The Estian Alliance

CHAPTER 5

31st August - Varriann City - Perosya

Three gruesome beasts from the fires of the underworld were now mercilessly hunting Ben Brooker and his companions down. With their far superior eyesight they easily spotted their quarry whilst still some distance away. The lead revalkas slowed his flight to a virtual standstill, hovering over the outskirts of the city below, choosing to survey their options before launching the lethal attack. On the very edge of the small city there stood many tribal warriors, all armed to the teeth with spears, knives, axes, bows and clubs. In the centre of their makeshift defensive line was an old wooden building, around the sides of which several pairs of anxious eyes were now peering. Even from such a distance, with almost his entire body concealed from view, the revolting creature soon spotted his main target, as Ben’s shaven head gave the youngster away. The young boy from Lichfield had been marked for assassination by King Vantrax, and now his time had come!

Ben’s elimination had been ordered by the evil wizard some hours earlier. He believed that it would serve as the perfect warning to all on Estia and beyond who would dare to defy his rule. Ben was the Keeper’s friend and companion, he had protected the stones when King Vantrax’ warriors had attacked at Erriard and in subsequent fights. Many had heard of, or witnessed, his deeds. In the relatively short time he had been on Estia, Ben Brooker had become as much of a rallying cry to the subjugated population as the Keeper himself, as much of a thorn in the wizard’s side as anyone. King Vantrax had decided therefore that he had to die. He marked the youngster for elimination for his own peace of mind, to weaken the resolve of his enemies and instil fear once again into their hearts, to ensure that the boy no longer had the stones in his possession, and to bring one step closer the final victory he was so desperate to complete.

A tense and uneasy standoff developed at the outskirts to the city. The three monsters weighed up their options carefully, using their highly developed brains to decide upon the best angle of attack. Ben remained crouched down low on his haunches, hidden behind the shack and concealed from view besides Verastus, who was leaning against the wooden structure and gazing around it at their attackers.

“Well? What they doin’ now?” asked Ben, anxiously. His palms were sweating and he rubbed them on his shirt.

“They are doing, nothing.”

“Eh? Nothing? What d’ya mean, nothing? They must be doing something?”

“They have halted. Presumably to count our warriors.”

“Oh. They’re smart then, eh? Okay, that means we have some time. How we gonna kill ‘em?”

“I do not know, Ben. Spears, arrows maybe?” replied Verastus, his eyes firmly fixed upon their foe. Still, the creatures did not move.

“Huh! Good answer. Duh,” answered Ben, who just could not help but to ridicule his friend. Humour was a massive part of his defence mechanism and it always rose to the fore when he was scared. He made to lean around Verastus, to gain a better look at the creatures, but he suddenly heard a voice sounding in his head. It was loud and clear and it arrived totally out of the blue, as if someone had just turned on a television or radio nearby.

‘Ben!’

The frightened teenager halted his movement forward and immediately sat back down on his haunches, as he realised to his amazement what was happening. No one could see him but he had a look of complete astonishment upon his face. ‘Knesh? Is that you?’ he asked, using only his mind to communicate, just as he had witnessed others doing. He could not believe what was happening to him. It was all too much like a dream. Only, he knew that it wasn’t. He was certain that it was real, and the stakes for him and his friends were far too high for him to ignore what he heard.

‘No, Ben. It is I, Sereq,’ the voice replied.

‘Sereq! What’s happening? Why are you inside my head? Jake! Is he alright?’

‘Yes Ben, he is as well as can be expected. Listen to me now and listen well, for I have but a very brief moment with you before they attack.’

‘Err… Yeah, okay. Go on, I’m all ears.’

‘We will protect the Keeper, Ben. We will give him the time he needs to restore the stones and win this war, to defeat the wizard.’

‘Great! But, so you should, he’s…’

‘For you,‘ interrupted Sereq, impatiently, ‘we can do little. You are too far away from our current position, and we need to concentrate all the power we have on helping Jake.’

Ben gulped hard at the probable consequences of such a statement. ‘Oh, I see. We’re on our own then?’

‘Yes, I am afraid so. Just three of his beasts face you now. King Vantrax has despatched the remainder of his entire force to seek the main prize, Jake and the stones.’

‘Oh. Three is it? Well then, that don’t sound too bad, does it? I’m sure we can handle three?’

‘Ben! Now is not the time for such bravado. We feel your terror. There is a revalkas among them. I can give you only one thing now which may defeat it. As for the graxoth…?’

‘It’s okay, Sereq. I understand. Do what you must. Please, save Jake and the others, we’ll be fine.’

‘Kraar… You are a very courageous boy, Ben. The Keeper is lucky to have such a friend. Now, when the time comes, when the revalkas is almost upon you, tell Verastus to launch his staff at it, the weapon we gave him. He is to aim at the centre of the beast’s chest.’

‘Yeah, okay. I will.’

‘Good. I must go. Fare thee well. And please accept our sincere gratitude for all you have done for our people.’

And with that, the voice of Sereq sounded no more. Ben opened his eyes immediately to see Verastus tightening his grip on the staff. “They are coming Ben,” cried the Falorian. “Make ready!” he bellowed, to the surrounding tribal warriors, hoping that the true meaning behind his order would transcend the language barrier between them.

Ben placed a firm hand on Verastus’ shoulder. “I’ve just had a vision, big man, a dream or something. I’ve no time to explain it to ya now, but you have to do exactly as I say! You must keep hold of your staff until the last possible moment, until that revalkas thing is right on top of us, okay? It’s the only way we can kill it!”

Verastus was shocked and amazed to hear such words, but he did not question the instruction. “A vision you say? Just now? As we were…? Raart! Ben my friend, if that is what you command, then that is how it shall be.”

Seconds later, the three horrifying creatures flew in hard and fast. They swooped down low to kill several tribesmen on their first pass, catching them in the open as they ran for cover, incinerating them with the fire from the revalkas’ nostrils and then ripping apart any survivors with tails, teeth and claws. Then, they took off swiftly, avoiding all the arrows and spears thrown at them and swinging around for a second pass. This time, all three descended upon the wooden fence which ran alongside the hut, where Ben and the others were sheltering. They fell onto Brraall and his warriors before they had chance to shift their position. The huge tribal leader fought valiantly and with great skill, fighting off his graxoth assailant bravely with sword and spear, ducking and diving, weaving violently to avoid being caught by the beast’s incredibly sharp claws. Eventually, the creature withdrew a little and Brraall escaped, but not before many of his warriors had been killed.

“Raart! I cannot sit here and watch this!” roared Verastus, suddenly. “I have to do something!”

The mighty Falorian immediately broke cover. He sprinted as fast as he could to the centre of the open ground, just as the three beasts took off to circle around for yet another pass. His sudden and unexpected movement caught Ben completely by surprise. It was so swift that the youngster had no chance to stop him. The teenage boy suddenly felt a rush of blood to his brain, and a surge of high octane adrenalin raced through his body. Though he had absolutely no idea why he was doing it, before he could think properly his short and muscular legs were already propelling him across the ground at speed, as he chased after his friend. His lips uttered words he would never have thought possible as he ran.

“Hey! Wait for me! If you’re so determined to be a hero, then I’m coming with ya!”

The lead revalkas immediately spotted their impulsive and reckless dash. It turned swiftly in flight and launched into an immediate dive to counter their action, intending to finish the fight swiftly and kill the young boy, to accomplish its mission.

“Oh sh…!” began Ben, as he witnessed the turn and realised that he and Verastus were now completely exposed. But, before he could finish, he caught sight of his Falorian friend and his heart almost leapt into his mouth. The freed slave had lifted his staff and he was just about to throw it at the nearest graxoth!

“No!” screamed Ben. “Not them! The other one!”

Verastus heard the young boy’s desperate cry just in the nick of time and changed the direction of his aim straight away. A shiny blade appeared out of each end of the staff, turning the long piece of wood once again into a deadly spear. This time however, both blades immediately began to glow brightly. They were alight. Hundreds of tiny sparks of fire surrounded them all of a sudden, reminding Ben instantly of the sparklers he’d held on every bonfire night he had known as a child.

Verastus launched the spear as the revalkas neared, delaying his throw until the last possible moment, when the creature was almost on top of them and he could smell his rotten breath. The two friends ducked instinctively to avoid being hit by the oncoming beast. They did not witness the spear’s effect as they both dived out of the way and fell heavily to the ground. The Heynai’s weapon flew straight and true. It sped out of Verastus’ hand and towards its target. From the moment it left the Falorian’s fingers, it was travelling at such an unbelievable speed, with supernatural velocity, that it passed straight through the revalkas’ body and continued for some distance.

A gaping hole appeared in the creature’s chest. It was smoking and the edges of it were on fire. Then, a fraction of a second later, the fires spread rapidly outwards to consume their host and one last awful, dreadful scream of horror filled the air. In flames, the revalkas plunged rapidly to the ground and landed with a resounding crash, not far from Ben and Verastus. Moments later, the fires had completely devoured it and it was gone. The fearsome creature from the underworld had been destroyed, killed by a weapon and blade coated in the spirit’s own fire. However, the revalkas’ companions, the graxoth, still remained.

Infuriated by the sudden loss of their powerful leader, they immediately launched a further attack of their own, directed against Ben and Verastus. Before the beasts could reach them though, a booming roar of a different kind echoed in the sky and gained their immediate attention. It came from the east and as they turned their heads they learned to their cost that it was the war cry of a solitary dragon!

Gellsorr, the last surviving dragon on Estia, suddenly burst through the low lying clouds. He swooped down viciously and with astonishing speed to fall on the graxoth before they had chance to gain the height they needed to respond. The wizard’s creatures were completely helpless, unable to defend themselves from such a swift and unexpected attack. The great dragon despatched the first of the beasts with his fire, incinerating it in only a few seconds. Then, in the same dive, he fell upon the second beast and sank his claws deep into his shoulders, pushing him down onto the solid ground below with his momentum. He fell onto the graxoth with such force and weight that the creature’s spine was broken and he was killed outright.

Ben breathed a massive sigh of relief. When he had eventually stopped shaking and recovered himself, he strode over to Verastus to check on his welfare, placing a hand on his shoulder with great difficulty, given the height difference. “Yeah! Whooaa!!! Ha ha… Thanks, big man. You were awesome!”

Verastus was completely calm. He laughed a little, amused by Ben’s compliment. “You did well yourself, Ben. Though, you were very foolish to follow me, and you might have been hurt,” he replied.

Ben nodded once in agreement. Then he ran over to Gellsorr. He stared down at the grizzly sight of the slain graxoth at his feet, before dismissing it in an instant and looking up to speak to the dragon. Something was bugging him. He had a question which needed an answer and, in true Ben style, despite what had just occurred, he wasn’t about to let it drop.

“Err… I s’pose I’d better thank you as well, Gellsorr? Thanks mate. That was out of this world! Ha ha… Out of this world? No? Okay, thanks anyway. But, where the hell have you been??!! What took you so long? We nearly died!”

By this time, Verastus and Brraall had gathered around to hear the explanation, for everyone was wondering the same thing. The remaining warriors were seeing to their dead and wounded. Gellsorr looked severely embarrassed, which was a very great thing, because it is usually incredibly hard to discern a dragon’s true feelings!

“Srr… I… I can only apologise to you all. I… I thought we were safe. I thought you were resting, that we had placed enough distance between us and our enemy, that I too could take the opportunity for some respite.”

“Resting?” replied Ben. “That’s where you were while we were fighting, having a nap? I’ve heard everything now! Gellsorr, you’ve been asleep for hundreds of years for Pete’s sake. The last thing you need is more sleep,” he said, half joking, but still a little upset at just how close they had come to being wiped out because of the dragon’s disappearance.

Gellsorr knew the young boy was only teasing, but he still felt like he needed to explain. “Yes, I know. You are right, Ben. However, you must understand that this body, these muscles, have not seen action in all that time. They have suffered from inactivity and they have grown weak. I have been in almost continual flight since the battle at Dassilliak, I needed to…”

“Ha ha ha…”

Ben suddenly burst into one almighty fit of spontaneous laughter, to the amazement of his friends. He was in hysterics and he really couldn’t stop himself. Eventually, the others began to laugh too, responding to his incredible delight more out of relief than anything else, for no one knew for certain the source of the joke.

Finally, Ben squeezed out an explanation of sorts between giggles. “…trust us to find the only dragon in history with gym fatigue! Ha ha… Now then, that I can understand, Gellsorr. Don’t worry yourself about it, we all have our off days. That’s a very human reaction actually, and it’s one which will draw no Mickey taking from me. Everyone, apart from Jake that is, needs a little breather every now and then… Ha ha ha…”

* * *

In the royal chambers at the palace of Dassilliak, one of the very few buildings undamaged by King Vantrax’ onslaught, his chief adversary and brother, King Artrex, was finally coming round from the coma induced by the wounds he had received in the battle. The leader of the Ruddite Rebellion had lost a lot of blood. His arm had very nearly been severed and he had come perilously close to death. He was still very groggy and incredibly weak, and if that were not bad enough, at the moment of his waking his eyesight and mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. Everything around him was blurred and what’s more, he actually felt as if he were floating in mid air!

In the bleariness, he could just make out the dark figure of a knight towering over him, though he could not discern who it was no matter how hard he tried. “Zephany, is that you?” he whispered faintly, his voice low as he struggled to speak.

An immediate surge of excruciating pain shot through his injured arm as a rough and coarse hand was clasped tightly across his mouth. The urgency of the action could not be mistaken. Artrex could not move a muscle despite his discomfort. He lay still, imprisoned and pinned down for several minutes by the unknown stranger, unaware of his identity or intent. His mind began awakening slowly and it returned to recent events, as he waited anxiously and helplessly to learn his fate. He pictured the battle of Dassilliak in his thoughts, the wounds he received there and his daughter’s astonishing bravery, along with the courageous exploits of Lord Castrad and the rest of the warriors from the rebellion, as well as those of the soldiers from the Estian Alliance. The charge of the Estians had saved his life for certain, just when all had seemed lost. But, he could remember absolutely nothing after that point.

Gradually, the King’s eyesight began to clear. However, the firm hand of the unknown warrior remained fixed firmly across his lips. Artrex stared at the figure above. Slowly, his vision returned fully and the mysterious knight’s identity was revealed.

“Knesh!” the King hissed as best he could through the warrior’s fingers. His heart leapt and skipped a beat at the same time. He could not believe what he was seeing. His best friend and Gerada was dead. And yet, here he was, as clear as anything, holding him down?

Artrex flicked his eyes upwards. The ceiling above him was barely a foot away from his face, though the dark shadow cast all around them told him that they were in the corner of the room, as far away from the candlelight as they could be. Once he realised that the darkness was deliberately intended to conceal their presence, he began to understand why he had felt as if he was floating. He was!

The King nodded gently to his old friend, letting him know in the only way he could that he understood what was happening, and had at last regained his senses. Knesh released his hand very slowly. He placed a finger to his lips, instructing the King not to make a sound. Artrex looked down, sensing extreme danger all of a sudden. Beneath them, not twelve feet away but completely oblivious to their presence, was a party of three formidable Thargw warriors. The terrifying beasts were busy dressing themselves in their armour, preparing for battle, or about to leave on some patrol.

The two old friends and rebels were both experienced combatants. They remained as quiet as possible as they waited patiently for the Thargws to leave. Artrex stared disbelievingly at the image before him, at the chiselled features of the loyal companion who had sacrificed so much so that he might live, to continue the fight against King Vantrax and restore the stones. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek.

The door eventually slammed shut as the last of the Thargws left the room. Knesh then lowered his hands and Artrex’ body immediately began to fall very slowly, until it finally rested once again on the bed.

“What is happening?” began the King.

Knesh placed a finger to his lips once more. He rushed to the door and placed his ear against it, listening for any sign of activity on the other side of the wood. Then, he placed his head right through it, right up to and past his shoulders. He searched the corridor outside with his eyes. Once he was certain that they were alone and would not be disturbed, Knesh retracted his head and returned to the astonished King.

“Ra! That is some trick!” stated Artrex, now feeling a little stronger. “It would have been handy when you were alive?”

Knesh laughed gently. “Yes sire, I suppose it would. It is good to see you again in this life. I thought you were too badly wounded, too far gone to save. We all hoped you would pull through, but we did not believe it, all except for Tien and Zephany, they never gave up.”

“Tien? He saved me?”

“Yes.”

“Krr… Zephany? How is she?”

“She is well sire, for the present,” replied Knesh.

Artrex knew immediately that there was more behind his friend’s guarded reply. “Go on. I am sensing somehow that things have not gone well for us?”

“No. And yes, my King. The Battle of Dassilliak was lost. Our people have fled. They are being hunted by a powerful force of darkness. But, we are stronger now and we gain in strength with every day that passes. We are no longer alone. We have an ally in the Estian Alliance. Your daughter now leads them.”

“Zephany? She does?” replied King Artrex, amazed. He smiled proudly, a smile which betrayed to Knesh that he always knew she would achieve great things. He nodded his head a little with satisfaction. “…And you, my old friend? How is this…?”

“Possible? There will hopefully be a time for explanations. It is not now. In death, I serve the Heynai, but I also serve you still. The very moment you feel that you are able to move, we must leave.”

“Yes, but go where?”

“I must take you away from here, out of this city. I have to get you to somewhere you will be safe. Then, we have to find some way of joining with the others, at Te’oull,” stated Knesh.

Artrex looked surprised. “Te’oull? In Siatol?”

“Yes sire. That is the place, the battleground on which will be fought the last encounter in the war of wars, spoken of in all our legends and tales. Though we did not realise it, my friend, we have been fighting it all along. It is here. It is upon us! The final conflict will be there, at that city. We know that now. The ancient battle between good and evil which has claimed so many lives and consumed this great land of ours, is yours and mine to wage. It will be won or lost not in our realm, not in Rhuaddan, but at Te’oull. Ironic, is it not? The prophecies handed down to us are all coming true!”

Artrex was filled with a sense of destiny as he listened to his great friend. His chest swelled and his eyes narrowed. “Yes Knesh, and we will play our part! We must go,” stated the King, resolutely.

He tried his best to move but he could not. His arm was wracked with pain and the slightest movement sent his head into a spin. He was shocked, embarrassed, frustrated. “I… I am sorry, I cannot move!” he cried.

“No sire, your wounds are too severe. You have been revived early with the help of the spirits, but your body cannot cope with the demands being asked of it. Your strength will return to you in a day or so. For the moment, we are going nowhere. Rest, my King. Sleep, and let Tien’s magic do its work. You are destined to play an important part in this war yet. You will have your place in history, I swear it. It is written. You must rejoin the Keeper, or all will surely be lost!”