by T. A. Uner
Lager scratched his head and pulled his shoulder length hair into a ponytail. Marella placed her hand on Fabian’s arm. “Are you sure? We’re in the Darklands, this could be a trap.”
“Tildon said we’d find it after passing the endurance test of the Bronze Door,” Fabian said. He looked like an eager child who’d been given a new toy. “It’s here, and, it’s beautiful.” Fabian ran his hand down the front of the door, it too was studded, just like the Bronze Hellion Door, but this one had a doorknocker shaped in the form of a Wolf’s head, and he described it to his friends as such. What it was doing deep in enemy territory was another matter. He had a feeling he would find out, on the other side.
The eyes of the wolf started glowing blue and the light surrounding the door became blinding, although Fabian’s helm filtered out the powerful rays so that he could still see the outline of the Door. “State your purpose!” a voice said. It sounded like war drums beating, getting louder.
“Who said that?” Lager said, looking around.
“Perhaps it was the door,” Marella suggested.
Matilda barked and looked around Fabian’s leg.
“Yes, humans, I ask again, state your purpose,” it repeated ominously.
“We wish to pass through,” Fabian said, “we are on a mission, and were told that traversing the three doors would aid our cause.”
“Who told you this?” the Silver Door asked.
“Mage Tildon Crossmark, First State Sorcerer of Rek; I am Fabian SilverSword, a crusader in the service of the Gold King.”
“SilverSword?” the Door answered. “My creator was also named SilverSword.”
“He was my ancestor, Yule SilverSword.”
“Very well, young SilverSword, you and your companions may now step through me.”
The Silver Door appeared so that now Lager and Marella could see it as well. Taking their horses with them, they passed through the Silver Door, and into another world.
Thirteen
“Welcome to my Realm,” the Silver Hellion Door said.
Around them the terrain remained the same, except the predominant dark sky was gone. In its place a Silveresque sky with clouds shaped like sleeping dragons. “What is my challenge?” Fabian asked.
The Silver Door remained quiet for a few ticks before speaking. “Long ago, before Rek had been united under the first Gold King, we were created, to aid anyone who wished to use our power for knowledge, and to better themselves. My guardian shall brief you on your specific challenge.”
“Who?” Lager asked.
The door became silent again.
“Silver Door, who?” Marella insisted.
“Yes,” Fabian said, “Tell us.”
The landscape changed, transforming into a field with lush green grass, while chubby buzz bees flew about, sucking nectar from yellow flowers. Before them stood a ledge, upon it was a knight sitting atop a white charger decked in gold barding and decorated with the images of the Golden Sunface , the official crest of Rek. The knight wore a golden suit of armor with a red plume, carried a lance and shield which also featured the sunface, around his waist hung an elaborate scabbard for a greatsword.
“Earl Jonas Rek,” Fabian said, remembering his childhood hero.
“Who?” Lager asked.
“Earl Rek was the First Gold King’s champion who defeated the Chimerat; my father used to tell me stories of his adventures.”
“I’ve heard of him,” Marella said. “Learned about him in my world history class.”
Earl Rek descended the ledge and approached them. “What business have you here, strangers?” he asked suspiciously.
Fabian bowed his head respectfully. “Excuse us Earl Rek,” Fabian said, “we are crusaders on behalf of the Gold King. The Golden Mane, well, it has been stolen.”
“Stolen?” The Earl’s horse snorted. “Impossible! Do you expect me to believe that? I just recently entrusted it to my dear friend Governor Bram.”
“A lot has happened since you’ve left, Earl,” Lager said.
“Three hundred cycles,” Fabian muttered.
Earl Rek lifted the faceplate of his helm, revealing a bearded face lined with specks of gray. A pair of solemn eyebrows above discerning green eyes. “That cannot be, I left just yesterday.”
“It would appear time inside the Door elapses at a different speed.”
“Perhaps this can vouch for us,” Fabian said. He took out the Truth Diamond and Earl Rek’s eyes widened in wonder.
“Where did you get that?”
“From a very strange old fellow,” Marella said. “Sweet, but strange.”
“Mage Tildon Crossmark.” Fabian extended the Diamond to Earl Rek who planted his lance into the ground and took it into his hands.
“Did you say Crossmark?” Earl Rek smiled. “He was one of my best friends.”
“We need your help Earl,” Fabian said. “The Kingdom of Rek, needs your help.”
The Earl handed the Diamond back to Fabian and dismounted. “Rek?” he said. “I’ve never heard of that Kingdom.”
“That’s because it was named in your Honor after you disappeared with the Silver Door,” Fabian said. “You are our greatest hero, the story of how you slew the Chimerat is known by every Rekian.”
Earl Rek sat on a rock and removed his helm, while running a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “I never fancied myself as a Hero; just a man working for peace.”
“We have a task to complete and only you can help us.” Fabian removed his Ram helm. “Will you help us?”
Earl Rek considered Fabian’s request and then nodded. “You carry the Truth Diamond and are friends of Tildon Crossmark, how could I refuse?”
***
“I have desired guests for a long time,” Earl Rek said as they dined on roasted fowl and potato soup inside his cabin. Fabian provided the Pickleberry Wine that Tildon had given him and gave the Earl two extra bottles.
“It has been too long since I have been denied the delicious taste of Pickleberry Wine.” The Earl drank heartily.
“Did you build this place?” Marella asked.
“Yes, my lady,” Rek replied. “The Door has provided me with all the building materials I need to survive, as well as food items so that I may eat. But unfortunately no Pickleberries grow within this Realm.”
“You were going to tell us about the Silver Door’s challenge?” Fabian reminded Jonas Rek.
“Ahh, yes, of course, my apologies,” Rek wiped his mouth with a dinner napkin. “The key to success in the Silver Door’s Mental challenge is to know and control your fear.”
“Is that all, Earl Rek?” Lager said.
“I’m afraid so Command McVick; my weakness was fear of water when I first came here. But good Tildon prepared me for the task, and now it is only fair I prepare Fabian for the coming ordeal.”
“I guess I’ll have to be mindful of my fears,” Fabian said.
“No drink, Lager?” Marella asked. They all looked surprised that he had abstained from alcohol for so long. Lager shook his head to indicate that he didn’t.
“You all seem like worthy champions: Marella an expert Stealer from Pazland, Commander McVick from Earth, who has come to us from another world—they really have ships that can fly between the stars?”
Lager nodded.
“Amazing.”
“And don’t forget Fabian, or ‘Stone Ram’ as we call him,” Lager added.
Earl Rek grinned profusely. “How could I forget him? Progeny of the great Yule SilverSword, the creator of the Silver Hellion Door. Your bloodlines and allies should prove enough to confront this Blood Reeper, my young friend.”
II
“Come back with us, Earl Rek,” Fabian said. “We could use your help against the Blood Reeper.”
The Earl smiled as he escorted them away from his cabin on horseback. “My Good Fabian, years ago, or centuries ago as you all tell me, I grew weary of my fame. After I’d defeated the Chimerat I could not go back to my ol
d lifestyle, for the people would hound me at every turn, worshiping as if I were some sort of idol. It was maddening. That was why I asked the Silver Door to bring me here, to the Darklands, where I knew no one could disturb me and I could live out my life in peace. It created a world which I could live in, and, to this day, with the exception of you and your honorable friends, I have lived in solitude.”
“But the people of Rek need inspiration,” Fabian said, “you’re a legend.”
Earl Rek smiled, and for the first time Fabian could see the years outlined on his face. “Old legends belong in the past, young SilverSword, that way new ones can be born. The future of Rek belongs to you; you must inspire the people with your exploits.”
Lager smiled. “He makes sense, Ram.”
Fabian nodded. “Your secret will be safe, with us, Earl Rek.”
“An honorable action, from an honorable source,” Earl Rek replied. “Farewell dear friends.” He lowered his visor and rode off, dust picking up behind his horse’s hooves before he turned around and waved farewell one last time.
Then, he was gone.
***
“Better get started; the sooner the better,” Lager said.
Fabian nodded, but as he did he felt a something coursing through his brain, as if water was seeping into his skull. He shook his head.
Marella noticed this. “Are you well, Hero Fabian?” she asked.
“Why do you assume I am not well,” retorted, “don’t you trust me?”
“Hey Ram, she was only trying to help.”
“I don’t need her help, Earther,” Fabian said. Lager shot him a sour look but remained silent. “I don’t like your kind,” Fabian said, coming to our planet, and not sharing your precious secrets with us, you’re hiding something.”
Matilda barked at Fabian. He looked at her and pointed his staff. “Don’t you turn on me too you four-legged beast!”
“This isn’t right,” Marella said. “Something is affecting him.”
“Perhaps it’s the Door that’s affecting you,” Lager said.
Fabian’s head started floating in a sea of thoughts; his memories came back, all at once. The time he was teased for being blind by a trash picker in Rek City, he had wanted to kill the fool, but he couldn’t even remember where to look for him. Then the time when he had wanted a horse of his own, after learning a neighbor’s son had been given one for his birthday, and the empty feeling that followed when his father told him they couldn’t afford another horse for him. That thought gnawed at him. Plus a host of other memories that had dragged his confidence through the mud. I must remain calm, this is the challenge.
Marella and Lager disappeared leaving him alone. He stood at the base of the ledge again. But this time it was not the proud image of Earl Jonas Rek but an egg, a silver egg. A crack formed on its surface before a large scaly creature uncoiled itself from within. Two leathery wings stretched out before a serpent’s silver head rose, its red tongue darting in and out at Fabian. “The Harbinger of Negation sees you boy!” it said. But before Fabian could act the creature was on him, knocking him down with its tail. The power of the Spirit armor deflected the impact and Fabian regrouped, but the Harbinger wasn’t finished. It spat an acidic fume at Fabian, who felt it burn through his helm, sting his face. “This isn’t real,” he called out. It’s like the skeletal image of Starspeed and my parents inside the Bronze Door. Only specters. “This isn’t real!” he repeated, this time loud enough to cause the air around him to ripple like the water of a great lake being pounded by heavy rain.
The Harbinger took notice, hissed once more, and then curled back into its egg before it turned to ashes.
After that, Fabian awoke.
Fourteen
“Glad to see you still in one piece, Ram.”
The Silver Door had deposited him back where they had started before he’d located it within his helm. It started closing behind them before its outline shined brightly one last time, then, it disappeared. “So am I Lager; but did either of you see what I experienced inside the Door after we parted ways with Earl Rek?”
They both shook their heads. “Should we have?” Marella asked.
“Not really,” Fabian said. “But I believe I owe all three of you an apology for how I acted.”
“Forget it,” Marella said, “we know you didn’t mean it.”
They resumed their trek up the cliff. It was then that Fabian started hearing a faint rumbling sound approaching from behind; it was getting closer. “You both hear that noise?” he asked. Both Marella and Lager looked at him as if they didn’t. Even Matilda’s sharp ears couldn’t pick up the nose, whatever it was.
They found the Black Road and pressed on.
***
He and his Death Knights were almost upon the invaders; Zoron could smell them. It was an oily scent that humans produced.
“Up ahead,” said Vow, one of his charges. Three humans on horseback, and one furry four-legged creature. Zoron smiled, the muscles under his skin stretching across his face like old leather. They all drew their weapons and readied their shields.
***
Now Fabian knew something was wrong. He heard the fierce clomping of hooves as their sound echoed like explosions. “You hear that, now?” Fabian said.
“I hear it,” Lager said.
“As do I,” Marella added. “If you like Hero Fabian, I could hide and surprise whatever it is, if they turn out to be hostile.”
“No,” Fabian ordered. “We can’t outrun them, so we make our stand together, no more solo work Marella, not like Diamond Town when you snuck up on those mercenaries.”
At first he thought Marella would protest, but then she nodded her head. “What do you have it mind?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Lager said, “would be nice to know since they’re almost upon us.” He drew his pistol. “Look!”
Matilda barked as the sound was unending, like a huge black storm cloud it rumbled toward them. Fabian saw something red pulse before it came at them like a rotating wheel on fire, his eyesight distinguised it as a poleaxe.
Without thinking an energy wall formed around their rearguard deflecting the ominous pole-axe. It emitted red light sparks before bouncing off the wall. It picked itself up and attacked both flanks of Fabian and his friends, but could not get through.
The black cloud cleared and a group of horsemen appeared. Well, not quite human but they were humanoid in shape at least. They wore skull-shaped helms and strange plated armor with animal skin capes that fluttered behind them like banners. One carried a standard in its gauntleted hand, a red-eyed skull on a black field, the sigil of the Blood Reeper.
“The Death Knights!” Marella said.
“Those were the guys you went looking for?” Lager asked. “Geez, now I know why your country wanted intelligence on them, they look like a bunch of nasty mothers!”
“Surrender yourselves to the Knights of the Dead table!” one of the Death Knights called out. “Reject our overture and face a painful death!”
Fabian felt the strain of the wall he’d created. Was it coming from him? Or the Spirit Stone armor? He didn’t even have to think up the wall and it had appeared. “We can’t sit here forever, soaking up their attacks,” he said before turning his head toward Lager. The Death Knights continued their vicious assault using their fearsome magical weapons: swords, langdabeve, dirk, mace and war-scythe. Tears began appearing in the energy wall; it retracted and coiled around them. “Lager!”
“Alright, Ram,” he said, “last one, after this I’ve no more explosives.”
Marella looked at him and the strange oval object in his hand. “What is that?”
“Flash grenade,” he replied, “same thing we used to save your hide girly. I usually wouldn’t use it in close quarters but we’ve got to break this stalemate.” Another tear opened in the coil and a langdabeve, grazed the stop rib of Fabian’s armor. Lager tossed the grenade through the tear and two ticks later it exploded. The wall withstood the
shockwave yet when the dust settled the Death knights were gone.
II
“Now you see why my country sent me to the Darklands to gather information on the Death Knights?” Marella said.
“I’m more interested on how you were able to form that shield, Ram.”
Fabian remained silent as they trudged on, traversing a chasm path carved into a rocky cliff. Truth is, there were many unanswered questions about his Spirit armor, but now was not the time to discuss it. “Nice of you to help out, Marella,” Lager said. “While me and Ram were sweating it out, you sat on your butt and watched.”
“As I recall Earthman, Hero Fabian and you were handling the Death Knights quite well.”
“Enough arguing,” Fabian said, eager to learn more about the Death Knights, he motioned for Marella to ride up beside him. She urged her horse forward as they followed the Black Road up the cliff’s twisting path toward Bone Keep. “Tell me what you know about these Death Knights, Marella.”
“I can tell you years ago, they were once a team of commandos sent from the Southern Empire to assassinate the Blood Reeper. As a highly-skilled force they were nearly successful, but they underestimated the Blood Reeper’s arcane magical abilities and paid the price. The Reeper took their souls, and transformed them into his dark assassin. They became his elite guard, neutralizing any outside threat to Bone Keep. They’re also known as the Knights of the Dead Table.”
Lager did not look pleased. “Great…and now they’re after us.”
“If it wasn’t for Hero Fabian’s Spirit armor, we’d most likely be dead,” she added.
“Hey my Flash grenade helped too!” Lager complained.
A sheepish smile dotted Marella’s lips. “Perhaps Earthman. But you can rest assured that they’ll be back.”
“We’ll be ready,” Fabian said.
***
That night they made camp inside a large cave burrowed into the side of the cliff. Above them loomed Bone Keep, an ominous rock skull carved into the peak of the cliff. It strained Fabian’s neck to look at it from their location, so Lager climbed a section of the rocky cliff wall above the cave with special field gloves and used Tildon’s gold binoculars to get a closer look at the Reeper’s domain.
