Twinsoul, Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Illusion     

                            

The going was slow at first for Evandel, Bargo, Deida, and Zaken as they trekked through the western parts of the Elderwoods toward the caves in the hills.  The part of the woods near the elvish settlements was safe enough, but beyond that there were all manner of creatures that made their home in the deep, dark places of the forest, many of whom would find a foursome of adventurers a delightful meal. 

Fortunately, Bargo and Deida were well suited for travel here from the numerous times they had been on duty this area.  Deida had led several excursions into the gnolls’ territory, and knew all the best places to enter from.  Bargo was used to dealing with a larger unit, but he knew the area well from his mission with Deida and remembered the spots gnolls tended to frequent in the forest, and where to go to avoid them.  Zaken lent his hand and instinct to the intricacies of making their way quietly and leaving no trace of their passing.  The last thing they needed was a band of gnolls tracking them down and slitting their throats while they slept, giving their quest an abrupt and untimely end. 

Even with their expertise, it was slow going.  The trees were thick, and very little light got through the dense canopy.  It seemed longer still to Evandel, as he thought of what happened the morning he set out on his quest. 

Since Arthil had not forbid the other priests from speaking of the truth of the ceremony, all of the town was talking about it by nightfall.  In a gesture of warmhearted well-wishing typical of the Treehome Village, most of the town had shown up to see off the quartet of questers.  Prayers were spoken, tears were shed, and wishes of good luck were imparted to the four people setting out to save the village, if not the world. 

Both Deida and Bargo saw their parents before they began their journey.  Even Zaken shared a hug with his foster father, a display of affection that the stern man normally would not have made in public.  Arthil had shown up to send off his adopted grandson, but Siali had been absent all morning.  She had not even been in the house when Evandel had woken up that morning. 

To his surprise, he had been spoken to privately by Talhaias, of all people.  In the short time Evandel had known the priest he had perceived him to be cold, aloof, and austere.  Whether that had been a farce or not, the elf had transformed before Evandel’s eyes during their short talk.  With pleading eyes and strained voice, he had begged Evandel to come home from his ordeal, for the sake of his mother.

When Evandel asked him what his stake in his return was, Talhaias looked at him sincerely, saying, “Because if you break her heart, I shall never forgive you.”

Evandel could only blink his poor confused eyes.  Talhaias had went on to explain that he had been seeing Evandel’s mother for three years, shortly after he had come to Tyhal from Fisathvanna.  Siali had promised not to tell her son, for worry that she would disrupt his studies.  Talhaias had apologized for the secrecy, for his earlier behavior, and for Siali’s absence.  It seemed that the whole situation was tearing her apart, so she had retreated to Talhaias’ residence.  The meeting had ended when the priest told him that he hoped for Evandel’s return himself, so that they could start their relationship again on better terms.

Evandel’s mood seemed to shift even as he walked down the trail leading to the hills.  Sometimes he was excited at the thought of having a mother and a father waiting for him when he returned home, other times he resented his mother’s decision to keep him unaware of her intentions.  He was quiet and withdrawn throughout the march, though none of the others seemed to notice, at least until the second night out from Tyhal.

Evandel was the first to watch that night, since he needed uninterrupted sleep to use his magic properly the next day.  He hardly noticed when Zaken had come up beside him to relieve him for the night.

“Ev? You still with us?” Zaken said, prodding his arm.

Evandel shook his thoughts away, and nodded.  “I’m sorry.”

“Something’s bothering you, I can tell,” Zaken said, leaning against a tree.  He took out one of his two curved short swords and a whetstone, and started to work out the burrs on the blade.  At the same time, he fixed Evandel with his pale eyes, as though trying to read his mind.

“It’s nothing,” Evandel started, but Zaken pointed the whetstone at him.

“Never lie to a better liar, friend,” Zaken warned him.  “They always know when you’re hiding something.”

Evandel shrugged.  “There’s not much to say.  Talhaias talked with me before we left.”

“About him and your mother,” Zaken finished for him.

“By the Five Stars!” Evandel nearly shouted.  “Was I the only one who didn’t know?”

“Alright, calm down,” Zaken said, waving his hands to silence him.  “I happened to hear you and him talking.  I think you’re mom’s heart was in the right place, doing what she did.  She did have the best of intentions after all.”

“Yes, well, good intentions pave the winding path to the Darkplane,” Evandel grumbled.

“Don’t be so upset,” Zaken told him.  “You need to think of this in a much more positive light.”

“How?” Evandel said cynically.

“I don’t have a clue,” Zaken said simply.  “You need to figure that out yourself.  I do know that none of what’s happened recently has been fair to you, and I have a new respect for you with the way you’re handling everything.”

Evandel shrugged again.  He hadn’t really thought of recent events as unfair, but they had been taxing.

“However,” Zaken continued, replacing his first sword and drawing his second blade, “This is not a time to be thinking of things that bother you.  Either put it into a less depressing perspective or forget about it.  Any other option will make this whole trip arduous.”

Evandel thought for a moment.  “It would be nice, I guess,” he said, the phantom of a smile coming over his face, “having a mother and a father waiting for me to come back.”

Zaken grinned.  “That’s the spirit, buddy.”  He pocketed his whetstone, took out his other sword and spun both of them around in his hands before sheathing them, flowing from one motion to the next.  “The path is set before you, and adventure is on the horizon.  You must doubt not, just run into the blinding light to seize your glorious future.”

Evandel thought for a moment, then said, “That sounds familiar.  Where’s it from?”

Zaken shot him a wry smile.  “It’s the Glory Seeker’s credo.  That’s the adventurer’s guild I belong to.” 

Evandel nodded approvingly.  “Good words to live by.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Zaken said, waggling his finger at him.  “It’s the only way to live.”

Evandel thought long and hard on those words before he finally fell asleep that night.

******

The next day brought a thunderstorm that woke up the entire group.  Despite the cover provided by the leafy ceiling, the rain was pounding down hard enough to drench the four friends.  Evandel helped them all dry off by magically pulling the water from their clothes, and helped to keep them from getting soaked further by creating a broad, concave disk of water above him, keeping the rain from ever getting near them.  Today he was confident and spiritually strong, and his demeanor seemed to lift the spirits of his friends.  Today he really felt like a part of the team.

The third day of their march proved to be uneventful, and they made terrific progress.  By the end of the fourth day, they were sleeping out under the stars in the rolling hills of the gnolls territory, not even three miles from the caves Poerna had mentioned.  Evandel spent a long time awake, staring at the stars, for he was too restless to sleep.  Thoughts of the day to come caused a great deal of excitement to stir within him.  They would be in a damp, cold cavern, searching for an artifact that would help determine the fate of the world.  The mere thought of such adventure sent his heart racing in anticipation.

Sleep eventually found him, followed by dreams of high adventure and great discovery.  He woke the next morning in terrific spirits, eager to move on.  His friends were glad of his change of spirit from a few days earlier, but Bargo warned him that they were still in dangerous territory, and gnolls almost never took prisoners.  This advice gave the half-elf better perspective, but did little to quell his bubbling energy.  If gnolls were to attack, Evandel was more than ready to show them what a sorcerer was capable of in battle!

They found the cave easily, nestled at the foot of a cluster of hills.  Evandel could tell just by looking that if this was the right cave, it more than likely went fairly deep under the hills.  In front of the cave mouth was a barren looking area with a fire pit dug in the middle, spring grass poking up through the beaten ground. 

“I’ve been here before,” Deida said, a frown crossing her face and darkening her bright red eyes.

“You have?” Evandel asked, rather surprised.

“Yes,” Deida responded, crossing her arms.  “I don’t think this is the right place.”

“Why?” Zaken asked, his tail twitching.

“It used to be a gnoll supply cache,” she said.  She pointed to the fire pit.  “That’s the campsite where the guards were.”

“Used to be?” Zaken asked.

Deida smiled wryly.  “Right up until the Kathilasi heard about it.”  Zaken shared her smile, surmising her meaning.

“So there’s nothing there now?” Bargo said, scratching his head.  “Is there any other place we could look?”

Deida shook her head.  “Most other caves in this region are already in use,” she said.  “The ones that don’t house gnolls are far too shallow to hide anything but rabbits and foxes.”

Evandel thought about it for a moment.  “Let’s look anyway,” he suggested.  “There might have been something you missed.” Deida gave him a questioning look, and it was his turn to smile wryly.  “I don’t care how good the Kathilasi are, nobody is perfect.  After all, you weren’t looking for anything but gnolls.  There’s a very good chance you passed over something because it wasn’t part of your mission.”

Deida shrugged.  “We won’t know unless we look.”

“Let’s get on with this then,” Bargo said, lighting a torch and making his way to the entrance.  The others followed his lead, ready to be on their way.

The cave started off in a sloping tunnel, which led to a large cavern, empty and silent.  The four split up and each started exploring a different corner.

After only a few minutes of searching, Evandel could tell something was amiss.  There was a vague energy in the air that he could not describe.  The roof of the cave was clustered by stalactite mounds, but the floor was almost completely smooth.  Scant traces of supplies the gnolls left behind were scattered about the floor.  The walls were roughly hewn, jutting out and forming small alcoves, but it was still easy to see everything.

Then it struck him.  The entire cave was visible to him, even from the corner he was standing in.  He canceled the light he had cast on his staff, and even then he could make out the forms of his friends, as though peering through dim twilight. 

“Ev, are you alright?” Zaken asked from across the room.  “Your light went out.”

“I’m fine,” Evandel said.  It then occurred to him that Zaken was not carrying a torch or any other light.  “Where’s your light?”

Zaken shrugged, and Evandel could see his tail twitch in the dim light.  “I can see fine in the dark.”

The sorcerer looked to Deida and Bargo, who were both carrying torches.  “Deida, Bargo, put out your lights.”

The two eyed him curiously, but obliged him.  Deida waved her hand over her torch, and it snuffed out, all the air removed from nearby.  Bargo simply dropped his to the ground and stepped on it liberally.

Yet with all the light sources doused, they could still see each other.

“What the . . .” Bargo said, scratching his head.

Deida looked up, as though the light might be coming from a crack in the ceiling.  She suddenly cried out, then pointed to the roof, her eyes amazed.  Evandel followed her gaze and saw exactly what she was looking at.

Softly glowing stalactites.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Zaken said, chuckling.  “That’s something else.  This must be the place.”

“Yeah, but where do we go from here?” Bargo asked.  “There’s no way out except the way we came in.”

“Just leave that to me,” Evandel said, raising his staff.  He had done magical purges before, and had fared well in his dispelling classes, but he did not know the nature of this magic.  The process was easy if it was merely illusion covering the walls or a transformation on the stone, but something told him that it could not be something as simple as that.

He activated his aura sense, but to his surprise found no magic.  No matter where he concentrated, there was no magic to be found.  Even the stalactites had no magic.

No, that couldn’t be right; he knew those had magic in them.  He could even sense it without his aura detection active.  There must have been something blocking his detection magic.

An idea struck him, and he scanned the ceiling again.  Most of the stalactites were typical stone mounds, nothing out of the ordinary.  One cluster stood out among the rest, the highest up on the concave ceiling, right in the center.  It was the largest cluster, but it did not seem as though it belonged.  Squinting in the dim light, he could make out a crease between the base of the mound and the roof of the cave.

“We need to break that down,” he said, pointing to the faulty stalactite. 

“Uh huh,” Zaken said wryly.  “How do you suppose we do that, genius?  Your water magic is strong, but that’s solid stone.  We’d need an earth principle to even try it.”

“What am I, gnoll droppings?” Bargo protested.

“No offense, big guy, but you don’t have any aura magic,” Deida said.  “You’ve been magically dry ever since you were little.”

Bargo grunted, and took his large, two handed sword from his back.  Deida instinctively backed up, but he paid her no heed, walking closer to the middle of the room.  Once there, he grasped the hilt underhand, holding it like he would a javelin.  With one swift motion, he launched his blade up to the top of the twenty foot ceiling, embedding it deep into the stone.  The shock of the sword striking the false stone proved too much, and it crashed unceremoniously to the cavern floor, echoing loudly in the chamber. 

After the echoes died and the dust cleared, Bargo moved to the pile of debris and retrieved his sword.  “I learned a long time ago that you don’t need magic to do everything.”

“I stand corrected,” Zaken said, bowing before his friend. 

Bargo nodded, and brushed off his blade.  He looked at the debris, and said, “Hey, this isn’t rock!”

Zaken moved over to the pile, and inspected a larger shard of false stone.  “This is gnomish plaster, good for imitation rock, mixed with . . .” he paused, squinting in the dark.  “I’m not sure what else is in this.”

“How’d you know about that, Ev?” Bargo asked, but his friend wasn’t listening.  His ocean blue eyes remained locked on the top of the cavern, an amazed smile on his face.  Bargo looked up with him, and his jaw dropped.  In the place where the fake stalactites hung was a cluster of a different kind, a vein of silvery white crystals.

“What is that?” Deida asked, transfixed by the glow.

“Just regular crystal,” Evandel said.  “It’s been enchanted.”

“To do what?” she asked.

“My guess would be to keep the other stalactites lit up,” Evandel said, raising his staff again.  “But I don’t think that’s all.”

He reached out his aura sense tentatively, careful not to be overwhelmed in case the crystal’s aura proved too much.  Now he could feel very powerful magic emanating from the entire room, save from the pile of rubble on the floor.  He focused on the crystal vein, one of the largest sources of light magic he ever sensed.  He began to draw the magic out, using the water in the air to act as a magical sponge.  Soon, the crystal’s shimmer seemed to expand into the air around it.  Just as quickly, it dispersed in a flash, leaving the room in darkness.

“Way to go, Ev,” Bargo said sarcastically.  “Now we can’t see anything.”

“Well that’s easy to fix,” the sorcerer replied, putting light back on his staff’s crystal. 

What he saw was a completely different chamber.  The floor was a crystal and glass mosaic set into white stone.  Gone were the rough hewn stone walls, replaced by marble and crystal slabs, with great silvery white crystal arches where bunches of crystals hung down, in the same areas as the glowing stalactites. The crystal vein he saw earlier was actually more of a fixture on the ceiling attached to a metal base, like a chandelier. 

“This is not normal,” Zaken said.  “Did you accidentally teleport us?”

“Teleporting is a little out of my range,” Evandel answered.  “No, we’re in the same place; the tunnel we came in from is over there.”  He moved to the wall across from the tunnel, to find a great door marked with the grand cross, the symbol of Alaron.  “And this is the way in.”

 “How did this happen?” Deida asked.  “Why did it transform?”

“It didn’t transform,” Evandel explained.  “We were being fooled by the illusion magic in the crystal.  There’s such a thing as a tactile illusion, where the bent light can actually be given texture and a semisolid form.”

“You’re saying that the entire cavern was made of light?” Bargo said, scratching his head again.

“Sort of,” Evandel said.  “It’s a little more complex than that, but that’s good enough for now.”  He tapped his staff against the door.  “Let’s figure out how to open this, shall we?  There’s no knob or anything.”

“Just leave that to me,” Zaken said.  “I’ve gotten into places with bigger doors than this.”  He produced a steel ring with what appeared to be several different keys, and started examining the door.  He ran a finger down the crease between the two doors, and then placed one of the keys inside near where he stopped his finger.  He pushed it in gently, and twisted the tip.  Slowly, the doors creaked open.

He held up the ring of keys and smiled.  “Urdez’s Unlockers,” he said.  “They were a gift from the Mistwatch thieves’ guild.”

“Right,” Deida said.  “I bet they only ‘gave’ them to you because they don’t know you have them!”

“Not yet, they don’t,” Zaken grinned.  “I wish I could see their guild leader’s face when he notices these are missing!”

They went through the now open doors into a sloping hallway, darkened as the last room was.  The walls were plain stone instead of marble, but several of the chandelier-like fixtures adorned the ceiling.  The hall continued down for some distance, never veering from its slope or direction.  Evandel led them on, but did not like the fact that there was no light in a temple that was supposedly devoted to Alaron. 

The end of the hall resulted in an archway that gave way to a long, expansive chamber marked by a pedestal in the center and the largest chandelier structure yet hanging from a ceiling too distant for Evandel’s light to reach.  The four once again split up, each to investigate a section of the room.  Zaken made his way across to the far wall, insisting that he could see fine.  Deida and Bargo set to exploring the other two walls, and Evandel found himself drawn to the pedestal.

The first thing he noticed was a glyph chiseled into the top of the pedestal, one that he could not decipher.  It was an exotic twisting figure, but resembled no character in any language he ever heard of.  At the same time, he felt like he should know what it meant.  Ringing the top was a phrase written in common: The truth is unseen to all who cannot believe the unbelievable.

Evandel thought on this phrase for a long time, until Bargo and Deida came back from their searching.

“Nothing on my end,” Bargo reported.

“Same here,” Deida said.  “What have you found?”

“A headache,” Evandel replied sarcastically.  “I’m not sure, but I think this is just decorative.”

“Have you tried touching the rune yet?” Bargo suggested.

“Please,” Deida sniffed.  “It wouldn’t be something that simple.”

“Well, just in case,” Evandel said, lifting his hand up to the rune and setting it down gently.  Nothing happened, and all three of them exhaled. 

Just before he lifted his hand again, Evandel noticed the symbol on the back of his hand was throbbing.  He looked closer at the twisted rune and noticed that basic shape of Taelri’s symbol could be traced within the glyph. 

Something clicked in his mind, and he wanted to slap himself for being so blind.  “Believe the unbelievable, huh?”  He muttered, sliding his finger in the grooves of the rune.  The outline of Taelri’s crystal eye symbol began to glow with faint blue light.  Looking closely, he also found the shape of the grand cross of Alaron and traced it, lighting it with a brilliant yellow

“Hey, I get it,” Bargo said, and traced his finger in the shape of a bear paw print, the symbol of Kumadan, the god of the earth, making that symbol glow golden brown.

“Really? … fine, sure,” Deida said, shaking her head and tracing the open wing symbol of Pelyphis, the wind goddess, and creating a silvery white glow.

“That leaves . . .” Evandel traced Faarthus’ symbol into the rune, lighting it a smoldering crimson.  They waited, but nothing happened.

“That’s weird,” Deida said.  “We got all of them, didn’t we?”

“Well, yeah, except Forgotten,” Evandel said, remembering the lost god of darkness.

“How are we supposed to know the symbol for a god nobody’s worshipped in centuries?” Bargo asked.

Evandel shook his head.  He could see that there was a line that was still untraced, but parts of it weaved in and out of the other five symbols.  They only way to solve it would be to actually know what the symbol was.

“Everyone else finished?” Zaken said, coming up to join them.  “I found the door, I think.  My keys did their job, but there’s nothing beyond it save a very far drop.”  He looked at the symbols on the pedestal.  “What’s all this?”

“It’s a glyph that combines the symbols of the gods, but we don’t know the last one,” Evandel said.  “You wouldn’t happen to know Forgotten’s symbol, would you?”

Without a word, Zaken traced his finger around a path on the glyph, setting a purple light in the shape of jagged, asymmetrical dagger.

The rune flashed, and all of the other lines except the ones that constituted Alaron’s symbol disappeared.  A light blazed from the pedestal to the crystal chandelier above, and the entire room was engulfed in radiance as though the sun itself shone from above.

“So that’s what makes those come back on,” Zaken said, ignoring his friends’ disbelieving stares.  “I bet all the other ones are lit up, too.  Let’s go check the door again.”

Evandel shook his head, and followed his friend, whose mysteries were beginning to compound themselves. 

The door Zaken led them was indeed a drop off, but now that there was light all about, they could see a set of indentations that started at the edge of the drop and went all the way to the floor.  On the opposite wall was a series of lanterns that housed glowing crystals instead of candles.  Evandel understood that they were now much deeper than he originally thought they might go, and began to suspect that this was not an entire temple, but perhaps a catacombs or an understructure of some sort.

At the foot of the drop was another archway, leading into a cave-like chamber that appeared to be made entirely out of crystal.  Instead of crystal lanterns or chandeliers, the room itself seemed to be glowing. The far end from where they stood featured a pair of roughhewn crystal archways.  Between them was a ten foot tall statue of an angelic guardian figure, clad in full plate armor.  A great stone spear was held upright in its mailed hands, speaking of a patience and vigilance not known to the mortal world. 

“Wow,” Deida said, eyes glittering with the shimmering crystal around her.  “I’ve never seen this much crystal in one place before!”

“Are you sure it’s crystal, and not just another illusion?” Bargo asked, looking to Evandel for confirmation.

“I think we’re past the part where the makers of this place needed to disguise it,” Evandel answered.   He reached out his aura sense, just to humor Bargo.  “No, this is genuine glowing crystal.”

“You mean no tricks at all?” Bargo asked.  Evandel nodded, and the big man’s eyes went wide.  “Wow, no wonder this place is sacred to Alaron.”

They walked across the room to the archways, but Zaken stopped in front of the guardian statue.  Evandel turned to him when he stopped, seeing the apprehension in the man’s pale blue eyes, and his tail seemed to quiver uncontrollably.

“What is it?” Evandel said, stepping closer. 

“I should not have come with you,” Zaken said, his voice wavering as he drew his swords.  “I’m not wanted here.”

“What are you talking about?” Evandel started to say, then turned to the statue and paused.  Hadn’t the sentinel been looking forward, not down?

Without warning the guardian stepped forward, its limbs creaking to life.  It angled the spear at the thin man, and spoke in a deep, grating voice, “Soracht!  Hevonis soracht!”

Hearing the commotion, Bargo and Deida rushed back into the room.  Bargo drew his sword, and Deida took her bow off her shoulder and notched an arrow in one fluid motion.  Evandel could only lift his staff and prepare for the worst.

The guardian poised its spear to strike the man before it, but as the tip closed in an orb of water collided with it, driving it aside.  An arrow bounced off its stone helm, then two more crossed in front of its face.  When it turned toward the source, Bargo dashed forward and swept his blade at the back of the sentinel’s knee. The impact knocked the guardian’s feet from under it.

“Let’s go, now!” Bargo shouted, pointing to the archways. 

The four of them scurried out of the room, even as the animated statue picked itself up.  They followed a short hallway to another crystal cavern, split by a vast gorge.  Spanning the gorge were four glass-like bridges with no rails that weaved over and under each other, splitting off in various directions, some ending abruptly and others curving up at angles that were impossible to climb.  At the bridge’s end stood another archway, sealed off with a crystal gate.

“What was it saying?” Evandel asked.

“Traitor, Heaven’s Traitor,” Zaken said solemnly.  “It means me.”

“Why?” Evandel said.  “What have you done?”

“Not what I did, what I am.”

“What . . .”

“How many other people do you know are born with tails?” Zaken asked, sheathing his short swords.  “I’m not human, Ev!”

“Then what are . . .” Evandel started, but a memory flickered to life in his mind, from his planar studies classes.  “You’re a tiefling, aren’t you?”

Zaken smirked wryly.  “Half-demons, darktouched, The last scar of the horde, nightmare children, or yeah, you could use that one.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Bargo said.  “We wouldn’t have cared!”

“I couldn’t let anyone know, friend,” Zaken said.  “If anyone outside the village found out I lived there, zealots and demon-haters from all over would burn me at the stake and set fire to Tyhal for housing me.” 

“But you haven’t done anything wrong,” Evandel said.  “You’re as innocent as any of us!”

“It must be programmed to attack anything that even remotely resembles a demon,” Deida reasoned.  “We slowed it down, but it won’t be long before . . .”

“Sorachtes!  Osala sorachtes vi hevonis! Vamore!” the sentinel bellowed from down the hallway, its steps crashing on the ground like thunder.

“What now?” Evandel asked, backing away.

“It’s calling all of us traitors now,” Zaken said.  “I guess if you help a demon, you’re just as bad.”

The group started for the bridges, just as the sentinel crashed into the chamber. 

“Split up!” Evandel called out.  “All to a different bridge!”  Just as he commanded, they scattered, Zaken taking the far right, Deida taking the far left, and Bargo and Evandel taking the inner left and right bridges respectively. 

Evandel looked over his shoulder as he ran, eying the movements of the sentinel.  It stopped before it got to the bridges, which seemed too thin to support its weight.  A flicker of hope sparked in his heart, and hoped they confounded the guardian.

That hope was snuffed out as the stone wings on the sentinel’s back unfurled and magical flight took it flying after Zaken.

“Zaken!  Look out!” Evandel shouted.  Zaken seemed well aware that the construct had followed him, and with great agility darted under an overhanging bridge as the sentinel passed over.

Onward they scurried over the enmeshed walkways, moving as swiftly as they could while simultaneously trying not to fall over the sides.  Evandel watched as Bargo reached his bridge’s end first, and Deida shortly after him.  The half-elf had taken a path that had sent him under most of Zaken’s bridge, and so was able to keep an eye on his friend’s progress as he followed his own way to the end.

Zaken’s tenacity was incredible.  He sprinted from shelter to shelter, from overhang to opposite bridge with the swiftness and lightness of a spring zephyr.  He narrowly missed being skewered by the sentinel’s spear several times, but with each time he became wiser, avoiding the same sort of situations. 

Evandel looked ahead and saw Zaken’s path split, a low road and a high road. Slightly ahead he could see a bridge that curved up at a right angle, one of the impossible climbs.

“Take the low road!” he called out.  “I’ll meet you there!” 

Zaken nodded as he leapt from his hiding spot, dashing for the low road.  Evandel hurried along his walkway until he came to the spot he had seen the paths diverge.

They doubled back on themselves! The low road was the one that headed for the impossible climb, not the high road!  He started to call out again, but he watched as Zaken sprinted down the low road.  Flustered, Evandel rushed on, hoping he had not just led his friend to his death.

******

Zaken cursed as he watched the path before him start to climb out to the erect part of the bridge.  A quick look behind him told him he did not have enough time to think again; the sentinel was hot on his heels. 

He started to spring over to the other side, but a quick look down the way told him that was futile as well; the bridge on that path had been broken off.  Any way he went, his path ended before the goal.  He quickly surveyed the other bridges in the area, and formed a plan. 

Using all of his skill and agility, he made a mad dash for the erect bridge.  He leapt at the upward bent path, and focused his aura to his feet.  Concentrating with all his might, he pushed up instead of forward with each step, climbing in what looked like a vertical run up to the top of the dead end bridge.

The angelic sentinel slowed and eventually hovered in front of the spire-like bridge.

“Your tainted soul must be cleansed, traitor,” the sentinel demanded, its spear poised.

Zaken, balanced perfectly on the edge of the twisted bridge looked down to affirm his path, and gave a sly smile as the sentinel closed.

 “Fool.  Tieflings don’t have souls.”

He thrust his hand forward, loosing a black bolt on the sentinel’s face.  It reeled backwards, and thrashed forward meaning to impale the dark man.  It instead crashed into the upturned bridge as the foolhardy tiefling leaped off into the darkness.

******

Evandel felt his breath leave him when he watched Zaken leap from the spire into thin air.  With no time to concentrate on levitation, he could only watch him plummet.

And land on the bridge behind him.

A part of Evandel wanted to strangle Zaken for being so reckless, and another part just wanted to cheer for such a spectacular stunt. 

The dexterous rogue rushed forward, and smiled at his friend.  “That darkness won’t faze him long, we need to get moving.”

Evandel nodded, as though automated, and followed him down the final stretch of the bridge.

Bargo slapped Zaken on the back, laughing heartily, and Deida let off a continuous stream of berating about how stupid he was and how he could have been killed, then settled down and threw her arms around him and admitted that she had never seen anything so incredible.

“What about the gate?” Zaken asked, gently pushing her away.

“There’s an indentation like a handprint,” she said.  “We tried it, but nothing happened.  I think it needs Evandel’s hand.” 

Evandel nodded and started forward, but then turned as Bargo gave a warning shout.  The sentinel was flying straight for him, its spear set to impale.  It was moving too fast for him to do any casting, so he just lifted his staff in a vain effort to deflect the crazed construct’s weapon.

A split second later, Evandel stood, wondering why he hadn’t been skewered.  The spear was stopped before it reached him, but not by his staff.

Zaken stood, swords crossed, between him and the sentinel, the tip of the stone spear poking out his back.

“I guess I needed to be more firm,” Zaken growled between clenched teeth.  His swords emanated dark energy, and he flung them into the sentinel’s face.  The blades embedded themselves up to the hilts, and the sentinel dropped its spear and just seemed to halt.  With no magic left to keep it aloft, it crashed on the ledge, and slipped into the abyss.

Zaken toppled backward awkwardly, and Evandel caught him before he fell.  He guided his dear friend down to the floor, realizing just what had happened.  Tears began to well in his eyes, and all the rest of the world seemed to fade away.  He barely heard Deida’s cry, or Bargo’s roar of defiance.  His eyes were fixed firmly on the now incredibly pale man dying in his arms.

“Told you I shouldn’t have come,” Zaken hissed through clenched teeth.

“Don’t talk,” Evandel whispered.  “Deida can try to heal you.”

Deida was already rushing forward, and in moments she knelt beside them.  She weaved the air into his wound to try and staunch the flow of blood, but she shook her head.  “I can’t do it, the flow is too strong!”

“Keep trying!” Evandel nearly shouted between his tears, but Zaken raised his hand.

“Don’t worry about it, Ev . . . I’m done.  I did what I wanted to here, and I’m ready to go.  This is nothing to cry about.  I’ve been ready for a long time, actually.  It comes with the trade.”

“Zak . . .” Evandel sobbed, as though pleading his friend to stop.

“There are some things you need to hear, and I don’t have long.” Zaken reached to his belt, and drew out a black bladed dagger, the same shape as the symbol he drew on the rune.  “This is a key to something very important.  I stole it . . . from the Faarthusian orcs.  They want it for something . . .  I thought I might try to get there first.  But now I know what they’re planning, and it doesn’t look good.  I don’t know if this has something to do with the dawn crystal . . . I’d rather we didn’t find out.”

He handed the dagger to Evandel, who took hold of it tentatively.  Zaken’s other hand held his firmly, and his eyes spoke of urgency.  “Do not let them have this, Ev!  Keep it safe at all costs, and stay away from Faarthusia . . .”

“I will …” Evandel said, choking on the promise.

The tiefling leaned back, letting go of the sorcerer’s hand and smiling as the light left his eyes.  “I’m glad I met you all.  Maybe I do have a soul after all . . .”

The silence that followed was more than Evandel’s heart could bear.  He did not weep; Zaken had asked him not to.  Instead he placed the dagger in his belt and closed Zaken’s eyes.  He looked to his remaining friends. Bargo had closed his eyes, and seemed to be praying.  Deida seemed to be simply staring sadly into the distance.  They had seen death before on the battlefield, but Evandel could tell this had truly shaken them.

A curious strength crept into his heart, and he stood up.  He knew that he must go on, for the sake of his friends.  Bargo and Deida looked to him as he stood, and he nodded to them.  He walked up to the gate and pressed his right hand into the handprint in the center of the gate.

The crystal dematerialized at his touch, opening the way to a small stone chamber that was lit by a single crystal above an altar.  Upon the altar was a pendant, or at least half of a pendant.  It was a piece of ivory in the shape of a half-sun set with ambers, hanging from a thin gold chain.  The flat edge of the pendant was ridged, and looked as though a second half was meant to be attached.

“That must be the Sun Symbol,” Bargo said quietly.  Evandel nodded, and approached the altar.  He reached out for it and closed his fingers around it.

No sooner than he touched it, a blinding light surged into his mind.  He closed his eyes, tried to look away, but the light was all consuming, and he felt himself falling.  Soon after, he felt a presence in his mind, not unlike telepathic contact.

“Greetings, Evandel of Tyhal.  I am known as Warrane, leader of the United.”

“You’re the leader of Unity?” Evandel asked.

“Yes, young one.  Long have I awaited you and your allies.  I am at once glad and troubled that you come; troubled that the prophecy has come to pass so soon, and glad to see that you are willing to rise to the challenges that now await you. 

“You must be off soon, Deepseeker.  The artifacts you seek are wide and far upon this land.  The Serenity Sapphire is kept in a place of great knowledge.  The Stone Bracers are held by a denizen deep within the Urdor Mountain.  The Wing Circlet can be found where the sky and earth are as one.  The mists of the gnomes’ homeland hide the home of the Moon Glyph.  The Fire Hand resides with a saddened soul deep in the heart of Faarthusia.  Go to them, and find the one who shares your fate.  Together, with your friends, you may give our world its second chance.”

Images of the artifacts whirled around in Evandel’s mind, and he could feel himself rise again into the real world.  He stood as he once did, with his fingers gripped tightly on the Sun Symbol. 

“Evandel?  Are you okay?” Deida asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.  “You seized up all of a sudden, like you were in pain.”

“No, I’m alright.” Evandel said.  He put the Sun Symbol's chain around his neck, and turned to his friends.   “I think we need to get a move on.  We have a very long way to go.”