Awakening (Telindell Book 1) (35 page)

Lord Commander Dreathous set out upon a monstrosity of a horse.  The horse’s skin was ripped, and bones protruded from its body.  Dilintor sat mounted on his own monstrous horse at Dreathous’ side.  They sat upon a ridgeline some distance from the battle, their presence unknown, watching as the vortex consumed the town of Allendale, resulting in Roxees’ death.

Dilintor growled, looking to Dreathous.  “Incompetence.  Let us move in and finish this now.”  Dilintor looked back to a massive Dalronian force, all lusting and eager for battle.

Dreathous glared toward the site of the magical explosion.  “Her fate is her own.”

Dilintor looked to Dreathous.  “My Lord, we could end this now and secure this world for our own.”

Dreathous snarled at Dilintor’s words.  “Do not question me.”  Dreathous drew his massive, dark blade, thrusting the tip against Dilintor’s neck.  “Or your fate shall be no different than Roxees’.”

Dilintor looked fearfully upon Dreathous. “My Lord Commander, please… forgive me.”

Dreathous lowered his blade slowly and slung it upon his back.  He stared at the forces of Alinshahar and Shinrok rallying together, closing their battle.  “We return to Dreath-hold.”

Dilintor thought for a moment before speaking.  “You aren’t planning--”

Dreathous chuckled lightly, interrupting Dilintor.  “One thousand years has passed.”  Dreathous looked towards Dilintor.  “One thousand years of torture administered by the thousands of scorned souls he failed.”  Dreathous lightly nudged his horse, turning and walking away from the cliff’s edge.  “That will be enough for him to have rethought his allegiance.”

Two days had passed since the battle for Kynlynn.  The bulk of Shinrok and Alinshaharian forces remained in Allendale to establish a front between them and the Dalronians who lay beyond the borders.  Oryn established a command center in the ruined castle.  He sat at a table, surrounded by his commanders and Elintae.

Oryn looked to Elinar.  “How many Riders remain?”

Elinar looked at his father in despair.  He shook his head.  “Twenty three survive.”  Elinar let out a sigh.  “Twelve are wounded.”

Oryn placed his hand upon his head with a sigh.  “We lost just more than half of our infantry.”  Oryn raised his head and looked to Stala and Alisia.  “Your reports?”

Alisia smiled slightly.  “A handful wounded, most should recover.”

Stala looked to Alisia and nodded.  “I have the same report.  Our archers are intact.

Oryn looked to Supreme Leader Ceriene of Shinrok.  “Have you received your reports yet?”

Ceriene nodded.  “We lost a few hundred front line soldiers.”  Ceriene looked to the others.  “A few hundred more are wounded, most fatally.”

Elinar looked to Oryn.  “It could have been much worse.”  A shallow smile touched his face.  “We were able to save a few hundred humans, as most of the castle’s dungeons were intact.”

Oryn sighed. “That is something.”

Elinar nodded.  “Many of the men wish to remain with us, to fight.”

Ceriene looked to Oryn as well.  “I will have children and those who do not wish to fight escorted to Shinrok.”  She looked to Elinar.  “Maybe they can find a sense of security there.”  Elinar nodded at her.

Oryn then looked to Elintae.  “Lady Dusk, what of Lian?”

Elintae smiled.  “He has recovered from his injuries.  Lian rides north with his companions.”

Oryn raised an eyebrow.  “North?  What does he seek?”

Elinar smiled.  He knew where Lian was going.

Elintae looked to Elinar and smiled, then returned her gaze to Oryn.  “He seeks peace.”

Oryn shook his head.  “We are far from any time of peace.”

Elintae crossed her arms.  “He seeks peace not for us, but for his mother.”

Oryn stared at Elintae.  “His mother?”

Elintae nodded. “He has slain Roxees.  She was responsible for Lyssa’s death.”

Elintae turned from the table, staring at the clear blue sky.  She glanced around the room, an expression of fear creasing her face.

Oryn took note.  “Lady Dusk, what is it?”

Elintae looked back to Oryn sternly.  “Bolster your lines.  I must go.”  Elintae turned and began to run from the castle.  Thunder cracked, followed by a green flash of lightning, and she was gone.

The orange glow of dusk gripped the land as Lian, Sarath, and Kane journeyed through the forest.  Their horse emerged into the clearing where Lian had laid Lyssa to rest.  The stream gleamed with an orange glow.  Lian and Sarath dismounted their horse.  He took her hand, and they began walking toward Lyssa’s grave.  Kane walked closely beside Lian.  Lian’s eyes widened.  The single blue rose he had placed upon Lyssa’s grave had spawned a blanket of roses.  He smiled, tears shimmering in his eyes.

Sarath gripped his hand tightly.  “It’s beautiful.”

Lian looked to Sarath and smiled slightly.  He led her across the stream to the bed of blue roses.  Lian gazed at the beauty spread across his mother’s resting place.  Sarath squeezed Lian’s hand and pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Sarath looked up into Lian’s eyes.  “I wish…”  Sarath smiled.  “I wish I could have met her.”  She laid her head against Lian’s chest.  “To have a son like you, she must have been wonderful.”

Lian wrapped his arms around Sarath and held her tightly.  He leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead.  “Thank you.  I wish you could have met her also.”  Lian let go of Sarath and turned to his mother’s grave.  He smiled softly.  “It’s done.  She’s gone.”  He loosely clenched his fists.  “She’ll never hurt anyone again.”

Sarath took Lian’s hand.  She looked down to Kane, then up to Lian.  “We should get back.  They will be lost without their hero.”

Lian smiled at her.  No sooner than the three of them had turned toward their horse, a strong gust of wind rampaged through the clearing.  Thunder cracked, followed by a familiar green flash of lightning.  Elintae appeared before them.  The goddess’s eyes were filled with tears, her expression sorrowful.  Lian, Sarath, and Kane looked upon Elintae with shock.

Elintae quickly approached Lian and dropped to her knees.  “I… I beg of you.”  Lian stepped back, even more shocked by Elintae’s pleading.

Sarath crouched down and lifted Elintae to her feet.  “What’s wrong?” 

Elintae glanced to Sarath, then to Lian.  “The extinction of us all is near… You must help me!”

Darren D. Lee is an author from Southwest Virginia.  After six years as a member of the United States Armed Forces, he now resides with his family nestled deep within the Appalachian Mountains.  When Darren isn’t writing, you can find him on a riverbank, or behind the wheel at the race track.  Darren has overcame many dark and troubling times.  In his writing, he tries to convey that hope can lift even the darkest veil.

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