Chapter 3

He remained conscious but could not see or think clearly. Everything was a shocking blur. He tried to move several times, he thought, yet somehow thy attempts came to nothing.

"What is the meaning of this?" He thought he heard Phenrig say as someone dragged him up a flight of stairs.

"He was trying to run away. Seems your pet wasn't as tame as you led us to believe." Thralsai's raspy voice muttered.

"Hold your tongue, dark elven worm!" Someone else declared, probably Lorenzo. Sareth tried to clear his eye and looked around but all he could vaguely make out were a dozen or two shapes standing in a circle around him.

"He's here now and the time is right, isn't that all that matters?" He heard Thralsai say. "Now are we going to argue or are we going to get on with this?"

Blinking, Sareth managed to banish some of the fog from his mind.

The shapes solidified and glanced around, he was met by a sight of unspeakable horror.

Many of the guests Phenrig had welcomed into his house stood there, each of them holding one of the manor's servants in their grasp. The maids were weeping uncontrollably and one of the butlers had wet himself.

Knives were pressed against their throats, holding them still.

Even Douglas was holding a woman, an eager grin on his face, his knife pressed against her throat.

Sareth had been brought to the upstairs rooms where he had never been allowed to set foot before and now he could see why. The walls…they were covered in dark stains, the old dried remains of spilt blood. The ceiling and floor were engraved with markings, carved by a knife and bathed in blood.

Ceremonial fires burned in each corner, each filling the room with a thick smell of incense.

"I would have preferred this historic moment to be more civil, but so be it." Sareth whirled around, sighting his own master. Phenrig stood before a wooden stand upon which a large tome sat, open to the middle. Menelag stood to his left, holding a bow of herbs that were quietly smouldering with a different fragrance than the fires.

The boy tried to scramble to his feet but his head swam and he collapsed back to his knees.

"The time is right, let the chosen be surrounded by blood!" Phenrig commanded, gesturing wildly forward.

"No!" Sareth cried out but the guests ignored him as a one they cut the throats of their hostages, blood spurting off like fountains to coat the floor in red. As scarlet droplets scattered across Sareth's, he recoiled from this horror only to be shoved back into the centre of the ring by Thralsai.

Phenrig turned to the book as the blood of his sacrificed servants began to flow, pouring into the carved groves on the floor forming an arcane circle around Sareth.

He began speaking rapidly, talking in a strange language Sareth had never heard before.

It was a low, quick rasping language that sounded more natural if it were to come from the mouth of a snake.

Those gathered around the boy negligently tossed the bodies they were holding away and with their hands still stained in blood they descended each to one knees and began chanting in pray.

"Krwa le Urgash, wala hisraah." That one phrase over and over ago began echoing throughout the room.

That name… that terrible name… Urgash, the unspeakable thing, the dragon of chaos the source of all evil.

There were only two circumstances were people muttered the name Urgash, in fear… or in ceremonies. Dark ceremonies …

Demon Rites.

Sareth began to feel cold. It was not the cold of the night thought but rather an in piercing coldness that seeped past flesh to the very soul.

"Awaken!" Phenrig declared suddenly, throwing his arms wide.

There was a sudden surge and instantly the ring of blood seemed to be on fire, burning intently yet there was no heat. Highlighted by the flickering embers, Sareth began to breathe hard, all strength from his lugs seeming to drain away.

He was feeling sick and the horrible sensation only grew worse and worse with each passing moment. It was more than just the sight and smell of the blood around him, it was something far worse and for the first time Sareth knew the how tight fear could grip at a man's soul.

Clutching at his chest, he doubled over.

"Xana, it is time." He heard Phenrig say and glancing up, he saw that standing before him as the spirit who had been bound to be his guardian. Her face was utterly emotionless, as if she had willed all feeling down and locked it inside herself. "We have done what was intended of us… the rest if your task." The wizard commanded. "Now, tear out the human soul!"

Slowly, Xana knelt down and laid a hand softly on his shoulder. Her touch felt like a hook, sinking itself into the essence that was his very self.

"Xana…" He breathed to her, his no more than a whisper. "Please help me…."

Her face twitched as some of her iron clad control slipped.

"I… I have to." She replied but her tone did not reflect the sentiment.

"Please…" He begged again, the cold reaching so deep into his very being he felt every part of his being going numb.

Xana looked at him once and then snarling, she withdrew her hand and whirled around to face Phenrig.

"What do you think you're doing?" The wizard demanded of her angrily.

"I won't do it!" She told him. "I won't!"

"You won't…" Phenrig sounded stunned. That past and then the anger reasserted itself. "You won't?! You cast your defiance as us NOW?! Of all times? Need I summon the visage of the Master to reprimand you?"

Without warning, Menelag dropped the bowl he was holding and lashed out; kicking Phenrig aside from the old book.

With a single command of magic, the fire ragging across the blood dissipated and the smoke filling the room began to ebb.

"Traitors!" Thralsai hissed, drawing his sword. "We are surrounded by traitors!"

Xana looked up at the elderly wizard in surprise.

"If you care for them, then sustain him!" Menelag told her. "Get him outside! Quickly!" He turned and with a gesture, cast a bolt of crackling lightning at the ritual participants.

Phenrig struggled to his feet and with a scream of inhuman rage, he threw himself at Menelag as he draw a dagger out from his robes.

Sareth didn't stay to watch them fight. The ritual had been interrupted and the coldness was gone. With a speed that surprised even him, he bolted from his crouched spot on the floor and towards the door that lead down a flight of steps.

The blood was seeping out from underneath the door and down the steps, dripping down like a crimson waterfall.

Several of the cultists tried to stop him but he shoved them forward as he ran and together they tumbled down the stairs and Sareth, already in an unhinged state of mind, saw himself suddenly coated in blood.

Panic gripped him and irrationally he ran down the hallways and finding the first window he could, he hurled himself through it.

"Sareth, no!" Xana's voice echoed his in head far too late. He was already in the air, falling with a show of glass until he landed with a loud painful thud on the slopping roof just above the manor's main entranceway. Several shards of glass stuck in him but he ignored them. He rolled unceremoniously down until he toppled off the edge.

The ledge had broken his fall and the drop from the ledge to the ground was not far but it still knocked the breath out of him.

"Quickly, over here!" Sareth looked up.

Leanna, Menelag's niece, was there on horseback. She galloped her mount forward and wheeled around, grabbing Sareth by the arm and pulling him behind her in the saddle.

"Hold on tight, they're after us!" She told him, snapping at the reins and directing the horse down towards the old gatehouse. The horse whinnied loudly and began to run.

Sareth looked back as Thralsai and his dark elves burst out the entrance, followed quickly by Andreas and his imperial men.

"They're getting away!" Thralsai declared, jabbing a finger at the fleeing horse.

Leanna's horse already had them out the gate before their pursuers could reach their own mounts. Galloping as fast as it could, the horse ran through the early morning darkness and eventually the thundering sound of pursuit began to echo behind them.

"Uncle, are you there?" Leanna began, placing her hand on the front of her brow while struggling to keep the other hand on the reins. "Are you alright?" She was silent for a moment. "Good, I understand. I'll see you at the camp."

Then she looked back at Sareth.

"Are you hurt?" She asked.

Sareth had had time to gather his wits, although it was taking a great deal of self control not to vomit on the spot.

He pulled a piece of glass out of his side, grunting loudly.

"I'll live." He remarked, holding onto her tight so he didn't fall off. Right now he was suffering far more from mental and spiritual blows than anything physical.

"We'll talk later, I promise." Leanna remarked. "But now we have to loose…"

A bolt shot overhead, narrowly missing them by only a foot. The Dark Elves were right behind them; Thralsai in the lead as one of his elves was busy reloading a crossbow.

Leanna tugged on the reigns of her horse and pulled them off the road, darting through the undergrowth as if she hoped to loose them amongst the brush. The dark elves followed without hesitation.

Sareth's attention however was fixed on the figure riding just behind them. It was Phenrig, his master, who had betrayed him. An expression of intense loathing and hate was etched into his features and in that stark moment Sareth realized he was seeing his master as he truly was.

It was as if a veil had been lifted from his sight and he stared upon the ugly truth.

Menelag had not kept the wizard long before affecting his own escape and now he was in pursuit of his fleeing protégé.

"You will not leave boy, I will not permit it!" He raised his hand and instantly he body was surrounded by a powerful golden glow as he focused his mana. Sareth recognised the spell that was being cast and acting on instinct he swung around in the saddle and raised his own arms to ward it off.

The incantation that Phenrig cast at him was an Eldritch Arrow, a focus burst of magic forged into the form of a spear and then cast. It was an effective elemental spell and Sareth was able to slap it aside, erecting a barrier behind them with a shimmer of light that knocked the magic arrow up harmlessly into the sky.

"We'll be safe I we can make it between those two rocks!" Leanna declared and looking back, Sareth saw that stretching over a natural pass were two large boulders, one half fallen to rest against the other.

"They'll just follow us!" Sareth called out.

"They can try." The girl shouted back. "Trust me. Just keep their projectiles off us until we pass through."

Given his lack of options and anxious fear, Sareth complied and hardened the barrier he was maintaining as Phenrig zealously cast bolts of magic after them. He could do nothing about the Dark elves and their bolts however, that problem had to be solved by Leanna's horse riding skills.

With the wind whipping past them, their horses made it through the rocks and to Sareth's amazement as soon as they did the foliage around them rose up.

False coverings made from dead leaves fell away and men rose up from underneath, holding drawn bows at the ready. It was only by the light of his glowing shield that Sareth could see that these men had pointed ears and fair creamy skin.

"Loose!" One of them declared in an accent that betrayed origins of Sylvan Elves. A barrage of arrows shot forth into their pursuers and the horses they were wielding carried out, some in panic and others in pain. Two dark elves were thrown from their saddles with arrows sticking out of them.

Thralsai swung his horse back, narrowly avoiding the barrage and cursing loudly at the elves who blocked their path.

"Neutered Sylvan mongrels!" He hissed, spitting at them. "Phenrig, destroy them!"

Phenrig seemed only two happy to comply, raising his arms to strike at them with a burst of magic.

Before he could mutter any sort of incantation, the leader of the elven ambush drew two arrows from his quiver and fired them both together. His aim was perfect. The arrows whistled through the air before hitting both their targets with millimetre precision.

With both hands impaled by arrows, Phenrig cried out in pain as blood ran freely from his now paralyzed fingers.

"Take up arms against us now that your wizard is useless, coward!" The elf declared, casting his defiance at Thralsai. "Challenge the wrath of Sylanna if you dare."

"You can not have him!" The dark elf snapped, his entire body shaking with hate. "He is not for you! He was promised to us and only us!"

He spun his horse around and galloped away, leaving his dark elves and their own horses to rot where they fell.

Phenrig stayed, holding his ruined hands out in front of him.

Sareth watched him with an involuntary wrench of pity within his heart. For all that had just happened, this was still the man who had raised him, shared his home with him and trained him.

That pity disappeared when their eyes met across the distance and Sareth could see the hate brimming in them.

Without a word he wielded his own horses as best he could with the arrows in his hands and fled, galloping off into the darkness.

There was a wrenching in Sareth's soul at that, as if the act was a symbolic representation the tearing away of an innocence Sareth had never known he had, childhood things come in a baptism of blood, fire and terror.

It was all finally too much.

Dropping out of the saddle he fell to the ground and emptied his stomach loudly.

"'Tis a delicate friend I fear you have riding with you this night." The elf remarked. He was of medium height with angular, almost human features. His eyes were sea blue and the strands of hair coming down over his face from underneath his cowl. His hood and cape was over strewn with leaves, a garment that would allow him to hide far better amongst the forest floor.

"They'll be back with reinforcements soon." Leanna remarked trying to ignore him. "I thank you on behalf of my uncle I thank you, Wyngaal, for your assistance."

The elf inclined his head.

"Think nothing of it m'lady, but where is lord Menelag?" he asked with a worried note in his voice "I thought he was coming back with you?"

"Things got a little more complicated than expected." Leanna admitted. "But let's discuss that at the camp, before they have a chance to summon aid."

"Ah a fine suggestion." Wyngaal replied and made a serious of hand gestures to his elves. Within moments they had take up their equipment and were ready to move out.

"Sareth…" The young girl started, hopping off her horse and kneeling down by his side. "Come on, we have to move."

Sareth drew the back of his sleeve across his mouth but just kept staring at the ground.

"Look, I know this might sound harsh but you can do this later. Right now we have to get out of here."

She pulled him roughly to his feet.

"Alright, alright... let's go." Sareth muttered, staggering a little but he managed to get back on the horse.

The Elf Wyngaal led them off the roads and into the wilderness, deep into the woods that blurred the border of the empire with that of forests of Irollan. He knew many tracks through the tall trees and he led them confidentially even in the darkness.

Eventually they past into a dark grotto. It had sharp angled canyon walls leading up either side, covered in moss with a carpet of dead leaves strewn across the ground. The concealed valley was lit by a small growth of mushrooms, luminous in the darkness.

The camp was hidden amongst some roots that grew out of the rocks. No trails led up to it and its hidden position left it hard to spot from the outside.

"Can we risk a fire here?" Leanna asked as they dismounted the horses.

"A small one, make the fire pit quite deep." Wyngaal replied. "Just enough flame to keep warm until morning."

He proceeded to post his elves on watch, directing them with hand signals. They scrambled up into the trees with great agility and sat in the branches, perfectly camouflaged amongst the leaves.

Sareth dropped himself down beside the embers as Wyngaal pushed old bits of dead foliage into the bottom of a small fire pit and then set about lighting it with two small pieces of flint. He the rush of adrenaline and fear was beginning to wear of, he could feel the pieces of glass he had rolled over quite keenly and he was bruised from head to toe.

"Let me have a look." Leanna remarked, helping him pull off his jacket. She winced at the sight of the glass sticking out of his back. None of it was too deep but there was enough stuck in him to make it look a lot more serious than it actually was. "I know a few spells of restoration." She added shaking her head slightly. "I can heal this but we'll have to get the glass out first."

Wyngaal had a look at the injuries.

"Ah, 'tis nothing serious." He remarked. "Let me get yah a pair of tons. They'll get those big pieces out."

The process of removing them wasn't that painful but Sareth winced once or twice as they got to work. While they were busy, he laid a hand on the amulet he wore around his next and spoke softly into the dark reaches of his mind.

"Xana." He began.

There was no reply but he felt a surge of emotion from some nearby source.

"Xana, are you there?" He asked again.

There was another moment of silence.

"Yes…" He voice eventually came back. "I am here."

There were millions of questions in his head, all of them buzzing around in a confused daze and when he stopped for a moment to think about it… he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear the answers from her.

He wanted to get his head and damaged spirit sorted out before he attempted to untangle the mess of questions and answers.

"I'll talk to you later." He said, but in a way that assured her that there was no malice intended towards her.

Despite it all, he could not blame her for her part in that terrible ritual. She had shed no blood there, unlike Phenrig.

That was difficult to swallow. He still could not understand how his Master could have been, in reality, so evil. For there was no other word for the hideous rite they were attempting to perform other than 'evil'.

"There we go." Leanna stated, removing the last of the glass. Sareth shivered as the action of pulling the shard out hurting more than having it in.

"You've a strong sturdy back lad." Wyngaal laughed. "You'd make a good elf."

"I hope you'll forgive me if I don't share the mirth right now." Sareth commented. Wyngaal's eyes grew a bit uneasy coughed into his fist.

"Yes of course." He remarked apologetically and rose to his feet. "I'll leave you two alone. I'd just get in the way when magic's concerned." He bowed slightly to Leanna and made off to check on the horses.

"I hope you'll forgive Wyngaal, his sense of humour is good but the timing of his jokes needs a little work." Leanna explained and then gently laid her hands on Sareth's back. "Healing this will only take me a minute."

"Very well." He replied. "I suppose we can talk now?"

The girl made an affirmative noise and Sareth felt a strange tingle. She was working her spell, gently touching each one of his wounds in turn and allowing some of her mana to slip into them.

"What were they doing to me?" He asked, blurting out the one question that needed answering more than others.

"I don't pretend to know much about the peculiars of demonic rituals." She replied. "What your purpose was in their practise, I can't say but you were paramount to it. That's why my uncle and I had to get you out of there, before it could be completed. It's likely the ritual could have cost you your life."

Sareth did not want to think about that aspect of it.

"My uncle has been working for some time to uncover the cult and pinpoint their key members." She continued. "We knew a few of the Dark Elves were party to it but we didn't suspect Phenrig until quite recently."

"But you blew your own cover." He stated looking back, realising it just as he spoke. "To save me?"

"Are you complaining?" She asked back with a radiant smile. "Besides, we were able to identify all those people who attended the gathering as worshippers of Urgash and Kha-Beleth, with at knowledge we'll be able to put half of their network out of operation."

"Kha-Beleth?" Sareth repeated. He knew of the dark cosmic force Urgash, but his knowledge of demonology was about limited to just that.

"Kha-Bealeth is the Demon Sovereign." She told him, placing her hands against the most serious purple bruise near the base of his spine. "The chief deity in that dark pantheon. The son of Urgash and the fiery enemy of all peoples."

The notion that he had spent his childhood in the home of someone who worshipped something like that reinforced the dying resolve Sareth had once had about leaving to venture out into the wide world.

Now he did not seem to know of a location far enough away from that manor for his liking.

"My uncle will be able to tell you more though." Leanna said. "He spent some time in the Empire, before the war, studying the ways of chaos."

"Did he make it out of the manor?" Sareth asked, now concerned. He owed Menelag something for helping him escape with his life.

"He did." Leanna replied with a nod. "I was able to contact him telepathically. He made it out and he'll join us here. I have to keep magical contact like that limited as there are those with the skill to listen in."

There was a note of worry in her tone.

"There." She added, trying to sound a little more cheerful as she took away her hands. Sareth flexed a little. He felt stiff but the pain was gone.

"I guess a few scrapes are nothing compared to what could have happened." He commented.

The image of the slit throats of those servants Phenrig had casually sacrificed flashed across his mind for an instant.

"I think I need to sleep." He took hold of his shirt and stood back up.

"Good idea." Leanna said. "There's still some of the night left. Try to regain some strength. I'll wake you up if…" She corrected herself. "…when my uncle gets back."

"Of course." Sareth replied. "And…thank you."

Her smile was radiant and despite knowing how melancholy she was, Sareth could see a tiny bit of jealously from Xana.