Liriel’s form was sliding through the forest like the trees weren’t even there. Her agile steps easily avoiding the treacherous vines and fallen branches; her sword on hand cutting a clear path through the thickest of the bushes. She felt invigorated. It was like her strength was not diminishing as she darted forward but renewing. With a last small jump she exited the thick embrace of the woods and found herself in a vast plain.
About 'The soul of Charoden'
A fantasy, adventure web-novel
Saturday 18 October 2008
Chapter VI, Part 1: Separation
Liriel’s form was sliding through the forest like the trees weren’t even there. Her agile steps easily avoiding the treacherous vines and fallen branches; her sword on hand cutting a clear path through the thickest of the bushes. She felt invigorated. It was like her strength was not diminishing as she darted forward but renewing. With a last small jump she exited the thick embrace of the woods and found herself in a vast plain.
Monday 13 October 2008
Chapter V: The will of a runner
Chapter IV part 2:
Chapter IV, Part 1: Pawns of destiny
Wednesday 8 October 2008
Chapter III, part 2:
The two hooded figures were running in the darkness protected underneath the night’s veil and their dark cloaks.
Tears were running freely from Liriel’s eyes as she remembered Raymond’s parting words.
“You will leave when the moon starts to rise today, this is an order.”
“But this is unfair. I am one of the best soldiers for my age. I will fight and honor the name of Charoden.”
“There is no honor in dying child.”
“How dare you say those words? You sound like a traitor. That is our way. We fight; we don’t run away like children and cowards.”
“NO ONE IS ASKING YOU TO COWER, FOOL. What we demand of you is to honor your blood. Fight the most difficult battle you can give. We ask of you to manage to stay alive, so as to rebuild what we will lose. We ask of you to create wonders through dirt, to light up fires with wet wood.”
“You are asking me too much. You are asking me to turn my back in the perishing of our ways. I will have it not. I will fight, and if the gods wish it, I shall remain alive.”
“Forget the gods. Seven thousand years ago, it was not them that preserved what we have now.”
“Seven…?”
“Yes, seven. Not all history is taught in the schools. We have faced extinction again. It was the elder then that cultivated this plan. Then it worked. Then over one hundred of the most promising children were sent away in hiding. It took them hundred of years to rebuild the clan. It took them hundred of years to reunite. But they fought this battle. Many generations fought with their extinction, fought in the darkness of being clanless to the outside world. But they preserved. And when they were stronger, they came here and rebuild what was rightfully theirs.”
“So… I’m not the only one?”
“Of course not. Our youngest mages have already left with all our books. All of our history is being sent away in unknown, even to me, towers. From you, we ask the most serious duty of all. Protect Jacob. I can only trust you, to have enough strength to protect such a weak man.”
“Jacob?”
“Yes, he is being tasked with carrying the sword to its haven. Towards the
“JACOB CARRIES THE SWORD? This is an insult on its own.”
“Foolish child… Who will ever suspect that such a weakling is a Charodian? It is cruel of us to ask him to use his weakness, but we know, that regardless of his physic, his heart belongs to Charoden.”
“Father… Please let me fight alongside you, under the banner of Charoden. It’s the only thing that I wished…”
“Go my daughter. As long as this banner you speak of stays in your heart, I shall always fight alongside you …”
It was the tear filled eyes of her father that have convinced her to go. General Raymond. She had to let the world know that her father could weep.
“Liriel!” The anxious voice behind her brought her back to reality.
As she turned she saw that Jacob was almost exhausted by their running. Regardless, he had never complained about their pace. Three days since they left and he had never asked to rest. Liriel agreed with her father on this. Yes, he may be weak, but his heart was pure Charodian.
Jacob was pointing somewhere in the sky, towards the darkness behind them.
“Oh gods… Run Jacob, run, he has already seen us…” Liriel cried.
The dragon was racing fast towards them. They couldn’t hope to outrun him. But maybe they could make it till the mountains that were just visible in the distance. They were caves there, they could hide, caves that this small dragon couldn’t enter.
It was hopeless, but it was their best shot. She had a slender sword with her, a weapon much less intimidating than her usual, but no armor or shield with her. The elder was adamant that she carried a more feminine weapon, so as not to betray her origin. The armor and shield were out of the question of course…
Liriel stumbled in the darkness. She felt like she was flying for a second, but in the end, she landed hard on the ground. As she turned, she saw the massive jaws of the dragon open, ready to spew out their deadly fires.
Her gaze drifted to Jacob. He was standing, out of breath, next to her. He looked too beat up to summon enough strength to continue his running.
A whisper escaped her mouth. “Sorry father… I have failed.” And with that she raised her hands in a vain attempt to protect her face, much like Jacob was doing, as the deadly flames were coming towards them.
The moment the first flicks of fire reached her arms, she felt the ground beneath her body give way. It was like she was falling from a well. In the distance above her, she could she the hole that she had fallen through continuously becoming smaller and smaller, until the faint light of the night sky was barely visible.
Liriel closed her eyes as she though ‘So this is what death feels like…’ The sudden stop shook her so badly that she stopped breathing, and then she fainted.
When she woke up, she was feeling like hell. Her whole body was aching. Her back was like someone had beaten it with a club. But all those were faint in comparison to the searing pain of her arm.
“This burning looks awful. It would probably take more than a month to fully heal” She heard a gentle voice besides her, speaking.
Sharply she turned her head. She was blinded for a moment as she faced the bright sun, but it was nothing compared to her shock as she was watching Jacob brewing an, awfully smelling, paste.
Slowly she looked around her in disbelief. She was lying on some rich, green fields, some mountains were just visible in the distance, but their shape was nothing like she knew. The sun was raised already towards the middle sky.
“Jacob?” She asked uncertainly. “Where are we?”
Jacob smiled tired. “How should I know… I’m just glad that we survived that dragon.”
“Wha… What happened?”
Now it was Jacob’s eyes to open wide. “What do you mean? I thought that you would know… the elders hardly told me anything before this journey.”
After a while, they concluded that for some reason the ground beneath their feet gave way. Jacob was not too sure of what happened next, except that they seemed to come out the other way of the hole they fell in, and appeared here. But the hole that they came out seemed to have vanished…
Jacob continued to brew a crude salve for Liriel’s burning as he ended his explanations.
“Maybe it is an unknown ability of the sword…” He sighted.
“Then we need to find someone that can tell us what those abilities are.” Liriel said as she silently blessed Jacob for his salve. It was already feeling at least refreshing on her skin.
“Well, I guess we first have to find out where we are and how we can get to Elemir.” Jacob held inside his fears. After all, he wasn’t going to be the one to tell Liriel that her hood had fallen from her face before they fell through the hole. He just wished that the Dragonrider didn’t have the chance to see her face, else they were almost certainly doomed…
Chapter III, part 1: When the mighty fall.
“Four days…” Razin whispered to the thick smoke. “We have lasted only for four days…”
He knew that they were doomed from the beginning. But he hoped that he could have given the younger ones some more time.
They had no way of succeeding through a direct confrontation, and so they have been forced to use skirmish tactics. No one in the world would count today as a defeat, no one than the Charodians that is. For even if they have killed five for each one they lost, tonight they would lose something even more vital.
Razin knew that he didn’t have another choice. Aldair’s plan demanded the exact opposite of what the archmage was about to do. But Aldair didn’t have the dreams that haunted the Count. Dreams that even a fool could distinguish for prophetic.
The Charodian way was to fight. Today it was asked for him to either leave his clan weaponless, or cower in the face of the world’s destruction. He looked at the banner, a silver banner with a brownish mountain. It was like an omen, the clan was there for the earth, not for the sake of themselves.
“Maybe they will succeed in the years to come. They could probably remake it through the sword.” As he looked at the tattered flag beside him, he knew that he was trying to fool himself. It would be near impossible for them to ever reach the knowledge and pureness that was required for this task. For he knew, that to form a pact so deep, something dire would have been required in the past…
Razin was standing on top of the sorcerers’ tower, one of the few buildings that weren’t burning. Down in the ground, the clashes of the swords were audible to all. The screams of death, resounded in his ears as he cast his last spell.
His loud voice was multiplied a hundred times in the night sky, deafening those that they were near, but also making it audible to all that were in the city, and even farther, a voice clear that echoed even above the sounds of the battle.
“Have you accomplished your goal Lermaine? Two hundred thousand of your soldiers have perished already. Three hundred of your dragons will never fly again. And yet, as a savage beast, you continue to send your butchers in. As a mindless ravager you devour the flesh of our children. How many more will you sent? Almost as many as those who have perished remain. But you were fool to kill us…
For five thousand years we stole eggs from the same two mountaintops. You should have wondered why the dragons have allowed us to live. Today, I set them free from their oath.”
And with that, the slim steel staff of the elder burst into flames. A relic old, presumably crafted alongside with the sword of Kaidin, but unknown to all save the elders of the clan. A symbol to mark the covenant between the humans of this land, and the dragons that roamed once free, was reduced to ashes in mere seconds…
The Count hoped; hoped that by this time tomorrow, the dragons wrath would have left nothing left of Charoden. No human would ever be allowed to live here. No building would be left standing. For five thousands years, Charoden has stolen the baby dragons from their mothers. Razin could only wish that in the resulting wrath not a single Lermaine soldier would be left alive. It would be necessary to destroy more than the two thirds of the whole Lermaine army if the world was to have a chance. And the numbers of the soldiers that were currently in the Charodian plains were much more than those…
It was only ten minutes later that the first dragon appeared. Razin stood straight up, unflinching, as the dragon swooped downwards towards him, its eyes blazing red with hatred.
The last elder of the clan smiled knowing that their murderers wouldn’t touch what they sought. He had done his part, now, in his last moments, he could only pray that the young ones had enough determination to rise from their ashes…
Chapter II, part 2:
Count Razin, the archmage and current elder of the Charoden clan, was exactly as a foreigner would have imagined him, and something more. His towering figure was unlike the normal mages, someone that could have been easily mistaken for a retired warrior. Only his slick steel staff and his great white beard betrayed his position. In the small council room, he dominated the scene.
The small beaked eyed man that stood opposite of him was like a bug compared to him. Regardless, his voice was clear and steady, his tone like reading an announcement rather than requesting a deal.
“Clan Lermaine has decided to unite all small clans that are around its borders in one great kingdom. In the name of the great charity that my clan is known for, we shall provide guidance and protection for all those people who are bound to be attacked by foreign forces. All we ask in return is something small, a token of your apprehension for this great act. Something to signify, that the clans joined in this agreement on their own accord, something to show that it is we who protect them.
Already the great falcon of clan Damar flies under the protective wings of our dragon banner. Of course, your clan has a greater history that one must think about. We do not want one of the most ancient flags seem lower than ours. So, we have decided that a simple trinket is enough. We humbly ask for the sword of Kaidin as a return for your protection.”
As the messenger spoke, his eyes slowly rose towards the back of the Count, towards the sword that was hanged by the wall. The light in the room wasn’t too much, but the beautiful, gem-encrusted sword, seemed to absorb and multiply it, as if it was a light source of itself. Its blade the most shinning steel, its hilt made of pure gold, the sword was considered a masterpiece of art, its slightly magical aura paled in front of its beauty.
“The sword of Kaidin eh?” The count’s tone was obviously sarcastic. “So it’s either this trinket, as you put it, or our complete genocide?”
The diplomat’s blank stare was enough to convince anyone that they were in the verge of extinction.
“But clan Lermaine should know, messenger, that this sword has two phrases etched in its blade, one older than the other. They say that the newer phrase was written by Charoden himself.”
The elder closed his eyes and started to chant the small passage that every Charodian knew by heart.
‘And as we stand alone in here, our only witness this blade; let it be known to all, that I forfeit my destiny to join yours. Let this blade be the symbol of our unity, for my lethality and your beauty, is equally represented in this sword. Let this blade be the symbol of our children, let them use its light to become one, as we have.’
“Our written history is over five thousands years old, and even then, the sword was already thought as ancient. For all those thousands years of our existence that our ancestors gave to us, they asked nothing back. And now here you come. Demanding that we give to you the blade that they left us? Asking from us to surrender to you their symbol of their union? Thousands of years, messenger, we were grateful to just honor our ancestors for everything that they have given us, for our blood...
This sword that you named a trinket IS Charoden. This blade IS this clan. This masterpiece doesn’t belong to Charodians; it is us that we belong to it. If you want it, you must earn it. Now leave pest. And say this to your master. Charoden will fight, and Charoden will perish. But warn him to make certain that there is not a single Charodian left alive when he finishes, because it would be by his hand that he will die.”
The diplomat was stunned. He wasn’t expecting a small clan to choose death over a sword. Regardless of the history of the sword and its material worth, its magical nature was well known, and it wasn’t something that great. Yet those people were ready to die for it. It was against all sense.
Silence ruled the room when the messenger left. The elder looked at the rest of the people that were in the room. Their firm gazes showed him that he has acted right. Not one of them, or of the rest of his citizens, would have accepted a different answer. Death or honor, cower or fight, regardless how one asked, the Charodian answer would always be the same.
It was Raymond who broke the silence. “So how many of them are here already?”
The head of the sorcerers, until the count retired from his position as elder to reclaim that place, answered. “About seventy thousands soldiers and four hundred dragons so far have teleported. They are just outside the anti-teleportation field that protects the city, about two days travel by foot.”
Raymond smiled. “At least we will fall gloriously. If Lermaine wants to become an empire she would need a larger army than this for the other large clans. But for now, let’s see how many of them we can squash.”
“Well, that’s a null question isn’t it? Our force is ten thousands blades and fifty dragons, add some dozens of mages, and this is our military force. But shouldn’t the question be, how many will fight? For I count at least forty thousand more civilians that can wield a blade better than those weaklings that come against us.”
“Ha! You underestimate us civilians general”
“ENOUGH” The elder cut them. “They are not stupid enough to come with only seventy thousands. I reckon that by tomorrow morning, we will have to face more than three hundred thousand soldiers. What I say stands. We are fighting the largest clan that there is currently out there. We cannot hope to survive. As our dear general has said, we can at least fall gloriously. That is to die to their eyes. Tonight we will start the necessary preparations to repeat Aldair’s plan. It is our only hope.”
The Aldair’s plan… Gazes fell down at the mention. Realization struck them. They couldn’t hope to win, but there was always pray to survive. It has worked in the past. But no one wanted to put his children through the centuries that have followed since then… no one could think of a better alternative either…