It was to the tombs of Vulzdagg that Gefiny led her brother, and as they came to stand at its entrance they halted to look into the deepening shadows within. Neither of the nobles wished to venture within the tombs for respect of the sleep that their comrades took.
“Why have you brought me here?” Dril asked his sister in a sorrowful tone at the sight of the burial grounds of his people.
“I come here often, when in need of private thought,” Gefiny replied, taking in a relaxing breath. “I am reminded that I have not died because I have not yet lived. I have survived like so many others; not bothering to fulfill the purpose of which I exist. I do not know my purpose, other then that I must sit in the throne of the matron of Vulzdagg in the stead of our mother when she has gone. I do not want that power, Dril’ead.”
Dril breathed, knowing that to be Gefiny’s greatest challenge in her life. She could see herself as a warrior of Vulzdagg, but not as the matron of Vulzdagg. “What do you want?” he asked sincerely.
“I have been thinking a lot about what you said; about losing your chance with Neth’tek,” Gefiny replied. “Perhaps you didn’t teach him all you should have. Perhaps you’re right about yourself. But at least you tried, Dril’ead. You were a brother to him, and that is really all that matters. You may not have taught him when to fight, but you showed him how to fight, while I, on the other hand, was nothing to him. He only feared me.”
Dril shook his head. “He respected you, Gefiny.”
“I don’t want respect!” Gefiny shot back; closing her eyes for fear that she would weep. “I am tired of respect. What is respect, if not fear of another person? I do not want to be feared, but I do not want to be stepped upon. I want love, Dril’ead. It is a thing I long for, but never to be reached.”
Dril’ead laid his arm across her shoulders, a simple act of comfort. “I am so sorry, my sister. I wish the same as you.”
“You have it already,” said Gefiny. “We stand before a place where we have buried thousands, and those thousands died because they loved something so much that they threw down their very lives for it. These people love you, Dril’ead, and proudly followed you into battle no matter what the evil may have been. They loved you enough to die for you. Above all, Neth’tek loved you.”
“How do you know that?” Dril asked. “You cannot assume their love for me so great just because I was their captain. They would have followed you, had you lead them. Lead them, and you will see.”
“Look at your people, Dril’ead, and see for yourself what they believe.” Gefiny turned round, gesturing at the city set before them and the tombs – at the feet of the citadel.
Everything seemed normal to Dril’ead. Here and there the people walked among what ruin remained, cleaning the streets of shattered bricks and carrying the wounded away to safety. What he did not notice was the sparkle in each one of their eyes as they did as their lord instructed.
“Never before have I seen such love for another,” Gefiny remarked as she watched the city. “It seems as if the Urden’Dagg is not as great and powerful as so many have said, but rather is no more than a common Follower lord who is beloved by his people. They look to you now, Dril’ead. Dril’ead Vulzdagg will forever be their captain. I do no assume these things; I know them because I have watched them, and seen the way they look at you whenever you pass. Your mere presence heals them from their sorrows. You are a hope to them, and maybe that is because you have none for yourself.”
Again Dril shook his head despite his knowing Gefiny to be right about what she said. They did look to him as they had looked to the Urden’Dagg, he had seen it when visiting Nelastro and how he begged him to personally teach him all that he knew. They wanted to be just like him, but Dril wondered how he could possibly teach them when he didn’t even want to be like himself.
“I miss Neth’tek just as much as you, if not more for my mistakes,” said Gefiny, leaning her head against Dril’s shoulder. “Don’t you miss father too? I remember watching the two of you spar for your daily training, and only wanting to be apart of it with you, right by your side. You were so much alike, especially when training your students. Sometimes I thought that I was seeing a vision of the past whenever I saw you and Neth’tek together – sparring as you and father did.” She sighed, pausing with thought. “All I want is to have our family back together. I miss them all so much.”
“You still have me and mother,” Dril said, trying to comfort her.
“It seems as though Vaknorbond and Neth’tek died during that outbreak from the lesser realms,” Gefiny said. “None of us have been the same since. I do not see mother as the fierce leader who had once been known throughout the realm as a basilisk anymore. And, even more painful, I do not see the brother who had promised me his return from a battle against another branch. I am beginning to assume he is dead. It makes me sad to say so.”
“I am here, Gefiny,” Dril said, hugging her tightly. “I will always be here, though sometimes it is hard to keep my hope as well as my sanity. It is you that keeps me sane. Whenever I am in your presence I feel at last secure with myself – more security than even my blades can offer.” He chuckled softly to himself.
Gefiny looked up at Dril, her eyes sincere as she spoke the feeling of her heart. “Dril’ead, you have changed.”
“I know,” Dril said, his eyes turning back toward the passage into the tombs of his people. “But I am not the Urden’Dagg.”
“Good,” Gefiny said, resting back against him. “I was afraid you were.”
They both wept for the absence of their family, and of themselves. But as long as they had each other, their hope and sanity would live.
5
A Request for the Specter
“You are a fool, Nel’ead!” Alastra scorned her brother as he stepped through the anteroom doors into his own throne room. She stood before the two thrones, arms crossed over her chest as she regarded her brother with a scowl of distain.
Nel’ead only laughed in reply, shaking his head at the seeming irony of it all. “Lord Dril’ead Vulzdagg!” he shouted at the high ceiling of the chamber. “May your rule be short lived, dear Dril’ead Vulzdagg!”
Alastra looked at him curiously. “So he is the lord of Vulzdagg,” she mused. “Our victory may be easily won after all. However, you are not excused of your foolishness. You failed to see that their weaknesses be exploited.”
“But they were,” Nel’ead said with an evil smile. “Lord Dril’ead is quick to wrath, his temper is ever on the edge it seems, especially when mentioning the witch Maaha. There seems to be some connection between the two of them.”
“The Zurdagg witch was an enemy to any and all,” Alastra said flatly. “It does not surprise me that he was quick to flash an evil eye when the name arose. Anyone of that branch should feel the same flush of anger when recounting the day they were to restore the power of her authority in payment of their sin. Do you not remember the account our scouts gave of that day? Do you, Nel’ead, not remember the destruction the Faxtogar demon dealt upon the ranks of Vulzdagg? It had nearly stolen the soul of Dril’ead as Vaknorbond said himself.”
Nel’ead nodded in remembrance of the story told throughout the nobles of Swildagg that Vaknorbond had told their lord and lady, begging them for council in that dark hour. Faxtogar, the hammer demon, had destroyed the soul of Dril’ead when its horn pierced his back as it fell.
“Vulzdagg has ever been on the edge of ruin since Vishtax, their first lord, fell ill to some deadly disease,” Nel’ead said. “After that the existence of Vulzdagg had been founded wholly on the needs of survival in this world. They succeeded at nothing.” Nel’ead shook his head in pity for the branch that he and his sister conspired against.
“And they shall hereafter accomplish nothing,” Alastra added. “Tyla is the most skilled of our mages, is she not?”
“She is.”
“Then it is Tyla that must summon forth the doom of Vulzdagg.” Alastra smiled at the confused express
ion Nel’ead turned to her. “Gorroth, the demon of justice, shall fell the aristocracy of Vulzdagg. What better way to bring about the doom of another if not with the arm of justice?”
Nel’ead was silent in horrified hesitation as he thought of the power falling into the hands of his family. For a moment Nel’ead agreed with Alastra’s statement of an easy won victory over Vulzdagg, but now he began to think things more dangerous for them all. At first the plans were decided upon by him, but now it seemed more Alastra’s bidding that Vulzdagg’s society collapse. So much power in the hands of Alastra was too much for Nel’ead to trust her will of judgment.
Alastra might as well collapse Swildagg beneath her with so much power at her call, Nel’ead thought. If Tyla summoned a demon beyond demons, such as Gorroth, and Alastra held her position of command over Tyla, than Nel’ead would be faced with dire trouble if things went against him. Alastra would steel his power using Gorroth, and kill him if he argued against her judgment.
Nel’ead cursed silently so his sister would not notice his disapproval. “There is no better way, dear sister,” he agreed with a forced smile. A chill of anxiety swelled in his stomach as he saw the strange gleam in her eyes.
“Gorroth will be at our command,” she said, her eyes shining secretively at the mention of our.
*****
Tyla knelt in the Circle of Power. Under one arm she carried a leather-bound book of incantations, and set a low burning candle down beside her. Her breathing was unsteady with apprehension as she opened her spell book and began turning the pages with trembling fingers, searching for a certain page containing the name and whereabouts of the demon she was to summon, and the incantation to call it forth into the shadow realm.
When Alastra had inquired of her to summon the demon of justice, she had been uncertain, knowing well the power and discipline required to command such a creature as that of Gorroth. She had studied the justice demon during her second years of mage training with the other students in the magical arts academy of Swildagg, and had been amazed when reading the notes of those who studied it. It was powerful among the highest class of demons, being far beyond the summoning skill of her second year seminar. However, it was required of the students of that year to study and acquaint themselves with such high skill summons such as the Gorroth demon of justice.
Tyla laid the book down in her circle, and bent to read more clearly the words inscribed in the Urden’Dagg dialect. Beneath the orange glow of her low burning candle, Tyla saw the incantation to summon Gorroth inscribed next to a drawing etched in dark ink of the demon itself. It was the face of a humanoid beast with the features of a wolf, snarling at the crumpled form of a Fallen huddled at its feet.
She breathed deeply to steady her voice, and focused her concentration on the verse before her instead of her quivering hands. When at last she gathered her courage and determination, memorized the passage without the fear that it implied, she recited it in the commanding dialect of the Urden’Dagg.
“From the ashes of an unknown fire the demon shall awake. Its wrath shall be kindled against those whose wrongs have been unjust before its eyes. Its power shall be beyond those of earthborn. Nothing shall stand before it. All shall fall before it. Come forth Gorroth, demon of justice!”
With eyes closed and arms raised overhead, Tyla awaited the demon’s reply.
The chamber remained quiet, a sort of dead silence seeming to fall upon it as soon as she finished the magical incantation of Gorroth, and not a thing seemed alive in the world around her. The candle at her side flickered, and she opened her eyes to view the darkness within the enormous circle etched in gold before her. Nothing was there, but she did not let that deceive her. Hours might pass before the demon answered the call, and it would be dreadful to step outside the protective circle before then.
The flame of the candle suddenly shivered as if an unfelt breeze blew it, and went out with a final leap, leaving Tyla in absolute darkness. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust back to the infrared spectrum that she was more accustomed to, and folded her arms across her chest as she continued her patient wait after this – the first sign of its approach.
A faint glow began to emanate from somewhere in the darkness before her, slowly increasing with a green hue about what seemed to be mist that arose in the enormous circle. It spread, and as it spread the color shifted to a purplish red that licked at the floor. It expanded towards the center, billowing upwards as if someone was weaving it into the form of some tall creature.
Tyla breathed inward through her clenched teeth, struggling to maintain her fear of the demonic creature arising before her. She was a high class mage, the most powerful sorceress in the Swildagg branch, but even she knew her limits of power. This creature was hardly known to her, and what was known frightened her passed the normal pride with which she held herself.
As the purplish red and green mist continued to shift about, always keeping away from the edge of the enormous circle, the mage sitting uncomfortably by began to grow uneasy with the continuous show of color and shape. Tyla swallowed her anxiety and mustered the courage to give her first command to the demon.
“Gorroth, demon of justice, I command you to show yourself!” Tyla slowly rose to a standing position to face the demon of the lesser realm when it took form.
The mist was sucked inward toward the center where it billowed further upward, the colors and hues mixing into a swirling mass. It seemed to the mage that it gathered to solidify into the shape of the demon.
Tyla bit her lip and flexed her fingers, mentally preparing spell of defense if things turned for the worst. But before any sign of danger could arise, the mist disappeared and was replaced by the form of a humanoid monster standing in the center of the enormous circle, its features exactly matching that of its depiction in the spell book: The face of a wolf from the surface world. The body was like that of a man. Long angler arms with sharp claws protruding from long thin fingers, and muscled legs designed as a wolf. All in fur this beast from the lesser realm was, and its eyes bore the want of wish that drove it onward throughout the realms to fulfill its purpose, whatever that may be.
Its wolfish snout curled into a smile as it sensed her anticipation. “Gorroth, the demon of justice, has shown himself,” the specter replied, its smile widening. “What else does its master request of him?”
Tyla half relaxed, keeping her readied spell on the edge of her mind as she thought how best to explain her sisters wants and wishes with the demon of the lesser world. Alastra had made it clear that the Vulzdagg nobles were to die, but convincing the demon of justice that their demands were just would be difficult.
“Do you know Vulzdagg?” Tyla asked.
“I do,” Gorroth replied, its eyes narrowing suspiciously already.
“Than you must know of their sins in the eyes of the all great and all powerful Urden’Dagg,” said Tyla, purposefully emphasizing the title of the Urden’Dagg.
“I do,” Gorroth replied again.
“Than you know justice must be done upon them.”
“It has already been done,” Gorroth stated.
Tyla scowled, “By whom?”
“Maaha Zurdagg has had her revenge; or, at least, acted in a way of vengeance and destroyed many of that people.”
“I do not speak the voice of Maaha,” Tyla said confidently to the demon. “I speak on the behalf of mine own branch, and the blood of our lord Hestage Swildagg stained on the cloak of the Vulzdagg people.”
“That cloak signifies your Urden’Dagg,” Gorroth replied. “It is none of my concern whose blood is whose and where it has been spilt.”
“It is my concern,” Tyla shot back. “I am your master, and you will do what your master demands.”
“I do that which only the queen demands.” A yellow light flared in Gorroth’s eyes when mentioning the queen. “However, your requests may be approved by the queen, deemed just worthy, and I shall execute them.”
“Who is this queen you
speak of?” Tyla demanded, clenching her fists at her sides.
“The Shadow Queen of both the shadow world and the lesser world,” Gorroth proclaimed, his eyes shining with their yellow hue. “All bow before her! All fall before her!”
Tyla was disturbed. Did she summon a demon already in service to another? It was possible, knowing the power that Gorroth possessed, that others would call for its strength. Nonetheless she was disturbed that Gorroth had confidence enough to disregard her demands because of its loyalty to another such as a Shadow Queen.
There were tales told and retold among The Followers of such beings as the Shadow Queens, and what Tyla remembered of those stories frightened her even more. They were very powerful, greedily lusting for more power, and no one could stand between them and what their greed demanded.
Tyla swallowed, losing focus on her readied spell when distracted by the mention of a Shadow Queen. “Justice must be done upon Vulzdagg for their crimes against us, and if your queen accepts our request, than the branch of Swildagg of the Urden’Dagg tree will be grateful.”
“The queen does that which she wishes done,” said Gorroth, “and blesses those who have proved blessed before her ever seeing eyes.” the justice demon bowed low to Tyla as the mist began gathering round its feet.
It and the mist were then gone.
“Dril’ead Vulzdagg must die,” Tyla repeated aloud what Alastra had told her, “and the Vulzdagg branch must be hopelessly leaderless.” But deep inside the mage wondered, could their possibly be another such being as the all great and all powerful Urden’Dagg? Apparently there could, and Gorroth named it as the Shadow Queen.
Passage to Glory: Part Two of the Redemption Cycle Page 5
