Revelation (15 page)

“I wonder what this place must have been like before the cataclysm,” Braden asked. “I imagine it was a wondrous sight to behold, this valley surrounding us.”

“What do you mean?” questioned Lorik. “This wasted land has always been this way.”

“No, friend,” rebutted the dwarf. “At one time this area was supposed to be the most flourishing valley that the world had seen. It was said that the elves lived here, cultivating the region with their powers and filling it with light. Streams would flow freely through groves of forests and fertile fields and all manner of life found their home in the valley. In fact, I had heard when I was young, that the Great King actually first planted one of the Terapan trees in this very place.” Braden paused. “Could you just imagine all that this valley could have produced in the days of peace?”

“As fertile as it might have been, it is that lifeless now,” Lorik observed. “And I have a hard time believing that such a place of death ever produced anything living.” He pointed at the valley below. “Those shimmering pools are merely a reminder that we are on an island in a sea of swirling decay.”

While Braden and Lorik passed the day in friendly conversation, Aaron spent the time wandering around the hill. He navigated the entire perimeter of the castle, only to discover nothing of great significance. It was a grey, dismal keep with little to recommend it to his thoughts. Day transformed into dusk as the sun sank in silent procession. Long tendrils of orange and purple light streamed across the sky, finally giving way to the starlit night and the rising, pale moon.

Aaron stepped back to the edge of the hill and watched as the shimmering water began to increase its reflection of the brilliant moon, so much so that it seemed to transform into a large lake, with small islands dotting the surface.

“Braden, Lorik, come take a look at this.” Aaron said.

The waters of the Waste glistened and shimmered with such iridescence that he was certain it possessed an illumination of its own. Occasionally a thin streak of light swirled far below them, twisting and flowing along some unseen current. It would disappear, and then another would take its place. Pattern after pattern would move in the distance like ghostly ribbons in a rhythmic dance, continually spinning in the eddying currents of the vast watercourse of the Waste.

Braden came up to them, looking down at the twisting lights. “What do you make of it, Captain?”

“I don’t know,” Aaron replied. He was amazed, even spellbound by the swirling lights. The longer he watched, the more they seemed to shimmer and dance. “It must be some trick of the moon reflecting off the water below.” He didn’t know if he even believed that, but he couldn’t grasp a better explanation.

The three men returned to their camp and sat down on some large rocks. The fire provided some comfort but did not take the edge off the chill air that blew across the heights. Aaron nestled into his cloak while Lorik sat closer to the fire. Braden, however, seemed less affected by the cold breeze and was content to sharpen his axe, humming a tune low under his breath.

Aaron thought about the dwarf and realized that, for his limited experience, he didn’t know much about Braden’s people. He looked at his bearded companion, watching him work a whetstone on the blade. “Braden,” Aaron said, “tell me about the dwarves. I know that you are fierce warriors but I don’t know much else.”

“How far back do you want me to go? Dwarf children are taught the stories from the time of awareness until they become adults.”

Lorik interjected. “The time of
awareness
? What is that?”

“It is the time when a dwarf child grows enough to be able to speak and read. At that time, they are said to be able to understand the stories and history of their ancestry. We enlist them in the education programs and begin teaching them about their past and preparing them to become productive members of the community.” Braden was pleased to be able to share, and relished the opportunity.

“Where did your people come from? How did you develop into such a society?” Aaron asked.

“Where we came from is where everyone comes from… from the hand of the Creator.” Braden’s tone was one of perplexity as if Aaron should know that. “As far as how we became the people you’ve seen, well that’s a long story.” He paused and positioned himself to be more comfortable.

“Many centuries ago,” Braden began, “long before you or I walked this earth, my people were little more than cave-dwelling tribes, nomadic and unsettled. We filled the mountain regions of the world and found that we had a skill to work stone and earth. So, to accommodate our needs, my ancestors built caves and tunnels to shelter in and eventually formed small groups, or clans, in order to better protect ourselves. Those clans, however, became warlike, aggressive and difficult to maintain order. It is said that our history was one of great violence as factions fought against each other for supremacy and control of the mountains.

“No one knows how long ago these wars were destroying our people. But, during those days, a stranger came into our land. He was no dwarf and he possessed great power, but he used that power to help us. He spoke of how our aggressive, warlike nature was not our hindrance but our strength, if we had the courage to use our strength for the benefit of all the land of Celedon. He went from clan to clan teaching and leading them to an understanding of brotherhood and friendship, eventually uniting all the clans and forming the great dwarf alliance that still stands today.

“The stories go that he stayed with the dwarves for a generation, teaching and preparing us to become involved with the world outside the mountains. After a generation, we finally discovered that the stranger who came to us was, in fact, the King of Celedon. For the care and courage he possessed and the compassion that he showed, our leaders vowed that the dwarf alliance should have no other king but him. That vow has lasted to this day.

“Anyway, he appointed regents to oversee the alliance and then named Lord Brekken as high regent over the dwarves. Until the Great War which divided the nation and sent all those loyal to the king into hiding, the dwarves enjoyed wonderful relations with the world beyond our borders. Lord Brekken was given a seat at the king’s table, along with the representatives of all the races of Celedon. Lord Brekken stood with the king, and was at his side until the very end. For two hundred years the dwarves welcomed and participated with the world at large. Even after the Cataclysm, Lord Brekken entreated the elves to stand with him against the usurper, wanting to war against those who abandoned the king. They did, but with the king gone, they were unable to overcome the might of the usurper, and Lord Brekken was killed in the battle.

“After that, the next high regent was selected, and we have maintained our realm in hiding. Only a few of your race have ever ventured into our land, and only those who hold to the ancient teachings of the king are welcomed. Now we wait for the time of restoration, when it is said that the king would return and bring back the peace of Celedon and reunite the races of the world.” Braden finished and seemed pleased at Aaron’s interest in his lecture.

“So why, then, do dwarves have such a hatred for the race of men?” Lorik spoke up.

“Because,” Braden said, “it was the race of men who accepted the deception of the usurper. It was men, in alliance with such evil creatures as the trolls, which overthrew the king and destroyed the world. It was men who chose war and suffering over the peace and harmony that was brought to us by the king. And it is men, still, who keep us in hiding.” His passionate response struck Aaron to the heart.

“You must understand,” Aaron said, trying to maintain a calm disposition, “that you’re speaking of things that we know nothing of. What you’re talking about happened a millennia ago, and all the evidence of it being true is just coming to light for Lorik and I.” After a thoughtful pause, he continued. “The thought of my country finding peace within itself, not to mention with the surrounding world, is a fantastic dream. I would welcome the day that we see the border wars end and the entire nation united in mutual agreement.”

“What I know,” Braden continued, “is that there will be no peace in Celedon as long as the usurper continues to sit enthroned as emperor.” With that, Braden finished and began making a small space for himself in order to try and sleep. Aaron took the hint that Braden would offer no more commentary on his understanding of history, and began to arrange a sleeping place.

“Captain,” said Lorik, “do you think we need to post watch for the night?”

“I don’t think it would be necessary,” Aaron said as the weariness of the day began to overtake him. “We’re alone up on this hill and there is no possible way for anyone to have followed our movements.” His thinking, however, was more cautious than his words. “Perhaps,” he continued as he looked over toward the massive stone structure not more than fifty yards from where they camped, “it would be prudent to keep a watch.” Braden was already down, snoring in his slumber. “Lorik,” Aaron asked, “can you keep watch for the next few hours?”

“Certainly!” the sergeant replied. “I’ll wake you when I can’t continue the watch.”

“Three hours, no longer,” Aaron ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Lorik replied. Aaron wrapped his cloak tightly around his body, coveting the warmth of the garment while Lorik took a position just outside the reach of the firelight in order to have a better view of the surrounding landscape.

****

A mist settled atop the hill, rising up from the watery terrain far below. It swirled and drifted in the gentle breeze that blew across the area. Lorik watched as the misty vapor thickened into an absolute fog, heavy and dense. He stood and walked back to the place where Aaron and Braden were sleeping, unable to see them from his current vantage point. The fire was low and the two slept fitfully in the chill air. Lorik sat back down on a rock and watched as the fog thickened even more.

The dense vapor began to rise from all around them, drifting up from every side of the hill on which they camped. He was amazed how the fog possessed an iridescent nature, glowing with a faint, pale-white light that shimmered and rippled in the air. The same twisting patterns they had observed far down in the valley now seemed to swirl and take shape all around the three companions. He didn’t know what to make of it, and thought he saw in the mist the shadowy forms and shapes of people moving through the haze, made of the same substance as the fog itself. Once he drew his sword, thinking that he saw a man coming at him with a mace. Then the image vanished and melted back into the fog.

Anxious, he woke Braden and Aaron.

****

Aaron roused to shimmering lights and drifting, swirling mist. It reminded him of the scene they had observed in the dark waters of the Waste. He was curious, but not fearful of the shapes and forms that appeared then vanished before his eyes. They seemed unable to affect the surrounding landscape, not being any more substantial than the fog itself.

Then the vaporous air thickened even more, causing the three men to choke on the dense mist. They coughed and grasped at their throats, desperately trying to breathe, only to inhale more of the noxious, choking fog. Out of sight, in the direction of the large castle, the sound of grating metal and clanging chains echoed across the hillside… the portcullis raised.

Slowly Lorik, Braden, and Aaron fell to their knees, clutching their throats in futility as the air was now overwhelmed with the heavy fog. They could not escape drowning in the atmosphere that enveloped them. Each one lay on the ground gasping, losing consciousness. Braden was the first to pass out, then Lorik. Last of all Aaron succumbed. Just before he fell, he saw three shadowy forms moving toward them; then all went dark.

6

In the Hall of the Fallen King

Aaron woke as chains clattered and rattled against a stone floor. Severely disoriented, his vision was blurred and his head throbbed with pain, as if it were an anvil being struck by a hammer. The captain tried to clear his thoughts and fight against the confusion. “Who’s there?” he mumbled as he tried to stand but slumped back onto the floor.

“It’s me, Captain,” Braden responded hoarsely.

“What about the sergeant? Is he here?” Aaron whispered against the pain in his head.

“Yes, sir,” Lorik said, his speech slurred. “I’m here.”

Aaron exhaled a sigh of relief, exhausted and feeling as if he had been pummeled. Slowly his eyesight began to clear as the effects of the unnatural fog gradually wore off. All three companions sat chained to a wall. The captain tugged at his restraints only to find them sufficiently secured to the ancient stone of the dungeon. Though rusted, the iron proved quite strong and would not be broken by his efforts.

Above him, through fractures in the ceiling, faint light filtered in through the dusty air. The chamber smelled dank and musty and the cold air only intensified the misery. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dim ribbons of light that filtered in from above and he could see with greater clarity, so Aaron took to examining his surroundings. The pounding headache he suffered, however, roared against the effort.

They occupied a square room, with six iron rings anchored on each wall and no furnishings whatsoever. A small wooden door, rounded at the top, with a barred, undersized window provided the only access in or out of the cell. Aaron’s eyesight cleared even more and he observed along the wall opposite the three companions, the skeletal remains of three others, bound with iron chains, and clothed in tattered garments. Though Aaron couldn’t make out much detail, it was obvious that the remains were once dwarves, judging by their size. The sight shocked him momentarily and brought to his mind a fear that he and the others waited upon a similar fate.

Lorik held his head, occasionally moaning in agony. “Captain,” he spoke softly, “how long do you think we’ve been here?”

“I don’t think long,” Aaron replied, also trying to speak as quiet as possible. “It seems that whatever knocked us out is just now wearing off.” He looked up to the streaming light from the cracks in the ceiling, trying to determine the time of day. “By the looks of it, I don’t think we’ve been here more than a few hours.” Bracing himself as he stood, Aaron tried to move closer to Lorik who was anchored between himself and Braden. The stone was cold to the touch, and the world began to spin as he stood. The clanking noise of his chains brought a groan from both Lorik and Braden.