Chapter 13: Stella's Night
Stella, spluttering, trudged into view the next morning after a long sleep. The sun was just rising, and she was utterly exhausted, even though she had just been sleeping. Staring at Darq's rotting corpse on the ground, she sighed, closing her eyes, and wept for him once more.
Her eyes were sore from crying, and they stung in the sandy wind that blew from the camp. She worried for herself, and she worried for Ajira. She wondered if the Ashkhan had already told her the bad news. Stella hoped that she wasn't taking it too hard.
"I failed," she whispered sorrowfully. "We were given a mission, and we failed. Oh, how will I tell the Elders? O woeful fate! Why did it have to turn out this way? Why?"
She sunk down on the muddy ground, wondering in awe for the first time all night why it was raining. She knew as well as her daughter that rain in these parts was nearly impossible. She sniffed the air curiously. Of course. Stella, being a mage, sensed the slight burning scent of magic. She had realized, just like her daughter, that this was no ordinary storm. This was a magical storm. Stella sniffed the air again, just to be sure. Yes, there was definitely magic afoot. But from who?
She swiped a single tear from her cheek with a brush of her paw. For the first time since she had sat down, Stella noticed how wet she was. The ground had been saturated with wither from the night before, and it was still raining. The ground could not hold anymore water, and rain ran off of the ground in small little streams. The little vegetation the area had was limp and soggy from the torrential rains. Stella's robes she had had wrapped around her were muddy, smelly, and soaked through. Estella was tired to the bone. She had to get back to camp, she had to…
Maybe just another short rest…just to wait till the rain stops. Then I'll go down to camp for sure…but now, just a little nap…
Stella lay down in the mud, rain splashing mercilessly against her furry face, and went back to sleep.
Stella was in a vast room. She looked around in awe. The walls were a deep, deep, red—almost the color of blood. The ceiling was bare, save a candelabra hanging from a chain. The floor was covered in a lush carpet of moss, and giant tapestries hung from the walls in every direction.
A figure floated toward her. No feet or legs were visible, and an elaborate robe shrouded the rest of the body. A hood was pulled low over the figure's face.
Suddenly, it spoke in a low, reverberating tone, unlike any Stella had ever heard…except for one. But no, it certainly couldn't be…
"Soooooo…My servant has failed me." He looked down menacingly at Stella, who was laying on the floor. The figure's face was still cloaked by the darkness.
"Althar..." whispered Estella slowly, sitting up. "Is it really you?"
"Indeed, it is I, Althar, God of the Magical Arts. You should know, mage. All students in the Tower of Sorcery are servants to me. You should know this, mage!"
Stella sighed in awe. She had long worshipped and idolized Althar. He was the god she had learned of long ago, when she had been accepted into his service at the Tower of Sorcery. She remembered the day…it was so long ago, nearly 20 years, and yet Stella still recalled it as if it was yesterday. The day she had started her training as a mage under the High God Althar…
"Stella…" said Althar condescendingly. "I gave you a mission. You may not have been aware, but I gave you a mission the day you started your training."
"You had dreamed of this mission many times before, not knowing that it was assigned by me. Your mission was, as I hope you are aware, to one day have a child—"
"And I did! What else is there to do?"
"You were to protect her! Protect her, help her grow, bide by the prophecy and prepare her for her destiny! Does this sound at all familiar to you!"
"I tried, Master. I am sorry I have failed—"
"I do not want excuses! Because of you, your daughter is being trained under some idiot named Kark! He is a fake and a liar! All Ashlanders are."
"You lie," gasped Stella, panting. "Those Ashlanders are our friends!"
"Friends that kidnap you, burn your home, and send you and your husband off on some wild goose chase! What kind of friends are those?"
"I'm sorry!"
"You must be punished!..."
Stella woke with a start in the middle of the plains, gasping. She held a hand to her heart. "Althar…" she whispered, and slumped over.