Four months after The Rending. A lone dwarf makes his way through the darkened lands following a summons from an old friend.

Adrik trudged through the thick mud as it began to overtake the narrow country road. Several times as he made his way forward, he found himself stuck in the muck up to his knees. More than once he had to pull his leg from his boot and fish the boot out of the mud. The rain seemed to pour down harder with each step and streamed down the front of his oiled hood. After what felt like hours, the lights of the small country town at the top of the next hill shone brightly on the horizon. A short wooden fence encircled the village with a makeshift gatehouse facing the road. 

A guard stood huddled in the small wooden shed of a gatehouse, a flickering lantern hanging from a nail in the wall behind him. As Adrik came up to the gate, the guard, who couldn't have been more than 16 summers old, stuck his head out of the window.

"Who goes there? State your business."

Adrik pulled his hood back to show the guard his face, "I'm here to meet with an old friend. He sent for me." The guard shone the lantern into Adrik's face and paused for a moment as if considering, and then began winching the gate open. It swung open slowly and Adrik noticed the boy was having a terrible time getting the mechanism to function properly. How long had it been since this gate had been installed? Weeks? Days? How had it already become so dilapidated?

After making his way through the gate, Adrik could see that the town was a mess. Despite the perpetual darkness in this part of the world, he could see that most of the buildings were in a state of disrepair, many sporting large tarps which covered holes in the roofs. No doubt nocturnal predators had been growing increasingly bold in recent weeks.

Before the Rending, a village this size would never have invested in oil lamps for the streets which meant now these people had spent months in this gloom with only the light from their hearths to provide respite. Whatever force had broken the sky had not been kind to this part of the world.

As he came up to the door of the tavern, he saw men sitting at tables staring off into the dark and letting the rain drip into their mugs of ale. The sign above the door read 'The Stewpot Inn'. The few people in the establishment paid him no mind as he scraped the mud from his boots and sat down in a chair near the hearth. He put his cloak and boots near the fire to dry, and ordered a drink. Cyrik was nowhere to be seen.

Adrik waited by the hearth, content to sit and enjoy the warmth and think of better days. Three drinks into his reflections, the tavern door opened and someone entered wearing a cloak that was so deeply purple it was almost black. Gold embroidery lined the edges of the cloak creating a shifting sequence of arcane glyphs that appeared to move and shift the more you looked at it. The figure walked to the bar, ordered something, and then moved toward Adrik pulling off the cloak.

Before him stood one of the demon-born. A tall, thin figure with tall, slightly curved horns rising from his head and whose fawn-like legs ended in cloven hoofs. His skin was a light purple and his short cropped hair was stark white. This was Cyrik. Perhaps the most well known demon-born in Etheriel and one of Adrik's oldest friends.

Cyrik pulled up a chair next to Adrik and sat down. "You look well old friend" he said as he reached over to clasp arms. They embraced briefly with obvious reticence on Adrik's part.

Getting a closer look at Cyrik's face, Adrik saw several new scars dotting his friends face and heavy bags under his dark eyes. He looked ragged, as though he hadn't slept in days. "Gods Cyrik, you look terrible," Adrik said.

Cyrik gave him a tired smile, and said, "Time certainly has taken its toll, but I'm making it. For now, at least." The waitress brought him a mug of something blue and fizzing. Cyrik had always had terrible taste in spirits. Whether that came from his demonic ancestry or was just a personal flaw, Adrik had never been sure.

After taking a large gulp from his mug, Cyrik said, "I'm so glad you decided to come Adrik. I was worried when I didn't receive a response, but I knew you'd be here." He reached into a pocket and removed a small wrapped package. Handing it to Adrik he said, "I've been carrying this around for years now. I saw it in a marketplace in Bestova and thought of you."

Adrik took the package and held it for a moment before putting it in his satchel and turning to Cyrik. "Cyrik, I'm not sure what you were hoping this meeting would be, but I came to hear you out, so I'd rather we just get on with the business if it's all the same."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Cyrik looked taken aback momentarily, but recovered quickly. "Right, of course." He shuffled through his small side sack and pulled out a long sheet of paper that had no business fitting into such a small pouch. Unrolling it on the hearth, Adrik could see that it was a map of Etheriel. Cyrik had marked several large cities in an area that had been shaded darker than the rest of the map. This area roughly matched up with what people had been calling the Darkened Lands, or the part of the world that had been frozen in perpetual night.

"I've figured out how we're going to save the world. Or at least make it liveable again." He looked at Adrik with genuine excitement in his eyes and continued, "We start by restoring order to the major cities. Then, once the city lords are back in control, they can disperse supplies and troops to the surrounding villages and townships. "

Adrik let Cyrik continue explaining his plan, but he had already stopped listening. There would be no appology, no discussion of their past, just another of Cyrik's plans.

"So, what do you think?" Cyrik chimed, looking all too proud of himself. "Think we've got another adventure left in us? I was thinking we could reach out to the others too."

Once Cyrik stopped speaking, Adrik said, "You're still an idealist I see." He rubbed his beard, exasperated. "Cyrik, I can't afford to get involved in another one of your quests. I thought you called me here to talk, but if this is going to be another scheme to save the world, I would rather just go home now."

Cyrik looked almost desperate as he put a hand on Adrik's shoulder to keep him in his seat, "No quests! Just a little bit of dwarven know-how is all I'm asking for. I just need you and a few others to come with me and show these people how to make a living with what they've got. We'll show them how to craft everlamps, find them some crops they can grow by moonlight, maybe build a few lighthouses, and we'll be done before autumn arrives."

Adrik stared into the fire as he slowly mumbled, "Judging by what we've seen the past few months, I doubt we're likely to see another autumn." The speed with which the world had begun to collapse in on itself was truly staggering. In just four months, kingdoms were falling and great cities were eating themselves from the inside out.

"You may be right, but if this is the hand the gods have seen fit to deal us, we've got to find ways to survive. Don't you think we have a responsibility to do what we can to help these people?"

Adrik said nothing, but continued staring into the fire for a long moment. Finally he looked at Cyrik and said, "This doesn't have to be our job, and truth be told, I don't want it to be. I'm sorry Cyrik, but no. Not this time. What would Elona think of what's become of you? You look like you've been wandering around the dark half of the world just looking for problems to get involved in." Adrik worried mentioning Elona may have been a step too far, but he did not back away from his assertion. "You can't keep trying to solve all the world's problems and dragging everyone you love behind you."

"I think about her all the time you know." Cyrik said quietly. He leaned forward and stared down at the floor. "Everything fell apart after she died didn't it? I wasn't ready to see that." He turned to Adrik looking pained, " I tried to hold all of us together, but without her I couldn't do it anymore. Things spun out of control and..." He trailed off, unable to recount all that had transpired between them.

Adrik placed a hand gently on Cyrik's shoulder and said, "Cyrik, I came because I used to believe in you. I wanted to think that maybe after all this time you were ready to accept things and move on. Just because the world is in turmoil doesn't mean we're responsible for saving it. It's time to let someone else take the reins."

Before their conversation could continue, a scream pierced through the tavern. Adrik and Cyrik looked at eachother and bolted for the door. They burst outside as the screaming increased and they saw people running from several dark twisting shapes. Cyrik yelled, "Shadows; regular blades won't work, here." He tossed Adrik a pair of knives that looked to be silvered. Adrik caught them and followed as Cyrik moved toward the sounds of conflict.

"I take it you've encountered these monstrosities before then?" Adrik yelled as they rushed to intervene.

"You could say that." Cyrik yelled back as he came to a stop in the small town square.

It took Adrik a moment to take in the situation. These Shadows were large twisted shapes that appeared to be made of darkness. Their edges were barely visible in the gloom outside. From what he could see, there looked to be four, perhaps five of the beasts running through the town. One caught an unfortunate townsperson in its inky black claw and simply began squeezing. The person screamed as the monster tightened its grip, and the scream cut off abruptly with a sickening crunch.

Taking a wide stance in the middle of the street, Cyrik took in a deep breath as his cloak began to billow slightly. As he sucked in air, Adrik could see light glowing in his chest, indicating the swelling of magical energy. When Cyrik released his breath, light washed through the town almost like a liquid. It flowed around corners in a visible wave expanding outward and upward creating a dome of light around the small town. The light lingered after Cyrik was finished casting his spell and the shadowy creatures outlines were now starkly visible in the small town square. They froze momentarily as the light overwhelmed whatever senses they used. Then all 5 turned and screeched in Cyrik's direction.

"Well old friend, I hate to ask, but I could certainly use a hand."

Adrik scowled and flipped one of the knives in his hand. "Just once more."

_____________________

Pronunciation Guide (at least the authorial version, feel free to say it however you want)

Adrik: AH-drik

Cyrik: Psy-rik

Elona: EL-ona

Etheriel: EE-thEEr-EE-EL