A Week Before
At Tuhinga O Mua, the Orimons held council. The council room lay in the deepest cavern with one narrow entrance. The room had been illuminated by lighting crystals, allowing the members to gather around a long wooden table.
“All seems well,” Kirshawe from House Crey stated to all who were present. “Why would we endanger ourselves continuing such a venture? We have prospered. Give us more time to prepare.”
“It is the stillness before the tempest you feel, Kirshawe. Asmeodai is preparing a strike to wipe out any resistance,” Nabbe of House Merclogh retorted. “Before he completes his tunnel to Siochanta Realm.”
Across the long table, Ser Alric, the Delivar, watched the silver bearded man take a puff of his pipe and blew smoke rings above his head. Beneath his bushy eyebrows, his aged face was lined with wisdom that the years he had lived had availed to him.
The Orimons rescued from Asmeodai’s torture had recovered. Shortly afterwards, a resistance, known as Rentanga, had been formed against the evil that controlled their realm. In the shadows, they gathered and plotted to regain what had been lost.
The fight had gone slowly.
Years had passed.
Rentanga began with the unification of the great houses of Witheleghean, the elves, fairies, and dwarves. Most had been thankful to have survived the onslaught.
Sangrey had not been false in his assertion of which Orimons to save. Among the Wise, the houses that were saved held strong magic.
Included in those saved during the rescue from Asmeodai’s the Highborn Chamber had been seven houses: Crey, Merclogh, Okeden, Redferne, Hallstude, Wardle, and Dinge.
Each held magic needed to fight the black magic that controlled their land.
The fear of Asmeodai finding their hiding place had gradually faded. Their courage returned.
Yet, through the years, the fairies and dwarves had fallen away from Rentanga. The fairies hid deep within the depths of the Charmed Woods. Whereas, the dwarves fled to the far recesses of the Maunga Mountains.
Their cowardice hurt, but had not halted Rentanga.
Secret missions into the realm had gained members, mostly vassals hiding from Asmeodai’s eye. Unfortunately, none had magic.
Carefully chosen battles had been won. Confidence had grown within the ranks among all the allies.
Alric was worried about the alliance’s approach to the victories.
“The Parkua of Death has to be stopped if there is any chance of reclaiming Witheleghe.” Alric stared at Kirshawe. “It is not up for debate.”
“Tell me again why it is you that gives us orders,” Wardle demanded. Extending his hand, a fireball appeared. “You are not a Flandigana, nor have any connection to any.”
“Extinguish your flame, Wardle,” Nabbe said, unblinking. “You have no intention of using your power against Ser Alric or any of us.”
Alric pushed back on his chair and stood. Despite Nabbe using his ability to sense that Wardle would not throw the fire in his hand, Alric recognized that Wardle was not the only one that felt he was not worthy to lead.
“Lest I remind you that it was I that took you out of the Highborn Chamber. It is I that keep you safe,” Alric said blithely. “I lead only until the children return.”
“The children?” Dinge scoffed. “They are not children now, even if they aren’t dead.”
“Faith needs to be held,” Alric countered. “I only hold us together until the rightful Flandigana claims the throne.”
“You say that now,” Kirshawe’s nostrils flared. “You already hold power. Has not your wife claimed to be the Elfin Queen? How do we know you will not seek to keep control once Asmeodai is gone?”
“It is not the elves that should be a concern. They stand beside us and have not faltered.”
Alric wanted to add unlike the fairies and dwarves. Bae had said that fear of the looming battle had sent them into hiding.
Nabbe rose. Extending his hand to silence the other Orimons, he said, “Look at where we live. Tuhinga O Mua is here because of Ser Alric. Do not forget. We cannot fight amongst ourselves.”
“I agree with Nabbe. This conversation is for another day,” Hallstude interceded. “There is no realm to rule. Because we have won a few battles does not mean we have defeated Asmeodai.”
“There will be no people to rule if you believe we can stop Asmeodai from his tunnel. It is damn foolishness that will see us all killed.”
A shadow of disquiet fell as Kirshawe’s words echoed within the cavern. Alric saw on the faces of the others that they too feared Asmeodai’s wrath.
There was nothing Alric could say to allay their fears.
Instead, Alric said, “Fear needs to be dead to us. If not, it will rule us and be our downfall.”
“It is easily said, harder to accomplish. You have not seen your family torture and killed in the most horrific manner,” Redferne broke his silence. “It is not our lives that have us concerned, Ser Alric.”
“What harm could come from living peacefully within Tuhinga O Mua?” Hallstude asked. “Surely if we could not ask for more.”
Alric shook his head. “My magic will not hold forever. I have held it in place for more than a decade. I feel the drain.”
“Even the most powerful magic has limits,” Nabbe said. “We are not foolish enough to believe otherwise.”
“Nor can we hide forever.” Alric saw no reason not to cut to the heart of the matter. “We cannot hide as the dwarves and fairies. We are all that stands between Asmeodai and total annihilation.
“We have no choice. Either we work together to stop Asmeodai or perish.”
* * * *
The light of the setting sun glowed over Tuhinga O Mua, while nature’s noises filled the air. Bubbling water of the underground springs. Birds sang, giving way to a wholesome peace.
Alric took strength in the scene before him.
He often climbed over the rocks to the top of the cavern’s entrance. From this view, he could see for miles.
Here he was able to think.
In truth, he could understand the others taking a false sense of security within Tuhinga O Mua. Is it not what he himself strove for his family and his descendants to live within… this tranquility?
Yet, he knew the darkness had grown in the world outside. Already his life before the Darkening seemed nothing more than memories of a troubled dream.
Below him, the sound of children’s laughter rang out over the dale. He watched the young ones run through the clover, falling, and tumbling into each other.
He smiled at the sight of his own young daughter trying to keep up with the older ones. Thea had been born almost two years ago. His heart had grown on that day.
Thea giggled as Shalendra, Sae’s youngest child, picked her up and swung the little girl in the air. Butterflies emerged in the wake of his daughter.
His daughter was much like her mother, strong in the ways of elves. His daughter’s hair was white as snow. Her eyes were an ever-changing color, dependent upon the weather. They glittered with the stars. Her presence had enhanced Tuhinga O Mua, the reason why she now lived here in the caverns.
Bae had made a great sacrifice. She allowed her only child to live among men so they could survive.
At Thea’s birth, Bae gave the care of their daughter to Sae, who had raised many children of her own. Bae had never been blessed until their union.
Sae lived once more at Tuhinga O Mua along with Gormar, Shalendra, and her other eight children and their families. The pull upon her magic had lessened.
Tuhinga O Mua thrived.
“Thea has grown since last I saw her.”
Alric watched his brother walk up the trail in a brown cape embroider with a single yellow rose. Over his mail, Ewan wore the light yellow Sexton surcoat with his sword hanging in a sheath about his waist.
Unlike his brother, Alric wore Flandigana purple with their sigil of a fierce fleogan, feeling he had sworn to uphold the Flandigana rule as a squire. He held to his word. A reminder to all in his belief that Flandigana would once more rule.
Ewan had recovered from being under Asmeodai’s spell that had placed him in the Highborn Chamber. He had gained weight and now was almost the statue of Alric with firm muscle tone.
His toasted brown hair had regained its shine along with his blue eyes. He had cut it like Alric, wearing his hair loose down to his shoulder.
“As it was for me,” Alric clasped his brother’s hand. “I live for the day that I can live with my family under one roof.”
“I wish nothing more for you,” Ewan said. “How did the Orimon Council go?”
Alric frowned. “Most do not listen. They choose instead to hope that Asmeodai will turn his eye away from us if we leave him alone.”
“It is our nature.”
“They must change,” Alric insisted emphatically. “The battles we have chosen have been strategic. We have been the aggressor, using our magic to full advantage. Yet, these clashes have yielded nothing, except a few dead Arachnidans and to anger Asmeodai.”
“The skirmishes have hid your true intent.”
“Digging within the rubble of the city to intercept the Parkua of Death,” Alric said as to himself. “We cannot let Asmeodai reach the physical barrier between our realm and Siochanta.”
“You place too much trust in the other Orimons. Time does not allow for anything except the truth,” Ewan replied. “In the past, Orimons used their power without fear. There are those that have no heart for this battle.”
Alric realized Ewan told the truth. They are bloody idiots, Alric thought. “Tell me, Brother, what am I to do? They are right, I have no right to dictate to them.”
“You are wrong,” Ewan insisted. “You saved us.”
“It would seem some have forgotten.”
Ewan shook his head. “Nabbe says it is only Kirshawe and Wardle that have issues, believing you are from a minor house. The brashness of those Orimons only reiterated the reason why King Darius had need of Vaellyn magic. It is not only you that has faced the obstinacy of Orimons.”
“I have no desire to rule,” Alric stated vehemently. “Only survive.”
Alric watched Ewan rub his stubble chin. He realized Ewan wanted to say more.
“Ewan, I cannot trust many, but in you I do. What are you holding back from me?”
“It is not me that you need to ask that question, but Nabbe.”