by Lana Axe
Others within the village had witnessed the spectacle and were on their way to investigate. A few of them had already gathered on the bank, watching intently as River inspected the corpse. Ryllak noticed the commotion and decided to make sure River was all right.
Pushing his way past the crowd, Ryllak waded into the water and made his way to his son’s side. River’s face was troubled, and Ryllak reached out to comfort him.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, but this dwarf certainly isn’t.” His concern was obvious in his voice, his hands shaking slightly as he placed them on each side of the dwarf’s head. Blue magic spread over the body as River looked inside the dwarf’s mind.
Ryllak waited anxiously, maintaining his silence so as not to break River’s concentration. He worried what his son might see and hoped it would not be too much for him to handle. Though he was of age, Ryllak could not stop thinking of him as a child.
“This man was ill,” River said softly. “He is a miner from a dwarf village in the mountains, and he became ill shortly after beginning his work this morning. He went to a creek somewhere above to cool his fevered skin before falling in.” River removed his hands from the dwarf and looked at his father. “I believe he drowned and was carried away for miles in the current before ending up here.”
Thinking of his son’s welfare first, Ryllak replied, “Is this illness contagious? Should you be touching him?”
“I don’t know what it is,” River admitted. “The Spirit may know since the dwarf is in its waters. I don’t sense any danger for myself, but for the rest of our village I cannot say.”
“You should speak to the Spirit, then,” Ryllak said. “I will move this unfortunate dwarf to the riverbank.” Carefully, Ryllak dragged the body away. As he reached the bank, other elves offered their assistance in pulling the dwarf from the water.
River turned his attention back to the waterfall and stared into the deep blue water at its base. Focusing his energy, his eyes flashed sparkling blue. The Spirit had come to offer its guidance. Sensing its presence, River relaxed his body, allowing his mind to open and receive the Spirit’s words.
Ryllak gazed out into the water where River stood encompassed by a pale-blue light. He hoped the information his son received would be good news, but in his heart, he knew that would not be the case. The appearance of this dwarf was far too strange to be a mere coincidence. Such a thing had never before occurred in the Vale.
Patiently he waited until River began making his way to the riverbank. As he drew closer, Ryllak could see the concerned look on his son’s face, and his heart sank. There was trouble ahead, and he feared that his son might soon be in grave danger.
Chapter 3
Thunder rumbled softly in the distance as Kaiya sat motionless, her face turned toward the wind. A gentle mist began to fall, and she lifted the hood of her gray woolen cloak. The sky grew ever darker, encompassing the dwarven villages of the Wrathful Mountains in shadow.
“You’ll catch your death out there!” Kassie cried, leaning her head out of the doorway. She promptly slammed the door shut to keep out the rain.
“Coming, Mum,” Kaiya replied quietly. Slowly, she stood and made her way back to the farmhouse. Only once did she pause, gazing one last time at the sky. Taking a deep breath, she filled her lungs with the fresh scent of rain that precedes a storm. With a sigh, she continued inside her home.
“There you are,” her mother remarked.
Kaiya removed her damp cloak and carefully placed it on a hook near the door. “It’s not a bad storm,” she said. “There’s no need for a fuss.”
Kassie giggled with joy as she looked upon her daughter. “You’re all frizzy from the rain, my dear.” Licking her hand, she attempted to smooth Kaiya’s short violet locks.
“Stop, Mum,” Kaiya said, backing away. “It’s fine.”
“Of course it is,” Darvil broke in. “It’s not as if she’s after a husband.”
“Not tonight, anyway,” her mother replied with a smirk.
“If you’re going to remain an old maid, at least help your mother with dinner,” he grumbled, scratching the thick red beard on his chin. “It’s not right to still be living with your parents at your age. It’s high time—”
“I found a husband and got on with my life—yadda, yadda, yadda,” Kaiya finished.
“It’s that smart mouth of yours that keeps you from finding a man,” her father declared.
Sighing, Kaiya joined her mother in the kitchen.
“Don’t listen to him,” Kassie said. “He’s glad to have you here to help out, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. The boys have gone, and my sweet girl can stay as long as she likes.” She smiled warmly at Kaiya.
“I still wish he wouldn’t say things like that,” she replied. “It’s already hard enough being different.”
“You’re special, that’s all,” her mother said. “Someday you’ll find someone who’s right for you, and then you’ll be off to have children of your own.”
Kaiya did not reply. Having children was not on her list of things she wanted to do. All her life she had been treated as an outcast, thanks to her magical abilities. Dwarves were not known to possess such skill, and none of her peers could relate to her situation. She was different, and that was all the reason they needed to be cruel. Her father’s constant reminders of her lack of a husband did not help matters. At nearly thirty years of age, she was already older than most brides. Marriage did not matter to Kaiya. She had dedicated every free moment to the study of magic, and she did not intend to suppress her talents in order to fit in.
Outside, the wind started to howl. Kaiya dashed to the window to look upon the storm. The trees danced and swayed, urged on by the powerful gusts. Lightning reflected in her gray eyes, and she felt a sudden surge of power rush through her body.
“Come away from the window, Kaiya,” her mother said softly.
Kaiya did not reply. Instead, she remained silent, entranced as she looked upon the storm.
“Kaiya,” her mother said again. “Please.”
Dropping her gaze to the floor, Kaiya moved away from the window and took a seat at her mother’s side. “I sense a presence in the storm,” she said quietly.
“You’re scaring me, Kaiya,” Kassie replied nervously. “Let’s just have dinner, all right?”
Still troubled by the feeling, Kaiya nodded and rose from her seat. Retrieving dishes from the cabinet, she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. An intense headache overcame her, and she dropped her head into her hands.
“Kaiya, what is it?” her mother asked, concerned. Rushing to her daughter’s side, she helped her back to her seat. “Tell me,” she said.
“I don’t know,” Kaiya replied. “I feel sick all of a sudden. There’s something out there, Mum. I don’t think it’s something nice.”
Darvil made his way into the kitchen hoping to eat but saw that his daughter was ailing. “What is it, girl?” he asked as tenderly as he could manage.
“She’s not feeling well,” Kassie replied. “It’s that magic. She senses something in the storm.”
“An evil spirit?” Darvil asked. “That’s the only thing that could account for this.” He bent forward and patted his daughter’s head. “Let Papa help you to bed,” he said, helping her to her feet.
Kaiya nodded slowly and rested her head on her father’s shoulder. Together they ascended the stairs to Kaiya’s room.
After helping her into bed, Darvil said, “You know I love you, girl. I didn’t mean those things I said about having you married off.”
Weakly, Kaiya replied, “I know, Papa.” The pain in her head intensified, and tears filled her eyes.
Kassie made her way up the stairs with a bowl of cool water and a cloth for Kaiya’s forehead. Gently, she patted her daughter’s face with the damp cloth, hoping to soothe her pain. The storm continued to rage outside, and the wind howled as if crying out for help.
With a sudden jolt,
Kaiya bolted upright in her bed. Kassie jumped back, startled.
“What is it?”
“The wind,” Kaiya replied, her gray eyes beginning to shine with magic. “It’s calling to me.”
“Let it call,” Darvil replied. “You need your rest.” He quickly went over to the window and fastened the shutters.
“Rest, dear,” Kassie said softly, still patting Kaiya’s face with the cloth.
Kaiya settled back into her bed, squeezing her eyes shut. Just breathe, she thought. This will pass. The wind continued to call, and she fought the urge to run out into the storm. She knew there was no danger for her, but she did not wish to frighten her parents.
Somewhere nearby, a presence had awakened. Though she did not know exactly what it was, Kaiya knew it was evil by nature. A dark spirit had come into the Wrathful Mountains, and its purpose was unclear.
Despite the evil presence, Kaiya felt no fear. With the wind as her ally, she knew she would be safe from harm. Her family, though, might not be so lucky. Danger was about to descend upon the dwarves of the mountain.
Chapter 4
Telorithan took a seat in his former master’s library to await his arrival. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his long red robe and casually twirled a silver strand of hair on his finger. The mirror above the fireplace attracted his attention, giving him yet another opportunity to admire himself. There could never be another as beautiful as me, he thought. His blue eyes sparkled, accentuated by the bronze-toned skin of his face. I am truly perfection.
Though he had been sitting only a few minutes, he began to tap his finger against the arm of his chair. Patience was not a virtue he possessed. When he wanted something, he wanted it immediately, and nothing could stand in his way. Today he came seeking his mentor’s advice in hopes that the old elf would be able to assist in his latest endeavor.
Finally, Yiranor entered the library wearing his usual red-black robe, his face showing his advanced age. He smiled warmly at his former apprentice. “So delightful to see you, Telorithan. It’s always a pleasure to have you visit.”
Remaining in his seat, Telorithan nodded. “Yes,” he replied dismissively. “Tell me, do you have any knowledge of the process of soul binding?”
Yiranor was momentarily shocked by the question, his mouth dropping open in reply. Telorithan raised his eyebrows, awaiting a response. Slowly, Yiranor regained his composure and took a seat opposite his guest.
“It’s a banned practice. Please tell me you aren’t wasting your talents on such nonsense.” His dark eyes regarded his former pupil suspiciously.
“Always the teacher,” Telorithan replied, shaking his head. “As a matter of fact, I have been doing some research in that field. I have had success with animal specimens, and I’m planning to expand my research to include elven subjects.”
Yiranor, who was taking a sip of tea, coughed and sputtered. Telorithan sat unmoving and expressionless. The practice of soul binding had been banned for centuries in the Sunswept Isles. No Enlightened Elf had publicly admitted to performing such magic in living memory.
“I am shocked by this, Telorithan,” Yiranor finally replied. “You were among the youngest ever to achieve the rank of Master. You were the finest pupil I ever taught, and now you are wasting your talents on this? Is this what you’ve been doing for the past two hundred years? Tell me I have misunderstood.”
“On the contrary,” Telorithan said. “You have understood me perfectly. It is my intention to eventually bind the essence of a god.”
The old elf stared at him in disbelief. “The gods cannot be bound. That is what makes them gods.”
“Yes, but they were elves once,” Telorithan replied, his voice becoming excited. “No one has discovered what process they used to make themselves what they are now. I have searched high and low, finding nothing but dead ends. With soul binding, I don’t need to know their process. I can simply take what they already have.”
“Simply?” Yiranor echoed, jumping to his feet. “This is no simple task you speak of. Soul binding takes immense concentration and vast amounts of power.”
A wicked grin spread across Telorithan’s face. “So you do have some knowledge of the process?”
Sighing, Yiranor sank back into his chair. “I admit I have studied such things in the past. I was intrigued by the process, but I never practiced it on any living creature.”
“What exactly did you study? Where can I find more information?” Telorithan leaned in close to Yiranor, interlacing his fingers in an effort to stop himself from fidgeting with excitement.
“We should not be speaking of such things.” Yiranor was plainly uncomfortable with the conversation.
“But we are speaking of it,” Telorithan replied. “Why is the process banned? Because other sorcerers did not have the power to control the bound essences. They were failures. I will succeed.”
Yiranor eyed him suspiciously, still unsure if he should share the information he was withholding. Telorithan had been an extremely talented student, but he could be impulsive and was quick to anger.
Seeing that Yiranor was not yet convinced, Telorithan tried again. “If I can perfect the process, everyone will want to perform this magic. The process will no longer be banned.” These words were empty. Telorithan had no intention of sharing anything he had learned or was yet to learn with any other sorcerer.
Considering his former student’s words carefully, Yiranor asked, “Do you truly think soul binding could be put to good use? Which elves would be subject to the binding? How would you choose?”
“We can use criminals for practice. Once the process is perfected, anyone is fair game. If you don’t want your essence bound, you had better be strong enough to put up a fight.”
“That’s a dreadful way of putting it, Telorithan. I hope you didn’t expect to convince me with such talk.” Yiranor had always been somewhat frightened of his apprentice, but he tried not to show it as he spoke.
“Honestly,” Telorithan began, “I am doing this for my own benefit. If others wish to follow along afterward, it is no concern of mine. No one is as skilled as I am. No one else will be able to bind a god.” He did not bother to hide his conceit. To him, the only thing that mattered was obtaining his mentor’s help. Somewhere within this library was a scroll that could answer all of his questions. He was determined to obtain it at any cost.
“I suppose that is for the best,” Yiranor admitted. “I do not relish the thought of elves dueling over trivial matters in an effort to collect souls. There would be chaos in the streets!”
“Will you help me?” Telorithan asked impatiently. “You have a vast collection here. You’ve managed to obtain texts the University would not allow in its library.”
The old elf beamed with pride, a smug expression settling on his wrinkled face. “It’s true. My travels have afforded me some rather valuable little trinkets.”
“There must be something here I can use. I need your help, Yiranor.”
Yiranor couldn’t help but feel sentimental at the plea of his former student. Though he was a dangerous elf to cross, he had always felt a special bond with him. Having no children of his own, he had come to look upon Telorithan as his own son. “I will do what I can,” he replied. “I believe I have what you are looking for.”
Telorithan smiled, knowing he had come to the right place. Yiranor was a man of wealth, and within his spire were ancient texts and artifacts that would rival even the finest museum. Though he would never admit to such things, Yiranor had dabbled in dark magic in the past. If anyone could provide the information Telorithan was seeking, it was his former master.
The old elf popped up from his seat with surprising energy. Turning to observe the shelves of his library, he lifted a finger in the air and shook it. Finally deciding on a direction, he pointed and said, “That way.”
Telorithan followed closely behind as Yiranor headed for a shelf at the farthest end of the room. On a low shelf was an ornate golden chest carved wi
th runes. Yiranor ran his hands over the lid, caressing it gently.
“This is a rare thing indeed,” he said. “Inside this chest are documents written by the ancients themselves. They cover all manner of dark magics, including soul binding.”
“Why didn’t you show this to me immediately?” Telorithan asked, slightly offended. “You’ve known all along you have what I need. Why did you require me to beg?”
“Nonsense,” Yiranor replied. “I only wanted you to explain a little. No harm in that, is there?”
“There could have been,” Telorithan snapped. His eyes flashed red with anger, but he had no intention of harming his mentor.
A warning was fair enough, for Yiranor knew he could never defeat his former student in a duel. “You may study this here or take it with you,” Yiranor offered. “I would enjoy working on this with you. I have greatly missed your presence here in my spire.”
Telorithan rolled his eyes. He had no need for the old elf’s emotional connection. Knowledge and power were far more important than any friendship. “If you have knowledge, then I suggest you share it.”
Yiranor nodded and lifted the chest from its shelf. “Let’s have a look at these scrolls, shall we?” he said as he proceeded to a long wooden table. Placing the chest on the table, he opened the lid and took out four scrolls. “I looked at these nearly a thousand years ago and haven’t taken them out since. I admit I read about the practice, but I never tried to cast a binding spell. The idea was tempting, but I didn’t have the desire to harm anyone by practicing on them.”
“And that’s why you failed to learn,” Telorithan said. “I will not fail.”
Chapter 5
Early the following morning, Kaiya stepped outside to bask in the warm glow of the sun. The storm had left no trace of its presence the night before, and the dark clouds had all flown away. As she made her way across the pasture, a black-and-tan herding dog came bounding toward her, his tail wagging frantically.
