Tender Mercies: Book 2 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Within the mountains known as The Periphery few civilized settlements exist. By and large huts and tribes of orcs, ogres, light elves, and other foul natured creatures were the norm. A few human and demi-human cities existed after the slaying of Ancaruin and defeat of Alesha's armies, but as time progressed and the hardships of living in a land ruled only by the savagery of it's indigenous inhabitants became apparent, they retreated to the outer lands once again. Once a great city of evil, Mezarbolle had been besieged by the alliance of dark elves, dwarves, and men. Capturing the city and rebuilding it, it had been named Caradrin, dwarvish for Halls of Light. A task force was set to guard the city and ensure its survival. A noble gesture but with the hearts of the goodly soldiers yearning for home, a gesture doomed to failure.

Inside of a year, Caradrin was broken, betrayed from the very ground it was built upon by light elves forcing their land drake pets and steeds to tunnel up from caverns below. Mezarbolle returned. With its return also returned a powerful wizard named Narellin Kinslayer to lead them.

Narellin had been Ancaruin's chosen representative and leader of the armies once Alesha had disappeared. His agenda had always served himself first, of course, and with self preservation always foremost on his mind, he had been able to escape the defeat that Ancaruin and the majority of his army had suffered.

Now, some sixty years later things had progressed to the point where few things happened within the Lost Lands that Narellin was not aware of due to his network of patrols, spies, and magical means.

One of those very patrols had an up and coming wizard amongst its ranks by the name of Darakor. Darakor Kinslayer, the only surviving child of Narellin Kinslayer himself. Darakor had once had a younger sister, but surviving and growing up in Mezarbolle was ofttimes only accomplished by the most powerful of children.

In the slow and dangerous times that passed the coffers of any successful band of patrolling light elves grew full. Darakor's band more so then most, for Narellin had managed to arrange for only the most proficient of companions for him - both to help ensure his survival from whatever they might encounter and to challenge him at every opportunity to make him constantly aware of the nature of his race. Their names began to be feared as they occasionally raided beyond even the Periphery.

Then one day they encountered a single traveler. A single dark elf, walking apparently carelessly through lands where his kind were slain on sight. His nonchalance took all of them off guard, though they would not admit it. Darakor, unlike his brethren felt the need to learn. He approached him while his companions set themselves up in concealment to ambush their hated enemy.

"Halt, dark one!" He cried out, magically floating down from a tree. "Surrender yourself to us and perhaps we will kill you quickly!" It was not what he had wanted to ask. He had almost said instead, "Why?"

The trespasser looked at him, the fire in his eyes striking through to his heart in such a way that he knew he would never be the same again. "Why?" Was all he asked, though the emotions in his voice were so many and so varied that Darakor felt small and petty. He could sense a sadness in him, a loneliness, and a feeling as though a great weight rested upon him.

Darakor opened his mouth to respond when one of his companions stepped beside him from concealment behind the bole of a nearby tree and said, "There is no why! You are our enemy and you will die!"

From the trees two bows twanged with released arrows. A second flight followed before the first had reached their target. The dark elf moved with a speed, skill, and fluidity that to left Darakor amazed.

A long sword appeared in each hand almost magically. Thinking back on it, Darakor realized that the dark elf had indeed drawn them from their sheaths, but the speed with which he did it was unnatural. While this happened, he also stepped sideways and avoided the first two arrows, arrows that should have pierced his heart. The second pair of arrows would have missed also, but to prove his point, his swords flicked out and shattered them in mid air.

The elf beside Darakor charged forward, katana raised for a killing stroke. The black skinned elf looked at him, then dropped to one knee and plunged his sword backwards. Darakor's remaining companion's invisibility spell faded as the grip on his dagger relaxed. He fell to the ground, sliding off the impaling blade.

All of this happened so quickly Darakor was stunned. He finally gained some sense and tried to summon some spells to mind, but found he could not. He stood there in shock, certain he was witnessing his doom.

The light elf that had pronounced doom on the trespasser reached him and tried to deliver the killing stroke with his katana, but had it blocked by one of the dark elf's swords, then beaten out of his hand with the other sword. None of the patrols members had ever seen a finer swordsman then the suddenly disarmed elf they traveled with before that moment. Now Darakor knew he had seen the finest swordsman he would ever see, regardless of how long he lived. His final comrade drew his companion sword but by the time it had cleared the sheath, his head was on its way to the ground.

Darakor suddenly realized that he was the only one left. He fell to his knees. The dark elf walked to him then, twin swords hanging loosely at his sides. He stopped about a yard away from the kneeling light elf, silently appraising his. Darakor finally looked up into his eyes and saw the powerful fire burning within. He knew then that what they had encountered that day was no mere mortal man.

"Before you kill me, there is one thing I must know," Darakor felt himself speaking but was unsure of where the words came from. "Why?"

The dark elf tilted his head back and actually laughed at that point. There was sadness and bitterness in it, but no ill will. Using hindsight, Darakor would remain amazed for ages that there was little hatred for him or his race, after the pain light elves had caused him throughout his life. He stopped laughing finally and looked at Darakor again, tears in his eyes.

"I asked you why because I want to know why it is that your entire race can be so evil? Why is it that they can turn from us, your dark skinned kin, and hold such hatred when all we ever offered was kindness and love? Why is it you can kill your cousins gleefully? Why did your kin slay my family when I was not even a score of years old? Why did your race stand beside the source of corruption and evil that was Ancaruin and strike down so many of my friends and loved companions?

He stopped a moment to stare into the surrendered young wizard's eyes, penetrating them and giving him a sense of overwhelming age and power. "Why didn't you join your companions and attack me? Your spells may have made the difference. You might have made it possible to overcome me. Why didn't you do that?"

Darakor thought quickly as to what answer he could come up with that might spare his life. Grasping desperately, he opened my mouth but stopped when he was again caught up in his gaze. The words that came out of his mouth then came from somewhere he did not know of. "I knew that there was more. I knew that you were special. I knew that my companions would die, and I knew that I had to learn whatever I could from you. I've never seen anyone as skilled with blades as you are. In my youth I practiced long in the arts of the warrior, but magic turned out to be my calling. Seeing your own art at work twisted my heart and made me wish to renew my interest in it. In the scant minutes I have known you, you have made wish to change everything that is my life around, and I don't know why, I just know that it is true."

The dark elf stared into him, searching for truths and whatever else he do not know. How long they remained there neither truly knew, it might have been hours, it might have been days. At long last he sheathed one sword then held the other one at Darakor's throat.

"Wait," he gasped, prepared to feel the bite of steel.

"Are you a coward at the end, in spite of what you have said?" He asked out of curiosity instead of disgust.

"No, I accept whatever must happen. But first, I beg you to tell me who you are?"

The dark elf smirked and lowered his sword. "I am Kelnozz Risingmoon."

Darakor's jaw did not drop, but it should have. His vision failed him as his mind struggled to come to terms with the person standing in front of him. Finally, he was able to speak. "You are a God!"

He shook his head and chuckled bitterly. "No, I am not. My companions chose to ascend, but I chose to remain."

To say that Darakor's head was swimming would be an understatement of epic proportions. "But, you were one of the heroes that slew Ancaruin!"

"And I seek him still," he said enigmatically. He sheathed his other sword and turned his back on me.

Darakor remained kneeling, watching him walk away. Was this it? Was his life to be spared? He did not understand what was happening. After a moment of hesitation, he leapt to my feet and followed after him. Darakor opened my mouth to say something but Kelnozz beat me to it.

"Why? Why do you wish to come with me? Isn't it enough that I have let you live? I don't have time to nurse a light elf who just realized he's not the Gods' chosen one."

"I want to learn!" Darakor said quickly. "I want you to teach me of the things you have done, the things you have seen! I want to train and practice with weapons and warfare so that I can not be afraid to do what is the right thing. So that I do not need to rely on others and to be afraid that I will be defeated when I try to be just. You have somehow opened up my entire life and laid it bare before my eyes! I have seen the things I have done wrong and I wish to make amends! I ask you to please help me begin the long atonement I have ahead of me."

Kelnozz was quiet after that, but he continued to walk. Not knowing what else to do, Darakor fell back a few steps but stayed with him. He continued to walk until he stopped to rest that night, with the light elven straggler sitting at the edge of his camp, watching. Finally Kelnozz spoke again.

"If you truly wish to learn from me, you must first abandon your magic. What I teach has nothing to do with sorcery, it is purely mundane skill and skill alone. I can not make you unlearn what you already know, but know that if you choose to follow me, you must never use your magic," Kelnozz said, still staring at the logs he had gathered for a campfire.

Darakor nodded, wondering how he would be able to do what he asked. He realized that he would have to find a way, and if worse came to worse, he would always have the knowledge in the back of my head. Like Kelnozz had said, Darakor knew that he could not truly forget what he had learned. "I will do that."

"Then start a fire for us, it grows cold."

The light elf looked at the fire and moved closer. He opened his mouth to speak an arcane word out of habit, but stopped himself just in time. Kelnozz had made a good point in asking that simple task. Darakor looked at him sheepishly and said, "Do you have some flint and steel?"

He nodded towards a tinderbox sitting next to him. Darakor moved over to pick it up then looked at the collection of logs. "We're going to need some kindling, those logs are to big to catch."

"What have you got on you?" He asked me, staring pointedly at my backpack.

My eyes squinted in thought. All Darakor carried in my backpack was standard travelling fair, a blanket, some rations, some scrolls, and my spellbook. Sighing, he took his backpack off and opened it up. He pulled out all of his blank scrolls and made is if to put them under the logs. Kelnozz stared emotionlessly, observing.

Once the scrolls had been placed under the logs, the would-be-warrior examined the job and realized that not enough heat would be generated to ignite the logs. Irritated by how simple this could have been, he turned to Kelnozz. He looked at Darakor a moment, unfazed by the conflicting emotions playing across the young elf's face. Then his gaze shifted. Darakor followed it and felt his throat dry out quickly. They were looking at his spell book.

Darakor did not dare to glance back at him. Instead he closed my eyes and took several deep centering breaths. When he had calmed myself, he knelt down and placed his hand on the book. Faint power thrummed from within it at the touch of its author and owner. Steeling himself, he lifted it and carried it to the barren campfire. Knowing the powers contained within, Darakor merely placed it on top of the pile of wood and stepped back. Every muscle in his body fighting with him for the years of study and research he was about to allow to be destroyed.

"That should work," Kelnozz said, his voice cutting through the night and bringing Darakor back to the present.

"It will not burn," Darakor explained, my voice small and scared. "It is protected from all but the most powerful of magical fires."

Kelnozz nodded behind him, unseen. The son of one of Kelnozz's greatest foes breath caught in his throat when Kelnozz stepped in front of him. Darakor stood there watching as the dark elf knelt at the edge of the pit, flint and steel in hand. With one strike a spark hit the papers from his scrolls and caught. Kelnozz stepped away from the pit and turned to watch.

Darakor stared as the scroll burned brighter. The flames spread to the other scrolls that had been placed in the fire and licked at the thick logs. As Darakor thought, the flames were not hot enough to ignite the logs. Then one flame licked at the edge of the spellbook. It took all of the light elf's power and control to not rush forward and try to rescue it.

From the single flame that touched it, a new fire began. What should have been impossible was happening. In a few short seconds the spellbook combusted. It burned brightly and hot, lighting up the surrounding forest for several dozen feet. With a magical explosion, the book burst open and flames soared into the sky. Darakor could barely feel the heat on his face, so removed was he from what was happening. Then he felt Kelnozz pulling him back.

They continued to watch as Darakor's life's work went up in flames. The twisting and torturing of his soul could not be described with mere words. Suffice to say that in the one single act, Darakor believed that he had allowed who he was to be completely destroyed and his past forever sundered.

That was the undoing of the light elf that he had grown up to be. Kelnozz taught him anew how to exist and survive. He taught his young squire the way of a warrior. Darakor learned how to wield not just one long sword, but two, just as Kelnozz did. He learned how to watch his foes and how to outmaneuver them.

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One day in their wanderings throughout the Outer World in a town named Reballge they encountered the after effects of a duel. A dwarf lay slain in the street, surrounded by a few people. Another dwarf came running up demanding to know what happened. An large human wielding a beautiful long sword had killed him, or so the story went. Darakor silently observed, feeling as though something important was happening. He was unable to say anything, or even pull the hood away from his face. Darakor was a light elf, and in the Outer World, that meant death on sight.

"Did the sword seem pure and unflawed?" Kelnozz asked suddenly.

A nearby priest of the God of War, Nordan, nodded to him.

"Did it have a ruby dragon set within it's crosspiece?"

Again, the priest nodded. "You know this man?" He asked.

"No, I know the blade."

Kelnozz left the group with a confused Darakor following after.

"What is the significance of this blade?" The student asked him. Darakor had long since learned by then that there were thousands of things Kelnozz knew that he might never understand. Events and deeds done long before his birth. Times of power and epic struggles that went untold when few survived to tell the tales. Darakor had long since learned to not doubt, for Kelnozz had never lied to him and if it was something he needed to know, he would know in time. This bothered Darakor a bit though, for his thirst for knowledge was as unquenchable as ever.

Kelnozz was quiet for a few moments as he considered what to tell his student. "The blade is newly forged, but the spirit of it is older then this world. It is a weapon of incredible power, and is wholly evil. It and other objects similar to it are the goals of my questing."

Darakor had always noticed that, though it seemed they traveled at random, there did seem to be a method to their wanderings. Now he had a further glimpse into it. Naturally he yearned to learn more, but Darakor knew he would only find out when the dark elf was ready to tell him.

Continued in Chapter 6

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