Mira's Hope (17 page)

Finally, there was Yeia. Tark had been torn
between him and Vorna, but chose to go with Yeia, mainly because
his desire to exact his revenge on Rau and his minions. This fact
alone made him lethal. Yeia had been related to Shorva, the late
elf, who had attempted magic against a group of Torlics who’d
attacked his family. Shorva died within a matter of minutes, but
the memory of it still hung thick with his family, including Yeia.
Although he wasn’t the quickest, or had any other special
abilities, his determination often allowed him to win out against
his opponents when they became tired.

Altogether, Tark felt he’d chosen wisely and
as the week progressed, he knew he had. Not only did they go
through the trainings with ease, but by the end of the week, they’d
made such progress that Tark began to wonder if Mira didn’t have
her hand in their learning. He reduced their trainings to just the
evening, instructing them to begin working with their own groups in
the mornings. To his further amazement, the groups his original ten
selected learned equally as fast. By the end of the second week, he
almost had a fully trained army.

He headed back to his home after receiving
reports from all of his commanders and shook his head. He should
have been impressed with the rate at which the army was learning,
but instead, he found he was beginning to doubt himself. The
progress they all made had taken him nearly a lifetime to achieve.
He was beginning to wonder if he was as good as he always thought
he’d been. Why were others so much more capable of learning what
his father spent years teaching? He reached the door and went
through, calling out good nights to those who called out to him
first. For the first time, Tark was beginning to doubt his ability
to lead this army of elves, thinking there may have been a better
choice available. He consoled himself by thinking that this war
wasn’t about his pride, but winning their freedom. He was the one
willing to do it and he needed to be content with that fact.

Without undressing, Tark collapsed into bed;
sure he would not be able to sleep for hours, because his thoughts
seemed to plague him with doubt and shame. He was just
contemplating who would make a better leader, when he found himself
in a place filled with light so bright, tears streamed from his
eyes in response to the brightness. He blinked several times,
trying to help with the adjustment, but to no avail. In the end, he
settled on squinting so he could see his surroundings better.
However, there was little for him to see but whiteness and the
blinding light.

Appearing in front of him out of apparently
thin air was what Tark originally mistook as Galena. Upon further
glances, he realized it was not her, but another beautiful woman
with fiery red hair and intense green eyes. She dimmed the light
around them so Tark could see a little easier, although the light
was still a little too bright.

“Mira,” he said realizing as soon as the name
left his lips that it was true.

“I’ve been looking forward to talking to you
ever since I saw you in Galena’s mind. She loves you dearly, you
know.” Her voice reminded Tark of a spring breeze after a hard
winter and the gentle rain in the night.

He found his doubts and worries fleeing and
peace steal over him. “It’s you isn’t it?”

“Yes, I am, for a lack of a better word,
assisting your elves in their training. You have a long and hard
road ahead of you even with my help and it’s the least I could
do.”

“Will we win?”

“Even I don’t know the outcome of this war.
It’s been a long time coming and I’ve done what I can to swing the
odds in our favor, but it will still be mainly in the hands of the
elves.”

Tark nodded at this, letting her words sink
in and the implications behind them. “Am I doing the right thing? I
know I had my reasons, but I feel as if I’ve abandoned Galena and
Elenio.”

“Never doubt your instincts, for they are
what make you a good leader. Galena and Elenio understood the
reason for you staying behind and now, you’ve given them a better
chance at defeating Rau in the end.”

“So, you don’t think I should step down?” He
couldn’t help asking as a tiny bit of doubt was starting to eat
away at the corner of his mind again.

“No. You’re exactly where you should be.
Don’t let doubt and pride rule your decisions, for they are poor
advisors indeed.” At these words, Mira began to fade slowly
away.

Tark felt an incredible peace wash over him
as she dissolved. Opening his eyes and searching his room blindly;
the darkness that surrounded him was more profound after being
surrounded by the goddess’ light. He seemed to be back in his bed
and judging by the silence surrounding him, the other elves that he
shared his home with, were also in bed. He reached a hand to his
cheeks and found that they were wet from the tears that streamed
down his face. The peace that filled him remained there as he
recalled everything in vivid detail. It had to have been a dream
though as he was in the same position he had laid down in, but how
did that explain the tears or the peace that he felt now? Had she
carried him off into another world that only was accessible when
one slept? He would never know.

He was no longer unsure of himself and his
ability to lead this group of elves that had bestowed their trust
in him, but now was filled with a sense of gratitude as the goddess
continued to help them in ways he had not imagined. He knew now if
they came across any allies of Rau, they would be ready. He almost
felt sorry for those creatures. Almost.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

It had been weeks since he’d seen his
creator. This, more than anything else, Rau found this unsettling.
The god made it a point to visit him daily, even several times a
day when he had been hunting Galena before. But now, nothing. It
was disturbing. Plus, the reports he was receiving from the narooks
bode ill. Whole groups of elves, not yet working in the mines, were
leaving their villages and had yet to return. He’d known before
they were gathering elsewhere, but now, it was something else to
bother him. With Galena, whole and incredibly powerful, he couldn’t
help but feel threatened. With his lord missing, things were
looking rather grim indeed from his point of view.

Rau felt his grip on the world that he so
carefully constructed, crumbling around him. It was then that he
made the decision to bring all of his dark creatures to Blackwell
and arm them. The feeling that a war was about to break out was
more than an uncomfortable twinge at the back of his mind; it was a
constant screaming that his thoughts continually strayed too. If
those pesky elves wanted to try their luck against him again; he
would appreciate the chance to remind them why he was their ruler.
He would show Mira what he was capable of.

A sense of smugness and pride returned as he
thought of his triumph against the weakling king. He couldn’t even
remember what Lamiria looked like any longer.

Unimportant details,
he thought. He’d
defeated this great race once before and they had been in much
better condition and better trained than they were now. So what if
they were collecting their forces to try to defeat him. He would
show them and this time, he would crush them completely. He’d been
far too soft with them if they even considered trying to overthrow
him.

Rau sat back in his thrown, a feeling of
contentment starting to steal over him. This time his reign would
be something that truly sparked fear in the heart of every elf
until there was nothing left of them. Rau summoned one of his
commanders. He would send a message to all of his forces,
instructing them to return to Blackwell where they would prepare
themselves for the complete destruction of the elves. He smiled,
thinking of what it would be like not to feel their petty little
thoughts and feelings every time they even considered their magic.
It would be a relief in some ways. He would be sorry not to have
the slave labor, but this didn’t bother him. The mines could be a
form of punishment for all the dark creatures that would soon be
all that existed in Tomiro.

General Dak strode into his throne room,
looking determined and wary. He strode right up to his throne and
bowed low on one knee. “My lord,” he said in a deep guttural
voice.

“How long would it take to summon all of my
allies in Tomiro?”

“We could send the crags out my lord. All of
your servants could be here by the end of the week,” Dak replied, a
look of curiosity crossing his face. “Do you wish to leave the
mines and elf villages completely abandoned by your loyal
servants?”

“I wish to bring them all here so that we can
prepare for the final battle against these worthless elves. They’ve
grown too sure of themselves. I deem it necessary to eliminate them
all together.”

A sly grin crept over Dak’s face as he
replied, “A task that all of us would relish in helping you
accomplish, my lord.”

“Then send the crags and begin collecting all
weapons and if need be, fire up the forges and design more weapons
for your use. Before the end of the month is out, we go to
war.”

Chapter
Twenty-Three

Tark woke up to a small face inches from his
own. Feeling startled, he sucked in a breath and pushed his head
farther into the pillow. Once he was able to focus on the whole
face and not just the child’s eyes, he realized it was Quona. The
curious blue eyes blinked at him, but looked unconcerned with
having just startled him out of a deep sleep. Taking another
calming breath in order to return his racing heart back to its
normal rhythm, he smiled at the child who was still bent over him,
inspecting his every facial gestures with a look that displayed her
intense interest.

“Good morning,” he said, clearing his throat
as he did so.

“Morning. Mother said I was to wake you up,
but I didn’t know how to. Mother always sings the wake up song to
me, but I don’t sing so good.” She frowned at this, apparently
thinking about what a terrible voice she must have.

“How old are you?” Tark asked, smiling at the
dissatisfied look on her face.

“Six. But I’ll be seven within the month.”
Her face broke into a giant grin at this and Tark tried to return
the smile, but memories of his own daughter threatened to surface.
How he missed her and her funny little ways. She could always make
him laugh with her wonderment and curiosity of everything she came
in contact with. She made the funniest faces when she was deep in
thought and had an answer for everything. He sighed heavily as the
memories of her washed over him, making him forget the little one
standing by his bed watching him intently once more.

“You miss your family, don’t you,” the little
elf said matter-of-factly.

“Yes, how did you know?” Tark answered,
gentleness and surprise evident in his voice.

“Because you look sad, and like you are
looking at something far away. If I had to be away from my father
for a long time, I would be sad too.”

“You’re right. I have a daughter about your
age, named Silva and I think about her all the time. I miss her so
much my heart aches.” He sat up and reaching over, ruffled the tiny
elf girl’s hair before standing to stretch. “What did your mother
want?” He stood looking over her, realizing just how small she was
as she bent her head back to look at him.

“Messengers from other villages have come
with news. Mother thinks you need to hear about it sooner rather
than later and she said I couldn’t eat breakfast until I got you.”
She planted her hands on her hips before continuing, “So you should
probably hurry up, because I’m about to starve to death.”

At this, Tark burst out laughing. He couldn’t
help it. She looked so surely and cross at that moment, much like
his own daughter when she was vexed about something. His laughter
seemed to have struck a nerve in her, because she crossed her arms
over her chest and began tapping her foot impatiently. This did
nothing to persuade Tark to do anything, but laugh even harder.

In the end, Tark sent Quona ahead to tell her
mother he would be down shortly after he cleaned up a bit. This
seemed to satisfy the little one and she went bounding down the
stairs to her mother, and he was sure, a hot breakfast. Finding a
magical elf downstairs eating his own morning meal, he asked if he
would be willing to fill up his washing basin and heat the stones
so that he could take a quick bath. He wasn’t sure when the last
time he had taken a proper bath and he felt absolutely disgusting.
He laughed silently to himself at the fact that now he felt gross
as opposed to yesterday when he felt perfectly clean. Even his own
mind surprised him from time to time.

He made quick work of cleaning up and
changing into a new pair of breeches and tunic one of the elves in
the village made for him. They were warmer than the current
clothing he owned and in much better condition. The clothes he had
left were repaired so many times that they were now thin enough
that they barely kept out the slightest of breezes.

He combed through his hair and put in back
into a tail, before grabbing the winter coat also made for him, and
headed toward Amrick’s home. He wondered on the way what could be
so important that she couldn’t wait until he normally came over
after his morning meal. He picked up the pace as vision after
vision ran past his mind’s eye, each scenario worse than the next.
Amrick, was by nature, a very calm elf. The most emotions he had
ever seen her display had been when Quona ran off after a torlic
inspection. Since he’d grown to know her, often sharing meals with
her and her family, he realized how scared she had been by that
display of feelings.