001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
"I gathered the dead and burned them. Peering into their fear-burnt and lifeless faces, all I could think of was the paralyzing void of loss. There was nothing else in my heart. These people had families, people who loved them waiting for them somewhere. The overwhelming sense of it was packed tight into my 11-year old body. I could only imagine how Rosalind must have felt.
"I buried our parents last. Our father's sword, I laid on his chest; our mother seemingly asleep beside him. Her face was immaculate. Their bodies and faces both seemed to say they were ready to cross the veil. I was carrying Rosalind as I lit the pyre. She was silent now, her hands cold and numb, no doubt mirroring the chill in her heart. We stayed where we were until there was nothing but ash."
Alaric was looking at his feet, head reclined on the back of the couch, empty goblet of wine twirling on his hands. His eyes looked more distant than sad, as if he were reading himself a story from a book. He placed the goblet back on the table, let out a sigh, smiled, and looked at me. "Nothing much happened after that. My sister and I never returned to Ash Valley. We never went to Ehres Harbor either. We took a path and walked straight on it without looking back, living off the land. With my newfound strength and endurance, I could walk on for miles without needing food. Hunting game for my sister was not that difficult, and I almost never slept, watching over her during the night.
"Eventually, the path we were on led us to Einhoren. It must have been five days since the Festival, but the town was still talking about the devastation that happened at the Tranquil Forest. Me and my sister never said a word about it. Instead, I tried looking for honest work -- from the smallest fetching duties to apprenticing for one of the minor blacksmiths.
"It wasn't long before the Guild Master found me. Of course, I didn't know it at that time. All I knew was he was an old Dekan with the bearing of a hardened warrior and a battle light that reminded me somewhat of my father. He said he sensed an unusual resonation of power within me, offering not only to take me under his tutelage, but a roof for both me and my sister as well. I agreed right on the spot. By the following summer, I was elevated to Commander status, with Einhoren as my jurisdiction."
"And here you are," I said, with a slight flourish of the hand, reflecting his smile.
He mock-bowed. "And here I am. So..." his own smile widened, "... friendship?" and held out his hand.
I regarded it with an amused, if slightly bored, expression. I looked at his face again, fingers poised under my chin, feigning deep thought. I let him hold his breath for a while, and without warning, I stood up. "It is late," I declared. "You shall stay for supper, and I shall have the servant golems prepare your rooms for you." I started to walk to the door, expecting him to follow. "Your horse, if you have one, shall be tended to as well, and will be ready until your departure at daybreak."
I never saw the playful way he skipped off the couch, nor the victorious grin he had as we exited into the hallway and teleported to the dining hall. I smiled, despite myself.
The entire guild was called into assembly once again seven days after Alaric's visit to the manse. This gathering was held deep in an underground crypt carved into a particularly grim hillock at the fringes of the Enraged Netherworld in Dharvegawan. Tribes of Serpenters and hordes of Flame Spites prowled relentlessly at every peak and valley that I thought this meeting must be of some significance for the Guild Master to select such a daunting region in the continent.
It came as a surprise, then, as I finished descending the stone steps of the cavern, to see a wide, sprawling space open up before me. What must have been a dark, dank grotto mere hours ago had been magically altered and ploughed into a broad, yawning subterranean amphitheater. Along the perimeter and lining each tier down to the central arena ran countless glyphs, each glowing the distinct mana-blue of the Weave. My staff hummed ever so slightly in the thick layers of magic. I tried to look through the phosphorescent gloom, and surely enough, situated on each of the four directions at the topmost tier was an exceptionally powerful Dark Elf lending strength to stabilize the underground structure. Never before had this much been done during past guild gatherings.
A young White Elf novice -- no doubt from another lesser guild -- greeted me as I was drinking in the meticulous architecture. I showed him the back of my left hand, guild crest burning a low thrum on my skin, displaying my rank and tenure. He bowed in clumsy deference and silently guided me down a length of stone stairway to my appointed place, uttering not a peep.
I turned my attention back to my surroundings. The amphitheater was almost filled. Around three hundred in attendance hailing from all the free races -- most were Human, some of which were probably Dhan; there was a smattering of blue skin, indicating Dekans; Half-Elves in one place, sticking to their own as usual; and White and Dark Elves moving as they please all over the space.
The White Elf novice I was following pointed me to a vacant seat a few tiers above the center, and ran back up the stairs before I could express my thanks. I nodded to my guild brothers and sisters sitting beside me, and as soon as I was settled, I resumed my scanning of the place. My eyes settled on the section directly opposite from where I sat. The Conclave of the Pure formed a rough crescent on two tiers -- their white, gauzy robes lightly illuminated by the mana-blue of the surrounding glyphs drawing most of the attention in the crowd. Directly a rung below them sat the ten Guild Commanders, armored all in light leather of deep midnight blue. Alaric was among them, of course, looking right at me -- his fingers forming a steeple and his gaze square and unsettling. I couldn't dispel it even if I tried, so I nodded to his direction instead, hoping that would break his stone-like concentration. It didn't. I sighed.
A few more moments of discomfort under Alaric's intense scrutiny and the entire assembly fell into a hush. From the central arena arcade emerged our Dekan Guild Master, armored in the same midnight blue as his commanders, but with a long, flowing, dark cloak clasped by silver stars on his shoulder guard. Beside him, and what must have been the reason for all the fanfare, was the White Elven Queen Sovereign, Rima Regenon. She seemed to glide rather than walk in her long gown of vivid lilac lined with gold that spilled and trailed on the ground behind her. Her sun-spun yellow hair was tied at an elaborate knot atop her head, leaving a cascade of white-gold locks tumbling down her bare shoulders and the small of her back.
There was an audible gasp followed by a stream of whisperings, very much like trees in a passing wind, rustling across the vast space as the two individuals -- each radiating their unique brand of eminence -- regarded their audience. The Conclave of the Pure stood at attention and raised their wands. From each tip emerged an orb of eldritch light which floated like wisps, and proceeded to line the narrow path as the resplendent Queen and the ancient Guild Master walked from the mouth of the arcade to the raised dais at the center of the arena.
The murmurs died down as the Guild Master raised his blue-skinned hand. "Peace, Brothers. Peace, Sisters," he announced with a voice that seemed to resonate from the stone walls themselves -- a voice in stark contrast to his age. "I have called on all of you today as a matter of great import. For nearly eight years, a unit being led by one of our Guild Commanders has been tasked to locate an artifact stolen from the Queen Sovereign, Rima Regenon. I am sure most of you recall, with great weight in your heart, the tragedy that befell the Caravan of the Seven Swords at the clearing of the Tranquil Forest eight years ago."
My limbs tensed at the mention of a caravan, causing me to look at Alaric and how he was receiving the news. His eyes were away from me this time, and he was focused on the Guild Master and the Elven Queen on the dais, face devoid of any expression. A slight chill crept up my spine as I sensed Roha's shadow within him.
The Master's voice broke me from my trance. "The same band of rogue demons ambushed the Queen's entourage on their way to the Harbor of Ehres and stole from her very hands one of her badges of office -- the True Leaf of Ohn." At the mention of the name of the artifact, the Conclave of the Pure as well as the other Elven Templars and Priests in attendance reacted as one -- that of fear and disbelief. The White Elf novice who assisted me prior was now holding on to the railing at the edge of the tier, trying not to buckle on his knees.
The regal Queen raised both her hands. She began to speak. "Hush, sons and daughters, for all is as yet balanced." Her voice is strong and clear, like the ringing of a bell at dawn's first light. Her bearing and the command she has over her dominion remind me of His Grand Majesty George Lyonan. While our Grand Majesty inwardly compels deference and absolute obedience, this White Queen radiates loyalty and respect in an outward force. "For eight years this matter has been shadowed from the entire continent, fearing its revelation to spark anarchy and the shattering of the fragile peace between all the free races which we have all worked hard to attain. For eight years, I have worked tirelessly with your Guild Master..." and she looked at him with eyes so tender, pressed her hand to his, and gave him a grateful smile, "... my friend, and the only Guild -- with its ancient roots and secret traditions -- I would entrust my life, into locating the True Leaf. For eight years, my heart ached to tell my children of the suffering I bore, precariously maintaining the balance of power with my own connection to the Weave... NO MORE!
"For we have found it." Relief illuminated her face and flooded her voice. She seemed almost about to weep.
The Master patted her hand that wouldn't let go of his and spoke in her place. "The artifact has indeed been found," he said with mounting pride. "The Commander in charge of the mission has reported that the True Leaf of Ohn is at the chambers of a powerful shade -- the shade of Jainus Une Roha -- somewhere in the third dungeon of Celestial Castle Rakhon." The derelict castle floating near and above the Limestone Foothill Bindstone in Varvylon, which the Wind Goddess Silva ransacked and claimed as her mortal nest during The Purge. It has since become a grotesquerie for all manners of demons, apart from being a source for all sorts of wondrous and magical artifacts.
He let this information sink in before he continued, as he at the same time reverted to the commanding air of a venerable Guild Master. "The Commanders have been briefed as to how the retrieval of this artifact will be executed. Your guild crests will signify which Commander you will report to. By dusk, the Dark Elves tasked with teleportation shall move their corresponding units to their respective locations in and around the Celestial Castle. Your Commanders will explain the details before we depart." And with that, the Guild Master bowed to the assembly and led the Queen Sovereign, now beaming with open gladness and anticipation, off the dais and back into the interiors of the arcade.
If my estimations were correct, we still had two hours before nightfall. The preliminary briefing might have been short, but assembling the troops would take more time. The Commanders stood and positioned themselves on each of the ten arcade openings at the perimeter of the circular arena, their crests visible and radiating a unique hue.
Each of the assembled checked their left hand for the particular color it displayed. Mine was yellow. I looked at Alaric's direction first out of habit -- which annoyed me for but a quick moment -- and saw him slightly and casually tilt his left hand to my direction without looking at me. Naturally, I thought, rolling my eyes. Yellow. I stood up and walked over to where he was, as the others started heading to their own assigned Commander.
"The third dungeon of Rakhon," Alaric announced to the thirty individuals he commanded. He seemed taller somewhat, his armor gleaming and his bastard sword at his side. "Squadrons Leaders, be at the ready! At my signal, each squadron will head out one at a time, in five-minute intervals, and proceed as quickly as they can to their assigned locations. Once again, no one is to engage any individual within the dungeon! Your primary task is to herd anyone from the free races out of harm's way and away from the path the Retrieval Squadron will take after they have acquired the True Leaf." He paused to look at each of the five squadron leaders too see if they understood.
Before the entire assembly left the subterranean amphitheater, the Guild Master once again took the dais. He stressed the importance of keeping the mission as covert as is possible. No doubt there will be other groups and other guilds within every part of Rakhon, and the most crucial part of the mission is to keep the magic of the True Leaf of Ohn from disrupting the ambient Weave. "As the True Leaf cannot be transported by any ordinary magical means, we must bear it in the physical plane until outside the Celestial Castle at a secluded clearing in Limestone Foothill, where the Conclave of the Pure will be waiting. Until then, White and Dark Elves, we must keep the Weave as stable as we can at all times. Other guilds present in the dungeon should not be made aware of its presence, not only because it will compromise our mission, but it will also cause a terrible imbalance in all of the continents."
Those same words Alaric repeated. I looked at the entire group as he was speaking, and I noted with satisfaction that I was not the only one being awed by Alaric's presence. Each face from all the free races was turned to this boy-child, and each was undeniably limned with respect for his words and capabilities. This mission will not fail, I thought, and I believed it.
"Squadron Leaders! Your guild crests will signal you of the status of the mission." Alaric's own crest flashed bright gold. "The other Commanders are in place. First Squadron, cast your spells now."
A group of six nearest the entrance started doing so, and I felt the ambient Weave sing in response to their incantations. I can feel my staff's urgency to join in the chorus, but I exerted my will and managed to hold it in check. A stern-looking female White Elf Templar, whom I assume is the leader, finished casting her spells and walked to the entrance of the dungeon followed by the rest of her squadron -- a Priest, a Warlock, an Evolved female Sage, a Ranger, and a Predator. The Templar looked to Alaric for his command, and as soon as Alaric nodded, the first squadron was on their way.
"She's a serious one, isn't she?" Alaric whispered to me as he stepped off from the platform he was standing on. I nodded in agreement. She had the fierce look of a leader. "Quite the opposite in my private chambers, I assure you."
I am not one to let my emotions parade openly on my face, but that remark took me completely by surprise. "'I have nothing but utmost respect to the guild's traditions,' who said that again?"
"I also said that as a Commander, we are permitted certain privileges," he deflected easily, grinning his usual little boy grin. "Besides, it was during one of the previous guild gatherings. I would not be able to penetrate the guild's powerful confounding spell if it were any other time or place. And she did not permit me the honor of knowing her name," he said, almost disappointedly.
I sighed and conceded. For all my trepidation, Alaric was very charming for a Human. Not that I've had many conversations with a lot of them in the centuries of my life. And with this level of familiarity, too. "I'm supposing you had a little help breaking through the confounding spell in finding my whereabouts, then?"
"Guilty. I am able to tap into some degree of power from being Roha's avatar, but I am careful not to utilize it too much as it takes a toll on me... physically." He turned back to the assembly. "Second Squadron, cast your spells!"
This time, a Human Defender led the group. A Human female followed him, also a Defender, then a Ranger, a female Wizard, and a Priest. "Lovers," Alaric whispered once again, indicating the two Defenders. "Tragic they can only be with each other during guild gatherings. Sympathy I normally would not have felt until I met you took hold of me and I decided to put them in the same squadron."
Once again the intrusion in my psyche. My grip on my staff tightened. I will not have any of it. "With all due respect, Brother Commander, I would request that this dissection of my innermost thoughts be ceased."
He looked at me with a curious expression, blinked twice, and turned his attention back to the squadron. He nodded, and they were off. We both remained in an uneasy silence for quite some time until the third squadron left and the fourth was casting their spells. "Fourth Squadron Leader," he called to an Avenger. "Your group is to stay near the entrance, making sure the transport portal to the second level of Rakhon is clear." The Avenger nodded and proceeded back to his squadron.
Alaric turned his attention to the four who were left -- a female Warlock, a Priest, a female Templar, and a Sage -- all with significant control over the Weave. "Retrieval Squadron, to me!" As soon as he was sure our attention was focused on him, he began. "To be quite honest, I would rather have the shade of Jainus Une Roha not be present when we get to his chambers. I have faced him once, and his spirit is not to be trifled with." I most sincerely doubt this. With his power, he could crush Jainus Une Roha with a thought. But projecting himself as an ordinary Human with ordinary vulnerabilities might work to his advantage and wrest more control over the group. "But if he is there, then that is why we are soldiers.
"Remember, however, that our mission is the retrieval of the True Leaf, and not to defeat Jainus. We shall remain in the defensive if he attacks first, but we focus on bearing the True Leaf safely, apart from maintaining the stability of the ambient Weave. While the True Leaf is in our possession, any spell might be disrupted or it might be cast the wrong way, so be wary." He turned to face the dark, foreboding hallways of the dungeon. "Cast your spells," he said, just a little above a whisper.
All at once, I felt the power of the Weave surge into me like a raging river as my own spells, as well as that of my companions, took hold. I felt my senses heightened and sharpened, and saw and heard things that weren't there before; ancient incantations of power were made clear in my mind; and the very energies of the cosmos coalesced in every nerve in my body, ready to be tapped into at my whim. My staff hummed, hungry in my hands. It was thrilling and intoxicating, enough to drive any ordinary mortal mad. I spared a few seconds to thank the Weave for the centuries of meditative discipline I undertook.
I never noticed when Alaric sidled himself beside me and whispered, "You guard your heart well, Zohariel, but your sister was right. You have yet to know the wisdom from being with friends." And before I could snap back, he was dashing off into the darkness, his laughter an odd, merry echo bouncing off the desolate walls of the dungeon. I darted forward with my companions and smiled, despite myself.
