The Spires of Eight - Chapter III

The world of Alagor falls into chaos and war as the Gods in the Spirit Realm rip themselves apart, the struggle of the spires now befalls upon the mortal land.

The Spires of Eight

Payton Smith

 

Chapter III

 

            The Spires of Eight, originally designed for the heavens in order to help with worship and sacrifice to the Gods and Goddesses, now only served the purpose of mortal intentions. One day the Gods’ wrath will bring their attention to the use of the spire once again. The world would be submersed in a mass war that would destroy all the innocent people, this prophesized by the Mighty King Eldredg of the Earthen Spire long ago now fell upon the people of Alagor.

 

The Earthen Kingdom

 

            Foria peered out a window and viewed the palace that stretched out into a city, then clusters of small villages, and the farm lands and the plains which went further than the eye could see. The people below went about their day without a care of what was taking place in the world. Bells rang in the distance from some of the many temples built scattered throughout the city and into the palace. Foria enjoyed observing how all the marble and hard rock roads connected withed with one another, showing that the spire, the palace, and city were all one giant building reaching out far into the wild plains.

            A wooden door slammed behind Foria and she turned to witness a man in black robes and armed with many knives and daggers. The man didn’t notice her over by the window and he his breath came in deep breathes showing that he ran his way into the room. The young lady observed her bedroom quickly and noticed the sheathed sword that laid upon a table within arms-reach. She quietly grabbed the blade then propped herself onto the ledge of the window, seating and watching the intruder until his attention led him to her.

            “Didn’t expect anyone to be in this room, did you?” She asked the man as he went from a crouching position to standing up. “Running from the guards then?”

            “You… you live in this spire?” the man asked in between inhales.

            “I do,” she smiled, knowing that the man was confused because no other kingdom or tribe that possessed a spire, lived within it like that of the Earthen Spire. “I am a Priestess of Arth. Now what would a man of the swamp be doing here, only a month after joining the goblin force that now pillaged and burnt their way through the land?”

            The man said nothing but slowly pulled free a dagger from his waist and held it up towards her. As he did so, Foria noticed a glowing in his pocket, which could only be the Gem of Qulid a sacred item that the Earthen Kingdom was asked to protect. She quickly jumped down from her perch on the windowsill and took the sword from its sheath, throwing the leather of the sheath on the ground. The two circled for a moment until they were in opposite positions from when they started.

            The priestess lunged forward striking at the thief whom blocked each one but staggered back from the force she put into it. He kept blocking the slashes, not getting a chance to strike of his own, until he was against the windowsill. The dagger nearly missed Foria’s throat as the thief took his one chance to strike, but with his failed attempt she lifted her leg and kicked him square in the chest. He flipped out the window but he caught the edge with both hands.

            Foria jumped he windowsill and grabbed the thief by the clothes around his chest. After lifting him up to eye level with her, she quickly snatched the gem from his pocket and tossed it in the room, landing softly a top her bed. With a frown she looked into the thief’s eyes, she saw no innocence and at that she noticed him sliding a knife from his sleeve. She let go of him, not bothering to watch him fall and land on the marble roofs of the palace rooms below. Grabbing the leather sheathe off the ground, Foria put the blade down and walked over to retrieve the gem from off her bed.

            A knock came from her door along with a voice saying, “Priestess Foria, there is a thief among the spire whom stole the Gem of Qulid!”

            She went to the door and opened it to see two older men in green and silver armor, both with a look of panic on their face. That look went away when the priestess handed them the glowing red gem with a small smirk across her face. They both looked surprised as the eldest took the gem and asked, “so what of the thief?”

            Saying nothing she pointed over to the window which they went over to observe. They looked out and down below to witness the very man they had just recently been chasing all over the spire. They turned back to her and bowed, one saying, “Thank you Priestess Foria. You truly are a wonder to the Earthen Kingdom and your Father the High Priest will be proud of you.”

            “I am only doing my duty for Arth and the High Gods.” She said with another smile and a bow herself. “You two might want to get that gem back quickly. Wouldn’t want any of the Priests of Qulid to find out that there precious gem isn’t where it should be.”

 

 

Demon Tongue

 

            A storm had snuck in, casting lightning and pouring rain down towards the Arcane Spire and the dark woods that surrounded it. Crane watched and listened to the forest line, selectively choosing which conversations to hear by casting magic. He had learned a lot within the past hours.

            The attackers were camped on the other side of the wall surrounding the spire and its town. They were a large group of dark elves, as he suspected and they were waiting for day break, or at least for the storm to give. He heard whispers between their soldiers that chilled even the young mage to the bones. The war party was under command of a Demon by the name of Taa’Hall.

            Crane looked from the forest to the town down below. Most people had abandoned it and fled to Coastal, losing faith in their own people. Guards ran around in a flurry preparing for an attack that could take place at any moment. A memory flashed through his mind as he viewed the remaining people in the town. All the people slaughtered by dark elves ten years ago.

            The struggle nearly caused the Arcanians to go extinct, only surviving with one-tenth the original population. This war had waged between the two people for thousands of years, switching positions over control of the Arcane Spire throughout it. His mother and family all wiped out by the savages, most of the highly trained military force was also eliminated making the current attack eminent at some point.

            With his mind thinking elsewhere, he turned to look within the room to view the giant well in the center. The liquid, which seemed to be boiling, shined a bright blue color. Approaching it, Crane peered into the liquid and dark red eyes appeared in it. A sinister voice, which burnt the inside of Crane’s ears, rang out from the well.

            “Crane, they come soon,” it said then hissed, “If this spire falls into their hands, Darnoar will be imprisoned to the mortal world.”

            “Why have me do this?” Crane asked the boiling liquid, or at least, what was inside of it. “Surely there are stronger and wiser wizards than I to defend this tower and why have me kill the spire mages if they are protecting it?”

            “Not now, Crane,” it replied, “they strike now. In silence and in shadow.”

            Crane went back to his spot and watched the town below. At first, everything seemed to be in order, but as he paid closer attention, he began to notice guards being pulled into the shadows. They had snuck into the town, and a lot of them. He lifted his hands and uttering a few words to manifest fire in them, he began tossing them towards the shadows. The light of the fire revealed the corpses of the guards, some in piles. In one corner, the light revealed an elf which quickly bolted into the street and towards a dark alley. Before it could reach the alley, Crane had conjured a surge of lightning casting it to the ground, this caused an up roar and several hundred elves dashed onto roof tops and ran through the streets towards the spire.

            Only a few fell to his lightning and most dodged the fires he created. Arrows began plunging into the side of the spire just out of reach of the young mage. He began to panic, missing more shots, when the voice form the well echoed into his ears, “Crane, I have a spell for you.”

            A rolled up scroll appeared and drifted down to Crane, he thought of how his elders told him that demonic magic corrupted the soul and usually caused death, but it was for his people. He opened it and read the letters, it was in Spirit writing which he could not read, but as he looked over the lettering they began to make sense. As he read it, the flow of arcane magic flowing from his eyes changed from to a dark red color and he read the demonic words aloud.

            Chanting the spell, Crane lifted from the spire and began to float above the town. The remaining arcane guards that fought off the dark elves, fell victim to the trap and their souls left their body to drift around Crane. Crane watched uncontrollably through his eyes trying to stop his body from casting the spell, but it was too late. Every last Arcanian around the spire and in the town had been reaped by the dark magic and now flew around Crane.

            His body turned back towards the tower and Crane saw the demon, standing on the ledge and peering deep into his eyes. Behind it and the spire, in the sky, a face filled the storming clouds and grinned, the face of Demir. He looked back to the demon who began to speak, “Darnoar must be imprisoned, mortal! Law calls for exchange, a soul for a soul! I banish you, in exchange for the Lord of Magic, the God of Wisdom, the King of Knowing!”

 

Iolin, Barbarian of the North

 

            Iolin climbed his way up the wall with the warlock in a pile of bones below him. The climb was easy, because the wall wasn’t smoothed out, leaving multiple rocks jarring out and making great handles. When he got to the top, he poked his head and looked down the walkway that was on top of the way, it was clear of any guards. He pulled himself over and crossed the walkway to begin his descend down the other side.

            His feet touched ground once again and he turned to face the dried out valley that he was so accustomed to. First he would need to hunt a little food for his travel, a simple task considering there was a herd of desert oxen close by. He had stolen meat and supplies from that farm for years, it would be no different this time, but it would be the last. Searching once again for any sign of guards, with none in sight, he began to walk towards the farm.

            It was right around a small hillside and on this day it looked as if no one was there. The oxen all stood around each other and ate from grass that the farmers had spread along the cracked dirt earth. Iolin quietly approached the farm, in case anyone came out and saw him. It wouldn’t matter if they did, he would still take what he needed and run into the valley, no one would follow. He came to a small hut which had multiple supplies in it from water containers to sacks with dried food in them.

            Sneaking his way in, in case there was anyone nearby, Iolin snatched up a few supplies then turned his attention outside, to the oxen. He thought about killing one and skinning it for the meat and fur, but the time it would take would be far too long, so he grabbed a few more pieces of dried food and stuffed it into a sack which was now nearly overflowing and one more pouch of water. As he was leaving the small shack, he noticed an ax leaned against the wall. It was a simple wood cutting ax, which he found strange cause there were hardly any trees in this region, and he knew he would need more than a knife to defend him.

            The nearest place for him to go was the Earthen Kingdom, south of the valley, it would take several days but it was his only real option. He set out, leaving the farm behind and marching his way out into the valley. It was cooling dramatically as the moon took its perch in the sky. He decided to travel by night, although much of the valley predators where nocturnal, he thought dealing with them was much easier than trying not to overheat in the daytime.

            Hours past, as he continually walked south, there were no signs of life besides the insect life which scuttled across the ground and below his feet. That silence was broken by the sound of what Iolin thought of as laughing. Nothing like a person’s laugh, he quickly assumed it was a pack of valley hyenas out searching for food, they were talking to each other about the pre they found wandering all alone. Iolin gripped the ax handle with both hands and waited for a sign of movement in the valley. Although night, the valley illuminated quite well from the moon light yet he could not make out the laughing creatures.

            They were hiding, tucked down in tall grass waiting for their prey to walk past them without noticing them. Which Iolin fell trap to, he past two which had gone silent and then noticed one in front of him. The trap was sprung the hyena he had noticed, jumped up and slowly walked towards him, causing him to back up. Before he reached the other two, he had learned the trap, so he lunged forward and brought the blade of the ax into the skull of the hyena trying to back him up. Three more jumped out including the two behind him and he was surrounded.

            Closely, Iolin watched them, to see which would react first. They were all stand-offish, so he made the first move and hacked at one’s neck, causing its’ death and fell to the ground with the ax stuck within its’ muscular meat. One of the last hyenas latched onto Iolin’s arm, instantly causing pain and drawing a massive amount of blood. He drew his knife and pressed it in between the hyena’s eye, as he pulled it free and pushed the body aside the last one sprang for a kill shot, hoping to get the throat, but Iolin side stepped and grabbed the by one of its’ back legs. With a forceful tug, Iolin brought the hyena down and quickly jumped upon its’ back where he proceeded to slice its’ throat.

            He saw this as an opportunity to get some more food for his journey, so he took the time to skin a hyena and cut out a few portions of meat, he decided to make a cloak out of the fur as well. As the sun began to rise, he found a large group of bushes which he rested in. Thinking of what was to become of him, Iolin fell asleep and dreamt of his victory over the vicious valley dogs.

Reviews

[Joshua J. Lowe]

Your descriptive abilities are excellent. The concepts of the story are well-defined. Your style paints pictures of the scenes in my head, and the characters stand out without knowing much about them. Well done.