The string of red-clad soldiers wound through the city to the Temple of Vand. The line ran around the temple and into a huge cavernous room through the rear entrance. Lady Mystic and Aakuta stood in the center of the room watching the procession. At the end of the room opposite the entrance, Emperor Vand stood mumbling words as he took a soldier’s right wrist into his hand. A small curl of smoke rose from the contact, and the soldier jolted slightly. Vand dropped the man’s wrist and waited for the next soldier to step forward so he could repeat the procedure.
The recently processed soldier shook his head as he fought the pain that had been inflicted on him. After a few seconds, he walked forward to a long table and picked up the clothes that had been laid out for him. He turned silently and marched towards the rear exit from the temple where Clarvoy and Santiock waited for him. General Santiock stared at the soldier as the man halted in front of him.
“Brown and yellow uniform,” General Santiock announced.
“He will be impersonating a soldier of the Kamaril clan of Khadora,” declared Clarvoy. “He will not be leaving until tomorrow.”
“Return to your barracks,” ordered General Santiock. “Report to the docks at daybreak.”
The soldier nodded silently and marched out the door. Already the next hellsoul was approaching the general.
“Simple black cloak,” announced General Santiock.
“I have need of him tonight,” Clarvoy smiled mischievously. “Send him to the docks.”
Suddenly, the crazed commander raced into the temple, his red uniform torn and ragged and his wide-open eyes focusing on nothing. The man’s mouth was twisted grotesquely and drool ran down his chin. The guards moved quickly to halt his progress. Two spears pierced the man’s side and a sword slashed across his abdomen. The commander fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Seconds later, he rose and began running again, his entrails hanging through his fresh wound. The guards seized him and dragged him out of the temple. Vand looked briefly at the distraction and instantly returned to processing the long line of soldiers.
“What a horrible existence,” remarked Aakuta from the center of the room. “How long will he exist like that?”
“As I said before,” smiled Lady Mystic. “He will not be allowed to die until Vand feels the punishment has been met. Such is the price to pay for betraying a god.”
“A rather heavy price,” Aakuta remarked. “It was humorous at first, but it grows tiring now.”
“It is meant to grate on your nerves, Aakuta,” smiled Lady Mystic. “For some reason Vand does not trust you. I can’t imagine why.”
“Nor can I,” scowled Aakuta. “I have tried to be helpful to the Emperor. I have studied your spells and potions. I have even offered my advice on how to improve them. My every action has been to make Vand’s operation more successful, but he insists on sending fools to the mainland. Can he not see the destruction he is doing to his own cause?”
“Do you think he cares about his losses?” laughed Lady Mystic. “Vand is thousands of years old, Aakuta. His playing in Khadora and its neighboring countries brings amusement to him. It really doesn’t matter in the end what the Torak does. So he unites the pitiful armies of Khadora, so what? They still will be unable to defend against what Vand is going to throw at them. The same is true of the Sakovans and the Fakarans. In fact, maybe their newfound organization will make the war more enjoyable.”
“Are you telling me that my advice is rejected even though he knows that I am right?” asked the dark mage.
“Vand doesn’t want your advice,” replied Lady Mystic. “He wants you to be excited about his projects. Oh, your advice might be desirable when it conflicts with his other advisors as that makes for an interesting exchange, but he will not alter his methods because you think your ways are better.”
“So he is going to send these thousands of hellsouls to the mainland just for excitement?” questioned Aakuta.
“Mostly,” nodded Lady Mystic. “Oh, Clarvoy will make good use of them no doubt, but it is the excitement Vand desires. Think about it. It is really a brilliant plan. Thousands of assassins roaming the mainland causing death and destruction, and they will not be able to be killed. Imagine the havoc this will cause. It almost makes me want to go and watch.”
“How does Vand get his excitement from this?” inquired Aakuta. “What gain does he get when he cannot witness the havoc?”
“He can somehow,” frowned Lady Mystic. “I do not understand it, but he has a way of seeing what happens. I think he gets visions in that chamber behind the throne room. How the visions come, or how accurate they are, is unknown to me, but he usually has a good feel for what is going on in the mainland.”
“Interesting,” mused Aakuta. “I truly wonder what exists in there.”
“Do not even think about it,” warned Lady Mystic. “You saw what happened to the commander. Your curiosity will be your death, or worse.”
* * *
Rhoda rose from her bed at Raven’s Point and walked to the window. The breeze was coming off the ocean as she leaned out the window. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes as the wind gently blew her long black hair back into the room. As an air mage, Rhoda loved the feel of the wind upon her face. She remained frozen for several minutes as she felt the soft caress of the breeze. Eventually, she opened her eyes and stared into the predawn darkness. The stars overhead twinkled brightly, but she could smell the faint tinge of fog in the air. She pulled back from the window and slipped on a robe.
Rhoda padded softly through the mansion so as not to disturb those who were still sleeping. She nodded to the sentries at the rear door of the mansion, as she did every morning, and pranced out into the darkness. She raced down to the waterfront and ran along the wooden boulevard until it ended. As she leaped onto the sandy beach, she felt the soft sand flow over her toes. She squealed softly with joy as she ran along the beach, away from the mansion. When she reached her favorite cove, she halted and spun in a circle, letting her arms fly out from her sides.
She inhaled deeply again and closed her eyes. The breeze was almost nonexistent in the cove and a frown fell over her face. As an air mage, she loved the feel of the wind. She stared upward and could not see the stars. The smell of fog was strong, and she looked down and gazed upon the sea. She could just make out some wisps of fog just offshore. She sighed with resignation and began to take off her robe for her morning dip.
A foreign sound echoed softly through the fog, and Rhoda froze. She tilted her head as if to hear better, but the sound was already gone. She remained unmoving for several long moments, hoping to hear it again.
Suddenly, she heard the air ripping apart to her right. She whirled to face the noise, her mouth opening to scream, but it was too late. The freeze ball slammed into the air mage, instantly halting any movement. Her open eyes stared through the ice as she watched helplessly. Several men dressed in dark colors ran towards her. She could barely make out the shapes moving in the darkness, but there was nothing she could do about it.
Four men seized her frozen frame and lifted it off the beach. They carried her swiftly along the beach to a waiting boat. She saw two other men already in the boat as her capturers lowered her to the floor. The sounds that filtered through the ice were grossly distorted. The men spoke briefly, but she could not understand what they were saying. What she did understand was that her life was about to change, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
* * *
“Great shot!” congratulated Huckel. “Both of you are excellent archers.”
“It was a fair shot,” grumbled Caldal as he held the bow away from himself and stared at it. “If you humans had a decent bow, I would show you what an elf could do.”
“If you can tell me how to make a better bow,” offered the Khadoran trainer, “I would have on made for you.”
“These bows will do,” replied Caldal with a shake of his head.
“Aye,” nodded Huckel, “you do well with them. Anyway, it is time for you to head up to the Emperor’s office. “Come back when you have time. I would like to learn how you shoot so well.”
Caldal did not reply as he turned and strode off. Eltor ran to catch up to him.
“Why were you so cold to Huckel?” asked Eltor. “He was kind enough to you.”
“He just wants to learn our elven secrets,” scowled Caldal. “I will tell these humans nothing.”
“Your mind creates enemies where none exist,” scolded Eltor. “These humans do not hate us, and Huckel was just genuinely interested. He was not trying to pry secrets out of you when he offered to make you a bow. He was trying to please you.”
“And what about learning our secrets of accuracy?” retorted Caldal. “You heard him say that he wants to learn how we do it.”
“Of course he does,” Eltor shook his head in frustration. “If you saw someone doing something better than you, wouldn’t you want to learn how it was done? Huckel trains soldiers from all over Khadora. If he can learn better ways of doing something, he is eager to do so. I admire him for that. He really cares about teaching his men the best that he can. Your rudeness to him was insulting.”
“Insulting?” balked Caldal as he halted outside the rear door to the Imperial Palace. “How did I insult him?”
“You insulted me,” Eltor corrected. “After your performance towards him, I am ashamed to be known as an elf. I can only imagine what that man thinks of us now. I suppose he will see all elves as being rude, arrogant, and egotistical.”
“What does it matter what he thinks?” shrugged Caldal. “It is against the law to interact with humans. We are not supposed to be here, and he will never be allowed into Elvangar. Who cares what a human thinks of us?”
“I care,” admitted Eltor. “I know the hatred that was shown to us by the humans of Motanga, but we have seen none of that here in Khadora. In fact, just the opposite is true. Emperor Marak has opened up his palace to us. Our every request is instantly fulfilled. He has given us fine animal-skin clothes and weapons to call our own. Even though you attacked him when we first met, he lets us go armed and unescorted. That is not the mindset of an enemy.”
“But the law…” Caldal began.
“I know the law,” Eltor shouted. “The law also said that we were forbidden to pass the Barrier Islands,” he added more calmly, “but we did so knowingly. Do not hold up the law to me when you willingly break the portions that you want to. We will already face punishment when we return to Elvangar. I will not mistreat these humans for fear of the punishment that I will receive. In fact, I want to learn what I can from them. This is a golden opportunity, Caldal. No one in our lifetime has interacted with these humans. Their entire understanding of elves will be based upon what you and I do here. Do you really wish to create more enemies for our people?”
“But they are humans,” frowned Caldal. “There will never be any relations between them and our people.”
“You may be right,” conceded Eltor, “but you may also be wrong. Elves and humans did live together at one time. Who is to say that it can never happen again?”
“Queen Alycia will not allow it,” Caldal said firmly.
“Do you know her mind so well?” asked Eltor. “What if Emperor Marak is right about an invasion from Motanga? What if Queen Alycia agrees with Emperor Marak? What if she changes the law?”
“I cannot imagine that happening,” Caldal shook his head. “It is just not imaginable.”
“And what if she does want it to be,” posed Eltor, “and we have already poisoned the relationship with the way we treated these humans? Is your stubborn pride worth alienating all humans? Will it burden you so to act cordial to these humans during our stay here?”
“I suppose I could be nicer,” conceded Caldal, “but you ask too much. I cannot feign friendship where none exists.”
“Not even for MistyTrail?” smiled Eltor. “She may be an elf, but she is a product of this land. She has grown up in the land of humans. Are you willing to accept her scorn for the way you treat her friends?”
“Why would she care?” questioned Caldal. “Once she sees Elvangar, she will never return here.”
“I cannot see the future,” declared Eltor, “but I can see the hurt in her face when you are rude to the humans. You must have noticed it.”
“She has been more distant since we arrived here,” admitted Caldal, “but I figured that she chose her human friends over us.”
“It is we who have been more distant,” corrected Eltor. “Ever since we set foot on the human’s ship, we have withdrawn from her and Mistake. I can see it now as I look back on our behavior. I wish I had been able to see it then.”
“You almost sound like you are growing close to these humans,” frowned Caldal. “Next you will be telling them the secrets of Elvangar.”
“No,” Eltor shook his head. “I will never reveal anything that will endanger our people, but I am growing fond of the humans. Think about how we have been treated and then imagine that these people are a lost tribe of elves. How would you feel towards them?”
Caldal thought silently for a moment before answering. “I would feel differently,” he conceded, “but they are not elves.”
“No, they aren’t,” agreed Eltor, “but they have treated us more than fairly. All I ask is that you try to be diplomatic in our relations with these people. You do not have to like them, but try not to hate them. Can you do that?”
“I will try,” nodded Caldal as he opened the door to the palace.
The elves hurried up the staircase and along the corridor to the Emperor’s office. The sentries outside the office nodded politely and opened the door for them. They walked into the office and found a number of people already assembled. Mistake and MistyTrail smiled at the elves as they entered. There were two soldiers dressed in black and silver, the emperor, a person in a black hooded cloak, a sailor wearing black and silver, and a young woman in a simple white robe.
“Welcome,” smiled Emperor Marak. “Our group is now complete. Let me introduce everyone so that we can get to know one another. Our new arrivals are elves from Elvangar. Eltor is on the right; Caldal on the left.”
Everyone stood and turned to face the elves.
“Most of you have already met Mistake and MistyTrail,” the Emperor continued as he nodded towards the two women. “Ophia in the white robe is a mage. Gunta and Halman here are two of the soldiers of my Torak clan, and Captain Mynor is the finest sea captain that I know. He will not be traveling with us, but he needs to know what we discuss here today.”
“If he is for our transport to Elvangar,” interrupted Caldal, “Eltor and I are quite capable of sailing on our own. We just need a ship.”
“Elvangar is not his purpose,” promised the Emperor, “but Motanga might be. I am not yet sure what role he will play, but I think it prudent for him to be aware of what is going on.”
Caldal nodded sheepishly and turned to see if Eltor was glaring at him.
“The last member of our expedition is Axor,” the Emperor continued as he nodded to the hooded man. “He is a Chula shaman from the Pfledor tribe.”
“With the exception of Captain Mynor,” asked Eltor, “are we all going to Angragar?”
“Yes,” answered Emperor Marak. “We will also be joined by others as we get closer. We will meet up with some Fakarans after we cross the Fortung Mountains. A contingent of Sakovans will also join us in Fakara. They will be traveling there by ship.”
“Who is coming from the Sakova?” asked MistyTrail.
“Lyra and three others,” answered the Emperor. “I do not know the identity of the others. It will be whoever Lyra decides.”
“And Rejji?” asked Mistake.
“He and three others will meet us in Fakara,” nodded Emperor Marak. “Again, I do not know who he will choose.”
“This seems like a lot of people just to read scrolls,” frowned Eltor. “Is all of this necessary?”
“That is not the only reason for our trip to Angragar,” replied Emperor Marak. “I believe that the Torak, the Astor, and the Star must journey there together. I am not sure what will happen, but I could not ask Rejji or Lyra to travel without protection. The party is as small as I could make it.”
The door to the office opened and an Imperial soldier entered. Instead of approaching the Emperor, he turned and walked the length of the room to the door leading to the living quarters of the Emperor. He opened the door and walked through it, closing it behind him.
“Are we going to meet Rejji in Ghala?” asked Mistake.
“Much has happened in Fakara since you left, Mistake,” smiled the Emperor. “Rejji has already built two more cities. The city of Meliban now sits at the mouth of the Meliban River, and the city of Taggot was built at the mouth of that river. It is not yet determined where we will meet Rejji. If you will excuse me for a moment, I must attend to something.”
Emperor Marak walked across the floor and opened the door to the living quarters. He passed through the door and closed it.
“I assume that this is important?” asked the Emperor.
“I would not interrupt otherwise,” answered the Imperial soldier.
“Very well, Fisher,” nodded the Emperor. “What is it?”
“There have been random murders throughout Khadora,” answered the Torak spy.
“I have heard reports about them,” nodded the Emperor.
“Yes,” continued Fisher, “but you did not hear that the assassins were hellsouls.”
“Hellsouls?” Emperor Marak echoed with surprise. “They should not be outside Angragar. How did they escape?”
“They are not from Angragar,” replied Fisher. “They are from Motanga, and there are more coming, many more. I am sure you will understand their purpose.”
“To create havoc throughout the country,” nodded the Emperor. “They will do exactly that, too.”
“Vand has also discovered your use of air tunnels,” Fisher continued. “He will seek to use them for himself. He may also try to disrupt your use of them.”
“How could he possibly know about our air tunnels?” asked the Emperor.
“I do not know,” admitted Fisher, “but it gets worse. An air mage from Raven’s Point is missing. Where she normally takes her morning stroll, patches of ice were found in the sand. I suspect that she was abducted so that Vand can learn the workings of the air tunnel. Your communications may no longer be secure.”
“That changes much,” frowned Emperor Marak. “We have become very dependent upon those air tunnels. If he can intercept our messages, we will suffer great losses. It will even be worse if he can disrupt our ability to send messages. We must discover an alternative method of communications.”
“I will travel to the mage school when I leave here,” offered Fisher. “Perhaps they can figure something out.”
“Good,” nodded the Emperor. “Any ideas on how we can combat the hellsouls? Rejji’s staff and the Sword of Torak appear to be the only weapons that can kill them.”
“I am working on it,” answered the spy.
“Alright,” replied Emperor Marak. “The group in my office is going with me to Angragar. I want to be kept current on what you discover. We can use Fardale to channel messages. Check in with them once a day.”
“Do you trust the elves?” asked Fisher. “That Caldal is one that I would watch.”
“He is headstrong,” shrugged the Emperor, “but I think his heart is in the right place. He is just trying to protect his people. I do not hold that against him.”
“You would be wise to be cautious with him,” warned Fisher. “If he thinks you mean harm to the elven people, he will strike without a second thought.”
“I suspect that Eltor would as well if they truly thought I was their enemy,” nodded the Emperor. “I hope to prove to them that I am not.”
“Keep Gunta and Halman close at all times,” advised Fisher. “I do not want to lose the Torak over some petty misunderstanding.”
“And I thought your concern was for me personally,” Emperor Marak chided sarcastically.
“It always is,” grinned the Torak spy, “but this is more important than even you now. The whole known world is riding on your shoulders, Marak. Always remember that your death means the death of thousands. Do not tempt fate.”
“I will try not to,” promised the Emperor. “I offer the same caution to you, my friend. I would not have been able to do what I have done without your help. Keep yourself healthy.”
Fisher nodded and opened the door for the Emperor. He would wait a respectable time before leaving the living quarters himself.
Emperor Marak reentered his office and walked to his desk. The chatter that had existed in the room died as he entered and everyone looked expectantly at him.
“Are there any questions about this journey?” asked the Emperor.
“When do we leave?” asked Eltor.
“We leave at first light,” answered Emperor Marak. “Anyone that needs to requisition weapons should do so today. We travel with only what we can carry on our horses. We will not have a pack train, so keep it light.”
There were no further questions and everyone left the room. Mistake and MistyTrail joined up with the elves as they walked down the stairs.
“Are you two alright with this plan?” asked Mistake. “You have been out of sorts lately.”
“We are,” smiled Eltor. “Please understand that this is hard on us. Our laws prohibit what we are doing now. We will be punished when we return to Elvangar.”
“No punishment can be as bad as what we saved you from in Motanga,” MistyTrail said as she locked eyes with Caldal.
Caldal frowned stubbornly for a moment and then nodded his head in agreement.
“I owe you my life,” he declared. “I know that I have acted rudely since arriving here. Eltor has already rebuked me for doing so, but I cannot wash away the years of training that I grew up with. I will try to behave. Correct me gently when you see me straying from your good graces.”
“I will try gently at first,” grinned MistyTrail. “I hope you are quick at adjusting. I would hate to have to beat some sense into you.”
“Your attempts at it could be fun,” chuckled Caldal in his first display of merriment since entering Khadora. “Perhaps we should practice this afternoon before we pack for the trip?”