“I’m coming up,” Dyla said.
With feline skill, Dyla quickly climbed up the two men, smiling at Eclair as she climbed onto his shoulders. Eclair flushed red to the ears and hardly noticed her weight. Once on Eclair’s shoulders, Dyla unhooked the anchor from her belt and tried to reach up and secure it in the crevice.
“Damn, I’m still short by an arm’s length. There’s no way I can reach it.”
“Hang on,” Darius called up. “Eclair, this is what I was talking about earlier. Lift Dyla over your head.”
Eclair would have laughed, if he wasn’t so scared. He feared he didn’t have the strength to lift Dyla while balancing on Darius. He took a deep breath, positioned his hands under Dyla’s feet and tried to push upward. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t lift her.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do it,” he moaned.
“Eclair, try again. I know you can do it,” Dyla said, projecting her confidence to him.
Eclair focused on his inner strength, touched his core of power and projected it upwards. Slowly he began to extend his arms. As soon as she was close enough to the crack, Dyla locked the anchor in place and clipped the rope into it.
She quickly grabbed the rope and slid down until she was eye-to-eye with Eclair. The look of deep concentration on his face made her hesitate a moment; he seemed a world away. She was afraid to touch him for fear of startling him, but he needed to release his concentration before he became exhausted. With her legs locked around the rope, she reached with one hand and gently touched his face.
“Eclair, can you hear me?”
Eclair opened his eyes to Dyla’s smiling face mere inches away from his own.
“What?”
“I got it, you can relax now,” she said, kissing his nose before climbing down the rope.
Darius called up to Eclair. “Anytime you want to come down ...”
It took a few jerky moments, and one last kick to Darius’s head, before Eclair was able to get his legs around the rope and slide down, burning his hands the whole way.
“Not the best way to slide down a rope,” Dyla said.
He blew on his burning hands. “Yeah, I got that.”
Now the first test of Darius’s physical strength and prowess came. He attached the rope to his harness belt and readied himself for the climb.
“I’m set,” Darius said, looking to Dyla. “You ready?”
“I got you,” she replied, setting the rope behind her back.
As Darius climbed the cliff, Dyla watched and acted as his safety net. In addition to the scale of the climb, Darius had to maintain silence for fear that any sentry above would hear him and sound an alarm.
The support line that Dyla was holding would soon run out, so Darius had to search for a suitable spot to set up a transfer point. He spotted a ledge that might support all three of them, and started to work his way toward it.
As Darius reached the outcrop, he locked his hand into a crack in the rock face, and used it as an anchor to pull himself up. Sitting on the ledge and looking down, he gave Dyla and Eclair a wave of assurance.
Well that should be the worst of it, he thought
Darius stood up on the narrow shelf to test his weight, and suddenly felt it begin to give way. He quickly pressed himself flat against the cliff face and shoved his hand back into the crack he had used as an anchoring point. He began to inch his way off the ledge to a better anchoring position, but as he moved the ledge gave way completely.
“Oh damn,” Darius muttered.
He shoved his feet against the cliff to secure his position, but the anchoring crack proved to be too weak to hold the shock of his full weight without the ledge as leverage. As the crack began to disintegrate, he frantically reached for another, grabbing onto it with his fingertips. His first hand slipped and he found himself dangling precariously for a moment before his second hand slipped as well. With nothing else to hold, Darius fell backwards and watched the cliff face speed by as he plummeted to certain death.
Dyla and Eclair were watching Darius intently when the ledge gave away.
“Oh crap,” Eclair cried, “he’s falling.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got him.”
Dyla had watched Darius scramble for a hold before losing his grip. She quickly moved backward, with the safety rope locked behind her back, taking up the slack in the rope. Darius was jerked to a painful stop in midair. She leaned back into the rope, making sure Darius didn’t slip any farther. The sudden stop knocked the wind out of him and he hung on the rope like a broken doll suspended from the cliff.
“Wow, that’s gotta hurt,” Eclair said, watching Darius dangle.
“Better a little pain then a big splat,” Dyla replied, watching her brother recover.
After a few tense minutes, Darius caught his breath, regained his center, and gave a thumbs-up to his team below. He used the rope to climb back to the last anchor point, where he could rest and start to look for a better path up.
“Why don’t you give me the rope?” Eclair said. “That way you can step back and watch him better. You can let me know if he gets near any more danger areas.”
“OK, thanks.”
Dyla stood back to get a better look at her brother’s climbing. Eclair stood with the rope behind his back, craning his head to watch. Before too long, Darius reached a suitable ledge and tied off the rope. He signaled down for them to start climbing. Eclair’s mind was now set on the image of Dyla looking at his backside while he climbed up the cliff face. He hesitated before moving to the rope.
Mistaking his embarrassment for nerves, Dyla patted Eclair on the back. “Don’t worry about climbing; I’ll be right behind you.”
“Great.” Eclair grabbed the rope and started to climb. He focused his total concentration on climbing the rope inch by inch, and not on the fact that he was getting higher with each pull. He calmed his breathing and reached deep inside himself to keep the fear at bay. In far less time than he had imagined, Darius was helping him onto the ledge.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No, I guess not.”
They both watched as Dyla climbed up the first section with ease. The rest of the climb was uneventful, and the trio soon found themselves only a few feet below the top of the cliff. Darius lifted his head over the edge far enough to see what awaited them. He spotted a sentry walking away from the edge, and another in a stationary position further back.
Darius sighed. “Unbelievable. Why would anyone post two sentries to guard nothing?”
Eclair popped his head over the edge to take a look.
Darius glanced at him, but turned to Dyla to strategize.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this one,” Eclair said.
“Wait, what are you going to do? You can’t make any noise or they’ll hear you, and we’ll be captured.”
“Trust me.”
He waited a moment until the sentries were together, and then concentrated while they talked to one another. From behind each of them, a hand-sized stone rose into the air, sped forward and smashed into their heads, knocking them both out cold.
“Damn, you killed them,” Dyla exclaimed.
Eclair smirked. “I didn’t kill them. Don’t worry; I’ve had years of practice throwing objects at people’s heads.”
Darius stared at Eclair, the realization slowly coming to him.
“You? It was you bouncing those pebbles off my head, harassing me all those years at the Institute.”
Dyla tried hard to contain her laughter. Darius had often complained to her that someone kept throwing small rocks at his head, but he could never figure out who it was.
“Boys, this is not the time to argue. We have a job to do here.”
“This isn’t over,” Darius grumbled.
Eclair shrugged his shoulders, trying hard not to smile. All those years of practice had finally come in handy.
With the sentries down, they climbed up and Dyla led them towards the objective. When the team app
roached the tent that held the recorder, Dyla signaled them to stop.
“There are two sentries guarding the front,” she said quietly.
“They’re only looking at the front of the camp,” Darius whispered. “Let’s move to the back of the tent and try to get in that way.”
It proved relatively simple. They slipped around to the back of the tent and Darius slit an opening with his knife. The trio slipped through into the interior with no fanfare. The recording device was positioned on a table directly in front of them. They moved silently to the device, and inserted their personal crystals to record the completion of this obstacle. One down, eleven to go.
Darius immediately signaled Eclair to open a portal back to the waypoint. When the portal opened, an alarm sounded within the camp. The sentries rushed into the tent, weapons readied, only to see the portal wink out of sight.
Excerpt from The Chronicles of Otharia during the reign of the First Vacancy:
Division I – The Rule of Otharia
Subsection II – The Grand Council
The Grand Duke has the most powerful position in Otharia, but it is an elected position and is of limited duration. Any Grand Duke may hold the office for multiple terms, but still must be reappointed by the majority of the Council members. There have been several recorded instances of a Grand Duke petitioning the Grand Council to become King, but all have failed. The power of a King transcends all and the position is life-long and hereditary. Every member of the Council has to vote for this, and no Grand Duke has ever been that popular. Alliances among the duchies have been formed to sway the events and directions of rule, but none have ever been strong enough to support a bid for Kingship.
Chapter 16 – Vogdo
Sitting in his private study, Grand Duke Vogdo smiled while he scanned the message tallying the latest results of the Grand Competition. His sponsored Dalcon team had completed ten of the twelve events, and begun the eleventh. This put them into a solid lead, with the rest of the pack at least one event or more behind them. They should be able to maintain their advantage and easily secure a first place win.
They should be winning, Vogdo thought. With all the time and money I spent on their training, no one should be near them. Besides, I know they wouldn’t want to disappoint their future King.
Vogdo nearly turned giddy at his last thought. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and imagined himself on his kingly throne handing out bequeathals, and passing judgment on those who would defy his will. All eyes would be upon him and ...
“Excuse me, my lord.”
Vogdo’s eyes snapped open, annoyed at the interruption.
“What is it now?” Vogdo asked, spying his servant standing attentively a few feet away.
“Another update, my Lord.”
Vogdo sat up and leaned forward, extending his hand. He was momentarily surprised at receiving another update so soon. It must contain some extraordinary news.
“Very well, give it to me.”
Kar moved forward to hand Vogdo the message. He was Vogdo’s head servant and one of the few who were allowed into Vogdo’s private study. He handed Vogdo the updated score sheet then quickly stepped back. He had seen what the update said, and feared what Vogdo might do when he read it. Vogdo’s annoyance quickly turned to anger.
“Damn those twins!” Vogdo cursed.
The Telkur/Jortac team had recorded another completed event. It was their tenth and they were now tied with the Dalcon team for the lead. Kar inwardly cringed at Vogdo’s initial outburst and waited for his inevitable volcanic temper to erupt. When Vogdo’s demeanor turned to an icy calm, it scared Kar even more.
Shaking his head slowly, Vogdo tried to decide what he would do about this latest update. The Telkur/Jortac team could not be allowed to win, and these latest results had finally forced his hand.
They’ve left me no choice now. Why couldn’t they just leave well enough alone? I’m not a bad man, but they continue to force me to do bad things.
Vogdo hastily scribbled a note. He looked up and motioned for Kar.
“Send this message immediately to this address in the Telkur Duchy,” he said handing the note to Kar.
“Yes, my lord.”
Kar took the note, and quickly left the study to do his lord’s bidding.
Vogdo sat back to wait, impatiently tapping his fingers on his desk. The message was sent to a specific address that had been set up solely as a drop point for important communications. The message would be forwarded immediately upon receipt and Vogdo should get an answer soon. He stood up and paced his study waiting for his answer. He tried to lose himself in the view out his window, but even the magnificence of the castle grounds failed to quell his agitation today.
Within the hour, a portal opened inside his study and a shadowy figure stepped through. Vogdo looked up and saw the familiar face of his trusted subordinate.
“Ah, my old friend,” Vogdo said. “It’s good to see you again.”
“My Lord, I take it this summons is due to some unexpected turn of events?”
“Always able to read the situation so well,” Vogdo replied nodding his head. “As a matter of fact, it is. Those pesky Telkurs have almost caught up with my Dalcon team. The situation has reached a point where it is time we implement a new stratagem to our plan.”
“You mean a final solution, my lord?”
“No, no, things have not deteriorated to that point quite yet.”
“Then what shall it be, my lord?”
“Implement the plan we devised to slow the Telkurs down. Do it at their next event. That should allow the Dalcons all the advantage they need to win.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
“I want you to take special care in administering this plan. They must not be allowed to win, but with all eyes on this competition, we can ill afford any grave mistakes.”
“It shall be done exactly as you planned, Sire.”
“Thank you, Nils; that will be all.”
Nils bowed slightly, opened a portal and stepped through.
Vogdo walked back to the window. Nils was his most trusted servant and Vogdo was confidant that he would take care of the twins. Vogdo breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of the garden below. He visibly relaxed and his heartbeat steadied knowing everything was under his control again.
Excerpt from The Chronicles of Otharia during the reign of the First Vacancy:
Division III – Trade and Commerce
Subsection IV – The Grand Competition
The major draw of the Grand Competition was the purse. The winners of the competition received a purse that was enough to make them rich beyond their dreams. Unfortunately, the entry fees were exorbitant as well, and most teams had to be sponsored by a royal house to enter. The events of the competition were so difficult that a team usually were not sponsored until they had years of practice together. The chance of a young team losing was too great a risk to justify losing the large entry fee. The Dukes were known to bet on their sponsored teams and some of the bets were greater than the overall winnings from the competition.
Chapter 17 – Sabotage
The heat beat down unmercifully on the trio. The unending haze that filled Darius’s vision only added to the misery of the heat. The desert was featureless, a sea of sand, burning any unwary traveler into the ultimate defeat.
Will this never end, he thought.
The heat was taking its toll on his team. Darius kept prodding Eclair along the final stretch. Their original plan had not included walking through the desert of the Grenchy Duchy and it was a serious detriment to their competition time.
From the first portal hop, the trio realized something was wrong. There was no problem opening portals in the barren wasteland, but once through the portal, the sands looked the same in all directions and they could not keep their bearing. Eclair had never traveled to the Grenchy Duchy before, so he had no sense of the terrain and nothing familiar to latch on to. After each jump, they spent valu
able time trying to re-orient their position. It soon became obvious to Darius that they could not continue jumping without some landmark to guide them. One misjudged portal could send them leagues off track from the objective. In the end, they kept walking forward, persevering through the desert landscape.
“There’s something ahead,” Dyla cried.
“Are you sure it isn’t another mirage?” Darius asked.
“No, I feel people this time.”
Over the next rise, they found a dozen tribesmen occupying an oasis. They weren’t there to prevent any team from reaching the objective, for the surrounding terrain was guard enough. This event was so difficult that any team that found its way to the objective was allowed to record its crystals, replenish its water, and be on its way without any interference from the tribesmen.
They rested briefly before pushing on. Darius noticed Eclair slowing again; the brief respite at the oasis had failed to energize him. Though they neared the end of this objective, Darius worried that he might have to carry Eclair the last few leagues. He would do whatever it took to finish. Eclair had surprised him a great deal in the past weeks and he held a newfound respect for the Jortac heir.
“Keep your focus Eclair. You’re doing great.”
Eclair kept plodding along without acknowledging Darius.
They walked on for hours. The endless desert extracted every bit of life it could from the bone-weary trio. Cresting the next dune, Dyla pointed ahead, crying out in excitement.
“There in the distance, it’s Sandwell. Can you see it?”
Darius squinted at the low line of darkness on the horizon.
“I see something, but I can’t make out what it is.”
“Not only do I see it, but I can feel it as well. That’s what we’ve been looking for.”
Darius nodded.
“Good. Eclair, can you open a portal close to the line in the distance?”
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