Chapter 23
Luingirth dropped out of the sky and landed in the same courtyard with the fountain where the statues had once been. Now only the pool and the stream remained amidst the cobblestone plaza, all signs of the battle long gone.
They had seen the throng of undead that pressed the city's gates, beating against the walls mindlessly in an attempt to gain entry. A magical portal had been established between Innowendyn and Thoragloorin, allowing elves to travel between the capitals without delay. It likewise allowed the walls of Thoragloorin to be manned and defended, although since there was no great tactical skill behind the army of shuffling corpses, defense consisted primarily of making certain that the exits were barred and that they could not climb atop one another highly enough to climb over the walls.
In spite of that, Kelnozz, Yamara, Luingirth, and Garrick met a haggard looking Bobocateya and Alesha. Both seemed very drawn and tired, but neither would speak much of it. Once the question of Vanya, Regnar, and the others was put to rest they gathered in the recently re-fired forges of the citadel. The smithy in the castle proper was the finest in all the land, allowing both a temperature and a control designed for working with the most complicated of alloys and the powerful of magics. Since the Kinslaying wars, Viconia had not seen its like.
"Darakor is alive," Kelnozz told her shortly after greeting her with a heartfelt embrace.
Alesha nodded, looking a little guilty at his declaration. "I felt him returned recently."
Kelnozz's eyes widened. "That time at the Well?"
She shook her head, "No, after that. I still do not know who or what that was."
The Elf King frowned but decided to let it drop. Later they would discuss why she had not shared the information.
"Are you prepared for this?" Kelnozz, weary himself with the two day flight home, asked his wife.
Alesha nodded, then offered a faint smile to him as thanks for not pursuing the matter of Darakor. She pulled him aside and kissed him tenderly, something that took him by surprise.
"I thought time was of the essence?" Kelnozz asked, a chill growing in him at her actions.
"It is, but a fight such as this is always perilous," she explained. "If the worst should happen..."
Kelnozz smiled and put his fingers to her lips, which he noted were surprisingly cold to the touch. "We will be triumphant, worry not."
She smiled, her eyes watering. Enigmatically she said, "that may be the worst that could happen."
Before Kelnozz could ask her what she meant, she had moved past him. He turned, reaching for her, but was surprised to find that she was already standing near the forge. He was more surprised to see her fully garbed in her armor crafted from the scales of dragons and the mightiest of metals, something he had not seen in years. It brought back feelings and memories, some of which he quickly dismissed.
Garrick had the broken sword and had already placed it into the furnace. As a testimony to its dormant magic, the blade had begun to glow red with the gathering heat almost instantly.
Using adamantine tongs reinforced with magic of their own, Garrick pulled the two halves of the short sword from the coals, setting it upon an anvil made of similarly ensorcelled adamantite. His hammer, which he had summoned to his hand only a few minutes prior, swung through the air and smote the weapon. He struck it twice more, eyes widening in surprise with each swing.
After the third strike he raised the hammer and lowered it slowly to his side. Before him, unmarred and as flawless as it had been the day Alesha had found it in the lair of deceased black dragon, lay the sword. He turned to Kelnozz and Alesha, for once at a loss for words.
"It is ready," Alesha said, staring at it. Her voice was distant and cold, though Bobo and Kelnozz could feel a sense of dread in it.
Bobo felt a similar dread, and wanted to move to his father, to be with him as his mother did what she needed to do. Instead he held his ground, knowing that he must act quickly if she should falter.
Alesha turned to Yamara, who stood nearby but further back as a spectator whose part had already been played. "When this task is done, take this blade and make it your own. It can pierce anything, much like your tongue, and so I see no more fitting wielder for it."
Yamara nodded, fighting the urge to smile at the kindness Alesha had shown her. "Worry not about its powers, for I will draw from it the strength to imprison souls. But be also warned it is a curse, for others may yet seek it. That, too, is why I charge you with it, for it is a powerful weapon and one that I would not see falling into the hands of evil men."
She nodded again, then went so far as to drop to a knee in obedience. Garrick alone stared at Yamara for a long moment after she had risen. She felt uncomfortable under the Herculean man's gaze, but saw the appreciation and respect in his gaze. He alone had understood what it meant to her to show such a sign of respect and fealty.
"Kelnozz, my husband," Alesha said, turning to him. "Whatever should happen, stand clear. Alone this must be done, and alone the consequences must be borne."
"Consequences?" Kelnozz asked, suddenly alarmed. Something had seemed not right about his wife for some time now, he knew, but he thought her only tired and concerned about how everything had developed. Now he suddenly understood there was more to it.
"Wait!" He demanded, ordering in the way of a King who was expected to be obeyed.
Alesha ignored him, turning to step past Garrick. She picked up the reforged sword by the hilt, feeling it warm to her touch. Standing there, in that instant, fully armed and armored, she remembered again the terrible and evil queen she had been. She had thrown off that mantle so long ago it seemed as if it had been another person. Now she knew that it was still a part of her.
Bobo intercepted Kelnozz as he stepped forward, reaching for her. He saw the way her expression changed. How she became cold and hard, and again he saw the woman he had been forced to plunge his blade into long ago.
"Father! Stop... she must do this alone, do not interrupt her!" Bobo said, trying to hold him back.
"Let go, I can help her, I have always helped her," Kelnozz snapped, not wanting to lash out at Bobo but prepared to do so.
"If you make her falter, she will fail!" Bobo seethed back at him. "And if she fails, then it falls to me to do her task!"
Kelnozz halted, stunned by the statement. He stared at Bobo and then at Alesha, watching as she turned and stepped away from the forge and into the open street before it. Many elven soldiers were gathered outside, as word had spread of the royal entourage and of strange events taking place. These soldiers were ignored by them, however. Instead Alesha moved to the middle of the thoroughfare and held the blade up in front of herself. Kelnozz, Bobo, Garrick, and Yamara followed, though at a distance. Tears of confusion and understanding ran down the face of the King of the Elves.
The sword pulsed, a blackness that caused the area to fall under shadow bursting from it. A man appeared on the ground, naked but large, thick limbed, and powerful looking. Red hair the color of flames adorned his head, but it lay still in the sudden thick silence that encompassed the area.
"Bavorish, your time is ended," Alesha said, pronouncing doom upon him. "I claim your soul."
Bavorish rolled to his knees and looked up at Alesha. For the briefest of moments he seemed doubtful, then he barked out a laugh and raised one foot as though to rise. "I made you who you are, silly girl. Seek not to challenge me further, already you will suffer an eternity of subservience to me!"
Alesha tossed the sword to the side, where it clattered quietly on the paved roadway. Her hands reached forward, going towards Bavorish's throat. He caught her wrists in his hands, intent upon pushing her aside with ease. The shock upon his face when he touched her and energy of every color burst from their contact made him tremble. He snatched at his burned hands, disbelief in his eyes.
Alesha grabbed him and pulled him forward, a dark nimbus surrounding him. She leaned forward and placed her lips against his forehead, making him groan in agony as she siphoned his essence from him.
"No... I made you!" He moaned, refusing to surrender. He reached up, his hand grabbing at her body. He ignored the agony touching her caused him and tried instead to force his hand to crush her with his once great power.
Alesha pushed him back and thrust one hand into his chest, spearing through skin and bone as though it was not there. He gasped, head falling back weakly. She yanked her hand out of his flesh, pulling with it not the blood and gore everyone expected, but instead a phantom image of himself. It writhed in agony, struggling to escape her ephemeral grasp.
Alesha's other hand made contact with his spirit and she made a tearing motion with them both, pulling them apart. The spectral image burst, taking with it the shadowy darkness that enveloped them all. Bavorish's body, unmarred, fell to the ground and lay still. Outside the gates the thousands of spirits that animated the bodies of the dead were suddenly pulled back to their rightful resting place. The dead, animated for so long now, collapsed to the ground, leaving behind nothing but their now rapidly decomposing flesh.
Alesha turned, her gaze sweeping over everyone gathered in turn, including the elves that had witnessed the historic moment. Everyone that gazed upon her felt chilled to the bone. She turned to behold Kelnozz and, for a moment, her icy expression softened. He stepped forward, walking to within a few feet of her, and after a timeless moment passed between them, he nodded.
"I understand," he said.
She smiled, though by the moment she seemed increasingly distant to them all. "One day, my King, I hope we will be together again," she said so softly that it seemed a whisper of wind across the ground, yet everyone heard it.
She turned, even as she began to turn ghostly so that they could see through her. "I am the Mistress of the Dead," she proclaimed, her words sending a chill through the bones of those gathered. "The barriers between this realm and mine are restored, when next you look upon me your soul shall be judged. Live well, my friends."
The sun shone down upon the gathered people and the body of the dead God that lay upon the ground. No one moved or spoke, and none could tell between the moment when Alesha was among them and the moment when she was gone. Bobo was the first to move, as he stepped up to his father and laid his hand upon his shoulder.
Kelnozz nodded, to himself, to those assembled, or to something far beyond any of their ability to see no one knew. He gestured at Bavorish's corpse and spoke, "Inter this body into the deepest levels of the catacombs, then seal the room so that it may not be entered or even known to exist. No magic in it exists and no soul can ever inhabit it, but it is best if it is forever lost to the world."
He turned then, looking about and wondering if there was anything else that needed to be done. Finding nothing, he nodded to Garrick and then to Bobo, indicating with a jerk of his head that the latter should follow him as he walked off, heading into the city.
Yamara stepped forward after Kelnozz had left, bending low to gather up the dropped and forgotten short sword. She beheld it, noting how perfectly balanced it was in her grip and how simple the design of it. Yet she could tell it was every bit as dangerous as Alesha had promised. She removed her short sword from its sheath and put the new one in it, then tucked her old one, which had a much lesser magic about it, in her belt. She, too, left the scene, heading back to the palace for lack of a better place.
"Show's over," Garrick said, gesturing for everyone to disburse. Several soldiers came forward to take a part in disposing of the corpse, while the rest wandered off, talking excitedly to one another about the events they had witnessed.
Garrick clapped Bobo on the back softly, for him, and sighed. "Hell of a woman," he offered as consolation. Then Garrick, too, walked off.
Bobo nodded in agreement. He could still feel his mothers connection. In fact, he felt closer to her now than ever before. His vision was the same as before, and so were all of his powers. He sighed and decided that he needed to honor a pledge he had made. He had told Elvanshalee that he would make sure that no harm came to Vanya and Regnar. Plus there was his half-brother and grandmother on the loose. He expected the world to be a busy place, now that the dead at least had the good sense to die.
Continued in Epilogue
The Broken Sword - Chapter 23
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