Ilyan looked behind him and was glad to see that Jordan hadn’t put his legs on his back and run for the hills. It was always dark in the night lands but the darkness varied. When it was it’s darkest you couldn’t even see your own hand. He knew that when it would get that dark that is was time to make camp for the night.
Before the night lands had been corrupted it had been an excellent means for transportation. The night lands were much smaller than the continent of Elnyr, which meant that you could cover ground much faster. A journey to any of the southern kingdoms could take weeks if you travelled on the normal road with horse, but with the night lands you could reach the same destination by foot in a few days, as long as you took the right portal when you left the dark lands. This wasn’t Ilyan’s first time in the night lands, they had been forced to travel here when they used the ash throne to teleport away from their world. He had no idea why the throne hadn’t been built on Elnyr or who it had been meant for originally. The thrones roots were colossal and they run through the whole world. The throne was placed in the middle of the world and it wasn’t hard to get there because you couldn’t miss the roots. They were so large that even if Ilyan would carve a hole in them, his head wouldn’t reach the roof. There were a lot of outpost like these as long as you knew where to look. Ilyan didn’t but felt confident that they would find anything worthwhile and if they didn’t he wasn’t afraid to sleep on the ground even if he preferred a more comfortable life.
The black light in the lamp had changed when they stepped through the portal and now shone a bright yellow light that helped them decide the next path for them. If they needed to go to the Azral ruins then they needed to go westward, his major concern was if they would go too far and miss their location by several miles when they returned to Elnyr. They should have brought more lamps but Ilyan hadn’t seen any down in the basement. He couldn’t do anything about that now, he would trust his instincts later, he knew that they would have gone too far if they journey more than two nights. He started to walk with a sour mood. What on earth had happened? Couldn’t they do anything with him gone? He would defeat this traitor personally then they would go on a new vacation, his father couldn’t deny him that after he had saved the day.
The lantern was heavier than he had expected and he assumed that Jordan would have to carry it before all of this was over. Jordan was close behind him, both so he could see better the road ahead of them and also to get protection from the bright light. Several of the beasts that lingered here shunned the light but not all of them…
Before House Gold had known about the night land’s possibility for transportation they had stored creatures that the citizens of Elnyr had deemed too troublesome to exist. The dwarves had been safe since no one could work metal like them. Ilyan’s armor was all dwarf made. However, the goblins, the vampires and the giants had all been unworthy of the lands they possessed back home. They had been forced by the sword to live here instead and many had been killed in the wars that followed after that. Goblin’s usually weren’t hard to kill but the darkness had transformed them to ferocious beasts that even good knights could have trouble to beat. The worst was the new giants that were so hard to kill that if you managed to do that you got remembered in history by the scribes.
He didn’t know how many hours they had walked but he thought it was time to make camp. He hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep and he felt exhausted. They sat down on a place where the ground was even enough. They sat facing each other with the lantern between them.
He could still see that Jordan was uneasy, that wouldn’t do, if he needed to guard the camp all by himself for a few hours. He needed to do something so Jordan would think about more pleasant things.
“Do you know about the story of Gandon and Ilmur?” asked Ilyan. It was his father’s favorite and he had heard it many times in his youth. He had preferred the stories about Loran Silvertounge and his scandalous adventures.
Jordan shook his head. “Would you like to tell, it my lord? Couldn’t be a finer night for stories, if I do say so myself.”
Ilyan turned his head up to the sky trying to remember. “This story took place a long time ago, two thousand years ago, if the scrolls can be believed. Before we knew about the night lands, or that we could make verbal contracts with the fallen gods. Ilmur was son to a king and he was deemed to be legendary with a blade. Kind to the peasants and lord alike, and deemed to be very handsome. He is the first one who ever managed to slay a dragon on his own.”
Jordan gasped. “That can’t be true, were there any witnesses?”
“No, he went alone to save his dear friend that lay dying in his sickbed. To create a ring from the dragon’s soul that would give his friend Gandon immortal life. But I’m getting ahead of myself. My apologies, when you are as rich as I you usually have someone else that narrates a story for you, so you should consider yourself lucky, this is a rare treat.”
Jordan nodded encouragingly. That pleased Ilyan.
“Gandon was son to a captain of the company men of the phoenix. One day the king was out on the road inspecting the kingdom when they got attacked by Goblins. Gandon’s father was nearby and rushed to the king’s aid. It was very brave, but that cost the captain’s life but the king was saved. Gandon was only a baby at the time and he had no other family but the king was grateful and took him in as his own. You know about the Red battlelords origin right? They used to be the men of the phoenix. In those days they helped anyone who was in need. Not like today, where they won’t even lift a finger if gold isn’t involved. Only one thing of the core remains, all of the group are skilled blademasters, but the original members of the group would spit on them today if they knew what path they had taken and what they had done with their ideal.”
Ilyan didn’t like the Red Battlelords, but he didn’t blame them, he didn’t like to do things for free either. He continued:
“Gandon grew up to be a bookish lad with an interest in sorcery. Gandon and Ilmur grew up to be best friends and Ilmur was closer with Gandon than with even his own brothers. There were almost twenty happy years but it wouldn’t last, Gandon never felt that he belonged fully with the rest and he wasn’t royal in truth. The first crack in their friendship was the fair lady Alexandra, who both of them wanted to have as wife very badly. But they deemed each other as a threat knowing fully well what the other was capable of. Both of the men kept their hearts hidden from each other.
“A war started because they were attacked by one of the fallen. Gandon and Ilmur fought together against the demigod and Gandon almost sacrificed his life for Gandon. Both of them survived but Gandon was in deep sleep from the dark magic the fallen had used on him.
“Ilmur encouraged all the wizards from the world’s four corners to come and look at Ilmur and see what could be done. Only one solution was given, to slay a dragon and imprison its soul so it could balance the dark magic that slumbered in the man. Ilmur had been training with a dwarven blacksmith to create the dragon ring and bestow it upon Gandon’s finger.
“When Gandon woke up, was he a changed man. Both he and his father had sacrificed his life for the royal family and he felt that it was time for the family to repay their debts. He used sorcery on Alexandra so that she would fall for him even though she had already married Ilmur. He found the two of them in his bed and Ilmur slew Gandon then and there with tears in his eyes.”
“But that’s not how the story goes!” said Jordan angrily.
Ilyan raised an eyebrow. Hadn’t the lad said that he didn’t known the story? Perhaps he had only said no, so Ilmur wouldn’t stop talking.
“What do you mean?”
“Gandon didn’t get killed in Ilmur’s bed. He got killed in a duel between them that had started with a long-outdrawn war that had started when Gandon felt unappreciated by Ilmur and the rest at court.”
“Huh, I’ve never heard it told like that.” They continued to tell each other stories until Ilyan felt that he couldn’t push his luck any longer.
“I’m going to sleep now, wake me at the first sign of a problem.”
*
Jordan woke Ilyan up four hours or so later. He still felt groggy, he had gotten used to sleeping as long as he wanted during his previous journey. Marion slept even longer than he did. He asked if Jordan needed to sleep, but Jordan said that he was so nervous that he couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to. They had a quick meal of bread and honey before they were on their way, once again.
They didn’t feel like talking much during their journey. Afraid to draw attention from the dark to themselves. Ilyan had once accidentally walked on a twig and Jordan had made a loud squeal. Ilyan looked at Jordan angrily. If they got killed because of a twig he was going to be really mad. He proved not to be so good at the job as a seeker, they took the wrong path several times, but finally they reached their destination.
The Astral ruins were shaped like a square, with broken towers at each end. According to history the place had been beautiful long ago, but now everything was shattered, broken and withered down and covered with moss and thorns. Still, Ilyan eyed a couple of mermaid statues that would have made Marion’s beauty a run for her money. It was said that the statues had been painted when kings ruled here and Ilyan couldn’t help but wonder what they would have looked like. Jordan on the other hand didn’t care at all and was still looking over his shoulder anxiously. All the stones here had a faint dark blue color to them and Ilyan couldn’t help but wonder why it was so.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Ilyan himself felt at ease, ahead could he see a faint glow of lanterns that the soldiers had brought out so the twisted and other things would stay away. Even though the monsters were powerful without a doubt, they were still cowards. They wouldn’t attack a party this big. They had nothing to fear here. He looked forward to sit down, remove his armor and maybe have a glass of wine with men he hadn’t seen for so long. He knew it couldn’t last for long, his father was still captured and they had to do something about that. Still under the briefing, it might be possible.
The first man that saw him was Gareth Falkgrove, a man ten years younger than him. His eyes shone up when he saw Ilyan. “Generals! He’s here, Ilyan has returned!” Gareth’s hair was short like the recruits even though he had been promoted to captain long ago. His nose was sharp and his face actually reminded Ilyan of an eagle or a falk. His surname fitted him well in that regard. Gareth was shorter than Ilyan but sturdy with broad shoulders and Ilyan would never like to engage in a wrestling match with him. The only gold that could be seen were on his left shoulder pad. He had always viewed Ilyan as an older brother and even looked up to him like an idol, and they embraced each other like blood brothers. They didn’t have time to say anything before he could hear the men shouting and approaching them with lanterns in hand.
They let go of each other. “Gareth, has anything good at all happened while I have been gone?” He really needed to hear some good news right now.
“Well, my eyestone Veronica was born two months ago.”
Ilyan nodded and gave him a genuine smile. Gareth was a perfect gentleman and he would be a good father as well. He was thinking that he could promote him when a good opportunity would come. Gareth’s daughter would have a good life since childbirth then. He couldn’t help but wonder if Veronica would become a major asset for House Gold in the future. He was brought back from his day dreaming when one of the men slapped him hard on the back.
“Gods be good! You have finally returned, the man said!”
Now he was surrounded by twenty men covered in gold and they all cheered when they saw him. They brought him to the center where the generals were waiting. Five men all of them having a golden helm to show their rank. Nelion Mandere held his helm around his arm. He was the oldest general with hair and mustache as white as snow. His face was wrinkled and he had a stern expression on his face. Ilyan’s father was surrounded by yes-sayers that hoped to please him, but Mandere was different. Always speaking his mind to his father. Ilyan couldn’t help but believe that Mandere was not happy to see him. With his father and him gone, Nelion Mandere would have been one of the best candidates for the next ruler for their House and for that they could never be friends. Not that Ilyan ever wanted to have a drink with any of his generals.
Mandere did a light bow with his head. “My lord, we hoped as much as you would have returned when we were informed that someone had used the ash throne. I would have come personally with an escort but we have been rather busy to stay alive to say the least.”
He eyed Jordan and spat on the ground. “Remove that filth from my sight right now,” said he and yanked Jordan’s silver shoulder pad from him.
“You don’t have the right to do that, I promoted him a few hours ago, and he has as much right to wear it as anyone. He has proved himself worthy of serving my family ever since he was a little boy.”
“You don’t understand my lord, the silvers have betrayed us, if they aren’t traitors they are cravens, since no one has dared to come forth. House Silver doesn’t deserve to exist any longer, since they have decided to follow Sardos; they are outright dangerous.”
“House Silver is essential, we need them, the two houses have always lived in coexistence,” said Ilyan.
The rest of the generals shook their heads. “No, my lord, I understand your feelings but Silver doesn’t work. We gave them too much power and see what happened. The Silvers were always jealous of us. To give that boy the silver pad, would be a grave insult,” said Talon. The youngest of the generals. Ilyan feared this man, he had always been stone cold and always saw things as opportunities and he had never seen the man get angry or raise his voice, not even thirty and already a general. Talon was the kind of man who would burn down a whole city to get rid of a criminal. He had no idea what his father saw in that man.
There were a lot of pieces on the board and he needed to keep his head straight. “I have been gone for a while and I need you to keep me up to date, even though we don’t have that much time.”
Mandere sighted. “We have only grim news to tell you, I’m afraid.”
Ilyan sat down and Gareth brought him some wine. It tasted wonderful, it had been difficult to find any good wine in the other worlds. “Is it true what Jordan said? The fallen can appear as much as six times a month?” He still had a hard time to believe what Jordan had said and he expected the generals to laugh at him but no one did.
Mandere spoke up first. “Unfortunately it’s true, we don’t know the reason, but there have been some speculations that the gods have gotten themselves in a civil war. The problem is that silver has been really efficient in capturing the fallen. Every month several strong warriors in silver enter their ranks thanks to the fallen’s magic.
That problem is however only part of an even bigger problem. The biggest problem of them all is Sardos from Silver. You probably know him better than I do, since he was your fathers squire. This is my fault but we didn’t take him seriously in the beginning. I sent three Golds and five Silvers after him but they never returned.”
Ilyan was still flabbergasted that they talked about Sardos in this way. “I understand. The fault is not yours, I would have done the same.”
“I said from the beginning that we should deal with the problem root and all,” said Talon.
Mandere looked at both of them nervously. “Talon would burn down a town to find a missing coin from his money pouch!” said he accusingly.
Talon shrugged. “Cities can always be rebuilt, but if some of my things are missing and I don’t know where they are, such thoughts can eat you up alive.”
“My lord, surely you’re joking!”
“Enough, what’s done is done,” said Ilyan. “Does anyone know where my father currently is?”
“The silvers were the scouts, but Gareth here has done some investigations and he believes that he is captured where the oak throne lies. In the middle of the night lands.”
“Have they asked for any ransom?”
“None, my lord.”
“Then this is most likely a trap, but I must spring it either way. He is my father and your liege lord.”
“My lord, wars cannot be won by boldness. I suggest for caution. If we only could get a few more men with the fallen’s ability before we get there.”
“Didn’t you just say that the silvers always get the fallen first, recently? Clearly, they know something we don’t.”
“You are a coward, Nelion Mandere,” said Talbon calmly.
“You dare speak to me in that way?” Mandere’s cheeks were red with furry. “I only try to give his lordship the best council I can give.”
“Yes, and that’s the problem isn’t it?”
“Squire!” screamed Mandere.
This was worse than Ilyan had thought. Not only were they in war with Silver but they were fighting amongst the gold as well?
“Good evening gentlemen, a fine night for blood isn’t it? Can’t you hear the red moons call for blood?”
Mandere and Talbon stopped arguing and turned around. In the circle stood a man with a steel helmet shaped like a pumpkin. He had a long red cape that scraped the stone floor. In his belt were two swords, and Ilyan recognized the bones that the handles were made from. They were dragon bones. His voice had sounded all distorted from the helmet.
“Who are you? And how did you get past all the guards?” said Mandere.
“They call me all sins Jack, and I’ve come here to kill you all.”
“You and what army?” said Mandere mockingly.
All sins Jack pointed at his two swords that were attached to his belt. “Just me, and my two darlings that I brought with me. If it pleases you, my lords.”
“The man has a death wish; we have almost thirty men in total here. You will never leave this place alive, bastard.”
All sins Jack? Why did that sound so familiar? Surely he wasn’t Jack Celn? The strongest of all the red battle lords? Jack wasn’t an uncommon name after all. Even though they were thirty to one Ilyan felt afraid.
“Who paid you to come here?” The red battlelords were so sure to succeed with their missions that they usually gave that information away when they saw the life end in their victim’s eyes, at least that is how the stories went.
All sins Jack spat but nothing could be seen coming from his helmet. Had he just spat inside his own helmet? The man was clearly insane.
“No one paid me anything to come here.”
Ilyan breathed out. The red battelords would never do anything for free. This was clearly some kind of ploy from the enemy, to make him nervous. But he had come past all of the guards…
“Kill him,” said Ilyan.
“My lord, shouldn’t we just capture him for questioning?” asked Talbon.
“If you can, but don’t endanger your lives by doing it.”
Three men came forth and drew their swords and Gareth was one of them. No… Not Gareth, he felt a sudden dread in his heart, but he couldn’t play favorites. The captains were there to protect their generals.
One of the captains took a swing but Jack took a step back nonchalantly and seized the man’s wrist and twisted, the captain started to scream. “Make me work for it, I haven’t even felt the need to draw my two swords,” said Jack mockingly. A hidden dagger was brought forth and Jack stabbed the captain in the eye. The scream was deafening. Another captain attacked but Jack sliced the man’s throat easily.
“Ah, blood… Such a beautiful color, the same as the red moon.” He smeared his own helmet with the captain’s blood.
Gareth stood back, not daring to attack. Ilyan just stood there in shock he had failed these men, if he didn’t do anything Gareth would die as well. Jack came at Gareth with his knife but Jack was on the defense and managed to parry it.
“Everyone attack now! Show him what the golden men can do!” screamed Ilyan and drew his sword.
There were multiple battle roars from the men. They wanted to see this man dead. They tried to circle Jack, but he wouldn’t let them. He abandoned his knife and drew his two swords. The blades were black, they always turned black when you attached the steel to the milk white dragon bones. Ilyan didn’t know much about bladelore, but according to what he had heard these black blades couldn’t shatter and they never lost their edge.
Several men attacked him simultaneously, but it was like a man fighting children. Loram fell, even the general Cornbeck. Mandere screamed after the squire and his sword, but the squire must have remembered a secret mission because he was running like one of the fallen was after him. Five, six men felt, no one had even managed to land a single blow on their enemy. Some of the men started to lose their morale and started to flee. Why didn’t they have anyone here with the fallen’s abilities? Where were they? He never had the time to ask. Mandere took a sword from one of the dead, but he might as well have fought Jack with a toothpick for all good it did him.
His nerves betrayed him. He needed to save his father. Tease men could be replaced. He started to run. At least he knew where his father was.
“My lord?” said one of the men weakly laying in his own blood. Ilyan ignored him, all sins Jack was without a question Jack Celn, fighting him was suicide. They didn’t have any mages or anyone with the fallen’s eyes, it was better to run. He was not proud, but he would do what he could to survive.