Tirlanolir/D'nemy's Tales of Turgos: The Heroes of Goldfire Glen (UPDATE 7/26)

[Canaan]

Chapter 37: A Crossroads

We ran up the stairs to the main level of the Keep and out across the drawbridge. Passing the giant ducks, I vaguely noticed they were all laying on their sides, writhing in agony. I was so intent on getting away from the creature in Balian’s summoning chamber, that I hardly noticed anything else.

After the terror subsided and we gained a fair distance from the Keep, we slowed, exhausted. Shallahai collapsed, breathing heavily, dropping Lilian’s corpse on the hard packed earthen road leading to Goldfire Glen. Rin was the only one of us who appeared unwinded.

With exhaustion came an easing of my panic, and as my panic dissipated, my mental faculties returned. What was that creature? It killed Hu Li with one concentrated punch. Poor Hu Li. I looked at his slumped, unmoving form. I never thought I would say it, but with Hu Li’s passing, I felt loss. Not the kind of loss I feel for Lilian. It was more the feeling one gets with the passing of a long-time, beloved neighbor. Tears welled up in my eyes when I looked at Hu Li’s corpse. Deep down, Hu Li was a decent, if not terribly frightened, person. I never did ask the others how Jordan Gunderson behaved as a child. I never knew Jordan before his studies with the mad arcanist, before he had been tainted by the powerful arcane magic he wielded so efficiently. I think I would have liked to know Jordan the boy.

I shook my head and wiped my tears away. At least nobody will be trying to get us killed everywhere we go, anymore.

“-ut -e dun, -ou -ig oa-!” I heard a weak voice command.

To my surprise and delight, Hu Li was alive.

“I said, -ut -e dun!” He weakly spoke again, lips barely moving.

Perhaps I overstated things, by using the word “delight.”

Rin did as commanded, placing Hu Li upright, feet firmly on the ground.

The wizard proceeded to tumble over and hit the earth with a dull thud.

“Ow!.” I could hear the muffled sound of his voice, even though his face was smashed into the road’s surface. He merely laid there, moaning.

“Oh stop the dramatics and get up!” Shallahai barked exasperatedly at Hu Li.

“I can’t!” Hu Li cried in his muffled voice.

“What do you mean, you can’t. What is wrong with you?” I asked.

“I can’t –oo—a-yt-ing.” Hu Li pronounced.

I got up and rolled him over. His eyes were wide open. But he seemed not to have any control of the rest of his movements. His body was not rigid. Far from it. It moved like jelly. His skin was paler than normal.

After a thorough examination, I determined that he had been drained of all but the tiniest fraction of his strength. He could not move and was nearly paralyzed, but not in the way a ghoul or some poisons paralyze their victims. It was more like the creature he had been zapped of his ability to move and his strength. Not to mention that he had the pallor of a corpse. So, I suspected that his health had been siphoned off as well.

“The creature must have done this to you, when it attacked you.” I said, tenderly placing his arms across his chest.

Hu Li was clearly near death. Unfortunately his formidable yet unhinged mind was still intact and his tongue sharp as a knife.

“No, do –ou think?” Hu Li barked as sarcastically as he could muster, given his state.

“Do suthing, riest!” Hu Li ordered, in a panicked tone.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do at the moment, Hu Li.” I dropped his arm unceremoniously and began wiping my hands on my dirty robe, trying my best to ignore the arrogant mage. But I couldn’t hide the annoyance in my tone. To think that I cried for him. I am a fool.

“Balian required all of my miracles for the ritual. I have not the power to channel additional divine energy today. You’ll just hav—"

Shallahai’s sudden gasp, cut me off, mid-sentence. “Look!” he said, pointing to the sky.

I looked at the sky. It had turned orange! Not the orange of a sunset, but the orange of a fruit; bright, vivid. It was as if the very air was tinged orange, casting everything else in an eerie crispness that made me feel slightly claustrophobic, like some mornings in a thick fog.

“By Canaan! The sky is orange!” I breathed.

“Yes, look!” Shallahai was pointing at something in the air.

I squinted to see. About thirty feet away, an eyeless frog was flying through the air on bat wings. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

A ripple moved through the grass near the road in the direction from which we had just fled, undulating across it. It was about one hundred feet away. As the ripple moved through the grass, the flora changed. Where once green grass drank the sun’s light, now was only hollow, spongy pale white stalks, nearly translucent. They writhed in the orange glow of the air. Where there once were yellow dandelions and field flowers, were only blue maws with sharp teeth and long tongues lashing out at the unnatural insects buzzing by.

The ripple crossed to where we were sitting on the roadway. As it did so, Shallahai doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach.

“It is as before!” Shallahai exclaimed through clenched teeth. “In the tunnel!” He emptied the contents of his stomach on the roadway, which immediately got up and ran away into the writhing grass, to be devoured by the hungry, carnivorous flowers.

Hu Li chuckled.

I had had enough. Canaan forgive me. I began to berate him. “This is no time to—!"

“di-ensthonal -lot.” Hu Li said, cutting me off. “it’s caused –y da –lack –irror. It’s o-en! It’s o-en!” Hu Li yelled.

He started chanting then. “-raise da Eye-ess Harrow Uhns! –east on our –lesh, suck da –arrow um our –owns! We gi- oursel to you!” Over and over, again.

We were silent for a moment, trying to make out what Hu Li had said.

“Did he say dimensional blot?” Shallahai asked, looking at me questioningly.

“Something about the Black Mirror.” I responded.

Hu Li continued to chant over and over.

“What do you mean, Hu Li?” I asked.

He ignored me, chanting.

“Answer him!” Shallahai demanded, rising.

Our pleas and demands went ignored.

Hu Li’s chanting was now in rhythm with the writhing of the grass. They were in unison in some sort of dance macabre. I could feel a tension gathering in the air, like a snake about to strike, drawn to the chanting mage.

Until Rin peremptorily drove his fist into Hu Li’s temple, knocking him unconscious with a scowl.

“It’s about time somebody shut him up.” Shallahai thanked Rin.

The tension ceased. I felt momentary pangs of guilt for my satisfaction when Rin punched Hu Li. But Shallahai was right. Hu Li was only adding to this insanity.

I shook my head in my hands. I was at a complete loss for what to do.

“Where’s Talon?” I asked.

“I don’t know” Shallahai responded, looking around briefly at the insane landscape, then quickly returning his gaze to me, face pale.

“We didn’t pass him in our flight from the Tower.” Rin said. “And he was moving so fast—I’ll bet he’s several leagues from here.”

Balian must have lost the battle with the creature and this was some sort of after effect of the creature’s entrance into this world. From what I learned of callings in the seminary, they usually involved a creature performing a service for a negotiated period of time. After performing the service the creature was free to return to its plane of origin. The priesthood deals primarily with celestial beings. If a calling went wrong, at worst, the celestial being failed to answer it or exacted payment for, or refused to perform, the requested task. But Balian’s calling; it was arcane. The rules are different, I know. A bargain must be reached of some sort.

Oh what had Balian done!

Looking around at my disheveled companions, seeing the marks of the ritual on them, the cut wrists, the exhaustion, noting the absence of Talon and seeing Hu Li’s pitiful unconscious form and Lilian’s corpse, I made a decision. It was a decision that, once made, could not be unmade. It would forever be carried with me, my burden of faith. I would walk the tightrope between salvation and oblivion.

I set my jaw in determination and looked at my companions.

“An Arcanist got us into this…. Canaan willing, an Arcanist will get us out of it.”

I opened the Book of Abu-Abai.

 

[HalfOrc HalfBiscuit]

Excellent! Thanks, Canaan.

Oh what had Balian done!

... well, I'm guessing that it's not good.

 

[iStrider]

I cannot tell you how happy I am that this story hour is being updated again!

 

[Canaan]

Update coming soon! More than one, even......or maybe in short succession. Depends on how far I get writing. I've gotten through my writer's block on how to depict the session that has had me at a loss as to how to write it. So much happened, so many monumental things happened, so quickly that it has been difficult to express them. And I'm writing on my own now as D'Nemy has gotten extremely busy with RL. Ah well! I hope the updates find renewed interest in the story hour

 

[Canaan]

Chapter 38: Illyria

I was vaguely aware of movement and a shout. Or was it a gasp?

As I opened the book, bright light cascaded from its pages; its color that of a shallow tropical ocean on a sunny day. Words drifted in the sea of color, red and spidery. I couldn’t make them out at first, but I felt an urgency to decipher the words. I had the book gripped with both hands. My knuckles white with the exertion. My mind was suddenly filled with distractions; distractions seemingly fired at me from within the book. I felt pressure, as though the book was trying to assert its will over mine, bombarding me with disjointed thoughts. I felt my sanity slipping away even as I was drowning in a sea of color.

Everything outside of the book was faint, distant somehow, unreal. Did Lilian’s corpse just move? I shook the thought out of my head. The book was toying with me, trying to get me to lose my concentration. Just then, I felt, more than saw, hands, black and inky rise from the depths of the book to grasp mine. As they clasped my hands, they started to pull. I suddenly realized I was being pulled into the book!

My first instinct was to release the book and pull away. But I couldn’t. The more I tried, the more my muscles refused to respond. My head was pounding and I was beginning to lose consciousness. I knew in that moment that if I passed out of consciousness, I would fall into oblivion. If my will was not strong enough, I would be consumed by whatever entity it was that was within the pages of the book.

Gathering all of the will I could muster, I focused on the red, spidery words, trying to make them clear, understandable.

Blackness was quickly descending on me. With one last burst of effort and a silent prayer to Canaan, I focused all of my will on seeing the words clearly.

And all was made clear in that moment. The unfocused, hazy lines became crisp. Words formed from images. I spoke the words in a whisper, not being able to manage anything louder.

The hands retreated and the pounding in my temple ceased. The sea of color faded and the book became merely a book, its pages covered in a strange and esoteric form of handwriting, sprinkled here and there with Balian’s notes.

I immersed myself in the tome. For the most part, it was the product of either insane ramblings or unique genius. But several passages caught my interest. The book described the ritual we had just performed with Balian back at his tower, the Ritual to Summon and Bind the Horror. It described the Ebon Mirror and explained its nature and uses.

My heart sank as I read on, knowing what must be done, knowing that we were woefully unequipped to do what was required and knowing what would happen first to Goldfire Glen, then to the rest of Turgos, if the chain reaction could not be stopped. We must close the Ebon Mirror.

Then I heard it, an ethereal echo in my mind. Something trying to get through to my consciousness. I focused on the sound. What was it?

“Evora!” Came Shallahai’s warning cry. It was a mixture of astonishment, hope and terror, wrapped in pain.

I ripped my concentration from the book and the color faded. The druid’s eyes were wide and fixed on the road a dozen feet or so from us, his hands clutched his stomach, as before. I followed his gaze, a silent prayer to Canaan on my lips.

She was beautiful, and alien. Instead of long golden tresses, her hair was dark as midnight, streaked with iridescent purple. Instead of a glowing expression of peace and love, she wore a mien of uncaring curiosity. Her blue eyes, deep as the ocean itself, a window to her beatific soul, now flat mirrors of lavender, frightful to look into for fear of what would be found staring back. Markings of purple and black framed her face, blotches etched into her skin at regular intervals. Her once full, red lips were now deflated and blue. She had discarded her armor and clothing and now crouched before us, naked. Her soft white skin had turned cobalt blue. Her head cocked to the side like a dog trying to understand something incomprehensible, she observed us, wary.

As my mind processed the abomination before me, filling me with terror, I had the temerity to hope. My heart leapt as it sunk in my chest.

“Lilian?” I dared ask.

Nothing.

“How can it be!” Shallahai gasped as his stomach spasmed.

“This is not Lilian.” Rin calmly observed, referring to the creature before us. The creature’s eyes followed his movements and observed his expression.

I glared at Rin. “Surely, it is Lilian. The shape of her face, her figure—she is standing where her corpse was just a few moments ago!” I argued, even has my heart told me this animalistic creature standing before us was not Lilian.

Hu Li, all but forgotten, started giggling then.

“What is it!” Shallahai demanded of Hu Li, his pain—the affect of the unnatural taint on the Green—apparently shortening his fuse.

Hu Li only giggled more loudly.

“He is insane.” Rin observed.

This was madness. The druid continued to berate Hu Li and Hu Li continued, laughing more loudly, but it became a haze in the background of my thoughts as it began to sink in what was happening. Hu Li knew it, too. I felt the weight of despair and I could not move out from under it. This creature was not Lilian.

I sighed and stepped forward, wary, clutching my holy symbol in one hand.

“I am Evora. We mean you no harm.” I slowly approached the creature. I was immediately hit by the sensation of fear and power. It emanated from the creature in waves and hit my mind like pricks of light. My instincts— No, she somehow relayed to me that I had to quickly make it clear to her that she had nothing to fear from me. If I made the wrong move, I sensed she would rip me apart. Somehow her emotions were being imparted to me. Perhaps this was how she communicated.

The creature observed me, warily. It seemed uncomfortable and shivered slightly, as if cold, despite the warm day and sun beating down on the road.

I went to one of the packs we carried and produced a blanket, one that Lilian and Gabriel had brought with them from Goldfire Glen all those months ago. Unfolding it, I slowly approached the creature. “This will keep you warm.” I stated. Then, I wrapped the blanket around me to show her what I had intended.

She let me put the blanket on her, gathering it around her and held it tightly. Though she said nothing, waves of relief bombarded my consciousness.

Yes, I was correct. It was empathy. She was using empathy to communicate with me. It suddenly occurred to me that the reason she did not attack us was because she was sensing our love for Lilian and our hope that this creature was her.

“Look!” Rin pointed down the road behind her.

I saw a lone figure on the road coming toward us quickly. It was coming at a fast pace, running at great speed.

“It’s Talon!” Shallahai exclaimed. “He’s alive!”

I looked at the creature before me and skeptically looked at the figure of Talon approaching. I made a silent prayer to Canaan that the figure approaching was indeed Talon and not some other abomination.

The creature sensed our attention drawn down the road and whirled around to meet the incoming monk.

“He is a friend.” I explained. “He will not harm you.”

She seemed unaffected by my words. I sensed only wariness and a build up of power.

I placed my hand on her shoulder to emphasize that I needed her to listen to me. My mind was assaulted by waves of surprise, followed by disgust, annoyance and hate. She whirled around and prepared to smack me. I cringed and quickly removed my hand from her shoulder, sorry for the perceived offense. Her hand stopped in mid-air. The blow never came.

Moments later, Talon arrived.

“Hello, friends.” Talon bowed. “I must apologize for my hasty exit earlier. I had the most interesting sensation that I could not properly process. My heart wanted to stay and complete the ritual, but my mind told my feet to run.” Talon explained as if completely unaware of the mayhem his action caused. He simply explained his lapse of judgment as one would explain the first time one rode a horse or made love to a woman.

“This strange environment is overtaking the land. I seem to have made a mess of things.” He observed, matter-of-factly. Then he noticed that Lilian was standing, and not a corpse. He inched closer to her, observing, studying her.

“Fascinating.” He breathed. “I don’t think she’s human.”

Clearly I misjudged Talon. He wasn’t oblivious to what was going on, he was naïve or not socially programmed to react the way a normal person would react to such things. Ever since he had returned as a half Faean creature he seemed steeped in his own experience, more concerned with the experience than the effect of his actions.

“How far does this insanity reach, Talon.” Shallahai asked, pain evident on his face.

“A few miles, at least. I believe that if unchecked, it will reach Goldfire Glen in a matter of hours.” Talon stated matter-of-factly.

“We can’t let that happen.” Shallahai announced, gritting his teeth.

“What can we do about it?” Rin asked. “We seem woefully unequipped to stop this—this thing from spreading. Do we even know what is causing it?”

“Yes.” I answered.

All eyes turned to me, then.

“The realm of insanity is bleeding into our dimension. Based on my interpretation of the Book of Abu-Abai, the ritual to summon and bind the Horror has four parts. First, the Opening of the Mirror, next the Summoning, then the Binding, then the Closing of the Mirror. The last two parts of the ritual were not completed due to its disruption.” I explained.

I glanced at Talon and quickly looked away, shamed at the small display of judgment conveyed by my glance. I was weak. My faith was shaken. My mind was on the verge of breaking, and I was exhausted.

Thankfully, he seemed unaffected by my words.

“The Opening of the Mirror creates a conduit between our dimension and the Realm of Insanity, which from what I can make out is both a far off dimension and one that wraps our world like a cocoon. I don’t quite understand it. And it could just be the insane ramblings of the author of this book. But I am willing to believe anything at this point.” I was, too. What was happening was so alien, so beyond my experience, I could only draw at straws. I thanked Canaan for my ability to put faith in the unknown. Otherwise, I think I might have discarded the Book of Abu Abai as nothing but ramblings of a mad man.

Shallahai shifted uncomfortably at my words. Rin just listened. And Talon merely stared at the abomination that Lilian had become. Thankfully, Hu Li was silent.

I wearily continued. “Once the Horror has been bound, the ritual leader must close the Mirror to seal away the far Realm of Insanity from our dimension. If that last step is not taken, a door will remain open between that alien realm and ours. That realm will continue to bleed into our world until the Ebon Mirror is closed.”

“Balian failed then.” Rin said. “He was unable to contain the Horror.” He stated what all of us had been thinking. “It does not surprise me. You saw what that creature did to Hu Li with one swift movement.”

Rin echoed what I have feared ever since I read that passage in the Book of Abu Abai. The Ebon Mirror has not been closed because Balian is unable to perform the final part of the ritual. I prayed to Canaan that Balian was not dead.

Balian was odd, for sure. And despite what Hu Li would have us believe, I think Hu Li’s apprenticeship to the scabrous summoner would have been bearable, had Hu Li not been certifiably insane and so constitutionally incapable of following orders from the very beginning. There was a fatherly aspect to the old mage that I just couldn’t put my finger on. Yes, he was ornery and arrogant. He definitely had no sense of propriety. And I’m not even sure he was one of Canaan’s creatures, what with the talking tentacles coming out of his back. I can’t be sure that Balian was merely one creature. But…I sigh as I write this…I liked him.

I liked Balian. I wanted to learn from him. He was my best chance at becoming an arcanist. His knowledge was so vast and his power so profound, that I could have become one of Turgos’ greatest wizards under his tutelage. This is a completely selfish thought, I realize this. And thankfully, enough time has gone by since I experienced these thoughts that I have been able to process them and acknowledge my own weakness. I have prayed for forgiveness, and I dare say it was granted. Canaan had other plans for me, of this I was sure. The path I would have gone down had Balian become my teacher would have lead to oblivion. But I get ahead of myself.

The abomination that Lilian had become seemed to observe all of us intently. She ignored Talon’s attentions and focused instead on our communications. I remember doubting at the time that she could possibly understand us. In retrospect, it was quite a foolish underestimation.

Lilian quietly moved with the grace of a cat over to Hu Li and observed him, cocking her head slightly as she moved up and down his length. Her hand shot out so quickly, nobody could stop her. She grabbed Hu Li’s chest in her hand. What happened next is hard to explain. Pulses of purple energy shot down her arm into Hu Li. Hu Li’s body jerked with each pulse and he screamed.

It was over in seconds. Everyone was stunned, uncomprehending of what had just happened.

Hu Li opened his eyes then. His irises had turned purple!

“You, my dear, are a goddess.” Hu Li rose as he spoke, apparently cured of his afflictions.

The abomination that Lilian had become merely turned and looked at me.

“Take me home.” It said without expression.

I was silent, stunned. We must have looked absurd to this creature with our mouths agape in uncomprehending wonder.

“This body is cold, like your world. And your minds are puny. Take me to this Ebon Mirror. I must cross The Threshold. You will help me.” It continued in a flat, emotionless voice.

Gathering composure somewhat, I ventured a question. “W-who are you?” I asked.

“My name is impossible to pronounce in your language. Adress me as…Illyria.”

This couldn’t be good.

 

[Canaan]

Chapter 39: Return to Balian's Tower

My first thought was to tend to Hu Li, make sure he was alright. I hurried over to the mage and put my hand on his elbow with a questioning look. I was concerned for his health and more than a little discomfited by his newly purpled irises.

In typical Hu Li fashion, my concern was rebuffed as he jerked his elbow away from me. “What, priest? If I wanted to be touched by you, I would become your altar boy.” Hu Li screeched.

I suddenly didn’t care anymore whether or not Hu Li was well. My face felt warm under the mage’s rebuff. If my mind hadn’t been pre-occupied with trying to intellectualize what was happening with Lilian, or Illyria, I might have lost my temper. Instead, I turned to Illyria, questions filling my mind. “What of our friend, Lilian, the one who’s body you possess?”

“Lilian doesn’t live here anymore. This sack of water and sponge was empty when I arrived.” Illyria responded.

The callous response took me off-guard and before I could ask another question, Illyria asked, “Which way is it to the Ebon Mirror?”

I pointed toward Balian’s Tower.

Illyria immediately began walking in that direction.

Spurred into action by her departure, I quickly began gathering our things and saw that the others did the same. We ran after her.

“What is that thing?” Rin asked Hu Li.

Hu Li turned to the Dark-Sider, eyes blazing with intensity. “You cannot possibly comprehend what that creature is, demon. Revel in its magnificence.”

“You keep speaking of an Ebon Mirror. Where was this Ebon Mirror?” Shallahai asked me in a conspiratorial tone. “I don’t remember seeing a mirror in the ritual chamber.”

“It was the black pool under the floor.” I answered patiently with the knowledge I had obtained from the Book of Abu Abai. “Balian was its guardian. That is why he did not leave the tower. The mirror cannot be moved. It is fixed in place.”

I continued. “Balian was trying to leave for some purpose. That is why he summoned the Horror to guard the mirror in his absence. From his scribblings in the margins of the Book, I gather it has something to do with his sister and Kharas’Voorhies.”

“I didn’t know he had a sister.” Hu Li piped up, clearly eavesdropping on our conversation.

I sighed. “She and Kharas’Voorhies were apparently in love when Kharas’Voorhies lived. And she disappeared on his death. Balian theorizes that she is still in Turgos and fears that she has been transformed by the lich into some abomination. He seeks to obtain information on her whereabouts in the realm of insanity by consulting some sage-like creature.” I explained.

We traveled through the alien landscape to Balian’s Tower. I sunk into myself in an effort to block out the sights I saw. It gave me the opportunity to think things through. I had witnessed a servant of Canaan and good friend killed and possessed by an entity of apparently great and terrible power. What had gone wrong to get us to this point? I was traveling through the afterbirth of a realm that had no business in this dimension, a realm I had briefly experienced once before and had hoped never to experience again, but such was not Canaan’s plan for me. I should have been carrying Lilian’s corpse to Soliel to the Voice and Will. I should have been atoning for my weakness in the temples. I should have been trying to convert the Dark Sider, Rin, or at least trying to save his immortal soul. I should have been trying to warn the Duke that it is possible that those that worship the Sleeping Gods in the land to the south are planning an invasion of Turgos. I should have been fulfilling my penance as demanded by Archbishop Tagavarius to discover the Adversarial plot that threatened Turgos. So why didn’t I do those things? Why was traveling to the place of my likely death to assist an abomination that had taken control of my former best friend’s corpse?

It was because I was curious.

Canaan help me, but that was why I did what I did. Curiosity. It was at that moment that I first realized that my decisionmaking process was flawed or becoming corrupted. I no longer approached decisionmaking from the perspective of duty. I have been a terrible example to myself and the others. I was failing as a priest. Canaan forgive me.

Once at the tower, we saw what had become of the giant ducks that lived outside of the tower. They had tripled in size, their eyes were bloodshot and their tongues were black and pointed, like a tentacle. They flapped their wings furiously and attacked us on sight.

It was over before it began.

Illyria moved with the speed and grace of a jungle cat. She surveyed the field and with an outstretched hand, palm forward, she swept the entire field of the dozen or so terrifying giant flightless birds. The next instant she was standing over the dead creatures without so much as a scratch on her. I didn’t actually see her do anything. One second the flightless birds were alive and attacking, the next they were dead, necks broken. Nobody had moved, except Illyria. It was as if she moved faster than time, itself.

“H-how, did you do that?” I asked.

Illyria did not answer. She kept walking toward the Tower, approaching the drawbridge.

I looked at Shallahai questioningly. He merely shrugged his shoulders and followed Illyria.

Furniture was overturned and strewn everywhere. We heard a shriek coming from the great dining hall. Running to the source of the sound, we entered the hall and saw Orolde crouched behind a large section of the broken, charred and overturned dining table, the table at which he had once dined when Lilian was alive. A large brain-like creature hovered in the air on the other side of the table. Its mass was interrupted by a protruding beak that shrieked loudly as it dodged a blue-white ray of frost that Orolde emitted from his pointed index finger as he shouted arcane syllables. Long tentacles draped from the bottom of the creature and hung to the floor. Orolde was bruised and bleeding from several scrapes. His finery was ripped and dirty.

Rin blasted it with a bolt of purplish arcane energy, drawing its attention to us. I drew my mace as Shallahai stepped up, calling on the power of the Green to bolster him as he drew Yundir. Talon took a defensive stance, ready to intercept the creature should it choose to engage any of us. As the creature advanced, tentacles quivering in rage, intent on grappling the Dark Sider that had injured it, Talon was a flurry of punches and kicks. The creature was unprepared for the full fury of the monk and fell to his blows.

Orolde came out from under the table, breathing heavily. “Thank you. Oh thank you! I thought I was done for until you arrived.”

“What is happening here?” Shallahai asked. “Where is Balian?”

“Balian and the Horror, they are trapped in a never-ending contest of wills within the Ebon Mirror. They must be dislodged from the Mirror and the Mirror allowed to close.” Orolde pleaded with us.

“Assuming that is possible, what will become of Balian?” Talon asked.

“I don’t know. He could be killed by the backlash. He could be shunted into the Realm of Insanity. He could be killed by the Horror.” Orolde posited. “But he spoke to me in my mind just before all of this happened. ‘Have no worry about me, my friend, for the sake of all of Turgos, the Ebon Mirror must be closed’ He said. I don’t have the strength or the power. I don't have enough command of magic!”

“We must try.” I was firmly committed to this course of action. We needed to get the creature possessing Lilian out of her body and we needed to stop the dimensional bleeding. Closing the mirror accomplished both of those things.

Illyria looked around, as if sensing something. Suddenly, she turned toward the stairs to the basement and walked rapidly and purposely toward them, to the Summoning Chamber.

We quickly followed. There was no time to debate our purpose or our tactics and I was silently relieved by that fact. I wasn’t entirely sure I could diplomatically suffer any opposition to my plan.

The stone floor of the chamber was still open in the middle of the room, revealing the still black waters of the Ebon Mirror. Above the pool Balian and the Horror stood in seeming stasis, locked in eternal combat. Balian’s tentacles grappled with the Horror’s. The Horror’s mouth was gaping open as if it would take Balian’s head off. Balian’s forehead was furrowed in concentration and his lips seemed to be in the process of mouthing a spell.

We stopped at the door and marveled at the grotesque sight. I knew what to do and would not be swayed from my course. I quickly barked instructions at the others, telling them to form a circle around the pool, just as before. I then opened the Book of Abu-Abai and began incanting the words necessary for the ritual to close the mirror.

A white column of fire shot up from the pool towering toward the ceiling. This was the part of the ritual by which the mirror would be closed. The thrum of power was deafening. Our bodies were vibrating with potency as the magic lashed from one to another of us.

But something wasn’t right. I felt resistance to the incantation. It was like two magnets coming together. They are drawn together initially, but repelled when they get to close. Like two magnets, the magic seemed to pass over the Mirror and not penetrate it.

“Somehow we have to get them out of the Mirror. Balian and that creature have wedged open the Mirror in their struggle.” I yelled over the thrum of power now emanating from all of us.

“It has to be done now!” I yelled desperately, barely containing the arcane magicks I had conjured.

Everything began to slow down, nearly to a halt. My movements and those of everyone and everything else around me slowed and ground to a halt. In that moment, Illyria ran, with the speed of a cheetah, into the pool and bull rushed both Balian and the Horror.

 

[iStrider]

Great updates!!! Keep them coming!

 

[Canaan]

Chapter 40: The Gift

A flash of energy burst forth from the Mirror, blasting all of us roughly back. When we recovered, Balian, the Horror and Illyria were gone and the Mirror was closed. The column of white fire was extinguished. I grimaced, as I got up and looked around the chamber.

Balian and Lilian’s body were gone. They were trapped in the Realm of Insanity with no way to return. I had sentenced them to a fate worse than death. I lowered my head in despair.

Shallahai must have seen the look on my face. “It was not your fault, Evora. You could not have known the result of the ritual.” The druid tried to soothe me. But his words were nothing to me. I knew the risk. Orolde warned us.

A wry, self-depracating retort was on my lips, when Hu Li cried out. “Oh by the Eyeless Hollow Ones, priest! You should never have tried to master such powerful magics. They are well beyond your puny ability to comprehend the Art! Now, look upon oblivion!”

Startled by his expression, I looked at the mage. His eyes were wide and he was pointing to the center of the pool. A spark of energy pulsed in the air. It grew as we stared at it, bulbous, like a growth of purple algae. As we stared further, the growth became the size of a child’s ball, then it grew to the size of a lockbox, then a chest. We all began to back up. Had the mirror not closed?

A squishing sound began to emanate from the growth as it reached the size of a human. It started heaving as it squished, like it was trying to cough something up, its heaves becoming increasingly forceful, building into a crescendo that ended with Lilian’s body being expelled from it in a cascade of slimy liquid smelling of bleach! Canaan be praised!

A shared a look of ecstatic surprise with Shallahai and when I turned back to the body, my heart sunk at what I saw emerge from the heaving sphincter. A jellyfish like creature emerged above Lilian’s body, making a slurping sound as it entered our world. But it did not attack. It merely hovered there for a moment. I looked questioningly at Hu Li. But his gaze was transfixed on the creature.

Then it spoke in our minds.

Thank you for your assistance in showing me the way home. This sack of water and sponge does not belong in my realm. I find your emotional interaction with it interesting. I would study this interaction if I could tolerate your harsh climate. Perhaps I will return some day. In the meantime, I have returned to the sack its power source. It should function without assistance, now.

The jellyfish-like creature disappeared back into the rift. The Ebon Mirror was still and silent.

Lilian gasped for breath and her chest rose and fell. Tears of joy fell undeterred down my face as I wept for joy.

And Hu Li fainted dead away.

“Magics beyond his puny ability to comprehend, indeed!” Shallahai sneered at the mage as the thud of his head hitting the stone floor echoed through the chamber.

I fell to my knees in praise to Canaan.

 

[iStrider]

More, more, I want more!

 

[Canaan]

Chapter 41: Homecomings

Several weeks have passed since I last wrote and much has happened in that time. Lilian apparently remembered nothing of the time after her death or the means of her return to us. She continues to believe it was by Canaan’s will that she was returned to us. So be it. I am just overjoyed to have her back, by whatever means that was made possible. Though, I did maintain a healthy kernel of doubt in the back of my mind that there would be some unknown price to pay for the beneficence of the creature that returned her to us, and an equally healthy kernel of concern that Lilian would not be quite right now that she had been dead and returned by such unorthodox means. I kept both my doubt and concern to myself, because, well, it’s what I do.

Hu Li practically ignored me, refusing to communicate directly with me, taking instead to enlisting the aid of the others when he absolutely needed to speak with me, despite the fact that I was present. It was in this manner that Hu Li eagerly announced that he would stay at Balian’s tower since the ancient wizard was gone. We were all eating dinner one night—a succulent glazed duck served as the main course—when Hu Li made his announcement. “Shallahai, please tell the priest that I shall remain in the tower. I find its dankness and seclusion much more palatable than traveling with His Hoity Toity Holiness, the Banisher of the Eyeless Hollow Ones. Besides, there is much here I must do.” he shrieked as he plunged his yellowed teeth into a juicy duck leg, spurting juice across the table. There was a greedy glint in his eye.

Shallahai rolled his eyes and scowled. “Tell him yourself, you childish oaf!” The druid had no patience for the mage’s antics.

I had visions of the upstart mage ransacking the place for Balian’s secret cache of magical power. But I no longer cared what became of the selfish wizard. Let him stay in that tower and rot.

Addressing Rin, Hu Li then announced that he would be claiming possession of Orolde as well. “Rin, please be so kind as to inform the priest that I now own Orolde by virtue of intestate succession. Balian is missing and presumed dead. He does not have an obvious will. Orolde was his servant. The creature is now mine. If the priest objects, please tell him to write his objection on a piece of parchment and I will promptly lodge it in my bunghole.”

I, of course, protested. I found the idea of slavery appalling. Orolde was a living, sentient creature, not some chattel to be bought, sold or escheated. But obstinacy and lack of compassion, being staples of Hu Li’s personality, won out and my arguments fell on deaf ears. In the end, it was Orolde, however, who silenced my protestations.

“It is as the Master wishes.” Orolde said, staring at me as if trying to convey some secret message.

“Yes. Your Master wishes it!” Hu Li screeched, oblivious to the secret message in Orolde’s words.

Of course! That clever wizard! Balian worked something out in advance, knowing that Hu Li would seek to take advantage in the event Balian was gone. Balian was an ancient and wise Archmage. Surely he would have someone he trusted implicitly tend to his affairs in his absence. Perhaps Orolde’s relationship with the Archmage was deeper than I had initially thought. Balian never ceases to amaze me.

I nodded my head. “Very well, then.” I stated. And the matter was over.

Against my better judgment, we stayed a week or so to help Hu Li and Orolde get the disheveled tower back in order and to dispatch any remaining critters from the realm of insanity who sought refuge in the dark and dank places of Balian’s abode. When we had finished, we were more than ready to move on with our lives. I had had about enough as any mortal could take of Hu Li during that time. I don’t know how Orolde will put up with it when we are gone. The affects of the dimensional bleeding had long since disappeared from the countryside. It was as if nothing had ever been amiss.

Shallahai left a few days before we did, mumbling something about Hu Li not being worthy of the air he consumes in his breathing and the world being better off without such a waste of resources. Before he left, however, he told us he would meet us just outside of Goldfire Glen in two days’ time. He said he wanted to speak with Master Baern about what had happened here and thought it best to do so alone.

* * * *

By the time I write this, I have hardened my resolve to fight against the increasingly self-destructive teachings of orthodox Canaanism. If it were not for our intercession, all of the gentle Green-worshipping peoples of Goldfire Glen would have been sacrificed to fuel the self-loathing religious zeal of Father Zeigfried. But I am getting ahead of myself.

As promised, Shallahai met us outside of Goldfire Glen. He brought dire news of the murder of a Faean prince, the son of some entity called, The Autumn Queen. Despite his dire news, the druid seemed well rested and more comfortable with his surroundings.

“I heard weeping off of the trail on my way back from my visit with Master Baern, so I stopped to investigate.” Shallahai explained.

“It was Peasblossom. He and several other pixies were flitting around the corpse of Raelanthas, the Autumn Prince. The pixies didn’t recognize me at first and attacked. I removed my cowl and called on The Green to calm them. They came out of their enraged state and began crying at my feet.” Shallahai explained.

“What manner of royalty is The Autumn Prince?” Lilian asked. “I don’t recognize that title among the nobility of Turgos.”

“That is because it is no mortal title, my friend.” Shallahai responded. The Autumn Queen is one of the four Faean that rule the Faean Court in the Land of Fae Rie.”

Lilian looked thoughtful as if trying to place the Land of Fae Rie in her mind.

“The Land of Fae Rie does not appear on any map. Or perhaps more appropriately, it is on every map.” Shallahai explained with a childish grin.

Lilian was utterly confused.

“Fae Rie is a dimension that exists co-terminus with Turgos. A veil separates the Land of Fae Rie from ours, but the landscape is the same. No buildings or villages or towns or cities, as Turgosians know them, exist in Fae Rie. Rather, vast glades and glens and tree forests form the towns and cities of Fae Rie, where pixies paint the trees the nymphs populate the lakes and rivers and satyrs and fawns play and copulate. Fae Rie is The Green’s reflection of Turgos.” Shallahai explained.

“The Faean Court is responsible for maintaining the seasons and cycles of Turgos. Each Faean, each creature of Fae Rie, has a role to play in the changing of the seasons. Peasblossom, whom you’ve met, for example, is responsible for making the peas blossom in the spring. He does this by telling them little pixie jokes until they cannot contain themselves any longer and burst open with laughter.” Shallahai continued.

“Well, what does it mean that the Autumn Prince has been murdered?” I asked.

“Another will take his place, for sure.” Shallahai responded. “But The Autumn Queen will be quite angry, as it looks like her son may have been killed by a mortal.”

“A mortal? Who would do such a thing?” I asked. “Surely no common man would do that, perhaps it was one of the Orcus-worshippers or Kharas Voorhies’s minions.”

Shallahai’s face darkened. “Regardless of which mortal did it or what that mortal’s motivations were, these are difficult times and word of intolerance in Turgos toward The Green has made its way to the Autumn Queen’s ear. It is entirely possible that she will view this event as the last straw and lead a war against Turgos.”

“How do you know this, Shallahai?” Talon asked.

“I have spoken with the pixies and learned much of what has been happening. I do not believe Goldfire Glen will welcome one such as me.” The druid looked then at Rin and gestured to the Darksider. “Or him.”

“We will, of course, do what we can to solve this murder. Perhaps the Queen will be appeased by the arrest and imprisonment of the mortal that killed her son.” Lillian offered.

“I’m afraid you don’t know the Fae very well, Lilian.” Shallahai said, ominously.

“Is there any chance that Raelanthas’s murderer was not a mortal?” Rin asked.

“It is possible.” Shallahai responded. “I found some curious clues when I investigated the area where his body was found.” But the druid didn’t seem convinced. “We need to get to Goldfire Glen.”

* * * *

We returned to Goldfire Glen weary. It turned out that none of them had any idea of the crisis that had just been averted, that they had come within a hair’s breadth of sinking into a realm of insanity. But had you, the reader, not known the fate that could have been theirs, you would think, based on the scene we witnessed upon entering town, that that fate had indeed come to pass; such was the insanity we came upon.

In preparation for our homecoming, we of course, disguised Rin. Returning to town with a demon in tow would not have been advisable in even the best of times, and these were certainly not those. Rin entered town disguised as a new initiate in Talon’s order, complete with brown robe, gloves, boots and deep hood. We, likewise, disguised Shallahai. So Talon had two ‘apprentices’ in tow when he arrived. To further minimize the risk of exposure, we decided to enter the village just before dawn.

The Evenflow River, with its crystal clear waters, ran sedately through a verdant meadow, dividing the edge of the plain from the small village of Goldfire Glen lying across the span of a wide stone bridge. Even in the early moments just before dawn, there was movement on the outskirts of the village, townsfolk awake and starting their daily chores. Over the cool northern breeze, we could make out the sounds of cattle in the distance; the livestock also awakening as a number of roosters threw back their heads and began a chorus to welcome the sun.

Oddly, in the center of town, a crowd gathered around a charismatic figure, giving an impassioned speech. It was Father Zeigfried. He was standing on the outer rim of the ancient marble fountain that adorned the center of town. The fountain’s main feature was a giant white statue of the Angel Cilestriel, said to be a messenger from Canaan who came to the people of Goldfire Glen long ago in a time of darkness and despair and gave them hope. Age and the elements had not dulled the statue’s beauty. It was carved by Goldfire Glen’s greatest artisan of the time, Lucien Vannos. His descendents are said to still reside in Goldfire Glen, practicing the family trade.

The beauty and tranquility of the fountain laid in stark contrast to the ugliness that spewed from Father Zeigfried’s mouth. He stood on the rim of the fountain, flanked by two Justicars. His lips were turned down into a condescending scowl that eyed the crowd with the indignation of a disappointed parent. He was a short, thin man with a long sallow face, but the height advantage granted by his perch gave him the illusion of greater presence and allowed his harsh grating voice to carry above the gathered crowd.

I scanned the crowd. In their eyes was a mixture of fear and anger at Father Zeigfried’s words.

“Hear me!” shouted the white-robed priest of Canaan. “I told you this would happen! I warned you that the faean could not be trusted.” He held up a scroll, waving it over his head as his other hand waved to encompass the rest of the villagers. “It is written in the sacred texts, ‘Trust thee not the wiles of the wicked ones, for their tongues speaketh only of deception. Their lies shall lead thee directly into the pits of darkness, for death can be the only reward for those who would listen to their words’.”

The villagers all responded with a shout of agreement, raising their own hands overhead as they echo his words. Father Zeigfried turned, his finger shooting out to indicate a hut in the distance, around which were posted Justicars brandishing both gleaming weapons and blazing torches.

“Tonight, we found the bodies of a family… our friends… who have been ruthlessly slaughtered in their sleep.” I shared a quick look with the druid, seeing the color drain from his face. Could this be what he feared, why he knew we needed to get to Goldfire Glen as quickly as possible?

“Our neighbors, who worked with us in the fields, are dead at the hands of the FAEAN!” Zeigfried punctuated his words by once more throwing his hands to the heavens and turning back towards the gathered villagers, “The wicked ones have returned, and it is our sacred duty to drive them from our homes, our hearts and our souls once and forever!”

Shallahai’s face darkened dangerously. He looked like a madman about to attack Zeigfried. But just as it seemed Father Zeigfried was about to lead the villagers directly toward the guarded hut, an imposing figure stepped from inside the hut, heading purposefully towards the gathering. Wearing a golden cloak thrown over his left shoulder, the shining fabric visible even in the dim light, he approached purposefully, raising his voice to be heard over the shouting, “Zeigfried, that’s enough! There is nothing to be gained by this right now. All the rest of you, go back to your homes, let the guard take care of this.”

“Captain Tiberon, the people have a right to know what is going on,” the young priest replied angrily, but he was interrupted by yet another voice.

“Tiberon, Zeigfried, both of you, stop it.” A third figure emerged into the village center, the villagers clearing a path for the nobleman. Around his neck was a medallion bearing the symbol of one of the noble houses of Turgos. It was Lord Derren Underhill, baron of Goldfire Glen. Pale eyes turned first from the priest to the guard captain and back again, “This is not helping anyone.” That same gaze was turned upon the villagers, who suddenly seemed to find the ground extremely interesting as they ruefully shuffled their feet. “Go home, everyone, it’s almost dawn and time to get to work. We cannot allow this … atrocity… to interrupt our daily routines. Let the guard take care of what needs to be done, please.

At the baron’s words, the villagers began to disperse, casting looks back towards the guard captain or the priest before disappearing into their own homes. Just then, the old man’s pale eyes fell on us, a curious glint was in his eye, as he regarded us fully. Father Zeigfried and Captain Tiberon noticed the barren’s gaze, following it to us.

“Lady Lillian,” The baron began with a gracious bow. “It seems you have come back to us at a difficult time.” He continued, gesturing to the hut and the captain and the priest in one fluid motion.

The baron’s gaze turned to me, then. “Ah, and Father Evora, what a pleasant surprise.” The glint in the baron’s eye remained. Father Zeigfried spat on the ground.

“We could use Canaan’s guidance in these trying times. He has obviously chosen this time to send one of His chosen, and her personal confessor, to guide us through these troubled times.”

I looked down at the fountain’s inscription as the crowd dispersed. It read:

And in humanity’s darkest hour, amidst fear and violence,
Canaan shall send his emissary from the heaven’s above
And save mankind from the oppression of its own intolerance.​

My course was clear. My purpose, revealed. I would not abandon the people of Goldfire Glen. I would not rest until the peace and tranquility of Goldfire Glen was restored. I looked at Lord Underhill and responded. “Yes, my lord. We will, of course, do what is required to put this matter to rest and, if appropriate, dispel any notion that it is the doing of the Faean.”

Father Zeigfried turned on his heel in a huff and proceeded to the castle with his two attendant Justicars in tow.

Captain Tiberon breathed a sigh of relief.