When he reached the golden doors, they hung loosely from their hinges and beneath them was a vast emptiness. He was afraid that if they separated from their frame, they would fall away into space. He hurried across the disintegrating threshold and hastily made for the path before him. The leaves were falling thickly everywhere, creating a silver snowstorm all around him. He had to jump over crevices, beneath which was nothing at all. He rushed through waves of falling trees that made no sound as they tumbled, collapsing heavily behind him as he passed them by. This world was imploding, not simply disappearing. Its magnificence and awesome beauty was being sucked into the vacuity of the void, sundered forever, as if it never had existed at all.
The colors of everything were fading gradually as he careened down the path, getting paler and paler, until he could barely distinguish between the different objects that surrounded him. He saw only shadows of what once was, and even the shadows were pale and indistinct, evanescent and barely discernible. The blanket of moss and grass upon which he stepped disappeared beneath his feet, and he hurried over merely the suggestions of solidity, while his feet miraculously remained level. The silence was almost unbearable and it was only enhanced a million times over in contradiction to the violent activity he saw everywhere. This world was ending, and Baladar knew that he had to leave it before it disappeared completely or he would melt away with it and vanish forever into nothingness.
He ran and ran until he found himself once more before the portal through which he had earlier entered the realm of the Lady of the Island. He stepped through it and was immediately sucked into the vacuum of space, his body turning and twisting and spinning uncontrollably. He instantaneously lost his sense of balance, his equilibrium disrupted entirely. But he allowed himself to fall and to rise again, to tumble and to turn and to rush headlong into the void. He let go for a while, not knowing if he would ever return to the world once more, and he lost all track of time in the process.
He lost consciousness for what seemed like a short span though he was unsure exactly of how long, and he awoke to the distinct sound of a horn blaring in the distance. As his eyes began to focus once again, he regained his balance and righted himself. He recognized the path before him, and urgency compelled him forward.
Baladar ran at full speed through the forest, past the hollow, the chasm that was once Snihso, until he discovered once again the trap door that would lead him into the tunnel. He threw it open violently, gasping for breath by this time, and he jumped into the hole. Not wasting even a moment to find the torch he left at the door, he ran through the darkness, bumping into walls of hard dirt and falling occasionally, racing down the darkened passageway, until he reached the stone doorway that marked the end of the shaft.
Baladar pushed on the indentation that would release the lever and allow the hidden door to open. Without any thought of concealing his actions, he pressed heavily upon the stone, throwing it loudly open, and then he crashed through the doorway into the room. He collapsed in an exhausted heap on the floor, panting heavily.
Chapter Fifty-three
The noise from the catapults was the first sound he was able to distinguish, and it motivated him to rise and return to the battlements. He rushed through the rubble strewn streets, and as he approached the guard post that would take him to the towers, he heard a voice call to him from above.
“My Lord? Where have you been? We have searched everywhere for you.” Grogan yelled down at Baladar.
“Let me join you and I will explain,” he yelled back, panting between his words while brushing the dirt and debris from his cloak as he rushed up the winding steps.
When he reached the top, he was met by Filaree, Cairn and Robyn. They looked expectantly upon him, each of them relieved to see him again, as he immediately began to recount the events of the past few hours. After he completed relating his recent experiences with Calista and they all took a moment to absorb what he said, Robyn was the first one to speak.
“I deeply regret that I have not had the opportunity to meet this astonishing woman. Alas, I now never shall,” he said sadly. “We are all dangling over the threshold of a new age. The present as we know it is falling away piece by piece. What was only moments ago a part of our reality is now mere legend. She will be sorely missed.”
“Is there nothing we can do to help her?” Filaree asked.
“I fear not, Lady Filaree. It is beyond our power. We must do what we can to help ourselves. The fabric weaves of its own will’,” he repeated solemnly to the group what Calista had so poignantly said to him earlier.
“Do you think she can do anything to aid us at this point? The wall yonder is weakening by the minute. I pray it is not too late even if she still commands some power,” Cairn said as he gazed at the battleground.
Baladar was looking out over the fortification as well, at the newest barrage of stones that was being cast upon it, and he was alarmed at the extent of the damage to the broad wall. In his short absence it appeared to have weakened considerably.
“I suspect that it may be, my friend. She is gravely impaired from the same force that drives our enemy with such abandon. She had little strength left to devote to our plight, I fear.”
Baladar answered these queries with tremendous resignation in his voice. He walked wearily to the edge of the wall and stood near the tower, gazing out toward the western horizon with his eyelids half closed, deep in contemplation, forlorn and distraught. He still had the image of Calista in his mind and he shook his head sadly at the thought of what she had become. Next to Briland, she had been the most inspiring woman in his life, and he always believed that she would live indefinitely. Shortly now she would be gone too, lost to the earth forever, her flame snuffed out too soon by evil and corruption.
Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a group of soldiers flocking to the eastern end of the wall, revealing themselves dangerously to the enemy in their exuberance, and he wondered what new horror was about to envelop them. Others joined the group, and soon they were all pointing in the direction of the lake beyond the forest, the Lady’s lake.
Robyn was the first to see it since his eyes were among the sharpest of the group. Under the light of the setting sun, he could clearly see great spouts of water gushing up from the center of the lake. And as everyone watched awestruck, the island that was usually shrouded in fog and mist seemed to rise up out of its obscurity. Its hidden shores broke the surface of the lake and sent massive waves of liquid emanating outward in all directions that gained strength and speed with each foot of ground they covered.
As the island ascended like a new born volcano rising out of the ocean, the trees, grass and earth all fell away into the gushing fluid, leaving a pillar of gleaming quartz exposed for all to see. Geysers were shooting hundreds of feet up into the air and bursting violently into the darkening sky. The lake was seething and bubbling furiously, rising up over its shores and emptying endless gallons of rushing water out of its limitless basin.
Soon Filaree, Cairn and Baladar could see it as well. Water was spilling out more rapidly now, cascading through the trees and down the hill into the gorge below. They could hear explosions also as thousands of gallons of water shot skyward and then landed heavily all around, shattering whatever they hit with the impact. The catapults ceased firing, and the frightened Trolls watched the hills above them, as their panic mounted with each passing moment.
The bulk of the Troll army was camped at the base of the woods with the steep, side walls of the now barren river abutting their backs, in a place that they had believed was far enough from the city to be out of reach of its archers and therefore safe from attack. But the entire force was now directly underneath the path of the rushing water. The seething liquid began to surge over the crest of the hill and to plunge onto the heads of the unsuspecting Trolls below, creating a rapidly flowing waterfall above and behind the Troll army. The deluge was so incredibly heavy and so totally unexpected that it knocked over everyone and everything in its path. The water picked up speed at an alarming rate as it traveled and it quickly enveloped the entire army and sent it hurtling headlong down the valley.
An endless, invincible torrent of water continued to gush over the hill, building in speed and intensity, flooding the ravine and turning it into a turbulent river once again. The high sides of the gorge contained the surging flood, while the rising water washed away everything it came into contact with. It carried the instruments of war and the warriors themselves down the valley, broken and drowning in the heaving current. It slapped up against the very walls of Pardatha themselves and soaked the soldiers on the battlements in its wake, though its main flow reached no higher than the middle of the battlements. The city appeared to be floating, perched upon a hillock— a solitary haven amidst a now watery grave.
The water continued to flow unhampered for what seemed like an eternity, clearing the battlefield like a wet cloth swiped across a tablet of chalk, washing it clean. All of those atop the battlements could see the water shimmer and glow as it rushed past the city, and many could swear that they saw vivid colors streaking through the muddy morass, sparkling and glimmering below them as it coursed past. It looked to some as if a long train of gossamer silk was being pulled down the valley and spreading out in the murky water beneath the walls of the city.
Baladar stared at the gushing stream and he too saw the ribbons of light radiating beneath him, the colors so characteristic of Calista, his revered Queen, and he said a silent prayer for her, the Lady of the Island, the guardian mother of Pardatha. He mouthed a hushed farewell to her, as the mesmerizing colors cascaded by and disappeared into the greater flow.
Just as suddenly as it began, it ended. The water ceased to rise any longer, having completely emptied its fount upon the world. The lake settled down upon itself until it was as calm as a pond on a wind free day. What remained erect was only a solitary summit of beautiful rose colored crystal protruding above the now still surface, which diffused the light from the setting sun into hundreds of rainbows that danced and sparkled magically across the walls of the city. And then a strange calm overtook the valley, and shortly the noise of the water rhythmically sloshing from bank to bank was the only sound to be heard.
All traces of the mountain Trolls were gone and washed away forever. Baladar stood atop the walls of Pardatha flanked by Cairn of Thermaye, Robyn dar Tamarand and Filaree Par D’Avalain. With their arms entwined, standing shoulder to shoulder, they surveyed the battlefield, and four pairs of hopeful eyes looked out at the water, but saw far, far beyond.
Epilogue
During the next few months, the city and its surroundings experienced great changes. The water receded somewhat, but the river continued to flow beyond the walls of Pardatha. Lake Everclear became a place of serenity and calm where people went to meditate and worship, and the great forest surrounding it grew thicker and more lush with each passing day.
Lord Baladar, Lady Filaree, Robyn, Cairn, Prince Elion, Tomas and Preston spent many hours and days communing with each other, learning what they could, solidifying their relationships and strengthening the friendships that would prove later on to be so important to the future of their world. They could be seen taking long walks throughout the city and the surrounding hills in pairs and in small groups, and they were all greeted warmly and respectfully by everyone they met.
Spring brought with it an abundance to the landscape that Pardatha had not seen for many tiels. Fresh growth sprouted everywhere, particularly on the banks of the newly formed river, and the formidable trees that now divided the plains from the hills beyond, continued to blossom ceaselessly, and they grew denser and thicker with each passing day. The barrier that they formed became a shield against the enemy from the south as well as a place of comfort and safety for the people of the city. The petals from the ever-blooming flowers fell like snow flakes upon the moist and fertile soil and created a realm of fantasy for the young lovers of the city, a place to which they flocked; a place of beauty, love and peace. Small boats could be seen upon the young river almost all the hours of the day, and the citizens of Pardatha were immersed in a new sense of tranquility that they had sorely missed and now greatly appreciated.
The pillar of quartz that stood as a monument to Calista of the Island, radiated a myriad of dazzling colors during the daylight hours, and it was a beacon upon the calm waters of the lake, reflecting the moonlight during the dark hours of the night.
Cairn, Filaree and Robyn planned their trip to Lormarion, and they decided that Prince Elion would guide them, accompanied by Tomas, Preston and Calyx, naturally. Baladar reluctantly relinquished the golden ring that Calista had endowed with the power to awaken Davmiran, into the care of the Prince of the Southern Elves, the only other member of the party who knew Davmiran personally and the one who had unwittingly saved him from suffering the ordeal of the recent battle.
The Lord of Pardatha did not feel that he could abandon his city for as long as it would be necessary to train and educate the heir, and he felt that his rightful place was with his people. Elion was honored by the responsibility, and he promised to guard the ring with his life until his return to Seramour where he would use it to bring Davmiran Dar Gwendolen back into this world that needed him so much and waited so patiently for his return. They all pledged to come back to Pardatha with the twins as soon as they could, and it would be from here that they would plan and begin their quest in search of the First and the Gem of Eternity.
Baladar made his strange and wonderful birds available to his associates so that they could communicate with their loved ones back home. Word was sent to King Treestar and Queen Elsinestra that their son was safe and that he would be returning to Seramour with his new friends. Baladar received a reply from the Elfin nation that expressed both gratitude that all turned out as it had as well as hope for the future. Davmiran was safe and healthy, but he remained oblivious to all that occurred around him despite the best efforts of Elsinestra in her capacity as his healer. They waited in the Heights anxiously for their son’s return.
One afternoon, when the sun was high in the eastern sky and the people of Pardatha basked comfortably in its warmth, a group of Dwarfs appeared on the hills behind the city, led by a strong looking man with a dark, braided beard, woven with silver threads, that hung almost to the ground before him. The leader beat upon the hard stone with the hilt of his heavy axe and announced his presence to the city.
Brimgar Daggerfall was reunited with his son Preston in the presence of his new friends, and he was told of his recent exploits as well as of his future plans. The young Dwarf had gained an honest sense of confidence since his encounter with Tomas, Cairn and Calyx and he had matured into an admirable young adult in this short span of time. His father looked upon his son with a new respect and a growing pride, and he assured him that his physical stature would never again be spoken about with anything less than the highest of regard. Brimgar was welcomed into the city, and he spent a fortnight communing with Baladar and the others and spending some much needed time with his now distinguished son. When he departed the city, he left with his pledge of support for the new alliance solidly on the table, along with strong words of love and encouragement for his son and his son’s companions.
Filaree sent the sad news of Cameron’s death back to her mother in Avalain, and she promised to return home as soon as she was able to, though she advised her mother that it would be some time before that would be possible. Queen Esta responded with words of her undying love, and placed no filial or emotional demands upon her daughter, other than that she not allow her grief to harden her heart. She promised Filaree that the city would set aside a day of mourning in honor of Cameron, and that his sacrifice would be remembered always. She affirmed her and her country’s commitment to the alliance and vowed to do whatever was required to help defend against the encroaching darkness.
Robyn dar Tamarand spent a quiet and solitary afternoon in deep meditation, linking with Promanthea and communing with him in his own unique manner. His tree still radiated strength and vitality, and his fears that Promanthea would succumb to the despair that took the lives of his brethren were temporarily assuaged. He then communicated through his relic briefly with his father in order to ascertain his state of health and to reassure him of his own.
His father notified him that inquiries had reached him from the western Elves, specifically from Alemar, daughter of the Alpen King, as to his whereabouts and his well being. Robyn declared his love for his father in no uncertain terms, and he asked him to reply to the Elves on his behalf and advise them of the developments in the south, and to tell them that he would visit as soon as time and circumstances permitted.
He also urged his father to remain ever vigilant and to not allow his countrymen to despair, despite the continuing demise of the trees. He requested of his father that he inform the people of the struggle in the south and of the efforts that were being made on everyone’s behalf to eradicate the pestilence that had stricken the land, in the hope that this knowledge would help to strengthen and maintain their resolve.
Cairn and Calyx spent their leisure time walking through the forest above the lake and gazing upon the crystal as often as possible. For the first time since he departed his home, Cairn spread out his game of life and studied the pieces, learning what he could about the events to come, speculating and devising, analyzing and planning, examining the contingencies and deducing the possibilities therefrom. All those he cared deeply about were here with him in Pardatha, and Calyx aside, he felt blessed by his new found friendships, particularly Tomas’.
Tomas and Preston had a brief opportunity to be boys once again. They frolicked in the hills above the city, swam in the warm waters of the river, fished, laughed and genuinely enjoyed their respite from the stress and strain of the trying weeks that preceded this hiatus. Tomas’ green eyes glittered with life, and he seemed to grow in strength and beauty with each passing day. Preston, perhaps due to the good food and the exercise, also continued to grow, although to his own chagrin, mostly in height. It seemed as if he was destined to be the tallest Dwarf ever to come out of the Thorndars
Baladar spoke with each of his charges, advising them and cautioning them, teaching them what he knew of the legends and the words of the Tomes of Caradon, and he repeated to them all that he could of what Calista had imparted to him. He entrusted the powder of creation in confidence to Cairn, telling him of Calista’s words and enjoining him to guard it with his lifeblood and to use only on behalf of one of the heirs, and then only if the situation was one of life and death. He imparted to them all the knowledge that he could about Colton dar Agonthea, and the mind of this monster as he understood it.
Baladar assured them all that he would work ceaselessly during their absence to learn whatever he could from the great books and histories, and that he would communicate with them whenever possible. He was torn between his responsibilities to his people in Pardatha and his imperative to prepare the heir. But, he knew in his heart that he was not meant to be a principal player in the game that was now beginning. He had enacted his part in the casting and in the calling, and now it was time to pass the torch on to the others.
Baladar was never more confident in anyone or anything as he was in this diverse and extraordinary group of individuals. He knew that Briland too would have agreed with this analysis, and he believed that her essence was still present in this world in some form or other, and that the goodness and strength that characterized her very being would accompany the two boys, and all of the others, on their perilous and all important journeys to come.
They all lingered in Pardatha a little longer than they knew they should have, savoring the days and the fleeting last moments, while relaxing as best they could. Everyone knew when it was time to leave and they barely had to discuss it. Early one morning, just before the leaves began to turn and the fall winds began to blow, the group of adventurers assembled in the courtyard of the castle with their bags packed and their horses saddled and ready.
Baladar joined them in this pre dawn hour and bade them all an emotional farewell. He had made certain that they were well provisioned, and he took great care in seeing to their travel needs. The trip to Lormarion would not be a difficult one, and it was understood that they would communicate their progress along the way.
When everyone was mounted and ready to go, Baladar led them to the open gates atop Porta and he watched intently as they rode toward lake Everclear, up and over the ridge above the newly named River of Tears and then through the forest on the opposite side. He stood there unmoving until they disappeared from view, and then he turned Porta around and walked solemnly back through the Noban gates, overcome by emotion, knowing that a great age had ended, and certain that a new one had already begun.