AUTHORS NOTES
Archer1eye: *blushes* The thing is... nobody had to die. I could write this entire story without anybody dying, but it would be very bland.. very unrealistic. I could write so that characters all have 'realisations' or tie their story up before they die, but that wouldn't be very realistic. Realism is that characters will die, mid-story (mid their story) for absolutely no reason whatsoever because ultimately... this isn't a story about them, it's a story about Sharein
Slyksylva: Sorry not sorry? ;-) The emotional rollercoaster continues... shorly
Havok22: Hahaha! Just read and see ;-) Chapter 76
I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling. It was not man-made, but instead appeared to be natural stone. I furrowed my brow in confusion, the colours were washed out indicating that it was pitch black, wherever I was. I flexed my fingers and wiggled my toes experimentally. Everything felt stiff and very very sore. I groaned as a headache started to form.
'Shard,' I called, but there was no answer, no reassuring presence.
"Shard?" I whispered croakily, my voice harsh, hoarse and weak.
Tears began to stream down my cheeks from the pain, exhaustion and fear. Speaking brought on a coughing fit that jarred the muscles in my chest and my back. I rolled to my side to curl up, to seek comfort in myself. The stone I was lying on was hard and I realised in rolling that I was naked. A cave stretched out in front of me, not extremely large but big enough to hold a house in it. Stalactites dropped from the ceiling and in places stalagmites rose up to greet them. A pool of water sat in one corner, still and serene until it's surface was broken by a drop of water that caused ripples to spread out in concentric circles. The roof of the cavern sloped down as it got closer to me so I guessed that I was close to one end of it, a guess I wasn't quite ready to confirm. I was thirsty, my mouth and throat felt incredibly dry; and my stomach seemed hollow and empty. I wondered how long I'd been there for, but it was only a passing thought at the time, there were more important things to worry about. I brought my left hand up to my right shoulder and felt the skin there. It was not smooth and unblemished but there was no hole either, it felt like a divot and a dent. The skin was slightly rougher, as if it had healed naturally and not through the healing magics of divine intervention. I moved my hand down to my stomach and thigh to find three more of these scarred dents.
It left me wondering who had healed me? Surely Shard would have healed me up through her own power. Through the fog of sleep I tried to think back about the last things I could remember. I could remember the orcs approaching, I could remember their wicked blades poised to end my life. I could remember reaching for something, reaching for the feeling of a spell that would get me away, get me to Shard. My eyes widened in shocked realisation. I had cast Teleport! A spell of the seventh level of magic that there was no way I was ready or able to cast! My mind went back to Malkarov's master, lying in a bed at the Mages Guild unable to respond to anything; effectively dead in every way that mattered. Did I really cast Teleport? Shard! The last thing I remembered was Shard's face hovering over me, looking worried, looking afraid.
"Shard!" I called again, worried at the sound of my voice and dismayed at the energy it took.
I forced my body to move in an attempt to lift myself up, but instead only managed to roll off the stone slab I was lying on. I fell a couple of feet to the ground with a thud that sent ripples of pain running through my body and causing me to black out from the pain.
When I came to, I crawled, painfully and slowly towards the pool of water. With no concept of time, I had no idea how long it took but it seemed forever. Foot by painful foot I dragged myself along until I reached the smooth incline that formed the bank of the pool.
I was about to take a drink before I paused and quickly thought out a prayer to Tenebrae to Purify Drink. A ripple of black light spread across the water and only then did I confidently take a drink. The water seemed the sweetest thing I had ever drank before, it washed away all of the dryness in my mouth and throat. It sat heavy in my empty stomach but dismissed some of the emptiness I felt. I looked back the way I had come and noticed a rough hole behind the smooth stone platform I had woken on.
I didn't know how long it was that I had laid there, but it was long enough to build up the energy required to stand. I was shaky and unsteady to begin with, having to brace myself against the wall of the cavern on a couple of occasions. On unstably, shaky feet I walked to the slab and looked into the tunnel. It climbed steadily upwards.
Something seemed off, different. I should have noticed much sooner than I had, but my thoughts seemed to be foggy, slow. I looked down my arms, bracing on the slab. They were dirty? No, not dirty. It wasn't random smudge, it was painted on. Symbols all down my arms and right to my wrists. They were painted on my skin with some sort of black ink, showing up starkly on my unnaturally pale body. I reached across to wipe it, but it didn't smudge, it didn't wipe away. I looked down my body and saw that these symbols followed a line along the outsides of my arm to my shoulders and from there travelled down either side of my breasts to cross over my belly button and continue down the outside of my legs. I didn't recognise them at all, none of them were the runes Malkarov had taught me. The line of runes was about three inches wide all along with each line of runes containing nine runes each.
I put aside that mystery for the time being, it was something that I could look into at a later date.
"Shard!" I called out, my throat no longer raspy or hoarse, but still sore.
There was no answer. Nothing.
There was nothing else in the cavern for me, so I walked slowly up the inclining tunnel that continued steadily onwards for about one hundred yards. The tunnel ended with the roof coming down so that there was only a three foot gap. I knelt and peered into the narrow gap and noticed that instead of a curved roof, like the tunnel had while go up, the roof of the tunnel's end was smooth and flat… and black. I reached my hand in to touch the roof, to feel it. The instance I touched the smooth black stone, it crumbled into smooth gravel. Each piece was smaller than a copper bit and I was able to reach in and scrape it out into the tunnel. Once I had the last bit scraped out, I crawled into the tunnel on my back to look up into the hole that had been created. The hole seemed to open up into a huge cavern! Vaguely I could see lights off in the distance, but they seemed a long long way away. I crawled further into the gap until I was able to stand up in the hole and when I did I realised how silly I was. The hole opened up after only a few feet into a clearing in a forest! I turned around to find which direction Luna was shining from and realised with a dreadful sinking feeling that I knew exactly the clearing I was in.
It was Shard's clearing and I had just swept down a tunnel, the remains of Shard's altar!
"Shard!" I cried out as a gut-wrenching pain ripped through me and I collapsed down to cry.
What had happened? Where was she? With her altar gone, was she… dead? Gone?
Questions swirled around and around as I sobbed in despair. Eventually my despair was replaced by Shard's face, Shard's smiling face, frowning face, angry face, surprised face. As I closed my eyes I could picture her and in doing so I managed to gain back some measure of strength. Enough to stop crying at least.
I stood up and reached up to lift myself out of the tunnel, in my weakened state it was difficult but I did manage it in the end. I made my way through the forest towards the farm, hopeful that at least someone would be there that could tell me what had happened, or at least how long I had been underground there for.
I knew something was wrong as soon as I got to the edge of the forest. The barley we had sowed would have been ready to harvest just after Mari's wedding day, but now it was all pale and dead, stalks collapsed onto the soil. The long grain took much longer to grow and was now not far off harvest. I mentally ran through the months and realised with a shock that it had to have been somewhere around High Summer! That meant that I had to have been down in that cave for at least three months! More distressingly the fact that the barley hadn't actually been harvested!
Did Malkarov fail? Was it all for nothing? What happened to my family?
I rushed forward through the field towards the farmhouse to find a strange sight. Skeletons, partially covered by lacquered leather littered the ground outside of the house. Four of them lay there in different positions. Their skulls and frames were much too big for human, they were obviously orc, picked over and eaten by scavengers until nothing but bones and armour remained. I wondered at the lack of weapons nearby and concluded that they were likely taken by whoever killed them. Frantically I ran into the house and looked around. I could find no more bodies, thankfully, but did see the signs of a hurried escape. Food was still on the table covered in furry molds, the fire long ago abandoned. I looked for clothes first and found one of Mother's dresses in her and Father's room and some jars of preserved and dried foods in one of the cupboards. I greedily ate some preserved cabbage. Further searching revealed some of Father's cured meats, which I eagerly took. I took a pack to store the food and prepared to head towards town.
The stable was empty and the cattle long dead or gone, so I began the walk along the road towards Easthaven. I didn't see a living soul the entire way to the mouth of the valley that marked Easthaven township. But that was where things changed.
There was a small lean-to constructed beside the road and in it; two sleeping orcs. I froze instantly and wondered that something must have gone terribly wrong. It was a horribly distressing scene to see the orcs there, it meant that everything had changed.
I heard a growl and momentarily looked around before I realised that I was the one making the sound. It was a feral noise and bespoke anger and animal viciousness that I wasn't aware I had.
I was lifting my hand up to my mouth when Magic Missile sprung out of my palm without even a conscious desire to cast it! Eight bolts of magic went whizzing off towards the two sleeping orcs, spinning in a spiral only to split off and hit both of them.
I looked at my hand in shock. I hadn't even summoned the spell! The magical signature that made each spell different didn't well up inside me! All I knew was that I wanted those two orcs dead.
And magic took care of that for me.
At merely a thought, I became invisible and strode confidently towards Malkarov's tower. Orcs were everywhere! Too many to count, they had made themselves at home in the houses of the townspeople. They had turned Easthaven into their own town! There obviously weren't enough houses for them, for they had set up tents on the Commons Paddock and sat around fires drinking and fighting. Everywhere I looked there were orcs! I made it over the bridge without hassle and walked up to Malkarov's tower, hoping that it was unspoiled.
I couldn't tell if the door had ever been opened, but it was presently closed with a guard leaning against it sleeping. It didn't wake when I slipped it's dagger out of the sheath on its belt and it would never wake again when I pushed that dagger through its ear.
I used Mage Hand to open the door, once again without thought, and strode into the tower. I closed the door behind me and let out a sigh. The ground floor was untouched. I thanked Tenebrae for whatever luck had prevented the orcs from entering and ran up the stairs to my bedroom. I opened the door to the room not at all as I had left it.
For on my unmade bed lay my staff, sword, trousers, tunic and vest. The trousers had two neat holes in the legs as did the tunic and vest. All of the holes were stained around with the reddish brown of dried blood.
'How?' I wondered to myself.
Not only those things of mine, but also a piece of parchment, a note. I picked it up and realised immediately that it wasn't written in Malkarov's chicken scratch handwriting, but in a neat flowing script that was likely Alladrial's.
Dear Sharein,
I am writing in the hope that you are not dead and that you will return here. We failed. I am unsure what happened, but while I concentrated on my spell, Malkarov was enchanting the wall and was struck by a crossbow bolt. Some of the orcs had spotted us and their attack was enough to disrupt my spell and Malkarov's work. We managed to kill the orcs that were left, but when we investigated your location all we could find were these things on the bed. We called to Shard, unsure if she could hear us, but she didn't respond. I brought Malkarov and your things back here and I intend to take him through to Kaz Sarion. He needs healing, special healing and that was the only place I felt I could take him. I intend to come back through our portal to get some of Malkarov's things, but then to close the portal permanently. If you are alive and do read this note, know that you will be welcome to join us in Sarillion.
Yours
Alladrial Li'Falandaralithial Na'Kaz Sarion
I decided to spend as much time as I could gathering things from Malkarov's tower, I knew that he wouldn't begrudge me that and to that end I wrote out the room scheme for the bell enchantment we had used to prank Father Mattias and put it at the foot of the door. Penning out that rune scheme and enchanting it gave me a wicked idea, one that would take a while to enact but could potentially allow me a measure of revenge.
Thankfully Alladrial had not taken all of Malkarov's enchanting ink and there were plenty of parchment and enchanting tools still around. More importantly, were Malkarov's books on enchanting.
