Dawn broke out of the east in a wondrous blend of red and lavender clouds that swirled around the jagged peaks of the Caltar Mountains. The sun’s early rays bathed upon Shadox’s face as he rode his horse directly towards it. Tane’s horse was a step or two behind. They had acquired the horses before leaving Skadar Port and rode all night without pause. The night had gone by quickly for Tane, who was too busy thinking of what might lay ahead to dwell on what had already happened.
Mid-afternoon found Tane restless. Shadox directed them over to a small outcropping of trees nestled around a small pond. Leaving the horses to feed and water themselves, Shadox walked over to a log and produced a pouch of water, handing it to Tane as he sat beside him. Shadox then produced some dried meat and offered it as well.
“How did you know my father?” Tane did not seem eager, more of a casual wonder as he chewed the chunk of meat.
“I knew him since he was a young boy, and I was still very old.”
“Did he know that I existed? He never sent word to me.”
Shadox chose his words carefully. “Your father had not married yet. Your mother had been a servant to the Andellines. When she discovered she carried a child, your mother left the city. She was young, probably scared. I do not know great details about her decisions or any further matters with this issue. A time later, word reached the House of Cillitran that your mother bore a child. The King sent messengers to see the truth, but were told that the baby did not survive birth. The lie was told to keep you with her. A boy, a prince, would have been taken to the castle, to the throne. And your mother’s fate in all of this would have been very uncertain. The rumors were silenced, and the story forgotten. Again, I tell you I have no details on your mother’s reasoning.”
Tane shook his head sadly. “She should have told him the truth.”
Shadox shrugged. “I’m sure it was not an easy decision for her to make.”
Tane said nothing, his mind still having so much to consider that it seemed not even the answers to all his questions would put him at ease.
“It all seems so odd. My mother never spoke of him. When I was younger, and it was apparent that I was not a full elf, I asked her, and all she said was that he was out of my life. I assumed that he had died. Why would she have me believe otherwise? Why hide it from me for all this time?”
“Whatever your mother’s reasons were, they have kept you alive. And that is what matters most right now.”
Shadox handed Tane another piece of meat, their eyes not meeting as the offer was taken, Tane still too upset and confused to do anything other than stare at the pond and wish for things that will never be.
“Did you trust your mother?”
Tane looked up at the sorcerer, thinking it was a foolish question. “Of course.”
“Then trust her now. Be at peace with her decision, knowing that she made it with the best intentions.”
“For who? I have lived all of my life without knowing the truth. And my father never even knew I existed.” Tane was a mix of mourning and resentment. “She should have told me.”
They were silent for a few minutes. Tane tried as best he could to reason it out, to try and see things from his mother’s perspective, to understand what it meant for her also. She was a loving woman, he knew. She did all she could to protect Qenn and himself in every circumstance. Why was this any different? Still, he would have liked to know his father, regardless of who he was.
“I’m afraid I cannot explore into your mother’s scheme of things. Her decisions were hers alone, and that is what you must live with. I cannot answer for her.”
“If I am to trust you, sorcerer, you need to tell me everything.”
“And I will, Tane. First let me—”
“When Qenn’s father had passed, a man came to the house. He offered our mother a large sum of money. A debt paid, he called it.” Tane shook his head in disbelief. “That man was you, Shadox. I vaguely remember it, but it was you.”
Shadox said nothing.
“You knew even then?”
Shadox nodded.
“And you said nothing?”
“It was your mother’s wish.”
Tane stood, feeling so mad he could not control it. All his anguish and frustrations were surfacing. He picked up a large fallen tree branch and began to swing it into a tree with a menacing force, screaming his rage, cursing his feelings of abandonment, until nothing remained of the branch. Screaming until he could not any longer, he turned to the sorcerer and pointed his finger.
“What else?! What else are you hiding?”
Shadox motioned for him to return and sit. “We have much to discuss, Tane.”
Tane stood his ground, feeling his anger dissipate, his fists relax, his heartbeat slow to normal, then walked over and took his seat next to Shadox again.
“Tell me about this sword, this power.”
Shadox smiled. Tane would be a good king, he thought. And his questions, or the answers he needed rather, were nothing more than what he himself would require under the circumstances. He was a strong man; the people would listen to him.
Shadox thought briefly about what he was going to tell Tane, then all at once he began to talk, not at all thinking about keeping a perimeter on what should be said. Tane would be king and he should have an open, trusting, relationship with him. For now, he was the only person Tane Andelline had on his side.
“Long ago, decades passed, an allegiance between the race of Elves and Man was formed. The Andelline family and the Estrial family put their differences aside and joined hands for a common goal. That goal was to drive out the Mountain Trolls destroying everything from the Spira to the Caltar Mountains. The Trolls were vicious. They killed many men from both Races. So, the allegiance was formed, a war was started, and together they fought the Trolls out of the region, back across the Spira where they had vanished into the Shard Peaks.”
Shadox looked to Tane, who said nothing, just sat listening with a blank expression. “In celebration of this, Lord Estrial, at that time, wished to bless his newfound friendship with King Andelline by a gift offering. The King was a swordsman, a sword collector. So, Lord Estrial forged a sword for him. A unique sword. One made of magic and fire. And Andelline blood. The magic was infused into the blood and from that a sword was forged of great power. He gave the sword to the King for his family to use against other evils that would threaten them. His family alone could use this remarkable gift, as it was made out of Andelline blood. Only an heir could unlock its power. Its name is Issilix Delsoue—which means Flame of Blood.”
Shadox remained staring at Tane as he paused, seemingly in no hurry to finish, allowing time for Tane to take in the information. “The sword was kept on display in the castle. From time to time, it was moved from one location to another, to keep it safe from the thieves that thought they could unleash its power, or sell it, whatever their cause. Eventually the King removed it all together from sight, placing it in a safe-hold within the castle. But as the years passed on, and there was never a need for its use, never a real threat that demanded its power, the sword was all but forgotten.”
“But what of the power held inside the sword?” Tane’s words were laced with uncertainty. Magic was something he could live without.
Shadox nodded. “The power is something that I cannot explain. I have not seen it in use, nor do I recall it ever being used. But I believe it is a very great power. Elven magic is strong. It will stir within you, Tane. It will circulate with your blood and you will feel it there. I believe Issilix Delsoue will draw from your emotions. A binding of your will and the magic acting as one.”
Tane did not feel any more comfortable. The sorcerer’s lack of input only made him more cautious. “I’ve never seen magic in use. I know nothing about it, Shadox.”
Tane took a moment, staring at Shadox for a few seconds further, reading the conclusion in his dark eyes. Even in the daylight, the sorcerer appeared to be dark and powerful. Tane looked away, inwardly sighing. He knew what t
he other wanted. He knew what he was asking, what the sorcerer was telling him without having to say the actual words. He began to nod with acceptance and surprised himself with how scared he wasn’t.
“I am to find this sword, and we are to fight the demons. I am the last of the Andelline blood. That is why you came to me.”
He turned to Shadox, not expecting anything from him, merely wanting the other to see in his eyes that he was ready for what lay ahead. “This is what must be?”
Shadox’s blank expression did not change. “The sword is yours. Only you can wield it, Tane.”
“And the Mrenx Ku would use this weapon?”
Shadox shrugged. “I am not sure. The potential it has is unrecorded. Its power unlimited. The Mrenx Ku might see it as a threat. It might think that it could devour the Flame of Blood and become something else. Its intentions, I do not know. Only its actions.”
Tane nodded, thinking it through. “Even though I have never been to Cillitran, never heard of this sword, or anything much at all about the Andelline family,” he paused, turning away from the pond to stare into the dark pools of Shadox’s eyes, “I believe you. I’m not even sure why I do, but I do.”
Shadox smiled. “You believe because it is in you.”
Tane looked back to the pond and wondered what his brother was doing. His heart ached doing so. He forced his thoughts aside.
“I am only part Man. I have Elven features, as you can see. How will the people believe what you have told me? Especially if no one knows that I even exist.”
“It is not theirs to decide who you are. And if we do not act quickly, there will be no people left anyhow.”
Shadox rose, stretched, then walked over to the pond, dipping his hands into the blue water then rubbing them across his face. He sat at the edge of the water for a few seconds, his mind focusing on the tasks that will come in the near future.
He rose, walked back to Tane and offered a faint smile. “We must continue.”
Tane said nothing in response. He stood, stretched his back and legs, then walked with Shadox over to the horses. He wasn’t ready to leave. He wanted to keep any conversation going, anything that would keep them at the pond’s clear water and the plain’s quietness. It may be the last peaceful moment he would enjoy for quite some time, he thought bleakly.
Again he wondered how Qenn was doing.
As they reached the horses and were about to mount, Tane turned to Shadox in time to see the strong sorcerer’s face turn instantly bathed in lines of anger.
“What is it?”
“They are here,” he spit viciously.
Shadox turned to a small grove of trees at the far end of the pond, one finger pointing into the shadows.
Instantly Tane’s heart pounded, his blood pumping much faster than he could handle, his body turning cold all over. They had found him again. He turned to stare into the trees, following the direction of Shadox’s index finger, but failed to see anything. Shadox never moved, never suggested that he had been wrong, eyes still focused hard, face still angry.
“I should have sensed them earlier.” Shadox cursed to himself, watching Tane look away from the hillside to himself in question. “Prepare yourself, this is what awaits us. This is our war.”
Tane turned. Across the horizon, along the slope of the hill marching down slowly was a line of black cloaked demons. A dozen, if not more. Tane swallowed hard, watching them reach the bottom of the hill and disappear into the woods. In a few minutes, they would be on them.
Tane scrambled to mount his horse. “Let’s go! We have time yet!”
Shadox moved away, eyes still staring into the trees, waiting for the Takers to emerge. His voice was angry. “We will not waiver or retreat!”
“I have no weapon, sorcerer!”
Shadox turned to him, pulling his hood over his head, masking his face in shadow, growling sternly. “Stand by your steed. Do not move.”
Tane did as he was told. He watched as the sorcerer knelt down in the dirt, palms flat against the ground, eyes closed in concentration. He couldn’t hear what the sorcerer was whispering, but it wasn’t much. Seconds later, Shadox rose to his feet and walked over to him, whispering again, rubbing his hands against Tane’s face.
“They will sense you, but will only see a tree.” Shadox withdrew his hands, then stepped further away, turning towards the trees.
Tane held his breath. The look Shadox was carrying was enough to weaken his knees. He stared towards the woods. His body turned colder, bumps pricking his skin the length of his muscled frame. From what he saw of himself, he didn’t think the sorcerer’s disguise would work. He could clearly see himself as he was; he looked nothing like a tree.
“Stand firm!”
From out of the tree-line, a formation of black images began to appear, moving slowly, separating in to groups of two, stalking like predators. One group moved along the north side of the pond, the other heading down the south bank. They would trap Shadox and Tane in the middle; there would be no escape. Shadox held his ground, Tane stood motionless. Groans of unthinkable pain escaped from the depths of the monsters closing in, shrieks howled, destroying the eerie calmness.
Then suddenly white fire shot from Shadox’s extended fingers, shattering any stillness lingering, engulfing the first swarm directly ahead, smothering them in a ball of white light that sizzled with the sound of burning flesh. Immediately the other Takers across the pond attacked, red fire searing past him, some absorbing into his protective shield, knocking him from his stance. A few of them entered the water, disappearing into its depths in an attempt to cross. Shadox sent his white fire into the clear water, boiling it, the demons burning in it as they drown in vain. The others circled around the pond rapidly. He turned to face them quickly, white light searing in long intervals from his fingers, smashing into the demons as they rounded the end of the pond and closed in on him.
Tane stood helpless, listening to the sounds of the magic flying out of Shadox’s hands, the groaning he exerted during each round, and grimacing at the screams the demons made once his magic hit their target. He was too scared now to move at all. He focused solely on trying to keep his heart at a steady rhythm, and his feet from doing what all logic told them to do. He held his ground, the battle in front of him less than ten yards away.
Then Shadox bolted.
Sprinting towards the first wave of Takers, his white magic hummed as he continued his assault without mercy, sending his fire into their black robes, holding them as they tried to fight past. Their screams were shrill and terrifying. Painfully endless. Shadox was less than five feet away from the monsters when they began smoking, their cloaks searing from the heat, the white magic wrapped around all that they were-inside and out. Still he poured it to them. His face glowed from the reflection.
Then they exploded.
Ash and smoking cloth blew skyward in a volcanic eruption. Their soot rained down on their destroyer, who instantly turned away and raced toward the other end of the pond where a group of Takers were howling in their advance, their hatred spewing out of their open maws, their anger escalating even more-so.
Tane saw the look in the eyes of the sorcerer as he raced past, and felt his knees buckle.
Shadox screamed in vengeance, a loud demanding yell that threatened the lives of those who sought to intrude. But the Takers would not turn away. They couldn’t. Their hatred was such that they lived solely to destroy; they could not sense a collapse in victory. They would kill or be killed. Nothing else made sense.
Then a shockwave exploded through the air, the wind blowing Tane’s hair, taking the air from his lungs. He nearly toppled over. He turned impulsively. What he saw then was a struggle between Shadox and his attackers. A screen of red magic was walled away by a shield of white fire as each sent their powers into the others.
But as the white fire was strong, it was wielded by only one master. The red fire, however, had twelve hands it drew from as six Takers held their ground, gain
ing slowly on the sorcerer, bending their magic in a wall to surround him. Shadox’s hands moved with the advance, long arms extended, muscles straining with usage. Within a few minutes, they had circled him completely.
Tane could barely see Shadox within the ring of flames, his white fire splashing in the enclosing red wall. Tane panicked. If something were to happen to Shadox now… He held his thought, though his heart pounded as if trapped and desperately needed to be free. He needed to do something. He had to help in some way. But he was helpless. He couldn’t even think of a weapon that could help him. The Andelline sword, he thought bleakly. If he only had it now.
Shadox dug deep, reaching down into himself, his determination was too strong for him to give in, too strong to be held the way he was. He began to turn his body, his arms still at length, his magic spewing continuously out. They would wear him out, he thought. They would drain him, and then take him. He screamed in defiance. He would not let that happen.
Still the Takers closed in. Their circle tightening. Their magic folding downward. Already the white fire was lost to Tane. Black robes and red fire was all he could see. For all he knew, the sorcerer was lost. For all he felt, so was he.
His panic breathed life then, and he did was he was told not to do. He began yelling, just screams at first, short and uncertain, then long and demanding attention. He had no plan, just a distraction. Just enough for them to lose concentration and turn their focus, just enough to give Shadox some air.
It worked.
At once he watched the six heads turn and stare in his direction. His mouth closed immediately. He second-guessed his actions right away, feeling a sinking pit in his stomach start to swirl. They were staring at him as if they could see him. For all he knew, they could. He could see himself for that matter. Maybe the sorcerer’s magic was drained enough that his protective illusion had failed. If Shadox couldn’t protect himself…
Two of the Takers began to walk towards him. Their faces black beneath their cowls, hidden in shadow as dark as their souls. With no deviation in their course, they headed towards Tane with certainty. Tane held his ground, his inner voice screaming for him to flee, to do anything but just stand there and hope for the best. Then off behind them, he saw two more detach themselves from the fight and head for him. Beyond, a red ball of light smothered the ground as the last two Takers poured their magic in a steady stream. Shadox was nowhere.
Tane bolted.
He gave way to his instincts, acting on the impulses racking his body with fear and self-preservation. As he did so, all the Takers howled a new sound, one of delight and victory. With all six in pursuit, Tane screamed a battle cry and ran. With the Takers leaving to peruse him, he could see the sorcerer’s form slumped against the grass, a charred circle burning around him. He began yelling his name, not knowing if Shadox was alive or not.
He turned then, looking forward to the trees, hoping to gain enough ground that he could circle back and rein a horse, pick up his fallen companion and flee. As Tane ran, his thoughts stayed on the notion that he needed that sword. It was calling to him, he could sense it, he could see it, almost feel it in his hands. But then red fire was exploding at the trees near him and all he thought was: stay alive!
Tane entered the small cropping of trees and realized that they were too thin to hide him. He ran in a sporadic race, hoping to throw off the red magic sent to destroy him. Trees burst into flames everywhere around him. He dared not to look back. He didn’t want to see the inevitable. He reached the end of the thicket and turned sharply back, skirting the tree-line in a frantic pace to reach the horses. Twice he looked into the woods and saw black shadows weaving their way around the burning trunks. Black smoke began to billow skyward in a funnel. Death was all around him.
As he cleared the trees completely, and the pond was ahead once again, Tane looked forward and nearly stopped in his tracks. A single figure stood in his way, black and smoking, arms raised, leveling towards him. Tane swallowed hard. It was over.
Suddenly white fire burst. Tane yelled as Shadox’s magic seared past him on both sides. Screamed again as he looked back to see clawed hands swiping out at him just as the magic slammed them back into the dirt.
“Take cover,” coughed Shadox. His face was a mask of burnt ash, his clothes smoking still.
Tane did as he was told, running back to mount his horse, ready this time for escape. He turned back in time to see Shadox turn three of the Takers into ash. Then one by one, the rest of the demons emerged from the trees and were met by the maddened sorcerer, who left them little time to counter. Within a few moments, Tane watched the smoking figure decimate them all in a shower of burning debris.
When he was through, and none were left to fight, Shadox dropped to his knees, head slumped down, face hidden beneath the singed cowl. Tane reined the horse, bringing them both towards the exhausted sorcerer. But not in time.
Surging from the pond in blurry movements, a Taker emerged and was on top of Shadox before he even had a chance to look up. Tane screamed, the horses bucking in response. But he held them course, only to watch the Taker smother Shadox to the ground. It appeared as if the sorcerer had no fight left in him. White fire lit at Shadox’s fingertips, but no flare. Tane saw the Taker push itself into Shadox’s body as if it were an open door. The struggle lasted a few moments, the sorcerer’s body convulsing wildly, angrily, as the new poison clashed with his own life source for a struggle of control. As Tane reached his side, the Taker was all but disappeared, only its cloak tail and its feet were still visible.
Tane jumped off his horse, screaming as if it were his only weapon.
Shadox’s body emitted a white glow. Then suddenly, it disintegrated. The body trying to enter his was destroyed in a gulf of flames, smoking ash flying several yards in all directions. The shockwave knocked Tane off his feet, staggering backward on his heels until he fell. Scrambling to his feet, he saw Shadox’s body slump forward. He lay motionless, face first in the dirt. Tane raced to his side.
“Shadox!” Tane looked at his face and felt his heart melt. It was black, some areas of skin were still smoking. His cloak sizzled with heat, edges frayed and burnt to a crisp.
Shadox’s eyes were bloodshot and barely open, his skin pale and cold. He was weak and shaky, his pulse thready. He had used all his energy to destroy the Taker entering his body. He had to go deep within his core where the evil was already taking root, spreading through his system rapidly. He had escaped within himself, balling all the power that was left for him to command, sending it out through is body in one concentration. It was the only way to extract the evil, only way to make sure it did not take over. The consequences were high, nearly fatal.
“I’ve got to get you help! You’re dying!”
Shadox coughed, spitting blood. “Help me stand.”
Tane did so immediately, propping his body up against a horse. “You need water. Hang on.”
Tane led him over to the pond, scooping a handful of water into the other’s mouth, letting him drink slowly. His lips looked burnt; his face too painful to stare at. He gave the sorcerer water until he couldn’t drink any longer. His normally tan complexion was white still, though it seemed as if his body had calmed. Shadox spoke, soft and inaudible. Tane tried to get him to speak louder, and when Shadox did so, all he caught was “horse”. Tane half carried, half dragged the sorcerer back to his horse, Shadox offering no resistance. With much help from Tane, the wounded sorcerer mounted the horse and collapsed, clinging to the reins.
“I’ve got to get you to a doctor.”
Shadox leaned in close to the horse’s head and began whispering. Tane took notice, moving in close enough to pick out a few words, knowing them to be a different language. When the sorcerer was finished, he turned to Tane.
“Mantel Orris.”
Shadox’s horse galloped away before Tane could say anything. Tane mounted his and followed, leaving the burning trees and the smoking ash to melt into one bad memory.
/> CHAPTER SEVENTEEN