by Ben Hale
Anders looked back one last time. Boasting the smirk he'd worn his entire life, his expression conveyed only pride as black spears riddled his body. As he fell, the lightning spawned fire consumed the area and the prince disappeared from view. His heart tearing, Gaze screamed against the injustice, against the world, and against the loss. Then he slumped in defeat as the horse carried him to the relative safety of Azertorn.
Unable to contain it, he clenched his eyes shut . . . and wept.
Chapter 34: Dark Valley
Taryn’s gut tightened as he looked over the valley. As far as he could see, hundreds of thousands of fiends stretched in a roiling sea of black flesh. Even from this distance he could make out countless dots of red that marked packs of quare and the white bone armor of the kraka captains. From their vantage point on the northwest corner, most of the valley floor and neighboring foothills had been cleared of trees. Like a last bastion of life, a thin line of trees ringed the bowl, but there were constant patrols moving in and out of the remaining strip of forest.
“There is no way,” Trin said in a choked voice. “This is the first of three valleys that used to hold the eastern villages. Beyond that is Xshaltheria, but there is no way we are going to make it.”
“The battle at Azertorn begins tomorrow,” Siarra said, her voice full of despair. “We have to find a way.”
“Even if there wasn’t a soul in sight," Mae said, her expression one of dismay, "we would be hard pressed to make it before the battle starts.” Taryn shook his head and threw a look skyward as if searching for heavenly guidance. Ero save us, he thought.
He didn’t want to see it anymore, so he slipped back into the stand of oak trees where they had taken refuge. Just fifteen miles separated them from the ancient forge city where Draeken was imprisoned, but it might as well have been a thousand.
Dropping to a seat, he reached for his pack and grabbed a dry crust of bread. Chewing to allow it to soften, he felt numb. He already had a headache from the effort to find a solution, but he couldn’t stop himself. Of its own volition, his mind ran through everything they had argued about in the last few hours.
They could backtrack through the pass, and then follow the mountains east and hope for another way in. In Taryn’s mind, it was the worst possible plan, for if they found no opening, then there would not be enough time to make it back to their current location for a different attempt.
The second idea, suggested by Jack, was to use a series of diversions to draw the army’s attention to one side of the valley and allow the rest of the group to slip past. Although possible, the chance of survival for whoever provided the diversion was below minimal. Taryn cringed at the idea of trading lives for time.
Last, Siarra had suggested that she use magic to allow them to skirt the valley. Her idea meant working their way through the line of trees. If they encountered a patrol, Siarra would use her power to create a hiding place. Although in theory it seemed plausible, it would be slow. As of tomorrow they would have seven days to get to Draeken—and defeat him, or all the gathered races of Lumineia would be exterminated at Azertorn.
And thousands would be dying every second.
“Don’t see a way out, huh?” Liri said, sitting down beside him.
He shook his head, despair stealing into his voice. “Is it over, Liri?”
She surprised him by laughing, and when he looked at her he saw a sincere smile on her lean features. “I have never seen you or your sister stopped by anything. You will figure something out, even if it’s on the last day. The two of you—" She searched for the words. "—are unbeatable. There is no doubt in my mind that we will succeed.”
His lips twitched into a smile at her confidence in him and Siarra. “I wish I felt the same, but I just don’t see how we can.” He clenched his fist. “There are so many people that are going to die because of me, because we didn’t get there in time.”
She eased her slim hand into his and leaned forward until he looked at her. “The people who will lose their lives are going to die either way. You are going to save more than you can possibly know.”
“If we succeed,” he said.
“When we succeed,” she corrected with a raised eyebrow.
The others started coming back into the small clearing, ending their conversation. As they filed into their camp with hunched shoulders and downcast eyes, the only one who didn’t appear discouraged was Kell, whose expression could only be described as elated. Taryn got the feeling he liked the odds, and wondered if the rock trolls trained them to be insane. During the last engagement outside the gap, he had killed nearly as many as Siarra without breaking a sweat or being injured. Indeed the few glimpses Taryn had had of him, the rock troll had been jubilant.
“Do you want to take a walk?” Liri asked, the sound barely reaching his ears.
“Where?” he asked, and she motioned uphill where the trees gave cover.
He looked around at his silent friends, the feeling of discouragement so palpable he could almost taste it. He nodded at Liri and the two of them slipped out of camp. They took their time ascending the slope, for it became steep enough that they had to use trees and rocks to help them. After several minutes they reached a flat section of rock that overlooked the valley, but was just high enough to give a view of the distant Blue Lake, where the sun was still shining. Taryn had forgotten that it was still daytime. The shadow grayed everything and time had lost its meaning.
Liri settled next to him, still breathing hard from the climb, and for a moment they just stared west at the light. After a while, she leaned against his shoulder, shifting until she was comfortable.
She chuckled. “Why couldn’t you have noticed me before? Now we might only have a few days together.”
“What do you mean, noticed you?” Taryn said, feigning innocence. Since he and Liri and drawn closer, he’d learned a great deal about what he’d missed over the last several years, much to his chagrin. She lifted her head enough for him to see her knowing grin.
“Sorry,” he said.
Her smile turned sad. “I know Taryn. I don’t fault you for not being able to see when someone favors another. I knew that early on.”
He barked a laugh, but even during the brief moment of levity his mind still dwelled on the task before them. Then a question he’d been meaning to ask her came to mind. “Can you tell me what was it like to use the wind bow?”
She sat up and pulled the bow off her back. Setting it in her lap she caressed the knotted wood. “Like nothing I have every experienced,” she said, her voice gentle. With her eyes still on the bow, but not seeing it, she went on, “I could see the arrow, and in my mind I could feel the air around it. It seemed natural to touch the arrow from any side I wanted, nudging it to go where I needed it to.” She cocked her head to one side and added. “It was like I could see four times as far as normal, like peering through a distance viewer and shooting an arrow while knowing I could reach out and place it precisely where I wanted. It was exhilarating.”
Taryn found himself smiling, the war momentarily forgotten as he thought about his parents’ enchanted weapons. “I know what you mean,” he said.
“Is that how it is with your swords?” Liri asked, turning to him with curious eyes.
He nodded. “Wielding my father’s sword is like swinging contained, limitless power. It seems to anticipate where I want it to go and already be on its way when the thought crosses my mind.”
“And your mother's?”
“Hers is . . . different. On the one hand I feel its energy, but it is more subtle—no less powerful, just less obvious.”
She gave him a crooked smile, an expression that Taryn loved and which she rarely showed to others. This close to her, he felt he had to confess something that rankled. “I have to admit that in one way, fighting the fiends two days ago was . . . wonderful.”
“Really?” she said, her eyebrows pulling together. “In what way?”
He took a breath, unsure of how she w
ould respond, “I have trained my whole life to fight, and it has always come naturally to me.” He paused and looked away. “With the exception of Draeken's assassin, I have never been in a battle where I could use every skill I have honed. I felt such a fear of killing someone who didn’t deserve it, like a father or a brother. You said once that there was something in me that didn’t like to kill, and that piece of me saw good in others. If that is true, then when I saw the fiends, I saw no hint of goodness. I fought with everything I had, every trick I knew, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I had a purpose. I just wish that purpose wasn’t to kill.”
He fell silent, and didn’t have the courage to look at her. When he finally did, he found her smiling. “When you fought the fiends, it looked like you were free,” she said with a shrug. “You were born to do this, Taryn, to defeat this evil. You weren't born to kill.” She leaned towards him, her eyes piercing his. "You were born to save."
Taryn’s brow furrowed as her words reminded him, for the first time in a while, of the orb that Siarra had given him so long ago. She had told him that it would reveal possible fragments of the future, and he’d been hesitant to look into its depths for fear it would cause them to fail. He also recalled his decision in the gnome city to activate its magic. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the small, leather bound bag and emptied its contents into his hand.
“Is that what I think it is?” Liri asked, her eyes going wide.
“The orb that Siarra showed the queen,” Taryn answered in a small tone. “She said that it would reveal possible futures for me, but she didn’t know if I should use it or not. It sounded like one choice dooms us, and the other saves us. She gave it to me to choose.”
She let out a slow breath, and Taryn could see her thinking through the possibilities. “Are you going to do it?” she asked, her eyebrows full of concern.
He shrugged. “If there was ever a time to, it would be now. We are stuck, with no idea how to reach Draeken. Perhaps this holds the answer.” He hefted the ball to emphasize his point.
“Or it will show you something that will sabotage us,” she said.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Do you think I should?”
Her lips thinned as she considered the ramifications of both choices, but then she shrugged and her eyes met his. “Yes. As we are, we need direction. If we don’t get some guidance, everyone dies anyway. At least this gives us a chance.”
Cocking his head to one side, he thought about her logic. It made sense, and her words rang with truth. His mind made up, he took a deep breath. “Here goes . . .” Before he could change his mind he forced his gaze to the orb. At first there was nothing, but a moment later everything around him faded into nothingness.
For one long moment, all Taryn saw was black. Then he turned and saw Liri—but not the one sitting beside him. Rather she lay as a still form on stone steps where she’d been cut down. Blood ran from fresh wounds, and Taryn tried to run to her aid, panic engulfing his soul. Just as he reached her the scene changed.
Now he stood in a large stone circle, and in front of him he saw a mirror image of himself staring back at him. He reached out to himself and saw the image do the same, and suddenly he understood where he was. Looking upward he saw a figure shrouded in darkness chained against a wall above him.
Kill him and you kill me, it said. The voice penetrated his mind, the tone sinister and dark. The words sank into his heart like black ink. Then he watched himself draw his sword at the same time as the mirror of himself did the same. Though he tried to stop himself, his sword reached out and pierced the mirage, but his eyes were on the evil sword entering his own body, and the pain was excruciating.
Abruptly the view shifted to Azertorn, and he saw Braon standing in the house of Runya. The young man gazed skyward, his expression sad, and Taryn looked upward as well. The enchanted ceiling of the house of Runya showed the sky, but all he saw was the black shadow that hovered above the army. As he watched, the dark cloud encircled a shaft of light that still existed above the city, and then extinguished it. When he looked at Braon again, he lay dead on the floor with a fiend standing over him. Taryn's heart wrenched, but before he could do anything his form lifted into the air above the city and flew over the cliff.
Thousands of bodies lay dead, and only fiends were left. In that moment the sky above him cleared, the darkness washing away to leave the brilliant sunset, and when he looked down again, the army of fiends was gone. Only the bodies of the dead races remained. Even if I sacrifice myself I am too late, he thought, and pure anguish tore through his soul as the view dissolved.
Now he stood, again in the air, but this time the view was familiar. Hovering, he stood above himself and Liri sitting on the cliff as he looked into the orb. Then he was soaring through the air. Flying east along the mountain, he drifted down and landed in front of an obscured opening in the mountain. His body glided in, leading him into a tunnel that appeared to be an abandoned mine. At the first junction he saw the shaft split into three directions. One headed east and he could sense that the mine shaft would get them past the first valley.
One more time, everything around him faded, and he saw himself in the stone circle facing his mirror image once again. For several long minutes he stared at an evil copy of himself. Then he looked upward and saw Draeken, almost fifty feet off the ground, with a smooth wall underneath him. There was no way to reach him . . . but then he felt his body somehow rise upward and cross the intervening space. Raising his father's sword high, he plunged it deep into Draeken’s chest. Mortally wounded, the Lord of Chaos arched his back and screamed before the image faded to black.
Taryn blinked his eyes open and saw Liri’s concerned face inches from his. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
He nodded, realizing that his body felt fine while his head pounded with a dull ache. Before he could forget, he ran through the images he’d seen so they would remain fresh in his memory, but couldn’t bring himself to look at Liri’s dead form. In his heart he refused to believe that she would die. He would not allow it.
“Did you see anything?” she asked, her voice hopeful.
He forced a smile and focused on her. “I know what we are supposed to do.”
Chapter 35: Hope Burned
“Deiran reports that a rider from the southern kingdom has arrived. He is alive, but not by much,” Thacker said from behind Braon.
He nodded to acknowledge the report but didn’t turn. If he did, he was afraid his emotions would betray him. “Inform me when he wakes. I would like to speak with him.”
Like every person in the gathered races of Lumineia, he stood transfixed, watching the forest of Numenessee burn. The fire only covered the southern half of the elven forests, but the wind was driving it northward. Smoke and cinders flew thick in the air, blotting out the entire horizon, and forcing many of their army to wrap cloth around their mouths to prevent inhaling the smoke.
Like a hungry beast, the raging inferno crept closer and closer to the cliff. Unable to turn away, Braon watched from the roof of the House of Runya, listening to the great outcry from the elven nation. Cries of rage mingled with despair as the fair people watched their beloved forest disintegrate before their eyes, helpless to stop it. Trees toppled in a shower of sparks, birds scattered and flew north, calling their anger at the destruction of their homes. Each sight and sound sent a blade through the heart of every onlooker.
Knowing it would take a long time to burn, Braon wrenched his mind away from the terrible sight and walked to his room to prepare himself for the impending ordeal. He ate alone, washed the smudged ash from his face, and tried to sleep, unable to ignore the lamentations of the elven race. At long last he fell into a nightmarish slumber, where trees and people burned, and he ordered them to their deaths.
Throughout the night and the following day, the forest of hope burned bright. By the time the flame had eaten its way out of things to consume, silence reigned on t
he Giant’s Shelf. Numb disbelief on behalf of the gathered nations had no other way to express itself, and soldiers of every race passed the day with barely a word.
Once again on the roof, Braon watched the smoky landscape and charred remains of the once lovely wood, and then stayed as dark shapes began to materialize in the haze. Ghostlike, the small groups of snarling fiends turned into thousands . . . then hundreds of thousands . . . and finally millions of roiling bodies advanced towards the cliff. Thick smog obscured his visibility, yet it was still evident that the fiend army already covered more than four times the ground of his entire army—and still they poured out of the smoke like demons in a nightmare.
“By Ero’s staff . . .” Thacker breathed, his jaw working in shock. Around him he heard more curses as the fiends approached, close enough to make out the different types.
Sipers, the huge dogs with scales and silver eyes growled and snapped at the sparks rising from their paws. Man-shaped quare, their thick manes shimmering red, bounded forward, seeking blood. Giant kraka’s, marked by their bone armor and their massive black swords. Then skorpians appeared in the gloom, their pincers snapping with menace, and their tails twitching with anticipation.
The black army of Draeken advanced through the scorched remains of the forest of hope, until it came to a halt at the base of the Giant’s Shelf. For one long moment, utter stillness stretched between the two armies. The united races of Lumineia, defiant in the face of annihilation, readied themselves for the attack that would slay them all.
“For seven days the light will fight the dark,” Braon whispered to himself, remembering the words of the Oracle. Then his eyes were drawn skyward, where the last rays of daylight were fading behind the shadow that hovered above the evil throng. Somewhere nearby he heard Reiquen scream a furious challenge, but the sound was strangely muted. In that instant, all that existed to the fifteen year old boy from Terros, was the light shining from above. Drawing on its strength, he took a deep breath and looked back at the darkness he had to outlast.
