The Sword of Light

by Andrew G. Wood

  “Stop daydreaming and have Arach scan the local area for signs of trouble,” the old Mage snapped.

  “Sorry!” Finley replied almost confused as to where his mind was going before the man had startled him back to reality. “Arach is not here yet,” he replied concentrating to sense where the dragon was. It appeared the injury sustained was still hampering Arach, although it gave no pain and was all but healed, the wound seemed to slow him down just a little.

  “What do we do now Galdrac?” Leyna asked, slipping down from her horse and patting it on the neck.

  “Only thing we can do. We wait for Arach to arrive and tell us how far away the balgraf are, and make sure we all ready for when they get here.”

  “You think this is definitely the place?” the prince asked mirroring Leyna’s actions.

  “ I am certain of it, “ Galdrac replied, although it was evidently clear even he was not so sure.

  “Well no harm will come to us waiting,” Leyna added suggesting they all rest a while and move the horses away slightly. If there was to be any significant event taking place, and Finley was, as depicted, going to defeat the Forces of Darkness, it clearly wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  Finley did not have to wait too long for Arach to reach them. The injury might have slowed the dragon a little, but he was still much faster than any other creature on the planet. Galdrac immediately asked Finley to have Arach scan the local vicinity, and as such he closed his eyes and connected to Arach’s dragon sight. Suddenly seeing everything from an aerial perspective and in the varying colours certainly took some getting used to.

  As Arach flew overhead, he felt somewhat surreal that he was, in fact, looking down at himself and the others on the hilltop at Godsill. Moving the dragon slowly outwards, circling around he spotted several shapes in and around the scattering of homes at the bottom of the incline and a few farm animals a little further on. It was quickly apparent there was no army of balgraf, at least not close by, something which he relayed back to Galdrac, although keeping his eyes firmly closed to continue his widening search.

  Further afield, some several miles off to the west, Finley spotted signs that perhaps Galdrac might be right. Although not in one singular vast group, Arach sighted scores of much smaller groups moving swiftly through the forests, seemingly unnoticed and unseen, all that was except by the dragon. Had Arach not been able to see through the cover of the trees, these balgraf could and probably would have appeared on Felham’s doorstep without any warning. However, now they knew they were out there, Finley asked Arach to keep track on them, while he prepared.

  With the estimate that the enemy was still an hour away from their position, Galdrac was happy for the group to take a short break for refreshments. Although he did not say it, he knew that if things did not go as planned, this well might be their last. With the sun already low in the sky, it would likely be dusk before the balgraf started arriving, although Galdrac knew they yet needed to be in one large group. Perhaps, he thought, Godsill was to be their meeting place before they attacked as one large force, at least that was his theory.

  Finley paced back and forth as they waited, holding the Sword of Light in his hand. Was he the only one willing the balgraf to hurry up and get here? The thought of unleashing so much power now all but controlled his mind. The others in the group were now merely onlookers, just shapes standing on a hill top. “They are gathering together!” Finley said reiterating the message he had just received from Arach, although the words were meant for himself as opposed to any members of the group.

  Within just a few minutes a sea of dark-haired beasts amassed in huge numbers at the foot of the hill on the opposite side to the human settlement. Galdrac watched on, feeling his palms sweating as he gripped his staff a little tighter, not that having it would do much good against such a vast army. He glanced up to see scores of the flying balgraf appear as if from nowhere, just circling above. He turned to tell Finley to make sure Arach was away from danger, but the youngster was still busy pacing about with the Sword of Light clutched in his hands.

  Chapter 26.

  As the forces of Darkness grew in number, it came as no great surprise, to Galdrac at least, that Abalyon made an appearance. However, it was also quickly apparent that the God had not expected to find such a group stood on the hilltop opposing his army. Swirling about in a cloud of dark mist Abalyon appeared before them. Moving slowly along the line of the small group before coming to a halt and staring at the man he knew as Zerus Maldhor.

  Finley felt a chill run down his spine as the ghost-like face of Abalyon floated just in front of him. Any thoughts of invincibility suddenly ebbed away as the God seemed far too happy to see him. “Zerus Maldhor, Why are you here?” The God said confused as to why he was not at Carison defending the humans. However, that uncertainty soon faded when the dark misty figure noticed the Sword of Light in Finley’s hands. “Yes. Use it to strike down my balgraf. Feel the power it gives you Zerus Maldhor and know that I can give you far more when you join me.”

  Finley lifted the sword up to the sky, and as predicted by Abalyon the power surged through his body. Pulsating, revitalising every last inch he felt better than ever before. No longer feeling the aches and pains of travelling, nor the worry’s of the world, Finley felt alive. “Yes…That’s it Zerus Maldhor. Feel the power!” Abalyon said goading him on. A stream of lightning shot down from the heavens lighting up the dull, gloomy sky, before crashing down to the ground just a few paces from where the group was stood.

  Galdrac for one decided to take several steps back, waving his hand and suggesting it might be best if the others in the group did likewise. Leyna however, could sense something was not right and actually stepped nearer to where her son was entranced amidst the swirling mist she knew to be Abalyon. Despite another lightning bolt crashing down into the ground nearby, she felt no fear, just concern for her son and what the God was having him do.

  Placing a hand on her son’s shoulder, she called his name, ignoring the face in the mist telling her she was going to die. Leyna could feel the energy coming from Finley’s body as if it were some great source of power, and touching him sent a tingling sensation through her hand and into her arm. Although not particularly pleasant she held on, tightening her grip and calling his name again. “Too late Elf, Zerus Maldhor will be mine!” Abalyon shouted, his voice so loud it echoed out over the hillside for all to hear. The God drifted away up into the air before reappearing a little further nearer the base of the hill beside his army of balgraf.

  Galdrac looked on as Leyna gripped her son, calling his name in vain as he appeared non-responsive to her words. He heard her calling again, only louder but the boy was gripped by power as the heavens above them came alive. Forks of light streamed and crackled across the sky, which under different circumstances would have probably been quite a spectacle to behold. However, Galdrac knew this was not going to plan. This was not supposed to be how it was, and then from nowhere, he had a thought.

  Without thinking, he ran forward and held on to Leyna’s hand mumbling the words, “We need to be as one.” He said them several times as he felt a tingling sensation running through his body, something that Leyna must also be feeling. “We need to be as one!” he shouted turning to face the others.

  The young prince, who had stared at the painting depicting this moment many times, suddenly knew what the Old Mage was on about. “Karesh, Akeev…Mazen,” he shouted calling on a Troll, an Orc and a Dwarf to make the numbers up. Unsure what part he was supposed to play if any, and the fact Galdrac as a human was already linked to Finley he held back and stood just a little away from Sessi. The wolf appeared unfazed despite its Master's actions, and James wondered if it felt as Finley did.

  Karesh grabbed Akeev with one hand and Mazen’s arm with the other, dragging them towards the man holding the Sword of Light. There came a deafening roar as hundreds of balgraf cried out and started charging up the hill towards them. A deathly laugh echoed out ar
ound them as Abalyon could sense Finley was about to go beyond the point of no return. Soon Zerus Maldhor would plead to join him, as only he could give him the power he would now crave for.

  Karesh held on to his brother, and Akeev stood next to him who was also holding onto Mazen. On the other side of Finley, Leyna clutched her son’s arm while Galdrac held her free hand with his own. The streaks of lightning continued to fork out across the darkening sky, as the hordes of Darkness scrambled up the hill towards them.

  Finley suddenly felt strange and for a few moments time ceased. He looked out before him to see the balgraf now motionless in their running as if the moment had been captured and put down in a painting. While nothing else moved he could, strange, he thought. Turning his head right he could see Karesh, Akeev and Mazen, all holding on to each other and him. To his left, he could see the tearful, sorrowful face of his mother, her mouth half open as if she were shouting something at him. Galdrac, the old Mage held her free hand looking up at the heavens.

  Across the way, he could even see the familiar misty figure of Abalyon, frozen in time like everything else. Arach he could sense was some way behind him, but Sessi was just a few yards away. Despite everything going on, the chaos of the moment suddenly appeared to have vanished, and everything was now clear. The power that had felt so good to behold was still there, yet he no longer felt like it controlled him, and if he so wished he could cease the connection anytime that he wanted.

  Abalyon may have been frozen in time with everything else, but four bright ghostly figures appearing before him clearly were not. Recognising three of them instantly as Heralin, Goddess of the Elves, Thedan of the Dwarfs and Eldan, God of the Humans, Finley knew by default that the last figure must be the creator of the Orcs. A character he had not seen, nor spoken with before and somehow a far cry from how he would have imaged the Orc’s maker to be. Rather than some big brutish looking figure, stood a small, diminutive figure, looking almost like a young girl. “I am Sunas,” she said introducing herself in a soft calming voice.

  “What is happening?” Finley asked. Eldan drifted nearer towards him, his young face smiling straight at him. “You have all done so well,” the God replied. Eldan spoke quickly but clearly, explaining they had stopped time to allow Finley to make his choice. “The fate of the world now hangs on you. We can not force the path you take Finley, it must be a choice for you to make.”

  Feeling somewhat unsure as to what the God was going on about, the choices were made clear for him. Take the gift of the power being offered and stand at Abalyon’s side and rule the forces of Darkness. Alternatively, he could destroy the Darkness and cleanse the world of its taint, but at a cost.

  “There's always a ‘but.' “

  Eldan’s smiling face suddenly appeared sad. “If this is the path you choose, it can only be done so with sacrifice. As you will understand, we can not allow such a powerful being as yourself to remain in the world once the Darkness is defeated.”

  Finley merely nodded his head, understanding exactly what was being explained. The gods might have been all powerful, but he thought sometimes they were also very cruel. Knowing what he had to do to save those around him, those he loved and cared for, the temptation of great power no longer even seemed an option. As great as it made him feel, the thought he could rule the entire world if he so wished, no longer seemed important to him.

  As if at a click of a finger somebody had set the wheels of time back in motion, everything once more sprung back into life. The roars of the balgraf as they ran up the hillside filled the air, and the sky’s above were once more lit up by his magical force of lightning. The four white figures had gone, and he was now left to make his choice. “I choose sacrifice,” he said as he lowered the tip of the sword down slightly and pointed it towards the charging mass of balgraf now just a hundred paces away.

  The lightning that had crackled zig-zagging across the sky now veered down to the earth. With each fork dividing, again and again, the beasts of the darkness started to fall. The balgraf before him were left as no more than smouldering corpses as every single beast was dealt its deathly blow. The sky above continued to fill with light, stretching out far and wide, beyond his vision. Off in the distance, other lightning strikes could be seen slamming down into the earth, as other balgraf further afield succumbed to Finley’s God-like power.

  Abalyon, at least at first laughed out loudly, his voice echoing around the hillside for all to hear. However, something was not right, and the God suddenly stopped as he realised Zerus Maldhor’s power was exceeding anything he had believed possible. His army of balgraf was falling and not just on the hillside before him. He could sense them miles away, in the forests, in the tainted lands of The Wastes and even those around the cities he was ready to take.

  With tears streaming down his face, Finley knew his time was all but over. The job he had been tasked with had been done, and the world, for now at least, could live without fear. The balgraf would all be gone, and those he loved and cared for most of all could live their lives in peace. He heard Abalyon’s cry of despair and watched as the bright sky suddenly darkened once more now that the lightning had ceased. Although he could still feel the presence of his mother beside him, her touch no longer registered as everything before him suddenly turned black.

  Galdrac took a sharp intake of breath as the sky cleared, and quickly turned to his right to see Finley drop to the ground in a heap. Leyna quickly cradled him in her arms, as she let out her own cry holding on to her son’s limp body. The Sword of Light merely fell to the ground from Finley’s hand as the others all gathered around. Galdrac did not want to ask the question, so knelt down beside Leyna and placed his fingers on the side of Finley’s neck. The boy’s skin was cold, and despite hope to the contrary, he felt no sign of life.

  Feeling his own tears welling in his eyes, the Old Mage placed a comforting arm around Leyna and slowly shook his head. Karesh, although trying to be brave, turned away, unable to look at the sight of his mother feeling so much pain. Orcs apparently did not cry when grieved, yet here he was, tears freely rolling down his cheeks looking up at the darkening sky. He felt a large hand on his shoulder and turned to see Akeev, looking somewhat quizzically at him, as if the troll was unsure as to what had just happened.

  James turned to his small group of men, “Is it all over?” Seamus asked. The Prince did not speak, but merely gave a single nod of his head, before turning to look at the others gathered around the limp, lifeless body of a young man. Feeling his own sorrow, he stared a while at the white wolf who appeared utterly perplexed as to what was going on, and so he thought he would seek his own comfort by giving the creature some attention. As he knelt down to ruffle the wolf’s fur, he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. A shape flying across the darkening sky, and the sudden panic that came with thinking all the balgraf were not yet dead.

  Chapter 27.

  As Karesh picked up the limp, lifeless body of his brother, while his mother was being consoled by Galdrac he heard James, the young human Prince shout something at him. “Look up!” the voice sounded again. James ran the few yards between them and pointed the group’s attention to the sky. At first, he had thought it a flying balgraf, but now the shape was much closer he could see it was something entirely different.

  “Arach!” Galdrac muttered. “How can this be?” he asked knowing only too well that when Finley died, the dragon would also perish. Yet there he was circling above them, as if unsure what to do. The old Mage was confused. If Arach was still alive, did that mean Finley was not yet dead?

  Without further delay, he asked Karesh to lower the boy’s body to the ground as he knelt down beside it once more. Again he placed his hand on the side of Finley’s neck looking for signs of life, but the skin was still cold, and he could not feel anything which would suggest there was a heartbeat. He lowered his head down slightly to see if he could feel or hear Finley breathing, but alas the result was once more negative. Something was
not right, and although Galdrac tried to think of a rational explanation, he could not come up with one.

  Galdrac felt the wind on his ageing face as he turned to see Arach flapping his wings and landing nearby. He looked down at Finley and up at the dragon, the link must still exist for one of them to still be alive. Thinking quickly he reached into Finley’s shirt where he knew the youngster wore the chain holding the Dragon Stone. Still set in the ring as he had found it in the cave, he tentatively reached out a finger and touched it. If the power of the stone still existed, it would surely burn him as it did before. This was something crafted by the Gods and contained magic beyond his reckoning, but yet he was surprised by the result of him making contact with it. No longer did the stone give him a burning sensation, but an image in his mind.

  Were the Gods trying to give him a clue as to what he should do? It would certainly make things easier if they just swirled down to the earth and told him, yet the seed had now been planted. The image was of a place he knew, a place out in the Elven lands now tainted by the Darkness, yet stood out as an oasis of life within them. “We need to get him to Beseklin,” he said to the others all stood watching him. A picture of a small stone column standing in a dark basement room provoked memories of a place he had visited not so long ago. With a small community of Elves being kept alive by some strange godly power being emitted from the stone. Thought to be the work of the Elven Goddess Heralin, Galdrac assumed this life-giving source could help Finley.