Confusion reigned.
The free Withelegheans were scared…with reason.
Their previous sanctuary had been destroyed. The safety they had once felt was gone.
Asmeodai had found them.
Rentanga had been thrust into a barren place. Fear multiplied that there would not be enough water, food or shelter.
Alric calmed their fears.
Holding his young daughter in his arms, Alric proclaimed to Rentanga the necessity of the move had not necessitated the belief they had been defeated.
We will survive! We will live! Witheleghe is ours! Evil will be driven out!
He meant every word.
He would fight until he had no breath.
Unlike Tuhinga O Mua, water did not flow freely in Pouri Gua. There was only one stream with a pond. The weather was harsher. Yet with the elves, green had already burst forth.
During the turmoil, the Orimons had stayed strong. Their combined strength had held off Asmeodai’s attack upon Tuhinga O Mua until all of the resistance had transported to safety.
Danger still loomed.
Rentanga faced many issues just to survive in Pouri Gua that needed Alric’s attention.
Yet, failure at the Parkua of Death could not be dismiss. Asmeodai would be victorious over Witheleghe, but Siochanta Realm was now endanger.
Unless another plan was implemented soon.
Sangrey had given Alric a grim prediction if the Parkua of Death was not halted.
“There is only one way,” Sangrey stated. “If you have any chance of success.”
“Tell me what I need to do,” Alric said, dismissing any qualms he held toward the Tollin. If the Sangrey had intended on betraying him, Sangrey had had more than enough opportunities.
“Go now to the Arch of Garten. I will send her to you,” Sangrey answered ominously. “It is the only way.”
Sae had transported Alric and refused to leave him.
Returning to what had been his home set Alric’s nerves on edge. The ruins served as a solemn reminder of what had been lost.
In the distant hills, Alric heard the wolves howling. There was nothing left of the manor house. Charred bricks of the chimneys were only thing standing, surrounded by the burnt out remnants of what had been.
The gate had been destroyed, though there was little it could have kept out. The stone wall surrounding the estate had collapsed and was covered in overgrowth of weeds and vines. Nothing was left of his childhood.
He tried to visualize how it once had looked…his parents…his older brothers. He couldn’t. His memories had faded. Why am I fighting? What does it matter?
His self-indulgence into misery was interrupted.
A woman emerged from behind a mound of dirt that once served as the blacksmith shed. “Ser Alric, I am here.”
* * * *
Aurra looked surprisingly young, barely a woman. Her dark brown hair was matted and oily. Though, her eyes were large and expressive. Three triangles entangled with each other marked her forehead as a witch.
She wore rags with an odor that lingered about her. Without question, she had not seen a bath in a long while.
Her expression bore an uneasiness in addressing Alric. Well, she should. I hold no love for an Arachnida witch.
“Noldor told you that we have waited here for over a decade for your appearance.” Her voice was soft and hesitant.
“It means nothing to me. In that time, I have been fighting a great evil. An evil that you came with into this land.”
“Aye, milord, I came with Asmeodai,” Aurra said. “I helped train his dragons. It is what I do. I am known as kai tarakona. Animals talk to me…dragons talked to me. Not many were willing to work with Asmeodai’s dragons…afraid they would be eaten or burned alive. I was not. They became my family.”
“I do not care what you have done,” Alric spoke starkly. “I was told you would help me destroy Asmeodai’s tunnel. That is all I want to know. Can you help me?”
“Yes.” Her eyes turned darker. “I flew upon the dread Jordris, Asmeodai’s largest, most deadly dragon. He obeyed my every command as well as the other dragons.”
A shiver ran through Alric’s spine at her utterance. He remembered well the terror the dragons reigned against Troms.
“I see in your eyes you wonder why I did so,” Aurra continued. “To survive.”
“You must have been only a child.” Alric spoke his misgiving out loud.
“My parents were killed in front of me. I was only five. I saw Asmeodai drain their magic from their bodies. I watch them cry out in agony, shrivel up, and die. Asmeodai left me alive for he thought my magic insignificant. You see unlike Orimons, witches and warlocks magic grow with age.
“The dragons called to me in my distress. They took me in when no other would.” Aurra paused. “You question that dragons would have done so. Then you know nothing of dragons. They are more intelligent than you, Ser Alric, realizing that to survive themselves they had need of a human.”
Alric shrugged. “I give no thought to your tale. It is yours as we all have our own.”
“You want only to know how I can help you.” She nodded. “I held no love of Asmeodai before the invasion. When he killed my dragons, I hated him.
“There was no need…no need,” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I could control them…but that was what he feared. I could…but he could not.”
“So you, too, want revenge.”
Aurra raised her head and met his eyes. “I have had a semblance of my revenge. Why do you think you are here? Why do you believe that Asmeodai has been stuck within Witheleghe? Because Jordris and I closed his gateway in the Maunga Mountains.
“Jordris lives.”