Chapter 9: Dreaming
Myodei, Bazrir, Szayan, and Dyjhal had left from Gorraran; they returned to the Crossroads to get to the town of Krovesport. The town hadn't yet earned its infamy as a town of cutthroats and highwaymen, but it was frequented by a number of crime syndicates for being a port town. It was smart from a business standpoint, if they work where Battleonia exports and imports resources, they can get more bang-for-their-buck effort-wise. The rogues were strategic about it though; they would keep their looting just low enough as to not ruin business. This was a good move on their part, since it allowed for the continuation of immense profit from smuggling the stolen possessions.
The wooden buildings were mostly warehouses, inns, and businesses, but there were houses and custom offices. You may imagine that it was bizarre but there were more of the latter. The planks that made the city had the scars of time upon them, and many looked as though they were desperately in need of a replacement, else the structures might collapse from any fast winds that were bound for Krovesport. The state of disrepair that it was in made it difficult to sustain itself as an economically successful port town, but it was hanging on nonetheless. Storms weren't very frequent fortunately, so the town didn't have to worry too much about imminent destruction and rebuilding.
The four had made it into Krovesport, and it seemed that a good portion of the people that were looming the sides of the main road had dissipated as the group neared. Leather hoods covered their faces, and they were similarly dressed in leather armor. These were most likely a bunch of rogues from one of the many gangs, but it was impossible to discern their identity without the chance to get a closer look. The crooks and nannies of the town were bound to have been filled by the fleeting highwaymen; Bazrir could only imagine that Dyjhal looked as though he had fought enough to have scared them away.
Dyjhal wore robes in a similar style to those of Talados, which were fortified with Sea Brigling hide, since Briglings were known for their resilient carapace. It was difficult to see more than a slight glow underneath his cowl, but there were strands of hair that were rested on his leathery robe. The most visible parts of his hair were violet and blue; the bottom layers were entirely white. Lightning coursed through his body with great intensity; this could be easily seen in his faint, faded purple face.
The majority of the narrow, uninviting alleyways were bypassed, but there were small groupings of people in most of them. They always seemed to be conniving or joking about something; it was anyone's guess as to their relations with one another in a town like Krovesport. Rummaged crates littered the edges of the alleys; anything that might have once been valuable in them was defaced or sold to some fence. No one would ever dare to relieve them of their clutter, as the few residents of Krovesport would have preferred to not risk getting a dagger in their back for snooping around where they don't belong.
The group was past most of the shadowy streets; they were instead in the section where most of the inns took their residence. What went on in the hostels of Krovesport was always shady at best, but they were the most architecturally sound structures in the entirety of the town. Most business associates and higher-ups took their residence in the upper echelon of these buildings. As Bazrir passed one of the higher class hotels, he heard quite a number of moans. He presumed that it was from one of the establishment's means of relaxation, but it struck him as most peculiar nonetheless.
The docks were built off on the coast of the bay that Krovesport was on the edge of. They were made of a higher grade wood, as no laborers dared to stay out on those planks for longer than they absolutely needed to. All of the people of the town preferred to be standing on the cobblestone paved pathways. Those brave enough to work on the docks would usually find themselves sleeping with the fishes. There were multiple means to get to the main set of docks, but the main road was the safest. The others were all but guaranteed to lead you right into the paws of one of the many gangs that plagued the poor town, so you'd rarely, if ever, find a seasoned traveler on the sprawling side-streets unless they're willing to die to clean up the city.
The party managed to get on the docks of the shadowy Krovesport. They had paid for the usage of a fine, exquisite vessel, the Braken's Bane. Its captain was aged and experienced, but its crew was still mostly young and energetic. They were tan from their arduous days in the sun during their numerous voyages. The oaken planks of the ship bore the scars of the waters of the Great Sea. The remnants of a rotting Braken were hoisted onto the bowsprit of the boat with a number of ropes; they had done this as to intimidate any of the creatures of its namesake that they might encounter. The captain's quarters was opposite from the bowsprit; there was a wooden carving of a Braken with a cutlass forced deep between its eyes over the entrance of said room. The bottom of the vessel, the keel, had bladed fins that would stop many of the creatures of the sea that would dare disturb the mighty ship.
The Braken's Bane was an expensive vessel to reserve the services of, so it was fortunate for Myodei that he was financially backed by Sek-Duat's deep coffers. There was no other way that he could reasonably afford such a top of the line ship. Myodei's smaller party had crossed the gangplank onto the main deck. Myodei could now see that the eyes of the Braken carving were shriveled from fire; the edges of the wood still had the sooty residue all over them. Fitting, Myodei thought to himself, as the eyes of a Braken are as black as obsidian.
Myodei, Bazrir, Szayan, and Dyjhal went below decks into their designated chambers to rest for the long voyage to Deren. The anchor was raised from its resting place at the ocean floor, and the ship began the journey. The grouping knew that it would be best to use the time to rest up and relax, which for Dyjhal meant meditating and rereading his book, On Psionic Life. Bazrir was likely going to be lying down on one of the provided hammocks resting. Myodei was guaranteed to levitate while he was in deep thought. Szayan would even be able to take advantage of the break from travel on Bazrir's Sunspike, which he always considered made it an uncomfortable and rickety ride.
Bazrir shut the door to his chamber; he had a little tune stuck in his head. He laid the staff that Szayan rested in on a nearby dresser. He was going to let the tune come to fruition. It sparked some ancient memories that had all but left him; he recalled being in a lovely city. It was built with stone composing all of the major architecture of the city; all of the houses and regional walls were made with rock. It had two residential regions that were close to the market district; there was one to the northwest and southwest. The palace was to the northeast, and the business district was southeast. He remembered people down on their luck playing music off on the sides of the marketplace, often about their string of misfortunes.
He recalled himself in a decently sized stone house in the southern residential district. It was also here that Jalise lived, and Bazrir had made with her for the first time when they were both 5. Bazrir was a few months younger than Jalise, but this didn't faze him. Their encounters became more frequent within a few months, and they'd often play together whenever they could. They enjoyed each other's presence. Jalise had long, brunette hair and often wore cool-colored dresses; she had gorgeous hazel eyes. Bazrir couldn't remember any of their childhood shenanigans in great detail, but he knew that they had once bumped into quite a few people in a game of tag that they were having in the marketplace.
The later part of their childhood was whenever they would read to one another. The stories that they read were usually short and sweet fables, but they would occasionally find themselves incredibly challenged by a more advanced book. They would also practice their skill at writing with little letters that they'd hand to each other. Bazrir and Jalise's parents were pleased that the two got along so well, and, unbeknownst to either of them for many years, they had planned to have them marry. Their families weren't nobles, but they weren't at the bottom of the social hierarchy.
One night during their early teens, Bazrir had asked Jalise with a feeling beyond that of normal curiosity, "Can you believe me when I say there's nothing I like better than to just sit here and talk with you? Although, I'll rant and I'll rave about one and another; the beauty of it is so pure to me." Bazrir was certain that that wasn't what he had actually stated, but he did not mind the alteration to a minute detail. What mattered to Bazrir was Jalise's answer, as it had always been the case. Bazrir could not recall her voice, but he knew that she answered yes.
Sil was at the beckon of its Emperor, Lukron, and he often held public spectacles. Lukron was a big fan of gladiatorial fights, so he made certain to get his hands on some of the more elusive creatures of Lore. It was his fascination with such battles that Sil was given its symbolic colors of red and gold. Bazrir and Jalise had never went to any, as they simply never had the inclination. They preferred to have fun by each other's company rather than watch some prisoner risk his life for freedom. It was possible that the fights would even be discontinued as the aging Lukron was going to give the throne to his only son, Kuron. Lukron said that he had faith in his son's ability to rule, but Bazrir had never gotten to know Lukron or Kuron in great detail.
Bazrir's profession was to be a scribe, and Jalise was to be a librarian at the emperor's palace. They were both literate, which was still uncommon among the people of Sil. They'd walk near the stone walls, which divided the city up, together on the way to their work. Bazrir recalled reading a great many of things of ancient lore, and he was certain that it was here that he learned about the Sand Elves. He had thought nothing of it at the time, as his workday was quite arduous. It was quite common for him to return home with a terrible pain throughout his entire right hand from a long day of writing without end. Bazrir had extra motivation to finish his works, as he'd get to talk with Jalise once more when he completed any. They had to be stored safely within the palace library that only Jalise, the other librarians, and the Emperors themselves could enter.
Outside of their daily toil of work, Bazrir and Jalise were preparing for their preordained marriage that they had only recently known about. They had heard some news about Sil's war versus the Tulran horde, but they did not really know why the two powers were fighting. They'd occasionally find themselves looking at the many items of luxury at the marketplace in their leisure time. Bazrir would be looking for a wondrous gift for Jalise, and Jalise would do the same for Bazrir. They'd see a good bit of zephyrite, which was one of Sil's rarest metals. They were far out of either of their buying powers' though, so they looked for things that they knew their counterpart would enjoy.
In the northwest section of the marketplace, there was a shop called "Vanhalin's Musical Emporium". Bazrir recalled that Jalise loved to listen to a soft tune of music, but he didn't know how to play an instrument. The eighteen year-old Bazrir asked the retired musician, "Sir, is there anything that you have that could play a light, relaxing piece for someone? You see, I've never learned how to play an instrument."
Vanhal answered, "Oh, yeah, I should have something that would be just right for you." Bazrir took note of his lengthy, whitening hair as well as his bizarre, skin-tight clothes from his glory days as a renowned musician. Vanhalin must have been about sixty, but he still went into the back to get what he was certain would be perfect for Bazrir. He came back with an ornately decorated music box; it was lined with a pattern of men holding hands with women. "Ah, yes, this old thing should work just right, but we'll have to make sure it works. You make sure that you tell me if it ever breaks down on you." He cranked the music box, and it began to play a wondrous melody.
"It's perfect, but how much is it?" Bazrir queried.
Vanhalin responded pleasantly, "Music boxes haven't sold for a while, so I'll cut you a deal. Give me five hundred gold and it'll be yours."
"Just five hundred for such a wondrous piece of art? You are truly a kindred soul," Bazrir replied with abundant glee in his voice, and he handed over a small satchel of gold coins. He grabbed the music box afterwards and started to leave the shop. As he exited, he told Vanhalin, "Please, keep what change there is. You have been most kind."
Bazrir returned to his new little house with the music box in his hands. "Jalise, I have a little gift that I think you'll like," Bazrir called lovingly as soon as he entered. He set the set the music box down on an end table in the living room andcranked it.
The memory quickly changed to their honeymoon at the beach east of the Sandsea; there were Bazrir and Jalise on a boat out on the water. It was a small sailboat meant for two, and they planned to sail about the coast to enjoy the beautiful landscape. Their days on the water were calm. The wind wasn't too strong, nor were the waters lashing about too roughly. At some point during this time, Bazrir knew that he had said, "A lonely life behind me, oh, what a change you've made."
As the days went on, the ocean grew more violent. Perhaps the Water Lord was angry with them, none could say for sure. Bazrir suggested that they stay out of the water until it stops raging. They stayed on the coast for a few days, but Jalise was starting to look sick. She had a high fever and was beginning to cough up blood; it was a serious case of pneumonia. It seemed certain that it would not bode well for her; they were sure that there were no healers or alchemists nearby. The Sandsea was miles away, but it was their only hope to stay together. Their hired means of transport would not be back for at least another week.
Bazrir picked Jalise up from the little mat that he had made for her. It was going to be life-threatening for both of them, but Bazrir was going to carry her through the Sandsea into the city. He had shed a tear to the thought of seeing her die; he refused to see her die so soon. He was in the same sand-colored robes that he wore even now. Jalise was getting quite pale, so Bazrir would need to hurry.
The sands seemed endless, sprawling every direction for miles on end. On the very edge of the western horizon, Bazrir could barely see the tip of a temple dedicated to the Lady of Light. He traveled towards it in the hopes that he'd come across a group of nomadic Sand Elves. It seemed that Bazrir would not have such fortune, but this would not deter him. He was grasping at straws and knew it all too well.
It was the third night of this trek; Bazrir set up camp for them. Jalise's fever was very close to being deadly in its own right, and she had lost at least a quart of blood from her coughing. Bazrir was able to get the tent and bedrolls set up. As he took Jalise in his arms once more, he told her, "It shouldn't be much longer until we reach the city, dear. I've been doing my best, but maybe that just isn't enough?" Bazrir couldn't stand the thought that he said such a terrible thing to never deserved this, she never did, Bazrir said to himself.
In the following morning, Bazrir got up to begin the journey yet again. He felt her body only to find that it was very cold, and he tried some gentle motions to wake her if she was sleeping. They didn't work; he realized that she was dead. Bazrir was brought down to his knees, crying. Tears fell from his face onto her bedroll. No matter how he tried, he couldn't hold back his weeping. His eyes ached when he physically was unable to grieve anymore. Grief overwhelmed Bazrir's entire being.
Despite all of this, Bazrir continued on to the city with Jalise's corpse in his arms after hours of lamenting without end. Close to sunset, a small tribe of Sand Elves had met with Bazrir. They had helped him bury Jalise and get to the city. After she was given proper respects, he left the Sand Elves and journeyed off into the desert alone. He could not stand the idea of a world without Jalise, so he would have to dedicate his life to her return.
Bazrir found himself shaking viciously in the hammock when he awoke. What faint memories I have continue to haunt me, he reflected coldly. He contemplated in his head, I have been doing what I can, is this still not good enough?
The sunstone tipped staff that Szayan rested in was placed inside of a staff rack; it had a lock so that any items fixed into it couldn't easily fall out. They would usually remain there until the owner or a servant undid the locks and took the cane or staff back into their possession. Szayan gazed at the dreaming Bazrir, and he thought back on why they met. He wanted to recall exactly why he got into Myodei's service; he allowed the memories to flow.
Szayan's superior in the Plane of Light would use the light elemental as a postman for him. Most of the letters that Szayan delivered pertained to the behaviors of unruly followers of the Lord of Darkness, as his superior was a renown Light Sentinel. In one of them, the Sentinel had demanded for more Sun-Eaters and Light Demons, for he was running out of troops and desperately needed reinforcements against the assailing Night Horrors. Szayan actually knew little of what went on in that battle, since he never dared anger or question his master. He would rather not face the Sentinel's wrath over something that didn't really pertain him.
At some point during his service under the Light Sentinel, Szayan was traversing his elemental plane at blinding speeds when he had abruptly vanished from the Plane of Light. It took him a second to realize that he was being summoned elsewhere, and he would have to serve those that called for him. This was a new experience for Szayan, as he was never summoned prior to this moment. It was something to be proud of; someone needed his particular talents.
There was a large burst of light within a leathery tent; some of the Yenghal people burst in to make sure that their shaman was safe. The two guards that came in wore light, tan robes that covered their whole body. They had long bands of cloth that served as a headdress and scarf. They both wielded khopeshes and carried a sheathed falx on their belt if they ever needed it. "Shaman, are you alright?" One of the guards quickly asked. After a short pause, he continued, "What was that burst of light?"
"I am fine, Hekar," The shaman answered, "As for the burst of light, it was the answer to my call for help. We've been blessed by the presence of one of the agents of the Lady of Light." She wore robes akin to the male guards, but they were more fit to her light build. She wore a cloth that hung from her ears to protect her mouth and nose from the sands during a sandstorm, but one could still see her long, black hair that went down to the middle of her back. In her hands, she held a beautiful wooden staff decorated with harpy feathers and tipped with a sunstone.
Szayan showed hints of confusion as to why he was pulled from his duties in the Plane of Light before he asked, "Why have I been summoned, people of the desert? My superior will be most displeased if it is anything short of great importance, and I prefer to not anger him."
"You wish to know why we need you? I suppose that it is a fair question, so I shall answer it," The shaman started, "We are the Yenghal of the Skraeling Desert, and we have long settled the oases of this place. In recent times, the Lord of Water has been gracious to us. She has provided us with a great pool of water in a dry land, but this angered the Lord of Energy. His minions have been attacking our settlement in ever increasing numbers. They are determined to call this place their own. Jagos refuses to assist us, as it is not his duty. The sentinel of this oasis, Nalu, cannot hold them all off on her lonesome. In our desperation, the leader of our settlement has asked that I call for the assistance of an elemental. That elemental is you. Do you understand?"
Szayan absorbed this information well. "I know not who Jagos or Nalu are, but I comprehend what you have stated," Szayan answered. He continued, "Why do the minions of the Lord of Energy attack you though? Why are they so determined to claim this particular oasis? Is such information beyond the bounds of my summoning?"
The shaman replied, "You hold many questions for an elemental, but they are indeed overextending the rules that are set upon you by this calling. I do apologize for that, elemental, so I will ask, what is your name?"
"I am Szayan," The being made of light answered.
"You may see the havoc wreaked on our settlement as well as do your best to stop it then, Szayan," The shaman responded, "I am Vikara if you wanted to know who summoned you."
Szayan exited the salamander hide hut. There were shelters reduced to ashes by the lightning breath of Energy Dragons. The outskirts of the settlement were hit the hardest by the minions of the Lord of Energy, so they had shown the most damage. This was one of the breaks from the assaults; Szayan noted the Yenghals using the water conservatively to irrigate their crops and vegetation. They did not abuse their gift, and they had only called upon Szayan due to necessity. Szayan thought, Perhaps these people are different. Maybe they only wish to survive...
The people of the tribe began to notice the incredibly bright figure that was Szayan; they stared with awe and curiosity. They probably hadn't seen an elemental, other than Nalu, before in their lives. Vikara attempted to calm them, "Ease yourselves, fellows. This is Szayan, and he is an elemental that is supposed to help us!"
"This is all that we have received to protect us, a mere light elemental?" One of the people in the crowd asked with an unappreciative tone.
"Did you expect your shaman to summon an army?" Szayan called him out, "Do you not know the dangers of summoning? She has risked enough to call me here, for she could have grabbed the attention of some that are less willing to defend you, perhaps even an elemental that would reclaim the Well for themselves."
"As we're being assaulted by a dragon and its minions, yes, yes, I did, and even if it would cost our lives, I would rather have the feeling of security than my life to be in the hands of one blasted elemental," The man spoke out ungratefully.
Szayan inquired him for certainty, "A dragon, you say?" Szayan had noticed a large, winged, and yellow creature far off in the distance of the desert a little bit ago. It seemed to be accompanied by a small horde, so he could now easily presume that this was the assaulter. He was going to prove his worth.
The man had blinked, and Szayan was gone. The man queried, "Where in the name of the Lords did he go? He just disappeared!"
Far off in the distance, one could barely see a speck of light that was standing up to an oncoming horde of creatures of Energy. There were Thunderbirds, Lectros, EnergyZards, Briglings, Energy Mantiks, and even a Zzzzzzott. Szayan was in front of the leader of this pack, an Energy Dragon. "Get out of my way, or I will destroy you!" Szayan concentrated for a few seconds while he lazily raised his hand. Uvee erupted forth knocking the dragon and those behind him back. "You're a mage then? You're going to let this pathetic, little thing do your dirty work? Answer me! By the name of the Lord of Energy, you shall answer me!"
Szayan replied, "You shall not bother the Yenghal people so long as I defend them. Leave now, dragon, before I must end you and your minions. Am I understood?" Before the dragon could respond, Szayan flashed over to one of his young Energy Dragons. He called a small storm of light shards that punctured multiple parts of its body; it was beginning to bleed profusely.
"You...you would dare to strike at one of my dragons? I..." The dragon was at a loss for words. Uvee remained in front of the dragon if he decided to strike.
Szayan asked again, "Am I understood?"
"Just you wait, light elemental..." The Energy Dragon ended ominously as he and his horde retreated.
"Thank for your service, Uvee," Szayan stated, "You have always been there for me whenever I needed you." Uvee quickly faded back into the Plane of Light after Szayan finished.
In another blink, Szayan was back in the settlement. "I went to stop the small army that would have otherwise laid waste to this settlement," Szayan answered the ungrateful man. "I wish to see more of this place," He stated shortly afterward in the otherwise silent space.
Vikara queried, "Do you wish to see Nalu? Or is it truly this town that you wish to see? Perhaps it is both?"
"It is indeed both," Szayan answered, "However I wish to meet Nalu first."
"Follow me, Szayan," Vikara replied. The tan, robed woman led Szayan to the deep pool of water. "This is the Well of the Water Lord's Tears," Vikara began, "The namesake of this spring is why the Lord of Energy's minions wish to claim this area. They do not wish for any to use the Tears. I can only imagine that it is involved in their silly war."
A large being made of water rose from the pool; this was the Sentinel Nalu. Waves rippled through her form; water dripped from her fingertips and hair. Small whirlpools made for her eyes, and she lacked a visible mouth. Her form was akin to that of a female humanoid until a bit below the hips, where her liquid body merged with that of the well. She asked most curiously, "Is this the elemental called to protect the civilization that you have surrounding my Lord's Well? Are you Szayan, light elemental?"
"I am," Szayan answered. He continued, "And are you Nalu, Sentinel of the Lord of Water?"
"That is correct," Nalu replied.
"It is funny. I leave the service of a Sentinel, only to find myself in the service of another," Szayan stated.
Szayan seemed to have whisked away; he had fully become light as he raced towards the nearest light source to hole up in. He had practically instantaneously found himself inside of the sunstone that tipped Vikara's staff. It came to be an experience that he grown very acquainted to. Inside the sunstone, Szayan would reflect on his old life. He was glad to have left the demeaning service of the Light Sentinel, but he could not remember anything prior to it. He would occasionally look into the mind of Vikara, and Szayan would find memories of the town. There were tanneries, stables, farms, and many other things that Szayan could not recall.
Weeks went on to months as the same scenes repeated themselves; the Energy Dragon would always retreat. Szayan hadn't realized that the Energy Dragon had learned about his need to rest in a light source. The events were minute by minute happening earlier in the day. The horde that followed the Energy Dragon had also dwindled with the passing of time; morale dropped exponentially with each failed attempt. The Energy Dragon had to convince them that he knew exactly what he was doing. After many failures, the Energy Dragon had went on his own hours before the pattern would have suggested, since Szayan had picked up on the dragon's method. Szayan would still be resting for another hour before he could appear again.
Szayan noticed that he couldn't link with Vikara anymore, but he couldn't tell if it was from her placing the staff away or her death. When he was finally able to manifest, Szayan found that the town was purely ashes. What few survivors that there were must have fled from the scene. The things behind the attack were nowhere to be found. Szayan rifled through all of the remains to look for someone still alive, but he had only managed to find corpses of people that he was growing fond of. Under the remnants of the hut that he had been summoned in, Szayan found Vikara's dead body. She had burn marks throughout her entire body.
Szayan had worked to give them all a proper burial, but the Energy Dragon would return soon. Szayan had then noted a figure in sand-colored robes that was in the horizon. The light elemental speculated, Who could that be? I can only hope that it was a survivor of this atrocity. Szayan found himself in front of the person in a second, but Szayan had carried Vikara's Staff in his hand this time. Szayan desperately plead to him, "Are you a survivor from the Well? Who are you? Please answer me... please."
The robed man answered, "The Well of the Water Lord's Tears? No, I had wanted to go there actually. What has happened?"
Szayan looked at him, "Tell me who you are and I shall reveal what I think had occurred."
"I am Bazrir, but who are you?" Bazrir replied.
The light elemental returned sorrowfully, "I am Szayan, and I had protected the Well from an Energy Dragon and its minions for months, perhaps a year by now. I had been unable to manifest for quite some time when an attack happened. The entire place is nothing more than a pool and ashes. I do not know if any of the Yenghal people survived the ordeal." Szayan returned to the sunstone in the staff, and Bazrir picked the wooden rod out of curiosity. The two had grown a bond from then on, as Szayan learned of Bazrir and vice versa.
Bazrir had then noticed that there was a small group nearby. One of them appeared to be on fire, and another seemed to be made of water. They appeared to be looking for something, and they had seen Bazrir. "Who are you?" Bazrir asked the four entities.
The one in light gray robes responded, "I am Myodei. Those that are with me are Veqwei, Zynaer, and Dyjhal. We've been looking for one of the wiser Cyclopes tribes, as I hear that they have collections of Light Orbs. I needed a companion of Light, would you somehow know one by chance, lich?"
"I do," Bazrir remarked, "His name is Szayan, and he is here now, technically."
Myodei queried, "He is? Where is he?"
Bazrir replied, "He rests in the sunstone in my staff." He showed Myodei the staff that still had some of the Harpy feathers.
Dyjhal broke away from Bazrir and Myodei and headed for his personal chamber on the Braken's Bane. He locked the door behind him; he did not wish to be disturbed during his meditation. He placed his glaive into the staff holder and locked it in place. The energy elemental sat beneath the hammock with his legs crossed over each other in a full lotus style. His mind flooded with memories and knowledge, but he was going to focus on one particular event. Dyjhal stated woefully, "Why did the Lord of Energy betray my faith? Why did he need that part of the desert?"
Dyjhal was a faithful servant of the Lord of Energy for a long time; he knew the words of the Lord of Energy as well as himself. He would listen to every command of his Lord through his superior, Xalvyk. Dyjhal had never met the Lord of Energy physically or personally, but he held his belief to his Elemental Lord wholeheartedly. The energy elemental was certain that his Lord was just in his every action, which were all decided upon with rightful meditation on it. He believed that his lord knew Dyjhal before he had. The energy elemental was often sent to defend places being assaulted by his enemies, and Dyjhal would call lightning storms alongside the blade of his glaive to protect the wealth of his deity. He had done all of this in knowing that it was the right thing to do. He had a sentence that he would commonly use, "When one sees solely what is before them, they know only a fragment of the whole. The Lord of Energy knows this in his great wisdom."
There was a large fire dragon descending upon Thunder Mountain with his massive following. The creatures within the horde were impossible to actively discern. Djyhal and another dragon, a blue energy one with large metallic horns, watched the army swarm towards them close to the smokey, dragon-shaped peak of the mount. Their own forces awaited them at the base of the mountain. "They will come upon us soon," The dragon sighed, "But they will get no victory from us, will they?"
"Krenos, it is the will of our lord that you retain the rule of this mountain," Dyjhal responded, "By the will of his wisdom, I have endured. In enduring, I have grown strong. I ask that you watch the glory of his might." He crossed his legs into the full lotus style. He focused his thoughts on his certainty of the justness of the Energy Lord. He remembered storms called to strike down the treacherous; lightning to smite the merciless warrior. These were the mannerisms of his vigilant then strike at the moment of certainty. My wrath is only for the criminal, the killer, and the merciless fighter. They are the merciless soldiers of the fire dragon of Smoke Mountain. It is for this reason that they will face the storm of the Energy Lord, and it is in this absolution that I have and shall fight for him.
Black clouds manifested over the fiery creatures; they began to blot out the sky. The minions of the fire dragon as well as the reptile himself had noticed the sudden change, but it was too late for them. Lightning struck to and fro, and the sound of thunder burst as it followed each of them. Small groups of clustered foes would all be struck by a single, jagged bolt. The dragon had managed to flee without being struck down. Many of his servants had not been so fortunate. The servants of Krenos used this opportunity to retaliate with great ferocity. They slashed and cut away at the dazed soldiers of the fire dragon. The clouds cleared, and Solaris was quite visible once more. There were now a large amount of corpses of the Energy and Fire Dragon's Armies, but it was difficult for Dyjhal to see what exactly happened.
"This is the power of one," Dyjhal stated, "Do you understand, Krenos?"
"You do mean an individual?" Krenos asked unsure of what the energy elemental meant.
Dyjhal answered patiently, "No, I mean faith and existence. In me, they are one rather than two. I know that in my faith to the Lord of Energy that I find reason to exist. Never has he stirred me wrong."
"What will happen when he has?" Krenos inquired curiously, "How would one that is so faithful handle such doubt?"
"I... I had never thought about it," The energy elemental replied with unease. Dyjhal questioned himself inside, Have I allowed myself to be blinded by unyielding faith? How is it that I allowed this? After a momentary pause, Dyjhal continued, "I... I thank you for your wisdom, great Krenos. I shall return to the Plane of Energy with your words in mind. I... I must meditate on them, unless I am called elsewhere."
A small burst of electricity enveloped Dyjhal, and he returned to the home of his lord. He had far more uncertainties with him than ever before. Lightning coursed throughout the entirety of the plane. For mortal eyes, the surges of white, violet, and blue would be blinding at the least. Xalvyk stood before him and declared, "Dyjhal, you are to be sent to the Skraeling Desert. You are to be assisting a force that is preparing to claim a wellspring there. You will likely find some resistance, but they are not to be handled with lightly. This is the request of the Lord of Energy. As his faithful servants, we shall obey. Will you not fulfill your task?"
"I am being sent on the offensive front, sir?" Dyjhal inquired and remarked, "I only have known the act of defending the relics of our lord, Xalvyk. Why would he change my role in battles like this?"
Xalvyk answered impatiently, "I do not have the time for this debate, Dyjhal. I have many other elementals to attend to, so let's cut this short. I do not know why our lord has done this, but he has requested that you assist in the offensive in this war. You are not to deny him. Do you understand that?"
Dyjhal reluctantly sighed, "Yes, Xalvyk. I shall go, bless the Lord of Energy." A portal opened by the will of the Zarlath, and Dyjhal entered it.
Surrounding Dyjhal, there were all kinds of creatures of his element. There were bipedal reptiles with yellow fur; they were supposed to power the Energy Lord's weapon forges. They were alongside yellow-orange, ostrich-like birds with lightning coursing around their eyes. Nearby were brown, spherical creatures with inner yellow glows; they were covered in spines. Two tentacles grew out of their mouths, and each ended with two appendages. There were dark yellow insects that had lightning-like regions of their chitinous exoskeleton that were light blue. Their upper arms were predatory limbs; there was an arm that ended with three fingers underneath both of them. The mantiks' legs had three parts and ended with three-toed hooves. There were even some blue spheres filled with electricity; three tentacles flailed about beneath its main body.
At the head of this horde was a large, bright yellow, and winged reptile; its bat-like wings lazily fluttered up and down. The immense body of the dragon was covered in a cohesive, leathery cover rather than reptilian scales. Jagged teeth lined its mouth; the reptile's upper and lower jaws ended at a fine point. The creature's nostrils were close to the end of the upper jaw and barely above its wicked fangs. The dragon had red eyes, and its mane of horns began over the reptile's oculars and decreased in size as they descended the upper jaw. The dragon's neck was almost as tall as its lower body and swerved back from its initial upward angle. Its forelegs connected to the dragon's scapula, which was oddly shaped to allow for its unusual placement of wings. The forelegs ended in paws that had three toes in the front alongside one in the back. The hind legs' heels were elevated from the ground, and most of the pressure went through the hind legs' three toes.
The dragon hissed, "The Lord of Energy has graced us with one of his personal servants?"
"No, I am a soldier of a Zarlath, Xalvyk," The energy elemental replied, "As for me, I am Dyjhal."
The reptile gleefully stated, "A warrior of a sub-lord is still a force to be reckoned with. The Yenghal people will not stand a chance against our might or will they, Dyjhal?"
"Can you answer as to what the Yenghal people have done to wrong our Lord of Energy?" Dyjhal queried.
The dragon answered, "They have settled something that we are to claim. We need no more reason than that to end them."
"Perhaps you don't, but I do," Dyjhal remarked and continued, "I will not kill anyone unless I know what their crimes truly are or unless they will have it no other way."
The winged creature roared, "I know that they will not surrender their best means of living to us by choice. It is because of this unwillingness they will be destroyed, Dyjhal. I will not debate beyond this with you. You will join my ranks or abandon the Lord of Energy. It is your choice, warrior."
"Why does the Lord of Energy desire this wellspring so much then?" Dyjhal inquired, "What is it that is more important than the lives of those people? Do you know why you are attacking this oasis, dragon?"
The dragon mocked the energy elemental, "I know the commands of the Lord of Energy, and his wants are none of my concern."
In Dyjhal's attempt to remain a moral being, he had challenged the dragon's point with Dyjhal once used to defend the Energy Lord. He stated it solemnly, "When one sees solely what is before them, they know only a fragment of the whole. In your complacency to the Lord of Energy, have you grown blind? You are willing to needlessly kill innocent people to please him?"
The dragon was furious, "I was told to claim the Well of the Water Lord's Tears by any means necessary, but you refuse to accept this. So do you truly know your precious lord? Have you blinded yourself in your ideals that you and your lord had to be in the right? Do you even begin to comprehend the war that the Elemental Lords are waging?"
Dyjhal was at a loss for words at the devaluing of his points. He could not muster a response to any of them, as he had never questioned his faith before. Dyjhal doubted his faith and equally so for his own existence, but the two were one initially. They had been split. He mumbled to himself, "From one, there are now two. Neither of them compare to the focus of one; they do not know themselves anymore. The one will never be restored, so the two must come to knowthemselves. In knowing their selves, they will grow strong. In their strength, they will work under one will."
"What are you mumbling about now?" The dragon queried furiously.
Dyjhal did not answer him; he simply stood there. The words of Krenos and the behavior of this dragon had broke a fighter that had never faced such questions before. He did not know the Energy Lord anymore; all the praises that he had given to his lord were lost in meaning to him. His words were no longer his, as he did not know them. Dyjhal no longer understood why he had killed countless people that opposed his lord. He remained in this motionless state for weeks, but he could not come to an acceptable conclusion to leave his lifeless condition. He could not soundly defend the reasoning behind the Lord of Energy's declaration to take the Well of the Water Lord's Tears, even if it required the destruction of the Yenghal people. Dyjhal thought that it might not have actually been his words. It had only left Dyjhal with this question, Why would Xalvyk lie to him?
A watery, fiery, and robed figure neared the statue-like Dyjhal. The robed figure raised his brow, "What ails you, elemental?"
Dyjhal answered quickly, "My faith and reason for existence are broken. That is what ails me." As soon as he finished speaking, the energy elemental returned to the exact position that he was in before. It was almost as though he had never moved.
"Why has your belief and desire for life been shattered?" Myodei queried.
Dyjhal replied depressingly, "My lord has been unjust, but I have come to this revelation too late. I was blinded by my faith to atrocities that he would command to happen."
"Many things are unjust, but these should raise you to act, not stand idly by," Myodei stated.
The energy elemental was surprised by these words, "You're right. I have been a fool to allow this to take hold of me. I may not know myself yet, but I will work towards it once more. Who are you, if I may ask?"
"I am Myodei, and I have been abandoned by my lord as well," Myodei answered.
Dyjhal was pleased by this. He sounded more pleasant as he declared, "I am Dyjhal. You have done me a great service, so I am in your debt, Myodei. What would you have me do to repay you?"
"I would have you do nothing, but you may choose to help me if you so desire," Myodei responded, "I wish for there to be a better place for elementals that have come to not grovel the whims of the Elemental Lords. I desire for elementals with misdoings to find redemption for themselves. Would you want to help me in this, Dyjhal?"
"I will gladly support you, Myodei," Dyjhal replied, "In assisting you, perhaps I will come to know myself again. The two will work under one will until then, for the inaction of the two has led to far too many deaths. I will let nothing blind me from the whole ever again, as it will always end in disaster." The energy elemental did not know how long that he was in this stasis when they began for the Well of the Water Lord's Tears. Dyjhal noticed a figure in the distance, but he was hard to discern from the sands.
The figure called out in the distance, "Who are you?"
Myodei answered him, "I am Myodei. Those that are with me are Veqwei, Zynaer, and Dyjhal. We've been looking for one of the wiser Cyclopes tribes, as I hear that they have collections of Light Orbs. I needed a companion of Light, would you somehow know one by chance, lich?" One could barely see his rotting face.
"I do," He replied, "His name is Szayan, and he is here now, technically."
"He is? Where is he?" Myodei had a look of uncertainty; he might have thought that the lich was insane. It did leave one to wonder where a Light Elemental would be hiding.
The lich answered, "He rests in the sunstone in my staff." He allowed us to look at his staff that was decorated with some pink and yellow feathers, likely from a Harpy.
The memory fizzled and recollected itself at a later point in time. Dyjhal was looking at the magnificent form of Szayan; he was light in the shape of a human. He told the light elemental remorsefully, "In your actions, you had done your best to stop this travesty. In my inaction, I allowed this atrocity. It is more of my fault than yours, and I will forever hold this burden."