by Isaac Hooke
“Should we strike?” Mauritania asked. Her eyes yet glowed, and her horns were in full bloom.
Malem was torn. Wendolin was dying. And yet they needed this witch.
“Release her!” Malem pleaded with Grendel. “You’ll kill each other!”
Grendel merely smiled the terrible smile of a woman who wasn’t breathing, and was happy to die.
Ziatrice, Malem sent. Try to use your dark magic to cancel her grip on Wendolin!
The night elf’s eyes emitted a dark mist, which flowed toward Wendolin. They spread apart, and intercepted the various tendrils of light that wrapped around the night elf, including the thick noose at her throat.
Ziatrice fed more and more of her power into that mist, so that Malem had to grant her stamina, taking it from the others that waited outside.
In moments, she’d instilled enough dark smears into the light so that the tendrils severed entirely, and Wendolin dropped free.
The tree elf landed on the floor and gasped frantically for air. The panic was still raw in her energy bundle, as if she still thought she was going to choke to death and not get enough air in time.
“Wendolin,” Malem said. “The witch.”
She glanced up, not understanding, her breathing so very ragged.
He fed her stamina, and sent calming vibes her way.
“Your noose!” he said, pointing at Grendel. “You’re killing her!”
Wendolin blinked in sudden understanding, and then the branches that held Grendel retracted. The witch began to breath steadily once more. She didn’t pant like Wendolin, however; Malem suspected the light magic had helped sustain her, despite the lack of oxygen.
While the branches had slid aside, they otherwise remained fully grown and in place, ready to strike if Grendel, or whatever possessed her, attacked again.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” Grendel said, the first time she had spoken since her eyes had begun that terrible glow. It was her voice, but deeper somehow. Demonic.
Like a female version of Banvil.
“We need your help!” Malem said between gritted teeth. “You are a Paragon? An agent of balance?”
“YES,” Grendel said.
“Release us,” Malem said. “And we can talk.”
“TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT,” Grendel said.
“There is a Balor in this realm,” he told her. “We need you to help us fight it.”
She cocked her head. “A Balor?” Her voice had become closer to normal, which made him believe he was finally getting through to her. The witch’s eyes still glowed a bright yellow. “You are possessed by a Balor. As is that one.” She nodded at Goldenthall, who was only just starting to regain consciousness. Her voice took on a cunning edge. “Should I banish this particular Balor?”
“No!” Malem said. “This Balor is helping us to preserve balance in this world. There is another. Actually, two others. Vorgon, and Denfidal. Vorgon has entered our realm, and hunts me, no doubt intending to destroy this world when the hunt is done. Meanwhile, Denfidal is using our world as a staging ground to gain territory in the Black Realm: the demon enters here, moves to an advantageous position, then returns to the Black Realm in order to defeat his foes. From what we can tell, Denfidal intends to hunt down all the remaining Balors, one by one, in this way.”
Grendel stared at him. “That is not good.”
“No,” he agreed. “It’s not.”
The streams of light that held him and the others in the air vanished, and the party members dropped to the wooden floor.
Malem no longer felt the burning pain that those glowing appendages had inflicted, but his ribs felt bruised nonetheless. Holding them, he pushed himself to his feet.
“How many Balors has Denfidal defeated?” the possessed woman asked. Her eyes still glowed a bright yellow.
“None so far,” Malem said.
“Then it’s not too late,” Grendel said.
“Well, Denfidal will probably have defeated at least one by the time we reach the demon,” Malem said.
Grendel nodded. “Then three Balors will fall before we are done. Vorgon, Denfidal, and whoever Denfidal slays before we arrive. This leaves nine. A dangerously low number—the remaining Balors will become stronger than ever. But it can’t be helped if what you say is true.”
“It is true,” Malem said.
“We shall see,” Grendel told him.
“So, you will help us?” Malem said.
“I offer my tentative agreement,” she said.
“Thank you,” Malem said. “Do you have a name, Paragon?”
“Corinne,” she replied.
“What happened to Grendel?” he pressed.
“She is still here,” Corinne said. “Though I have pushed her aside for the moment. She is my vessel, just as you, and that man, are the vessel of a Balor.” She nodded at Goldenthall, who sat stunned on the floor next to Wendolin. “I will journey with you, inside this vessel, remaining dormant for the most part. And when the time comes, I will siphon myself through her into this realm, taking my full form. I can do this only once, however, for the cost to me is great. I will be unable to enter your realm for many years thereafter, assuming this vessel survives. And if she dies in the process, then I may never return. So, as you might have guessed, it’s important that this effort is not wasted.”
“When you say ‘full form,’ you’re talking about the towering Paragon I saw in the nether realm?” Malem said. “A woman of light, the size of a Balor? She called herself, what was her name? Tempestria.”
“That is what I will become, yes,” she said. “A being of pure light capable of challenging a Balor. I will remain in that form for only a short time, so we must strike quickly when the time comes.”
“Can you summon no other Paragon?” Malem said. “Just yourself?”
“I am the only one with enough strength left to transcend worlds without a Light Pearl,” she said. “Once, many of us could do this. But as the Balors grew in power, we weakened. Also, we require a particular breed of light mage, such as my current vessel, one born with the gift to siphon more light through their bodies than is ordinarily possible. One who has also devoted a lifetime to the mastery of her craft. A Great Witch, as it were. Of which this one is the last.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Malem said. “So, what is a Light Pearl, exactly?”
Corinne nodded. “As we weakened, and the Great Witches died out, many of us began encapsulating our essences inside these objects—the Light Pearls—just in case we were needed once again to restore balance. The witch would summon us to this realm and then store our energy inside. When such a pearl was broken, we would return as if only just summoned. Though for a short time, of course.”
“I watched as one of these Light Pearls was destroyed,” Malem said. “By a woman wielding a crystal sword. She served Vorgon, or Denfidal, I’m not sure which.”
“Then the Paragon within is dead,” she said.
“Too bad,” Malem said.
“Yes,” Corinne said. “When I return, I will share the news, and we will grieve. There are ten still unaccounted for among my kind. Ten who still exist in this realm. Or there were. Now, given what you just told me, only nine.” Her head turned sideways slightly, as if she was contemplating the task of sharing that news, and not looking forward to it.
“Nine?” Malem said. “So that means there are at least as many Light Pearls here. I don’t suppose you know where we can find them?”
“I do not,” she replied.
He nodded. “All right. So it’s just you. I guess we’ll have to work with that. How are you going to kill Vorgon and Banvil?”
“I never said I was going to kill them,” Corinne said.
Mauritania spoke up. Her eyes had returned to normal, along with her horns. “But I thought you said, and I quote, ‘three Balors will fall before we are done. And that only nine Balors will be left, stronger than ever.”
“And three shall indeed fall,” Corinne said. “But
only one will die truly, at Denfidal’s hands in the Black Realm. Vorgon and Denfidal will be reduced, and it is that reduction which will boost the strength of the others. Eventually the pair will return to their former power, after many, many years, restoring the balance somewhat.”
“So you’re only going to kill them here?” Mauritania said. “And allow them to return to their native realm, just as Banvil and Vorgon did when they died?”
“Yes,” Corinne said. “But they will become a shadow of their former selves, mist living in a cave.”
“Yeah, but they’ll just return!” Mauritania said. “As Vorgon did. We have to journey to the Black Realm afterward and destroy their remnants!”
“No,” Corinne said. “That will affect the balance. And they will not return, not for many years. I believe only Denfidal has the power to revive a fallen Balor.”
“You believe,” Mauritania said. “So, you’re not sure.”
“I’m not,” Corinne admitted.
“Wait,” Ziatrice said. “You already admitted that one day, Vorgon and Denfidal will return to their former strength. It might not be now. It might not be within the next ten years. Maybe not even a hundred. But one day, they will return. And someone will have to deal with them again.”
Corinne shook her head. “As an agent of balance, I cannot advocate their death. Yes, perhaps, one day Vorgon might attempt to reenter this realm. Before the demon falls, I will try to close whatever doors it has opened in this realm. Just as Tempestria likely closed the doors in the nether realm he had taken for himself.”
“Yeah, we saw how well that worked,” Ziatrice said.
Corinne gazed at her. “Denfidal and other Balors had access to that realm, so they could have retrieved Vorgon. But no other Balors have access to this one, save Banvil, through you. Thus, if the doors are shut to Vorgon, then he will not return.”
Malem considered for a moment.
We have to kill them truly, Mauritania said in his head. No matter what this Paragon says. After she’s gone, we can journey to the Black Realm, and destroy them.
That’s an option, Malem said. But it’s too bad we don’t know how.
I think we’d only need light magic, Wendolin said. Given how dark and light magic seem to act, based on what we’ve seen.
There you go, Mauritania said. We’d only have to bring along Nemertes.
Yeah, except we can’t create a portal to the black realm big enough to fit the dragon.
Then we’ll find another light mage, somewhere, Mauritania pressed.
For now, we’ll concentrate on banishing them back to the Black Realm as remnants of their former selves, Malem sent. Maybe someday we’ll journey to the Black Realm to destroy them fully. We’ll see. I think it’s unnecessary. There’s a reason why the Paragons want them to live. It’s not a good idea to allow any one Balor too much power.
“So, do you want my help, given these terms, or do you not?” Corinne asked.
“That seems a reasonable compromise,” Malem replied. “So how are you going to kill the two Balors? Or are you going to materialize inside them, like Tempestria did when I hurled the Light Pearl into Vorgon’s mouth?”
“Unless you want to kill this vessel by allowing the Balor to devour her,” Corinne said. “I’d advise against that. Besides, such an act would only defeat one of the Balors, not both.”
“So what, you’re going to grapple with them?” Abigail asked.
“Grappling could work,” Corinne replied. “But there is also a chance I could be struck down, since I will not carry a weapon when I arrive. Denfidal wields a great halberd, and Vorgon an ax, if I recall. I will be defenseless.”
“Would it help if we got you a Balor’s blade?” Malem asked.
“That would certainly increase the odds of success,” she replied.
“Well then, I know precisely where we can get one,” Malem told her.
28
Malem rode Nemertes once more. The other six Metals flew with him, three per side. They traveled toward the plains of Atembor, located almost due south, where the armies of the former Alliance had faced off against the dark host of Vorgon and lost. It was there, in that former no man’s land, where Banvil had fallen and the demon’s sword lay.
Grendel was with them. She had squeezed in behind Wendolin on Nemertes’ back. The dragon saddle wasn’t really designed to fit three, so she sat slightly on the projecting part of the rear, where Malem had tied her in.
Below, Atembor soon came into view. He knew where the no man’s land resided immediately, because while grass and shrubs grew beyond the trenches on either side, no plants sprouted within. There, only the scattered bones of man and monster lay strewn across the land, a sign of the terrible fighting that had taken place.
Malem had never thought he would find himself engaged in the wars of men. Though human himself, he had always considered himself an outsider. But it was the women who had showed him his humanity. Even when he had become the Defiler, they were his beacon of hope, leading him back to the light. Without them, only darkness remained. If he had not met Abigail and the rest, he would still be running from Banvil, while Vorgon scoured the world.
Yes, I owe them everything.
Malem touched the amulet that he wore at his neck above his dragonscale armor. He wondered if it truly protected him from the Darkness. If it did, even if he failed to destroy Vorgon, that meant he’d never have to worry about the Dark hunting him again. Maybe even Vorgon itself would not be able to find him.
So far, the Dark had not come for him again, nor had the buzzing, that terrible precursor, entered his head. But that was probably because Vorgon had yet to recover from the previous summoning. So it remained to be seen whether the amulet actually worked.
He returned his gaze to the land below. At those skeletons… so many bones, glistening in the sun.
I wonder if the land will ever recover, Gwen sent. And if plants will grow here again.
I hope so, Wendolin said. It’s pretty terrible, to see what happened here. I can only imagine how bad the fighting became.
It got fairly desperate at times, Abigail said. We were outnumbered, and outmatched. We only lasted as long as we did because of some brilliant strategies put forth by my father, and the other generals.
I came up with some brilliant strategies myself, Malem said.
You’re talking about the hill giant rush to drawn out King Barrowfore of the dwarves? Abigail asked.
Exactly, he told her.
Wasn’t so brilliant, Ziatrice said. Considering Barrowfore didn’t yield. And Vorgon only replaced him when we were done. We lost many soldiers in that rush.
Too many lives were lost, Malem agreed. For too little gain. But the strategy itself was sound, and it would have worked, if you hadn’t killed the dwarf!
Oh, Ziatrice said. Yeah. Sorry about that. But in my defense, the king did punch me in the jaw. I mean, come on, it was an instinctive reaction to cut him in half.
Sure, we all instinctively cut people in half when they punch us in the jaw, Weyanna said.
I’d do it, too, Mauritania said.
There you go, Ziatrice said.
Except my reaction wouldn’t be instinctive, Mauritania said. I’d just be acting out of rage.
My own anger probably factored into my response, Ziatrice admitted.
The dragons continued south over that no man’s land for quite some time, until Malem spotted the tall blade in the distance, protruding well above the horizon.
There was something else accompanying that blade, however. A few other beings…
It looks like some dragons have moved in, Abigail sent.
Malem counted thirty in total. Black dragons. A couple circled above the sword. Most rested on the ground, where the bones of several monsters formed large piles around the blade. These monsters had probably been found roaming the plains, forced out of the Midweald by Malem’s own dark army, which itself hunted monsters for food.
There w
ere also gold coins and other treasures stacked near the bones. The beginnings of a dragon hoard, with the Balor’s blade the prize of the collection.
He reached out, and sensed them. There were no weak-willed dragons among them, however. There rarely were, among creatures of this high level.
Turn back, Malem said.
We’re not going to attack? Abigail asked.
We will, at some point, he said. But I want to plan some strategy, rather than barrel in head first.
He turned around and glanced over his shoulder to see if any of the dragons were pursuing them.
Do you think they spotted us? Wendolin asked.
If they did, they’re not following, Malem replied.
They recognize powerful foes when they see them, Gannet sent. And realize it’s probably not worth several of their numbers to defeat us. They look well fed. They’re not going to risk their lives trying to take down enemies that consider them food in return.
Eww, Gwen said. You wouldn’t actually eat another dragon, would you?
No, I suppose not, Gannet said. I never have. But I guess it depends on how hungry I was. If you were hungry, would you eat a gobling. Or a man?
No! she said.
Easy to say now, Gannet said. But wait until you haven’t had a meal in your belly for weeks, and tell me if you change your mind.
Everything begins to look like food when you’re starving, Weyanna agreed.
You should talk, Gwen said. I heard you used to eat men after seducing them. And you weren’t starving at that point, I take it?
Oh, no, I was, Weyanna said. I wouldn’t eat them unless I had the appetite.
But you had other food available, Gwen said. Yet you chose soldiers from the very men who had allied with us.
I did, Weyanna admitted. Brings new meaning to the phrase man eater, doesn’t it?
Look at that, she’s proud of it! Gwen said.
Why do you care what I, a half dragon, did in my private time? Weyanna asked. Besides, I’ve learned the errors of my ways. Men aren’t a lesser species. The Breaker has taught me that. I’ve healed countless men since joining this group. That should be redemption enough.
