SOUL BORN - Kevin James Breaux

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Soul Born - Reborn Edition Published By:
Kevin James Breaux
www.kevinbreaux.com
Soul Born and Soul Born - Reborn Edition
Copyright © Kevin James Breaux 2009-2016
Soul Born Cover Art Copyright © Dan Dos Santos 2010
All rights reserved. No part of the contents of this book
may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means without the written consent or permission of the
author.
All persons, places, and events in this book are fictions
and any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is
purely coincidental.
Cover Artist: Dan Dos Santos
Cover Design: Kevin James Breaux
Editor: Gretchen Stelter
* 2016 - This is a free copy for the fans to read and enjoy. Not for
resale.
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Acknowledgements:
I would like to acknowledge all the people who have read
the original version of Soul Born and taken time to give me
feedback good or bad. I appreciate the time and support
everyone has spent. This book has been a work in progress
for many years. It helped start my career as a writer and
it has helped me make many friends. I would also like to
thank all the future readers of the Soul Born Saga and my
other books to be released.
Write Makes Might!
Kevin James Breaux
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SOUL BORN
Reborn Edition
By
Kevin James Breaux
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Prologue
The snap of a stick echoed in the ears of the young
elven woman as she fled through the murky midnight forest,
her pale violet eyes like those of a predatory bird:
searching and endlessly scanning her surroundings. In this
chase, however, she was the prey.
Two days ago, by sheer misfortune, she had crossed
paths with a hunting party of her people’s greatest rivals—
lizard men. The alligator-headed lizard men were on the
brink of extinction after many summers of bloody conflict
with the elves, making them all the more dangerous when
encountered.
After having run for two straight days, Tala had
exhausted all of her people’s tricks to escape pursuit. The
lizard men were closing in on her.
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So tired she was seeing things in the shadows behind
every tree, Tala recklessly ran through the forest, no
longer attempting to cover her tracks. She had lost
everything: her belongings, her friends, and her family. It
seemed fitting, that on this night, she would lose her life
too. Dry mouthed and thirsty, she ran in the direction of a
lake, having spotted the glitter of moonlight reflecting
off its surface between the trees.
She knew the lizard men were close; she could smell
them—the scent of decaying flora coated their scales.
Nevertheless, she stopped, kneeling by the lake to drink.
After gulping down a few mouthfuls, Tala froze, spilling a
handful of water down her chin. She remained motionless,
afraid that even breathing would alert her hunters.
Through the willow trees encircling the small lake,
her keen hearing caught a noise coming from the opposite
shore. Tala had never heard a lizard man speak, but her
tribal elders recounted their language as a collection of
hissing sounds—not unlike a snake with tongue–clicks added
for emphasis.
The young elven woman stood up slowly and backed away
from the water, one foot at a time. Right before her eyes,
the bushes spread open suddenly and out lumbered one of the
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hunters. His back hunched as he moved. She could see his
dorsal spikes flare up, as though he was about to attack.
She whirled around to sprint away from her assailant
but came face-to-face with two more lizard men who had
crept up behind her in silence.
Her shriek of terror was cut short when something
small and round hit the back of her head. She pawed through
her yellow-green hair until she found a wet spot. Her
vision began to blur as it read the tragic story upon her
crimson fingertips.
Unable to control her legs, she fell to the soft
ground near the edge of the lake, blearily staring up into
the black sky as the lizard men approached her. She could
hear them hissing and clicking at each other in a rhythm
that she could tell was filled with joy. Why wouldn’t they
celebrate? They finally caught their dinner.
Out of the corner of her watering eye, she saw the
three-clawed toes and dewclaw of one of the lizard men
settle into the earth beside her head. In desperation, she
wrapped her arm around the beast-man’s scaly leg. While the
strength drained from her, she attempted to knock the
hunter backward, but her efforts only earned her a jarring
blow to the side of the head. The impact of the lizard
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man’s wooden staff left a salty taste in her mouth and made
the world spin.
Few lived to tell the tale of the lizard men’s feeding
ritual, but one elf in her tribe had: Arol. The elder had
spun a tale not unlike the one she was living now. Chased,
wounded, and caught: the hunters bit off his right arm
before he was rescued. No one will save me. They are going
to eat me alive.
The young woman squeezed her eyes shut, well aware
that even if she had kept them open, she would not have
seen much more than a blur. She may have been powerless
before her attackers, and too badly hurt to fight, but that
did not mean she was willing to watch herself be eaten.
The edge of a stone blade cut lightly into her hip,
and her body tensed up. The end was coming—the lizard men
were stripping her of her clothes just as Arol had
described in his horrifying tale. Her sense of
defenselessness became crushing when her skirt was torn
from her hips. The thought of one of the lizard men sinking
his teeth into the meat of her thigh sent a wave of terror
through her body, and it escaped in a scratchy scream.
A cold, clawed hand brushed against her face and
shoved something dry into her mouth to silence her. She
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gagged, familiar with the taste of leather—no doubt a scrap
from her own skirt. I don’t want to die.
Claws pierced her blouse, digging ever so lightly into
her skin before dragging themselves across each of her
breasts, tearing away the last bits of her attire. The same
fear that sealed her eyes now opened them. Blurry and dark,
she could not see much of anything until she focused on her
own image in the reflective surface of a lizard man’s chest
scales. Hypnotized by the reflection, she watched her naked
body vibrate with panic.
Something warm and sticky struck her leg, but before
she could look down, she felt something else smack against
her chest and move across her collar bone. Tala gazed down
her nose and was met with the sight of a long, thin, pink
tongue attached to her body, trailing saliva.
She tried again to struggle but two great weights
pinned her arms down. Her eyelids fluttered as she fell
into a swoon, but then an ominously stern voice cut through
the darkness. “Leave the girl alone, lizard men of the Garhut-tu tribe. The elf will not be your meal this evening.”
Could one of my former tribesmen come to save me?
“Leave now, and seek your sustenance elsewhere. This
is your final warning.” The voice, which the half-conscious
elf now identified as female, spoke loud and clear.
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Suddenly free of the weight on her arms, Tala sat up
and blinked her eyes slowly. For a moment, all she saw was
the darkness of night painted over the trees and bushes
near the path; then, all shapes and colors washed away in
the most brilliant flash of pure white light she had ever
seen. When her eyes cleared, she watched one of the lizard
men stumble back into view. In almost slow motion, the
creature moved, hissing in agony as his body slowly
crumbled like dry soil and blew away in the wind.
She turned her head against a formidable, spiking pain
in her neck.
“Tala Silver Wolf.”
The young elf finally laid eyes on the owner of the
powerful voice. “Y-yes?”
“I have been waiting for you.”
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Chapter 1
Commencement
He was much heavier than he looked, but then again
unconscious bodies always were misleading. Opal was
learning as she went—this was a lesson her aching muscles
would remind her of for days to come. She would have called
upon her magic to carry the man, but a powerful spell would
be required to finally put her plan into motion.
Opal took one last long look at her project after
laying his head down in the mossy forest grass. Karn was
the man of her dreams, and she could not wait to love him
and to be loved by him. This will work, she told herself
for the thousandth time. This will work.
Wispy light, like thin, pink mist, formed around both
of their heads. She was the key that unlocked the jumbled
mess inside his mind. Without her, he would be useless to
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the others. I made sure of it, my love. I had to or risk
my… our well-being.
Opal knew the magical energy that filled her body had
its limits, but she had not yet reached them. At times, she
felt so powerful, she thought she could move the world—this
was not one of those times. She had taxed her body over the
past two days with little sleep and nourishment to
replenish it. It was not the magic that ebbed; it was her
body. Opal needed rest desperately.
A sour sensation in her stomach made her want to
retch, as the spell she cast ended. With a look to the sky,
Opal calculated. Karn will wake up when the sun is directly
above the treetops; there’s just enough time for a quick
meal and a short slumber.
She staggered off toward her cabin until she heard a
fatigued voice emerge from behind her.
“Mage, you’ve taken your last breath!” Like a howling
animal, the man’s shout tore the peaceful quiet from the
forest around her.
The old man, clearly born of elf blood as could be
seen by his tall, pointed ears and angular brow, continued
to scream as he charged with sword held high. As to where
he had come from, Opal had no idea. Her thoughts were
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dominated by only one thing: Could all my work be cut short
by the rusty blade of a stranger’s long sword?
Opal ducked under his initial swing and called for a
defensive spell, a magical shield, but no sooner had the
spell begun to form when it oddly vanished. She felt warm
and faint. Without the ability to concentrate, my power is
worthless.
“Your kind has set ruin to our world. Today, I will
cleanse this forest with your blood!”
With her hands and feet in the grass, Opal scrambled
for cover like a panicked animal. As her head spun, she
could hear the words of the High Council echo inside her
mind. She would not allow them the satisfaction of being
right. Not now, not ever.
At risk of succumbing to unconsciousness, Opal stood
her ground against her assailant. The old man seemed as
exhausted as she was, breathing heavily and sweating
profusely, but in his eyes was an energy she had never seen
before. This man is going to kill me or die trying.
He should have run her through with his sword when he
lunged forward, but Opal had created a small portal in
front of her body, one large enough to protect her from
chest to groin. When his sword and arm entered the
crackling violet vortex, she snapped the portal shut, and
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transported the metal and flesh to a location in the
southern sea.
He fell into her, the stump of his bleeding arm
ramming into her belly. The impact knocked her backward,
and everything went dark.
When she opened her eyes, she did not know how much
time had passed. What happened? Where is he? She remembered
a fight, but its conclusion was unclear. Her beige dress
was covered in blood. She cast her eyes toward Karn and
sighed in relief. He was still asleep. My plan has not yet
been spoiled.
She got up slowly, her eyes finding the elven man
lying motionless behind her. His wound–his missing arm–
should’ve killed him but had not. Somehow, the old man was
still breathing, his chest rising and falling in rapid
succession.
Opal visually examined the man for other weapons but
found none. In fact, the man had nothing apart the rags he
wore for clothes. Who is he? she wondered. Why would he
come here? Now?
Her curiosity came to a quick end when she saw his
eyes flutter, working to open.
Opal snatched up a rock and squeezed it so tight in
her hand that she felt its corners dig into her flesh. With
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a swing similar to when she pounded bread, she smashed the
man’s nose and then bashed in his teeth. Over and over, she
slammed the rock into the man’s face, until her arm was
coated to the elbow in gore. When there was nothing left
but grass and mud, she stopped and inhaled her first breath
in she did not know how long.
It’s over, she told herself. No. It’s all set to
begin.
Opal shook her head in disgust and disappointment. She
would have to remove the body first and clean herself up.
After tossing the rock to the side, she grabbed the man by
his ankles. Lifeless bodies are so much heavier than they
look.
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Chapter 2
Birth
The screams of wounded men deafened him as he opened
his eyes to the blinding glare of sunlight off a damaged
shield. Were it not for the echo of his own breath in his
ears, he would have believed himself to be nothing more
than the soul of a warrior, floating off, on its way to the
cherished afterlife. Yet he was alive, even though chaos
had surrounded him on all sides.
The enemy’s cavalry charge had decimated his troops
and scattered the few men still alive and on their feet. To
his left were thirteen of his luckier soldiers, unharmed
and ready for combat. To his right, a fog of thick dust
swirled around the horses that passed through his lines. He
tried to ignore the cries of wounded men behind him but
could not. When he turned, he saw the ruins of a small town
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coughing black smoke up into the pale blue sky. My home.
Gone.
Another group of men, all wearing familiar black-andpurple sigils, rushed to his side. They screamed and
pointed in the direction of the dust cloud. He might have
heard their words if not for a new sound, one that would
have made his heart jump from his chest had it not been
caged by thick plates of armor.
Enemy foot soldiers advanced through the dust cloud in
five long combat lines, all pounding the flats of their
weapons against their shields as they marched. The warrior
forcibly shed his fear with a blood-chilling howl. He
raised his axe above his head, then slammed its handle down
against the left breast of his armor. As he rushed the
front line of enemy soldiers, he saw his comrades out of
the corner of his eye. Although greatly outnumbered, those
who could still grip a weapon joined.
Unlike his own men, the enemy soldiers wore the
cleanest armor and tabards he had ever seen—a detail he
employed to fuel his rage. As he engaged his first
combatant, he ordered his men to soil as many of the pretty
kingdom soldiers as they could before giving their lives up
to the god of war.
Kill them all.
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His axe was an extension of his hatred for the enemy,
as it crashed down, splitting the helmet of one man before
burying itself in the leg of another. With his shield
braced to his shoulder, he rammed his way into the crowd of
opponents in a savage rage. His men liked to call it a
death wish, but he simply preferred to fight surrounded,
where every swing of his axe would strike a body that stood
against him.
Madly slicing high and low, he dispatched man after
man. Blood splashed around him, painting friend and foe
alike.
A crushing blow shook his frame. Delivered to the
small of his back in the form of a war hammer, the impact
jarred his whole body forward. As he turned to face his
attacker, he was stabbed in his shoulder. For several
blinks, his vision blurred, giving two rival soldiers the
opportunity to grab his arms, while another, much smaller,
man aimed his sword at his belly. The enemy had him. Even
as the thin, flat blade pierced his stomach, he growled
with fury, spitting blood on one of the men holding him.
His enemies tightened their grips, but the warrior
still broke free. He reversed the hold the soldier on his
left had, and shoved him into the path of the shorter man’s
bloody sword. His flesh-shield bought him only the briefest
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respite, as the glimmer of sharp weapons sparkled in every
direction.
“Kill you all!”
After only one staggering step, his legs buckled and
he fell headlong onto the soft earth. He fought to stand,
gripping the loose soil as he pushed up. But his strength,
like his life, faded with each drop of blood that spilled
from his body. He could hear his foes cheer—a final sign
that his forces were defeated. As the world around him
faded to nothing, he heard one last cheer: “Death to the
warlord!”
***
Karn opened his eyes in astonishment. He hadn’t known
what to expect—certainly not a deep autumn forest, pine
trees so tall he had to tilt his head all the way back to
see the tops surrounding him. As he sat on the soft bluegreen grass, Karn’s heavy heart raced. He tried to make
sense of the last thing he remembered. A battle, blood,
death—it seemed so familiar. He tried to disregard the
images as nothing more than a dream, but they seemed
hauntingly real.
He spotted an old lumberjack’s axe nearby, its wooden
handle wrapped in leather so thin and dry it looked as if
it would crumble at a touch. Is this axe the reason why I’m
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here in the forest? Picking it up, Karn gauged its weight.
He thought back to the axe from his daydream: large and
sharp, with runes etched into its blade and down its steel
handle. The war axe from his dream, he recalled, felt right
at home gripped in his hand. But this chopping axe felt as
foreign as the land surrounding him.
Karn swung the axe at the tree as he imagined a
lumberjack would. The blade buried itself in the soft bark
with a thud. Still gripping the handle, Karn shook his
head. No, this is not the feeling I remember. He tugged the
axe free while sequences from his memories flashed in his
head. I didn’t sink my axe into trees–I sunk it into men:
enemies of my kin. Although he told himself the visions
that flooded his mind were only a dream, the fury of battle
still built up inside him.
Karn gnashed his teeth, swung the axe over his head,
and released it on the tree in a slicing motion. The
vibration of the strike up his forearm felt good, so he
swung again and again. Slivers of dry bark flew from the
tree, soon replaced by the splatter of gooey sap from
fresh, green wood.
Engrossed in his attack, Karn did not hear the crunch
of dry leaves beneath approaching feet. It was not until
the person shouted that he ceased his assault.
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“Karn! What are you doing?”
A young woman stood only fifteen feet away. Upon
seeing her, Karn’s violent mood instantly washed away. As
he looked her up and down, he noted her style of dress. It
was different from most of the young ladies of his
kingdom’s court. She wore a blouse and a skirt, not unlike
a commoner or farmer, yet hers were noticeably cleaner than
most. Her body was tall and lean, which he felt agreed well
with the style of her garb. Karn recognized her long, wavy,
red hair. He remembered the cream-colored skin of her face
and the sharp upturn of her lips. He was sure he knew this
young woman intimately, but no matter how hard he tried to
remember, her name escaped him.
“You’ve been resting in my father’s cabin for almost
five days. This morning when I rose, you were gone. I was
scared to death,” the young woman said, her voice shaky.
“I woke up out here.” He shrugged.
“You’re still recovering from your injuries, my
dearest love. You shouldn’t be running about the forest.”
As the woman drew closer, Karn could see her eyes. Not
only were they filled with concern, but her irises were two
different colors: one blue, one green. The sight caused
something to flicker deep in his memory.
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“Opal,” he announced. “Your parents gave you that
nickname when you were seven summer cycles old because your
eyes turned two different colors.”
“Yes, Karn.”
Karn tried to make sense of his current situation, but
there were no answers in his mind, no recollections to call
from, nothing more than a wall of emptiness that stretched
on forever both horizontally and vertically.
“What happened to me? How did I get out here?”
Opal stepped up to Karn. Standing nearly chest to
chest with him, she reached up and placed her hand on his
shoulder. She gazed deep into his eyes and was silent for a
moment before speaking.
“Are you having trouble remembering?” Opal brushed her
warm fingertips across his temple. “You remember me, don’t
you?”
Karn called upon his memory again, this time
discovering dozens of recollections–times he and Opal spent
together.
“You and I are lovers; we hope to raise a family
together one day.”
“Yes, we’re lovers.” Opal spoke shyly as she stepped
around him to the tree he had been savagely hacking.
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“Why do I feel so lost?” He shook his head with
frustration.
Karn thought back and found more memories of Opal.
While these moments appeared with ease, he strained to
catch even the smallest fragments of time he had spent
alone or with others.
“I belong somewhere…” Karn rubbed his head.
“Do not pressure yourself, Karn,” Opal said as she
stared at the deep gashes in the tree. “You were wounded in
the invasion; you suffered a grave head wound and should
have died. You’re very fortunate the horse I gifted you was
trained to return here if lost.”
Karn stepped to her side in time to hear the words
trickle from her crimson lips. His heart sank into his
stomach and his body felt cold. For a moment, he feared
that his feet were going to float up off the ground,
toppling him over.
“Invasion?”
Opal distanced herself from Karn, and waved her hands
around in a circular motion. From her palms, an orange
colored smoke sprayed and took the shape of an oblong
window. This is impossible… No, I remember this. This is
magic. Opal’s magic.
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Inside the smoky frame was a vision unlike any Karn
remembered. The image, not dissimilar from an oil painting,
was soft and slightly blurry, which caused him to squint.
As he stared in amazement, Opal began to speak.
“Weiden’s Rise was ambushed by a marauding warlord.
Outnumbered, she fell quickly, but not before her generals
issued two poignant commands.”
As she spoke, the scene inside the smoky frame
changed, like pages turning in a book. Images of his
kingdom with an enormous army besieging its gates brought
back the violent feeling he had had only moments ago.
“Your father, one of the kingdom’s highest ranking
generals, ordered you and the cavalry under your command to
protect the citizens of Weiden’s Rise as they fled via a
secret tunnel. Another unit of cavalry, led by the king’s
brother, was dispatched to engage the enemy and distract
them from your egress.”
“I remember this,” Karn whispered as the images
shifted from one static scene to the next, displaying
exactly what Opal described.
“The king’s brother tried but could not keep the
attention of the enemy. Their scouts discovered the
tunnel’s mouth. Before you could lead all the citizens from
the tunnel, into the forest, the enemy dispatched its
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fastest riders, a legion mixed of horse archers and light
cavalry.”
Karn recognized the next scene—it was him and his men
surrounded by the women and children of Weiden’s Rise. As
her magic summoned the image, he gasped. No… I failed… The
citizens he had been ordered to protect were running in
fright, some injured while others lay dead, pierced by many
arrows. He spotted himself in the picture, fighting off the
enemy’s cavalry while using his horse to defend a fleeing
family.
“Refusing to retreat even when it was clear your
efforts were futile, you and your men saved hundreds,
Karn.”
“I was run through…” Karn said, recalling his dream.
“No,” Opal quickly replied. “As you raced to the
forest’s edge to rescue a group of children, you rode
directly into a group of twenty enemy cavalry. Karn, you
saved those children, but not without a cost. You were
struck down by a war hammer.”
The last image Karn saw was that of himself slumped
over his horse. His blood had painted streaks down his face
as well as the flanks of his mount.
“You found me?” he said, as the orange smoke
dissipated and blew away in the cool fall breeze.
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“Yes, when I returned from my studies, I found you
lying unconscious, your horse watching over you. You looked
half-dead.” Opal paused to catch her breath. “I used my
magic to heal you, but your wounds were severe, the worst I
have ever tended to.”
Opal’s story had made him anxious, he was now
sweating, his brow soaked. He could see the concern in her
eyes. She watches me so closely. Am I still ill… or does
she fear me?
“Calm yourself, my love.”
“I cannot.”
Karn’s anger swelled as he thought of his father,
defeated and most likely dead at the hand of this nameless
warlord.
“You know my training, as a court healer has given me
a keen eye to the conditions of man,” Opal said softly.
“That vein in your neck, it only pulses when you are
angry.”
“My kingdom conquered!” Karn growled. “My family
dead!”
“Karn, please, don’t allow yourself to be overcome
with these emotions–not when there’s so much you can still
achieve.”
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“Still achieve? Why? Does the warlord remain in
Weiden’s Rise?” Karn asked, his mind racing.
Opal placed her hand on his chest and looked deep into
his eyes. Her proximity made him uncomfortable, so he
glanced away, all but missing the flash of magical energy
that emanated from her eyes: green and blue, matching the
color of each iris.
“You cannot confront the warlord alone. You need my
help,” Opal said clearly and slowly. “Allow me to take you
to my teachers at the High Council; they can aid us in this
coming conflict.”
“I need help.”
“Yes.” Opal nodded.
“Very well, let us seek out your teachers.”
Opal smiled before she leaned in and gave Karn a brief
kiss on the lips. “I need you to rest first. Can you rest
for me?”
“I can.”
“Good. We’ll make the journey later tonight.”
“Good. Until then I will rest.”
***
Opal watched Karn turn and march off in the direction
she had come from, as if guided by an invisible breadcrumb
trail to the location of her cabin. Once he disappeared
P a g e | 28
from view, she shifted her attention to the shadows
painting the trees around her.
“All clear,” she said confidently.
From high above, near the tops of the great pines of
the forest, the man she called her teacher lowered himself
slowly. Malek was her head trainer and the overseer of her
special mission. In his late sixties, Malek stood tall and
thin, covered in the formal mage’s robes that only the
instructors of the High Council were permitted to wear. He
ran his hand through his tight-cropped white hair,
scratching lightly, then down his cheek to his thick
goatee. When he spoke, he did so in a deep, commanding
voice.
“You must pay closer attention to your surroundings,
fledgling.”
“What? I—”
“It has been less than a week since we enchanted him
with the Ancient Warlord’s Soul spell. This boy here might
be our last chance to defeat our enemy. There’s no room for
childish mistakes.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Opal said impatiently,
crossing her arms.
The old mage gave her the same look he always gave her
when her rebellious nature flared. Using his long, ornate
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staff like a cane, he walked toward the tree that Karn had
assaulted. Opal watched her teacher examine the cuts. He no
doubt realizes just how deep they are now. Karn is much
stronger than they ever imagined.
“Fascinating,” he said after he cleared his throat.
“However, it remains obvious to me that he requires much
battle testing.”
“I agree.”
“Very well then. Ferry him to the fortress, so we can
evaluate his abilities appropriately…” The old man paused
to glare at Opal. “As we do all our students.”
“I already convinced him that he needs to visit the
High Council in search of aid,” Opal replied, smirking. “We
will be there later tonight, and then you may do as you
wish, Malek.”
“I always do as I wish, fledgling.”
P a g e | 30
Chapter 3
Deception
Karn awoke suddenly, with a yell. He sat up in bed and
touched the back of his head, running his hand down his
neck and then to his shoulders, searching for a wound. He
fully expected to find blood, or at the very least a tender
bruise, and was puzzled when his seeking hands discovered
nothing but nappy, tangled hair.
The wooden floor of Opal’s cabin felt foreign beneath
his feet as he stepped slowly from the bed. Once upright,
he lumbered for a few shaky footsteps before he reached an
old, silver mirror hanging on the wall. When he peered into
the ornate, hand-carved mirror, he was stunned by the
reflection. What returned his gaze was a face he almost did
not recall as his own. Perhaps it was because his brown
P a g e | 31
hair, normally tied back, hung untidily down past his
shoulders, and his beard had become scraggly and unkempt.
Once again, he tried to piece together the events that led
up to this strange day, but the fog inside his head was
still too thick.
Karn shuffled out of the small bedroom into the main
room, which was a combination of kitchen and workshop. He
took a long look around, but all he saw seemed unfamiliar.
Tiny bottles cluttered the countertops and shelves, some
labeled with names of herbs while others were filled with
unidentified fluids. A wreath of dried lilac hung over a
window across from him and a basket of assorted fruit sat
on the kitchen table. A stout-looking door led to the same
woodland scene from that morning. As Karn peered through
the doorway, he spied Opal sitting on the verdant earth.
“Karn, you’re awake,” she said as she stood and
brushed grass from her wrinkled skirt.
“What happened to me?” he asked.
She darted to him and wrapped her arms around his wide
chest. “You fell asleep, my love,” she whispered in his
ear. “Let’s go inside. We need to prepare for our trip to
the High Council’s fortress.”
The moment she released her grip, he felt oddly
compelled to speak. “I remember being a soldier enlisted in
P a g e | 32
the army of Weiden’s Rise. I remember you and my father,
yet there are still giant holes in my past. Opal, do you
think your teachers could restore my memory with their
magic?”
“You worry too much, my love. Even if little by
little, I’m sure your memories, like your wounds, will heal
over time.”
Karn snatched her hand even as she turned away from
him; he needed answers.
“How old am I? How long have we been lovers? Opal, I
cannot remember my mother’s name, let alone what my—”
“You are twenty-five summers old, and I’m twenty-one,”
she stated, peeling his hand off her wrist. “Your mother’s
name was… Elizabeth.”
Opal stepped around Karn and into the cabin, but he
lingered outside. Birds sang all around him while the scent
of flowers floated through the trees. This place, its
abundant serenity–it relaxes me. I could stay here forever…
but I need vengeance first.
“I need my gear, Opal,” Karn said as he joined her in
the cabin.
“Gear?”
“My packs, armor, shield, sword—my gear.”
“Yes, of course. Follow me.”
P a g e | 33
Karn followed Opal to a storage closet at the rear of
the kitchen. After opening it, she pointed to a stack of
wooden crates. On each crate, a name was scrawled in grey
chalk. One crate was labeled with her mother’s name, the
second with her father’s, and the last one with Karn’s.
Karn picked up the crate, immediately noticing its lack of
heaviness when he carried it to the dining table.
Karn’s chest filled with trepidation. When he finally
pulled open the lid, he was struck with a wave of nausea.
Is this all that remains of my life: a sword, a buckler,
boots, a small bag of coins, and an empty pack? There has
to be more.
Karn lifted the sword out of the crate and took a long
look at it. The chiseled iron hilt was one-and-one-half
hands long. Weiden’s Rise’s symbol, a serpent with heads at
both ends, was engraved on the handle with the words
“Strength, Loyalty, Cavalry” just below. Oddly, the
scabbard did not match the sword; instead, it was plain,
hardened leather, devoid of design. Not wasting another
moment, Karn strapped the sword to his belt and then placed
the buckler shield in his pack.
***
Opal paced the floor behind him, desperately searching
for answers to his inevitable questions. You-you prepared
P a g e | 34
for this moment, Opal. Don’t allow your nerves to undo you.
She fiddled with a jar of red moon leaves, an herb she
collected for healing purposes. Hopefully, he has not
noticed your tension. You’re stronger than this. You’re
better—
“Opal, where’s my armor?” he asked, lacing his boots.
Deafened by the thousands of words jumbled inside her
head, she did not respond at first. When he repeated
himself, his words struck her like stones.
“Opal, what did you do with my armor?”
“Y-you were mortally wounded, Karn!” Her voice rose as
she stared down at the jars, unwilling to make eye contact
with him as she lied. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t unhook the
latches to your armor, so I used my magic to remove it.”
“Then it’s here?” Karn stood up. “Someplace?”
“No, Karn, it’s not.” Opal slammed her fist onto the
counter before her. “I was panicked… I dissolved it off
you. It’s gone—destroyed.”
When she finished speaking, the cabin went quiet. Opal
crossed her arms and shifted her weight from one foot to
the other, swaying her hips.
The sun seemed to crawl a full degree across the sky
before Karn moved, striding steadily across the room in
complete silence. When he gripped Opal’s hips in his big
P a g e | 35
hands, her arms jerked nervously and knocked a jar of herbs
off the counter. It shattered on the hard wooden floor, its
contents scattering at their feet. Opal gazed down at the
mess but caught Karn’s eyes locked keenly onto her body.
“There’s no time for this,” she squeaked, sensing his
intent.
Opal pushed back from Karn’s arms. She planted one
foot firmly into the spilled herbs, her bootheel slipped,
and she tumbled backward to her seat.
Red faced, she stood quickly and brushed the brittle
remains of the leaves from her.
“We need to go.”
“We need to go,” he repeated, but in his tone she
heard no real intention of leaving.
Karn seized Opal by the belt of her skirt and then
pulled her hard into a tight embrace. A sour taste entered
her mouth as her heart pounded heavily. She had long
desired this moment, so much so that she felt like her
insides were about to explode. Opal could not bring herself
to look him in the eye, so she moved her hands up and down
his body as she gave into passion.
His rough hands tilted her chin up. Opal saw his eyes
shortly before her breath was stolen by a forceful kiss.
The heat of his body against hers and the saltiness of his
P a g e | 36
mouth further excited her. Before she knew it, Karn had
gathered both her hands in one of his. Arms pinned high
above her head, Opal danced on the tips of her toes.
“Karn?”
She held eye contact with him until he ran his other
hand down her neck, past her bosom, to the strings on her
blouse. He fumbled to untie them, eventually opting to yank
the blouse down to reveal her breasts.
“Karn?”
He ran his palm back and forth over her chest. Opal
was unsure what would come next and shuddered in desire and
anticipation. When Karn at long last squeezed her breasts,
it was with a firmness that started off hard but softened
by the time he reached her nipples.
Intoxicated with desire, Opal wanted to scream just to
expel the energy that had built inside her. She struggled
to free her hands, and when they were loose, she pounced on
Karn and pulled his shirt off in one quick tug. While she
gazed upon his handsome face, she ran her hands down his
chiseled stomach to his leather pants and then hooked them
around the top of the garment.
“Do you love me?” she whispered, her forehead pressed
to his lips.
“I always have.”
P a g e | 37
“That, Karn, was exactly what I needed to hear.” Opal
tilted her head back, her mouth nearly in contact with his.
When Opal paused, Karn took charge. He kissed her with
his lips parted, as if to devour her soft skin little by
little. Pants off, he unhooked her skirt and yanked it
roughly to the ground. I’m ready for this, she thought as
she took his manhood in hand. I’m ready.
“I’m ready for you, Karn.”
Opal released a shuddering gasp as Karn entered her.
After the initial pain, her body tingled and she wanted
more. Her thoughts rang out with words she was too shy to
speak. Deeper, Karn. I want you deeper inside me.
Back pinned against the counter, Opal lifted her leg
and wrapped it around his waist.
Each thrust felt better than the one before. Opal
prayed the sensation would never stop, just build and build
until she could no longer endure it. Time was lost to her,
and when the blissful feeling came to a sudden halt, it did
so with a powerful spike of pleasure that made her entire
body quake. As she collapsed into him, she thought, You are
mine now, Karn. All mine.
***
Uncomfortable with the silence in the room as she
dressed, Opal listed a collection of items for Karn to
P a g e | 38
gather in the kitchen while she escaped to pack her bag in
the adjoining room. She took her time stuffing her knapsack
with the few items she had wanted to ferry back to her room
at the High Council, all the while consumed by the thoughts
of what she had just done.
She could not remember the last time she felt this
joyful, and she was sure of one thing: her life had finally
taken a step in the right direction. But the idea also
frightened her worse than anything—even worse than the
invading warlord. Happiness, after all these years, has
come with a price. Are you still willing to pay it, Opal?
Anxiety gripped her heart and a flood of concerns
filled her head. Am I doing the right thing? She breathed
in slowly, calming her nerves.
“Ready?” she asked as she reentered the kitchen.
“Ready.”
Opal walked out into the night air and dropped her
bag. The portal spell she was about to call upon was one
taught to all second-level magic students, and was the only
way she knew of in and out of the mages’s fortress. Being
in her fourth level of study, it was little more than a
reflex, but her cluttered mind made it more of a chore.
Karn, she thought as she gazed at him and then down at her
blouse. He tore my clothing and made love to me like a…
P a g e | 39
like a barbarian. I-I wish there was someone-anyone to talk
to. Who can I talk to about this?
Eyes closed, Opal pushed out all her aberrant
thoughts. With a practiced breath, Opal drew deep upon the
powers that resided inside her and summoned the portal to
the High Council’s fortress.
The already dark sky grew murky, dabs of purple
outlining the black clouds that rolled across the horizon.
A chill wind gusted through the forest. It lapped at Opal’s
bare arms as purple sheet lightning filled the sky.
She turned again to face Karn. She wanted to observe
his reaction to her spell and was not surprised to spot his
eyes wide with amazement.
Through the pulsating glow of her magic, Opal saw him
speaking, but the loud whistle of wind snatched up the
words before they reached her. Slowly, she raised her arms
above her head and channeled the energy she had built into
a ball of light that hovered before her. The orb of magical
energy crackled and opened like a giant mouth, its aperture
a pit of darkness that swallowed everything around—from
passing moths to the dry leaves that rested atop the grass.
“Opal!” Karn shouted.
Opal walked around the portal and smiled as she said,
“Time to go.”
P a g e | 40
“I thought it swallowed you too,” he said. “Is it
safe?”
“You’ve seen me open and use portals for many months
now.”
“I don’t recall ever seeing such a thing before in my
life.” Karn pointed at the portal, which shook in a way
that made the mouth appear as if it were breathing. “It
looks almost as if it’s alive.”
Opal tugged on his belt. “You know I would never harm
you with any of my magic, Karn.”
“I know.”
“Good. We need to hurry, my love.”
Hand in hand, they stepped through the portal to the
other side: the High Council of Mages’s mountaintop
fortress.
P a g e | 41
Chapter 4
Return
I hope I haven’t made a dire mistake, Opal thought
when she considered how odd Karn might find the place and
how many new questions he may have.
Behind them, the portal snapped shut, a pile of dirt
and a hazy cloud of violet smoke left in its wake.
“Are we here?” Karn asked as he languidly stepped
toward the half-wall perimeter of the large stone balcony
he stood upon.
Opal watched Karn through slitted eyes as he turned
around and tilted his head backward to take in the full
extent of the large, stone structure built into the side of
the mountain. The mages’ fortress was partially constructed
of carved stone blocks, similar to the keeps and castles
found across the land. The remainder of the fortress
P a g e | 42
appeared to be molded from the rock from the mountain,
sharing its rough angles and mossy color. Further up, more
interesting details could be discovered. The fortress’s
highest towers were painted a stark shade of white,
reminiscent of the snow-covered mountain peaks.
“Looks like snow.” Karn pointed to the tall towers.
Opal laughed.
“The ancient archmages designed the fortress so that,
when seen from afar, it would blend into the side of the
mountain.”
“So this whole place was created by magic?”
“Yes.”
“Where does all this magical power come from? I mean,
it has to come from someplace, right?”
Opal had often wondered that herself, but it was
information the archmages never fully divulged. They only
ever said that it was a precious secret that they could not
divulge to students. Embarrassed and frustrated that she
couldn’t answer Karn, Opal changed the subject.
“We must hurry. The warlord could be on the move.
There’s no time to waste.”
“Right.”
Opal guided Karn through a stone archway into a long
tunnel that led to the main chambers of the school section
P a g e | 43
of the High Council’s fortress. Malek halted their steps
before they had gone no more than twenty feet into the
tunnel. Startled, Opal jumped back and bumped into Karn.
Where did Malek come from? I-I didn’t sense him.
Karn stepped around Opal, and she watched him tense
and fill with raw reserves of strength. Hand outstretched,
palm flat, Karn drew his sword and shouted, “Halt!”
Opal froze, as she watched Malek pay Karn no mind and
continue to move toward them at a measured pace. Karn’s
going to kill him. When the two men reached each other, and
Karn’s palm pressed against the old man’s chest, Malek
finally acknowledged him.
Malek put his hand on Karn’s face and murmured a spell
Opal had never heard before. A puff of thick yellow dust
shot from Malek’s palm. At first, the dust cloud only
caused Karn to wince, but as soon as he inhaled, his knees
buckled. Opal screamed when she saw Karn’s head bounce back
and forth, his body sway.
“Malek, stop!” she scolded her teacher.
Karn stumbled forward and fell, his body slamming into
the rough stone floor like a sack of grain. Opal squealed
and threw herself down beside him.
“What did you do, Malek?”
P a g e | 44
“I put the boy to sleep. You see, fledgling, there’s
been a small change in plans,” he announced. “The archmages
and I feel your decision to bring him here was… unwise.”
Red-faced with anger, Opal spit out her next words.
“You knew I was bringing him here! You agreed with it! You—
”
“Young one,” he said, with a shake of his head.
“There’s no need to further the ruse. Simply use your charm
spells to convince him that your trip here was a success.”
“I thought you wanted to battle test him, Malek,” Opal
grumbled as she stroked Karn’s hair.
“Summon lizard men or perhaps some trolls; have him
battle them outside your father’s cabin. That should be all
the testing required.”
Opal brushed away the hair that had fallen in her
face. She repeated a rhyme her father had taught her when
she was a young girl to calm her nerves. Most instances it
worked, but this time, Malek’s blatant disrespect was too
much to wash away with childish rhymes. As her instructor
turned his back, Opal’s eyes flashed green and blue. She
called upon a spell she’d learned a long time ago and
mentally prepared herself to strike out at her teacher. I
will see you dead, Malek.
P a g e | 45
Before she could launch her rage-driven assault, a
mousy voice spoke from the balcony behind her.
“Opal? I knew I sensed you were back.”
It was Elizabeth, her oldest friend. Up from the
flagstone floor came a spout of water. As the fountain grew
in size, it bulged in the middle. The protuberance wobbled
up into the air, defying gravity. Upon reaching Opal’s
height, it stopped and held eerily still. As Opal drew
closer, she pointed a finger at the blob of water and then
pressed the digit directly into it. Suddenly, the water
fell to the ground, and from within it, a young woman
emerged. Soaked from head to toe, Elizabeth smirked at her
friend whose index finger rested directly on the tip of her
nose.
“How do you always do that?” Elizabeth giggled.
“I’m a good guesser,” Opal said with a smirk. “I see
you still haven’t figured a way around the inevitable
wetness of your water transportation spell.”
“The Water Conduit.” Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, I still
end up soaked every time.”
“Which is better than ending up all covered in dirt!”
they both said at the same time.
P a g e | 46
Elizabeth added, “I haven’t practiced the Earth
Conduit spell in nearly as many weeks as it’s been since I
last saw you.”
Opal wrapped her arms around her friend. “I missed
you.”
“And I have yet to figure out my Wind Conduit spell,”
Elizabeth said as they hugged. “Perhaps you could help me?”
“You’re much more powerful than I am, Elizabeth,” Opal
said. “You’ll perfect it soon enough.”
“More powerful than you? Not likely!”
A few cycles younger than Opal, Elizabeth had joined
the High Council just over three summers previously, at
fifteen. Being the only two members of their discipline of
magic gave the young women insights into each other’s lives
few could understand—which made for instant friendship.
Like Opal, Elizabeth was a geomancer, one who channeled
magic from nature. Elizabeth was able to cast spells over
and over again, all day long, as the amount of power she
was able to store seemed limitless. This would have made
her the top student, unseating Opal—if it were not for her
limited mental capacity. Growing up with physically abusive
parents had wounded her so deeply that her mind shut out
many things, including the ability to learn offensive
spells. Regardless, the other students thought Elizabeth
P a g e | 47
knew how to use at least one offensive spell—the fireball—
because it had been a sudden and unexplained fire that
destroyed her parent’s house the night before she joined
the High Council.
“My repertoire is so limited compared to yours,”
Elizabeth said. “That’s why you always get the special
assignments.” She peeked over Opal’s shoulder at Karn,
lying on the floor. “Is that him?”
“It is,” Opal laughed.
“Can I—”
“Take a closer look?” Opal interrupted.
Halfway to Karn, Elizabeth turned around. “Can I touch
him?” She knelt beside Karn.
Elizabeth’s long blonde hair, which normally swung
above her knees, spilled to the floor, some strands brushed
Karn’s chest as she ran her small, soft hands across his
face. “He is good-looking,” Elizabeth remarked with
amazement.
“I told you.”
“I cannot believe I’m touching him, the man you have
loved for so long.” Elizabeth looked sullen. “I witnessed
Malek put him to sleep. Is he being punished?”
P a g e | 48
Elizabeth walked back to Opal, a concerned look on her
face. Taking her friend’s hand in hers, Opal sighed loudly.
“No, I think I am.”
P a g e | 49
Chapter 5
Enactment
Bright candlelight blurred as it swirled around the
darkened room. Karn’s head felt heavy against the stone on
which it rested. Words overlapped like the tunes of a dozen
minstrels singing different songs. A searing heat touched
his feet yet did not burn his flesh. Instead, it
transformed into a sense of power—pure, unrefined power.
Karn could not identify the bizarre sensation, but he
did not panic. Whatever it was, he felt it was right. I
will be… I am fine.
Slowly, the spinning candlelight stopped, and he was
once again able to see. It was a mixed blessing.
Gaunt faces emerged from the blur, until the room was
full of them. A sea of transparent beings surrounded him,
their faces more detailed than their bodies. Karn could not
P a g e | 50
hear them; their once-loud drone had faded to whispers. Who
are they? he wondered. The fortress—these must be the
mages, he concluded. They must be performing a spell on me.
They must be restoring my memory; I will be… I am fine.
Eventually, Karn could clearly see a dozen men in the
crowd, but none of them were dressed as he imagined mages
would; instead, each man looked distinctly like a soldier.
In fact, he realized, they wore armor and held weapons.
Suddenly, the crowd lurched forward.
Karn spotted someone different as they moved. The
slender body of a woman stood out among the muscle and
metal. She was as grey as the others, but her hair stood
out: a stark white contrasting the black around her. When
the soldiers drew close enough to touch him, he lost track
of the wraithlike woman—nothing more than wispy bodies and
pallid faces filled his view.
Dozens—no hundreds—of hands stretched out in his
direction. Karn tensed up, fearful that these things—these
ghosts—would harm him with their inhuman touch.
“What do you want? What have you done to me?”
Karn spotted a larger man through the crowd. The big
man’s armor was thicker and blockier than Karn had ever
seen, and his face was hidden within an oversized, full
helmet.
P a g e | 51
“Who are you?”
The masses parted as the man moved; soon he stood at
Karn’s side.
“What are you waiting for?” Karn challenged. “Do what
you have come to do.”
The large man plunged his vaporous hand deep into
Karn’s chest, and terrified, Karn closed his eyes and
screamed.
***
“Don’t touch me!” Hands up, he recoiled.
“What?”
Opal’s face took focus. A look of concern marked her
attractive features. Something’s wrong, he thought. I
shouldn’t be here. I…
“You’re fine, Karn.” Opal’s smooth voice calmed him.
“Everything’s fine.”
Karn’s eyes fluttered and darted around. The small
pond outside Opal’s cabin. He felt lost. How… how did I get
here?
“What happened? What are we doing?”
“Resting and talking about the future,” Opal said
calmly as she wrapped her arms around him.
“No, I mean what are we doing here? How did we get
here?”
P a g e | 52
“Karn, we just returned from the High Council’s
fortress. We were talking. You were telling me about a
spell the mages cast on you.” Opal nodded, her eyes wide.
“Then you suddenly grew very quiet.”
Karn pondered the vision in his head. “I saw a group
of people. I-I think they were ghosts.”
He watched Opal grimace before she leaned her head on
his shoulder and allowed her long, silky red hair to spill
over his chest.
“What else do you remember?”
“Nothing.” Karn was not ready to talk about it. He was
still too frightened and confused. “Mostly, I remember lots
of people standing around, surrounding me. There were
candles and chanting too,” he said sullenly.
“You need to stop your worrying, my love. Stop your
worrying and concentrate on the future.”
“Our future?”
Opal laughed out loud. “Yes. Our future… and the
future of the land. We’ll travel to Weiden’s Rise and
investigate her fall tomorrow. The High Council said it is
empty, but perhaps there are clues to be found—information
such as where the invading warlord travels to next.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, Karn. Tomorrow.”
P a g e | 53
***
The next morning, Karn crept carefully out of bed so
not to wake his lover and to allow himself a moment to
prepare for the journey alone. He had not slept well; his
mind had raced with concerns all night. He gazed back at
Opal, in bed. Those sheets, so frilly and bright pink. They
are entirely unbefitting a soldier. No wonder I couldn’t
sleep.
His mind settled on his biggest concern. This trip
could be dangerous. I cannot risk Opal’s life. Regardless
of her power, it’s best to leave her here.
Karn stared ponderously at her. Opal was beautiful,
the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her skin was
soft, and her lips were as red and plump as strawberries.
He wished he could stay with her, but there was a nagging
sensation deep within him that made him feel like he needed
to be elsewhere. He knew he was wasting time but had become
entranced. She’s so…
The way her crimson hair lay across her pale face
slowly reminded him of bloody claw marks. He sighed and
blinked the sight away. The gods give me a bad omen.
“I must go alone,” Karn whispered softly as he brushed
the hair out of her face. “I will return soon. I promise.”
***
P a g e | 54
After nearly an entire morning’s walk, Weiden’s Rise
appeared to Karn across a vast, slumberous valley of grass
and wildflowers. The fortress was built upon a hill and was
the oldest standing structure in all of Illyia—built more
than four centuries ago, the mighty walls of Weiden’s Rise
outlasted ages of sieges, thanks to the efforts of
dedicated and skilled masons.
Known for her high towers and hilltop location,
Weiden’s Rise Castle itself was rather small, built from a
pale granite that lent its towers an ominous appearance
against dark, stormy skies. Of the eight towers, four stood
twice the height of the castle itself, giving the occupants
a clear view of the southern sea.
A broad curtain wall surrounded both the keep and its
courtyard. Inside the courtyard were two matching
fountains, one on the east side, the other on the west. A
path of polished stone bisected the court, continuing to a
small, stone terrace. Karn remembered it all vividly.
Rarely did the King of Weiden’s Rise order the
castle’s main gates closed—they were always open to the
town laid out in front of the castle and the many visitors
who came.
The town of Weiden’s Rise was of average size compared
to the other towns of Illyia. Most of the homes were
P a g e | 55
constructed of wood, though some of the oldest homes were
built of the same stone used to construct the castle. The
town grew around the castle in a ring, the outermost of
which was comprised of farms. Most noticeable of the town’s
designs was the single road that led in and out of Weiden’s
Rise, and stretched north to their closest ally of some
hundred cycles, the kingdom of Joa’Ta.
Karn stared at Weiden’s Rise Castle. He determined at
least two of its many towers were in ruins, likely the
result of powerful siege weapons. As he drew closer, the
destruction became even more painfully clear. With each
step through the tall green grass, his anger grew. His eyes
widened as he consumed the full scale of what had
transpired. By the time he was within three hundred yards
of the town walls, his steady walk had become a sprint.
Karn needed answers.
Weiden’s Rise’s gate and east wall had been completely
demolished. Even the stone debris left behind was ground
into small, gray-brown chunks. Karn leapt through one of
the gaping holes in the city wall and easily cleared a pile
of broken, charred stone.
“How’s this possible?” he muttered in shock.
He scanned the damaged town until he found the burnt
husk of a familiar building: the stables. The sight of the
P a g e | 56
tall building burnt nearly to the ground reminded him of a
time long ago when he was only a squire. Although somewhat
hazily, Karn remembered the days when his only
responsibility was to brush and feed Weiden’s Rise’s
cavalry steeds.
***
Late one night, when the only men awake were those
assigned to patrol the battlements, Karn slept soundly in
the stable loft. He stirred under his blanket as he woke,
and comprehended the scent that had roused him: smoke. As
he peered over the edge of the loft, he saw nothing but
yellow-orange flames.
He shouted for help; he knew the stables would not
withstand a blaze like this. A wall of fire formed below,
separating him from the cavalry horses. The horses whinnied
and kicked to free themselves from their bonds. It was too
late. Karn turned to the loft’s small window, open only
feet from him. He could easily climb down to safety if he
wanted to. Instead, he jumped into the fire.
Karn landed on the hay, rolling to his feet and moving
quickly away from the flames. His heart pounded so loudly
it drowned out the sounds of the terrified horses as they
fought to free themselves. With all the strength he could
muster, Karn shoved the double doors of the stable open,
P a g e | 57
which released a thick pillar of black smoke from within
the building. With a breath of fresh air in his lungs, he
scrambled across the stable, to the horses closest to the
fire and cut them free with his dagger.
As Karn freed the fifth horse, he looked back at the
others that would not make it. A deep sadness squeezed his
heart. He was scared he might be held responsible. The
already repulsive taste of burned hay in his mouth turned
sour. He wished he could do more.
He paused to scan the stables before leaving, and in
that instant, a support beam collapsed and the stable’s
roof gave way. Terror held his feet in place. A beam twice
the size of his entire body struck his arm, a glancing blow
but one that broke the bone easily.
Through bleary eyes, Karn watched a crowd of guards
enter the stables. Most carried buckets of water, while one
soldier, a man Karn knew well, scooped him from the singed
hay and carried him to safety.
Although he begged to be put down, the soldier did not
listen and instead rushed him through town. Soon, two more
soldiers joined him, then three more. Karn looked around at
the men’s faces through the tears in his eyes. As large as
Weiden’s Rise’s army was, he knew them all; these men were
P a g e | 58
the Third Cavalry and the horses he’d saved belonged to
them.
In little time, the soldiers arrived at the healer’s
home. Karn grimaced and grunted, his teeth grit; the
throbbing pain of his broken arm had steadily intensified.
When the door to the healer’s home finally opened, a
skinny, red-haired girl invited them in, and to his
surprise, his pain suddenly ebbed.
She was magnetic. The most beautiful girl he had ever
seen. Only a few summers younger than he, she brimmed with
life from head to toe.
When the healer entered the room, Karn’s eyes did not
leave the blushing girl. The old man explained that
resetting the broken bone would be painful, but Karn did
not answer. All his focus was on her, and when she reached
out to take his hand she finally introduced herself. Her
name was Opal.
***
The memory only made his chest tighten worse with
great agony at the sight of his home: a place of beauty now
razed by a warlord Opal hadn’t been able to name. Dozens
and dozens of buildings had been burned and demolished.
Only chunks of blackened, broken wood sat where once
beloved homes of peaceful families stood proudly. Grass,
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formerly crisp and green, had been turned grayish-black. My
home is rubble and ash.
Absorbed in examining the still remains of the town,
Karn was startled by a distant crowing. The cries of a
myriad of blackbirds suddenly filled the air as they flew
in and out of the center of town, where a statue of the
first monarch of Weiden’s Rise had once stood. The statue
had been destroyed, like everything else, and a freshly
constructed gallows sat in its place. In one noose hung the
rotting corpse of a man, a general in Weiden’s Rise’s army.
The birds swarmed the gallows, picking at the dead
man’s flesh. The sight sickened and enraged Karn. He picked
up and threw a stone, scattering the birds over the dusty
horizon. As they disappeared, voices in the distance could
be heard.
While seeking a place to hide on the outside of the
city wall, Karn admonished himself. I alerted guards, a
garrison no doubt left behind to catch stragglers and
thieves.
He peeked through a moss-covered crack in the stone
wall and took his first close look at Weiden’s Rise Castle.
It had fared better than he had thought. Two of the
castle’s main towers had been truncated nearly halfway up,
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and the gate showed obvious signs of battering ram attack.
Otherwise, the place stood tall and strong.
The castle is in too good of condition to simply
abandon. Wait, the general left to rot in the hangman’s
noose… who was he? The realization that that man could be
his father kicked him in the gut. Weiden’s Rise had many
generals. He could be any one of them… still. I need to
know.
Karn tried to stay quiet as he crept through the
debris. In the distance, he heard men speaking—orders being
given and passed down the ranks. Any doubt he may have had
as to whether these men were enemy soldiers had answered
itself. No soldier of Weiden’s Rise would leave one of
their generals hanging for the birds to devour, and no
simple bandit would care if others were around.
When Karn reached the gallows, he inhaled and held a
deep breath of air, rubbed his eyes, and looked up at the
dead man.
The birds and other scavengers had picked most of the
flesh from the face of the corpse. Exposed muscles were all
that was left. Long, straggly hair hung limp from the head;
its style, length, and color fitted the image Karn had of
his father before the battle and reinforced his fears. He
climbed the gallows to take a closer look.
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“You there!” a man screamed as Karn planted his foot
on the third stair.
“Halt, rogue!” another man shouted.
Karn counted five men, all dressed in full armor, long
metal spears gripped in their hands. Sword drawn, he
climbed to the top stair of the gallows. Better to defend
from here, he thought. A tremor of energy built in his
shoulders and shot down both his arms. He flexed until he
felt his leathers constrict. Awash with newfound
confidence, Karn was positive that these five men could not
best him.
I will kill them all.
“The looter thinks high ground will save him,
Robertus,” one of the men said.
“I’ll show this boy just how wrong he is.”
The first man hurried up the stairs, rushing into
combat. Your last mistake, bastard.
Karn swung his sword with precision, slicing the
attacker’s throat so deeply that his head nearly separated
from his neck. He shoved the body over the side of the open
stairs and eyed his next assailant, who, after seeing the
fate dealt his comrade, slowed his onrush up the stairs and
raised his spear in a more careful, defensive guard.
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Karn waited for the man to strike out at him, and
then, with lightning-fast speed, wrapped his arm over it.
“Got you,” Karn said as he pinned the spear’s shaft
tight to his side and slid himself forward along its
length.
Karn drove his sword into the man’s chest and
continued to push until his hand was soaked with gore. Kill
them all. Jumping, he left his strategically safer location
atop the platform, and landed on the debris-cluttered
ground.
“This was my home!”
He snatched up a fallen man’s shield, braced it, and
slammed hard into the next advancing soldier. Karn
redirected the faltering man back into the next approaching
one; a clash of metal against metal rang out, piercing the
sky as the two fell hard to the ground.
Karn released a bloodcurdling cry as he sliced the arm
off one of the men. A fine mist of blood coated the
soldier’s face, as he gawked in fear.
Lost in a wild rage, Karn swung his sword down into
the one-armed man’s leg, hacking a giant chunk of flesh off
before striking again and again. Blood sprayed from both
the wounds and splattered from the edge of Karn’s sword.
The injured soldier howled, his cries filled with hell-born
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terror. After another dozen swings of his sword, the
injured man’s screams finally ceased; Karn had finished
him.
Horrified by such an act of brutality, the two
soldiers who remained turned to flee. Karn dropped his
sword and shield and grabbed an abandoned spear. His body
moved from muscle memory, as if he traced ghostly steps of
long past training. Drawing his arm back, he tensed his
muscles and then snapped forward—leg, hip, and arm.
The spear sailed through the sky and then descended
upon the two soldiers. In a sharp scrape of metal, the
spear struck the man on the left and passed entirely
through his body, into the earth beneath. Karn cheered. He
had pinned the man instantly to the ground.
I need another spear, he thought, but by the time he
found one, it was too late; his last foe was gone.
***
Karn continued through town. He wanted to get a
glimpse inside the castle’s interior, and hoped that there
might be a hint to the identity of the enemy warlord
inside. Coming upon the remains of a damaged yet still
standing home, he hid in the shadows of one wall. Karn
listened to his surroundings. There was no sound of alarm,
no clatter of armored men mobilizing; he heard nothing.
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As he cautiously stepped around the wall, a wooden
club smashed against his shoulder, the force slamming him
hard to the grass. He tried to push himself up, but before
he could stand, there was another strike and his
surroundings swirled, jerking him swiftly down into
unconsciousness.
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Chapter 6
Caught
Muffled sounds seeped slowly into his cotton-filled
head. Karn wrestled with his eyes until they finally
opened. Physical senses returned as gradually as his
vision. First an awareness of motion, I’m sliding, he
thought.
Reminiscent of the times he had sledded down the snowcovered hills of Weiden’s Rise as a young boy, Karn felt as
if he was gliding on his back. Yet that pleasant memory
faded as he came to another realization; I’m lying on a
stone floor. When he tried to reach up to massage his
pounding head, he discovered his arms and his legs were
bound tightly.
His muscles jerked in panic. He thrashed around, but
his efforts were useless against the thick ropes.
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Realizing it was futile, he stopped struggling and
looked around. Drug by his feet, he gazed down his body and
finally took a good long look at the two large men who had
him. With beards that hung straggly and matted past their
waists and a padding of animal pelts and thick leather
covering their bodies, it was hard to tell if the eyewatering stench of filth that emanated from them was body
odor or the stink of badly cured hides. Karn turned his
head in search of clean air, but kept one eye on the big
men.
Men as tall as trees. It made a childhood tale come to
mind.
“You’re giants,” Karn croaked.
“Frozen Mountain Giants, boy. We guard,” the large man
grumbled in a deep, cracking voice.
When the two guards reached the bottom of the steps,
they stopped at a large steel door and one giant unlocked
the door with a key around his neck.
The dungeon was far larger than Karn had imagined it
would be: twenty seven-by-seven cells, as best as he could
tell. Five torches lit the damp and musky room.
Surprisingly, there was very little dirt to be seen with
the exception of loose gravel coating the floor. A single
cot, no more than a rough frame of old rusting metal,
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resided in each of the cells. Is this to be my new home? he
wondered until he saw what else was down there.
Inside the first tiny cell was a creature Karn had
never laid eyes on before. It had the head of a wolf with a
large bipedal body covered with thick, brown, spiky fur.
The being wore chest armor made of fragments of old, dented
plate armor pieced together on a leather vest. Covering its
waist and legs was a pair of torn leather pants coated with
dry, flaking dirt. The moment the guards passed it, the
creature jumped to its feet and began to shake the bars of
its cell wildly, foam spraying from its mouth as it
snarled.
“Shut up! Stupid, stupid, dog man!” the first guard
yelled. The dog man, or whatever it was, paid the guard no
heed and continued to bark and growl.
When the guards reached the fifth cell in, they cut
the ropes binding Karn’s hands and legs. Karn had only a
scant moment to stand and rub his wrists before the closest
giant shoved him into the cell and slammed the bars shut.
“When I get out of this cage, I’m going to kill you
all!” Karn shouted.
The guards locked the cell and, laughing, stomped
loudly out of the dungeon.
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It took a moment for Karn to calm himself and release
the bars in front of him. When he finally did, he sat down
on the rusty cot and grunted loudly in aggravation.
His wrists bled, his back was sore, but worst of all
his head ached, but not from pain—from bewilderment and
frustration. Captured. So easily. If I’m such a great
soldier, why do I feel so useless, powerless?
But his anger was quickly overpowered by sadness. With
his fingers pressed firmly to his brow, he thought. What’s
wrong with me? I wanted to protect her and now… now, I wish
Opal was here. She would know what to do.
At that moment, the doors to the prison creaked open.
The wolf creature growled, a sound Karn found eerily human
and inhuman at the same time. The sound of metal on metal
rang sharply through the room as the beast rattled his cage
door. The commotion unnerved Karn so much that he jumped to
his feet. Pressed to his bars, he watched the guards as
they closed the steel door behind a young woman.
The girl, clearly a slave, wore a black silk wrap that
spun around her body in a way that kept her covered, yet in
the right light showed off every inch of her as if she was
naked. As the woman drew closer, he could see just how
attractive she was. Her hair, he marveled, it’s as blue as
the ocean, her eyes silver as coins. She must be an elf.
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The woman approached the cell that held the beast, her
pace and movements filled with confidence. Without
hesitation, the woman kneeled and slid one of the plates
she carried under the wolf creature’s barred cell door.
Once the food was in his cell, she stood back up and
stepped closer to the bars. Karn watched in awe as the
beast tore at the raw meat with its razor-sharp teeth.
Blood splattered onto the ground around the cage and even
sprayed across the woman, but she did not flinch or move
away. With a quick, smooth movement, she reached into the
cell and petted the fearsome creature on its nose.
“Are you crazy?”
His words went unanswered for a moment.
“You could’ve lost an arm doing that,” Karn stated.
“I was there,” the elf whispered.
“What?”
“I was there when Mustaffa subdued this wonderful
creature. He put up a valiant fight. How did you fare?” she
asked as she walked across the dungeon to Karn.
“Mustaffa,” Karn repeated aloud. “I know your name
now.”
The slave girl handed Karn his food and paused.
“You’re new,” she said as her eyes moved up and down
his body.
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“I put up a bold fight too.”
“Humans… Owners of such bad timing, one and all.” She
shook her head.
Karn pressed his face against the metal bars and
whispered, “Bad timing?”
“Yours? The worst, I’m afraid. See, Mustaffa’s army
began their march toward Joa’Ta last night. But the man
himself stayed behind with his garrison for one reason; he
plans to personally execute his last prisoner.”
“You mean that monster?”
“He’s no monster,” she sharply corrected him. “He’s a
warrior like you, and now you two heroes will share the
same fate. Pity… Mustaffa hangs all the good men.”
With the words hardly out of her mouth, the huge metal
doors of the dungeon flew open and startled them all.
“Enough talk, elf! Feed them. Go back to group after,”
one of the giant men ordered.
“Enjoy your meal,” muttered the girl.
She may have only meant to hand him his meal for the
night, but the slave had also delivered news that left a
sour taste in his mouth.
Stunned, Karn watched the exotic beauty walk away with
a saunter that he thought may be intended to mock him in
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some way. Opal was right, he thought. I never should’ve
come here alone. I need help.
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Chapter 7
Trapped
Opal awoke late that morning with a sense of dread
gnawing at her heart. Just as she was trained to, she used
a small locator spell targeted on Karn. It hummed in her
ear at a steady pace, and would grow faster as she drew
near him. When the hum faded, she knew he was gone and the
deep sensation of anxiety that she woke with became
obvious. He’s left for Weiden’s Rise without me.
After dressing hastily, Opal ran out the door of her
father’s cabin without even shutting it. Deep down, she
knew if she did not find Karn quickly, if he was killed,
there would be no reason to return home. As much as his
life is in my hands, mine is now solely in his.
***
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Opal traversed the uneven terrain of the thick forest
between her cabin and the valley below Weiden’s Rise faster
than she had ever before. As she emerged from the forest’s
shadows, she saw three wild horses in the distance. The
smallest was dirty white with dark brown spots. The spotted
horse lumbered around, grazing, still wearing a saddle.
Opal assumed he was abandoned during the battle.
With a quick look around, Opal sat her packs down and
recalled a simple spell she had learned long ago, during
her first month at the High Council. The spell was designed
so that humans could communicate with animals, and Opal had
mastered it with ease. Eyes closed, she concentrated on the
horse. The wind picked up, whipping the ends of her red
hair into her face.
Across the field, a small blue halo of mist, like a
miniature rain cloud, formed over the horse’s head. The
horse whinnied and perked up. After shaking its head, it
spun around in two circles and then looked directly at her.
With a casual wave, Opal summoned the horse to her side.
“I need a ride into town,” Opal said as she gazed into
the horse’s caring eyes.
When the horse lowered its head in acceptance, she
patted it gently, her hand shaking with her nerves. Calm
yourself. Let go of your worries, she told herself.
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Opal mounted with ease. “Would you please keep watch
for danger too?” She whispered to the horse, who nodded in
response.
The spotted horse trotted across the field. It was not
long until Opal reached her destination: the ruins of
Weiden’s Rise. The town appeared quiet, no sign of man or
beast except a few birds that flew about.
“If I use anything other than the weakest of magics,
the archmages will sense it,” she whispered to the horse
when she realized the tight spot she had put herself in.
Her ears suddenly filled with a sharp whistling sound.
Opal turned, but it was too late. A stinging sensation bit
deep beneath her ribs. She pawed at her side frantically in
search of what had struck her until her hands found a tiny,
feathered dart. Her fingers began to go numb as they
plucked the thing from her skin. Heal the wound; cast out
whatever poison covers the dart’s steely point before… But
it was too late. Opal’s eyes fluttered back into her head,
and her body dropped to the ground.
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Chapter 8
Held
Inside the large throne room of Weiden’s Rise Castle
sat the warlord known as Mustaffa. He had dispatched his
army ahead of him, secretly hoping to draw one specific man
back into a trap: Morwik, brother of Garik, the former
Ruler of Weiden’s Rise. Mustaffa had ordered his men to
search the dead and throw each corpse into a pyre at the
far end of town. When the last body was piled upon the heap
and the brother of the monarch had not been found,
Mustaffa’s need for retribution became an obsession. He had
killed each member of the royal family himself—queen,
prince, princess, and king—yet it was the brother, Morwik,
who had escaped and took Mustaffa’s left eye with him.
The warlord stroked the stubble of his unshaven face
as a group of guards entered the room. Standing between him
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and the guards was a collection of beautiful slave girls,
all adorned in colorful silk wraps. Mustaffa prided himself
on his ability to keep the most exotic women of each land
he subjugated. His hobby began with the first kingdom he
had conquered many, many summers ago. It was an ancient
desert empire, suffering from both a devastating plague and
the inevitable civil unrest that followed. When he
vanquished that kingdom, he took sovereignty over its lands
and much more; he also took the deceased leader’s youngest
daughter.
Now the oldest woman in his harem, the dark-skinned
beauty was still as lovely as the day he stole her from her
dying family. Mustaffa looked across the room at her; her
body was slender and smooth, toned and simply flawless. His
eyes slid down her long form to her right hand, where it
rested on her hip. She was missing her smallest finger, his
standard mark of punishment and a clear identifier to all
that she was his property.
Mustaffa smiled; it was through her that he had
learned how to tame all of his future slaves.
As the guards walked through the sea of languid,
perfumed women, they held their heads high and kept eye
contact only with their lord. When they reached Mustaffa,
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they bowed and held silent until the captain delivered a
note.
“Well…” Mustaffa laughed. “Dark elves, always
capitalizing.”
“Yes, sir, we’ll tell him to dispose of the prisoner,”
the guard replied.
“No. On the contrary, Captain. Bring him and his
captive to me.”
The captain bowed sharply and then signaled to a pair
of guards who stood at attention in the doorway. They bowed
back and swiftly exited the room. It was only a brief
moment before the guards returned, watchfully ushering in
another man, a dark elf.
The dark elf wore black leather armor and a black
robe. Combined with his deep tan complexion, his somber
clothing made him a shadowy form. When he approached
Mustaffa, he did so with an air of insolence, his thumbs
tucked into his sword belt. Mustaffa knew that the elf’s
face, although hidden by the cloak, wore an arrogant smile.
“Vorlick,” Mustaffa stated. “They said a dark elf
caught a woman outside of my town. They neglected to tell
me it was you.”
“Your humans lack the attention to detail they need to
protect you, my lord. That’s why you need more of my kin in
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your ranks.” The elf’s response was enough to make one of
the younger guards gasp.
“We shall see.” Mustaffa ignored the elf’s
contemptuous manner. “So, tell me, what have you brought me
today, Vorlick?”
“A mage.”
Mustaffa’s face clouded. The warlord was a tall and
muscular man—a commanding presence that his troops feared
and respected. If it were not for the lines in his face and
his receding hairline, few would have guessed he was in his
early fifties.
Vorlick stepped back as Mustaffa rose.
“Bring it to me now!” Mustaffa commanded.
Vorlick bowed and waved his hand to the guards that
stood at the entryway. Orders were exchanged, and soon two
more guards entered the room, dragging a young woman by her
armpits. Her red hair snapped like a fiery whip as she
kicked and struggled, but the woman could not free herself.
“Let go of me, you bastards!” Opal screamed.
Whispers crawled across the throne room before
Mustaffa spoke again.
“This is your mage, Vorlick?”
“Yes, sir. I watched her use her powers to enchant a
horse outside the forest,” the dark elf answered.
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“I’ve seen many mages, Vorlick. This woman, she does
not resemble their kind,” Mustaffa rumbled as he sat back
down.
“I know better than to lie to you, my lord.”
Mustaffa merely grunted. He took a long look at Opal,
who glared back at him.
“Remove her rags,” the warlord said with a lazy wave
of his arm.
One of the guards took her wrists in his hands and
raised them above his head. He was a large man, tall enough
that he lifted her to her tiptoes. She fought for her
footing, but her toes danced on the slippery marble floor.
“Hurry up,” Mustaffa ordered.
***
The guard standing to Opal’s left, an older man with a
deep scar on his chin, stepped in front of her. His breath
smelled sour, but that was not what made her wince; it was
what he held in his hand that scared her: a long, shiny
dagger.
He promptly began to slice the clothing from her body.
Opal struggled frantically until the blade scratched her
thigh. Instantly, her muscles tensed so tightly they
quivered; and while the guard sheared off the last pieces
of her clothing, he took every opportunity to fondle her.
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“You bastards,” she whispered.
When released by the large guard’s vicelike grip, Opal
dropped back to the ground, her feet flat slapping the
hard, glossy stone floor. Powerless before her enemy, fear
squeezed Opal’s breath from her lungs. She stood, nude and
motionless, held in Mustaffa’s unrelenting gaze.
Opal huffed like a frightened animal, drawing only
short and shallow breaths. I feel so weak… So strange… The
elf poisoned me. I need to heal. I need to cast a spell—
escape.
Whereas her magic once overflowed from her, she now
felt empty. All she could do was stare in disbelief at the
one man she hoped to never face in her life.
Although afraid to look at him, she was more afraid to
look away. Opal took in the details of the man, first
following the wavy, shiny patterns of the formal armor that
covered his arms down to his bare hands. Her fear receded
briefly as she noticed red splotchy marks on the warlord’s
left hand.
Burns. The sight of his wounds distracted her, but
when Mustaffa spoke again, the reality of her circumstances
crashed back down upon her, full force.
“You… you are no mage,” Mustaffa concluded after he
looked her up and down again. “The mages of Illyia wear a
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crude tattoo of interlocking circles, one on top of two.
You, peasant, bear no such mark.”
Not only had the guards taken her clothing, but now
Mustaffa had stripped her of her confidence. His words—or
is it the poison?—made her nauseous. Opal may not have
wanted to look guilty, but she had to know, so she turned
her head slowly and stole a peek at her arm. To her
surprise, the tattoo that had been a part of her body for
so long was gone. Her mouth fell open, but she shut it with
a snap. No. No matter what, do not say anything.
“Mage or not, she’s quite stunning,” Mustaffa said,
grinning lasciviously at her. “Vorlick, you were right to
bring her to me. She’ll make a fine addition to my
collection.”
“Lord, what if she uses her magic against you?” the
dark elf asked as he stepped forward.
Opal gripped the cold marble floor of Weiden’s Rise’s
throne room with her toes as the flat side of the dark
elf’s long, thin blade pressed across her throat. Slowly,
he turned the dagger’s edge over and slid it gently side to
side. He’s going to kill me and there’s nothing I can do to
stop him.
“Even if this beggar… or whore was a mage, Vorlick,”
Mustaffa boomed, “she would be powerless before me.”
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Mustaffa reached underneath his chest armor and
retrieved an amulet. Its ruby-encrusted design sparkled
even in the dimly lit room. Opal watched Mustaffa admire
it. He ran his fingers over the oval gem and down the back
side of the basket-like base.
“You see this fine ornament?” Mustaffa held it up for
Vorlick to see. “A mage fashioned this for me a long time
ago. It dispels magic in my presence. So I assure you, my
friend, with this in my possession, no user of magic can
raise a hand against me.”
“I didn’t know, lord.” Vorlick bowed.
Opal’s stomach churned, ice filling her belly. Does
the Council know of this amulet? she wondered. Was this one
of the reasons why they didn’t want to risk a direct attack
on the warlord? She looked at her arm again, relief mixing
with her fears. If Mustaffa’s amulet dispelled magic, the
tattoo which marked her as a mage was also hidden; the
amulet had just saved her life too.
“Leave me to my work!” Mustaffa commanded.
Vorlick exited the throne room, followed by several of
Mustaffa’s guards. Opal was suddenly left alone before
Mustaffa and his harem.
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In that moment, more than escape, Opal simply wished
she could cover herself. Scared out of her wits, she dared
not budge.
Opal tried to focus but she couldn’t. In all her time
as a healer in the kingdom of Weiden’s Rise, she had never
once set foot inside the throne room of the castle. To her
surprise, it was much larger than she ever would have
guessed.
“I’ve had enough of her for now. Take her away!”
Opal’s heart jumped into her throat as she watched
Mustaffa wave his hand toward a guard, the older man who
had disrobed her. Before she could venture a guess as to
what was going to happen, the old man grabbed her and drug
her from the room.
In the adjoining chamber, torchlight danced across the
water of a fifteen by twenty foot pool. Shortly after she
caught the scent of lilac in the air, the old guard shoved
her.
The shock of the cold water compounded her fear and
enraged her. When Opal breached the surface of the pool,
she was greeted with the hearty laughter of a room full of
her enemies. She wanted to kill the old guard who pushed
her in. She wanted to kill them all, especially Mustaffa—
but his amulet was still affecting her magical powers.
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Opal took her time swimming to the edge of the pool,
all the while watching the old guard as he left the room.
She pushed herself up against the edge of the pool as
several slave girls funneled into the room. They moved as
if they were free to go wherever they pleased, but it was
obvious by the number of guards around that they were not.
One girl caught Opal’s attention more than the others by
flashing a large smile. What does she have to be so happy
about?
One woman was moving directly toward her. She was very
pretty, with delicate features. The closer she came to
Opal, the more flawless she seemed. When she reached Opal,
she knelt leisurely.
“I’ve been part of our lord’s harem for longer than I
can count,” she said with a husky voice. “He treats us… He
treats us well. I’ll fetch you something to wear. Please
wait here.”
Opal tried once more to shut it all out and return to
purpose. I need to find Karn. If I was so easily caught,
then perhaps so was he.
“Wear this,” the slave said as she returned with a
long silk garment.
“This? How is this any better than nothing at all?”
Opal asked, as she pulled herself from the water.
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Just as they were finished wrapping Opal in silk, the
friendly slave girl scurried off with a look of dread on
her face.
From out of the milling women, a dignified and very
beautiful elven woman approached. “You must be the new
girl,” she said. “Until you arrived, I was the new girl.”
“I’m not new. I’m trapped,” Opal whispered as she
stared at the woman’s exotic blue hair.
“Mmm. Well, you may call me Raven, new girl.”
“You’re not listening, Raven. I have to get out—”
“During my first days here, I got in a fight with
another girl. She was… about your size.” Raven looked Opal
up and down before adding, “I killed her.”
“What?” Opal gasped. “How? Why?”
“You have to take charge of every situation you face.”
Opal's eyes grew wide.
“Try not to worry too much. You’ll be fine.” Raven
paused. “Tell me… how many summers are you?”
“Uh, twenty-one.”
“It’s a good age for breeding, right? I’m told that
those lucky enough to bear Mustaffa children are freed.”
Opal broke into tears.
“Easy, new girl,” Raven warned. “You don’t want to
draw any more attention to yourself, do you?”
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“No. You don’t understand. I came searching for—”
Before Opal could finish, Mustaffa entered the room.
He whipped his dark blue cape around and faced them. His
gaze traveled up and down Opal’s wet body. She knew that
the damp silk clung to her curves, and she saw the look of
lust in his eye. Mustaffa, our enemy. If I wished it, I
could reach out and touch him. It was a fact that both
excited and terrified her. After all the meetings,
planning, and discussions she had had with her instructors,
it was she, a student, who was close enough to the enemy to
strike him down.
Close up, his face showed much wear, with many
distinct lines. His hair had receded to the top of his
head, where only short and stubbly ones covered his crown.
A black leather patch covered his left eye socket, but a
jagged red mark peeked out from the top and bottom of it.
The wound still heals.
Unable to take her eyes off him, Opal watched Mustaffa
point directly at her. His gaze held a certain seriousness,
an icy blue stare that felt like death’s own.
“I was wrong,” he stated. “I have not had enough of
you tonight. In fact, I have decided that it’s your time,
baby bird.”
Opal took a step back and shook her head.
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“Wait, my desert sultan. I thought I was your
favorite.” Raven called out to Mustaffa, who barely glanced
at her.
“You’ve had many chances; now it’s time for my new
girl,” he said, still pointing at Opal. “I wish to see
myself in those pretty eyes while I conquer her.”
Raven slunk over to Mustaffa and pressed her thinly
clothed form against his cold, hard armor. “Humans are so
plain. I’m your exotic one.” She stood on tiptoe so she
could kiss and then slowly lick the line of his jaw.
The warlord smiled as he reached down to caress her.
“How can I say no to such an eager participant? There will
be plenty of time for the baby bird later.”
“Plenty of time.”
“Let us go.” Mustaffa wrapped his outstretched arm
around Raven. “I need you now.”
“My lord has made another wise choice.” Raven nodded
at Opal.
“You there, guard, make sure this new one delivers the
prisoners their dinner tonight. I would not want them to
starve.”
Opal stared in disbelief as Mustaffa and Raven walked
away, both chuckling. What now?
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Chapter 9
Prisoners
Later in the night, Opal descended the stairs to the
dungeon juggling two platters of food. A warm stew of
vegetables splashed against the sides of the one bowl as
she moved hastily. Nervous, Opal stared at the stew. It
made no sense why her enemy would feed his prisoners so
well. Stew, bread, and ale—this is a meal suitable for
soldiers, not prisoners. More confusing than that was the
thick chunk of raw meat she carried along with the stew.
What could possibly be in the dungeon that would eat this?
As she stepped down from the last stair, her arm
tingled. When she glanced over, she stopped walking. This
cannot be. Her eyes widened as the High Council of Mage’s
tattoo began to magically redraw itself onto her upper arm.
Shocked, she stared at the interlocking circle symbol until
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it finished rematerializing. Opal knew what it meant: she
was out of the range of Mustaffa’s magic-sapping amulet. It
meant she could use her magic again.
A metallic rattle got her attention in time for her to
watch one of the two giant men who guarded the dungeon’s
door insert his key. Opal stepped into the room cautiously.
What she saw first, she never would have imagined.
The captive wolf creature sat up in his cell and
inhaled deeply, tilting his head back to the ceiling. Opal
smiled; the snorting emitted by the beast was a loud and
almost comical sound. She gazed upon him like any other
caged animal she might study. As she stared, the wolf
creature dropped his head. The hair on his body stood on
end, like thousands of grey spikes. Slowly, the creature
lowered itself closer to the ground. His movement…
unmistakably intelligent, Opal thought. Locked in a stare
with the beast’s shiny black eyes, Opal did not expect it
to suddenly lunge forward, and she held stubbornly still as
it repeatedly clapped its clawed-hand on the stone floor.
“You better feed him,” a voice said.
“Oh! Yes,” Opal answered.
As she slid the plate of raw meat she carried under
the bars to the wolf beast, the voice, now unmistakably
familiar, called out again. “Opal?”
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Opal whipped to the side, and there was Karn. She lost
her grip on the bowl of food in her hand, its contents
spilling to the floor.
“Karn!”
The shock of seeing him numbed her body, and froze her
feet in place. Before she could stir, the dungeon doors
were thrown open. The two giants who guarded the dungeon
paced uneasily. One giant wore a look of obvious distaste
while the second smirked.
“Looks like you scared another slave girl with that
ugly mug of yours!” the smiling giant laughed.
“Quiet!” the other giant bellowed. “You, play thing.
You leave now.”
Opal did as she was told and scurried out of the room,
not looking back, even when she heard the wolf beast begin
to howl.
“Enjoy your dinners,” the one giant laughed.
At the top of the stairs, Opal paused. Although she
wanted nothing more than to rush back down to the prison
and rescue Karn, she couldn’t. Her mage’s mark was once
again gone, her powers suppressed by Mustaffa’s amulet.
I’ll have to wait. But when I feel my powers return… then
we’ll escape this place together, Karn.
***
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Opal spent the remainder of the night hiding amongst
Mustaffa’s harem. She kept quiet, stayed still, and tried
her hardest to blend in, yet her mind blazed with fear.
Never would she have imagined being trapped within the
stone walls of her former home—and caught by the man she
sought to kill no less.
Opal stared out a window as the night sky slowly
turned a shade of reddish-orange. She kept watch for the
slave girl who took her place in Mustaffa’s bedchamber. Why
would a stranger protect me? Her curiosity did not allow
her mind to stop.
When she finally spotted Raven reentering the room,
Opal saw that the woman had a clear and sultry swing to her
hips. The beautiful elf even ran her hands through her
hair, tossing it while winking at one of Mustaffa’s younger
guards. What is she doing?
Opal broke into a cold sweat. How can Raven look so
well? Opal imagined the elf would look hurt, or at least
miserable after being forced to spend the night with the
warlord. Instead, a playful smirk painted the woman’s face
as she cut a crooked path through the harem.
“New girl,” Raven called out as she approached the
pillar Opal hid behind.
Opal kept quiet.
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“Did you feed the prisoners?” Raven called out again.
“I tried,” Opal whispered, while she flapped her hands
in a manner meant to get Raven to lower her voice.
“Did you find what you were seeking?”
“What?” Opal was shaken by the elf’s casually
delivered question. “What do you know?”
“In less than one day, two people were captured
sneaking into this dead place. I figured there must be a
connection between the soldier boy and the lady mage,”
Raven said as she pointed.
Opal’s heart dropped. “Don’t use that word here!”
“You have nothing to be afraid of, mage. Our enemies
will not learn your secret from me.”
“I-I don’t understand why you’re doing any of this.”
Opal spoke quickly, terrified Mustaffa would enter the room
at any moment.
“I desire only to help you.”
“Why?”
“We all have reasons for what we do,” Raven said
sharply. “Just know this, those prisoners only get one
final meal before they are executed this afternoon. One
final meal.”
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Chapter 10
Waiting
Karn sat on his metal bed and stared out past the bars
of his cell. He focused on the jagged cracks in the stone
wall across the corridor. It had become so still and quiet
in the prison that even the air felt stale. Karn worked his
situation over and over, but there was no plausible way to
escape. Frustration had created a ball of pent up energy
inside him that he needed to expel. As his nerves and anger
grew to a head, he felt his heart race. Unable to restrain
his feelings any longer, he yelled at the top of his lungs
until his voice gave out. To Karn’s surprise, the wolf
creature, which had stayed so silent he had forgotten he
was there, replied with his own deep howl. Startled at
first, Karn found comfort in the creature’s answering wail.
As the wolf-man continued keening, Karn screamed again,
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this time matching the beast. Their combined voices rang
out, a sickening duet of anger and despair rising into the
air.
“Did you see her?” Karn asked. “Did you see that redhaired woman? That was Opal. She’s come to free me.”
She’s here. Opal’s here. So why didn’t she use her
magic to free me? He paced his cell, only able to take a
few steps before being forced to turn around. No… She’s not
here to rescue me; she’s just as trapped as I am. The
thought heated Karn’s blood further. I have to help her. I
have to protect her, but as long as I’m stuck in this cell,
there’s nothing I can do.
“Nothing!” he shouted.
Karn’s nerves had given birth to a foul monster inside
his mind. An unrelenting beast that he wrestled with over
and over. He could not rid his thoughts of the decayed
corpse swinging in the gallows at the center of town, and
now he saw two other bodies there—his and Opal’s.
Suddenly tired, Karn lay back down on his cot. His
stomach growled. So hungry…
“If she comes back, I hope she brings more food…” Karn
mused aloud. “I wonder when—”
“Soon, boy.”
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“What? Who said that?” Karn sat up. He must have
somehow missed a third prisoner locked away in one of the
cages or perhaps one was brought in during the middle of
the night as he slept—it was the only reasonable answer.
At that moment, the steel door to the dungeon came
crashing down and slid across the room until it stopped
directly in front of him. The sharp echo of metal scraping
against stone prompted Karn to jump to his cell bars. Thick
white vapors rose from a hole in the steel door and floated
up to the ceiling before dissipating.
“Who’s there?”
One of the giants stumbled wearily into the room. His
knees buckled before he fell backward, and landed heavily
upon the door.
The noise rattled Karn’s empty stomach, and soon after
the stench of burnt flesh filled his nose.
“Gah,” Karn coughed and covered his mouth.
He watched the giant’s body convulse, and when it
stopped, he could see that the large man’s chest bore a
cavernous hole that matched the one made in the door.
“Disgusting.”
Karn stared at the husk that had been the giant man’s
body; he was unable to tear his eyes away. He grimaced at
both the sight of the oozing wound and the smell that
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accompanied it. The wolf-creature began to stir. He’s
obviously aroused by the smell of fresh gore.
A loud slapping pierced the air and the body of a girl
dressed in harem silks flew into the room and crashed into
the wall not far from where Karn’s cell was. Pressed
against the wall, the girl remained motionless a moment
before she slowly lifted her head, and through her curtain
of red hair, Karn saw her snarl.
“Opal!”
He reached toward her, stretching his arm as far as he
could to touch his lover. Useless. I can’t reach her.
There’s nothing I can do.
Karn watched as the second guard lumbered into the
room. The giant’s face burned red with rage. The large man
rumbled forward, his arms and his fingers hooked downward.
“Opal use your magic! Fight back!”
She’s not moving. Karn slammed his palms into the cage
door.
“Free me so I can fight!” he said. “Opal, get me out
of here now so I can fight!”
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Chapter 11
Effects
Opal pushed herself away from the wall and dropped
into a fighting position. She hoped that while her powers
recharged, her stance might intimidate the guard; it
clearly did not. The giant continued to approach her, a
grin slowly forming on his bearded face.
“Stay away from her, you fat bastard!” Karn yelled
from his cell. “Stay away!”
Opal watched the giant turn his large head toward Karn
and chuckle. Then, as he continued forward, he turned and
looked directly at the wolf man.
Opal saw exactly what the giant had; the wolf creature
shook his cell door, and it rattled louder and louder by
the moment. Something sounds loose.
CLANK!
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The vibrations stopped and the wolf creature’s cage
door broke open. He was free.
Almost too fast for Opal to comprehend, the beast
lunged across the dungeon floor and sunk his claws and
teeth into the stunned giant. Blood poured from the guard’s
throat like a frothy, crimson waterfall. Opal smiled, but
only briefly; she didn’t know whether the beast would
attack her next.
She crept cautiously toward Karn’s cell, not wanting
to disturb the wolf creature’s meal or draw attention to
herself as a possible next course.
“You never should have come here alone,” Opal
whispered as she reached Karn.
They embraced through the bars, he replied. “You never
should have come alone.”
Opal smiled and pressed her body hard up against the
bars. “I’m here to free you, Karn.”
“You aren’t hurt?”
“Do I look hurt?”
Karn sighed in relief.
“That was you? You burned that hole in the giant?”
Karn pointed.
Opal turned; it was her first long look at the carnage
she was responsible for. She told herself she should be
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disgusted by the blood and viscera, but she couldn’t be.
Deep inside, Opal felt a great deal of pride about the
power she commanded this day.
“I summoned a strong spell, one I’ve never used
before. I fear I may be too weak to channel again. As is, I
feel like I barely have enough energy in me to transport
the two of us home.”
A deep grumble came from the middle of the room, “Flee
now or die, mage.”
The wolf creature slowly faced them and took a step
forward. Opal and Karn could see the giant’s neck now. It
was torn to shreds; little more than strings of muscle
remained connecting the big man’s head and shoulders.
“I am Zian,” the wolf man said as blood dripped from
his frothing mouth, which he wiped at with his already
soaked forearm.
Opal gawked at the beast, eyes wide with amazement.
“I recognize that voice,” Karn said.
“Do you, human?”
Karn reached through the bars and embraced Opal. As if
his arms alone can protect me. When his grip tightened,
Opal felt her heart race against his bulging forearm.
“I will not harm you,” the beast said. “Why would I
harm the one who freed me, mage?”
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“You’re…” Karn paused. “What are you?”
“My people are called jackalwere, and yes, human,
today I am your ally,” Zian growled.
Opal anxiously whispered over her shoulder to Karn,
“There’s no more time to waste. Mustaffa could be coming,
and if he’s here, my magic will fade.”
“Then quick, use your powers to open the cell door,”
Karn suggested.
Opal brushed her hand against the bars of Karn’s cell,
leaving an orange glow on the metal where she touched it.
“Give it a push.”
Karn took a step back to examine the bars. After
staring at them a moment, he took two more full steps back
and then shoved at the bars with all his strength. The bars
shattered upon impact and rained down on the ground like a
bag of spilled coins.
“Mage…”
Opal turned back to the wolf creature. “What do you
want from me?”
“Just know this, mage. I will rip Mustaffa’s heart
clean from his body,” he clenched his fist as he stated.
“Will you?”
“But first—” Zian’s ears perked up, and he turned his
head to the door, his nose twitching.
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Without warning, he bolted out of the room and up the
stairs. Only seconds later, the distant screams of
terrified soldiers echoed from above. It’s time to move.
“We have to leave now.” Opal began to cast her spell.
Eyes closed, she concentrated on the location of her
cabin. When she raised her arms above her head, the sparkle
of bright and colorful light shone in her eyes. A gust of
wind blew down the stairs and into the room, extinguishing
all the torches at once. As the room darkened, an eerie,
dark-purple light emanated from two swirling orbs of energy
that had formed in Opal’s palms. When the energy in Opal’s
hands began to grow in size, she lowered her arms.
“What are these things?”
Opal looked at Karn. He watched as the orbs of light
collided with one another and then opened into a large,
crackling vortex of magical energy.
“Is that a portal? Why does it look so different than
the others?” Karn shouted over the noise of her magic and
the wind.
Opal agreed; it did look different. The portal had
grown as large as the room. It’s become a whirlpool of
violet light… one that drains into a black abyss. He’s
right to be afraid. I’ve never seen a portal look like
this. What have I done wrong?
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Opal wrapped her slender fingers around Karn’s wrist
and gave it a sturdy tug as she stared into the rumbling
mouth of the portal. She told herself it was harmless, but
there was no discounting that this eerie vortex matched the
hellish visions of her worst nightmares, the ones where her
magic failed her.
Opal glanced at Karn. She was beginning to feel weak.
Her body shuddered, and sweat rolled down her brow directly
into her fluttering eyes.
Her legs suddenly buckled, and she fell toward the
swirling energy. As Karn stepped forward to catch her, the
portal expanded and the two stepped in together. A flash of
dull purple light enveloped their bodies and they were
instantly transported into the forest not far from her
father’s cabin.
“Amazing,” Karn exhaled. “I have to be honest, I was a
little worried.”
“I told you…” Opal drew her shaking hands to her head.
“My magic will never hurt you.”
“Opal, are you well?” Karn asked.
“I just need rest,” she answered, not fully certain if
that would help or not.
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Chapter 12
Testing
While Opal rested, Karn wandered the forest. Once
more, an invisible force pulled at him. There was no
denying it. He felt like he was being torn in two.
After searching through the woods outside the cabin,
Karn had found the axe he had woken next to the other day.
He stared at the blade, held it up, and twisted it around.
Images from the past flashed in his head, hundreds of acts
of violence. All brutally enacted by him.
“Karn?” Opal’s voice came from behind him.
Karn looked to his lover. She stood with her arms
wrapped around herself.
“You should be resting,” he said, and then tossed the
axe back into the grass.
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“I’m better now.” She slowly walked to him. “I figured
you might return to this spot.”
“I was just thinking about—”
A shrill howl erupted from the forest, interrupting
Karn. He spun toward the sound, which had come from beyond
the cabin in the direction of Weiden’s Rise. As he scanned
the shadowy trees for the source of the dreadful sound, he
held Opal behind him with one hand.
The forest had become suddenly, painfully still. It
seemed even the wind had stopped, the leaves no longer
rustling in the trees. Without warning, a flock of
blackbirds burst out of the foliage around the cabin, and
flew in strict formation toward the sun.
“Stay behind me.”
***
Opal felt Karn’s arm pulsate with strength as it held
her back. When she took a better look, she saw that the
muscles in his arm had grown taut. Veins which once hid
under the skin were now pushed to the surface and
throbbing. Opal watched Karn’s shoulders roll up and
listened to his breathing become louder and stronger with
each steady huff. The spell’s working. He’s ready.
“Do you have any weapons in the cabin?”
“Just an old hunter’s bow.”
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“I lost my sword.” The tone of Karn’s voice took a
serious dip.
Opal reached out hesitantly and tapped the back of
Karn’s sword hand.
“Use this,” she said.
A thick black mass covered Opal’s arm. As if made from
the darkest, thickest oil, it ran slowly from her hand to
his.
“Don’t be afraid, Karn.”
Once the substance covered Karn’s hand, he examined
it.
“Your magic will not hurt me,” he said as he rolled
his hand over and over, looking at both sides.
Opal smiled at his comment as she watched the oil run
rapidly across his wrist. Its speed increased, shooting out
to his fingertips. Then, with a flash of yellow light, the
black oil blasted outward from his hand and took the shape
of a long sword.
“You made me a sword.” Karn’s eyes grow wide with
amazement, an excited grin on his face. He shook his hand,
tested the weight of the new blade, and then swung it up
and over his head. “It feels perfect.”
Opal admired the sword, pleased with her efforts, but
before she could have him test it, another howl rang out.
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“Opal?”
“Go.”
Karn ran off toward the cabin at full speed; it was
difficult for Opal to keep up, and when a glimmer of armor
caught her eye, she stopped. Slumped next to a tree,
covered nearly head to toe with blood, was the wolf
creature, Zian. To his left stood Raven, the elven woman.
Behind them, in the shadows of the trees, were a least ten
more women. The beast’s freed the harem… Why would he? Opal
wondered. Unless… Did he kill Mustaffa?
The crowd of women looked as though they had taken a
trip through hell; they were splattered with blood and
their somber faces were flushed and framed with sweatmatted hair. Opal would not have been able to identify them
as slaves in Mustaffa’s harem had she not been there with
them only hours ago. She and Karn approached the group
slowly. As Opal got closer, she could see that at least
half the women bore fresh injuries. One pale girl gasped
for air as she clutched a terrible gash in her shoulder
that looked to Opal to be a mortal wound.
“How did you find us?” Karn’s voice rose as he pointed
with his sword. “What do you want?”
For Opal, it was hard to tell if Raven’s look of
impatient frustration was because her outfit was torn to
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shreds—barely keeping her decent—or because she preferred
the life she had had in captivity.
“What do you expect to do with your one sword when the
lot of us have just faced a hundred or more?” Raven asked
angrily.
“Karn,” Opal called. “This woman helped me when I was
captured.”
“Why did you come here?” Karn asked again.
“Stand down, Captain.” Opal spoke sternly but in a
tone low enough for just him to hear as she approached.
Karn shot an annoyed glance at Opal; nevertheless, he
lowered his weapon and relaxed his stance.
“How did you find us?” Opal asked the group.
“How do you think, girl?” Zian snapped. “Your scent is
all over this forest.”
His piercing red eyes made her squirm; she liked his
glare even less than the archmages’.
“Why?”
“For your help.”
“With a powerful mage like you, we could crush the
warlord Mustaffa’s army,” Raven said.
“I cannot face him.” Opal shook her head. “Mustaffa is
protected from all magic by the amulet he wears. You’ve
seen it; you’ve slept with the man.”
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Raven grumbled. “I only did what I had to.”
“The time for arguing has passed.” Zian’s nose was
pointed up as he faced Karn. “Human, you were a soldier,
right? Human soldiers always have plans. What’s yours?”
“My plan to face the man or his army?” answered Karn.
“I need… we all need time to think.”
“Karn, let me help,” Opal whispered.
Karn nodded back to her and she quickly went to work.
First, Opal ordered the slaves with lesser injuries to wash
up at the pond. Then she told the others, starting with the
ones most grievously wounded, to lie down.
“I can heal you all. Just hold still.”
One girl, no older than Opal herself, stood wearily,
her arm limp at her side. A deep wound in her shoulder
showed a white glint of bone amid the red ruin. A thick
stream of blood had coursed all the way down her arm to the
tips of her fingers. Colorless, Opal knew the girl was
close to bleeding to death.
“Can you lie down?” Opal noticed the girl’s deep green
eyes were glazed and unresponsive, and when she snapped her
fingers thrice in front of the young woman’s face, it
elicited no response.
“She’s been in this state since we entered the forest.
I had to help her walk,” another slave girl said.
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Opal shifted her gaze to the woman speaking and saw
that she was slightly bent over, her hands tight against
the side of her waist.
“I was cut. I have no idea how or when,” she said
calmly, almost apologetically. “There was total chaos when
Zian entered the throne room.”
With very little thought or preparation, Opal summoned
a healing spell. Her eyes flashed while she stared at the
dangling arm; the way it hung lifelessly at the girl’s side
made Opal recall the very first time she used magic. A time
she had to heal herself.
“Don’t worry. I will not hurt you,” Opal told the
injured women.
When laying her hands on the woman with the shoulder
injury, Opal knew how close to death she was. She had felt
that sensation before… and liked it. Opal found it
intoxicating. It was a rare awareness of life that she
imagined few ever experienced—Opal imagined the feeling as
two people connected by a nearly invisible line of thread,
soul to soul.
Perhaps, she considered in that moment, that when
bearing a child, a woman might experience such a sensation
as this. I can only hope to know one day.
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A sinister smile parted her lips. Opal turned her face
away from the others long enough to clear it. She had not
felt this way only when healing someone with mortal wounds;
there were other times—though she would not admit that to
herself now. I’m no longer that person, she told herself.
“Hold her!” Opal called out, sensing her patient was
about to jerk.
One of the girls braced her friend until Opal was done
sealing the wound.
“Good. Take her inside and lay her down; she needs to
rest,” Opal said and then turned back to the bent over
girl. “Let me see your side.”
“I’m fine. It’s not deep. Zian did all the fighting.”
The girl removed her hands from the wound. “He needs your
services more than I do.”
“Fine, but keep pressure on it,” Opal said, and then
went toward the wolf-man.
“Back off, mage.” He bared his teeth at Opal.
“Aren’t you hurt? Can I heal you?”
“Human magic is for humans,” he grumbled.
“Good magic is good magic, for humans or… your kind.”
Zian growled and walked away. Opal shook her head as
she realized there was no use trying to persuade him. He
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was not the first to refuse magical aid. I’ll never
understand why people are so afraid of healing spells.
Frustrated and no longer wanting to spend her time
addressing each woman, Opal cast a blanket spell which went
to work healing the entire group. She had done this once
before, but only in training and with fewer people.
Arms up, the red glow, which normally adhered to her
hands as she cast, instead rose up from the ground beneath
each of the harem girls. The spell mended them all
instantly, as if wiping the cuts and bruises clean from
their bodies. A collective gasp came from the group. Yet it
was not the sound of their surprise which rang in Opal’s
ears; it was an aggravated growl that came from the hunched
jackalwere. He too had been healed by the spell, whether he
liked it or not.
“Sorry!” she called out. “I only meant to heal the
girls.”
He glowered at her. “I will let it go. Only this
once.”
“Opal?” Karn called from inside the cabin. “Can you
join us inside?”
“Be right there.”
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Chapter 13
Unplanned
Raven sat at Opal’s old, square dining table. She
propped her feet up onto the corner of the table and tucked
her torn garments underneath her armpits to keep covered.
When Karn made eye contact with her, she spoke. “You like
what you see?”
Karn looked at Opal as she entered the cabin and said,
“Can you heal her?” He nodded at the elf woman, whose
forearm had a deep, bleeding gash.
“Of course.”
Karn finally sat down across from Raven. He placed the
sword Opal had created for him across his lap; it was light
and he swore it was warm to the touch.
He leaned forward and rubbed his face with one hand.
What the hell do I do now?
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Through his fingers, he watched Raven smile as Opal’s
hands began to glow red. The bright light flickered into
his eyes, so he closed them.
“That’s very bright, Opal.”
“Sorry. Look away a second. You’ll be fine.”
When he opened his eyes again, Opal had placed her
hands next to Raven’s elbow.
“Tingles,” Raven said.
Opal moved her hands from Raven’s elbow to her
shoulder. In less time than it took for Karn to ask Raven
if she thought they had been followed, the elven woman’s
arm had been fully healed.
“Truly amazing…” Raven said.
“I’ll fetch you a dress.” Opal smiled as she went into
the bedroom. “You two can talk.”
“I only want to know if you were followed.”
Raven shrugged.
“Fine, then could you excuse us a moment, please?”
Karn tried his best not to allow his frustration to take
over.
“I need to bathe anyway.”
Raven shed the remains of her slave attire like a
coiled up snake, piling them where sat. She exited the
cabin with a swing of her hips. Karn knew he shouldn’t
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stare but continued to watch her until she joined Zian at
the pond.
“Karn?” Opal called to him from the adjoining room.
“What are you thinking?”
“I think we need to get to the kingdom of Joa'Ta.”
“That may be a problem. Mustaffa’s army marches there
now.”
“Perhaps you can transport us,” Karn said.
“No. I cannot transport myself someplace I’ve never
been,” Opal said as she returned to the room, her voice
laced with frustration. “Not only do I have no idea where
Joa’Ta is, but I also have no clue what its surroundings
are. It’s dangerous, Karn. I could open a portal inside a
tree, a fence, or the side of a building.”
“It’s worth the risk!” Karn pounded his fist into the
table.
“We’d die…”
A burst of laughter from outside interrupted them.
They stepped outside, and watched Raven, who had waded
waist deep into the pond, using her cupped hands to splash
Zian as he paced back and forth along the bank.
“I cannot believe this,” Karn said as he stared.
Opal pushed past Karn and approached Raven, who had
left off teasing the wolf-man to swim into the pond.
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“These should fit you,” Opal told Raven as she placed
several dresses on the grassy bank.
“You are most kind.” Raven smiled.
“Are you ladies hungry?” Opal asked the group.
Zian answered first. “I’ll find something suitable for
us all.” And with a snarl, he loped off into the forest.
***
Not long after night fall, two of Mustaffa’s former
slaves presented a meal for the group: a stew, containing
the meat of six rabbits Zian had caught, with chopped
carrots and celery Opal had grown in her garden.
Karn and Opal had discussed their options reaching
Joa’Ta to such a length that they were sick of the topic
and kept quiet throughout the meal.
Zian, Raven, and the other girls sat around the pond.
Their chatter had nearly become a song of celebration, a
praise to newfound freedom. Not hungry, Opal pushed her
dinner bowl to the side and abruptly excused herself.
“What’s wrong?” Karn followed her out the door of the
cabin, catching her as she shed her first tear.
“I’m scared.”
“Let’s walk,” Karn suggested.
Opal nodded. As they walked, her flow of tears slowed,
and she focused on a spell.
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“What are you doing?” Karn asked, as he watched her
cup her hands and move them around as if molding clay.
“Do you like fireflies? I love fireflies.”
The cracks in between Opal’s fingers glowed dully as
her hands seemed to siphon the light around them. Opal
raised her cupped hands to her mouth and whispered softly,
“Fly.”
She opened her hands in a blossoming motion, and
hundreds of tiny fireflies were released. Each radiated a
tiny yellow beam in the darkened sky, lighting the
immediate area.
“Incredible,” Karn breathed. “Is there no end to your
talents?”
“Many ends, I’m afraid,” she said, and hung her head a
moment.
Karn took her hands, and Opal welcomed it; his were
warm and fought off the chill she felt.
“Seeing Mustaffa for myself, fighting his men, it all
made me realize something,” Opal said as they both sat down
on a felled tree. “This is much bigger than you and I. How
am I supposed to fight a man who wears an amulet that
dispels magic?”
“Listen to yourself, Opal—he’s simply a man. He can be
hurt like any other.”
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“I’m glad you feel that way, but what of our future?”
Opal paused. “What will be left for our life after all this
death?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“We could leave. Run away.”
Opal’s eyes widened with hope, yet Karn grimaced in
disgust, as if her suggestion soured his stomach. She
watched as he struggled to pick words. She expected to hear
him say no, but she was not longer listening, now fixated
on a dull orange glow that flickered in the distance, just
beyond her cabin. It slowly stretched left to right, as far
as her eyes could see. This was too muted to be a forest
fire, she thought, but something about it still seemed
eerily threatening.
“What is that?” Karn pointed.
Opal realized exactly what she was looking at:
torches. Soldiers approach. So large in number they do not
care if they are spotted.
“No. No, no, no, no!” Opal screamed.
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Chapter 14
Penetrate
Zian’s howl was the final proof that something was
very wrong. Karn reacted instantly, running toward the
cabin as fast as he could. As he drew closer, he watched
the wolf-man creep out of the building on all fours, his
head bobbing slightly as he swung it from side to side,
inhaling through his nose. His pace slowed as he watched
the jackalwere press his ear to the ground.
“How many?” Karn asked Zian with a cold stare at the
tree line.
“Thirty or more heavily armored men marching slowly,
with about twenty lightly armored men supporting them,”
Zian answered as he lifted his head slowly from the soft
ground.
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“Karn, your sword!” Raven yelled from the door of the
cabin.
“We’re too greatly outnumbered,” Karn said to Zian.
“Humans, you all speak when you should be readying
yourself for a fight,” the beast said as he dug his feet
into the ground.
Karn looked through the open door to Opal’s cabin.
Mustaffa’s harem girls had fled inside except for Raven,
who ran around collecting things. Or is she stealing? Karn
wondered. Whose side is she really on?
Twenty of Mustaffa’s foot soldiers emerged from the
shadow-soaked woods. They marched in a loose line while
drumming their swords against their shields. The thunderous
sound of metal pounding on metal was unsettling, but Karn
and Zian held their ground.
When the drumming stopped, an eerie silence took over.
Suddenly, several dozen flaming arrows whistled over the
heads of the foot soldiers, lighting up the night sky,
their target painfully obvious. Many of the arrows struck
trees, but it was the ones which hit their mark that
gripped the group’s attention. Fire spread quickly across
the cabin’s exterior burning a bright red-orange.
Karn saw one arrow sail through a window, a flash of
light from within the cabin followed, and a thick gray
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smoke began to exit. Soon everyone hidden inside will be
forced to evacuate.
“The girls,” Zian growled.
“I know. We need to draw the enemy’s attention away
from the cabin. Follow me!” Karn yelled.
Karn’s muscles tightened and throbbed. Suddenly, he
shot off, a streak of motion away from the cabin.
***
Their diversion succeeded in pulling the attention of
Mustaffa’s foot soldiers away from the cabin long enough
for Raven and the other girls to slip out. As Raven darted
from the cabin, she skewered one of the enemy soldiers
through the neck with an kitchen knife. Blood poured onto
her hands, and she spat on the soldier.
“I swear to kill a dozen more of you cowards!”
The other women scattered into the forest, screaming
as they fled the enemy. A second volley of flaming arrows
lit the night sky and then descended on the cabin and the
fleeing noncombants. One of Mustaffa’s former slaves had
not fled; panicked, she stood waving her arms and shouting
that she surrendered.
An enemy soldier unhooked a small axe from his belt,
balanced the weapon in his hand, and then threw it at the
surrendering girl. The axe struck her, cracking her
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breastbone in two. As she fell, dying, her screams of fear
and pain echoed in the dark forest.
Opal sprinted the last feet toward the smoldering
cabin but Raven grabbed her as she passed by. “There’s only
death in that direction! We have to flee this way!” Raven
shouted as Opal struggled against her grip.
Opal watched the smoke rise from the cabin climbing as
high as some of the tallest treetops. She knew she needed
water to combat the blaze. Summoning large amounts of the
precious element has never been one of my strengths, she
thought. If only Elizabeth were… Wait. No, I don’t need to
summon water. I have plenty right here.
Opal concentrated on the pond. She focused on its
entirety and then raised her arms slowly. As she did, the
water bubbled, mimicking the motion of her arms. Soon, the
entire pond floated into the air. Opal eased the water over
the roof of the cabin and dropped her arms to her sides.
The moisture poured over her home with such force that it
created a waterfall effect and knocked down some of the
enemy warriors who had just emerged from the forest.
While the enemy soldiers recovered from Opal’s magical
inundation, Karn exploded from the darkness, howling with a
berserk rage. Sword raised high above his head, he
thundered toward the startled soldiers, decapitating one
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and then slicing open the belly of another. A slave to his
own momentum, Karn rammed his shoulder against another
opponent, knocking the man to the ground. Zian
simultaneously dropped from the treetops, like a vulture
descending on its prey, his arms outstretched, and easily
ensnared three armored men. Once on the ground, Zian tore
out their throats one after another; they were dead before
they knew what hit them.
Opal joined the fight. She summoned the winds that
blew through the forest and used her magic to spin the
gusts around her home until the smoke and vapors were
cleared away. Then, she pointed her hands at the soldiers
who had amassed before Karn and Zian, and guided the
growing winds down upon the enemy.
Scattered and unsure which direction they should
defend, the men in this wave of Mustaffa’s legion fell
easily to Zian’s and Karn’s rapid assault. Time and again,
Zian launched himself into a line of advancing soldiers
while Karn circled to the side and flanked them.
Opal watched as Karn spotted one of the harem girls as
she ran a disoriented foot soldier through with a sword and
then shrieked with mad joy.
“Zian, a few of the girls have taken up arms!” he
yelled.
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The jackalwere snarled. “They’ll get themselves
killed!”
“Regroup!” an enemy officer yelled from the tree line
as he appeared with another ten soldiers.
As the enemy attempted to regroup, Opal watched the
three girls who had picked up weapons quickly become
surrounded.
Karn fought hard and fast to get to their aid, risking
his own safety with each step. He rapidly closed the
distance, but Mustaffa’s men had easily disarmed the
unskilled women, and grabbed them from behind.
Karn swung his sword, but he was too late. Opal’s eyes
filled with horror as he watched the three defenseless
women have their throats slit.
Without hesitating, Karn plunged his sword straight
through one of the dying girls and into the soldier who had
murdered her. Withdrawing it, he caught the girl’s body as
it fell into him.
The rounded end of a light mace slammed into his side.
The soldier’s strike spun Karn around, and he lost his
footing on the moist ground. As he fell, Opal’s ears filled
with Zian’s howl. I have to do something… I have to do
something now.
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Tiny brush fires flashed across the forest and
illuminated enemy and ally alike. Opal watched from afar as
Karn stood up, his arm wrapped around his ribs. She knew he
was injured, most likely with some severity. More of
Mustaffa’s men arrived and surrounded him. Opal winced as
Karn barely managed to raise his sword to parry a soldier’s
hand axe before another soldier’s sword sliced him. He
can’t take much more… Another strike and his left foot slid
out from under him. The jarring impact knocked his sword
free and out of reach.
“No,” she breathed.
A chill of pure horror overwhelmed Opal. Her heart
burned. She clenched her hands until blood trickled to the
ground. She screamed as a sword-wielding man closed in on
Karn. All of a sudden, black smoke, as thick as fog,
enveloped the tiny battlefield.
Raven grabbed Opal’s arm and shook it. “We’ve got to
get out of here. Now!”
Opal ignored her. She closed her eyes as her body
began to radiate a deep-golden glow. Raven’s grip on her
arm loosened when a blood-chilling scream shot up from the
battlefield.
“What’s happening? Opal? Opal! Speak to me!” Raven
screamed over the cries from the forest.
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As the fog cleared, Opal opened her eyes. In every
spot where one of Mustaffa’s soldiers had been, a young
pine sapling now stood. One of the smallest trees leaned
toward Karn, who appeared mesmerized by it.
Opal blinked and reappeared at Karn’s side, startling
him further.
“How did you do that?”
As if she had been there all along, she grabbed him
and rubbed her hands all over his body in search of injury.
When she reached the side he had been struck in during the
fight, he gasped and jerked away.
“You’re hurt.” Opal pulled his leather shirt up over
his head abruptly and further examined the damage. As she
ran her sweaty, bleeding hand over his ribs, she realized
three were broken.
Karn grabbed her hand and pulled it away from his
body, but the sight of her blood stopped him. Together they
examined the crescent-shaped marks on her palm, made by her
own nails.
“Your hand.”
“Never mind my hand.” Opal pulled her hand away. “You
have broken ribs.”
“Tell me, did your magic turn these men into… into
trees?” Karn sounded bewildered.
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“They were going to kill you,” Opal answered as she
looked around at what was left of the attackers. “I must
have channeled the energy of the forest. I really don’t
know what happened.”
“You don’t know?” Raven asked, as she walked from
sapling to sapling.
“No.”
The trees that had been soldiers were strong and
hearty saplings between five and six feet tall. All but one
tree stood high, branches to the sky. One sapling had been
broken in two. Its roots were still in the ground but it
rose up to a height of only three feet before it ended in
splintered wood. Only an arm’s length away was the
remainder of the tree, from mid trunk to the tips of its
thin branches. Sap formed a trail from the felled half to a
spot next to Opal’s smoldering cabin.
“Over here,” Raven said as she followed the droplets.
“What is it?” Opal asked.
“Zian?” Raven called out.
“Is he hurt?” Karn asked as he moved to get a look.
“What pains you?” Raven asked softly.
Opal glanced in their direction as he spoke.
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“Such dark magic… it tears at nature.” Zian huffed and
panted as he sat curled into a ball like a terrified child.
“Do you elves feel it too?”
“You know we do,” Raven answered, and then looked back
making eye contact with Opal.
“Stop,” Malek’s voice boomed from above.
The old mage floated down from the pitch-black sky. He
set himself on the ground directly in front of Karn and
Opal. That smug look… Opal felt her hands form fists.
She sensed a surge in the magical energies around her,
a web of power? I’m caught. As she looked around, she
realized it was quite the opposite. Opal was not caught in
the net; everyone else was. Malek, her teacher, had cast a
powerful temporal spell. It slowed time around him to such
an infinitesimal pace that it froze everyone in place but
himself and Opal. She had seen him do it once before.
Opal groaned and crossed her arms. “They saw you.”
“No. My appearance here will be nothing more than a
flicker of color in their eyes,” Malek replied.
Opal sighed; she hated listening to him boast.
“How long have you been here?”
“There was great alarm when the archmages sensed your
powers suddenly fade and disappear. We all assumed you were
dead.”
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“We?” Opal huffed. “So you came looking for me?”
“Indeed, shortly before the archmages felt your powers
surge back into existence. Since I was already here, I
decided to stay and—”
“Spy on me?”
“Evaluate you.” Malek paused.
“Then step aside and allow me to do my duty.”
“More soldiers approach, and our weapon is… damaged. I
see no other option but to ferry you back home,” Malek
concluded as he raised his staff then planted it firmly
into the ground.
“No. I faced Mustaffa. I can find a solution here,”
Opal said, but her words were swallowed by a crackling
sound she knew well.
You bastard.
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Chapter 15
History
The sudden change in scenery startled everyone. It was
as if their eyes closed on a forest and reopened to
mountains. Mystified, they examined their new surroundings.
Karn recognized this as the place he had been only
days ago, but could not fathom how or why they had
returned. He looked for Opal in the crowd of milling people
but could not find her. Raven approached him, the entire
time breathing deeply through her nose, her head tilted
back. When she passed Zian, Karn used his sword as a crutch
to stand, grunting the entire time.
Who is that? An opening in the crowd finally revealed
Opal. In front of her was a man Karn had never seen before.
The old man wore a robe marked with symbols not unlike the
tattoo Opal bore on her arm. Is he one of her teachers?
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The longer Karn watched her, the more irritated Opal
appeared—and the more heated his blood became.
Karn prepared to call the elderly man out, but before
he could say anything, Zian howled in distress. His bloodcurdling yell startled everyone, including the mage. As
Zian’s cry faded, he stepped to Karn’s side, nearly
shoulder-to-shoulder with him.
“This is the mountain range far north of your human
kingdom of Kel Tora,” Zian said as he continued to look
around.
“How can you tell?” Karn asked.
Zian sniffed the air. “Close to home,” he muttered.
“Raven, you all right?” Karn asked.
“Thanks to you warriors, I’m fine,” she said as she
too looked around.
“Good, please see to the condition of the other girls.
I know I saw at least three cut down during the battle.”
“And you?” Raven replied.
“I have to protect Opal,” Karn said as he approached
her and her teacher. “Opal, are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Why are we here?”
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“Well, we… I… there was no other option,” Opal replied
as she faced Karn, but not before she fired off one last
scowl at her teacher.
“I saw no portal.”
“There was none. Malek transported us.” Opal pointed
at the mage.
“Who are you? Why are we here?” Karn demanded.
“Time is too valuable to waste it clucking like
chickens,” Malek held, ignoring Karn’s challenge. “Much has
transpired and all the information must be shared with the
High Council.”
“The High Council?” Karn asked.
“Fledgling, you must follow me. The others are
waiting,” Malek ordered.
“Stop!” Karn shouted, raising his sword.
“Karn, I’ll be fine. We need their help,” Opal said,
looking into his eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
Karn nodded reluctantly and lowered his weapon as Opal
and the old mage passed through a large, stone archway and
were gone.
Zian growled.
“That’s how I feel,” Karn said with a gaze back at the
jackalwere.
“Mages…”
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“I don’t trust him.” Karn frowned.
“Your lack of trust is wise, human.” Zian nodded. He
continued to pace the large terrace of the mages’ fortress,
his ears shifting up and down, side to side, as they took
in every little sound. “Powers such as these should not be
in the hands of such humans,” he said with a snarl.
“Don’t waste your time, Zian. Humans cannot feel the
damage magic does to nature like we do,” Raven said as she
bandaged one of the slave girl’s wounds. “No human should
wield magic. None.”
Karn heard her words, but he did not process them. All
he could do was focus on a knowing deep inside him that was
twisting tighter and tighter. Opal’s in danger.
Raven placed her hand on Karn’s arm, urging him to
sheath his sword. Although they had just met the day
before, her presence had a calming effect on him. In her
softest voice, she told Karn to relax and helped him sit on
the stone floor. Once he was comfortable, she sat down
behind him to rub his shoulders.
Karn could not deny it; her sweaty hands felt good on
his sore neck, and the relief allowed him a moment to
relax. “You have a good touch,” he told her.
“I’ve been in Mustaffa’s harem since he first set foot
on our lands,” Raven explained while she rubbed the back of
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Karn’s neck. “I-I had the opportunity for plenty of
training.”
“It pleases me that you are free.” Karn hung his head
to relax his muscles.
“I intend to please you even further… with a little
bit of information about the man you wish to defeat.”
“Like what?” Karn perked up.
Raven slid herself around to face Karn. She placed her
hands on his legs and leaned in to speak. “Mustaffa has
history with these mages. That is why he desires so
fervently to destroy them,” Raven said.
Karn’s brow crinkled in confusion.
“He referred to these men as ‘evil incarnate,’” Raven
said, as she unconsciously played with her blue hair. “I
once heard him vow that he would see every mage on the
island of Illyia suffer at his hands.”
A rush of nervous energy shot through Karn’s body. He
stood, stepped away from the elf, and took a deep breath.
“Mustaffa blames the mages for his burns,” Raven said.
“Burns?” Karn turned to her.
“Yes, his left arm, shoulder, and leg were seriously
burned. Bad scars and constant pain still remain.” Raven
moved closer to Karn and spoke softly. “He obsesses day and
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night about these mages; he even has nightmares about
them.”
“He forced himself on you, didn’t he?” Karn clenched
his fist until his knuckles cracked.
Raven answered his question in an emotionless
monotone. “No. I gave myself willingly and quickly became
his favorite…”
Karn’s face turned sour. “Why?”
“I’m no soldier. As a matter of fact, I was a
craftsman. I worked with the skins my tribe’s hunters would
collect. I’m just a simple elf caught in the middle of a
foolish human war. I did what I had to do to survive.”
“You should have fought.”
“Fought?” Raven crossed her arms. “I fought! My entire
family fought, but what good could a family of peaceful
craftsmen do against an army of hired killers? I watched
helplessly as his soldiers destroyed my entire village.
They killed everyone. One by one, my family fell to that
man. My father, my mother, and my two sisters—they all died
fighting him. Then Mustaffa held his blade to my throat,
the same blade that dripped with my family’s lifeblood. As
it began to cut into my skin, I begged him to stop. I told
him I would do anything. Over and over again I told him.”
“I’m sorry.”
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Raven took a long breath. “I gave myself to him right
there for the first time. Right there, among the bodies of
my family. When he was done, I asked him to keep me. I
became the first of his Illyian harem.”
Stunned, Karn mouthed, “That sick bastard.”
“You should know this: survival is sometimes about
fighting, sometimes about surrendering, and then there are
those rare times when survival is about dying.”
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Chapter 16
Associations
Opal followed Malek down the sparsely decorated
hallways of the mage’s fortress. Being nestled in the
mountainside and with many open portholes and breezeways,
the high winds whipped in and pushed at her back.
Opal wrapped her arms around herself, but not because
of the biting chill in the air; she was struggling to
contain her anger and she could do it no longer.
“This task is mine! By bringing him back here you are
jeopardizing everything!” Opal’s face heated as she snapped
at her teacher.
“The High Council Archmages and I—”
“The High Council Archmages what?” Opal sneered.
“Must I remind you that the Rook is our last chance at
defeating the warlord?”
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Opal sneered. “I know, and I want Karn to defeat
Mustaffa as much as you do. More so now that I’ve suffered
a great deal of humiliation at his hands,” she said.
“Karn.” Malek laughed. “Please, Opal, there’s no need
to continue your charade with me. Call him by his title.”
Opal stopped, and when she did, Malek stopped too. She
waited for him to look at her and when he did, she clearly
said two words: “The Rook.”
“You will report all that has transpired to the High
Council Archmages,” Malek ordered her.
Another moment passed in silence.
“And while you are here,” he said at last, “the
archmages may desire to add to your training.”
“What?” Opal was shocked. My actions are proof enough
of my skill.
“Relax, fiery one. Remember you’re still a student
here, and all students need to work on their spells.”
“Wonderful,” Opal answered sarcastically. “What of
Kar-the Rook? He has broken ribs. He needs immediate
attention.”
“I agree the wounded bear can be more dangerous than
the healthy one,” Malek said as pointed to the meeting room
door. “They will have your answers.”
***
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Deep within the fortress, inside a room few knew
existed, five ancient men sat at a mystical floating table.
Candles burned with an eerie flickering green light, yet
shadows devoured the perimeter of the room making it
impossible to tell how large it was. Malek bowed to the
High Council Archmages then presented Opal to them as he
entered. The old men whispered as they stared at her. Opal
never liked the way their eyes felt on her. It was a deep,
hunger-filled gaze. But hungry for what? she wondered.
Although enchanted, the long rectangular table was old
and splintered. Whenever Opal sat at it, she could not help
but wonder why the High Council did not fix it, purchase,
or create a new one. The seats were no better, hard and
wobbly if not sat upon correctly. Today, the most important
seat was unattended, the seat of the High Council of Mages’
Supreme Archmage. Opal had never met him, only his council
of five. She knew their names but preferred to remember
them by nicknames she created when she joined just over
four summers ago.
All the way to the left, wearing traditional robes
like Malek, was Stinger. She called him that because a hive
of bees attacked him long ago during a training exercise
she and a few other young mages attended. She had spent
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much of her time under his watch before being assigned to
study with Malek.
Next to him was Limper. Limper was a short, round man,
and possibly the youngest member of the council, although
in his mid to late sixties. He wore traditional brown robes
too, although his always seemed cleaner than the others.
Opal called him Limper for obvious reasons. Although he
never told her the cause of his accident, other students
passed around rumors. The most common among the students
was that Limper was severely burned by a magical fire many
summer cycles ago, when he was just a student.
The High Council Supreme Archmage’s seat separated
Limper and Stinger’s brother, a man Opal called Whistler
because he constantly did so. No matter what was being
done, he whistled through it. Even now, as Opal stood
before the High Council, she listened to the man’s chipper
tune. His habit made her smile.
Next to Whistler was the man Opal called Justice.
Opal’s father used to say that justice was blind. Opal had
heard this adage so often it stuck in her head. When she
met the blind archmage of the High Council his nickname
fell right into place. Justice was the main speaker of the
group, his voice clear and strong.
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A large grey owl accompanied him at all times; it was
his familiar. The owl was beautiful, with an air of
intelligence that Opal found eerie. Whenever she entered
the room, the owl turned its attention to her. Even now, it
rested atop its wooden perch just a few feet behind his
master. Opal often wondered if it acted as Justice’s eyes.
Does it give him a view of what is happening? Even if from
an inhuman perspective?
To the far right was Dusk. Opal rarely saw Dusk and
had never seen his face. He wore a dark magician’s robe
that blended into the shadows around him. It was very
unusual to see him during the day. There were rumors
amongst her peers that he was undead. If Opal had believed
in such a dark and melancholy thing, she might have agreed.
Being the head instructor of offensive spells, Opal’s
interactions with the man had been very limited. She was
not a battle mage; she was a healer.
The High Council of Mages consisted of twenty-three
members, only two of who were women, and both were
students. Primarily trained as healers, the two young women
were not taken as seriously as the men were. This never sat
well with Opal. As a result of her jealousy, she borrowed
her instructors spell books to learn as much as she could.
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It was through one of the stolen books that Opal had
discovered the High Council’s plan to cast the Ancient
Warlord’s Soul spell. A spell that did what the archmages
could not, it created life but not from nothing. It needed
two elements: a soul and a body.
Caught in thought, Opal was snapped back to the
reality of the present by Justice’s booming voice.
“Opal, it has only been days since you began your
assignment and already there have been setbacks. I must
admit, we are all concerned that you may not be the right
person for this task.” Justice waved his arms as he spoke.
Embarrassment and anger warred inside Opal. Jumbled
together, the two made her want to scream, to erupt in a
shout so loud that everyone and everything in the room
would be blown over by the gale force of her voice.
“Setbacks? Where you see setbacks, I see progress!”
Opal replied.
“You let him be captured by the forces we wish him to
destroy,” Justice pointed as she said. “How is that
progress?”
“He left of his own accord to seek out Mustaffa. Is
that not what you wished him to do?”
“Indeed, but all he succeeded in doing was bringing
the enemy’s army down upon your precious little home.”
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Opal clenched her fists; she wished she could do more
than pound the table before her.
“Until today, not one of you knew how he would handle
battle,” Opal said. “I saw him fight. Power flows through
his body. The Rook is not only a vicious combatant, but a
fearless one.”
Malek tried to hush her, but it only made her shut him
out entirely.
“Opal, the Rook must believe the lie in order for our
plan to succeed,” Stinger said as he shook his head. “His
presence here jeopardizes that.”
“Not my fault!” Opal stomped her feet. “That was
Malek’s poor judgment. He never should have transported us
all to the fortress. Malek made the wrong decision.”
“Never mind that pettiness,” Dusk interjected. “If you
claim progress, then tell us of it, girl.”
Opal was surprised by Dusk’s interruption almost as
much as Justice was, but she prayed that the High Council
would leave her to her plan.
“Remember our singular goal is to defeat the warlord,”
Justice continued.
Opal took a moment to compose herself, then replied.
“I know and I have seen Mustaffa with my own eyes.”
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A collection of gasps and exclamations of surprise
were heard before Opal continued.
“When the Rook disappeared, I assumed he went to find
the enemy. While attempting to reconnect with him, I too
was caught. It was then that I was brought before the
warlord Mustaffa.”
“What did you do?” Stinger asked. “Did you attack
him?”
“I wanted to strike him down, of course, but I could
not access my power. Mustaffa wears a special amulet that
dispels all magic around him. I was… defenseless before
him.”
“So the amulet is real.” Dusk spoke softly as he
traded looks with Stinger. “My theory is confirmed.”
“When I got far enough away from him and his amulet, I
was able to escape with the Rook. It was later, when the
warlord’s army attacked us, that I witnessed firsthand the
destructive might the Rook wields. He and the beast from
Weiden’s Rise’s jail killed dozens of men before we were
forced to flee.”
“This is good news!” Limper cheered. “The Rook will
kill the warlord!”
“As long as Opal is more careful,” Justice
interrupted. “We cannot risk another mistake.”
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There was another silence in the room.
“You are dismissed, fledgling,” Malek said. “I need to
relay the information I gathered while evaluating you and
the Rook.”
Opal exhaled deeply. She was glad to be excused, even
though it best to stay long enough to ensure they would not
change her original plan.
“What would you like me to tell the Rook, Malek?”
“Why ask me? This is your task, Opal, remember?”
As Opal passed Malek, she stared into his old face.
Something about his dark eyes and their minute size
bothered her. More and more, Opal was finding it hard to
trust her teacher. Her instincts told her Malek would do
whatever was needed to raise his status to archmage of the
High Council.
***
Lost in thought, the walk back to the landing went
quickly, and before Opal knew it, she was there. In the
narrow tunnel that led outside, she spotted Zian. The wolf
man appeared to be waiting for her, his intense gaze
similar to that of the archmages. What is his aim? she
wondered. As she passed him, Opal thought she heard him
sniffing. Apprehensive, she kept moving and did her best to
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ignore his sensory invasion. Does he know? she thought. Can
he smell deception, like a wild dog smells fear?
“Opal,” Karn said, “I’ve been talking with Raven, and
she has some very disconcerting information about the mages
and Mustaffa.”
Opal thought her heart might stop. Has he learned the
truth? Her eyes darted to each of the people before her:
Karn, Raven, and the other girls. The only one she could
not see was Zian, but she knew he was somewhere behind her.
Is this a trap? Are they distracting me from Zian’s attack?
Dozens of possibilities flooded her mind.
“Mustaffa desires these mages dead above all else,”
Raven explained.
A chill shot down to Opal’s toes.
“He blames these men for his past wounds. I’ve seen
his burns up close; trust me when I say they are very bad.”
“His hand,” Opal recalled.
“His hand, arm, and shoulder.” Raven ran her hand up
her own arm.
One of the older harem slaves, a woman who had
introduced herself as Lillian at Opal’s cabin, suddenly
spoke up.
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“How could these mages be responsible for his burns?”
Lillian asked. “He’s had those scars since the day he stole
me from my family.”
“All that time and he never told you?” Raven sounded
surprised.
“I didn’t always succumb to his desire. I fought him
for many months. He cut off three of my fingers.” Lillian
held up her left hand. “He broke my arm once. It took time,
but I learned to separate myself from… to lose myself.”
Opal saw a flicker of jealousy in Raven’s eyes before
the elf spoke.
“Being his bedmate allowed me the opportunity to
listen to the man’s mumblings as he slept,” she said.
“Mustaffa hates these men. He curses one called the supreme
mage for exiling him to the desert.”
“The desert? What desert?” Karn asked. “There are no
deserts in Illyia.”
“My lands.” Lillian said.
Opal wished she could say something, but she could not
risk it. No matter what, she could not drop the masquerade.
Lucky for her, Zian said what she was thinking.
“Exiled…” the jackalwere mumbled, moving out from
behind Opal. “Could the warlord be Illyian born?”
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Opal exhaled in relief as Zian distanced himself from
her.
“That would certainly explain his knowledge of our
lands.” Raven nodded.
“I always thought he was from my land, the island long
south of here,” said Lillian, sounding uncertain.
Without warning, Malek’s disembodied voice boomed,
“Sleep now.”
“Did you just hear…”
The words were stopped before Raven could finish; the
group, except for Opal, fell asleep. The spell was less
effective on Zian; though rendered sleepy, he remained
awake while the group was magically transported into rooms
inside the mages’ fortress.
In the blink of an eye, Opal found herself standing
alone in a small room. She recognized the room as a vacant
student bedroom by its décor: a bed, a desk, and a chair.
Opal had a chamber just like this one, but hers was
decorated.
“Why have you placed me here?” Opal yelled, knowing
from past experience that there was always at least one
High Council Archmage listening.
When there was no response, Opal stepped to the door
and turned its handle. The door clicked with a sound she
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knew meant it was unlocked, but the door itself did not
budge. She concentrated on the door, summoning a magic
spell she learned ages ago. The spell washed the color from
her vision, leaving only shades of grey. Moments later, a
single color emerged: a green hue that outlined the door
where it met the doorframe. Opal’s suspicions were right;
the mages had used their powers to seal her inside the
room, but why?
She paced the tight space, wall to door, her mind
stuck between two things. Did the mages previously know
Mustaffa? And if so, who was he to them? In her jumbled
brain, only one thing was clear: a growing sense of
mistrust.
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Chapter 17
Splinter
Opal stood deep in a dark forest. She was surrounded
by moss-covered, wilting trees. The ground was moist from a
recent rain, and the air was thick with humidity. She
scanned the area, curious and confused why she was in such
a place so late at night. Before she could uncover an
answer, a woman’s terror-filled scream pierced the night,
quickly followed by the heavy sound of several dozen
armored war horses.
When Opal twisted around, she saw the woman racing
toward her in the distance. She wore garments so torn and
dirty they were nearly unrecognizable as clothing. Her
face—distorted by a look of horrific fear—disguised her
identity.
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As she drew nearer, her pursuers also came into view,
a squad of knights clad in heavy armor and bearing blueand-white pennants. The horseback soldiers relentlessly
pursued the woman as she zigzagged through the dense
forest. Opal knew it was only a matter of moments before
they overcame her. She found herself unable to move, unable
to act. She wanted to help, but all she could do was be
witness to the event. Opal watched, helpless, as the woman
stopped fleeing and turned to face her pursuers.
No, what are you doing? Keep running! You can’t fight
them.
The woman stood defiantly as the knights slowed their
approach. To Opal’s surprise, the young woman raised her
arms, in attack. The woman’s thin limbs erupted with a
thick, purple energy which shot out at the two closest
horsemen. When the magical substance struck the two
horsemen, the woman lifted her arms higher. The two
soldiers were encased in the energy and levitated above
their mounts with a sudden jerking motion. They struggled
to free themselves yet were trapped, like worms caught
between a child’s fingers. In a practiced movement, the
young woman spread her arms out and then slapped her two
hands together. The floating men mirrored her motion and
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suddenly collided with such force that fused them and their
armor together into a single ball of metal and gore.
Four new horsemen rode past the hunk of metal that
encased the broken and battered limbs of what remained of
their fallen friends. Opal screamed. But the young woman
did not hear her warning. Instead, Opal watched her raise
her arms again. A wave of yellow energy erupted toward the
horsemen, but it was too late—they were already upon her.
The two closest soldiers slashed out at her.
Opal shrieked in horror as the girl fell first to her
knees, then face to the ground. She watched as the young
woman’s body convulsed, life rapidly draining from it. I
should have helped her.
As Opal stood there, a sick chill filled her belly.
Suddenly, one of the soldiers pointed directly at her and
shouted a command that was indecipherable, nevertheless
clear as day in meaning. She was next.
Her heart thumped so loudly in her ears that it
drowned out the sounds of the charging horses. Opal tried
to think of a spell, one that would protect her from these
savage men, but nothing came to mind. Her focus was gone
and her mind was blank. It felt as if all her training had
vanished. Opal looked down to her hands. Glow, damn you,
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glow, but there was nothing but empty, pale skin. As she
tilted her head up, the flash of a sword filled her vision.
THUNK!
***
Opal awoke with a terrified scream. Her eyes
frantically flicked around the room seeking some sort of
salvation. When she spotted the door, she launched herself
out of bed with a deep breath, and dashed across the small
room. The force of her body flung the door open wide, but
the edge of the doorframe caught her right foot. Opal fell,
crashing shoulder first into the locked door across the
hall from her. On the cold floor of the silent corridor,
her fear quickly waned. The forest, the soldiers, and the
girl—it was all a dream—a nightmare.
Opal wandered down the hall, clueless to her exact
location in the sprawling fortress. Frustrated, she stopped
and called out to the mages using her mind.
<Yes, young one, I’m here,> Malek said within her
mind.
<Where am I? Where’s Karn?> Opal’s frustration was
mounting.
<Worry not about the Rook. He and his companions are
still here.>
She sighed with relief.
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<You should know this, Opal: Our leaders are deciding
whether to pass your task on to another student.>
“What? No!” Opal shouted aloud. “I demand to speak
with the Supreme Archmage!”
<You can do no such thing,> Malek replied.
<Only I control Karn!>
Malek did not answer, and the growing silence only
made Opal angrier.
<The archmages wish to test you. Simply find your way
back to the meeting room while avoiding notice by any
creatures you many encounter. Pass this test and they will
grant you your meeting.>
<Creatures?> Opal repeated, uneasy at the vagueness of
Malek’s instructions.
<Hurry. They are waiting.>
Opal searched the twisting hallways, trying to get her
bearings. Each hallway looked the same as the last, without
any identifiable sign to her exact location. She entered a
dark corridor that had no end, no staircase leading to
another floor, just another bend that led to yet another
identical hallway. Bewildered, she stopped walking.
Opal thought she knew the mages’ fortress well. Yet
now, she felt distinctly like she was walking aimlessly in
circles. When she returned to Malek’s instructions, she
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realized he said to find the meeting room but never
specified how.
As Opal concentrated on a portal spell, mystical
energy formed in her hands. The glowing purple sphere grew
in size as it did in power. Soon, Opal opened her arms wide
and cast it out several feet before her.
The motion caused a sharp pain in her shoulder and
reminded her of her recent fall. Before the swirling purple
lights of the portal, and without the slightest thought or
word, she began to heal herself. The bright red glow from
her hand shone into her eyes. Opal blinked back tears and
when she was again able to focus she saw a stone statue of
an armor-clad warrior carrying a sword and shield blocking
her way.
Opal had never seen a statue like this one. Instead of
smooth or chiseled stone, like an artisan would use, it
appeared to be made of the same rock as the mountain, rough
chunks of dirty stone with sharp edges. As she examined it
further, she noticed areas of the rock were still moist
with mud and others that were thinly covered with darkgreen moss. Fascinated by the mysterious angles of the
statue’s face, Opal reached up and ran her palm over them.
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“So odd,” Opal said aloud. Could this thing be part of
my test? Why? Perhaps it would frighten the younger
students, but I’ve seen and faced worse.
As she went to move away a rapidly approaching sword
suddenly appeared before her. Reactively, Opal magically
summoned a magical shield. A thick green fluid materialized
in front of her just as the weapon struck. It saved her
from the sword’s razor-sharp slice, but not the force of
its collision. The impact knocked her to the cold stone
floor where she slid into something behind her.
Opal’s anger spiked. Do not think; react. Fight back.
However livid she was, she knew she was injured. As Opal
smeared her sweat from her hand with the fresh blood from
her wounds, she felt several deep lacerations.
The temperature of the room seemed to elevate as she
gazed at her bloodstained fingertips. Past her blurring
hand, she spotted the statue take a step toward her.
Opal marveled at its combination of inhuman and human
qualities. Although seemingly solid stone, it moved as any
man would, shifting its weight, swinging its hips, and
lifting its feet. Its pace was steady.
Entranced, Opal sat and watched as the stone shifted,
broke, and then reformed, as it mended itself with each
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step forward. Once again in striking distance, the stone
soldier raised the sword it held in its hand.
Opal’s mind flashed back to the moment she had killed
the giant outside Weiden’s Rise’s prison, and instantly,
her hands began to radiate with the same amber aura. Before
she could even point, a thick beam shot out, blasting
through the stone warrior. Hundreds of small chunks of rock
spilled from the statue to the floor in front of her, but
before she could recover, two cold, rock hands grabbed her
shoulders and lifted her from the ground.
“Off me!”
Opal tilted her head back as she rose from the ground.
Impossible, she thought. Not another one? With every muscle
in her worn-out body, she struggled to free herself from
the thing’s tight grasp. The crunch of rock in the stone
soldier’s arms grew louder as it lifted over its head. It
means to throw me…
“Karn!” Opal screamed just before being pitched
headfirst down the hall.
There was a peaceful sensation of weightlessness—just
a flash of time, a second where Opal thought she might be
okay, right before she fell hard to her back. The force
tumbled her end over end and snapped her collarbone in two.
Vessels in her shoulder exploded into action, pumping blood
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out of the fresh wound, where a broken end of bone jutted
from her flesh. Opal wrenched in pain as her body seized,
and her pale skin flared to a shade of red that nearly
matched her hair. A scream punched through her clenched
teeth. She felt as if every nerve in her body was about to
erupt with volcanic pressure.
As the stone warrior approached Opal, her twisted body
unraveled and her chest no longer rose and fell with the
beat of life.
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Chapter 18
Fragment
Copious blood pooled near Opal’s head; the living-rock
solider had won.
Slowly, the stone that was fused together to form its
body crumbled away. At first, only small rocks shed from
the torso, but then the stone man’s arm fell to the ground,
followed by his leg breaking off at the hip. Upon impact
with the floor, his entire body shattered into pieces that
no longer resembled anything other than a pile of rubble.
Moments later, Malek and the five archmages stepped
out from around the bend in the hallway.
“She fell quite easily to your golem, Malek,” Justice
said as they approached Opal’s body.
Dusk grumbled. “She lacks offensive training. I told
you all that I should’ve begun training her long ago.”
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“I suppose it proves her powers are not as great as
they seemed when we sensed them surge earlier,” Stinger
said, smirking.
“This one had such potential.” Limper sighed, looking
sad to see a student defeated. “Shall we have Max take her
place now?”
The mages formed a semicircle around Opal. Regardless
of the fact that Opal had claimed to be the only one able
to control the Rook, Dusk had stood in opposition to the
others.
“Enough time and energy has been wasted on… this.” The
dark mage nodded in her direction.
“Are you saying we should release the Rook without
guidance, hmm? We paired them for a reason. Do you think
he’ll just leave without her?” Justice argued. “Have we not
traveled down this dangerous road before?”
“We did not pair them,” Dusk said. “She chose him.”
“It was our idea.”
“When the Supreme Archmage finds out that we killed
her, he’ll have our heads!” Stinger’s smirk had changed
into a look of fear as he backed away from Opal’s broken
body.
“Then maybe we should raise her from the dead, before
it’s too late.” Limper’s voice shook.
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“Do not expect me to waste my energy on this failure.”
Dusk turned away from the group and walked back in the
direction from which they had come.
“Then might I make another suggestion?” Malek asked.
“Is there not another young girl, the one imprisoned below?
She who uses her magic to take on the guise of others? That
girl, would she not be more… susceptible to our
management?”
“You don’t know what you’re suggesting, Malek,” Dusk
said from down the hall.
“I think I understand,” Limper whispered. “Malek
suggests a ruse.”
“Yes, a ruse that would allow one to fulfill another’s
responsibilities.” Justice pointed to Opal as blood
continued trickling from her wounds.
Malek smiled and nodded.
“Good then. Are we all agreed?” Justice asked.
“Agreed,” Dusk, Limper, Whistler, and Stinger chimed.
“I’ll summon a servant imp to clean up this mess
while we finalize our new plan,” Malek stated.
Once in full agreement, the group moved on, leaving
Malek alone with Opal’s broken body. He stared down at her
for an instant, reminiscing about all the times she had
questioned his orders. The longer he thought about it, the
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more obvious his true feelings for her became. He hated
her. He hated her youth, hated her abilities, and most of
all, he hated her arrogance. As he took one last look at
her, he smiled thinly.
“Rot,” he said before he spat in her face and walked
away.
***
Just as Malek exited the hallway, Karn rounded the
opposite end. He was shocked by what he saw. Opal was
motionless on the stone floor, blood pooling around her
head and shoulders. Karn dashed down the hallway, slid to
his knees beside her, and cradled Opal’s limp body. He
rocked her back and forth as he imagined what must have
happened. They killed her.
“Those sick bastards!” Karn cried.
Karn drew Opal’s lifeless body tightly to his chest.
As he brushed Opal’s hair back, a dull orange and red glow
pulsed from her body. It grew in strength, lighting the
dark hallway as it pushed her body free from his grip.
Karn backed away and watched in awe as the red-orange
energy lifted her from the ground, upright. Then, before
his eyes, the magical force began to fix her terrible
wounds. The broken bones in her shoulder meshed back
together before they sunk back into her body. Impossible,
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he thought as Opal’s torn flesh sealed itself. Her shoulder
looks as though it was never harmed.
Suddenly, Opal lifted her head and opened her eyes.
When she did, the magical aura vanished and the hallway
went dark.
“It worked,” she whispered between deep, labored
breaths. “Nearly killed me…”
“Opal?” Karn asked softly.
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Chapter 19
Crack
Opal did not look at Karn when he spoke; her vision
was locked on the shimmering red pool of blood. She could
not stop staring at the viscous fluid that she knew had
come from her wounds. A chill ran down her spine. Such an
amount—the human body only holds so much. Opal had seen her
share of men die from blood loss.
“Opal?” Karn said again.
Hesitantly, Opal tried to cover herself. The damage to
her clothes—the exposure only added to the discomfort and
growing weakness she felt. With a loud sigh, she gazed down
at herself.
“Opal!”
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Opal finally looked at Karn. He stood there with such
a look of utter bewilderment on his face, that she had to
ask.
“What did you see?”
“You looked dead!”
“What did you see?” she repeated.
“I just got here. I-I saw your teacher, that old goatfaced bastard.”
“What did you see?”
“I saw him walking away from you. I thought he killed
you.”
“He—” Opal began to speak.
“What happened? How are you alive?” Karn asked,
wrapping his arms around her. “Why did he do this to you?”
A tiny giggle echoed from a distant hallway. Opal had
heard stories of the imps summoned by the mages to clean
the castle, but she had never seen one before. When she
first joined the council, she and another student stayed
awake night after night hoping to catch a glimpse of one of
the imps, but all they got for their effort were sleepless
nights and dark circles under their eyes.
“I need you to go back to your room and hide,” Opal
said, pushing Karn away from her.
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“No. We need to get out of here. You need to get out
of here.”
Tired and in no mood to argue, Opal called once more
upon the charm spell she had used to control Karn. Her
voice lowered and she told him again: “Go to your room.
Wait for me.”
“Go to my room, wait,” Karn repeated in a similar
tone, then turned and walked away.
Exhausted, a single word popped into Opal’s mind.
“Illusion?” she whispered to herself.
Before Opal could prepare a spell, her body began to
glow orange. She raised her hands, palm up, curious to the
magic’s origin. I have not cast a spell yet. How is this
possible? When the normal tingle of magic washed over her
body, she was stunned. Her spell was working itself without
her guidance.
She heard more giggles; the imp was getting closer.
But her body had also begun to change. Amazed, she watched
as her skin turned gray and brown, like the stones behind
her. Her flesh had turned to rock. Gently, she ran her hand
down her side. It felt warm and sweaty beneath her hand as
it rose and fell with her every breath. This must be the
illusion spell I was preparing to cast, but I had not
finished it yet.
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Moments later a small, red-skinned creature marched
around the corner of the hallway. At first glance, he
appeared almost human, like a walking red baby. He’s
wearing a diaper…
Yet, as it came closer to Opal, it became less human
and more devilish. Its head was much larger than a child’s,
and its chunky arms were muscular and out of proportion.
Although the imp moved quickly, walking barefoot across the
stone floor, it swung its hips, apparently having to put a
lot of effort into walking. Is it another creation of the
mages? Opal wondered. Or is it yet another race unknown to
man, like the jackalwere?
The little red imp carried a human-sized broom over
his shoulder and a cloth sack in his left hand. As it began
to clean up the broken stone on the floor, it giggled and
turned around. There, protruding from its diaper was a tiny
red tail. The hook-shaped tail wiggled back and forth to
the imp’s laughter. Opal smiled as she watched this
creature, only a foot tall, use a broom that was almost
four feet long.
While observing the imp, the mages’ fortress had
suddenly grown warmer. When she tried to wipe sweat out of
her eyes, she realized it was not the fortress that was
hot; it was her. The room began to spin. In a blink of the
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eye, Opal had fallen to the floor. The sound of her
collapse alerted the tiny groundskeeper, yet he seemed
unsurprised by her appearance.
Opal’s consciousness greyed as her illusion faded, and
just before everything went black, the giggling imp grabbed
her by the foot and began to drag her down the hall.
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Chapter 20
Alive
“Alive,” the imp declared in a short huff as he opened
the door.
Seated in their dark meeting room, the archmages all
whipped toward the imp.
“Opal is alive?” Stinger gasped. “By some means do you
think the girl healed her own wounds? She never showed such
aptitude when I trained her.”
“Perhaps we were hasty in our judgment.” Limper
replied.
Dusk stood and announced that he would cast a small
spell to determine Opal’s health.
“Interesting. Could her powers be so innate, they cast
themselves to repair her as a natural defense?” Dusk
revealed his findings.
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“Perhaps I haven’t given her enough credit. Let us
rethink our use for this one and come to a decision in the
morning,” Justice said.
“Agreed.”
The archmages placed Opal in a room where she could
rest and recuperate, yet when they used their combined
magic to teleport her, their hold on the slumber spell that
embraced Raven, Zian, and the rest of the harem women
loosened for a moment.
***
Zian awoke with a sudden jolt. He instantly, leapt
across the room to the small, stone window; its wooden
shutters were wide open. His mind and senses, which were
normally in tune with nature, were tangled between now and
the moments before the archmages put him to sleep. His
inner rage, which he worked hard to keep in check, now
swelled to proportions even he did not know were possible.
Zian turned and found the door, his heartbeat
thumping. He drew back his arm and, with one massive
stroke, broke down the wooden door before him. With a gleam
of red in his eye and the anticipation of blood on his
tongue, he bolted from the room.
***
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The archmages had adjourned for the day. All had
retired to their rooms except one. Stinger wandered off
toward the room Raven had been placed in.
Quietly creeping down the hallway, Stinger
unexpectedly came eye to eye with Zian.
“No!”
A flash of yellow mystical energy lit up the hall, but
Zian was too fast. His teeth fastened into the mage’s
throat and the man immediately fell limp. Blood poured
down, over the old mages robes as Zian threw his lifeless
body into the wall. The force of the impact was so great
Zian could hear the archmage’s brittle spine shatter
against the stone.
***
The remainder of the archmages could sense their
companion’s fear. They rushed to his aid—some teleported,
others flew—but it was too late. One of their own was dead.
Their grief lasted only a moment before Malek arrived.
“I sensed something was wrong.”
“This is not good,” Dusk stated. “The beast man—his
kind is far too resistant magic. I cannot be sure which
spells will harm him.”
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“They’ve always posed a great threat to us,” Justice
said, speaking almost directly to his owl. “Curse their
blessing from Mother Nature!”
“That’s all unconfirmed, worthless legend,” Malek
interjected. “Have any of you fought one of their kind? No?
Well, I transported him here. I can transport him out.”
“You see? We can overcome this together,” Limper said
to Dusk.
“The details do not concern me. All that matters is
that we need to expel this disease from our home before it
does any more harm,” Dusk replied and then grumbled.
“Agreed,” the others said.
The archmages joined hands, yet the absence of one of
their five left a void in their circle. They turned to the
only other man standing in the room: Malek.
“It seems that you have proven your worth to us,
Malek,” Justice stated. “Join us?”
“The Supreme Archmage will be pleased to have you join
us.” Limper added.
“Do you think I would actually turn down such a honor
within the High Council?” Malek answered as he joined hands
with the others.
The circle was once again completed.
***
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The archmages reconvened in Opal’s room and surrounded
her minuscule bed as if it were their meeting table. She
was unconscious, still as a sleeping baby before the group.
“The plan has been corrupted. Let us sever the ties
before anything else happens,” Malek said. “She’s too hard
to control, always has been.”
“No, too much has transpired. Too many have died,”
Justice said. “She’s one of us and has as much to lose as
we do. I have a plan.”
He cast a spell to awaken Opal, but not before Dusk
erased her most recent memories. As the group anxiously
waited for her to regain consciousness, Malek paced.
“What happened?” Opal whispered, her mouth dry and a
look of surprise on her face. “Why are you all here? In my
room?”
“There was an accident during your training, Opal. We
had to heal you.”
“I was hurt?”
“Yes. And while you recovered, we discussed the issues
at length. Opal, we have come to an agreement to replace
you in your task,” Justice explained.
“No!”
“No?” Malek echoed her. “We will simply erase the
Rook’s memory and start anew.”
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“No. It’s too late,” Opal announced. “I-I cast a
protection spell on him… Back when we escaped Mustaffa’s
prison. My spell will shield him from all harmful magic
with the exception of mine.”
“You did what?” Malek shouted.
“How could you cast such a spell?” Dusk demanded.
“Where did you learn it?”
“You’ve made a dire mistake!” Malek turned red with
anger.
The little room swirled with emotions until Justice
spoke.
“We’ll let you continue with your task and give you a
chance to prove this new measure of power you claim to
have.”
“How?”
“Kill the jackalwere.”
Opal stood. She smoothed down the wrinkles of her
tattered, gore-soaked clothing and then stated clearly,
“I’ll do no such thing.”
“Watch your tone, fledgling!” Malek said. “Remember
your place!”
“Remember yours!” Opal poked Malek in the chest.
“I should cast you out for your impudence!”
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“I have a better idea. You all want proof? Allow me to
supply you with final proof of my abilities. And allow me
to show the Supreme Archmage that it is I who should be the
next archmage, not Malek.”
“This is absurd,” Malek cried out. “You’re a lowly
student.”
Justice scowled at Malek before he spoke. “Please go
on.”
“I suggest a contest of power, mine versus Malek’s.”
Limper looked excited, his cheeks flushed. “A
contest?”
“There has not been a contest of power for many, many
generations,” Dusk said and then shook his head.
“Do you even understand the implications of such a
request?” Malek’s hands shook.
“You were not trained in combat, Opal,” Justice added.
“Not formally.”
“My books!” Dusk’s voice, so filled with anger, hit a
high pitch. “Finally, the weasel stealing my books has been
revealed!”
“I invoke my rights to a sapping contest.”
“Sapping contest?” Malek laughed. “Those are nothing
more than rumors among the youngest of our students. No
such contest has ever been held.”
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Opal rolled her eyes. “If I win, the Supreme Archmage
will raise me to archmage status. Then there will be no
further interference, and I will be allowed to complete my
task. My task. If Malek wins, he may drain me of my powers
and cast me out of the High Council forever.”
When Opal was done, the room plummeted into sudden
silence. The archmages traded looks, some of which read as
disturbed, others as fascinated. They spoke to each other
in whispers, but Opal could not hear them. When Justice at
last spoke, it was to ask a single question.
“What say you, Malek?”
Malek turned to Opal. “I have listened to your selfrighteous, overconfident words all day, student. I accept
your challenge. I accept because it is past time you were
expelled from this school.”
“So be it,” Justice announced. “The contest will be
held—”
“Right now,” Opal interjected.
Malek sneered. “Fine by me, fledgling.”
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Chapter 21
Graduation
Opal stood with arms crossed. She awaited her opponent
at the opposite end of the hallway in which she had nearly
lost her life earlier. She had surprised her teachers
today, but no more than they had surprised her.
Opal could still hear their faint words in her head;
they had somehow seeped through her unconsciousness. Malek
betrayed her trust; she could sense it.
He’s made bold moves to become an archmage, and it
feels as if he’s walked over my back doing so. She sighed.
As long as it’s not my grave… I may need help.
Charcoal grey smoke blew through an open window. Opal
watched as it clouded the opposite end of the hallway. It
was Malek—not the man, but his magic; she had witnessed the
signs of his pompous transportation spell before. A useless
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formality. Opal also knew that while the smoke was hanging
in the air, he would not be able to see her or cast another
spell. This is my best chance. Opal thought before she used
her magic to call out to Karn’s mind.
<Karn, I need you. The old mage has attacked me. Come
now!>
No sooner had the smoke billowed forth than it
dissipated, and her opponent was revealed in its wake.
Malek stood with staff in hand, a look more serious than
Opal had ever remembered seeing on his face. Have I made a
mistake?
***
Karn opened his eyes and stood. His sudden motion
startled Raven who had been calling out his name and
snapping her fingers in his face. Karn watched Raven
stumble and fall backward, but he snatched her failing arm
and held her up before she hit the ground.
“Karn, you scared me!”
“I was waiting for Opal.”
“I’ve got news for you. We have to find her, Zian, and
the others now right now. There’s a dead mage out there and
I’m not staying to find out who or what killed him,” Raven
nearly shouted.
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Still holding her arm, Karn drug Raven out of the
room.
“I know where she is, follow me.”
“Follow?” Raven said as she tried to pull herself
free. “Do I have a choice?”
Within the labyrinth of hallways that was the mages’
fortress, Karn searched for Opal. It seemed that each turn
led to another long hallway and each hallway hindered them
with a new set of locked doors. With each step, Raven’s
breathing grew faster, her anxiety intensified—Karn
would’ve swore it was tangible.
“How are your ribs? Can you fight?” Raven asked as
they walked down another passageway.
“Better. I’m beginning to think that they are not even
broken.”
“So you can fight?”
“Yes, of course,” he said before suddenly stopping.
“Stay here, Raven.”
“Okay.”
Karn nodded and then broke into a sprint.
***
Malek whipped around, his magical staff pointed at
Opal as he pivoted. A glowing yellow sphere grew from the
tip, aimed directly at her.
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“Defiance!” he yelled at Opal.
Opal did not move. She stood her ground across the
thirty some feet that separated them. She held a similar
glowing ball of light in her hands. When the light at the
end of his staff grew to the size of a melon, Opal could
see him whisper to it. He’s going to fire it at me… now.
The golden, flickering sphere lit up the hallway as it
shot toward her. She dove to the fortress floor, the heat
of the sphere sizzled across her legs. Close, she thought.
“Never again.” She jumped to her feet, and heaved her
weapon spell at Malek.
“You think you can copy my entire repertoire of
spells, fledgling?” he shouted.
Malek pointed his staff at the incoming ball, the
ornamental end absorbing it and then firing a new beam of
pulsating yellow-colored force back at her.
Opal cast a shield spell, which encased her in a
bubble of thick jade-colored energy. The force of Malek’s
spell pushed against her with such pressure that, even with
her shield present, she felt as if the air was punched out
of her lungs. Malek’s not just trying to best me—he’s
trying to kill me.
Opal summoned a reserve of power she did not realize
she had until a few days ago. After she visualized it, she
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reshaped her shield into a flat square that stretched to
the edges of the hallway—wall to wall and floor to ceiling.
Then, with all her power, she forced the shield toward
Malek.
Karn appeared behind Malek, and distracted, Opal’s
magic began to fizzle. Malek’s attack to her shield was
becoming more dangerous by the moment.
“No!” Karn shouted.
Opal’s shield abruptly faded away, and when it did,
Malek’s yellow beam of energy struck her directly in the
chest, lifting her off her feet and slamming her into the
ceiling before dropping her face-first to the floor.
“You’re nothing! Worthless! Pathetic!”
His insults hurt worse than his attack. Enraged, Opal
pushed past the dizziness that overcame her and swiftly
rose to her feet. Without hesitation, she summoned a pair
of the burning beams of light she had used to attack the
jail keepers with and fired them at Malek.
“Karn, you’re weaponless!” Raven shouted as she ran up
behind him.
“I have to do something,” Karn yelled back.
“You can’t get any closer. You’ll be struck down by
their magic.”
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Opal took her eyes off her opponent for only a second,
and when she looked back, he had created his own magical
shield. Malek deflected the beams, which burned two holes
into the wall beside him. The fortress trembled and stones
that had stood in place for centuries cracked and fell from
the ceiling. Opal watched Karn and Raven drop, their
footing lost during the quake.
Feeling weak, Opal thought before she collapsed onto
her hands and knees. Malek approached, his smug look told
her what he was thinking—he believes he’s won. But Opal
recalled a series of spells she had read in one of Dusk’s
books. As she remembered the incantations, her hands began
to radiate with a dull mud-colored energy.
“Yield, student!”
Opal turned her hands over, and the large brown
spheres broke into dozens smaller ones that were no larger
than marbles. She rolled them to the ground before Malek’s
feet as he took his final steps toward her.
“You have so much to learn.” Malek laughed as he
watched the brown balls fall through the cracks in the
floor in front of him. “Pity you will never get the
chance.”
Malek planted his staff in the ground, and it flashed
with bright and colorful light. Opal covered her eyes. She
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could hear each breath she took echo in her mind. She
expected the sensation of her magical energies being
drained to be an excruciatingly painful experience, and
when she felt nothing, she uncovered one eye with
curiosity. To her surprise, Malek was otherwise occupied.
Bright green, ivy-like roots were rapidly growing from
the cracks in the floor and tying themselves around his
feet and legs. He tried to break them with the end of his
staff, but the strange plants were too robust. The more he
struggled, the larger the magical roots grew, becoming
stronger with each passing moment. Up to her knees again,
Opal kept an ever-watchful eye on the old mage, until a
final surge broke him free of her spell.
“You’ll pay for this!” he screamed in her face.
From the tip of Malek’s staff a pitch-black force
formed. Opal had never seen powers materialize in such a
way but had heard rumors from other students that black
energy signaled death magic.
<Now, Karn.>
“You’ll never hurt her again, mage!” The sound of his
voice made Opal’s heart leap, and she watched as Karn
wrapped his arms around the old man. “Now you die!”
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Malek’s smug face turn gaunt with fear and it made her
smile. There’s nothing you can do. There’s no way you’ll
risk damaging the council’s best weapon. <I win, Malek.>
“You can’t,” Malek groaned as he struggled to free
himself.
“Let me, Karn,” she whispered, staying her lover’s
hand.
Opal drew her hand to her lips, and then sprayed a
yellow-brown mist over Malek that clung to his skin and
clothing. Malek shrieked as the top layer of his skin dried
up and turned a pale ash color. Side by side, Karn and Opal
watched as the once-powerful mage fell to the floor and a
swirling tornado of pulsating magical energy rose from his
back and promptly dissipated into the air around them.
“No, you filthy cur… you mustn’t do this to me.” Malek
breathed heavily as he struggled to stand. “You-you’re only
a student…”
“I’ve graduated,” Opal said softly.
Karn pressed down on the back of the old mage’s neck,
holding the evil man in place until he ceased to move—Malek
was finally finished.
“Where did all this blood come from?” Karn asked, his
attention on Opal.
“It’s mine, but I’m fine,” she replied wearily.
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Karn demanded to know what happened to her as he led
her away from the mage’s body.
“Please, my love, we must leave now,” Opal said as she
took one last look at Malek, crumpled on the ground like a
pile of old discarded clothes.
“This way.” Karn pulled her down the hallway. “Raven?”
he called out.
Her voice came from the darkness of the hallway.
“Zian’s out there. He’s freed the girls. He’s moving fast.
Heading for the mountains, I’d wager,” Raven explained.
“Good,” Karn replied. “Now how do we—”
“Easy,” Opal answered.
Opal raised her hands over her head and cupped them
together at their apex. A bright violet glow leaked from
between her fingers. When she opened her hands, particles
of energy sprinkled down over Karn, Raven, and herself, and
in less than a finger snap’s time the group transported
away.
They were in the forest below the mages’ mountaintop
fortress. Obviously disoriented, Karn and Raven looked
around, but before she could tell them where they were,
Opal collapsed into Karn’s arms.
“Something’s wrong!”
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Karn brushed the hair from her eyes and felt her head.
His hand’s are like ice. Opal felt her eyes roll back; then
her body jerked violently. As Karn placed her gently upon
the soft grass, she reopened her eyes and drew a deep
gasping breath.
“I-I feel horrible, like death’s hand is on my chest.”
“Are you hurt?” Karn asked, concerned.
“I’m not sure…” Opal groaned. “W-we best get far away
from here.”
“Those bastards. What have they done to you?” Karn
said between clenched teeth as he helped her back to her
feet.
“Where’s Raven?” Opal asked instead of answering.
“Raven!” Karn shouted.
“I have to follow Zian,” Raven shouted from the trees
where she had walked off too. “He needs me. He saved my
life once. I owe him.”
“Wait!” Opal’s shout shrunk into a series of coughs.
“Let her go.” Karn dropped his head down in
frustration. “Let her go…”
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Chapter 22
Exodus
Much later that night, Karn and Opal shuffled along a
dirt road. It was the first sign of civilization they had
found since they’d left the High Council’s training fields
at the base of the mountain.
The strange fever that gripped Opal’s body had yet to
break, and as a result, she felt extremely weak. For Opal,
each step was a battle with pain. Her body was coated with
blood from the day before, her clothes ripped and stained.
Disgusting, she thought as she ran her hand through her
hair, which was limp, knotted, and greasy. With her arms
wrapped tightly around her stomach, Opal attempted to
conceal the signs of hunger that now nagged her. She did
not want to add to Karn’s concerns.
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Karn stared at the dirt path as he walked beside Opal.
She could sense his worry and she could have listened in on
his thoughts with a small spell, but she was afraid it
would be too much for her to handle at the moment. Instead,
Opal watched Karn’s lips as they mouthed words so lightly
spoken that the gusting winds took before she could hear.
She knew that he was troubled, but she had never seen him
like this before.
How long has it been since he’s acknowledged me? It
was late, well past midnight—Opal could tell by the stars–
when they came to the gates of a large town. The entrance
was open, as if the inhabitants had nothing to fear. Opal
sighed. How is it possible for anyone to feel safe now?
“There’s likely to be a tavern here,” Karn whispered.
“I don’t have any coin. Do you?”
“Where would I keep it?” she answered.
***
For the first time since they left the fortress, Karn
took a good, long look at Opal. Her clothing was tattered,
her blouse bloodstained, and her left breast exposed
through a jagged tear. Her skirt hung wilted around her
waist, matted and creased. It was the only part of her garb
that was not completely ruined with blood.
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Her hands… Karn watched as they quaked. She’s
trembling. Is she sick? Even her shoulder, which was
exposed through another tear, was shaking. Karn rubbed the
caked blood off of her collarbone, her skin was freezing
cold.
“Your skin feels like ice.”
“This cold northern air…” Opal said softly in
response. “My clothes have been reduced to rags, as you can
plainly see.”
He stared at her pale face as she spoke. The longer he
looked, the more Opal’s visage looked like those men whom
he had seen dying on the battlefield.
“We need to find you someplace to rest, right away.”
“Thank you,” she whispered weakly.
As they entered the town, Karn looked it over. It may
not have been as large as Weiden’s Rise’s town, but it was
still quite sizeable. Normally, villages this big would
have a castle or stronghold, at least tall stone walls for
protection. This one does not. I count four stone
watchtowers, one at each corner. Combined with a half-built
wooden fence… What do they hope to stop? Coyotes? Wolves at
best?
As they walked around, he realized the place was not
in such good condition. Karn’s mood matched what he saw and
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became even more grim as he noticed that the buildings on
the west side of the town were in ruins. Whatever destroyed
those buildings did so a long time ago, Karn concluded.
Thick moss and ivy covers what must have been the original
shops and homes.
On the other hand, the buildings on the opposite side
of town were clean and newly built.
“Do you smell that?” Opal asked.
Karn could smell wood burning. “Follow me.”
In the middle of the town square stood a large,
sprawling elm tree, stretching high above the tallest
buildings in town. Although a magnificent tree, some of its
branches hung down low to the ground, with leaves that were
shriveled and dead.
“That tree, I sense—”
“There.” Karn interrupted Opal. He hurried forward,
Opal in tow, until he reached the door of the inn. “I guess
I could steal…”
“No, sell this.” Opal opened her hand; in her palm, a
rough green gem sparkled.
“Where did you get that?”
“I picked up a stone at the gate and used a spell to
transform it. It’s not real. Hurry though; it can be
unstable. Sometimes the stones will crumble.”
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Karn nodded. “Just wait here and don’t do anything,
okay?”
Opal coughed as she nodded her acceptance.
“I’ll be right back.”
When Karn opened the door, he was enveloped by a wave
of warm air that carried the smell of hot food upon it. He
stepped in and took one last quick look over his shoulder
at Opal.
The building was larger inside than it appeared from
the outside. At first glance, Karn could see a bar on the
right and at least eight square tables on the left. There
even appeared to be another room in the back. Something’s
wrong, but what? Four elven warriors were seated at a table
off to the side. The men quietly drank their ale. They look
like hunters, Karn thought, but still decided to keep an
attentive eye on them.
“Are you the owner?” Karn asked, as he laid eyes on a
tall and very skinny man behind the bar.
The man looked up from the rim of a wooden tankard he
cleaned with his towel. “Why yes, yes, I am the owner.
Welcome to the First Inn of New Maejika,” he said.
“Good. Innkeeper, I need a room for the night.”
“Certainly.”
“Can I trade you this?”
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“Is that—”
“A rare gem, yes.” Karn interrupted.
“Where did you find it?” the innkeeper asked as he
inspected it excitedly.
“Do we have a trade or must I take my business
elsewhere?”
“Not in this town.”
Karn bit down on his growing anger. He drew in a deep
breath and held it. “Do we have a trade or not?”
“Of course.”
Karn clarified. “Two nights lodging and food for me
and my companion.”
“Very well.”
Karn crossed his arms. “Good.”
The innkeeper turned to a pile of crudely made iron
keys that were stacked carelessly on a shelf. He shoved the
keys around until he found the one he needed.
“Here’s your key—room four, upstairs,” he said as he
tossed it to Karn.
Karn hurried, throwing open the door with a stiff arm
and stepping outside impatiently. Opal was curled up in a
near fetal position on a patch of hay adjacent to the door,
shivering violently. Without a word, Karn scooped her up
and reentered the inn.
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“Innkeeper, send bath water to my room,” he ordered,
forestalling any questions from the skinny man. “Right
away.”
With Opal in his arms, Karn marched past the
onlookers. He ignored the eyes and focused only on his
objective. Once at their room, Karn opened the door and
took a peek inside. The space was small, not much bigger
than the rooms inside the mages’ fortress. The floors were
wooden, a welcome change from the cold stone floors and the
dirt road his feet had trod all day. Most importantly, the
room was clean. At its center was a large bed, big enough
for two. Across from the bed sat a small desk, two chairs,
and a bookcase filled with books. The titles of several
books caught his attention: Magic’s Mysteries, Mages and
Magic, and Profitable Magic.
Who do these books belong to? The innkeeper? Might the
man hold some degree of magical power himself? Could he
detect the spell Opal used on the gem? There’s no time to
worry about all that now.
Karn laid Opal down on the bed and then stretched.
“No. I’ll dirty the linen,” she moaned as she pulled
herself into a sitting position.
“What have we become?” Karn asked as he sat beside
her.
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Opal rested her head on his shoulder and began to
weep. Karn could barely stand to see her cry. Her tears
grated his already frayed nerves so much that he stood up,
walked across the room to the door, and paused.
“Damn it!” Karn broke the silence with a shout and a
strike to the wall that made a loud blunt crash.
Opal lifted her head and looked directly at him. Their
eyes connected, and when they did, the throbbing in his
hand ceased.
“Did you just punch the wall?”
“I swear I’ll kill each and every one of them myself!”
Karn proclaimed.
“Who?”
“The damned mages! I will cleave their—”
“Karn, stop. Your hand’s bleeding.” Opal pointed.
A light tap on the door cut the tension. Karn threw
open the door. Two young men dressed as servants, and a
wooden tub awaited him.
“Your bath, sir,” one said. “We’ll go fetch the
water.”
“Good. Be quick.”
The men deposited the tub inside and hurried out,
returning in a few moments with four large buckets of
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steaming hot water which they emptied as fast as they
could.
Karn shook his head, exhaled, and then returned his
attention to Opal. As he opened his mouth to speak, he
realized she had slumped over, fast asleep.
“Opal, the bathwater’s here.”
“I’m too tired. Let me sleep,” she muttered, and then
rolled herself over to her stomach.
The effects of a very long day pushed Karn. I’m done
being courteous.
“Have it your way,” he said, and with a quick, hard
yank, ripped the skirt from her hips.
Karn tore the remaining shreds of clothing from Opal’s
body, then lifted her limp form up and into the tub. The
warm water burned the open scrapes on Karn’s knuckles and
caused Opal to moan.
What stirs me so badly that I feel the need to fight,
even now? Karn asked himself as he stepped back and watched
Opal. Shouldn’t I feel more compassion? This is my lover
and she’s clearly exhausted. Karn watched Opal hang her
arms over the sides of the old tub, her fingertips brushing
the dirty floor. I should help her.
Karn knelt behind her, and moved her long red hair to
the side so he could clean her back. With a crude brush in
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hand, he gently scrubbed and washed away the filth on her
flesh. When he was sure he had finished, he lifted her up
and gently placed her on the bed.
So much had transpired that Karn’s head felt full.
Tired, but not ready for sleep, he sat on the bed beside
her, watching, checking every once in a while to be sure
she was still breathing.
***
Morning seemed to come quickly. Karn woke to find Opal
curled up next to him, still deep asleep. Careful not to
wake her, he slipped out of bed and crossed the room to the
window. The day was cool and sunny. Autumn grips these
northern regions of Illyia more tightly than our homelands
to the south. A sudden gust of wind blew in, catching the
shutters and slamming them into the stone wall with a
booming crash.
Opal blinked awake. “Good morning.” She yawned and
stretched.
“Almost afternoon,” Karn corrected her as he leaned in
closer to look her in the face. “Are you well?”
“Very much so.” Opal smiled.
“You were seriously ill yesterday after the fight. And
you looked no better than a corpse last night.”
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“How many living, breathing corpses do you know, my
love?” Opal sat up in bed, grinning.
“Just you,” Karn answered, matching her grin. “Are you
sure you’re well?”
“With the exception of being so hungry my stomach has
twisted into a knot, I’m fine.”
“Well then, Lady Corpse, let us go scare up some
food.”
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Chapter 23
Paintings
A short while later, Opal and Karn sat at a corner
table in the inn’s public room. They ate like starving
animals after a fresh kill; as quickly as food could be
delivered, it was devoured. After Karn shoveled the last
helping of eggs off his plate, he wiped his plate clean
with a piece of bread and belched magnificently. Opal would
have laughed at his impolite table manners if it were not
for the fact she had buried her face in her food too. When
the final crumb was eaten and the remains cleared from the
table, Opal leaned over and kissed him.
“Thank you for the new clothes,” she said as she
brushed her hand across her chest to remove any crumbs that
might have settled there.
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They were the cheapest clothes that New Maejika had to
offer, no different from what most of the townsfolk wore.
They reminded her of clothes she had worn in the past, a
lifetime ago…
“This seems to be a fairly popular spot,” Karn said
after a quick look around.
Opal agreed. Since the moment they had sat down, she
had noticed dozens of townsfolk come and go. An interesting
variety of people called New Maejika their home. Karn told
her how he had seen elves the night before, and they had
already seen a few others today.
Most fascinating were the paintings that adorned the
inn’s walls. As far as she could tell, each painting
displayed some sort of fantastical event. While Karn told
her about a dream he had the night before, she stared at
the closest painting. When her eyes focused on the brush
strokes, she realized what all the paintings had in common.
“Magic.”
“Speaking of which, Opal, I have a favor to ask,” Karn
said as he took her hand.
“What? Anything.”
“Try not to use any magic here unless you absolutely
have to,” Karn whispered as he gripped her hand.
“No magic?”
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Karn quickly hushed her, bewildering Opal.
“There are at least a dozen books about magic in our
room.”
“Like these paintings.” Opal nodded her head at the
painting closest to them.
“Shit.” Karn murmured. “I had not realized. I bet
these people here know about the council.”
Opal did not know how to respond. There had never been
any mention of this town, or any town, so near the
fortress.
Not when I joined. Not while I studied or worked with
the archmages. Opal tapped her fist on the table as she
thought. Nothing was ever said. Obviously, the council
didn’t want the students to know about this place. But why?
Could it have been for our protection? Or their’s? Either
way, it simply added to the distrust and anger that grew
inside her.
“Karn, I—”
“I just don’t want to draw attention to us.”
“Very well.”
“Excuse me, kind sir, madam,” the innkeeper
interrupted as he approached. “May I sit?”
Karn motioned to the empty chair at the table, which
the innkeeper promptly took a seat in.
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“My name is Redhu, Rali Redhu. I just wanted to say
that it’s nice to see milady up and looking much healthier
than when she arrived last night.”
Opal smiled and nodded.
“What do you want, innkeeper?” Karn asked.
“Well, as a matter of fact, I came to warn milady,”
Rali said, dropping his voice to a whisper.
Opal saw Karn’s muscles tighten. She prayed this
conversation did not take a bad turn.
Karn grumbled. “Watch your mouth, innkeeper.”
“Your quarrel is not with me, traveler.” The
cadaverous innkeeper motioned with his hand to the two
elves who sat behind him at the bar. “Your problem is with
them.”
Opal and Karn looked past their host, across the busy
tavern to the pair of elves. Clearly warriors, the two were
heavily armed, and wore scale mail chest plates, shields
strapped to their backs, and long swords at their belts.
“They came in late last night and have been sitting
like a pair of statues at my bar ever since.”
“Hunters?” Opal gasped as the realization settled in.
“Who are they, Opal?” Karn asked.
“Mage hunters,” Rali answered softly.
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“How?” Opal choked out a single word, her memory
flashing to the man she killed with a rock, outside her
cabin.
The innkeeper leaned closer to Opal and Karn, who
followed suit. He whispered to them again, and while he
spoke, he reached for Opal’s arm. “I saw your mark last
night.”
Opal pushed back from the innkeeper, her chair
grinding across the stone floor hard and making a shrill
screeching sound. Both of the elves turned and looked
directly at her, but only for a moment—just long enough to
make uncomfortable eye contact.
“On your right arm, I saw the mark,” Rali said, as he
tapped his own arm to show where he had seen Opal’s tattoo.
“What do you want with me?” Opal asked in a tight
voice.
“She’s not what you think.” Karn’s voice was a deep,
stern growl.
“The mages have not made their presence known here in
New Maejika since the clash. Now, I must know… why have
they sent an emissary?”
“Clash? They never told me about a clash,” Opal said
without thinking.
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Karn’s eyes burned a hole straight through her. She
instantly knew her impetuous comment was a mistake.
Especially when the innkeeper sat back with an air of
satisfaction.
“One would think a young mage like you would know her
own history, particularly the events of the clash, only
thirty summers ago,” he said.
Opal shook her head. You’re trapped, Opal. Attack—
create a diversion long enough to escape. This might be
your last chance; the only choice. Nevertheless, her
curiosity stalemated her fear and she could not move, not
yet.
“We’re just traveling through your town, so please let
us be. We don’t want trouble,” Karn said.
“No doubt on your way to Spire Anguish?” the man
asked, excitement in his voice.
“Spire Anguish?” Karn and Opal said in unison.
“Oh my,” said Rali, as he slumped back in his seat,
clearly perplexed. “Can it be possible that you know
nothing of both the clash and the tower?”
Opal shook her head again, not wanting to speak.
“If you have come to New Maejika by accident, I would
thank the fates, my young friends,” Rali said, and then
stood. “We have a saying here: boredom is easily conquered
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by reading a good book.” He looked meaningfully at them,
each in turn. “Sadly so few who live here can read.”
“Thank you,” Opal said, breathless, hoping the man
would leave.
“We best go.”
“Agreed.”
Karn took Opal’s hand and wasted no time escorting her
out of the busy tavern. In order to think, she was going to
need a break from the noise, commotion, and especially Rali
Redhu, the odd innkeeper.
***
Once outside, they stopped dead in their tracks. The
town overflowed with life. The loud drumming of hammers
rang in their ears as men rushed about, carrying supplies
to the stores currently under construction. The chime of
weapons pierced the air as young men practiced their
swordplay and young women giggled, while they watched their
champions from a safe distance.
Karn drew a deep breath. The cool fall air was
revitalizing and calmed his nerves slightly. Opal, on the
other hand, sighed. She was staring at the dying tree in
the middle of the town. He led her toward it, down the same
path they followed last night.
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“Opal, what’s—” Karn began but something collided with
his leg.
“Sorry, mister,” squeaked a little voice from below.
By the time Karn looked down, the child who had
crashed into him had already picked himself up and run off.
“Be more careful where you run.”
When Karn looked up, he saw Opal had left his side and
moved closer to the giant elm tree. As he watched her, Karn
began to feel oddly nostalgic. What is this heaviness in my
heart? Karn wondered. He thought of Weiden’s Rise and his
family. Such loss. Why am I here? I should be elsewhere.
Time seemed to slow as the two elves from the bar
strolled across his path, between him and Opal. An older
human soldier accompanied them now. The timing, the
placement—it all struck Karn as odd.
Elven mage hunters, he thought. I’ve never heard of
elves hunting mages. Elves hunt deer, rabbits, and wolves,
but mages? Why would they? He took a long look at the
elves, focusing less on their weapons and armor and more on
their features and gestures. The two elves had their faces
marked red and black with war paint—it made them look even
more dangerous. They look alert-at the ready.
Karn swiftly moved closer toward Opal.
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“It was once a mighty elm standing proud watch over
this town,” an elder woman was telling Opal as he
approached. “The children played under its shade,” she said
in a quavering voice.
“I’m sure they did.”
The old woman’s head was shaved and hundreds of deep
wrinkles etched lines of pain in her face. “Many a first
kiss was shared under this tree. Now it dies. No one knows
why.”
“Such a shame.” Opal stepped closer to the tree.
“Time takes its toll, young one.” The old woman’s head
bobbed as she spoke.
Opal smiled in response, but then her face began to
slowly scrunch up.
“I sense something foreign,” said Opal as her nose
twitched. “A blight. There’s a blight poisoning this tree.
I can feel it.”
“Don’t be silly, girl. All things must die eventually.
Perhaps you are too young to understand.”
When Opal patted the tree’s trunk, Karn saw her eyes
emit a fiery glow.
“Opal, don’t!” Karn shouted.
The old woman cried out in alarm. Opal’s entire body
flashed with a red aura that grew brighter and brighter.
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Karn froze in panic. This is not happening, he thought as
he watched nearly everyone in the area turn to Opal’s spell
casting.
Karn scanned his surroundings for the elves. They had
passed Opal by. They’re circling around, he realized.
They’re watching. Everyone’s watching.
“Opal…” Karn began, but just then the tree moved.
The elm tree’s limbs shook for an instant then
stretched up rapidly to the sun. The old and dying bark
peeled from the tree’s trunk to reveal thick new skin
below. A cool breeze whipped through the town, and the new
healthy branches rattled, yet not a single leaf fell.
Karn listened to the growing crowd murmur in wonder.
This situation was getting dangerous.
Karn hooked his hand around her arm, and quickly
pushed her past the stunned onlookers.
“I told you no—” he began.
“Stand down, mage!”
As they turned slowly toward the speaker, Karn watched
the bystanders fall back, away from the impending danger.
Not ten feet away, the two elven warriors stood, bows
raised, aimed at Opal’s chest.
“Stay back. I’ll handle this,” Karn whispered.
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Opal seemed not to hear him. She moved her hands and
fingers as though she were controlling a puppet—and perhaps
she was because the elm matched her motions, and when she
sliced her hand through the air, the tree lashed out at the
elves with one of its thick branches.
Now’s my chance. Karn leapt forward and grabbed the
sword of the closest elf while he was off balance. The
whistle of an arrow zipped by Karn’s ear and into the crowd
behind him; he heard it strike meat.
“Die!”
Karn charged the elf that shot the arrow, wildly
swinging the sword. When the blade struck the archer’s
longbow, the bow shattered, but before Karn could swing
again, the second elf grabbed him from behind and threw him
to the ground. Weapons drawn, the two elven warriors waited
for Karn to stand.
“Get up, mage lover!” one of the elves snarled.
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Chapter 24
Slice
Opal watched Karn from behind the tree. He’s hurt. She
moved around the tree for a better look, and the blade of a
polearm sliced across her belly. The pain intense, Opal
doubled over and let out a childlike cry, running her hand
across the bleeding wound. As far as she could tell, it had
only ripped her clothes and scored her skin lightly. So why
does it burn me to the core? When the pain spiked, her
knees buckled.
“This is just a taste of the agony I will deliver to
you and your whole kind, mage!” her tall, middle-aged
attacker stated.
“It burns!” Opal cried as she looked up into her
assailant’s face. Through the pain, she dimly realized that
he looked familiar.
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“Healer Opal?” the man asked in astonishment.
“Make… it… stop!” Opal moaned. Who is this man? She
could not think through the pain.
“By the fallen King of Weiden’s Rise, it is you!”
Only several feet away, on the other side of the tree,
Opal spied one of the elves cautiously approaching Karn to
check his condition. When he was close enough to touch him,
Karn whipped around, square to his attacker, and used his
hand to chop up between the elf’s legs. The elven mage
hunter howled in pain as he fell backward, his manhood
protected by his hands. The cry prompted the lean man
standing over Opal to act.
“Cease your attack!” he shouted to the second elf, who
was aiming an arrow at Karn. “Cease your attack! They’re
not, I repeat, not our enemies!”
“Not our enemies? She’s a mage! And this fool protects
her!” the elf yelled as he drew back his bow string.
“She’s a healer, not one of our targets,” the lean man
said as he looked down at her. “I know her.”
“Help me… please…” Opal moaned loudly. <Karn, I need
you.>
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Chapter 25
Acquaintances
Karn had restrained his impulse to attack the elves
and shifted his attention to the man giving the orders. The
echo of his own breaths pounded like drums in his head.
Opal’s voice broke through his rage. When he saw Opal,
subdued at his enemy’s feet, his eyes focused narrowly on
her. She rocked back and forth on her knees, wincing in
pain and clutching her stomach.
“You bastard!” Karn yelled. “I’ll rip you apart!”
Karn sprinted toward Opal’s polearm-wielding attacker,
the long sword he had appropriated raised high over his
head. Just as Karn drew close enough to strike, the blurry
symbols on his opponent’s battle-worn armor became clear:
green and white. The markings of Weiden’s Rise’s elite.
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Karn managed to slow himself and shift his strike, but
he was still moving too quickly to avoid slamming into the
man. The force of the collision knocked Karn’s opponent to
the ground.
As he huffed in air like a wild animal, Karn
positioned himself between the older man and Opal. A flash
of colorful light made him glance away from his target and
down toward Opal. She’s okay. Her hands glow red; she’s
healing. Ensnared by the sight, Karn watched as the
lacerations on Opal’s belly magically sealed themselves.
“Please lower your weapons, everyone,” the man begged
as he lifted himself gingerly from the ground.
“S-Sadok? Sadok of Weiden’s Rise?” Opal called out to
her attacker.
“You do recognize me,” Sadok cheered.
“Karn, you can relax. This man is an ally.” Opal
clutched her stomach and slowly regained her feet.
Karn grumbled. “An ally? I find that hard to believe.”
He relaxed himself only slightly as he peered at the elves.
“He’s an officer in Weiden’s Rise’s army,” Opal
explained, placing her hand on Karn’s arm and looking him
deep in the eyes. “We’re safe now.”
Karn looked away. “Know this: If you cross us again, I
will disembowel you where you stand.”
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“Yes, yes, yes,” Sadok said, as he nodded wearily. He
looked around at the crowd. “We’d best go someplace less
public. There’s obviously much to discuss.”
Sadok led the group toward a small building across
from Rali’s establishment and strolled through the pub’s
double doors as if the fight outside had not even occurred.
He yelled to a barmaid for a round of ale with a
familiarity that made it seem like he did this every day.
Once they were all seated, Karn turned his attention
to Opal and placed his hand on her stomach where her dress
was cut.
“Are you hurt?” he asked tenderly.
“I’m fine,” she answered. “Even though the burning
sensation has yet to completely leave my belly…”
Sadok propped his polearm against the chair beside
him, and Karn shifted his attention back to the man. “Who
are you?” he asked impatiently.
“Sadok, last of Weiden’s Rise elite guard,” he
answered as he pointed to the sigils on his armor. “Who
might you be?”
“Captain of the Weiden’s Rise first cavalry division.”
Karn leaned forward in his seat to speak. “How the hell do
you know him, Opal?”
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“Ages ago, I used my magic to heal a grievous leg
wound Sadok suffered. He was one of my first patients when
I was Weiden’s Rise’s apprentice healer,” Opal explained.
“Then some months later, you used your magic to save
my son,” Sadok further clarified as he ran a hand through
his short, spiky hair.
Opal smiled. “I remember,” she said. “It was
wonderful, being able to cure your son’s disease.”
“An honorable accomplishment,” he agreed.
As they chatted, the serving wench brought the ale and
placed a mug before each person at the table before hastily
scurrying off.
“Why did you attack us?” Karn asked, uncomfortable
with listening to the two reminisce. “How does an officer
in the Weiden’s Rise army end up here?”
“I was on assignment guarding diplomats in Kel Tora,”
Sadok said after a pull of ale. “Three months ago the Duke
of Kel Tora invited my family to visit and tour his castle.
While traveling home, we had just crossed the border from
Kel Tora to Maulen… we were ambushed by marauding lizard
men. I was wounded and woke up days later in an elven
village just south of the Bay of Illyia.”
“What happened to your family?”
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“Killed by the lizard men,” Sadok said emotionlessly,
his soldier’s resolve intact.
Opal gasped.
“My condolences,” Karn murmured.
Sadok nodded once, shortly. “While I recovered from my
wounds, news reached the elven village that Weiden’s Rise
had fallen. I saw no reason why I should return home.
Nothing remains there for me but memories. The elves saved
me, so in turn I have joined their cause,” he finished
calmly.
“Hunting mages?” Opal blurted, shocked.
One of the eleves, whose attention had wandered during
the conversation, now leaned forward. “Townsfolk gathering
outside,” he whispered to Sadok.
Sadok cursed. “They witnessed you use your magic,
Opal. The word’s already spread.”
“I was only—”
“Opal, say no more!” Karn hissed as he seized her arm
in a firm grip. “Silence.”
“There’s an assembly of mages living in the northern
mountains, beings of pure evil. They must be destroyed,”
Sadok said.
“Oh, that we know. In fact, we just came from there,”
Karn replied.
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The information clearly took Sadok by surprise. “What?
Tell me you are not in league with those evil men, Opal.”
Opal held silent.
“Just a night ago, she defeated one,” Karn said.
Sadok leaned over the table until his face was only
inches from both Karn and Opal. “You say that not only have
you been to their home, but you actually fought one of
them?”
“Ye-es,” Opal answered.
Sadok stood up, raising his arms in victory. “Bless us
all!” Dropping back down into his seat, he smiled. “Is that
what you are doing here? Have I found an ally in you?”
“I’m afraid our goals are different,” Opal said. “Karn
and I are seeking aid in the battle against the invading
warlord.”
Silence took over the table a moment. Sadok looked
stern. With a quick motion, he snatched up his mug of ale,
drank down the dregs, and then slammed it on the table.
Once more, Sadok stood abruptly, and then bowed to Opal
before saying, “Good luck, my friends.”
“What? Wait. Why are you leaving?” Karn asked.
“I have pressing responsibilities and I must take the
information you have given me straight to my colleagues,”
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Sadok said over his shoulder as he pushed through the crowd
to the bar, where he dropped several pieces of gold.
After hesitating a moment, Sadok crossed the crowded
room back to the table. He bent low and whispered to them
both. “The elves and I have set up camp at Spire Anguish. I
suggest you visit it sometime soon. It holds the key to
this region, especially when in need of unlocking clues
that involve both the mages and this invading warlord.”
“Clues? What kind of clues?” Opal asked.
Sadok turned and walked toward the exit accompanied by
the surly elves. “See for yourself when you come, Opal.”
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Chapter 26
Crowds
Karn took Opal’s hand and helped her up from her
chair. She wanted desperately to leave, but the crowd of
townsfolk had become so thick that it appeared impossible
to push through it.
“The crowd deepens,” Karn observed.
“I’m scared.”
“I’ll get you out of here.”
Karn led Opal toward the door, but as soon as they
stepped away from their table, the curious people of New
Maejika swarmed around her. All at once, a volley of
questions and demands emerged from the crowd.
“Do a spell!”
“Make me young again!”
“Please, heal my child!”
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“Make me wealthy!”
“Show us your powers!”
As Opal demurred, the crowd’s mood quickly changed.
People pushed and shoved each other in their attempts to
move closer to her. The jostling of shoulders against
shoulders created a swaying motion akin to a ship rocking
atop restless waves. When Opal felt a hand latch on to her
arm, she reacted without thought. Thick, green translucent
magical energy emerged from her fingertips, enveloping her
hands. She looked up at Karn; she knew full well that if
she did not do something, events would rapidly turn bad.
“Divide!” she screamed over their voices.
In the time it took her to say the word, the grassgreen energy that surrounded her hands leaped out past
Karn’s shoulders. With an outward wave of her arms similar
to a swimmer’s breaststroke, the green walls of magical
energy forcefully parted the crowd.
Amongst the crowd’s expressions of shock and surprise,
Opal heard Karn grumble with anger. He grabbed her, pulling
her through the townspeople toward the door. After they
exited, Opal looked back at the mob. She had never imagined
such a response to her magic. The townsfolk’s’ eager eyes
on her made her uncomfortable, she felt violated.
“That was not necessary. I was ready to—” Karn began.
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“Ready to what? Fight each and every one of them?”
Opal finished, annoyed. “How would that have been any
better?”
“I hate crowds,” Karn stated bluntly as they hurried
across the empty town square.
“Find us supplies,” Opal sternly said. “I need to go
back to our room.”
“Not alone you’re not,” he declared with a shake of
his head.
“I’ll be fine,” Opal said, gazing deep in his eyes.
“Very well.” Karn sounded dubious but turned away.
Opal waited until Karn had completely disappeared into
a mass of people before she made her move. Many eyes
hungrily watched her every motion. There was no way to get
back to the inn without being surrounded by strangers.
She hurried toward a group of grain silos and ducked
quickly behind them. No sooner was she completely out of
sight of the villagers than Opal went to work casting a
minor spell. It was one she had used only once before, when
she’d read it from one of Dusk’s stolen spell books.
Nevertheless, she had to try it again now.
She pointed her fingers to the ground and a dull
orange energy pierced the dirt at her heels like burrowing
earthworms. Abruptly, the orange aura shot back up to the
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top of her head, and washed her in its blinding blaze like
fire gliding across oil. Opal blinked and then looked down
at herself, finding only empty air. Her arms, legs, body—
all was gone. I’m invisible. Opal thanked the gods and ran
off to the inn.
***
On the second floor of the inn, Opal witnessed her
arms and legs suddenly wink back into view as the spell
came to an abrupt end. Her torso, however, remained unseen.
As she approached the door to their room, she prayed no one
could see her in this strange state. Disembodied arms and
legs floating down a hallway would be cause for alarm, even
for the more intoxicated patrons. When she crossed the
threshold into her room, she drew a deep breath and
released it with a long sigh. I made it. I’m safe. But why
is my magic faltering? Why now?
In the quiet room, Opal thought back on her basics of
magic. Long ago, she was taught that, with her magic being
rooted in nature, part of all that surrounded, even
herself, she could channel her power with just a simple
thought. For the most part that was correct, but she hated
to admit that, unlike her masters, she was not in total
control of her abilities. Mistakes were sometimes made and
those often produced an unfortunate and unwanted aftermath.
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Since my powers manifested, I’ve seen many side
effects of magic: gusts of wind, an occasional downpour of
rain… even a flash of lightning. All acts of nature.
Opal paced the room. My power has always been strong,
dependable, unwavering… until lately. What has changed?
Opal magically ignited a candle, blew it out, and
ignited it again.
I’ve never fought my power. Not like Elisabeth has.
No, I’m happy to have it and I’m glad its source is nature.
What a dreadful thing, having to carry around a staff or
amulet, like so many of the other mages who require
talismans to channel their powers. Is that my fate? Am I
going to need to store power in some old wooden staff
before I use it?
Clearing her mind, Opal fixed her eyes on one of the
books on the bookshelf: The People’s History of New
Maejika. She snatched the book by its spine and quickly
scanned it for some sort of clue to what Sadok had
mentioned. There’s just too much information, too many
eyewitness reports of fantastic events. Most had probably
been falsified. She realized she would need to read the
book to find any answers. Curse this town.
A few hours later, Opal was stunned by the information
she was uncovering.
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The history of New Maejika had touched the lives of
every man, woman, and child living there. Not a single
person remained unaffected. Many of the citizens of New
Maejika imagined a time would come when a mage would once
again set foot on their soil, yet their feelings were
mixed. Some welcomed the possibilities, while others feared
what that day might bring.
The People’s History of New Maejika described a time
just over thirty summers ago that challenged everything she
had learned from the High Council. This new information was
yet another indication that the High Council was not who
they claimed to be.
The mountains erupted and glowed red like the setting
sun on the day the mages’ house divided. Eight mages came
down from the mountains to walk in the valley below. The
sun rose the following morning upon a new construction, a
white marble tower, stretching high up to the stars…
She frowned. Eight mages? Were any of them the
archmages of the High Council? Opal read on until she
reached a passage that spoke of a local warlord the
“upstart” mages had recruited.
His name was well known by the townsfolk who suffered
from his continuous raids and murders: Naraboo.
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The text stated that the warlord Naraboo disappeared
from the region only to reappear several weeks later,
changed in many ways. Severe burns covered one side of the
warlord’s body, yet his life force was strong. His soldiers
rushed him to a healer in New Maejika. The healer, who was
a traditional herbalist, did what he could to heal
Naraboo’s burns, but he remained scarred.
Opal lost her grip on the book, which seemed to fall
to the ground in slow motion. Her stomach churned, and she
vomited out the nearby window. She wiped her mouth with the
back of her hand and knelt to retrieve the book.
“Naraboo is Mustaffa.” Opal had to say the words aloud
to believe them herself.
The events she read inside the dusty book were
terrifyingly familiar. To Opal, it sounded as if the
upstart mages were using Mustaffa as a pawn against the
other mages in the mountains. If that’s true, then Mustaffa
might be heading directly to the High Council for revenge.
Opal tried to rationalize what she had read. She
wanted to believe that the archmages had not told her this
because it was false, or perhaps they wanted to spare her
the extra anxiety during her task.
Too afraid to confront the council directly, she
decided her best interests lay in searching of more clues
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at Spire Anguish. If these stories of Naraboo were true,
she knew there would be valuable information inside the
tower, and there was no way she would return to the council
before getting it.
The sound of the door opening startled her. She had
not expected Karn to return so soon.
“I found supplies,” he announced.
“I see.”
Karn placed a leather backpack and a cloth sack on the
floor as he entered. Opal heard the sound of metal against
metal as they settled upon the stone. She watched him
closely. He seems to be content and calm enough—that will
change if the information in these books is accurate, she
thought.
“Opal, I need to tell you something important,” Karn
said, taking her hand in his.
“What is it?” Opal returned his sincere look with a
puzzled one.
“Tomorrow, I leave for Spire Anguish,” he announced.
“I need you to stay here, locked in this room where it’s
safe, until I return.”
Opal was shocked by the irony. She had intended to
tell Karn the same thing, that she was going to the tower
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tomorrow; she could not help but wonder what prompted him
to come to the same conclusion.
“My primary objective is to seek an alliance with
Sadok and his men. Perhaps Sadok will divulge a few of
those clues he hinted at too,” he said and then paused a
moment. “As I said before, I want you to stay here in New
Maejika.”
“Absolutely not.”
Karn stepped away from her and shouted. “It’s too
dangerous!”
“I can protect myself!” Opal snapped.
She watched Karn try to settle his nerves, taking
three loud, deep breaths before speaking again. “Please
listen to me. It’s for the best.”
“You would rather leave me here? In this insane town?
Alone?” She deliberately played on his concern for her. “I
want to help you.”
He scowled. “My decision is final.” Karn stood his
ground with a solemn look Opal had only seen when he
fought. “You should rest. You look a bit… unwell.”
She watched as he crossed the room to the window and
gazed out it. A large group of townsfolk were moving toward
the large elm tree in the center of town. When she stepped
closer to get a better look, Karn closed the shutters. Does
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he mean to keep the outside from me, or me from the
outside?
“Please rest, Opal, okay?” he begged.
Karn shifted his eyes to the floor and sat with his
back against the wall.
I should rest. I should rest, because I’ll be going to
that tower tomorrow.
Opal crawled into bed and curled up like a cat,
finally allowing the day’s stress to best her. I do feel a
little ill, but more mentally than physically. Drifting to
sleep, she saw flashes of memories of her time with the
High Council. Moments both good and bad.
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Chapter 27
Max
The room was quiet, filled with a stillness that only
occurs during that brief time between late night and early
morning, when both nocturnal and diurnal creatures are at
rest.
It was during that tranquility that the door to Karn
and Opal’s room flew open suddenly. The unexpected crash
startled them awake, Opal’s nails sinking into Karn’s bare
back.
Karn’s warrior senses snapped him instantly alert, but
Opal appeared to be caught in a moment of mind-numbing
shock. Framed by the luminosity of the hallway was a young
man adorned in flashy red and gold robes. As he stood
there, his clothing flickered by the light of the hallway
torches.
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“Opal, you dim-witted bitch! You dare to steal my
mentor’s powers and for that, and many more mistakes, you
will die tonight!” the man declared.
Opal sat up, wrapped the bed sheet around her, and
jumped out of bed. “You fool. You have no idea what’s
really happening!”
Karn rolled out of bed and snatched his sword from the
floor.
“No weapons, Rook!” the mage said.
When the young mage pointed at Karn’s sword, a thick
green pulse of light knocked the weapon out of his hand to
the opposite side of the room.
“Who are you?”
“Who am I, you ask? I am Maximilian Lance, the newest
Archmage of the High Council,” he said, his eyes fixed
tightly on Opal.
“Archmage?” Opal scoffed as she stepped from the bed.
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s simple, Opal. First, I sap your powers and kill
you. Then I return to the council and have them raise my
rank,” Maximilian explained.
“You’ll be killing no one!” Karn launched himself at
Maximilian.
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“Karn, you have to get out of here!” Opal summoned a
portal to Karn’s side as she leapt toward him.
She intercepted Karn and redirected him with a shove
into the swirling energy of the small portal. Off balance,
Karn could not help but stumble into the blinding purple
light.
As he blinked, the world became his new location, but
there was an instant when he was able to cast his eyes on
Opal—just long enough to see her turn toward her challenger
with the same look in her eyes that she had had when she
fought Malek.
“Opal!”
He shut his eyes against an intense flash of light,
and when he reopened them, they focused on a patch of tall
grass next to a crossroads, at the edge of a large empty
field.
“No!” he howled as the portal closed. “This cannot be
happening!”
Karn cursed for several moments before he looked
around at the field of tall grass for some hint of his
location, spying a group of wooden signs beside the dirt
road.
WHOOSH.
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Without warning, the vortex returned. It opened up
like a pair of large purple lips and spit out his clothing,
armor, weapons, and supplies before it slammed shut again.
He swore he could hear Opal’s voice through the crackling
sounds the portal made. If she had time to send me my gear,
he thought, then she must be safe.
Karn knew Opal could take care of herself. You’re
powerful; it’s your naiveté that worries me most. I pray
you know what you are doing, Opal.
After he dressed and armored himself in the chainmail
he had traded for the day before, Karn made for the signs.
The sun shone across the fields so strongly it forced
him to squint. Karn guessed that when Opal transported him
away from the danger she had placed him on the path to
Spire Anguish, but when he stepped up to the old wooden
signs, he realized just how wrong that assumption was. The
signs were labeled in four directions: north to New
Maejika, east to the Tri-Towns, west to the Village of
Binopp, and south to Kel Tora.
He tried to visualize the distance from where he was
back to New Maejika or forward to Kel Tora, yet both
locations felt leagues away.
If only I had my horse.
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Chapter 28
Enlightenment
Overnight, New Maejika’s Inn had become the most
popular site in town. The small bar overflowed with
customers—all there with hopes of encountering the
enchantress who had hidden herself away upstairs.
Anticipation had combined with thirst. Soon moods dipped
and a stale air of edginess overcame the citizens of New
Maejika. By early morning, the tavern had become a
dangerously unstable place.
The innkeeper doubled his security to help keep order,
and with the exception of a fight between two drunken men,
things had not erupted. Most of the townsfolk hovered
around the bar a few hours before stumbling out the door
minus some coins. But it was the few more curious
individuals who drank slowly, and gossiped with their
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neighbors until the morning that worried the innkeeper
most.
Shortly after sunrise, a loud crash came from
upstairs. The noise got everyone’s attention and the bar
grew suddenly quiet.
It was not long until a woman’s screams echoed down
the stairs—bouncing like a child’s toy.
“Was that her? Was that the woman mage?” a man yelled,
as he pointed toward where the sound came from.
“It must be,” another man answered, as he backed away
from the bar.
“Be quiet!” hissed the innkeeper, Rali Redhu.
“Listen!”
The wind outside gusted, rattling the shutters.
Startled by the racket, many of the patrons looked toward
the windows, but those unable to peel their gazes off the
ceiling, witnessed a flash of violet light that seeped
through the cracks.
“What’s happening, Rali?” an older male patron asked
as he looked around.
“I don’t know, Andre.”
Suddenly, a loud rumble of thunder shook the inn,
followed by a sound no one would ever forget. It began as a
low continuous moan and escalated within moments into a
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horrific howl. A cluster of popping sounds followed, but
ended abruptly with a disgustingly wet noise.
“That sounded like… like—” Rali began.
“Like a rock dropped into a deep puddle of mud.”
“Not a rock, Rali, a boulder.”
“By the gods, what was that?” a scared patron
screamed. “What caused that?”
“I’m getting out of here,” someone else announced as
he ran toward the door.
“What do we do?” one of the barmaids asked Rali, who
could only shrug.
“Was that her?” Another patron pointed to the ceiling.
“That sound?”
“She’s going to kill all of us!”
The innkeeper walked to the stairs and peered up
cautiously.
“Be quiet!” Rali demanded. “Quiet!”
Most of the remaining patrons ran outside in a panic,
but a few of the bravest—or most foolhardy—stayed behind,
gripped as much by fear as curiosity. Once Rali settled the
crowd, he called to the upstairs.
“Miss, are you well?”
Time passed slowly before a woman’s voice replied,
“I’m fine. I’ll be down shortly.”
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Rali jumped back from the stairs, as if frightened.
His overreaction prompted two of the remaining customers to
scurry out the door before anything else could transpire.
“I’m truly sorry about the mess I caused,” Opal called
out before she stepped into view. “Perhaps this will help.”
At her feet, masked by shadows, was an object the innkeeper
could not discern. Opal pushed the thing into view with her
foot and then kicked it down the stairs. The innkeeper’s
stomach heaved as he realized the object was a partially
dismembered corpse.
The head, which was still connected to a small chunk
of neck and shoulder, tumbled down the stairs slowly,
splashes of blood left behind. When the head finally
thumped on the bottom step, it flashed an odd golden hue
before it broke into a thousand pieces. Chimes rang out as
the pieces rolled across the floor like a wave of water,
eventually making contact with the wall and Rali Redhu’s
feet. He looked down in horrified fascination, fully
expecting to see tiny bits of flesh and bone. To his
astonishment, there were only perfect shiny, gold coins.
“This cannot be,” the innkeeper mumbled to himself.
“Gold!” a woman screamed.
While some of the last few remaining customers ran
away from Opal’s display of power, others dove to the
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ground, and shoved as many coins as they could into their
pockets.
As Opal descended the stairs into the bar, she ran her
hands through her long red hair, then smoothed and
straightened her dress. “Will this be enough coin to cover
cleaning and repairs?”
Rali stood with his mouth agape, mesmerized.
“Rali?” she called out.
“Repairs? I should think so.” His voice shook.
“What happened up there?” one of the more courageous
male patrons called from behind a turned over table.
She did not reply. She only smiled as she crossed the
room. With her finger pointed at the open door, magical
energy from the spell she was casting shot out with a flash
that startled everyone. The purple beam of light crackled
as it held upon the door and formed a swirling vortex just
outside.
“What is that?” a woman whispered.
“Show us more,” a drunkard shouted. “Show us more.”
Opal exited the inn without hesitation and once
outside, she stepped through the portal and vanished.
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Chapter 29
Visions
The portal transported her to a dew-covered grassy
plain just over the hill from the mysterious Spire Anguish.
Opal was thrilled with her luck, she had transported
herself here nearly blind, having only studied some crude
maps she found in the books in her room.
“Nothing can stop me.” She drew in a breath of fresh
air; she felt incredible.
Opal briefly imagined ruling New Maejika; she could
become Illyia’s first mage queen. The people would worship
her, and all she would have to do is what came naturally to
her: use her magic.
Her daydream faded quickly when she thought of
Maximilian. Surely Max was acting alone. He must’ve
attacked me because he actually believed the ruse intended
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for Karn. He must have thought that I had rebelled against
the High Council. Opal wondered, if he was so easily
fooled, who else might consider me an enemy of the council
now?
As much as that thought worried her, it was the other
possibility that chilled her to the core. Could the
archmages have tricked Maximilian into believing I was
their foe? Opal did not know what to think. She knew one
thing for sure: the lies were getting more complicated by
the day, so much so it was hard to discern the truth.
This is why I’m here. Opal’s mind was set, more
answers awaited at her fingertips, all she had to do was go
to investigate the tower.
At first, Opal could only stare at the white tower in
amazement as it sparkled in the light of the rising sun.
She had never seen a structure so large in her life. It
seemed like it could pierce the heavens with its needlelike
peak. She thought of the histories she had read. The tower
had apparently been constructed overnight. This structure
was not built by the hands of masons; it was created by
potent magic. Very potent magic.
Opal jogged toward the massive structure, anxiously
pondering what secrets might be stored inside. As she drew
closer, she felt powerful waves of magical energy emanating
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from it. The closer she got to it, the stronger the energy,
making it harder and harder for her to concentrate. As she
looked around, she noticed that even the flora seemed
affected by the magical resonance, growing higher and
stronger closer to the white stone. Sunflowers that would
normally grow to a height of four or five feet during the
summer stood double that height now. Opal was so distracted
by the sight that she hardly acknowledged the elves who
exited the tower’s gates to intercept her.
“Halt,” a lithe elven man yelled as he dashed toward
her. “How did you arrive here?”
“You heard him, answer now!” another elf yelled as he
pointed his drawn sword.
The sight of the irate mage hunters frightened the
words from her mouth. She tried to answer, but the one
elf’s screams frightened her.
“Answer!”
“Is she the one responsible for that glow on the
horizon?” a third elf called out as he passed the gate.
“I—” Opal started.
“Answer now!” The screaming elf raised his weapon to
her throat.
The last elf to approach her kept silent, as he
circled her.
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“She’s mage filth,” he stated.
“Time to die, mage!”
Opal dove into the tall grass, and disappeared into
the dense tangle. Despite her efforts to crawl away, the
three elves caught her quickly. Overwhelmed and unwilling
to use her magic just yet, Opal gave in and allowed them to
restrain her.
“Rider coming!” another elf announced from one of the
higher reaches of Spire Anguish. “It’s Sadok!”
Sadok’s horse galloped at high speed toward Spire
Anguish. As he closed the distance, the elves and Opal
could hear what he was repeatedly yelling: “Joa’Ta is under
siege!”
“No…” one of the elves breathed.
“Sadok!” Opal called. “Tell them to let me go!”
Sadok dismounted his horse a few feet from the group.
Covered in the dirt of hard travel, he brushed off his
chest and legs, creating small clouds of dust. The look on
his face was a mixture of disapproval and distress. Opal
was not sure if his next words would be a command for the
mage hunters to execute her or to release her.
“Let her go,” Sadok finally said. “A warning, Lady
Opal: for now I will trust you, but if you give me any
reason to question that trust, I will slay you myself.”
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“What?”
“You should never have left the service of our king,
Opal. Perhaps you’ll explain to me someday where you went
after you disappeared.”
“I—”
“Let’s not mince words at the moment. Joa’Ta’s under
siege and will most likely fall,” Sadok interrupted.
“How long?” one of the elves behind Opal asked as he
sheathed his sword.
“I’m not sure.”
“So what I read is true. Mustaffa and the Warlord
Naraboo are one and the same,” Opal blurted out.
“Indeed,” Sadok replied looking over her shoulder. He
paused to run his hand through his short hair, freeing the
dirt that had settled there during his ride. “Tell me… why
did you come here, Opal?”
“You said there were answers here. I came to find
them,” Opal replied, her gaze on the tower.
“Then by all means, enter.”
Opal followed Sadok, all while being surrounded at by
half a dozen mage hunters. As the group walked to the main
gate, Opal wondered if she should have not come to the
tower alone—or at all. But I must know what’s inside. Once
again her curiosity and impatience jeopardized her safety.
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When she crossed the bridge into the tower, any
negative thoughts about visiting Spire Anguish were wiped
away.
Amazed by how the inside of the tower glimmered, Opal
wondered how it was lit. It was so bright that the elves
who walked in front of her had to shade their eyes when
they entered. It’s like another sun exists within this
structure. How can that be?
A symbol had been painted prevalently on the floor of
the entranceway. Initially it seemed to be the symbol of
the High Council—interlocking circles in the form of a
pyramid—yet when Opal’s eyes stayed on it, its true shape
revealed itself. This symbol was of three C’s, each
interlocking through the back arch in a pyramid. It was as
if the designer took the High Council’s emblem and broke it
open on the side of each circle.
“Astounding, is it not?”
Intrigued by the symbol and enthralled by the same
energy she had felt from outside, Sadok’s words were lost
on Opal. As she walked, her skin tingled; her best guess
was that her body had begun to store the magic given off by
the tower. But how? Why? What is this place?
Suddenly, the energizing shiver that traveled through
her body spiked with an irrepressible, burning tremor. Opal
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began to quake uncontrollably. She raised her hand to her
forehead, her eyes lost focus, and her vision dimmed.
Suddenly, her physical sensation melted away, and Opal
was left with just sight and sound. For the briefest
moment, she swore she could see herself falling backward to
the ground. How is this possible?
<You are one of them and yet you are not,> a voice
said in her mind like a distant echo.
When she opened her eyes, it was to total darkness; a
place devoid of sound and temperature. Opal did the only
thing she could think of; she answered.
<What’s happening to me?>
<A spell was cast by the combined powers of the
upstart mages,> the voice explained. <It was meant to
enlighten the dark members of the High Council. It is this
spell which has stripped your soul from your body and
delivered you here.>
<What? Where?>
<The past.>
The answers only brought up more questions.
<I came only to seek answers. I suspect the High
Council is betraying me. I need to know who they really are
and why they have kept the truth from me,> Opal explained.
<Open your eyes to the truth.>
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Opal blinked and was standing in a circle, hand-inhand with a large group of young mages she had never seen
before. When she looked around, she thought she must be in
a dream. A strange haziness touched everything she saw.
Then time seemed to speed up. Soon her surroundings were
little more than a blur and even though it all felt odd,
her senses told her it was real.
The circle of mages began to chant, and although Opal
did not know what they were summoning, the words of the
incantation spilled from her mouth in sync with everyone
else. The ground around her rumbled and began to shake
violently before splitting in half inside the circle. From
the hole in the earth emerged a great white needle of
coarse stone.
When the young mages intensified their chanting, Opal
could feel their energy, like her own, as it drained fast
from her body. She hung her head in exhaustion while the
enormous white stone grew straight toward the heavens with
such speed that it whistled as it cut through the air. The
circle of mages released hands and, in unison, stepping
back as the stone widened. With each breath Opal took, the
monolith grew taller, wider, and greater.
She could hear a middle-aged mage across from her
speaking, although he was hidden from view by the magical
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rock. He rallied the young mages for one last spell. Opal
felt the magic pulsate around her, and funnel through the
circle to the older man, who aimed it into the massive
white stone. Before her eyes, the stone took shape. Opal
gasped. The mile-high tower—I’m witness to its birth. This
is the spire.
In a blink, she found herself surrounded by the
blackness once more. Opal cringed when the voice called out
to her again; she wasn’t ready. This time, it directed her
to witness a second and much more deadly birth. She was in
the field outside the tower. Nearby stood the same young
mages she had seen moments ago. Reaching to one another,
they formed another circle.
She ran to and locked hands with the others, her eyes
settling on the center of the circle, where a man lay
sprawled out and seemingly unconscious. Time itself seemed
to stop as Opal realized the man before her was none other
than Mustaffa.
She wanted to flee, but her body would not answer her
mind’s desire. The middle-aged mage who had led the spell
at the tower began casting another spell. “A soul for a
soul. A man of the present becomes a man of the past. An
ancient warlord is reborn.”
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No. Those words were familiar to her. This isn’t
possible, she thought. Unable to look away from the
unconscious warlord, she watched his body begin to glow
with an unnatural black aura. As much as she wanted the
words that rang in her ears to be different, they were
exactly the ones spoken when the High Council enchanted
Karn with the powers he now possessed.
She felt her body weaken; she was barely able to hold
herself erect. One of the young mages fell forward to the
ground. Feeling faint, Opal watched the warlord suddenly
move. He stood swiftly and stared down at the fallen mage.
Good lord, no. Opal gagged, as the taste of bile filled her
throat. What have I done? Her surroundings faded to black.
Opal rubbed her eyes, anxious to wash away the vision
of Mustaffa’s transformation. Reality flickered, and she
found herself once again standing on Lightning Field, the
section of land at the base of the High Council’s home
where the archmages trained their pupils. Men shouted,
horses squealed—Mustaffa, now enhanced with the magical
energy of the Warlord’s Soul Spell, moved his army into
place. He had two of the archmages surrounded.
As Opal watched in terror, the embattled mages
unleashed their counter attack. Flames shot out in all
directions. The warlord’s men burned like twigs before the
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raging forest fire that was the combined magical might of
the two archmages. Those who survived had little choice
other than to beat a hasty retreat.
After another blink of time and space, Opal found
herself alone in the middle of a city. Is this New Maejika?
The town before half of its buildings were ruined? Screams
ricocheted through the town. Voices filled with panic and
fear buffeted her as she watched the men who had attacked
the mages flood the quiet town. Their weapons, armor, and
skin were charred from the mystic fires they had faced. As
the men passed her on their way into the center of town,
Opal spotted Mustaffa. No longer commanding his troops, he
lay among the injured atop a rickety old wagon. Opal moved
closer and grimaced at the severity of his wounds.
Mustaffa’s armor and clothes were ruined, charred so badly
that one side was simply melted away. The smell of burnt
flesh pervaded her nose and filled her lungs until she
coughed violently.
“No…”
A bizarre yet overwhelming sense of sadness crippled
Opal. The man she had feared more than any other lay before
her, moaning in pain from burns that covered nearly half
his body… and she wanted to save him.
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The sky above darkened, turning a deep shade of
violet. Opal recognized the signs of strong magic being
summoned. Lightning bolts showered from the sky, while
boulder-sized hail crashed down upon the buildings. Opal
took to her heels into the nearby forest, where, once under
the tree’s canopy, she turned to watch. The two archmages
who had been assaulted earlier had just arrived, obviously
in search of Mustaffa. They hope to finish what the warlord
started.
To her surprise, three of the young upstarts also
appeared through small portals. As they stepped forth, the
town became an unlikely battlefield.
Explosions rocked the place, throwing dirt and dust
into the stagnant air. Their colorful spells flashed across
the night sky until dawn when the battle was over and the
town of New Maejika was demolished.
Again, the landscape around her faded away, and the
timeless void returned. When she heard the mysterious
disembodied voice, she wanted to ask it a hundred
questions, but it spoke first.
<The three upstart mages sacrificed their lives so
they could steal away their warlord.>
<Why?>
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<He was created to be used as an instrument in the
High Council’s destruction.>
<Was it the upstarts who created his amulet?> Opal
asked.
<His time had come,> the voice said, not answering the
question directly. <He amassed an army unlike any ever
seen. Dark elves, giants, and lizard men alike joined his
cause. As he marched north, the High Council of Mages
formulated a plan that would forever change the shape of
Illyia. Now, see this final chapter of your past.>
A sudden burst of light painted itself into a familiar
setting. She stood on the balcony of the High Council’s
mountaintop fortress. Everyone was present. Opal marveled
at the sight of the archmages she grew up training with.
Their faces, younger and significantly less worn, amused
her: Justice, Dusk, Whistler, and Stinger—But where, she
wondered, is Limper?
But she forgot the question as the High Council mages
formed a circle. She knew they were about to cast a spell,
and the possibilities frightened her. Again, as in the
prior visions of the past, she joined the group, yet no one
was chanting yet. Breaking the circle was one, much older
mage. His appearance stole the breath from her lungs. He…
he can be only be one man—the Supreme Archmage. His robes
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were pitch-black, with symbols that seemed to blur in her
dreamy vision. Black magical energy swirled around him and
crackled loudly with each step. When he spoke, his voice
thundered. He’s so powerful. I never would have dreamed…
As he summoned the spell, magical energy drained from
the circle of Council members. The sensation instantly
sickened Opal. She could feel her skin drying as the
moisture was sucked out of it. Tiny hairline cracks drew
lines like lightning down her exposed arms. Through bleary
eyes, she witnessed the mages around the circle age
noticeably, as if time had sped up, a decade passing with
each breath. Opal watched in horror as the hair of one of
the older mages across from her blew off his head in thick
clumps, spreading into the sky on the wind. Spikes of
severe pain radiated in her wrists and hands, and became a
tearing sensation that drew her attention down to her
fingernails. They’re growing like a cat’s claws.
She looked at the man she thought was the Supreme
Archmage for some sort of clue as to what was happening.
“More,” the old mage yelled as the energy that he
siphoned from the group charged his body.
One by one, the mages from the High Council dropped
out of the circle, collapsing into dusty heaps. Opal
realized that she could die—then the spell ceased, and a
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small backlash of energy knocked her to the ground. Too
weak to move, she stared into the darkening sky as the
Supreme Archmage spoke.
“Your sacrifices will not be in vain. I now have the
energy needed to transport the upstarts’ warrior away from
this land.”
Opal cocked her head to the side and watched as the
Supreme Archmage levitated to the edge of the balcony. A
whirlwind of purple-black energy surrounded him, and blew
his robes around like he was in a summer storm. A dozen or
so balls of energy formed to the size of a fist and
interpenetrated his body, as if his flesh were made of the
same force.
Opal watched in amazement as the Supreme Archmage
fired the pulsating magical power from his body, out of his
chest, straight into the heavens. When the stream of dark
energy disappeared into the sky, the old mage fell to his
knees. Is it possible? Even as powerful as he has become,
that a spell could exhaust him?
Everything went black. Opal expected the distant voice
to explain what had she witnessed. She waited, but there
were no more words just—building pain.
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Chapter 30
Stung
Opal’s body convulsed violently, she moaned
gutturally, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Sadok
threw his polearm to the ground and dropped to his knees to
aid her. When he wrapped his hands around her to lift her
into his lap, his eyes widened with surprise.
“By the gods! Get me some cool water and towels. She’s
burning up!” Sadok ordered.
One of the elves rushed off while Sadok ordered the
others to stand back. Sadok had seen many kinds of wounds
in his time as a soldier. Some caused fevers that left a
man’s body shaking uncontrollably but never had he seen
such a reaction for no apparent reason. As he sat with
Opal’s shuddering body across his lap, Sadok thought about
his actions. Being a strategist, Sadok could not help but
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come to the conclusion that leading a mage to a structure
built by other powerful mages might not have been the best
decision.
“Easy, Opal,” Sadok soothed as he applied his
knowledge of basic healing.
He sensed her temperature drop slightly with the
application of cool towels, so he tried to wake her.
“Opal, do you hear me?”
Opal’s limbs continued to flap about, veins in her
head protruding so far they looked as though they might
pop.
“She bears no wound to mend! I don’t know how to stop
this!” Sadok said.
As he watched, he saw Opal’s face slowly turn a deep
shade of red. “She’s going to die,” he said softly as a
drop of crimson blood trickled from her nose.
“Let her die,” an elf with a badly scarred face urged.
“I will not, Dahl.”
“She’s a worthless mage, Sadok!”
“Sir, perhaps we should get her outside?” suggested
the elf who had fetched the water and towels.
“A good idea, Keswick.” Sadok carried her out through
the front gate of the tower and her body slowly relaxed as
he bore her further from the building. He gently lowered
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her onto the soft grass, then returned the cool towel to
her head.
“What happened?” Keswick inquired.
“Magic corrupts her filthy body,” Dalh replied.
Sadok stared at Opal. He noticed that she wore the
same dress as yesterday, but the tears and bloodstains were
gone. She must have magically repaired them, he thought.
Her talents have grown, since last I saw her, but how? Has
magic corrupted her? Something peeked out from underneath
her right sleeve. Carefully, he reached over her, rolled it
up, and turned her arm over.
“See, I told you! She bears the mark!” Dahl pointed
her tattoo out to the others.
“The mark—she’s one of them. I knew it,” one of the
elves who first confronted her said from the back of the
crowd.
Dahl drew his dirk and pointed it at her. “She
intended to fool us. And now she dies.”
“Wait!” Sadok shouted, holding out his arms in an
attempt to stay all the weapons aimed at Opal.
“She’s a spy! We must kill her now!” Dahl shouted
back.
“No!”
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Sadok stood up, and the elves who surrounded him took
a step back. He knew his face was heated, but by the way
his men looked at him, he imagined it was red as well.
Sadok stepped to the one man who had not moved, Dahl,
and shoved him to the ground. “Stand down!”
Gasps and a soft murmur of eleven words surrounded
him, but he did not know what they meant.
“You dare—”
“Dahl, damn you, listen to me. She holds the answers
we need to destroy these mages. She does. We can still use
her to get to them,” Sadok said.
“Nonsensical human logic!” the angry elf said as he
quickly returned to his feet and raised his sword. “We
destroy mages; it is as simple as that!”
“No it’s not,” Sadok replied as he shook his head.
“Not yet.”
***
While Sadok argued with the mage hunters, Opal fought
to regain consciousness. As she awoke, her thoughts were of
what had just transpired. She sat up slowly and rubbed her
head with both hands. She heard a scream—which startled
her—she knew it did not belong to the disembodied voice.
“Stand down! I gave no command to attack!” Sadok
ordered.
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The blades of a half-dozen swords were pointed down at
her, but she felt no fear.
“I’m in charge here, Dahl, my authority speaks for
itself. I’ll handle this.” Sadok turned to Opal and offered
his hand.
“Tired,” was all Opal felt like saying.
Sadok helped her up and braced her as she regained her
balance. When she felt sturdy on her feet, she gave him a
nod.
“Opal, what happened to you?”
She rubbed her temples, the bridge of her nose and
then her eyes. She felt like she had just awoken from a
nightmare and right into another.
“I think there was a magical trap… one set to attack
only mages.”
“It nearly killed you.”
Sadok’s blunt response made her heat race.
“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how I survived
it,” she replied, her hands still shaking with tremors. “It
felt like I did die.”
“Why didn’t you die?” Dahl grumbled.
Opal glared at him. She was about to retort when she
noticed that more people had appeared. There must have been
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thirty or more mage hunters, all heavily armed and
decorated with war paint.
“Tell us, mage!” an angry elf demanded.
“Let her speak,” another said. “She may have
information we can use.”
“Thank you.”
“Keswick.”
“Thank you, Keswick.” Opal nodded. “I didn’t die
because I believe I was meant to see something. Just
moments ago, I witnessed the history of this tower and the
warlord Mustaffa…” Opal nervously admitted.
“While you were unconscious?” Dahl groaned. “I told
you, she means to trick us.”
“Let her finish!” Sadok ordered.
“The tower’s creation, Mustaffa’s rebirth, and his
defeat by the archmages of the High Council—I watched them
happen. And the last thing I saw was an immensely powerful
spell being cast, one aimed at Mustaffa and his army.”
“What else?” someone shouted from the crowd.
“I’m not sure,” Opal hedged. She needed to protect
herself. “It’s fading so quickly. I’m not sure what spell
was being used, but it was meant to stop him. I’m just… I’m
not exactly sure how.”
Sadok patted her back.
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“I will tell you how.” He paused. “The mages summoned
a magical portal so large it swallowed him, his army, and a
chunk of the earth under his feet. Mustaffa’s arrogance had
not prepared him for such a ploy, so to the mages, the
spell was a success.”
A group of elves chuckled.
“But it wasn’t,” Dahl added.
“You see, Opal, the spell did not do as they planned.
With all their magical might, they made one massive
mistake,” Sadok said. “I… We all imagine their intentions
were to drop the warlord in the middle of the Southern Sea.
Well, not knowing what exists outside Illyia, those fools
transported him directly onto a desert continent, instead
of the open waters where he and his army would have
drowned.”
“Your foul power took a bite out of our land, but
Mother Nature answered your insolence by creating the now
fertile Crater Lake,” an older elf said haughtily.
Opal shrugged her shoulders. What the hell is he
talking about?
“Crater Lake. The lake south of the Northern
Mountains,” Sadok explained. “This body of water now
resides where the transportation spell took place.”
“Such a price, and they failed.”
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“They did.”
The thought of it all scared her. If the combined
might of the High Council Archmages and the Supreme could
not defeat the warlord, then how can Karn and I do it
alone?
“Sadok, if you know so much about Mustaffa, why not
stand against him?” Opal asked.
“Think about what you are saying, Opal,” Sadok said as
he took a step away from her.
“What? Mustaffa must be stopped.”
“And we intend to stop him.”
“Good.” Opal felt relived. “How?”
“The mage is blind,” Dahl joked.
The crowd shared a laugh as Sadok explained further.
“Opal, the warlord has returned for only one reason. He
seeks revenge against the mages who defeated him long ago.”
Opal shook her head, “I understand that now.”
“He wants to kill the mages. And so do we…”
Sadok left his statement open for interpretation. It
took her a moment. “If you kill all the mages first—”
“If we kill them first, he’ll have no reason to
continue his march north.”
Opal stared at him in disbelief. He had finally
revealed his motive. And it made sense.
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“Death to the mages!” the elves cheered.
Opal froze as the scarred elf rallied his fellow mage
hunters.
“What say you, Opal? Care to join us?” Sadok asked.
“J-join you?”
“All you need to do is tell us how to get to your
fortress in the mountains,” Sadok said in a coaxing tone.
“Better yet, show us. Take us.”
“My fortress?”
The elves had grown in numbers again, as if
multiplying each time she gazed at them. Their “death to
the mages” chant continued, louder and louder until it
echoed in her ears.
“Tell us! Tell us now!” Dahl demanded.
“Death to mages! Death to mages! Death to mages!” rang
out.
Opal shut her eyes, hoping to trick the elves into
thinking she was exhausted from the day’s events, and
attempted to concentrate on a spell. As hard as she tried,
the echoing words “death to mages” invaded her mind. It
felt like forever before she could clear her mind enough to
think. Once free of the external distractions, she conjured
a transportation spell. The same swirling purple vortex
that placed her in the field not long ago appeared behind
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her in a flash of bright light that momentarily blinded
Sadok and his militia.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m truly sorry.”
Opal scurried into the portal and instantly whisked
herself away from Spire Anguish.
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Chapter 31
Return
Vermilion sunlight poured in through the many windows
of the fortress and burned blocks of light across the floor
and up the wall to half of Opal’s height.
She walked steadily down the hallway that led to the
High Council’s meeting room. The glare from the sun caused
her to squint, but not even that discomfort would break her
concentration on the presence she felt. There’s a foreign
tension in the air, one steeped in dread. This feels wrong;
I pray I’m not making a mistake here…
Opal walked up to the old wooden door of the High
Council meeting room and pushed it open without hesitation.
I’m ready, she thought. Inside, Opal found an empty room—
the archmages were gone. As she walked around the room, the
disembodied voice of Justice cracked the silence.
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<Why have you returned, Opal?>
<I seek answers,> Opal replied. It felt as if she had
echoed those same words all day.
<Answers to what?> Justice impatiently demanded.
<For starters, why did Maximilian attack me?>
<Apparently, the young man witnessed your duel with
Malek. We were unaware he had left, until we sensed a surge
of magic as you two fought.>
With each word from Justice, Opal’s anxiety grew. Her
fists clenched at her hips and she felt the need to strike
at something growing stronger and stronger.
<Where is everyone?>
<Here and there.> Justice’s sarcastic, cryptic answer
made her roll her eyes.
<I need to meet with the Supreme Archmage.> Opal
slammed the High Council’s meeting room door shut behind
her as she left the room.
<The Supreme Archmage is not one to grant meetings
with students.>
“I’m not a student!” Opal snapped, screaming her words
instead of thinking them.
A moment of silence passed as Opal waited for Justice
to reprimanded her.
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<Return Maximilian to life, and I will see that you
get a meeting,> Justice replied.
“What?” Opal threw her hands to her sides. <Even if I
had that level of power, it would take days to perfect such
a spell, and then cast it.>
<Then might I suggest you go to your room and begin
posthaste?>
When his voice fell silent, she had the feeling his
presence had departed, too. He’s gone… Bastard.
***
There was only one place outside her father’s cabin,
which now lay in ruin, that Opal considered home and that
was the tiny room assigned to her inside the mage’s
fortress. Over many months, Opal had brought more and more
plants from the forest into her small space. Today, when
she entered her room, she smiled. She laughed at the sight
of abundant greenery in the otherwise dull grey stone
structure. I’ve done well here. Pine trees, roses, ferns,
sunflowers—I have them all. I just wish I could figure how
to coat the stone floor in thick grass.
Inside her living quarters was every piece of her past
as a student in the council, from her first mage’s robes to
scrolls she had been given to study by her current
teachers. But as she looked at them now she realized the
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items she once cherished as trophies of her excellent work
had become reminders of past mistakes.
Opal stood at the corner of the bed, next to a
grouping of tall sunflowers. I’ve never done a spell like
this before… She closed her eyes and concentrated on a
means of resurrecting her rival from the dead. Minuscule
spheres of red and black energy rose from the floor and
began to grow in size. Sweat streamed down her face as her
breathing became shallow. The orbs traveled faster and
faster, swirling around her body until they blurred into a
single beam of dark red light. Then, without warning, the
cone of light shot out through the window and across the
dusk-darkened sky. While Opal welcomed a deep breath into
her lungs, her tired eyes fluttered and the room spun out
of control. Unable to hold her weakened body up any longer,
she stumbled to the bed and fell unconscious.
***
A red flash of light illuminated the sky above the
sleeping town of New Maejika. The inn, which had been a
center of excitement for most of the day, had finally
quieted down, and the bar was closed for the night. Inside,
torches burned as Rali Redhu and a few others worked
diligently to clean up the mess left behind by Opal’s
violent magic.
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This was not the first time the innkeeper had to mop
up blood after a fight, but this was the first time he had
seen so much blood that the wooden floor itself was stained
red. Gore nearly ankle deep soaked the floorboards and was
splattered on the walls and ceiling outside the room the
mage stayed in on the inn’s second floor. It was all the
innkeeper could do to keep from retching at the sight of
the chunks of flesh that littered his hallway.
While wringing blood from his mop, a dark crimson
light illuminated the hallway like the morning sun and then
promptly faded. Rali looked around for the source until his
eyes fixed on a bucket of viscera that sat against one
wall. As the innkeeper watched, he realized the blood and
gore slowly drained, as if there was a hole at the bottom.
The stress has finally gotten to me, Rali thought, wiping
his brow with a clean towel. With the back of his hand, he
felt his head for a temperature. I’m fine.
Rali closed his eyes a moment and sobbed as images of
guts and bone flashed before his mind’s eye. When he heard
an odd squishing sound, he reopened them. To his horrific
surprise, the gore, which once covered nearly every inch of
the hallway, bubbled and oozed, moving, blob-like, about
the hall as if it had a mind of its own. He would have
screamed had the air not escaped his lungs. All he could do
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was gasp in terror as he watched the stuff concentrate
itself into a large puddle a few feet in front of him.
“Heavens save me,” he whispered.
Once the last drop of blood shot across the floor to
join the newly formed puddle, the mass began to take on a
shape. It stretched up to Rali’s height with a gurgle like
boiling stew. Unable to look away, he gawked as the mass
pumped into the shape of limbs, then flowed and condensed
into the shape of a man’s torso.
In a moment that he would not be able to describe as
anything less than an unholy miracle, Rali witnessed what
was once no more than pools of blood and chunks of flesh
form the shape of a fully grown man.
Rali lost his grip on the mop he held in his hand, and
it fell backward toward the floor. His knees followed,
buckling as his legs turned to noodles under the weight of
his tall body and fell back to the floor, nearly fainting.
Through unfocused eyes, he watched the blood-man quickly
develop a cover of tan skin, as if poured on from above.
Nausea rapidly overcame him and forced what little food he
had eaten that day to spill across the floor. Thinking this
moment could not get any worse, he wiped his mouth clean
and witnessed something even more shocking—the monstrosity
stood up and looked right at him.
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“Will kill. Will kill them all,” it said before it
hobbled into a room and sealed the door behind itself.
***
High atop the mountains north of New Maejika, Opal
awoke. She yawned and stretched, a beam of light catching
the corner of her eye. She stood with a wobble and then
walked to the window of her little bedroom. As she stared
down at the peaceful stillness of the open meadow, a voice
drilled into her head.
<Opal?> Justice’s voice greeted her with an annoyed
twang.
Startled, she grimaced.
<The spell’s done,> she replied to Justice with her
mind. <I trust it worked.>
<What?> Justice exclaimed. <If you restored
Maximilian’s life, where is he?>
<My spell resurrected him where he died. I did what
you asked. I never promised to ferry the bastard home,>
Opal thought flatly.
<We… Yes, we can sense him Opal; he’s alive. Now,
reveal to me how this is possible. Only a night has
passed.>
Only a night, Opal thought as she felt her heart skip
with surprise and excitement. How is that possible? Wait,
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is this another one of their tricks, or do I truly have
access to such power?
<He’s alive. Now, may I meet with the Supreme
Archmage?>
A moment of silence passed. Opal paced as she waited
for his response. She could only imagine what the council
was discussing in private, and the limitless possibilities
both frightened and annoyed her.
<Preparations will be made. I will contact you soon.>
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Chapter 32
Supreme
Opal sat in silence. Like a predatory cat, her near
meditative state was as relaxing as sleep, but it also
allowed her to use a small spell to keep track of the other
mages in the fortress. She reached out to Karn with her
thoughts. Opal could almost feel him, see him, and smell
him as if he was there with her. Wherever he was, she was
worried about him. She could feel his emotional presence
and sense he was exhausted.
Just as she focused her thoughts into a message for
him, she realized somebody was watching her. Before she had
even opened her eyes, she lashed out with a silver dagger
she had hidden in her bed. Nothing? The room’s empty.
“Damn imps!” Opal grumbled. “They’ve probably been
watching me all damn day.”
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“No, enchantress, it’s not the imps you sensed,” a
gruff voice came from the window.
Zian sat perched on the windowsill. The hair on his
forearms and back stood on end and his legs were covered in
dirt. He hunched his back, then hopped into the room and
approached Opal. The sunlight shining through the window at
his back cast a deep shadow over his face but did not hide
his piercing red eyes. He’s a monster.
“Zian, you—”
“What are you doing here?” His voice was suspicious.
“They’ll sense you.”
“No, they will not. I’ve performed a ritual called the
Sacra-Retu. It enables me to hide my presence from mystical
beings,” he explained as he leaned toward her.
“I sensed you.”
“Not magically,” he growled. “You heard me. Again,
what are you doing here?”
“Please, don’t get the wrong idea, Zian,” she
whispered, as she backed away from him. “I’m here to
uncover the truth.”
“I smell your lies,” he hissed.
“Lies? No. I discovered that Mustaffa is in fact a
warlord called Naraboo from this region.” She spoke
quickly, hoping to convince him otherwise. “If I regain
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their trust, I may be able to learn more about Mustaffa and
what exactly is happening here.”
“They are evil, that’s all you need to know, girl,”
Zian stated as he stared in her eyes.
She had not known him long, but she was sure that Zian
was not a conversationalist. The beast man only spoke when
he had to, and in this moment, he had said much. And still,
Opal felt a strange comfort when he talked; she hoped that
as long as she could keep him engaged, he was no threat.
“Where’s Raven?” Opal asked.
“I took her into the mountains.”
“Took her?”
“To hide during the coming apocalypse.” Zian paced the
floor.
“Apocalypse?”
“War is the way of humans, and this war is going to
destroy us all.” He pointed at Opal with his clawed finger.
“How would you know that?” Opal’s mouth grew dry as
she spoke.
“My people are in tune with nature, girl. We have
sensed our world dying for some time now. The elves can
sense it too.” Zian huffed and drew a deep breath as he
turned toward the window. “Between the unnatural magic you
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mages wield and the madman’s invasion, there’ll be nothing
left of this land. Nothing left for our children.”
“What?” Opal raised an eyebrow.
“I’m ready to strike. Together we can bring down this
perverted house of evil,” Zian said over his shoulder.
“This is your last chance; you must choose a side, girl.”
With those words hardly past his doglike lips, he
jumped through the open window. Dismayed by what Zian had
said, she sat back down on the bed and drew her legs to her
chest with a deep breath. Lost in thought, she barely
noticed the remainder of the day passing. Before she knew
it, it was late and archmages’ had summoned her.
Justice instructed her to meet him outside the High
Council meeting room right away, so she teleported herself
there and found the man standing statue-still with an
impassive look upon his face.
“He awaits you inside,” Justice said, folding his
arms.
Opal was somewhat surprised. I never imagined being
granted a one-on-one meeting. In that moment, as she pushed
the door open, she wondered if the Supreme Archmage even
existed. Maybe he had died long ago during the conflict
between the two factions. Could this all be an elaborate
trap? she thought, a chill running down her spine. She
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recalled seeing the Supreme Archmage from afar months ago,
while she studied with her classmates. Perhaps what I saw
was only an illusion created by one of the archmages. Could
their manipulations run so deep?
But seated at the center of the meeting room table
was the man himself, the ruler and rumored founder of the
High Council of Mages. He was older than she had imagined,
at least five times her age. At first glance, he seemed to
be no more than brittle bones draped in loose, wrinkled
skin. The sight made her think back to when she was a
child.
Opal remembered her father taking her to a festival in
Weiden’s Rise. It was shortly after a plague had passed and
the survivors were celebrating. They dressed in dark colors
and wore animal bones in their hair. Opal vividly
remembered a large doll that someone had made from old
clothes and hay, like a scarecrow, hanging from a rope
attached to a staff. The man who carried it made the thing
wiggle and jump when he approached Opal. Instead of fearing
it, Opal remembered laughing.
With that, the Supreme Archmage lost his role as an
authority figure and became nothing more than a doll of a
dried up corpse in her eyes. Opal smiled and tried not to
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laugh, but the urge was irresistible. She stifled a short
giggle and introduced herself.
The Supreme Archmage raised his hand to stop her from
saying any more. “I know you, child. I know the names of
all my students.” His old voice rattled. “Shall we?”
“Please.”
He cleared his throat and began.
“The former rulers of the High Council planned to
conquer Illyia with a warlord they created. This became a
single point of conflict, a catalyst that formed a rift
amongst the council. You see, Opal, in the past, there were
those who felt that our role should be as healers and
caregivers to the high monarchs. Others felt that it should
be us who ruled and given the respect that we deserved. The
once combined factions of white and dark magics split, with
no compromise. There was no warning, no plan; it just
happened. One day the sun rose and welcomed the dawn of a
revolution.” The Supreme Archmage paused to catch his
breath and drink from a small wooden mug that sat before
him. “Mages fought all over our home, from basement to the
tops of the towers. Young and old, experienced, and novice—
they all clashed over their ideals.”
“How many lives were lost?” Opal asked, but he did not
answer directly.
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“It was a sad day,” he continued. “A bloody day that
forever will be marked in our history as not only dismal,
but the very moment that changed our way of studying the
magical arts.”
Opal nodded.
“During the battle, a small group of mages, ones that
would eventually be referred to as the upstarts, fled the
fortress. These rebels stole away into the night with many
of the council’s scrolls and earliest magic books. Among
the stolen scrolls was the one containing the Ancient
Warlord’s Soul spell,” the Supreme Archmage explained.
“Mustaffa,” Opal stated matter of factly.
The Supreme Archmage paused again to catch his breath.
Opal thought he seemed taken aback by her assumption, but
the old man was hard to read.
“So you know some of our history, do you?”
“New Maejika has many books chronicling the regions
past. After reading one, I visited Spire Anguish,” Opal
admitted.
“Did you really, young one?” The old mage rubbed his
dry face. “Well, the white tower is an amazing sight, is it
not?”
Opal looked across the table at the leader of the High
Council and considered telling him the truth: that she had
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entered the tower and seen some of what had happened
through visions. She wanted to inform him that she had even
seen him, his role in it all. Instead, she decided to keep
it all to herself and see what else she could learn first.
“Elven mage hunters inhabit Spire Anguish now. I
couldn’t enter it even if I wanted to,” she lied, nervous
that he might sense her dishonesty.
“A word of advice, my young student: Stay out of the
tower. The mage hunters are of little concern to a powerful
conjurer. The true threat is a mystical trap set to
instantly kill our kind.”
“A trap? Was it set by one of the mages who survived
the rebellion?” Opal asked, thinking of the one upstart
mage who had looked familiar.
“A well-thought-out deduction. Yes, it was set by one
of the upstarts. In fact, it was cast by the same
individual who stole the scroll containing the Ancient
Warlord’s Soul spell.”
Opal started to see more of the once invisible ties
from the past to the present as if laid out before her like
an intricate map. It was beginning to take shape, when out
of the blue, Opal realized who the familiar-looking upstart
mage had been. He was the man she had known as Limper.
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His leg, Opal thought. Limper’s leg was burned long
ago in an accident and like Mustaffa’s burns, it was a
wound that has never properly healed.
“Mustaffa was created by mages, and now he seeks to
destroy them all. Ironic, is it not? But what son does not
want to take his father’s place?” The Supreme Archmage
chuckled.
“He’s furious and he’s coming here for revenge,” Opal
said. “How can you laugh?”
“I have complete faith that your boy, the Rook, will
stop him before he reaches the north, Opal. Don’t you?”
Opal now had a better idea of why they referred to
Karn as “the Rook.” To these men, life was nothing more
than a giant game of chess. The man she loved was nothing
more to her teachers than a disposable piece to move into
battle before their enemies. They are solely responsible
for this war, and they are not even going to fight in it.
“Come to think of it, where is the Rook now?”
“Karn—the Rook is on his way to Kel Tora to seek
allies.”
“Very good. While he travels, we would like to test
your new skills. It seems you have become more powerful as
of late,” the Supreme Archmage said, as he folded his hands
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on the table before him. “Powerful enough to even defeat
Malek in a duel.”
“I—”
“You sapped Malek’s powers, Opal.”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what were you supposed to do with them?”
“I…” Opal paused to answer. “I was—”
“You were supposed to absorb them. That was your
order, and yet you allowed Malek’s magical power to
dissipate into the ether.”
“Why would I want to ingest his poison?” Opal
answered.
The man smiled. “A bold statement, one befitting our
next archmage.”
“What? Me?” Her jaw dropped. Could it be that the
archmages have finally noticed my worth? Am I truly being
invited to join them?
“Go, Opal, succeed in this one last test as a student.
Prove to your former teachers that you no longer need
them.”
Eyes wide, Opal nodded and slowly walked from the
room. Despite her elation, she felt confident she had not
given away the fact that she had learned much more from the
tower than even the Supreme Archmage suspected. Opal
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brushed a few strands of red, wispy hair from her face as
she sped down the hallway. Justice was now joined by Malek.
With no desire to engage either man, Opal looked away as
she passed them.
“I nearly died. I hope you’re pleased,” Malek said as
she passed, and she felt his eyes burn into her.
“Very,” she said without pause.
“This is not over.”
Although Opal did not want to say another word to the
man, she stopped and turned around. Caught up in her own
world, she had forgotten about the other students. She had
spent so much time worrying about herself that she had
pushed away everyone else. As she stood there, she wondered
if the other students were being manipulated too. Do any of
them have a clue as to what is happening? She assumed the
other students of the High Council, like herself until
recently, were unaware of the seriousness of Mustaffa’s
invasion or that mage hunters existed, men determined to
slaughter their kind. I should warn everyone, Opal thought,
but first she would need to find a way to speak with them
in private.
“Where are all the other students?” Opal asked,
feeling the weight of Malek’s eyes still on her.
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“Do not worry about them. They’ll remain safe here in
our stronghold until these hostilities are over. Are you
ready to return to training?”
“Tomorrow,” Opal answered.
“One meeting with our leader and the bitch thinks
she’s no longer a student.”
She heard Malek’s grumble to Justice, and it only made
her smile bigger.
“We shall see what Horus thinks after her next
session,” Justice replied.
Opal could not have been happier with Justice’s
selection of a trainer. Horus was the man she called
Limper.
“Tell Horus that I look forward to seeing him
tomorrow.”
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Chapter 33
Repercussions
Opal returned to her quarters, her thoughts in the
past. She wished she could gaze back into her life. She
wanted to assess the time she had spent at the council and
clearly identify when the archmages had first lied to her,
but she could not. Her obsession with finding the truth had
reached a sudden crashing end, and the answers were worse
than the questions.
Opal opened her door and entered her dark room. I just
want to sleep. She brushed against something coarse and
warm—alive—and fear seized her. The door slammed shut
behind her, and Zian’s gruff voice pierced the tense
silence.
“We need to talk.”
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“Zian! Gods, you startled… Why must you sneak up on
me?”
“Because I can, girl.”
Opal concentrated on the lamp in her room and lit it
with a magical red flame. Zian dashed away from her as if
startled and peered out the open window before he gazed at
her again; his mistrust worried her all the more.
“What’s wrong?”
Zian looked more doglike than usual. His ears were
turned back and flattened against his head, and the hair on
the back of his neck stood sharply on end like a thousand
tiny spikes.
“There are repercussions to everything you do in life,
girl,” he stated. “A simple yes or no can shape the world
around you.”
“I don’t understand—”
Zian growled. “You mages feel that you can do whatever
you please, but you are gravely mistaken.”
“What are you saying?” She had never heard him speak
so angrily and philosophically.
“Shut up and listen,” Zian rumbled, taking a single
step toward her.
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“I’m sorry,” Opal apologized, but she was only
partially sincere—and also distracted by the possibility of
punishment. “Zian, I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize to me,” Zian huffed. “Go to New
Maejika. See what you have created.”
His hind legs tensed, and with a sudden spring, he
launched himself through the window. Opal rushed across her
bedroom to watch him, curious. When she poked her head out
the window, only a gust of wind and a rustle of leaves on
the landing below remained. Zian’s quick, she thought, and
his messages usually puzzling… but not this time. This
visit had a clear purpose. And that scared her.
***
Opal set off for New Maejika before dawn. She
transported herself out to the farthest edge of the fields
where the mages trained, then walked the rest of the way to
town to clear her head. She had been awakened in the middle
of the night by a passing thunderstorm, which had left the
grass slightly damp. The moisture in the air combined with
the odor of decaying leaves, the scent redolent of the end
of autumn.
Her walk was quiet and peaceful, which allowed her a
contentment she had not felt in many days. Perhaps things
will be better.
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***
After a time, she approached the same row of trees she
remembered from when she and Karn walked through the night.
The pines acted as a wall and obscured the side of town. As
she drew near the end of the line of trees, the faint yet
ominous odor of burnt wood tickled her nostrils. Then it
was gone, taken away by the wind.
She had been so caught up in thought, that she had not
noticed the lack of sound: no birds chirping, no chopping
of wood, no lowing of cows. There was no sound. She
hastened her steps as she moved past the last tree and
welcomed a full view of the town.
The town was still, so Opal stopped at the entrance.
“Where is everyone?” she asked herself, bewildered.
Opal wandered down the path that led directly through
the center of New Maejika, her eyes and ears searching for
life. Careful not to make too much noise, she avoided
broken glass, pieces of wood, and other debris that
curiously littered the dirt road.
Cottages that had sung with life were now silent, and
the pungent odor that overcame her outside of town grew
stronger and thicker with each step. Opal tilted her head
back, inhaled deeply, and followed the scent until she
found its source. No, this cannot be.
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The once beautiful First Inn of New Maejika had been
reduced to a charred husk. Only two vertical beams still
stood in the right corner of the smoldering remains, a
melted carcass of a stove in another.
“You bastard,” Opal said under her breath when she
realized the source of all this destruction—Maximilian.
“You arrogant bastard.”
She walked the perimeter of the inn, and, she saw the
twisted, charred remains of at least half a dozen people
scattered through the debris.
“No, no, no, no… no!” she cried.
Opal fell to her knees sobbing. Her mind flooded with
memories of the days when she was a court healer. I used to
help people. I used to heal people. Now what?
She wanted to scream out to Zian, ask him why he had
sent her here, but she knew he was not to blame. The
tragedy of what she witnessed steadily filled her with a
new level of anger, one that demanded action. Opal reached
into the ash and pulled out a foot-long piece of charred
wood. Whipping around in a rage, she heaved the debris over
her head. The wood exploded into a puff of ash as it hit a
bush; a flock of black birds crowed as they were frightened
from some nearby trees. Their flight caught Opal’s eye for
an instant, and when she looked back down, she caught a
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glimpse of someone or something dashing between two
cottages to her far left.
At first, she assumed it was Zian, and she tried to
reach out to him with her mind, but there was no response.
<Zian, I know you hear me!>
Opal stood silently looking from side to side. She
wiped the tears out of her eyes, only to smear trails of
wet ash down her red face.
SNAP!
Opal spun around toward the sound of a dry twig
breaking. A small child ran out from behind one of the
small cottages toward the town’s square. Without
hesitating, Opal took off in pursuit. She ran as fast as
she could, gaining on the child with every stride. As she
drew closer she could tell the child was a young boy, seven
or eight at most.
“Wait!” she yelled.
The young boy looked back at her as he desperately
tried to escape. “Don’t hurt me,” he cried—he appeared
terrified.
Just when she was close enough to grab the child’s
shoulder, a sharp stomach cramp lanced through her. The
pain was so strong she doubled over and clenched her side.
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Not wanting the boy to escape, Opal cast a spell to stop
him before he reached the thick tree line.
A bright pulsating ball of plum-colored light appeared
in her left hand. She quickly raised her arm and aimed it
at the running child. Without warning, the tingling feeling
which frequently accompanied the use of her magic struck
hard. In the past, the sensation had come in small waves, a
shiver across her skin or a tingle at her breast. This time
the feeling rumbled down her body, and shot out every limb.
Caught between the stomach cramp and the intense,
full-body shiver, she lost concentration. The spell fired
from her hand at lightning speed, pelting the child
squarely between his shoulders as he ran away. The child
disappeared into a puff of violet smoke, only to reappear
no more than five feet in front of Opal. As Opal had hoped,
his momentum threw him forward, and he stumbled right into
her open arms.
“No!” the child screamed. “Let go!”
“Calm down.” Opal held him in a tight embrace. “I
won’t hurt you, sweetie.”
The boy cried out in fear as he squirmed in her arms.
“You’re safe. I’m a healer,” Opal said softly. “I’m
here to help.”
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The boy calmed slightly. “Do all healers wear war
paint?” he asked tremulously.
“War paint?” Opal said, puzzled.
“You’re here to save us?” The child smiled.
Opal let the little boy go and promptly realized that
the pain in her stomach had vanished. As her mind ticked
over the possible reasons for her sudden illness, the boy
continued.
“Mommy and Daddy left without Granddad, so I came back
to get him. Shh! He’s sleeping,” the boy said, nearly
hyperventilating.
“Where are your parents?” Opal interrupted. But he
could not or would not tell.
Opal took his tiny hand in hers and asked him to
escort her in the direction of his grandfather. Right away,
the boy led her back through town not far from where the
inn was located. It was a quaint-looking cabin, small, but
large enough to house a family. When Opal peeked in, she
feared and expected the worst. Nevertheless was still
shocked by what she found. The little boy’s grandfather lay
on the floor inside. The cabin itself was torn apart. Old
clothes, books, and cookware cluttered the floor. Opal
wanted to believe that the reason it looked this way was
because the family had fled the town in haste, but she knew
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better. The smell in the air—there’s blood here. The cabin
had been looted.
“Come with me.” Opal led the little boy away from the
cabin and told him to wait while she went back inside.
“Will you show me a trick?” he asked.
“Yes, but only if you stay right here for a bit,” Opal
said, and then pointed to a spot on the ground.
“Really? Okay!” He plopped down on the ground and
began picking the grass around him. “Hurry.”
“I will.”
Opal cautiously reentered the house. She crept into
the main room toward the body of the little boy’s
grandfather. I should use a spell: a shield, some light, a
weapon—no. That… intense feeling that came with the last
spell I cast… I’m not sure I can handle it right now.
After a quick inspection of the corpse, Opal
determined that the man had been stabbed. She glanced at
the partially open bedroom door in the corner of the room.
Is someone there?
The old man’s eyes held her attention; they had rolled
back in his head and the veins in his neck had popped out.
Opal had seen eyes likes this before. He died in extreme
pain. She looked at the open bedroom door again and had a
sober thought. If his killer remains, I might too.
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She crossed his arms over his chest, stood up, and
peeked at the partially open door. The fear of what might
lay beyond it gripped her so tightly that she was reluctant
to move, and yet she was irresistibly drawn toward it.
The looters had been thorough. They had emptied every
cabinet, barrel, and chest onto the floor. Opal threaded
her way through the clutter toward the bedroom. Once in
front of the door, she thrust it open. The back room was
empty. It seemed as if the looters had stolen every last
item of use, even the bedding. Such chaos, Opal thought,
and it’s all my fault. I should’ve considered the
repercussions before resurrecting a hotheaded amateur like
Max.
As Opal staggered out of the cabin, the child looked
up at her, guileless.
“Is he awake yet?”
“No, not yet,” she said.
“Oh,” the little boy replied, disappointed, then,
brightening, “Show me a trick?”
“Look… I’m sorry but…” Opal began, but was interrupted
by a woman’s scream.
“Timothy!”
“Mommy?” the little boy yelled as he jumped to his
feet.
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Three elderly men in dirt-stained farmer’s clothing
appeared between two of the neighboring cabins. The men
held their ground in a tight line, as if they waited for a
command to attack. Their angry faces were much more
threatening than the rusty pitchforks they bore.
“Mommy?” the little boy called out again.
Instinctively, Opal stepped in front of the boy
placing herself between him and the irate men. Some time
had passed and no one moved, until a frantic-looking woman
pushed her way beyond the three men.
“Timothy!” she screamed.
“Mommy!”
The little boy dashed around Opal to his mother,
latching himself to her leg.
“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here,” the woman soothed.
“Mommy, this woman was helping me wake grandfather.
She’s a healer.”
The woman had not stopped examining Opal since she
arrived. And now Opal followed the woman’s eyes as they
moved up and down her body several times, before finally
coming to rest on her face.
“You look more like some rich whore than a healer,”
the woman said. “Of course, whores use squashed berries not
dirt to highlight their faces.”
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Opal quickly wiped her face, discovering the smeared
ash on her cheeks.
“Mommy, she’s a magical healer,” Timmy snapped.
“Timmy, do not speak like that.”
“Actually, I am,” Opal interrupted.
One of the men spoke up. “I thought she looked
familiar. I saw her in the bar two nights ago. Damn, it’s
her! She’s the one!”
Pitchforks were now aimed by the men. Opal could feel
them directed at her heart. The woman lifted up her child
as she glared at Opal. The guilt that had nagged at Opal
since she entered the town suddenly crashed back upon her
tenfold. There was no need to talk, or use her magic to
read their emotions; she could clearly read what they were
thinking in their gestures, and it turned her stomach.
“You’re responsible for all of this!” one of the men
yelled, waving his pitchfork at her.
“Not me,” Opal replied. “It was the other—”
“The man you destroyed was somehow recreated—returned
to life. He was screaming in pain, so a few of us tried to
help him…”
Opal did not have to listen to the rest; she knew how
the story would end. By the appearance of the town,
Maximilian must have been filled with fury, and when he
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regained his powers, he had unleashed them upon his
surroundings with an earth-shattering force.
“I’m not like him,” Opal stated, waving her hands
chest height. “I’m not responsible for his actions.”
“Oh, well then, if you’re so bleeding different, then
you should’ve protected us!” another man yelled, his voice
quivering.
“So many lives lost and why? Why?” the woman sobbed.
The mother’s tears gnawed at Opal’s heart; she wanted
to vomit. It was not so long ago when my duty was to help
the injured, now I’m responsible for so many casualties.
How did this happen? she asked herself. When did I become
so heartless?
Opal mumbled an apology as she fled, once again
through a small portal that magically transported her to
the mages’ fortress.
The deluge of confusion and sadness she had felt for
days had quickly twisted into seething anger, and the
result was a piercing headache. Opal wanted to lash out at
the archmages but could not. Her emotions were being pulled
in two directions: total disgust for the way the Council
toyed with life enraged her, yet underneath all the hatred
she felt gratitude, because without the council, she would
not have learned to protect herself.
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Not long after she set foot on the cold stone floor of
the fortress, Archmage Justice contacted her. They must
have been tracking my movements; she expected no less.
Still, the tone of Justice’s impatient and superior tone
irked her.
<Report immediately to the training fields, Opal.>
<I’ll be right there.>
<You better be.>
Opal ground her teeth through each syllable. With a
deep breath, she focused on not allowing her emotions to
control her actions. This is exactly what I want. Now is my
chance.
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Chapter 34
Discovery
Below the fortress on the Lightning Field, Opal
practiced her spells. It was a routine she thought she had
outgrown months ago. Practice, lecture, and practice again,
all while being bombarded by the constant dialogue of the
archmage she nicknamed Limper.
“You’re only limited by your own creativity, Opal,”
Limper continued.
She smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. If he
only knew…
“Now let us recap. I have placed a bottle in this
field—” the archmage began.
“Over there, five or six steps from that tree trunk,”
she said without hesitation.
The archmage looked amazed briefly.
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“You’re very fortunate, Opal. You don’t have to depend
on skills most of us have to. But how can you cast a spell
you have never even imagined before?” Limper asked
sincerely.
Opal shrugged, too busy trying to formulate the best
way to ask her question to respond. It was the sense that
she had already waited too long that made her spit out,
“Are you the last upstart mage?”
Limper froze a moment. When he finally moved again, it
was to wipe his brow and face with a handkerchief he
carried in the sleeve of his robe. As he shook his head
with what appeared to be surprise and frustration, he sat
down on a tree stump.
Opal waited patiently for the old mage to speak. As
she stared at him, she realized the look on his sad, old
face said more than any words could.
“You are,” she blurted out.
“Yes, I am,” Limper admitted, nodding solemnly.
“Then the rest of the archmages are survivors of the
dark mage faction,” Opal concluded, the last piece of the
puzzle falling in place.
“Yes,” he said softly.
Opal paced back and forth in front of him, her mind
churning. “I was inside Spire Anguish. I saw the message.”
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“No, you couldn’t have seen my message,” Limper said.
“That spell was designed to kill any form of evil that
entered.”
“Oh, it hurt,” Opal confessed as she motioned to her
head. “But as you can see, I’m still alive.”
“That you are.”
“Come to think of it, those who now dwell in the tower
may have actually saved my life by pulling me out.”
Limper stood and hobbled toward Opal until he was only
a few steps away from her. “You started your career with
the High Council as a healer, if my memory serves me,
correct?”
“Yes,” Opal replied.
“How could I have been so blind?” Limper muttered.
“Your powers originate from nature. Of course, this must
mean… you’re not one of them.”
Opal did not fully understand what the old archmage
was implying. How could I be responsible for such dreadful
things, she thought, if my powers are derived from all that
is good in nature?
“Have you not heard of my accomplishments these recent
months? More than once, I have chosen death over life.”
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“The archmages have been seducing you with the dark
magical arts since you joined, young Opal. That’s how they
shape you in their image of pure evil.”
Opal’s stomach flip-flopped—she felt like she could be
sick at any moment. She understood it all but could hardly
believe any of it. How, she wondered, how could I have
allowed this to happen? How could I be charmed and
entranced by the foulest of magic?
A sour taste overcame her mouth as she realized that,
while blind to their purpose, she had handed these wicked
men the one person she loved more than any other: Karn.
The old mage continued to speak, but he may as well
have been talking to himself. Opal closed her eyes and
turned away. Don’t let him see you like this. Show power,
not weakness.
The mounting winds whipped her silky red hair up over
her head. A bright yellow-brown aura enveloped her body and
nearly lifted her off the ground. Opal threw out her arms
and screamed at the top of her lungs. Instantly, the ground
in front of her began to tremble and crack. Grass shot out
into the wind and small chunks of dirt and rock exploded.
The earth rumbled all around her, yet she stood still
before the destruction. Then, like a bolt of lightning, the
earthquake at her feet crossed the field toward the distant
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tree line. Moments later, trees toppled with thunderous
crashes. As the wind died, so did Opal’s throaty scream.
She opened her eyes slowly and finally cast a glance at
Limper.
“What was that?” the archmage shouted.
Opal grumbled her response. “Ages of anger.”
While Opal enjoyed the results of her vented
frustration, Justice and his owl familiar appeared through
a portal similar to one of her own.
“Impressive.”
Limper’s old, dry, face went pale at the sight of his
fellow archmage. Opal understood. Justice’s sudden arrival
no doubt meant trouble for both of them.
“Horus, for the record, we all knew you would
eventually fold. My question is: Why now? We need to be at
full strength. The warlord comes to kill us all, and you
weaken us by telling this one the truth!” Justice’s voice
was filled with scorn.
“I’m done with all of you!” Opal screamed the moment
Justice finished speaking. “I will not aid you twisted old
bastards anymore!”
“Really? And what makes you think you can prevent us
from forcing you?” Justice replied, his owl taking off from
his shoulder.
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“I can—” Opal started.
“Quiet!”
Justice’s voice invaded her mind and body. It stole
away her voice and held her statue still. While Justice
walked toward her, taking his time, a smile formed on his
crumpled old face. Desperate to free herself from the
mage’s spell, Opal’s body shivered and new, unpolluted rage
grew within her. When Justice drew close enough to touch
her, he reached out toward her belly.
“Opal, you’re with child,” he surmised as his
shriveled fingers brushed against her stomach.
At first, she did not hear his words. All of her
senses focused on his hand as it rested upon her stomach.
At that moment, she felt complete and utter disgust, as if
that one emotion was all she had, all she breathed and
consumed. Her body tensed and the hairs on her arm stood on
end. The air near her body crackled; then deep inside her,
a golden-green bubble of magical energy formed and began to
grow outward.
It pushed Justice slowly and gently away from her.
Apparently dumbfounded, he fought to stand his ground.
Then, the bubble retracted slightly and flexed outward with
a flash of blinding light that scared away Justice’s owl.
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When the bubble struck Justice’s body, he burst, his bloody
insides splattering far across Lightning Field.
As he died his silence spell faded. The bubble rapidly
dissolved, and Opal stepped away from the blood-soaked
grass toward the other archmage.
“You!” She pointed at Limper, who stared in disbelief.
“Wh-what?”
Her heart leaped in joy at the fear in his tone.
“Whose side are you on? Don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you, I
swear it!” Opal shouted, her teeth bared like a rabid
animal.
“I have been and always will be an upstart,” he
announced proudly.
“Then get as far away from this place as you can.”
“Your child, it—”
“Gods help me, speak another word and you die.”
Opal half expected the remainder of the mages of the
High Council to rain down upon her like a cataclysmic
storm. Yet nothing disturbed the field’s customary calmness
and tranquility. Where are they? Why haven’t they come?
“Go now,” she said calmly.
“Goodbye then,” Limper whispered before he vanished
down into the ground, swallowed by the earth at his feet.
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Once Limper was gone, Opal realized that what she had
done had set events into motion. She had made a decision,
one that would shape her life forever.
“Zian!” she screamed as she lifted her face to the
sky. “I’ve chosen!”
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Chapter 35
Assault
Opal teleported herself back into the mages’
stronghold directly outside the High Council’s meeting
room. She took a few deep breaths and shoved the big wooden
double doors open. They slammed into the wall with a
resonating thud that she imagined rumbled throughout the
entire fortress. Opal did not know what to expect, but she
never would have anticipated what she found. The High
Council Supreme Archmage sat slumped over the table, his
skin charred and still smoking. The smoldering carcasses of
two other mages, most likely students by the markings on
their robes, lay on the floor side by side.
The stench of scorched flesh started to overcome her.
Opal staggered backward out of the room and, choking,
rushed to the first open window she could find.
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“Zian?” she called out. “Are you here?”
As she waited for a response, she thought of the beast
man. He would’ve gutted them. He wouldn’t have set them
ablaze.
Before her head could clear, she heard something
approaching. She looked down the hallway and saw Zian, his
body so low to the ground that his bared fangs nearly
scraped the stone floor.
“Zian! It’s me, Opal!” she yelled for fear he would
attack.
“I just tore out the throat of that horrid whistling
man,” Zian huffed. “It was much more satisfying than I had
anticipated.”
“You did what?” she blurted, shocked. “You killed
Whistler?”
“How many have you destroyed?” Zian asked, peering
over his shoulder, his nose twitching.
“I killed one in the field,” Opal answered. The death
toll did not add up.
“And the one I discovered in your room?” He pointed
with his snout.
“In my room?” She shook her head. “No. I didn’t kill
anyone in my room.” Opal could not fathom what was
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happening, and the possibilities scared her more than the
archmages themselves did. “Who’s killing them?”
“There are many scents present, but none out of the
ordinary.” Zian sniffed the air.
“Could Mustaffa be here?”
Opal watched Zian’s ears perk up as his head slowly
rose. Zian turned to her and moved suddenly. His touch was
soft at first. What is he— Opal found herself suddenly on
the floor, shoved nearly five feet by the beast man. Before
she could ask why, a huge beam of bright magical energy
shot through the wall where she had stood only moments
before. As thick as two oak trees, the beam left a gaping
hole in the wall, where it exited the fortress. The sound
of melting stone hissed like snakes as white vapor rose
from the damage.
“Quick, follow me, girl,” Zian commanded as he bolted
off down the hallway away from the smoking hole.
Opal hated when he called her girl. The way he
pronounced the word sounded like nothing more than a growl.
Today it seemed even less human than normal. Perhaps, she
thought, he’s still angry with me over what transpired at
New Maejika.
Opal ran as fast as she could but lagged behind,
unable to keep up with Zian’s catlike speed. When Zian
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stopped, a chill shot down her spine. She knew without
asking that Zian had found a target. When she reached him,
she heard what he was listening to.
“Zian, wait… That voice,” Opal observed. “Yes, it
belongs to that bastard Maximilian.”
Opal peered around the corner just in time to watch
Max raise his hands against her friend Elizabeth. A scream
built in her lungs, but the pounding of her heart
barricaded it in her chest. Opal watched her friend
transform herself into water and was relieved for just a
moment before she witnessed the unthinkable. As Elizabeth
began to melt into the floor, Max emitted a pulsating flash
of blinding energy. The amber-colored radiance burned
through Elizabeth instantly, evaporating her water form
into steam. Elizabeth did not cry out in pain; she went
bravely to her death.
The sight made Opal’s heart want to burst through her
chest. Her friend’s murder—by a man Opal could have left
dead—made her boil with rage. With great effort she choked
back a frenzy-filled howl and stepped into view. Gritting
her teeth, she stood eye to eye with the man who had so
callously killed someone she loved.
“Opal, how good to see you.”
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It was not until he spoke that she realized the left
side of his face was damaged; his brow scarred, his cheek
sunken in, and the side of his jaw missing.
“What happened to your face?”
“You did. But I forgive you.” Max traced his fingers
down his ruined face. “I will find a way to heal this
soon.”
“I did this?”
“Oh, Opal,” Max said cheerfully. “We have so much to
talk about, you and I.”
He opened his arms as if to welcome her with a hug.
He’s smiling. That asshole is smiling. Opal forced herself
to move.
“Imagine my surprise when you murdered—what do you
call him? Yes, Justice,” Max said offhandedly. “I never
would’ve guessed it. Good work.”
“Guessed what?”
“Guessed that the warlord had gotten to you too,” Max
said, as he continued to approach her. “Mind you, I’m only
serving him to get my mother back. Then I will kill him
too.”
“You’re working for Mustaffa?” she gasped. “Is he
here?”
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“No, dear Opal, he’s not here. But if he were, he
would commend me for my work,” Maximilian boasted, wiping
his chin where drool spilled from his damaged mouth. “Let
me guess. He caught your precious lover and told you he
would set him free if you helped?”
Opal wanted to say something, to condemn him, but bit
her tongue instead.
“I just wish the warlord would’ve sent me some sort of
warning that you would be coming to aid me. I was in the
middle of a meeting with the Supreme Archmage and two other
students when he sensed your attack. You should’ve seen the
look on his face when he realized that you had betrayed
him. It was almost as horrified as the look he gave me when
I burned the skin from his dried up, old body.”
Max chuckled. Twisted bastard. He’s truly amused by
his wicked deeds. I hate myself for it, but I have felt the
same for my accomplishments.
Max was now a few feet from Opal, looking her directly
in the eye. “Such a pity. After what you did to me; how you
left me…” he shivered. “I was so looking forward to killing
you. Yet as much as it sickens me, I have to admit… I may
need your help. Even with my powers amplified, I cannot
possibly kill them all alone.”
His words echoed in her head. “Powers amplified?”
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“Oh, I assumed he amplified yours too.” Bemused,
Maximilian looked at Opal.
Opal could not answer. Although she had tried her best
to avoid it, her eyes had fallen to the wet spot on the
floor that was all that remained of her friend Elizabeth.
“You see,” Maximilian began, “The warlord forced a
powerful mage from his continent to create a few magical
items to aid in his war against the council.” He waved his
hand. “This ring augments my powers for as long as I wear
it.”
“Max, why would the man who is at war with the High
Council give a member of it something to amplify his
powers?” Opal asked suspiciously.
“Perhaps he’s an even bigger fool than we all
imagined,” Max answered airily.
Once again, Maximilian began to pace, this time
passing her while he finished gloating. As he moved, a
strange sensation made Opal’s skin crawl. Her intuition
said he was going to attack. She blinked her eyes, during
which an image of him spinning around, his hands engulfed
in sunlike fire, filled her mind. Opal tensed up and
prepared to react.
When she heard the heels of his boots plant firmly on
the stone floor, Opal spun just in time to catch her rival
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as he too turned. As she had foreseen, Max’s hands were
glowing as he summoned an offensive spell. Instantly, the
sharp points of a thick, golden substance that Opal could
only identify as living-growing crystal sprang forth from
his hands. The sparkling crystal was aimed at her. Had it
not been for her precognition, she would not have been
prepared to protect herself.
Fortunately, Opal materialized a thick jade-colored
energy barrier between herself and Max. Most of the spikes
struck the magical barrier hard, biting deeply into it. A
few spikes redirected themselves after they struck the
shield, and hit the floor of the fortress creating large
holes. Opal wanted to run, but she knew the barrier she had
created would disintegrate if she did not use her powers to
maintain it. As she peered through the transparent, magical
wall, Opal could see Max pushing forward, yelling the
entire time. His enraged screams were drowned out by the
noise of his spell, something that sounded like a hundred
horse-drawn wagons speeding across the open plains.
Opal strained to keep the barrier intact, but began to
lose her concentration. Her faltering allowed one tiny
spike to break through, and it nearly stabbed the bare
flesh of her shoulder. There was no other option but to
retreat before it was too late.
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When Opal turned to cast a portal spell, the
unyielding force of Maximilian’s magical spikes began to
drill effortlessly through her shield, and it broke. Opal’s
portal opened just a half a step away. As she shakily
pivoted back to her damaged shield, her eyes widened with
horror. Three small spikes whistled toward her like arrows.
One spike struck her hard, piercing her stomach just below
the navel and the force drove Opal back and through the
portal, only to redeposit her directly behind her
assailant. Too weak to attack, she stood frozen, blood
leaking through her fingers as she covered the wound with
her hands.
***
Zian’s nostrils flared at the sweet scent of blood.
From his position down the hallway, he saw that Opal was
badly wounded. He knew he had been wrong to allow her to go
into battle alone, but he also knew he could not risk
rushing in to attack this powerful boy, as he had done with
the older, slower mages. Such a move could be fatal, and
there are many tasks to complete. Girl, you may not have
defeated the enemy, but you have distracted him perfectly.
Zian crept in low, behind the arrogant young mage. He
was so close he could almost taste Max’s sweat as it dried
on his warm flesh. When there was no chance he could miss
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his target, Zian lunged and sunk his teeth hard into the
young magician’s left arm. Got you.
Zian thrashed his head around, shredding Max’s flesh.
Ravenous, he clenched his frothing jaws down further into
the bone.
Maximilian was no longer in command of his attack. The
magical spikes from his right hand continued springing
forward, drilling into the walls, ceiling, and floor,
damaging the fortress beyond repair.
Zian controlled himself, but only for a second—only
long enough to look at Opal, who was lying face down on the
cold stone floor, gazing up at him with teary eyes. Fluids
so dark they no longer looked like blood pooled under her
stomach and drained into the tiny cracks of the old stone
floor.
“Zian,” she choked out.
The sound of Max’s arm cracking and tearing free
inside Zian’s powerful jaws was nearly as loud as the
building’s rumbling. Max howled in sobbing pain as he spun
around and around, and then abruptly passed out. Zian
tossed the limb to the floor, and watched it roll into a
fissure and disappear.
“Gone,” he grumbled.
“Zian…”
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He could read her pain; it throbbed deeply in her
chest and sent tremors down her kicking legs. The young
mage worked desperately to mend herself, but Zian did not
see the light of a cast spell. Nothing was happening.
BOOM.
Zian jumped over another large crack in the floor,
almost landing on Opal.
“Stir yourself, girl! This building collapses,” he
growled.
“By the bright gods, Zian… I think I’m dying,” Opal
whimpered, nearly swooning.
“I will not let you die, girl. You still have
importance to this world.”
Zian scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder,
glancing back at his enemy, who was motionless on the
floor. The jackalwere wanted to go back and finish him off,
but there was no time. All he could do was growl with
frustration.
Zian sped down the hall in the direction of the High
Council’s meeting room. He planned to exit the fortress
through the hole created by the blast that had nearly hit
him and Opal earlier.
When he reached the opening, he stood at its gaping
mouth and stared down at the rocky ledge below. The
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crumbling foundation’s vibrations rumbled down the side of
the mountain, and made it as unstable as the fortress
itself. Zian felt his nerves falter as he focused on the
debris as it rolled down the mountainside along with loose
dirt and gravel. As much as he wanted to jump, he knew to
traverse such loose terrain would be impossible while
carrying Opal.
He mentally retraced every step he had taken. The
stairs—they are my best means for escape. As he bolted
toward the staircase at the end of the hall, a portion of
the outer wall buckled and created a wave of motion that
flung him into the opposite wall. Zian lost his footing,
dropped to his knees, and skidded several feet, further
tearing the dirty, old pantaloons he wore.
“We’re too late,” Opal whispered with an eerie calm.
The ground shook so hard he was unable to stand, so he
crawled halfway down the hallway, refusing to give up. It
was not until he passed three more rooms that he could get
his footing again.
His ears snapped up as he heard a distant scream
ahead. To his surprise, a mage not much older than Opal
clung to the doorway of the last room in the hall. Even
with Zian’s acute hearing, he could hardly understand the
man’s voice as it called out to him.
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“Thank the gods, another survivor! Come here, beast!”
Zian hated these humans so much they made his skin
crawl. He ignored the man’s cries as he continued to trudge
down the hallway with Opal hanging limply over his
shoulder, but the mage persisted.
“She must live!” the young man shouted as he grabbed
Zian’s furry arm. “The future! The future!”
“Let go of my arm, mage, or I’ll tear open your belly
and dine on your guts,” Zian growled as he continued
forward.
“You’ll never make it down the stairs; my home will
come down upon you before you reach the bottom.”
Zian paused. His instinct told him to drop the girl
and save himself, but he knew such cowardice was not an
option. Swallowing his pride, the jackalwere snarled, “Aid
us, then.”
“Follow me.”
“Follow,” Zian echoed under his breath.
The fortress’s quaking became more and more violent.
It felt as if he was in the belly of a wounded animal
during its death throes; there was little time left. He
entered a room as the mage sat down on the floor next to a
fallen bookcase and overturned chair. White-faced, the
young mage instructed Zian to set Opal down and sit.
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“I’ve been a student here as long as she has, but I
have nowhere near her power. I cannot transport us to
safety, but I can construct a shield around the three of
us, one that should be strong enough to protect us from the
building as it collapses.”
“Should be?” Zian asked. He did not want to trust the
mage.
“I’m betting all of our lives on it. That and much,
much more,” he said with a humorlessly chuckle. “You see,
my mother was an elf. I know what is coming…”
“Help,” Opal moaned as she awoke.
“Relax, girl,” Zian snapped, and then turned to the
student. “You speak of the future, mage. If you wish to see
yours, pray she survives this.”
The mage pulled an old tarnished, bronze scepter out
of his robes and pressed it to his lips, whispering to
himself. As thick jade-colored substance began flowing up
from the floor and formed a tight ball around all three of
them. Inside it, the mage instructed Zian to sit still and
hold Opal tight.
Fist-sized chunks of stone fell from the ceiling of
the small room, striking the mystical shield with little
effect. One after another, more stones rained down upon the
barrier, but it held strong against the crumbling castle…
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until suddenly the fortress lurched to the side and began
shaking harder than Zian had imagined possible.
“Mage, hold the shield!”
Pillars snapped and support beams shattered. Stone
that had held up to ages of stress exploded into dust as
the giant fortress collapsed. Large masses of rock slammed
into the shield, some bouncing off while others slid to the
side. Soon, the bubble that encased them was completely
entombed in rubble. Zian howled in agitation. Although the
feeling of being imprisoned was uncomfortable, he did not
take his eyes off the young mage, not even to blink. The
strain of holding up the shield took its toll on the man.
Zian watched each drop of sweat pour down the magician’s
creased brow.
“Hold the shield!” Zian growled.
The shaking had stopped, and the space around them
grew eerily quiet.
“We have survived!” the mage said, looking up into
Zian’s eyes.
“Quiet. Listen.” Zian’s ears tilted back and forth.
The side of the mountain where the fortress was
situated began to rumble. As the earth shifted, dirt slid,
and the remains of the mages’ home began tumbling down the
mountain. At first the bubble-shaped shield only glided
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slowly. As the debris that was covering the shield broke
free, a tiny section of the bubble near Zian turned
transparent. The mage groaned, desperately concentrating to
keep the barrier intact, but in a flash, Zian could see
what was causing their movement: a massive landslide headed
directly toward a cliff.
“Lords, no!” the mage screamed.
Zian broke eye contact with the boy long enough to
turn and see the cliff as they slid off it. Their bodies
bounced around the claustrophobic bubble as they rolled
down the mountain. In no time, they had become tangled
together. Elbows collided with shoulders, knees with heads.
After witnessing the mage’s foot strike Opal’s chest, Zian
wrapped his arms around her in an attempt to keep her safe.
“Do something!” he growled in pain.
“I cannot hold the spell much longer! I’m too weak!”
“Mage!”
The shield crashed into the rocks at the bottom of the
mountain with such force that it burst, sending the
occupants spinning through the air like rag dolls and
scattering them across the field.
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Chapter 36
Empty
Opal landed clear of the rocks on a soft mound of
moist grass. When she fully awoke, she stayed on her back,
staring at the cloudless blue sky. She had grown numb to
the pain in her stomach and was strangely comfortable lying
there. A distant rumble made her look at the top of the
mountain. The remains of what was once her home burned,
prompting her to move away and seek safety. Opal stood
slowly, tucking her untidy crimson hair behind her ears as
she looked around. Debris from the fortress was everywhere:
stone, chunks of wood, glass from broken windows, even
scrolls from the mages’ rooms. Out of the corner of her
eye, Opal spotted a sparkle of light reflecting off of a
piece of metal: Zian’s plate mail. He’s covered in old
books and the remains of what could be a bookcase. The
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beast man’s tough. I can see him breathing from here…
though he’s clearly unconscious.
When Opal took a step in Zian’s direction, she felt
something sticky between her thighs. She gazed down at the
blood still seeping from the puncture wound in her belly.
Slowly, her eyes traveled further down, finding that the
skirt she wore was soaked in dark blood. With hands that
were equally covered, she reached down between her legs.
So much blood, she thought, as her eyes continued down
her legs. A thick stream of red crept toward her knees.
Opal held her breath and prayed, then yanked up her skirt
completely to reveal a shade of red so dark it was nearly
black.
“No!” Opal’s dry voice cracked.
With the realization of the severity of her wounds
came the pain, a sensation worse than any cramp she had
ever endured. Lightheadedness and nausea overcame her,
throwing her off balance. Please, no, she thought as she
fell over backward. Tears streaked down her face as she lay
convulsing in the grass. When the pain finally peaked, it
did so with a sharp ripping sensation that made her grit
her teeth so hard she thought they might crack.
Opal wanted to die.
***
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She was unsure how much time had passed since the pain
subsided and could not understand why death had not claimed
her. The only thing she was sure of was that the sun was
down and air smelled cool and fresh.
Opal blinked her eyes open and peered down at her
chest. What is this? she thought as she pinched the fabric
of her blouse, now torn into strips and roughly wrapped
around her torso. Homemade bandages?
“Hello?” she said, her mouth dry as a desert.
There was no response. She tried to sit, but the pain
prevented it. After a few deep breaths, Opal rolled to her
side and pushed herself up to sitting. She determined she
was alone, but she still felt compelled to call out again.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
“Zian?”
Nothing.
“Anyone?”
Still nothing.
I’ve failed. I’ve ruined everything. Karn, I need you.
Where are you? Where are you?
She fixated on Kel Tora, and before she knew it, a
swirl of purple radiance formed directly in front of her.
This portal will take me there, but it’s been many summers
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since I’ve been to Kel Tora. Opal tried as hard as she
could but could not clearly recall the layout of the town.
Instead, she focused on a spot outside the town, where her
family had once attended a farmer’s fair. Exhausted, she
rallied just enough strength to crawl across the grass and
through the portal.
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Chapter 37
Another
While he traversed the road like any common wayfarer,
Karn had fallen in with another traveler, a man called
Morwik. Morwik did not speak much. He appeared to be
focused on something so very important that it would not
allow for conversation. Clearly a refugee of some war-torn
land, Morwik wore a high-ranking soldier’s armor but
carried no sign, symbol, or crest. Although Karn asked, and
told him of his own misfortune at the hands of the invading
warlord, Morwik offered no clues to his own origin.
After a day of footsore travel, they came upon stables
in a small village known to Morwik that were willing to
sell them two horses. It being easier to ride, Karn thought
it might allow for better conversation, but Morwik was no
more communicative. After four long days of arduous, fast-
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paced riding, Karn and Morwik reached the outskirts of Kel
Tora. The town was surrounded by a crude wooden wall that
seemed to have been built in a rush, given its poor
craftsmanship and shoddy design. Morwik had explained that
Kel Tora’s monarch, a flashy man often referred to only as
“the duke,” had also built a series of watchtowers a few
leagues to the south. Karn stared curiously at their
outlines in the distance, stark against the bright
afternoon sun.
“The signs of a thorough defense, outside of a town so
beautifully decorated for peace… they feel painfully out of
place,” Karn said to Morwik.
The town of Kel Tora itself was large and nearly
encircled Kel Tora castle. It was much larger than Karn had
imagined. This place, I’ve never seen the likes, Karn
thought. Massive. I hope this duke has an army that matches
its size.
“We best hurry,” Morwik said.
They urged their mounts forward, eager to arrive. As
they drew closer, Morwik spotted a gate and a group of
guards who were busy inspecting travelers as they entered.
“Good, this will work to our advantage. We should be
meeting with the duke in no time,” Morwik said.
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Karn brushed dirt and grass from himself after he
dismounted. Although he was feeling impatient, he took the
reins of his and Morwik’s horses, and waited while his new
ally spoke to the guards.
“Men.” Morwik nodded in military fashion as he
approached them.
“Sir,” one replied.
Karn watched as Morwik spoke words he never would have
expected.
“I am Morwik Cordenz, brother of the King of Weiden’s
Rise. I seek a meeting with the Duke Essex of Kel Tora.”
Morwik raised his hand to display his royal ring.
The guards stared at his hand, then at each other.
“Sir, you bear no royal seal,” the polite guard
responded.
Morwik’s face grew dark. “Blast! I recall now. I
removed Weiden’s Rise’s marks in order to remain incognito
as I traveled,” he said. “And I must have lost the wretched
thing. You must excuse me, the ride here was demanding.
Summon the duke; he knows who I am.”
“You’re going to have to come with us, sir,” the guard
said as he seized Morwik’s arm.
“I swear by the gods, I am one of Weiden’s Rise’s
Royal family!”
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Karn watched as the guards surrounded Morwik. The
desire to fight heated Karn’s blood. The urge was strong,
despite the fact that these were nominally his allies. His
knuckles turned white as his grip on his sword tightened.
But as he prepared to draw his weapon, a hooded figure
bumped into him.
Karn’s attention was now split. He pivoted toward the
hooded man and enough sunlight shone into the hood to
reveal the curves of a feminine mouth. Curious, Karn’s eyes
moved down the figure to a pair of smooth, bare legs that
slipped out from under the hooded cloak with each step. A
woman?
Morwik and the guards were gone, vanished into a sea
of busy townsfolk when Karn was distracted. At that moment,
Karn noticed that his perception seemed askew. His eyes
were slightly out of focus and sounds were muffled. Riding
fatigue, he figured and dismissed the feeling.
“Can I help you?” a new guard asked as Karn
approached.
“I wish to enter the town,” Karn said, glancing
around.
“All we ask is that you state your intent.”
Karn said the first words that came to mind, “seeking
allies.”
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“Seeking allies?” The guard repeated. “Allies for
what?”
“The war.”
“I see. Well, if it’s allies you desire, friend, join
Kel Tora’s army,” the guard suggested. “Next!”
Karn nodded, then led the two horses through the gate.
Once inside, he noticed that the northeastern part of town,
where he had entered, was devoid of homes. It contained
only several barracks and an ironworker’s shop.
He turned northwest, toward an area consisting mostly
of a large garden that stretched directly up to the
castle’s outer wall. He followed the narrow street south,
into the main part of town until overwhelmed by the noise.
There were people everywhere, more people than he could
even dream of counting. He had seen crowds in Weiden’s Rise
before, but never of this magnitude. It appeared as if the
populace of three towns were squeezed into this one. Could
Kel Tora be harboring the survivors of the other fallen
lands? Karn wondered. He pushed on through the town in a
nearly somnolent state of overwhelmed senses. What do I do
now? Karn figured his best bet was to reconnect with the
only person there that he knew.
***
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Deep within Kel Tora’s tall castle sat Duke Essex, the
monarch of Kel Tora. The duke was a strong, handsome man,
draped in the finest garments and jewelry. His good looks
and elegance were matched by his skills in public speaking.
He was often found in town socializing with his people, but
this only frustrated the single female population of Kel
Tora, as the duke refused to select a consort.
Now in his mid-thirties, Duke Essex had recently
celebrated his tenth summer governing the kingdom of Kel
Tora. Well known for his ideals of leadership, honesty, and
integrity, the duke had ushered a new age of prosperity
into Kel Tora. Although he reigned in a time of relative
peace and happiness, the duke was well read in the ways of
war and battle strategy. He had collected every book Kel
Tora had to offer on the topic during his young adulthood,
and his passing hobby had transformed into one of his
leading pastimes. Little did he know he would get to put
his studies to use on a grand scale.
Eight of the duke’s most trusted guards stood careful
watch over him in his throne room. Two flanked him while
two more guarded the main door and another pair watched
over the side entrance. The last two guards stood at the
ready on either side of the room. The sounds of birds
chirping flitted in through an open window in the throne
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room, and if it were not for their cheery song, the room
would have been painfully silent.
The large throne room was decorated with the finest
collection of art in the region. Duke Essex had long been
considered one of the continent’s biggest collectors. The
paintings he owned depicted the myth and history of the
land. He stood now staring at one of the paintings. Each
time he looked, he swore he found a new detail or nuance
he’d never seen before. His favorite painting depicted a
tournament with seven knights sword fighting.
“The Seven Swords of Chaos Legend,” the duke remarked
to his advisor, General Leward, who stood beside him.
“Yes, sir,” General Leward responded as he suppressed
a yawn.
General Leward was the duke’s oldest and most trusted
friend—a tall, skinny man with blonde hair nearly as light
as the duke’s. They had met long ago as students of
Illyia’s master swordsman, Kade. Although separated in age
by several summers, their complementary skills had them
partnered in many training exercises. They had soon become
close friends, and when the duke was honored as monarch of
Kel Tora, he had insisted his old friend become his chief
military advisor.
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“I never put much faith in that myth,” Duke Essex
said.
“Why not? You’ve seen proof the swords exist.”
“Oh, I agree the swords exist and they are powerful
weapons, but cursed? I highly doubt that. The only metal I
know of that can corrupt a man is gold,” the duke
explained.
“You may be right,” General Leward allowed.
“Now this painting over here,” Duke Essex said as he
walked to another painting. “This is a painting of the
mermaids that live in the seas surrounding our lands. It
explains why no man has successfully sailed from continent
to continent.”
“I don’t understand, sir,” said Leward.
“Well, the mermaids are said to be so beautiful that
no man can resist them—”
“Now, I highly doubt that,” General Leward laughed.
“No woman will be the death of me.”
As the duke turned to face General Leward, his red,
flamboyant cape snapped like a whip. “You’ll never see me
sailing that deep into the ocean,” he said with a chuckle.
“I always enjoyed sailing. Perhaps one day I’ll prove
you wrong and reach the deepest oceans,” General Leward
replied.
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“By all means do, old friend,” Duke Essex chuckled as
he patted General Leward’s shoulder.
The next canvas depicted a man surrounded by blue
light with fire burning the trees around him. Its artistic
style was rough, with brush strokes that were much more
savage than the other works in the collection.
“That one…” The duke smiled. “That one was a gift from
one of our new elven friends. How could I not accept such a
rarity, General?”
“It’s very different than your normal choices, sir.”
“Not at all. The painter told me this depicts a legend
of her people, like many of these other paintings represent
such tales among ours.” The duke waved his hand around the
room before sitting down. “Did you know that most elves
believe a terrible battle is coming? One so massive and so
devastating that it’s destined to change the world as we
know it? Perhaps they are right. Perhaps that time is now.”
A harried looking man-at-arms rushed into the room.
“Sir, dreadful news!” he stated.
“Approach.”
“We’ve received a relay of news from our scouts that
Joa’Ta has fallen. Few survivors have been scattered.”
Duke Essex and Leward exchanged grim glances. “Sad
tidings,” murmured the duke, his eyes stinging with tears.
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Not only was Kel Tora close allies with both Weiden’s Rise
and Joa’ta, but he was also personal friends with both
their monarchs.
Frustrated that others fought and died protecting
Illyia in the south while he sat idle in the north, the
duke sighed as he slouched back in his chair. As he dwelled
on an uncertain future, the Captain of Kel Tora’s Guard
entered the room with two of his men.
“Captain, do you have any information for me regarding
the abnormal lights that were seen in the forest just
outside of town several nights ago?”
“Yes, sir, the rangers you sent into the forest have
reported all clear. No signs of fire. If there were spies
in the woods, they left no trace of their existence.”
“Then I ask, what caused that bright glow?” The duke’s
voice was filled with tired frustration.
“May I speak openly, sir?” the captain asked.
Duke Essex waved his hand, a signal for the man to
speak quickly.
“In my opinion, sir, it may have been the woman that
we discovered in the forest. It may be wise to wake her
and—”
“She’s ill. We’ll grant her time to heal and give her
proper hospitality until she’s well enough to answer our
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questions.” The duke rubbed his face. “I know what you’re
implying, and besides, have you ever met a mage? Let alone
one that young, Captain? I have not.”
“Understood, sir.” The captain smirked.
“Mmm. Now, have you brought me any other news?”
“A wayfarer who appeared at the gate was jailed not
long ago. He claimed to be part of Weiden’s Rise’s royal
family yet bears no mark or proof.”
Duke Essex perked up and pushed forward in his seat.
“Eh? Describe him.”
The captain described the man as tall with dark hair
and skin and blue eyes.
“Blue eyes, you say?” Duke Essex repeated.
“Yes, sir.”
“Bring him to me. There’s an off chance he is who he
claims to be.”
“Right away, sir.” The guards exited, accompanied by
General Leward.
The duke turned his attention to a sword rack that
hung on the wall. The rack contained five brilliant swords,
Kel Tora’s most recent treasure. Few knew of their legend,
and even less knew of their existence in Kel Tora. They
were a guarded secret and the duke harbored the
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uncomfortable knowledge that at least one of these special
swords was now in the hands of the enemy warlord.
It was not long ago—only a week after its fall—that
one of Weiden’s Rise’s elite knights had arrived in Kel
Tora bearing the seal of their king and these five swords.
Morwik entrusted them to me; he knew I would keep them
safe.
As a collector himself, it had been obvious to him
that procuring these swords had become Morwik’s passion. It
makes perfect sense that Morwik would come to Kel Tora—not
only to fortify our alliance, but also to confirm that
these treasures arrived safely.
A messenger hastened in. “Sir, the captain of the
guard will arrive soon with the two men.”
“Two men?”
“Yes, sir, the man who claimed to be part of Weiden’s
Rise’s royal family and his associate.”
“In our current situation, we should not be having
such security problems.”
“Yes, sir.”
Moments later, the captain of the guard entered the
throne room and bowed deeply. Duke Essex impatiently waved
him in. Additional guards ushered in the two prisoners, one
struggling the entire way while the other walked calmly.
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Duke Essex recognized the stressed man instantly.
“Blessed God of the harvest!” he exclaimed, as his heart
nearly jumped out of his chest. “Morwik! Release him now!”
The captain of the guard sheepishly cut the ropes
binding Morwik’s wrists and then nodded to the man, a
gesture of respect.
“Thank you, my friend,” Morwik said, rubbing his hands
together to get the circulation going.
“Is this your man, Morwik?” Duke Essex pointed at
Karn.
“Indeed he is,” Morwik replied. “As it turns out, Karn
here is one of my brother’s finest officers.”
“Morwik, I’m so relieved that you are alive,” Duke
Essex said as the guards freed Karn. “I’m sorry to say I
don’t recognize your comrade.”
“Sir, this is Karn, Captain in Weiden’s Rise first
cavalry. He led one of our cavalry divisions when it
protected the citizens’ escape from town. He’s the reason
there were so many survivors from our lands,” Morwik
explained.
Karn bowed as Morwik and the duke spoke.
“Morwik’s friend Karn, you are my friend now as well.
Moreover, anyone who would risk his life to save the lives
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of innocents is fully welcome in my home,” Duke Essex
stated as he rose from his seat.
Karn cleared his throat. “Thank you, sir.”
“Why did you imprison these men?” The duke turned his
attention to the Captain of the Guard.
The captain blinked. “His claim to be Weiden’s Rise
royalty could not be confirmed. We had no choice but to
consider him a spy.”
“I daresay one can’t be too careful when confronted
with such claims. I’m sorry, General Cordenz.” The duke
looked sharply at the hapless guardsman, who slipped out of
the room as unobtrusively as possible.
Morwik approached Duke Essex with his hand
outstretched. “Please, sir, call me Morwik. General Cordenz
died when Weiden’s Rise fell.”
Duke Essex nodded; he truly understood his old ally’s
words.
“My lord, I came here to seek your aid against the
warlord,” Karn interjected. “We need to rally the northern
lands against him.”
“Agreed! Gentlemen, now that we’re going to serve
together, I insist you honor me by joining Kel Tora as
ranking officers.” He paused. “I need a moment of privacy
with my guests. Please excuse us.”
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Duke Essex waited patiently for all of the guards to
file out of his throne room before he continued. “I
received your package,” he whispered as he approached
Morwik and Karn.
“I noticed the moment I entered the room.” Morwik
smiled. “Thank the gods. Five long summer cycles of
questing—hard work I feared was lost.”
“Only my generals and personal guards know these
swords exist here.”
“You have my highest gratitude for keeping the
treasures of Weiden’s Rise safe.”
“I must admit, they are phenomenal,” Duke Essex said,
as he ran his hand across the closest sword’s hilt.
“Phenomenal not only in looks, but also in the immense
power they hold. Have you felt it—a tingle in the palm of
your hand when you grip the hilt?” Morwik pointed to the
swords.
“If these swords are that powerful, then perhaps we
should use them against Mustaffa,” Karn suggested.
“Indeed yes, Karn.” Duke Essex smiled, filled with a
new energy. “We could distribute them among the three of us
and my highest ranking generals. Imagine the advantage
these swords could give us against the enemy!”
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“I’m not certain if that’s a wise idea,” Morwik said.
“I’m concerned about the curse that’s attached to their
legend.”
Essex laughed. “Fear not, Morwik. There’s no curse!
They could not be in safer hands. Speaking of hands, which
one would you like to carry at your side?”
Morwik and Karn stared at the swords a second before
they each pointed at the one they preferred.
“Good choices, my friends.”
“And you, my lord?” Morwik asked, as he tested his new
sword’s balance.
Duke Essex reached out and took the largest sword by
its hilt, lifted it, and then swung it over his head.
“Perfection,” he declared. “It feels at home in my hand.”
He laughed again. “This calls for a celebration.”
“I don’t understand.” Karn frowned.
“Why, an informal gathering to announce my two newest
generals, of course. I’ll invite my highest-ranking
officers to the great hall tonight, and we shall toast to a
new beginning. Tomorrow the sun rises on a new Kel Tora,
one that will defeat Mustaffa!”
The duke could see it in their eyes. His charismatic
voice had stoked a fire in Morwik and Karn.
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Chapter 38
Her
That night, the Duke of Kel Tora hosted a small,
casual gathering inside the castle’s great hall, a place
normally set aside for political and military meetings.
Tonight it roared with the sounds of merriment and song.
Every available high-ranking officer in Kel Tora’s army
attended to pay proper respect to Morwik and Karn.
After a quick announcement of Kel Tora’s two newest
officers, the festivities began. Karn and Morwik sat at a
small table in the corner. The day had progressed quickly
and had left them both with the sensation that time was
flying by.
“Generals in Kel Tora’s army,” Morwik repeated as he
twisted the ring the duke had given him to signify his new
rank. “My brother would—”
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“Sir, why didn’t you say anything on the road?” Karn
interrupted.
“What?” Morwik looked up from his ring.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were the king’s brother?”
Karn impressed. “I would’ve liked to have known that
sooner.”
“You didn’t recognize me?”
“No—”
“No one does anymore.” Morwik chuckled to himself. “I
was away so long, people forgot about me.”
“So you didn’t tell me to protect yourself?” Karn
asked. “Was that why?”
“What do you think?”
He was smart to do so. We are at war. But even gone as
long as he says he was, I should’ve remembered him.
“Was my decision wise?” Morwik asked.
“Yes, sir, it was. And I appreciate the promotion, but
I’m a soldier, not a leader. I—we should be preparing for
war, not wasting time celebrating,” Karn protested.
“Relax, take a moment for yourself.” Morwik took
another drink. “As you can plainly see, I certainly plan
to.”
Karn saw no reason not to follow suit.
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“The duke was right. With you here, many of Weiden’s
Rise’s refugees will take up arms. All you have to do is
talk to them.”
“Hard work, best suited for the diplomats,” Morwik
mumbled and then nodded over the rim of his mug.
Karn followed his gaze to a lissome, elven dancer who
undulated through the crowd. Her costume consisted of a
tiny, purple silk wrap around her chest and a skirt made of
a dozen colorful veils. As she walked, the torchlight
caressed her body and made her skin sparkle with every
little bounce of her breasts.
It’s as if the gods themselves sculpted her, Karn
thought. Her hair, I’ve never seen the likes—truly exotic:
light yellow-green. It complements her pale violet eyes. As
she drew close enough to speak to Karn, the scent of wild
flowers blew over and tantalizing him.
“Greetings, gentlemen. My name is Tala. Duke Essex
sent me to entertain you.” She paused and looked into each
of their eyes in turn. “His most very special guests.”
Tala’s sultry voice made Karn’s heart skip a beat.
“Remind me to thank him later,” Karn said under his
breath to Morwik.
Tala bent over in front of Karn and gave him a clear
view of her deliciously rounded breasts. Then, with a
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smooth, deliberate motion, she placed her hands on his
knees and leaned in to brush her cheek against his.
“You can thank me later, hero,” she whispered into his
ear.
There was a spark of blue light, and he blinked
against it as a tingle of energy shot through his legs
where she leaned against them. The tingling flowed through
his body, up to his heart. What’s this, this thing that
feels like it’s drilling into my very being-my soul? I
feel… I feel… When it passed, Karn looked to Morwik for his
reaction, but it was obvious that he had not notice
anything amiss.
“I’m empty. Go get me another mug, lovely one,” Morwik
ordered her.
“If that’s your pleasure,” Tala replied without
breaking eye contact with Karn.
“It is.”
Tala took Morwik’s mug from his shaky hand with a wink
and a smile, and then sauntered off into the crowd, her
hips rolling.
“Did you see that flash? That… What the hell? What’s
happening here?” Karn rattled off but Morwik had drifted
off with the motion of the room.
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As Karn caught his breath, a new sensation began as a
slight pain in the bridge of his nose, then moved on to a
deep throb in his eyes sockets. The feeling quickly
developed into the sensation of a dozen burning daggers
poking into his brain. The sensation peaked and then
suddenly disappeared, and with it went all the memories of
the strange tingle and the flash of light he had just felt.
“You say something, Karn?”
“Oh. Yes, sir, she reminds me of someone I met before,
I swear it,” Karn replied as he rubbed his eyes.
“Lucky you then, I say. She’s very attractive, but
Mustaffa’s lifeblood on my sword is the only thing I
desire,” Morwik said in a loud voice, pounding his fist on
the table, spilling the remainder of the ale in Karn’s mug.
Karn looked at him, surprised. I don’t know you well,
Morwik, but I know this, yours is a temper to be feared.
“Look, Karn—the duke,” Morwik said with a nod in
Essex’s direction.
Karn jumped up from his seat and politely bowed.
Morwik followed but more slowly, his hand on the back of
his chair for balance.
“Karn, Morwik. You know there’s a time for bowing, and
this is not it,” the duke said with a wave of his hand.
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“My lord,” said Karn. “Forgive my curiosity, but I
must ask. Did you order an elven girl to dance for us?”
“Elves… A summer ago they would not have set foot in
the castle and they only came into town once in a great
while. The invitation was always open, mind you, but they
never accepted. Now look at them. More elves leave the
forest to seek refuge within my kingdom each day. Some have
even become soldiers in my army.”
“So you did send her?”
“Oh, yes. Beautiful isn’t she? Of course, all elven
women are beautiful,” he said laughing. “Tala has been a
dancer in my court since she came to Kel Tora… about six
months ago, I’d say.”
At that moment, Tala appeared, carrying two mugs of
ale. She slid by the duke, brushing herself against him as
she passed.
“Be wary of this one. She’s wild, untamed,” Duke Essex
said good naturedly. “Enjoy your drinks.”
With a quick turn and snap of his cape, he was gone,
back to mingle with the other partygoers. Morwik moved
unsteadily. “I must excuse myself for the night and find a
room that spins less than this one.”
Snatching up both mugs, Morwik bowed to the beautiful
elf woman and departed. Karn watched Morwik stumble through
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the room toward the exit. All this noise… Perhaps, Morwik
has the right idea. He rubbed his eyes and the bridge of
his nose.
“Are you leaving now too?” Tala asked, her voice
filled with disappointment.
“I believe so.” Karn stretched. “I need rest.”
“Then we can leave together.” Tala smiled and gazed
deep into his eyes.
Taken aback, Karn raised his hands as if to physically
hold her back.
“I understand Duke Essex paid you to entertain me,
but your dancing was enough. Go enjoy the remainder of the
party.”
“I was not paid,” Tala said, tossing her hair.
“Excuse me?”
“I was not paid to entertain you. I volunteered.” Tala
moved in close and touched his chest.
“Why?” Karn asked.
“Even the sprawling city of Kel Tora gets dull. I
heard that you were new and exciting.”
“Thanks, but I cannot—” Karn began, taking a step
back.
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“Cannot what? Go for a short walk with a girl who
would hear a tale or two of the outside world?” Tala cocked
her head to the side. “Please?”
She’s stunning. And what harm would it do to simply
talk. “Very well,” Karn acquiesced.
Tala took his hand and led him quickly through the
castle to the courtyard. When the cool fall air met his
bare arms, he shivered.
“Are you cold?” Tala asked sweetly. “It was very warm
inside, with all the guests and the roaring fires.”
Karn stole a glimpse of her glistening tan skin, much
of which was visible. “I’m fine. You?”
“Cold? Me? Not at all,” she answered, stopping to pull
her sweat-damped, yellow-green hair back to reveal her
pointed ears. “You don’t know much about elves do you?”
“I’m ashamed to say that I don’t,” Karn admitted.
“Did you know we age differently than humans do?” she
asked strolling toward the center of the courtyard.
Karn shook his head. I should know more. Elves no
longer hide in the forests. They’ve become a prominent
force in our lands, no longer a mystery.
“Well, we do,” she continued as she skipped ahead.
“During childhood and adolescence, we mature quickly, but
afterward, during early adulthood, we slow down.”
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“So, how many summers are you?” Karn asked hesitantly.
“In human summers?” she questioned without looking
back.
“I guess.”
“Sixteen, nearly seventeen.” Tala looked back at him.
Karn stopped dead in his tracks. “That young?”
Tala walked back to him and hooked her arm around his.
She nudged him to walk was she spoke, and his feet began to
shuffle forward. “Elves also see farther and better in the
dark.”
“No wonder your people won the war against the lizard
men.”
Tala pointed to a moonlit stretch of castle wall where
a large fallen tree lay. They walked in silence toward the
wall and then sat down on the trunk of the tree. Karn drew
a deep breath and wiped his brow. He was much more
comfortable now that he was sitting outside, away from the
commotion, and his nervousness had passed. Tala was easy to
talk to—friendly, charming, and beautiful. They sat,
chatting about the stars and their designs in the sky until
they were interrupted by two guards on a shift change.
“Tala? That you?” one guard called out.
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Tala dropped her eyes to the ground and kept quiet. As
the guards drew closer, Karn sensed a deep tension in the
air.
“Tala, what’s wrong? What? Not talking to me anymore?”
The guard kicked her foot lightly.
“Go away, Eric,” Tala stated coldly.
“So, Tala, is this tonight’s job?” Eric pointed to
Karn.
“No!” Tala replied.
“Do you two have posts you should be guarding?” Karn
interrupted.
“Listen to him,” the other guard murmured to his
friend.
“Don’t make us bleed you. Now, leave…” Eric ordered,
as he reached for her wrist. “Me and Tala here have some
unfinished business.”
“I don’t think Duke Essex would be pleased if he found
your posts unmanned,” Karn stated as he stood and placed
his hand on his sword.
Unconsciously, Karn tapped the royal ring the duke had
given him against the hilt of his sword. One guard
completely ignored the chime, but the other looked directly
at it.
“Eric—” the observant guard called to his friend.
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“Take care of this moron for me,” Eric directed,
giving Tala a look that Karn knew meant trouble.
“Please, don’t,” Tala whimpered.
“Eric, you’re making a big—” the other guard begged,
but before he could finish his sentence, Karn brandished a
dagger, and had it to Eric’s throat. With his other hand,
he drew his sword and pointed at the other guard.
“Look at my hand! Do you see the ring?” Karn asked.
“Y-yes.” Eric’s voice shook.
“Duke Essex awarded me that ring this very afternoon,”
Karn continued. “Do you know what it means?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Then go to your damned posts now!” Karn yelled.
Roused by the noise, dogs from town began to bark and
guards rushed from their assigned posts. Eric and his
friend quickly bowed and ran off to their posts. Karn let
out a frustrated grunt, turning to Tala as five new guards
approached. He quickly dismissed them with an order and a
flash of the royal ring.
“Look”—he returned his attention to Tala—“it’s late.
Go home.”
“Home? No. I’ll slumber in the forest tonight,” Tala
replied meekly.
“In the forest?” Karn repeated, surprised. “Alone?”
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Tala smiled and pointed at her ears again.
***
Later that night, Karn lay in a warm, soft bed. Kel
Tora Castle’s guest bedrooms were furnished better than any
place he had ever stayed before. The room had a tub, two
tables, a full-size mirror, an armoire, and two queen-sized
beds fitted with the best silk sheets in the region.
Hanging on the walls were tapestries that seemed to be as
old as the castle itself. Their colors had faded and were
somewhat obscured by a thin coating of dust, but they
looked exquisite nonetheless. Karn had never seen so much
art before arriving in Kel Tora. It was becoming obvious
that the duke had both good taste and the coin to afford
his hobby.
When Karn rolled over to extinguish the last candle in
the room, he caught a glimpse of the body of the young
woman he had invited to share his room, the soft amber
candlelight cascading over her supple curves.
“Thank you,” Tala whispered.
“You’re welcome,” he replied sleepily.
“Had you not been there to protect me, Eric would’ve
hurt me again.”
“Hurt you?”
“He… he forced himself on me.”
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Her words stabbed at his heart. After a deep breath,
Karn asked, “Were you raped?”
“Yes.” Her voice quivered. “Shortly after I made Kel
Tora my home.”
“Did you report this crime to Duke Essex or his
officers?”
“No. Humans don’t want to be bothered by the concerns
of elves.”
“The duke—”
“It was before I met Duke Essex,” she explained as she
began to cry.
“How-how did this happen?” Karn feared the answer as
much as he needed to hear it.
Tala wept loudly. He could feel her body shaking under
the sheets. I shouldn’t have asked.
“Tala, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”
“It’s… not your… fault,” she spit out between sobs.
After a time, she calmed down, then told Karn the
story. “I made the mistake of bathing in one of the
fountains the royal garden. It was early one morning, and I
didn’t think I would get caught, so I disrobed and jumped
in. I dunked my head under the water and when I came back
up, I saw the duke standing on his balcony. He must’ve been
watching me for a while, because by the time I got dressed,
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the guards were there. The captain of the guard and two
others took me straight to prison. They said it was for
trespassing and defiling the royal gardens.”
Tala paused, frowning.
“I was only supposed to be in the prison for two
days,” she went on. “Toward the end of the second day, Eric
was on guard duty. That night he beat me, and after that… I
screamed and tried to fight him, but no one came to help
me. I hoped someone would set me free the next day, but no
one did. There was even a time that I feared they wouldn’t
feed me. When a guard finally brought me a meal, I begged
him to let me out, but he ignored me.” Tala told her story
softly.
Karn breathed, “those bastards.”
“Once again, that filth Eric came on duty and shortly
afterward, he tried his best to physically ruin me. He told
me that I might as well give in, because he was going to
see to it that I never got out.”
Tala began crying again. Unsure what else to do, Karn
got out of bed and walked over to her. He knelt down beside
her and held her hand in both of his. “How long did this
continue?” Karn asked.
“Three days. I found out later that Duke Essex had
inquired about me and that’s why I was finally set free.”
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“Why did you stay in Kel Tora?”
“Duke Essex offered me a job. Anyway, I will not let
what happened destroy my new life.”
“Well, we have to do something,” Karn said angrily.
“Tomorrow, during my meeting, I’ll inform him. I’ll see
that—”
“No! This is not your problem; it’s mine.”
“Problem? This must be taken care of.” Karn squeezed
her hand. “Eric, that bastard, must pay for his crimes.”
“He will,” Tala said as she pulled her hand from his.
“You have a war to worry about; please get some rest.”
Tala stared deeply into his eyes for a few seconds,
and then leaned over and blew out the last candle. After a
few calming breaths, Karn returned to his bed. He tossed in
his sheets, and finally stilled, listening for hints to
whether or not she was still crying. All he could hear was
the sound of the wind as it blew through the cracks of one
of the partially open windows.
Karn peered across the dark room, he could just barely
make out the details of her face. Her eyes were closed and
her lips puckered in a pouting shape. It’s hard to believe
someone would want to hurt you. How could one of Kel Tora’s
men defile such a precious girl? The mere thought enraged
and left him filled with the need to do something. As he
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opened his mouth to ask her if he could comfort her, Tala
spoke.
“I’ll be fine, Karn.”
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Chapter 39
Misconception
As Karn fled, shoulder to shoulder with the twenty odd
soldiers under his command, he realized his folly. He had
grown overconfident over the past few days and allowed
himself to become complacent. He had given the enemy time
to send a fake caravan into his trap and set their own
ambush.
“Run! Hurry! To the trees!” Karn shouted as he
sprinted toward the tree line.
“They’re going to cut us down! Dark elves are the best
archers in the lands,” one of the elves working in Kel
Tora’s service shouted.
Karn ordered his men to scatter as they raced back to
safety. Over his shoulder, he watched the dark elf archers
raise their bows in unison, their slow movements displaying
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an eerie patience. He could not hear the arrows as they
launched into the sky, but their presence high above looked
like a rolling storm cloud—one that he knew would soon rain
down upon him.
“Run!”
Three and a half days ago, Karn had gotten his wish:
Duke Essex had granted him a group of twenty-five soldiers
and five elven rangers to raid the enemy’s supply lines.
Their primary objective was to slow down Mustaffa in order
to give Maulen and Kel Tora more time to train their troops
and to prepare for the coming battles.
First, Karn chartered the fastest sailboats in Kel
Tora’s small harbor, and then he pointed them southeast.
Once they had inserted themselves behind the enemy lines,
Karn’s squad’s first foray was highly successful. Before
the day was out, the squad had raided two forward scouting
crews that were traveling north, in the direction of
Maulen. One crew carried supplies: grain and rice—
necessities for any army.
But that was then. Now, Karn wondered how he could
have been so stupid. Why didn’t I move the squad away from
here? Why does this location feel like the best spot to
fish for more supply groups to slaughter?
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A few moments ago, what looked like an easy target had
suddenly transformed before his eyes. They had cast aside
their long riding cloaks and exposed the weapons and armor
of trained archers. The image froze in his head; this
mistake could be his last.
The sound of armor colliding with the moist earth
brought him back to the present. Seven of his men dropped
before his eyes. Karn was so close to the trees he could
smell their sweet fragrance. I must reach the trees. I must
live through this blunder, fight again, succeed again. But
victory was not all that mattered. Karn’s honor would not
allow him to abandon his men.
With a grunt and growl, Karn turned back into the
barrage of arrows and latched onto the arm of a wounded
soldier. As he dragged the man toward the edge of the
forest, a speeding arrow grazed his temple. The shock of
the cut stole Karn’s breath. Dazed, he reached up to the
wound in time for it to peel open.
“Do not falter!” a soldier shouted from the tree line.
Without warning, one of Kel Tora’s officers, a man
named Damas, emerged from the tree line and grabbed the
wounded soldier’s other arm to help Karn get him to safety.
“Thank you.” Karn nodded to Damas.
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As the rain of arrows slowly tapered off, another
arrow struck Karn just before he reached the sanctuary of
the trees. It drove straight through his chain mail into
his right shoulder.
The pain was excruciating, causing Karn’s eyes to
water and dropping him to his knees. He howled as he fell
first to his hands, then went completely prone in the tall
grass. Damas handed the wounded soldier off to two other
men in the raiding party and without hesitation ventured
back to help Karn. As Damas reached him, Karn realized the
arrow barrage had ceased.
“Can you stand, sir?” Damas asked as he placed an arm
under Karn’s good shoulder to support his weight.
“Yes,” he grunted through clenched teeth.
Tala, who had hid in the forest the entire time, leapt
out from behind a thick tree trunk to offer Karn additional
aid. He looked at her, then glanced back at the dark elves,
who had begun a full-scale charge. This is the exact thing
I had hoped to avoid. Why did I give in to her persistence?
“I’ll be okay, Damas, just get out of here!” Karn
commanded as he tried to stand tall.
“What shall we do?” Damas’s face was pale, but his
voice remained steady.
“Remember what I told you to do if we were overcome?”
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The soldier stared at the elves as they drew closer.
“Damas! There’s no time for this! Do you remember?”
Karn screamed.
“Split up,” he answered quietly.
“Yes, regroup in two days. Now go!”
Damas rushed off toward the other soldiers, relaying
the message as he moved. Karn could only partially hear his
words, but he knew they relayed his orders. Damas is a good
officer.
“Karn!” Tala shouted, tugging on his injured right arm
to get his attention.
The sudden movement shot an agonizing wave of pain
down his arm. He grunted through the throbbing and looked
at Tala, who was waiting anxiously.
“We have to go now!” she urged.
Her hand glided down from his arm to his wrist, where
she gently clasped his hand. After another quick tug she
began to run away from the other Kel Tora soldiers. Karn
watched until the soldiers under his command had all
disappeared and then began to follow Tala.
I shouldn’t have let her come, he thought as he ran as
fast as his body would let him, but Tala’s lead continued
to grow. She bounds gracefully across the uneven terrain
like a fawn, he thought as he watched her enviously. Only
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an elf could run so lithely. Then came a much more
sickening realization. If she can run so quickly and
quietly, then so can the dark elves chasing us.
“Tala, keep running!” he shouted.
Tala veered off to the right, alongside a ridge that
ran over the top of a flood plain twenty-five or thirty
feet down. Karn tried to keep up with her, but he had to
slow down to catch his breath. Sweat poured down into his
eyes and he closed them to wipe his brow. When he reopened
them, the world around him began to toss back and forth
like a boat on rough seas. With each step, the world spun
quicker and quicker. Colors swirled together, and grass
that was once green turned blue and brown. He looked back
to see if the dark elves were close behind, but the act of
twisting around caused him to lose his balance and stumble.
Blind to his surroundings, he staggered over the ledge.
It felt like he fell forever, and when he landed, it
was abrupt and hard. He touched down face-first only ten
feet from the water. The crash, like a punch in the gut,
forced a wheezing cough out. Overwhelmed by his injuries,
his body momentarily shut down.
***
Tala’s acute hearing alerted her to Karn’s sudden
absence. She stopped and twisted around to look for him.
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Where is he? she thought. Trees were all she could see. The
dark elves are not far behind us. Could they have caught
Karn? Was that what I heard? Was that his dying breath? Her
heart fluttered as her mind conjured the images of Karn’s
possible death.
A twig snapped and Tala reacted instantly. She jumped
up to a low branch on a still-leafy tree, pulled herself
up, and then climbed into the foliage. She prayed that it
was thick enough to hide her light frame.
From her new vantage point, she spotted Karn lying
motionless near the stream below. Without thinking, she
leapt back to the ground and slid down the dirt ridge
toward the flood plain. Once she reached it, she sprinted
to Karn’s side.
“Karn?” she called out as she shook him.
He responded with a deep, guttural moan.
“Thank the gods.”
Although relieved that he was still alive, Tala knew
they would both be dead in moments unless she did something
quickly. So she grabbed his armor by the shoulders and
started to drag him upward to the ridge.
“Come on,” she huffed. “You humans… always insist on
wearing the heaviest armor.”
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She hid Karn in a shallow hollow of the ridge and
glanced around. It would not take a skilled tracker to
trace the marks that Karn left as he tumbled down the hill.
They’ll expect a body. Damn. She fumbled with the strap
that fastened Karn’s shield to his back, climbing on top of
him. She barely cleared the low ceiling of the shallow
cavelike opening with her head.
Tala held her breath. This is taking too much time.
Hurriedly, she pulled Karn into a seated position, took his
shield off, and threw it carelessly to the side.
From the moment she saw him lying near the water,
struck by an enemy arrow, she knew exactly what she had to
do. With both hands, she tugged firmly on his chest armor;
she hoped to remove it without wasting any more time
unhooking it. When the chain mail finally slipped off
Karn’s chest, the arrow was torn out of its shallow home in
his flesh and fell to the ground behind him.
Stupid. How could I be so stupid? Her grip loosened
and Tala watched Karn fall back to the ground, as lifeless
as a ragdoll. She gasped, suddenly remembering to breathe.
There’s no time, she told herself, no time to apologize or
worry.
Tala pulled Karn’s armor over her leather top, which
was nearly the same color as the light leather armor he
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wore. She whispered an old elven prayer and stepped out
from under the stony overhang, looking nervously up toward
the ridge. As she snatched up Karn’s shield, Tala felt a
moment of slight relief. You’ve faced worse than this, she
reflected as she tucked her long yellow-green hair under
the armor and strapped on his shield.
“How do I look?” she whispered to Karn and covered up
her ears with loose hair. “I can do this.”
Raised during the elf and lizard men wars, Tala knew
how to cover her trail. While walking carefully backward
toward the stream, she brushed loose dirt over the tracks
she had made. Not far from the water, Tala spotted the
broken end of the arrow that had struck Karn. She snatched
it up. Once the tracks were gone, she stole one last look
at the ridge. No sign of the enemy. Time to go.
Slowly, Tala waded into the water. It was colder than
she expected; the chill punched her in the stomach with its
abruptness. She would have liked to jump right out of the
water, but she knew she couldn’t; she would have to suffer
it if she wanted to survive.
Waist deep in the water, Tala jammed the broken arrow
end into the chain links of the armor over her shoulder and
laid herself on top of the water, arms outstretched, face
down.
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After a few seconds of stillness, Tala carefully
peeked out of the water just enough to breathe. The river’s
cold water lapped at her long elven ears, yet she could
faintly hear the chatter of the dark elves in the distance.
“—water, sir!” one of the dark elves said.
“Dead?” another elf answered with stiff authority.
“Yes, sir, floating face-first.”
“Was he hit?”
“Arrow to the shoulder.”
“That makes seven. These poison tipped arrows…” the
dark elf commander boasted.
“Should we—”
“Deprive some animal of a good meal? No. Leave him.”
The weight of the armor had finally become too much
for Tala to bear. She tried to keep afloat, but could not
use her arms and legs to tread water or the masquerade
would be ruined. She drew a deep breath before she
completely sunk. A strong current continued to push her
forward even after she struck the bottom. The icy water
numbed her hands as she tried to unhook the chain mail.
Suddenly, the sobering realization that she was going to
drown entered her thoughts. Then, her body collided with
something hard, and what little air that remaining in her
lungs was forced out. She turned over in the water and saw
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the object she had crashed into—a downed tree lying half in
the stream. Tala flailed around, in search of something to
grab on to. Her right hand hooked on to a thick branch, and
with every ounce of strength, she yanked herself up out of
the water.
Tala’s lungs worked overtime as she pulled herself to
the shore and crawled out of the water. She wanted to
collapse, but she slowly built up the willpower to stand.
“Dark elves,” Tala coughed. “Hate them.”
Exhausted, Tala returned to Karn. She dropped his
armor and shield at his feet. Tala gazed at his chain mail
and remembered his wound. He was struck by one of the
arrows… and it was poisoned.
Tala prepared for the worst, but was relieved to find
only a small puncture wound in his back. After gently
rolling Karn to his side, she crawled out of the shallow
cave that sheltered them.
Poison… Tala knew exactly which kind the dark elves
had used. It was a natural toxin found in the venom sacks
of the orange-backed toad. For dozens of summers, the dark
elves had used a less potent version of this exact poison
to hunt large prey. Almost ten summers ago, a group of dark
elves had employed the orange-backed toad’s venom to
contaminate Tala’s tribe’s water supply. At full strength,
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the poison debilitated its target with severe fevers that
quickly led to paranoia and delirium, and was followed by
death. Many elves in her tribe fell victim to the
contaminated water before an antidote was discovered—among
those who died were her father and brother.
It was a time in her life Tala would not soon forget.
Every detail was burned in her mind, from the smell of the
dead, to the look of hopeful concern on the faces of her
tribe’s elders when they ordered five hunters into the deep
swamps to observe the toads. Tala remembered two whole days
passing before the hunters returned with good news: the
toads had a natural enemy—the common water snake. Although
the water snake’s venom was not harmful to humans or elves,
it incapacitated the toads long enough for the snakes to
eat them. After the elders heard the hunters’ observations,
they sent them out immediately to catch water snakes.
Tala recalled the day the hunters returned with the
snakes. Each man carried a leather bag of snakes into her
village. Their arms and legs were decorated with
snakebites, but they showed no signs of pain—only pride.
The elders combined the water snake’s venom with a
medicinal root used to cure most ailments. It was a
success. The fevers broke over the course of a day while
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the other symptoms slowly tapered off. Sadly, it was too
late for her family.
Tala stared at the stream, which only moments before
had nearly taken her life. Its motion had a hypnotizing
effect on her as she stood in deep thought. She knew there
was something she had forgotten. Moments later, the glare
of the setting sun on the water broke her out of the
trance. The temperature had dropped when the sun set. She
shivered. These wet clothes will do me no good…
“They are nocturnal! The water snakes are nocturnal!”
She began to search for the root needed to create an
antivenom. As she crawled back into the shallow cave, she
heard Karn speak. “Opal?”
“No… Karn, it’s Tala,” she whispered as she leaned in
over him.
“Cold, so c-cold…” Karn said between labored breaths.
“Who is Opal?”
“Why am I so cold?” he asked calmly, his eyes closed.
“Don’t move. I’ll make us a fire.” Tala touched Karn’s
chest to comfort him.
After taking a moment to examine him, Tala crawled
back outside to collect firewood. She was not gone long,
and when she returned, Karn was convulsing. Shocked, she
dropped the wood in her arms.
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“Gods, no!” She straddled him and pinned his shoulders
to the ground. Her elven strength was more than a match for
Karn in his weakened condition, but his body continued to
jerk beneath her.
Over time, his body calmed, and when Tala thought it
was safe, she removed her tight grip on his shoulders and
reached up with both hands to brush the yellow-green
strands of hair out of her eyes. When she started to shift
her weight off him, his hand gently clasped her ankle.
“Don’t leave me,” Karn murmured.
“How do you feel?”
“Numb all over.”
“It’s the poison. Don’t worry, Karn. I’ll make you an
antidote,” Tala whispered softly as she felt his head for a
fever.
“Use magic,” he whimpered, then coughed.
“What?” Tala asked, confused.
She sat back down on him and patted his chest with an
open hand. A smile pulled at her lips, as he started to
wave her hand back and forth with gestures she thought a
magician would use.
“Boom, whush. Whush, boom!” Tala mimicked the sounds
of magic, as if she was telling a fairy-tale to a child.
“I’m dying,” Karn announced, painfully calm.
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Tala looked down at him, worried. Not only was the
life of the one person she could call a friend in the
balance, but also the life of the man she believed would
become one of the land’s greatest heroes. Deep down, Tala
knew she was betting his future on whether or not she could
make the antidote, and if it would even work.
“Don’t worry, Karn. I’ll save you.”
***
It had taken Tala longer than she had planned to
collect the ingredients and prepare the antidote. She
prayed her memory served her well and that she had not
forgotten any detail. She smiled as she crawled back into
the tiny cave that sheltered Karn. This is going to work,
she thought, until she found him lying face down and
motionless in the dirt.
“No!” Tala shrieked as she rolled him over to his
back. “Not after all the work I’ve done. Not after all I
have sacrificed. You will not die on me!”
She held her hand near his nose and mouth. Each moment
passed with no sign. The word breathe echoed over and over
in her head as she waited for the tiniest sign of life.
Then, when she finally felt a slight exhalation across her
palm, she nearly mistook it for her own.
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“There’s still time,” she proclaimed as she
administered the cure. “Don’t give up on me! Don’t give
up!”
***
The night passed slowly, as Tala watched Karn toss and
turn in his sleep. She was exhausted but could not rest
until she knew his fever had broken. When the sun finally
rose, Tala found herself staring blankly at the river from
inside the shallow cave. When she realized Karn was finally
sleeping soundly, she decided to take a moment to refresh
herself.
She stretched her arms high above her head as she
strolled to the river. Water spilled from her cupped hands
as she splashed her face twice. She laughed as the image of
herself dressed as a tribal healer appeared in her mind.
What would my tribe think of me now?
When she returned to the nook, Karn was awake and
sitting up, leaning against the cave’s inner wall.
“How are you feeling?” she asked softly, as she
crawled over to him.
“Not entirely sure,” he answered, clearly confused.
“Well, you’ve been through much today, so please, stay
still and rest,” Tala explained as she sat near him.
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Karn turned his head and they stared into each other’s
eyes a moment before he said, “Thank you for saving me,
Tala. I owe you.”
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Chapter 40
Imprudence
Two days after the ambush, Karn and Tala arrived at
the thick forest outside the small town of Burning Dawn.
This location was his squad’s rendezvous point, not only
due to the fact that it was a neutral town, but because it
was not too far from where they had landed on the southeast
corner of the Bay of Illyia.
“Damas,” Karn called out to the anxious officer.
“Good morning, sir. Glad to see you are well.” Damas
smiled.
“Is this everyone, Damas?” He took the man’s hand as
he counted ten of Kel Tora’s soldiers.
“No, sir. Four more men and the five elven rangers are
surveying the town,” Damas reported.
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Karn turned to Tala. He placed one hand on her
shoulder and pivoted behind her. “Please explain why,” Karn
said, still looking at Tala.
“One of the men overheard a pair of old farmers
complaining about foreign soldiers. Turns out one of
Mustaffa’s top generals, the very bastard who leads the
forward troops, has frequented the brothel in town the last
two nights.”
“Really? Will he be returning tonight?” Karn asked,
then peeled his eyes off Tala to look at Damas.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good work, Damas. Do we know anything else? How many
guards?”
Damas cracked a smile. “That’s why I sent the men to
survey the town.”
The pause after Damas’s words made everyone very
tense. Karn stood behind Tala. Her stance had changed from
strong to demure as each second passed. Karn placed his
hands on her hips, causing her to jump. He leaned over her
shoulder and whispered softly in her ear.
“Sir?” Damas asked.
“This is why we are here, away from our family and
friends. Our job is to slow down Mustaffa’s momentum at
every chance. This, here. This may just be our best chance.
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Let us go to Burning Dawn and kill ourselves a bloated
enemy general,” Karn declared.
With the exception of Damas and Tala, everyone
cheered. Karn eyed Damas, the man waited until the excited
soldiers began to mill about before he approached Tala.
“Is he well?” Damas asked. “He seems off.”
“With the exception of nearly dying a few days ago, I
would say he’s fine,” Tala answered, smiling at Karn. “Just
a bit unsteady on his feet.”
“I’m concerned that the stress—”
“Don’t worry. I’m here to make sure he stays on his
path. He just needs some rest,” she countered as she walked
away.
***
It took nearly the remainder of the day to walk to
Burning Dawn, which was plenty of time for Karn and Damas
to formulate a strategy. The most crucial detail of the
plan was the number of guards in Mustaffa’s general’s
entourage.
Burning Dawn was a very small settlement, that seemed
to have just enough homes, farms, and shops to support
itself, but poverty still governed this small town, which
was outside the aid of the four major kingdoms.
Nonetheless, its barrenness made it seem quaint.
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Outside Burning Dawn, behind a thick row of thorny
brush, the four soldiers and five elves that Damas had
dispatched to gather information waited.
“He’s called Gregor the Hunter,” the soldier in charge
of the surveillance, Cole, explained after Damas asked for
a report. “He travels with a group of fourteen guards.
We’re told that once inside the town, the guards break into
groups. Two of the guards watch the town entrance while two
patrol each direction’s perimeter. The remaining guards
wait outside the brothel.”
“Good work, Cole.” Damas patted the soldier’s
shoulder.
“Thank you.” Cole nodded. “The brothel’s owner was a
big help. He told us this town has been under Maulen’s
thumb for months, so he’s glad to be of aid to Kel Tora.”
“Is he? He will he aid us?” Karn repeated. “That
changes everything.”
Karn divided his own squad into smaller groups. Even
Tala had a job, which seemed to surprise Damas nearly as
much as it did her. Karn had fashioned a flag out of a torn
piece of cloth and a thick branch. After he handed it to
Tala, he said, “Your job is to climb to the top of the
tallest building in the center of town and watch for my
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signal. When you see it, wave that flag to alert the other
groups to commence their attack.”
Karn sent everyone to their positions, but Damas
approached Karn.
“Sir, is it wise to give her such an important job? It
would be more logical to send one of our men. Perhaps one
of the enlisted elves—”
“Listen, Damas, she is an elf. Her senses and reflexes
are better than the two of us combined,” Karn interrupted.
“Perhaps, but she’s—”
“What, Damas?” Karn’s voice lowered. “Your answer
better be extraordinary.”
“I remember her from home, sir. She may be one of the
duke’s favorites, but she’s…” Damas paused. “I still cannot
fathom why you brought her.”
Karn paced; he needed to expel his nervous energy.
“Had I not brought her, the guards in Kel Tora would have
killed her in my absence.”
“What?” A look of shock painted Damas’s face. “Sir,
you may not be aware of this because you are new to my
lands, but Kel Tora has only the best of the best in her
guard ranks.”
“You tell that to Tala. It was one of Kel Tora’s best
who raped her,” Karn said.
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Stunned, Damas did not speak another word.
“Now take your place,” Karn ordered sternly.
“Sir!”
***
Caught up in preparations, the members of Kel Tora’s
raiding party barely noticed when the sporadic rain began
to fall steadier. It was a persistent downpour by the time
Gregor the Hunter arrived. Karn and his companions watched
while the enemy general entered the town on foot, his long
strides making the soaking wet pelts that covered his
shoulders rise up and down like a galloping bull. Under the
thick furs, Gregor was covered in the darkest plate armor
Karn had ever seen. Its shade was so deep and black it
nearly matched the night sky.
Karn watched the big man march through the town as if
he owned it. The rain cascaded down Karn’s unshaven face,
yet the only things that moved were his eyes as they
followed the enemy general. His attention quickly became
fixated on the large battle-axe strapped to Gregor’s back
as it chimed against his armor with every step.
Gregor’s guards trailed behind him in three tight
rows. When he reached the middle of town they branched off
in each direction: two north, two south, two east, two
west, just as Cole had said. When the general reached the
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brothel, only four guards remained. The man paused outside
the brothel door and looked around. When his eyes paused on
the center of town, Karn’s heart fluttered. He’s seen Tala.
He must have. Karn’s muscles tightened, and with a sudden
burst of speed, he bolted out of the bushes toward the
enemy.
“General Karn! What the hell are you doing?” one of
the soldiers called out in a hushed voice as Karn ran.
“By the gods, what’s he thinking? This is not part of
the plan.” Another one of the soldier’s voices cracked with
fear. “Signal the attack!”
Karn glimpsed back in time to see two of Kel Tora’s
soldiers scamper off through the brush toward the city’s
entrance while another waved to Tala to start the attack.
Karn looked up at her; her eyes were locked on him. She
missed the soldier’s signal. Damn it all.
“General, a rogue soldier!” one of the guard’s
shouted.
Karn watched Gregor lower his gaze. He spotted her,
Karn thought. I knew it. The rain had made the ground soft
and muddy, which made it hard for Karn to keep his balance,
but he did not care. His mind burned with desire for the
enemy general’s blood.
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As he drew nearer, Gregor’s guards formed a wedge in
front of their leader. A strategically sound formation.
I’ll have to go through them all to get to my target.
With scant space left, Karn saw Tala’s arm pop up and
wave the flag.
Karn screamed a battle cry as he closed the space to
the enemy. He threw two daggers from his belt, but the
general’s guards had raised their shields.
Seconds before he reached the guards, Karn drew his
weapon—the sword bestowed upon him by Duke Essex—and he
plunged it deep into the belly of the guard who stood at
the point of the wedge. Karn turned to the side and threw
his weight, shoulder first, into the guard on the right,
knocking him to the wet ground. The abrupt stop caused
Karn’s feet to slip out from under him, and sent him
sailing to the earth below.
Gregor the Hunter erupted in deep, guttural laughter.
Anxious to fight, he shoved the guards aside and brandished
his massive battle-axe.
“You’re almost as wild as the beasts whose pelts I
wear on my shoulders, young lad. It’s fitting you will
share their fate,” Gregor bellowed as he reinforced his
grip on his battle-axe.
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Gregor eyed him and took aim like he was no more than
defenseless prey. When the enemy general raised his battleaxe high over his head, Karn reacted. He grabbed the wet
handle of one of the daggers he had thrown and shot to his
feet with a speed he did not realize he possessed. The
dagger’s muddy blade sliced open Gregor’s neck and
splattered blood over Karn’s face and chest. Gregor’s arms
dropped, and the weight of the axe’s descent broke Gregor’s
right arm at the elbow as it crashed over Karn’s shoulder.
When Karn felt the bone snap, he stepped behind the general
and planted the dagger in the man’s chest.
“You miserable bastard!” one of the general’s guards
yelled, as he prepared to engage Karn.
Just as the enemy guards approached him, the door to
the brothel flew open, and two of Kel Tora’s soldiers
rushed out. One of Karn’s squad drove his sword deep into
the chest of the nearest guard, while the other tackled the
last opponent. In a matter of seconds, Kel Tora’s soldiers
surrounded the brothel from every direction.
Damas and his men were the last to reach the spot.
Karn instantly noticed that Damas’s armor had a fresh slice
on its left side, but the man did not show any signs of
being wounded.
“Are there any casualties?” Damas yelled.
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“No, sir,” one soldier answered.
“Archers, yes or no, did you hit your targets?”
The three elves who had acted as archers confirmed
their kills.
“My squad completed its task,” Damas announced.
“Squads two and three report!”
“All present, and we got ourselves a little prisoner
too,” the soldier who had wrestled the guard down answered.
“Who are you people?” the enemy guard asked. “Don’t
you know—”
One of squad struck the prisoner unconscious. “Shut
up,” he said afterwards.
“Your plan was a success, sir,” Damas said to Karn.
“May I ask? Why did you rush the General?”
Tala had sheepishly exited the brothel during their
conversation, and she caught Karn’s eyes before he spoke.
“Gregor spotted Tala. I was only doing what was
necessary to prevent her from being harmed.”
“I see.” Damas nodded.
“We have some time, Damas. Some time before Mustaffa
sends scouts to look for our general here,” Karn surmised,
and then kicked Gregor’s body.
“You.” Damas motioned to two of his men. “Clean up
this mess.”
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“Hold. Take all their weapons and clean up their
armor,” Karn added. “Let’s celebrate a job well done.”
“Food and drinks are on me!” the brothel owner yelled
from an upstairs window.
Kel Tora’s soldiers cheered as they filed into the
brothel. The last soldier called back to Karn, who was face
to face with Tala.
“Are you coming in, sir?”
“Not right now,” Karn replied as the rain began a
downpour. “Later.”
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Chapter 41
Needs
Karn’s eyes began to slowly wander down Tala’s body,
from the wet hair that clung to her neck, to the diamond
raindrops that trickled down between her breasts. She
watched his eyes follow the curves of her legs from her
hips all the way down to her feet.
“You desire me?” Tala asked, sultry.
“Yes,” Karn said under his breath.
“How badly?” She ran a finger across her breasts.
Karn grunted an inaudible response.
“Well, if you’re going to sound like a fertile
animal,” Tala said, “then you are just going to have to
chase me like one too.” With that, she sprinted off.
Just as she was about to clear the trees, she gazed
back to see how closely Karn pursued her, yet he was
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nowhere to be seen. She stopped and turned completely
around. Her eyes widened and her ears perked up almost like
a cat’s. Her senses told her exactly where he was, and that
he slowly closed in on her. Yet, instead of fleeing, she
pretended to be clueless.
“Karn? Where are you?” Tala called out.
He emerged seconds later from the forest behind her
and wrapped his arms around her. Although she had allowed
herself to be caught, she was not ready to give in entirely
without a fight. Tala shifted her weight and threw her head
down. Her wet hair snapped like a whip as she freed herself
from Karn’s grasp. In a blink, Karn was on her again,
spinning her around to face him. They embraced and kissed
passionately.
“Karn,” she chirped after she pulled away and caressed
his face. “Can we go to the inn?”
***
Karn got a room in Burning Dawn’s Wanderer’s Inn. It
may have been the only inn in town, but its rooms were
large and each one came with its own fireplace. After
building a small fire, Karn removed his wet, muddy clothes.
He sat down in front of the fire and allowed the heat to
dry his body. He called out to Tala, who sat on the
windowsill nude, her legs swinging back and forth in the
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rain. When their eyes met, she hopped off the ledge and
crossed the room. In front of Karn, she lowered herself
slowly onto his lap.
Tala’s hair spilled into Karn’s face, but that did not
prevent him from moving closer to her. He kissed Tala
softly on the lips a few times, then pulled back to stare
deeply into her violet eyes. When he brushed her long,
glowing hair back from her face, he grazed her pointy ears
with the tips of his fingers. Chills shot down Tala’s
spine, and she squirmed and let out a little sigh.
With a little body language and a tiny push, Tala
instructed him to lay back, relax, and enjoy her.
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Chapter 42
Deviation
The sun rose too quickly for Karn; his sleep-numbed
body was too comfortable to move. Deep down, he knew he had
no choice. Rainbow snapperfish are easiest to catch in the
morning, and they won’t wait till noon for my lazy bones.
That—he smiled as he thought—and if I don’t get up now, my
little early bird-girl will be in to wake me.
Karn rolled over expecting to see his beautiful wife,
Margeaux lying next to him. He loved the way her blonde
hair curled overnight and enjoyed twirling it between his
fingers as he awoke. When he finally wrested himself free
of sleep, he opened his eyes to unfamiliar surroundings.
“Margeaux?” Karn called out. “Margeaux?”
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As his initial panic waned, his mind cleared. I
remember where I am now, he thought. And I remember what I
was doing here.
Karn dallied in bed a moment as he tried his best to
make sense of things. He knew he should be happy, but he
could not shake the sensation that he had suffered a great
loss. Why do I feel such heavy sorrow? Was it the dream?
As he thought harder, Opal came to mind. I’ve hardly
had a chance to think about her in days, not since arriving
in Kel Tora. So many pressing matters. Or…
He began to speculate if his dream and the loss he
felt was tied to the guilt he should be feeling for
betraying Opal. Oddly enough, Opal felt like a distant
memory—an old lover from days gone by.
“Tala,” Karn shouted, hoping she was near.
When there was no response, he pushed himself out of
bed and lumbered over to a mirror that hung on the wall
opposite him. It had been a long time since he really
looked at himself carefully, and he found that his long
brown hair had become knotted and his facial hair was
unkempt. I look dreadful. How could anyone be attracted to
this? he thought. After he vigorously rubbed the sleep from
his eyes, he picked up a bowl of water and razor from the
floor, and placed them on the table in front of the mirror.
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Still warm, he thought as he splashed his face. Tala must
have left this only a little while ago.
He was admiring himself in the mirror after
meticulously trimming his beard, when he began to feel
strangely faint. His stomach churned, his legs buckled, and
he fell, spilling the bowl of water on the ground. His head
crashed into the table and split the skin above his right
eye. It should have hurt, but an odd sensation, unlike any
he had ever experienced, overwhelmed him. It felt as if the
very life essence that once coursed through his body was
suddenly being siphoned out. As much as he wanted to fight,
there was nothing he could do to stop it.
This-this is my end. Karn tried to stand, but his
limbs felt like they were made of the heaviest stone. Just
when he was sure he was going to slip away, a wave of
strength jolted him up, and just as quickly as he had felt
sick, he returned to feeling well.
***
A little later that morning, Karn sat on a large stone
near the edge of town. He needed to put his perplexing
morning behind him, so he diligently worked on repairing
his armor. Karn merged plates of Gregor’s armor over the
right and left breast of his chainmail. The noise of the
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metal smith’s hammer against the armor echoed through the
small town.
Tala skipped through the dirt streets over to Karn
like a playful child. And when she stopped in front of him,
she mischievously kicked his foot.
“I brought you a gift,” she said, and reached out,
placing a homemade necklace in his hand.
Karn took the necklace and looked carefully at it. It
was made of twined vines and a collection of wooden beads
and polished pebbles. She made this… Karn peered up through
his hair at Tala, who had an identical necklace around her
neck.
“What is it?” he asked, as he examined the necklace.
“It’s an elven tradition. If a woman chooses to take a
mate, she will go out in the forest and make two necklaces.
As long as we wear these, it signifies that the two of us
are joined as lifemates,” Tala explained, stepping closer
and straddling him. She closed in for a kiss. “Oh, how did
you get this?” she asked, gently touching the injury on his
head.
“I fell,” Karn stated. “It’s nothing.”
“Does it still hurt?”
He looked up into her pale violet eyes. They are the
most alive things I’ve ever seen. They glow in the sunlight
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and gaze back at me with complete love and trust. I cannot
remember ever receiving such a look from Opal.
“Something very, very strange happened to me this
morning,” Karn admitted while he stroked her leg.
“What?”
“I had a dream,” Karn said, its peculiar effects still
stung. “Tala, it felt very real.”
“What was it about?” Tala asked, her full attention on
him.
“I felt like I was waking to a strict routine. You
know, one I had followed for many, many months—even years.
When I rolled over, I expected to be greeted by a blonde
woman. I think she may have been my wife,” Karn explained.
“Please continue,” Tala said.
“When I opened my eyes, she was not there. I was so
sad, like I lost something-everything,” Karn continued.
“It’s baffling.”
“Have you ever been married?”
Karn began to answer, but hesitated, unsure of
himself. After his dream, he felt as though he should
answer yes. “No.”
“Good then,” Tala answered with a smile. “In my
opinion, you most likely need more rest, soldier.”
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Tala promptly tied the necklace around his neck and
wrapped her arms around him. At first, Karn just sat there
and let her hug him without reciprocating. When she pulled
back and looked deep in his eyes, she smelled like wild
flowers—she always smells that way. Her soft hair brushed
against his cheek on a cool breeze that caressed them both.
As Tala opened her mouth to say something, she was
interrupted by Damas.
“General!”
Karn rose suddenly, knocking Tala to the ground. “What
is it, Damas?”
“We have news.” Damas’s voice was taut with dread.
“Mustaffa is preparing to lay siege to Maulen.”
Karn turned to Tala, who had clambered to her feet and
now stood next to him. “He’s moving fast,” he said.
“He must not have rested his army after the Joa’Ta
siege,” Damas said thoughtfully. “What should we do, sir?”
“Duke Essex gave me strict orders to bring in any
prisoners that we may be able to gather information from,
so I’m returning to Kel Tora. What do you want to do,
Damas?”
Damas was startled. “Perhaps, I should take some of
the men to Maulen and aid her,” he answered.
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“Opting for battle, eh? Sounds like you have made your
decision.”
“Yes, I have,” Damas answered.
“Then go to Maulen and aid the women and children.
Help them escape Mustaffa and reach safety.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Cole and the elves are returning with me,” Karn
stated, then pointed to the young officer who was
sharpening his sword nearby.
“I’ll gather the other soldiers and leave right away,
sir,” Damas replied with a nod.
“Be sure you keep an eye open for sympathizers,
refugees, or anyone who may be able to help. When we’ve
beaten Mustaffa, you and I will toast his death.”
Damas shook Karn’s hand and then ran to the soldiers
who were now under his command. Karn waited a moment before
he turned his gaze to Tala, who had been silent throughout
the entire exchange.
“When do we leave?” she asked with a smile.
“Now.”
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Chapter 43
Temporarily
Kel Tora’s rangers had returned some days ago from a
scouting mission with the near-lifeless body of a woman.
They had discovered her unconscious not far from where a
mysterious blue light had been reported. She was gravely
wounded and her clothes had been reduced to rags. She was
lucky they found her—and that Duke Essex’s curiosity was
piqued by her. He ordered his men to take her straight to
the royal healers; he wanted to keep her close.
Rumors of magic spread through the ranks, and if by
chance this woman was a mage, as so many of his men
speculated, Duke Essex wanted to be the first to know.
The duke would not say this to his generals or aids,
but secretly, he hoped the wounded woman wielded magical
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powers. He knew someone who wielded such force would be a
great aid in the coming war.
Duke Essex’s visit to the unknown woman’s bedside had
become a part of his routine; he checked on her morning and
night. The royal healers were pleased to report that a warm
skin tone had returned, but the duke was still deeply
concerned that she had remained unconscious.
Several nights ago, as the castle was still, the woman
awoke. Her body had begun to spasm, and one of the
traditional healers who watched over her had alerted a
royal guard.
Duke Essex wasted no time dressing after his guard
informed him; he simply covered himself with a thick
deerskin robe and rushed to his healer’s room. He reached
the woman’s bedside as the tips of her toes were brushing
the stone floor for the first time. Duke Essex feared her
weakened muscles might falter, but instead, her posture
shifted and the woman, who had looked as if she were going
to die just a few days ago, stood clear-eyed, tall, and
strong before him. While he looked deep into her puzzled
gaze, the duke introduced himself slowly.
“Madam, you are in the kingdom of Kel Tora. I am her
monarch, Duke Ethan Essex.”
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“So much blood,” the woman whispered, her eyes at
work, panning the room from side to side.
“Madam, do you know your name? Do you have any clue as
to how you arrived outside my town?”
“Zian? Karn?” she mumbled as she took her first small
step forward. “I don’t understand… How did this happen?”
“Her wounds have left her delirious, sir,” one of the
traditional healers said.
“Karn?” Duke Essex said ponderously.
Duke Essex watched the woman’s shoulders roll forward
and her knees begin to buckle. He acted quickly with a
slide across the room that showed such grace it seemed his
feet did not touch the ground. He scooped up under her limp
body and saved her from collapsing on the hard floor. After
taking a moment to look her in the eye, to search for some
hint of magical power, he helped her into a chair.
“Thank you.” She seemed surprised to hear her own
voice.
“You are very welcome…”
***
How much time had passed since she last spoke she did
not know. Opal felt as if she had fallen asleep again,
nodded off. But that can’t be right, she thought, I’m
awake. I’m…
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“Opal. My name is Opal.”
“Opal,” the duke repeated. “It’s good to finally meet
you, Opal. I am Duke Essex of Kel Tora.”
Her mind jerked back to her fight with Maximilian. Her
skin crawled and she shuddered. She saw the spike enter her
flesh again and remembered the pain as if it were new. Her
mind’s eye faded to black, then pulsed red and back to
black before finally shifting to the moment she had
transported herself to Kel Tora. I made it. I made it.
“You’re Kel Tora’s ruler?”
“Yes.”
“I came here in search of my friend,” she said, as
more memories returned. “Karn. Did Karn come here seeking
an alliance?”
Duke Essex looked away at one of his healers and then
to his guards. He looked bothered, and Opal was unsure why.
“Well, Opal, I would gladly tell you, but first I
require a small bit of information from you.”
“Karn and I are lovers. He and I have chosen to stand
against the warlord Naraboo.” Opal felt her impatience grow
and was sure it was obvious in her tone of voice.
“Naraboo? The petty warlord that used to terrorize
this region ages ago?”
“He goes by the name Mustaffa now.”
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“What?” The duke stepped back in alarm. “How did you
come by this information?”
“How?” Opal shook her head and then touched where she
had been wounded. “The hard way. I know this because I’m a
mage, and he seeks to destroy all mages.”
“He seeks to conquer all of Illyia, mage and non-mage
alike,” the duke said grimly.
Opal nodded, her eyes drifting to the new skirt on her
hips. She gazed curiously at the garment, her eyes moving
up her body to her shoulder. I’m wearing new clothing.
“What happened to my clothes?”
“What do you remember?” Duke Essex asked with a
grimace on his face.
Opal tried to remember. “Blood… so much blood,” she
repeated.
“Yes, you were hurt badly. As a matter of fact, you
owe whoever tended that wound of yours, because it was that
person who truly saved your life.” He pointed at her
stomach.
A phantom pain shot through her belly where the wound
had been. Again she could feel the spike drill into her
flesh; she shuddered and coughed. “Was I with child?” Opal
solemnly asked the duke, and then the healer who stood in
the back of the room.
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“I don’t know.” The healer shrugged.
“I think… I think I lost Karn’s baby.” A tear ran down
her cheek as she spoke.
“You have my deepest condolences.” Duke Essex offered
his hand to Opal, but she did not take it.
“Gods, what have I done?” She began crying, trembling
violently.
Opal dropped to her knees on the floor, the weight
that had ridden her shoulders for so long finally breaking
her. At first, she merely covered her eyes, but as the
sorrow grew, so did her anger. Her rage built to a head,
and she slammed her palms onto the floor and released a
deep, pain-filled howl.
“Opal?”
“What?” she snapped.
“Please, let me take you to one of my guest rooms
where you can rest and continue to heal. Then, when you are
ready to talk, you may seek me out.”
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Chapter 44
Surprises
Two days after being told to rest in one of the finest
guest rooms in Kel Tora castle, four guards came to
retrieve Opal. Ushered to the throne room, she was
surprised to be introduced as the enchantress Opal and was
overwhelmed with the room’s beauty.
Opal had never seen such splendor before—not in
Weiden’s Rise and certainly not in the mages’ fortress. The
longer she stayed in Kel Tora, the more she began to notice
that ordinary objects, such as goblets and mirrors, seemed
to shine and sparkle more intensely. All that had been
lackluster and dull in her life suddenly had color. I’ve
been living in the mages’ gray world for far too long. I’d
almost forgotten how beautiful vibrant colors are. In Kel
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Tora, everything had color. I could get used to living
here.
The duke spoke among his advisors as she approached
the throne. There was a panic in the air that clashed with
the calm exquisiteness that surrounded her. Opal would have
enjoyed taking a moment to sort all she felt and saw, but
that was not her fate. As she panned the room, she read the
minds of the guards who stood at attention, their eyes
glued to her. I am not a guest here.
When the duke turned his attention to Opal, his gaze
felt heavy. They want something from me and I’m not sure
they are going to ask.
“Maulen is at war! Mustaffa’s army is mere days away
from our borders. If you have information that could help
us against him, I pray you tell it to me now,” the duke
demanded. His tone scared her.
“I’m sorry, my lord.” Opal’s voice shook as she spoke.
“There’s much that I know, some of which I’ll regret
telling you, and some of which you may not want to hear.”
“Enchantress, please start at the beginning and allow
me that judgment.”
Opal told the duke everything she knew about the enemy
warlord, including her connection to the High Council. Yet,
despite all the truths she spoke, she could not bear to
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reveal Karn’s origins. As she drew to a conclusion, the
lightheadedness she felt while admitting her sins began to
clear. She knew Duke Essex must have been shocked by much
of what she disclosed.
“Crater Lake?” Duke Essex repeated, surprised by the
connection of the school of mages to the invading warlord.
“Yes, the entire spread of flatland was transported
away.” Opal motioned with her hands.
“So the warlord Naraboo returns for vengeance?” The
duke cupped his hands together as he looked at his
advisors.
“Yes.”
“Why can’t you mages stop him? Your leaders must have
access to massive power.”
“The bastard wears an amulet that nullifies magic.”
Opal did not know whether to laugh or cry. “And, as far as
I know, most, if not all, of the archmages of the High
Council are dead.”
“What did she just say?” one of the Kel Tora’s
advisors interjected, shocked.
“I think they are all dead. There was a betrayal,”
Opal admitted.
Duke Essex’s face crumpled. “Is that what led to your
arrival here, Opal?”
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“I fought the traitor and lost.” Opal clenched her
hands into fists.
“My sympathy will have to come later. For now, I need
to know, once and for all: will you aid Kel Tora, Opal?”
Opal thought hard for a moment. This war had taken
enough from her. She wanted nothing more than to escape,
but a nagging feeling of remorse for New Maejika remained.
She needed to repay them, and perhaps her aid in this war
was all she could give. “I will help you, sir, but remember
that my magical powers cannot harm Mustaffa directly.”
“Not to worry. There are many other ways to utilize
your skills,” Duke Essex answered. “And other ways that he
can be harmed. You may return to your quarters, Opal. We’ll
alert you when Karn returns.” He bowed to Opal and then
nodded to his guards. Before she realized what was
happening, guards from each side of the room had boxed her
in.
“We’ll escort you back to your room,” one of the
guards stated politely but firmly.
“I can find my way.”
“I regret, Enchantress, that we have our orders.”
When Opal did not move, a cold, steel-gloved hand
wrapped itself around her arm. “Please come with us,” the
guard spoke more sternly.
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As the guard shifted his weight to push Opal forward,
a blast of purple light shot up from the cracks in the
castle floor, enveloping her. Each of the four guards
covered their eyes, and when they uncovered them, Opal had
vanished.
***
The next morning, Opal ventured out of her room filled
with churning emotions.
Max ruined everything. That worthless fool. He should
never have attacked me. I-I never should’ve brought him
back. Why did I do that? Was it because I thought I
couldn’t? Or was it because I wanted to see if I could? I
wanted to prove myself to the archmages and now look…
they’re all dead… they’re all dead because of me.
Karn? Where are you? Why can’t I sense you?
Opal had requested her old clothes be returned; she
needed to know what had happened after she was wounded. She
needed a face she could trust and that face belonged to
Zian.
Opal could not help but worry about the jackalwere.
Where did he go? Is he watching me from some hidden
vantage? She clenched a torn piece of her old, soiled dress
in her right hand as she walked through the castle. Two
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guards shadowed her the entire time, a constant reminder
that she was yet to be fully trusted.
Once outside the town’s gates, Opal turned and walked
about forty paces. She picked up the first broken piece of
tree branch she saw and with a swift spiking motion,
pierced the tattered cloth of her ruined garment with the
stick. Finally, she planted the stick in the ground. Right
away, a strong wind lifted the ripped piece of cloth up in
the air like a flag. Opal smiled. She knew that if Zian
were nearby, he would definitely smell the cloth and find
her now.
As she stared off into the distant forest, she
wondered what was happening. Karn’s out there somewhere,
alone, fighting to save the lands from Naraboo. Opal knew
she should never have let him go without her. All that work
and now she had no clue if he was even alive. Perhaps my
charm spells have worn off. Maybe he’s remembered his life
prior to the Ancient Warlord’s Soul spell… prior to me.
Either way, she yearned for him as strongly as she did when
they had first met.
“I need you here, Karn. Come back to me,” Opal
repeated over and over, accidentally triggering a spell.
Rain clouds, which had been quiescent in the sky,
seemed to roll over and tumbled down toward the path in
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front of Kel Tora. Opal watched, through tired eyes, as the
clouds changed to shades of deep purple and formed a
massive magical portal right in front of her. She was
shocked. Is this my doing? Or is someone else casting this
spell? Her heart seized. Who will come out of this portal?
Will it be one of the archmages? Could it be Max?
Suddenly, seven people on horseback stampeded through
the portal and rode past her toward Kel Tora. The two
guards accompanying Opal leapt back as the torrent of
energy the riders generated rumbled past them. The guards
stood dumbfounded by the sight. Another soldier, who
watched from atop the town walls, called down to them.
“It’s the raiding party!”
“Amazing!” the older of the two guards shouted.
“How did they get here?” the other asked. “How did
they do that? Did she do that?”
“Who was that?” Opal asked.
“That appears to be the remainder of our raiding
party,” the older guard answered.
“Raiding party?” she asked.
“There must’ve been heavy casualties because they were
thirty men strong when they departed,” the older guard
added grimly.
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Opal was caught in a struggle between her emotions and
fears. She ached to flee Kel Tora and her responsibilities.
It shouldn’t be that difficult to find a place to hide from
the coming war. I’ll travel to the northernmost uninhabited
mountains. Yes, they might be a good, safe place to live.
Opal started to jog back to the town gates when one of
the riders rode back and stopped directly in front of her.
The bright sun shone over his shoulder, and Opal had to
squint in order to look at him. The man towered over her,
and his identity was a mystery, due to the old tattered
scarf wrapped around his head and face.
She stepped back when he lifted his leg over the horse
and slid to the ground in a puff of dirt and dust.
“You?” The man reached up and unwrapped the scarf.
Opal screamed with joy when she heard his voice, and
lunged forward.
“You used your magic to transport us here? You have no
clue how much time you just saved us,” Karn said.
“I transported you?” Opal did not understand how it
was possible.
“You have my thanks. Now tell me, why are you here?”
“I love you,” she sobbed.
Her words seemed to make him squirm uncomfortably.
“Are you well?”
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“So much has happened,” she muttered through tears.
“We have to talk.”
Karn agreed, but only after important business; first
he had to speak with Duke Essex. He promised to return to
her later in the day, then mounted his horse and abruptly
rode off. Rattled, Opal stood and watched him return to the
castle. Something’s changed. Something’s wrong.
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Chapter 45
Change
Duke Essex met Karn halfway between the entrance to
the throne room and the throne. He was clearly excited by
Karn’s return, and greeted him with a handshake and a hug,
his actions made Karn feel more like family than an officer
in the duke’s army.
Before he spoke, Karn turned and dismissed the
remainder of the raiding party, including Tala, who had
waited for him at the threshold of the throne room.
“You each have my thanks and will be rewarded for your
hard work and service.” Duke Essex’s voice cut through the
air.
Karn stood silently, waiting for the duke to return to
his throne before he properly addressed him.
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“It’s very good to see you, yet I’m afraid I have
unsettling news that may spoil your return, Karn. But
first, I hope you have some good news for me.”
“I do, sir,” Karn answered. “As you well know, I
captured and brought back one of Mustaffa’s men for
questioning.”
The duke nodded.
“While away, my squad and I engaged and destroyed two
supply groups. Most importantly, we killed one of
Mustaffa’s forward generals.”
“Excellent work.” Duke Essex applauded.
“There’s more, sir. I regret to inform you we lost a
few men in an ambush, one which nearly claimed me as well.”
“An unfortunate side of war, my friend. Their families
will be compensated for their loss.” The duke hurried the
conversation along. “Anything else?”
“Before setting forth to return to Kel Tora, I
dispatched men to aid Maulen.”
Duke Essex stood. “You did what?”
“Your Lordship, I’m unsure whether or not this will
slow Mustaffa’s march, but I instructed Damas to help
protect the innocent families.”
“You…” Duke Essex struggled to form his words. “You’re
a good man, Karn. I’m often referred to as a diplomat, but
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in these trying times, I cannot say I would’ve made the
same decision.”
“Thank you, sir.” He nodded.
“Unfortunately, Karn, we have no way of telling if
your hard work has slowed Mustaffa’s march at all. Still,
I’m sure your efforts will prove worthwhile.”
“Thank you.”
Duke Essex waved Karn closer. “Now, I must share my
news. Shortly after you left, my rangers found your
paramour, the enchantress Opal, in the forest outside the
town.”
Karn was not surprised, since he had seen Opal moments
ago.
“I hear rumor that it was her magic which brought you
home so quickly, but there’s something I must tell you.”
The duke paused. “I regret to inform you that when we found
her, Karn, she was gravely wounded.”
“Wounded how?” Karn’s voice cracked with concern.
“She had suffered many injures: the most severe, a
belly wound that… my friend. Karn. She lost her baby.”
Karn was instantly overcome. Hot flashes shot across
his body as his heart was stabbed by terrible guilt. It’s
my fault her-our baby is dead… my fault for leaving her.
Karn wanted to scream—to throw his sword across the room—
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but anger gripped him so tightly he could not even move.
The duke apologized over and over before he finally
dismissed Karn, ordering him to go and see Opal.
Karn turned and walked away in a fog. He found Tala
leaning against the wall. She’s been waiting for me. Thisshe only complicates things.
Tala perked up and hurried toward him. As she drew
closer, he could see his tension mirrored in her eyes.
“Karn?” Her head was cocked to the side like a
confused child.
“Tala, I need to be alone tonight.” Karn did not know
how else to say it. “Some time—”
“Say no more,” she quickly interrupted. “I need to
resolve a few things before we head out again anyway. Oh,
and a moonlight bath in the lake would be nice too.”
Karn took her hands in his and made her promise to be
careful before saying goodbye for the night. He watched her
walk away until she turned the corner at the end of the
long hallway. Once she was out of sight, Karn took a deep
breath, steadied his nerves, and went directly to Opal.
***
The walk through the castle was too quick to allow him
time to sort out his feelings. Karn considered standing
outside Opal’s door for a few minutes, mulling over his
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thoughts, but they had become as rotten as a bad tooth and
deserved the same attention. Make it quick; get it over
with, Karn thought. Without a knock to announce himself,
Karn pushed the door open, and when he came face to face
with Opal, she exploded in tears.
“You should’ve said something to me earlier.” Karn
took her in his arms and held her tight.
“I was so sure you would hate me. I-I know how you
want to raise a family, and I failed you by letting this
happen,” Opal cried.
“You didn’t fail me.”
“Our child is dead!” she cried loudly.
Her words ushered in images of a small blonde child.
He could see the girl as if she stood in front of him, her
tiny hand reaching out to his. She was the most beautiful
little girl he had ever seen. Her long hair had a slight
curl that was messy from the wind. She looked at Karn with
something he had never seen before—complete and pure love.
Karn barely registered Opal’s presence as he looked at
the child. The beautiful little girl turned her head and
peered over her shoulder, then turned fully away. Without
warning, she bolted like a rabbit. Across the room in an
instant, she ran straight to the outer wall and vanished
through it.
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Karn reached out to the child to call her name, but as
soon as the words formed, he forgot them.
“Karn, speak to me,” Opal begged.
Karn was at a loss for words. “Sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The vision of the child was hauntingly familiar, like
the dream he’d had. Who are they; this woman and child?
Before Karn could order his thoughts, Opal grabbed his arm.
“I need you to give me another child Karn, right now,”
she said into his face.
“No,” Karn argued. “You need time to recuperate and I
have a war to fight.”
“I’m fine.”
Karn watched Opal’s eyes flash. She’s drawing on her
magical energy.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m fine, Karn.” Her voice dropped.
“You’re… fine,” Karn responded.
Opal unhooked his belt, and placed it and his scabbard
on the floor. After she removed his dusty chainmail and
leather shirt, she paused.
“This is new. What is it?” Opal said, tugging on the
necklace Tala had fashioned for him.
Karn’s mind, which had gone strangely empty, suddenly
focused on Tala. A smile turned the corner of his mouth up,
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until he forced it flat. “One of the elves in my raiding
party made it for me. It’s for good luck,” he lied.
“Oh, well, we need luck. Let us lay together.”
“Opal, I have things I must—”
“Join me in bed. Now.”
“I will join you in bed.”
Karn blew out the candles before he finished
undressing. Opal awaited him in bed. Opal is my everything.
I must give her another child. Then, I must destroy
Mustaffa.
***
The next morning Karn lay in bed, eyes glued to the
wooden supports in the stone ceiling. I feel nothing. Most
obvious to him, was the emptiness that existed where there
had once been a swell of love. As he sat up, he realized
Opal was awake too.
“You will tell Duke Essex that you need a day to spend
with me,” Opal said in deep monotone voice.
“I’m sorry, Opal, but I can’t.”
She looked startled and repeated herself, louder this
time.
“You will tell the duke that you need a day to spend
with me.”
“I said no.”
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“What do you mean, no?”
Karn rolled out of bed and quickly gathered his
clothes. The anger in her voice helped spur his action.
“I need to leave now. I’ll… I-I don’t know,” Karn
mumbled as he dressed.
“Karn, you can’t go. Stay.”
“I must go.”
“If you go, who will I…”
Karn did not hear what remained of her statement, as
he stepped out of the room and closed the door.
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Chapter 46
Plans
As Karn walked through Kel Tora’s courtyard, he
noticed a small group of soldiers in the royal garden. They
were huddled in a tight formation. Curious, Karn moved
closer until he could step just inside the small crowd.
To his surprise, the object of these soldiers’
attention was Tala, the same person he sought.
To Karn, it appeared as if the young elf had fallen
asleep in Duke Essex’s private garden alongside a patch of
pansies that had just begun to shrivel in the cold weather.
Tala was wrapped in an old blanket that covered all but her
right leg, which had slipped out from under the covering
and exposed her thigh and the side of her buttocks.
“I’ve been watching her for most of the morning,” said
a powerfully built tall man. “Most of the elves slept
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outside the castle last night, but this one found it fit to
sleep here. Should I arrest her, sir?”
“N-no, Lieutenant…” Karn waited for the soldier who
was about the same age as him to reveal his name.
“Lieutenant Hart, sir.” The officer saluted.
The remainder of soldiers promptly left as, one by
one, they realized a general was present.
“Lieutenant Hart, you did the right thing. As a
matter of fact, she’s with me,” Karn said, with a nod in
Tala’s direction.
“May I speak openly, General?” Hart asked as he looked
around.
“Of course.”
“You are a lucky man, and many of my soldiers would
agree.” Hart spoke seriously.
“She’s beautiful, no doubt,” Karn agreed while he
watched her sleep on the small bed of grass.
“Yes, sir, there’s that, and the fact that she’s still
alive and in one piece after last night.”
“What happened last night?” Karn’s voice matched
Hart’s serious tone.
“You—you have not heard the news?” Lieutenant Hart
paused, stroked his blonde goatee, and removed his chain
mail hood while he glanced about a moment. “We found a
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guard murdered last night,” Hart finally said. “He was
nearly eviscerated.”
“Deep claw wounds?” Karn replied.
“That or perhaps two small hooked daggers, but the
savagery does suggest a beast.”
Images of Zian tearing up the giant that guarded the
jail in Weiden’s Rise flashed through Karn’s mind. Zian
could have been responsible, but why would he attack one of
Kel Tora's soldiers without provocation? Karn looked past
the town walls to the forest and stared at every little
movement. Are you out there, Zian?
“I could take you to the body, sir,” Lieutenant Hart
offered.
“That’s not necessary. I have to take care of this
young lady and a few other chores. By the way, Hart, I want
you and your men to consider yourselves under my charge
now.”
“Yes, sir!”
“I’ll meet with you a little later.” Karn saluted.
Karn knelt by Tala’s head so he could whisper in her
ear. His warm breath and gentle voice woke her peacefully,
one eye opening before the other.
“Good morning,” she squeaked.
“Good morning.”
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Tala sat up and stretched toward the golden sun with a
long yawn. If it was not for Karn’s quick thinking and fast
hands, she would have slid out of the horse blanket like a
snake shedding its skin. She laughed then jumped up to test
Karn’s reflexes.
“You’re fast today, hero.” She said with a smile.
“I have to be fast around you.” He smiled back.
Karn escorted Tala back to her small cabin deep inside
the town. Never having been there before, he did not know
what to expect. When they arrived, Tala alerted him to her
housemate.
“You live with someone?”
“Yes, an old widow of one of Kel Tora’s forgotten
soldiers,” Tala explained. “She tends to act like my mother
when I’m home.”
Tala knocked before she opened the wooden door to her
home. The cabin was small and consisted of only one room.
In total, the space was no larger than the guest room Karn
stayed in within Kel Tora’s castle.
With an uncharacteristically timid voice, Tala asked
Karn to wait outside, and she shut the door gently behind
her. Karn wondered why she was not living in the forest
villages with the other elves, but there was something the
duke said that stuck with him. She is wild, perhaps too
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wild to be at ease in a small village. With countless
questions still ablaze in his mind, Tala emerged from the
cabin dressed and ready to go.
“Tala, I must know something. When I first met you,
the duke he—”
“What did he tell you?”
Tala’s normally playful air became suddenly still and
serious.
“Not much, but he hinted that you were not allowed to
return to your tribe, and I’ve noticed the other elves
around town do not acknowledge you.”
She swung her head down and looked away, taking a few
steps ahead of Karn before she answered.
“Someone died because of me. My best friend, Evey, the
chieftain’s daughter,” Tala admitted solemnly.
Karn ushered her to a table outside a wood craftsman’s
shop on the outskirts of the town. They sat down and she
continued her story. “She had become… smitten with me… and
I guess I had feelings for her too. She was as stunning as
a sparkling waterfall, Karn, with long silver hair, and
light pink eyes that could warm the coldest heart.” Tala
paused. “Although we hid our feelings, people started to
spread rumors about us.”
“Did you love her?”
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Tala looked up from the table, where she had locked
her eyes, just long enough to answer him. “I love the
trees, the grass, the rain; I love all things in nature.”
“Oh.”
“One autumn day, we were caught by one of the
chieftain’s guards. We were only embracing. Luckily for us,
her father dismissed it as a young woman’s playfulness.” A
wistful smile turned up Tala’s lips. “A week or so later,
though, the chieftain himself found us lying together.
Mortified by what he saw as sickening he threatened both
Evey’s life and mine.”
Karn listened to every word, caught up in the clearly
visible hurt in Tala’s eyes.
“I figured the only solution would be for me to leave
the village. So I told him I would go away if he spared
both our lives. He agreed and I was to be exiled
immediately.” Tala sighed, and her bottom lip quivered.
“I’m so sorry, Tala. You must’ve been devastated.”
Karn took her hand across the wooden table they sat at.
“I packed my belongings and as I was walking out of
the village, I overheard one of the hunters say that she
had killed herself.” Tala’s voice shook. “But I don’t
believe that.”
“Do you think she was murdered?”
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Tala began to cry. “I do.”
“I’m so sorry.” Karn gently squeezed her hand; he
wanted to take away her pain.
“You are the only person I’ve ever shared that with.”
Tala’s tears slowed and she spoke softly. “You wanted to
know why the elves you see around here do not talk to me?
I’ve been marked as an outcast and… well, being with you
doesn’t help, Karn. Elven men disapprove of elven women
mating with humans.”
“I had no idea.” Karn shook his head.
“I don’t regret my choice. I’m very pleased we are
together. It’s been such a long time since someone
genuinely cared about me.”
“I—wait.” Karn’s heard something in the distance.
“There’s something happening in town.”
Its normal buzz seemed to escalate, and hanging in the
air was an eerie tension unlike anything Karn had ever
sensed.
“I feel it too,” Tala said, her eyes going wide.
“What is it?” Karn’s eyebrows tilted with the query.
“Something’s dreadfully wrong.” Tala shivered.
Karn watched nervously as Tala stood up, her elven
ears perking up and tilting back forty-five degrees. She
began to look around like a skittish deer while cringing
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into the shelter of her body. Suddenly, her eyes
frantically turned to the heavens, and the sky opened,
dumping hail.
Ice crystals the size of chestnuts fell fast and hard
all around them. Tala grabbed Karn’s arm and led him,
running, in the direction of a tavern. Once under the eaves
that shielded the entrance, the two stopped and turned
around. They watched as townspeople scurried to seek
shelter from the savage barrage of hail. Those unlucky
enough to be struck by the ice chunks yelped in pain. Blood
from a head wound poured down one woman’s face as her
husband helped her to safety. Children all over town cried
for their mothers as they were pelted by the overwhelming
ice storm. One child caught Karn’s attention: a little girl
with pale blonde hair sat crying on the ground, unprotected
and seemingly too terrified to move. She seemed to be the
only one that had not been rushed off to safety.
“Karn, look!” Tala pointed at the child.
“I see her. Stay here. I’ll go.”
The ground was so littered with small ice balls, that
any movement was hazardous. Karn stepped carefully, raised
his shield over his head, and then dashed out to the child.
Upon reaching her, Karn scooped her up and quickly turned
back to Tala, who was distracted by something in the
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distance. Karn tried to follow her gaze in the direction of
the castle, but his vision, although exceptional, was poor
in comparison with hers.
“Safe and sound,” Karn said after he returned to Tala
with the little girl.
The little girl looked up at Karn and smiled. The
sight made Karn think of the ghost of the girl he had seen
yesterday. Her name formed in his mouth once again,
“Sabrina!”
Although her ears twitched in response to Karn’s
voice, Tala’s attention had not strayed from the sky above
the castle. “Karn, I pray you witnessed what I just did.
Tell me you saw two people… two people flying.”
“What? No.” He feared the worst.
“Yes, they flew into one of the chambers in the
castle’s west wing, perhaps the throne room,” she said. “A
few moments later, they flew out again.”
“Mages!” Karn growled.
“Mages? In Kel Tora castle?”
Karn glared at the castle, his anger rising. “I intend
to find out what these mages want once and for all!”
“Karn, you must be careful,” Tala said, clasping his
arm. “These are evil men who can will you dead with a
thought.”
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Karn ignored her worry, instructed her to stay back,
and ran off toward the castle. His mind narrowed on the
possible reasons Opal, or any other mage, could have had
business with the duke. Did they come for an alliance, or
is this an attack? Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted
the flutter of yellow-green hair. When he glanced over,
Tala was there.
“I’m going with you,” she said firmly.
He had heard that tone in her voice before. He knew
better than to even try to dissuade her. With a sigh, he
said, “Very well, you go ahead.”
She nodded and sprinted off through the crowds of
people milling about town, who were still trying to make
sense of the strange hailstorm.
As he watched her run, he felt extremely clumsy,
especially when he bumped into the people Tala so
effortlessly passed by. Look at her, he thought. She
navigates her way through these crowds as if she has a
precognition of when people are about to move and where
they are moving to.
Although it only took a few moments for them to jog to
the castle and get to the throne room, Karn was winded. He
passed the royal guards confidently with just a wave of his
hand.
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“Karn! I’m glad you are here. We need to talk—alone,”
Duke Essex bellowed, motioning for Tala to be escorted out.
When she was gone, Karn spoke.
“What happened here?”
“Lady Opal requested an audience when suddenly a man
flew in through the window.”
“Another mage?” Karn asked.
“Yes, carrying an ornamental staff,” Duke Essex
explained.
“What was said?”
“He said he had come to beg me to call off the
soldiers I had sent to the mountains, where he and the
other mages lived. He wanted a truce between us. Then he
mumbled something about losing control of their pawn and
promptly flew out the window.”
“Opal followed him?” Karn asked, but he already knew
the answer.
“Yes. Karn, I fear the enchantress may end up in
trouble. I don’t have soldiers in the mountains, but all
know of the rogues who dwell there.”
“She can take care of herself,” Karn stated bluntly.
After a moment to think, Duke Essex replied, “Aren’t
you concerned for her—”
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Karn raised his voice. “We have more important things
to worry about now, like this war.”
“I agree, however—”
“My lord, I have a plan. It’s risky, but it could
work. First, I need information from someone within
Mustaffa’s ranks.”
“Our prisoner?” Duke Essex smiled wolfishly.
Karn nodded and returned the smile.
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Chapter 47
Homeland
Deep beneath the guards’ quarters, in the west side of
Kel Tora castle, was the prison. In the spirit of Kel Tora,
the prison was kept as clean as its great hall. Duke Essex
told Karn that his prisoners liked to tell tale of how the
bars were made of silver and twinkled when the sun shone
in. Karn took the duke’s comment as a joke, until he saw
just how clean the space.
“Bastards! I’m not telling you anything!” Gregor’s man
spat.
The senior prison guard considered him stonily. “You
have a choice, fellow. You either die down here when
Mustaffa attacks, or we release you just prior to his
invasion, give you a fighting chance.”
“Strike him,” Karn instructed the senior guard.
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“Do what, sir?” The guard looked at Duke Essex for
clarification, but the duke merely nodded once, and kept
silent, and out of view.
“Make a fist and strike him,” Karn ordered again.
“I’ve never struck a prisoner, sir. In all my time as
a guard, I’ve never had to. Not only do our laws prohibit
it, but to strike an unarmed man—”
“This man would kill you, your wife, and your children
if given the chance,” Karn stated coldly.
“Would you?”
“You’re damned right I would.”
The guard drove his fist straight into the bridge of
the prisoner’s nose.
“Was that satisfactory, sir?” the senior guard asked.
To his credit, the prisoner did not cry out. Blood
streamed down his face when he spat in anger, “Bastard! Our
land’s laws forbid torture of prisoners of war.”
Karn paused and then looked at the duke. Although not
a word was spoken, each man knew what the other thought.
“Our land’s laws?” Karn asked.
The prisoner’s voice turned sullen. “I was born in a
fishing village not far from where Mustaffa’s ships landed.
Lived there all my life. When he arrived, there was no
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choice: join him or die. He executed everyone—my father, my
mother, my sisters—and then burned all our homes.”
“And all that makes you loyal to Mustaffa?” Karn
questioned.
“You wouldn’t understand, living here in shiny Kel
Tora. There was nothing left. I was hungry… things are
better now. Better under his rule—” A series of violent
coughs that splattered blood down onto his lap, halted the
prisoner’s speech.
“You uncaring scoundrel!” Duke Essex shouted as he
stepped into the prisoner’s eyeline.
The prisoner’s face went pale white.
“You’re sick!” the duke raged. “He kills your family
and given the choice fight or serve, you serve.”
“I know you,” the prisoner proclaimed. “I must be
pretty damn important for you to be here.”
“You? No, you’re nothing but a rabid animal,” Duke
Essex said, and then promptly turned his back on the
prisoner.
“My lord?” Karn asked. “What do you want to do with
this rabid animal?”
“Kill him,” Duke Essex ordered as he walked out the
prison. “Make it as painful as you can.”
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“What? No,” Mustaffa’s man pleaded. “Don’t kill me!
I’ll talk!”
Karn shot a quick glance across the room at Duke
Essex, who stood once more out of the prisoner’s line of
sight. The duke smiled and then nodded.
***
A little while later, an eerie silence cloaked Kel
Tora’s throne room. Duke Essex waited impatiently for Karn
to return with the information, and prayed it would be good
news. At long last, Karn stormed in, Lieutenant Hart at his
side.
“General, good news, I hope,” Duke Essex said by way
of greeting.
“Bad news.”
“Tell me,” he sighed.
“We discovered that Mustaffa travels near the head of
his army, yet not far enough ahead that we could isolate
him from his soldiers.”
“Blast!” Duke Essex rubbed his head. “Well, perhaps
it’s for the better.”
“Sir, this doesn’t change the fact that we’re going
into battle.” Karn nodded. “And I have a new plan.”
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“General, if you want to throw away your life, I
cannot stop you,” Duke Essex said. “But the lives of my
soldiers are a different affair. Right, Lieutenant Hart?”
“Sir.” Lieutenant Hart bowed.
“How do you feel about suicide, Lieutenant?” he asked.
“My unit and I agree that our lives are a small price
to pay for the freedom of Kel Tora and her families.”
“Brave.” Duke Essex scowled. “Very well. You have my
full support and I wish you success.” After a long pause,
he continued, “Before you leave, I would like the two of
you to join me for a formal dinner. Kel Tora will host one
last celebration before this dreadful war reaches us.”
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Chapter 48
Reality
After sorting out his thoughts, Karn returned to his
room—and Tala. When he entered, she was sitting on the
floor in the middle of the room, feeding grapes to a small
grey squirrel. Both the squirrel’s ears and Tala’s were
perked up. Tala giggled as she looked at Karn and tossed a
grape at his armored chest. It bounced and fell to the
floor, where the squirrel scurried off to retrieve it.
“Nice squirrel.”
“Thanks. He came through the window around nightfall.
I thought it would be kind to share my snack with him.”
“Sorry I’ve been so long. Are you hungry?”
“Not terribly. Elves can live on air and sunshine if
they need to,” she added, then gave him an arch look.
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Too consumed with his own thoughts to care whether or
not that was a joke, Karn sat on the side of the bed and
flopped backward, lying down.
Tala crawled across the floor to his side and
whispered, “This war is taking its toll on you, lover.” She
rubbed his leg. “Care to go for a walk?”
“That… yes, that might be nice.”
***
Tala dragged Karn through the maze of hallways,
eventually exiting near the royal garden. There were few
things Tala enjoyed more than the brisk night air; it
infused her with energy, and Karn swore he could feel it
tingle in her hand as he held it in his.
“So what happened today?” Tala’s asked.
“Can we talk about that later?” Karn shook his head.
“To be honest, I’d rather talk about us.”
“Oh, really?” Tala smiled and paused at a row of red
daffodils to smell them.
“Where do you swim at night, Tala?”
“You want to go swimming?”
“Why not?” Karn shrugged.
“Well, there’s a small lake in the forest.” She
pointed. “There’s a deep, slow-flowing stream nearby too.”
“Where did you go last night?”
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Tala took a deep breath before she answered, “The
lake.”
“Then take me to your lake.”
***
The forest seemed darker than usual that night and
grew even darker with every step they took. As soon as they
were away from the glow of the city’s lights, Tala stepped
off the dirt path. Karn followed, amazed by how well she
could traverse the deep forest terrain in the murky
shadows. If it were not for her, he knew he would have
tripped on the uneven ground.
Karn was just about to ask her how she moved so
surefooted when he caught a glimpse of her ears shimmering
in the moonlight. She’s an elf. That’s the answer.
“What bothers you so deeply, that I can hear your mind
at work?”
Karn laughed before he answered, “There’s just so much
I don’t know about you, Tala.”
“Exciting, I know. Just think about it: we have the
rest of our lives to discover each other.”
The rest of our lives, Karn thought. How long might
that be? We could both be dead in only a few days. Oddly
enough, it was the first time since he awakened from his
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injuries after Weiden’s Rise’s invasion that he had even
contemplated death. It gave him the chills.
Karn took a slow, deep breath. “Tala, I was just
curious… do you have any children?”
“No. I’m too young.”
“Oh.” Karn felt dense. “How old are elves when they
normally… have children?”
“In human or elven summer cycles?” she asked with a
smirk.
“I’m serious.”
“Such a strange question, General Karn,” she replied
in a sarcastic military fashion. “Well, elves normally
don’t have children until they are a few summers older than
I am now.”
“Because of your age.”
“Because of population,” Tala answered. “In theory, we
could outnumber humans in only ten or twenty summers. Yet
we would never do that because of nature’s balance.”
“Here you had me thinking it was not possible.”
“Anything’s possible.” She smiled. “We’re getting
close to the lake. Can you hear the water?”
Karn listened carefully. He could hear owls, alerting
one another of danger, insects, and the wind rustling the
autumn leaves. But he couldn’t hear any water.
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“No.”
“Look ahead.” Tala pointed.
A dozen or more weeping willows encircled a lake that
must have been close to ten times the size of Kel Tora’s
fountain. The willows’ drooping branches hung down low,
their tips in the water as a child would dip their toes on
a warm day. An azure glow rose from the water and painted
the trees. At first, Karn thought it was the moon’s
reflection off the water, but as he looked closer, he
realized that the glow he saw was not on top of the water
but, bizarrely, underneath it.
“Do you see that?” His voice was loud with excitement.
“See what?” Tala asked.
“The water’s glowing.” Karn pointed as he stepped back
away from the oddity.
“You can see the glow?” Tala’s voice spiked with
surprise.
“Yes! What the hell is it?”
Karn reached for his sword, but Tala stayed his hand.
“Humans are not supposed to be able to see that.”
“See what?”
Tala did not answer. She cocked her head and walked in
a circle around him. Her gaze went up and down as she
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moved. Karn knew that look; she was carefully examining
him. But for what? he wondered. What’s happening?
Once she completed her fourth circle, she stepped
decisively to the water’s edge.
“Tala.”
She ignored him and continued on, kneeling down by the
water and scooping some into her hands.
“Tala?” Karn called again as she carried the water to
him.
“What do you see in this water, Karn?”
Karn looked at the water. To his surprise, it lay
still and dark, not at all like the water that lapped the
lakeshore behind her.
“Nothing. I see nothing.”
“What do you see now?”
Tala turned her back to Karn and threw the cupped
water from her hands back into the lake. As the water
arched in the air, it started to shine, and then, just
before it splashed into the lake, it sparkled with a
dazzling blue light that vanished upon hitting the water.
“That… that was beautiful.” He smiled. “Tala, I—”
“Karn, look at me. Humans are not supposed to be able
to perceive this.”
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“You said that already,” Karn acknowledged. “What is
it? Is this some sort of elf magic?”
“No!” she said sharply. “Not magic!”
“Then what?”
“I’ve shared with you many elven mysteries, but this
is one of nature’s most precious secrets.” She paused and
laughed. “You know. I’m happy you can see this. I am. It
only proves further what I’ve known since we met. It proves
that you’re a good man, Karn.”
“Thanks,” he muttered, not sure how to respond.
“I want to tell you something more.” Tala stomped her
foot and grunted with clear frustration. “Gah. I’m afraid
to, but why should I be? We’re lifemates. I should be
allowed to tell you anything. I-just promise me, what I
share with you here you’ll never tell anyone else.”
“Of course, Tala.”
Karn watched her return to the edge of the lake and
sit down. She carefully took off her boots and set them
beside her.
“A long time ago, there were many more creatures in
this land. Dozens more than the ones you humans have
documented.” Tala looked up to the sky and drew and deep
breath, which she pushed out through her pursed lips. “As
you well know, humans are the most destructive of all
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animals. They don’t share nature; they exploit it. The
human population grew and grew, displacing the other races,
which gradually died off. One race that survived along with
the elves and other forest creatures were the fairies.”
“Fairies?” Karn whispered to himself. He had heard
children’s stories, but never thought any of them were
true.
“Humans became quickly fascinated by what they
referred to as Little Flower Children. You all tried to
keep fairies as pets.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Fairy-kind was nearly extinct when they finally went
into hiding. And as the days and weeks passed, Mother
Nature came to their rescue. She helped them adapt to their
surroundings. She aided the fairies until at last they
became invisible to the human eye.”
“Is that—”
“They adapt so well to their environment that they
actually become one with it,” Tala explained. “The water,
that glow you see is from a fairy’s wings.”
Karn could not contain his surprise. “Amazing!”
“Everything your eyes see… every day is amazing.
Nature alone is a marvel most humans take for granted.
Learn to respect it and it will open up to you.”
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He watched as Tala sprung to her feet, then pulled off
her brown leather dress with one steady motion.
“What are you doing?” Karn asked.
“Going for a swim, remember?”
“In that?” he pointed at the lake.
“Of course. It’s only water,” she said.
Karn sat down next to her boots and watched as she
dove into the water. A heartbeat later, she rose to the
surface near the middle of the small lake.
“I love this lake,” she called happily to him.
Something about the way the water glimmered made Tala
look even more beautiful than usual. The odd underwater
glow highlighted her naked body, and made it easy to see
her swim. Tala swam like a fish—fast and confident. Karn
watched her dive deep, almost out of sight, only to dart,
moments later, to the surface and back down again.
“Join me,” she cooed.
“What?”
“Is my bare body not invitation enough, Nathan?” Tala
called from the water, raking her hair from her face.
Nathan? Who is Nathan?
“What did you say?” he asked her.
“I asked you to join me, lover.”
“No. Did you call me Nathan?”
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“What?” she yelled back as the water splashed at her
ears.
“Did you call me Nathan?”
“I cannot hear you! Swim out here if you want to talk
to me.”
Karn stripped down and dove in. The moment he hit the
water he thrashed about like a child who had never swam
before, and soon after jumped right back out. Over the
chatter of his teeth, he heard Tala howl with laughter.
“Sorry.” She laughed so hard she could barely speak.
“I forgot to tell…”
“You forgot to tell me…”
“Yes,” she laughed. “I forgot to tell you that the
water was very, very cold.”
“I should—”
“You should what?” She tilted her head back. “You
can’t catch me in here.”
“Then come out…” Karn’s words died in his mouth.
Before his eyes, what looked to be a young woman yet one
foot tall, emerged from the center of the lake. Although
unprepared for the sight, Karn was sure this was none other
than the fairy Tala mentioned.
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The tiny creature flew high above the water and
circled the lake once. When she flew by Karn, his skin
tingled.
“No. No. No!” Tala called out as she swam frantically
to the edge of the lake.
Tala dressed as the fairy circled, slowing down to
hover only a few inches in front of them. At that point,
Karn could finally see her. A sense of pure tranquility
washed over him. She’s beautiful.
The little being had pale-blue hair that was long and
wavy. So tiny, he thought. So fragile, like a humming bird.
As he stared, he realized the fairy wore nothing, save for
a silver ribbon that slithered around her body as if it
were alive. He felt as if he should look away, but then she
darted directly in front of Tala.
Although full of awe, Karn was still stunned when the
fairy finally spoke. To him, it sounded like a dozen
children all whispering at the same moment, yet slightly
out of sync. He could not understand her language, but Tala
listened intently. She knows the fairy’s tongue? When Tala
replied, Karn was astounded and looked at her in
bewilderment. She-something’s wrong, he thought as he
watched Tala’s mood turn melancholy.
“Why tonight?” Tala whined.
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The fairy’s voice grew louder when Tala spoke in the
human tongue, scolding and harsh.
“Yes, I do,” Tala replied to the fairy. “Well, it
happened, and I’m happy it did!”
“Tala?” Karn called out to her hesitantly.
“Not tonight. Tonight was going to be special.”
Karn looked back and forth between the two as they
argued. He wished he knew what was being said; Tala was
angrier now than he had ever seen her.
“I’ve done everything you asked me to do for the past
thirteen months! Please, not tonight.”
The fairy’s voice stopped, and the silence left in its
wake was staggering.
“What’s going on, Tala?”
Before she could reply, the fairy spoke again.
“Greetings,” came a birdlike yet commanding voice.
Karn looked to Tala for answers.
“Karn, this is Drae’Qu.”
“Greetings, Drae’Qu.”
“I am pleased that Tala brought you to my home. There
is much you need to know before you confront the warlord
Naraboo, or as you humans refer to him, Mustaffa.”
“How do you know all this?”
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“I exist as Mother Nature’s conduit. I know much of
this region, including your past… Nathan.”
There was that name again, Karn thought, though this
time it sounded much more familiar to him. “Nathan?”
The fairy buzzed over to Karn, hovering so close to
his face that he flinched. He expected the glow of her
wings to warm his skin, but there was only the cool night
breeze as Drae’Qu’s glow faded slightly.
“Please, Drae’Qu,” Tala pleaded one last time.
“Please, not tonight.”
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Chapter 49
Ruined
Tala knew what was coming next. Drae’Qu’s going to
ruin everything.
Tala’s chest tightened and she felt like she was
falling. She took Karn’s hand in hers and held it firm
against her heart. As Drae’Qu spoke, Karn’s knuckles turned
pink and then white in Tala’s grip.
“For many generations, the mages from the northern
mountains have labored to conquer Illyia.”
I can’t breathe. Tala gasped. It feels like I’m
drowning. Again…
“Those mages,” Karn groaned. “I hate them.”
“It seems that you and the warlord Naraboo have much
more in common then we imagined.” When Drae’Qu said this,
her eyes briefly shifted to Tala.
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“What are you saying?” Karn looked puzzled as he
looked to Tala. “What’s she saying, Tala?”
Tala did not answer; she knew it was not her turn to
speak.
“What I am saying is that you have been the mages’
pawn for several months now.” Drae’Qu’s voice sliced
through the silence.
“You lie.”
“I only speak the truth.” The fairy crossed her arms.
“It is you who exist as a lie, Nathan.”
Tala gasped for air; the overload of emotions made her
choke. She had not felt like this in years. With a tear in
her eye and a tiny frown on her face, she mouthed, “I’m
sorry.”
“No. This cannot be true.”
Drae’Qu emitted a small pulse of light, pulling their
attention back to her. “Do you remember Margeaux?” she
asked.
“The dream…” Karn scowled. “How do you know about
that?”
“Not a dream—a wife, Nathan. Margeaux belongs to your
true past.”
“Wait. I don’t understand. What does this mean?” Karn
said to Tala.
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Tala closed her eyes and tried to escape the moment.
She’s going to show him, and he’s not going to understand.
She’s ruining everything.
“I can show you your past, help you understand your
present, and even prepare you for your future. First, I
need two things from you.”
“What do you need?”
Tala wanted to speak up, but she knew she couldn’t.
She had made promises that she could not break. No, Karn.
Don’t make the same mistake I did.
“The first one will be far easier than the second,”
Drae’Qu teased as she flew off toward the center of the
lake.
Karn had lost his patience. “Enough riddles!”
“I need your allegiance and your trust,” came
Drae’Qu’s small voice from across the water; she sounded as
accustomed to command as the Duke of Kel Tora.
Once again, Karn looked to Tala for help, this time
she answered, coldly, “You can trust her.”
“Fine, my trust? You have it. My allegiance, though?
Explain to whom.”
“To the goddess: Mother Nature. Promise you will fight
against evil as long as you live.”
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“I’m a soldier of honor. I have always fought against
evil, and I’ll continue to do so until the moment I die.”
Tala hung her head and released Karn’s hand. She
sighed. This could have ended differently.
“Good. Come closer to the water,” Drae’Qu said, waving
him forward.
As Karn moved toward the shore, a chill crept across
Tala’s back. She staggered back a step, and wrapped her
arms around herself.
I never should’ve brought you here… was all she
thought.
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Chapter 50
Broke
“Gaze upon your true past, Nathan.”
The water in front of Karn turned bright blue, and
then, slowly, other colors emerged. Red, yellow, and white
all appeared until finally the ripples calmed and an image
appeared. Karn had seen many astounding sights before, many
this very night, but he never imagined that he would gaze
into the water like a window into the past.
He recognized himself right away, but not as the
soldier he thought he remembered. He was dressed as a
common fisherman. His reflection had shorter hair and he
was sans both his beard and seemingly a few months of wear.
He watched himself walk down a path into a town he could
not identify. The buildings looked somewhat familiar,
structures made entirely of wood and twine; yet as hard as
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he tried, Karn could not name this underdeveloped town at
the sea’s edge.
Karn watched as the vision of his younger self walked
contentedly through town. He waved to everyone who he
passed. Karn wrung his hands as tiny details—like the feel
of the leather-handled fishing rod against his palms, the
smell of the caught fish, and the sensation of pride in a
good day’s work—returned to him.
Just as Karn became comfortable with the vision of
himself, he spotted something unnerving: the blonde child
from the vision he had.
“S-Sabrina?” he whispered to himself.
Karn stared as the beautiful girl ran to his double
and embraced him. His eyes filled with tears. As he wiped
them away, he saw another person approach his past self, a
tall, slender blonde woman. My god, it’s her, Karn thought
as he laid his eyes on Margeaux.
“I dreamed of her,” Karn breathed, as he watched her
kiss him. “This is a dream?”
“Not a dream. This is your past. The sum of fewer
months than—”
“I-I was a soldier in Weiden’s Rise’s cavalry until
the attack,” Karn interrupted. “I fought…”
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“That is what they made you believe. The truth is that
you were a simple fisherman with a loving family.”
Her words make no sense… But then, Karn felt the
memories he thought were reality begin to wash away. The
truth was uncovered. Who am I?
He closed his eyes and
shook his head. He still had no full sense of a past life.
Was I really a fisherman? Was this my family?
“The mages cast a very strong spell on you. In fact,
it was the very same spell they used on the warlord
Naraboo,” Drae’Qu explained. “The spell takes the captured
soul of a warlord from long ago and imprints it on the
target. All his skills become the target’s, and so does his
thirst for blood.”
“This…” Karn opened his eyes and uttered in disbelief,
“This cannot be.”
“Later, the mages enchanted you again. They gave you
increased strength and further used their corrupt magic to
suppress your actual memory. They replaced your true past
with one they fabricated.”
“No!” Karn shouted as he stepped into the water in
front of him and put an end to the images that rippled atop
the water. “How could they have done all this without Opal
knowing?”
“Nathan—”
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“My name is Karn.”
“Nathan, tell me when you met Opal,” Drae’Qu demanded.
“Opal and I grew up together in Weiden’s Rise…” Karn
trailed off a moment. “No, wait, no, Margeaux and I grew up
together in a little fishing town called—”
“The village of Werr Nax,” Drae’Qu finished for him.
“Werr Nax,” he echoed solemnly.
“You see, Nathan, the mages needed to keep one of
their own close to you at all times. That person would not
only act as a guard but would maintain magical control over
you to keep your true memories buried deeply. That mage was
Opal.”
Opal, he repeated in his head. Karn would have been
surprised; he would have felt deeply betrayed, but his
feelings for Opal had all but vanished. When he thought
about her now, he felt only emptiness and now a growing
distrust. She betrayed me.
“Why would she do this to me?” he whispered. “I
thought she—”
“She lied to you. However, yours and Opal’s pasts are
indeed intertwined.”
Karn closed his eyes again. He tried to clear his
head, make sense of something, anything. “How?”
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“From the time you were a young boy, your family and
her family did business together, trading goods. Each
spring and fall, your fathers would meet. Do you remember
your trips with your father?”
“Yes.” Karn pondered his childhood. “I went with him
for many seasons before… before he died.”
“It was during one of those trips that you met Opal.”
Karn opened his eyes and smiled. “I do remember one of
the men my father traded with bringing his daughter with
him during our meetings.” Karn concentrated, trying to
remember details. “She was skinny, with long braids.”
“Opal harbored a secret affection for you from the day
she first laid eyes on you, Nathan, but you ignored her.
Through the many trips, as you helped your father with his
trade, you paid no mind to her advances. Sick with
dejection and anger, Opal left home.”
Karn rubbed his eyes with frustration. Enough, he
thought as he turned and walked back to where Tala stood
silently.
“All this?” Karn waved his hands up in the air. “Am I
to believe all this is because I ignored some shy little
girl when I was a child myself?”
“I’m afraid so, Karn.”
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He kicked the water and shouted, “I want to remember
everything! I want to know what was done to me!”
“Calm yourself. I told you the mages cast powerful
magic on you,” Drae’Qu continued. “You are fortunate that
your soul can be saved.”
“Saved? If this soul spell is so damned powerful, then
how did I break free of it?” Karn grumbled, looking at
Tala. “I am free of it, right?”
Tala’s shoulders slumped further and she averted her
eyes. Karn did not like what her body language conveyed.
“Tala—” Drae’Qu began, confirming his suspicions.
“Tala,” Karn interrupted. “Did you have something to
do with this too?” he asked.
“Nathan, Tala helped me aid in your recovery,” Drae’Qu
explained.
“Did you?” he asked her.
The fairy’s birdlike voice rose to a shrill level.
“Nathan?”
“What?”
“Look at me. Listen to me,” Drae’Qu said as she
pointed at him. “It was known to me that you would travel
to the human kingdom of Kel Tora to seek allies. So I
prepared a solution. I enchanted Tala’s body with a cure,
one that would dispel the mage’s domination over you. When
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she touched you, it removed their enthrallment. Mother
Nature’s magic may be slow at times, but soon it will purge
you of all the mages’ lies and restore your reality.”
Karn’s thoughts were muddled. He was overwhelmed by
everything Drae’Qu had told him. He worked to push all the
jumbled thoughts out. Dump them to the floor, then start
over, pick up only the things you need. Just like you were
taught—taught by your father. Your true father. Father,
wife, family—they were words that stuck like thorns
painfully in his heart.
“My family… What happened to them?”
Karn tried once more to regain eye contact with Tala
and even whispered her name, but she refused to look up.
“What happened to Margeaux and my child, Drae’Qu?”
“They were killed,” Drae’Qu stated, not a hint of
emotion in her voice.
Karn dropped to his knees in the water; he felt numb
all over. He was sad, but did not cry. He was angry, but he
did not scream.
The rustle of Tala behind him distracted him. Does she
know this all already, or is this news to her as well? Did
she know and not tell me the truth?
“Damn it. Show me. Show me what happened! Show me
their deaths!” Karn demanded.
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“The pain you feel… it is dampened by anger. Do not
think this is your fault; it is not. It is the mage’s soul
spell that muddles your emotions and turns your melancholy
to rage.”
“Enough. Show me.”
The fairy fluttered back some. “Very well, but you
have my warning.”
The waters of the lake swirled and turned other shades
of color again. Slowly, a new image arose from the ripples.
Nestled comfortably amongst trees was the small fishing
village of Werr Nax. No more than a collection of wooden
shacks, the place seemed too simple to be the birth of such
violent beginnings.
It was late at night and the village itself was still,
draped in pure darkness. Outside a group of six small
homes, a magical portal peeled opened. The portal lit the
town like the morning sun, but the purple light did not
shine for long. After two mages stepped out from the
whirlpool of light, it vanished. Karn recognized the magic—
and both mages. One was the old mage he saw defeated only
weeks ago, a man named Malek. The other, who stood brazenly
at his side wearing a hooded robe marked with intertwined
circles, was Opal.
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After a nod at Opal, Malek raised his staff to the
wooden door of the cabin, which Karn recognized as his old
home. The door crept open and the two entered without
hesitation. Moments later, Karn saw himself walk from the
back of the room, seemingly half-awake. Surprised by the
intruders, he reached for a club kept alongside his fishing
gear.
Karn watched himself cross the room toward Malek and
Opal, the makeshift weapon held high in the air. But before
he could attack, the old mage waved his staff, and Karn
fell lifeless into Malek’s thin arms.
This can’t be true. This can’t be happening. As Karn
watched the past events, his chest filled with anxiety. If
I could only transport myself back there. I could fight
them. I could protect my family.
Karn fantasized about killing Malek; he imagined his
arm around the old man’s frail neck, but before his fantasy
could reach a satisfying end, the old mage disappeared in a
puff of smoke, absconding with the mirror image of Karn.
“Bastard.”
Although Malek had left, Opal still stood in his home.
A sour sensation dropped into Karn’s stomach—he guessed
what would happen next. “No, no, no…”
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Drae’Qu’s image of Opal stepped into the back room of
Karn’s cabin and found Karn’s wife and daughter, huddled
together in a corner behind a small bed and clothes trunk.
Margeaux opened her mouth in a scream, but the fairy’s
mystical image produced no sound. Still, Karn did not have
to hear the words to know what was said. He could tell by
her hand gestures and the desperate look in her eyes. She’s
begging for our daughter’s life.
Karn watched Opal raise her hands to her face, gently
touching her thumbs and index fingers together in a diamond
formation that framed her forehead. Dark red sparkles of
light formed around the room and fluttered toward Opal’s
hands like tiny fireflies. As the sparkles grew in number,
the tiny lights joined together and formed one big one.
Then, with a smooth and practiced move, Opal separated her
hands and pushed them toward Margeaux and Sabrina. The red
glow shot out in the form of a thick beam of concentrated
light, enveloping Karn’s family.
“No!” Karn shouted as he watched the light turn from a
dark red to a orange-red.
At first, he could not tell what the spell had done,
besides irradiate them in a deep vermillion glow. Perhaps
he was wrong; maybe Opal was not there to harm them, but to
protect them instead. The red aura always ushers healing.
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Karn looked at his family and then back to Opal. She
had stood still since she cast the spell, but she suddenly
stirred. She lifted her hands and formed the same diamond
shape over her forehead.
Karn watched as Margeaux’s slim body shook with a
sudden violent convulsion. Her arms flailed to her sides
then up to her head, where they clawed at her own skin. His
daughter, Sabrina, suffered from the same seizures and fell
face-first onto the hardwood floor.
Margeaux’s hair had begun to change from blonde to
white, and when her hands finally dropped down from her
face, they revealed deep bleeding red claw marks.
“By the gods, what’s she doing to them?” Karn shouted.
Drae’Qu crossed her arms. “Opal is stealing their life
force,” she stated. “Behold.”
Opal drew her hands back close to her chest and the
orange-red glow shot back to her. The motion whipped back
the bodies of Opal’s victims, flipping Sabrina onto her
back and bending Margeaux over until her spine snapped.
“Stop!” Karn yelled, but nothing could be done.
Opal’s body glowed the same color as her victims had,
but unlike them, she reveled in the spell. As Opal basked
in the life energy she had stolen from Karn’s family,
Margeaux struggled to aid her daughter. She tried to move,
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but only her left arm seemed to work. She drug her broken
body to the side, just enough to face her daughter.
A murky despair was written all over Margeaux’s face
when she laid eyes on her daughter’s ashen skin and her
once-beautiful blonde hair, which was now white and mostly
gone. Sabrina’s cheeks, which had only moments before been
full and rosy, were now colorless and sunken in. Sabrina.
Margeaux… He held back his tears. It was obvious to Karn
that what little life Margeaux had left had been torn from
her body with the realization that their daughter was dead.
Karn watched as Opal ran her hands down the front of
her body to straighten her robes. Like a predator, she
moved closer and took one last look at her prey. Does she
feel any remorse? Any at all?
Karn watched in disbelief as Opal walked out of the
cabin. Before she closed the door, she snapped her fingers.
A minuscule dancing flame popped into existence in her
hand. She smiled. She must enjoy this. The killing. She’s
sick—but before he could finish the thought, she tossed the
bright red fire inside and close the door behind her.
“Enough,” Karn spoke plainly.
“So be it.”
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Karn’s stomach flopped like a fish out of water. He
would have vomited had he eaten that day; instead, he dry
heaved for a second.
“She burned the cabin.” Karn’s voice cracked with
anger as he moved back and forth.
“Yes, and with it what the mages thought would be any
proof of your former life.”
Karn pounded his fists into the wet mud at the water’s
edge. “I trusted that lying bitch. Protected her,” he
cried. “When I find her, I will shove my blade down her
throat until she chokes on her own lifeblood!”
“This war is your priority. You must—”
“You expect me to let the death of my family go
unavenged?”
“No, Nathan,” Drae’Qu interrupted. “There are others
who seek to destroy her. Her death is their task. She will
get what she deserves. I promise.”
“Others?”
Drae’Qu buzzed closer. “Naraboo, like you, has had his
life ruined by the mages. Exiled ages ago, he has returned
and now marches directly north to the mages’ home. He has
destroyed each kingdom in his way, killed countless
families, and if he succeeds in defeating the mages once
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and for all, there will be scant few left who can stop him
from conquering the whole island.”
“I am not like him,” Karn said. “And I will see Opal
pay for what she has done to me.”
The fairy shook her head. “Tala, is there anything you
need before I retire?”
“No, you’ve done enough,” Tala grumbled.
“Very well. I have given you much tonight, Nathan.
Return tomorrow if you need more.”
Drae’Qu darted out to the center of the quiet water
and dove straight down into the darkness. Moments later,
the glow of her wings illuminated the lake, as they had
earlier.
Tala whispered, “My deepest apologies. I-I know all
too well how you feel.”
Karn turned to Tala, the look of a stumbling drunkard
on his tired face. “Why me?”
“Fate,” Tala answered flatly.
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Chapter 51
Reunion
Opal had been sure Malek was dead; seeing him now made
her blood boil. She tightened her fist until her knuckles
began to crack. What was I thinking? Chasing one of his
students across the skies; no idea where he was going… I
never wanted to return here.
Although it was dark out, Opal could clearly see the
debris spilled across the tall grass. Something burned atop
the mountain, illuminating everything. Being there filled
Opal with an odd sense of déjà vu. It feels like I was just
here, in this stone-cluttered field yesterday.
Before Malek could say anything, Opal sized him up.
She imagined a spell, one that would set him ablaze from
the inside out, burn his skin off and turn it to a fine
ash. He was her enemy—in fact, all mages were now. He’s
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ruined my life, and he should die for that. So why don’t I
kill him? Why don’t I rend the flesh from his bones?
“I thought you were dead,” Opal said calmly to Malek.
“All of you.”
“Nearly,” the mage she had chased whispered. “We
escaped before the collapse. Max had—”
“What do you want from me? Why did you seek me out?
Make it good; you’ve already wasted enough of my time.” As
she spoke, her eyes fixed once more on the remains of the
fortress on top of the mountain. This time, the sight told
her a different story. From what she could make out, the
structure was split in half, with the surviving portion—the
side that housed the students—still in relatively good
shape. “Did anyone else survive? Any of the other
students?”
“Five of us ferried ten of the younger students out
during the assault. It pains me to tell you this, Opal, but
Elizabeth was killed in the attack,” the student said.
The volcano inside Opal’s chest rumbled with each
word. “I know… I saw her die.”
“Then you faced Maximilian with his amplified powers
and survived,” Malek finally said. “You’ve become a very
powerful mage, Opal. You could easily subdue what remains
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of the High Council, but I have come to warn you of one
thing before you do.”
“Make it quick, Malek,” Opal snapped.
“Girl, there’s so little you know of the High Council,
an entity that has been here for over five hundred
summers,” Malek replied.
“And?” Opal goaded.
“Do you see that glow of light up there? That is no
fire.”
“Looks like a portal.”
“It’s no portal either. There are things buried deep
inside the basement of the fortress. Things only the
archmages knew of. That is one of them, something only our
Supreme Leader knew the purpose of.”
“And?”
“And now it sits exposed to the elements and anyone
brave enough to climb to the peak of our mountain.”
Although Malek’s words chilled her to the core, Opal
would not show him fear. “Your point?”
“You cannot destroy powers as strong as the High
Council’s without repercussions, Opal.”
“Is that what you wanted to warn me about?”
Opal crossed her arms and widened her stance. She drew
a deep breath and looked directly at Malek.
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“No.” He sighed and looked away. “I realize you feel
slighted by the High Council. Much of what Horus told you
was true, but there are important details he did not share.
Our kind, our abilities are only passed on from mother to
child. Don’t you see, Opal? Only a woman who has magical
powers within herself can bear a child with the same
powers.”
“More lies?”
“Why do you think we take such interest in the female
students within the High Council? You are our future.”
“My mother was no—”
“She was, Opal. I knew her well,” Malek interrupted.
Opal stepped back. Malek’s words shook her. Phantom
cramps pierced her stomach. I’ve lost Karn’s baby. A child
that would have been a mage… like me.
“We need to protect you and the child.” Malek pointed
at her belly.
“Protect my child?” Opal repeated his words, as she
tried to make sense of them.
“You carry a child bred from a man enchanted with a
warlord’s soul,” the student added. “Unrefined power will
certainly surge through his child’s body like blood flows
through our veins.”
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Truth or lies, Opal was more surprised that Malek was
unaware of her loss.
“Our kind faces extinction. Your child could be a new
beginning.”
“Just stop, Malek. Stop talking!” Opal snapped.
A moment of silence passed as Opal walked around in a
small circle. She glanced at the two men and then the top
of the fortress. She looked back in the direction of Kel
Tora, thinking of what had happened there.
“Opal, regarding the Rook,” Malek said, changing the
topic. “Weakened as we are, the spells we cast on him—”
“Will he remember everything?” Opal’s heart skipped at
the thought.
“In time he will. He may already have. Face to face
contact with him now could have a dangerous outcome.”
Opal stomped her foot on the wet grass as she put her
fists on her hips. How did I lose control? How did I let
everything become so muddied? Opal looked at the two men, a
lust for blood on her tongue. Them… they made this mess.
They should pay for it.
“Opal, you cannot deny that these lands will be
conquered unless we mages do something. Our enemy still
needs to be stopped.”
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Opal held silent while she tried to push her rage back
down, cage it up, and control her thoughts. When she was
ready to speak she said, “Do not! Do not assume that I’ve
rejoined the High Council.” Opal pointed a finger at both
men. “What should I do?”
“Rest. The battle to come will require most of your
energy. Follow us; we have a secret lair you’ll be safe in
until the time arrives to strike.”
Malek sounded as friendly as she had ever heard him.
Unnerved by his words, Opal took another step back. She
knew the mages had limitless resources when it came to
treachery. This could be just another one of their plans to
manipulate or worse, ambush me, Opal thought with another
look around. I need to take control.
“I will return to Kel Tora.”
“What? What is so important that you would risk all to
return to a kingdom that has mage hunters in their ranks,
Opal?”
“I formed a relationship with the Duke of Kel Tora,
and he has resources-supplies for me.”
“We should let her go,” the student urged Malek. “Be
mindful of danger, Opal; it exists in many forms.”
“Meet us tomorrow night.” Malek’s face bore a clear
look of disappointment.
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Opal nodded. Her mind was already set to summon a
magical portal. A powerful gust of wind rumbled down from
the mountains; it held a wintery chill that made her
shiver. Debris from the mages’ home blew in a circle around
the magical portal as it opened. Opal made eye contact with
Malek one last time, in effort to read the man’s
intentions. He has death in his eyes. He cannot be trusted,
but who else do I have?
Once the portal was fully open, she stepped backward
through it and promptly transported herself away.
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Chapter 52
Unavoidable
Outside Kel Tora’s tall iron gates, on the moonlit
dirt path that led to town, Tala tugged at Karn’s arm and
asked him to stop walking a moment. He had been silent much
of the way back while Tala wrestled with the decision to
tell him something very important. She had finally raised
enough courage.
“You need to know something else,” Tala said
sheepishly.
“More bad news?” Karn stopped and sighed loudly.
“No, not bad news—a secret I want to share with you.”
Tala moved around in front of him.
“I’m flattered, but—”
“Karn, it’s important.” She raised her voice.
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“Important, Tala? Important is knowing what my real
name is!” Karn snapped.
Tala stood still. She stared deep into his eyes until
he relaxed. When his irritation waned, she spoke again.
“You are what your actions speak, Karn.”
Karn plopped down on top of a rotten tree stump,
placed his head in his hands, and rested his elbows on his
knees. “My actions? I’m having trouble telling which
memories are real.”
She knelt down in front of him and ran her hand
through his hair. “I’m sorry this happened. I wish we
could’ve simply gone for a swim and made love to the gray
owl’s cry tonight,” Tala whispered in his ear.
Karn looked up, nose to nose with Tala. “You mean you
did not take me to that lake to meet the fairy?”
“No, no, no.” Tala shook her head so hard her hair
whipped into his face.
“How can I trust you?”
Stunned, Tala frowned. “You are my lifemate, Karn. My
life for you, as your life for me.” Tala gripped her elven
necklace.
“And the fairy?”
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“It is true, I have done the fairy’s clandestine
biddings, but I love you, which is why I want to tell you
my secret.”
“Go ahead.” Karn exhaled noisily, rubbing his head.
Tala sat down on the dirt path, crossed her legs, and
straightened her back. She drew a deep breath then exhaled
it at a measured pace. You can do this…
“I’ve been having the same dream since I was very
young. Almost every night, over and over again,” Tala
began. “One day, as a child, I had what the elders refer to
as a waking dream: a vision. It came to me while I was
swimming with a group of other children. Atop a mound of
broken wood and stone, I saw a tall, dark man. He was
glowing with a bright blue, magical aura. I saw the lands
of Illyia smoldering around him, from the southern shores
to the northern mountains. Many others have had the dream,
Karn, but none the vision. These dreams have become a
legend amongst the elves, fairies, and other of nature’s
kindred. But the vision…”
A moment passed before Karn said anything, and when he
did, it was with a harsh seriousness that frightened Tala.
“My wife and daughter are dead. The memories of a life
I felt were real are lies. My life has been ruined—ruined
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twice over. Right now, I’m unable to feel anything other
than revulsion and fury.”
“Then use it,” Tala stated firmly.
“Oh, yes. From now on, I am going to utilize my rage
to destroy Mustaffa. You know why, Tala? Because this war
is all I have left.” Karn stood and stretched his legs.
“No, that’s not all you have, Karn,” she said, tearing
up. “You have me, and together we could have a child that
would usher peace to this land.”
“If we survive.”
“We will.”
“I hope you’re right, Tala.” Karn sighed. “Now let’s
go. Many preparations need to be made.”
After he helped her to her feet, he briskly walked off
toward Kel Tora’s gate. Tala held back and watched him as
left, her eyes fixed on his back. After he was a dozen or
more steps away, Tala spoke softly, as if she were still
having a conversation him. Carefully, she recited the very
words Drae’Qu had spoke to her many months ago.
“The victors of this war will be rewarded with many
spoils, but not all will be in the form of gold or jeweled
treasure. One will a child. And that child will have a
unique bloodline and powers unlike any other human.”
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Chapter 53
Preparations
Karn rose with the sun and spent all morning preparing
with Lieutenant Hart and his men. By the midday, he was
ready to reveal the details of his new strategy, a plan
that required subterfuge, guile, and a lot of luck.
Shoulder to shoulder, in a tight circle with his men,
Karn began to sketch his plan in the earth with his tip of
his sword.
“We leave Kel Tora and race directly toward Mustaffa’s
army, which by now should be marching in our direction.”
Three of the veterans in Lieutenant Hart’s squad
hooted a short cheer before Karn continued.
“Here we are.” He pointed with his sword. “Here are
the Kel Tora’s watchtowers. Beyond the watchtowers is a
tree line that spreads far across the valley. There are
many breaks in the forest, but only one large enough to fit
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an entire army through. To one side of that is a steep
rise. I believe that Mustaffa will funnel his troops
through there, instead of climbing the hill.”
Karn carved an X in the ground.
“This is where we’ll infiltrate Mustaffa’s army.” Karn
looked up from the crude map. “One advantage we have is the
lack of consistency in Mustaffa’s soldiers’ uniform. The
ranks wear patch-worked and salvaged armor. Some wear full
Weiden’s Rise mail and I assume, by now, they may even
carry Joa’Ta’s and Maulen’s royal crest. That being said,
we’ll need to blend in by wearing armor other than our own.
We ride with them the remainder of the day and we attack at
night, right within their ranks.”
Lieutenant Hart stepped from the circle to the dirt
map. “When they camp, we’ll set fires, and cause as much
damage as possible. We have to act as fast as we can. Every
move matters.”
“If we succeed, Kel Tora should have enough time to
move its army here.” Karn pointed to a spot on the dirt
map. “Our goal is to distract the enemy, break their lines,
and kill as many officers as possible.”
Another holler rose from the group.
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“If the enemy is unable to get the majority of their
army through the forest to the plains, Duke Essex may have
a chance.”
“Even with the aid of three neighboring elven tribes
and farmers from two northern villages, we’re still
outnumbered nearly three to one,” Lieutenant Hart added.
“So we need to get this done right.”
“Who better than this group of men to achieve the
impossible?”
The soldiers cheered. Karn knew he had their respect.
While he listened to the soldiers’ celebration, Karn felt a
deep sense of regret. Hart’s unit is made up of good men,
all of whom I could be responsible for leading straight to
their deaths. Why should a fisherman believe he’s capable
of leading soldiers into battle? If they knew who I really
was, they would probably have me hung. Karn remembered what
Tala had said last night: I am what my actions speak. She
best be right.
“Sir, is there any way we can sneak oil into the camp?
Perhaps if we brought enough oil, we might be able to
create a wall of fire,” one of Hart’s soldiers suggested.
“Great idea. Each man will carry two water skins, one
filled with water and the other with oil,” Lieutenant Hart
ordered.
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“Good then.” Karn congratulated them on their hard
work and sent them on their way. He did not want to risk
having anyone of them see the doubt that was in his heart.
“Dismissed!” Lieutenant Hart echoed Karn’s order
before he bowed and headed off into town himself.
***
Karn returned to his room in the Kel Tora castle to
prepare for the formal dinner Duke Essex was hosting. Sweat
moistened his brow and soaked his armpits. The way his
heart raced, he would have thought tonight was the battle,
not a party.
Karn paced the room until a knock rattled his mind and
the door. When he opened it, he found a young guard who
looked as anxious as he felt. The guard delivered an armful
of packages from the ever-gracious duke and promptly left.
The leather bags contained formal attire from Essex’s
personal collection, tailored to perfection for Karn. I
guess this is what I’m going to wear to the celebration. In
one bag was a new set of first-rate leather boots. In all
his life, Karn could not recall ever seeing a finer pair.
This a very special gift. I hope I’m worth it.
Karn dressed quickly. As he laced his boots, Tala
entered, adorned in another of the duke’s presents: a
gorgeous gown, clearly made of the best fabrics. The gown
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was so bright white and pristine that it shimmered even in
the dimly lit room.
The white dress flowed down her legs like the waves
that caress the south shores and the neckline revealed just
enough of her cleavage to shock the stiff upper-class
women. Karn smiled. Tala loves this. I’ve never seen her so
happy. He watched her spin around on one toe. She’s showing
off and she should—she looks amazing.
“So what do you think?” Tala ran to the mirror and
pulled her hair up over her head. “Should I wear my hair
up, like a human noble woman would?”
“Well—” Karn began.
“Or down like an elf?” Tala interrupted, hurrying back
to Karn.
“I think you should wear it up tonight, so you can
show off your new necklace,” Karn stated.
“What new necklace?” she asked.
“The one I bought you this afternoon.”
Tala ran back to Karn and tackled him in an embrace
that was so tight it squeezed the breath out of him. He
worked an arm free and slid his hand under the bed sheets
where he had hidden a pearl necklace. He held it up to her,
so they both could admire its exquisite shine.
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“Since your tradition is to give your mate a necklace,
I thought you might appreciate this.”
“Pearls? Only nobles own pearl necklaces,” Tala said
in a hushed voice, eyes wide, clearly shocked by the gift.
“During training today, I reflected on what you said
last night,” Karn explained. “The more I thought about it,
the more I realized you were right. My past is either dead
or full of memories I cannot trust. I refuse to dwell on it
any longer. Yesterday, I believed I was only capable of
hate, but that’s not true. Since we met, I have felt true
love.”
Karn instructed Tala to sit up so he could put the
necklace on her. With the words hardly out of his mouth,
she jumped up to her feet, spun around, and dropped herself
onto his lap.
“Where do you get all this energy?” he asked.
Once he hooked the necklace around her neck, she
dashed off to the mirror to take a look.
“I am so beautiful!”
Karn laughed harder than he expected in that moment of
high anxiety.
“Do you think Duke Essex and everyone else will accept
me?” Tala turned serious.
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“Of course,” Karn answered immediately. “He sent you
this beautiful gown, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” Tala eyes shimmered.
“Are we good?
“We are great.”
“Good, then. We should finish readying ourselves for
dinner.”
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Chapter 54
Celebration
Duke Essex held his celebrations in a formal ballroom
that was only used for the most special occasions, the last
being his post coronation. When Karn and Tala arrived, two
guards adorned in royal plate armor ushered them in. The
guards announced them to the other guests who stood around,
discussing the war and chatting about old times.
Both Karn’s and Tala’s mouths fell open as they
marveled at the elegance of the ballroom. Dressed with the
rarest silk draperies and artistic tapestries, the formal
hall was decorated in a style that mirrored the throne room
of the castle but was much more elegant. Karn’s eyes moved
around the space until they fell upon the enormous banquet
table directly in the center of the room. The table was
massive, easily seating thirty or more people. As he looked
closer, he determined that the table was made entirely of
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bronze. Outlining the grand piece of furniture, inlaid
among the etched designs, were precious gems that sparkled
with and cast reflections around the room. As Karn walked
toward the center of the ballroom a large fireplace grabbed
his attention. An intensely bright fire burned inside it.
Its warmth drew him in and relaxed him.
“Look, Karn.” Tala pointed at a stained glass skylight
that depicted a white-haired angel hovering, arms
outstretched, over a battlefield cluttered with fallen
soldiers. Beautiful. The art’s message was not lost on him.
If angels are real, and they come to usher heroes from the
battlefields, then they will be called upon soon—very soon.
They threaded their way through the small crowd of
guests. Tala entertained him with her knowledge of the
generals’ names. She pointed out two of the duke’s newest
generals who stood with Duke Essex and Lieutenant Hart,
telling tales of a past battle.
“We all suffered great losses that day,” the older
general remarked.
“Karn, we were just talking about…” Duke Essex’s face
lit up as Karn and Tala approached. “Well, well, look at
you.”
“Duke Essex. Gentlemen.” Karn nodded.
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“Tala, you look ravishing in that dress.” Duke Essex
smiled, his attention solely on her.
“Only an elf could wear a dress like that,” one of the
generals remarked under his breath.
Tala bowed slowly at the waist to the duke, and then
greeted the other generals with a warm smile. It was
obvious to all that she knew the Duke of Kel Tora’s high
standards of beauty and appreciated his remark.
“Do you think wearing my hair up like this makes my
ears look big?” Tala asked coyly, while she twirled a loose
strand of her yellow-green hair.
Duke Essex looked to Karn, and Karn looked back, then
together they laughed at Tala’s comment.
“Such a charming young girl you are, Tala.” Duke Essex
sighed. “Karn, let me introduce you to General Wolfrum and
General Silver. General Silver, you may remember that Karn
here was a former officer in Weiden’s Rise cavalry
division.”
Karn shook General Silver’s hand, knowing full well
that that part of his life was a lie. “I’m sorry, sir, my
memory’s not what it used to be.”
“No harm. There’s much of my past that I wish to
forget,” Karn replied.
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“General Wolfrum here was an officer in Joa’Ta’s army
until Mustaffa invaded,” Duke Essex explained.
“That dishonorable bastard took my king, my family,
and my friends,” Wolfrum huffed. “I plan on winning this
next battle or dying with my hands around Mustaffa’s
throat.”
“The line for Mustaffa’s life is a long one, sir,”
Lieutenant Hart said.
Karn took part in the conversation for only a few
moments before he excused himself. The room was beginning
to get stuffy, so he followed a cool night breeze out to
the balcony and directly to the stone railing that guarded
the ledge. Outside, the gentle wind was the coldest he had
felt that season and carried upon it a hint of dampness.
With his head tilted back, Karn inhaled deeply through his
nose.
“Humans,” a contemptuous, gruff voice came from the
darkness.
Zian emerged from the shadows only a few feet away on
a ledge. His greyish-brown hair pointed back at sharp
angles like hundreds of tiny spikes.
“Smells like rain,” Karn observed as he motioned with
a hand outstretched. “How’s Raven, Zian?”
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“She rests in the mountains with what’s left of my
kin.” Zian gazed angrily at the crowds of people inside the
room.
“I knew our paths would cross again, Zian. I knew you
could not stay away from this fight,” Karn teased a trifle
smugly.
“It’s in my blood, human, just as much as it’s in your
soul,” Zian growled.
Karn shot a suspicious look at the jackalwere. “Youyou know about me? What was done to me?” Karn asked.
“Yes.”
“How?” Karn spread his hands in bewilderment.
Zian’s head bobbed up and down, as he tried to get a
better look at something in the distance. “The same way you
do.”
Karn ran his hand down his face and drew a deep
breath. How long, he wondered, how long has Zian known?
Karn looked over his shoulder as a young guard approached.
Probably only five summers younger than Karn, the guard
walked with total confidence to Karn’s side where he took a
long look into the field below the balcony and glanced
around, missing the jackalwere in the deep shadow.
Zian knows how to avoid detection.
“Everything satisfactory out here, sir?”
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“Of course, return to your rounds,” Karn responded.
The young guard nodded and promptly walked off.
“You play your part well, boy.” Zian’s voice cut the
silence like a knife.
“Did you come here for the party or do you have a plan
to defeat Mustaffa?” Karn asked.
Zian did not respond; all Karn could hear was the
jackalwere’s breathing as it grew deeper and heavier.
“Zian?”
At last the jackalwere replied, “My plan is to strike
at the most chaotic moment. When you need me, human, I’ll
be there.”
The wind picked up, whipping leaves across the
balcony’s cobblestones. A drop of rain struck Karn’s
shoulder, then another tapped his hand.
“Good plan.”
“You smell different.”
Karn turned to the shadows that Zian hid in and
chuckled. “What kind of comment is that, Zian?”
“Something has changed your scent,” Zian growled.
“Maybe I smell like elf?” Karn returned sarcastically,
and laughed.
Zian grumbled something under his breath before he
jumped to the ground below. Karn’s eyes followed him as he
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bolted toward the tree line and vanished into the darkness.
A clatter of heels made Karn turn in time to see Tala
stroll out of the ballroom and onto the balcony. He agreed
with Duke Essex: she did look extraordinarily lovely
tonight. She had a glow that could not be extinguished. As
she drew closer to him, her smile turned to a rather
seductive grin.
“Do you like what you see, good sir?” Tala said,
mimicking an upper-class woman’s tone.
“Very much.”
“I hope you do not mind, good sir, but I was planning
on changing my attire before I attend our private party
later tonight.”
“We wouldn’t want to ruin your nice new dress.” Karn
was excited by the possibilities. “Come, dear lady—let us
dance.”
Serene harp and cello music filled the ballroom. “I
seem to remember having been a fairly good dancer,” he said
lightly, leading her out onto the floor.
One song ended and another began, over and over. Karn
lost himself in the moment.
“This music… this night…” Tala looked deep into his
eyes. “It’s like there’s nothing to be concerned with in
the land. It feels like freedom.”
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“I feel it too.”
Another three songs passed before Duke Essex cut in to
dance with Tala. Karn nodded and took the duke’s former
dance partner, General Silver’s daughter, for a dance. She
was sixteen summers old at most, but oddly enough she had
not looked as young while she was in the duke’s arms.
Although quite pretty, she was painfully shy. Every
attempt Karn made to look his young dance partner in the
eye failed. She simply would not engage him. Her blue eyes
darted around the room, and she seemed like a lost puppy.
This dance will last forever, he thought and as soon as it
was over, Karn politely excused himself and walked over to
the duke’s table.
Karn sat down, his breathing labored, and snatched up
a mug of ale as he settled back in the seat, but was
interrupted by General Silver before he could drink.
The general placed his hand on Karn’s shoulder and
spoke softly. “Although my daughter hates these formal
engagements, I’ve never seen her smile as much as she is
now.”
“Sir?” Karn sat up straighter.
“It appears she has a crush on you, my new friend.”
General Silver pointed at his daughter, who was staring at
Karn but quickly looked away when they looked toward her.
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“I, w-well…” Karn began nervously. “Tala and I…”
The general smiled. “If you ever change your mind
about the elf, sweet little thing though she may be, I
would be honored to give you my daughter’s hand in
marriage. It’s good to stick with your own kind, you know.”
“Generous, but, uh…” Karn searched for words, wishing
Tala was there to save him.
“Just keep it in mind, son.” General Silver removed
his hand from Karn’s shoulder, patted him on the back, and
walked off.
Karn downed his mug of ale quickly and exhaled a long
breath. The night had taken a sudden turn, and he felt as
if it slowed down right before his eyes. A fire built
inside him, as if the battle he was about to face called
his name. His need for conflict grew. He could feel his
heart speed up, his breathing increase. Karn could see the
veins in his wrist and arm pulse. I need to fight. Sweat
beaded at his brow as he searched for a reason why he felt
like smashing something.
Karn closed his eyes and thought about the ocean. He
took slow breaths and tried to control his anger. Whatever
this was, it was not him—it has to be the spell cast on me.
Before he could catch his breath, Tala dropped down into
the seat beside him. She picked up a glass of water, sipped
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from it, then poured a little on her hand to wipe over her
brow. While she fanned her neck and chest with a cloth
napkin, she turned to Karn.
“That girl really likes you.”
Karn shot her a look of aggravation, and then replied,
“Not you too.”
“Duke Essex is a good dancer. I’m actually sweating,
see?” Tala pointed down to her cleavage, where the sweat
sparkled like tiny diamonds.
The sight distracted him. “How come when you sweat it
sparkles?”
“Elven secret,” she replied, her index finger pressed
to her lip.
Karn tried not to laugh but could not help himself.
Tala had a way of lightening tense moments like no one
else.
A break in the music caught his attention. Duke Essex
raised his voice over the crowd and motioned for everyone
to be seated as he approached his seat at the head of the
long table and raised a glass of wine. After a moment of
silence, he spoke two words that whipped the nobles and
soldiers into a frenzy: “To Kel Tora!”
“Kel Tora!” the crowd thundered.
When the crowd’s cheers died down, he spoke again.
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“To victory!”
Karn could not help but jump to his feet and stand
tall. “To victory!” he shouted along with the rest. Even
Tala stood to echo the cry. The time of battle was finally
there. Karn could feel it, and he was sure every officer
and noblemen in the ballroom felt it too.
“Kel Tora will not fall in the coming days! So long as
I live, this great castle will remain standing,” General
Silver boasted.
“That goes for me too!” Lieutenant Hart added.
“Karn, you may be new to the court of Kel Tora, but
you are just as vital to our coming triumph. What say you?”
“I have no doubt that Kel Tora will defeat Mustaffa,”
Karn announced, pausing to allow the cheers to die down.
“Her men are strong. I have personally witnessed their
resolve in battle.”
The crowd bellowed its resolve louder.
“One month from tonight, I will stand in Kel Tora with
my new bride, Tala, and our lands will once again be safe!”
“Bravo!” Lieutenant Hart shouted.
Karn nodded to Tala, who was at work waving off tears.
“When this war is over, we will reshape the continent
in Kel Tora’s image!” Duke Essex cheered. “Tonight we
celebrate. Tomorrow we fight!”
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“Fight!”
“Fight!”
“Fight!”
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Chapter 55
Rejections
Opal awoke late in the afternoon. She had not meant to
sleep the entire day, but using her magic to fly about
Illyia the day before had left her exhausted. As she
dressed, she returned to a thought that had bothered her
throughout the night. Why has my magical energies waxed and
waned so much these past few days? Opal feared it was tied
to the loss of her baby.
You’re better than this, better than some common
student scared of their own powers. But Opal was scared.
The unknowing manifestation of a transportation spell was a
dangerous and worrisome thing. She had brought Karn, and a
group of soldiers, to her without meaning to. She could
have easily done the same with bandits or the enemy. The
thought chilled her blood.
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To make matter worse, when she returned to Kel Tora
last night, her portal spell had deposited her in the
center of town instead of inside the room in the castle she
had aimed for. She had startled a pair of drunkards so
badly one pissed himself. With a hard swallow, she
considered that she could’ve transported herself into a
number of spots that would have been more than
embarrassing; they would have been fatal.
Once composed, Opal exited her room at the inn and
walked down the stairs to the ground floor to reimburse the
owner for the night. Hunger twisted her stomach in knots.
When, she wondered, was the last time I sat for a meal?
“Innkeeper, can you add in the cost of a meal to what
I owe you for the room? I’m starving.”
“Sure thing, my lovely,” the old stout innkeeper
agreed, then shuffled off toward the kitchen.
Opal took a quick look around the inn. With the
exception of herself, the innkeeper, and two Kel Tora
guards that were posted there, the place was deserted.
Intrigued, Opal bent over the bar and yelled into the
adjoining kitchen. “Where is everyone?”
“Big celebration at the castle. Even us non-soldier
types were invited to rally outside on the east grounds,”
the innkeeper responded.
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Sadness filled Opal’s chest. Had things gone as she
planned, she would have been at the pinnacle of that
festivity, hand-in-hand with Karn. Instead, events had her
in hiding, an outcast again. “I should be there,” Opal
muttered as she clenched her fist.
“The rally, dear?” The innkeeper had come back with a
bowl of hot stew. “There’ll be plenty of time after your
meal, young lady.”
“No, I should be at the celebration inside,” Opal
corrected him.
“Oh, really?” His voice rose with interest.
“This was my chance to finally get the respect and
notice I deserved. I was to become famous,” Opal said.
“Famous, you say?” The innkeeper placed a saltcellar
beside the bowl.
Opal snatched it up, shaking it angrily into the stew.
“Yes.”
He looked her in the eye. “So tell me, what happened?
Why are you here instead of there?”
Opal shoveled two huge, overfull spoonfuls of stew
into her mouth. The meal was satisfying; it felt as if she
had not eaten in a week. The food warmed her body, and it
brought a hint of a smile to her face. “This is really
good,” she exclaimed with sincerity.
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“My stew is well-known throughout the kingdom of Kel
Tora,” the innkeeper boasted.
Opal nodded. “Sometimes it’s the little things,” she
said to the innkeeper before she placed another big
spoonful of food into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed.
“In the past, I failed to recognize the little things. My
sights were so fixed on the grand scale, the outcome of
months of work, that I failed to recognize the little parts
that make up the whole.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the innkeeper said.
“No, it’s I who should be sorry. It was my fault. I
was so blinded by my desires that I neglected to see that I
was being used. Even now, even now, I try to justify it,”
Opal said, and then laughed ruefully.
The old innkeeper scratched his dry face. “Justify
what?”
Opal paused a moment as she considered the words she
was about to speak. There’s no reason not to tell this man.
Unburdening herself might alleviate some of the pain she
felt. “Justify the great evil I am responsible for.”
Opal scooped a large piece of meat from the stew, as
the innkeeper shot a look over her shoulder to the two Kel
Tora guards. She knew the guards had heard every word, but
she had said nothing incriminating. She was sure that as
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city guards, they had heard their share of boasts before;
of course this was different.
Freed of a small measure of shame, Opal continued, “I
barely remember the day when I could count how many people
I had killed on one hand. Now both my hands and feet are
not enough. I have truly lost count.”
“What are you saying?” the innkeeper blurted.
“I wager that when you first saw me, you painted me as
just another simple, harmless woman sitting at your bar.”
“Simple, no. A woman as comely as you should not be
described as simple.”
“Another pretty face in the crowd,” Opal guessed. “My
beauty has always been my advantage and my curse.”
“You must excuse my curiosity, but you said you’ve
killed many people.” The innkeeper began to stammer. “H-how
could you have k-killed…”
Opal raised her eyes from her meal. With measured
pace, she positioned her spoon to the right of her bowl.
She sat up, propped her right elbow on the bar and pointed
her index and middle fingers toward the wooden ceiling.
“This is how,” Opal sighed as her hand erupted in a
yellow glow that resembled a bright burning torch. “You
see, I’m a mage. A wicked one.”
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Before Opal could lower her arm, one of the guards
grabbed her shoulder. The man’s hand surprised her and
triggered the spell she was casting. The yellow glow burst
forth from her hand and shot straight through the ceiling
and then the roof of the inn.
“By the great gods!” the innkeeper screeched over the
crack of wood.
First, debris from the damaged ceiling showered down
upon the bar and floor; then the ceiling cracked, and a
much larger hole opened. The roof was caving in, and its
weight was too much for the second floor to handle.
“Cease your attack or we’ll be forced to stop you!”
the guard who grabbed Opal’s shoulder yelled over the crash
of the falling debris.
“It was an accident!”
The inn itself shrieked as its support beams cracked.
Opal wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she was sure it
wouldn’t be long before the entire place collapsed.
Regardless of her recent concerns about transporting
herself, Opal closed her eyes and blinked instantly out of
the inn, to the room inside the castle she had been staying
in. A gust of displaced air made her stumble, and before
she could be sure she was where she wanted to be, she heard
someone cough.
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“Who’s there?” Opal cried out, disoriented.
“Do you always draw attention to yourself like that?”
a voice asked dryly.
“Show yourself.”
“Oh, I imagine you had a proper reason to destroy that
inn,” the voice said, getting more familiar with each word.
Opal’s eyes focused on the mage she called Limper,
seated comfortably upon her bed in Kel Tora’s guest room.
He wore a fancy new white robe with red sigils, like the
ones she had seen at the tower. Yet that was not the only
new thing. The old mage looked slightly younger—as if ten
summers had been shed off his body like dead skin. As Opal
stepped closer, she could feel a surge of magical energy
around him.
“Malek didn’t tell me you were back in the fold,” Opal
confessed. “He didn’t tell me you were even alive.”
“Malek? No, I’m afraid you are confused. I didn’t
rejoin the dark mages… not as you have.”
“Do not assume you know me!” Opal’s raged, her eyes
flashing blue and green. “I just want to get Karn back!”
“That’s exactly why I came to speak with you.”
“What can you promise me that Malek has not already?”
Opal placed her hands firmly on her hips.
“His soul.”
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His words struck her like a punch in the gut and took
as long to recover from. “Do you threaten me or offer me a
solution?”
“The battle is nearly here. There is no assurance your
dear Karn will survive it, but there is a way to protect
his soul.”
Opal stepped forward. “Tell me—how?”
“No. First, you must promise me that from this day
forward you will travel the path of a benevolent mage.”
Opal shook her head. “I fear I’m too corrupt for
that.”
The old mage stood and straightened his robes. Gripped
tightly in his left hand, by its frayed drawstring, was a
small leather pouch. It swayed back and forth as he
approached her. “There’s still salvation for you. The days
of pure and dark mages will die with my generation. You
will be the first of a new kind, one evenly balanced
between good and evil.”
Opal did not care about his words; only his solution
mattered to her. “Tell me what to do.”
“Take this.” The mage pulled an old scroll wrapped in
red and white ribbon from the pouch. “It’s a gift. I
brought it from Spire Anguish.”
Opal took the gift without question.
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“Go ahead, examine it.” He smiled.
Opal tore off the ribbon and unraveled the scroll as
fast as she could. Once opened, the parchment emitted a
tiny blue flash, but she was too engrossed in its contents
to question it. As she read the scroll’s words, she
realized just how important they were.
“A body can be healed, but a soul cannot be saved once
death occurs. Opal, you must understand that there’s a
strong possibility that the Rook will die in combat,” he
explained.
“I will not allow it.”
“Have you not thought of the variables? This is war.
The Rook was designed to fight his way directly to Naraboo
at any cost. How many soldiers do you think it will take to
overcome him?”
“I just assumed—” Opal’s shoulders slumped as the old
mage interrupted her.
“You thought they would meet one-on-one in some
legendary sword fight?”
Opal sighed. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because only you have the cache of power needed to
fight in this final battle. Only you can aid him.
Furthermore, if the warlord Naraboo is defeated, you will
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have, in effect, saved us all. Why not offer you this gift
as a reward?”
His words made sense; they were exactly what she
needed to hear.
“I’ll go to the battle, and I’ll fight.”
“Then there’s hope yet,” Limper whispered.
“When the fight’s over, if need be, I’ll use this
spell to save him,” Opal declared. “I’m ready.”
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Chapter 56
Incursion
Beside Karn, on the mount of one of Mustaffa’s former
officer’s, was Tala. She had tried her hardest to disguise
herself as a young man. She wore a suit of scale armor,
which helped to cover up all hints of her female form. She
donned a forged steel helmet that enclosed most of her
face, and kept her yellow-green hair tucked safely away.
The rocking motion of the horse rattled her loosely
fitting armor and drew the occasional glance in her
direction from the surrounding men. Although she kept her
head down, every once in a while when Karn would gaze at
her, he would catch a glimpse of her lips, a smile so
bright that even in this precarious moment, he could not
help but return it.
Everything has gone as planned, he thought and then
reminded himself to breathe. But uncertainty nagged him
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deeply. Even an hour ago, when a whistle and a hand gesture
dispersed his team of thirty-five soldiers through the
forest’s edge, he wondered if this plan was the best for
the situation.
With another glance at Tala, Karn felt his stomach
knot. She lied to me, he thought. I know she did. Elven
tradition? I doubt one exists where it’s the lifemate’s
responsibility to go to battle with their man. I should not
have let her come.
Try as he might to ignore his fears of imminent doom,
he felt that these were his last days, and he did not want
to spend them alone.
Karn gripped and re-gripped his horse’s reigns. This
is not the time to question yourself. Everything has gone
as planned. Mustaffa led his army straight into the gap
between the dense forest and steep hillside. And just as
you assumed, his soldiers broke ranks to enter the forest
to relieve themselves.
Karn looked forward again. He did not want to be
caught staring at Tala by the enemy soldiers that
surrounded them. It would be a dead giveaway.
It all seems too easy. Within the span of an hour, my
entire squad has infiltrated Mustaffa’s army. Karn closed
his eyes and drew a deep breath. Too easy.
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They rode quietly through the forest until sunset.
Karn kept a surreptitious watch on the enemy around them,
looking for any sign that their ruse had failed. He knew he
may not have been a soldier before he was enchanted, but he
was observant.
As Karn scanned the crowd of soldiers, he came to
several interesting conclusions. One, the enemy footmen
were divided. Two-thirds marched behind him, and one-third
marched in front. Karn stared forward into their massive
numbers, one man blurring into the next with each step.
After a time, he realized that the footmen marched in an
eerie dead silence. Either Mustaffa has an extremely
disciplined army or one that fears him immensely.
I wish I knew where the man himself rode. I’d give
anything—
“Perhaps we could send one of our troops to scout
ahead for… the target,” Lieutenant Hart whispered as he
rode up beside Karn, as if reading his thoughts.
“Nothing would make me happier, but it’s too risky,”
Karn said out of the side of his mouth. “I’ve been studying
Mustaffa’s troop movements. Except for small repositioning
and breaks to relieve themselves, very few of the cavalry
even shift position. As a matter of fact, I think it’s only
their generals who ride from front to back and so on.”
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“Such formality for an informal army,” Lieutenant Hart
replied.
“Another thing. Our reports of other races, giants and
lizard men, I’ve seen no likes.”
“Agreed.”
“I know firsthand there’s at least one full squad of
dark elves in Mustaffa’s employ.”
When Karn said this to Lieutenant Hart, Tala spoke up.
“I don’t think there are any dark elves here, not now.”
“Eh?”
“I’m certain I would sense them,” Tala explained.
“Anything else you care to share with us?” Karn asked
impatiently.
“A small troop of lizard men are following us, but
they are far downwind.” Tala wrinkled her nose.
One of the elves in Karn’s squad signaled Lieutenant
Hart. Karn had already spotted what the elf was attempting
to warn them about; a rider approached from the front of
the army.
“Light the torches! Quicken your pace! March faster!
We camp soon!” Mustaffa’s general barked out commands as he
passed.
“It’s time.”
Lieutenant Hart nodded.
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“Tell everyone to follow orders when we set up camp,
then regroup afterward,” Karn instructed.
***
When the entire army stopped its march, the commanding
officers instructed the divisions to their chores. Although
it had been a long, nervous ride, Kel Tora’s squad blended
perfectly into Mustaffa’s ranks. They were good soldiers,
and they followed Mustaffa’s officer’s orders just as well
if not better than most of the enemy leader’s own troops.
Karn, along with more than half of Kel Tora’s crew,
received orders to tend to the horses, whereas Lieutenant
Hart and two of the elves that accompanied them were told
to gather firewood from the tree line.
While Karn secured the horses for the night, he tried
his best to keep an eye on his squad. Unfortunately, his
own plan made it nearly impossible to do so, because Kel
Tora’s men blended so well into the enemy ranks. Each time
he looked away, he lost track of one of them.
He sighed and tried to calm himself. Everything has
gone as planned. No need to worry, he thought as he stared
down at the knot he tied. Everyone’s doing their best, even
Tala. I just wish I knew where she was…
Karn finished his duties, and although it might have
seemed like an eternity, it really did not take him very
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long. As he scanned the crowd, he watched a group of five
soldiers rush to action. Their sudden motion spiked his
nerves, but it was not an attack; the men only went to the
aid of others who were struggling to hoist the canvas of a
commanding officer’s tent.
Karn stared so long that his eyes began to blur. There
were thousands of soldiers, and they all moved about with
purpose. It made him feel hazy, almost mesmerized by the
motion. He was so caught up in it all, he nearly missed a
signal from one of his men.
Lieutenant Hart had finally returned to the
campground, his arms full of firewood. Karn saw Hart tap
his forearm with his fist—the signal that meant he was with
other soldiers from the squad.
Karn answered with a nod, and then rubbed his eyes. He
wanted a head count. As Lieutenant Hart piled up the wood,
he took a moment to hold up three sticks. Good, Karn
thought, three more men accounted for.
One by one, members of the raiding party returned to
the spot designated by Lieutenant Hart. As one of the elves
in the raiding party approached, he signaled Karn with a
melodic whistle—Tala’s whereabouts were known. Relieved,
Karn watched her and another elf approach with water. Thank
the gods she’s safe.
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“I followed her,” the elf reported quietly. “I knew
you would want her watched.”
“You have my thanks.”
“That’s not all. While at the tree line, I decided to
climb up and take a look. It appears that only one-third of
Mustaffa’s army has passed through the tightest part of the
valley between the forest and hillside. We are almost
outside.”
Karn slouched some, as a group of four enemy
cavalrymen walked by. “Our plan is working well,” he said
when they had passed. “Our fires may be able to block off
part of the army. We have to coordinate our escape
perfectly though or we’ll be separated from Kel Tora’s
forces.”
The enemy troops had begun to queue up at the mess
tents for their supper, so it was easier for Karn and the
others to talk freely. After he dismissed the elf, Karn
walked to the campfire where Lieutenant Hart and Tala
stood.
“Remind me, why did I allow you to come along?” Karn
whispered to Tala from behind.
“Because you cannot live another moment separated from
me?”
He smirked. “True.”
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Lieutenant Hart circled the fire, while motioning to
Karn and the rest of the squad to be seated. Ten of Kel
Tora’s soldiers went to the mess tent to get food for the
rest of the party, which sat patiently.
“I have to admit, sir, although this is moving
smoothly, I’m still scared to death,” one of Kel Tora’s men
said to Lieutenant Hart.
“As am I,” Hart replied. “Just remember, as long as we
follow our plan, we should all be fine.”
“Food’s not bad,” the oldest man in the squad joked as
he returned to the group, his mouth full.
Karn looked around the fire for the elf that had
accompanied Tala earlier, but he was gone. “We’re missing
an elven soldier,” Karn whispered to Lieutenant Hart.
“Probably pissing,” Lieutenant Hart guessed.
“No, he’s signaling someone again,” Tala stated,
obviously unaware she was saying something shocking. “From
that tree,” she added with a point.
One of the other elves from the group slapped down
Tala’s hand, then glared at her.
“Signaling?” Lieutenant Hart hissed.
“Who could he be signaling?” Karn asked as he leaned
in toward Tala.
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“Quiet, traitor,” said the elf who had slapped her
hand.
“Quiet yourself,” she snapped. To Karn, she added,
“It’s an old elven trick. You have nothing to fear; only
other elves would notice it.”
Lieutenant Hart raised his sword slowly and aimed it
at the elf. “I will tolerate no lies,” he said calmly but
coldly. “Speak up.”
“Atop that hill, there’s a small group of my people,”
the elf revealed, with a angry glare at Tala.
“Why risk what we are working for to signal your
people? Why is this so important?” Karn asked, not sure
what to expect. “Who are they?”
The elf averted his eyes. “Hunters.”
“Hunters? Hunting what?” Lieutenant Hart interjected.
Tala shrugged. “I guess we’re not the only uninvited
guests in this valley.”
The elf who had spoken only moments before looked
around the group a moment before he fixed his eyes on Karn.
His deep stare added to Tala’s words only took Karn a
moment to decipher. Mages.
“Mage hunters. You mean the mages are here too, don’t
you?”
“The outcome of this battle—”
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“Is a big concern of theirs,” Karn finished. “Damn
them.”
“Lieutenant Hart, if the legendary mages have come
down from the mountain, what side of the battle have they
chosen?” asked a young soldier.
“I’m not sure.” Hart turned to Karn. “What do you
think, General?”
The men around the fire grew silent as they looked at
Karn. They want an answer. What answer do I give them? The
truth, a lie, or one of the hundreds of possibilities in
between. It’s now or never…
“Their own.” Karn felt it was the best answer at the
moment.
Over the course of fifteen minutes, Karn quickly
explained what he knew of the High Council of Mages. He
told the squad the abridged story and held back the fact
that he had been their pawn. To be safe, he avoided
mentioning Opal at all.
As Karn finished his tale, one of Mustaffa’s officers
approached the group and heartily slapped Tala on the
shoulder. “You men fight well!” he drunkenly bellowed and
continued on to the next group.
Tala grumbled. Karn could not tell what she was
saying; it sounded like another language.
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“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m tired, dressed in silly human armor, manhandled
by some cretin, and it might rain… What do you think?” she
replied.
“Did you say rain?”
“Yes,” she sighed.
Karn turned to Lieutenant Hart, who was explaining
strategy to two of the younger men, but a sudden cry rang
out from the front of the army. A calm silence followed
until a second, closer cry was heard, with yet another even
closer after. Then, like a wave crashing upon the shore,
the sound of armored men on the move overwhelmed Karn’s
ears.
“What the hell’s happening?” one of Mustaffa’s
soldiers screamed from a short distance.
An officer rode up from the front, his white horse
kicking dirt in every direction. His shout sounded like the
howl of a distressed animal and alerted every soldier in
the area of the news.
“Kel Tora’s army has been spotted on rapid advance
toward our position! They’ll be upon us soon. Ready
yourselves to march! Double pace!”
Karn froze; things were moving much too quickly now.
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“This is not good,” Lieutenant Hart grumbled. “Duke
Essex has been spotted already. We haven’t started our
attack yet.”
The cool breeze made Karn shudder. His eyes dropped to
his feet; for a second, he thought they had sunk into the
ground, that ivy-thick, thorny, brown veins had curled up
his legs. He lifted his foot and shook it. His muscles
ached and an odd sting in his stomach grew stronger. The
pain was joined by another, and another, and soon Karn felt
as if he was being pierced by a dozen blades. I died… I
remember dying…
“General?”
Karn heard him but did not reply. It was all he could
do just to look up.
“General Karn?”
“We cannot let the enemy army funnel through the pass—
we must act now,” Karn said. He paused for only a moment
before he shouted, “Go!”
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Chapter 57
Baited
Without realizing it, Tala ran farther forward than
any of the others in the squad, much farther then she
should have. Soon, she found herself at the back corner of
an officer’s tent. She poured out half the oil in her
flask, and then reached into a pouch she carried at her hip
for her flint and tinder. Before she could light the fire,
there were heavy footsteps behind her.
As she turned, she felt a breeze brush against her
face. Before she even saw it, she felt the large knuckles
of a massive hand crack against her cheek. The force
knocked her helmet off and spun her body around twice. She
landed on her back, her legs spread toward her attacker.
Dazed, through bleary, tear-filled eyes, she could see the
silhouette of a giant man.
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“Is that the best you can do, you big idiot?” she
managed to say before spitting blood.
Tala had never seen a giant before and was shocked.
His beard hung halfway down his chest, crudely knotted on
the end with a piece of frayed twine. He stood nearly twice
the size of a normal man. He must weigh as much as three
horses, Tala thought when she saw how deeply his feet had
sunk into the wet, soft ground. As the giant cracked the
knuckles of his huge right hand, Tala’s eyes centered on
his black-toothed grin.
“Let me show you my best, you miserable—”
The giant never finished his words. Tala watched as
the gleaming point of a sword emerged from his gut. The tip
of the blade withdrew suddenly, and Tala’s gaze jumped up
to the giant’s bewildered face. It seemed he was just as
shocked as she was. The pain hasn’t even registered on his
face.
Before the giant could face his attacker, Tala caught
a glimpse of another flash of light, and finally saw the
man whose sword produced it.
“Karn…” she wanted to cry when she saw him.
Karn jumped up from behind the giant and, with a one
mighty swing of his sword, lopped off the big man’s head.
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“Are you hurt?” Karn inquired as he sidestepped the
giant’s falling body.
He offered her his hand, glancing around for any
onlookers. When she moved her hand from her mouth, she
revealed the seriousness of the wound. I’m hurt worse than
I feel—she could see it in his eyes. Her bottom lip was
split open, swollen and bloodied. It felt like she had been
kicked by a horse.
“You cut that giant’s head off,” Tala mumbled through
the pain. “He was going to—”
“I did what I had to.” Karn’s voice was harsh, yet his
actions were kind. “I never should’ve brought you.” He
leaned in to examine Tala’s lip.
“It’s amazing what a woman can convince a man to do
for her after a night filled with passionate lovemaking.”
Tala tried to smile past her injury.
Karn didn’t look amused. “We need to do what we came
here for, and then get the hell out of here.”
He lit the fire where Tala had spilled out her oil,
picked up the helmet she had worn earlier, and showed it to
her. It was cracked down the side. How did I survive that?
It looks like a mace struck me.
Karn shook his head in disbelief. “I’m shocked that
the giant didn’t knock your head clean off your body.
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You’re a lucky girl,” he told, tucking her hair into the
ruined helmet.
“We best go.”
“Yes, we best.”
Tala nodded and then sprinted off. He’s ready. I can
see it in his eyes now—in his soul.
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Chapter 58
Braves
As Karn followed Tala, he spotted fires in every
direction. It’s working. Some of Mustaffa’s troops dashed
into the forest to fetch water from a nearby stream while
others fought the fires with what little liquid they had in
their water skins. Others tried to evacuate additional
soldiers and supplies before the fires spread. The
orchestrated confusion quickly turned into complete chaos.
Everything seemed so perfect, until Karn spotted Lieutenant
Hart and the others fleeing toward him.
“Three of my soldiers were caught! We’ve been
exposed!” Lieutenant Hart shouted.
“To the forest!” Karn ordered.
“We cannot! It’s blocked! We have no choice but to
advance through their ranks,” Lieutenant Hart added.
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“We’ll never make it!” one of the squad’s younger
soldiers yelled, his face drawn in fear.
“We must try! Go!” Karn barked. “Go!”
A small cadre of enemy soldiers emerged from the
chaos. A tall, heavily armored officer, who appeared to be
their leader, pointed directly to Lieutenant Hart’s
position with his sword.
“They’re coming!” Hart cried out.
“Run!”
“Stop those men!” the officer yelled.
“What is your plan?” Lieutenant Hart asked as ran up
to Karn.
“We fight our way to the tree line!” Karn drew his
sword with a roar. “You three elves protect Tala. Get her
clear of all this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Twenty or more enemy soldiers answered the officer’s
call and quickly advanced on Karn’s squad. Joa’Ta’s blue
falcon and Weiden’s Rise’s green-and-white star coat of
arms marked many of the soldiers that rushed in to engage
them. Even in this moment, Karn knew it would be hard for
the men of Kel Tora to ignore the symbols that represented
the vast number of allies and friends in this war.
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Karn spied his men. They reacted differently, but all
fought with increased resolve. They know what they must do
now. I know what I must do now.
Karn tensed into a defensive crouch as the mounted
officer approached at full speed. With sword upraised, he
held his strike until the officer circled close enough.
Karn’s sword flashed out and cut clean through the
rider’s leg, severing it and opening the horse’s rib cage
as well. The horse bucked, then crashed into three enemy
foot soldiers who advanced.
Karn watched Lieutenant Hart and five of his soldiers
push toward the tree line as the remainder of the
retreating raiders protected their flanks and rear. The
sounds of troop movement and close combat were loud, but
through them Karn heard distant cries of terror and
realized what was about to happen.
Karn buried his sword in the chest of an inexperienced
enemy soldier, then hooked the back of the man’s head in
his hand, forcing it hard to the ground. He glanced toward
the forest. There… there they are. Like fireflies, more
than a dozen pairs of red eyes lit up at the forest’s
shadowy edge.
“Stand fast, men! We have company!” Karn shouted.
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Following Karn’s order, a mob of jackalweres emerged
from the forest. The beast-men dashed past Karn’s position
on all fours, and when they collided with Mustaffa’s men,
the jackalwere cut through them as if they were unarmed and
inexperienced. They bite and claw with such terrible
savagery, Karn thought watching. I almost feel bad for the
enemy. Almost.
The members of Kel Tora’s raiding party raised their
shields in defense and held their ground. Some watched as
Mustaffa’s troops were torn and ripped by the jackalweres’
strong claws and knife-sharp teeth, while others looked
away from the brutal sight.
Karn stood with sword and shield at his sides. He
grinned as he watched the elves set to protect Tala reach
the forest, where he knew she would be safe.
“By the blessed gods, General Karn, what are these
things?” yelled a young member of the squad. “I’ve never
seen such monsters!”
“They’re jackalweres,” Karn answered. “And they may
look monstrous, but they’re our allies.”
Karn spotted Zian as he fought the last two soldiers
that remained nearby. The wolf-man had torn the arm off of
one man and was wildly clubbing the other with it. Once
both soldiers were dead, Zian turned his attention to Karn.
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The burly jackalwere tossed the limb aside and
approached the raiding party in lumbering manner. With each
step, his weight shifted and his head bobbed up and down.
When he was close enough, he raised his furry snout and
placed it only inches from Karn’s face.
“It’s good to see you, Zian,” Karn said calmly, his
hand outstretched. “I see you have… disarmed the enemy…”
Zian inhaled deeply, taking in Karn’s scent, and then
reached past Karn’s hand to his chest, where he thumped on
it three times with his own open hand, making a woofing
noise. It took Karn a moment to realize the jackalwere was
laughing at his “disarmed” comment.
“Sir?” one of Lieutenant Hart’s soldiers interjected.
“Everything,” said Karn with a grin, “is good and
fine.”
Zian’s head whipped to the right, his nose pointed
toward the narrowest part of the gully between the forest
and the hillside. Karn reached out to Zian’s plate armorclad shoulder and grasped it tightly for a moment.
“I’ll wager Mustaffa is just on the other side,” Karn
offered.
“I know he is.” Zian tilted his head back and sniffed
rapidly. “Get your men to safety. Mustaffa’s mine!”
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Zian hunkered down until both hands touched the
ground; then, in the blink of an eye, he bolted off in
Mustaffa’s direction. Karn watched as many of the other
jackalweres likewise dropped to all fours and joined Zian’s
charge. Soon they had all vanished into the gully.
Karn’s eyebrows lifted as an idea popped into his
head. “We have to act now!” he shouted to his men. “Here is
your choice. Escape to the safety of the forest and rejoin
Kel Tora’s army as it attacks—”
“Or what, sir?” Lieutenant Hart interrupted.
“Or follow the wake of destruction those jackalweres
are going to cause, straight to the heart of the enemy—
Mustaffa himself!”
“That’s suicide. Even if we do make it to Mustaffa and
kill him, how will we escape?”
“Hart, I have faith in Kel Tora. Her army will save
us,” Karn answered. “Make your decision now. Time’s running
out.”
The sights and sounds of the last battle the warlord’s
soul had experienced were clear in Karn’s mind now. He
remembered it all; he understood everything. The warlord
saw his home destroyed. He gave his all to the very end.
Had he owned another drop of blood in his veins, he would
have shed it in combat, shoulder to shoulder with his
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brothers. Had he had a second life to give, he would have
traded it for the lives of the people he loved. Karn felt
his heart flutter when he took a deep breath. He does have
a second life to give: mine.
Without another word, he sprinted off after Zian and
his kin. But from behind him, out of the silence, he heard
Hart shout. “For Kel Tora!”
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Chapter 59
War
Mustaffa’s army, even the small part that had pushed
through the narrow pass, was massive; however, Karn’s firesetting tactic and the attack of the beast-men had
disorganized it. Hundreds of enemy soldiers met Karn’s
eyes. They swarm like a sea of worker ants around crumbs on
the ground.
The soldiers moved in every direction—some rushed to
rejoin their units in preparation for the battle against
Kel Tora’s approaching army, others ran frantically about
in attempt to put out the fires. Several more simply stood
about, panicked and confused in the onset of battle.
Zian’s jackalweres cut a swath through the befuddled
ranks of Mustaffa’s men with little effort. Broken bodies,
severed limbs, and a fine mist of blood in the night air
was left in their wake.
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Karn ran as fast as his tired body would allow, but it
felt impossible to catch up with Zian and his kin, even
when they slowed down to engage the enemy. Those men they
did not kill, they left mortally wounded and stunned.
Blood poured down the body of a young pikeman’s body.
He was no more than a boy. He’s shocked-unaware of the
fatal injury he’s just sustained from the claws of that one
jackalwere. Karn approached him and, with a quick swing of
his sword, cleaved the young pikeman’s head from his body.
He kept moving, but out of the corner of his eye, he
watched as the boy’s body convulsed before it fell over.
For the first time since he started his dash through
the gully, Karn stopped and spun around. He feared he would
see the tunnel Zian had ripped through the enemy soldiers
collapsing behind him into a mass of angry footmen.
Instead, he saw Lieutenant Hart and what was left of Kel
Tora’s squad. At the center of their charge, leading the
way, was Tala.
Karn waited for her to catch up, and to his further
dismay, she had removed her armor and was unarmed. She
stood out like a thin ray of sunshine that had pierced a
sky full of thick storm clouds and she looked just as
fragile.
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One young, beautiful woman surrounded by hate and
death. Karn wished she would have stayed out of danger, but
he understood now. That simply was not in her nature. As
she stepped up to Karn, she slid a foot under a fallen
soldier’s pike and flipped it into her hand in one smooth
motion.
“What are you standing around for? We have to keep
moving. Your time is now, hero,” Tala urged.
Karn did not answer. He simply nodded, turned, and
started to run again. Lieutenant Hart and the remainder of
the squad had almost caught up. Their disguises were good,
so good that at times, it was hard to tell whose side they
were on.
As he ran, he fixated on the first dead jackalwere he
had seen. Then he spotted a second and a third. Even Zian’s
savage warriors are falling under the sheer number of enemy
troops.
“How many of those beasts are there?” Lieutenant Hart
yelled to Karn.
“I’m not sure. It’s too dark and they move too fast to
tell.”
“We’re almost at the opening!” Tala shouted.
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Karn turned about, Mustaffa’s men were in disarray and
cutoff. It was the advantage Kel Tora needed. If all
continues as planned, Kel Tora’s soldiers will engage
Mustaffa’s army soon. We can win this. We’re going to win
this.
Suddenly, Mustaffa’s men began to hold their ground
and the noise of battle that rang in Karn’s ears dropped to
almost nothing. He laid eyes on Zian. He and a group of
other jackalweres paced aggressively; only a few feet in
front of them was a line of giant men.
“They must be Mustaffa’s personal guards,” Tala said
between her teeth.
“Do you know how to use that?” Karn motioned to the
pike with his sword.
“I prefer daggers.”
“Fine, but can you use a pike, Tala?”
“Worry not, my love. I have killed before,” Tala
answered with a nod. “All elves have.”
Karn turned to Lieutenant Hart and ordered him and his
men to protect Tala. “Hold fast. Defend her.”
“From everyone?” Lieutenant Hart replied.
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Karn saw the enemy that pursued them; they too had
come to a halt a safe distance from the giants and
jackalweres. Something’s wrong. Karn spun around. We’re
surrounded.
“Hold here,” he said, approaching Zian for counsel.
“Like we have a choice?” Hart griped.
As Karn drew closer, he could put a number to the
jackalwere that paced back and forth and growled at
Mustaffa’s big men. There were fifteen counting Zian, more
than twice the number of giants.
“Zian, why did we stop? We’ve allowed ourselves to be
surrounded. What’s wrong?”
“These giants,” Zian grumbled. “They belong to a
mountain-dwelling tribe. They were once our allies.”
“What the hell are they doing here, in league with
Mustaffa?”
“It has been long rumored that several families were
exiled along with Naraboo ages ago,” Zian stated coldly.
Not once did he shift his eyes off his opponents.
“Zian, listen to me. It no longer matters who these
men once were. It only matters who they are now.”
“Odd, coming from you.”
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“Damn it, Zian! We fight or we die!” Karn exclaimed.
“Fight or not, you will die tonight, mage pawn!” a
deep voice bellowed.
Mustaffa himself stepped out from behind the row of
colossal guards; his sudden appearance seized the attention
of everyone in the area. Karn’s eyes locked on the man. It
seemed Mustaffa stood seven feet tall, almost equal in
power to the giants beside him. Although he looked to be in
his fifties, with the exception of his bald head and
weatherworn face, the warlord showed few signs of old age.
He wore thick, heavy armor. The plates were as black
as the night sky and seemed to absorb what little firelight
touched him. Atop his shoulders sat large spiked pauldrons,
making them look as wide as an anvil.
The anxiety that had been buried inside Karn from the
first moment he laid eyes on the conquered town of Weiden’s
Rise suddenly resurfaced. Just like the warlord that
possessed him, Karn saw his home in ruins. Fear began to
dominate him. It felt like it was rising from his feet to
his legs, through his body. Karn felt as if he might
collapse.
“What do they call you, boy?” Mustaffa’s voice made
him jump.
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Karn stepped through the jackalwere ranks, just as
Mustaffa had moved through his men, and planted his feet
firmly on the ground before he announced himself.
“My name is Karn.”
“Karn?” Mustaffa laughed. “Are you so sure that’s your
name?”
“I—”
“I had an identity such as yours, Karn.” Mustaffa
interrupted and then shouted. “Before the mages ruined my
life.”
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Chapter 60
Strike
Above the battleground, high atop the hillside’s peak,
unnoticed by the soldiers below, a vortex of purple light
appeared. Gusts of wind blew leaves over the side of the
crest as Opal stepped through the magical portal. Not far
from where the portal opened stood Malek, Dusk, and the
same unfamiliar student Opal had chased across Illyia the
other day.
Are these the last remaining Archmages of the High
Council?
Opal wore a new cloak that neither matched the High
Council’s markings nor those of the upstarts. She had made
a statement she hoped was clear: This was her time; she was
an archmage; she was in charge.
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Before she said anything, she bowed to all three men,
and then gazed down the hill at the army below.
“We were concerned. You never returned to us the other
day. We thought you had changed your mind,” Dusk said.
“No, I simply changed the rules, which I will be doing
often from now on,” Opal answered.
“Changed the rules?” the nameless mage asked. “How—”
“As your new leader.”
“What?” Malek’s jaw dropped.
“Words can be saved for later; this is a time for
action,” Dusk answered her boasts.
A hushed moment passed as all four stared down at
Mustaffa’s vast army and the approach of Kel Tora’s forces.
For all her bravado, Opal felt small in comparison. But it
was not those thousands she had to deal with first; it was
only these three.
“Opal, look at them.” Malek pointed. “So many men will
die today, and do any of them even have a clue as to why?”
“Kel Tora is no match for an army this large,” Opal
said in a tone of voice that was as callous as Malek’s.
“There! Look—an opening in the warlord’s formations!”
Dusk said, and then chanted a small rhyme that created a
floating eye. The eye, which appeared above his hand on a
small cloud of thick smoke, was almost twice the size of a
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human eye. After he instructed the floating eye, Dusk
released it, and a little cloud of smoke rose from his
hand. Opal watched it float down toward the field, directly
to where the forest opened up.
“Where’s Karn?” she anxiously asked. “Is he leading
Kel Tora’s forces?”
“There. The Rook is there, at the opening between this
hill and the forest. He’s found Naraboo!” Dusk exclaimed.
“He’s surrounded by the enemy,” the nameless mage
added.
“Did the fool think he could take them on all alone?”
Malek’s old voice crackled with disgust.
As Opal concentrated on a spell, wind raced through
the gully, the storm clouds dark. Moments later, the
heavens opened and rain poured down on the poised armies.
“Cover your eyes,” Opal said as her body pulsated with
a bright yellow aura that grew stronger and stronger with
each passing moment.
Hands above her head, Opal spread out her fingers,
then, suddenly, she cast them back down at the enemy army
with a blood-curdling scream. A massive lightning bolt, the
width of ten oak trees, exploded from the murky clouds in
the sky, illuminating the battlefield as it hurtled down.
***
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Tala stared at the sky, her eyes widening, and without
a thought, she tackled Karn. Mustaffa gazed up
indifferently just as a thunderous roar rattled the field
and the forest. A gigantic bolt of lightning sped toward
him, the night sky transformed into day, but when it was
within fifty feet of him, a magical barrier flickered into
view. The dome encased Mustaffa and protected everyone
within a fifty-foot radius.
BOOM.
The shield rattled and shimmered a translucent green
just before it flashed brightly and reflected the
thunderbolt back in several hundred smaller branches of
crackling energy that blasted in all directions, many of
which struck Mustaffa’s troops.
The lightning burned clean through the armored men,
killing dozens instantly. Numerous smaller bolts blasted
the wet ground, and sent electrical shocks through the
grass from soldier to soldier, through the metal each man
carried. In an instant of total bedlam, hundreds of troops
were thrown backward from the force, while others shook
with violent convulsions before they fell to the ground,
dead. When it was over, thick acrid smoke filled the air.
It was nearly impossible to see.
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A strong gust of fresh air blew across the field and
slowly cleared the thick smoke. Tala could finally survey
the damage; the lightning had taken a nearly immeasurable
toll.
The once-green grass had been singed to blackened ash
for several hundred feet. There was no way to count the
dead; if asked, Tala would have said there was only one man
who need die today—but he was safe. Mustaffa lived.
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Chapter 61
Struck
Opal collapsed to the ground, hyperventilating. The
energy pouring out of her through such an extremely
powerful spell and the shock of seeing her attack on
Mustaffa fail, despite its effect on his men, had
devastated her. As she lay on the ground, she gasped for
air. He cannot be harmed by magic, she dimly realized.
Blinded by the rage that had built up inside her for days,
Opal had forgotten the warlord’s magic-dispelling amulet.
“Now! Use your spell to transfer her magical essence
to us!” Malek yelled to Dusk.
Malek’s treacherous machinations had finally come to
fruition. Four jagged beams of black energy emanated from
Dusk’s hands, struck Opal’s chest, and latched on to her
like wiggling leeches.
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“You’re too powerful to control, Opal, so there’s
really only one option left, right, brothers?” Malek said
“Steal her powers and destroy her,” the nameless mage
answered.
“I was on the cusp of becoming the most powerful
archmage in the history of the High Council! And you, a
mere student, dared to ruin me!” Malek leaned toward.
“Today, I kill you for embarrassing me!”
“I yearn to taste her youthful lifeblood first,” Dusk
exclaimed. “Stay your hand until I have had my chance.”
“You destroyed the High Council, Opal! You did!” Malek
spat at her. “We gave you the knowledge to use your powers,
and you turned them against us!”
“Yes, and now your boundless energy will be ours.” The
nameless mage shook with excitement. “We will be reborn!”
Opal’s head began to spin. Not even the chilly, autumn
air could cool her fever. Weakened, she tipped over onto
her back. Her legs felt like mush; nevertheless, she tried
to use them to push herself toward the ledge of the
hilltop. As Dusk blasted her with the next stage of his
spell, Opal reached out to Karn with her mind, but once
again she felt the enchanted amulet dispel her magic. I
have failed you. I failed myself.
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Dusk’s evil spell pervaded Opal’s body. She felt it
reach into the deepest core of her soul and siphon the
magical energy from her, but the magic worked slowly, and
it would take some time before she was entirely drained of
her powers. Look at them, my energy surging through their
bodies; they look intoxicated. Bastards.
It reminded Opal of how she felt when she had stolen
the life from Karn’s wife. It was enthralling. And before
it ended, it washed away all the other physical sensations.
She understood both sides of the spell now; and for a
moment, Opal agreed that she deserved just this.
As she lay there, helpless, her eyes grew dim. She
felt her life slip away as a cold numbness took over. As
her world went black, she heard a faint murderous cry. At
that moment, just before her senses completely faded, she
heard Sadok the mage hunter yell an order.
His archers launched a volley of arrows at the three
old mages before he charged in, wielding his polearm.
Ensnared in their own spell, the mages were unable to
defend themselves enough as Sadok swung his polearm with
precision. He sliced open and gored Dusk. The old mage
coughed dark brown blood down the front of his robes as he
gripped his belly.
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Opal watched two arrows strike Malek, one deep in his
shoulder, the other in his thigh.
When Malek looked for an escape, he came face to face
with the student. Six arrows protruded from the man’s
chest, and a seventh was lodged deep in his throat. He
looked confused.
When the spell finally broke, Malek was free to move.
Although the pain must have been terrible, he tried to
flee, nearly tripping over the body of his colleague.
Sadok lowered his arm and signaled his archers to fire
a second volley at their target. Opal flinched as three
arrows pierced Malek’s back in a neat triangle before a
final arrow penetrated his other shoulder, burying itself
deep in the muscle and bone. The impact knocked him to his
knees, and he began to crawl, in a last attempt to escape.
Sadok pushed Dusk’s body from his polearm with a foot
and calmly approached Malek.
“Your time in this world is over, you sick
abomination!” Sadok proclaimed.
Opal watched him, now only a blur of shadows to her,
raise his weapon over his head, aim, and impale Malek
through the back.
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Chapter 62
Inner
Opal’s eyes would not open. She was surrounded by
limitless black. This is it. I’m dying. She accepted it.
She felt calm, warm, and numb, until a cold wind whistled
in her ear, its touch chilling her cheek. In the distance
were muffled voices, but she did not care what they said.
As she lay motionless in the soft grass, her thoughts went
one last time to Karn. She loved him and hoped that he
would forgive her.
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Chapter 63
War II
Karn’s ears popped as he slowly stood. His first sight
was Lieutenant Hart, who appeared to be no less surprised
at finding himself alive than Karn was.
While he coughed and choked on the scent of burned
flesh, he took a long look around. It seemed that every
last man on the battlefield, ally and foe, was staggered by
the devastation caused by massive lightning bolt. Fear
combined with uncertainty, the sum of which was panic.
This was no natural occurrence. No. This was the
mages. He could sense it in his body and soul.
Karn looked for Mustaffa. The man was standing, wiping
the sweat from his brow with his cape. He was unharmed but
clearly shaken by the assault.
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“You should’ve fled when you had the chance.” Karn
pulled Tala to her feet and instructed her to perform a
quick head count.
“All of Lieutenant Hart’s soldiers survived. You
realize that was not Mother Nature’s doing it—”
“Look at Zian.”
Zian and the other jackalweres had crept forward and
now stood mere feet from the giants. He’s taking advantage
of the chaos.
Zian suddenly leapt forward, sprinted past the giants,
and aimed himself like an arrow, right at Mustaffa.
“Zian! No!” Karn shouted.
The beast-man lunged at Mustaffa with an unearthly
cry, but the warlord showed no fear, lashing out with his
weapon with equal speed. The sword cut into Zian’s flesh
and the jackalwere fell hard to the ground with a wet
thump.
Karn and Tala both screamed in shock.
“You pathetic dog. You thought you could kill me?”
Mustaffa asked, knocking the beast-man with his foot.
Two jackalweres quickly attended to Zian. As they
carried him off and Mustaffa laughed contemptuously, Tala
pointed to the warlord’s jeweled amulet clutched in Zian’s
hand.
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“Look, Karn. He took the amulet. Zian took Mustaffa’s
amulet.”
Karn didn’t care about the amulet. All he saw was a
loyal ally being dragged off the battlefield while the
other jackalweres milled about anxiously. The sight enraged
him.
This is my fate. Not theirs, Karn thought, drawing his
sword and pointing it at Mustaffa. A flash of memory from
the warlord’s soul overlapped with his and filled his mind.
In that instant, Karn learned something about the savage
warrior he shared his fate with. There was nothing the
ancient warlord enjoyed more than a bloody fight. He often
surrounded himself with his enemy just so that he could
fully unleash his fury. Karn felt the yearning for blood
too—his muscles tensed, his concentration sharpened, and
his desire to kill quadrupled.
“I’m going to take your other eye, and after that, I
will carve you in two!” Karn shouted, and then commanded
Lieutenant Hart and his squad to attack.
“Not today, boy!” Mustaffa commanded his giant guards
to fight.
Three of the giants promptly engaged Lieutenant Hart’s
soldiers. Each man fought hard, attempting to protect
himself and his comrades. Yet every swing of a giant’s club
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or oversized battle-axe knocked down one of Kel Tora’s
soldiers. Outmuscled, the men buckled, one after the other,
under the force of the enemy.
Karn wanted Mustaffa, but he rushed to the aid of Kel
Tora’s men first. He jumped up and swung high at one
giant’s head. The massive man, already engaged by two of
Kel Tora’s soldiers, parried Karn’s attack with his
colossal club. Nevertheless, Karn swung again and again and
again.
“Die,” he screamed, each time he pressed forward.
Karn’s attack had forced the giant to give up ground, his
body teetering back with every blow. When the moment Karn
had been waiting for finally appeared and the tiring
giant’s guard dropped, he was ready.
On an upward strike, Karn’s sword cleaved the
monstrous man’s thick club in half and sliced through his
body from stomach to chin.
Wounded and losing his footing, the giant warrior
tried to defend himself from Karn’s press, windmilling his
arms to regain his balance. Karn leapt forward, parried the
remainder of his adversary’s weapon to the side, and drove
his sword through the gigantic man’s thick neck.
“Die!” Karn shouted, withdrawing his sword and
sidestepping as the giant fell forward, dead.
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Who’s left? Who’s alive? After another quick head
count, he made out that Lieutenant Hart and nine of his
soldiers still stood, but so did one of the gigantic
enemies. Karn searched for Tala, spotting her behind a trio
of jackalweres who remained on the battlefield. She’s
alive. He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to face
Mustaffa again. The man had not moved an inch during the
fight.
Arms crossed, Mustaffa laughed. “Can you not see, boy?
You and I are the same; we’ve both been wronged by these
wicked mages.”
“Then go! Fight the mages!” Karn shouted. “Why must
you destroy Illyia in the process?”
Mustaffa’s face turned red. “That’s what they created
me for. I cannot quench my thirst for conquest, just as I
imagine you cannot ease your craving for vengeance. You
see, we are the same.”
“I’m nothing like you!” Karn bellowed, taking another
step forward.
“Oh? Need I remind you of your wife and child,
Nathan?”
Mustaffa’s words halted Karn’s advance. It seemed as
if the world itself stopped. “What? How—how did you know?”
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“Does it really matter? Isn’t killing those who ruined
your life more important?” Mustaffa asked, his voice a deep
rumble.
“I—”
A small cavalry unit erupted on to the scene. The unit
of fifty or more men had broken through the side of the
enemy lines and flanked them, quickly overwhelming the last
of Mustaffa’s guard. The unexpected aid could not have
arrived at a better time, as Lieutenant Hart and his
soldiers were clearly exhausted.
“Thank the gods of battle!” Lieutenant Hart gasped as
he bent over, hands on his knees.
“Morwik’s unit!” one of Kel Tora’s soldiers cried from
his defensive position.
“You’ll all die today, and for what reason?” Mustaffa
asked as Karn’s attention returned to him.
“Enough talk!” Karn eased forward again, closing the
distance between them.
“The elf?”
Mustaffa smiled. “You fight because of
her? How sweet.”
“I’ll have your bald head, you fucking bastard!” Karn
leapt.
Mustaffa moved into a defensive posture with shocking
speed but he was not fast enough. Karn’s sword cut his left
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arm to the bone. It hung limp and dead at his side, but
Mustaffa seemed unaffected by the wound and struck Karn
across the face with the fist that clutched his weapon.
Dazed, Karn stepped back, swinging wildly at Mustaffa,
who raised his jagged sword in an equally strong swing. The
two swords locked together with a loud clang as the men
strained to push themselves apart.
“She’s using you, Nathan!” Mustaffa yelled in Karn’s
face. “That fetching young elf maiden of yours.”
“You,” Karn grumbled. “Do not so much as look at her.”
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Chapter 64
War III
Tala heard every word the two men spoke. There was no
denying it; this moment brought an end to her past and
determined her future.
Tala watched Karn kick Mustaffa’s leg, which buckled,
causing the warlord to stagger back a few steps.
No, I can end this. Tala lifted her pike. I can be the
master of my own fate. She prepared to throw it, but a
high-pitched whistle startled her. As Tala turned, she
spotted an arrow in flight. She jerked the pike in her
hands, deflecting the speeding projectile directly into her
thigh.
Tala swore in her native tongue as the pain ripped
through her leg.
“Archers!” one of Hart’s squad screamed.
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“Get Tala off the battlefield now!” Lieutenant Hart
ordered two of his men.
As one soldier lifted Tala from the ground an arrow
drilled through his neck. Blood splattered onto Tala’s face
as the dying man spilled her to the grass. When the second
soldier turned to help, she saw dozens and dozens of arrows
that cluttered the sky.
“Run!” the soldier screamed before abandoning her.
Pinned under the dead soldier, Tala did not have time
to escape. Instead, she wrenched the shield from the dead
man’s hand and slid her legs free, positioning the shield
over her curled-up body. Lieutenant Hart knelt beside her
just before the arrows struck, adding his shield to hers.
Tala looked into Lieutenant Hart’s eyes as the arrows
rained down on them. The drum of steel arrowheads against
the iron of Kel Tora’s shields was overwhelmingly loud, but
Tala saw no evidence of fear on his face.
Tala peeked out from under the shields when the deluge
stopped; Karn and Mustaffa fought on, each man trading
blows over and over, neither giving an inch.
“The mages created you after I rebelled,” Mustaffa
said, his voice grating. “I was a warlord before and after
the transformation! You cannot best me, fisherman!”
“Die!” Karn swung his sword wildly at Mustaffa.
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Even with one arm, Mustaffa was able to parry the
attack, following it with a kick to Karn’s belly that
forced Karn to fall forward past him.
“They called you Rook, after the game piece, but you
were nothing more than a pawn,” Mustaffa mocked.
Tala sneered, imagining Karn’s reaction.
“You’re more of a monster than the mages are,” Karn
grunted as he stood.
Tala heard Lieutenant Hart order his and Morwik’s men
to move on Mustaffa. He’s smart. He knows the enemy archers
will not fire on us if were too close to their leader.
Sadly, this will not save us from the hundreds of footmen
who now approach.
Tala grasped the shaft of the arrow sticking out of
her leg. With a quick twist of her wrist, she broke it in
half, what remained inside her leg quivering. Gnashing her
teeth, she pulled the shaft through and howled in pain.
Blood had stained her leather pant leg down to her
boot. The leg felt numb. This is a bad wound. I have to
stop the bleeding, but there’s no time. She looked at the
enemy soldiers, Kel Tora’s men who fought them off, and
Karn and Mustaffa. It was obvious to her that the two were
exhausted.
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“Morwik’s men will hold off the enemy, but not long.
We must choose now,” Lieutenant Hart observed. “Go now, or
stay and fight.”
“We can overtake Mustaffa!” a veteran shouted,
energized and ready to fight.
Tala could see that Karn and Mustaffa were too evenly
matched, and she knew that Hart and his soldiers could
easily tip the scales in Karn’s advantage. But the outcome
of this battle needed to be decided between the two men:
the most fit will be deemed worthy to survive.
“No!” Tala said. “It’s almost over. Let Karn finish
it.”
She nearly regretted her words, as Karn’s attacks had
become slow and sloppy, but Mustaffa’s parries were weak
and less effective as well. The two men chopped at each
other until neither could raise their weapon.
The warlord cradled his dead arm with his good one
while Karn hunched over at the waist, gasping.
“Here they come. Ready yourselves!” Hart shouted.
Tala refused to look back. If the enemy was to
overcome Kel Tora’s men and reach her, she would rather not
know. She would rather keep her eyes forward on the future
than back on the past.
“Fight Karn! You can win this.”
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Both men seemed to prepare for one final clash. Karn
wiped the blood and sweat drenched hair from his face,
while Mustaffa slid a hand over his head. Each man
straightened their stance a moment before they charged,
swords poised to strike. Mud churned up around them as
their feet dug deep in the chewed up ground. Karn let out a
war cry that joined Mustaffa’s bottomless yell.
Tala swore the ground shook as the two warriors
collided. Sword struck shield, fist hit armor, and shoulder
braced shoulder. The two men were a blur, seemingly blended
together. Tala watched closely, and even her elven vision,
which normally allowed her to slow down movements too fast
for human senses to comprehend, was put to the test. Karn
lunged into Mustaffa sideways and with such speed that the
older man could not defend himself. Tala gasped. Karn’s
sword plunged deep into the belly of the warlord and once
there, Karn yanked his blade up to his foe’s throat,
freeing it from his body at the neck. Blood sprayed out in
every direction as Mustaffa fell face forward to the
ground.
A rush of air filled Tala’s lungs. She felt herself
stagger back, almost collapsing. He did it. He’s put an end
to my past. Her whole body began to shake.
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Karn’s name was cheered all around her. Tala smiled
but did not celebrate. She knew the day was far from
finished.
“Lieutenant Hart, we cannot hold this. Get your men to
safety. We all need to withdraw now!” Morwik ordered as he
rode up to them on his horse.
“Understood.”
Tala limped past the bodies of the dead giants to
Karn’s side. She took his hand in hers, looked into his
eyes, and kissed his cheek. He did not say a word. He
simply reached up and ran his hand through her hair to the
back of her neck and smiled.
“We need to leave. Are you able to run?” Tala asked,
her voice full of concern.
“I’ll be right behind you.”
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Chapter 65
Ended
Opal awoke gradually. Her eyes adjusted to the
moonlight and fixed onto Malek’s corpse only twenty feet
from her. His mouth was open as if to scream, but instead
of words, thick blood oozed out. As Opal gazed into his
blank eyes, her memory returned. She could not fathom why
she was still alive. She pushed herself up slowly, still
drained from the spell the archmages had used on her. As
she rolled over, she was startled to find Sadok seated
nearby.
“Sadok?” Her voice cracked.
“Opal, by the blessed gods, you’re alive?” He sounded
both shocked and astonished.
“What happened?”
“I thought you dead.” Sadok smiled.
“No. Not yet.”
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“Your plan worked. We ambushed and killed the three
mages with no losses.”
“The battle?”
“It looks like your friend defeated Mustaffa in single
combat.” Sadok helped Opal into a more comfortable
position.
Opal turned toward the battlefield and retched.
Malek’s spell had done untold damage, but there was no time
to worry about it.
“Karn? Is he alive?” she asked, wiping her face.
“Yes, but not for long if he doesn’t make a run for
those trees.” Sadok pointed.
Opal panicked, still unable to focus on the
battlefield below. “What?”
“Enemy soldiers approach him from three different
directions. He needs to get to safety right now. I fear he
may not make it.”
Opal thought back to her talk with Limper the other
night.
“A body can be healed, but a soul cannot be saved once
death occurs,” Opal repeated as she remembered it.
“What is that, Opal?”
“I must save him, Sadok.”
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Too weak to stand, Opal crossed her legs and tried to
sit up straight. She cleared her mind and visualized the
scroll. She had memorized the words for the spell her
former instructor had given her. As she recalled them, one
by one, the overwhelming urge to use and complete the spell
invaded her mind. Panic-stricken and unable to control
herself, she followed through, and what little strength she
had mustered was quickly sapped. As soon as the spell was
completed, she fainted back into the tall grass.
***
On the battlefield, Karn had knelt down beside
Mustaffa and whispered to the man’s body. “I’m not like
you. After this battle, I’m finished. My only desire is to
raise a family and go back to being a fisherman again. And
now that you’re dead, I can do just that.”
Tala had only managed to distance herself several
dozen feet, skipping and hopping on her bad leg, when she
heard Karn’s send off to the enemy. She turned back, to
yell at him to move, when she spotted something strange.
Tiny black and orange sparks of light swirled up from the
grass and leaves beneath Karn and Mustaffa’s body. The
lights, no bigger than pebbles, increased in size as they
floated upward and, began to spin around Karn.
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A sense of danger pervaded all of Tala’s senses and
pushed a scream out of her mouth. Hardly able to keep on
her feet, she limped to Karn’s side as the lights spun so
fast that they began to blur together into a dark orange.
“Karn!” she shrieked as she reached out to him.
The lights that spun around him had formed an
impenetrable translucent cylinder. Tala watched as Karn
realized he had been captured, once again, by the mages.
“Release me!” Karn pounded his fists against the
barrier. When nothing happened, his anger shifted to fear.
“Tala,” he yelled through the barrier. “What is this?
What’s happening to me?”
“I don’t know!”
The cylinder of light stretched up, then retracted
into Karn. Instantly, his body erupted into a magical dark
orange light as if he had been set on fire. But the aura
did not burn. No longer trapped, Karn took a weakened step
forward.
“Oh no! Karn, no!” Tala groaned as she reached out to
him.
Karn dropped hard to his knees, the dark orange glow
still shedding from his body. Tala could hear his labored
breathing.
“I love you,” she cried.
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“I love you too,” he gasped in response.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Tala, I-I can barely see you…” He reached out to her,
but he tipped over to his side. “Why… why’s this happening
to me?”
“I don’t know,” she cried.
Tala picked up his head and rested it on her lap as
she knelt before him. She stroked his hair and spoke softly
into his ear.
“I was going to tell you later, my love. I just
realized a few days ago myself… You’ve given me a child.
You’re a part of me now, inside me; our love is one.”
“You’ll make a beautiful, wonderful mother.” Karn’s
voice cracked and grew fainter with each word; his body
tensed and shook violently.
Tala watched as his face strained and turned red with
pain. She wrapped her arms around him tighter, hoping her
strength was enough to protect him from the seizure. Tala
did not need heightened senses or a connection with Mother
Nature to know it would not be long till death stole him
away.
When Karn went limp in her arms and his last breath
escaped through his mouth and nose, the aura that
surrounded his body vanished. Tala sobbed, her body shaking
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and her muscles tensing tight. The hurt inside her built,
and her rage compounded with each breath. The pain of a
lifetime of strife finally reached an explosive end.
“Drae’Qu!”
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Chapter 66
Departure
Karn’s squad had done their job well. Mustaffa’s army
had been slowed enough that Kel Tora’s troops were able to
get into position outside the forest. Kel Tora’s battle
formations easily subdued the enemy squads that had been
forced through the small opening between the forest and
hills.
With the loss of their leader, the enemy suffered a
period of mass confusion until the higher generals regained
composure. During the disarray, Kel Tora’s leaders ordered
two elven divisions into the forest to flank the enemy and
fire arrows into their ranks. In the time gained by this
tactic, Kel Tora was able to seize one last advantage.
Unlike any of the other lands Mustaffa’s armies had
besieged, Kel Tora had working catapults.
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The battle lasted until the middle of the following
morning. When the conflict finally ended, the once-lavish
green strip of land was stained red with blood. Over ten
thousand men had lost their lives and almost three thousand
more lay wounded.
At the mouth of the gully’s opening, between the steep
hills and the forest, bodies were stacked almost three
deep. Fires burned sporadically across the battlefield with
red-grey smoke billowing up past the highest treetops.
There was a heavy, damp chill in the air that foreshadowed
the coming of winter.
Opal had awoken gradually. Atop the hill, she gazed up
at the tiny flakes of snow that swirled down from the
heavens. Her mind struggled to clear the fog that continued
to pollute her head. When her eyes at long last focused,
the sun stung them.
Opal rolled over and stared out at the battlefield.
Before, it was filled with men, and now, it was filled with
bodies. By the gods, they’re all dead. Such carnage. Did
anyone survive this?
Before Opal tested her legs, she tested her magic.
With just a simple thought, clear, sparkling water appeared
in her cupped hands. As she finished the first, she created
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a second handful of water, and then a third. She felt as if
she had not drank for days.
Before she finished the third handful, she remembered
what she had done. Karn’s dead. She spit out the water in
her mouth and separated her hands. Karn’s really dead…
Opal opened a portal and crawled through it as fast as
she could. In a blink, she was deposited on the field that
was beforehand beneath her.
Once on the battlefield, she stumbled through the
piles of the dead searching for Karn. The smell was
horrible; a mixture of blood, burnt flesh, and smoke crept
up her nostrils. If it were not for the sheer panic that
controlled her body, Opal would have vomited at the
gruesome sights she saw. Bodies and parts of bodies covered
the field. It will take me days to sort through them all in
an attempt to find one man, she thought.
Hours passed. Blood stained her feet and legs, up to
her knees, and she still had not found Karn. Off in the
distance, past the opening to the field, Opal spied a group
of men apparently doing exactly what she was: sorting
through the dead. Opal transported herself to them through
another portal.
The men seemed less than surprised by the purple
vortex when it opened and Opal stepped through it. She
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recognized some of them—Kel Tora’s generals and advisors.
As she looked about, she came eye to eye with Duke Essex
and his royal guards.
It appeared that the duke had fought at the front of
this battle. His armor was dented. A slice open the side,
and his fine silk cape was tattered and bloody. Yet, when
Opal stepped up to the monarch, he bowed to her as if he
were at a formal function.
“Lady Opal, I must say, I’m delighted to see you.”
“Have you seen Karn?” Opal asked frantically.
“Opal, I want you to know that we owe this victory, in
part, to you. Your magical lightning bolts destroyed
hundreds of Mustaffa’s men and scared off equally as many.”
Opal blinked. She only saw the spell as a failure
since it had missed Mustaffa. Duke Essex’s words of
assurance helped ease her heart but only for the briefest
moment. “My lord, have you seen Karn?”
“My deepest condolences, Opal.” Duke Essex bowed his
head. “Witnesses say he was felled shortly after defeating
Mustaffa.”
A sick feeling twisted Opal’s stomach into a knot. She
needed to find his body and repair it before she returned
his soul to it. I know Karn will love me again. When he
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sees what I did. The duke will tell him, and he will
understand. He will love me.
“Where is he?” she asked impatiently.
“Opal, I’m afraid I have no clue where Karn’s body
is,” Duke Essex replied.
“I do,” another soldier said as he approached.
“Lieutenant Hart,” the duke said. “Good to see you.
You look to have fared well.”
“I’m alive.”
“I am pleased.” Duke Essex nodded. “So what say you?”
“Karn… The elf took his body off the battlefield
before the battle ended,” Lieutenant Hart explained. “She
said something about taking him to a lake outside of Kel
Tora.”
“Elf?” Opal did not understand.
“Yes. Tala, his lover.”
“Lieutenant Hart—” Duke Essex began.
“No—I…” Opal summoned a portal behind her. “I have to
go.”
The purple glare from the magical vortex lit up the
falling snowflakes, making them sparkle. The wind surged,
whipping the flakes through the gully and across the
battlefield until the portal closed, and Opal was gone.
***
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Now at Kel Tora’s gates, Opal ran into the town. She
called out, pleading for help from anyone who would listen.
Someone had to know where the lake was, but no one would
answer her. She cast another spell, one that located
things, and Opal quickly pinpointed a nearby body of water.
Opal sprinted out of town, her heart in her throat.
She followed the pull of her spell, straight down the path
away from town, and into the forest. The lake is not far.
She prayed she was not too late. There’s still time to
return Karn’s soul to his body. I know there is.
When she finally arrived at the shore, she spotted a
beautiful elven woman, her arms crossed, still as a statue,
along the water’s edge. This must be her. This must be
Tala…
A small fire burned on a wooden platform in the middle
of the lake, as Opal navigated the tall weeds that
surrounded the small body of water. The firelight
flickered, growing dark as the makeshift raft broke up.
Opal used what little energy she had left to conjure a
simple spell that lit up the lake and its surrounding area
with a pale yellow light.
Tala’s voice cracked as she announced, “You’re too
late.”
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As Opal approached the water’s edge, the young elf
looked away, but not before Opal could see that she was
crying.
“What have you done?” Opal snapped as her eyes fixed
on what used to be the platform in the middle of the lake;
the pieces started to sink. She knew exactly what the elf
had done, but she wanted to hear her say it.
“We were lifemates,” Tala said.
“You had no right to burn his body!” Opal lashed out,
enraged.
“We were lifemates.” Tala showed Opal her necklace.
“It is my right, human, my right to give him a proper
warrior’s burial.”
The realization that all was lost was too much for
Opal to handle. Her heart twisted into a pounding mass of
misery. And then it hit her. Opal felt as if she had been
tricked into taking Karn’s life. Those bastards, they used
Karn to kill Mustaffa and me to rid themselves of Karn.
Opal dropped to her knees and began to sob deeply.
“I could’ve resurrected him,” she cried heavily. “I
wanted to help him.”
“Help him? You-you murdered his family.”
“What?” No one outside of the High Council should have
known that. “Who are you?”
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“Your kind stole his soul. I gave him life and love
when you offered him nothing but death.” Tala’s words
struck her like a biting snake.
“I was going to bring him back to life,” Opal repeated
as she wept.
“A life you stole from him? No, I’ll make sure his
memory never dies,” Tala whispered placing her hand on her
stomach.
Tala walked away to a tree that stood tall at the path
to the lake, reached up into a crook that was not much
higher than her head, and grabbed the leather scabbard of
Karn’s sword. She tucked the weapon safely under her arm
and walked off in the direction of Kel Tora. Opal did
nothing to stop her.
“I hate this land!” Opal screamed in grief-filled
rage. “I hate it!”
Opal pounded her fists over and over again in the
moist soil. Exhausted, she buried her head in her arms and
curled into a ball. She prayed for the numbness to come.
She welcomed it, not matter its form—even death.
Little did she know, that deep within her, grew a new
spark of life.
THE END
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Copyright © Kevin James Breaux 2009-2016
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Biography
Kevin James Breaux is an award-winning author and artist.
His professional writing credits span over seven years and
include short stories and novels. He is a member of the
Horror Writers Association and the Erotic Authors
Association.
Writing is his business.
Write Makes Might!©
site: www.kevinbreaux.com
twitter: @kevinbreaux
Kevin is represented by Marisa A. Corvisiero the founder of
the Corvisiero Literary Agency.
site: www.corvisieroagency.com
e-mail: marisa@corvisieroagency.com
twitter: @mcorvisiero
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Awards and Accolades
SOUL BORN was awarded 1st place in the Preditors and
Editors Readers Poll 2010.
"Kevin Breaux has a unique style: bold, funny, aggressive
and dynamic. SOUL BORN is a rollicking high fantasy
adventure!" --NY Times bestseller Jonathan Maberry, author
of The King of Plagues and Rot & Ruin.
"There's a TON of great imagery in the book to pull from,
But Opal definitely steals the show. I think she is such a
visually evocative character, that'd it'd be a shame not to
make the cover about her and her magic." --Dan Dos Santos.
"With Soul Born, Kevin James Breaux carves out his own
fresh turf in the world of dark high fantasy." --Gregory
Frost, author of SHADOWBRIDGE
"Soul Born is a fascinating chronicle of the battle between
good and evil, the forces of nature pitted against the
corruptive elements of excessive power." - Bitten By Books
""Soul Born" is a fast paced and fun world of fantasy,
highly recommended reading." - Midwest Book Review
"Soul Born is a fantastic page-turning beginning to author
Kevin Breaux’s fantasy trilogy." - Douglas Cobb, Book Spot
Central