Chapter 72: Let Us Begin (Patreon)
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Chapter 72: Let Us Begin
Warlord Marek stared at the wonder that was the chrome gate. The magical structure was unknown to most, a legend to the rest, yet all who saw it would feel its radiating power. The gate was composed of a large circular chrome platform that spanned over twenty feet. Ten chrome spires equally spread apart, rose from the edge of the circle, and curved inwards, like two hands about to touch.
Despite the passage of centuries, the chrome gate was unblemished, not a single scratch on its metallic surface. There was not a single marking or magical rune of any sort on the arcane gate.
“Truly magnificent,” Marek sighed in awe.
“Yes, my lord. Although, it would be even more magnificent if it would stop snowing,” Nokuti shivered.
The pale woman sat on a nearby frost-covered stone. She was wrapped in a thick fur coat, yet she refused to stuff her hands in her pockets, and instead opted to have her cold fingers wrapped around her double-sided axe.
“You are a vampire, why does a little bit of snow bother you?” Marek asked.
“Aye, but not even vampires would live on a forsaken cursed isle in the middle of the bloody Hoarfrost Bay. Only frost giants would care to live here,” Nokuti complained.
“I’m a human and I can handle it just fine,” Marek said.
“True, but I think all three of us can agree you are no regular human.”
Marek stood almost 7 feet tall. Beneath his fur coat his body was toned with muscles and tempered with scars. His shaggy brown hair reached to his shoulders, but did nothing to hide his piercing cyan eyes. The man was a legend in the Dusk Valley for a very good reason. He had the strength of a valley lion and the magical prowess to match.
“I have to agree with Nokuti on this. You have certain qualities that have allowed your rise to power in the Valley. It is those same qualities that have made me join your cause,” Crow said from a few feet away.
“And for that I thank Stjerne, above,” Marek praised his patron god of the stars. “Although, you have yet to tell me exactly what those qualities are.”
“If you haven’t realized them by now, then there is no point in me telling you,” Crow said.
Crow was one of the strangest people he had ever met. Crow wore a black feathered cloak with feathers that were clearly too long to have ever come from a crow. His face was covered in a large bird skull that he always seemed to wear.
Crow had one day simply appeared in front of Marek’s Valley tribe and offered his services to any who could defeat him. Marek had been the only one to succeed. Crow had been with him ever since. He was an enigma to all of Marek’s tribe, but Crow always got the job done no matter the difficulty, even if it wasn’t done by his own hand.
“So long as you continue to guide us to victory then I have no complaints,” Marek smiled.
“I simply guide, you, my lord, are the one who will lead us all to the victories to come,” Crow nodded.
“Speaking of which, how long do we have to wait in this horrible weather?” Nokuti asked.
“Today was the agreed upon rendezvous. The twins should be back any moment now,” Crow answered.
“We have been out here for over an hour,” Nokuti groaned.
“They have been traveling for months, cut them some slack. You’d do well to learn from their tenacity,” Marek chastised.
“My lord, I would kill scores of enemies for you. I would die for you if you just said the words. But, believe me when I say I despise the cold. Even the winters in the Valley are horrible, yet this is colder than any winter I’ve ever experienced and it’s bloody summer. Forget my toes, I can’t even feel my feet,” Nokuti raised her legs.
“Then you were clearly born in the wrong Realm. There are few places colder than the Ebon Realm,” Crow noted.
“Thanks for the wonderful information,” she rolled her eyes.
“Nokuti, you are standing in front of one of the greatest magical achievements of all time, something that most people don’t even believe exists, and you can’t even be bothered to admire its beauty,” Marek gestured at the chrome gate.
“My lord, I only care about what can serve you best. If this magical gate can do so, then wonderful, but until then I am going to prevent my ass from freezing over,” Nokuti huffed.
Marek shook his head, “You’re lucky you’re the most talented warrior I have. You’d never be my right hand otherwise.”
“No luck there, my lord. Only skill,” she grinned.
The snowfall stopped and the wind suddenly died. The flat surface of the gate rippled. Shivering metal slowly gathered together in the center and formed a metallic orb. The tips of the ten chrome spires began to glow, each one with a separate chromatic color. The metallic orb rose into the air and began to spin. The orb undulated as if about to burst, it grew in size until it threatened to overtake the spires. The light of the spires grew brighter, almost blindingly.
Suddenly, the chrome orb melted away to reveal a group of imposing individuals. The orb’s metallic liquid pooled back into the platform and the spires’ light faded. The chrome gate froze once again as if it hadn’t been touched in centuries.
Five beings stood atop the gate. The twins stood in front.
“Only five?” Nokuti whispered.
“The strain of the gate is high. The twins have only begun to open the door between Realms, it will take them some time to master the skill,” Crow replied.
“Dawn, Vaughn, I take it everything went well,” Marek looked past the twins to the three strangers behind.
“Indeed,” Dawn muttered. Vaughn nodded curtly in agreement.
Neither twin spoke very much. When Crow had guided Marek to a small hut he had been very skeptical. His skepticism grew when he saw the twin vampire-drow hybrids inside, eating simple broth soup. Crow nudged him on to invite the twins into his tribe. To Marek’s surprise they refused. It was only after promises of many riches and giving away the two best centaurs in his herd, did the twins accept his invitation.
Marek thought himself a fool to have given up so much, he blamed Crow for his idiotic guidance. Yet, when the twins showed themselves to not just be magi, but the renowned rank of archmage, Marek had been stunned into silence.
Not a single tribe in the Valley had an archmage and he had suddenly gained two. Marek had made two promises that day. First, he would make sure to make good on his promises of riches to the twins and second, he would never doubt Crow again.
Marek stepped forward, “I am Marek, first of my name, war lord and leader of the Cairn tribe of Dusk Valley. And I am the one who has called you here.”
A blonde young man leaned against one of the spires, “I am here because of the promise of gold. I would never have left the Ivory Realm otherwise.”
“A drow?” Marek asked. He thought the drow were native to the Ebon Realm.
“Not quite,” Crow spoke up.
The blonde young man frowned and walked up to Marek. He stared right up at the giant of a human, “Don’t you ever confuse me with a drow again or I’ll cut off your balls where you stand.”
The edge of an axe slid right below the young man’s neck. “I will cut off your head before you get the chance,” Nokuti sneered.
“You have a woman fight your battles?” The young man mocked without moving.
Marek smiled, “Not at all.”
His skin turned bronze with darkened veins as he multicasted a vigor and agility spell. Marek’s hand blurred as it smashed into the stranger’s face and sent him flying across the snow.
“Imbecile,” Nokuti spat at the fallen man.
He shot up to his feet with little effort. He waved his hand over his bloodied face. White light sunk into his broken nose and healed it.
“Not bad. Perhaps this Realm has some interesting people after all,” he touched his nose gingerly.
Dawn pointed at the man, “That’s Kyriil. High master mage. Chromatic white.”
“In terms of looks, elves are quite similar to drow. Save that elves’ skin tone ranges from pale white to deep browns. Though they do hate to be compared to the drow,” Crow added.
Marek nodded, “I understand. Forgive me Kyriil for mistaking your species. But, do not take my apology for weakness. If you threaten me again I will end you. Do I make myself understood?”
Kyriil moved his jaw to ensure full movement, “Will you pay me in gold?”
“There are plenty of caravans in the Valley that carry gold and my tribe has plundered many of them. But, once we have sacked the great city of Hollow Shade, then you will have all the gold you could ever wish for,” Marek said.
“Then I am at your service, my lord,” Kyriil bowed with a flourish.
A beautiful lamia slithered away from the platform and tentatively touched the snow with the tip of her tail. “So, this is the Ebon Realm? It’s colder than I imagined.”
“What did you expect, the golden deserts of the Aurous Realm? This is the Realm of frost giants, it’d be strange if it wasn’t cold,” a hunched cloaked stranger said.
“It’s not always this cold. Well, here it is, but we’re in the north. Our destination, Dusk Valley, has warmer temperatures, especially in summer, which we are currently experiencing. Although, it never gets close to as hot as the Aurous Realm,” Crow explained.
“And you are?” Marek asked the lamia.
She smirked, “As you can obviously see I’m a beastkin and therefore not a mage. But, do not for a moment doubt that I am the most dangerous one amongst everyone on this frozen rock. You may call me Lysaila.”
The lamia had pale skin, her scales were a rich blue that shimmered in the evening sunlight. Her hair matched the tones of her scales, as did her slit pupil eyes. She was dressed very lightly, with only silk straps, a golden necklace, and a large belt covered in purple magestones. The belt was clearly enchanted. Who charged the magestones with mana, Marek had no clue. A large enchanted blade hung from the belt. Marek could hazard a guess that it had tasted the blood of many.
“I have heard how deadly lamias are, very few have ever lived to tell their tale,” Marek eyed her deathly beauty.
“I hear beastkin are treated as less than people in this Realm. They are seen only as animals. While I couldn’t care less about the weak-willed beastkin of these lands, just make sure you understand I am so much more than any of them. Otherwise you may not live to regret it,” Lysaila licked her lips with a forked tongue.
The other twin, Vaughn, pointed his finger at her, “Lysaila. Lamia from the Amber Realm. Dangerous.”
“Even the archmage agrees with you. I am glad to have you on our side,” Marek laughed.
He turned to the last stranger, “Who may you be?”
The hunched cloaked stranger removed his hood to reveal a pale grey face. There was no hair on his oily skin, nor a nose. His eyes were black save for his irises that were a milky white, there were no pupils.
He straightened his back. His neck was half a meter long, the vertebrae could be seen pushing against the skin in the back. His legs were similar in shape with a lion’s, standing on his toes rather than his feet. At his full height he stood a little over ten feet.
“And I thought you were a monster, my lord,” Nokuti whistled.
“I am an axlean, not a monster,” the tall creature frowned.
Dawn pointed up, “Grim. From the Azure Realm.”
“Grim is it? My enemies are terrified when they see me on the battlefield. I can’t imagine what they will feel when they see you,” Marek grinned.
“Nothing. They’ll be dead,” Grim said curtly.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of your kind. I’m glad the twins were able to find an elemental species to join our cause,” Crow said.
“You’ve been to the Azure Realm?” Grim asked, mildly surprised.
“Once or twice. I’d love to see your beautiful seas once more, but as you can imagine, travel between Realms is quite difficult,” Crow shrugged.
“Yes, I admit having these two archmagi and their chromatic skills is beyond luck. After the Schism I never thought it would be possible to enter a new Realm. I’m glad these twins proved me wrong,” Grim put his hood back on.
“Indeed, but having you all here is something even greater,” Marek stretched his arms out wide. “Your dream of glory and riches has only just begun.”
“And what do you dream of?” Kyriil the elf furrowed his brow.
“The destruction of the ebon lords’ city, Hollow Shade. Help me end it’s tyrannical reign over Dusk Valley and we will both achieve our dreams,” Marek spoke with conviction.
“Why else do you think we came, silly boy,” Lysaila laughed softly.
Marek turned to the icy water of Hoarfrost Bay off in the distance and imagined Dusk Valley hundreds of miles away. It would take some time to reach home and even more time to subjugate the few remaining Valley tribes, but soon his conquest would truly be alive.
Marek reached his hand out to the distant horizon as if he could grab the future itself, “My comrades, let us begin.”