Chapter Nineteen: Crescent Lake

Angrily, the thief smashed his boot into his bed, disturbing the dust that plumed into great hazy clouds, making him cough. Shaking his head in a disgusted manner, he opened the curtains, made out of some lacy material that had not been opened in years. More dust erupted into the air.

Lacy. He remembered Lacee, the young Consul of Provoka, and unconsciously, his hand went towards his sword, her gift- almost as good as her kiss. It seemed so long ago, Jakk thought, as he stared at the window, looking toward the expanse of city.

The view he had was spectacular, and it showed the beauty of Crescent Lake. City of the Magi. He opened the window, and looked out, watching the sea gulls soar gracefully in the air. Under those birds were people of all kinds: elves, dwarves, men, and most of all, mazes. Merchants, peddlers, and hawkers displayed plenty of the world's goods in awnings and shops on both sides of the wide plaza. The creations of the Friends all congregating in a cosmopolitan center surrounded by a lake.

He sighed, looking out at the stone tiled square, the main center of commerce and talk of Crescent Lake. It was late morn, and already people bustled buying goods from hawkers, as peddlers sat beneath their wagons and carts, displaying wares, and as shopkeepers invited citizens to their shops.

The cries of sea gulls added a new noise to the din of the city, and the birds cycled the massive fountain in the center. People stopped to gap in amazement as water gushed merrily, and Jakk still felt a small tinge of shock at these people just watching the water flow. In the city surrounded by the sands of the Sind, he had learned to take care of the precious substance. Not here.

It was the people who interested him the most. Beings he had never seen before together, only told in old tales, were suddenly before him, very much alive. Elves and dwarves, their appearances sharply contrasting each other, crossed paths in the wide streets without any thought of differences. Human, who, outside of the city, would never have thought elves and dwarves existed, walked through the throngs without surprise. It was a city out of the First Age, when all of the Tari's creations were not so isolated.

The sight of many mages, however, made Jakk scowl. Unlike most nations, who mistrusted magi and banished them as a thing of the past, Crescent Lake's age made it an attractive refuge for magic-wielders, for like all things of the past, they were tolerated. The wide, crimson hats of Red Mages bobbed courteously to white cloaked healers, as yellow hatted blacks sauntered through the many mage shops; their faces were not as hidden as Bane's.

Bane.

The half elf, still mysterious and taciturn as always, but now, a malice had filled those yellow glowing eyes.

It had happened when the five of them- Klad, Jakk, Aki, Bane, and Sara- were sailing to Crescent Lake, on the stoutest ship the Elf Prince could find, an Elven cruiser-the Kasimo. The journey had not gone smoothly, as the rough, wild, south seas tossed the man-o-war around like a toy boat, and the winds and rain dashed themselves on the ship. It was nothing compared to the calm of the North Aldi Seas, where the deadened silence of the ocean made maneuvering a ship impossible without oars. Jakk, never experiencing the lurching of his stomach as it had then, spent most of his time over the ship's bridge, holding onto the railing tight and turning green.

He had not even gone into Klad's cabin. And why in the name of the Tari would he want to steal the knight's sword for?

But it was gone.

The thief had only known about it when Elles had informed the crew that there was a thief among them. Jakk thought he was stating the obvious, but he realized that his attire marked him not as a thief, but of a lord, dressed in a high collared, blue coat of Elven cut, with good leather boots that snugly fitted his feet. No, he was still a lord here.

Like everyone else, he blinked in surprise when the Prince had said the sword was gone, and for it to be found and returned immediately.

Jakk had been talking to Sara when Elles had said it, and the two walked away, he, making small jokes, and her, giving him a worried glance. Sitting at a small table in his cabin, she looked at him with concern, and his grin had soon melted into a puzzled expression.

"What is it?" he had asked her.

She frowned. "Who would want to steal Ryar's sword. And for what purpose?" She frowned into her cup of tea, absentmindedly stirring the contents around. Jakk had never seen her so trouble. He hesitated to ask, but curiosity pushed him.

"Why are you so worried?"

The Princess smiled, as if reminiscing. "Ryar Haasions is more than just a knight of the King's Own. He's the closest thing to a brother I can have. When I used to go out to play in the gardens and forests near Coneria, he would come with me as both a friend and protector. I hated servants, or any adults in general. He was solemn then, as now, but always a big brother towards me, and I, a sister. He had no family of his own."

Jakk's throat went dry.

"He was an orphan?" That makes three...me, Aki, Klad...

Sara nodded. "They said his father was betrayed and fell into an ambush of imps in the Dark Forest. By who...no one knows. His mother was already dead." A grim look, one he had never seen before, filled her face, as she stared at the table. "The sword he carries...carried...was stained with his father's blood when he was found dead with it."

Silence filled the room. Sara pushed her tea around without any thought. "Just tell me Jakk...tell me you didn't steal it."

Jakk snorted. "Of course not; I'm not just a simple thie- he stopped. Of course he was! Even the Princesses knew that. But why would he steal it?

He put his hands on hers, giving an reassuring smile. "You know I didn't," he said, quietly.

She smiled back, but without the same reassurance.

"I guess I do." Sara stood, opening the door. The mage had been there, staring at him as if no door had existed. "Until next time, Jakk," Sara said, and then politely nodded to Bane. He returned it, and walked away, still looking at him, a small flash of steel showing from his sleeve. Jakk knew it was meant for him to see.

It was how it began.

And then everything seemed to turn for the worse. Bane's taunts, both with his eyes and mouth. It seemed like he was sure that the thief had stolen the sword, simply because he was a thief. Klad was quietly resigned as usual. Sara and Aki ignored him.

Aki was the oddest of all. Her whole demeanor had changed since Elfland, and the observant, wise, village healer behaved more like a bar maid, openly flirting with sailors and dressing more like a queen than healer. Her cloak was replaced by dresses of Elven style, tight so her...chest was shown better. She moved like a snake through the ship, ignoring the lurchings made by the angry sea.

It was no different when they entered Crescent Lake. After the Kasimo was gone, Master Luhkan had greeted them, his face even more ancient than when Jakk had first met him. It was his wish that they rested before he would speak to them, and so Jakk found himself here, in the Mayor's House. Waiting.

Here, Elles had said before he left, your real journey begins.

Behind him, a hand clasped his shoulder. He gasped, looking back, hand going for rapier. A woman, face covered by a veil, stood. Those eyes were beautiful, a dark, earth brown color, wide and innocent.

But she spoke without any innocence. "You would not strike a lady, would you, Skyaar?" She said his name as if was something useless, garbage thrown into the gutter.

He gulped. "No. I wouldn't." She smiled, and her lips were two flower petals pressed together sweetly. She stripped off a gloved hand.

Jakk started. There was only bone. Flesh filtered through bone, and the hand became human again, but Jakk screamed, jumping back and knocking over the table.

The woman stood there. "They hate you Jakk. You know it. The mages care nothing for you. The Conerians, the knight and princess..." She smiled. "Well, come. I will show you what is hidden behind their courtesy, hidden behind this...so-called quest."

She took his arm, and suddenly they were in the clouds, fluffy apparitions disappearing and reappearing in the backdrop of blue sky. They flew, and as the clouds disappeared, Tranmankand stood, its proud towers and walls defending against sand and...an army.

Hundreds of tents and banners fluttered in the dry wind, and men, thousands, knights with cloaks fluttering like banners, and archers oiling their bowstrings. On each tent, banner, and cloak, the symbol borne was the crescent moon and stars. Coneria.

With a roar, men charged, and the whine of a thousand arrows struck, drowning the cry of the Tranmankand City Guard. The shafts struck, piercing wall, shields, and flesh. A weaker volley came down from the walls, accompanied by a cry. "Lakura et dal! Taakan Lakura et dal!" The only Elven words Jakk knew. For the honor of the City under the Sun.

Ladders scaled the high walls, and men, like ants, climbed, fighting doggedly against the fatigued guards.

Jakk tore his sight from the bird's eye view of the scene, to the woman. "You see? Coneria attacks your city." She laughed harshly. "There is no honor in that. You are just a minion, a scapegoat for blame on this quest. Nothing more."

"No. No, it can't be. This cannot be." Tranmankand. His home. The only place he could call home.

"No..."

He was back in his room. The woman was still there. Smiling. Patient. "Before I go, check the white witch's room...you may find all your troubles there."

She turned to leave, but Jakk shouted a question. "Who are you?"

The lady responded without turning around.

"I am known as Lich, Fiend of the Earth."

Jakk screamed.

A sweat broke out on his brow as he woke.

Good, he thought, good. It was a dream. Something was burning on his chest.

The orb. He tore his shirt open, and there it was...earth colored, glowing, and hot, lava and mud swirling together.

No. It wasn't real.

He staggered out of the room, into the hallway. At the end of it, Aki's room. He felt his feet moving towards it, his hands pushing the door aside, his mind going towards the closet. And there it was. Klad's sword. What was going on? That dream...

"So you did do it," growled a voice.

Jakk turned around, sword in hand.

Bane.

"An army, sire," Bes'tan paused, images of death and destruction coming back into mind.

The King had commanded him to tell his story, all of if, and now it was well past midnight. The Commander had started from the beginning, when the King's Own had looked for a young man, a Light Warrior, in Tranmankand. It ended with the coming of the Conerian Army, and Bes'tan's flight from his city.

He looked down at his sand ravaged gauntlets, waiting as the King mused over the whole situation, and Bes'tan then saw a man, troubled and bent with worry.

"I profess that I wish all of this would have come when age had not yet withered me," Lyr said to the sun-burnt man, "But we do what we have to with the time we are given."

Suddenly, he slammed his hand on the table, slopping wine and startling the Tranmankander. "Blast! It was my own fault that I did not send scouts to the north. This cannot stand. Amlador and Tekam, ruin their kingdoms might be, is behind this." Bes'tan nodded his head in agreement. "But I am one of the few who do believe it, sire. Many cry for vengeance against Coneria, and the Three Lords of Tranmankand..." he trailed off.

Lyr nodded his head and stood up.

"Sire..." Bes'tan, startled, and Lyr, so lost in his own thoughts, finally realized he was there.

"This is a beginning to the evil, Commander. I can only hope to stop some here, by breaking the siege. Come. A new day awaits, and we have yet to make our first move."