Ashtock and Ahtash were both honored with citizen medals from the military for their valiant defense during the city. Many of the militia, now returned to their regular lives, still recognized Ashtock and called him “the cannon-wielder,” The nickname grew in popularity at an alarming rate; soon the Chipowi couldn’t walk down the street of any borough without being recognized. Ahtash was equally popular, especially with children. Everywhere she went to help with repairs she was bombarded with adorning kids who constantly badgered her to change forms or show them a breath of fire. Most of the time the dragon would seem bewildered or confused at the attention, her own people never having anything that resembled a celebrity. After some reassuring from David or Sam however, she would show off a plume of fire from her mouth or hand to the amazement of the crowd. The children would then go screaming through the streets in merriment, bragging to all their friends about what they had witnessed.
Haven, for her work as the groups’ healer and her constant shifts in the Cathedral for the Light in the recovering days after the battle, was presented with an award from the Grand Cleric and was officially given leave from her religious duties to continue with the group. The statement was a formality, as the only thing keeping her from being punished for her earlier abandonment was the fact that she owned Daisy and her Divine counterpart. As the church couldn’t excommunicate a hero and a keeper of the first Divine seen in centuries without losing worshipers, they were happy with simply giving her the freedom to leave. Daisy, as it turned out, was gathering quite the devout following. Everywhere the golden haired healer went, small groups of worshipers doted on her dog. For her part, Daisy was the pinnacle of a gracious saint, never too busy to spend time with her worshippers and accept offerings of treats and belly rubs.
Dinaer had even gained some infamy among some high ranking circles for ending the succubus menace, though his deeds were publicly downplayed as to not spread the word that such a creature had been living in the city for so long without being apprehended. This suited the elf, as his concerns mostly remained with his sister’s well-being. Minerva and Persephone both continually visited Poikaer as she resided in Whitespell Manor and began learning how to cope with her disability. Each time they visited, Dinaer was nowhere to be found.
* * *
On a brisk late winter’s evening, April and Sam walked the quiet streets of the city as they often did in an effort to stay fit. The two would combat the elements and work out their muscles, all the while surveying the repair progress and making public appearances to keep the citizen’s morale high. They spoke to each other of their separate projects, Sam with his studies and the Order, April with her heists and training. It felt good to end each day with news of what they had accomplished. They would brag about some things, complain about others. They relayed funny events and consoled each other over disappointments. Over the weeks, this ritual became what they looked forward to the most each day. “I like this,” Sam finally said as they walked.
“Like what?” April asked.
“This. This walk we do every evening. It helps me keep things in perspective,” Sam stated.
April nodded, watching as her breath left her mouth in a mist of hot vapors. “It helps me too.”
Sam sighed; the guilt hitting him again as he looked over a house that had been abandoned after the attack. The owners had been killed during the assault, the dark house looming as a reminder of its residents’ absence. April put a hand on the Guardian’s shoulder. “You can’t save them all Sam,” She said softly.
“I know, I just… I don’t know what I’d do if any of you got hurt during this,” Sam said, “The more I plan, the more I realize just how long and dangerous this quest is going to get.”
“We’re with you to the end Sam, you know this,” April said.
“But what if I don’t want any of you to get in harms way?” Sam asked.
“Not your decision, mister,” April playfully punched his arm.
They walked in silence for a few minutes until a brisk wind blew across them and made them each shiver in response. “We should find some cover and warm up for a bit before continuing,” Sam said. “That wind is only going to get worse for the next few hours.”
“How do you know?” April asked.
Sam tilted his head to one side like she should have known better than to ask. April chuckled, her nose starting to run in the brisk cold wind. “Oh right, the whole Guardian thing.”
The two were welcomed into an inn where a fire was blazing in the fireplace and a couch sat vacant before it. The owner brought the two of them hot tea and blankets and refused Sam’s currency in repayment. Sam secretly placed the gold coin, which was three times the necessary amount of money, onto the counter when the man wasn’t looking and moved onto the couch beside April. The two sipped their tea in front of the flame. “This is nice. I like this,” April mocked Sam from earlier.
The Guardian’s face didn’t turn away from the fire. He wasn’t entirely there. Half of him was back at the night where he watched his town burn to ash, his mother dying in his arms. The screams, the pain. He couldn’t get the red eyes out of his mind. April shook his knee with her hand and it brought Sam back. “Hmm?” He asked.
“Where’d you go?” April asked as a look of concern crossed her face.
“Nowhere…” Sam lied.
April’s expression changed to one much like a scolding mother’s would to a disobedient child and Sam let out a sigh and conveyed the truth. “Cortendale.”
“I wish you would stop torturing yourself so much over these things Sam, it’s not like you could have acted differently.”
“I’m seeing things differently these days, seeing things for what they truly are. Cain didn’t attack Cortendale for just me; he had planned to attack Cortendale as a pre-emptive strike against the kingdom. In the chaos he could have taken Lochmare without any struggle and the front lines would have no choice but to relent. All I am is a fly in the ointment,” Sam said.
“A very accomplished fly that is doing a great job messing up that ointment,” April argued.
Sam nodded. Regardless of his humility, he had a good notion of how difficult he was making the Dark One’s plans of conquering Lochkary. The more lessons he had with Sillis, the more the two of them had surmised Cain’s reasons for taking over this kingdom. Lochkary held the majority of the descendants from the ancient Guardians as well as Courttop, the seat of the Architect. If Cain could get his hands on the elemental pieces, including Windrider from the Guardian of the Wind, he could bypass the eternal storm that surrounded the mountain top and put an end to his weakened brother, Dytin. With the other elemental pieces in hand and his brother defeated, Cain could recreate the Tevan crystal through his own corruption, ultimately cursing every element and twisting it to whatever sadistic designs he had in mind. Teva would crumble and the mortal races would be helpless against such an overwhelming and unstoppable dark force. Cain was an eternally patient spirit; he didn’t care if it took ten hundred or ten thousand years to complete his plan. Lochkary had been invaded time and time again for this very reason, it was only a matter of time before one side had to give and the odds were not in Lochkary’s favor, that is until Sam came along. At every turn Sam had been in the right place, at the right time, with the right plan to overturn any design the Dark One had. Any doubts the blue haired Guardian had about his fate and the spirits having a plan were completely thrown out the window. He only hoped his luck continued. Sam took another sip of his tea and let it warm him. “That is becoming clear to me as well,” He stated.
“It sounds like you’re starting to see a lot of things,” April rested her hands on the couch.
Sam reached out with his cold palm and took hold of hers. April looked at him wide eyed as the man leaned towards her. “I’m also seeing that girl I used to take for granted,” Sam said softly.
“Sam, this isn’t…” April blushed, her words coming out sporadically. “… we talked about this.”
/> “I know, that night in the cave. You said that I should take you seriously. That if I cared for you than I should commit to you,” Sam said plainly.
April brushed the bangs from her face. "And?"
Sam never looked away from her. His cerulean eyes locked with her emerald ones. Sam shook his head, rejecting her dismissal. “I'm ready to make that commitment.”
April sighed heavily. She seemed to have an internal battle in her mind, deciding whether or not to let him in. Could she bring herself to be vulnerable again? Was this worth the risk?
“I realize it’s probably hard to believe me. I'm sorry that I have taken this long. I want to make it up to you,” Sam stated after a long silence.
“How?” April asked him coyly.
“Oh I don’t know. Do your laundry, sharpen your knives, shine your boots…”
April placed her tea mug on the floor. As Sam rambled on, she surprised him, springing up and wrapping her arms around Sam’s neck and collapsed her lips onto his. Sam, in shock, let his mug drop to the floor with a thud and spilling tea across the wooden panels. He got over his shock, closed his eyes, and folded his arms around the rogue. The fire’s logs popped and crackled in response as the two embraced each other in the firelight. After a passionate few minutes the lovers pried their lips apart and smiled, letting out excited and shaky sighs. “…or that,” Sam said breathless.
April closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. “Ok, that wasn’t smart. This is going to complicate things so much. I shouldn’t have done that. Now you’re going to think I’m too forward, too brash, too clingy. You'll probably go running for…”
“April,” Sam said calmly, stopping her neurotic ranting.
“Yes?” She asked.
The girl’s emerald eyes flickered with a vulnerability Sam had never seen in her before. She was like clay in his hands, gentle and fragile; hanging on everything he was saying and ever could say. It was a side he knew she never showed anyone. He smiled, knowing now more than ever that this was the side of her he wanted to see forever. “I’m not going anywhere,” Sam said.
The two kissed again, warming each other through the starry winter’s night. They wrapped themselves about one another for the remainder of the evening. There were many kisses and many tender moments. They talked until midnight when they finally fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, just as the third moon centered in the sky…
Sneak Peek
Dytin’s Stones:
Peacekeeper
Chapter 1
Secret Missions
They moved in perfect silence. They wore weightless, black clothing; masks over their faces. Only thing identifying them as elves were their long ears poking out through slits in their hoods. They had a mission, one given to them by the Elven Hierarchy, one that would be denounced should they be caught. They were not here officially. Officially, they did not exist. These kinds of black ops were what the Sereg’wethren[6] did best. They never failed.
Since ancient times, the Elven Hierarchy and the Dwarven Parliament had been in a perpetual Cold War. Though publicly they each professed neutrality, behind the scenes the racial governments pitted extremist groups and terrorist organizations at each other. They backed opposite sides of other country’s civil wars, paid mercenaries and pirates to raid supply convoys, and even assassinated major political figures. More than one High Father or Clan Leader had fallen victim to a hidden blade or poisoned meal.
The root of this never-ending chess game was the racial hatred between the two species. The two are polar opposites, the Dwarves respected structure and stability whereas the Elves idolized freedom and individualism. The other dominant reason for the rift between the two peoples was their long memories. The two had been at war since the world of Teva was very young. Ever since the Battle for the Ether Mine. This was where the Sereg’wethren were going.
The Elven Hierarchy had gotten word that the Dwarves had reopened the sacred ground. This could not stand. The silent squad slipped through the woods, the mushy snow starting to melt with the spring rains. They reached the entrance, where a massive gold statue memorialized those who lost their lives here so many centuries ago. There were definitely signs of recent digging, lights further in behind some cleared rubble. The Treaty of the Five had been broken. The Sereg’wethren moved in.
Darting swiftly through the tunnels, the elves knew the layout well. They had been given ancient records on the incident, the Ether Mine had been held by the Elves for a number of months after all. They moved through the shadows, their heightened eyesight a racial advantage in the dark. Only the Lycan or Gatoens could match their night vision. The lead ranger held up his squad, hearing voices coming from around the bend. The elves evaporated into the darkness, if they were discovered, the mission could spark the largest war Teva had ever seen. “Why we even here, anyway?” A gruff dwarf’s voice echoed through the halls, with the typical slow cadence and thick drawl held by the stout race.
“D’you have any idea how much ore’s left in these walls?” An older dwarf argued.
“Bah, not enuff ta pay my way out the stocks if we’re caught.” The first replied.
“Don’t worry yur tiny little beard about that youngin’. What those Silvers don’t know won’t hurt nothin’. We’ll take these profits right out from under their fat, spoiled noses, and they’ll be none the wiser.”
The younger dwarf didn’t sound convinced. “Those elves killed thousands here alla’ cause we accidently found that Ether junk. What makes ya think they won’t stop us muckin’ around in here again?”
“We were here first!” The older dwarf spat, obviously infuriated by the subject of the Battle for the Ether Mine. It was still a very sore topic amongst dwarves and elves. “Those were our miners who were trapped in here, our first responders who were slaughtered by those knife ear bastards. This mine has always been and always will be… ours.”
“Yeah, but that ether stuff ain’t nuthin ta shake a pick at either. It can burn yur hide faster than dragonfire.” The younger objected.
“’Course it’s wicked stuff. It’s theirs.” The older dwarf grumbled. “Now shut yur yap and just get the lanterns from the entrance, alright?”
The dwarves parted, the younger coming up the tunnel and straight into the group of covert elves. His eyes went wide, then his neck was opened wider, his body guided to the ground. The older dwarf turned and started up the tunnel after his companion. “Oh, and kid, don’t forget that Bhaltair wants ya ta…”
The old dwarf’s voice was silenced by a few arrows striking him down with perfect precision. The elves moved swiftly further in. The explosives needed to be set on most of the support beams and that meant getting into the heart of the mining operation. If they had more time, they would have searched the bodies. Discovering what Dwarven Clan was behind this operation could help focus future missions against the little creatures, but intelligence gathering came second to the mission’s main objective. The Ether must be protected. The mine would be closed again, the miners trapped inside, but this time no Dwarven army would try to come to their rescue. The Parliament still publicly followed the Treaty of the Five, the arrangement made between the Dwarves, Elves, Humans, Aquifers, and Dragons after the Battle for the Ether Mine. It was an accord that tried to keep the peace between Teva’s most powerful races. An accord that was insistent that the mine remain a no man’s land.
In a large chamber, a number of dwarfs were hard at work, processing the clumps of silver ore that were picked from the veins in deeper tunnels. It was the nexus of their operations here, freshly cleared away from the forced cave in a few millennia ago. The elves spread themselves throughout the perimeter. A few wordless hand signals, a few more scuffles and loose arrows, and a dozen dwarves lied dead on the ground. The Sereg’wethren were the best for a reason.
The black clad elves went briskly to work, attaching blasting powder pouches to the support beams about the room. They were fast, silent, efficient, but none of the
m could have prepared for Bhaltair. The Foreman was massive by Dwarven standards. He could wear human armor and held a double handed axe in his hands. He thundered up the tunnel after hearing the ore processing machines grind to a halt. When seeing the stealth elves, the old berserker grinned with a rotten toothed mouth. “Hot damn! I been waitin’ fur you pointy-eared shits all night. I knew the damned Hierarchy would send yew.”
The elves traded shocked looks, then withdrew their weapons and prepared for a fight. Bhaltair cracked his neck. “Well? What’re you waitin’ fur?”
The Sereg’wethren jumped their opponent. Their arrows bounced off of the berserker’s heavy armor, the dwarf thundering forward like a living tank. His axe met with one of the rogues, sending its body across the room in a lifeless heap. Another elf jumped onto the warrior’s back, but was grabbed and thrown into one of his comrades. Bhaltair tossed the Sereg’wethren like they were nothing, laughing hysterically despite stab wounds from a few of the elite assassins. In a few more minutes, the fight looked about over. Bhaltair had an elven warrior raised above his head, his massive fist choking the life from him. “You smug bastards always think yur so smart.” The dwarf taunted. “But yur weak. You’ve always been weak. You’re always gonna be weak.”
The dwarf dropped his opponent’s body to the floor, scanning the room of dead elves and dwarves, reveling in his work. Bhaltair allowed himself to collapse to a knee, not knowing exactly how many wounds he was bleeding from, but it didn’t matter, the mine was safe. It was then his eyes caught movement. A half-pulverized rogue was drawing back an arrow in a bowstring. Bhaltair started laughing hysterically. “Oh yeah, ‘Cause all those other twigs made such a difference. Give it up knife ear, yur time is over. It’s time fur the age of the dwarf!”
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