The Companions of Tartiël (54 page)

Gently setting down Solaria’s body, Kaiyr propped her against the wall in a sitting position before manifesting his soulblade and returning to his companions.

Perhaps it was because they so clearly remembered the handy defeat of their forces at the temple of Alduros Hol by the trio, or perhaps it was because they saw the head of Warteär Nomen in Wild’s hands, but regardless of the reason, the wolf army backed down. Just as they had when the blademaster’s party arrived, the Terth’Kaftineya lowered their ears and tucked their tails between their legs, and the humans stepped aside to let the group pass. Kaiyr, in no mood to be double-crossed, surveyed the situation, coldly eyeing the soldiers’ reactions and sizing up the opponents before deciding that they were indeed surrendering this fight.

After Kaiyr had Solaria’s form in his arms again, the trio grimly moved onward. They kept their eyes straight ahead as their enemies kept theirs to the ground.

Yet again, however, they found their way blocked. This time, however, it was not by the wolf army, but by Jinn. The strange creature’s shadowy form spilled out from an alley, and his yellow eyes winked into existence as he met the party, who stopped even though they did not care to listen to what anyone had to say to them.

The yellow eyes vibrated with amusement. “What you have done here today will certainly go into the annals of this world,” Jinn told them excitedly. “You… you are truly ones to be watched; perhaps you will have such a profound impact on the world as has never before been—”

“Can you bring her back?” Kaiyr interrupted the smoky watcher, his voice hollow.

Jinn stopped, his yellow eye-lights stilling themselves. After what seemed like a smoky sigh, the watcher replied, “Yes and no. I am physically able to restore that creature in your arms to life. However, certain… restrictions placed upon me have rendered me incapable of doing so.”

The blademaster’s voice turned into a growl, and he strode around Jinn angrily. “Then get out of our way.”

Caineye looked at Kaiyr back in mild shock, but then he and Vinto followed, Wild on their heels.

“I beg of you patience,” Jinn said as they passed. “What I have to say will be important for you, regardless of how you feel right now.”

Kaiyr spun on his heel, clutching Solaria close to him so as not to shake her body too much. “Do not condescend us, creature! You are utterly useless to us, to this world, if you have the power to change it, yet sit idly by and do nothing. You have no right to beg nor demand anything of us, wretch! Now. Be. Gone.”

“Kaiyr,” Caineye said, voice full of concern as Kaiyr returned to his original path.

“I have had enough of the foolishness of this creature and those others we must contend with under this cursed globe, Master Caineye,” the blademaster said by way of explanation and closure.

Jinn did not relent, and the party stopped to listen with their backs turned only as long as the watcher continued speaking. “There is yet one more pivotal event to come, and you must be there to witness it. The coming of the fallen angel, Saraël, is near. She is the cause of everything that has transpired here, and the power that will call her is maturing. Two days hence, at sunrise, she will appear, and then all will be made known… and all will be turned to dust. I can only be a witness, but you have the power to change the world.”

XLI.

“Well, all of you get back to the temple without any more interruptions,” Dingo told us, and we all deflated a little, relieved not to have to fight another battle this day. Statistically, Kaiyr could have continued fighting the rest of the day as long as he had time to stop and use charges from his
wand of cure light wounds
and
wand of cure moderate wounds
to heal himself every now and then. Wild, whose contributions had been minor at best against Warteär Nomen because of the construct’s immunity to the rogue’s extra sneak attack damage, was little the worse for wear. Caineye was the most exhausted of anyone in terms of the game’s rules; he had used many spells during the battle, as well as afterward in order to heal Kaiyr’s injuries. He still had all his uses of the druid’s
wildshape
ability left, but Caineye was not built for combat and would not have fared well, even with a strong animal form (unless, perhaps, he transformed into a bear, the better to hug enemies to death).

“Except for one last thing. About halfway to the temple, a great creature erupts from the black castle, nearly destroying it in the process,” Dingo went on. “But nothing comes of it, as a form you recognize as Atradeus soars overhead and clashes with the creature, and as you arrive at the temple, the beast falls over, utterly dead.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Must have been the tarrasque, only Dingo’s favorite creature. It
is
an enormous, invincible dinosaur, after all,” I said. “Anyway, I immediately find Id’ril.
Father Id’ril, can you return Solaria to us?
I ask without preamble.”

Dingo nodded. “
I can try, but her spirit must be willing. Do you have a proper sacrifice?
”

“
I do.
I present the diamonds.”

The DM held up his hand. “
It cannot happen this night, unfortunately. Find a safe resting place for her remains tonight, and on the morrow, I will prepare to channel the divine energy it will require to make the connection.
”

I nodded gravely. “
Very well. And thank you.
”

Dingo looked at us as a group and spread his hands. “Well? Is there anything any of you want to do before resting?”

“I’m going to pray over Solaria’s form,” Xavier said. “Vinto will be there with me.”

“I’m busy looking at the shininess of Warteär Nomen’s head,” Matt replied with a grin.

“All right,” Dingo said. “The next morning comes, and all of you are present for the
raise dead
spell.”

“I hold Solaria’s head on my knee,” I said with a pang of romance, “so that when she wakes, she’ll be comfortable and see the faces of her friends.”

Dingo nodded. “Id’ril casts the spell, and Kaiyr, you find reality warping around you again, and you find yourself in the presence of Arvanos Sinterian.”

Xavier rolled his eyes. “Again? Of course, I never get to meet Alduros Hol in person.”

*

“Father Arvanos,” Kaiyr said in surprise when he found himself no longer kneeling on the ground outside the temple of Alduros Hol with Solaria’s body. Instead, he stood at the center of the same forest clearing as when he had spoken with the First Father before.

“Young blademaster,” Arvanos said, His eyes smiling. In one hand He played with the several diamonds Kaiyr had sacrificed in order to make his appeal to the gods. “It seems life becomes more complicated for you every day.”

Kneeling briefly before being beckoned to stand, the elf nodded. “I did not expect to meet you again in person, my god.”

Arvanos cocked His head to one side. “Perhaps that in itself is the reason I decide to appear before you so often. It is often that the mortals send prayers to the celestial realms on wings of frivolity, expecting us to appease them, grant them financial stability, restore a jilted lover to their side. But you come to me, begging humbly and expecting nothing of me, and your need is real. I can see the damage your heart has taken from your suffering. Your soul is torn with the loss of so much in such a short time.”

He snapped His fingers, and the diamonds evaporated. “But come; time is short, and you have come to me for a specific reason.” Waving His hand, Arvanos gripped the strands of reality in this place and wove them anew. The trees and ferns stepped aside and leaned out of the way, creating a path before Kaiyr. At the end of it, the blademaster could make out Solaria kneeling contentedly in the grass.

Kaiyr hesitated, but Arvanos appeared behind him, a guiding hand on the blademaster’s shoulder. “Go to her,” He told the blue-haired elf. “I will wait here.”

Slowly, as if in a dream, Kaiyr trod the path the woods had made specifically for him. Solaria did not look up immediately upon his arrival. She was clad in a simple, white gown, and her hair was filled with tiny, violet flowers she had picked in the clearing. She gently wove a wreath made of the bright stalks and petals.

“Lady Solaria,” he said at length, kneeling before her in the grass.

Her eyes met his, and Kaiyr’s heart skipped a beat. “I know,” she said to him simply. “I know.”

Kaiyr took a steadying breath. “Lady Solaria… will you come back with me? Will you come back to life?”

“Why?”

“I…” Kaiyr’s voice trailed off as his words lost their way to his tongue.

Solaria put down her wreath and fixed Kaiyr with a stern but understanding gaze. “Kaiyr… things will be better this way. You can have what you want if I stay here.”

The elf’s eyes suddenly brimmed with tears; he already knew that he could not convince her to come with him, but he knew he had to try. “Lady Solaria, I beg of you… I do not want this for either of us. You… you have friends in life who will miss you dearly, who… see? I already weep for you, Lady Solaria. Please. We… we all love you.
I
love you.”

A sad smile crossed Solaria’s features. Reaching out, she tenderly touched Kaiyr’s tear-stained cheek, and he responded by pressing against her hand. “Silly Kaiyr,” she chided him, her voice soft. “We both know it is not me whom you love. I see it in your eyes even when you look at me with that caring look of yours. You’re not looking at me; you’re looking at Astra.

“Even though I’ve only been here a short time, I’ve already come to realize several things. The most important one right now is that although I am not Astra, I am still a part of her, and she, a part of me.” She removed her hand, and Kaiyr, his spirit battered and weary, looked at her like a lost puppy. “You must let go of me, for what you see in me is not what I am. Take my passing as a blessing, a blessing so that you can pursue your heart’s true path, your true desire. Know that in loving her you will also love me, Kaiyr.”

Kaiyr frowned, for Solaria’s last words reached his ears as though through a long tunnel. Then the vision around him swam, the trees rapidly fading. “Wait!” he shouted. “Lady Solaria, do not leave me yet!”

But it was too late, and Kaiyr’s consciousness dropped back into his own body. The backlash from the rejected divine energy ripped through the immediate area, knocking over Id’ril, Caineye, and Wild, and nearly bowling Kaiyr over backwards. Solaria’s form remained untouched by the release of power.

“My, what was that?” Id’ril groaned, sitting up and massaging his aching head. Then he saw the diamonds still sitting on the small, portable wooden altar. “It failed. I’m sorry, Blademaster Kaiyr. I have failed you.”

Kaiyr sat up and glanced over at Caineye and Wild before turning to Id’ril. “No,” he said, his voice filled with a deep sadness. “You did not fail. Lady Solaria did not wish to return.”

At the blademaster’s words, Wild burst into tears again, and Caineye stared blankly at the ground. Rising, Kaiyr gently laid Solaria’s head on the grass. “I will begin preparations for her burial.”

It did not take long to select a place to put Solaria to rest. The perfect spot seemed to reveal itself as though with a mind of its own. A small stream ran through a clearing filled with the same purple flowers Solaria had been picking in Arvanos’s glade. After resting from the mental exertion of meeting with both Arvanos and Solaria, Kaiyr took up shovels with Caineye and Wild, and together, the three of them dug Solaria’s grave.

The service afterward was a simple one, with Id’ril and Eledath saying prayers as the trio tearfully replaced the earth over Solaria’s body. Then they all stood vigil until nightfall, wordless for more than an hour before the sun set.

Finally it was over, and although Kaiyr still knelt on the ground before Solaria’s grave, Caineye and Wild were quietly discussing with Id’ril and Eledath what should be done about the coming danger; this Saraël figure sounded mighty indeed if the necessary preparations for her arrival involved the deaths of thousands upon thousands of Ik’durel’s inhabitants.

“Master Kaiyr,” Id’ril said at last, as the hour neared midnight. “Come. I beg of you to join us in a meal and then to rest. We have all had a long day.”

Kaiyr said nothing for almost a minute. Just as Id’ril was about to try again, the blademaster spoke, his voice calm and full of determination. “No, Father Id’ril. I and my companions have rested this day, and in only a few hours, Saraël will arrive in this world. I intend to meet her on the field of battle and put an end to her designs, whatever they may be.” He leaned over and kissed the ground at the foot of Solaria’s resting place. Then, rising, he turned to Caineye and Wild. Kaiyr’s cheeks showed the stains of tears, but they had by now dried, and he wiped away the evidence of their passing with his sleeve. His resolve hardened to adamantine, and he could see the same was true for both Caineye and Wild; even Vinto seemed ready to avenge the one responsible for the group’s strife.

“Let us go,” Kaiyr intoned in a slow crescendo that turned into a battle-eager growl. Caineye, Wild, and Vinto fell into step beside the blademaster. “We have work to do.”

XLII.

“Well,” Dingo said as we sat down together in my dorm room, “this is it, unless we really don’t wrap things up here.” It was the Friday before finals began, and while Xavier devoted much of his time to studying for his math and accounting courses, I spent most of my time on other endeavors. The college atmosphere at end of the year was too exciting for me to sit down and write the (still unpublished) novel I was writing at the time, so I put many hours into my favorite PlayStation 2 and PC games; Xavier actually welcomed the background noise of me gleefully chopping apart aquatic zombies and witches.

“We’re finishing this campaign tonight?” Matt asked.

“Yeah. I’d like to run during finals, but I need to make sure I do well. Then there’s the packing and getting ready to leave, and I’m leaving on Thursday, so we’d only be able to play through Wednesday. Well, not even that, since I think I have a morning final on Thursday,” Dingo replied, idly tossing a few dice around on his little table. “So, how about a recap of last time?” He looked at me, since I tended to volunteer such reminders.