by Jason Jones
“He says that he has fought giants, snowpanthers, cannibals, dragons, and many a man and beast to get here. He says he done seen Mudren Sheldathain to rest, deep under Kakisteele. Ye’ all be here, cuz ye’ have faith in what he and his friends was doin’, faith sometimes he did not even have himself then.” Tannek choked up a bit, but still listened close and repeated what he heard from the whispering lips of Zen.
“He says to tell ye’ that he made an exodus, to a place that was not supposed to be, through lands they said he could not pass, with friends he never knew he had, and done killed an immortal demoness that they said could not be killed. The curse that could not be undone, is gone. And if anyone here thinks they cannot battle to see his closest friends freed, if ye’ think we cannot win, by Vundren, the road back to yer homes, is east.” Tannek took another breath, hearing the last words come out, soft and clear, to his ear alone.
“He says he goes to fight for his friends, ones that was there with him the entire journey, ones that he could not o’ made it here without. Me king will go in alone, for lady Shinayne, and Sir James, and Gwenneth, and Saberrak Agrannar, and he says he will fight with all he has. He thanks ye’ all for bein here, but he cannot leave them to some terrible fate, not while he done has strength left in him.” Tannek lowered his head.
Then all eyes went from Zen and Tannek, to Lord Cristoff.
Alden, give me a sign, something. Our heroes are in there, captured by wicked men that outnumber us more than three to one. I do not know the terrain, our people are tired, yet I will charge in and die, if it is what you require of me Lord. Please, send me signs, tell me what to do, anything.
He heard the screams of Rosana giving birth, he heard Garret praying loudly.
“That’s it Savanno, come now. Push Rosana, Savanno wishes to come into this world. He is strong, I can tell already, push now, good, rest.”
Cristoff smiled as the trickle of sunlight shone over her tent.
There is one.
Cristoff looked to his left, past the beam of sunlight battling the gray clouds, and saw another light. It was white, floating, not one minute away. It was the sword, Loestiri, and fifty armed elven priests of Siril following it. It was headed right for them, humming and floating, and glowing bright.
There is two.
Lord Bradswellen looked right, the thunder was close, right over a foothill, and then he saw. Five hundred cavalry roared over the hill on Shanadorian stallions, no banners, no flags, but he knew the man leading them. He saw the greatsword raise and point to him, then five hundred lances and blades rose after, Sir Jardayne of Highmont roared a battle cry and charged toward them with the cavalry of Evermont.
That would be three, thank you Alden, watch over us all, amen.
He made the sign of the feathered cross on his chest, drew his blade, and raised it high.
“Soldiers of Harlaheim, Freemoore, of Marlennak, of Tintasarn, and of Evermont…we march on the city of Mooncrest against the legions of Armondeen! All forces, ready for battle!”
“Vuumber!” Yelled the dwarves as they marched with their new king.
“Arah!” Shouted the elves following the dancing and hovering blade.
“Hail!” Yelled the human men as they massed into the west on foot and on horse.
Cristoff nodded to Zen with a smile and a salute, the nod was returned. The dwarves opened the stone container atop the wagon, pulling out ancient plate armor, a crowned helm, and an axehammer. All made of some polished gold, covered in crescent moons, and they quickly began dressing their king for battle, in the once armor of Mudren Sheldathain, once King of Kakisteele.
Cristoff walked toward the screams and labored breaths of Rosana.
“My queen, I have to go.” Cristoff stepped in the tent and looked to the priest.
“If I must break my promise to her and my son, and not return, will you watch over them in my stead, father Garret?”
“It would be an honor, Cristoff.” Garret nodded, hands covered in blood.
“No, do not leave me, no Cristoff, not now.” Her words were weak, she was covered in sweat, the baby still had not come.
“Brunnwik, Garret, please see my son Savanno, safely into this world with his mother.” Cristoff sighed, kissed Rosana on the forehead, and nodded to Garret as he let her hand tug and fall.
“Drodunn, I need you on the field of battle.”
The tent flaps opened, allowing a tremendous noise of armored men and horse to issue in. The armies were moving, yet two elves stepped forward and bowed to Cristoff, their blades sheathed behind gray robes.
“My lord, Arylius sends us to assist in the birth of your son. We are priests of Siril, as long as you are not offended, we may be of help.”
“I have Alden there, Vundren here, by all means. If Siril’s priests offer, we will take all the help we can get at this moment.” Cristoff nodded, four priests of three different religions and races, each took places of prayer and attention around Rosana.
“Go, Cristoff, I will not fail in my duties, Alden willing. Please, do not fail in yours.” Garret nodded, knowing at this moment, Cristoff would likely stay in the tent, had he time to think.
“Farewell, I shall see you on my return, and I pray we will walk with Savanno in the streets of a new kingdom, together.” Cristoff heard her pleas and cries, he could only imagine her pain, but he had an army to lead. He had brave heroes to save, and he knew where he belonged.
“Hail, hail, hail!”
The chant was overwhelming as he walked out the tent. It shocked him to a wide eyed stare. His white mare was ready, and his squire helped him up as he gazed across the army. Cristoff looked down to five hundred dwarven warriors in red and black, their beards still as they waited with Drodunn and Tannek Anduvann. Then to five hundred Evermont cavalry in their armor and shans, blond haired big men ready for battle behind Sir Jardayne and Sir Codaius.
His eyes looked to Leonard and Karai from the Order of Saint Tarumin, leading their five hundred Harlian forces. Kaya was mounted and armored to his right, the elves with the floating sword were with Aariss and Arylius Diravas to his left. Julia Whiteblade had a circle of men around the caravan, knowing someone had to remain to protect it and its nine thousand refugees. He saw no lewirja, no Angeline, but he had no time to search for anyone.
Just as Cristoff went to speak, Azenairk Thalanaxe walked forward next to him, in his full golden battle plate and crown, and with the matching crescent moon shield, and then raised his golden hammeraxe high. Every soldier fell to a knee, and every man on horse bowed their heads.
“Vuumber”
“Vuumber”
“Vuumber!”
They all yelled, the dwarves first, but the chant was taken up by all present.
“I could not have said it better, your highness.” Cristoff bowed to Zen, and drew his blade.
“Forces of Mooncrest, of Kakisteele, and of Tintasarn, by order of King Azenairk Thalanaxe, Charge!”
Hunters IV:IV
Temple of the Whitemoon
West of Mooncrest
Bryant Salganat did not notice his surroundings deep in the earth, mystical as they were. He barely opened his eyes, and when he did, all he saw was the tearing eyes of a small winged woman that caressed his forehead as she sang to him in a language he did not understand. Clean, healed, and somehow fed without memory of eating, Bryant felt fine of body. It was his heart that was in pain now. He was alone, in the dark sanctum of mourning, and all he knew was dead and gone.
Liogan had not left the chambers, not once, feeling that his prince needed him. For what, he did not know, but he stayed. Small goblyns came and went, as did a white horse with a horn growing out of its head in a majestic spiral. Golden minotaurs walked back and forth in silent curiosity. A cyclops had even passed by in the underground sanctum of the temple. Liogan paid them little more than a nod, and found it odd that he, a human, was the center of attention here. Everything seemed to move, and all that moved watched him and
Prince Bryant with curious eyes.
“Your majesty, please. Come outside, some fresh air will do you good.” Liogan Andellis looked down to the prince of Chazzrynn. He had not stopped sobbing for many, many hours. Ever since she had told him.
“Bryant will be staying with me, Sir Liogan. His heart is broken, in so many ways, he needs the love of a woman, a mother. You humans know suffering in your short lives like no other being.” Princess Ramaya-nun, the red haired petit fairy that she was, spoke with authoritative power and truth to her words.
“Accepting the death of a loved one, is not something he may resolve in short time.”
“But we do not know he is dead, we are not…” Liogan hung his head, he had heard, like they all did, upon leaving Valhirst in the night. Victory cheers for Johnas Valhera could only have meant one thing.
“I wish Lavress was here.”
“We all have a road, a path, guided by Seirena. Wishing for things to not be as they are, goes against the will of the Mother, young Liogan.” Niastae, the sphinx and priestess of the temple, smiled as she rested by sacred vines and ivory flowers next to the throne.
“Still, he always knows what to do next, what to say, where to…” Liogan quieted as Bryant sobbed more and buried his head in the leaves and vines that grew from the temple walls.
“Lavress is not here, Liogan. And there are no words that will comfort Bryant. He has lost his kingdom, his future, and his father. He is far away from his home, and in great pain.” Ramaya-nun stroked Bryant’s hair.
The young knight of Southwind sighed. He was refreshed, the bolt gone from his ribs, and he had survived where he should not have. He knew it, even at his few seasons of life, he knew that him even breathing now, either of them, was miraculous.
“Where are we, anyway?”
“I have never been here before, never seen those golden minotaurs nor the kithian. So, we must be either outside of the ruined kingdom of the Crescent Moon, or on another continent. I have been to six of the seven Temples of the Whitemoon on Agara, all held by my sisters. Yet the one outside of Mooncrest is forbidden. It is protected fiercely, as the ruins around it are cursed.” The fairy princess tried to feel for something around the temple, she sensed no curse, and her mind wandered to where they could be.
“So we are lost then?” Liogan stated as much as asked.
“No, we will find where Lavress took us. It is unknown for any other than one of my sisters or myself to have the heart to close the doors and move a temple to another sacred site. Whatever he was feeling, that will hold the key to where we are now. Lavress Tilaniun should be dead, for the force of such love needed is beyond what---“ Ramaya-nun looked up as the savage wood elf hunter stepped inside and bowed.
“I should have been dead many times, princess, yet Seirena must greatly wish me to remain in the Hedim Anah.” Lavress lifted up his eyes to hers, then to Bryant Salganat, and then to Liogan Andellis.
“Liogan, we must go.”
“Where are we, brave hunter that can move temples with his love for another?” Ramaya-nun had not thought much of Lavress, feeling him too quiet and too bold for her tastes, but now she held him in great esteem. Something in her stirred. No mortal had the heart and love to move a temple, she wanted him long enough to find out how he was able, what secrets were in his mighty heart.
“Near Shinayne T’Sarrin, I can feel it. A kithian, named Ihros Seeing-owl, says we are indeed outside of the ruins of Mooncrest and Tintasarn. I met him just now. Yet, something has changed.” Lavress took his bow, Bedesh’s bow, and then the quiver of green striped hawk flights. He tried to remain calm.
“He says he hunts the banshee, dangerous dead spirits, but now they are gone. He told me the storm of the dark gods is no more, the curse that holds this place has vanished.”
“Those things you say, they sound wonderful indeed. So why are you feeling that stress and fear, Lavress?” She felt it, he was leaving to go to her, and she was indeed close. Ramaya-nun wanted him more now, that devotion, the purity in him.
“The kithian said he met Shinayne, my princess, not five days past. She…she was headed..into...I hear her song now, I must go.” Lavress felt and heard his beloved, in great pain, and the song she sang was not pleasant. By sound and words, yes, but it was the Vytha Vahann. She was placing memory to song, in ancient elven words, the memory of someone who had died.
“I hear nothing, are you sure?” The fairy looked with one eyebrow raised toward the hunter from Gualidura.
“I am certain blessed child of the Mother, I am. I must go, with your blessing, or without. Liogan, come quick.”
Lavress had not the time for her questions. Something else was not right, he had heard a name in Shinayne’s song, Gwenneth. Yet, Shinayne was still singing, he could feel it more than hear it, yet she should have stopped with the mention of the name. Something was not right.
“Liogan, perhaps you would stay with your prince?” Ramaya-nun felt it in her heart, the beating pulse of Lavress. Her emotions took over, her hair twirled in the air, from breezes that did not exist.
“I..uhh..perhaps Lavress, I …uhhhmmm…I mean…” His mind was confused, he saw dancing lights, small ones, everywhere.
“Stop, princess of the fey. He comes with me, by order of the Hedim Anah. I do not warrant your tricks.” Lavress stared at her, unmoved by the glamers, and met her ever-changing eyes. Ramaya-nun grew taller, nearly twice her size, and her beauty grew even more.
“If you wish to see your future king, Bryant here, again…I would ask that you stay, Liogan.” She smiled, creatures of all sorts of flitting size fell in love as they neared her, and fell to torment when they passed by.
“Do not do this, not now. I need him, and I must go. Play your games another time, princess. My heart belongs to Shinayne, and you may threaten all you like, but what she and I have cannot be stolen or held hostage.” Lavress grabbed Liogan by the shoulder and walked him up and out of the cavern.
“Where…where are we…but I need to…wha? She wants me to stay, she needs me, Lavress…” Liogan stumbled along, unable to take his eyes from the beautiful radiance of fair skin and crimson hair that the fairy princess had changed into.
“No. She wants me, my heart that moved the temple, my heart that loves another. She is jealousy, the embodiment of envy and truth, and she wants to soothe her eternal loneliness with others. We go.” Lavress bowed as he stalked out, feeling time was short, but for what he did not know.
“Should you return, I will not be here, and nor will the prince you saved.” Ramaya-nun stood, tears of gold washing down her perfect face as she shrunk back to her petit frame.
“That threat, to anyone else, may have results. But I know you would never harm nor take him.”
“Stay then, with me, let the world fade.” Ramaya-nun glared. “Surely this elf you seek, is not as me. Mortal love cannot compare to the immortal.”
“Then you do not know Shinayne and I.”
Ramaya-nun gave in, her charms had failed, his love was something of legend to be beyond her powers. She wanted it, craved it, yet to let it die would be worse than not having it for herself.
“Go then. I have seen it, she will perish by the blade. That song she sings, it is for herself.” All her tricks disappeared, her powers dwindled, and she looked to Lavress with the eyes of truth.
Without a word, just meeting the eyes of the princess on honest ground, sent him into a run out of the sacred temple. Lavress felt fear, though he would not say, and he could not deny that he felt Shinayne was in mortal danger. Her heart was beating fast, something struck her, and he winced. Her song started again, indeed telling her own life story in the ancient elven dialects, as if she was preparing to die. Lavress ran faster than he thought he could.
Liogan looked back once, to his prince and the princess of the fey that had saved them, and then he ran behind Lavress, behind his only friend. As they cleared the temple, a unicorn ran past them into the sparse forest. Then golden mi
notaurs stood up and bowed to Lavress and Liogan. They did not stop to greet them, just kept their pace east and south.
Lavress ran faster still, seeing wolves sit up, some on four legs, and hiroon wolf lords that stood on two. They howled, and many more howled in the distance. Birds sang quick melodies to the gray sky from the trees, and Ihros Seeing-owl was now beside them. Suddenly the forest broke into an open rocky valley, and a bronze domed palace was before them not one mile ahead. Running behind Lavress were half the beings of the temple, every fey race and creed.
“What is this place?” Lavress asked Ihros. He gazed across a city built into a crescent shape, between and into the peaks of sandstone mountains, a marvelous ruin it was to view from this western vantage. They reached the wall on the wetern side of the ruins, all abandoned.
The kithian knelt down next to the legendary hunter of the Hedim Anah, the one they said moved the temple. “It is Mooncrest, cursed for thousands of years, now open and alive. Look.”
Lavress and Liogan followed his finger, pointing to a faint trickle of green starting to bloom far to the south, on the trees in the city. “The mines of Kakisteele lie inside those mountains, and Tintasarn is on the other side of them.”
They all looked left, to the north, seeing thousands of soldiers near an outpost just outside the city. A single beam of light was shining through the gray into the east over the hills. Then Lavress heard it again, Shinayne’s song. He looked, it was coming from a ring of temples, and through the ruined walls of the palace and an auditorium, he could see people gathered. Without a word, he ran. The hunter ran into the ruins, keeping to the shadows of the palace, over a bridge and into the city. He looked over his shoulder and his eyes went wide.
Behind him was not just Liogan Andellis and the one eyed cyclops guardian of the temple. There were a handful of wolves, three hiroon, birds, deer, and two golden skinned minotaurs. Suddenly Loestal river elves with bows appeared as well. They all huddled close, made no noise, and waited for Lavress Tilaniun.
