Revival

     The sun had already set upon the Valley of Gales by the time Lemine and Faro arrived. Not sure what the exact time was they hurried along the edge of a stone path through the moonlight. Twigs snapped under their feet softly as they ran. A cold breeze sent a chill through their faces, but their long cloaks managed to keep them comfortably warm.
          Having done their research, the couple knew the Duzee air temperature had begun to drop drastically. Winter months in the wind burdened country could kill somebody if they weren't careful. As far into the country as they were it wasn't a surprise that they hadn't encountered anybody along their path, and the few they had almost run into were soldiers.
         Faro stopped moving suddenly and grabbed Lemine's arm, holding him to her side. Turning her head to listen for a sign that somebody was nearby they waited. Pulling the man further off the trail they sank to the ground near a tree and waited. As three armed guards appeared over a nearby hill Faro could hear Lemine whisper 'Thank you' into her ear.
         She answered him with only a faint, almost nonexistent, nod. Unlike the younger, more immature Lemine, Faro had prided herself on her ability to sneak, and steal. When she partnered up with the ambitious Fatir runaway it had been as a last resort. Many of the other thieves she had encountered hadn't wanted anything to do with the much less experienced thief. In an attempt to earn some credit the two decided to pull of a job that nobody had dared attempt, or survived to tell about.
         Faro had been a native of the Duzee nation from birth, and the oldest memory she had was of her sitting in front of her grandfather, and him retelling a story his grandfather told him. If any of those stories were true than she would get a payoff so large everybody would have to accept her skills.
         With the guards finally out of hearing range she stood and waved Lemine to follow. Soldiers were the only problem they were going to have. There was only one way into this valley, and it was guarded by men with orders to turn everybody who entered away. If she was spotted this close to her goal they wouldn't hesitate to pursue and execute them both.
         Continuing down the road the two rounded the corner the guards had appeared from, and found themselves looking down upon what they had both come to find. The cliff face was steep but it would be possible to climb down. Protruding from the earth was the massive Temple of the Six. A smile spread across her face as she pointed to it. Lemine nudged her with his elbow playfully.
         Starting their climb down to the temple they moved slowly, fearing to set rocks falling to the ground below, and alerting any guards. It took almost an hour for them to reach the soft grassy ground beneath the cliff, and their arms were screaming in pain. It hadn't taken long for Lemine to begin flopping his hands around wildly, probably in an attempt to regain feeling in them.
         A movement from nearby stopped Faro's heart. Two guards rounded the corner casually and were moving in their direction. Grabbing her partner's arm she slammed him back against the cliff face and fought to hold him their. Struggling against her grip she drew a slender knife from within a sleeve and held it to his neck. Normally she wouldn't have drawn a weapon in fear of it reflecting the moonlight, but before leaving for the temple it had been dyed black, just in case.
         Feeling his resistance stop, she lessened the tension between the knife and his neck, but didn't remove it. Now only a few steps away, Faro could smell the two men, and wasn't happy about it. Hoping they wouldn't put a lot of effort in to searching for intruders so close to the Temple paid off when they didn't look in her direction as they passed.
         A few minutes passed and she dropped her knife and gave Lemine a punch in the face as payment for almost getting her killed. Dropping closer to the ground they began to run in a crouch. Following the two soldiers that had walked past them, the two thieves watched as they made their way around the temple, and eventually, reached the front. With only one way in or out of this massive building she knew it was only going to have a few guards patrolling the area.
         As they approached the front, two guards stood besides a small fire, warming themselves against the chilly winter air. Exchanging a casual greeting as they passed, the men they had been following disappeared into the darkness created by the fire. Giving Lemine the signal to drop quitly, they slowly put themselves onto the ground and crawled towards the entrance.
         Firelight blinded the two men and, even though while looking at the entrance, they couldn't see the two shadows inching their way inside. Not wanting to draw attention they stayed on the ground till completely sure they wouldn't be seen. As they rose from the stone floor they both smiled widely, and shook hands.
         "Where too know?" Lemine whispered in the darkness.
         "I'm guessing we need to get into towards the center of the temple, and probably up a few more stories." Faro didn't really know where to go from there but it was the best bet she had. Whatever was being hidden within the temple wouldn't be on the same floor as the entrance. Beginning their search, she walked casually down the hallway, making sure to keep a hand against the wall as a guide.
         "What do you think is inside this place? Something this size needs to have a purpose." His voice was filled with the promise of gold, and she couldn't deny that her mind was beginning to follow a similar path.
         "There as lots of different theories as to what lies within the walls of the Temple of the Six. Some think it's just a monument displaying the power of the ones who created it. Others think it's a place they keep millions of pounds worth of gold."
         "Why would they put that much money in one place?" Lemine laughed at the idea, and even she thought it was a bit ridiculous.
         "Well, It's been said that during the Great War all of the Elemental Masters placed a bet on who would win the war, and the money they bet was kept here."
         "Wouldn't they want to keep it in a neutral place, and not within one countries borders?" Lemine had a point, but nobody really knew what was within the temple. Everything she had heard was just speculation and rumor.
         "Like I said before, it's all just rumor. If somebody really knew what was here than our jobs would be easy." Turning a corner Faro tripped on a step. Grunting in pain she picked herself up and began climbing the steps. Without being able to see it was impossible for her to tell how far the stairs climbed, or if they were even going in the correct direction.
         Hoping she had picked the correct path they just continued to walk. With time the stairs ended and they emerged into another hallway. Guessing they had been searching for almost an hour now she was amazed how large the temple actually was. Thinking back on their journey since entering the building something made her feel off.
         "Lemine, have you felt any other passageways since we entered this place?"
         "No I haven't. I've kept my hand on the opposite wall from where you are and I haven't felt anything."
         "Does that strike you as odd? A building of this size couldn't only have one way to go."
         "What else do you think it could be?" Concern filled his voice and she didn't need that at the moment. Deciding it would be better to just drop the subject all together she just let the silence answer her.
         The hallway narrowed and the thieves were forced to walk in a line. Silence dampened the air around them. Faro didn't want to think about the meaning of the temple anymore but it kept pulling at her thoughts. During her grandfather's stories he had mentioned a man who had fought during the Great War. He was so powerful that when the masters had finally managed to defeat him they entombed him deep within the earth and forgot about him. It finally clicked in her mind and she realized that she was standing inside a prison.
         Having an enormous building of solid stone would make it impenetrable from the outside. With only a few guards it would be possible for them to hold off a much larger force until reinforcements arrived. Realizing that, even if the stories were true, the man would have to be hundreds of years old by now, and would be dead. Pushing the though from her mind she laughed at herself for even thinking it.
         A light in front of them pulled Faro out of her thoughts and she began walking faster, in an attempt to find out what it was. Lemine was close behind her and humming to himself playfully. Emerging from the long hallway their mouths dropped open. Having been within the darkness for so long neither of them had expected what they now saw.
         Hundreds of torches lit the room from all sides. A marble walkway rose up from the floor and towards a platform about fifty feet above. Lining both sides of the walkway were massive statues of five men and a woman. None of them wore similar clothing, and from what Faro could tell, none held the same lineage either.
         "What is this? I hadn't expected this to be inside the temple." Lemine was awestruck, and so was she.
         "I don't know, these statues are strange too. I can tell that one is a master from how he is dressed, but I don't know about the others."
         "That one over there is a Fatir Master as well. I've seen his picture before. He was one of the Six who fought during the Great War."
         "So I'm going to guess that all of these are Masters. We need to get to the top of that walkway and find out why they're leading up to it. Whatever is up there has to be what this place is hiding."
         "I agree, let's go find out what our prize is." Making their way up the platform the eyes of the Six followed them, judging them, and warning them. As they walked a large blue ball had become visible in the distance. With every step, more of the strange mass could be seen, until they were standing in below it. Between them and the opposite side of the room was a hole they couldn't begin to hope to bridge. Unable to get any closer to the ball, they fought to see it better.
         "Hold on, let me see if I can do something." Closing his eyes, Lemine stood in the darkness. With all of his faults and shortcomings he made up for it with this. It was rare to find somebody with is particular skill set where she was, and it was a welcomed change when she stumbled upon him in a bar.
         Reaching with his mind, Lemind grabbed hold of a nearby torch and pulled the flame to him. The smile on his face was illuminated by the small ball of fire floating in the air in front of him. With his ability to control the flames, Lemine moved them closer to the ball that was embedded into the temple walls.
         "I think that's sapphire!" His voice was filled with so much joy it bubbled over.
         "We still can't get to it Lemine, and even if we could it would be impossible to remove something that size from the temple."
         "If we break of a small piece we could carry it out, and even that would make us rich!" Unable to argue she gave him her consent and let him go to work. The flame moved towards the suspended ball and began to melt away the surface. By the time he had been able to cut a few inches into it he was sweating heavily. Faro hadn't known controlling an element would use so much energy.
         As the ball of fire began to grow, she could see Lemine struggling. "No, come on, hold it..." Growing larger more of the jewel began to crack.
         "You're ruining it! Don't try so hard!" Raising both of his hands, Lemine put all of his energy into trying to control the growing flames.
         "I can't! I'm losing my hold of it!" Finally exhausted he fell to his hands panting. Shock froze his face in fear. "Why isn't the fire dying?" Now covering the entire blue ball, cracks began to snap onto the surface. Chunks fell away and air hissed from the heat of the fire.
         A large piece of the ball fell free and shattered on the marble below. A shard managed to bounce to Faro's side. Picking it up she could only feel a coldness that didn't come with a sapphire.
         "This is ice." An explosion echoed through the cavern as something fell free from the ice. Marble shattered under the weight of a man, who had landed on one of his knees. His muscles looked ready to explode from under his skin. A strange tattoo covered his body from neck to feet, and was only hidden under the tattered remains of pants. Black hair draped down over his face, hiding his features.
A loud clang made her jump. Something else had fallen from the ball of ice and had landed next to the strange man. Moments of silence passed before he began to move again. Slowly reaching out and picking up the object that had landed next to him, she could see that it was the handle of a sword.
         Thrusting the blade of the sword into the marble floor, he used it to lift himself to his feet. As he moved, his hair brushed away showing his face. In her life she had seen many men that could seduce a woman with their good looks alone, but none of them compared to this man. Under different circumstances she would fall for somebody as handsome as he was, but even with all his beauty, something about the darkness in his eyes told her to be careful.
Finally on his Faro could see Lemine's shock, he was nearly a whole head taller than her partner. Everything about the man was formidable, but at least they were separated by the hole in the floor.
         Turning his eyes toward the ceiling a strange smile crossed his lips. Lifting the massive sword he had picked up he slashed horizontally towards the ceiling. Everything began to vibrate as a black light hit the wall above them, tearing the temple's ceiling apart. Boulders smashed smashed into the marble around them as the ceiling began to cave into the temple. The night sky was now visible, and she couldn't imagine what he had done to blow a hole of that size in the ceiling.
         With some effort the man began to run towards the edge of the cavern and jumped. To their surprise he left the ground and flew out through the newly created hole in the ceiling. Losing sight of him in the night sky, they turned to run towards the doorway. The eyes of the Six cried out in pain as they crumbled. Large cracks ripped the beautiful floor apart, forcing them to jump to different landings on their way down.
         Lemine reached the door to the temple just before she could. A large boulder tripped her, sending her tumbling to the floor. Winded and tired, she fought to get herself back to her feet. Having noticed that he was alone, Lemine turned to come back for her. Fighting to get to her feet a slab of marble broke away from the walkway and fell onto her leg, crushing it.
         Pain ran up her body and she screamed. Trying to pull her free Lemine entered the collapsing room again. With everything she could muster she pushed the man back into the hallway, saving him from a boulder that landed where he would have been standing.
         Faro began to shake violently as shock set in. Her thoughts ran to the fun times she had as a child, stealing from vendors in the Nivged streets and flirting with the older boys. A sad smile crossed her face when she thought of her parents and how she had left without saying goodbye.
         "I guess I wasn't a very good thief after all." An awkward chuckle escaped her throat. "I had better get credit for discovering what was inside this place." As she began laughing at her own joke a larger boulder crushed her back. Boulders continued to crash to the floor as blood soaked Faro's lifeless body.

Massacre

        A cold breeze forced the fire to dim as it battled against the night air. Two of the roaming guards who had been patrolling the outskirts of the temple had completed another circuit and neared the warmth of the camp. This would be the last night of their rotation out at the temple of six and he wanted nothing more than to be home with family.

        "Shouldn't stare at the fire for so long Marut. It will take a long while before your night eyes return." Marut had heard this speech nearly fifty times since they had started their rotation almost a week ago. The much older man had served untold years within the Duzee army and was well respected by many of the armies moderately known officials.

        "Gomda, you've told me that almost every hour since we started working here. Nobody comes out here. Getting through all of the patrols and the encampments would be impossible. Nothing could be worth the risk of fighting through the hundreds of men that block the valley."

        "You don't know what lies within this temple, yet you believe it's not worth the risk of losing even a few hundred men to obtain?" Gomda had an annoying habit of trying to teach lesson's every time he spoke. With only a few hours until the new guard arrived, Marut was happy that this would probably be the last time he saw the man.

        The Temple of six was a few hours walk from the Duzee capital of Nivged, and crossed a mountainous region that provided very little shelter and even less places to build a long standing settlement of any kind. This dangerous terrain forced the Duzee nation to live mainly within the protective walls of Nivged, making the total population of the city well over two million people.

        "This temple is almost three hundred years old. Anything of value most likely vanished by now, or is entirely unusable." Making it known that the conversation was over, Marut started fiddling with the handle of his spear. A strange silence rested in the air, and was almost as loud as the crackling of the fire.

        "I understand that my speeches can be overbearing and annoying. This time tomorrow we'll all be well on our way back to Nivged. Our replacements are most likely at the outpost near the entrance of the valley already. After they move in and take our post we can march back to the capital and hopefully never come here again." 

        In a few hours the sun would rise and the new guard would take over. Restlessness had been rolling through their ranks like wildfire over the past few days. Soldiers became comfortable with the job and began showing up late for shifts. Just the night prior Gomda caught a young guard sleeping while he was on sentry duty.

        Marut didn't believe that sleeping on duty was acceptable, but he didn't share Gomda's belief that danger lurked around the corner to strike at the lonely three century old temple.

        The flames flickered but there was no wind. A feeling of stress filled the air as the two men caught glances from one another. Marut watched his friend try and speak but no words escaped. Other guards began approaching to see what was wrong, but even they couldn't make any noise.

        All at once the sound returned as an explosion from within the temple sent large slabs of boulder flying through the night sky. Screams filled Marut's ears when the falling debris began crushing soldiers. Flames from the fire spread from the fire and into the nearby grass as a stray boulder struck the fire. 

        Panic scattered their senses and everyone ran. A loud thump brought Marut's attention to a man who was rising from a small impact crater on the ground. Even though his face wasn't visible he could feel his piercing stare. His heart was beating rapidly within his chest, and was felt near to coming lose.

        Finally standing at his full height, the imposing man was almost a head taller than Martu. As imposing as the man already was it became when he started walking towards them. Once the light of the fire illuminated his body it became clear that this was dangerous.

        Strange vine like tattoo's covered every part of his body except his face. Without any clothing except the remains of tattered pants, they could see every muscle on his body. From the man's hand they could see him holding tightly to the hilt of a sword. Tracing the sword back to where it started he was shocked at it's size. It couldn't be feasible to handle such a large sword effectively in combat.

        Gomda lifted his spear to the man in an effort to make him stop. Martu was still to frightened to move so he did nothing. More of their men began arriving and forming a defensive line behind Gomda. Ever last person was determined to hold back the man who was feared enough to imprison under thousands of tons of stone for the last three centuries.

        Nothing was making sense anymore, and when he felt his own sword leaving its scabbard he thought he was going mad. As petrified as he was there was no stopping his own body from reacting. In moments everyone was rushing the dark man screaming. 

        The next few moments flashed by faster than Martu could comprehend. Bodies began falling to the ground covered in blood as the giant black sword cleaved men apart effortlessly. Pain shot through his body as his arm was severed at his elbow. The blow cut into Martu's leather armor but didn't cause worse injury. 

        Plain luck had saved him. That blow cut through two other men before being stopped by his armor. Before he passed out he was forced to watch the man plunge his sword through Gomda's stomach. Only a few more hours till daylight and they would have gone home.

Escape

            Pain shot through his legs as Lemine collapsed to his knees. Punching the newly collapsed wall he fought to remove the stones, attempting to get to Faro. Deep within his mind he knew it was hopeless, but he couldn’t force himself to stop. Anything that had been inside that room would have been crushed under the weight of the temples ceiling.

              “Who the hell was that?” The face of that man was burned into his mind. Lemine doubted he would ever be able to forget it. This temple had been designed to keep him trapped inside its walls, yet he managed to escape with almost no effort. Remembering the strange sensation of having his fire pulled away from him was almost as troubling as the strange man’s escape.

              A loud crack brought the young thief back out of his thoughts. With the limited light inside the tunnel he couldn’t make out what the noise was. When he heard the noise again, and then a third time his heart began to beat faster. Removing one of his gloves he reached towards the spot he had heard the sounds and searched in the darkness.

              Passing over a large crack in the stone walls of the hallway he realized what was happening. Before he could pull his arm away another crack spread underneath his hand, confirming his fear. The shock to the temple and the collapsing center had caused the entire building to become unstable. Unable to hold back Lemine started running through the darkness.

              Loud snaps and pops echoed from the walls and floors. It had taken him over an hour to reach the center of the building and he wouldn’t have that much time to escape. In the darkness it would be much more dangerous while running, especially when he reached the stairs they had climbed when they first arrived. One miss placed step and he would fall down thousands of stairs.

              From behind Lemine could hear the stone ceiling of the hallway beginning to collapse. Moving into a full sprint he was forced to ignore the burning in his legs and lungs. Reaching the stairs he began skipping multiple stairs at a time, fighting to keep a good pace. Dust had begun rolling across the floor from the collapsing structure.

              As it began weakening further the ceiling began to fall in larger pieces and soon the floor was beginning to give way under the weight. The vibrations were shaking his legs, causing him to stumble into the walls. Cursing under his breath he kept running.

            Faro had always warned him that he needed to work on his running but he never bothered to listen. He wouldn't have much longer before the structure gave way entirely. With a deep effort Lemine pushed his pain aside and kept sprinting.

            The pathway flattened as the winded thief reached the bottom of the steps. When he had entered the temple the stairs seemed to be needlessly deep within the structure. Now they were a sign that the exit was close and escape possible. 

            A surprising turn in the hallway forced Lemine to take a sharp left. Part of the archway near the front of the temple had collapsed. With no place to run he stopped and fell to his knees, fists pounding against the solid stone.

            Tears rolled down his cheeks as he tried to catch his breath. The throbbing in his legs became worse once he stopped moving. Deep cramps were already beginning to set and locking his legs uncomfortably in place.

            Within the depths of his mind he could feel the heavy burning of a nearby fire. As a flame elementalist he had a strong connection to fire, and when it was necessary, he could force the energy of the flames to follow his will.

            A moment of silence filled the strange winter night. The building had temporarily stopped collapsing, and Lemine thought of a plan that might get him out alive if he was fast enough.

            Forcing his mind to relax he concentrated on the fires burning brightly outside. Under normal circumstances Lemine had problems making flames listen to him, and these were hardly normal circumstances. Stress and distractions made controlling his gift much harder and he was far from talented.

            Most flame elementalists considered the awkward man to be no more than a disgrace. The nation of Fatir was proud of their shifting prowess and most of its citizens laughed openly at such weak elementalists. Only a year earlier Lemine had suffered his last insult from his fellow countrymen during a duel with a child and fled his homeland.

            The disgrace might not have been so severe if the child hadn't been seven, or female. At nearly twenty it should have been no contest, but the young royal publicly humiliated Lemine. Not even two hours later he had packed a his few worthwhile possessions and began his journey to start a new life.

            His will finally took control of the fire and he began pulling it closer to him. As it struck the outside wall it focused it into a small area, burning away a small hole in the wall. Smoke filled the enclosed hallway as the fire burned closer. Cracks spread through the stone face and began crumbling away.

            When it was weak enough to break he picked up a large piece of the wall and readied himself. Counting down to one he threw the stone through the weak wall, breaking it apart. Without any support, the ceiling began collapsing. No longer holding back, Lemine threw himself from the temple and landed in the cold Duzee air.

            The chill of the night air stung his face but he didn't mind. Cold dew dampened his clothes and chilled the back of his neck. It had never felt so good to be cold before. A grunt of pain left his throat as he pushed himself onto his elbows.

            Littering the ground around him was the bodies of the soldiers who had been guarding the temple. Nobody was left alive. Falling to his back he watched the stars glittering peacefully in the sky. It was so beautiful and strangely out of place among the slain.

            Soldiers could be heard rushing closer to him in the distance. The gates to the valley were a good distance away and it would have taken them a considerable amount of time to reach him. Lemine had not realized how long he had been laying there staring at the stars.

            As the men approached he made no attempt to resist. Muscular arms picked him up and dragged him through the countless lines of men. When they had finally dropped him to his knees he realized he was kneeling before someone.

            With more effort than it should have taken Lemine looked up at the man. He had never personally met the tall thin man in front of him before, but that didn't mean Lemine didn't know him. His long black hair flowed gracefully over thin shoulders and gave him a feminine look. A long white and green coat protected him from the cold Duzee air as it snapped against his calves in the wind. 

            Silver eyes looked back into his and in that moment something became clear to the simple thief. Whatever Faro and he had released from the Temple of Six was of a enough threat that one of the six elemental masters had come to deal with the problem.

Icile

            Sudden warmth snapped Reinhardt out of a cold sleep. Every muscle in his stomach contracted and lifted him from his comfortable resting place. Eyes still blurry from sleeping, he couldn't make out anything any details around him. 

            The ground beneath his body was gently swaying back and forth in an almost rhythmic pattern. Placing his hand on the floor he traced the lines of the floor, guessing them too be wooden planks. A nearby horse let out a loud sigh and then another. Somehow Reinhardt had been picked up and placed onto a carriage.

            "I'm glad you're finally awake, we were worried that you might never get up." Even though Reinhardt couldn't see whoever was speaking he could tell that it was a man speaking, most likely elderly. He was sitting somewhere nearby, probably near the only candle lit in the room.

            "Thank you for waking me...and giving me a bath at the same time." As sore as he was it felt good to be sarcastic again. How long had he been out?

            "You were so cold and you wouldn't wake so I decided that some heat could do you some good." The old man sounded sincere, if not just a bit amused with his actions. It had been a long time since Reinhardt heard another person’s voice, so many years.

            "What is your name, old man?"

            "I'm Edward Gardener."

            "Entalian? Are we on the Greater Expanse?" Since his eyes were still blurry he closed them, letting them rest. The back of the carriage was warm and sheltered from rain or snow. It felt strange too be moving around freely again.

            "You know your nations well, large man. I am a lower caste merchant from Ental, but we are not on the Greater Expanse, we happen to be on the lesser, Icilee to be more specific." The two major continents on the planet were the Greater and Lesser Expanses. All six nations held portions of what used to be the Erauvian Empire, even if they had been divided by millenniums of war.

            "Icilee? Last I remember I was in Duzee. How did I end up back here?" Reinhardt's memory was foggy but he remembered bits and pieces of a fight...no a war. How long had he been asleep?

            "My family and I found you a few weeks back lying face down in the snow near the mountain borders between Duzee and Icilee. We picked you up and brought you with us. I have very limited knowledge in healing so we kept you warm and decided it was best too bring you too a family friend. She's a healer in Ela Meda, the capital of Icilee."

            "I used to live here in Icilee, I know what Ela Meda is, though I have never been there myself." Just the thought of the capital city made him angry. Within the heavily fortified city lay thieves, bandits, and worst of all, the elementalists' serving their corrupt master.

            "We all guessed that you came from the area. Icileans are often times far larger than those from Duzee, and from the looks of you... there was no possible way you could be from the mountains." The old man wasn't making a joke. Reinhardt knew he was heads taller than the average Duzee man, but even for an Icilean he was tall.

            With effort he opened his eyes again and saw that they were beginning to regain focus. The old man sat beside a small table that had a large candle sitting on. Flames flicked every time the carriage bounced. A soft glow illuminated everything around them, setting what Reinhardt felt was a relaxed tone.

            At first glance even he could tell that the man was not a low caste merchant. Everything in the room was decorated with bright colors and decorative designs. Even though the lighting made everything look dull, it was clear that everything was new and expensive. Edward Gardener was not a simple merchant.

            "You have mentioned your family a few times Va'yas Gardener. Are they nearby?" The formality of the question took the old man by surprise and he let out a throaty half cough laugh. 

            "You have it wrong Icilean, I am not of the Va'yas. I am merely a Ras, lowest level of traders in the empire. Thank you for the promotion, it was a kind gesture." With a move of his hand he pushed some cloth aside and waved someone inside. All of the rocking movement stopped and a few moments later an elderly woman made her way inside the carriage. Her smile was looked genuine but Reinhardt could feel that there was something else hidden behind it. 

            "This is my wife Mabel, she helped me get you into the carriage, but it was my granddaughter who first spotted you. Violet! Please come here." Unlike the older woman, Violet wore a long dark purple robe that shrouded her face in a dark shadow. She made her way directly to the corner of the room and sat, not letting the light touch her face.

            "Please excuse my granddaughter, she is shy." The old woman, now looking worried, excused herself and left the room. Moments later the carriage began moving again, slowly creaking its way down the road.

            "I have yet to get your name, young Icilean." Finally able to see clearly Reinhardt sat up. Looking around some more he saw a pile or rags nearby. They were probably his clothes from when they found him. He didn't remember what had happened before he woke here in the carriage but he was beginning to remember small details of it all. 

            "My name is Reinhardt."

            "Okay Reinhardt, it's nice to finally meet you formally. Tell me more about yourself. What was someone like you doing in Duzee, and in that condition?" Reinhardt could tell he was searching for something. Between his actions and that of the older woman he knew something wasn't quite correct.

            "The last thing I remember was a war. I was near the capital city of Nivged and..." nearby Violet stood abruptly and made her way to the door. Edward gave a smile of apology and followed her out into the night air.

            Finally alone he looked himself over and was surprised to see his entire body was covered with vein like tattoos. Memories of fires and the sound of screams flooded his head. It took some time before it all died away but when it finally subsided he was sweating and cold.

            The carriage came to an abrupt halt and Reinhardt could hear people yelling outside. With great effort he lifted himself too his knees and then his feet. It had apparently been a great deal of time since he used his legs, they shook from being tired already. Pushing the heavy cloth away from the entrance, the tall Icilean ducked through the doorway and walked into the chilly night air.

            People were running around in panic. They frantically scattered from an unknown threat. He hadn't realized that they were actually part of a caravan that was moving through a forest down a large, well-used trail. Fires began springing up nearby and the screaming grew more intense. 

            Blood began to splash onto the ground as bandits flooded into the caravan, cutting fleeing people down in large groups. Just before the tree line began a figure dressed in a dark robe watched Reinhardt. Its gaze had fallen upon him and refused to break. There was intensity too it that he couldn't understand, it was so unknown, yet familiar. Before long the granddaughter Violet turned and vanished into the darkness of the woods.

            Reinhardt looked around but couldn't see the old man or his wife anymore. Had they already been killed or did they get away? They had been acting so strangely and something about them just hadn't sat well with him. At any rate they didn't matter anymore.

            Turning back into the carriage that carried him the past two weeks he grabbed his tattered clothing and put it on. With a smile he picked up the pieces too the armor he wore on his left arm. Memories flooded his mind of the tool, picking fruit with the blade. As each piece fit into place he flexed his arm under its familiar weight. The Dragons Tail was rusted and beaten, but it was his most dependable weapon.

            "It's been too long my old friend. Let's go see what these bandits want." As Reinhardt walked towards the doorway a strange feeling overcame him. With the limited time he had, he searched the carriage. At first it was no more than a desire, soon it was a panic, a need to find something. Reinhardt didn't know what he was searching for but it became clear too him that he wouldn't be able to leave without it.

            As he began moving towards the next chest to begin his search again he felt a floor board shift slightly under the heavy leather of his boots. Crouching down, he touched the wood and watched it move. This had been the spot he was laying on earlier. It was a clever way of hiding something important.

            Slowly ripping up the boards he exposed a hidden compartment built into the floor. Within rested a sword unlike any Reinhardt had seen before. The long blade black blade soaked up all of the light near it, reflecting none from the metal surface. 

            A strange familiarity filled him as the dread of searching left him completely. This is what he had been looking for, and with the unique weapon now in hand he turned to the door and once again walked into the darkness of a cold night.

Fires in the Night

 

            The scent of smoke filled the air as fires burnt through the canopies of many of the caravan’s wagons. People were still screaming as riders on horseback rode them down, silver blades flashing against the darkness of night. It didn't surprise Reinhardt that bandits would openly attack such a large convoy. When any group of merchants this large traveled they were at risk, and with the lack of armed personnel this would have made a great target for criminals.

            Nobody seemed to have noticed him yet so he took the couple of seconds he needed to figure out where he was. The old man had been correct, they were definitely inside Icilee. Tall dark trees bordered each side of the trail they traveled, branches growing wildly down their trunks and branching out, creating a shield against wind and ice. This unique species was only seen in this part of the world, and coveted due to their smell, which was sweet.

            No snow had fallen this far south of the mountains yet but it wouldn't take long before the seasons turned. Icilee spent nearly three fourths of the year covered in snow, with the only respite being a three month season that barley passed for a spring in other parts of the world. It was a tough place to live but the constant supply of ice created a natural weapon for those that lived here.

            A man on horseback caught sight of Reinhardt and began riding towards him. At first glance he must have thought they knew each other but as he rode closer his posture changed and he spurred his horse into a sprint, flames from his torch lighting the man’s face. This man was clearly Icilean, his dark skin and large build gave it away. As he closed the gap between them the rider dropped his torch and drew the large sword that was harnessed to his saddle.

            Reinhardt knew he had little choice but to deal with the man. From his earlier inspection the dragon’s tail was broken, so that left only one option. Ducking under the hurried strike of the bandit, Reinhardt reached onto his back and unlocked his sword. The familiar weight of the weapon fell into his hands, freed of its restraints. With an explosive movement the face of the sword landed against the back of the rider, sending him falling from his saddle. In an attempt to stop himself from falling he braced himself, breaking both his arms.

            His screams almost made Reinhardt cringe. He had been hoping to knock the man out, not make more commotion. The sound of more horses began filling the night. It would be impossible to know how many bandits had attacked the caravan but it would have needed to be a significant number to have been this successful. In a split moment decision Reinhardt slammed his sword back into place and turned to retreat into the woods.

            Movement from the shadows caught his attention as the loud snap of bow strings echoed through the trees. More on reflex than thought he spin, putting the large blade of his sword between him and the quickly approaching arrows. The impacts on his back hurt, even with the improvised shield taking most of the force. Reinhardt took a guess that they were using Icilee longbows. The quality of the bows this iced over country could produce astounded most of the world, and those bows in particular fetched a heavy price during arms trades.

            Horses rounded the burning carriage in number Reinhardt hadn't expected, nearly thirty by his quick count. With a burst of speed he drew his sword out once more, the massive blade blurring as it spun to life. An eerily deep swoosh caused a couple of the horses to balk, sending their riders to the ground. This time no screams could be heard, these few not being inexperienced enough to brace themselves, rolling from the fall instead.

            The foremost rider raised his hand into the air, halting his men where they were. Heavy breathing from around the group told Reinhardt that many were exhausted, cutting down unarmed civilians tended to do that to you. Meeting the eyes of the man he realized that he was also Icilean. His hair and skin was not nearly as dark as those that rode alongside him, but he was almost certainly from Icilee. Those of higher birth, or nobility often did not have the traditional darker skin of those who were forced to work the in the fields as hands or farmers.

            “Sheath your sword!” He commanded. The man’s accent was heavy mixed with that of the Duzee people. This soldier would most likely have lived near the border of the two countries for most of his life. His clothing looked to be softer and more eloquent then those of his peers.

            “I will not.” Reinhardt placed the handle of his sword into both of his hands and readied himself. There was a thick silence resting over everyone. Nobody looked ready to initiate the attack, not knowing what each other could do. Reinhardt was at a slight advantage here. Any arrows fired from behind could miss him and hit the riders in front, limiting the shots the archers could take. At the distance they now stood the horses would not be able to build enough speed to make use of their size. From where he stood he could reach them in only a few steps and the size of his blade would make short work of those close by.

            With some hesitation the lead rider re-sheathed his sword, the others following his example. From the wood line men began to emerge, bows lowered. Some of the tension had been relieved but the archers didn't drop their arrows, nor did the riders take their hands from the hilts of their weapons. Reinhardt placed the large black sword into its place on his back and waited.

            “I am Isolde of the third house, second tier, who are you?” The man was nobility, but a lower class than many others. In Icilee houses were ranked based upon how wealthy they were. If the house was considered of the first, it was considerably powerful. This classification came to those who, in addition to having almost limitless wealth, had a direct line of elementalists within it. Typically this meant that the head of the house, and his heirs, were able to control ice. A house of the third would be in direct control of a province but lacked any elementalists, and did not have the length of time needed to be considered first or second.

            Tiers worked slightly differently than houses, but were far simpler. First tier family members had direct claim to the house upon passing of the current patriarch or matriarch. Second tier members would never, regardless of occurring deaths, be able to hold the legal title as head of the family. They would only be allowed to hold the position until a new heir was old enough to take charge. This man was powerful in the eyes of commoners but was lesser than other nobles. His being in the field working alongside lesser Icileans made sense now

            “My name is Reinhardt.”

            “What house are you from Reinhardt?” The lack of a better explanation annoyed the man that much was clear on his face. Reinhardt was not nobility; he didn't even qualify for a house classification, let alone a tier. He had been nothing but a farmer, considered lower than horses.

            “I have no house.”

            “You are equipped similar to a soldier of nobility. That sword alone must be worth more than several horses.” Isolde didn't understand what Reinhardt was saying, but that was fine, he didn't have to.

            “Why did you attack this caravan? These people were unarmed merchants.”

            “Is that what they told you? This is a slavers caravan; they were traveling to the capital city to sell their…product. I was tasked with securing the roads between Duzee and the capital. Slavery is forbidden here. Why are you traveling with these slavers Icilean?”

            A Lot of time had passed since he had been in Icilee. Slavery was a common practice here during the war, with everyone below the house of ten eligible to becoming bound under the rule of a greater house. Many families had been slain specifically because greater houses wanted their lands and their usable members. At least one good thing had come about after the end of the war.

            “I awoke in one of these wagons after collapsing in the snow near the Duzee boarder. They told me they were traveling to the capital to find a doctor that could look at me.”

            “You were lied too Reinhardt. They would have sold you to make a profit once they arrived at the capital. If we hadn't received word that they were traveling down this road you would have ended up in chains.” This must have been the reason the old man seemed slightly abnormal. Something about him hadn't felt correct; this must have been what he felt.

            “I awoke only shortly before the attack. I was not aware of their intentions, or yours.” Reinhardt figured that treading softly would still be the best option for him at the moment. They may be telling the truth about the slavers but his distaste for the Icilee royalty would surely show if he wasn’t careful. The war may have ended and things may have changed slightly but it couldn't have changed that much.

            “We are heading towards Ela Meda to report this incident to the Emperor. You are welcome to travel with us if you are well enough to ride. Some of our men were killed in the battle, these ‘merchants’ were armed better than some soldiers. Take your pick of the available horses, we leave in a few minutes.” Reinhardt nodded and grabbed the reins of one of the larger mounts. Pulling himself up into the saddle he waited for everyone to begin before he followed.

Darkness Before Dawn

 

              Days came and went as the group of riders and Reinhardt traveled towards Ela Meda. Overall the trip was comfortable, slowly growing warmer as they crawled further south. Isolde has assured him that they only had a few days of travel left, and they would begin seeing signs of the large capital city shortly.

            In his earlier years, stories about Ela Meda made the city sound like a marvelous place to visit. It wasn't until later in his life that the realization set in, it was nothing more than a city full of murderers, thieves, and elementalists. The war brought out the worst in every nation, driven by greed and lust for riches.

            Isolde pulled on the reins of his horse and came up alongside Reinhardt. The man wasn't handsome by most standards, shorter and fuller than normal Icileans. Being in a wealthy family had a way of making people fat. There was a long silence before he spoke but he seemed sincere in his kindness.

            “You’re lucky we found you Reinhardt. If that caravan had arrived at Ela Meda you would have been in shackles for the rest of your life.”

            “I do appreciate not being bound in chains, though I feel if it isn't one form of slavery it will just become another.” Reinhardt remembered the days before he entered the war. It was customary for farmers to be restricted by a boundary restriction, making it illegal for anyone without a permit to travel away from their assigned plot of land. Twice a year the head farmer would be allowed to leave to sell his harvest at market and collect supplies needed for the next months. These restrictions prevented peasants from gathering together and revolting against the government.

            “That is a grim view you keep Reinhardt. Living in Icilee isn't all that bad. The Emperium has been cracking down on slavery and crime out in the countryside for years now. We have made a lot of progress against prostitution and drugs, things are changing for the better.”

            “Some things never change Isolde, greed is one of them.” It didn't matter how hard people tried, they wouldn't be able to break free of their sins. Isolde just nodded in approval, deciding to not fight the matter anymore. He seemed like an honest man, naive but friendly. A few more moments passed in silence before the chubby man spoke again.

            “I have a question for you Reinhardt. If you’re not part of one of the houses what is it that you do? I have never seen someone handle themselves like you in a fight before who isn't a soldier, yet you wear no uniform.”

            “I was a farmer in another life.” The comment brought a look of amusement to the man.

            “Why would a farmer have a sword of that quality hanging around?”

            “I was…drafted… into the war after my family was murdered. I got the sword during that time.” Reinhardt didn't feel the need to elaborate on the details of his times fighting, this man didn't need to know about it.

            “Do you mean the civil war from fifteen years ago?” Reinhardt threw the man a strange look. The war of greed had been devastating to every nation on the greater and lesser expanses. There was no way it could have been classified as a civil war. All six nations fought viciously for control and for money.

            “I don’t remember much before I collapsed, but I didn’t think it was that long ago.”

            “It was just about fifteen years ago, the now Master Joer rebelled against the tyranny of the old empire and took power. Since that day he has done nothing but work to make his reign prosperous and improve the lives of all he protects.” Reinhardt didn't understand any of what the man was saying. Joer was the Master of Icilee during the war as well, how could he have risen into power during the war? “Master Joer stopped the corruption that has plagued the government since the end of the Great War. It was a dark history for Icilee and its people.”

            “The Great War? Do you mean the War of Greed?”

            “I didn't think people still called it that. You must be from the southern part of the country. Word doesn't spread to quickly down there and they lag behind in tradition a bit. The empire before Master Joer took over decided that calling what the Icileans did during the Great War was wrong. They believed their actions were not wrong, go figure. That was fifty years ago I think.” Everything felt like it was spinning out of control now. How long had he been unconscious?

            “How long has the Great War been over?”

            “There are debates about the date the war actually ended, but it is known that it ended roughly around the time Nivged fell. That would have been about three hundred years ago.” Reinhardt’s heart felt like it skipped a beat.

            “I didn't think it had been that long ago. What happened after Nivged fell?”

            “Do you not have scholars where you’re from? This is all traditional history.”

            “No, I grew up on a farm. We never had any traditional schooling available to us.” At least Reinhardt didn't have to lie about this fact.

            “Well after the fall of Nivged they built the Temple of Six. This was a gesture of good faith between all of the world powers at that time. Scholarly books tell us that the world was at piece for a short period of time following this event, but that didn't last. Icilee fell into the hands of a new Master after Joer was assassinated. The Joer who rose to power is a direct descendant of that man, though he changed his real name to help build a following of loyalists.”

            Reinhardt thought everything over for a few minutes. Between the fall of Nivged and his awakening in the wagon almost three hundred years had passed. How could that have been possible? He had so many questions that needed to be answered, but asking to many would raise suspicion.

            “It’s funny that you brought this up actually,” Isolde chuckled to himself before continuing, “The Temple of Six collapsed only a month ago. People are claiming that it was a structural problem, but nobody really knows.” The old man in the caravan said that he found Reinhardt in Duzee at about the same time. Had he somehow been involved in the collapse of the temple?

            “Thank you for the lesson Isolde. It’s odd that nobody ever explains things like this to the common people.”

            “My house has been preparing a caravan of scholars and teachers for just that purpose! You are the perfect example of the people we are trying to help. Soon we will have enough books, scrolls, and workers to bring education to the southern section of the expanse.” Reinhardt admired the man’s enthusiasm, and his love to help people, that was a rare trait.

            A large stone structure began cresting the ridge of the road they were traveling on. The large structure grew slowly with every step, towering over their heads. This was most likely the local security tower for this stretch of road and it told them that they were within a day’s march of Ela Meda.

            As they approached the road split into a large network of trails and roads alike, all heading to different section of the empire. The one road that led into Icilee from Duzee had to reach this point before it split into hundreds of possible paths. Though it seemed like a strange process, this would prevent anyone who was traveling by road from getting into the country without crossing this checkpoint. It always seemed strange to him that they had to travel for weeks on one stretch of road till they could resupply. The first few hundred miles within Icilee were used as a buffer against invading armies, limiting civilian casualties if an assault into the country occurred.

            Even with the limited light of morning Reinhardt could tell the stone blocks of the tower were stained from being in the sun for hundreds of years. Their pale color showed to everyone that approached how old the Icilean Empire was. Little specks of black were scattered across the walls of the tower from repairs being made over the years, leaving newer brick contrasting sharply with the pale larger slabs of granite that surrounded it. There looked to be nobody on the roads, or in the large structure. Isolde looked around concerned, this was apparently not normal for this time of the day.

            “Is something wrong?”

            “Yes there is. This tower is manned at all times by almost twenty men. There doesn't appear to be anybody here, and that’s a problem.”

            “Let’s go take a look around.” Reinhardt pushed his horse a little faster, pulling ahead of the group. Isolde urged his mount to catch up to the much larger Icilean. There was very little noise in the area, even the animals were quiet. An unnatural eeriness rested over everything. Overturned carts littered the road, goods still in them.

            “Nothing was taken.” Isolde noticed the discrepancy as well. Something wasn't right. Reinhardt came to a stop and dismounted. Taking a few moments to look the scene over he searched for anybody, any sign of people. Outside of the tower there was nothing but disarray. Cart carrying goods had been overturned or destroyed, but nothing had been taken. The rest of Isolde’s company dismounted and drew their weapons.

            Reinhardt approached the door to the tower and pushed it open. Blood covered the walls everywhere. Whatever happened here had been a slaughter. Bodies were lying all over the hallway, having dropped where they stood. Deep gashes covered everyone, cut by a very sharp blade. After a few seconds of looking he closed the door and backed away.

            “The only people that killed were soldiers. Whoever did this avoided killing any of the civilians. How many people did you say were stationed here at any one time?”

            “Typically twenty, but that can change depending on needs.” Isolde didn't look well anymore. His carefree face covered with horror and doubt. It would be hard to believe this many people could be killed without any signs of a fight.

            “Has anybody ever attacked here before? How large of a force would it have taken to do this?”

            “There are reports of a few instances where up to one hundred soldiers have been successfully fended off without losing this post. If a hostile force approached it would have taken a great deal of people to take this tower.” Isolde didn't look to be exaggerating any of his facts. The entire tower was backed with hundreds of feet of wall on both sides, and a canyon funneling everybody to this point. There would be no way past here without entering the tower.

            “Somebody wanted to get through this gate, and they cut everyone down to accomplish it.” Reinhardt never took his eyes off the door to the tower. The archway would allow a few people through at any time, but wouldn't let a large force through. Merchants would be able to pull their carts through to the other side of the wall after they were searched, but it was still one at a time. “Does this tower exit onto the top of that wall?”

            “Yes it does.” Isolde drew his sword and pushed through the doorway ahead of Reinhardt. If the main gate hadn't been open during the attack the attackers would have been forced to surge through here, the dead bodies littering the hallway spoke of that truth. Since no other exit to the tower was possible, the assailant would have climbed to the top of the tower, most likely searching for another way through.

            Blood covered the walls and floors as the group of soldiers climbed towards the top of the wall. Bodies became less frequent as they walked, careful not to move to fast and stumble upon an enemy waiting for them. The last door was pushed open as sunlight burst into the stairwell. A figure stood near the edge of the tower. Reinhardt couldn't tell exactly what they were doing but it looked like they were tying ropes onto the supports of the wall.

            The guards spread out and circled the intruder, cornering them against the side of the tower. Without warning the fighter turned, two blades reflecting the light of the early morning sun. To Reinhardt’s surprise it was a woman. Her face was masked below her eyes, but the pale grey of her eyes was an eerie display of blindness. Could this really be the person who slaughtered all of those guards?

            Isolde’s men moved in to halt the woman but were met with the skill of a trained killer. Every strike of her blades was placed with care, drawing blood every time. Men began falling in pairs as she turned her way through a mess of bodies and bloodcurdling screams. It hadn’t taken more than a few seconds of fighting before half of the guards had fallen to her relentless attacks.

            In a moment of panic Isolde struck out against her, catching one of her blades before it cut down another one of his men. Before he could react she was coming for him. Reinhardt watched as she turned and drove the larger of her two swords towards his throat. He would have no time to block or dodge that attack.

            With only enough time for one move Reinhardt freed his sword from his back and closed the distance between him and Isolde. He struck in the blink of an eye. From where he had been standing the woman wouldn't have been able to see Reinhardt approach. An explosion of dust and rock erupted from where she had been standing. The size and weight of that massive sword crushed the floor of the wall, sending cracks out for a few feet from the impact site.

            Dust still filled the air but he could tell he’d hit nothing. As the debris settled he searched for where she had gone. Near the side of the wall he spotted her. She had managed to move back over to the ropes she had been setting when they arrived. No words were spoken but they watched each other. Even though she was clearly blind he could tell she was watching him.

            After a moment of silence she picked up a piece of metal that was previously attached to her waist and linked the rope into it before attaching it to her belt. With one leap she fell back over the side of the wall and disappeared.

Battle of Fatir

More to come

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Bildmaterialien: Michelle 'Misty' Michaud: Thanks for all the help giving me a photo I can actually use.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 30.10.2011

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Dedicated to all of my readers who have been there since I began, Teagan, Ryan, And Tricia.