Thorik stood in the doorway with Avanda, furious at Santorray’s betrayal. It took all of Thorik’s mental fortitude not to scream out his anger as he watched the events unfold.
Two Krupes grabbed Ericc and picked him up off the ground before setting him onto the altar. With the power of the green flames, the stone spider legs came alive and instinctively pulled in, holding the young man down flat on the table.
Santorray kneeled near the shallow pool and performed a ritual to prepare for the sacrifice while Darkmere and Bredgin went back into the prior room as they discussed the ceremony.
Refusing to miss out, Avanda pushed her head farther into the doorway to see what was happening, bumping Thorik’s arm in the process.
Tensing from the pain, Thorik moved to give her room. “Santorray’s weakness is his back. He struggles to see rear attacks until it’s too late,” he whispered as he unsheathed two small blades from his belt and handed one to her. “I’ll take down Santorray while you free Brimmelle and Gluic. Whoever is done first can free Ericc.”
She looked at the small blade. “What if one of us gets caught?”
“Then it is up to the other to free Ericc and escape.”
“But-”
“This is not up for discussion.” Giving her a kiss on the cheek, he winked and said, “I trust you.”
The two Nums ran out of the doorway in different directions, hiding behind the large steaming rocks as they made their way to their targets.
Thorik knew he needed to attack before he was spotted, but he had failed to mention this to Avanda.
Running out from behind a rock she made her way to the elder Nums.
Spotted instantly, Santorray broke off his rituals and sat up straight.
Thorik had to strike before he could alert the others. Charging out from his hiding place, with his bad arm tucked to his side, Thorik leaped at Santorray’s back, hitting his target. His blade cut deep into his shoulder blade, causing the Blothrud to arch back and howl.
Thorik’s body landed hard against Santorray’s back blades, slicing the Num’s face and chest, before he fell to the floor. There was a reason Blothrud weren’t attacked from the rear, and Thorik just found out why.
Santorray reached back and pulled the blade out, releasing a trail of blood down his back, before turning to see Thorik lying on the ground in pain. The Num’s clothes were drenched with his own blood from several deep cuts.
Attempting to crawl away, Thorik was quickly stopped by Santorray. “You’re not going anywhere,” the Blothrud said, reaching down and lifting him by one leg.
Avanda meanwhile had cut Brimmelle and Gluic free, and had run over to release Ericc. But no matter how hard the Nums pulled, the stone spider leg constraints would not budge.
Thorik could see that it was futile for them to continue. “Run! Get out of here.”
Several Krupes were already entering the room to see what the commotion was about. Time for escape was minimal.
Avanda and Brimmelle continued to pull at the legs to free Ericc, while Gluic stood silently smiling at Thorik, happy to see him still alive.
“Run!” Thorik screamed again, realizing that their window of opportunity had already passed.
Krupes now blocked every doorway, while a few entered the room to gather the Nums.
Santorray dropped Thorik near the pool before tending to his own wound.
“Why?” Thorik asked the Blothrud. “I trusted you.”
Santorray pulled a bandage tight to stop his own bleeding. “I told you that trust is not my ally.”
Avanda, Brimmelle and Gluic were quickly captured by the Krupes, who then stood silently at attention as they waited for their master to arrive.
Darkmere entered the room to appraise the situation. The E’rudite’s white clothes and skin didn’t bother the Nums as much as his solid white eyes, for no one could tell where he was looking. “Welcome, Nums. I’m so pleased you could attend our ceremony. Nevertheless, your etiquette leaves something to be desired.”
Overcoming his pain, Thorik sat up in defiance to the dark lord. “I defeated your plot in Weirfortus. I plan to do the same here.”
Darkmere was amused by the strength of Num’s tone. “Defeated? My dear Sec Thorik Dain of Farbank, I’ve been watching you for some time now. Not only was I not defeated, but you made it possible for me to prove that Ambrosius was a war monger when you led him to Pyrth. Then you killed him for me inside the Weirfortus reservoirs while saving my valuable kingdom. And now you have led his son, Ericc, to me just in time for the Eve of Light. I honestly don’t know how to thank you enough.”
Struck with grief, Thorik sat in silence, pondering his actions and response. Darkmere was correct on all accounts. What had he done? How could he have been manipulated so easily?
A chill in the air could be felt as Lord Bredgin entered the main chamber, waiting for orders from his father.
“Bring out Bryus,” Darkmere ordered.
Bredgin walked over to the living stone wall and literally stepped into the mural. Walking deeper into the inch thick stone wall carving, Bredgin opened a door. Inside stood a weather-beaten old man, shivering in his ripped up rags.
Pulling Bryus out through the door, he dragged him out of the wall carvings and into the main room before tossing him against the raised stone lip surrounding the shallow pool, opposite of Thorik’s position.
Bryus had been beaten. Blood dripped from his lips, while bruises covered his exposed arms and chest. Ripped and frayed clothes exposed additional injuries as he leaned over and scooped up some water to quench his severely dry throat.
“It’s time for you to conduct the ritual,” Darkmere said to Bryus.
Bryus looked up at the Nums and then over to the Blothrud. Standing up, the battered man looked down at Ericc’s face. “You have your father’s looks.” His voice was warm and calm before he turned to face Darkmere. “As I’ve told you, I won’t be a part of killing the son of Ambrosius.”
Darkmere nodded to Lord Bredgin, before addressing Bryus. “I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to persuade you to change your mind, so I’ve invited my son here to extricate what we need from you.”
Lord Bredgin opened a small box at his side, releasing a black vapor, which molded into the shadowy form of a faceless man. It was the Wraylov, Civej.
Bryus watched as the thick shadow drifted over to him. Reaching out to push it back, his hands felt only the thickening of cold air. “Keep it away!”
Civej leaned down, grabbing Bryus’ head with both hands.
Bryus screamed in terror as Civej’s fingers worked their way under his skull, probing for thoughts that would allow Darkmere to complete the sacrifice without him. Critical words were needed to ensure it was done correctly. It was all in Bryus’ head, waiting to be extracted.
The end of Lord Bredgin’s staff lit up like a star, before it focused tightly onto Bryus’ forehead. “Give us the words, show us the spell!”
“NO!” Bryus screamed. His body went rigid in pain. His face started to twitch.
Civej reached deeper into his head, pulling his memories and leaving pieces of his mind dead.
Soft at first, a light began to creep through the enormous crystal in the ceiling. The sunlight had been working its way over the Shi’Pel peak, reflecting through a crystal in the outstretched hand of the structure above them, and then down into the room. The Eve of Light soon would begin.
Darkmere motioned to his son. “We don’t have time for this. Take it all from him. Kill him if you must.”
Lord Bredgin pushed harder with the light to access the thoughts that Civej was releasing from the man. “Pull it all. Now! Leave nothing.”
Bryus’ body convulsions erupted from the unthinkable pain. It was only a matter of seconds before he would be dead and Lord Bredgin would have what he needed.
The light from above increased, shining down through the giant crystal in the ceiling, warming the altar as well as Ericc.
“Lux Specere V
ocare Mori,” said Bredgin. “I have extracted the words needed to conduct the sacrifice.”
Santorray acknowledged the phrase and repeated it to himself a few times to memorize it.
Civej pulled his hands back from the man’s head and waited for Lord Bredgin’s next order.
Bryus collapsed on the floor, stiff as board, except for the twitching of his left cheek and eye.
Pointing to Ericc, Lord Bredgin gave new orders to his Wraylov. “Now, find out what he knows before we kill him.”
Ericc panicked. His knowledge of Ambrosius’ friends and hiding places would soon be exposed. The family who had protected him for so many years would be exposed and their lives placed in danger.
Following orders, Civej floated over to Ericc and prepared to strike.
With an unexpected crash, the main doors broke free of their hinges as Grewen and Shrii tumbled into the room. The Mognin was covered with scratches and bite marks as he continued his attempt to restrain the giant panther. They had been in a relentless battle since Thorik and Avanda had left the basement, except for one free moment when Grewen collected their gear and tried to break away. It was short-lived, however, and the attempted escape cost the Mognin large cuts down his back.
Rolling to break free, Shrii pushed Grewen into one of the porous rocks, breaking it in half. Steam burst from a large crack created by the impact, filling the room with a slight haze.
Releasing the cat for a moment, Grewen tossed Thorik his backpack and Avanda’s purse of magic. In doing so, he gave Shrii the upper hand as she pounced on him, knocking him onto Santorray.
Ignoring his personal pain and tucking his broken arm to his chest, Thorik leapt for the items and grabbed his spear from his backpack. In one motion he drove the spear into the floor, setting off a shock wave that knocked everyone off their feet, except Civej.
Tossing Avanda her purse, Thorik was required to free his hand from the spear, for his other was still useless.
The Wraylov quickly moved and attacked Thorik before he could regain his weapon. With full ferocity, Civej drove one hand deep into the Num’s chest and the other into his skull.
Tremendous pain exploded within the Num as every part of his body convulsed from the attack. The encounter was brutal and could not be withstood for long.
Shrii attacked Santorray as well and Grewen, for she liked neither. In doing so, she caused the Blothrud and Mognin to work together to stop her assault.
As they fought, Santorray focused more on protecting the dagger Varacon instead of slaying the giant panther.
Brimmelle ordered his family to escape during the distraction, as he began to run for the main exit with them.
Avanda reached for her purse, instead of running, and began casting spells, causing Krupes to freeze in place before they could grab the Nums. This opened a momentary path for Brimmelle and Gluic to escape.
Brimmelle reached the main doorway as he noticed his mother was no longer with him. She had stopped to help Ericc. Thorik on the other hand was in the final moments of life as the young man reached out to Brimmelle for help, just as Brimmelle’s sister did several years prior. But the Fir had no way to stop Civej. The creature was too powerful, and to run back into the room ensured both of their deaths. He looked upon Thorik’s face as he once did his sister’s before he watched her death, dreading his options.
Gluic reached the altar. “It’s time,” she said to Ericc.
Ericc struggled to move. “Gluic, pull this amulet off me. It’s preventing me from using my powers to help.”
As she tried to do so, the table’s spider legs tightened, preventing her from being able to move the amulet and chain over his head.
While she continued in her attempt to pull the legs back from Ericc, the light from the crystal in the ceiling continued to increase, intensifying its light on the altar.
Avanda turned her attention to Lord Bredgin and Darkmere with a volley of fiery rain, and spells of freezing temperatures.
The illusion of fire didn’t faze either of them, and light from Bredgin’s hand melted her frost spell before it could reach them.
Darkmere, on the other hand, easily altered the air around Avanda into a poisonous gas, causing her to stop her spells and gasp for air.
Meanwhile, Brimmelle could not allow the memory of Thorik’s death to forever haunt his days. Pushing away from the doorway, he rushed over. Reaching Thorik, he tried to push Civej off his nephew, but his hands slid right through the shadowy form. Civej’s attack could not be stopped, so instead, Fir Brimmelle positioned himself between the Wraylov and Thorik in an attempt to save his sister’s child.
Civej changed victims and began his assault on Brimmelle with the same tactic he was using the Thorik. The same results occurred as Brimmelle went into seizures.
Thorik began to revive from the torture and realized that Civej was hovering over Brimmelle. His uncle had saved his life. But by doing so he jeopardized his own. Thorik couldn’t allow this to happen.
Rolling to his side, and on his broken arm, Thorik yelled in pain as he grabbed the Spear of Rummon with his free hand and then used it to pierce the shadowing form.
The heat and flame of the dragon’s soul extended past the metal of the spear and into the Wraylov, vaporizing it in a series of wisps as they broke free from the creature’s dark center.
The blood-curdling scream from the shadowy beast resonated against everyone’s body.
The darkness then faded away. Civej was no more.
Furious, Bredgin held up his staff, focusing an intense light directly at the Num.
Still holding the spear, Thorik held up his broken arm to block the light, only to find that its strength was so intense that Thorik could see right through his own flesh, allowing him to see the broken bone beneath the surface. The burning of his skin could be felt on his face and arm as the light narrowed its width and focused its energy.
Thorik turned his back to the light, only to feel the heavy pressure on his shoulders pushing him down to the ground. Twisting back around he released the Spear of Rummon to attack the attacking lord.
Rummon took flight directly at Bredgin’s head. A battle cry came forth from the spear as it flew through the air.
The power of the sun paled in comparison to the light from the end of Bredgin’s staff. The light hit the spear with such force that it knocked the embedded soul of the dragon unconscious. The spear fell to the floor as any other metal rod would, for its power had not been enough to take on an E’rudite.
Around the altar, an intense light from above created a cylinder of white so bright it could not be seen through.
Darkmere ensured that Avanda would perform no additional spells as she fell to the floor, gasping for air. “Santorray! It is time for the sacrifice.”
On the far end of the room, Shrii broke free of Grewen again and leaped at Santorray, pinning him under her. The Blothrud had had enough. Reaching behind him, he grabbed a large chunk of rock, which had broken free during their battle, and slammed it into the cat’s head. Knocked out, the panther fell onto the Blothrud.
Shocked at the failure of the spear’s attack on Bredgin, Thorik didn’t know how to react until he saw the light of Bredgin’s staff move toward him. Diving out of the staff’s focus, Thorik tucked in his broken arm, rolled to his feet, and ran into the living wall mural. Although the carvings were only inches deep, he has able to move around inside the mural, for it had its own magical depth. Once there, he dove behind a carved boulder.
Bredgin turned in pursuit, following the Num into the stone landscape. Staff in hand, he exploded the carved scenery with intense light as he quickly went deeper into the wall, searching for the Num.
Thorik backtracked and leaped out of the mural. In doing so, he ran to the copper vat of flaming oil. Slamming his body against it, he caused it to fall.
The vat tipped over and landed upside down in the pool, extinguishing the green light, which was keeping the wall mural alive.
The mural froze in mid motion as a distant cry echoed from within it. Lord Bredgin was trapped.
Darkmere was startled by the scene of his son becoming trapped in the rock wall. Releasing Avanda, the dark lord turned to the mural and touched it with flat palms. “What have you done?”
The fierce white column of light from above made it difficult for anyone within a yard of the altar to see anything.
Free from the panther, Grewen saw his opportunity and made his way over to the altar. Feeling around inside the column of light he found the altar’s restraints. He quickly began snapping off the table’s spider legs to free Ericc.
Santorray raced over and attacked, hitting Grewen with his entire body, knocking the Mognin backward and off his feet. Grabbing the virgin dagger, the Blothrud rushed back to the table to finish the job while the light was still strong.
Keeping his eyes shut to protect them from the overpowering light, Ericc removed the amulet from around his neck. It had been preventing him from using his unique abilities. He was now free to show everyone what E’rudite powers he had and to take vengeance on the man who was responsible for his parent’s deaths.
But without warning, Varacon, the virgin dagger, was thrust forward by Santorray, piercing the flesh for the first time. Never had it tasted blood or felt the warmth of the inside of a body. Varacon was finally alive, at the cost of another’s life.
“Lux Specere Vocare Mori,” Santorray shouted from within the curtain of light.
Stepping back from the column of light, Santorray’s hand was now stained with blood, his dagger no longer virgin.
A momentary flash illuminated the room as the column of light took on a nearly solid form, pulsing like a heartbeat against the altar and the surrounding area.
As fast as it had begun, the pulsing ended and the column of light returned to normal, still bright within a yard of the table.
The silence that followed was almost deafening.
Santorray lifted the bloody dagger, showing Darkmere the deed had been completed.
“The prophecy has finally come to an end,” Darkmere stated with a sigh of relief, hands still resting on the mural he was trying to revive to save his son. Without the aid of the Notarian flame, it was questionable if even Darkmere could perform this task.
“No!” screamed Thorik. He had failed to keep his promise to Ambrosius. He had failed to repent for sentencing Ericc’s father to death. He had failed a new friend as well as himself. Ericc had been sacrificed.
Brimmelle had regained consciousness enough to see the raised bloody dagger. “Never trust an Altered,” he muttered.
Then the room suddenly began to shake. Cracks appeared in the walls, widening and dropping chunks of debris to the floor. Lord Bredgin was attempting to escape the solid rock he was encased in.
Darkmere’s focus on saving his son increased. Fractures raced out from his hands, as he pressed them hard against the wall. Blocks from the upper walls began to fall, and the crystal in the ceiling was knocked out of its holder, ending the column of light before it fell and crashed down in front of the altar.
Shards shattered in every direction, as the Nums jumped for cover. Santorray and Grewen turned their back to the crash, allowing the fragments to embed in their back instead of their front.
With minimal focus, Darkmere turned the crystal pieces into water before they hit him. His attention was on freeing his own son. He would deal with the Nums later.
Returning to his feet, Thorik grabbed the Spear of Rummon and headed to the altar to collect Ericc’s body before the rest of the roof collapsed. But to his astonishment, Ericc’s body did not lay on the altar soaked in blood from the Varacon dagger. Instead, Gluic’s body lay in his place.
“What have you done?” Thorik screamed at Santorray.
“Mother?” Brimmelle screamed in horror, racing over to her.
Santorray’s eyes grew wide, exposing his astonishment at the accident. The blood dripping off his dagger was that of the old Num instead of the young man. “What? This can’t be!”
Ericc appeared out of nowhere, just behind Darkmere. A blade in his hand, he stabbed the thin man in the back.
Shocked, Darkmere fell forward against the wall mural. He hadn’t anticipated this. However, he wouldn’t submit easily.
Reaching behind him, Darkmere grabbed his attacker’s hand and used his powers to burn the boy’s skin. By the time the dark lord had turned to see who his attacker was, Ericc was gone.
Ericc had vanished, but he reappeared behind Darkmere again, stabbing him a second time with his blade, this time below his shoulder blade.
Expanding from the wall mural, a veil of darkness covered the area as Bredgin attempted to crumble the wall from within. In doing so, he unintentionally surrounded Darkmere and Ericc in the deep shadows as well.
Darkmere fell onto the ground from Ericc’s assault as well as his son’s darkness sucking his life from him. He could overcome the dark but he doubted his attacker could. Rolling onto his side, he changed the air between him and the wall into poisonous gas, hoping to prevent his assailant from escaping the dark dread.
Ericc choked from the poison and vanished again, this time appearing near the altar. Grabbing a fallen piece of ceiling block, he threw it into the dark void, hoping to hit the Dark Lord.
Momentarily suppressing his grief of Gluic’s death, Thorik turned to Ericc. “We need to get out of here before the entire building comes down on us.”
However, Ericc had only one thing on his mind, and that was revenge.
The shaking of the floor woke Bryus from his earlier attack. He gathered what thoughts he still had, stood up, and then stumbled about as he made his way for the exit. Several Krupes had arrived and blocked his path. A quick wave of his hand and some verbal commands set off a spell which caused every Krupe in the room to scream in pain as they attempted to cover their ears.
“Avanda, follow him while the Krupes are occupied,” Thorik yelled, pulling Brimmelle off his mother. “There isn’t much time, we need to flee.”
“I’m not leaving mother in this unholy place.”
“Save yourself and Avanda,” Thorik ordered as he pushed Brimmelle from the scene before waving the giant over. “I’ll get Ericc while Grewen carries Gluic.”
Brimmelle looked up to make sure the Mognin was on his way before grabbing Avanda’s hand and racing for the exit.
Thorik tossed his pack over a shoulder and moved to grab Ericc. But before Grewen could reach Gluic, a large section of ceiling fell onto her body, crushing it and sending rock fragments in every direction.
Several pieces hit Thorik, knocking him to the ground. By the time he regained his footing, Ericc had disappeared and Grewen was lifting the large stone off Gluic’s body. To Thorik’s horror, her torso had been crushed. She was beyond all hope.
The sight etched itself into Thorik’s memory. She had always been there for him. Her healing ways went beyond her abilities with stones and crystals. She had given him so much and had advised him so often that he didn’t know how he could go on without her.
As hard as it was, his emotional tribute to his grandmother would have to wait. More ceiling sections began to fall as Thorik waved Grewen instructions to leave his dear grandmother’s body and escape while he still could.
Thorik wasn’t even sure if he would have time to exit as the room crumbled apart. But he had to look one last time for Ericc. And there he was, on the far side of the room, beyond the heavy dust and falling debris, being held captive by Santorray.
“Santorray!” Thorik screamed in anger as he began to charge toward them. But his movement was stopped by a section of the wall giving way, falling on top of Ericc and the Blothrud, covering their bodies with several feet of stone blocks. They, like his grandmother, had been crushed.
Thorik knew he didn’t have time to move the fallen wall even if Grewen was still in the room to help him. “I’ve failed”, he said to himself as the other walls began to give w
ay. “What have I done?”
Rushing to the exit, he stopped for one look back to see some signs of life from Ericc, but instead he saw more rock crumble down from above.
Reluctantly, Thorik finally raced down the stairwell, quickly catching up to his group as they returned to the first floor.
The skeletons in the walls and ceiling swayed back and forth from the collapsing building, many of them falling onto the floor.
Grewen hunched over to block the majority of the debris from falling directly onto the Nums as they ran for safety. Blocks pounded hard against his back as the building structure’s entrance was beginning to cave in.
Running across the large main foyer, time was not on their side. Blocks plummeted in front of the exit, far too fast to dodge while making an escape.
Grewen pushed his way forward. Bending over, he made a safe area for the Nums to pass, while his back took the beating of his life as he held up the doorway.
Brimmelle helped Avanda under Grewen and over the fallen blocks to safety. The two Nums rushed over across the open courtyard to where Bryus stood, watching the structure collapse in upon itself.
As Thorik moved under Grewen, the doorway’s keystone snapped and the structural wall fell upon Grewen’s shoulders. He was trapped, and so would Thorik be if he didn’t leap out to safety.
“Jump, Grewen!” Thorik tugged on the giant’s arm.
Grewen’s legs trembled from the weight. His back cracked as he moaned from the pain. “Get away from the building,” Grewen said in a deeper than normal voice.
But Thorik refused to leave, even as the upper levels began to rain down on the courtyard outside. “No, I’m not losing you again.”
Grewen knew this Num far too well to argue with him, so instead, the Mognin removed one hand from his knee long enough to swat the Num out into the courtyard, and out of danger.
Thorik rolled to a stop before looking up to see his dear friend hold the doorway open long enough to say goodbye.
Grewen released the blocks on his shoulder, allowing them to collapse on him.
“Grewen!” screamed Thorik.
As the blocks fell down on him, Grewen was propelled out of the doorway and into the courtyard. Santorray, who had slammed his own body up against the Mognin’s backside, had pushed him out.
Grewen and Santorray rolled across the yard to a safe distance from the building.
Thorik rushed over to Santorray and pointed his spear to the Blothrud’s head. “I don’t know if I should thank you for saving Grewen or kill you betraying Granna and Ericc. Perhaps both.”
Santorray brushed the dust and debris from his face as he growled. “You fool! You nearly ruined everything!”
Chapter 40
Truths Revealed