by Tiger Hebert
Renlar listened intently.
“How did the demon get away?”
Quick, think up something that doesn’t make you sound incompetent.
“I had to close the rift... but the demon was attacking me, so uh, I had to cast a protective barrier so I could close it. Yeah, so the demon took the opportunity to flee,” lied Vacinne.
“You did seal the rift, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “I didn’t leave until the rift was gone.”
Well, at least that isn’t a lie.
“Right,” said Renlar.
Vacinne couldn’t determine if he believed her or not.
Renlar nodded and said, “Good, because, as a Warden you probably already know this, but rifts are anchored to the Immortal Hearts. If the rift isn’t sealed and a demon escapes, they can reopen it at another location.”
Vacinne fidgeted. “Oh, yeah, I knew that. Just out of curiosity, how does it actually work though. Like, I understand the concept, but they never fully explained the connection between the rifts and the Immortal Hearts, you know, in detail.”
Renlar gave her an appraising glance for a moment, before nodding.
Okay, he bought it!
Then Renlar explained, “As you know, the universe is believed to consist of three realms. The Heavens, the Hells, and the Mortal Realm sandwiched in between. Unlike our realm, the Heavens and the Hells are inhabited by immortal beings, primarily angels and demons. Unlike those of us that belong to the Mortal Realm, the immortals do not die natural deaths. The immortals do not have hearts that beat and pulse with flesh and blood like we do though. Angels and demons alike have powerful stones at their core called immortal hearts. It not only gives them life, but also gives them the power to open and close gateways between the realms.”
“So, the rifts are actually opened up by the Immortal Hearts?”
Renlar nodded. “Yes.”
“So, if the rifts are sealed but the demon survives, can’t they just open a new rift?”
Renlar said, “No, not from this realm. I’m not sure if anyone understands why, but it seems that demons, and angels for that matter, are only able to create a gateway that bridges the dimensions one time. Some people believe that the Immortal Hearts only have the power to create that link once.”
Vacinne shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. How can a surviving demon reopen a rift if they can only create one link?”
Renlar answered, “Because the link remains. So even if you see a rift disappear, the link remains unless it was intentionally severed.”
Vacinne cringed and said, “Then perhaps I should amend my previous statement.”
“As I expected,” said Renlar with a huff.
“I’m sorry. The rift was gone. I thought it was closed,” said Vacinne.
“No sense worrying about it now, but we need to catch that demon and kill it before these mountains are infested with them.”
It was quiet for a few moments as they rode their way toward the Ruins of Esboralis. Renlar replayed all the details she’d shared over again in his mind. Then he broke the silence.
“Some things don’t add up to me. You said that the people of Dunmorrow had already been massacred before you even arrived.”
Vacinne nodded. “That’s correct. Well, actually there was an old man that was still alive. His legs were badly mangled, and he used his arms to drag himself from one of the buildings. He was... killed when the demon stepped through the rift.”
“Is there anything else that you can remember about the old man? Anything?”
The horrific images flooded Vacinne’s mind. She watched as the dying man pulled himself into view. She saw his mutilated form. She saw the anguish on his face and the carvings on his back.
The carvings...
“Oh, oh! He had strange carvings on his back. They looked like demonic runes carved right into his flesh. I never got a close look, but the runes illuminated before they burst into flames or, or some kind of energy, I don’t know. That’s when the rift opened,” said Vacinne excitedly.
Renlar’s countenance darkened. “These are ill tidings, Vacinne. Ill tidings indeed.”
“I don’t understand,” admitted Vacinne.
“The runes carved into flesh and blood triggered the demonic magic to open that rift, but not just anyone can perform that type of spell. So, if the vorthor demon wasn’t already here, then something summoned it—from this side. So, someone with that kind of power and knowledge had to have already been here. But who? Or what?”
Vacinne replied, “I don’t know all the details, but strange things have been happening recently, including a rash of rifts that had opened. Fortunately, the Wardens have been able to neutralize the threats, but the sudden spike in rifts was alarming. I believe that was what Warden Masoc and his team were sent to investigate.”
Renlar tapped fingers on his chin as he thought. “This is the first rift to have opened within a hundred leagues of Ketabo in several months. If the Wardens were seeing an increase in rift activity, where were they happening?”
Vacinne shrugged, “I don’t know everything, but there was definitely several around the Temple, and of course a few others that I know of in various different directions. One towards the divide, another north of the Drechic, and two to the west of the Temple.”
Renlar stopped tapping his chin. “Do you happen to know why this Masoc and his team would have been sent down here then? If the rifts were happening every direction but here, why would they choose to investigate this region?”
“Oh, they sent teams in every direction. His team just happens to be the one we haven’t heard from,” Vacinne answered.
“Well Vacinne, I fear that we may not recover your fellow Warden. Something evil is at work here, and this Warden’s fate is likely already sealed,” warned Renlar.
“I feared as much, but as a Warden my hope persists,” she replied.
He nodded.
By the Light, help me believe that, she prayed silently.
5
Of Gods and Men
The two had travelled for an hour or so when the Ruins of Esboralis first came into sight. Even the keenest of human eyes could barely see the slightest hint of the ruin’s spires hidden in the mountains’ shadow. They were getting close.
Renlar turned to Vacinne and asked, “Do you know of the history of Esboralis?”
“I know that the kingdom grew in fame and fortune very quickly, before a very abrupt end,” she replied.
Renlar said, “Indeed it did. The city of Esboralis was a vibrant flame once. It gave life to its people and the villages of Ketabo and Dunmorrow alike. But like every flame that burns bright, its flame was soon extinguished. The famed philosopher and historian Hiradean once wrote, ‘great cities are only born in the mountains for the prosperity of profit or protection they offer, and the pick-ax that is powered by the hope of either digs the deepest.’ It is true, and Esboralis was no exception.”
He shifted in his saddle and continued, “King Esbor carried certain beliefs. First, he believed that the mountains in this region were full of riches. He was right. The mines of Esboralis produced a fortune in precious gems. The kingdom’s wealth grew tremendously on the backs of its miners.”
Vacinne asked, “What was his second belief?”
Renlar took in a deep breath of fresh mountain air. “King Esbor believed that the citizens of his kingdom had a right to a share of the wealth. He was a generous king, more so than any other known monarch in history. He established a ruling council to help establish systems to distribute shares of the wealth in a way to make sure that there was no lack or suffering in his kingdom.”
Vacinne said, “It sounds like he was a great man. His people must have loved him.”
Renlar chuckled, “That’s what everyone says, until they hear the rest of the story. King Esbor was a fool. He was well intentioned, but a fool nonetheless.”
Vacinne furrowed her.
“Okay, so what’s the rest of the story?”
“King Esbor was loved. The flow of precious gems from his mines brought tremendous wealth into the city through trade. As the wealth grew, so did the prosperity of all. The city’s spires inched higher with each passing day. And the wages rose the most for those in society that struggled the most. The streets became cleaner and safer. The markets were full of the finest foods and wares. The slums were overhauled, each hovel replaced with a well-constructed dwelling made of the finest materials.”
Renlar paused to take a swig from his canteen, and Vacinne said, “I honestly don’t see how any of this is bad.”
Renlar raised his index finger and said, “Ah, but therein lies his third faulty belief, that mankind could handle it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will, you will,” he nodded, before continuing. “The kingdom’s wealth was tremendous, as was the cost of his prosperity programs. The programs began to drain the kingdom’s coffers, but he couldn’t undo what he’d started, so the king had to find new ways to fund it. The prosperity was truly shared by all, and for the briefest of moments, it was a glimpse of paradise. And while the human heart aspires to such lofty ideals, it is also full of all kinds of deceits and wickedness.”
He had her full attention as he continued the teaching. “Miners whose back-breaking work produced the kingdom’s wealth initially enjoyed their change in fortunes. What was once a miserable, thankless job for the uneducated, now offered them a nice home, good food, and a proper education for their children. Until they realized the same was afforded to those who didn’t work as they did. Some continued to work, while others protested, and others outright quit. Immediate production losses were felt in an economy that was already on the verge of outspending its revenue generation.”
Renlar swept his hair back from his face. “The kingdom’s coffers were hemorrhaging, and Esbor needed to stop the bleeding. He ordered reduction in spending in many other programs. He cut military spending. The production of new armors and weaponry was decreased, along with that of the outer defenses. Likewise, troops garrisoned outside the walls were largely drawn into home garrison inside the walls, simply because it was less expensive. But it wasn’t enough to stem the bleeding. Unwilling to realize the mistake, or perhaps realizing it had gone too far to reverse course, King Esbor forced his ruling council to amend their trade policies.”
Vacinne listened intently as they rode on.
“The taxes were levied on trade partners. In some cases, it made sense, but when they imposed strict tariffs on trade partners that had always dealt fairly with them it created problems. What the king and his council failed to realize was that they needed the trade more than the other nations. Their primary export of precious gems was a luxury, not a necessity. Tensions grew, and trade dwindled. King Esbor lifted the taxes and tariffs, but some relationships were irreparably damaged, and some trade partners were reluctant to return. Things quickly unraveled. King Esbor realized the mines were still rife with wealth, but it needed to be mined quickly. He ordered all the protesting miners back into the mines. Criminals were then sent into the mines, followed by those in the kingdom who the council deemed were not otherwise contributing to society, including soldiers in garrison.”
Vacinne said, “So essentially, half the kingdom was then forced to work in the mines to earn the crowns that they were already afforded?”
Renlar nodded, “Yes.”
Vacinne stared wide-eyed. “What happened next?”
“The same thing that always happens when people believe they are oppressed.”
“A revolt,” she replied.
“The uprising started in the mines. I don’t think having the prisoners down there with the general population was ever a good idea, but it was bound to happen either way. What was once a peaceful protest started by law-abiding miners quickly devolved into a full fledge riot. They overtook their guards, and eventually the violence spilled into the streets. Buildings were burned, people were killed, and the looting began. Those few soldiers that were still in garrison were called in, but they were tasked with fighting their own. In many cases they were fellow soldiers who’d been ordered to the mines, and in other cases they were family and friends. Without any means of ending the riots, King Esbor and the ruling class hid behind palace walls as the weeks passed.”
“So that’s how it ended? The city was destroyed by the riots?” asked Vacinne.
“Not quite. Wealth attracts attention. Apparently, the Frost Giants of Frizjarda, up in the mountains above, had been watching Esboralis. As the riots went on, the Frost Giant king ordered the attack. The Frost Giants descended from the mountains like an avalanche. The people of Esboralis never had a chance. The city’s inhabitants were killed, eaten, or enslaved—perhaps a combination of the three. No one really knows. But the city was left in ruins, and much of its wealth stolen into the mountains beyond.”
Renlar took a deep breath as he finished the telling.
“What a dreadful tale,” said Vacinne. “It sounds as though the giants were their doom more than anything the king did.”
Renlar scoffed, “Did you not listen to anything but the ending?”
Vacinne countered, “Is it not possible that the riots could have ended, and they could have rebuilt? It’s not unheard of. There are documented accounts of other kingdoms that have dealt with riots and even full-blown revolts and continued to exist.”
Renlar raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I know of Shendolin and Agripaan to name a few, but they did not build their entire societies on such a faulty foundation of logical fallacies. The entire foundation of Esboralis was based on the principles of humans being evenly awarded for uneven effort and merit. That system will never work in any human society! Ever. Period. The human individual will always seek what is fair, through their own lens of self-satisfaction and self-preservation. Very rare are the individuals that choose to strive against the current when it is easier to float downstream. Some yes, but few on the whole, and not enough to sustain the many who don’t.”
Vacinne tilted her head back as she looked skyward. “As an optimist, I choose to believe.”
Renlar slapped his hands together and shook his head, “You are an impossible girl.”
“Mr. Demass, I am no child, and you’ll not address me as one,” she said in a stinging rebuke.
“Are you even twenty-one?”
“Next month, three weeks to be precise.”
Renlar laughed, “Of course, of course my dear. You do have the look of a grown woman, that’s for sure, but hopefully by the time we’re done working together, I can have you thinking like a grown woman too.”
“Renlar Demass!” she barked, as her face flushed. “I’m not even sure which part of that statement I find the most offensive.”
“Pick whichever you prefer, but please stop calling me by my full name,” he remarked.
“Well what should I call you then? Black Blade sounds ridiculous. What do I call you, Nicky-Knives, or what was the other one, Double-shot?” she said in a mocking tone.
“Okay, okay, no need to make fun. I’m not the one who has came up with all the names either. Besides, it’s Two-shots, but you can just call me Renny. Will that work?” he replied.
“Renny. I kind of like that. It’s not too serious. It’s almost light and playful,” she said with a smile.
“Yeah, kinda like Rift Warden Vacinne LeDroux,” the sarcasm dripping from his words.
“Ha ha, Renny. Just Vacinne is fine.”
Renlar bowed, “Very well, Just Vacinne.”
“And the jokes just keep coming with you don’t they,” she said as she rolled her eyes.
“All day darlin’,” he said with a wink.
Vacinne sighed in frustration as they rode onward. Then she spotted something in the sky, off to the west.
“What is that?”
But her words were drowned out by the terrible roar of a dragon. On the open road through the hi
ghlands, there was nowhere for them to find cover. They were sitting ducks. Like a surge wind, the dragon rushed through the sky as it swooped down toward the Ruins of Esboralis. It arched back upward and shot up over the Drechic’s craggy spires then up into the clouds. In seconds, the dragon was out of view. Its terrible roar followed, which rolled like thunder through the clouds far above.
“I thought we were dead,” said Vacinne as she trembled.
“If we don’t get off this road, we might be,” said the suddenly wary Renlar.
Vacinne looked around. “We’re not going to find any cover up here. Either we turn back now, or we ride hard for the ruins.”
Renlar nodded. “I think you’re right. But if the dragon keeps swooping down upon the ruins, we may be dead either way. Hyah!”
Renlar urged his horse into a dead run toward the ruins, and Vacinne was but a heartbeat behind them.
Vacinne shouted, “You said the city had lots of mines!”
“Yeah, let’s hope we can find one that isn’t occupied,” he hollered back.
The unseen dragon roared in the cloud above, only for its terrible cry to roll like an avalanche down the mountain.
“Whatever’s in them can’t be worse than that,” shouted Vacinne.
“I pray you’re right,” said Renlar.
The horses’ hooves beat the highland road as their mounts dashed toward the war-torn ruins of Esboralis. The gap shortened rapidly with each of the mares’ powerful strides. The horses carried their riders effortlessly up the incline, undoubtedly propelled by the fear of the dragon.
Vacinne shrieked as the white dragon broke through the clouds and plummeted toward them.
Renlar slapped the bottom of his hands together then rolled them toward himself then out in a dramatic silent incantation, and Vacinne prepared a protective shield as the dragon blew past them like a howling tempest. They twisted back in their saddles to watch as the white dragon arched upward and shot out of view once again.
With dust swirling behind them, they rode the last stretch to the ruins. It was perhaps the longest league in Vacinne’s life. Her heart pounded as fear continued to ravage her. Renlar said nothing, but she knew it had to be eating at him too. The dragon’s roar faded away, and the only sound left was the pounding of the horses’ hooves.
