EXODUS, a short story
(DISCLAIMER: The following story takes place between books 1 and 2 of the Eric Elmoor Saga. If you have yet to read "Eric Elmoor and The Gauntlet of Godric" it is highly recommended that you do.)
Ash rained down from the sky like a gruesome snow blanketing the blackened ground. Lillian did not waver as she peered out from the last remaining sanctuary in the elven territories. It was an old village that had been abandoned long ago before the various elven tribes had united and migrated to Fairwood.
It was known as Salwin and was situated in a deep gulch scraping the borders of the Darklands and the dwarf territories. Kahmel had thought that the secluded nature of Salwin would provide the elves with the perfect hiding spot from Derex and his forces.
He was wrong.
When the battle for Fairwood was over, and families had finished mourning their dead, Kahmel, the warrior general who was now the leader of the elves, ordered that everyone evacuate the forest to seek refuge from any re-attack that Derex and his horde might have planned.
They first moved along the coast so that they may be within range of the Shattered Channel to take advantage of the abundance of sea-life in case the game became scarce. As they continued north, they came along an ancient cave that legend had it was where the dwarves and elves first quarreled long ago and the centuries long rivalry between the races began. Deepnure it was called and it was immense enough to fit all of the elves within it.
There was a time where peace had begun to reemerge and the wounds of the battle of Fairwood began to fade little by little. It did not last. Derex and his forces had caught them unawares, and with the sea at their backs, they were cornered.
The fight was bloody as more elves lost their lives to the undead horde who were under Derex's command. Fortunately, most of the elves were able to escape the battle by way of a hidden cave within Deepnure that ushered them away from the bloodshed.
From there they moved south, then north, then west; all in a vain attempt to outrun Derex but it was pointless. Derex, having been apart of the Fairwood army once, was well versed in all of the locations where the elves may hide if they needed.
Lillian knew this and pleaded with Kahmel to seek out aid from anyone who would be willing – perhaps someone might give them sanctuary. The warrior general still clung to his selfish pride and would hear none of it – saying that the elves would endure. At one point Lillian even contemplated on leaving on her own accord to speak with anyone she could find to help but she found herself being more and more depended upon by her people.
Healing wounds and mending spirits for those who lost someone in the various battles began to consume her time. She knew her place was here with her people and she could not abandon them. But her discontent with Kahmel's leadership did not wane in the least.
As they marched across the plains of the elven territories the children and the elderly became tired on their feet. Hardly any sustenance had presented itself on the way toward the gulch and Kahmel refused to send out a hunting party for fear that Derex may strike while they were still in the open. Many fell to the ground from exhaustion, others from lack of water, but all of them grew in their wroth toward the warrior general.
The air was palpable with the ire that fomented amongst them but hardly anyone had said a word in defiance.
“I sense something troubles you,” said a weathered voice over Lillian's shoulder.
Lillian looked to find a pleasant, elderly face bearing a smile that soothed her heart like few others could in the past few months. His name was Aldon and was one of the wisest elves Lillian had ever known. She was surprised that she had not known him before all of this and was curious as to why he never held a seat with the Nobles in Fairwood. Aldon had said he had no desire to enter politics, but his way with words would have served well with the Nobles. His perspective was unlike any others and often quite aligned with what Lillian believed.
“It's the same thing that troubles everyone else,” Lillian replied as she moved over to make room for Aldon on the rock she was sitting on.
He sat as he looked out at the procession of elves taking a temporary rest on the plains before them. “I know of what you speak, child. We can only hope that the Oversoul will give our warrior general the necessary wisdom to lead us back into prosperity.”
She leaned in close and whispered, “Do you honestly believe that?”
“None in the least,” he whispered back, offering a faint grin.
Lillian giggled under her breath.
“There's that smile,” Aldon said as he brushed back a fleck of her dirty purple hair and gently placed it behind her ear.
“We need a leader like you,” Lillian said.
“Oh, I doubt it my dear. I do not have the patience for it.”
“But the people will listen to you.”
“They're listening to Kahmel. What makes me any better?”
“They listen to him because they have no other choice,” she said as she looked him in the eye. “You can give them that choice.”
Aldon stood and looked out at all of the elves again then back to Lillian. “I am tired and old, my Lady. These matters are better suited in the hands of the young. I have watched you during our turmoil. The path ahead is dire indeed. Maybe something will present itself in our future...in your future, perhaps.”
Lillian gazed up at Aldon who gave her a subtle wink as he walked away.
She had never thought of being a leader. It didn't seem to be in her nature. She was much too rambunctious for any such position of power, she knew. Still, the elves needed real guidance, not just the order to retreat when danger encroached upon them. Something had to be done and if it wasn't by her hand it should be by someone else. Hope was withering away amongst her people and she hated seeing it in their faces. She was even beginning to lose hope.
Reaching behind her, she pulled out her overly stuffed bag and ruffled through the contents. There was a spare change of clothes, knitting tools, dried plants for a variety of potions, even cooking pots. Then a faint glimmer of silver caught her eye as she latched onto the leather which the silver was sewn into and pulled it out.
It was the leather garb Denarius had made for Eric.
Although the craftsman had died during the battle in Deepnure, his works lived on. Unfolding the garb, she ran her fingers across the silver leaf crest sewn into the chest. As she traced the lines of the crest her mind began to dwell on her time spent with Eric. In a way she loved getting into trouble with him on their adventures. It was freeing. Although their time together was relatively short, she wished she could experience it once more. Even if that meant enduring the loss of Godric all over again.
She loved her godfather dearly, but there was something about Eric that was special. He had a way about him that lit up her heart. She hoped that their paths would cross again one day.
“Time to move on,” a warrior shouted at the elves.
Lillian wiped away a tear that had come unexpectedly. She shoved the garb back into her bag as she tried to put Eric in the back of her mind. She couldn't risk being distracted when others needed her attention.
The elves gathered their belongings while struggling to stand and continued to march onward. A small child clung to life as he attempted to get to his feet as his mother did her best to hoist him into her arms – even while she carried an immense weight on her back.
Lillian rushed to the mother's side and held out her arms. “I will carry him for you.”
“No, I couldn't ask you to do that,” the mother said.
“I insist.”
The mother paused for a moment to look at her son. “Thank you, my Lady.”
As Lillian took the boy into her arms she noticed how strained his eyes appeared. He was almost lifeless as he draped his arms over her shoulders. Lillian then noticed that dried skin had begun to peel from the child's lips.
“When's the last time he's had something to drink?”
The mother darted her eyes away from Lillian, no doubt ashamed of the care that her son had received over the past few days. “Two days, my Lady. I had given him the last drops of water we had.”
Lillian reached for her leather flask tied to her waist and held it to the boy's lips. “Here, drink. It's okay. You can have the rest.”
The boy's lethargic demeanor withered for a moment as he took the flask in both hands and gulped down the water in an instant. As the flask thinned with every drink the boy took, he did his best to squeeze out any remaining drops that he could. He held the flask aloft and let one final bead of water fall from the rim of the flask into his mouth.
As Lillian watched the boy strain for every bit of water that he could an anger began to boil inside of her. She did not blame the boy's mother – there was little she could have done about it. Kahmel was the one responsible for the suffering this child had to endure.
All she could do was pray that they would arrive at Salwin soon.
The boy returned the flask then wiped his still-dry mouth. “Thank you,” he said in a raspy voice.
“You are most welcome.”
That was all the water Lillian had left in her supply but it was not important. All that was important now was that no more lives be extinguished needlessly. She readjusted her hold on the child as the elves continued their march west. Lillian remained close to the boy's mother just in case.
Another day passed. The gulch was within sight just ahead as it carved a deep hole into the landscape. The crowd proceeded on the wide path downward as the rocky walls of the gulch rose above them on either side. A few of the elves rushed to a small stream slicing through the center of the valley within the gulch but most were too tired to move any faster than they already were.
While Lillian still held the weak child in her arms, she followed his mother to the stream that had attracted the attention of almost every elf that had entered the gulch. Gently placing the child next to his mother on the bank of the stream, Lillian watched as he bent over to drink the water without bothering to fill up his own empty flask.
His mother had not a word to say. Lillian could tell that the mother had resolved that her son had suffered enough on their journey and allowed him to continue drinking.
Lillian would have done the same as the boy but her attention turned to the high walls of rock that surrounded them. If Derex and his army were to attack here they would have a distinct advantage. The elves would be trapped as there only appeared to be one way out of the gulch – the way they came in. If the pathway was blocked off there would be no hope of escape. Surely a massacre would ensue.
Soon her eyes found the remaining structures of Salwin hugging the side of one of the walls. They had no doubt seen better days as they were made of hardened mud – the rain and falling rocks did them little favor. Holes and gashes were visible throughout many of the intricate buildings that had remained here throughout the centuries.
“Could I have everyone's attention, please,” Kahmel shouted.
No one paid him any mind as they continued to fill their mouths and flasks with any water the stream would provide.
“ATTENTION!” he yelled.
The elves ceased gathering water as the warrior general's voiced echoed off the walls of the gulch. The fear on their faces was evident as they all peered in Kahmel's direction.
“I know the journey has been difficult, but we must not rest yet,” he began as he pointed toward the old structures. “We need everyone to do what they can to reinforce what remains of Salwin. Gather all the wood you can find so we may have roofs over our heads tonight. There will be time to fill your flasks later.”
No word was spoken as the elves retreated from the banks to begin chopping down the sparse offering of trees that were peppered throughout the gulch. Lillian watched as they all did as they were told. Her face flushed crimson as the suffering was allowed to carry on.
The work continued for hours without anyone being allowed to rest. The heat gathered in the gulch as the hot day assaulted the elves relentlessly. Lillian helped where she could; hoisting wood to be used for roofing, giving water to those that fell to exhaustion, and offering words of comfort to those who had given what was left of their strength.
She spotted Kahmel (along with his snobby advisers) making his rounds on the work being done. She noticed that there was not a bead of sweat that touched his brow. Something needed to be said....
“Do you like what you see, general?” Lillian asked loudly. A few of the elves around her took notice but continued working anyway.
“I do, thank you,” Kahmel responded with little care.
“That makes me so happy,” Lillian said sarcastically. “It just fills me with joy that you parade about with little strain being placed upon your back while the people you were sworn to serve are made to suffer.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh there is no excuse for you, general. You have had us uprooted from our homes, marched across the territories, and nearly killed by an enemy that far outnumbers us. Look around us – if this place isn't an invitation for an effective attack by our enemy, I don't know what is.”
Work began to cease as more elves tuned in to what was being said.
“I am trying to do what's right by our people.”
“Then why are you still unwilling to seek out aid? Need I remind you that the gnomes fought by our side in Fairwood? Without them the battle would have surely been lost.”
“You do not know that for a fact.”
“Yes, general, I do. And the more you cling to the ideology of a forgotten age, the more we will suffer and perish.”
“I refuse to let that happen.”
Lillian shook her head in disbelief. “I don't know if you are naïve, Kahmel, or just dimwitted. But you have a very distinct inability to see what is happening around you.”
“How dare you insult me, child!”
“How dare you, you selfish pig! There are many here who do not hold you in a favorable position but are too afraid to speak. I will say it for them: you are the most incompetent leader the elves have ever been graced with in known times. And if we continue down this road, you will lead us to ruin. I can promise you that!”
Kahmel was left with nothing to say as Lillian stormed off. The elves that had ceased working nearby watched her as she left then looked toward Kahmel.
The shame was prevalent in the warrior general's eyes as he spun on his heels and retreated from the area with his advisers trailing behind him.
The night that followed brought with it a cool chill that soothed Lillian's aching muscles as she left the confines of the gulch to gaze at the clear night sky. Stars sparkled above in what appeared to be a desperate call to be seen. The blackened sky salted with the glimmer of celestial sparkles and the twin moons just over the eastern horizon put her mind at much needed ease after the day's events.
It was not her intent to make Kahmel out to be such a villain in front of the other elves but she had little choice in the matter. The words came from her mouth with little consideration to their meaning or consequence. Merely desiring to make a candid point, she felt she instead began to turn those who were already suspicious of the warrior general into stringent foes. All that she desired was that her words did not lead to more bloodshed. Enough has been spilt already.
“Good evening, my Lady,” a voice hidden in the dark spoke.
The soft light coming from the twin moons hanging in the sky lit up the regal elf's figure as he approached. Lillian knew who it was without needing to see his face. “You frightened me, Warwick.”
“I do apologize,” the warrior bowed.
“No apology needed. I'm not even supposed to be up here but it was stifling down there,” she said as she pulled a hastily constructed shawl around her shoulders. It was her first attempt at sewing, and while the final product looked utterly dreadful, it did its duty well in keeping her warm.
“I heard what happened with Kahmel,” Warwick said softly.
Lillian dropped her head toward the ground. “Hasn't everybody? I was being stupid.”
“I found what you said to be quite commendable.”
She set her gaze on the warrior elf who's face was only half visible in the moonlight. “You did?”
“Yes, my Lady. I do not speak the words myself because it isn't my place. You were merely speaking on behalf of your people. And it's been a long time since someone has done that with honesty.”
“If only Eric could see me now,” she said absentmindedly.
Warwick guffawed. “The city-dweller has been on your mind of late?”
“Yes, yes he has. I miss him is all. Don't you?”
“Perhaps not in the same sense that you do,” he winked.
“I wonder what he's doing right now,” she whispered as she looked back to the sky.
“Probably wondering what you're doing right now. And I'm willing to bet he would be proud.”
“What would he be proud of?”
“That you have inherited your godfather's penchant for leadership and that you are continuing to not be afraid to stand for what's right.”
“You're wrong. I am afraid.”
Warwick sighed. “We're all afraid, my Lady. But we must learn to bury it at times of need so that our cause may carry forward.”
“Your words are true, Warwick, but they are just that – words. I just hope to find the will to bury the fear when it truly takes hold.”
“I have no doubt that you will,” he smiled.
Lillian remained silent, instead choosing to gaze up at the stars. She found familiar constellations hidden within the masses of white lights. She even found the set of stars that guided her portal to Gondlair last summer. Her hands left her shawl as the temptation to make a doorway to the Assembly city beckoned to her.
With a slight movement, she buried them back into the shawl without Warwick noticing. Although her want...her desire to see Eric again was becoming unbearable with each passing day, her place was here. If she were to abandon the elves now, at this critical conjecture in time, she would never be able to forgive herself.
“Good night, Warwick.”
“Farewell, my Lady,” the warrior said softly.
Lillian found her way down the pathway back into the gulch with little trouble as her eyes had adjusted to the night. Her small cottage made of mudbrick waited for her just ahead. As she entered and laid her head to rest on the cloth mat set upon the floor, she found that the light shun down through the sparse branches that covered the hole in the roof.
Through the branches she saw, once more, the same set of stars that would lead her back to Gondlair.
Her eyelids were already heavy as it were when she decided to let them close.
Without warning, warhorns bellowed from somewhere around her. At first she thought she was dreaming when imagines of the Fallen marching into Fairwood flashed before her eyes. But as she came to, and saw that she was still lying on the hard ground, she realized that the echoes cascading off the walls of the gulch were all too real.
She rose to her feet as quickly as she could. In an instant she was outside her mudbrick cottage in the blinding daylight where she gazed up to the top of one of the walls where an elven warrior was shouting.
“It's a scouting party!” he yelled when his body suddenly went rigid. The warrior then slowly leaned forward until he fell from the cliff above and landed on top of Lillian's cottage with a sickening thud.
With her hands wavering in fear, she strained to look at the face of the warrior. It wasn't Warwick but the loss of another elf affected her nonetheless as she found what remained of the arrow that pierced the warrior's abdomen.
Aldon appeared at her side in a panic. “My Lady, we must get you to safety.”
She took a moment to comprehend the dire situation she was in. “No, we need to get everyone to safety.”
Soon enough, a gathering of Fallen and Blackmages appeared overhead and on the pathway leading into the gulch. With each passing engagement the elves found themselves in with Derex's forces, the more Blackmages seemed to appear. No doubt, Derex had the need to replenish his numbers but where were these dark practitioners coming from?
There was no time to dwell on it as Lillian noticed women and children screaming in terror as their enemy began to rain down fire and arrows upon Salwin.
“Spread the word that everyone needs to move further into the gulch. Go!” she commanded Aldon.
The elderly elf moved as fast as his feet could carry him until he disappeared into the crowd – shouting out Lillian's instructions as he went.
Lillian then spotted the young boy she had given her remaining supply of water to crying for his mother. She tried to ask him where she was but his fright was too great as he continued to weep inconsolably.
She swiftly gathered him into her arms as she shouted for others to follow her. Most of the elves heard her call and ran toward her but others were not so lucky as dreadful spells and wrathful arrows fell to the ground – killing all in their wake.
As she ran, she spotted Kahmel and his advisers just ahead as they cowered away from the battle instead of joining what warriors remained to fend off their foes.
With a flash of light and an intense heat, the ground where the warrior general and his advisers once stood turned to blackened ash. When the smoke from the spell finally cleared their bodies were nowhere to be seen.
Lillian shielded the child's eyes from the horrific sight as she continued running as fast as she could. The deafening screams of terror filled the gulch while the enemy were relentless in their onslaught.
Lillian peeked behind her to see more of Derex's forces making their way down into the gulch in pursuit while others remained above on the walls and continued their salvos of fire spells.
The day became ever more luminous as each spell lit up the ground with a blinding light that was difficult to dodge. With barely an eye open, Lillian spotted an indention in one of the walls just ahead that would shield the elves from the attacks above. With any luck there would be a cave they could retreat into just like in Deepnure.
With repeated shouts, the elves heard Lillian's commands as they followed her into the deep indentation in the rock.
The hardened ceiling of stone overhead provided the elves with a way to avoid the spells still being thrown from above. She gazed back out to find several warriors making their way toward them in haste as they were clearly outnumbered.
Warwick was among them.
Setting the still sobbing child down, she ordered that everyone scour the rock formation for any sign of entry.
There was none.
“What do we do now, my Lady?” Aldon asked who appeared from the crowd.
Lillian gazed out to find that their enemy was approaching swiftly with their weapons at the ready. She could try to port all of the elves away from here but that would take far too much time that they didn't have.
She instead began to unleash one spell after another at their enemy. Her efforts were soon followed by the warriors sending their volley of arrows and spells at the undead that stood mere yards away.
As the battle raged on, more elves fell but so to did the undead. The cascade of druidic spells had finally set the ground aflame to the point where their enemy was no longer visible through the fire.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Echoes emerged of a different sound that didn't seem to be concentrated at the elves. Lillian ceased her spell casting to listen. The warriors soon followed suit as everyone waited to see where the loud bangs had come from.
The wall of flame in front of the elves began to die down as they spotted smaller figures moving behind the billowing smoke and falling ash. Draped in iron and brass armor, they made for themselves a pathway through the remaining flames by snuffing out the fires.
The first dwarf had a majestic beard that was braided in an elegant knot as it reached down to his mid-section. He was followed by a younger dwarf who had yet to fully sprout a beard of his own, but had an admirable suit of armor like the one ahead of him. Both carried long muskets in their hands that had battleaxes hewn into their stocks.
The dwarves and elves stared at each other for a moment before the younger dwarf whispered to his elder.
“Commander, it's the elves.”
“I can see that, thank you very much,” the elder dwarf bellowed.
“What should we do?”
The elder dwarf paused for a moment as he saw the look on the faces of each elf hidden from a relentless enemy. His features softened a bit with each new face he took in.
“Who do you call your leader?” the elder dwarf asked.
There was a pervasive silence throughout the crowd as no one knew what to say. Then Lillian noticed something out of her periphery – more and more of her people began to point at her. Her spirit soared with both delight and fear as the elves selected her above all.
The elder dwarf stepped forward and politely bowed to Lillian as his younger cohort stayed behind.
“Th-thank you for your help,” Lillian said.
“It was my honor,” the elder dwarf replied.
“Do you bear the old rivalries?” she asked suspiciously.
“I do not. Nor does our king. He has heard of your plight and offers his hand in friendship.”
“He does?”
The elder dwarf nodded. “When evil pervades, it is the duty of all peoples to act as one against it. That is the charge he has given all of his warriors.”
“Might I speak with him?”
“You may.”
Lillian peered behind her to see the tired, dirty faces of her fellow elves staring back at her. “And may my people follow?”
“Of course,” the elder dwarf stated as he led the way.
Lillian followed first with Aldon trailing behind her. Warwick was the next person willing but everyone else remained.
Lillian offered her people a reassuring smile and waved at them to come along.
One by one, they left the still-smoldering gulch behind them as they were guided by a company of dwarves into their territory – something which had not been heard of in an age.
The story continues in
ERIC ELMOOR AND THE CHALICE OF CAMERON
Copyright Thomas A. Meyers 2013
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What do you make of the hospitality of the dwarves? Where is Derex finding his new recruits? Can Lillian lead her people better than those who have come before? So many questions!
Keep an eye out for book 2 arriving in 2014!
Facebook.com/EricElmoor
Ash rained down from the sky like a gruesome snow blanketing the blackened ground. Lillian did not waver as she peered out from the last remaining sanctuary in the elven territories. It was an old village that had been abandoned long ago before the various elven tribes had united and migrated to Fairwood.
It was known as Salwin and was situated in a deep gulch scraping the borders of the Darklands and the dwarf territories. Kahmel had thought that the secluded nature of Salwin would provide the elves with the perfect hiding spot from Derex and his forces.
He was wrong.
When the battle for Fairwood was over, and families had finished mourning their dead, Kahmel, the warrior general who was now the leader of the elves, ordered that everyone evacuate the forest to seek refuge from any re-attack that Derex and his horde might have planned.
They first moved along the coast so that they may be within range of the Shattered Channel to take advantage of the abundance of sea-life in case the game became scarce. As they continued north, they came along an ancient cave that legend had it was where the dwarves and elves first quarreled long ago and the centuries long rivalry between the races began. Deepnure it was called and it was immense enough to fit all of the elves within it.
There was a time where peace had begun to reemerge and the wounds of the battle of Fairwood began to fade little by little. It did not last. Derex and his forces had caught them unawares, and with the sea at their backs, they were cornered.
The fight was bloody as more elves lost their lives to the undead horde who were under Derex's command. Fortunately, most of the elves were able to escape the battle by way of a hidden cave within Deepnure that ushered them away from the bloodshed.
From there they moved south, then north, then west; all in a vain attempt to outrun Derex but it was pointless. Derex, having been apart of the Fairwood army once, was well versed in all of the locations where the elves may hide if they needed.
Lillian knew this and pleaded with Kahmel to seek out aid from anyone who would be willing – perhaps someone might give them sanctuary. The warrior general still clung to his selfish pride and would hear none of it – saying that the elves would endure. At one point Lillian even contemplated on leaving on her own accord to speak with anyone she could find to help but she found herself being more and more depended upon by her people.
Healing wounds and mending spirits for those who lost someone in the various battles began to consume her time. She knew her place was here with her people and she could not abandon them. But her discontent with Kahmel's leadership did not wane in the least.
As they marched across the plains of the elven territories the children and the elderly became tired on their feet. Hardly any sustenance had presented itself on the way toward the gulch and Kahmel refused to send out a hunting party for fear that Derex may strike while they were still in the open. Many fell to the ground from exhaustion, others from lack of water, but all of them grew in their wroth toward the warrior general.
The air was palpable with the ire that fomented amongst them but hardly anyone had said a word in defiance.
“I sense something troubles you,” said a weathered voice over Lillian's shoulder.
Lillian looked to find a pleasant, elderly face bearing a smile that soothed her heart like few others could in the past few months. His name was Aldon and was one of the wisest elves Lillian had ever known. She was surprised that she had not known him before all of this and was curious as to why he never held a seat with the Nobles in Fairwood. Aldon had said he had no desire to enter politics, but his way with words would have served well with the Nobles. His perspective was unlike any others and often quite aligned with what Lillian believed.
“It's the same thing that troubles everyone else,” Lillian replied as she moved over to make room for Aldon on the rock she was sitting on.
He sat as he looked out at the procession of elves taking a temporary rest on the plains before them. “I know of what you speak, child. We can only hope that the Oversoul will give our warrior general the necessary wisdom to lead us back into prosperity.”
She leaned in close and whispered, “Do you honestly believe that?”
“None in the least,” he whispered back, offering a faint grin.
Lillian giggled under her breath.
“There's that smile,” Aldon said as he brushed back a fleck of her dirty purple hair and gently placed it behind her ear.
“We need a leader like you,” Lillian said.
“Oh, I doubt it my dear. I do not have the patience for it.”
“But the people will listen to you.”
“They're listening to Kahmel. What makes me any better?”
“They listen to him because they have no other choice,” she said as she looked him in the eye. “You can give them that choice.”
Aldon stood and looked out at all of the elves again then back to Lillian. “I am tired and old, my Lady. These matters are better suited in the hands of the young. I have watched you during our turmoil. The path ahead is dire indeed. Maybe something will present itself in our future...in your future, perhaps.”
Lillian gazed up at Aldon who gave her a subtle wink as he walked away.
She had never thought of being a leader. It didn't seem to be in her nature. She was much too rambunctious for any such position of power, she knew. Still, the elves needed real guidance, not just the order to retreat when danger encroached upon them. Something had to be done and if it wasn't by her hand it should be by someone else. Hope was withering away amongst her people and she hated seeing it in their faces. She was even beginning to lose hope.
Reaching behind her, she pulled out her overly stuffed bag and ruffled through the contents. There was a spare change of clothes, knitting tools, dried plants for a variety of potions, even cooking pots. Then a faint glimmer of silver caught her eye as she latched onto the leather which the silver was sewn into and pulled it out.
It was the leather garb Denarius had made for Eric.
Although the craftsman had died during the battle in Deepnure, his works lived on. Unfolding the garb, she ran her fingers across the silver leaf crest sewn into the chest. As she traced the lines of the crest her mind began to dwell on her time spent with Eric. In a way she loved getting into trouble with him on their adventures. It was freeing. Although their time together was relatively short, she wished she could experience it once more. Even if that meant enduring the loss of Godric all over again.
She loved her godfather dearly, but there was something about Eric that was special. He had a way about him that lit up her heart. She hoped that their paths would cross again one day.
“Time to move on,” a warrior shouted at the elves.
Lillian wiped away a tear that had come unexpectedly. She shoved the garb back into her bag as she tried to put Eric in the back of her mind. She couldn't risk being distracted when others needed her attention.
The elves gathered their belongings while struggling to stand and continued to march onward. A small child clung to life as he attempted to get to his feet as his mother did her best to hoist him into her arms – even while she carried an immense weight on her back.
Lillian rushed to the mother's side and held out her arms. “I will carry him for you.”
“No, I couldn't ask you to do that,” the mother said.
“I insist.”
The mother paused for a moment to look at her son. “Thank you, my Lady.”
As Lillian took the boy into her arms she noticed how strained his eyes appeared. He was almost lifeless as he draped his arms over her shoulders. Lillian then noticed that dried skin had begun to peel from the child's lips.
“When's the last time he's had something to drink?”
The mother darted her eyes away from Lillian, no doubt ashamed of the care that her son had received over the past few days. “Two days, my Lady. I had given him the last drops of water we had.”
Lillian reached for her leather flask tied to her waist and held it to the boy's lips. “Here, drink. It's okay. You can have the rest.”
The boy's lethargic demeanor withered for a moment as he took the flask in both hands and gulped down the water in an instant. As the flask thinned with every drink the boy took, he did his best to squeeze out any remaining drops that he could. He held the flask aloft and let one final bead of water fall from the rim of the flask into his mouth.
As Lillian watched the boy strain for every bit of water that he could an anger began to boil inside of her. She did not blame the boy's mother – there was little she could have done about it. Kahmel was the one responsible for the suffering this child had to endure.
All she could do was pray that they would arrive at Salwin soon.
The boy returned the flask then wiped his still-dry mouth. “Thank you,” he said in a raspy voice.
“You are most welcome.”
That was all the water Lillian had left in her supply but it was not important. All that was important now was that no more lives be extinguished needlessly. She readjusted her hold on the child as the elves continued their march west. Lillian remained close to the boy's mother just in case.
Another day passed. The gulch was within sight just ahead as it carved a deep hole into the landscape. The crowd proceeded on the wide path downward as the rocky walls of the gulch rose above them on either side. A few of the elves rushed to a small stream slicing through the center of the valley within the gulch but most were too tired to move any faster than they already were.
While Lillian still held the weak child in her arms, she followed his mother to the stream that had attracted the attention of almost every elf that had entered the gulch. Gently placing the child next to his mother on the bank of the stream, Lillian watched as he bent over to drink the water without bothering to fill up his own empty flask.
His mother had not a word to say. Lillian could tell that the mother had resolved that her son had suffered enough on their journey and allowed him to continue drinking.
Lillian would have done the same as the boy but her attention turned to the high walls of rock that surrounded them. If Derex and his army were to attack here they would have a distinct advantage. The elves would be trapped as there only appeared to be one way out of the gulch – the way they came in. If the pathway was blocked off there would be no hope of escape. Surely a massacre would ensue.
Soon her eyes found the remaining structures of Salwin hugging the side of one of the walls. They had no doubt seen better days as they were made of hardened mud – the rain and falling rocks did them little favor. Holes and gashes were visible throughout many of the intricate buildings that had remained here throughout the centuries.
“Could I have everyone's attention, please,” Kahmel shouted.
No one paid him any mind as they continued to fill their mouths and flasks with any water the stream would provide.
“ATTENTION!” he yelled.
The elves ceased gathering water as the warrior general's voiced echoed off the walls of the gulch. The fear on their faces was evident as they all peered in Kahmel's direction.
“I know the journey has been difficult, but we must not rest yet,” he began as he pointed toward the old structures. “We need everyone to do what they can to reinforce what remains of Salwin. Gather all the wood you can find so we may have roofs over our heads tonight. There will be time to fill your flasks later.”
No word was spoken as the elves retreated from the banks to begin chopping down the sparse offering of trees that were peppered throughout the gulch. Lillian watched as they all did as they were told. Her face flushed crimson as the suffering was allowed to carry on.
The work continued for hours without anyone being allowed to rest. The heat gathered in the gulch as the hot day assaulted the elves relentlessly. Lillian helped where she could; hoisting wood to be used for roofing, giving water to those that fell to exhaustion, and offering words of comfort to those who had given what was left of their strength.
She spotted Kahmel (along with his snobby advisers) making his rounds on the work being done. She noticed that there was not a bead of sweat that touched his brow. Something needed to be said....
“Do you like what you see, general?” Lillian asked loudly. A few of the elves around her took notice but continued working anyway.
“I do, thank you,” Kahmel responded with little care.
“That makes me so happy,” Lillian said sarcastically. “It just fills me with joy that you parade about with little strain being placed upon your back while the people you were sworn to serve are made to suffer.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh there is no excuse for you, general. You have had us uprooted from our homes, marched across the territories, and nearly killed by an enemy that far outnumbers us. Look around us – if this place isn't an invitation for an effective attack by our enemy, I don't know what is.”
Work began to cease as more elves tuned in to what was being said.
“I am trying to do what's right by our people.”
“Then why are you still unwilling to seek out aid? Need I remind you that the gnomes fought by our side in Fairwood? Without them the battle would have surely been lost.”
“You do not know that for a fact.”
“Yes, general, I do. And the more you cling to the ideology of a forgotten age, the more we will suffer and perish.”
“I refuse to let that happen.”
Lillian shook her head in disbelief. “I don't know if you are naïve, Kahmel, or just dimwitted. But you have a very distinct inability to see what is happening around you.”
“How dare you insult me, child!”
“How dare you, you selfish pig! There are many here who do not hold you in a favorable position but are too afraid to speak. I will say it for them: you are the most incompetent leader the elves have ever been graced with in known times. And if we continue down this road, you will lead us to ruin. I can promise you that!”
Kahmel was left with nothing to say as Lillian stormed off. The elves that had ceased working nearby watched her as she left then looked toward Kahmel.
The shame was prevalent in the warrior general's eyes as he spun on his heels and retreated from the area with his advisers trailing behind him.
The night that followed brought with it a cool chill that soothed Lillian's aching muscles as she left the confines of the gulch to gaze at the clear night sky. Stars sparkled above in what appeared to be a desperate call to be seen. The blackened sky salted with the glimmer of celestial sparkles and the twin moons just over the eastern horizon put her mind at much needed ease after the day's events.
It was not her intent to make Kahmel out to be such a villain in front of the other elves but she had little choice in the matter. The words came from her mouth with little consideration to their meaning or consequence. Merely desiring to make a candid point, she felt she instead began to turn those who were already suspicious of the warrior general into stringent foes. All that she desired was that her words did not lead to more bloodshed. Enough has been spilt already.
“Good evening, my Lady,” a voice hidden in the dark spoke.
The soft light coming from the twin moons hanging in the sky lit up the regal elf's figure as he approached. Lillian knew who it was without needing to see his face. “You frightened me, Warwick.”
“I do apologize,” the warrior bowed.
“No apology needed. I'm not even supposed to be up here but it was stifling down there,” she said as she pulled a hastily constructed shawl around her shoulders. It was her first attempt at sewing, and while the final product looked utterly dreadful, it did its duty well in keeping her warm.
“I heard what happened with Kahmel,” Warwick said softly.
Lillian dropped her head toward the ground. “Hasn't everybody? I was being stupid.”
“I found what you said to be quite commendable.”
She set her gaze on the warrior elf who's face was only half visible in the moonlight. “You did?”
“Yes, my Lady. I do not speak the words myself because it isn't my place. You were merely speaking on behalf of your people. And it's been a long time since someone has done that with honesty.”
“If only Eric could see me now,” she said absentmindedly.
Warwick guffawed. “The city-dweller has been on your mind of late?”
“Yes, yes he has. I miss him is all. Don't you?”
“Perhaps not in the same sense that you do,” he winked.
“I wonder what he's doing right now,” she whispered as she looked back to the sky.
“Probably wondering what you're doing right now. And I'm willing to bet he would be proud.”
“What would he be proud of?”
“That you have inherited your godfather's penchant for leadership and that you are continuing to not be afraid to stand for what's right.”
“You're wrong. I am afraid.”
Warwick sighed. “We're all afraid, my Lady. But we must learn to bury it at times of need so that our cause may carry forward.”
“Your words are true, Warwick, but they are just that – words. I just hope to find the will to bury the fear when it truly takes hold.”
“I have no doubt that you will,” he smiled.
Lillian remained silent, instead choosing to gaze up at the stars. She found familiar constellations hidden within the masses of white lights. She even found the set of stars that guided her portal to Gondlair last summer. Her hands left her shawl as the temptation to make a doorway to the Assembly city beckoned to her.
With a slight movement, she buried them back into the shawl without Warwick noticing. Although her want...her desire to see Eric again was becoming unbearable with each passing day, her place was here. If she were to abandon the elves now, at this critical conjecture in time, she would never be able to forgive herself.
“Good night, Warwick.”
“Farewell, my Lady,” the warrior said softly.
Lillian found her way down the pathway back into the gulch with little trouble as her eyes had adjusted to the night. Her small cottage made of mudbrick waited for her just ahead. As she entered and laid her head to rest on the cloth mat set upon the floor, she found that the light shun down through the sparse branches that covered the hole in the roof.
Through the branches she saw, once more, the same set of stars that would lead her back to Gondlair.
Her eyelids were already heavy as it were when she decided to let them close.
Without warning, warhorns bellowed from somewhere around her. At first she thought she was dreaming when imagines of the Fallen marching into Fairwood flashed before her eyes. But as she came to, and saw that she was still lying on the hard ground, she realized that the echoes cascading off the walls of the gulch were all too real.
She rose to her feet as quickly as she could. In an instant she was outside her mudbrick cottage in the blinding daylight where she gazed up to the top of one of the walls where an elven warrior was shouting.
“It's a scouting party!” he yelled when his body suddenly went rigid. The warrior then slowly leaned forward until he fell from the cliff above and landed on top of Lillian's cottage with a sickening thud.
With her hands wavering in fear, she strained to look at the face of the warrior. It wasn't Warwick but the loss of another elf affected her nonetheless as she found what remained of the arrow that pierced the warrior's abdomen.
Aldon appeared at her side in a panic. “My Lady, we must get you to safety.”
She took a moment to comprehend the dire situation she was in. “No, we need to get everyone to safety.”
Soon enough, a gathering of Fallen and Blackmages appeared overhead and on the pathway leading into the gulch. With each passing engagement the elves found themselves in with Derex's forces, the more Blackmages seemed to appear. No doubt, Derex had the need to replenish his numbers but where were these dark practitioners coming from?
There was no time to dwell on it as Lillian noticed women and children screaming in terror as their enemy began to rain down fire and arrows upon Salwin.
“Spread the word that everyone needs to move further into the gulch. Go!” she commanded Aldon.
The elderly elf moved as fast as his feet could carry him until he disappeared into the crowd – shouting out Lillian's instructions as he went.
Lillian then spotted the young boy she had given her remaining supply of water to crying for his mother. She tried to ask him where she was but his fright was too great as he continued to weep inconsolably.
She swiftly gathered him into her arms as she shouted for others to follow her. Most of the elves heard her call and ran toward her but others were not so lucky as dreadful spells and wrathful arrows fell to the ground – killing all in their wake.
As she ran, she spotted Kahmel and his advisers just ahead as they cowered away from the battle instead of joining what warriors remained to fend off their foes.
With a flash of light and an intense heat, the ground where the warrior general and his advisers once stood turned to blackened ash. When the smoke from the spell finally cleared their bodies were nowhere to be seen.
Lillian shielded the child's eyes from the horrific sight as she continued running as fast as she could. The deafening screams of terror filled the gulch while the enemy were relentless in their onslaught.
Lillian peeked behind her to see more of Derex's forces making their way down into the gulch in pursuit while others remained above on the walls and continued their salvos of fire spells.
The day became ever more luminous as each spell lit up the ground with a blinding light that was difficult to dodge. With barely an eye open, Lillian spotted an indention in one of the walls just ahead that would shield the elves from the attacks above. With any luck there would be a cave they could retreat into just like in Deepnure.
With repeated shouts, the elves heard Lillian's commands as they followed her into the deep indentation in the rock.
The hardened ceiling of stone overhead provided the elves with a way to avoid the spells still being thrown from above. She gazed back out to find several warriors making their way toward them in haste as they were clearly outnumbered.
Warwick was among them.
Setting the still sobbing child down, she ordered that everyone scour the rock formation for any sign of entry.
There was none.
“What do we do now, my Lady?” Aldon asked who appeared from the crowd.
Lillian gazed out to find that their enemy was approaching swiftly with their weapons at the ready. She could try to port all of the elves away from here but that would take far too much time that they didn't have.
She instead began to unleash one spell after another at their enemy. Her efforts were soon followed by the warriors sending their volley of arrows and spells at the undead that stood mere yards away.
As the battle raged on, more elves fell but so to did the undead. The cascade of druidic spells had finally set the ground aflame to the point where their enemy was no longer visible through the fire.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Echoes emerged of a different sound that didn't seem to be concentrated at the elves. Lillian ceased her spell casting to listen. The warriors soon followed suit as everyone waited to see where the loud bangs had come from.
The wall of flame in front of the elves began to die down as they spotted smaller figures moving behind the billowing smoke and falling ash. Draped in iron and brass armor, they made for themselves a pathway through the remaining flames by snuffing out the fires.
The first dwarf had a majestic beard that was braided in an elegant knot as it reached down to his mid-section. He was followed by a younger dwarf who had yet to fully sprout a beard of his own, but had an admirable suit of armor like the one ahead of him. Both carried long muskets in their hands that had battleaxes hewn into their stocks.
The dwarves and elves stared at each other for a moment before the younger dwarf whispered to his elder.
“Commander, it's the elves.”
“I can see that, thank you very much,” the elder dwarf bellowed.
“What should we do?”
The elder dwarf paused for a moment as he saw the look on the faces of each elf hidden from a relentless enemy. His features softened a bit with each new face he took in.
“Who do you call your leader?” the elder dwarf asked.
There was a pervasive silence throughout the crowd as no one knew what to say. Then Lillian noticed something out of her periphery – more and more of her people began to point at her. Her spirit soared with both delight and fear as the elves selected her above all.
The elder dwarf stepped forward and politely bowed to Lillian as his younger cohort stayed behind.
“Th-thank you for your help,” Lillian said.
“It was my honor,” the elder dwarf replied.
“Do you bear the old rivalries?” she asked suspiciously.
“I do not. Nor does our king. He has heard of your plight and offers his hand in friendship.”
“He does?”
The elder dwarf nodded. “When evil pervades, it is the duty of all peoples to act as one against it. That is the charge he has given all of his warriors.”
“Might I speak with him?”
“You may.”
Lillian peered behind her to see the tired, dirty faces of her fellow elves staring back at her. “And may my people follow?”
“Of course,” the elder dwarf stated as he led the way.
Lillian followed first with Aldon trailing behind her. Warwick was the next person willing but everyone else remained.
Lillian offered her people a reassuring smile and waved at them to come along.
One by one, they left the still-smoldering gulch behind them as they were guided by a company of dwarves into their territory – something which had not been heard of in an age.
The story continues in
ERIC ELMOOR AND THE CHALICE OF CAMERON
Copyright Thomas A. Meyers 2013
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What do you make of the hospitality of the dwarves? Where is Derex finding his new recruits? Can Lillian lead her people better than those who have come before? So many questions!
Keep an eye out for book 2 arriving in 2014!
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