Everyone talked about their experiences, but no one talked about the future. In some sense they had all survived a great ordeal. It was a time to celebrate – not with dance, women, and ale – but with a fellowship that grew through sharing life and death experiences together. They talked and laughed until the fire died down and they could no longer keep their eyes open. It was a night of careless irresponsibility. The first they had had in a long time. One by one, each of the companions laid down on his bedroll and went to sleep.
All except Mestel. He stayed awake, staring into the fire, pondering the finality of a difficult decision.
*****
Eventually he must have fallen asleep, for he awoke to find himself standing in the greenest of fields with the bluest of skies overhead. Standing directly in front of him was Martel. His god’s gold eyes sparkled with a life born of divinity. Mestel immediately went down on one knee and looked at the ground. He was not worthy to behold his god’s magnificence.
Martel said, “Loneliness and despair abound …”
Mestel reflexively responded. “Trust in the flight of the falcon and be saved.”
“Whom do you serve?”
“I serve the Faithful Falcon. I find those who are lost and strike down those who abuse their authority. I protect those who cannot protect themselves. I free those who are wrongfully imprisoned.”
“I am proud of you, Mestel. You have served me well on Tellus as my chosen instrument. You have freed those who were wrongly imprisoned. You have brought down those who abuse their power, and you have brought new worshipers to my cause.”
Mestel looked down at his feet, unable to look his god in the eyes. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Things are coming to a head between Armena, Kentar, the Krone, and the Talon Thieves Guild. There are many gods in play, making it difficult to see the future with any clarity. The next few moons will determine the future of all elvenkind for millennia to come, possibly forever. Something critical has happened to Armena while you have been away. As my chosen, you and your companions need to know that the Talon Thieves Guild has executed the First Heir of Armena.”
Mestel looked up at his god in shock. “What?!”
“The Talon Thieves Guild, in league with the Krone, killed Devin and tried to use his blood to wipe out all of Armena. The First Heir is dead, but the Talon Guild was only partly successful in destroying Armena. Throughout the Kingdom of Armena, one in three citizens is dead, and to make matters worse, those that were killed were the strongest and wisest of all elf kind.”
Mestel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Then we have failed. All of our work on Tellus and in the heavens has come to nothing. Evona has won. Armena cannot possibly withstand the might of Kentar, the Talon Guild, and the Krone.”
Martel responded quickly and forcefully. “Bite your tongue! I will not have a chosen of mine speak with such despair. Evona will never win as long as I draw breath! Do you hear me?” Mestel looked down at the ground. His god waited a moment before continuing. “There is no doubt this is our most desperate hour. Not since Evona separated from Invictus so many eons ago has the question of the elves’ continued existence been in such disarray. But there is a chance. One single chance! Everything depends on you and me. We will have to be strong if we are to prevail. With so many gods in play, we will have to trust that events will unfold as they should. You will continue to be my right hand, my chosen on Tellus, and I will continue to give you my divine power. Together, our faith will guide us to victory.”
Mestel spoke with a conviction that filled his spirit. “I will serve you faithfully, my lord. What is this single chance of which you speak?”
“You must go to Locus and cut the head off the snake. The Talon Thieves Guild must be destroyed. The Guildmaster has created layers of chaos surrounding Armena in order to establish the first thieves’ guild kingdom in all of history. The Guildmaster is yoking the strength of the Krone and pitting Armena and Kentar against one another. The gods are flaunting their powers in heaven and on Tellus in ways unseen since the Year of Angels. Our people will continue to suffer until they are destroyed by the Humans of Kentar and the Krone of the Underworld. Through it all is the conniving genius of the Talon Thieves Guildmaster. Only you can turn the tide. Only you can save Armena, and through you, Tellus. Cut the head off the snake, and the body will die. Kill the Guildmaster, and the Guild will fragment into leaderless pieces.”
Mestel did not know how he would defeat a human who wielded nearly godlike power and a pantheon-like number of followers – he only knew that he would succeed. “It will be done as you command, my lord. I will kill the Guildmaster and save Armena, or die trying.”
“Well said, my chosen. I will be by your side to guide you in this endeavor.” Then Martel turned around and walked briskly away. After a few steps, he transformed into a golden falcon and flew away.
*****
Mestel snapped his head up and stared into the darkness. Martel was gone, if indeed he had ever actually been there in the first place. He looked around the campsite and focused
on each of his friends in turn. They were all asleep. The fire had long since burned out. The sun had not yet peeked over the horizon, but Mestel could see the grays and blues off in the distance that came with dawn. Mestel knew he would never fall asleep again, so he gathered what he needed to make another fire. There were still a few embers from the night before that caught the oil cloth starter on fire. From there, he added small pieces of tinder and slowly added larger pieces of fuel until the fire was a going concern. Then he went on the hunt to see what small game and edible plants he could find. He found a grove of trees that provided enough shade for mushrooms to grow. Most folk could not tell an edible mushroom from a poisonous one, but for a veteran ranger it was no great task. When the mushrooms had been picked over, he moved on to a walnut tree on the edge of a grove.
He reached up to pick off a nut when he saw a falcon streaking across the sky. The falcon was hunting alone as they always did. The flight of the falcon reminded him of the difficult decision he had to make. In the end, there was only one choice. It was time for him to reach for his destiny, much as he was reaching for the walnut. The falcon moved across the sky and dove toward the ground. It flew back into the air with something dark in its talons. In the early morning light, Mestel could not make out what it was. The falcon flew directly overhead and suddenly dropped its prey not more than five feet directly in front of Mestel. Mestel walked curiously forward and found the falcon had been carrying a snake – a five-foot snake with a broken neck. The falcon must have broken the snake’s neck when it snatched it from the ground. Falcons normally don’t lose their prey – so to drop the snake at all, let alone five feet in front of him, was either an act of the gods or incredible luck. Mestel knew it was the former, which only confirmed that he had made the right decision. He picked up the snake and made his way back to camp.
Everyone was beginning to rise as he returned, and the sun had made its inevitable climb above the horizon. Mestel set the mushrooms in a pot of boiling water and placed the walnuts in an iron skillet on the edge of the fire. He skinned the snake, cut off its head, and placed it on a stick to roast.
Everyone packed up their gear and sat around the campfire eating breakfast. Xander and Nero joked about how beautiful and flirtatious the servant girls had been the night before. It was difficult for Mestel to think back on that night for so many reasons, not the least of which was the fate of Nero’s soul. Mestel hoped he would come around soon. Austen and Valihorn were talking about their confrontation in front of the Sorcerers. Evisar and Mestel sat silently next to each other. So much went unspoken between the brothers. Mestel suspected his brother knew what had to happen here, but that didn’t make it any easier.
Mestel was the first to speak about serious matters. “Last night, after everyone went to sleep, Martel came into our camp and spoke directly with me. Normally I don’t talk about the wisdom my god imparts to me, but this time was different. This time, my god bade me to tell you that the First Heir of Armena has been executed by the Krone and the Talon Thieves Guild.”
All around the fire was a resounding “What?”
“It’s true. Devin was killed not long ago, and his blood was used to kill one in three elves inside Glenmyr Forest.” Finished with what he had to say, Mestel threw another stick onto the fire and looked into the flames for an absolution that would never come.
Valihorn said, “Then we have failed?”
“Yes, we have failed.”
No one said anything for a long time. Eventually Evisar spoke quietly into the fire. “A new day has dawned for us and for our people, and we must each decide what to do next.” Everyone grew quiet and leaned in, straining to hear what their leader had to say. “I suspect each of us has come a long way from the person we were only a few moons ago. I know for certain that I have. We have seen much death and destruction. We have tried our best to fight for our people, but so far, we have failed. We did our best to find Devin and return him to the throne of Armena, both for our people and for us. My brother and I hoped to return Devin to the throne in order to return to our country as welcome heroes. Now we are permanent exiles. Permanent in the sense that the First Heir is dead, and there is no way to resolve that.
“But this is not the end for me. The question is: what to do next? Where do I go? Where do my loyalties lie?” Evisar let his statement hang in the air for a long time. “It has been a privilege to lead this group of companions, but my loyalties lie with my King and country. I must do what I can to safeguard my people. I will return to Armena, but I cannot ask any of you to follow where I am going.”
Mestel nodded his head in understanding. Valihorn said, “But King Jalid said he would kill you if you ever returned from exile.”
“What you say is true, but I cannot ignore what my heart is telling me. Armena is at war with Kentar. Hundreds or thousands of our countrymen are going to die, if they haven’t already. If Armena is to survive, something must be done. My family has served the king loyally, leading the forces of Armena for four generations, and I will not let the blood run thin now.” Evisar drew his family sword out of its scabbard and held it across his lap. “Neverlost is more than a sword; it is a state of mind. This sword belongs to my family, and my family belongs at the head of Armena’s army. If the King wants me dead, he has but to ask, but I will no longer play the part of the coward. I was afraid of my father’s legacy for a long time, but no longer. I will never be lost again, and I am returning home where I belong.” With his piece said, Evisar looked at Mestel for a moment and sat back, waiting for the next person to speak.
Mestel was about to speak, when Austen beat him to it. “I can teleport you and anyone who wants to go with you, as far as the logging town of Endwood. From there you will have to find your own way into Glenmyr Forest.” Evisar nodded his head in appreciation. Austen continued, “It has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life to lend aid to this group. I may have tricked you into helping save my hometown, but my affection for all of you has gone far beyond that one act. Even if you failed to save your First Heir, you have still been a mighty force for good in this region. You stopped the giants that were attacking Wessex. You destroyed the Shetley Fortress, a place where evil had reigned for more than a century. You fought a vampire and won, saving the High Priest of a valued religion.” Xander nodded his head at the truth of the statement. “Some would blame you for calling out my name in front of the Sorcerers and nearly having me killed, but I am not that someone. I am Austen the Wizard. The magical weave has a purpose for everyone and everything. It was my destiny to be called out and brought before the Sorcerers, so I could finally face the betrayal of my friend. It was a meeting twenty years in the making that I had been afraid to face, but you have reconciled that fear, and I am all the stronger for it. Destiny brought me to Jewlian after twenty years, but it was the divine intervention of Martel that allowed Mestel and me to escape the Sorcerer prison.” Austen showed his forearm for all to see. When the rays of the morning sun hit the imprint of Mestel’s platinum medallion, the falcon in flight began to glow brighter with its own inner light. “It was Martel’s wisdom that allowed Mestel and me to save the King of Kentar from the Sorcerers’ assassination attempt. Even now I find it difficult to believe such deep corruption has infested the Sorcerers. For more than a thousand years they have served the Crown of Kentar freely and courageously. For more than a thousand years they have been the guardians that kept Kentar true and strong. Now that part of history has been obliterated. The Sorcerers have betrayed the Crown. I do not know if the damage can ever be undone or even partially repaired, but I know I must try. I will not be traveling with you to Armena. I am not an elf. I am a human of Kentar and my place is here. I will walk back to Jewlian and re-enter the Sorcerers Academy.”
Valihorn said, “Master, you cannot. They will kill you on sight.”
“I do not think so. Rafa imprisoned me before using the power of the High Wizard’s office, and now Rafa is dead. Without his drive and his hatred,
the other Sorcerers will not be so quick to judge me. Particularly since it was Rafa who condemned me and then tried to assassinate his King. But have no fear. I will not simply walk into the Administration Building and announce my presence. I will begin with the few friends I still have at the Academy. I will tell them my story and they will believe the truth of it. Once they are convinced, they will convince the others.” Austen ended his story there. He closed his mouth and relaxed his shoulders.
Silence reigned as everyone took in Austen’s words. Mestel understood and approved of Austen’s choice. He believed in Martel’s mission to bring down those points of authority who abuse their power and free those that have been wrongfully imprisoned. The Sorcerers Academy had obviously strayed from their mission, and the wizards were clearly abusing their gifts and their authority over the lesser beings around them. Austen would do well to bring Martel’s message to the Academy.
Nero leaned forward from his sitting position and spoke loudly for all to hear. “I, too, will be returning to Armena. My first order of business will be to verify Mestel’s vision that the First Heir has been murdered. If what Mestel says is true, then my assignment to aid you in recovering the Prince of Armena is not only over, but it has failed. The leaders of my organization do not accept failure lightly. I may be forced out of service as an Agent of the Crown, but at the very least I will be given a new assignment. If Evisar survives his return to Armena, then I may serve with him again. If he does not, well, then it has been a distinct honor to work and travel with you. Only time will tell. So, Evisar, I will travel with you back to Armena, but then you and I will go our separate ways.”
It was difficult for Mestel to listen to Nero, particularly when his brother might be in danger. It was obvious to him that the Agent of the Crown was holding much back, but Mestel continued to heed his god’s advice and leave Nero to his own devices.
Do the Gods Give Us Hope? Page 51
