Izaryle's Key Read online

  “When the hydralfar fell, after Demetrix shot him, he dropped it. This isn’t the first time I’ve encountered this book. It led my brothers and I into a dark world where this Izaryle is believed to be imprisoned.” Ravion addressed Alonia, handing the book to Kashien. It was clear the dalari prince was uneasy about being in the presence of such an artifact, which made handing it to him that much sweeter. “Alonia, is that your name?”

  She nodded.

  Approaching her, Ravion took position where she could easily see him. “If I were to find the spell the dreualfar plan to use, do you think you could recognize it?”

  “Aye. But be warned, I saw what he had ta’ do ta’ expose its secrets. I don’t know if you’re willin’ ta’ pay such a price.”

  “This book and I have a long-standing history. I don’t fear the price. Do you remember the questions he asked?”

  Alonia struggled silently, as if she was recalling the exact details of a memory long forgotten. “There were many he asked, but it wasn’t until he asked about bypassin’ the portals did it show him the spell.”

  “The portals? Mirrors, maybe?”

  “He said portals. But the passage he read aloud ta’ the dreualfar commander said reflections. I see no reason why they couldn’t be the same. He found the book beside a mirror, after all.”

  Ravion turned to face Kashien and the book. “If you’ll permit me, I’ll find the spell they hope to cast.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready for that? After what you’ve been through I can only imagine the temptation such magic would leave behind.”

  “I’ll be fine. Using this book isn’t like casting a spell. That takes focus and some amount of skill. The book is the opposite. It uses blood magic to reveal its secrets.” Ravion waited patiently for Kashien to return the book.

  “Blood magic can be extremely powerful. If you start to slip, we’ll shut you down by any means necessary.” Kashien warned, releasing the book.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve done this hundreds of times.” Carrying the book to the small table beside the bed, he flipped to the middle pages and drew his dagger. Pressing the sharped edge to his flesh, he slowly pulled, feeling the cold steel bite into the meat of his thumb. It pooled around the blade near instantly.

  Removing the blade, he dripped the bright red liquid into the pages, watching it disappear as he had so many times before. “Show me how the dreualfar hope to bypass the Irayth Mirrors!”

  The book remained blank for a long moment. Faintly, thin red marks began to appear, written in his familiar native tongue. “Kashien, I’ll not udder these words aloud, but you need to read this.”

  Kashien rushed toward the book, hoping whatever it showed would remain long enough for him to witness. Peering into the red markings, he quickly, silently memorized the passage. “We can use this. If we reverse these words.” He pointed to a collection on the third line. “We could cause an opposite effect. Rather than blocking out the sun, we could banish the dreualfar from it permanently.”

  “You’re telling me this is it?” Gareth interrupted.

  “This is what?” Kashien asked, misunderstanding what his devonie guest was talking about.

  “This is when the dreualfar are cursed to the underdark? By us?”

  Ravion chuckled to himself, seeing the poetic nature to Gareth’s realization. “I suppose it is.”

  Gareth waited a long moment, contemplating the possibilities. “Well, alright. Let’s do it.”

  “There’s one thing we’ll need to perform the ritual that I can’t obtain.” Kashien announced, studying the words.

  “What’s that?”

  “I need you to perform the spell.” Kashien stared intently at Ravion, forcing the severity of the request into his gaze.

  “Why me? Why can’t one of your other casters do it?”

  “It says here the spell must be cast by one who has tasted the dark. Unless we can force the dreualfar to cast it for us, you’re our only hope.”

  Ravion took a deep breath. He wasn’t ready to cast a spell yet. What if he lost control? What if it claimed him again and he slaughtered them all? But still, if it was needed, he had to do everything within his power to succeed. “Let me think about it. I’ll let you know by morning.” Refusing to wait another moment, Ravion marched from the room, disappearing past the door.

  Kashien glanced at Demetrix. He didn’t have to speak to make his point heard.

  Demetrix nodded. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” Pushing himself from the wall he’d been leaning against, he rushed out the door after Ravion.

  Turning to his captains, Kashien made sure he had their attention. “We’ve been fortunate this night. It’s not often we find ourselves with an advantage in this war. But here we are, the enemy’s plan within our knowledge, and a counter attack in the works. We come down to the logistics. Gareth, will you and your brothers accompany Captain Trendal and Captain Roark? For the dreualfar to cast this spell successfully, they’ll have to perform the ritual at a site where a god has bled. While very few of those are believed to exist, and most are speculated as mere rumor, there is one place I can think that the dreualfar may try to use.”

  “Durnal Hill?” Trendal asked, joining the conversation for the first time. He’d been lost in the memory of Kaileen, but if this meant they were finally going to end the war, his attention was needed.

  “That’s correct, Captain. I need you to lead the assault on Durnal Hill. As we all know, the ruins of an ancient temple were buried there several centuries ago. It’s believed this was the final temple to Izaryle, but unlike the others that were destroyed during the Great War, this one is believed to be the place where Izaryle fell and was stripped of his power. If the dreualfar hope to cast this spell, that’s where they’re going to do it.”

  “As you command, General.”

  “I’ll lead the remainder of our forces to Avlonwell. The majority of the dreualfar force is believed to be held up in the alfaren city. Missives will be sent to Captain Theo and Captain Lawson, as well as the hydralfar army. Last I knew, they were hold up near Dyre Rise. With any luck, they’ll mobilize on our position and we’ll have ‘em flanked from the start. One way or another, we end the war with this final battle. We’ll win, or we’ll die trying. Let’s give ‘em hell and make ‘em dread the day they chose to take up arms against us!”

  The captains shouted their cheers, ready to march into battle that very minute.

  Chapter XVII

  A Dark Pact

  A full moon lingered low in the sky, seemingly larger than usual. Not a sound could be heard from the camp, tranquil with the few torches and dying embers revealed in the low-lit night, with the exception of the rolling tide, echoing along the shore.

  Ravion stood at its edge, staring out into the blackened waters. The waves climbed the sand, stopping a few inches from the toe of his boots. There was little more than a few feet between the first row of tents and the cold, salty water. Listening to the dull roar of water, he heard soft footsteps in the sand behind him. Refusing to abandon his focus, he waited for new comer to speak.

  “I’ve never been much of a caster. The few things I remember from Lythus were little more than parlor tricks. So, I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through. Or what you’ve been through.” Demetrix’s voice was soft and comforting, aimed to inspire rather than coerce.

  Staring at the foamy tips of the rolling waves, washing toward him, Ravion let his brother’s words sink in. “Do you ever wish you’d chosen a different place to settle?”

  “Honestly?” Demetrix asked, not expecting an answer. “No. When I found Dalmoura, I had no idea what was in store for me in the years to come. Granted, those years feel like someone else’s memory, rather than my own. But they linger in my head, like flashes of a dream I had long ago. But, no. I don’t remember why I chose to go to Dalmoura. I just sort of stumbled upon it. And there I found my brothers. You guys made me feel like I belonged, which was
something I’d never really felt those two hundred years I spent in the Forests of Amaylar. It wasn’t the land that made Dalmoura my home. It was the people. And if we’re being completely honest, Irayth is my home now. When this is all over, I plan to go back. I want to live what’s left of my life with Elalon.”

  Ravion turned from the waters, seeing his brother for what might have been the first time. “I understand.”

  “That’s it? No guilt trips, or ‘we need you heres’, or ‘we have to rebuild our people’?” Demetrix was surprised by his response. He figured such a decision would have at least warranted some repercussions.

  Shaking his head, Ravion smiled for what seemed to be the first time in a long time. “No. You’ve made a decision. I respect that. Besides, Elalon is a wonderful woman whom missed you terribly. I had the pleasure of getting to know her during my stent as nightking. She’s a capable and strong woman. Far superior to your ass.” Playfully, he punched his brother in the shoulder.

  “I don’t dispute that whatsoever. I just hope I haven’t changed too much before I’m able to make it back to her.”

  “Believe me when I say she’s thought of no one but you. And changed or not, when you find your way back, she’ll be happy to see you.”

  A heavy smile occupied Demetrix’s face. He could hardly contain it. “You know, if you weren’t so damn smelly, I’d hug you right now.”

  “I’m surprise you can smell anything over your own funk. How long’s it been since you had a bath?”

  “Same as you. Come on. Let’s test the waters. But you’d best believe, if we see a shark, you’d better learn to walk on water and quick, because my ass is going to be gone.”

  Demetrix stripped his armor and made for the ocean. They were due for a massive fight in the near future. Enjoying the finer things in life was not to be forsaken.

  The morning sun beamed through the skylight, illuminating the unusually large room. It was decorated simply, wooden furniture, a single bed protruding toward the center. What could have passed as fresh picked flowers, where it not for the obvious illusionary water droplets clinging to the vibrant pedals, rested in a vase on the nightstand.

  Alonia struggled against the solid foot board, bracing herself for another step. Placing all her weight on her legs was tiresome and painful. But she had to get her body back into shape. The dalari were leaving soon and she couldn’t rightly go into battle with them. Not like this anyway. Gritting her teeth, she forced her legs to comply and stepped forward once again.

  Hearing someone enter the room, she glanced at the seemingly wooden doorway, finding Gareth standing there. Distracted for the briefest moment, her legs buckled and she crashed to the floor.

  Gareth rushed over to help her up. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just give me a minute ta’ get myself up.”

  Releasing her arms, he took a step back, allowing her to try on her own. While he hadn’t known her long, it was long enough to know she was just as stubborn as him. And if he pushed, she was liable to lash out, not that he feared such a thing. In fact, he quite enjoyed it from time to time. But now was not the time for such games.

  Straining, Alonia pulled herself up, balancing on her feet. Keeping hold of the footboard, she made her way around and took a seat on the soft bed. “Me damn legs aren’t workin’ the way they used ta’.”

  “Give it time. You’ll be back to fighting shape in no time.”

  “I could still kick ‘yer arse, even in me current state.”

  Gareth chuckled at her confidence. Though there was no way she could handle him if he was truly enraged.

  “Still thinkin’ too loud. Ya’ need to hide ‘yer thoughts better. Anyone could hear what’s in ‘yer head. If they do that, ya’ got nothin’ left to hide and your surprise is blown. And, yeah, I could take ya’. Did it once, didn’t I?”

  “Okay, you took me down once, but I was distracted. And you got the jump on me. That time doesn’t count.” Gareth approached the bed and took a seat beside her.

  “Of course it does. In battle, it doesn’t matter if ‘yer enemy knows ‘yer comin’ or not. When you have the chance to strike, ya’ strike.”

  Alonia let the powers within her manifest. Forming a modified shell, she slammed in into Gareth’s body, knocking him to his back.

  He tried to move, but the unseen force kept him motionless. He could still move his head and legs, but the rest of him was defenseless. Letting his mind explore, he found Alonia, straddling him. Her fiery red hair hung about her face and her glowing green eyes burned into him, fueling his desire. He wasn’t sure if it was in his head or not, perhaps both.

  “There ya’ go. Ya’ve locked onto me. Now, look inside. Feel the impulses. Let the surface memories flow. Once ya’ve got ‘em sorted, ya’ can search as deep as ya’ like.”

  Gareth stared into her. He was seeing double, though they weren’t the same. He could see her physical form, resting atop of him, and her inner self. It was then he realized she was speaking through his mind again. Her lips hadn’t moved at all.

  Thinking his words, letting them form in her mind, he felt them travel. You’ve got me here, nearly defeated. What do you plan to do with me now?

  Alonia pressed her face close to his and kissed him passionately. Breaking away, she whispered into his ear. “I need ta’ travel home before the dalari leave for this war. Will ye’ come with me?”

  Gareth was torn. He desperately wanted what she was offering. But he couldn’t rightly abandon his brothers. Not to mention the best chance he’d ever have at making sure the dreualfar remembered him throughout eternity. If he abandoned his crusade, all of it would have been for naught.

  Laying fully on top of him, she spoke softly. “Ya’ve made ‘yer decision. Just know, if ya’ change ‘yer mind, ya’ have but ta’ find me.”

  “I can’t let this fear control my life. What do you need me to do?” Ravion asked, standing in the doorway.

  Kashien stood over the table in the war room. The walls glowed a soft blue, illuminating every last detail.

  Ravion felt like this was the first time he’d truly seen the room in all its glory. The magical threads crawled on the walls, floor, and ceiling, in constant flux. Every grain of the illusionary wood was perfectly placed, forming a seemingly natural pattern. No, not illusionary. It wasn’t until this very moment that he truly understood the magics his people were using. It wasn’t all illusion spells and cantrips. They were standing inside a pocket dimension, tied to the outside world by way of the tent. How had he not noticed that before?

  Weapons hung from fixtures, mounted to the support beams, displayed for all to see. The heavy oaken table that made the centerpiece was relatively clear of its usual maps, which were rolled and tucked neatly upon the shelf. At the edge where Kashien stood, the glimmering black book rested, closed and bound by its leather strap. A stack of vellum was placed beside it, and a quartz vial of what appeared to be ink sat next to an elegant looking quill made from a white feather.

  Kashien worked the mortar in his hand, grinding the components within to a fine dust. “I appreciate your courage. If you’d be so kind as to find the spell in the book once again, we’re just about ready to begin.”

  Ravion approached the table and unbuckled the book. Flipping to one of the many blank pages, he removed the bandage where he’d cut himself the night before. Carefully, he spread the wound, breaking the clot that had set up overnight. Almost immediately red beads rushed to the surface. He squeezed, forcing it to pool slightly.

  Seeing enough for a few drops, he held it over the flaky page and let the book do the rest. “Show me the how to curse the dreualfar into shadow!”

  As before, the blood soaked into the page and returned a moment later revealing a slightly different spell than the one they’d seen before. This time, the wording was different, but the concept was the same.

  Kashien quickly read over the text, finding the changes. “Excellent! I’m glad you changed it. I woul
d have missed the top part. There’s no telling what would have happened if it didn’t get cast exactly right.” Checking the powder in his pedestal, he poured it into the vial of dark ink. Swishing is around, the ink began to glow a near red. The glow faded away and the ink returned to its pitch-black tone. “Are you ready?”

  Ravion read through the words of the spell. It was simple enough, though that didn’t stop the churning he felt in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if it was just nerves, or if he was genuinely sick. Either way it was one of the most uncomfortable feelings he’d ever experienced, short of allowing a surge of collected energies explode from his body. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the book and began to focus.

  Kashien waved his hand over the quill, watching it float from its stand. Dipping itself in the enchanted ink, the vial emptied, as if the quill absorbed it.

  “Thgil eht morf enog eb. Enog eb, taht rof dna. Laitnetop ruoy derednauqs evah uoy, thgin fo dlihc. Ytinrete lla rof ssenkrad eht ni niamer uoy taht ti ot ees I thgir larom ym yb. Tnemegduj tsac ot ecalp ym ton si ti rof. Uoy evigrof I, era uoy sa detpurroc. Thgil eht ni sworg taht lla morf uoy hsinab I. Uoy hsinab I, thgin fo dlihc.”

  Ravion watched the quill scribble the spell onto the vellum, the blackened ink turned red the moment it found its place on the page. He could see the weaves of magic coursing through the lettering, waiting to be read by someone, anyone that cared to recite the words. Feeling the magics inside himself twist, he dropped the book, watching the heavy binding clap shut. Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath, allowing himself to remain in control. The magic did not control him, but rather he controlled it.

  Kashien studied the heaving dalari scout. He appeared to be momentarily trapped within himself, but he was pulling out of it. Seeing the tall warrior return to his former height, he was confident he’d found his control once again. It was going to take some time before he’d truly be comfortable with who he’d become, but he’d get there. His resilience was testament to that. “Go get a drink. Calm yourself. Tomorrow morning, we march toward victory.” He suggested to the scout.