by JW Baccaro
It seemed tough to do, especially for Nayland, having already used a great amount of energy against Valnar.
“Steady now…steady,” Darshun encouraged.
The enemies were within sight, Bugbears and Cullach—all wielding axes and swords, foaming at the mouth like a pack of rabid animals, enraged at the death of their master.
“Now!” Darshun commanded, and together they let loose their fused elements.
The expression on the enemies' faces changed from fanatic to cowardice, then to disparity with no time for retreat nor even to dart off to the side. The fusion of fire and wind struck, the fire disintegrating every foe in its path, the wind pushing the fire on until it reached the roof and then went out like a lamp.
Exhausted, Nayland fell to his knees.
“Come on,” Darshun prompted, putting Kaylis over his shoulder. “We have to get out of here.”
They ran up the steaming tunnel, stepping over piles of ash and ventured onto the roof. The morning sun just arrived and they heard lots of commotion below. Running to the ledge, they saw a battle between the Aryeh and Bugbears taking place. Hundreds of Bugbears lay killed and continuously fell by the Aryehs' dead-on piercing arrows and swift blows of steel.
Then unexpectedly—Dark Elves joined the battle, coming out of the wood work, attacking from the trees—and that became another element, the trees! Working in favor with the enemy any tree an Aryeh used for cover began making loud creaking noises, giving away their positions, or large heavy branches would somehow ‘fall’ off like rotten limbs crushing them. Some attempted climbing, meeting the Dark Elves from on high, but vines quickly bound them up making them easy targets for the Dark Elves.
Not a single Aryeh possessed the ability to use Forest Magic, not in these woodlands.
To make matters worse, another two or three hundred Bugbears crossed the bridge to join the battle and the fighting grew more intense. However, despite the odds, the Aryeh still proved to be dangerous opponents, as piles and piles of Bugbear and Dark Elf carcasses continued stacking up.
Though one beast could not be touched, the Ettin! From the start, its body count remained high, mercilessly crushing every Aryeh in its path. Some fell by its massive club, repetitively beaten to death, others by the long spear—sometimes piercing two at once. A few tried attacking the thing from behind; they failed miserably as both the ugly heads worked together, glancing to and fro, back and forth, seeing nearly every angle. Arrows seemed to have little effect on its rough skin. With Aryeh after Aryeh falling victim to the Ettin, it suddenly caught wind of four others crossing the bridge—three of them not being Elves drawing the creature’s attention.
Mirabel, Minevara, Caelestias, and the Centaur Favonius.
Viciously roaring with massive amounts of saliva gushing out the mouths of its two heads, it rushed over, meeting them in the middle.
All stepped away from the hideous thing except one, Mirabel. He transformed with his sudden burst of yellow blinding it.
In seconds however, the Ettin regained sight, raised its club in one hand, long spear in the other, then charged, the bridge vibrating from the heavy thumps.
Mirabel stood his ground, showing no fear, and struck the creature down with a mighty surge of lightning, blowing the colossal body to smithereens.
As the thunder finished its roar, charred chunks of Ettin fell everywhere, in fact an entire head—mangled and scorched landed beside Minevara’s feet. “Ugh!” she said, kicking it off the bridge. “Disgusting.”
The four crossed over and joined the battle.
“The enemies are too many,” Darshun warned. “My father and the others can not possibly win. We must find a way down to help.”
“Climb?”
Looking below, Darshun sighed. “No, the stone is too smooth, there is nothing to grip. Ah darn! We should have tried going the other way. What was I thinking coming up here?”
"You know Darshun, I was wondering that also, but felt too tired to argue."
“My gut told me to, but why did I listen? Ugh! I am such a fool!" he yelled, being angry with himself. "Now what do we do, sit here and watch our friends die?”
“I am—sorry, Darshun.”
What is he sorry for? I was the one with the stupid idea.
Abruptly, a great crash sounded from below and the tower trembled as if it might collapse. Then they saw the red Dragon ascending into the sky; it’d broken through the rock out of the second level, damaging the foundation of the tower. He flew up a great distance, feasted his eyes upon something, like a lion going in for the kill, then descended breathing fire upon the Bugbear archers standing on the outer levels of the tower and scorched all other foes crossing the bridge to attack the Aryeh.
Darshun and Nayland shouted with joy but perhaps too soon. The tower began moving back and forth, shaking excessively.
“We have not much time before the tower collapses,” Darshun observed. “We have to do something.”
"What?"
"Eh, I do not know. Jump for the river?"
"That’s a far drop, granted we land in deep water."
"Do you have any better ideas?"
Then the Dragon caught them in its gaze and quickly flew over, the rushing wind blowing them back. “Climb on it. Hurry!” the dragon roared.
Glancing at each other, feeling as though a miracle had been bestowed upon them, they did as the Dragon instructed. Nayland letting Darshun go first, carrying Kaylis over his shoulder. Then took his turn, and just in the nick of time, for as soon as his feet left the roof, the tower came apart and thousands of stones from the seven layers tumbled to the river and its rubble sent up a thick cloud of gray dust.
“That was too close,” Darshun noted. Gazing below, he saw the Aryeh suffering heavy casualties. There were no more Cullach, but still plenty of Bugbears and Dark Elves, not to mention the trees. “We have to help them.”
“It agrees,” the Dragon said. “Guardian, get friends and all Elves out of that forest.”
“What are you going to do?”
"What it does best…burn."
"All right, but you have to give us some time. And please, take Kaylis to safety.”
“As is requested.” The Dragon descended to the ground, dropping them off, then returned to the sky, gently carrying Kaylis in his mouth and flew out of sight.
Darshun and Nayland joined the battle, fighting side-by-side, working together in cutting down every foe in their path, and saving the lives of numerous Aryeh.
Taking notice, Mirabel rushed over. “Darshun!” he called, astonished at his Ascension. Until now, he’d never seen it.
"Father, we must get everyone out of here. The Dragon is returning shortly to burn this place to the ground."
“All right.”
Locating the elvish captain Strizar, the one who carried the horn of battle, Darshun quickly told him the situation and he blew the horn of Ashhaven twice, letting the first blow sound three seconds and the latter five seconds. He repeated it once more, the code for retreat.
All began to make way, following Strizar who followed after Darshun.
Caelestias remained furthest back, protecting his people, taking out each and every Dark Elf or Bugbear targeting an Aryeh; the elvish lord seemed immaculate in speed and target and had already taken down over three dozen. He now grew short on arrows and began to retreat himself.
Darshun seemed to be leading them to a near-by field.
The enemies attempted to pursue but the Centaur Favonius, who’d stayed close with Caelestias, began singing a strange chant that bounced off the trees, the notes separating into different directions, piercing the ears of the enemy and confusing their minds so much—they lost sight of the Aryeh.
Inexplicably, a shadow dawned in the sky and the sun ceased to give its light. The enemies gazed up and saw the red Dragon descending upon them. A great wind blew and the smell of sulfur and asphalt filled the air. Some attempted to retreat while others fired arrows at him, all were i
n vain. The Dragon opened his red glowing mouth and breathed massive flames upon the forest. The fire spread like a plague of death and in minutes, the entire woodland once aside Valnar’s tower turned to burning ash.
The battle ended.
A few minutes later with the smoke still strong in the air, Caelestias seemed settled in the field. “Is everyone all right?”
They were, though about two hundred Aryeh had been killed. The loss seemed bad, but for a good cause. Now passing through Asgoth to enter Syngothra would be possible, to destroy the real threat the world faced—Abaddon.
Minevara approached Darshun with dazzled eyes. “Um—you are Windtros are you not?” she asked.
Laughing, he answered, “Of course I am.”
“But—you’re so much taller! Your hair is longer—thicker, your eyes have changed, and—blue? I thought Red Fire was my little brother’s Transformation.”
“This is called ‘Ascension,’ a level beyond Transformation. Just a little trick my father taught me,” he said with a smile then returned to his original form.
“Ah, now that is the Windtros I know. Though I admit, the form was wild.”
“Perhaps, I could teach you some day.”
“Perhaps.”
“Say, how did you all get out?”
“Once the Eye was destroyed the bars holding the Dragon disappeared. He told us about a secondary exit leading to the bridge he’d seen others take at one time. Then the Centaur awoke. We grabbed him and made our retreat. The Dragon said to hurry ‘cause it intended to crack the foundation of the tower’. Though he could have given us a little more time. We had to pass through a host of enemies, even the Ettin. Ha, your father blew it to pieces.”
“I know, Nayland and I were watching from the roof.” Darshun chuckled. “Until the dragon came that is.”
Just then, the magnificent Centaur Favonius trotted over to Darshun, his wild auburn hair blowing in a breeze, his stern brown eyes piercing.
Staring back, Darshun just could not keep up with all the strange unearthly creatures he’d come to meet lately, making him realize there was so much more to the world than he could possibly know.
“Thank you for setting me free,” Favonius said bowing his head. He spoke in a smooth, elegant kind of tone.
Darshun liked him immediately.
“I am forever in your debt.”
“Do not thank me, thank Nayland. Wait, where is he anyway?”
They all gazed around and saw him at the end of the field sitting next to his brother Kaylis.
They ventured over and saw Kaylis still unconscious.
Nayland kept his back to them and remained as such.
“Nayland?” Darshun asked.
“I will be fine,” he said. Then as if wishing to be alone, he stood up and moved further away.
Mirabel knelt down to Kaylis and touched his forehead.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. “Mir—Mirabel?” Kaylis gasped with utter surprise, believing this to be a dream. Then suddenly realized the reality. “Mirabel!” He sat up quickly, giving Mirabel a long overdue hug. “Say…is it really you?”
“Yes, my old friend, it is I. Just as I promised long ago, we have met again.”
“Oh, how long it has been!” Kaylis glanced around and looked surprised to see everyone, especially Darshun. “Wow, what a welcoming.”
“Kaylis, the last time we met I freed you from captivity and yet again, I find you a prisoner?” Darshun teased. “You have got to learn to stay out of trouble.”
“Oh, are you one to talk Windtros,” Minevara interrupted, teasing Darshun right back.
“Heh.”
“Forgive me,” Kaylis spoke, “I was in a battle against Dark Elves, and tried to outrun a storm. Then I got lost and stumbled upon the Centaur Favonius. That was when we were attacked by—what did you call them Favonius?”
“Lamias…and Valnar himself.”
“I do not remember any other. In fact, the last thing I can remember is fighting against the Lamias. What has taken place since my unconsciousness?”
“It is best to be explained later,” Darshun urged. “Realize now that you are safe.”
“Oh Darshun, thank you, my Guardian.”
“Guardian?—Guardian!” Favonius said sternly, staring at Darshun and his necklace, especially the seven pointed star encased within the transparent crystal. “Many days I’ve been searching for you.”
“For—me?”
“Yes of course, the Guardian of Prophecy.”
Everyone new I meet always knows more about me than I know about them. I feel like an ignorant child. "Where do you come from?"
“The village Cestmir. Strange things have been taking place these last six months. My people sensed it within the air and through the spirit of the Sacred Trees. Yet, they have done little to nothing for salvation. They chose to live in exile long ago, abandoning all races but their own. So I ventured off myself. Along my quest, I have seen many horrors of the Dark, many slaughters and Black Magics. I knew the Second Great War was already upon us, so I have been searching for the Guardian. The stars of heaven have spoken his arrival, Darshun Luthais. Your arrival.”
“You can read the stars?”
“Of course, that is a gift all Centaurs share. The stars of heaven are like written histories. Studied carefully, they reveal many things.”
“I am honored that you will fight alongside of us.” Darshun nodded at him.
“Now that I found you, or rather, you found me…I align myself to you 'till the very end.”
Kaylis stood up and gazed past the crowd and saw a familiar figure having his back to everyone. “Nayland!” he called rather loud and excitedly.
Nayland turned around with—tears in his eyes? No, not Nayland. “…Brother,” he called back, curving his lips into a smile; then rose to his feet and ventured off, passing into the woodlands.
Kaylis meant to follow but Darshun grabbed his arm. “Leave him be for now,” he urged. “He needs to be alone. To think things out.”
“But I have not seen him in years!” Kaylis exclaimed, his eyes shifting back and forth from Nayland to Darshun. “What is wrong with my brother?”
“He fought an incredible battle against Valnar, not just physically, also by the will of the mind, struggling to overcome the darkness within his heart. He saved my life and yours too— perhaps all of us.”
“I never would imagine to see tears in his eyes, not Nayland.”
“I second that,” Minevara commented. “And I have not known him a month.” Though in secret, perhaps even more than Kaylis, she wanted to comfort him badly, but heeded to Darshun’s advice. For the moment, he needed space, solitude.
“But I must speak with him,” Kaylis pleaded.
“Give him some time and you shall,” Darshun soothed.
Taking all of this in, carefully watching Darshun, Mirabel placed an arm around him. “I am very proud of you my son. You certainly have come a long way.”
“The Dragon is coming!” Caelestias shouted.
Soaring down from the sky, with a rushing wind, the Dragon landed before them. Now for the first time, without any distractions they witnessed his majestic glory. Standing about fifty feet tall, he sported dark-red scales, two colossal-size hind legs, two bulky front legs, a large head and a tail that swayed like a cedar tree. A series of black spikes ran along the sides of his face, making it look as though he’d fashioned a beard; two long black horns sat upon the top of his skull, and jagged armor-like plates beginning just below his neck, traveling down the center of his back—all the way to the tip of his tail. His wings overshadowed the sun’s light and those wondrous ruby-red eyes told of wisdom. He seemed a magnificent but frightening sight. “Valnar’s Eye vanquishes,” he spoke, in a deep rumbling tone. “Guardian, you now pass through Asgoth and enter Syngothra.”
“I know, and I can not thank you enough for all your help Dragon.” Darshun bowed his head at him with honor.
"Dragon? Ah yes
, it forgets its name. Now the memory returns. It is Uriel, 'Fire of God.' And it must return to its master, if by fate master lives.”
“Who is your master?” Mirabel asked, remembering he’d never answered him before.
“A wise one. Until the next meeting, be well.”
Uriel lifted his wings, blowing excessive amounts of wind and dust into their faces He then took to the sky and disappeared into the skyline.
"A wise one?" Darshun asked. "I wonder who he means?"
While Mirabel could not be positive, his instinct told him only one name. “The name by which ‘wise one’ in Wizard language means—Olchemy!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
PRINCESS OF CYTERIA
During the middle of the night, there came a knock on the Dark King’s chambers. Annoyed at being disturbed Tanarokai opened the door preparing to scold whoever it may be, until he witnessed a figure hooded and cloaked in a black robe, with expressionless gray eyes, the High Wizard Levieth. Immediately, he bowed.
“Stand,” Levieth ordered.
Rising up, he met his gray gaze. “What brings you here at this hour?”
Ignoring him, the High Wizard entered, scanning the room for Talvenya. “Where is your Queen?”
“Blah!” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Since the day Lord Abaddon departed, Talvenya has neglected to share my bed! She spends her nights down by the river. Seldom does she make an appearance at Volborg. And when she does, it is only to ensure that none of the slaves are ‘suffering.’ She even put an end to the Gershom Pits. Slaves worthy enough to be placed into the pits are now executed quickly, painlessly! And there’s nothing I can do because the laws of this country regarding such issues have been given to the Queen to decide. But Talvenya is not the same Queen we once knew. The woman has become soft, and sloppy in her works.”
“The latter I agree. Mercy, however, is not a weakness.”
Tanarokai looked bewildered. “Oh? Are you not Abaddon’s most loyal follower? Who is more cold blooded than he?”
