Fable, page 29
The dark mage spent the next hour reading, but it wasn’t until he turned the page past the original section he was studying—something Faiay’aar had missed doing—that he stumbled on something which made his dark red eyes glow and the green amulet on his chest sparkle. He snapped the book shut and headed for Varzunnos’ throne room to discuss something of utmost importance.
Viltzin lowered his head as he slowly entered the dark lord’s chambers. He was excited but was always wary of his master’s moods. If the ideas and plans did not suit him, then he would unleash his fury, which was not pretty. Viltzin had been surprised a few times before, but deep down he knew this information would prove to be what was needed to finish the whole war and destroy the Fae along with their perfect way of life, all while Viltzin planned his own takeover.
“What have you found for me? It better be good after the failed attempt on the palace recently. Do you have more goblins and dark beasts from the forest to build back some forces lost?”
The dark lord had punished Viltzin, though not to the extent of some of the warriors that made it back from the Fae defeat. There were a few still hanging upside down, with metal nails through their ankles to swing from, in the dungeons. Viltzin did not want to be the next casualty of Varzunnos’ bad temper, so continued to find solutions and tread very carefully.
“My lord, I have something even better, which will finish Faelynn for good. You will walk into the crumbling Elvenfae palace as it falls and take the last of the Tuatha treasures for yourself.”
Varzunnos didn’t even blink. He knew he had enough power behind him to take it anyway but wanted to make them all suffer slowly and painfully. His next attack would come soon, and once he had replenished his army some more, he was going to storm the palace and take it himself. He was just hesitant about the dryads and that’s why he needed more troops—to distract them while he entered the palace. But for now he was happy to wait and see what his sniveling necro-mage could come up with.
“Enlighten me with this newfound knowledge you have unearthed; keep in mind I am in no mood for time wasters.”
Viltzin lowered his head as the hood from his unwashed cloak fell forward, covering most of his face. Flicking it back behind his neck with haste, he placed the comprehensive book down onto an oak table in front of the dark lord. Viltzin made eye contact for a moment, noticing Varzunnos’ face change from anger to a more inquisitive look.
“What is this you have before me? It looks like it’s Tuatha Dé Danann.”
Varzunnos stood up and made his way closer to the table, as Viltzin opened the book to the pages of the prophecy and explained what Wyrm had told him. He started rereading the passages and interpreting them before realizing that Varzunnos was of Tuatha Dé Danann and could read perfectly himself.
As the dark lord took the book and processed what the Elvenfae were up to, he burst into laughter and pushed the book away, leaving Viltzin with a desperate wince of confusion.
“What is it, my lord, have I not shown you—”
Varzunnos interrupted the necro-mage as he wound down his laughter to a snicker. “You bring me nothing here—prophecy from the start of our kind, nothing more than a vision from an old bored Tuatha mage. Besides, there are no more Alicorns or unicorns, so how were they going to fulfill such a foolish idea.”
Varzunnos turned and started making his way back to his throne as Viltzin pulled the book back toward him and continued, “But, master, you need to let me finish.”
Varzunnos turned and howled down at his necro-mage, spit and drool hanging from his teeth and lips, “I told you not to waste my time! If you are still here when I turn around, I will have you hanging with the wretched warriors in the dungeons.”
Viltzin was shaking. He needed to explain the rest of the prophecy but didn’t want to upset the already edgy dark lord. He knew he wouldn’t get another chance, so took a massive risk and raised his voice along with illuminating his amulet before continuing, “My lord, hear me out now, this is your last chance to understand me before the Fae take control.”
Viltzin knew the Fae would retaliate, so bravely blurting that out made Varzunnos take notice. Before his master could react, Viltzin had the next page open and started reading, slowing the dark lord down until Viltzin had his undivided attention, “My lord, from the interpretation and from my sources it is said that under a blood moon, in the presence of three powerful mages or enchanted ones, a child born of two-colored eyes will be sacrificed. Taking his blood along with his mother’s while laying a flayed Fae wing over the Tuatha treasure stones, a spell must be spoken as the blade of old-world steel is driven deep into his heart. All this must happen when the moon reaches its apex. This will turn all light into darkness, creating a world of twisted creatures and barren wastelands.”
The dark lord sat up. “Where would we find such a child and how could we get them here before the blood moon you speak of ascends into the sky?”
Viltzin smiled, he knew he had him now and the knowledge he was about to share would seal his fate. “My lord, we have her, here and now, in your dungeon. One of my Elvenfae spies has been sharing secrets and took her and the book before anyone noticed.”
Varzunnos stood up and with a bellow that emanated throughout the halls of the castle demanded her presence immediately. Viltzin rubbed his long, pointed ears. He had never heard such a loud voice before. He bolted out of the dark lord’s quarters and out into the hallway where he was met by two goblins.
“Quickly, bring the woman with child from the lower dungeons here to me now. Do not harm her or I will cut off your heads and hang them out the highest windows for the crows to feed off, do you understand me?”
And with that the two scurried along the hallway and deep down into the belly of the castle, descending to the darkness of the dungeons.
Viltzin returned to the dark lord’s throne room. He was seated and staring at the doorway, waiting in anticipation of his new guest. The necro-mage approached Varzunnos as they waited for the goblins to return.
Varzunnos had one question for his dark mage, and that was enough to wipe the smile off the once more nervous creature, “So, do you have everything in place? I have read the prophecy myself and it states that everything must be used in succession for the spell to work. Now, enlighten me with your plan.”
Viltzin swallowed hard. His throat was dry as he tried to speak. The nerves took hold, and he croaked the first few words before relaxing a little into his eventual response. “My lord, we have the key ingredient. If the prophecy is true, the child will be born with heterochromia along with the birthmark. We know them to be half-blood Fae from Wyrm, my spy. There is a blood moon in five days’ time, so if the child is not born, we will rip it out. We are two of power, and I will hunt down a dark witch from the forest to assist if need be. The only two ingredients we need are an Elvenfae wing and steel from the old world to fulfill the prophecy. We have three Tuatha and it doesn’t stipulate how many, it just states Tuatha treasures, so we nearly have a complete fulfillment.”
Varzunnos sat there, silent for a moment, taking in what his necromage had just explained, before he stood up, lifted his sword and thrust it down hard within inches from Viltzin. The necro-mage looked up, shaking uncontrollably, as Varzunnos continued, “Severed Wing is made from steel of the old world, handcrafted in Faelynn by the best blacksmiths and handed to me as a tribute when I came to adulthood. As far as your Elvenfae wing goes, I am sure you will not find this task too hard. Now start the arrangements. If this fails, I will skin you alive and every time you die I will keep bringing you back until I have had my fill of your pain. Do you understand me, dark mage?”
Viltzin nodded, hissing quietly. He thought about the twisted comparisons between his Zeytar Leader and his new master as he scurried out of the throne room and into his quarters.
Meanwhile, in the dungeons, Serena was awoken by strange howls and cries coming from deeper in the dungeon cells. She was far too scared to ask the goblin guard about it, and even more frightened of the thing in the other cell. She wished she could change into a sprite like all the other Elvenfae, but her enchantment seemed to have stopped where it was, and she would not place her unborn child at risk by attempting an escape. As she sat up, she put her fingers in her ears to shut out the high-pitched shrill that was hard to ignore.
Two goblins holding torches of fire approached the cell door. Serena stood up immediately. She knew they were going to take her somewhere, so she was on guard, ready for anything. She wished she had her beloved Long Leaf with her but little good it would do her with so many guards and monsters around.
The first of the goblins opened the door and entered, as did the next one, spitting and sniffing at the sight of such a lovely creature in front of them. The first one turned to the other and whispered as he licked his lips, “Oh, Valixx, how sweet would she taste? Her blood would be like milk.”
Valixx, too, was drooling at the thought of gently piercing her white flesh with his sharp fangs and suckling her pure blood until it drained her. “I agree, Moxxil,” he said. “I hear she is half human. I’ve never tasted a human before.”
Serena heard every word they were saying and took the opportunity, while they were slightly distracted, to pull a torch from Moxxil and burn his face, before tripping Valixx, stealing his blade, and running out into the halls of the dungeon, slicing goblin guards as they approached her.
Serena was weak. She hadn’t eaten in days and was feeling the effects of her late stage of pregnancy. She did the best she could but wasn’t like she had been a couple of cycles ago. It was only through sheer luck that the goblins were in the next room feasting on a fresh bull they had slain, so security was sparse. As the last of the guards fell, Serena threw the torch away and kept to the shadows, ascending to the top of the dungeon stairs and out into the halls. She found a dark cloak in an abandoned room and put it on swiftly, just before she heard some dark Elvenfae guards marching to their posts. She ducked down and out of sight but one stopped and looked around, sniffing the air. The leader turned and demanded, “What is it, soldier?”
The soldier stopped smelling the air and answered, “Nothing. I thought I smelled something, must be getting hungry.”
The soldiers continued and Serena took a deep breath, trying to slow her accelerated heart. She got to her feet and continued on.
The castle was like nothing she had ever seen before; it had a constant smell of rot and so many rooms and cavities. It was like the palace but twisted, dark, and evil, worse than anything she had ever felt before, with a constant feeling that something was looming, making her feel somewhat depressed. Serena thought that the castle may be alive itself, leading her through halls she did not want to be in, but that would have been absurd.
Serena continued through the castle, looking for exits. When she finally came to a small window to the side of a dark hallway, she looked out, but then fell to her knees, wiping tears from her face. She had just realized the castle was floating in the air and she wasn’t actually heading for any exits, as she was now on the top floor. She still believed the castle must be alive and taunting her with a small vision of freedom that she could not get.
Serena got to her feet. She ran to the end of the long, silent hallway where she could hear some talking coming from a room. She crept over lightly and when she peered inside was met with a ghastly sight, that of the dark mage from her dreams speaking to a goblin. Serena’s sight was so vivid in Faelynn, she could probably see better than any of the Fae because of her half-blood abilities. Ever since she was a child she could see so very clearly, and how she saw the dark mage now was no exception. She could see Viltzin’s outer skin and body, but Serena could also just make out the inner aura of the Zeytar itself, causing her to fall to her knees once more. Sprawled on all fours, she tried to get to her feet and not scream from fright. She was crying in terrified shock and her mind was blank of everything, focused only on escaping the monster she had hoped was not real. She didn’t care now about noise or capture, only escape.
Soon she found her feet, running as hard as she could for a heavily pregnant woman, although it felt like slow motion to her. She saw a huge opening to a large room and her instincts took over, like when she used to play hide and seek with her cousins when she was a child. As she entered the room she was suddenly stopped by an enormous beast standing in the middle of the space. She barely missed the creature before she turned to run back out, but tripped and fell onto the floor. She picked herself up quickly and tried to take off again, but the creature reached out and grabbed Serena by the arm.
“Ah, you must be my guest. Please, don’t leave so soon,” he said in a deep, gruff voice.
Serena struggled but had no chance of escaping such a strong grip— her arm was tiny in his clutch—but it never stopped her trying. As she pulled and struggled, she was staring at the doorway, when the dark necro-mage entered the room, smiling and drooling. Serena knew that was the end of it and succumbed to the clutches of the dark lord Varzunnos before passing out from exhaustion.
Serena awoke minutes later. She’d had water doused onto her face. Looking up she locked eyes with the dark lord himself. His humanoid mix of stag features didn’t seem so frightening to Serena now; in fact, she was quite intrigued by his strange look—that was until she looked down at his bottom half where she saw his hoofed feet coming through the bottom of his armor. She scampered back, but didn’t get far as Viltzin held her down. As frightening as Varzunnos was to most, Serena was far more terrified of Viltzin. She could now only see him as a Zeytar, and although Wilkes was her friend, the race itself terrified her to the core. Viltzin’s grip was tight, and Serena gained enough courage to call the necro-mage out, “Let me go, Zeytar freak.”
Viltzin was shocked by her words, letting go immediately and trying to contemplate just how this half-breed could know his true form. Is she more gifted than I had previously thought or has she knowledge that could bring me down? he thought. Either way it was now Viltzin who was frightened.
Varzunnos disciplined the dark necro-mage, saying, “It seems that we are not the only ones who know your dirty secret. Do not touch her again or you will have me to deal with. Now go and leave us.”
As the dark lord noticed the claw marks from Viltzin’s grip fading, he bent forward and gently brought her to her feet, whispering, “Come. Take a seat where we can talk.”
Serena followed and sat on an old oak chair. The dark lord took her arm and, with his finger, wiped the blood from one of her earlier falls. He placed the finger in his mouth and sucked every drop. Serena wanted to be sick, but she didn’t want to upset the powerful creature. He still intrigued her. It was becoming more and more obvious that Varzunnos had the same interest in the half-blood Fae sitting before him. “Tell me, pretty one, how did you know my necro-mage’s secret? Only I have that knowledge.”
Serena explained carefully the Zeytars’ plans and destructive nature of the agenda on Earth. She had the dark lord’s full undivided attention, not giving away anything about her past, plans with the Fae to defeat the dark ones, or whether Earth survived the devastation or not. Serena finished with the last opinion she had of Viltzin. “You know he will try to overturn you. It’s in their nature to take control and destroy. I know deep down that’s what he will do to you eventually. They are the dirt of the universe and all realms, making you look like an Elvenfae princess.”
Varzunnos stood up, his mood changing into a different, angrier one. He lowered his head to Serena’s level, face to face, and whispered deeply to her, “I eat Elvenfae for breakfast. In five days I will taste your child’s blood and all you know will be destroyed, after which I will take Viltzin and cut him into a million pieces before I hunt every Zeytar in every realm and spit out their bones, do you hear me, pretty one? Don’t test my power.”
Serena could see she had upset him, but she knew her only hope was to create friction between the two. She also knew from his calm nature when they were talking and his soft touch that she would be safe at least until the ceremony she had just learned of, so she would keep working on the tension and pray that Shaylee and the Elvenfae were on their way to save her.
WAR OF WINGS AND SHADOWS
A DARK RIDER CHARGED THROUGH THE TWISTED forests of Xarkynan, swerving and maneuvering between the dense trees faster than anyone would dare to travel in those parts of the lands. This rider had been here before, many times. The swiftness of the ride made it hard for anything to stop him, and the dark horse he was upon had the same knowledge of those paths.
As he came closer to the dark castle, he slowed down, lined his horse up with the stairs, and ascended as quickly as possible until he made it to the highest point where the horse could go no farther. The rider was now in flight, heading to the floating fortress. When he looked back at his horse, he saw it shake its head, turn, and disappear into the darkness of the forest where it would wait to be called upon again.
The dark Elvenfae’s wings were black, twisted, and partly translucent, with veins pumping black blood through his body. His face did not look Elvenfae at all, as it was much grayer and darker, with black eyes, sharp teeth, and ears that climbed higher than those of the palace kind. The dark Elvenfae had dropped his cloak mid-flight and had his sword in hand. His full black armor looked like it was molded from the dark oak of the forest. Nothing was going to stop his quest to reach the dark lord.
Glancing below, he could see that the goblins had found ways of climbing up and down to the castle using entwined swamp vines, strong enough to hold a dozen at a time. They made ladders and ropes as they were not fortunate enough to have wings to fly up and down whenever it suited. Closer and closer he got before finally reaching the lowest point of entry to the castle at the main double doors.
The left door was slightly open, enough for him to slip through. He did not want to fly straight to the top in case the dark lord was busy with other important business. The number one rule was never to interrupt him unless it was his dark mage. This was to stop any creature flying to the top levels of the castle, which Varzunnos hated.
