Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  “Men often wait until it is too late—you must not wait.” Valam remembered those words distinctly. After many long months of planning, they had finally departed. Even many of the soldiers who had volunteered doubted the reality of the distant war. The many weeks aboard the ships, however, had somehow changed their views. They began to realize with certainty the truth of their situation. They could not back out now, and this knowledge cleared their minds. The war existed, if only in their thoughts.

  Valam whispered a prayer to the Father. The storm that had swept them into the rocks hopefully had spared the others. Valam was confident that the second group had entirely missed the storm, but the first group that followed their guidance could easily have been lost. Nonetheless, he continued saying his silent prayer for a moment longer.

  Seth moved alongside Valam and Evgej. “What do you think about my homeland?” he asked pointedly, striving to break the glum moods of his companions.

  “It appears much the same as the lands of the kingdom.”

  “More like the grassy foothills of South Province I’d say.”

  “On the morrow, we should reach the Clarwater; there I am sure you will see vast differences.”

  Chapter Nine

  Adrina followed the giant, Amir, and the one she had once known, whom Amir had dubbed as “Little One,” as she had told none her name, from the sewers under Imtal. She still could not hold back the tears. She no longer cried for the ones she thought lost in the battle in the central square; now her sorrow was for the one who had told her with such bitterness that she had no name, no past and was nothing. She cried for a friend lost. She cried for Galan.

  The two of them had rescued her from the massacre on the square. Only recently Adrina had learned that she was the object of the assassins’ quest. They had been sent to kill her, but she did not understand why. Most of the upper officials of the Great Kingdom had been on the square, why her? Amir had assured her that one called Noman would explain everything to her when they joined his group, but for the time being she muddled over that single question and thoughts of a time not long ago, times of happiness inside the palace proper. She longed for Seth and Valam to return to her, and most of all she wanted to see Galan whole once more. She wished she could share Galan’s burden.

  Still, they wandered through the maze of underground tunnels. Adrina had no idea where she was, but apparently Amir did. He continued to lead them, turning in many directions without a moment’s hesitation. After many hours of traversing the damp, poorly lit tunnels, they stopped. Adrina was near exhaustion, perspiration dripped heavily from her forehead. “Good, we have stopped,” said Adrina. No one responded.

  They had come to a large chamber that was semi-lit from above. Water could be heard dripping from the ceiling into the pool of water on the tunnel floor. Adrina was about to say something else, when a gentle hand touched her lips and she stopped.

  Amir stood poised in front of Adrina and the Little One, his right hand lightly fingering the two-handed sword in his sheath. In less than one beat of Adrina’s heart, Amir drew his sword. Instantly a bright blue-white light filled the room. Amir’s sword rested on the neck of a darkly tanned man clad in black.

  The man slowly withdrew the hood from over his head. Amir said smartly as he re-sheathed his sword, “I knew it was you Ayrian. I could smell your presence two tunnels away. But I had to be sure.”

  Ayrian tried to hold back a laugh, but could not, “It is a wonder you didn’t lob my head off.”

  “Yes, I could have blamed it on the light.”

  “Or lack thereof, my friend.”

  Adrina didn’t understand the pun. The others, however, had understood it; even Galan almost broke a smile. Amir turned around to introduce Ayrian to Adrina.

  “Princess Adrina Alder, I would like to introduce Ayrian, Eagle Lord of the Gray Clan.”

  “Eagle Lord?”

  “Princess,” said Ayrian as he reached out and kissed Adrina’s hand. Adrina was shocked by Ayrian’s appearance. At first she thought he wore a costume of feathers since the light in the chamber was shadowy, but Ayrian assured her the talons and feathers were indeed real.

  “Come, the others await your arrival,” said Ayrian as he retreated down a tunnel. The tunnel came to a dead end at a blank wall of stone. Ayrian took the hilt of his sword and rapped heavily on the wall. A moment later the sound seemed to echo and Ayrian disappeared through the wall. The others soon followed with a bewildered Adrina being led by Amir.

  A short, withered-looking man who Adrina recognized immediately as Xith stood on the other side of the wall. His face was clenched in strain. His outstretched hands were engaged in a frenzy of movement. He moaned a sigh of relief when the last of the group stood in the chamber. Standing beside the anguished man stood a younger man, as amazed at the feat as Adrina had been.

  Adrina realized that Xith was performing magic, which was expressly forbidden. All magic was evil. Another stepped from the shadows and approached Adrina. “No! You are quite wrong there, princess. It is neither wrong, nor evil, for without its existence all would be lost.”

  “How did you—but the teachings—! That is why darkness has entered the kingdom!”

  “I am Noman,” said the gray-looking gentleman. “We have waited a long time for you and the others.” His voice was weak on the last words. In his mind he thought, “Now there are three, and seven.”

  “Do not fear us,” said Xith. Adrina looked to the squat man outfitted in brown robes. “We could not allow the others to take you. We need you. Together with the others, you are the key, the next generation of hope and light in a world succumbing to darkness.”

  Adrina was again shocked; she had not heard the last part of Xith’s statement, only the talk of hope and light.

  “There is no light in darkness,” disagreed Adrina.

  The one whom Adrina had known by another name took her hand and nodded her head indicating yes.

  “There is always light,” she whispered.

  “Do not worry about that,” Noman said, subjecting Adrina to the soothing guiles of the voice. “Come here, my child, you are safe now. No harm will befall you in our care.”

  Noman reached out and took her other hand.

  “Once it is safe, we will take you home; until that time you will remain in our care. Come, there are others you should meet. Xith, Amir, Ayrian—” called out Noman.

  “But the darkness,” protested Adrina.

  “The darkness came of its own accord. It was time—the time for an ending of the old and a beginning for the new.”

  “End? Beginning?”

  “In time you will understand the nature of what takes place.”

  “You are the one that—”

  “Yes,” answered Noman; for an instant, he thought Adrina recalled their previous meeting. He had told her too much. As he watched her eyes, her features, and her thoughts, he knew she didn’t remember and was relieved. A flicker of thought passed before his eyes, images he had taken from Adrina.

  Noman began to introduce his other companions. The short elder, Xith, last of the Watchers; Vilmos, the sandy-haired youth who appeared somehow older than the boy she had first met on the way to Alderan; and Nijal, of Solntse. Noman stopped Adrina’s questions about Vilmos and further attempts at conversation by insisting they must leave. “I will not go!” yelled Adrina, “I demand to know what is happening. My place is in the palace!”

  “Not if you are killed it isn’t! We have no time. Come!”

  Adrina held her ground. She with all her kindness and tenderness had one fault: she liked to get her own way. At times her youthfulness showed clearly, especially in her temper.

  “Where are we?”

  “We are in the caves of the Braddabaggon, just outside the city.”

  “But how? We were just in the sewers beneath the city.”

  “Those were the ancient catacombs beneath the sewers that we were in,” corrected Amir.

  “What cata
combs?”

  “Come, princess, we can talk about this at a later time.”

  Adrina still held her ground, a belligerent look steeling her features. Amir picked Adrina up, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her away. The air in the chamber, though deadly still, suddenly became cool. Amir placed Adrina back on her feet and an instant later darkness seemed to sweep into the room from an adjacent tunnel.

  A brilliant blue light burst aglow in the room. The ball of light danced between Xith’s fingers, fury clearly showing on his face. Vilmos stood next to Xith, with the same blue light dancing in his hand. Sounds of movement filled the air.

  Darkly clad figures poured into the chamber from all sides. Amir charged into their midst. His deadly sword wildly wrought havoc among them. With one sweep of his blade, two lay beneath his feet, the last sound of their lives one syllable of a cry to battle.

  Nijal followed Amir’s gesture and charged. His skill with his weapon could not match the lighting speed and legendary skill of Amir, but he also dealt punishment to the enemy. In endless numbers the attackers poured into the room.

  Ayrian crouched low to the ground. Rapidly, his form was transfixed. With one powerful beat of his mighty wings he shot into the tunnel. His form was slightly different from usual. Here in the tunnels he could not use his immense form. This slightly touched his pride, as one of the truly beautiful things about his kind was their overwhelming power in giant form. For now, he settled on a much smaller size. He stalked the enemy from above. His agility more than compensated for the restriction of the small space. With his razor-sharp talons he tore the foe apart.

  Together, Xith and Vilmos unleashed their combined energy. Smoke and flames filled the second tunnel. Pitiful cries of agony rolled into the chamber. The smell of burning flesh became pungent, permeating the air all around them. Vilmos and Xith set their minds to the task again, clearing their centers and focusing the energies they felt there. They stole power from the very air and rock around them, devouring it and then re-shaping it to their whims.

  Noman had sensed the imminent attack, but he thought they would have more time to escape. He cursed his shortsightedness. An image filled his mind. “No!” he cried. He could not counter it completely. He turned around, but it was too late. Galan, who had been standing towards the front of the room read his thoughts and leapt on top of Adrina, shielding the girl with her own body.

  A tongue of crimson flames streamed into the room. Vilmos and Xith were in the direct path of the fire. Xith tried to shout a warning to Vilmos, but the red and blue flames met and in a swirl of raging energy they burst outward. The resulting explosion rocked the room, and the impact collapsed the ceiling of the second tunnel, which in turn caused the ceiling of the chamber they were in to give.

  The assailants sought to seal them all in the chamber and surged forward over the bodies of their fallen comrades. The blast had knocked Nijal flat on his face. Even Amir had been shaken by the blast. Amir helped his companion right himself, narrowly blocking a crippling blow. Amir thrust his sword full into the attacker. His blade sank deep and the rogue crumpled lifeless to the ground, the rogue’s sword lightly glancing Amir’s arm as he went down. Desperately Amir and Nijal plunged full force into the tunnel.

  Ayrian was midway down the tunnel when the explosion hit. His animal instincts were alert. He sensed the grave danger. At once he took the giant form. He had no room to fly and fell heavily to the tunnel floor, crushing several foes beneath him with his talons. The wide-eyed assailants stopped the attack on him as they stared at him in awe. They were unsure whether to attack or retreat. Ayrian took the chance and with beak and talon ripped into the two who stood before him. The pieces of their bodies dropped about him.

  Wearily, Noman regained his feet. He shook his aching head. Xith and Vilmos lay unconscious near him. In the instant that Noman realized he could not stop the explosion, he built up all the energy he could gather before it was too late. He cast it outward as a single wall of force into the explosion, but the shock wave was not overcome.

  Quickly, he leaned down, grabbed Xith and Vilmos by their tunics, and began to pull them from the room. The room slowly crumbled behind them. He reached safety just as the room totally caved in. “Oh, Father!” he sighed painfully, looking back into the room. It was buried in rubble.

  Sweat streamed down Nijal’s face. He was near exhaustion, but he still fought on. His reactions became slower with each blow and block. His only inspiration was the seemingly endless strength of the giant beside him. As the two hacked their way down the corridor, several times Amir blocked blows Nijal could no longer defend against.

  The number of assassins replacing their fallen comrades was decreasing. Their morale was being dealt a staggering blow. For each that charged into the tunnel two of his companions fell; that is, if they could make it past Ayrian. So far, none of the replacements had; Ayrian was extremely enraged.

  Slowly the assailants began to retreat; those trapped between Amir, Nijal and Ayrian were easily dispatched. Soon the last one fell and Nijal, with Amir’s aid, staggered back down the tunnel, crawling through the debris in the chamber toward the others. Ayrian changed back to his humanoid form and joined them. They found Noman looking sadly into a pile of debris. Xith and Vilmos were unconscious on the floor beside him.

  Amir knelt next to his master and stared into Noman’s eyes. Ever since he had joined Noman in the City of the Sky, Amir had striven to emulate Noman. Noman rarely showed emotions and was never at a loss for words. The one thing Amir could always count on was Noman’s stability; his natural charisma always issued forth, strength, wisdom, and inner peace being his main qualities. Amir had lived with Noman over 600 years. He had never known Noman to know doubt or fear, but he did now.

  Amir leaned close to Noman and whispered into his ear. “Look inside of you. What do you see? Can you find your center? Look outward; do you not see the world? Caress it in your hands Shape it. Become one with it. Now can you not see your true enemy?” Amir repeated one of the basic lessons Noman taught him long, long ago. “One’s true enemy is himself. First, you must conquer your own spirit.”

  The words infuriated Noman. A multitude of thoughts spun through his mind. He sorted them out and understood. “Quickly!” he yelled, “We must try to clear the debris. There may yet be time.”

  Amir and Ayrian carried Xith and Vilmos down to the middle of the hall so they would be out of the way. “Go, Nijal. Someone must watch the tunnel entrance,” said Amir kindly. Nijal did not argue. He was too tired to argue. He didn’t know if he could defend them from further attacks though he would try if need be. Sword in hand, he retreated down the corridor.

  Noman stood and looked deep into the rubble. His eyes were closed, and he was deep in a trance. He searched with his mind. His eyes jumped wide open, his heart pumped rapidly with elation. He had found them. The words exploded from his lips: “One lives!”

  Noman slowly felt the energy returning to him. He let it build. “Begin!” Amir and Ayrian began pulling the stone from the pile of debris. Noman released his energy in a wave. While the two tunneled, he held the stones around them from further collapse. Never again would Noman forget his sacred vow; he was guardian of the children. He existed for this single purpose.

  It was Amir who uncovered the last rocks covering the Little One’s body. He could not look at her. He wanted to remember her radiant beauty as it had been. Her body had been crushed brutally beneath the weight of the rocks. Solemnly he handed her to Ayrian behind him.

  Amir gathered Adrina into his arms and crawled from the tunnel. Adrina appeared unscathed by the rocks; her body had been mostly shielded beneath the other. Noman’s first thoughts were of Adrina. He had sensed her life force strongly beneath the rubble. Amir still held her gently in his arms, unsure if he should place her on the ground. Noman assured him it was all right.

  “Adrina,” called Noman loudly, “can you hear me?” He did not expect a response but he wanted to b
e sure before he reset her broken bones. Noman re-checked her injuries; her left hand was severely damaged and her right leg was broken, but she would survive. A part of him rejoiced.

  Now he could turn his attentions to the other. He could still feel the will within her. It grew weaker and weaker. He could not do anything to save her, but he could ease her suffering. Her spirit fought to survive, to linger a second more. She was not yet ready to pass, but she was losing the fight.

  Noman surged his will into the center of her dwindling will. He knew what her spirit fought for. He would take the risk and tell her. “She is Alive!” he yelled into her mind. He retreated his will from her. A solitary emotion reached him as her spirit passed to rest with the Great-Father— happiness, extreme happiness.

  Chapter Ten

  With the arrival of evening the air above decks grew cool, causing Seth, Valam, Evgej, and Liyan to retreat below decks. Liyan and Seth began a discussion about the progression of the enemy campaign, breaking any chance of a change of moods.

  “King Mark has not yet crossed the Crags?”

  “The people of the wood, his people, and the River Elves have joined as one. The Silver folk have all but succumbed. He has taken Winthall and Sumer. Those that remain have fled Tamer. Some gather near the Sea of Edengar. Others take refuge in the Shadow Mountains.

  “The Valley folk joined him unwillingly after the fall of Hakdell. The port city of Elorendale is home to his reserve fleet. Our contacts say the masters of wood and stone and sail from all the West are building weapons of war there the likes of which have never before been seen in the land.”

  “And we have done nothing?”

  “We have offered all the aid we could, but it was not enough. The mountains are a boundary to both our forces. We cannot risk sending any more of our forces through the passes to those few of our allies that remain. We will need all our strength here. A few of those remaining in the west are in the process of retreating to us in the east. Most will stay; it is a matter of honor to remain and die in their homeland.”