BlackThorn's Doom

BLACKTHORN’S DOOM

Chronicles of the Dark Sword Book Three

By DeWayne M Kunkel

Copyright © 2011 by DeWayne M. Kunkel

All rights reserved

This work is dedicated to my readers, thank you for taking a chance on an unknown author.

Especially to Sue McNabb, for your encouragement and support

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“
Within the hearts of all men lay the seeds of Heroism.”

Thoron’Gil

Chapter One

The words Connell had spoken struck them all like a blow. Connell was a good and honorable man with the skills needed to wield the blade, and yet he had failed. Returning to his friends empty handed with the doom of the world weighing down upon his shoulders.

“Do not take offense,” The Se’estra said consolingly. “Men beyond count have ventured down the same path as you. They all have returned empty handed as well. In this there is no dishonor.”

Connell was about to reply when Casius stepped forward and boldly announced. “I will attempt the test,” he said calmly even though fear tightened his chest.

Connell gripped his forearm firmly. “Think on what you are saying.” He demanded sharply. “Should you succeed, then you will stand alone against the Kin slayer.” Connell searched his friend’s eyes. “Is this what you wish.”

“I told you once long ago that I do not believe in fate.” Casius answered him, searching for the right words to describe the helplessness he now felt. “I still don’t, but a mans future is guided by the choices he makes. Perhaps fate is the result of having no options left before you.”

“There are always choices, Casius.” Connell responded.

“If I turn aside now Connell I will never rest knowing I gave away the one chance to save the world. It is that cost that forces my decision. I am no hero, Bravery does not come easily to me.”

Connell smiled releasing his friend’s arm. “Though you may fail, even to make the attempt knowing the burden you will face should you meet with success proves the strength of your courage.”

Taking Casius by the arm she leads him to the stair that Connell had ascended. “Be true seeker,” She whispered softly. “Go now and be judged rightly.”

Casius looked over his shoulder at his companions. Marcos smiled and nodded his encouragement. Suni stood as impassive as ever; only a slight tip of his head showed the respect he had for his young pupil.

Connell nodded and waved him onward. Casius smiled and turned to the stair. He descended cautiously; the steps were narrow and slick. The base of the stair disappeared into a roiling mist that flowed about the ziggurats base.

Through the damp mist the stair led him downward until he emerged into a low grotto filled with lush vegetation. Sunlight coming from the rent in the mountain pierced the mist above and reflected brightly from small still pools of water.

A broad path paved with polished stone led through the ferns and unfamiliar flowers. A few hundred paces ahead the path entered into a deep cleft in the mountain rock.

The ever-present tinge of sulfur was absent here. Instead a pleasant aroma of sweet blossoms filled the air, adding to the beauty around him.

The garden was a sharp contrast to the land of sterile gray stone and blue tinged fields of ice. The Mahjie had performed a miracle, only through hard work and careful tending could such a place exist.

Casius walked slowly, savoring the feel of the soft grass under foot. He was determined to undergo the test, but he had no desire to wield the black sword. He could see no other way before him though and he braced himself against the responsibility it brought.

A pair of trees framed the opening within the lichen-stained stone. Their golden leaves whispered softly in a light breeze that Casius could not feel. He paused beneath their boughs; taking a deep breath as he steeled himself against the trepidation building within him.

Stepping boldly forward he entered the narrow tunnel. Less than a hundred feet ahead he could see the entrance to a broad chamber flooded with silver light. He entered the chamber cautiously; it was roughly circular and brightly illuminated by a host of the strange metallic spheres set into niches along the walls.

Against the far wall of the chamber sat a powerfully built man with a thick beard and braided hair of deepest black.

His eyes were closed and the deep lines etched into his face reminded Casius of the sailors of his home who lived in the harsh elements all of their lives.

Clad in battered armor that had seen many battles he appeared to be resting. As if at any moment he would awaken.

Casius knew this was Thoron’Gil, he had expected a skeletal corpse at best. Nothing had prepared him for this.

He stood at Thoron’Gil’s feet expecting him to leap up and berate him for disturbing his slumber. Thoron’Gil’s hands rested lightly upon the hilt of his fabled blade Aethir.

The Dark sword was unsheathed and rested across his lap. The ebon steel absorbing the light that fell upon it. A faint hum emanated from the metal, a disturbing sound that reminded Casius of a plain’s cat ready to pounce.

Casius squatted; he could see the dark stain of dried blood on Thoron’Gil’s side. Even with his decision made he hesitated. The sight of the legendary warrior and his blade made his doubts all the more powerful.

It was said that Thoron’Gil was uprooted from his home and reluctantly went to war. He was a farmer first and a warrior only by necessity. Perhaps he was as reluctant as Casius now felt when the blade was forged for him.

Unsure of what was required of him he reached out and carefully touched the fabled weapon. He jerked his hand back expecting to be burnt. The blade had emitted a ringing note at his touch, a clarion call that yet echoed within the stone chamber.

Casius reached forward once more but hesitated. He was unsure as how he was to proceed.

Suddenly Thoron’Gil’s eyes snapped open. Milky white orbs that locked with his own. Casius tried to escape but Thoron’Gil was faster. He grasped Casius’s forearm in a vise like grip with his left hand. With his right he lifted the sword from his lap.

Casius struggled but could not break the cold iron hold upon him.

Thoron’Gil placed Aethir’s hilt in his hand and released his hold upon him. His body fell back lifeless once more. The flesh upon his bones turned to dust and exploded outward in a choking cloud as he impacted the floor.

Time had finally claimed the long dead hero, even his armor fell into a scattered collection of rusted plates and tattered cloth.

A powerful blast of warm air swirled within the chamber scattering the dust and bringing with it the smell of freshly tilled earth.

Casius felt a presence behind him, gaining his feet he turned to face whomever had entered the chamber. His hand raised the black sword before him without thinking.

In the silvery light of the spheres stood Thoron’Gil. He was pale and the chamber walls could be vaguely seen through him.

“The blade is now yours.” He said in a voice nothing more than a faint echo born upon the wind. “Use it well.”

A soft rending sound over powered his voice as a brilliant light expanded behind him. The line thickened until it became a rippling hole in the air. Golden light streamed through the opening revealing a fair country of rolling green hills and swaying grass. A woman stood just beyond the opening with two small children at her side. She smiled and called Thoron’Gil’s name.

Tears flooded down the ancient hero’s cheeks and he cried out joyfully. “My’essa!” With a leap he entered the opening and the light flared brightly momentarily blinding Casius.

When his vision cleared Casius found that he was alone once more in the Chamber. The faint smell of wildflowers lingered in the air, the only remnant of what he had seen.

In his hand the sword hummed softly. The blade was incredibly light and its metal the color of coal. Removing his own sword from its scabbard he laid the shining steel onto the ground where Thoron’Gil had lain for many centuries.

Sliding Aethir into his scabbard he left the hollowed chamber. As he regained the tunnels entrance a deep rumble sounded from within the earth. The ground shook and the golden leaved trees swayed ominously above him.

As quickly as it had started the earth tremor faded. Resting his hand on Aethir’s hilt, Casius made his way through the garden and up the narrow stair.

A new sense of confidence filled him. Although he still dreaded the prospect of what lay ahead of him.

Connell stopped pacing when Casius emerged from the head of the stair. He appeared well; there was no shock or sorrow upon his features. Looking to Casius’s hip his heart skipped a beat. There in his weathered scabbard hung the dark blade Aethir.

“By the gods,” he exclaimed softly. “He did it!”

Marcos nodded in greeting a look of relief softening his features. The relief quickly changed to concern. “The Blade has changed him.”

Connell reexamined his friend, it took a moment but he saw the difference. Casius’s eyes were now dark, as dark as the steel of the blade. They seemed to measure everything about him, an unearthly awareness that Connell had seen in only man before. Casius’s gaze reminded him of the disconcerting eyes of Ravin Suni.

“It is done.” The Se’estra said sinking back in her chair as if the weight of her advance years had finally fallen upon her. “The one foretold of long ago has come and claimed Aethir as his own.”

The Mahjie looked on in awe and wonder. This event had been prophesized but none had expected it to be fulfilled in their lifetime.