The small group cut through the woods with haste, both eager and dreadful to finally rejoin with the abode of their childhood. Despite the gloominess that surrounded them, Talj, Aklas and Nyr learned to appreciate the quietness that offered them some respite. The inclination of the ground gently sped up their pace. The Crying Mountain was waving at them the whole way, encouraging them through their apprehension. Within it, the old fortress of the Spear awaited, ready to be reopened by its last members.
However, Aklas wasn't sure if they were ready for that reopening. The few days he spent on the back of Tempest, mindlessly petting the dark blue fur of the magical wolf, were filled with contradictory emotions. As usual, when emotions tangled together in a convoluted matter, he locked them away. His fear of facing the halls where his unburied parents raised him had no place to be in this operation. Why would he even be scared? The past is written and weaved in the grand tapestry of time, and it's not a man's grief that was going to change it.
The only choice he had was to push forward, to steel his heart and let bygones be bygones. He needed absolute focus right now, for the peace of all of Ylbunish was at stake, and his clouding heart was only making him more prone to falling down.
Whether he felt sorrow for the childhood that was robbed from him or helpless for his inability to claim it back will not change the course of history, and it will certainly not help them succeed in chasing the corruption away from the Roots. While it remained true that emotions were the anchor of the being, they were also thorns in the way of survival.
And yet… Aklas remembered how he smiled at his brother, when he woke up from his coma in Anicla's farm. How he felt a new strength sprouting within him as he assured that he'd follow Talj in his decisions instead of impeding them. In that instant, a newfound strength sprouted within him. And that strength came from hope. Hope for a better future, no matter how senseless it seemed, and the wish to fight to achieve it.
Hope. An emotion Aklas hadn't felt in a long while. Or did he always feel it and he simply ignored it? When Talj had announced that the Darkness was filling the continent's magical flow with its cyanide, his reasoning had been simple: Inaction ensures destruction, but to act meant an uncertain chance to prevail. However, the month spent with his brother slowly gave way for his locked up feelings to sprout again.
At first, he didn't follow this road because he believed they could walk it through, but out of necessity. Two undertrained Spearmen against the Five Lands and the Darkness? Who would believe in their victory?
And yet, seeing all they had faced so far, Aklas started slowly to believe that they may be able to win the wrestle. Not just freeing the Roots, but actually preventing the Darkness's dominion from spreading across their continent. He slowly began thinking that, with some wild twist, they may be able to bring about success.
And Aklas hated that feeling, because it came with a great sense of fear. Fear that the expectations his mind was now imposing were not going to be met, fear that the anticipations he now had were for nothing, fear that their struggles amounted to naught.
And fear was an emotion that called about death. It was easy to manipulate, simple to predict. It drives away discipline and makes you a slave to its wishes, turning you blind to anything beyond it.
Such was the mindset he was taught, and its veracity is proven by the fact that it is precisely that line of thinking that allowed him to survive all those years. If he had given in to his loneliness and terror, and wept every day under the leaves as his stomach revolted and his heart ached, it would have made him weak. Too sensitive to pain, too weak to continue.
But… Why did he suddenly doubt it? Why all of a sudden was he able to smile -even if just slightly- a bit more?
Aklas sighed. Those questions were somehow more tiring than their journey and he didn't wish to waste his strengths on them. His attention dragged to Talj, mounted on Bolt's back, asking with an uncertain tone:
"I know it's about the hundredth time I ask but are we sure we're not lost?"
"And I know it's about the hundredth time I answer but no, we have not deviated from our path, young one." Nyr replied, sitting atop his shoulder. "I know the sky is hard to find but as you can see, the Rise is drawing closer by the day."
When they emerged from the Mist, they were directly aligned with the southwest flank of the Crying Mountain, whereas the gates that led to its heart and to the Sheath were carved in its southeast face. And so, with Nyr's guidance, the small group drew an arc through the forest to directly meet with their destination.
"You seem deep in thoughts." Talj said to Aklas. "Is something bothering you?"
"Just putting order in my mind, is all." The hunter replied.
He could only imagine what the blacksmith was thinking. The attack on the Spear seemed to have marked him more than Aklas, and the wound inflicted by whatever horror he saw in these very woods was still pulsing in his heart. He preferred not to burden Talj any further.
It is ironically funny how this forest where we trained, laughed and grew up together is the home for both merry and horrifying memories for us. Aklas mused.
"How about you?" The archer asked after a minute of silence.
"I was simply wondering, why doesn't this forest have a name?" Talj replied. "When we were children everyone referred to it simply as 'the forest.' Was it never given a proper name?"
"I suppose you could call it a force of habit." Nyr replied. "For as long as I can remember, the Spear never gave these woods an appellation."
"Why is that?" Talj inquired.
"There is no particular reason." His mentor answered. "The Spear was founded before the different landmarks of Ylbunish received their names. I believe that, in its debut, it was too busy to think about officializing maps. People merely called it the forest or the woods and the habit subsisted through time."
"Mhm." Talj acquiesced, shrouding his thoughts with his silence.
Without a warning, the terrain around them shifted. Broken trees laid on the ground, the smell of the scent of ash and rot grew stronger, cracks snaked through the trunks and the rocks. The ground folded irregularly at random intervals, rising and breaking as if a great force shattered it beyond repair. Trunks bent, some even broke, uglying the magnificent trees they used to be. It was as if a rain of explosions descended upon the place. And the tremendous amount of bones that piled on the ashes randomly, scattered through the woods like echoes evinced that they entered the field where the Spear opposed the Darkness in that fateful battle.
Calling it a battle is hardly fair. Aklas thought. Massacre would be a more appropriate term.
Talj dismounted his wolf, and walked towards a small gap beneath a tree. The blacksmith leaned down on one knee, eyeing intensely something on the ground. Tilting his head, Aklas got off his mount too and walked besides Talj. Understanding slowly dawned on him as he saw what his brother was looking at: A skeleton, undergoing its decomposition, still wearing some bits of rusted armour on him. A Spearman that died during the attack. Aklas imagined how he would be feeling, seeing the results of a war he had left raging seven years ago, blaming himself partly for its outcome despite knowing there wasn't anything he could have done to prevent it.
"In the shadows we are born, in the shadows we shall die. No witnesses of my valor but my tomb and the sky." Talj said before rising up.
The hunter recognized the words. They were from an old poem that described the life of a Spearman. A life spent defending the light of Ylbunish, while living in the shadows. Aklas supportively put his hand on Talj's shoulder without saying a word, sharing the quiet grief for the friends they couldn't protect.
A silent tear trailed on the blacksmith's cheek. Bolt rubbed his head on his master's hand, leaving out a weak weep.
"I testify of your valor, warrior." He said. "Know that your honor will be avenged. Rest well."
Nyr gave Aklas a furtively surprised glance. Talj's usual wittiness seemed to have completely left him at that moment, replaced with a solemn feeling of militancy and determination. The young blacksmith turned away from the scene and said sharply:
"Let's go. The gates are close."
As Aklas followed his brother, his eyes darted to the sky. The Rise was so close that it seemed to be protectively looking down on them, encouraging their steps through the vestiges of a past that did not wish to let go. The hunter was thankful for that sight that confirmed they were drawing closer to their goal. If it wasn't for the absence of leaves on the branches, they would have probably advanced blindly, as the forest was too dense and entrapped their sight.
The small group continued their road on foot, Talj's summons closely behind them. They trekked quietly through the mutilated terrain, taking in slowly the footprint of the chaos they never forgot. The afternoon was nearing its end when alas, the final line of trees drew itself.
The group suddenly stopped. Aklas felt his heart skip a beat. His breath grew hastier as he suppressed a gulp. Bewilderment, apprehension, relief, doubt, excitement, awe… A tempest of feelings, good and bad, ravaged his heart and stunned him on his feet. He didn't need to look at Talj to know that his brother was in a similar state.
Beyond the trees, a large field opened up, offering them a reprieve from the forest's oppression they barely sensed. And at the end of the field, the Crying Mountain surged from the ground, like a giant that rooted itself deep in the bedrock.
The mountain's flank was composed of a mysterious stone. It wore a very dark shade of blue, almost making it black, and it held a very unique property: No matter how much power one applied to it, it would never even crack. No chisel, no strike and certainly no magic can reshape it.
Thus, the Crying Mountain's flank was devoid of cracks, deformations or any sort of external revamps. Except for one, and they were looking straight at it.
The closed gates to the Sheath, dug and chiseled directly through the mountainside, drawing a trapezoid shape on the mountainside, confining the two gigantic doors that remained sealed for seven years, crowned by a triangular shape that completed structure's upper edge, like the tip of a spear.
"There it is…" Nyr said, his voice filled with relief. "The gateway that's been forsaken is about to be reopened."
Aklas thought to himself for a moment. Only now has he realized the emotional trial that his mentor must have been through all this time, which he had to hide to give a pillar of strength for the two Spearmen. He's been the Spear's Councilor for thousands of years, and in less than a decade he had to see his life's endeavor crumble and decay as the Darkness used the order's fall as a podium for its thrive.
The Night Eagle's guiding voice must have concealed a tremendous amount of sorrow through their journey, leading the two final Spearmen alive through a seemingly losing battle.
Thank you, Nyr. Aklas wanted to say, but he could not bring the words to life. Instead, it was Talj who answered the mystical bird:
"The Forsaken Gate… It has a nice ring to it despite the ominous undertone."
"Let us keep moving." Nyr instructed. "Best not linger just a few minutes away from our destination."
The three companions, followed by their oversized wolves, crossed the field lightly, the gates drawing their sight like a magnet, trying to dig through the cobblestone with their eyes to see what laid beyond it. When they arrived at its doorstep, Talj let out an impressed whistle.
"Is it me or did it grow bigger when we got closer?" He asked.
"Perspective isn't a myth, brother." Aklas quipped.
"I know! It just looks way more impressive up close. I've never seen the gates sealed before."
Aklas nodded, understanding Talj's awe. To think that Torm hid this immense pile of rocks from the entirety of Ylbunish for thousands of years is an achievement that's beyond impressive. Without further wait, he called for his magical storage and called the Chisel out of it.
"So, what do I do?" He asked Nyr.
"Saying please usually works." Talj joked.
Aklas ignored him, waiting for his mentor's answer. Nyr hopped from the blacksmith's shoulder to the hunter's arm before closing his eyes, digging through his memories in search of the answer.
"I believe you merely have to infuse your magic into the Chisel." He instructed. "You'll feel the spell calling to you. Reach for it and hit the gates right where they split with the tip."
The hunter nodded and obliged. He focused his magical essence through his arms and imbedded it to the Chisel. The azure stone started to glow, greedily taking in the energy Aklas sent it. Slowly, he started feeling it. The spell enchained within the stone's very essence. His magic suddenly linked with it, and before he knew it the spell was ready, waiting for it to be cast. The Chisel was now shining bright and even vibrated in Aklas's hand.
Without thinking, he clashed the artifact's tip with the hard cold stone. He felt an immense power wash over him and embody the doorway and then…. Nothing. The light dimmed, the Chisel quieted. The doors didn't even budge.
Huh… That felt weird… It was as if… Nevermind. Aklas eyed the Chisel weirdly, wondering if he only imagined the sensation.
"Did you do something wrong?" Talj asked.
For an answer, the line that marked the separation between the two doors lit up. The gates suddenly shook, grunting into life. The doorway yawned. The portal steadily opened, revealing slowly the entrance to the Sheath. The ground shook in sync with the trio's anticipation.
The doors halted suddenly, spread away invitingly. Aklas held his breath. Before him, a majestic hallway stretched on, its walls decorated with archways where old tapestries hung. On the ground rested a long carpet marked with burns. In its center, a large circle ornated with runes was drawn. The circle had five small branches, each one connected to a sigil that represented a kingdom of the Five Lands. The hallway ended in a massive portal that mirrored the one that connected it to the outside, except that that one didn't have doors that needed to be opened.
Talj was the first to move. He took an uncertain step forward, as if making sure that this wasn't a dream. He then slowly turned back to face Aklas, a strange expression on his face. Talj then smiled. Weakly at first, before giving out a full beaming grin that was followed by laughter. The blacksmith was full heartedly laughing and holding his ribs, at the entrance of the Sheath. Suddenly, Nyr and Aklas joined him. The three friends laughed to their hearts' content, sharing this moment of accomplishment with a sincere sense of joy that lifted the weight from their burdened shoulders.
They had done it, they had opened the gates to the Sheath. They were home again.
When the group's hilarity calmed down, Talj wiped a tear off his eye before telling Aklas:
"Race you to the end of the corridor?"
"Is this seriously the first thing you ask after getting here?" Aklas rolled his eyes. "Our job isn't over yet, you know."
"Oh come on!" Talj gave his brother a small hit with his elbow. "Try to be a bit more jovial and celebrate! We're the first ones to open these gates since… Ergh… Very long! Probably."
"He's right." Nyr added. "The last time the Sheath's gates were closed was during the great thunderstorm that came down from the Heixin mountains, one thousand seven hundred and ninety four years ago."
"See?" Talj shot his brother a smug. "We're basically history now! Well if someone ever remembers us that is." He added while rubbing his hair.
"You mean I am history." Aklas chuckled. "I don't remember you doing much when I opened the portal."
"How dare you!" Talj feigned an offended tone. "Birdie and I were providing emotional support!"
"As much as I enjoy this quid pro quo between you two, we still have one final objective in our list to check." Nyr interrupted them.
The trio engaged in the hall, their eyes basking in the memories that played before them, when it was buzzing with activity as Spearmen would come in and out of the Sheath. Aklas gazed at the tapestries that decorated the large room. They were artistic representations of the Spear's greatest points in history: The final battle between Torm and Koronus, the first Spearmen's oaths, Torm's funerals…
"Memories, too dear to be lost." Nyr commented. "The passage of time is impartial, it floods the past to build the present. We cannot bring every memory aboard the arch, so we choose which echo we wish to preserve, and which we should forget…"
After a few minutes of slow walking, the Spearmen reached the end of the corridor. The doorless portal welcomed them as they crossed it. Beyond it, the room that awaited them made them feel like they were walking in a completely different world.
"After seven years… This place still amazes me." Talj said with awe.
Calling it a room would be a criminal understatement. No, it was rather a large cylindrical open space scooped directly within the Crying Mountain. As if someone dug through hundreds of layers of rocks with a gigantic drill. In its center stood a platform held by a singular pillar, connected to the hallway that led outside the Sheath with a bridge on which the two brothers were standing. From that platform, five sets of stairs spread in different directions. Some went up, down, left or right. Those stairs will then meet with small platforms that were connected with even more stairs, sprouting from them in random directions throughout the giant room. Those stairwells would link with other platforms, repeating the loop for a few times before the last set of stairs connected with the hundreds of tunnels and corridors dug through the room's walls, leading the various areas of the Sheath.
Clap… Clap…
Aklas flinched, as the sharp noise loudly echoed within the mountain. It sounded like someone was clapping their hands in a deliberately slow motion.
Clap… Clap…
The two brothers looked at each other bemusedly. If both of them were standing still, where did the sound come from?
Clap… Clap…
Bolt and Tempest suddenly growled with animosity, their hostile glares turned towards the hallway where they just emerged from. Aklas frowned before looking back, unsure as to what to expect, only to find… Nothing.
Clap… Clap…
There! The sound came from right in front of them! Yet all they saw was the empty corridor they'd traversed just a minute earlier.
Clap… Clap.
Right when he was about to question if his imagination was playing a trick on him, the hunter's heart skipped a beat. A suffocating presence revealed itself, its magical essence greater than anything he could have ever imagined. It overwhelmed their senses, anchoring them in their place and momentarily stunning them. It was a power beyond anything the two Spearmen had ever faced. Within it, Aklas recognized the characteristic corruption of Dark Magic, causing a sickening pulse in the mystical flow that swayed around them. The magical flow that overtook them wasn't just crushing, it was too raw, too ancient. Like a bucket of water that came directly from its underground source. As if it was…
Primordial! Aklas realized.
Out of nowhere, the figure of a young looking man materialized at the room's threshold, right in front of the Spearmen. His dark hair was long and combed, and he a neatly ordained attire. A large dark cloak with a hood and beneath it a black tunique with crimson traces that resembled a strange mix between a robe and a traveling vest. His boots were brown with dirt, indicating that he's been on the road for a long time already.
Instinctively, the brothers summoned their weapons, readying themselves for a clash. Aklas noticed that the grip on his bow
The man did not seem bothered by the extreme unease his apparition caused. He gave Talj and Aklas a polite smile before opening his arms and declaring solemnly:
"I must thank you for generously inviting me into your abode!"
The two brothers only gave him a look of disbelief. The situation made no sense to them. Did this person with a phenomenal amount of magic really just appear out of nowhere inside the Sheath and pretend that he was invited!?
"Truly! I appreciate you for leaving the door open!" The stranger continued in a jovial tone. "You're making it so convenient for me! I ought to thank-"
"Alright captain dramatic." Talj interrupted him. "You have ten seconds to tell us who you are and how are you here before I kick your arse back where you came from."
"Ah, right!" The man chuckled. "It seems that in my excitement, I omitted to properly introduce myself. How impolite of me. Allow me to present myself, I am-"
"Kroll The Deceiver." Nyr spat with venom in his voice.
The words rang in Aklas's ears like a mosquito, its buzzing bringing him a great sense of dread.
Kroll!? As in General Kroll!? The High Lord of the Darkness we talked about a few days ago!?
Kroll raised his eyebrows and let out a sigh, his smile unwavering from his face.
"Now then, Nyr, that was so uncalled for." Kroll shook his head. "It is rude to interrupt a man while he presents himself. And besides, calling me the Deceiver is extremely undermining. I have acquired much better titles during the years, you know? The Unlocker, The First High Lord… And my personal favorite: The Savant. Such a compelling name! Devoid of any dramatic appeal and yet holding a power so grand!"
Aklas and Talj exchanged a befuddled look. Seeing one of five High Lords at the Sheath's entrance speaking about his favorite titles made them wonder if they weren't trapped in a collective dream -or nightmare that is.
"How are you here!?" Nyr shouted. "The Mist should have prevented you from following us!"
"Following us..?" Talj frowned. "Wait! The rider from the Shogre Swamps, that was him!?"
"Oh please Nyr, can't you relax a bit?" Kroll said in an easy tone. "Getting directly down to business is boring and stressful. Seven thousand should have taught you that, old friend."
Kroll gazed around him with a circular motion, eyeing his surroundings with a fascinated face.
"I must say, I have spent half a dozen millennia wondering what this Sheath that Torm had built looked like. Establishing a base around the Confluence, truly clever. My profoundest gratitude for sating my curiosity."
"Glad you enjoy the store, but right now we're about to close." Talj darkly said. "So kindly, get lost, old man."
"Ah, Talj Horsh." Kroll turned to face him. "The Hammer! A blacksmith worthy of respect! A child running away from his past, but too afraid to face his future."
"Don't pretend you know me." Talj retorted.
"Oh, but I do know you." Kroll smiled. "The orphan adopted by Shaja after being abandoned by his parents, trained to become a defender of Ylbunish from his youngest age before seeing his illusion of a family burn away. Who do you think gave your Dali friend the order of capturing you? Albeit I did not expect her to figure out that the order came from the Darkness, and not the Council."
Aklas sensed his brother boiling near him. Kroll, feigning ignorance, continued:
"Despite veiling your true name under an alias, your reputation precedes you. The white-haired blacksmith who could make weapons worthy of the Dali Generals themselves, rumored to be seen sometimes traveling across the east side of Ylbunish despite his young age. What a mysterious character. Despite forging weapons such as blades that can absorb fire like a sponge… No name, no past, no family…"
Aklas could see the hatred in Talj's eyes. Kroll spoke of him like he was an open book.
"How?" One word is all the blacksmith could manage to utter.
"How?" Kroll raised an eyebrow before snorting. "Seriously? You don't know? Oh look at your face you're truly oblivious."
Kroll nodded towards the staff in Talj's hands.
"My… Spear?"
"Your spear is a token of the past." Kroll explained monotonously, like a professor lecturing his student. "Your inability to move on has betrayed you, child. You made your weapon in the same image of the Spear's sigil. A lance with a dark staff, representing the shadows where you live. And a shining blade, symbolizing the light you bring upon this world. This symbol is unknown to the people, true. But to the Darkness? Ohoho… We do not simply know that symbol. We loath it."
Nyr flew from Bolt's back to Aklas's shoulder and whispered to his ear:
"Keep him talking."
"Why, yes!" Kroll exclaimed enthusiastically. "Keep me talking! For if you believe that time is on your side, then reconsider! The Roots of Ramol have fallen! And soon, all of the Darkness's forces will converge in its final target!"
"No…" Talj whispered.
"You guessed it." Kroll clapped with his hands. "Your beloved Enyo is soon going to be under the mercy of the Darkness. Your friends, your home, your beloved… What was her name again? Xara?"
Without a warning, the room lit up in a blinding light. With a rageful cry, Talj shot a powerful lightning bolt at Kroll.
"No!" Nyr snapped. "He isn't a foe we can fight!"
After a few seconds, the roaring sound of the thunder died. Obscurity filled the room again and, to the Spearmen's horror, Kroll was standing exactly where he'd been before Talj's attack.
Completely intact.
"Well that was… Underwhelming." The High Lord said, removing the dust from his clothes. "Alright then, I suppose we should get started then. However, seeing how much of a help you're about to be for the Darkness I will allow three questions -one for each- before I dispose of you and head to the Confluence."
The trio exchanged a look.
So his target is the Confluence.
"What a generous offer." Talj sarcastically said.
"Well unanswered curiosity is a crime by my standards, so I thought I'd abide by them before killing you. Of course, if you're that eager to die, we can move directly to the 'dispose of you' part if you wish."
The three friends looked at each other. Kroll's offer seemed to come from arrogance rather than pity, but it offered them a moment to think of a plan.
"How did you follow us?" Nyr was the first to ask.
"I'm not sure I understand the depth of your question, Nyr." Kroll replied. "Do you mean to ask 'How did you follow us through the Mist' or 'How did you follow us unnoticed'. Oh, you know what? For old times' sake, I shall be generous and answer both."
Old times' sake? Aklas wondered.
"The answer to the latter is quite simple really." Kroll said. "Have a look."
Kroll brought his hood to his face and instantly vanished. His magical presence suddenly dissipated from the room. A second later, the Dark Mage's corrupted power filled the air again as he appeared before them, his hands still on his cloak's hood.
"I owe this gift from an old friend of ours." The High Lord said. "I believe you remember the Great Smith? Such wise fella. The only downside is that, when my hood is on it prevents me from using my own magic. I believe the idea is to avoid accidental leakage that may betray my position, but it can be a bit hindering at times. Anywho, for the Mist, the answer is even simpler: I overcame the spell."
"What?" Nyr asked.
"You heard me." Kroll smiled. "Torm was powerful, very powerful. But remember, I was born and raised in the Primordium. I was the only mage apart from Koronus who could stand up to him. I don't claim I could win against Torm in a fight, but that doesn't stop me from overpowering his weakest spells."
"Weakest spells!?" Talj's voice was filled with incredulity.
"Oh please. You consider that a feat? You should have been there during the Collapse. Albeit I will admit that the Mist put up a good fight. It did take me a day or two to recover fully from it. Now then, master weaponsmith, what is your question?"
Talj squinted his eyes, weighing his next words.
"What was the plan exactly once you found me? I still don't get it. Arrest me and then… What? Execute me? Deliver me to the Darkness?"
"Now that's a tale worth telling!" Kroll's voice lightened up. "Although, since time isn't in your favor I shall try to make it short for your sake. About a year ago, when Her Majesty heard of survivors from the attack, a great fear shook her. None but me noticed it. Maybe Slein did too, I never know what's brewing in that brain of his."
Kroll frowned, seemingly deep in thoughts before smiling again.
"Ah, but let's not get sidetracked. Naturally, I feigned ignorance. I knew that her fear was unfounded, which is why I never told her about the survivors."
"The survivors..?"
"Oh, you didn't know?" Kroll arched an eyebrow. "Then it seems I made a slight miscalculation in my schemes. Not that it matters, who doesn't overestimate their foes from time to time? Yes, Horsh, there are other survivors. I would know, I was the one who led the attack on this very hall. Although I'll admit, Shaja was one witty tactician. I never could set foot inside the mountain before he sealed it. I was eager to explore this Sheath of yours when my puppets turned off the mountain's magical defenses. What a shame… Ah, I'm getting sidetracked again. After the attack, I extracted Shaja's memories in search of anything useful for the Darkness. As you naturally know, the Spear's knowledge holds quite the significance.
"When analyzing the old man's memories, I was surprised to see that, in the final hours of the battle, he named this fella on your right chief of the Spear and gave him the Chisel before bidding him to flee. A sly fox that Shaja, sealing the Rise and handing the key to a child. Well then, as the Darkness continued its operations, I secretly sought out that child -or his body to be precise, as I never believed in his survival. My searches led me to rumors of a mysterious spirit and his blue eagle pet, watching over the woods and bringing bane to monsters and brigands. Pff, what silly stories am I right?
"Being the genius that I am, I easily concluded that the rumors were about Nyr and the mysterious archer child who has been entrusted with the Chisel. And so, I tried to seek him out myself. However, it was to no avail. Somehow, I never managed to come close to even finding your whereabouts. Hats off to your concealing skills, Aklas."
Aklas took in the compliment without a word, waiting for Kroll to finish his story.
"Anyways,when Slein announced that there was a Spearman alive on Enyo, I was rejoiced. Finally! A bait I could flaunt to lure the guardian of the Chisel! Alas, Her Majesty was against my idea. She wished to bring you down with all means necessary. Going as far as sending the Devourer at your tail. Her fear of the power you represent irrationally haunts her. I try to be understanding since she's still so young, but still! At seven thousand years old, you should know better than believing a fake prophecy!"
The word prophecy had an instantaneous reaction out of Aklas and Talj. Unable to contain himself, the blacksmith blurted out:
"What do you mean fake prophecy!?"
"Now, now." Kroll shook his head. "Only one question each, and you've already spent your own. After many deliberations, reason got to her. My queen understood that seizing the Confluence would benefit us greatly, and allowed me to pursue my plan. Naturally, she insisted that you should be put on a leash or killed in case the slightest of matters go wrong, but her worries were in vain. Honestly, what did she expect? For a child to best the most powerful of the five High Lords? Heh, what a jest. And so, I allowed you to escape. Yes, allowed you. I was in Rolmea when you leaped off the Tower like a bird learning to fly. I could have easily stopped you, but I didn't. I needed you free, I needed you to lure out the other Spearmen. And lo! Out of all the batch! You landed on the golden egg! The one with the Chisel came to you! Unfortunately, I did not receive the merry news or I'd have come and fetched the Chisel personally. All I heard is that you've found a traveling companion to aid you in your fugitive activities. And when Klaus reported to me that your friend was, in fact, the guardian of the Chisel, I took matters into my own hands… And the rest you already know. Nyr found me in the marshes, I followed you and here we are! Which reminds me, I must also thank you for giving me the location of your hideout."
"What..?" Talj frowned. "Didn't you know that already? You said you led the attack on us!"
"Hmm? Oh, no." Kroll replied. "The matter is far more complex than that. I would give you an answer but, again, your one question is up. And voila, my friends! Thus ends my tale about my seek for the final Spearmen!"
Kroll finished his sentence by giving the Spearmen an expectant look.
"Hmm? No applause? And I was believing that you were an entertaining crowd." Kroll sighed. "Alright then, how about you?" He added, looking at Aklas.
The hunter has been silent during the entire conversation, analyzing Kroll's words while looking for a way out of this tricky situation. He was tempted to ask about the prophecy like Talj, but he decided to settle with the most important information.
"What is the Darkness's plan?" Aklas spoke up for the first time since Kroll's appearance.
"Now that's a deliberately vague question." Kroll said disappointedly. "I could easily answer you by 'To take over Ylbunish' or 'To take back what's rightfully ours' and move on. Try again, but with more precision."
Rightfully theirs..?
Aklas stayed silent for a dozen of seconds before opting for another question:
"What do you wish to achieve with the Confluence?"
"Really?" Kroll looked even more disappointed. "The answer isn't obvious to you? Why do the pragmatic ones ask the most stupid questions."
The High Lord sighed and shook his head.
"Our initial plan was to seize control over the Roots." He explained. "The means were simple in theory, but a pain to bring about. We had to spend decades infiltrating the Five Lands, spreading the Darkness's influence throughout Ylbunish, opening Rifts through the continent and slowly letting our own magical flow converge with your own. A painfully slow process that would only allow us to put our strings on Ylbunish's magical flow, but not to control them. Not without much more effort. If I were to use an allegory, the continent is a small room lit up by a torch, and the Roots are the light and warmth emanating from the fire whereas the Confluence is the torch itself. Controlling the lighting would require me to set up glasses and mirrors which would be needlessly tiring. However, if I had my hands on the torch… The glow of the room will be mine to rule over. Every mage of Ylbunish will be under our influence, the kings' Great Oaths will be under our control, the Portals towards the light will obey our will… Every parcel of magic that left a footprint on the Five Lands will heed the Darkness."
Aklas took in Kroll's words with a growing unsettlement. He suddenly became all too aware about their situation. If the Darkness reached the Confluence, they won't just be able to send entire armies through Ylbunish and influence the continent, but they'll have total control of every thread of magic that weaved it together!
And we just led one of its most powerful assets directly to it! Aklas cursed internally.
"Now then." Kroll clasped his hand. "I believe that our little chit-chat has stretched on long enough. Any last words?"
Aklas and Talj exchanged a strange look. Somehow, despite their fear, they felt steady. They knew that this was a fight they couldn't win -they were, in fact, convinced that they'd lose- and yet their determination was now stronger than ever. They poured all their energy into their journey, pushing forward as far as they could despite the impending doom, and that got them further than they expected. Death chased them, and yet they were faster. They reached the Rise, they've opened the Sheath. It may have caught up to them now, but that didn't mean they wouldn't teem all their strengths into cheating it again.
Just like their journey, they were not ready for this challenge. And yet they did not care. They were going to honor their struggle, and honor the continent they were fighting for.
Talk suddenly smiled at his brother.
"You guys are thinking what I'm thinking?" He asked.
"Don't burn yourself this time." Aklas smiled back.
"Four seconds should suffice to gain some ground." Nyr added.
Kroll tilted his head in confusion before suddenly widening his stare, realizing too late what the trio was talking about.
The room lit up as Talj activated Ghost Burst. Aklas barely caught a glimpse of Kroll's enraged face before the spell carried him away at vertiginous pace. Just like in Kaelnah, Nyr guided the spell's trajectory towards one of the lower tunnels of the grand room. There, Talj deactivated his spell and the two brothers started running after a rapidly flying Nyr.
"What's the plan, Birdie?" The blacksmith asked.
"We cannot win that fight!" The eagle replied. "But with some luck, we might be able to defeat him!"
"How!?" Aklas shouted, running like his life depended on it -and in a way, it did.
"The Sheath's magical defenses!" Nyr replied. "They are especially designed to deter Dark Magic! If we manage to activate them before he catches up to us, we may be able to tip the scale in our favor!"
"How long will it take before we reach and activate them!?" Talj asked.
"A couple minutes, at least!" Nyr replied.
"And how long do you think he needs to best us in combat?" The hunter demanded.
"Uhm… A couple seconds, at best!" His mentor replied shamelessly.
"So we're holding on to mad hope!" Talj snorted. "Just a regular Tuesday then!"
After a minute of running, the trio could suddenly feel Kroll's presence, catching up to them.
"We're not gonna make it!" Aklas shouted.
"Can't you collapse the roof!?" Talj asked.
"We're in a mountain, Talj!" Nyr replied. "We may cause a-"
"Counter argument: We're about to die!" Talj interrupted him.
Aklas turned and equipped two Impulse arrows and shot them at the ceiling. The two projectiles violently burst, causing a massive detonation through the tunnel. Piles of rocks rumbled before falling on the ground. The Spearmen doubled their efforts to flee the crashing stones.
"Fly, you two!" Nyr urged.
"Says the bird!" Talj shot back.
As the trio dodged the projectiles best they could, Aklas felt the familiar sensation of his brother casting a spell. Suddenly, a flash passed by Aklas and traversed the avalanche back towards the passage's entrance.
To Aklas's horror, he realized that Talj used Ghost Burst to double back on their ways.
"Talj!?" The hunter shouted. "What are you doing!?"
"Go!" Talj replied, already disappearing behind the cascade of rocks. "I'll make sure he doesn't get past this point!"
"No… NO NO NO!" Aklas tried to fall back but the corridor was now filled with stones.
"Go! Make sure you finish the mission!" Talj's voice reached out to him.
Aklas clenched his fist, barely suppressing his tears. What was done is done. Talj was ready to buy them even if just a minute with his life.
"You better not die you fool!" Aklas shouted, right before the final stones fell. "For me! For your Xara! For everyone! You hear me!? You better stay alive!"
"Aklas, we have to go!" Nyr pressed.
With furious steps, Aklas followed his mentor, both fueled with a rabid feeling of despair.
𖤓─────✧✦✧─────𖤓
Kroll stopped. He interrupted his levitation spell and fell swiftly on the ground. The tunnel suddenly seemed to roar and tremble.
They're caving in. He realized.
To his surprise, he felt a single magical presence in front of him. Kroll recognized it. It belonged to the blacksmith.
A noble act of sacrifice… How boringly predictable.
Kroll walked deliberately slowly through the tunnel, letting each step echo throughout its walls.
Tak… Tak… Tak…
Until finally, he was face to face with him.
The white haired warrior, spear in hand, thunderbolts zapping from his body and his two wolves at his side, ready for his final stand.
"I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be the sacrificial type." Kroll said. "You know, since you have people to return to and all that twaddle."
The High Lord expected many answers to his statement. Anger, irritation, fear… But Talj's words were so unpredictable his usual polite mask faltered:
"We've no care for glory.
None shall heed our story.
A gripless spear that smiths our foes through the night."
Those were the three last lines of the Spearman's Oath, and for some reason hearing them made Kroll's blood steam with rage.
"Bring it on, you bastard!" Talj screamed before jumping into battle.