Stormfyre Chapter 33

As frigid as the land at the base of the Canvese Mountains was, it failed to compare to the arctic cold that swept in freezing blasts across the open plains of the land of the ageless. It was only a half day's travel from the village of the Casaama tribe to the legendary tomb of Bryan Stormfyre, but that half day seemed to last an eternity. Verion warned them to find warmer clothes still, heavy fur lined leggings and vests to wear over their clothes, along with hooded coats to retain heat. Even with all of it they could still be cold, still shiver violently when a frigid wind befell them.

            The great stone wall loomed closer after a time and the wind lessened as less and less of it could reach them from the pass that they were nearing. It was early afternoon when they reached the foot of the wall. Looking straight up, it seemed that one could climb to Heaven from it. It almost did seem divine in some fashion, too broad of scope for man to ever hope to create such a thing. From either side there was only sifting white and shrieking wind, whipping past them and trying to tear at their coats.

            Verion located the tomb's entrance. It was a cut of grey stone standing fifteen feet in height with a man sized hole for an entrance. The door looked as though it burrowed right into the heart of the ancient wall. Blackness dominated the tunnel that stretched far beyond the mouth, with crumbling stone underfoot and slanting arches above. Cameron produced a torch from his saddle bag, stepping several feet into the old tunnel before lighting it. A pale yellow glow crept around him, casting light over stonework that may not have seen humans for hundreds of years.

            "Stay close together," Cameron warned them, "You never know when a place like this might fall apart, or what beast might have made it their home." Damien nodded and Kirstin pulled her sword from the scabbard, looking back and forth once before following. Verion went last, the centiant having to stoop low to keep up with them. Still he didn't seem to disturb the surroundings, only passing through like an enormous shadow.

            After a hundred paces or more a room with a high ceiling opened up beyond the tunnel. The room was filled with fallen rock and cracking stone, the walls a testament to how long this room had stayed intact. At the opposite end of the room was a door chiseled fully from stone, standing better than eight feet in height. A column, once used to support the weight of the ceiling overhead had broken from its moorings and rolled in front of it. Etched into the stone above the frame of the door was a symbol. Twin lines of flame, interlocking, pierced darkened clouds, lancing the earth below.

            "What manner of symbol is that?" Verion questioned.

            "Got me. I've never seen it before," Cameron replied.

            "It is the standard of Bryan Stormfyre. The fire striking the earth was a symbol of the One's bond with him when he took the High Throne three centuries ago," Damien said without looking at either of them. The room seemed to be filled with knowledge scrawled onto the walls, some lost from age and damage, but other writings intact.

            "Thanks for the history lesson, father," Cameron told him, stepping closer to the broken column that barred the door. He rolled over the near four foot wide round stone and dropped down to a crouch near the door. Kirstin neared him and held another torch to his, letting it come to life before making her way over to where Damien wandered the room, sliding open hands along the walls. The priest smiled over nothing, his mouth working out words chiseled into the walls.

            "Verion," Cameron called out, "Come here." He waited for the centiant to approach, pushing with a hand to gauge how heavy the massive stone column was. Frowning, he turned his attention back to Verion. "Do you think you could move this? From what I can tell, there's nowhere else to go."

            "I will attempt," Verion shrugged, leaping gracefully to the other side of the column, the dark skinned centiant lowered his back and put both hands against the cool stone. His stony face went from calm serenity to gritty determination as he pushed ever harder, groaning lowly as he fought to move the pillar. Cameron spun about, pressing both legs against the wall and pushing with his back to aid Verion. The pillar moved with a thundering crunch, rolling over broken pieces of loose stone and rumbling side over for several feet until it ceased its movement.

            "Are you alright?" Cameron asked the centiant while Verion knelt there, one hand flat to the floor for balance.

            "I am well, Cameron Reol, thank you. I only need a moment to rest."

            "Father," Cameron called to him, "Help me with this door." Damien moved to the other side of the column, tracing a hand along it. A large iron handle was bolted into one side of the door. Cameron grabbed the handle near its top while Damien took the lower part. Pulling back brought the door slowly open, releasing stale air in a gush over them, making them cough and put arms over their mouths. Cameron gave Damien a curious look when the warrior realized that the wind washing over them was warm, far warmer then the frigid wind that blew outside the tomb.

            "Come on. This is what we came for," Cameron beckoned with the sweep of an arm. Holding his torch with one hand before him, Cameron pulled his sword out with the other, placing the length of sharpened steel behind him to hide its shine. Verion was last again as they entered the next tunnel, this one less decayed than the first. Only a few crumbling pieces of broken support columns spanned the four foot path. Again the tunnel opened broad into another room, this one far larger than the first they encountered. The dank smell of water hung still in the air and the stone under foot was slick with moss. Ahead of them the torch light caught the reflection of water. There were pools of clear water on either side of a flattened path that was only inches above their surface. The path had no rails and made its way into the darkness beyond the radius of the torchlight. Twin pillars of marble stood to either side of the open path, both spiraling into the black above their heads where the torch light couldn't reach. Waves of almost clear steam weaved a path off of the water for several feet, saturating the stone all around the pools. In the distance, at the end of the path that led beyond the pools, there was the vague silhouette of a staircase leading up.

            "Look here, Cameron," Kirstin said, peering around the length of one of the pillars. Cameron stood beside her and saw a black iron sconce set into the stone between the water and column. The top of the sconce blossomed out like a bowl shape, still retaining burning oil from the smell of it.

            "Kirstin," Cameron began, "go see if there's another one of these near the other column. If there is, and there's oil in it, light it." Kirstin smiled once at him before running over to the other column. Cameron put the light of the torch almost half way into the oil and winced when it burst aflame, a small ball of fire belching a few feet into the air. A plume of smoke trailed after the ball of fire into shadow. A yelp from Kirstin told him that she had the same occurrence with hers.

            With stronger fire filling the massive chamber more could be seen. The Stormfyre standard, the rods of fire interlocking, were in much larger context on an opposing wall better than two hundred feet away from them. The standard itself was near twenty five feet in diameter, chiseled into the length of the graying wall at the top of the stairs. On the landing at the head of the stairs sat a stone set casket. The marble formed of the tomb was stained a pure black, absorbing all light rather than reflecting it. If Cameron didn't know better he could swear there was a bluish hue beyond the casket.

            "Let's follow the path to the staircase. I lead," Cameron pointed just behind him, "Father, you stay just behind me. Kirstin, go after him. Verion, watch the back of us." The centiant nodded, unslinging his quarter staff and pacing after the three. The air slowly flowed from one side of the room to the other as they crossed the wet stone walk, and the room was silent save for the crackling fire behind them and in their hands.

            "We shouldn't have lit the fires. Something has awakened," Verion said as he stopped, crouching low to the walk.

            "What has awakened?" Damien asked, scanning the room for any sign of life. The room remained still.

            "I know not. I do know that the fire arouses the beast. It comes for us now. I can sense it."

            "From the water?" Kirstin queried. Her answer was denied as the pool to their right exploded, frothing waves rolling past them, extinguishing Cameron's torch and nearly pulling Damien right off of the path. Soaking wet, the party raised weapons toward the towering monstrosity that had pulled itself from the surface of the pool. The beast must have been fifty feet in length, with the head of a giant hammerhead shark, eyes gleaming slivers of yellow set deep into the sides. The body was a hardened length of segments, long, curved spikes standing from the spine, dripping water. Two translucent strands of flesh waved and flickered back and forth at the base of the monster's neck, stretching out ten feet each. It opened its mouth and roared; a high pitched tempest that made them cover their ears and crouch down. A spray of water fell from the open crevasses of its mouth, splashing back into the pool about the monster's worm like midsection.

            "What is that thing, Verion?" Damien asked, backing along the path toward the light of the sconces.

            "It is known as Mandradagora, in my tongue. It hunts near large bodies of water, salt water or fresh. There must be a connecting tunnel to the ocean for this beast to live here. It is much larger than the Council described them in stories." The Mandradagora singled out Kirstin, shrieking loudly as it swept toward her. Kirstin nearly froze where she stood, staring into the beast's open maw. She recovered at the last instant, hurling her torch into the creature's mouth when it was close enough. It clamped its jaw shut and reeled back, trails of black smoke leaking from its mouth as the beast spat out the length of wood. It growled lowly at them, lowering its body and snaking back and forth. Saliva trailed in ropes from its toothy maw, the yellow eyes ablaze with rage.

            The beast lurched forward, jaw wide again. This time it made a dive for Cameron, gnashing its teeth as it sought to take him in whole. The warrior dropped and rolled left, standing when the beast extended its enormous head to its limit and striking. His sword clove a bloody path along the beast's side, nearly taking the gossamer length of flesh on that side clean off. Screeching, the Mandradagora swept left and then right, bowling Damien over and almost wrenching Cameron's sword out of his hand. The warrior made a second strike for it and caught one of the segments near the head. The steel bit down hard, cutting almost a foot in and passing back out, striking the wet stone below it. 

            The beast withdrew, shrieking angrily and pulling itself fully from the water as its own blood painted a path along the once placid surface. It stayed there for a time, levitating a foot or two over the pool's surface, the yellow eyes ablaze with malice. Still levitating, the monster propelled itself at Kirstin again, jaws opening to reveal a maw of needle like teeth. Ducking low, Kirstin rolled on her back and stabbed straight up when the creature was right over her, her legs splashing into the water's edge as she landed. The sword found purchase and it recoiled from her. Its movement was lightning fast, taking Kirstin with it as it rose, her sword still embedded into the Mandradagora's side. Verion leapt into action, bounding from the stone walk and clamping down with both hands on the monster's side, dropping his quarter staff as did so. When he was secured and the beast had leveled off, trailing along the pool toward Cameron, the centiant grabbed Kirstin by the collar of her heavy shirt and hauled her straight up onto his back.

            "Hold on," he told her. Kirstin wrapped both hands around the centiant's thick neck, sword still in her grasp, when Verion pushed himself off of the monster, hurling nearly thirty feet through the air before touching down on slick stone behind the priest.

            Damien ran to them, his eyes wide with concern, "Kirstin, are you alright? Were you harmed at all?"

            "I'm fine, father," she assured him, using Verion's strong arm to stand. She leveled her blade just past the priest, her face forming a snarl on it. "Cameron!" she screamed. The Mandradagora was weaving slowly toward the warrior, a guttural growl rumbling in its throat as it crept closer to him. Cameron only stood there, though, sword at his side as he stared helplessly into the creature's eyes. Kirstin pushed Damien aside and charged the enormous beast, waving her sword high in the air as she screamed a battle cry at it. It turned to face her, jaw snapping shut and opening again. She lunged forth at the last second, letting the weight of the beast's body plant her sword deep into its head. Its left eye exploded in a spray of white mucus, nearly making Kirstin gag, but she held fast to her sword and plunged ever deeper.

            Cameron came around a second after, wavering as if something had just let him go from its powerful grasp. He took one look at Kirstin struggling against the Mandradagora and stepped in, swinging down with a two handed stroke. The stalk that held the beast's other eye vanished in a blur of steel. Gouting red covered the walk as it thrashed in agony, all vision gone from it. Kirstin pulled her sword back out, layered in the juices stirring in its head and put it right back in, slashing a brutal gouge into the side just below its mouth all the way to the segmented neck. It lurched forward with her cut and the gossamer wing it had in its side bowled her over. The creature screeched one last time, a terrible howl that made the walk tremble and debris fall free from the ceiling. Then the head crashed onto the stone and the body shuddered, the tail rising from the pool and slapping back down nearly fifty feet away. Foaming water rolled away and calmed, leaving only eerie silence to mark the passage of the battle.

            Cameron stared grimly at the beast, stalking closer to it and raising his blade over his head, point facing the top of its skull. He planted it there, putting all of his weight onto the sword until he heard the steel scrape against the bottom. Breath coming hard from his lungs, Cameron wrenched the blood laden steel from the Mandradagora and dipped it in the pool to clean it. Kirstin watched him for a moment, then followed suit. Damien approached the warrior, a look of caution about him.

            "Cameron, what happened? Why were you standing there doing nothing?"

            "I don't know, father," Cameron replied, "I was about to charge it when I met its eyes. I froze where I stood, without the will to raise my sword against it." Cameron walked over to Kirstin and grasped her hand with one of his. "Thank you, Kirstin. I might have died there if you hadn't been brave enough to aid me."

            "It was nothing," Kirstin said as a light shade of red crept into her cheeks. She did, however, allow her hand to linger in his until he took it away.

            "Well, father. If that happens to be the only surprise in this tomb, then let's go retrieve what we came for."

            Cameron led again, first taking time to relight the wet torch that was lying near his feet. Another thirty paces brought them to the staircase, a set of cool white marble that was set into the walk and the wall behind it. At the top of the stairs was a broad, flat sarcophagus engraved with vines and flowers etched of cold stone. And there was the banner of Bryan Stormfyre all along the top of it. There were two fire pits on the sides of the sarcophagus, a foot deep or more that stood five feet apart from the corners of it. Cameron lowered his torch into the first pit, then the next, and the oil caught and burned, reflecting in a pall of blue off of a magnificent sword laying flat on a smooth rock pedestal.

            The sword was midnight blue along the blade, sparkling like the deepest oceans when the fire light caught it just so. The hilt was two handed, dark silver and broad hilted with leather wrapping to keep sweating hands from slipping in the midst of combat. There was a haze before the blade, surrounding it from all sides like a sheen of light barely perceived. No one spoke for a time.

            "What is this?" Verion questioned. The centiant didn't seem very moved by the sight of the legendary sword.

            "It is the soul blazer," Kirstin answered him. "It has to be! Name of the One! This really has to be the soul blazer, doesn't it, father?"

            "I believe so," Damien said, his heart beating faster as he looked over the blade. So this was the weapon that Bryan Stormfyre used to vanquish the saevant when he led his armies in the Magi Slayer Wars. It certainly looks like a holy weapon, Damien noted.

            "This is what you came for, father," Cameron leaned back against the wall and tried hard not to seem impressed by the entire situation, "Why don't you go claim it?"

            Damien pulled his gaze from Cameron and stepped toward the sword when the world went black around him. The next thing he could remember was being slapped awake by Cameron while Kirstin looked over him, her face filled with worry. He felt tired.

            "Father?" Cameron asked when he saw Damien's eyes slowly opening. "What the Hell just happened? You went to grab the sword and fell on your face. Was the battle too much for you?"

            "Amusing, Cameron," Damien grunted as he stood. Cameron grinned at him, helping to brush dust off his coat. "I think something is guarding the sword."

            "Something other than that Mandradagora, you mean?"

            "The beast was here because it chose the tomb as its dwelling place. This ward was put here to keep the unwanted away. There must be some way to retrieve the sword, some way special."

            "Special?" Cameron echoed, "Father, not to mock you, but did you hit your head harder than I thought when you fell? What are you talking about?"

            "Damien Alohm means that this power was placed here to be countered by one means and one means only. Simply walking to it and taking it from the pedestal will not do."

            "We'll see," Cameron remarked. After that they tried many things. Cameron went about judging how far the field of light that surrounded soul blazer extended. After passing out once, he discovered it had an eight foot reach in any given direction. Swinging his sword at it didn't avail him anything; he was too short to reach it. Verion couldn't reach the sword either, even with his long arms. Throwing rocks at it failed to make the sword fall from its pedestal. There was no rope for any of them to attempt to lasso the blade, and when Cameron launched his fur cloak over the sword and pulled the double edged sword cove through it, leaving a foot long slash near his calves.

            "Tell me, father! You're supposed to be the holy man here! What do we have to do to get this thing? Oh, I know! I'll ask it nicely if it wants to come with us! Why didn't I think of that before?" Cameron laughed, slapping a palm to his forehead and sinking down against a wall. Kirstin was already at the wall, her cheek resting on a knee, thinking.

            Damien ignored Cameron's outburst, concentrating on the matter at hand. He knew the One wanted the man that claimed the sword after Bryan Stormfyre to be clever, this much was evident. But he had to admit that he was running out of ideas. Verion had even volunteered to sprint for the sword but Damien had to put that out of his mind. If the centiant made it too far into the center and passed out, there may have been no way to rescue him.

            "What is it that I'm failing to see here?" Damien whispered, balling up his fists and shaking them at his sides.

            "Let us think over what has been attempted here, Damien Alohm," the centiant said.

            "It is obvious that throwing anything, no matter how heavy, at the sword is going to jar it from where it lay. Nor is tossing anything over it going to bring it to us. There has to be some way to step beyond the haze of light and take it."

            "Cloaking yourself, perhaps?" the centiant offered.

            "I don't think so," Damien countered, "What would it matter to the power of the One that a man cloaks himself before stepping beyond the light. No, there is something that we have not thought of yet. Something truly clever."

            "Why not go in asleep?" Kirstin asked from where she sat slumped against the wall.

            "Pardon?" Damien said.

            "Nothing else works, father," she said to him as she raised her head to look at him, "It makes sense, kind of. If you cannot go to the sword while you are awake, like it seems, then you must enter the light when you're asleep."

            "Kirstin!" Damien bellowed, making her start, "That just might work! What a stroke of brilliance! I will put myself to sleep and one of you will roll me into the circle of light. We will see if this theory of Kirstin's is a sound one."

            "Are you sure that is wise, father?" Cameron asked, using his sheathed sword as a crutch to help him stand, "What if we can't get you back out from there?"

            "Have faith, Cameron," Damien replied with a challenging smile, "Kirstin's plan is quite sound, if you think about it. I think it will work." Kirstin smiled warmly at the priest. Damien patted her hand before laying down, crossing his hands over his chest and closing his eyes.

            "The One God that sits in judgment of us all, I come to you as a humble servant, seeking only for a small favor. I pray that you make me sleep, my God, so that I might better do your bidding. Amen." With the utterance of the last word Damien was fast asleep, breathing deeply and undisturbed.

            "You heard the man," Cameron told them, "Let's roll him inside."

            Verion and Cameron rolled Damien until the priest passed the near invisible barrier that surrounded the sword. The instant that he was fully inside the light, Damien sat straight up, eyes wide like he woke from an invigorating nap. The light ebbed and vanished from sight, leaving only the shining brilliance of the soul blazer.

            "Kirstin's plan...?" Damien questioned, looking a touch addled.

            "It worked well, father. The light warding the sword has vanished."

            Damien stood tall and approached the pedestal, beckoning the others to follow him. Licking his lips, Damien reached out a hand for the hilt of the sword. A bead of sweat rolled from his forehead. Swallowing hard, ready for anything, the priest grasped the leather clad hilt of the sword and hefted it into the air. The blade was long, perhaps some five feet in length, and lighter than he expected it to be. The deep blue of the sword glimmered in the fire light as he turned it back and forth in both hands. He had never held a sword before, but this one felt nothing like a sword. Swords were for killing, besting an enemy. This was a thing of beauty, no matter the form it took.

            "Oh, father!" Kirstin exclaimed, clasping her hands together. Her eyes gleamed nearly as bright as the sword's edge. "We did it! We have the soul blazer!"

            "No, Kirstin," Damien corrected her. "You did it. You thought of the means for obtaining the sword. Therefore I think it only fair that you take it. You have earned the right to wield soul blazer."

            "Father," Kirstin gasped, "I...don't know what to say. I...I would love to wield such a weapon, but the sword I have," she patted the blade at her side, "Trost's sword is all that I need. But thank you."

            "I understand," Damien told her. "Cameron?"

            "Keep it, father. I have no use for a holy sword. And I'm sure it has no use for me."

            "Very well," Damien sighed, pulling the blade closer to him. He suddenly noticed a scabbard lying where the blade had been. It was crafted of black leather, with silver buckles where the belt strap connected near the top. Shrugging, Damien took up the scabbard and frowned. It was too short for the sword!

            "What manner of foolishness is this?" Damien queried, comparing the sword to the sheathe that was meant to hold it. Pressing the tip of the blade against the sheathe, he slid the length of divine steel into the scabbard and gasped when it fit. The sword had lost at least a foot of length when he placed it into the scabbard. Pulling it back out, Damien noted that the sword was unblemished.

            "A peculiar power," Verion commented. Cameron only shook his head.

            Damien tied the soul blazer to his side and followed the others as they trekked back out of the tomb. Taking care to skirt the remains of the Mandradagora, they left the giant chamber, letting the fire pits and sconces burn themselves out after a time. They climbed over the crumbling column in the first chamber and made their way out of the long tunnel that connected the tomb to the outside. Their horses were still there, twitching and neighing, frost forming thick along their thick pelts. 

            As they were mounting their steeds, Verion pointed to the east, where a thick line of blackened smoke filled the air. It was only an hour or so away.

            "What is it, Verion?" Cameron asked the centiant.

            "There is a village there. Ageless dwell there. It is small compared to the village we left to the south."

            "The village is on fire," Cameron mouthed. Verion nodded.

            "Are you sure?" Damien asked, "It could be some sort of bon fire to keep warm. It is rather frigid out here."

            "That's no bon fire, father. The ageless wouldn't be foolish enough to build such a fire where Avalon soldiers could spy it. Someone has attacked their village and set it aflame."

            "Then we must help them!"

            "We must bring soul blazer back to the elder of the village, father!" Cameron countered. "Ferrin's there, waiting for us! Whoever did that may still be there, father. We are no match for a battalion of seasoned troops. Do you really want to endanger all of us?"

            "We can go quickly and see," Damien began, "Just see if we can help in some way. There is no harm in that, Cameron."

            "Damn," Cameron muttered. "Let's go then. I know when you won't back down in the face of sense and this is one of those times. Let's get moving." Cameron reared his horse around and galloped along the side of the vast wall, hidden in its shadow. The others followed, Verion last. The village loomed closer as they rode, trailing thick snow in their wake. A cluster of huts with rounded tops and sheds attached to their sides were burning or smoldering. Bright tongues of flame flowed in and out of them, making the wood weak and brittle. One of the huts collapsed in on itself, sending a yellow ball of gouting fire into the air. Ageless were near them, some of them bleeding, others scrambling for weapons to defend themselves with. Damien was off of his horse in a flash, dropping to his knees near one of the pale giants and praying to the One for the power of healing.

            Screams came from another hut as a wall fell outward and the roof collapsed, pinning one of the ageless, a woman by the look of her, under the burning wood. One of the ageless warriors dropped the club he had been holding and slid down to aid her only to have a sheet of fire lance almost straight up from the blaze and blind him. Hands clamping over his face, the warrior fell to his knees and buried his face in the snow.

            Verion stalked methodically toward the hut, never flinching when the fire embraced him. He knew that fire was a natural element and therefore couldn't harm him. Grasping the blazing wood in his bare hands, the centiant plucked it up over his head and hurled it away from the rest of the hut. He was nothing more than a moving fireball then, all of the furs that he wore over his massive frame catching fire and falling off of him in shreds. His form could scarcely be seen amidst the fire he fought to put out.

            "Verion!" Kirstin screamed, running toward the hut and stopping short when the heat became too intense. Cameron brushed past Kirstin while she stood transfixed, hands cupped over her mouth, watching the centiant hurl charred wood off of the injured ageless woman. Cameron knelt before her and looped his arms under her own, pulling backward until she was free of the fallen hut. She pitched Cameron away with the wave of her arm and tried scrambling to her feet, speaking to the ageless warrior in what must have been their native tongue. The ageless warrior was rolling haplessly in the snow, his eyes singed from the heat of the flames.

            "Hold him!" Damien commanded as he dropped down in the snow near the man. Cameron grumbled something under his breath but did as the priest commanded, grabbing for the ageless man's wrists. It was all he could do to pull back and keep the ageless from thrashing in pain. His eyes were swollen shut and leaking puss and tears. Then Verion knelt down with Cameron and clamped his hands on the man as well, pinning him to the snowy earth.

            Damien blanched when he realized that the centiant was totally naked, all of his heavy furs having been burned off when he entered the blaze. But there wasn't a single burn on him, his flesh was unblemished, cool even, Damien found out when he knelt down beside him to begin his prayer.

            "What are you doing?" the woman cried out at them, flailing her arms and legs in an attempt to stand. She dropped down again, a moan of pain escaping her lips as she grabbed one of her legs.

            "I am healing this man!" Damien returned as he finished his prayer and laid down hands that glowed with a radiant white. The ageless warrior stopped his thrashing and fell still, his breathing becoming steady and his hands falling away from his face. Eyes clear as a winter's sunrise stared at the priest and a smile slowly formed on his pale features. Damien smiled back at him.

            "You have returned my vision to me, healer. I do not what to say, except to thank you. I... thought you were going to attack us; else I would not have raised a weapon to you. I believed you to be one of the many humans that came upon this village earlier this day."

            "Humans?" Damien asked the ageless warrior as he offered him his hand to help him stand, "What banner did they wave, do you recall?"

            "I cannot say, healer," the ageless told him in deep tones, "They rode in swiftly and began to set fire to our huts, killing those that tried to stop them. When they caused enough destruction for their liking they fled south again. I do not know what they came for."

            A small crowd of ageless had gathered around the humans, each looking upon them with scorn or curiosity. Some were bold enough to approach the humans and speak with them. Others fell away when they noticed Verion standing amidst them. They grimaced at the centiant, some brandishing weapons in his direction. Verion ignored them, remaining aloof of all save the priest which he watched kneel down before the female ageless.

            "Please, allow me to heal you," the priest told her. The woman calmed enough to let him pray, her eyes like a hawk's as she regarded him. Other ageless gathered around him and listened to his words, exchanging looks of concern and suspicion. Damien's prayer invoked the healing power again, though, the white radiance that spread from his hands and into her body. In only a moment the burns that covered her arms and legs were gone from sight, sealing up as if they never were. The injuries she sustained when the hut collapsed on her vanished as well. The ageless gathered about him, looks of suspicion replaced by reverence and awe. Kirstin shouldered her way past a few of the ageless warriors until she found Verion.

            "Thank the One that you're safe, Verion. When you caught fire I thought..." her words trailed as her eyes ran up and down his naked body. She tore her eyes from him, her face turning deep red as she lowered her head. "I...I'm glad that you're alright, is all," she finished lamely.

            The sudden sound of screams around them was accompanied by the thunder of horse hooves. From the southern edge of the ruined village came mounted riders, waving shining steel and forming a line as they galloped ever closer to them. The banner of the blazing sword flapped in the wind near their lead rider. Cameron took one look at the gathering of men and gritted his teeth.

            "Get to the horses, now!" Cameron commanded. The conviction in his tone beggared no argument. Damien and Kirstin ran for their steeds while Verion hopped over to one of the ageless warriors and snatched the long flowing cloak off of his back, wrapping it about himself.

            "Who are they, Cameron?" Kirstin questioned as she spurred her steed after his, heading north, opposite the route they entered from.

            "The Honor Guard!" he shouted back at her, "The Honor Guard has found us! Keep riding! Push your horse harder!"

            "We ride to the wall, Cameron!" Damien screamed at him, "You're riding us straight to a dead end!" The priest dared a quick look back. The Honor Guard was trailing through the village, cutting with swift blades at any that dared tried to slow their progress. There was no doubt that they were coming for them. For Kirstin.

            "There must be another path north of here!" Cameron shouted back, "We dare not trek west now; their horses will catch us easily enough! The burning village was only bait! They set the fire to see who might come to see what happened there! And we took the damn bait!"

            "How could they know that we were here?" Kirstin asked, leaning close to her horse to keep the frigid air from freezing her face.

            Cameron didn't answer, only kept riding for the vast wall that loomed before them. A giant gate appeared before them at the base of the wall, broken into two plates that were opened wide enough to allow a horse rider through. The gates stood at nearly a hundred feet high and were forged of solid iron. Beyond the gates there was a winding stairwell that trailed back and forth up the side of the wall of the ageless, vanishing as it continued its ascension.

            "Verion!" Cameron screamed over his shoulder, "Run ahead of us and see if that gate has a control to it, a winch, anything! If there is one, let it go when we get near and get to the stairwell! Wait for us there, alright?"

            "Understood, Cameron Reol!" Verion shot back, picking up speed and charging through a spray of snow as he rushed ahead. The riders behind them were closing in. In less than a hundred paces they might have them. From Damien's count there were eight of them. Eight Honor Guard were more than enough to take care of all of them, Cameron was sure.

            Suddenly the gate was slowly closing ahead of them, grinding on gears that made the ground trembled as the iron doors displaced ice and snow. Kirstin was the first through, followed closely by Damien and then Cameron. The warrior didn't wait for his steed to halt. He leapt off of the saddle, taking care to help Kirstin when she followed suit. Damien was the last to start climbing the winding metal stairwell that overlapped and climbed ever upward, watching with baited breath as the gates pulled close. Three of the Honor Guard made their way through before the iron doors slammed to a close, barring the passage of the rest. Verion smiled as Cameron passed him, holding a length of iron bar that was used as the winch for the door lever. Cameron smiled back, patting the centiant on the shoulder.

            "We may be able to deal with three of them," Cameron admitted, "Perhaps with three, but even then I am not sure."

            "We have soul blazer," Damien reminded him.

            "You keep it," Cameron told the priest, "for a last means of defense, if nothing else." Cameron waited until he was last, keeping vigilant watch on the rising Honor Guard, and then followed them. The stairs went on for many landings, spanning from right to left and then the opposite. The air began to thin and become colder still as they rose, the metallic walks and rails that were bolted to the sides were covered with a glaze of thick ice.

            At last there were no more stairs to traverse, only a broad, iron hall that stretched from where they rose near a wall of solid stone to the west. A steady flow of soupy white mist flowed from the opposite side of the wall, carried by the arctic winds, but there was strong heat in that mist, and a bubbling noise that caught their ears. Beyond the wall of the ageless was an immense lake of boiling water, even larger, Damien could guess, than Homefall Lake near Shiemin. The boiling water was gathered in stone shaped like some giant bowl, the water churning and frothing, sometimes spewing high enough to fly above the wall before coming back down again.

            "Father, Verion! Move across the walk! If there is one way to get up this place there must be another at the other side! Let's move!"

            "But we will have no horses!" Damien shouted back.

            "It won't matter if we're caught up here, father!" Cameron growled, "Now let's move!"

            "Hold there!" came a booming voice from the last flight of metallic stairs, "We are officers of the Dagothian court and we demand that you surrender yourselves to us!"

            Cameron spun to face the source of the voice, pulling his sword free of it’s sheathe when he saw the trio of Honor Guard in their blue and golden plated armor. They had their swords before them, visors over their faces. Verion took his place near Cameron, the iron bar he took from the winch now a makeshift weapon.

            "Give that bar back to us, centiant," the officer commanded.

            Verion smirked at the man, and then made a display of tossing the iron bar from the hall where it disappeared amidst the boiling lake.

            "Terribly sorry, warrior," Verion told him, "Were you referring to that bar? I suppose it didn't carry very much importance anyhow."

            "You will regret that," the man said, lowering his sword, "Take them!"

            Cameron elbowed Verion before breaking into a run after Damien and Kirstin. The centiant charged just behind him. The Honor Guard broke into a run, armor clanking with every step they took.

            "This is great, father," Cameron muttered to himself, peering back over his shoulder to see how far away the men were. He fumbled for a plan in his mind, but none were forming. All he knew was that he had to defend Kirstin. He swore to Devlin Telba that he would protect his daughter no matter what. No matter what, he thought to himself. Feeling the same dark feeling that had crept over him at the Telba farm before the assassins came for Kirstin and Huros, Cameron made ready to turn and fight the oncoming guardsmen.