@TheAverageFan
@William099
So rather off-topic here, but:
I have arrived at the conclusion that I need to write one more fan fiction before Code 4114. I am, unfortunately, running out of ideas. I have some, but I haven't written them for a reason, so I think my best bet would be something entirely new.
On that note... what would you guys say to a tale set in Icaria, home of the dragons? Things are far from set in stone - the idea occurred to me just today - but it's the best setting I have so far, and I wanted to know what you think before proceeding. It would probably include - though not feature - Vervalsing, from my LBV series (no previous reading of said series required).
~TGRF.
Here are the chapters for Tuesday and today:
Book 3 - Chapter Two
Joy in the Dark Shadows
Spoiler Alert!
The smell was terrible. Raelin tried to shift her position, turning her head to escape the fumes, but the stench only intensified. She genuinely believed Sullivan had been sorry. He had thought – and still did, for all she knew – that she would be treated well during her time as a prisoner. How little he knew of Utgar.
The vampires had delivered her to a castle deep within the Volcarren, just as Sullivan had said they would. They had then stuffed her into a cramped cell with at least thirty other prisoners. Raelin had been there ever since. Time had faded away in the constant dark of the dungeon, but Raelin knew she had been there for more than the prophesied two months. It felt like more than three. Was the war over? Would she ever be released?
Metal scraped against stone, and the massively thick cell door was creaked open. An orc stepped in.
There was no light in the dungeon, and the only light in the hall beyond the door was a guttering torch. That feeble flicker now flooded the cell, and Raelin felt her stomach tighten as she saw again the conditions that surrounded her.
The dungeon was small; likely designed for only one person with plenty of room to walk. Over thirty prisoners were packed into the tiny space, most jammed up against the hard unforgiving wall. The situation was made even worse by the fact that over half of them were kyrie, their wings taking up extra room. Since they were in the Volcarren, heat radiated from the stones, washing over the prisoners without relief, drenching them in sweat. Since Raelin had arrived, many of the kyrie had died of dehydration.
After the first few deaths, the orcs had made sure the prisoners had plenty of water, but it was always green with slime, and tasted of mold. The food was no better: the bread they ate was either stale or crawling with worms.
There was no air. Nothing was sanitary. Raelin had been breathing air choked with sweat, blood, heat, and mold for the entire time she had been down here. And there was no sign that the confinement would ever end. Only that it would get worse.
The orc stepped into the dungeon, and as one, the mass of prisoners stumbled away from him. Raelin was among them. She knew, along with everyone else, what happened to those that were chosen.
The orc marched forward, pointing at random prisoners. More orcs came through the door, peeled the selected prisoners from their neighbors, and shuffled them out the door. Finally, the orc stopped in front of Raelin.
Unlike the rest of the prisoners, Raelin did not try to make herself as small as possible. She stood as best she could in her starved state, and stared the orc full in the face, glaring. The orc merely leered at her.
“Chok ah, Raelin. You only make your life harder.” He pushed her to the ground hard, and moved on. Two more prisoners were selected, marched out through the door, and then the remaining prisoners were once again confined to the absolute darkness.
A few cried softly. One pounded desperately on the door. Most simply sagged to the burning floor, subdued and defeated. As close as Raelin could tell, the orcs selected some of them every day. It was the only measurement of time they had. No one knew what happened beyond the dungeon, but the faint screams that reached them gave them a good idea.
Raelin couldn’t stand. She remained where the orc had thrown her, too weak to even sit up. The heat radiating from the floor boiled over her, drenching her in sweat. She was thirsty enough even for the terrible water the orcs brought, but she lacked the strength to even crawl across the floor to it. It had taken everything she had to simply stand and face the orc.
Someone coughed, and uttered a cracked word. Most of the prisoners hadn’t spoken for weeks; there was no reason to. They were never questioned. The orcs simply came in, took them, and left. The kyrie tried again. The word sounded a little more familiar this time, rasping over dry and cracked lips. The speaker tried again.
“R – Ra – Rae – aelin?”
Raelin looked up.
“The – orc call – called you Rae –aelin.”
Raelin could see nothing in the darkness, but she could hear one of the prisoners dragging himself closer. A hand touched her face, quickly followed by an intake of breath. “It – is you!”
Raelin knew that voice. But it was impossible. He had died long ago. She reached out a trembling hand. A long beard met her fingers. A familiar face, once powerful, now shrunken. It was him.
“Father!” she cried, launching herself at the kyrie. Tears burst from her eyes, and she fell on Raknar’s shoulder, weeping and laughing at the same time. “I thought you had died,” she whispered through the tears. “We all thought you had died.”
Raknar patted her weakly on the head as she wept. “I’m alive,” he said grimly. “The minions – captured me. I’ve been here – for so long. I’m – I’m sorry you had to join me here.”
Raelin continued to sob. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. The reality of her situation came crashing back on her all at once. “Kelda,” she finally choked out, “Kelda is alive and well. And Mallidon too.”
“When did you see them last?” Raknar asked, new strength entering his voice.
“More than two months ago,” Raelin admitted.
“And the war?”
“The war,” Raelin faltered. “I don’t know.”
Raknar sighed. “With any luck, this fighting will soon end, and we will be free. Jandar will win, I know it, and he himself will liberate us.”
Raelin didn’t have the heart to tell Raknar that the alliance was probably gone by now, or that Utgar probably ruled all of Valhalla, entirely unaware and uncaring of their existence. Besides, she had no way of knowing. And as long as she didn’t know, why should she crush hope? Drake had been right. Hope is what keeps us going against all odds. It’s what lets us see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Most of the prisoners had given up hope long ago. But Raknar hadn’t, and neither had Raelin. She had little hope that she would ever escape this dungeon, but she had hope that someday, somehow, the pain would end. And if she could end it, she would. As long as she could see the light at the end of the tunnel, she would pursue it. It was a long tunnel, the longest tunnel of her life.
But all tunnels have an end, no matter how dark.
Book 3 - Chapter Three
Resistance
Spoiler Alert!
“On your feet, worms!” The door to the dungeon banged open and a massive orc stormed inside. Raelin knew instantly something was different. This orc wore armor, and carried a tangled whip. Besides, it was far too soon. The orcs only came for them once a day.
A few of the prisoners staggered to their feet, but most could do little more than lift their heads.
“Up!” the orc bellowed. He kicked one nearby prisoner in the side.
Those that stood helped their neighbors up, but a good number of prisoners remained on the floor. The orc cracked his whip.
That served to jolt some strength into the remaining prisoners. Nearly all staggered to their feet, save for a small boy that shivered in a corner, paralyzed with fear, and an old woman. The woman was so wrinkled and thin that she looked half dead already. She tried to support herself with her arms, but her feeble strength gave out after only a few attempts. The orc approached her and raised the whip.
It was fortunate that Raelin happened to be behind the orc at that moment, rather than in front of him. In an instant, she reached out, grabbed the whip as the orc raised it, and wrenched it from his grasp.
Raelin did not know what she had planned to do. She was far from using the whip herself, that much she was sure of. She had no time to decide, though, for two orcs rushed her from the door.
A well-aimed kick to her stomach was all it took to bring Raelin down. The whip fell from her grasp, her head hit the burning flagstones of the dungeon floor, there was a moment of pain, and then everything faded to blackness. Blissful blackness.
Raelin came to a few minutes later. She was no longer in the dungeon. That became apparent the moment she opened her eyes. Everything was still black, but she could see pinpricks of light above her. Stars, she realized a moment later. It had been so long since she had seen any. She could feel earth beneath her hands. Dirt. Actual grass. Could she possibly be outside?
Raelin rolled over, burying her face in the grass. It was charred, burnt, and brittle, but it was grass. It had once been alive. She could smell a cold trace of autumn in the air.
“And what is this?” said a voice above Raelin. The voice was smooth and rich… almost kind. It definitely did not belong to an orc.
Raelin rolled back over, and found herself staring into a pale face, a face so pale it could belong to only one creature.
The vampire smiled, showing pointed teeth. Her black eyes sparkled as she watched Raelin. “She lives yet,” she said quietly.
“Get up,” said an orc behind Raelin, kicking her in the side. “You’re to stand at attention when Sonya inspects you!” Raelin got to her feet slowly.
The vampire frowned at the orc. “I prefer to keep my name unknown,” she said coldly. “Even amongst prisoners.”
The entire demeanor of the orc changed instantly. “Yes – Yes my lady, of course, anything—” He backed away, mumbling incoherently.
“Now then,” said Sonya, raising her voice slightly, “most of you are surely wondering why you are here.”
Only then did Raelin notice that she was part of a line. Prisoners extended down in a line from her left side; only the old woman was not among them.
“The war has reached a lull,” Sonya said drily.
Hope flared within Raelin. Then Jandar had not yet surrendered! However, that hope did not last long, for it meant the war still existed, and with it, the pain.
“We vampires,” Sonya continued, “do not… require blood, but it is a delicacy we crave, and our cravings rarely go unsatisfied.” Raelin didn’t like where this was going. “Since the war has reached a low point, we have of late had less blood than we are accustomed to.
“You are all here because Utgar has no use for you. You have been sent here to die. How you die is of no concern to him. Therefore, he has allowed me to select certain of you for our own… purposes.”
Sonya began examining the prisoners. Raelin felt the blood drain from her face. So this was how it would end. Eaten by vampires. Not the best of ways to go.
However, Sonya passed the first prisoner by. And then the second. And then the third. Her frown increased with each passing minute. Finally, she reached the end of the line, where Raelin stood, and looked her up and down.
“Every one of you is thinner than your skeletons should permit,” she remarked drily. “But you… you seem to have some spirit left in you at least.” She stepped back approvingly. “Yes. Captain!” she called to the orc. “I will take this one.”
“No!” There was a scuffle somewhere down the line, a grunt of pain, and then a dark shape came flying towards Sonya. It appeared that Raknar had caught one of the orc guards by surprise, knocked him out, and was now charging the vampire with the orc’s sword.
Raelin rushed forward, crying out a warning, but it was too late. Sonya whipped out a sword from her cloak, whirled around in a flash of steel, and beheaded Raknar in an instant. Blood soaked the blade and splashed onto Sonya’s face, where she licked at it eagerly.
Raknar’s head fell against Raelin, and she reeled back in horror. The headless body dropped to its knees, and then fell flat, blood still spouting generously from the severed neck.
Raelin dropped to her knees as well, eyes fixed unwillingly at the head before her. Denial was all she felt. Pure disbelief. This… couldn’t happen. She had just found her father, and now she had lost him once more.
Sonya spat. “The blood is thin. I should have known malnourished weaklings were no substitute for the soldiers of battle.” She stormed away, kicking Raknar’s head out of her way as she passed. It rolled pathetically, and came to a rest, its unseeing eyes fixed on Raelin.
Raelin gazed into those lifeless eyes for a full second. Then, with no warning, she toppled over backwards and fell into unconsciousness once more.
And now, to complete your day, a chapter from me, actually on time for a change!
Book Three - Chapter Four
Where the Tunnel Ends
Spoiler Alert!
The next days passed in a blur for Raelin. Each held as little meaning as the last. She had always held onto hope, clinging to it fiercely, but it seemed to her at last that all hope had fled. She knew she was never going to get out of this prison. The alliance had managed to hold on for three months, but she knew they couldn’t last much longer.
Seeing Raknar again had awoken old memories, and losing him again had torn them apart with cruelty. The pain she now felt showed no sign of lessening. It only remained, threatening to engulf her entirely. Part of her resolutely struggled to survive… to endure. Part of her simply wanted to give up. Neither part seemed to be winning over the other.
It was nearly a week later that the orcs came again, emptying the dungeon entirely. They piled all of the prisoners into a cart and drove south. Raelin didn’t care where they were going. She didn’t care, and she hated that fact. She had always cared. She had always had hope. She desperately wanted that hope to return. She needed it now, more than ever.
The cart came to a stop outside a strange building. It was small, most resembling the concrete bunkers Drake had told her of once. A collection of tubes, pipes, and gauges were set into one side. There was nothing on the other side but a single, heavy, thick metal door. The door was open, and looking at it gave Raelin a strange feeling. It took her a moment to recognize it as fear. She was afraid of what might be within that bunker. There was only one door, only one way in or out. It was not another cell. Without being told, Raelin somehow knew that it was the end of the tunnel she had been in for so long. Just not the end she had wished for.
The prisoners were lined up in front of the bunker, and a marro stepped into view, his yellow skin oddly tinged with green. He licked his lips before speaking.
“This is the day many of you have been waiting for. Today, your troubles will end, and you will be returned to those you love.”
Many of the prisoners lifted their heads at these words. A few even looked hopeful, but there was something Raelin found sinister in the way the marro spoke, something wrong with the way he said returned. A cold dread began to grow in her heart.
The marro grinned. “Yes, soon your trials will be over. All you need do is step into this building. In a few moments, all your deepest wishes will be granted, and you will see those precious to you again.”
A few of the smiles faltered. Some of the prisoners seemed to sense something wasn’t quite right either. However, the orcs closed in, and they had no choice but to march single-file into the thick-walled building. The door clanged shut behind them, and Raelin could hear a bolt being drawn across it.
The bunker contained only one room: four walls, a floor, and a ceiling. No benches, no windows, nothing. It was one solid block of chiseled gray. The only marks in the entire room, aside from the door, were four sinister-looking holes set in the opposite wall.
The holes were about three feet above the floor, and nearly as big around as a child’s head. The pipes that led from them curved out of sight beyond the wall, so that their mouths were pitch black.
The marro’s voice echoed within the room, coming from the holes themselves. “Very good. Now that you are all in here, it is time to deliver on my promise. For some time now, Utgar’s resources have not been spent on summoning. They have been spent on research, and deep within the Ticalla, that research has paid off.
“Some of you may be aware of the existence of Marrden Hounds. These hounds carry a plague, a plague so powerful, it can rip through entire armies given enough time. The alliance has no cure for this sickness. After nearly a month, we do.
“We have extracted this plague from the Marrden Hounds, and weaponized it. You have the honor of being some of the last subjects to test its effectiveness. Breathe deeply, and your worries will end. Very soon now, you will be with your friends once more.
“Breathe deeply. The end has come.”
Dead silence. Raelin looked at her fellow prisoners, and they looked at her. A few shrank against the far wall. After a moment, some ran towards the holes, welcoming the end. One prisoner, a young kyrie woman, turned half way there. “Come on,” she said to the other prisoners who still hung back. “They’re going to kill us anyway, no matter what we do. I’d rather die quickly than in agony. This is the end. Our fight is over.”
“No,” said Raelin, quite suddenly. The passive despair that had weighed down her heart for so long had lifted. It was now replaced with a different sensation, one that Raelin found familiar, and comforting.
“What?” asked the woman. “Why prolong your agony? Give up.”
“Give up?” repeated Raelin, a hint of anger in her voice now. “When I was seven, my father was claimed by the war. My mother followed a month later. I know what it is like to grow up without your true parents. I know the pain you have to live with. If there is the slightest chance that I can prevent that, I will not have anyone else suffer that pain because I gave up.”
A terrible hissing sounded from the pipes. Smoke, sickly green, began pouring out of them, into the room.
“Keep your hope,” the woman said. “We all end up dead one way or another.” With that, she ran towards the pipes, falling to her knees before one, and breathing deeply.
It was then that the screaming began. Those that had breathed in the plague began twitching, thrashing about on the floor, screaming in pain. Blood leaked from their mouths, mixed with foam. Their eyes rolled back in their heads, and they all shuttered to a stop, still and lifeless, their muscles tense, frozen forever more. The rest of the prisoners shrank back against the wall.
The green smoke slowly slithered forwards, hiding the bodies it had already claimed. It filled the room, and then languidly advanced, covering the floor, inch by steady inch.
A few more prisoners dived into it. They screamed, convulsed, and then were still. After a moment, there were followed by the rest, save for Raelin. She alone watched the last of them die, and then be hidden by the smoke. It then reached for her. There was naught but two feet separating her from death.
Raelin knelt. She would not succumb and throw herself to the smoke. Hope flared within her, a steady defiance. There was no logic behind it, no reasoning, just calmness. That same calmness she had always admired in Drake. She looked at the smoke, and felt no fear. Soon, very soon now, she would see her father and mother again.
There was a resounding clang on the door. Raelin jumped up. A terrible dent was in the door. The shape was strange, almost as if a three-toed foot had struck the metal. The dent widened, accompanied by a terrible screeching of metal on metal. Raelin could hear hinges tearing, slowly, metal grinding. She looked uncertainly at the smoke. It was inches from her skin. She inched along the wall to the door. She had mere seconds to live.
With a terrible scream of disintegrating metal, the door flew outwards. It did not merely open. It was flung from the doorway by several meters. And there, standing where not but solid metal had been but moments before, was Drake.
Without a word, Drake grabbed Raelin by the arm, and pulled her from the building, even as the plague reached her. She stumbled to the grass, coughing up blood violently, feeling the plague burn through her body. Fortunately, it seemed she had not inhaled enough. Her muscles contracted painfully, but then relaxed. Eyes streaming from the pain, Raelin staggered to her feet, and looked upon a scene of havoc.
There was a hill nearby, and upon this hill stood Zetacron and nine Omnicron Snipers. They were all firing down on the orcs below, who were running about without order. In front of the bunker, Drake was locked in a vicious duel with the marro.
Raelin staggered backwards when she saw Drake’s face. It was not calm. It was not reassuring. It was full of only one thing: terrible, consuming, unyielding wrath.
The marro seemed to realize this as well. He broke and tried to run. Without a moment’s hesitation, Drake fired his grapple arm directly into the marro’s shoulder, and viciously yanked him back. The marro tried to defend himself, but Drake threw aside his meager defense as if it were paper. He swung again and again, dealing wound after wound. The marro’s green blood soon stained Drake’s sword, and still he continued to hack away.
Finally Raelin, regaining her senses, ran to Drake. “Stop!” she cried. “Stop it!”
Drake paid her no heed, and raised his sword for the final stroke. Without quite thinking, Raelin pulled it from his grasp.
Drake turned on her so fast that Raelin took a few staggering steps away from him. For a split second, the anger on his face was all directed at her. But only for a moment. His eyes flicked to her face, and he saw her through the veil of rage. The terrible light in his eyes died almost instantly. He was Drake once more.
“Are you all right?” he asked, approaching her. His voice was soft, calm.
Raelin relaxed. “Not really,” she said, “but I’ll be fine.”
Drake gently pulled his sword from her grasp. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ve been looking for you for three months, and after all this time… I couldn’t hold it in.”
Zetacron arrived. “Jandar has been notified of your success, Drake,” he said. “There will be a ship waiting for you at the hidden port within three days.”
“Thank you, Zetacron,” Drake said. “Make sure every last store of this plague is destroyed. Then send the Omnicrons out on wide patrol. I am getting Raelin home, and I’d prefer not to have to kill anyone else in my way.”
Book 3 has now been completed. Coming up: the final and fourth book. Get ready!
~TGRF.
A week later, the door to the infirmary opened, and Jandar entered. Raelin had not seen him for over three months, and so could barely contain her shock at his appearance. His hair was all gray by now, and wrinkles lined his once young face. He walked with a slight limp, and much of the fire had gone out of his eyes. However, he was still Jandar. He was still ruler of Nastralund, and no amount of anxiety could rob him of the regal air that followed in his wake.
“Raelin,” he said, approaching her bedside, “I’m glad to see that you are recovering.” His voice was weaker than Raelin had remembered it, and he spoke with a weariness that she had not heard before. “I’m sorry to say that Sullivan escaped. We thought he had been captured, but it is evident now that he merely joined his true allies.”
“Sorry?” repeated Raelin. “Don’t be sorry, Jandar. It’s easier this way. If he had not escaped, you would have had to hold him, and question him.”
Jandar looked at her curiously. “Why, Raelin? Why are you so determined to let people go unpunished?”
Raelin sighed. She was tired. She had been sleeping and recovering for much of the past days, but her weariness was of a different sort. “Pain,” she said. “It’s not something I wish on others.”
Jandar sighed and sat at the foot of her bed. “I came to bring you ill news. While you were captured, Drake came up with a plan for our survival. We no longer had the forces to guard our borders. So, while Utgar waited for the inevitable, we harvested all we could from the land, burned the rest, and retreated to Nastralund. Everyone retreated to Nastralund. This is now the only territory still controlled by the alliance. The other Valkyrie barricaded and hid their wellsprings, and set traps in place to kill anyone who finds them. It was risky, but our entire army was now focused on defending a much smaller boundary. The result was that while our food stores rapidly dwindled, we were at least able to beat back Utgar’s every assault.”
Jandar sighed. “That state… just ended a few hours ago. Omnicrons have reported to me that Valkrill undermined their positions, and then decimated them from behind. Apparently a portal to the Underdark has just opened up inside our borders. The entire army has been caught off guard. As we speak, legions upon legions of the enemy are pouring into Nastralund. I’ve ordered a full retreat. This will be our final stand, Raelin. This castle will be our last stronghold.”
Raelin was speechless. After all this time, after all the false hopes and dreams, the true end had finally come. Jandar’s castle had never fallen to an enemy, but she didn’t see how they could survive. All of Utgar’s might would be focused at it, and his army was big enough to cover the whole of Nastralund from end to end.
Jandar buried his face in his hands. “I don’t see how I can go on, Raelin. I know you said to never give up, to never lose hope… but how can I ask my men to fight? They know as well as you and I that they stand no chance. They know this is the end. Maybe… Maybe I should surrender to Utgar, and trust to his mercy that he will spare our lives.”
Raelin looked at him. “Utgar has no mercy, Jandar. I felt his mercy, I know.”
Jandar gave a forced smile. “Then it’s a fight to the death,” he said shakily.
Raelin sat up and laid a hand on Jandar’s shoulder. “No,” she said firmly. “It will be a fight, but it will be a fight for something.”
Jandar let out a short bark of laughter. “For what, Raelin? The chance to die honorably? Some false feeling of a higher cause? No, we are alone and deserted, and we will die that way. What would you have us fight for?”
“Fight for faith,” said Raelin. “Faith that things can get better. That this is not the end. Whether we die or not, Valhalla will continue. We stopped fighting for ourselves long ago. If for nothing else, fight for those that will come after us. Fight, so that they may look back on us, and our determination may become theirs. Yes, Jandar, we may die. But we will not fail. Someday, somewhere, this war will end. Not in victory. Not in defeat. But in peace. Fight for that.”
A few days later, the bulk of the alliance forces arrived at Jandar’s castle, having been routed by Valkrill. They were tired, beaten, and injured. But remarkably, they were hopeful. They knew they had lost Nastralund. They knew Utgar could win by simply starving them out. But as regiment after regiment approached, and looked up to see Jandar’s mighty castle still standing, the colors of the alliance waving defiantly over its walls, they could not despair. In their own way, each and every one of them knew that this was it, the last fight, and they all resolved in their hearts, that Utgar would have to try his utmost to take Valhalla’s freedom.
In the course of the war, Mallidon had been made a captain, and Raelin, Drake, and Jandar met him at the gates of the castle as his company, which included Kelda, reported in. There were many hugs, and many tears were shed at the reunion. However, Jandar eventually had to fly to the back of the incoming army, where it was said his presence was urgently required. Drake went with him, leaving Raelin with Kelda and Mallidon.
As the day came to a close, and twilight slowly descended over the castle, those three did something they hadn’t done since they were little. They played together. For a brief time, they allowed themselves to forget about the war, about the pain, and about the misery. They played and laughed, running up and down soft green hills, flying in the clean November air, hiding in the long grass. Behind them, the army continued to pour into the castle, but the tramp of feet was dulled by the friends’ laughter.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, and darkness began to spread in earnest, they were rejoined by Drake and Jandar. For a time, as they laughed together, the lines on Jandar’s face faded, and Raelin thought he looked far younger than she had ever seen him. At last, exhausted but happy, they lay on a wonderfully green hill, watching as the silhouette of the castle faded into the night sky.
Jandar’s castle was indeed a sight to behold. It had been constructed upon finding the wellspring, partly to defend it, partly to provide a resting place for those that were summoned. The wellspring had been found high atop a mountain, in a shallow cave. Therefore, the castle had been built about it. The mountaintop was isolated, though there was a steep cliff nearby. Jandar had stretched a causeway from the cliff to the mountain, thus making the castle accessible from the ground, but also ensuring that his archers had plenty of time to pick off anyone who sought to assault the castle’s doors. This was a large part of the reason the castle had never been taken.
Now, as Raelin and the others sat admiring the castle in the growing darkness, it struck Raelin just how beautiful it was. It stood lone and proud, removed from the rest of Valhalla. Its shadow stretched over them all, as if it was watching over its land. It was the vigilant protector, the undying sentinel.
Drake let out a sigh of satisfaction. “Utgar won’t win,” he said with confidence. “We’ll never be defeated. Not as long as that castle stands, defiant against Utgar’s hordes.”
Jandar stood up, scrutinizing the castle in the distance.
“What is it?” Raelin asked. She was contented and comfortable, and had been on the verge of falling asleep.
“There is an ill cloud about the mountain,” Jandar said after a moment. “A cloud… with light.”
They all stood up. Raelin could see it now. They were near the edge of the cliff, and looking down, they could see a strange fog obscuring the base of the mountain upon which the castle sat.
The cloud was unmoving – which by itself was unnatural. But it also possessed a dim glow, almost as if a very weak light was being shone through it from the ground far below. Whatever it was, it was obvious it was magical. And that rarely meant anything good.
“It seems… familiar, somehow,” Jandar mused. “A spell… I think I’ve read of it…” His face suddenly took on a horror-struck look. “No!” he shouted. He leapt for the causeway. “Get everyone out! Evacuate the castle!”
It was too late. The sinister cloud suddenly brightened, its eerie yellow glow illuminating the mountain from beneath. There was an ear-shattering crack, a terrible report, and lightning shot through the mountain. Literally through it. Deep cracks appeared. Chunks and slabs of rock snapped off to fall far below. The castle above shook and trembled. And then, slowly, so infinitely slowly, the entire mountain cracked, and then crumbled, falling to pieces. It took the castle with it, and everything – rock, army, and wellspring – fell beneath the cloud and was lost from sight.
There was nothing left but an expanse of dark and silent sky.
Book Four - Chapter Two
The Council of Enemies
Spoiler Alert!
“My lord Jandar! Utgar requests a meeting upon the field of battle.”
“For what purpose?”
“He said… He said he wishes to avoid this battle. He said he wishes to end the war with no further bloodshed.”
Jandar stood. His armor flashed in the brilliant sunlight, the air clean after the recent winter rain. “Utgar once told me he wished to avoid bloodshed. Do you know what he really wanted?”
The sentinel looked down. “No, sire… I can’t say that I do.”
“He wanted to distract me, for at that very moment, some of his kyrie were positioning themselves above me. If it weren’t for Drake, I would have been dead long ago.” Jandar’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Go back to Utgar. Tell him that we both know perfectly well how he avoids bloodshed. Tell him that if he wants to end this now, he can march over here himself and hand in his surrender.”
The sentinel turned to leave.
“Wait,” said Raelin. She had been standing beside Jandar, and had heard everything. She now turned to face her general.
“What, Raelin?” Jandar asked. “You think I should delay to hear Utgar’s false claims?”
“I… don’t think they are false anymore, Jandar,” Raelin said slowly. “He knows what Valkrill did. He knows how… how the castle fell.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jandar muttered to himself.
“Utgar knows how many men we lost when that happened. And it’s obvious that his army outnumbers us at least five to one, if not more.”
“You’re point, Raelin?”
“My point,” said Raelin, “is that there is no logic in this. Utgar always loved war and bloodshed. Everyone in Valhalla knows that. There is virtually no chance that he will be defeated. So why would he call for a meeting?”
“As a diversion?” Jandar suggested with dry sarcasm. “Maybe he wants to kill me again.”
“But why would he want to do that, instead of a full battle?”
“I don’t know, Raelin,” Jandar said, finally losing patience. “Maybe… Maybe he doesn’t want to lose as many men. Maybe he thinks if he kills me first, my men will break and run.”
“You know Utgar thinks nothing of the lives he wastes.”
“Yes, I know, but—”
“I think Raelin is right,” Drake interrupted, who had been standing on Jandar’s other side. “I think Utgar may actually want to talk. Think about it, Jandar. You’d be meeting in the middle of an open field, where both armies can see you clearly. There’s no way he could try anything underhanded with that many people watching.
Jandar looked from Drake to Raelin. “Very well,” he finally relented. “But I want you two with me. Raelin, keep your spear ready and keep behind me at all times. Drake, stay alert for threats from any angle. You,” he shot at the sentinel, who snapped to attention, “I expect Utgar will bring aids?”
“Yes, sire,” the sentinel promptly replied. “He said each side could bring two aids. In addition he said that he would leave his weapon behind, as a sign of good faith, and requested that you do the same.”
Jandar frowned, fingering the handle of his massive war-hammer. “I expected as much,” he muttered. “Very well. Return to Utgar and tell him that I will hear what he has to say. But tell him also,” he added, “that this is to be a peaceful conference. If he attempts to use it as a cover for anything, I will not hesitate to kill him then and there, weapon or no.”
The sentinel nodded once and took to the air, winging his way towards where Utgar’s army lay.
A large portion of Jandar’s army had been lost when his castle was destroyed by Valkrill’s magic. It had been a terrible blow. Victory had been unlikely before, but now it was next to impossible.
Utgar had promptly invaded Nastralund, joining his forces with Valkrill, and proceeded to march north. He had left a large contingent behind to guard the rest of Valhalla, and still his army was far larger than the remnants of the alliance.
Having no castle to retreat to, Jandar had made a final decision. An encounter was inevitable. They were hemmed in and surrounded, with the sea at their backs. Since they had nowhere to go, they would turn around, and attack Utgar. Now, at long last, the two forces faced each other across a wide plain, white with winter snow. This would be the final battle. After today, either the alliance would die, or Utgar would. There was little doubt about what the outcome would be.
A pavilion was erected in the middle of the field, between the two armies. Presently, two figures separated themselves from Utgar’s horde and approached with unhurried steps. Drake, Raelin, and Jandar advanced from the other army. They met at the pavilion, and for the second time in her life, Raelin saw the mighty Utgar, the kyrie who had caused all this misery.
The last time she had seen him, Utgar had worn a fur cloak and a confident air. He had laughed at threats and had matched his cunning wits with those of Jandar. If anything, he was now larger than he had been. He was shorter than Jandar, but not by much, and he was a good head and a half taller than Raelin. There was something about him, though, that was different. His eyes were downcast, and a frown was upon his face. Jandar approached him with a grim smile set in place. “Utgar,” he said, holding out his hand stiffly. “How terrible to see you.”
A smile flickered across Utgar’s face as he grasped Jandar’s hand, but it faded quickly. “I know you think this to be a ploy, Jandar,” he said, “so let me put your heart at ease.”
“I doubt there is anything you can do to put my heart at ease, Utgar,” Jandar said bitterly.
Utgar sighed. “I fear you may be right.”
A pause followed.
“Why you have brought only one aid?” Jandar asked, nodding to the red kyrie that stood behind Utgar.
“Taelord was the only one I required. He’s the only one that would understand.”
“Understand?” repeated Jandar. “You speak in riddles, Utgar. And where is your mockery of our last meeting? Has all of your arrogance left you?” Jandar looked the Valkyrie up and down. “Why the change, Utgar?” he asked snidely.
Utgar looked up. “Why the change, Jandar?” he repeated. “I’ll tell you why I’ve changed. I pray only that you’ll understand when I’ve finished.
“I had a secret. A secret I kept from nearly all, and especially from the alliance. I had a wife, once; a wife I loved more than anything else. In a time before the war, we were happy together. She blessed me with a daughter. I was content with my lot in life.
“And then you came, Jandar. Doubtless you do not remember – you were but a young captain at the time. Our home in the Volcarren was raided, attacked by kyrie from the North. You were the one that entered our home, searching for I know not what. You found our daughter, still in the cradle. I don’t know what you would have done. You might have done nothing. You might have let her live. But my wife snatched her from where she slept, and tried to defend her as only a mother could. I arrived too late. It may have been self-defense; I would not know, for I was blinded with shock and rage at the time; but in an instant, my beloved wife lay dead upon the floor, her blood dripping from your hammer.
“Every morning I have woken since that day, I have sworn to myself that you would pay. I rose in rank until I commanded the whole army, even as you did. Driven by my hatred, I invaded Bleakwood, where my sources told me your family lived. I need not tell you what transpired once I found them.” Utgar looked into Jandar’s burning eyes. “For that,” he whispered, “I am eternally sorry.”
Jandar appeared incapable of speech, so Utgar continued.
“The pain of my loss lessened, but did not go away. I sought your life as well. However, my attention was soon diverted to my daughter. She had grown in beauty and will far surpassing any other. I had her trained as a soldier, and she bested any that fought her. I had turned my daughter into a weapon, something to carry out my insatiable thirst for revenge. My pride in her had no equal.
I sent her into battle. She was successful. I sent her to carry out a mission. She was—” Utgar glanced at Drake, “— foiled. But she did not let that defeat stand in her way. She continued to make a name for herself, until she was known all throughout Valhalla.”
“I never heard of a daughter of yours,” Jandar interrupted roughly.
Utgar glanced at him. “No. You didn’t, because I didn’t want her harmed. You knew her by name only, for she was Runa.”
Jandar stared at Utgar blankly. Raelin saw something else in his look. Could it be fear?
Utgar stared right back. “Not that long ago,” he said quietly, with deliberate slowness, “you summoned your entire army back to your castle. You received word that your presence was required at the back of your retreating army. You came, bringing Drake with you, and you saw the problem. Runa was attacking the rear guard. Her Helm of Mitonsoul was felling warrior after warrior, while my kyrie minions protected her from attack.”
Utgar did not take his eyes from Jandar’s face as he continued. “You broke their ranks easily. Runa engaged you. The reports said she fought eagerly, never backing down. But she was no match for your skill, and you struck her down. Then, as she struggled to get up, you landed before her, and… killed her. You killed my only daughter, Jandar. You killed my family, even as I slew yours.”
Dead silence. In the shocked stillness, Raelin saw a single tear fall from Utgar’s eye and strike the grass.
“And I suppose,” Jandar said, his voice suspiciously hoarse, “that you now mean to swear your vengeance on me to all the gods of Valhalla and beyond?”
Utgar shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “I have lost the last remnant of family I had left, the last part of my heart not tainted by grief and revenge. All that is left now is a terrible wound, something I will never be able to heal, because I know I caused it. You may have struck the blow, Jandar, but it was I that truly killed my beloved Runa. I have caused this war, and all the death and pain it brings with it. And now I am reaping what I have sown. I have finally seen the war for what it is, Jandar. I have finally realized what it has wrought on this land, and on its people. And I ask you again: end it now. End this war, before we seal our fate forever in blood.”
Utgar suddenly knelt before Jandar. “I do not ask this of you. I beg this of you: surrender, please. Let this conflict end.”
Raelin held her breath. After all this time, here, finally, was the chance she had been searching for the entire war… She watched Jandar in the sudden silence, her heart pounding loudly enough for both of them.
Jandar looked down on Utgar. At first he seemed surprised, but then his face hardened. An insane smile crept onto it, a smile that struck fear to Raelin’s heart.
“Surrender?” he repeated, in a deadly whisper. “Surrender, Utgar? I think not. You killed my family. I killed yours. Consider us even if you will, but you still have to answer for the crimes you have committed through this war.” Jandar’s voice was steadily rising. “Consider the villages burned. Consider the commoners slain. Consider the damage done to the hearts of men. You think this can be wiped clean with an apology, Utgar? Think again! This war is no longer about Valhalla. It stopped being about Valhalla when the wellsprings opened up. It stopped being about any of us when we summoned soldiers from other worlds to fight our wars. Consider what you have done, Utgar, and know that no remorse can undo this. You want me to end this war before we seal our fate? You sealed it for us long ago! You began something you knew perfectly well would end only one way. Do not try to escape the fate that you have been charging towards all your life! There is no easy way out! There is no surrender! No, you have woven this end for all of us, and now, like it or not, you will face what you have created.
“You want me to surrender, Utgar? You want me to bow my knee to you and crave your pardon? You think that will end the war? You are WRONG! Wrong, Utgar! I will never surrender to one with so much blood on his hands, and you know it!”
A very tense silence followed. Utgar slowly stood, watching Jandar.
“Prepare your army,” Jandar spat, turning on his heel. “If you think, at the end, that I have been too harsh, remember that this was an apocalypse of your own making.”
Raelin couldn’t believe it. After everything she had said, everything Jandar had agreed with, he had just flung the offer they had been looking for in Utgar’s face. Why? Because of pride. Jandar would never admit it, but Raelin knew his weakness. He wouldn’t have surrendered had Odin himself asked him to.
“Stop!” Raelin cried, stepping between Jandar and Utgar as they turned away from each other.
“Raelin!” Jandar ordered. “Get away from that dog!”
Utgar looked for a moment like he was about to punch Jandar, but did not move.
“Please,” Raelin said, looking at Utgar. “This cannot end the war. It never will!”
Utgar glanced between her and Jandar. “Raelin?” he repeated. “You are Raelin?”
Raelin nodded, confused by the question.
Utgar took a step closer to her. “I owe you an apology then,” he said, his voice heavy.
“For what?”
“For the way you were treated. I only learned recently that you had been a prisoner of mine. Sullivan believed that if I knew you were in one of my dungeons, I would have tortured you for information, so he did not inform me of his plan. Had I known… I would have used you to guarantee Jandar’s surrender.”
“Utgar,” Raelin said quietly, “please, just leave. Return to the Volcarren, and leave us in peace.” She felt tears stinging her eyes. “Please,” she whispered.
Utgar looked at her silently. “Against such an opponent as your Jandar,” he said slowly, “there can be no peace. He will pursue me until one of us lies dead upon the face of the earth. I do not intend for it to be me.”
“Then we shall fight for all eternity,” interjected Jandar, “for neither shall I go down to you!” With this, he grabbed Raelin by the arm, and pulled her away. Raelin struggled, but Jandar would not let go. He was far stronger than she was, and she eventually was forced to give up and watch as Utgar retreated back to his army.
Drake pried Raelin free of Jandar’s grasp. The Valkyrie stormed ahead, leaving them to bring up the rear. As they walked, Raelin stooped and picked a flower. Winter was barely over; it was the first she had seen in full bloom. She looked at it mournfully as they trudged back to their army.
“My dying hope,” she sighed, “was that I might see Valhalla green and alive one last time. Now I know that will never happen.”
She dropped her hand, and slowly let the flower fall to the earth.
Get ready. The final battle fast approaches in the next chapter! Prepare for the epic climax to The River that was Red. Coming tomorrow.
~TGRF.
@TheAverageFan
@William099
So rather off-topic here, but:
I have arrived at the conclusion that I need to write one more fan fiction before Code 4114. I am, unfortunately, running out of ideas. I have some, but I haven't written them for a reason, so I think my best bet would be something entirely new.
On that note... what would you guys say to a tale set in Icaria, home of the dragons? Things are far from set in stone - the idea occurred to me just today - but it's the best setting I have so far, and I wanted to know what you think before proceeding. It would probably include - though not feature - Vervalsing, from my LBV series (no previous reading of said series required).
~TGRF.
I'd love this! And as far as my silence. I just never got around to subscribing to the thread and missed all the updates.
Now both River that was Red and Heart of Vengeance have one chapter remaining??? Things are really heating up!
~TAF
Wait, what? Oh no... I was supposed to post the last part of The Heart 25 days ago! I'm glad we'll be fixing the deadlines in the new Codex, two months is just way too long to go with only one chapter. I've posted the final part of Ragnak.
There are actually three chapters left in Red. I will probably post them all together though, as the last two are short, and primarily resolution.
May 11th, 2015, 08:35 PM
TAF was the Storyteller... 
William099 is Lord of Blades...
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