Index:
Episode 1 - The League of Iron assembles
Episode 3 - Legacy of the Veil Breakers
Episode 7 - Home is where the hearth is
Episode 8 - Last of the Old Ones
Episode 12 - Mistress of Flesh
Episode 15 - March of the parasites
Episode 16 - Shadows in the Fog
Ruins of the past.
Despair, that most foul enemy of Princess Hope, she would threaten to ravage the mind of anyone who'd dare lay their eyes upon this broken city. Weistarr, in all its shattered glory, had emerged from the brownish fog on the second day of their trek across the Ruined lands. Now, and from this range, not even the thick Miasma could hide its shattered walls from the Four.
Atop the ruined towers there gleamed a throng of hollow eyes, and bony fingers clutched olden spears. Moldy, rusted armor, and broken shields fed the noon air with their disheartening clangor. Feet that shouldn't be marching, patrolled Weistarr's olden cobbled streets. Eye sockets, long since made hollow by Father Time, shone with vile flame forever vigilant and on the look for the living.
Breathless voices spoke foul words with rotten lips, defiling the beautiful Neldaeiri tongue. These treacherous fools who most willingly murdered kin and peaceful culture, barred the way of those who dared approach dreaded Zhul. This vast army of the failed dead, clad in delusion, armed with lies, and fed by empty promises, would never suffer the brave to pass.
“A day will come, when my Knightly Order would wipe Weistarr clean of all Veil Breakers! One cannot build a peaceful future without first reclaiming one's past.” - Avowed Dalnor, his visor up, and armored finger pointed at the marching corpses.
“Cometh that day,” - grumbled the Ranger, his powerful eyes piercing through fog and Miasma - “and all of Alkiorn will march shoulder to shoulder with the Knights of Iron.”
Weapons ready, hiding among the corpsified trees atop a hill overseeing Weistarr, the Four were planning their next move.
“I say,” - whispered Eirunn, who'd counted a surprisingly small number of wizardly Veil Breakers among the walking dead - “that day might be much closer than any of us could've imagined.”
“Whatever do you mean, maiden Sorceress?” - inquired the Elf, who had chanted a number of protective prayers since early morn.
“What would your fellow brother knights say, Master Dalnor, and you, Master Ainhart, if we reconsecrate Mother Vayila's temple?”
Her companions exchanged looks full of confusion before they gazed upon Eirunn, eyes wide and mouth agape.
“Is it even possible to wield such a power?!” - Exclaimed the Knight.
With a calm sigh, the Sorceress opened her potion box and produced a small phial. Inside they saw glistening the pristine waters of that olden Neldaeiri fountain. While they'd long since drank their waterskins and refilled them again at the Fort's main well, Eirunn kept this phial.
“For certain, I, as a priest of Vayila, can sing the necessary prayers. Though... to clean the main altar so tarnished by the doom of centuries, I cannot imagine how we'd do that.” - Mumbled the clergyman, Doubt worming her way even into his hopeful voice.
“Even if we could do that...” - Dalnor canted his helmeted head, and nodded at the many walking dead - “Strong as we are, a single Four cannot survive against hundreds of Veil Breakers. To stave off their numbers we'd need an army!”
“They will scout that army coming and ambush it.” - Sighed the Ranger, and gestured with his thumb behind them - “We were able to sneak past their patrols only because it is just the four of us.”
The Sorceress nodded, eyes focused on the gently sparkling water inside the phial.
“I have little knowing of armies moving and warriors positioning on the field of battle. As a Sorceress, I was learned how to support said warriors, shield their thoughts from Flesh witches, and shatter any foul magicks hurled at them.”
She clasped the precious phial in her palms and said with a gentle smirk:
“However, when it comes to wielding Creation for the sake of the living, I have no equal among my peers.”
Tiny flickers of blueish light coursed through Eirunn's fingers. In but a few breaths, the crystal-blue water transmogrified into a thicker liquid, its color became indistinguishable than the flames which danced inside her eyes. The bubbles that floated inside pulsed and swirled around the phial in complete unison with her breaths. Whilst she weaved her magicks, the Sorceress made sure that her curst bracelet did not touch the small bottle.
“It is done.” - announced she, fatigue creeping into her voice - “I channeled most of my energies to further imbue the Neldaeir enchantment and transform it into waters of clensation.”
Eirunn gave the phial to Ainhart and rummaged inside her backpack, producing a wrap of six long candles, cast from dark-green wax.
“There is more than enough left in my blood to enkindle these and guide their healing light.”
“If we somehow managed to reach the ruined temple of Vayila, these candles would give us a big tactical advantage.” - Dalnor concluded, and, hand on the pommel of his sword, exclaimed:
“The hallowed light would not only heal our own wounds, but smite many Veil Breakers! Moreover, this scintillation shall counter whatever vile energies conquered that chamber, giving us more than enough time to cleanse the altar! Am I correct, Master Ainhart?”
“What you say is true, Knight. Though...” - agreed the clergyman, and placed the enchanted water in Gelduin's hand, asking him - “how could we even reach a place when neither of us knows its location?”
For a couple of breaths Gelduin studied the hallowed Neldaeiri water, stroke his beard, and replied with a sad smirk:
“Oh, I can definitely get us inside... mostly undetected.” - he gave the phial back to Eirunn and began drawing a rough map of Weistarr in the dust with a stick.
“My fellow Rangers and I were able to scout paths through the Ruined Lands, in preparation for this Quest. However, this was not all that we've successfully reconnoitered.”
The Dwarf pointed at one big, ruined tower at the furthermost eastern part of the wall and marked it on his map. Then, he made a series of arrows in the dust, the last of which ended at a circular building.
“Last year, a group of six Rangers led by me infiltrated the East part of Weistarr. Among all other things, we discovered the ruins of Vayila's temple. As you can see, it isn't that far away from the wall.”
Dalnor placed his hand on Gelduin's shoulder and asked him with a hushed voice:
“Might I inquire upon the fate of these Rangers, Master Dwarf?”
“A steep price was paid to acquire the intelligence which enabled our Quest...” - The Ranger replied, and his head turned at the ruined tower, bowed thrice.
“We uncovered a vast tunnel network, excavated by those who needn't breathe and never tire. It is what enabled the Thulm to move and provision their troops, without us being able to keep track of them, or disrupt their supply.” - While he talked, Gelduin drew a few curved lines in the dust, which represented said tunnel network.
“So this is why you spoke of guiding us to Zhul city with such confidence?!”
“Yes, Master Ainhart. My group observed troop movements inside the tunnels and we successfully exfiltrated them without being noticed. The filthy corpses got us over there, at the tower, and by pure stroke of luck! My brothers laid down their lives so I, the fastest runner among us, could dash back to the fort. The Ranger's uttermost duty is, no matter wounds, hunger, thirst, or pain, report of all the things he'd reconnoitered...”
“You are absolutely sure that these tunnels lead there?” - Inquired Eirunn, who made sure to memorize the rough map her companion drew.
“All Thulm Bone raiders live in Zhul city, which is also their main supply point. This is where the slaves they capture are sent to toil the fields, mine ore, or are turned into materials for weapons and armor. Those token few who managed to escape told us such horrid tales, I sometimes refused to believe my ears...”
The Elf shuddered, and not only because the chill winter wind blew snowflakes in his neck.
“Many a time did they avow to kill or enslave every last man, woman, and child.” - said he, and put his helmet on - “To transform Alkiorn into the plane they came from, the Thulm will poison everything with their sordid power.”
“We shan't let them.” - Calmly said Dalnor, and lowered his visor.
They remained silent for a couple of breaths, confident in their resolve to do what was needed for their Quest to succeed.
“Now is probably the best, and possibly the last moment when I can share my tale with you.” - Began the Knight, his voice muffled a bit by the helmet's visor.
“Like many peers of mine, I was quick to join the Iron Knights Order. As soon as I celebrated my ninth summer and passed the junior entry exam, I donned the neophyte's gambeson. My duties as a trainee cook helped me learn quicker and form many a bond. For five happy years, I lived, worked, and trained together with friends.”
“Though kitchen duty was grueling work, I and my fellow brothers were tough and best of all, motivated. Following a half-day of labor and 'twas time for our martial training. I chose swordsmanship, pugilism, and proficiency with the heaviest of armor. Ended up picking knife fighting as a backup, which included the art of throwing daggers too.”
“In the evenings, cleaned and well fed, shrouded by candlelight, we shoved our noses in olden books. The study of tactical formations, how armies are provisioned in the field, and stratagems most wise, was all we were allowed to do before bedtime.”
“Even with most of our time carefully rationed between labor, training, and study, we somehow managed to steal some for play. Loved ones, family, and friends often visited the Order's castle, therefore there was no shortages of playfellows to chose from. I was lucky enough to play hide and seek with a witty girl of my age.”
The Knight produced an intricately forged hand mirror from a leather box on his belt. Made from polished silver, this smallish, egg-shaped item easily fitted in the palm of his hand. The master who crafted this masterpiece made the outer shell from thin glow-steel and fitted the mirror with a lid for protection against the elements.
“It started as a friendship.” - the towering man said, and after a short, painful pause, continued - “Sianna was as crafty as they come and hid so well, that none but I could find her during our games. She also told me crazy stories, and made up a different one every time we met. Now that I remember, her smile was always the widest when she saw me.”
“When I turned sixteen summers, the Order gave me my first combat duty. A squire, I was to join a group of warriors and defend a fort beset by the Thulm. In between the battles I thought of Sianna and recollected all of her witty tales. These provided my young soul with great succor, despite the horrible slaughter I had to survive day after day.”
“It wasn't until I received my knight's sword and suit of armor, at the age of nineteen, when the siege was over and I could come back home. I fully expected her to be someone's betrothed, maybe even with child.”
“Did... did she wait for you?” - Mumbled the Sorceress, pulling her hood tighter to shield her face from the snow-carrying frosty gale.
“Sianna was waiting for me at the castle's barracks. When I arrived my friend recognized me even with my armor and helmet on. She had been writing me letters, but couldn't send them because our station was far and hard to reach. Instead of risking the life of a messenger she kept the letters... all three years worth of them.”
“I assume you talked for hours.” - Said smiling Gelduin - “When I return from the field, my Osnhild cannot sleep until she told me everything that happened while I was away.”
“We just stood there, silent, and grinning like fools. Our first proper kiss happened without me even thinking about it. Only then did Sianna talk... and oh, she had so much to tell me!”
“For a time, there was no communication and our parents assumed the worst. No matter what people said, Sianna believed that I was still alive. Our two families bonded because of her; while my father was away, she went to help my mom. Then, when her dad went to battle and her mother got sick, my parents returned the favor. Therefore, when I barged in my modest home Sianna in tow, I was met by two sets of happily sobbing parents.”
“Our marriage happened exactly on the next morrow. Since I have been in battle for years, the Order gave me plenty of leave from both castle duty and warfare. We would sit and plan the future for days, go on long walks around the city, or Sianna would read the letters she wrote me.”
“However, like all things in life, these wholesome days came to an end. I remember the day when she purchased that mirror. It was a gift for me and Sianna would place her image within its lid. When I went to war, I could open it and look upon her sweet face, remember her stalwart heart and loving soul.”
“At least that was her... plan.” - barely uttered the Knight, and armored hand twitching, gently opened the mirror.
His companions gazed upon the marvelous image of a young woman. Smiling, her full lips and healthy cheeks were red as the most beautiful roses. Eyes of golden-amber and waist long hair darker than Sister Night, pale skinned Sianna was indeed the fairest of Neldaeiri. The face which they were looking at, however, appeared tired, sad, and her beautiful eyes, full of tears.
So unnaturally vivid was her image that a heavy feeling of impending dread gripped their hearts.
“Something is very, very wrong.” - Said the Sorceress, and her squinted eyes became aglow with magick.
“We are not looking at some mere image, but her. This is she, Sianna, trapped in the mirror!” - Whispered terrified the Elf and with all haste made a hand sign for protection against evil.
“Master Ainhart, you were branded the Unchosen one, so some vile hag could prolong her undeserving existence. However, you stand strong here, armed and clad in armor. My brother, when the flesh witch is near, you shan't find your loyal friends wanting. Sweet Sianna was taken before my very eyes and I couldn't do anything to protect her. She is locked there, suffering and alone, while I am out here...”
“What devilry is this mirror?!” - Grumbled the Ranger, eyes wide and teeth gnashing.
“There are things of our own cosmos, who, just like the Old One our Sorceress felled, feed upon people's energies.” - Said the Knight with sepulchral voice and asked:
“Hath any of you heard about the dhampiir Queen Astella?”
“I have read of this Astella in one of my scrolls. The mightiest of all dhampiiri, it was written that she feasts upon the despair of lovers! The author states that she cannot be killed by steel, wood, or water... even magicks struggle to harm her.” - The Sorceress spat out the word dhampiir's name with the exact same feeling she talked about Shog-Khaigath.
“In temple, I was told a cautionary tale about evil mirrors stealing people.” - said the clergyman and added - “Which I assumed to be nothing more than superstition. After all, there were all kinds of mirrors everywhere, and nobody vanished.”
“There was another weird detail in that tale.” - Master Ainhart said, and took the mirror, one hand forming another sign of blessing, before he gave the curst item back to Dalnor - “Something about bathing the mirror in the blood of daemons could free those who were taken...”
“Not daemon, but the blood of one specific Thulm. Instead of outright freedom, more like a change of places.” - Clarified the Knight, who gently touched his wife's face, before closing the mirror, and stashing it in the leather box on his belt.
“But how could one even fight this Queen?!” - Shook his clenched fists Gelduin, whose eyes dashed between the Knight's sword, his own bow, Ainhart's axe, and Eirunn's spear.
“There was a tome, kept under lock and key in my Order's library. A similar tale was told in it, about a knight whose betrothed was taken, trapped in a silver mirror like this one by Astella. He'd discovered a way to defeat the dhampiir and free his beloved, but failed. He was slain in battle against the Thulm, and by none other than their Overlord at the time.”
“Even if we have the Overlord's blood, and you change places with your beloved, that dhampiir is still practically invulnerable.” - Eirunn stated with great sadness in her voice.
“What can a sword, even one masterfully forged from glow-steel do against her?” - The Elf canted his head, face adorned by one of his rare frowns.
“The sword by itself? Nothing. The heart of me who wields that sword, however, can cut her eldrich flesh. Remember the dagger I threw at that rotting mage?”
“Yes!” - exclaimed the vigorously nodding Sorceress - “But I assumed 'twas forged from some special steel, one that attracted magicks.”
“Maiden Sorceress, there is no such steel.” - Said the Elf, placed his hand on her shoulder, and as he looked in her eyes, shared the revelation he just had - “Brother Dalnor... Our Knight had infused this dagger and his sword with tiny bits of his very soul.”
“Out of love for our Elven, Arkan, and Dwarven brothers, the first Neldaeiri gave up their immortality. They couldn't suffer to live in the same world where others existed for a few mere decades while they would enjoy centuries. My ancestors wept, the sorrow of thousand friends and loved ones weighing heavily upon their souls.”
Dalnor's companions stood beside him, silent, their minds grappling with what he'd just told them.
“Before their hallowed gift of centuries, my sacrifice of years is nothing.”
“Teach me!” - the Elf stood up and grabbed Dalnor's hand - “At the core of my warrior being, I am a priest of Mother Vayila. Allow me to become Her helping hand and guardian of your beloved Sianna!”
“Master Dalnor,” - grumbled the Dwarf and stroke his beard, before he reached for the Knight's hand - “You will have to share this most wholesome knightly skill of yours with me too. After all, I, as a father, cannot stand idly by and watch another man being denied the joys of fatherhood.”
The Sorceress looked at her bronze-forged bracelet first. She touched the curst item, and her eyes closed shut, took a deep breath. A hesitant smile slowly blossomed upon her beautiful face, and Eirunn reached for the clergyman's hand.
“I thought this Quest would be my last. A monster of my own creation and a danger to all, there was no place for me left among the living. Yet, not only did I find Shog-Khaigath, but I crushed his essence into tiny, burning bits! I will learn the way of the Neldaeiri, for there is yet another olden monstrum in need of slaying.”
“The ancients had a saying.” - as he shook his companions' hands, Dalnor nearly choked on his next words - “At the hour of utmost need, that what you once giveth freely away, shall be returned to thee and twice over.”
“Four times over.” - Said with a chuckle the Elf and pointed at the ruined city.
“My companions, I think we have a temple to reclaim, and Veil Breakers to vanquish.”
“I say you are quite right, Master Ainhart!” - Agreed the Knight and nudged the Dwarf - “Lead the way, our most stealthy of reconnoiters.”
“Let us see how high on the mostly unnoticed scale can I make our approach.” - Snickered the Dwarf, before he assumed the lead.
“The balance of life and death will be restored.” - Calmly stated the Sorceress, and spear ready, followed after Gelduin.
A hail of snowflakes turned gray from corpse dust was desperately trying to dissuade the Four from their intent. Miasma, now one with the brownish fog, feverishly danced upon this chill gale, yet even she was unable to chip at their spirit. Whatever preparations the Four could make they already did. Led by their Ranger, they carefully skulked their way towards ominous Weistarr.
***
Dear reader, if you liked this story, you might enjoy my published work.
You are setting up an awesome battle. Can't wait. The mirror is so sad. To have her so close but so far away. ☹️
Loving this set-up chapter, and can't wait to see more of Weistarr.