The Bane of Karrak_Ascension II of III

by Robert J Marsters

  Faylore managed a weak smile as she shook her head but her sister did not hear Lodren’s repeated question as she knelt, staring deep into the ground.

  Wilf placed Koloss on the ground and began to shrink as he headed toward Lodren. “It’s a shame, it ain’t fair! Look at ’em Grubb. Their little hearts are broken an’ there’s nothin’ we can say to ’em to ’elp.”

  “Give them time, Grubb. That’s all that can help them, I’m afraid. Time, and being there when they need you,” replied Lodren.

  “But look at ’em, they don’t need us,” insisted Grubb, becoming more upset.

  “Not right now they don’t, Grubb, but they will eventually, and we will be there for them when that time comes. Just you wait and see,” replied Lodren, placing his arm around his friend’s shoulders.

  The solemn procession continued without queen or princess eating so much as a morsel or taking a sip of water. As the day drew to a close, they exited the hall of history to face the heartbroken Erenthas, and the devastated people of Thedar.

  Koloss was buried two days later in a traditional Thedarian ceremony. Lodren and Grubb were relieved to see that Faylore and Jendilomin were beginning the healing process after the loss of their father.

  “The one thing I don’t understand is why they put him back in the ground,” said Grubb. “If that was the plan all along, why didn’t we just leave ’im in the halls where we found ’im?”

  “We brought him back so that his people could say their farewells. You don’t leave the body of a king where you found it, you dope.”

  “They could’ve gone down there to say ‘bye. It was a lot less cramped ‘n’ all.”

  “It’s the way the Thedarians do things, Grubb, and that’s all that matters. Stop going on about it, it’s done now.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so and Faylore and… ’ang on a minute, can you see what I can see?”

  “I’d have to be blind not to. What is he doing here? I thought they never left their home!”

  Even if he were blind, Lodren would have felt the ground tremors as the impressive dragon, Thelwynn made his way toward them. Lodren and Grubb were delighted to see him and waved frantically as they ran toward him.

  “Thelwynn, over here. How lovely to see you. Fancy you visiting us here. To what do we owe the pleasure?” asked the excited Nibby.

  “’Opefully ’e realises what a real pain you are an’ ’e’s gonna sit on ye,” laughed Grubb.

  “I do wish that the purpose for my visit was a pleasant one. Alas, I bring grave news. Where might I find Queen Faylore? I must speak with her urgently.”

  “Whatever is the matter, Thelwynn? Are you alright? Are the rest of the dragons alright? Speak up!” urged Lodren, almost beside himself with worry.

  Word had spread rapidly about the arrival of a dragon, and before long, Faylore was seen approaching them. “My lord, Thelwynn. Welcome to Thedar. Please forgive me, we are in mourning for the loss of our father.”

  “News came to me of your father, Your Majesty. May I offer my sincere condolences?” said Thelwynn, bowing graciously. “But I am afraid that you must leave immediately, your friends are in grave danger. I have news. Karrak is preparing for his final attempt at domination. I heard the mountain’s breath. It says ‘the seconds are soon to meet’.”

  “What seconds? What does it mean?” asked Faylore.

  “I am unsure, my lady. It is difficult for me to translate into your words. All I know is that your friends need your aid. You must not tarry.”

  “Right!” announced Grubb. “Lodren? Up on me shoulders when I change, Faylore, you take the lead.”

  “I am afraid, Master Grubb, that even you would not be swift enough to reach your friends quickly enough. Even as your other persona,” breathed Thelwynn.

  “My other what?”

  “Your other… oh what’s the use? He means as Wilf,” snapped Lodren.

  “Why didn’t ’e just say that then?” replied Grubb, wobbling his head.

  “There is only one way for you to reach them, Your Majesty. You must ride upon my back,” announced Thelwynn.

  “My lord!” exclaimed Faylore, “I could never ask you to lower yourself to such a thing. You are a skylord, royalty of the clouds and as such, beneath such things. You are no mere beast. Thank you, but I cannot.”

  “Now we don’t want to insult him, Your Majesty. He volunteered after all, wouldn’t be offering if he didn’t want to do it,” babbled Lodren as he dashed about grabbing a few things he deemed essential. “We are his friends after all, and he obviously wants to help. Hurry up, Grubb, don’t dally.”

  “Lodren!” snapped Faylore, stopping the Nibby dead in his tracks, “You aren’t, perchance, accepting his offer simply because you want to ride on a dragon’s back, are you?”

  “Oooo… Your Majesty, how could you say such a thing? I can’t believe you’d think something like that about me. I mean… really!”

  Faylore folded her arms and stared at him, “It’s the truth though, isn’t it? You want to ride on a dragon’s back?”

  “Oh, yes, yes, yes, more than anything in the world. I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. They’re so beautiful, so majestic in the air as they soar and glide and swoop,” he replied, jigging up and down and dancing with excitement.

  “Lodren,” sighed Grubb, “yer such a pillock at times. Get yer stuff ready. We’re goin’ dragon flyin’!”

  CHAPTER 24

  Yello had joined Emnor and the others as they unrolled the scroll. They puzzled over its content as they attempted to interpret the meaning of the script.

  “It doesn’t actually tell you anything, does it?” said Hannock, scratching his head.

  “One becomes used to its meanings after a while, Captain. But I understand your confusion. The scroll is very old and not written as it would be now,” said Emnor.

  “To be precise,” added Yello, “It’s not actually ‘written’ at all.”

  “You mean the words magically appear by themselves?” laughed Hannock.

  “That’s exactly what they mean, Hannock,” said Jared.

  “It’s not important how the words appear. What is important is that we understand what it is suggesting. It is not a set of instructions, more hints as to what could transpire.”

  “Could?” asked Hannock. “So, whatever the scroll predicts can be changed?”

  “They are not predictions, Hannock. The scroll seems to evaluate the possibilities of all outcomes, and shows the most probable,” advised Emnor.

  “So it’s a ‘best guess’ thing then? Nothing set in stone, as it were?” asked Jared.

  “A crude way of describing it, but accurate all the same,” smiled Yello.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Start reading,” suggested Hannock.

  As the four studied the scroll, the words before them would change, occasionally shuffling themselves around the page or vanishing completely, only to be replaced by a different text a few seconds later. Just as something seemed to become clear, the words would shuffle once more and change their train of thought drastically.

  “Every time we seem to be getting somewhere, the bloody thing changes again!” exclaimed Hannock. “We’ll be here forever at this rate!”

  “Patience, my dear Captain, patience,” implored Emnor. “This happens every time. Give it a while and the words will settle. Once they do, they’ll give a hint as to our next possible course of action.”

  “Exactly! Possible course, we may as well burn the thing!” said Hannock. “Every step we take is hindered in some way. You’re always saying we must hurry, we don’t have time. Then we waste hours and sometimes days with useless crap like this!”

  “Hardly useless, Hannock,” said Jared. “It’s your impulsive nature, friend, to charge in, head down. Who knows? Studying the scroll for five minutes could save us days later.”

  “I hate sitting around whilst Karrak is up to who knows what, Jared. We should have found him by now.”

  �
�And we shall, and soon. But as Emnor said, you have to have patience.”

  “Oh dear,” muttered Emnor as he lifted the scroll suddenly. “That’s not good, not good at all.”

  “What is it, Emnor? What does it say?”

  “The meeting of the seconds is inevitable,” replied Emnor, almost in a whisper.

  “Then there’s to be some sort of duel? It’s the only time that one would require seconds,” suggested Hannock. “But a duel between whom? Jared and Karrak perhaps?”

  “I do not think that it is referring to seconds in a duel, Captain. I think it is something far more dangerous,” said Emnor. “Jared, could you answer a question for me?”

  “Anything, ask away,” replied Jared.

  “I know that Karrak was never married, but did he have any children you know about? A son, perhaps?”

  Jared paused. The intimate affairs of House Dunbar were not something that he was comfortable discussing, especially when it came to the indiscretions of his younger brother. He cleared his throat, but found that he could not look Emnor in the eye. “Erm… there were a couple of liaisons I am aware of, bar wenches to be truthful. I’m not proud of the fact, but I paid them well and relocated them. They would want for nothing in their new homes.”

  “Children, Jared. Were there any children?”

  “Both women were with child when they departed Borell, each claimed that Karrak was the father. I have no idea what became of them after that, it was open blackmail. All either of them wanted was to be paid and neither had designs on being involved with House Dunbar,” replied Jared.

  “Then I know what the scroll is suggesting,” announced Emnor. “The second son and the second son are destined to meet. Should they join forces, nothing and no one will be able to prevent their rise to power.”

  “You mean Karrak has a son?” snapped Hannock. “Jared! Why didn’t you tell me? We are the closest of friends. Surely…”

  “And you are captain of my father’s guard!” snapped Jared. “Do you really believe that I wanted to keep it from you? I was under strict instruction from my father. My loyalty to House Dunbar comes above all else, as does yours.”

  Emnor placed the scroll before Jared, “We must find Karrak, preferably before this meeting takes place. We alone must become the bane of Karrak.”

  ***

  Karrak haunted the halls of the great castle of Merrsdan. Undead guards stood around, motionless and devoid of all thought or emotion. He barely glanced at their rotting flesh as he drifted from room to room, his mind consumed by his hatred of all living things. His insanity had grown to the point where the only thing he cherished was The Elixian Soul. He would talk to it and stroke it as if it were a pet nestled in the chest plate of his armour.

  His perception of time, however, remained unaffected. He was enraged that Darooq was now overdue, as was his favourite torture victim, Barden. He could sense neither of them and concluded that, for now, they were far enough away to render them safe from his reach. Would Darooq attempt to flee? Did he believe that he would be able to travel far enough to elude his master, taking his new pet with him? No, Darooq was not that naïve. He would return soon with pathetic excuses for his delay, and this at least would give Karrak the reason to further torture his only loyal follower.

  ***

  The shadow lord tilted his head suddenly, he sensed something, something unknown to him, someone unknown to him. Slowly, he glided along the passageways, pausing occasionally to get a better sense of who he was about to face. There were two of them.

  Strangely, and for the first time, the shadow lord felt anxious. Why would he feel this way? Who could be powerful enough to unnerve the great Lord Karrak?

  Entering the courtyard, he saw no one, but he was getting close. He could sense their immense power. Why was there no commotion, why were the intruders not being attacked by his mindless guards? He had created them to protect his castle but they remained as immobile as they always were. He threw his hand up and one was instantly incinerated. Useless, he thought as he watched it burn and fall to the ground without a murmur or scream of pain. Only then did he see the intruders.

  At the far end of the courtyard stood two young men. They did not flee as he approached them, much to his surprise. They are little more than children, he thought. But by their attire, he could tell that they were wizards, one radiating a power that he knew could rival his own.

  Neither of the young men spoke as Karrak stood before them. One had a confident, almost arrogant look of disdain on his face, the other was oblivious to his surroundings.

  “So, this is how the world wishes to defeat me? An inexperienced child sent to face the destroyer of this world. Do your allies believe that I will take pity upon you, child? Do they think that I will allow you to live through this confrontation due to your lack of years? If that was their hope, I’m afraid that they were mistaken. My only concern is not whether to kill you both, but how.”

  Karrak laughed as he circled the two young wizards, leering at them in a vain attempt to intimidate them.

  “Come, boy!” he bellowed. “Do you have nothing to say before your execution?”

  The voice that replied was not spoken aloud, it was inside Karrak’s head.

  A deep threatening voice that resembled his own, “What would you have me say, shadow lord?”

  Karrak backed away in alarm. How could anyone enter his mind? He was not only powerful enough to prevent this, he was also still wearing the Order of Corrodin.

  “I know, what about this?”

  “HELLO FATHER!”