It was nearing mid-afternoon when Shadox was free of the Lyyn Forest and entered the Lor Plains. He traveled north from the Ailia Court on horseback, but once the woods turned heavily knotted, he sent the horse home and went ahead on foot. He was heading to the ruins of a fortress hidden within the Stone Flats, long bereft of heirs, to where his newest protégé Ankar Rie was busy learning. As the plains stretched away before him, with rocks and giant split-boulders edging the horizon, his thoughts dwelled on his first pupil: Dren.
Dren had been far younger than Ankar Rie when he had taken him in, but also far more scarred. Dren’s parents were killed when he was a small boy, leaving a wound that fed on his anger. Shadox remembered how long it took him to teach Dren something without the boy lashing out every time he failed. Dren’s anger easily got the best of him back then. Shadox taught Dren how to be patient; he showed Dren how necessary it was to have control over his emotions. It wasn’t easy, but Dren did change. He learned how to channel his anger through education and repetition, always pushing himself harder to be stronger faster, hungry to stand alone.
Only now looking back, could Shadox see the course he had set Dren on. Shadox had failed the boy. “He wasn’t ready,” the sorcerer mumbled to himself, as if admitting the blame would somehow unshackle the chains that bound him to the guilt.
He quickened his pace, eager to leave the small grass of the Lor Plains, wishing to reach the rocky terrain of the Stone Flats within a few hours. His strides were long and purposeful. He had little time to search information and right his wrongs. Help would be needed, of course, and he knew where to find it. Ankar Rie would be ready, he told himself.
He would not end up like Dren!
The relationship between Shadox and his two protégés differed. Though he was close to them both, and taught them both the same, Ankar Rie was more of an equal. Ankar was in his early stages of adulthood when Shadox met him; he was already comfortable with who he was and patient as a student. He was rational and didn’t speak carelessly. He was hungry, but not so eager that he made poor decisions. He had seen enough of life to know what a situation called for and when to leave something alone.
After several months with the sorcerer, Ankar Rie was training on his own. Shadox was impressed, admiring his techniques as if their roles had been reversed. It did not take Ankar long before he was one of the strongest allies Shadox had.
Dren on the other hand, was young and in many ways vulnerable. He was angry. But Shadox saw past his immaturity and found his potential.
Shadox felt his heart ache terribly. He knew the reality of the situation. The only hope of saving what remained of his protégé was to destroy what he had become.
Dren would not be coming back to Illken Dor.
It took a few hours before Shadox entered the Stone Flats. Gravel littered the dirt beneath him like leaves in autumn as the field grass of the Lor grew sparse and then non-existent. The further he strode, the larger and more congested the rocks became. Soon large boulders jutted skyward, towering over the tall sorcerer, turning the slight hills and drops into a winding maze that stretched for miles. But Shadox knew the turns, right and wrong, and where the pitfalls were. Truth was, he could find his way through the maze blind. Others who have tried to pass through became lost and perished. Even the most skilled Tracker could spend days within the stone garden before finding a way out.
After nearly an hour of winding his way through the rock-filled terrain, the sorcerer scaled a small rise to where he could see down at the valley below. Night Well stretched before him, a small lake with frigid black water enclosed by a towering wall of rugged granite. A massive slab of black granite jutted skyward at the center of the lake. Upon the rock hid the ancient castle of Illken Dor. Built with dark bricks and black wood, it was almost unseen within the darkness of the surrounding water and granite enclosure. Even the tallest towers blended in with the stories below them. It was made to be an illusion, in case anyone who did find it would only see a granite rock.
Shadox smiled. He was home.
Suddenly Shadox sensed a voice. Immediately he held his breath, melting into the silence of the rocks.
Shadox! Help!
Again it cried, pleading with dire urgency. It was Ankar Rie. The fear in his voice was chilling. Ankar could hold his own under the most demanding circumstances. Something was very wrong.
Shadox raised his long arms over his head and began whispering, his fingers twitching fast and deliberate. Seconds later, he vanished.
Sweat coated Ankar’s light complexion in a blue shine, glistening under the light of his magic which was flowing steadily from his extended fingertips. He was crouched on one knee, casting a protective shield around him. His wild blonde hair was damp with his straining effort; his strong body beginning to tire. The blue shield held firm in a circle around him while the dark shadows just beyond swarmed violently, trying to break in. Red fire burned from their fingers, but was deflected by Ankar’s shield. Past the soft buzzing of his safeguard, he could barely make out the shrieks hissing at him with terrible hatred.
Ankar Rie was in the entrance to the library, holding the demons at bay. They had attacked two days before and swarmed into Illken Dor like a wave, destroying everything. Ankar had fought and killed several before he was able to push back the horde, shielding himself to where he was now. The narrow corridor to the library had been the only thing that saved him. If he had been caught in one of the open chambers, the fight would not have lasted this long.
The attack had happened so fast that he didn’t really know who they were or what they wanted. But the power they had was evident, pure and driven by madness. He had felt the air about him turn instantly foul, so much so that he became nauseated. Seconds later, they were upon him, flooding down the narrow stretch quickly, racing to destroy him before he could act.
But his magic had flared just before they came in contact, bursting from his fingers, sending a wave of blue light searing into the foremost, burning them into ash. A few slipped past and he was forced to divert his attention quickly from his left to his right, burning into those who reached the library.
But his attackers were relentless and he was heavily outnumbered. His only chance was to throw up his shield while he could and think of a solution. He was alone in Illken Dor; no one would aid him. For two days his mind raced for answers, but none were found. He used what strength he could spare to seek out Shadox, finding the sorcerer near Night Well, and called out to him. With his strength failing slowly, he heard no response.
Shadox, help!
Now as he crouched low against the warm floor, his eyes open to a sea of red light spilling down upon him as the dark monsters tried again to mass their strength in another failed effort to crash his barrier. Ankar Rie flinched, feeling a foulness trying to creep under his skin; their magic was becoming more and more evident to his body. He had held strong for so long, but he knew his time was running out. A day more, perhaps. No longer.
Sweat dripped off Ankar’s chin, forming a small puddle between his knees. His robe was soaked completely. His neck was sore from the strain, but he preferred the stance. He kept his eyes open and alert, waiting patiently for his strength to fail. He paid high attention to their movements; his timing would have to be exact. His heart pounded faster. His breathing quickened in anticipation. His blue eyes darted everywhere. He took a deep breath and held it.
Suddenly the glimmering shield around him was gone. Blue bolts of light shot from his fingers into his attackers, burning them to ash, disintegrating those closest. As the ash rained down to either side of him, the blue shield lit again. Shrieks rose terribly loud as red light smothered his shield. As he exhaled sharply, he smiled. It had worked again. But it was too risky to keep doing so. He decided not to chance it again, even if he enjoyed it.
Minutes slipped by slowly. Red light spilled down upon him now in waves, so much so that he barely even saw the dark figures without. They were working hard, he knew. They were tired of him. If
he withdrew his shield now to attack, he would perish.
Shadox!
Suddenly a white light lit the corridor, consuming everything. The surprise allowed for his footing to fail and he toppled onto his back. As he scrambled to his feet, he saw another white explosion from the end of the corridor. Seconds later it was in smoke. Ankar held his ground. He struggled to keep his breathing steady. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the dimness once again.
Then he saw it. From within the raining ash strode a lone figure.
“Ankar!” Shadox called to him, the falling ash clouding his sight. “Are you all right?”
The smile on Ankar’s face could only be matched by that of his relief. He withdrew his shield at once. “Shadox!”
Shadox reached the entrance to the library and peered in cautiously. As Ankar reached for him, his head went dizzy. The room spun. Seconds later he fell into Shadox’s arms.
“We’re under attack,” he gasped. His wet body began convulsing.
“You’re safe now, Ankar.” Shadox lifted him, cradling him into his arms. He continued with a calmer tone, allowing his concern to show. “You’ve spent too much energy. I must get you upstairs. Illken Dor is empty now.”
Ankar struggled to speak, having so much to say, but the words failed him. “Shadox…they attacked…”
“Sh. Save your energy, Ankar. Rest.”
Ankar did as he was told, feeling his body being carried away. Through the long blinks he could make out blood on Shadox’s hands. He looked up to the sorcerer for an explanation, but his body was shutting down too quickly. As Ankar traced the speckles of blood from Shadox’s chin to his nose, his eyes closed and remained so.
Shadox passed through the narrow corridor, through the piles of smoking ash, through the memories of what he had to do to reach his young friend, to the winding stairwell and ascended without pause. Black stains charred the grey stone blocks circling the stairs. Some of them were still smoking. Ash piles littered the steps in heaps, serving as a reminder of the nightmares that had stormed the castle. There had been so many, he thought bleakly. They would have overrun Illken Dor and destroyed Ankar Rie.
He carried Ankar to the top of the stairs and turned, walking down a long corridor. He turned again, moving through a grey brick hall, past several smashed doors, passing rooms that were now in shambles. Illken Dor was a mess from one end to the other. As they reached the end of the hall, he stepped into a small eating room. Shadox laid Ankar on the sitting bench next to a large wooden table and prepared food and drink. Torches lit the room, hung high against the grey walls giving the only light.
Shadox poured some red ale into a glass and helped Ankar Rie drink it down. He did so, spitting it back up only once, coughing as though he had not drank in days. In the same fashion, Shadox fed him a small chunk of cheese. After a few moments, Ankar was feeding himself.
Ankar said softly, “You saved my life.”
Shadox sat across the table from Ankar Rie and chewed on a chunk of bread. “I only wish that I had arrived sooner, Ankar.”
“I’m lucky enough to be sitting here with you now, I think. So I do not see your lateness.” Ankar finished his cheese and drank his ale down, pouring another glass and drinking that down as well. “What were those things?”
Shadox’s face was hard, as though he was still fighting, his eyes still intense, his fist in white knuckles. “They are called Takers. They were created to eliminate the Elves, then the rest of the Races.”
Ankar stopped eating. “Why were they here? We are nowhere near the Ailia Court.”
Shadox thought about it for a moment. “They are possessed with the lust for power. They can sense it; maybe even smell it. Illken Dor possess magic that would draw their attention. I think they came here to see what they could find.”
“Who would create such things? You wouldn’t think it possible.”
Shadox sighed. “Elves.”
“Why? How?”
“Let me tell you of why I was coming back to Illken Dor and you’ll see a larger picture.”
Ankar listened eagerly. “Tell me everything, Shadox.”
The sorcerer paused to gather his thoughts. “King Andelline is dead. So is his son. It was made to seem that the Forest Elves are to blame for both. War will break out between the kingdom of Cillitran and the Forest Elves. And an army of those demons advances and will annihilate them all if we cannot find a way to stop them.”
Ankar exhaled slowly. He remained quiet, taking in all that he had learned.
Shadox chewed on a piece of cheese then swallowed. “One thing more: Dren, whom I left in the Ailia, has become our worst enemy. He is part of a living power that the ancient elves dubbed a Mrenx Ku.”
Ankar Rie asked after a moment of silence, “What is that?”
Shadox spoke of the unleashing of their greatest threat. He described the transforming of the two Dark Elves and Dren, the unison of the magic with the user, and the poison that it created, feeding off of other magic, making it its own. When Shadox was through, they were quiet. Ankar stared blankly at the table. Shadox clasped his hands together across the table and did the same.
“How can we defeat a magic that will absorb other magic?” Ankar’s eyebrows slanted, his mind already working on a solution.
But before he could figure it out, Shadox replied, “We can’t.”
Ankar’s head lifted abruptly to stare at the other, his face flush with question. But before he could speak, Shadox was answering. “I mean to say that it is a magic that has evolved into something else and will consume what we would use to counter it. It literally feeds on magic, and its users. It is born of another time, Ankar. The solution must also come from that time.”
“What if it does not exist?”
“It must.”
Shadox drank the last of his ale, and then rose. “I’m going to the Well to search for an answer.” He raised a hand to stop Ankar from standing. “You my friend, must regain your strength. The road ahead will not be an easy one. Go. Rest what you can. I will come to you when I have found something.”
Ankar did not want to argue. “You will call if you need me?”
Shadox gave Ankar a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. “It is nice to be home, Ankar Rie. I have missed you.” With that, he turned and left the room.
Ankar watched him go, feeling his eyelids grow heavy. He did need to rest, and was grateful for the chance to do so. He poured a large glass of ale and drank it down. Before he rose, he ripped a hefty chunk of bread off and stuffed it into his mouth, then walked to his room.
Shadox was in the lower chambers, standing in the corridor where he had found Ankar upon arriving. He stood in reflection. He knew how close he had come to losing his friend. And with time slipping away, he wanted to make sure that he lost no other to the hands of the Dark Elves creation. He entered the room and walked for a narrow door in the far corner. Opening the door, he descended down a flight of stone steps in the dark. They ran a great length, bending and twisting deep below Illken Dor. Finally coming to an end, Shadox reached a small landing. Steps were carved into the granite rock, turning away, leading into a dark cavern.
Shadox did not hesitate. Walking into the center of the chamber, he motioned to the walls and several dim torches lit. The room was a hollow portion of the granite slab surrounded by Night Well. At its center stood a small table holding a pool of dark liquid. It was centuries old, made of Night Well’s water and magic. Sorcerers had created a tool, pouring all of their knowledge and wisdom into the water, allowing them to seek what others had to offer by releasing their energy into it and letting their thoughts drift with their questions. Shadox walked over to it, pressing his chest against the hard wood, and sinking his hands into the cool fluid. His eyes closed. His mind focused, clearing his thoughts on everything but one.
He began to initiate contact then, spilling a small amount of his magic into the fluid, calling for it to wake and aid him. He said his troubles through h
is mind, his thoughts focused on the Mrenx Ku and the power needed to destroy it. After a few moments, the water began to turn hazy and a thin mist dissipated over its surface. When it cleared, Shadox stood looking at a map. The water was showing him his answer.
Shadox stared at the tropical formation, the waterfall and the brilliant blue lagoon. The water flashed views several times, showing Shadox pin point locations. LifeWaters, whispered back to him. Then the waters honed in on a waterfall, panning up high enough for him to see the Shard Peaks far to the west and the Upper Krune to the east.
Shadox withdrew his hands. The magic needed lived somewhere within the Pikes. He left the room at once, hastily ascending the steps up into Illken Dor once again. The torches blew out on their own, leaving the Well to settle back into the darkness.
Ankar Rie’s nightmare had taken root almost as soon as his blonde hair hit the pillow. He was trapped in Illken Dor fighting Takers. He was yelling for help, but his voice carried no sound. He thrust forth his hands to call upon his magic, but failed. Takers attacked him as one, holding him fast to the stone wall, while the biggest of them crept forth, appearing only as a large shadow, but feeling more powerful than Illken Dor itself. He struggled to break free, watching the Taker begin to ease its fingers into his skin, further and further, deeper and deeper. Ankar could feel a wave of nausea wash over him. He fought it for as long as he could, but he knew he couldn’t win. It was killing him.
Ankar was so deep into his dream that he never felt the hand brush his shoulder.
“Ankar,” Shadox spoke softly, nudging him again. “It is time.”
Ankar’s eyes opened, still clutching a terrified look. “What?”
“Ankar, you’re safe.”
Ankar swallowed hard, looking around the room, expecting to find something attacking. But there was only Shadox. He sat upright on his bed, Shadox sitting next to him.
“What time is it?” Ankar used his palms to rub the sleep from his face.
“Dawn will break soon.” Shadox slowly turned to face him. In the corner of the room a small lantern was lit, offering little light, casting dark shadows across the sorcerer’s face. “I have found something of value.”
Ankar Rie nodded. “What is it?”
“Our answer lies deep within the Pikes. A place called the LifeWaters.”
Ankar shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Few have and lived to tell. It’s found across the Spira, buried in the Pikes, lost in another age altogether, kept locked away and forgotten, but very much alive, and very powerful.”
“I’ll pack some food.” Ankar Rie began to stand, but was stopped by the other’s large hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Our journey lies south. We must return the Prince to Cillitran and prepare for the war. Others will have to make the journey to the LifeWaters and retrieve the talisman necessary and carry it forth to the Mrenx Ku.”
Ankar Rie was confused. “Why are we not going?”
“Remember what I said about the power of the Mrenx Ku? It will absorb all other magics into itself. It would destroy us, Ankar.”
Ankar was worried. “Who will go?”
Shadox’s face was nearly expressionless. His dark eyes held firm as he calmly replied, “There are a few en route as we speak.”
Ankar Rie wanted to ask more questions, but knew better of it. If the sorcerer was confident, then he would let it be. For now, at least.
“Ready your things, Ankar. We leave now.”
Ankar rose when Shadox did and followed him out of the room. His mind wandered with questions. He could not see who would be better suited than they to retrieve the magic needed to destroy the Mrenx Ku. He kept trying to reason it out: if their magic wouldn’t work, how would another? Who would wield it, if not them? Shadox had kept his answers to himself. Eventually all things would be in the open. Ankar Rie was just going to have to wait. He decided he would be fine with that.
They made their way into the cooking room and packed some provisions into deep pockets hidden within their robes, dried meats and cheese mostly, a few chunks of bread. Other food would be foraged when needed. They left the main rooms and ventured through the corridors leading them out to Illken Dor’s entrance. Stepping outside, the cool air sweeping across the lake met them.
Shadox placed one hand on Ankar’s shoulder and smiled. Ankar could sense the sadness within him. Shadox spoke softly. “I have taught you all that I can. You have been my greatest pupil and I am proud to have you with me.”
Shadox increased his grip, squeezing Ankar’s muscle. “You are ready. But our paths will turn here, my friend. You must go to Cillitran and speak with the Queen. Sienna will not want to hear anything you must tell her. Be ready. She is stubborn, and now with the King gone, she will not be easily persuaded. But you must delay the attack on the Forest Elves for as long as you can. Inform their army of the threat advancing from the north. Their commanders will listen to you. Prepare them as best you can, and I will join you in the fight.”
“Where will you go?”
“I have to go into the southland. I will return to the house of Andelline as soon as I can. And I will bring a weapon of great destruction to aid us in the war. Things will be dark, Ankar. Stand firm.”
Ankar felt the grip on his shoulder tighten, then release. “You too.”
“Till we meet again, my friend.” Shadox turned and walked away. He moved over a wood and rope bridge leading over Night Well. In seconds he was lost from view.
“These walls will await your return.” Ankar Rie whispered.
He stood overlooking Night Well alone. After taking one last look at his home, he reached into his cloak and produced a small clear pill. He tossed it into Night Well and began walking across the bridge. Seconds later, a thick sheet of mist began to rise from its dark waters consuming everything.
Across the black water, standing in the midst of the rocks, Ankar Rie looked back and saw nothing of Illken Dor.
CHAPTER EIGHT