by Levi Samuel
“Understood, General.”
“Forgive me if I’m overstepping.” Ravion interjected. “But what’s the purpose of all this?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.” Kashien stated flatly, hoping the dalari nightking could elaborate.
“Judging by the map here, the dreualfar base is here?” Ravion paused, making sure his assessment was accurate.
“The bulk of their force, yes. They have several smaller units spread across the continent. But each time we locate one, they move before we can mount an assault.” One of the other captains declared.
“I see. Well, from an outside perspective, you’re wasting a fair amount of time watching and waiting for the enemy to come to you. You’re competing with their resources, which considering they keep moving and taking new territory, are constantly being renewed. If you continue to do what you’ve been doing, you’re eventually going to run out. When that happens, it’s only a matter of time before your army falls after a long and tiring wait.”
“What would you do to fix it?” Kashien asked, studying Ravion’s face. There was validity in his words and an outside perspective was greatly valued. He’d been fighting this war a few years now and hadn’t made much progress. In fact, the victories over the other generals had little to do with tactics and more to do with overwhelming numbers. But the humans were unlikely to come again. Once the threat in their homeland was reduced to a manageable level, they pulled out of the fight.
“Take the battle to them. I’ve been through a dreu war once already. We made the same mistakes you’re making now. We sat idle and waited for them to come to us. That works when you’re holding land or have no other options, especially when you’re trapped and have nowhere to go. But that also means failure results in the end of your people. If it were me, I’d recommend playing to your strengths. Attack in the open with your main force while smaller units make their way around the sides to flank. Once their main base is under siege, you simply form a perimeter guard, keep a fraction of your men out of the fight and ready for an unexpected counter attack. That way if their scattered units are recalled, you have someone ready to contend with them and you keep their reinforcements from grouping up. And at this stage in the game, they’re unlikely to suspect a change in tactics.”
“You make many valid points. Once we reach the new camp I want to discuss this further. Until then we stick to the current plan. Any other news or advice?”
“Two nights ago, my archers encountered a group near the ruins of Karabar. We were able to eliminate the threat, but we lost five men in the process. It seems the dreu were excavating the darkstone from the dwarven citadel there. We don’t think they’ve unlocked its mysteries, but they certainly have an interest in it” Captain Lawsen reported.
“I’ll reassign another twenty of our finest archers to your command, Captain. Lieutenant Roanin, you and your men are going to accompany Captain Lawsen to the Ruins of Karabar. I want you to defend those ruins at all cost. Whether the dreualfar have learned what darkstone can do or not, we can’t risk it falling into their hands. As far as I know, the Udurnie are the only ones that have the ability to work it. But breaking a stone into a single batch of arrow heads could prove detrimental in open combat. In fact, if you have the opportunity, I want you to blow up the entrance. Destroy any chance the dreualfar might have of using it as a weapon against us.” Kashien glanced around the room. “Demetrix, Ravion, I’ll ask you to hang around for a moment once we’re done here. Colonel Kaileen, would you be so kind as to hand select the men that will be reassigned?”
Kaileen bowed. “As you command, my prince.”
“You’re dismissed.”
The commanders filed out at once, resuming their conversations. The heavily armored dalari, Theo his name was, pulled a gold lined scroll from his belt pouch and unrolled it. The reflected sunlight made a large rectangle square on the ground. From the square, three other dalari appeared, dressed in heavy armors, much like their captain.
Demetrix turned from the retreating commanders, devoting his attention to Kashien. “You wanted to see us?”
“I did.” The dalari general fumbled with the icons marking the map for a brief moment before clearing them away and rolling the large parchment. “I understand neither of you truly belong here and at times that can make one feel unappreciated. In lieu of that, I wanted to personally express my gratitude. Demetrix, not long ago you saved a great many of my men, both by rescuing them from that infernal prison and guiding them back to me, and again when you found your way to us. Many had suffered the dangers of being too close to a battle beyond their understanding, myself included. You remedied that mistake. For that I’d like to offer you something you wouldn’t need had you not agreed to accompany my men in the first place.”
Kashien marched to the side wall of the enchanted tent and picked up a small chest. The wood was smooth and polished, removing any sign of a seam between the planks. The corners were trimmed and bound in gold, and the lock holding the lid closed had a blue glow to the flat plate, little wider than a thumb. Setting the box on the table, Kashien gestured to the younger dalari.
Demetrix fingered the masterfully crafted chest, unable to find a single flaw in its appearance. Working his way to the latch, hoping he didn’t seem too eager to find out what was inside, he pressed his thumb against the plate, unsure how it opened. The blue glow enveloped his thumb and he felt it spring free. Lifting the relatively light lid, he looked into the chest to see a new set of armor, folded and tucked neatly inside.
Pulling it from the container, he marveled how the entire suit fit inside. The design was similar to the armor he’d arrived in, but this was much better. Instead of a few large pieces layered together, there were several smaller pieces, allowing more articulation than he had before. The other notable difference was color. This armor was black, trimmed in a deep forest green. It was beautiful. Studying every detail, he noticed something impossible. The piece of leather he’d been working the past few days was stitched into place and perfectly formed to the rest of the armor. How had they used it when he’d left it in the tent not thirty minutes before? Unable to wait a moment longer, Demetrix pulled the armor around himself and began buckling it into place. It fit perfectly, as if it had been sized for him specifically.
“I apologize for not letting you know about it sooner. We were waiting for you to finish the piece you were working on, and I wanted it to be a surprise. The leather has been enchanted. It’s self-healing. If it gets cut, or gods forbid, an arrow punctures it, the leather will start to seal itself as if the damage was never there. Additionally, you’ll find that you move quieter and you’ll become less noticeable to enemy eyes while wearing it. But an archer is only as good as his bow.”
Kashien reached into the chest and retrieved a familiar piece of wood, wrapped in green sinew and brown leather. The bow that had been broken was reconstructed and waiting to be strung.
Demetrix studied his bow. It appeared as if it had never been touched. Every detail was perfect, matching the bow he had months prior, save for one. There was a presence he hadn’t felt before. A tear rolled down his cheek. Nothing could have made a better gift.
“I have a friend who wishes to speak with you.” Kashien gestured toward the door.
A cloaked figure stepped into the tent. The only detail that could be seen on the dark green fabric covering his armored form was a black sigil holding the cloak shut. It was circular in shape and had a single band encompassing the entire design that traveled around to make a series of orbs and triangles. It reminded Demetrix of a hedge maze.
“Demetrix Santail, your actions in life have not gone unnoticed. I’m here to offer you the greatest honor any archer can hope to obtain. I know now, you’re not ready. But when you are, fire this arrow into the sky. Follow it and where it lands, we shall meet again.”
Demetrix didn’t realize the armored hand was extending a single arrow until it was already within reach. Caut
iously, he accepted the missile and looked it over. The wood was smoked and polished. Not a single grain could be seen in the shaft. The arrow’s head was unlike any he’d seen before, and the fletching was solid, appearing to be made of some unidentifiable hide, rather than traditional feathers. Even the weight of the arrow was unlike any other. Looking up from the one of a kind shaft, the cloaked figure was gone, leaving the three to their solitude.
“He’s what they call a horator. Protectors of the forest. Extremely secretive and selective of their invitations.” Kashien responded, seeing the questions in the young dalari’s face. “For you, Ravion. While you’ve had your challenges in your time here, you also saved a great many of my men, though in a less than traditional manner. Every soldier you affected while in your dark trance has made a full and complete recovery. Even those that were fatally wounded or diseased. Somehow, beyond my understanding, you healed them. For that you have my gratitude.”
The dalari prince held out a jeweled amulet. The chain was a complex pattern of overlapping rings that seemed to pull against one another, yet defied understanding as none of them were actually connected to those immediately adjoining. The amulet itself was oval in shape. The stone, blue and wrapped in golden wire. Despite its complexity, it was relatively simple.
“You shall never have to look for your people again. With this amulet, you have but to ask and it will lead you to them.”
Ravion accepted the amulet, fingering it briefly before placing it around his next. “Thank you, My Lord.” He bowed gracefully.
Horns echoed outside, drawing the attention of all within earshot. The dalari assembled into formations, awaiting command.
Demetrix and Ravion made their way outside, seeing the entire army ready for travel. Turning back, the command tent fell to the ground and folded into a small, compressed box.
Kashien picked up the box and stuffed it into his pack. Approaching his horse, he secured the bag to his saddle and climbed up, pulling the reins free.
Chapter XIII
No Place Like Home
Demetrix’s backside was growing raw from the stiff saddle. He wasn’t used to being in one for such extended periods of time. The sun was rapidly falling on the horizon, leaving a dull orange glow on the world.
Suddenly, horns echoed from the front of the marching army and it began to halt.
Kashien squinted into the distance. “What the hell?” Spurring his horse into action, he fell out of line and charged past the slowing mass.
The remaining commanders, along with Ravion and Demetrix, followed after. There was a dark reflection blocking the path, bringing the forward units to a complete halt.
Reaching the front line, Kashien was amazed by the sights before him. What should have been a great marsh was now a great sea. The massive body of water stretched as far as the eye could see, disappearing into darkness long before the opposing shore came into view. Turning to face his men, Kashien dismounted, handing the reins of his horse to Trendal.
“Make camp. We rest here for the evening!” Marching around his steed, he reached into his pack and removed the small wooden box containing his tent.
“My Lord, is it wise to stay here? We’re on a collision course with the dreualfar.” Trendal reminded his prince.
“What would you have me do, Captain? We have no ships. And there’s nothing west but dessert. Even magic has its limits. Every caster among us would be long exhausted before we moved even half the troops, provided we could calculate the distance to the other side. Not to mention overloading the portals could potentially drop them into the middle of the ocean with no hope for a rescue. Like it or not, we’re grounded for the night. Establish a heavy watch on all perimeters. I don’t want a field mouse getting within archery range without us knowing about it.”
“Yes, Sir!” Trendal handed the reins to both his and Kashien’s horses to Kaileen and dismounted. Disappearing into the formations, he went to work establishing patrols.
The command tent exploded from the box and began to raise. Waiting for it to fully form, Kashien took the reins from Kaileen and tied them off to the attached hitching post. Opening the door flap, the tent was well illuminated and fully furnished. Stepping inside, he unrolled his map and began studying the unfamiliar terrain.
Demetrix climbed from his saddle, happy to be on his own feet again. Stepping toward the tent, he fell to his knees, clutching his head in pain. Images flashed through his mind. He saw Gareth, secured to a thick wooden post. The wood was stained red from what he guessed was blood. Gareth appeared in good health, aside from his obvious irritation. The fortification itself didn’t look familiar, but there was something in the image he could never mistake. The mountains towering far above the settlement, he’d seen them more times than he could count. The image shifted again. He was staring at an outstretched map. A dagger pierced the thick hide, erect from the table beneath it. The elegant, alfarian blade rested above inked blots on the parchment, reading Baron’s Fall. He guessed it was a human fortress. That was the only thing that made sense. He knew the site well, though the structure completely eluded him. A glowing blue orb appeared in his sight, though it wasn’t nearly as clear as the other things he’d seen. This one, the eldarstone, Kashien had called it, was blurry and seemingly out of place, like it was being recalled through a memory rather than actual sight. The image faded away, allowing him to stare into the churned sand beneath him.
Panting heavily, a booming voice echoed in his head, Gareth’s life for the stone. You know where we are. Be quick, he dies in one week!
Ravion jumped from his saddle, pulling his brother to his feet. “You alright?”
“No. They have Gareth. I need to speak with Kashien!” Demetrix rushed to the tent and stepped inside, finding the dalari prince leaning against the table, lost in thought.
Kashien had a compass resting atop the map. The roof of the magical tent was seemingly missing, revealing stars, freshly illuminated by the sun’s departure. Charts were scattered across the table, aligned to their overhead counterparts. Breaking his concentration, Kashien looked up finding Demetrix standing before him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Do you still have the eldarstone?”
“I do. But do you think it wise to tempt fate? These are forces beyond our understanding.”
“I’m aware of that. I have no intention of using it. Jorin’otth sent me a message. He has Gareth. Showed me where they are and told me I have a week to trade the stone or they’re going to kill him.”
“Jorin’otth? That’s the hydralfar responsible for the machine?”
“It is.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you the stone. It’s too powerful. I can’t risk it falling into their control.”
“What about Gareth?”
Ravion stepped into the tent, clearly confused by Demetrix’s outburst. “What’s going on? You said they have Gareth. Who has Gareth?”
“The dreualfar!” Demetrix stated, holding both conversations.
Kashien pushed himself off the table, reclaiming his weight. “Ravion, would you do me the favor of stepping out for a moment? Your brother and I are discussing something that could potentially lead you down a dark path and I’d like to avoid that if at all possible.”
“Um, okay, I guess.” Ravion turned and stepped through the door, taking position outside. Watching the units break from their formations into new, smaller groups, he waited to be invited back in.
“I’ll help you however I can with Gareth, but the stone must remain hidden. I’m sorry, but my decision is final. If we’re done discussing that infernal thing, are we okay to bring Ravion back in?”
“We are.”
Kashien approached the door and pulled the flap to the side. “Ravion, you’re free to join us?”
Ravion followed Kashien inside, taking position beside Demetrix.
“You said you know where they are. Is it on this map?” Kashien moved the star charts into a large pile, uncoveri
ng the terrain details.
Demetrix leaned over the table, staring intently at the thin lines and shaded detail. Finding the blip marked Baron’s Fall, he pointed. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Kashien, do you have a piece of charcoal?”
Kashien fumbled in a small drawer on the underside of the table. A moment later he returned with a thin, black stick. Handing it to Demetrix he watched, uncertain what the young dalari was going to do.
Demetrix placed the edge of the charcoal against the thick parchment and began dragging it across the large continent, creating a divide line.
“That looks like Dalmoura.” Ravion announced. The discovery brought an expression of shock.
He brought the thick, black line down, separating the lower half of the land mass, creating three shapes from the one. “They have him at this Baron’s Fall place. Which is—”
“Marbayne!” Ravion interjected.
“Exactly. When I saw the mountains, I knew that’s where they were. Which means this ocean right outside is the Reinir Sea between Dalmoura and Negield. And we’re somewhere in here.” Demetrix pointed to a general area near the thick line.
“I’ve never heard of this Marbayne. But Baron’s Fall was the final battle in the Misty Mountains. The humans constructed a great wall that cut the dreualfar forces in half. After that, Baron Rohein and his men trapped what was left of the dreualfar between the foothills and the wall. Thus far it’s been the bloodiest battle this war has seen. Both armies were demolished and Baron Rohein fell to a dreualfar spear, but not before landing the killing blow against General Elgar and effectively ending the war in the northern reaches. It makes no sense why they would reclaim a site surrounded by enemy territory.”
“He’s calling us out. He knows we’ll come if it means saving Gareth.” Ravion stated flatly.
