The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering (36 page)

“What
happened?” Taryn asked, unable to contain himself.

Rake didn't
seem to the notice the interruption, his eyes looking into the past as he
finished his story. “Draeken was chained to the wall, and kept telling Lakonus
that the only way to kill him was to slay the mirror—but the mirror would take
his life return. He claimed victory would be his if he was willing to pay the
price. Lakonus knew people were dying, but he tried everything to beat the
image. It was all in vain. If he tried to cut the illusion, the illusion cut
him, if he blocked the strike, the mirror blocked his strike. Finally he
resigned himself to his fate . . . and slew the copy.”

“He gave his
life?” Taryn asked, stunned.

“The supreme
sacrifice,” Rake said, his head dipping.

For a moment
they sat in silence, and Taryn’s thoughts invariably tackled how to defeat a
mirror of himself.

“May I
finish?” Rake asked, breaking into his thoughts, and Taryn nodded, curious what
else the druid could tell him.

“After the
mirror died, Draeken screamed and faded from view, although the chains were
still there. At that moment, the portal on the outside of the fortress closed
in a violent blast of energy, and every fiend in Lumineia vanished. The war, as
we thought, had been won. I found the Oracle bloodied and close to death. She
had killed thousands of fiends to give Lakonus time. When we returned to the
elves we found the world in chaos. There were so many dead or missing, especially
of the ruling class of the human kingdom, that few knew what to do. In the end
the humans divided, and the elves migrated to the western forests.”

“And built
Azertorn?”

Rake nodded,
“Because Lakonus was raised as an elf, the entire dwarven nation built the city
of Azertorn to honor his sacrifice, or at least that is how history tells it.
Only the king of the dwarves and the queen of the elves knew the truth about
Lakonus.” He fingered his beard, his eyebrows knitting together. “Shortly after
the end of the war, we discovered that the mother of Lakonus had a cousin, a
cousin that had also raised a great hero. The cousin was part dwarf . . . and
Lakonus was not. Lakonus's mother had lied to him, because she wanted him to
have the honor. In the end, both of the heroes lost their lives, one by
sacrifice, the other by the hand of Draeken's assassin.”

Taryn leaned
back in his chair, stunned. So much had happened so long ago, and no one knew
about it except the old man in front of him. A thought crossed his mind and he
asked, “What happened to the Oracle?”

Rake sighed,
“For a while she traveled with me, but when the queen passed on, her successor
mandated that the Oracle never leave her own home. As a final show of defiance
the Oracle said her home was Orláknia, and so that is where she remained. Soon
the vicious war faded from memory into legend, and many began to pass it off as
myth. Since the queen of the elves never told anyone about the truth of
Lakonus, even the long lived elves and dwarves began to forget. I have
collected and studied everything I could to learn more, as the Oracle
instructed me to. She knew you would come and would need my guidance to know
what to do.”

“So she knew
that Draeken would return?” Taryn asked.

“Not at first,
but soon after Azertorn was built she began to sense his life force, weak, but
gaining strength. Then she realized that he had only been imprisoned once more,
trapped for another ten thousand years. It took her many years before she
understood, before she felt the magic that far ahead in time. That is when she summoned
me and told me when I must be here to receive you.”

“But how have
you lived this long?” Taryn asked.

“Dragons live
several thousand years because of their sleeping patterns, but becoming a
Joreia extends your life.” He gave a low chuckle that turned into a cough.
Draining his tea he smiled. “I do believe I am nearing the end of my time in
Lumineia, and will soon pass on.”

“Why don’t you
come and fight with us then?” Taryn suggested earnestly.

Rake gave a
deep belly laugh, and a twinkle sparked in his eye that made him seem younger.
“No my friend, I will leave that to the young. I fear I am past the point of
flight now. However, I will show you and your feline companion a way to the
bottom of the cliff. That climb is treacherous enough to deter most of the
foolhardy. I was told you would make it, but I am still impressed that you did
it during a whiteout.”

“Have there
been others?” Taryn asked.

Israke smirked.
“A great many, in fact, always losing a few in the ascent. Some had honorable
intentions, and those I spared. The others added to my fine collection of
weaponry.”

A pallor had
spread across the old man's' features, and Taryn felt like he should give the
ancient one some peace. "Do you mind if I look at your collection?" he
asked.

"Of
course. I will ready myself to guide you down."

Thanking him, Taryn
stood and left the cottage, moving towards the weapon racks. With his keen eyes
he saw many fine weapons, and drew several to test their balance. Many appeared
to be of exceptional quality, and a few were even enchanted with powerful
magics.

“Ready to go?”
Rake asked and he turned to see the old man dressed in warmer clothes. The
druid smiled, seeing Taryn with one of the weapons in his hand. “After I am
gone, you may return any time you like, and may consider anything in here
yours. If you do return, come and read from the library—or better yet—return
some of them to the elven archives so they can benefit the world."

Taryn promised
that he would and followed the old druid into the corridor that led to the
cliff, with Tigraes padding behind them. Taryn allowed the comfortable silence
to stretch between them, turning his thoughts inward to all that he had
learned. As they approached the opening he began to feel the icy wind on his
cheeks. Turning the last corner, Taryn saw the gaping hole that allowed the
storm to blow snow onto the floor of the great tunnel.

Turning to the
druid, Taryn asked, "Can the mirror be defeated?" He didn't finish the
thought,
without sacrificing oneself
.

Rake's bushy
eyebrows knit together. "I have spent my life puzzling over what Lakonus
could have done differently, but I regret to say I have not discovered the
answer. Perhaps it is your destiny to triumph where he could not."

The words were
insufficient to dispel the knot of dread in Taryn chest, but he thanked him
anyway.

Rake pointed
to a side cave that had been concealed to look like a small alcove, “That leads
to a secret exit at the base of the cliff. After I seal the main entrance it
will be the only way in.”

“But won’t
that trap you inside?” Taryn asked.

Rake smiled,
patting him on the shoulder. “I don’t think I will be needing it, my friend.
Good luck on your quest. I hope you survive.” Without waiting for a response,
Rake turned and ambled back down the corridor. Taryn watched him until he was
out of sight before turning to the large striped cat beside him.

“Well we
learned more than I could have hoped. Let’s get back to the camp,” Taryn said,
stepping onto the wide staircase. Descending he reached the bottom and departed
through a small opening hidden behind a large boulder. Bracing himself against
the furious storm, he started running behind the white tigron.

Before he knew
it, he once again stood in the opening to the small cave where Liri sat on
watch. Before he could say a word of greeting she stalked towards him. She came
to a halt so close he could feel her warm breath on his face.

“You didn’t
even tell me where you were going, Taryn,” she hissed. “What if something
happened to you and I never found out! I could kill you for being so
inconsiderate as to not even tell me—”

He didn't know
why he did it, but he didn't think to second guess the impulse. Taryn’s soft
kiss was only meant to stop her tirade and let her know he was sorry, but she
wrapped her slim arms around his neck and kissed him back. Despite the wind,
tingles of energy flooded his body. The sensation of fire blanketed his skin
and dried his throat. As her mouth moved against his, he began to feel light
headed. Dizzy, he pulled away at the same time she did.

They held on
to each other for a moment, and then he flashed a cautious grin. “That was
unexpected,” Taryn said, and she smirked.

“About time,”
Jack said smugly, and Taryn turned to see everyone standing in the cave
entrance. Trin crowed and the others started to laugh. Even Mae was grinning,
and Taryn felt his face flush. Glancing at Liri, he saw her sheepish smile and
couldn’t help but laugh at himself. As if of their own volition, his hands
reached out and took hers. Her cold fingers intertwined with his, sending
another jolt of lightning through his body.

As the
laughter died down, Taryn sobered and looked at each of their expectant faces
in turn. “There’s a lot I need to tell you.”

Chapter
28: Hunger

Gaze stepped
into the king’s antechamber and tried to rub the weariness and grime from his
eyes. It was the room in which the king had gazed into the prophecy orb, but it
felt like a different place. It felt like another life. Dirt and scattered
papers littered the floor, and in the morning chill the hearth lay devoid of
warmth. Dawn filtered through the windows and cast a dismal light onto the once
bright room, allowing gray shadows to overtake the floor.

“Spooky, don’t
you think?” Anders said beside him, flashing him a half-hearted grin.

Gaze nodded, looking
out a window as if he might spot someone in the deserted city of Herosian, but Prince
Graden had done an excellent job of evacuating the city. By now almost the
whole population of the southern kingdom had departed, abandoning the jewel of
the south to the invaders. From the moment they had approached the city Gaze
had felt out of place. Streets once filled with people were now littered with
trash rustling in the breeze. Doors and shutters hung open and storefronts
still contained molding scraps on the counters. At every turn the evidence of
the rushed departure glared at them, leaving the once bustling metropolis an empty
husk.

“How much time
do you think we have?” Anders said, searching through some papers on his
father’s desk.

Gaze walked to
the east side of the room and looked out another window. In the distance he
could see the massive dust cloud rising from the approaching army. Looking
skyward he saw the distinctive line of dark clouds that followed the army. His
forehead crinkled as he considered that phenomenon. For everything he knew
about magic he could not explain why every piece of sky above the fiends
billowed with darkness, as if the very heavens were blackened by the presence
of the creatures below. The cloud stretched in a distinct line from the lake on
the north, to as far as he could see to the south. On the one hand it allowed
him to mark the army at any time during the day, but it struck fear through his
soul at the host of foes it implied.

“An hour,”
Gaze said, hoping for more, “At best.”

Anders didn’t
reply. Instead he continued searching the desk. Snatching an open letter he
said, “Hey, this is from Graden.” He scanned the document and nodded in
satisfaction. “It says he got everyone out, and wishes us luck.”

“That’s at
least
some
good news,” Gaze said. “Does it say anything else?”

Anders laughed
as he scratched the scruff on his face, “I think so, it’s a few pages long.” He
flashed the sheaf of papers at Gaze before stuffing them into his pouch. “We
can study the note later. I need to keep looking.” Growling, he turned to the
shelves along the wall.

“What are you
looking for anyway?” Gaze said. “All you said was that we had to stop here.”

“Relax,”
Anders said, turning to another shelf. “We’ll be out long before they catch up.”

“I don’t
know,” Gaze said with a frown, his stare returning to the enormous cloud
advancing towards the city. “They always seem faster than we expect.”

Anders paused,
his expression resigned. “If I don’t find it in the next five minutes, let’s go.”

 “Fine, but
what is it anyway? The only reason I agreed to stop was because you said your
father would want you to.” He spun to face to his long-time friend, an apology
on his lips. It was the first time he’d mentioned king Drayson since they had
watched him be killed by the fiend captain.

“It’s OK,”
Anders said, sinking into his father’s chair. For a moment the silence hung
between them, until the prince murmured. “I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

“Me either,”
Gaze said, leaning against the wall as his voice caught. He had to swallow to say,
“I . . . I'm sorry I didn't save him.”

Anders face
clouded in anger, “Don’t take that on yourself, Gaze. He knew what he was
getting into when he took us out there.”

Gaze looked
away, his throat too tight to speak. The king had been like a father to him
ever since he’d met the prince, and losing Drayson had been a stab in the gut.
He couldn’t imagine a world where the wise king didn’t live. Of all the deaths
he had seen, and of every brave soldier he’d watched die, Drayson was the
hardest to bear.

“Do you really
want to know what I am looking for?” Anders said, and when Gaze turned back he
saw that the prince’s expression was wistful. At Gaze's affirmation the prince
smiled. “It’s my father’s favorite ring. It’s just a simple band, but it has an
engraving that was very special to him.”

“What does it
say?” Gaze asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“I honestly
don’t know," Anders said with a shrug, "He always told me that it had
helped him in the bad times as well as the good.”