Death Or Fortune

by James Chesney

  The four of us stood outside of the gate, looking at all the grave markers. Dozens of stones marked the resting place of all the clerics who maintained the temple since it was built. Each one was a simple white stone, engraved with the name of the cleric and which clan they came from. We all looked to Michaels as we all waited for him to lead the way. As he reached out his hand paused just over the gate, perhaps he was waiting for an invitation or some kind of sign. It wasn't until he put his hand on the gate that the sign came. He had started to pull the gate open when an explosion of fire could be heard and felt from above. 'Wow! Close the gate, see if it goes out.' Michaels looked at Pare with an annoyed look on his face but I thought for a moment he had considered it. It was then that we heard the scream from inside the temple. 'That was a woman!' Michaels said as he flung open the gate and charged up the path. We were all behind him, moving as fast as we could. When Michaels threw open the temple doors, the muted screams came to life with a vivid clarity. 'Why!' she was screaming.

  Three of us started towards the sound, Michaels however just stopped cold. His eyes were locked on the doors that lead to the main temple area that contained the altar. I called out to him as Pare and Ebbit continued on, following the sound of the screaming. He just waved his hand at me. He took a single step forward towards those doors as I turned away to follow the others. I saw Pare and Ebbit ahead of me, at the end of the hall, they were stopped in the door way. I ran down to them as fast as I could. It was the temples kitchen and dining room. I saw the elf woman, standing there screaming at my friend and mentor. Windfall was sitting on a bench, his eyes fixed on the body on the floor in front of him. I pushed past the dwarf and halfling, calling out to him. He turned his head towards me, I could see tears were running down his face. The elf woman looked at me and tried to compose herself. From her cleric robes I assumed that this was Kandella. 'Who are you?' she asked. I told her that my name was Darmot Kromwell and that I had been sent by Bishop Hans to save her. 'The lord Kromwell? Why would he send you of all people?'

  It was a question I had no answer for. I could only shake my head at her. I then moved to Windfall and got down on my knees in front of him. I tried to ignore the ghastly sight of the man on the floor with his head nearly twisted all the way around. I could see my friend’s eyes were open but he wasn't there. I put my hands on his face and called out to him. Telling him to talk to me. 'I ended it. It is finished. My life is now my own. They will be safe now.' Dropping my hands to his shoulders I gave him a little shake, telling him to snap out of it, asking him to tell me what had happened. 'Why don't I feel any different?' I saw the cat out of the corner of my eye but I never thought anything of it. I turned to Kandella, asking her what had happened, who was the man on the floor? 'That is Argon.' I was shocked and everything else she said to me was lost in a haze. I looked at the man on the floor. While his body was face down, I could see his face. The resemblance was there, both to Windfall and Zender. If I didn't know better, he could have been Zender's father. The cat was on the floor next to the body, pawing at something, some kind of cord that was around the dead wizard’s neck.

  I couldn't afford to have Windfall like this so I did the first thing that came to mind. Sliding the metal gauntlet off my hand, I let it drop to the floor before I pulled him up to his feet. While he stood up for me, he was still off. I shouted his name one last time before I put my own life on the line. I held him with one hand and I then smacked him with my bare hand. 'Ohhhh!' the elf woman sighed as the sound of my hand hitting him filled the room. I watched as his head rocked back, a small trace of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth. A clear red imprint of my hand now stained his face. I saw the spark of anger in his eye as he looked at me, 'if you were anyone else.' I let my hand fall that was holding him, 'thank you' was all he said to me. 'Hey, can I try that?' Pare asked from the other side of the room. We both turned to look at the halfling, he only shrugged at us. 'I had to ask.' Ebbit only nodded at his friend and waited. Windfall then told us his story, of how he chased down the Orc commander on the farm, his run in with the wagon on the road and what had happened. All the while, the strange orange cat continued to work the cord over the head of the dead wizard.

  'I expected to feel something when he died. The curse lifting, fifty years coming back to me all at once. Yet nothing happened, I feel just the same. I still carry the curse.' Kandella was still in some kind of distress but kept her cool while we talked. When Windfall was finished I turned to her and asked her if she was ok, asked her why she was screaming. 'He was the only thing keeping those Orcs from running wild over the island. When the Flame of Hope re lit, I knew we were in danger.' I asked her what she meant by that. 'The giant cauldron of flame at the top of the tower! Did you not see it? The flame would not burn with him in the temple, last time he left the temple was to show me his army. He wanted me to see it, to see how well they responded to his conditioning. They will gather on the Plain of Hope. If he is not there to command them, they will know something happened to him. They will follow his final order.' I asked her then what that order was. 'They are going to march to the south half of the island and slaughter every living creature they can find. When that is completed, they are to kill those slaves that are still building their ships and set sail for Eystlund. They will burn the entire island from one end to the other.'

  'Hey, what is that cat doing with that huge gem?' I looked at Pare then to the cat. It had managed to free the cord from the neck of the wizard and at the end of the cord was a diamond about the size of my fist. It was holding the gem between its front paws, licking one side of it. The five of us were transfixed on the cat now; a strange wisp of light was drifting from the stone. It was then that the cat spoke, saying a single word. 'Home!' Blinding light rushed from the gem. When we could see again, both the cat and the body of Argon were gone. 'NO!' was the only sound in the room, Windfall had seen what it was too late. 'He isn't dead! That is why I didn't feel any change. His soul was still here, on this plane.' I looked at my friend and mentor. I could see the pain on his face but to tell the truth I was more than a little lost. I told him I was sorry but we had bigger problems at the moment. Such as the fact that the entire Orc army was going to march on us. I asked Kandella how long it took for the army to arrive the last time the flame was lit. 'Two days is all it took, if that. He had me bound and gagged but I saw them marching in, we should hear the horns of war soon. There are lookout posts all over the north side of the island. Their only job is to watch for the flame.'

  We did not have long but it was more than enough time. We still had the mission to think about. We also had to warn the others, tell them that the plan had changed. I asked Windfall how long it took him to reach the tower on foot? 'I walked the rest of the night after I killed the Orc commander, about an hour before the sun came up I was passed by the second company headed to the farm. It wasn't more than an hour or two after that. If they push, they can be here in eight hours.' It was then that I asked Ebbit if he thought he could handle one of the horses by himself. He squinted at and just shook his head. 'Why ya always trying to get rid of me lad?' I told him that wasn't the case but I needed him to go just the same. He was to tell Bryce to bring the Dead Squad and himself. They were to tell the Melkor people to get ready for an all-out war should we fail. Tell them that they should run and hide. 'I'll be back before ya know it, find the pup some water will ya. I know he will be wanting some.' I told him I would do so as I followed him back outside to help him get back up on the horse. 'Hey pup, you follow Darmot for a bit, I will be back soon.' He then reached down and patted the top of the wolf's head. I helped him adjust the saddle so he could ride. 'Don't start the fight without me lad!' he shouted out as he rode away. That was the last time I saw Ebbit alive.

  92. The Hammer and Axe

  "Wow! Close the gate, see if it goes out!" Pare said as the Flame of Hope re-ignited. Michaels had more than enough of the halfling for the day. His constant prattle was getting on his last nerve. T
his is a sign, he thought to himself. He was where he belonged after all this time. His constant search was over and he knew the moment he set foot inside the gate. While Michaels was born and raised in Arcadia it never felt like his true home. He was about to tell his friends this when the woman's voice could be heard shouting from inside the temple.

  "That was a woman!" he told his friends as he started to run up the path. He could see the grave markers out of the corner of his eye as he ran. The closer he got to the temple doors, the more at home he felt. When he put his hand on the door itself though, something strange came over him. He remembered something from his youth. He was running home for dinner, the sun was just about to set. He remembered finding his mother sitting on the floor of their modest home. Dinner was on the table, she had a pan of sweet bread in her hand but the pan itself was resting on the floor. She had a blank look on her face, as Michaels got close to her, she rolled back. Her head made a sick thump as it hit the floor. Shaking his head of the vision, Michaels pulled open the temple door. He could hear the woman shouting in the distance but his eyes were drawn to the doors to the main temple. Standing there in the vestibule, he could see a glow coming from the doors.

  "Michaels!" Darmot called out to him. For a small moment, the glow started to fade. Duty called him, yet there was something more here. Something else he had to do. He waved his hand at his friend, his only good friend and told him to go on. Keeping his eyes locked on the door he waited for the sounds of running feet to fade. The glow of the door brightened, drawing him forward even more. Taking a single step, he was once again a child, seeing his mother on the floor. Her heart had stopped working that day. That was all that the healers could tell him and his father. The last time he saw his own father was at the age of ten, telling him that he was a man now. It was time for him to take care of himself. It is time for you to grow up Andrew he had told him. Shaking his head again, the vision was gone. He could not remember the last time anyone had called him by his first name. The door to the main temple was now fully illuminated. As if the light was streaming from the wood itself. As he reached out to touch the doors, he could hear the voices from inside. Singing the songs of their god, singing songs of hope and redemption.

  Tears of joy streamed down his face as he opened the doors and walked into the light. There wasn't a single space to be seen in any of the pews. A full house, each man and woman robed in white singing the praises of their lord. The very stone of the temple shook with the power of their voices. Each step Michaels took was more confident than the one before. He strode towards the altar were a man was waiting for him. He stood there holding his hands out, leading the faithful in song. His robes were white and marked with silver trim. He was the leader of this church, he was waiting for Michaels. Standing at the foot of the sanctuary, looking up at the man standing before the altar Michaels went to his knees he was so overwhelmed with joy. With his chin pressed down to his chest, he said a silent prayer to his god, thanking him for showing him the way home.

  "The path is open for you my son. Go forth and do my bidding. We are waiting for you." Michaels looked up to the man at the altar once again. With a single nod of his head, the old man pointed to the right, a single door stood open to for him. Michaels put his head down one last time before he got to his feet again. The very walls and floors of the temple were vibrating in time with the song of the congregation, almost as if the temple itself was trying to sing along. As Michaels entered the open door he saw the stairs going down to the tombs below. He was not concerned when the door closed behind him. Cutting him off from the light and song from above. He just kept going down the stairs, he needed no light. He knew the way as if he had made this walk a hundred times before. When the stairs ended, he could see light at the end of the hall. As he walked, he noticed the coffins that lined the walls. These were the first of the chosen ones, the protectors of the temple. It wasn't until they ran out of room down here did they start to bury the ones outside. On one side were the Othos, the Melkor lined the other. As Michaels reached the end of the hall, he found himself in a large room bathed in a strange blue light.

  A single sarcophagus stood in the center of the room. Engraved on the side was the name Keltor. Resting on top of the sarcophagus was a single item, a large silver hammer. It had a long shaft, it would require two hands to use he thought. The head was made of pure silver. The image of a dragon was etched into the face of the head. At the other end of the shaft was a silver fist. He had read the tale a hundred times while they were on the ship and he knew what it was that he was looking at. Solarths Fist, the weapon that was given to Keltor the Peacebringer to end the war between the gods chosen people. Michael’s eyes studied the weapon from one end to the other. Yet he would not touch it with his hands. I have no right to this, I am not worthy of this honor. He was about to turn away when he saw that he was no longer alone in the room. A human, no more than thirty years of age stood before him. White robes covered the armor he wore. It wasn't until Michaels shifted did he notice the person was more spectral than solid.

  "Who is to say you are not worthy? You are a true believer and you came not for yourself but for the need of others. Most of all, you came with love in your heart. Not for yourself but for the ones around you that you call your friends."

  "Even the halfling?" Michaels asked the man.

  "Yes, even the halfling. Your relationships with the ones around you are pure. If any of this was in doubt, you would not be standing here."

  "What do I do now?"

  "You take the gifts that have been given to you. You use them in the best way you know how. Have faith and you will know what to do." Michaels looked at the strange spirit and wondered just who it was that he was talking to. His eyes were then drawn to the hammer, inspecting it from afar one final time before he reached out to take it.

  "There is no turning around after this is there?" Michaels asked. Yet when he turned to look at the spirit, it was no longer with him. "So it must be." he said to no one at all. He reached out with one hand and grasped the shaft under the head. "Solarth, give me the strength to use this wisely." As he started to lift, he felt it resist for a small moment. Perhaps it was only in his mind. With one hand on the weapon he lifted up and held the gleaming head in front of his face. As he held the weapon there, he could see his face reflected back at him. Looking into his eyes, he felt the change come over him. The darkness that had been around him was gone, the doubt he had in himself and his fellows was gone as well. Peace had once again found its way into the heart of the troubled paladin. When he turned to leave the tomb, another feeling came over him. This was only a loan, while he was given this gift; he knew it was meant for another.

  “Very well then, I shall return this when I can. You may keep Vindex until I return." Reaching over his shoulder, Michaels removed the massive two handed blade from his back. It had served him well over the past year. Laying it on the floor next to the sarcophagus with care, Michaels stood up and turned to leave. "Duty now calls! Farewell spirit." With that said, Michaels marched out of the room. Back up the stairs and out of the main temple. The pews were empty and the man leading the choir was gone as well. Michaels knew they were never there to begin with. They were just the signs he needed to return to the proper path. The value of darkness was lifted, his course was clear. When he closed the main temple doors behind him, he saw his friend Darmot in the vestibule. He wanted to tell him of what he had seen, what he had experienced. Yet in the end all he could do was smile at his friend. When that smile was returned, what had passed, no longer mattered.

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  "Don't start the fight without me lad!" Ebbit shouted as he rode away from his new friend. The dwarf didn't warm up to most folks but these humans were ok by him. They understood the meaning of honor and duty. Sometimes, honor is all a dwarf has to call his own. His home land was taken from him, long before he was born. Yet it was something the entire clan still felt the st
ing of. Blasted Orc he thought while flying down the road. The old mountain clan had fallen apart. Only a few of the families left still clung together. Ebbit believed that if something wasn't done soon, they would never reclaim their homeland. It would forever be marked on the human maps as Orcenhome. Just thinking of that name made the dwarf sick to his stomach. It was a pain that no amount of ale would dull. Ebbit wondered if they would ever try to recapture their home or just continue to swallow the bitter taste of failure.

  "Whoa! I said whoa ya big beast!" Ebbit shouted to the horse while madly pulling on the reigns. So lost in thought he had almost ridden by the broken down wagon without stopping. While the dead Orc captain was still there rotting in the sun. The one they had left tied up was gone. Ebbit was afraid to get down from the horse as he needed help getting up there in the first place. He took a quick look around the wagon. On the west side of the road he saw the rope bundles. He had been tied up by Windfall before and Ebbit couldn't believe anyone could get out of that without some kind of help. "Yer lucky I have bigger logs to cut or I'd track ya down right now!" Taking a quick look at the dusty road, he couldn't see any tracks. He must have run through the grass the dwarf thought. "Ok, let’s go." the dwarf said as he once again got the horse back up to top riding speed. Ebbit never saw the scared eyes watching him from the tall grass, the eyes filled with pain and hatred.