Dawnbringer

by Gregory Mattix

  Malek chuckled and nodded. “Sure, why not? I wouldn’t mind the company. Magellan’s tower finds itself without an owner. I could sell some of his things and pay you what I still owe.”

  Nera pouted at him. “Think you so little of me, mageling? That I’m only concerned with clink? Even after all our adventures together?”

  He grinned. “I think you wouldn’t turn down some coin if it’d keep food in your belly and wood in the hearth to keep you warm at night.”

  “Aye, and a tankard of ale in my hand.” She stretched, not failing to notice Malek’s interest when the towel slipped down a bit. “I know a more enjoyable way to keep warm at night,” she teased, eyeing him suggestively.

  Malek blushed and started to stammer something, but she reached into the water and splashed him in the face. He spluttered and coughed.

  “Enough chatter—you need your beauty sleep. Lookin’ a little tattered around the edges. I’ll see if I can fetch you some clean robes. These’ll never do.” She frowned at the pile of his filthy robes.

  Malek thanked her and swam toward the other side. Nera let the towel slide off when she saw him glance back at her. She smiled to herself when his face went red and he hurriedly turned away from her challenging look.

  As she slipped her clothes back on, she wondered if they might find another quiet moment to themselves before the morrow. After the time they had shared in the Gray Lands, when she had brashly kissed Malek, she hoped so and was pretty sure he wouldn’t complain either.

  She left him to bathe and headed back to camp, lost in a daydream about walking down peaceful country lanes hand in hand with Malek after the quest was completed and put behind them.

  When she returned a short time later, Malek was just climbing out of the pool. She didn’t make nearly the noise he had, so he didn’t notice her, of course. In fact, she might have even moved stealthily in hopes of catching him unawares. Her precautions were well rewarded as what she saw didn’t disappoint. Despite having lost weight from his ordeal, he had a surprisingly fit build for a mage.

  He toweled off his hair and face and uttered a startled curse when he lowered the towel to find her before him. She grinned as he blushed and sought to cover himself with the towel.

  “What’s the matter, luv? Nothing I haven’t seen before.” She smirked and held out a fresh set of robes donated by one of the Steel Rage’s mages. She figured they’d fit Malek well enough although the other mage was a bit scrawnier, as most of them tended to be.

  “You snuck up on me on purpose,” he accused.

  “I can’t help being stealthy—I am a rogue, in case you hadn’t noticed,” she replied innocently.

  Malek couldn’t keep up the stern face for long, and they both laughed. He thanked her for the fresh robes and put them on when she graciously turned her back.

  He rolled up his old robes, intending to throw them in the fire when they returned, and they headed back to camp together.

  Chapter 3

  “Greetings, lad.”

  Malek looked up to find Yosrick approaching. Malek was sitting on a log at the edge of camp, gazing across the meadow and thinking of Hollowbrook, the closest thing to a home he could remember. He felt refreshed after his bath, shave, and change of clothes. His thoughts had bizarrely turned to the image of Nera and him living in Magellan’s tower just outside town. The thief had gone off to find her brother after they had returned to camp.

  The gnome looked much different without his armor, unimposing compared to before. Seeing Yosrick in regular clothing, Malek would never have guessed him to be a formidable warrior. He wore a rough-spun tan-and-brown tunic and breeches revealing a wiry, muscular frame. A thick belt filled with numerous pouches was buckled about his narrow waist. His red hair was combed out and his once-scruffy beard neatly trimmed. He carried a large tome under one arm.

  “Good morning, Yosrick.”

  The gnome sat on the log beside Malek and plopped the tome down on his lap. Malek caught the title on the cover: A Treatise on the Outer Planes.

  “With everyone off making preparations, I decided to study what I could of the Abyss.” He patted the tome and grimaced. “Discouraging read, that. We likely won’t make it to this Wall of Lost Souls, which is in a realm known as Achronia, without great struggle.”

  “You’re referring to the fact the Bracer of Fellraven isn’t calibrated correctly?”

  “Aye. I have not the skill, nor do any of the other mages in the camp. Wouldn’t surprise me much if the Engineer himself is the only one with the skill to repair it.”

  “So we’ll teleport into the Abyss, unsure just where we’ll end up or how far we will have to travel to reach Achronia and the Wall.” Malek rubbed at the scar in the palm of his hand, the memento of a Magehunter quarrel. “I see that will pose a problem for us.”

  Yosrick nodded. He plucked a pipe from one of his pouches and packed it full of tobacco. “Ignius,” he commanded.

  A rune carved on the side of the bowl flared red, and a moment later, a curl of smoke wafted from the pipe. Yosrick took a couple puffs and offered it to Malek, but he declined.

  After a moment, the gnome sighed. “I wanted to lend you the tome to have a study in case I fall. It’s a bit long-winded in parts but speaks of some of the different realms we may encounter, the nasties found there, and what have you. Likely, a lot of the information is of dubious accuracy, but it’s the best we got to go on. ’Twill be best to have more than one of us educated as to what we may face there.”

  “You’re right. I hate to say it, but it’s likely very few of us, perhaps none, will survive this trip.” He accepted the book and lifted the cover, glancing at the first few pages. Neat script along with rough sketches filled the pages.

  “Aye, lad. I think we all agree—no matter what happens to the rest of us—Nera must make it through.”

  Malek nodded somberly before closing the book and laying it beside him on the log. “She’s Sabyl’s Chosen, of that I have no doubt, but the goddess’s influence doesn’t extend to the Abyss, I’m afraid. She’ll need our protection, and regardless of what happens to the rest of us, she must reach this Engineer and convince him to come back with us and restore Nexus. I think, either before or after the meeting this evening, we should get the others’ feelings on the matter.”

  Yosrick blew a large smoke ring and watched it float upward until it dissipated. “Aye. I want nothing more than to return home to see Qixi and my younguns, but if it comes down to it, by the Sage’s beard, I’ll ensure they have a home where they can grow up even though I may not see it happen.”

  Malek didn’t know how to reply to that. After a couple moments, each lost in his own thoughts, the gnome stirred and rummaged around in one of his pouches.

  “Almost forgot—thought this may be of use to you.” He held out a large purple gem the size of his fist. It seemed to lack luster in his hand, but when it caught a ray of morning sunlight, it shimmered. “It’s a containment gem. I have little use for it at the moment. Figured if you could use it, would be best to take advantage of every tad bit of magic at our disposal if it’ll increase our chances of success.”

  Malek took the gem, marveling at the stone. He’d read of such items before but had never seen one. “This must be worth a small fortune.”

  Yosrick shrugged. “It’s valuable. Just don’t go giving it to Nera, or she’s liable to try to barter it away for a good amount of coin,” he said with a chuckle.

  “I have an idea—would you mind if I mounted it to a staff? I could use one, and the smith was grumbling earlier about not having any work to do.”

  “Aye, that sounds like a fine idea. Make sure you charge it up all the way before we depart. If you use earth magic, it could be in short supply in the Abyss. Anything there is likely twisted and corrupted—that’s why I thought this might be helpful.”

  “Absolutely! I was afraid how the Abyss might affect my magic, but this will work admirably. Thank you!”

  “Do
n’t mention it, lad. I’ll leave you to it.” Yosrick got to his feet and walked back toward camp, leaving Malek to marvel at the valuable gem.

  He opened up his senses to the earth magic around him, letting it fill him, and then poured the mana into the gem. Once it began storing magic, the gem sparkled brilliantly, as if it had its own inner light.

  ***

  Waresh watched as Belgar squinted at his dented helm, turning it over in his gnarled hands.

  “I reckon that one musta rung yer bell a good one, aye?” the elderly dwarven smith asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Waresh grunted. “Aye. It was well deserved, though,” he admitted, thinking back to when Yosrick had walloped him with his warhammer in the Deep Roads.

  Belgar chuckled. He had a bushy white beard, balding head, and barrel chest. Despite his age, his arms were still thick with muscle. “In me youth, I had a few moments like that. Usually on account o’ the ale. Aye, I’ll get ʼer pounded out for ye, lad. What about that mail shirt?” His tankard of ale sat momentarily forgotten since he had a customer.

  “It’s got a few rents could use patching, I reckon.”

  “Well, by Reiktir’s beard, give it here! Finally, some work to do. Too long sitting on me arse.” He helped Waresh unbuckle his breastplate.

  Waresh handed his mail shirt to the smith and stacked his cuirass and other armor pieces to the side. He took a long sip of the ale Belgar had offered him while they were sitting and chatting. The old smith muttered to himself while examining the mail.

  Waresh saw the mage, Malek, approaching, studying something in his hand thoughtfully.

  “Morning there, lad,” Waresh called, saluting Malek with his tankard. “Join us for a drink?”

  “Perhaps later. Thought mayhap you could fashion a staff for me and mount this on its head, Master Smith.”

  The eyes of both dwarves widened when he held out the gem, which sparkled as brilliantly as the finest gem Waresh had ever seen. Even shaded from the sunlight by Malek’s body, it shone radiantly, as if with some inner light.

  “Ooh, that’s a beauty!” Belgar set down Waresh’s armor and rushed over to examine the gem.

  “I’ve not seen its like before,” Waresh said with a frown. “Similar to an amethyst, but the clarity is exceptional. Purple sapphire?” he asked dubiously.

  “It’s a containment gem, me friend!” Belgar shouted in excitement. “Wizards use them for their trinkets.”

  “Huh. Never seen one up close before,” Waresh huffed, eyes locked on the gem. He absently took a swig of his ale, spilling some down his beard.

  “Can you fashion a staff with it?” Malek asked.

  “Bah! Me eight-year-old great-great-grandson could do that. But if ye want quality, that would take more than a day. And yer needin’ it on the morrow, no?” When Malek nodded, the smith stroked his beard. “Won’t be me best work, but should suffice with the short timeline. Best get to it, then. Check back in the morning, lad.” He seemed thrilled at the prospect of a challenge.

  Malek thanked him and walked off.

  Belgar wasted no time preparing to fire up his forge. He trudged over to a covered cart and pulled the tarp off then shoveled several loads of charcoal into his furnace. He paused as if just thinking of something.

  “Waresh! I meant to ask—if ye come across some Abyssal iron, I’d pay a pretty crown for it. Keep yer eyes peeled, lad.”

  Abyssal iron was the strongest and most sought-after metal known in the planes, due to its incredible strength and ability to hold powerful enchantments. It was also extremely rare, for the obvious reason that it could only be acquired in the Abyss, a dangerous venture for anyone.

  Reiktir’s beard—did I let that slip last evening? Nera had yet to formally announce that their quest would lead them into the Abyss. Their destination hadn’t exactly been a secret, but it wasn’t really his place to mention it either. Bah, if I hadn’t made mention of it, someone else would’ve. He chalked it up to the prodigious amount of ale he’d consumed since arriving at the camp the past night.

  “I reckon we’ll have a lot more to keep us busy than lookin’ for ores, Belgar.” If he happened across any ore, he’d try to bring some back, of course, but he doubted he’d make it back at all, so the notion ultimately seemed moot.

  ***

  Idrimel had just left her tent after her morning prayers when she spotted Yosrick wandering back into camp, a wooden pipe clamped between his teeth.

  Despite her mind racing the night before, she had eventually fallen into a deep sleep, although it had been plagued by nightmares. She was mortified at discovering she was one of the last to awaken in the camp that morning. Malek had slept longer, but he had a good reason, having been malnourished and fatigued after spending a week in the Gray Lands. She ate a late breakfast, to the amusement of some of her companions, and then Endira invited her to accompany her to the creek to bathe. As a result, her prayers had been delayed a bit.

  “Morning, Yosrick. Did you sleep well?” she asked politely.

  “Aye, I did, Lady Idrimel.” He grinned around the stem of the pipe before realizing it was still in his mouth. He promptly removed it, face red with embarrassment at his poor manners. “Was your rest refreshing?”

  “My dreams were troubled with nightmares again, but I feel rested enough. Will you walk with me for a time?” She’d had enough of dark caves and evil things in the shadows for a time. They’d be encountering much more on the morrow, she knew. For the time, she wanted to simply enjoy the day with a friend.

  “Of course. It’s a beautiful morning.” He spoke a word of magic. The ember in his pipe extinguished, and he then tucked the pipe into one of his pockets.

  They walked through the meadow in companionable silence for a few minutes, Idrimel simply enjoying the lovely day. The thick forest nearby, the green meadow dappled with wildflowers, and the deep-blue sky made her homesick for Ellorya.

  “I’m embarrassed to admit I didn’t know you even had a family until you made mention of them to the Keeper back in the Deep Roads. Will you tell me of them?” she inquired with a smile.

  “Aye, that would be my pleasure. With everything happening, I figured nobody would be interested in me boring them with talk of my family. Qixi would probably never let me leave the house again if she knew where we are headed in the morn.” His eyes took on a faraway look, and he smiled sadly. “What we do is for our families and friends, you know? We must protect those dearest to us. If that requires sacrifices, then so be it. As long as my wife is happy and provided for and the younguns can grow up safe and realize their dreams to be whatever they want, then I’ve done my duty as husband and father.”

  “And what do your children want to be when they grow up?”

  “Well my boy, Yosji, wants to be a mighty warrior. Or a powerful wizard, depending on the day of the week,” he said with a chuckle. “My little girl, Jobi, wants to be a princess. Even though we tell her you’re born a princess, you don’t become one by growing up, she won’t hear of it.”

  Idrimel laughed. “The innocence of children. I can barely remember my own childhood. I joined the priesthood as a novice when I was six years old. The church is as much my family as my parents and brother ever were.” Her smile slipped away at the mention of her brother. “Athyzon and I weren’t even that close until a few years past. Our studies had always kept us apart, he with his training with the Order of Paladins, and mine with the priesthood. Once I received my holy symbol, I was given much more time to myself, which coincided with Athyzon returning from campaigning.” She sighed and suddenly felt sorrowful at the memories of her brother. “His death… It has made me question my faith, my friend. I’m fearful that I won’t be strong enough when everyone is relying on me.”

  Yosrick stopped and looked at her, surprised. “Why, Lady Idrimel, your courage and faith are an inspiration to us all! Everyone questions their conviction at times and wonders if there’s naught they couldn’t have done differently along the way.
Perhaps that is why the gods leave us to our own devices—our free will can lead to so many possibilities. And, I’m confident in saying, you will be the light shining in the darkness, a beacon to guide us from the shadows of despair.”

  Heartened by her friend’s words of wisdom, Idrimel choked up for a moment at his honesty and belief in her. “You’re a good man, Yosrick Sparkspinner, and your family couldn’t be any prouder of you. I’d very much like to meet your family when all this is over. I’m sure the young ones take after their father.”

  “Perhaps, but thankfully, they get their looks from their mother,” he replied with a grin.

  Idrimel smiled in return. She vowed to see her friend make it safely home to his family. The multiverse could use more people of character like Yosrick.

  Chapter 4

  Nera found Arron lying on a grassy rise just outside of camp, across the road from Oblith’s inert portal. He looked asleep, hands cupping his head and face tilted up toward the blue sky. One green eye cracked open when her shadow fell over him, and he grinned.

  “Take a load off,” he said, patting the ground beside him.

  She dropped down beside him, lying back in the soft grass. “How are you, Brother? We didn’t get much time to catch up the past eve.” The half-elf’s condition looked similar to Malek’s, in that the two of them were thin from malnourishment as a result of their respective ordeals.

  “Ah, I’m fine, I suppose. It’s a relief to find everyone is still whole.”

  Aye, but not for much longer.

  Arron continued. “I was just letting my mind wander—thinking frivolous thoughts about the fate of Nexus and all the multiverse. That, and how my own sister has been Chosen to save us all.” His lips twisted in a wry grin.

  She smiled at his well-meaning jest but couldn’t really find much humor in it. “Thanks for reminding me how all that shite rests upon my shoulders, you oaf.” She elbowed him sharply in the side.