The Legacy of Tirlannon: The Freedom Fighter

by Daniel Gelinske

  Daecrynn’s vision blurred again, only to find himself amidst a circle of twelve Taergeni. Behind them, the familiar Ki’ronyx banner draped the far wall.

  “The Cirethians have elected a dictator, without an emergency, artificial or otherwise. It matters not how charismatic the philosopher Nashanti is, how much he has charmed many of us, and all of his own people, the truth is evident,” Alende Linean pleaded, looking to the others of the Kestiel’s Council.

  “His complete rule over the military forces of Cireth is something we certainly should prepare for. WE can forge a defense that will protect this nation, but there is the problem of Andulas. It would be diplomatic suicide to simply expel them from Andulas, as they played a key role in the building of the University City,” Meldehan Tuvitor said.

  Daecrynn paused, seeing his father in the vision.

  Everything blurred again, and Kadaam Nashanti’s form took shape, sitting at a desk, scribbling madly as two ghost-white figures with obsidian black eyes watched over him.

  Principles of Rulership over the Unevolved

  Exploit the mythology of the primitives. Use your civilized advantage, and declare yourselves gods, and them as mere mortals. They shall follow your edicts in zeal as divine dogma, and you shall control them completely.

  Explain your technology as magical, the powers of your divine immortality and they shall fear your wrath, and worship you completely.

  Daecrynn’s stomach bound itself into knots. He watched as this madman had changed the course of a once-enlightened Cireth to the terrifying madness he observed through Terei’s eye.

  He watched as a group of ten diplomats were executed in Kith, and a hundred Taergeni visitors in Kith were brutally killed, within a year of Kadaam’s coronation as Lord Pharaoh of the Imperium. He ordered his own scientists abroad in Andulas to burn the University City’s library, and on that that day they were expelled on the order of Alende Linean, then Kestiel of Tarligean.

  A list of the archives burned included a set of books called, “The Helix of Life” and “The Chaos Factor.” Many others were ordered burned, but were spirited away to Li’istrani, and the library beneath Andriel’s Royal Palace. Andulas was destroyed by Cirethian naval artillery in a terrible battle shortly after.

  XXXI.

  The Wilting Daffodil

  After another month of training, Daecrynn and Nadali prepared their satchels for a long hike to one of seven landmarks in Tarligean, unknown to them at this point, in their chamber as the first of Li’istrani’s alien suns rose, and the sky turned from black to a lavender tone.

  “And I thought my Rite of Passage was bizarre,” Daecrynn quipped.

  Nadali misused one of her teeth to untangle the leather strands that fastened a pouch closed. Still trying to pry apart the knot, she quipped. “Nevermind the dead of Cassadina trying to engage in thoughtful discourse along the way.”

  “I sure hope we don’t have to take that path on the way back,” Daecrynn muttered, lacing up his second pair of boots.

  “We’ll walk back to the last landmark, and wait for the next path to be shone if that happens,” Nadali swore.

  “I’m not entirely sure it works that way,’ d’nani,” Daecrynn countered.

  “Then we shall walk back from Li’istrani,” Nadali sustained, glaring playfully at Daecrynn.

  From behind the doorway, a voice rang. “I have some old manuscripts to decipher,” Rayelle said through the door. “And you have a war to fight. Don’t tarry.”

  “We’re almost out the door already, Lady Anda’raén,’ Daecrynn replied.

  “Ha!” Nadali chirped as she loosed the knot that bound her pouch shut.

  Daecrynn stood, readied his scabbard, and slung his satchel over his shoulder, behind his quiver. He patted his belt pouch, and took Nadali’s hand, grasping gently. Nadali slipped her belt pouch in its place with her other hand, smiling at Daecrynn.

  “Shall we?” Nadali queried.

  “We shall,” Daecrynn answered.

  The sky shifted slowly from lavender to blue as the second and third suns rose. Daecrynn stopped and picked a white daffodil, its petals vaguely wilting. “The spring is near its end here,” Daecrynn observed.

  “And Winter is nearing its end at home,” Nadali replied.

  XXXII.

  Spring's Dawn

  From Kynder’s Ledge, a tall wooded cliff overlooking the lost city of Andriel from the west, one had a vantage point higher than the hill the city was built on, even to the abandoned port of Tola’nei beneath the city. In the air was the scent of the first blossoms of the spring, the fragrance of the first Terestel and Wolfwood blooms.

  Through a pair of wizard’s spectacles, an apparatus that stacked lenses to allow for a closer view, Daecrynn peered into the city.

  From the ledge, it looked as if Andriel were either never occupied, or completely abandoned after the war. Some of the streets and buildings were overgrown with kudzu thickets.

  “Do you see any sign of enemy activity, Milord?” General Tiardan asked.

  “None. Not a thing. Nothing, whatsoever,” Daecrynn replied, passing the spectacles back to the general.

  “I don’t like this,” Nadali muttered.

  “Maybe it’s a trap,” Daecrynn speculated. “We know of the devices that Cirethians use to watch remotely. We also know of their ability to fly swiftly over long distances. Perhaps you could send in scouts?”

  “I will send two, Sire. There is an evacuation passage on the southeastern side of the city according to our maps. That one leads directly to the Council Hall on the south side of the surface. The entrance should be at the base of the hill, obscured by kudzu ivy,” Tiardan proposed.

  Daecrynn nodded. Tiardan turned to the command team adjacent to him, and gave instruction.

  Upon the high vantage point, the morning light illuminating through the clouds cast a dim glow upon the dark blue Nali Bay, which flowed out into the Sea of Lepitua. In the distance, the thunder churned and rolled slowly.

  Arakil Telarya, a rough elf with long black hair in many thin braids tied behind his head with a black strip of leather, and two hawk feathers entwined among the braids stood ready. His sword was a short j’haene blade with a deadly sharp tip, crafted of fine dwarven steel, etched with seven runes, Taergeni runes symbolic of the generations of his ancestry. He was a Tuitari wood-elf, and one of the elite of Tiardan’s forces.

  Nimbly, he quickly rappelled off the edge of Kynder’s Ledge, and strode over a crossing in the Nali. Just under the majestic white Nali Bridge that spanned the Thanna Rhia’tis, the Starlight Canyon in the Taergeni tongue, he moved around to the other side, and vanished out of sight into the brush along the southern edge of the abandoned city across the canyon.

  He weaved through the brush on the outside of the south wall as a gray fox stealthily yet swiftly stalked its prey. He stood by an amassing of kudzu, sword in hand. He swiftly made two surgical strikes against a couple branches, and vanished into the overgrowth. He peered down a long corridor; a passageway obscured by the thick brush on the bottom of the south wall, cut into the side of the hill upon which Andriel was built. Yellowing marble lined the walls, with glorious artworks depicting an ancient past doomed to be forgotten, destined to be remembered, inlaid under a clear layer of marble. As Daecrynn watched, observing through the Eye of Terei, he remembered this passage as the one where he was carried out of before the black day when Cassadina claimed the lives of most of Tarligean’s warriors.

  Daecrynn’s sword sang slightly. As his thoughts returned to where he stood on Kynder’s Ledge, the sword’s song ceased. As he focused back on the scout, the song began again.

  Arakil was in danger.

  “Tiardan, prepare a squadron to move into the southeast entrance. Something is going on in there, and our scout may need assistance. Be discreet,” Daecrynn ordered.

  “Yes milord,” Tiardan nodded.

  The general spoke to two captains. The captains swiftly ran back into the
forest, where the Tuitari Second Rangers were prepared, with the First Infantry to strike whatever may be awakened in the sleeping city.

  Daecrynn felt a tug within his mind, drawn back into Terei’s Eye.

  Arakil snuck along the left wall of the passage. Above him was an inscription in Fen’yi runes.

  ‘Beware the Shadow-kin, the corrupted ones who walk among…’

  The rest of the inscription was obscured by dried blood. Arakil gripped his j’haene tightly in his hand. Droplets of sweat condensed on his forehead, and dripped down over his cheeks. The silence was overbearing. He treaded slowly. A large creaking noise broke the silence, followed by a cacophony of crashes with a metallic sound. Arakil clenched his teeth, and turned around the corner.

  A mammoth figure of blackened stone loomed over him menacingly, with great bat-like wings. It had eyes of glowing yellow gold. It wore gauntlets with the hooked ankh of Cireth, in a dark red copper color embedded into the leather. Its skin was a hideous black, mottled in pustules and boils, and it had tall horns. It lurched, as it was too tall to stand erect in this hall made for elven stature. It made a screech that sounded like a mountain of iron being shredded to pieces. Arakil’s teeth cracked in his mouth. He lunged toward the beast with his sword, and with its left hand, the beast smashed him into a wall, taking the life from him.

  At the north side, the other scout had scaled the wall into the city. He headed toward the palace from where the shrill noise of the guardian beast had originated. He passed a dark gray stone building; overgrown in kudzu ivy, that looked similar to many other buildings in Andriel. A massive flock of black birds, akin to raven flew out from the building, forming a massive black shape in the sky above him and over Andriel. The emerald green eyes of the birds seemed to be jewels embedded in the strange raven’s face, but their wingspans were wider, much like a hawk, or a buzzard. As the light of sunrise crept over Andriel, the thick black cloud of thousands, perhaps millions of these birds obscured the city. The formation of them climbed up high, almost to cloud level, and could be seen from the distant seas of Lepitua to the north, or from the highest peaks of the Destriel Mountains.

  ‘An alarm,’ Daecrynn thought to himself.

  Tearing through the passage, the guardian beast raged out of the southeastern entrance to Andriel with the fury of all of Verduhn behind it, and the power of the fallen who reside there. From the forests, Taergeni soldiers in leather field armor and shortswords positioned themselves for an assault. In the high trees of the forest, archers readied their bows. Beneath the canopy, swords were readied.

  A single arrow, luminous with a blue-green flame came from the high wood, over the head of the beast. The infantry moved first, charging the beast from several sides. Overhead, the black cloud of birds hovered, blotting out the light of the morning sun. Multitudes of elves were thrown about by the beast; its arms and wings plowed through them with malign force.

  Daecrynn and Nadali mounted their horses atop the ledge. Daecrynn readied his horseman’s mace. He led the charge with Nadali and a cavalry of seven Taergeni warriors. They ran past the Starlight Circle, toward the white Nali Bridge. As they crossed the Nali Bridge, the unholy black cloud of birds parted. To V-shaped aircraft came through the opening in the sky, and swooped over the First Infantry. The beast looked upward, and wailed into the cloud of crows. The birds began to fly over the sea, revealing the blue of the early spring sky. Daecrynn charged the beast, twirling his mace. Nadali charged with driven fury. The soldiers stepped back, as Daecrynn and Nadali caught the beast on both sides, striking it at once with their mace. The beast was stricken back, and lost its footing. As it fell, it swiped Daecrynn with its left wing, knocking him from his horse into the mud. Oro’quiel sang loudly.

  Nadali prepared another pass. Daecrynn stood up, still holding his mace tightly in his left hand, and Oro’quiel in his right. The beast lunged for him, and he stepped back. It swung for him with its mammoth arm, and Daecrynn feinted, reaching in for a stab. The sword sparked as he drove it into the side of the creature. As it flinched, he wailed on it with is mace. Nadali charged, slamming it hard on its head with her mace. The blunt strike caused the creature’s neck to snap, and its head to disengage from its body. It rolled down the hill to be intercepted by a Field Sergeant’s hands. The beast fell lifelessly into the muddy grass.

  In the sky, the gwyulni circled over the army, who moved back into the woods for cover as fire-globes were launched from above, balls full of a fuel that ignited upon impact, burning many of the soldiers alive. Daecrynn followed their lead after exchanging glances with Nadali. From the canopy, the archers sent volley after volley of kri’ade, arrows made from glowing crystals mined deep underground. They had little effect on the Cirethian battle armor.

  Daecrynn sheltered himself behind the trunk of an Icania tree and remained as Oro’quiel’s song faded. He peered into the distance with his clairvoyance, and spied something the Cirethians didn’t expect. Someone else who saw the Signal of the Raven over Andriel

  Far out into the Sea of Lepitua, a mighty ship sailed, with three masts, six sails, and the Ki’ronyx flying over its highest mast.

  Tarligean still had a navy.

  XXXIII.

  Insurrection

  In the glass archway that separated the Thoth’s Palace from the Chamber of Government in Kith, an older, gaunt man with a thin silvery beard stood over a promenade, looking southward into the heart of Kith’s downtown region. Not looking forward to the high orichalcum towers, but toward a large white marble fountain that stood many stories tall, though dwarfed by the high towers of the city.

  “That fountain was here before Nashanti had become our guide. That fountain was there before the Codex was put into place,” he mused beneath his breath. “What were Meldehan’s words a century ago when he demanded our surrender, as the armies of Tarligean marched through this city and their navy blockaded every canal into the city? What did he call us? Right. The Mad Builders.”

  He gazed up upon the glistening orange metal towers and into the brown haze above them.

  “He was right,” the man sighed. “We are ruining everything we touch.”

  He hung his head lowly as he walked east, toward Ia Kendai. Two bald drones stood at attention as he passed, placed on each side of the hallway.

  “Hail Lord Osiris!” they droned in unison, with a metallic tone.

  He ignored them, walking in shame. At the end of the walkway was a long spiral staircase, covered in gleaming white marble.

  “So little remains of Cireth’s true face. So little civilization, suffocated in this decadence,” he thought aloud as he climbed up the stairs, ignoring the lift to his floor.

  He walked to the end of the hall toward his office. The ceiling was trimmed in pure gold, etched with hieroglyphics. At the center of the office was a white marble desk, standing upon a frost blue-white carpet. In his seat, facing away from him out the window on the far end of the office was a bald man with pallid white skin.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Da’at Set sang, standing up out of Osiris’ chair. “Don’t you think it’s time for a change, Lord Osiris?”

  “Don’t you have somebody to torture, Lord Set?” Osiris spat disdainfully.

  “I’ve relieved the prison chambers of dead weight,” Da’at Set replied. “But that is neither here nor there. I asked if you believe it is time for a change. Do you?”

  “We cannot turn back the clock, I’m afraid. Too much damage has already been done. Why do you care?” Osiris retorted. “You of all people have been more than happy to do the Thoth’s dirty work.”

  “Perhaps you cannot,” Set said as he turned around to face Osiris. “You can certainly speed it forward, though.”

  “To its destruction?” Osiris spat. “I have heard unspeakable things about the abominations you’ve spawned in your laboratories and secret chambers!”

  “It is as I thought,” Set smiled. “You will always cling to the past. This is why you are alre
ady dead.”

  “I don’t have to take this from you! Guards,” Osiris shouted as he turned around. A fine dart, like a steel needle embedded itself into the side of his neck. Osiris turned back to Set.

  “The guards are taking orders from the Laboratory now,” Set informed. “They will not assist you.”

  Osiris fell to his knees, then face forward.

  Swiftly, two hairless men entered the room. They were drones, but men with silver eyes like Da'at Set's. Adorned in the black robes of the Caretaker and Keeper of the Dead, they carried a large silver casket. Quickly, Osiris' body was lifted and carefully placed in the casket.

  "All is prepared at the Laboratory, Lord Set," a messenger drone said, as he entered the room.

  Da'at Set nodded, and turned, looking out the window towards the sprawl of eastern Kith.