Esmond Waye was the first to come to his senses. His ears rang and vision seemed to fade in and out as he began to lift his head from the cold concrete floor. His vision finally began to gain confidence as he looked toward where the King had been standing, but this only allowed foggy dismay to sweep over him as his eyes relayed the message to his head. Standing now, Egoth the orc seemed visibly frustrated and in some sort of pain, rubbing his eyes, blinking wildly, and repeating. Mouth fully ajar, Esmond could not yet make out the groaning and cursing the orc bellowed as he attempted to regain his sight. Esmond’s head seemed to buzz to the tune of a thousand high-pitched mosquitos.
Looking over to the large double door began to give reason to the current riddle; the brace he had been on track to remove performed admirably in its attempt to bar the unwanted, holding a majority of the double door closed and at least four hinges on either side in place. But the beast was able to muscle through the bottom section of the door, uprooting the door from the floor and creating a gap no larger than two feet high, a large cat door successfully installed. As Egoth tossed and spun in agony, the orc came into Esmond’s line of sight once again, revealing more details he had missed prior. The most peculiar was the blood coming from the orc's back, a result of ripping through the door frame.
Wait, blood? Was it blood from the walls? Esmond couldn't convince himself of this, as the agitated red around where the blood trickled down the orc’s back suggested real damage. But how could Egoth be hurt on this isle…
Esmond’s analysis went cold and still as his eyes finally found the King. No glance was made in return, for the King had nothing to glance back with. Esmond imagined wild ferrets, coons, and rats all happy and full with their savory snack, as he had seen many times these animals leaving their corpses in such a manner.
The King is dead. The thought seems to wade in an ocean without waves, without sounds, and without the sense of land or scenes for hundreds of miles. The King is dead, the King is dead. As repercussions formed, so did dark clouds in the mind’s eye of Esmond’s head. Thunder roared as the sound of Egoth’s latest burst of frustration became clear to Esmond, and lightning struck in the form of the staff.
From his lying position, Esmond attacked with a direct blow to the side of the head that caused Egoth to stumble back, heel meeting his deceased target as the orc tripped and fell over the King's body. The impact was impressive, as nearly four hundred pounds of orc met solid concrete, a trickle of dust fluttering from the ceiling in his wake.
“You vile monster!” Esmond yelled as he got to one knee, the staff retracted now in his hand, “You’ve cursed us all! The world will rue-”
“Fuck your world!” Egoth yelled, an echo coursing through the hall, “Fuck your King! Fuck your diamond! AHHHH why is everything so blurred!” Egoth was already getting it to his feet before Esmond could manage for the first time. Esmond’s rage and action stuttered in its urgency as his hand touched liquid on the back of his head, his eyes momentarily alarmed by the sight of his own blood.
“How did you kill him? How were you able to?” Esmond asked as he looked to regain composure.
“How? HOW? You dirty rat can’t see either now can you?”
Esmond could see just fine, though he may have wished he could forget the sight, “I see you must’ve buried your fists into him hundreds of times, but that doesn’t explain how.”
Egoth let out a burst of laughter, “You see him, you see me. My fists were much stronger than his skull, you do the goddamn math from there you donkey.”
“We were never injured before, couldn’t cut or bleed or feel anything for that matter. But now…”
“OH, I get it. I guess I haven't been able to talk it through with anyone, nor would I try something as foolish as trying and injuring myself. But I knew I could feel no pain, no thirst, and only a hunger for REVENGE!” Egoth started at Esmond in full-on charge, but Esmond was quick to rebuttal. Slicing downward through the air in a semi-circle, Esmond extended the staff precisely at the last moment to meet the large feet of the ogre. Sweeping through, Egoth once again was uprooted from the ground and tossed onto his side with another noisy thud only a yard from where he began his attack.
Esmond was panting with exhaustion, something he hadn’t felt since coming to the isle, and was clearly still losing blood from the spot on the back of his head. But he also had another feeling that had felt lost to him; visible prey right for hunting.
“If we can die, I insist on you next!”
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As the eight members of the eleven who were not engaged or killed in battle groaned and attempted to clear the blurry stars forming in their sight, the positioning of their backs towards the diamond proved to be the difference. While Egoth had chillingly laughed in their direction, facing and looking at the diamond as it had grown to be as bright as the sun gave ample reason to his inability to see clearly. There was no head injury sustained like Esmond had either, though the blow was timely as his eyes did not need adjusting, and so all around Simon and Catina were both the sounds of their struggling peers complaining, and the confrontation between Esmond and Egoth.
“Gods, what has happened!” A new voice introduced itself to the hall, one belonging to Ashton of the house Underhill, in a more accusing rather than questioning tone.
“The King!” Modesto began, “We must help the King!” In the blind confusion, Modesto tried feverishly to get his sight back in working order, though his feet had no time to wait as he staggered to the direction Egoth and the King had been located.
“Modesto no! The King can not be helped!” Another voice, a female voice, chimed pleadingly at Modesto. Skyla Truemane was blinking wildly, eyes watering yet only one more swipe of her robe’s sleeve would be necessary for her to regain most of her vision. Her eyes, a ghostly green color, flashed around the room to survey the scene before falling on Catina’s. Catina too had just broken the spell of blindness, and either woman allowed a brief connection and understanding to be made before darting for Modesto.
“He can! He must! We mus- Hey!” It was Skyla who broke Modesto’s sentence, as the woman flashed impressive quickness as she ran and slid on a knee, tripping the slender man into her arms and popping back up in a single motion. Catching a glance at the fight between Egoth and Esmond, the two circling around the King’s body in anticipation of the other striking, it was Catina’s turn to impress. Launching herself horizontally, both legs first, Catina caught Egoth by surprise as she connected with the right knee of the orc.
Shit! It didn’t break! Catina had been sure she landed accurately and with enough force to break the knee, although she had underestimated the frame of the strongest orc to live. The effort was still well worth it, as Esmond made use by landing a sweeping blow to the left cheek of the orc. The two opposing forces sent the orc off his feet, falling again on his right arm.
“That’s it!” Skyla said, now cradling the older and light Modesto as she headed toward the diamond and away from the fight.
“AHHH! You’re all going to- AH!” Attempting to get up resulted in a high and heavy blow to the back of the head by Esmond, sending the orc's teeth first into the concrete floor. This gave time for Catina to back off, though she wasn’t leaving Esmond to fight alone. Her right hand outstretched in front of her, palm to the ceiling, and left hand balled in a fist on her hip, she took her fighting stance.
“You must get the others out of here Catina! If we use the staff to bar the other double door we can buy some time!” Modesto was either seriously injured, exhausted, or both. Catina saw the sweat trickling down from his bald forehead.
“We can defeat him together Esmond! Then figure out the rest!” Catina didn’t allow Esmond to give a retort, as she moved deftly yet cautiously to where the orc currently laid still. Esmond’s calm demeanor allowed a hint of a smile, as he brought the staff up and down again aiming for Egoth’s head.
This blow would miss though. No human could pull off the maneuver, even those as skilled in combat as Catina, as the orc went from seemingly docile to rolling on one side, missing the blow as it connected with the ground. Esmond altered the staff's direction, sending a stabbing shot at the orc’s new position. But Egoth was relentless, rolling back and evading the second strike as well. The staff didn’t have time to retract as Egoth sprang and grasped the staff, which was now shaped in a half square at least five feet in length on both fronts.
Esmond’s eyes widened in dismay, “Damn you beast!”
Egoth’s smile was wicked, though white teeth could not be seen in the blood and gore that was his mouth and gums, “You’re the damned one!” The orc, now in a kneeling position with the extended rod in hand, spun on his knee with incredible speed. Esmond reacted to the move far too late, as his own grip to the rod sent him off his feet and through the air. Whipped from the ground, Esmond could not hold on to the rod, nor would the effort change the outcome. His grip slipping, Esmond was flung through the air, a blur until the point of contact with the adjacent wall of the hall. The crash his body made was like thunder, and the wind ripped from his lungs the lightning in the echoing hall. Esmond concluded his journey with another thud to the ground, where he lay motionless. The staff was now missing from Egoth’s hand.
“Esmond no!” Catina yelled, making an attempt to dash toward Esmond.
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“Not so fast!” Egoth was up and on her in a hurry, meeting Catina halfway where Esmond lay still and deftly grabbed her hair as it fanned behind her, stopping Catina in her tracks. “I have you now you-” Catina had been prepared for her hair to be grabbed, as a woman training for fights without regulations should. Catina had always fancied practicing such moves against cheapskates, as she realized early that the path that leads to the top would be filled with them. Losing her forward momentum, Catina dug both heels in the ground as Egoth planned to yank her hair back, and carried this new momentum into a direct headbutt to the lower jaw of Egoth.
Losing the grip on Catina’s hair, the trauma to Egoth’s mouth in the short minute of action was more than enough to send the orc into a wailing sort of frenzy. The orc fell onto his backside, both hands meeting his mouth in an attempt to quell just a tiny percentage of the pain exploding in that area. Eyes unable to stop watering, pools of blood formed in the palms of the orc, where teeth twice the size of a human’s bobbed like ships.
The moment should have been enough for Catina to make it to Esmond, but she too was finding it hard to stand. Her feet had not failed her, no they had tried their best to stagger in the correct direction, but her mind swam with a faulty sense of balance too much to overcome. On a human, the jaw-breaking should have helped ease the force she would feel in the aftermath of sending a blow as she did. But on an orc, no such luck could be found. Catina drunkenly fell to one side.
The fall could have resulted in another blow to the head, one that would either leave the now vincible and concussed Catina in a dire situation. Instead, her side met the lap of Simon. Sliding on both knees, the boy was able to cushion Catina’s fall. Her body limp but eyes darting madly under her eyelids, Simon had carefully procured the situation before diving into the middle of the fight. He knew this was the only opportunity.
“Skyla, the door!” Simon yelled, getting to a knee to pick up Catina in his arms before realizing that this may be tricky business. Catina was a grown woman, while Simon was skin, bones, and no muscle. I’ll have to drag her! The window of time was closing, and Simon had already made up his mind. He had to save Catina, while Esmond was already as good as dead.
“Everyone hurry!” Skyla’s voice rang from the other side of the door she was currently closing, leaving only one of the double doors they had come from open. The group, Harlan Pressleye, Lyndon Barnete, Aston Underhill, and Modesto made haste as they went to escape the room. But it was Modesto, whose face spelled out loss, who lost momentum as he passed the diamond and made eye contact with the plaque the King had tried to inscribe the third wish. What was dismay over the loss of life quickly evolved into a look of fear.
Skyla, closing the door and securing the first of the three bars on the inside part of the hall, saw the old man lose speed and come to a dead man’s walk and quickly moved to drag him in as well. Passing on the right side of the diamond as Simon dragged Catina in the opposite direction, Skyla grabbed Modesto by the wrist and made eye contact with Egoth at the same moment.
Egoth was blood from chin to chest, spitting out solid globs of red in a pile of gore near his feet. He was increasingly aware that those remaining were escaping. Or so they think, the orc mused as another tooth dislodged itself easily with the contact of his tongue. He spit this out too, before allowing his eyes to fall on Esmond.
Esmond, heaving and coughing in the air as he tried to regain coherent consciousness, was becoming increasingly aware of his dire state; he could not seem to move anything. His legs were under him, but he couldn’t quite tell how their status was under the dark robe. Shock and horror tried to breach his mind as no signals seemed to be relaying from his brain to his legs, nor to his fingers. The staff, retracted now, had come back to him, as it always had. It was the way with such items; the owner of any of the first materials could never lose their item, with stealing, forgetfulness, or even destruction proving useless. He had lost his grip on the staff, yet a moment later so did Egoth as its existence found Esmond where he now lay.
Esmond could not even move his fingers, let alone grip the staff that lay between his palm and the concrete floor. The twisting of his neck seemed to be the last action his body allowed, and allowed him to see Egoth approach; feet slapping wetly over spotted blood, the small yet sufficient sound of blood pattering the ground like drops of rain from the torso of the orc’s body, and a wildness burning in his eyes that read flickered between victory and lunacy.
“Esmond fucking Waye,” The orc started, before pausing and eyeing the corpse of the King, which he deemed necessary to land another crunching stomp into its unresponsive chest cavity, “Your King is dead. You are a dead man whose new fate is already sealed. You must see this too, don’t you.”
“W-why, orc?” Esmond couldn’t seem to find his voice, only this shrill sound of wind that whispered out of him.
“Because you humans had the second wish. Now I will wait to claim the third. I’ve waited over sixteen years for today, and I intend to wait again. I will make things right for the lives of us non-humans.”
“Yo-you don’t even kn- know if that is truth.”
“And you don’t know that it is false. But enough of this Esmond, the time for talk is over. It is too late to reclaim what has been done today. May all brave the darkness to fall.” Egoth was a step away now, his huge body looming powerfully over Esmond. Another attempt to grip his fingers to the staff proved useless, and Esmond saw now that he was out of time. “Now, give me the staff, Esmond Waye. Proclaim it for the Gods to hear.”
“Do not hurt the others orc, let them be and the staff will be yours.” Esmond looked up at Egoth, his eyes remaining hard and unpleasing, though his voice hadn’t followed suit.
“Hurt them? It’s a pain I had to hurt even you Waye. I knew it would come down to it, with your retaliation and ability obvious, but I didn’t want to. With less care, I could have killed Catina in a single strike you know, but I didn’t. The more of you I kill, the more I will have to wait on to find the isle. Patience may be a virtue, but there is great pride to be found in getting a goal accomplished. So to your offer, I humbly agree.” The orc eased a bit now, folding gigantic arms over one another, sneering comically at the fallen Esmond.
“Goals are commendable...very much so,” Esmond began, his mind drifting far from where he was now in space and time, to a time long ago where he had truly lived a life worth living, “the true wood, and all its power, is yours to keep and yours to give away as you see fit, Catina Harewell.”
“NO you filthy human!” In a flash, the ease was gone from Egoth. Lifting his right foot, the force brought down on the skull of Esmond was enough to actually send a shock through the hall. No more words were to be uttered from Esmond Waye, and Egoth panted in growing frustration as he lifted the body from the floor, spun on a heel, and whipped the sack of flesh with chilling ease at the adjacent wall, just missing the double doorway the eight escaped from, and where a misshapen Esmond performed his final slide to the ground.
Rage produced heavy breathing from the orc, whose vision seemed to not have the option to focus anymore. He had been wounded by those who buried his bloodline, and years of dreams and schemes to one day kill those who treated him like a monster seemed to pile on top of his frustration. Egoth had always known though, that while his anger and bloodlust were best suited for the humans and elves, the true culprit had been the Gods or the Devils who left the diamond’s power up for scum and sinners to use as they see fit. Turning to the shape that had to have been the diamond, Egoth would soon find a level of fury in that he had not known was possible, as the Diamond gave no warning in its ascending and blinding glow. For the second time, Egoth cried out in anguish.
In the moments leading to and during Esmond's final confrontation, Simon helped Skyla fasten the third bar on the now sealed doorway. The hallway still glowed in a bright red as the eight of them huddled closely to the door, breathing as silently as possible as Egoth began speaking. They had been unable to make out Esmond’s last words, but they heard and felt the first drop of the orcs foot. Feet shuffling away from the door, faces grimacing as the stomping from the other side of the door turned splattering wet. The orc must’ve been content in the red paint he used to coat his foot, calf, floor, and a bit of wall as the stomping halted and screaming started.
Aluin knelt by the lying Catina, where he had torn a fraction of his sleeve to use as a head wrap for Catina’s injury. Aluin would soon be the first to become aware of what was now hidden in her sleeve and held in the right hand of Catina, as the long and elegant fingers of the woman held firmly to the staff of Woods. The rest of the elders, the four that were neither unconscious like Catina nor helping like Simon and Skyla had formed a circle as they traded looks of despair and talked a wordless conversation of hopelessness. A quiet sob echoed lightly, produced by Modesto.
Simon and Skyla backed away from the double door, observing the job they had done. This door did not rival the larger doorway Egoth had been trapped behind, and they had been lucky for it. While Skyla nearly matched Catina in height, Simon’s own fell a few inches short, and without the help of Esmond the third beam would have been impossible if the doors had been identical. Skyla had struggled mightily with placing the highest of the beams, where attempting to hoist the beam over her head proved to almost kill her in one of her awkward attempts. Simon had seen her struggling, and after putting Catina in the care of Aluin, quickly turned to help. Doubts about Simon’s strength were never properly answered in Skyla’s mind, as Simon took over with the beam; placing the beam on the ground to one side of the door, Simon picked up an end and walked down the length of the beam, allowing for the beam to stay grounded on one side as he brought the rising end to the metal holders of the door. Skyla saw the genius and moved to push from the grounded end as the beam successfully slipped in place, requiring a great deal less exertion than she had planned.
The two were still staring, unable to break from what was their last impulse. They hadn’t been able to save the King, nor Esmond, but they had saved the eight in the room currently. They had shut and barred the double door, allowing for no more death as the result of confronting Egoth. And now, they both feared they had nothing more to do.
“Simon, what do we do now?” Skyla found herself struggling to catch a good breath as her heart seemed to beat out of her chest, a feeling she hadn’t felt in over sixteen years. The effort, stress, and anxiety still to come from not knowing what to do seemed to strangle her, and while she would struggle later with wondering why she expected the answer to come from the youngest of the eleven, her fears needed somewhere to displace itself.
Simon turned from the door, allowing his eyes to fall on Catina, her chest lightly rising and falling in the red hue, then to Aluin, whose lips moved quickly through prayers in elvish, a language lost to all excluding him. Simon moved on to the four elders, where four sets of eyes seemed to sense and meet him with deer-like emptiness. Finally, Simon allowed his eyes to focus on nothing while he listened carefully, focusing on the sounds past the doorway. More agitation and grunting from the orc as he stormed the room, and Simon shivered wickedly as a louder sound seemed to smack the wall to the right of their doorway. His eyes focusing back in, Simon saw the trembling hands of Modesto try to comfort one another as the sound made could only have been a body, or body part, flying through the room.
Simon came to a conclusion; he didn’t know what was next. And this excited him greatly, “I think this is part of our fate Skyla. We need to replace the two we have lost, or we will never be able to write the third wish.”
Skyla did not respond right away, and when she turned to respond she found the elder group much closer than they had been and a new voice entering the hall.
“Just now, there was a surname inscribed in the diamond,” Lyndon Barnette, whose days as a fierce knight were stolen decades prior, informed Simon, “The diamond tells us who we need.”
Simon’s excitement was real, nearly surreal, yet he had to hide his true feelings as mourners surrounded him, “After the blinding light, yes? What was the name?”
“It seems our beloved King Whitewood still has a live bloodline to this day. The name was Elanor, Elanor Whitewood is exactly what was written.”
Modesto would not allow silence to swallow them as a burst of emotion came from him, “God be good, God be good! The Whitewood family lives on!”
“Wait Modesto, don’t celebrate this. Esmond is dead, what about the second name?” Simon asked with a look of exaggerated bewilderment that began to infect and take over the rest of the room as well. He had quickly realized the issue when Lyndon admitted to only reading one surname; Esmond had died without them in the room, and the screaming done by Egoth had not been in frustration or victory, but rather pain. The light had blinded him again, and Simon optimistically suspected that the orc was now completely robbed of sight. Egoth wouldn’t be able to see the second name produced, and now Simon had an answer to Skyla’s question.
“We must find out that name, and bring both Elanor and the other here.”