Note: This is the 33th chapter in my fantasy novel, Legends Lost: Galdin, and we have begun Book 3. There are 52 chapters total and I will post 1 chapter every Friday. But if you wish to read the entire book now, it is available for purchase on Amazon, iBookstore, Kobo, B&N, and Smashwords.
Book Three
Sorrow's Triumph
Mournful victory of shouts and cheers;
Oblivious to one man's sneer;
Of the traitor in their midst.
She learns Truth's dark secret
Of betrayal and all it begets.
And the sting of Sorrow's Triumph.
Chapter I
The Realm of the Dead
The swollen bruise on Lord Trisk's cheek throbbed as he lay on the rough fibers of the rug in Vasagius' tent. Breathing shallowly, he ignored the pain in his body as he willed his mind elsewhere. Calloused hands seized his arms yanking him to his knees. His head flopped to the side as he wished for unconsciousness.
Fingers grabbed his hair jerking his head back so that he looked into the malicious face of Vasagius. Lord Trisk kept his face impassive refusing to reveal anything to this traitor.
"Lord Trisk," sneered Vasagius, "You didn't think I was going to let you die so easily did you?"
Lord Trisk remained silent.
"You were very vocal about my little rebellion making known how you thought I deserved death for trying to kill the royal family."
"You murdered the king and then hunted his wife and child down with impunity," spat Lord Trisk.
"It is time for the line of Tesnayr to come to an end," said Vasagius.
"With murder?"
"How do you think King Tesnayr achieved the throne?"
"He did not murder innocent people."
"No one's innocent."
"What do you want from me?" demanded Lord Trisk.
Vasagius smiled malevolently. "I'm glad you asked. Tell me about Galdin."
* * *
Trya stood in the darkness with Quesha as the portal sealed behind her. Straightening her shoulders, the elf walked onward refusing to second guess her decision. She had a job to do.
Crunch.
Trya bent down and touched what her boot had broken: white bits of bones and shells. She studied it frowning.
"Don't believe your senses," said Quesha. "This place is filled with the nightmares of others."
"So all souls are doomed to an eternity of misery?"
"No," replied Quesha, "Some do move on to a place of eternal joy. But as most people are miserable in life, they remain so even in death."
"So there is no hope?"
"There was while the phoenix lived." Quesha eyed Trya momentarily. "Come. Newly arrived souls are always on the farthest end of this place. Galdin shall be there."
The darkness of the realm of the dead closed on them permeating their mood. Carefully, Trya moved onward not liking the fact that she walked on old bones. Imagined or not, it seemed real enough. Eerie howls echoed around them. Their incessant noise sent chills down Trya's back forcing her to pause momentarily.
"Skulogs," said Quesha, "Guardians of this world."
Trya kept her face impassive. She remembered the legends about giant hounds that protected the realm of the dead from those who didn't belong. According to the same tales, these Skulogs kept the souls there in line. "I thought they were just stories."
"You'll find that here, those stories come to life."
The path narrowed into a tunnel. Trya bumped her head. Rubbing the sore spot, she bent low to walk through whereas Quesha stood erect. Dripping water echoed hollowly around them. Instead of bringing peace, it fed their anxiety. More howls sounded.
"They're getting closer," commented Trya.
"They caught our scent."
Trya tripped. She threw her hands out to catch herself. Instead they slipped on the slimy walls causing her to crash into the ground. She sank into oozing glop. Curious, Trya scooped some of it into her hand studying it.
The muck moved. Instantaneously, it turned into tiny insects and worms crawling up the elf's arms and legs. Trya jumped to her feet smacking them off of her. Tendrils escaped the wall wrapping around her neck. Choking, Trya yanked on the vine. A blast of light struck the thing that squeezed her forcing it to shrink back melting into the dark wall before disappearing. The black insects became the floor once more.
Still smacking her legs Trya eventually calmed herself. "What were those?"
"There are many horrors in this world. I suggest we move quickly to avoid more entanglements."
"More?"
"There are dark souls here. They feast off of the living as we do not belong."
More howls echoed around them.
Trya began to second guess her decision to come. An image of Galdin lying cold and dead on the grass fueled her resolve to continue. "Let's go. The sooner we find his spirit, the sooner this will be over."
Quesha walked onward taking the lead. Despite her added years, the sorceress moved briskly with determination. No warmth remained in that place; just the cold of loneliness. Fear flowed freely in the underworld.
"Why are you doing this?" asked the elf.
"I have my reasons," replied Quesha.
"You always have your reasons," said Trya, "I remember the stories about the help you provided Amborese, or even Tesnayr himself. In fact, whenever you do show up, there is trouble and not once do you give a valid explanation for doing what you do. What concern is Galdin to you?"
"Much."
Trya stopped. "Tell me. No riddles. No more mystery."
Frustrated, Quesha faced the elf. She had hoped to get through this without having to divulge information. "Without Galdin, the world will perish."
"Not another one of your 'the fate of the world depends on this'."
"But it does," said Quesha, "I don't expect you or anyone else to believe that one man could be so pivotal that his death would destroy us all. But that is the case with Galdin. The fate of Tesnayr relies on it."
"Really? You said yourself that he would never sit upon the throne even though he is the first born son."
"That is true."
"Well then—I assumed—"
"Only fools make false assumptions and you do not strike me as a fool, Trya. Do you honestly think that the only way he could bring peace to the five lands is by assuming the throne?"
"Then how?"
"He will save someone's life. It is that person who will bring peace."
"He's already done that."
"So you assume. The stone has shown me much, but not everything. What is left to do will come later."
"The future is not set," said Trya.
"No, but the danger still remains. By that alone I know that he has yet to fulfill what the stone has shown. Because when he saves that individual's life, the threat that currently plagues the lands of Tesnayr will be eradicated."
Soft steps filled their ears as Trya walked onward in silence pondering what Quesha had said. "The stone of Elya was destroyed long ago. How could you have learned all this?"
"You think I came by these revelations recently. I had the stone for a thousand years before Amborese destroyed it. Everything I know was revealed before then. Why do you think I returned to the lands of Tesnayr when I did?"
"So you knew of this threat."
"Yes."
"And you never bothered to warn anyone?"
"Would you have listened? Would anyone?"
Tyra's silence confirmed Quesha's suspicion.
"The threat had to arrive before anyone heeded my words and even then none of you listened."
"You still never answered my question: what is Galdin to you? Why do you care about the fate of Tesnayr?"
Quesha eyed the elf a moment debating her answer. "I learned the terrible lesson of what occurs when you do not care about what happens in this world. When you do nothing. I'll not make that mistake again."
"Changing death isn't the best way to go about it," commented Trya.
"And yet you are here."
Trya pursed her lips. She hated this entire affair, but Nylana's pleading tugged her heart and her emotions. "You do realize that even if we succeed in finding Galdin, neither of us will be granted peace. We will be cursed to spend eternity in this place."
"I knew the cost when I came. And so did you. Come what may, I'll not stand idly by while the lands of Tesnayr slip into darkness once again. I will gladly suffer the torments of this place if it means the five lands endure a while longer."
Trya stared into the sorceress' eyes. She read the truth within them.
More howls resonated around them filling them with anxiety. They were close. Too close.
"We've lingered long enough," said Quesha. "We must find Galdin before they find us."
They left the tunnel and entered a vast expanse that spread far beyond what the darkness allowed them to see. A starless sky bore down upon them. Trya knew it was not a real sky, just a trick of the place they were in. Green and purple mist floated up from the ground enveloping them. Trya coughed.
"Poisonous gas," said Quesha, "Do not breathe it in."
Quesha hurried away. Trya followed close behind. Her boots pounded the ground that had now turned solid. Covering her mouth and nose, she tried to not inhale the deadly fumes. She coughed as some of the gas leaked through her fingers. Tendrils of the mist wrapped around Trya's wrists and burning pain flared up her arms as she yanked away. Blisters dotted the skin where the mist had touched her.
"Do not let it grab you!"
Quesha's warning came too late. More tendrils from the mist shot toward them. Trya tripped as something snatched her ankle. Kicking, she shook it off jumping to her feet and running hard.
"This way," said Quesha heading for a black, metal door.
Trya had no idea where the door had come from, but she heeded the sorceress' orders.
Quesha placed her hand on the steel door. Its cold exterior consumed her hand sending a tingling sensation up her arm. Slowly, the grinding of gears filled their ears as the door opened, lifting just enough to allow them entrance.
"This is the place of souls," said Quesha as she motioned the elf through. "Galdin's spirit will be here. But be careful. The guards will not let him leave and if they find us, then we will become trapped in this desolate place."
Eerie silence engulfed them as they tiptoed through the dark expanse unsure of what to expect. Trya practically choked on the lack of air movement. No breeze. No wind. The stifling interior made breathing nearly impossible. Cautiously, the elf pulled out her bow, ready to fight should anything chance upon them. All was quiet; too quiet.
"Follow my every step," said Quesha pointing to a barely visible path before them. "If you stray even a little, they will be upon us."
Quesha placed her feet directly in front of the other creeping along the narrow rocks. Trya followed exactly. Thankful that elves were imbued with an excellent sense of balance, she hopped from rock to rock with ease. This is almost too easy, she thought.
As though the underworld had heard her, a long, menacing growl echoed around them. Trya stopped.
"They are quick," muttered Quesha. "Run!"
Trya's long legs stretched across the expanse as she dashed across the rocks to the other side. The growls grew louder as more joined in. Shapes rose from the ground around them. With horror, Trya realized that these shapes were the very rocks that she stood upon, except they took on a more humanoid appearance.
Long, gangly arms reached for her with bony fingers dripping in a sticky substance. Gnarled heads protruded from the shapes that stumbled for her. Their non-existent eyes unnerved Trya as she ran for the place Quesha indicated.
"Head for that opening," shouted Quesha.
Trya sped for it, but with each step she took, the opening seemed to move away. Nails raked against her skin as the claw like hands grabbed for her. She shook one off.
Trya's foot slipped as the rock she jumped for moved, transforming into one of the creatures. Crashing onto the remaining jagged rocks, the elf's back stung as bits of skin were scraped off. Instantly, the creatures were upon her. They jumped on her covering her body. Desperately, Trya threw them off, but to no avail as the swarming black mass of demons snaked for her.
She ripped her bow apart exposing the two swords. Trya jabbed one of the creatures in the face. Screaming in agony the thing backed away. Trya stabbed another. It too wailed in pain. Suddenly, Trya realized that these things could not stand the touch of an elven blade. Wildly, she swung her weapons in every direction forming a circle above her. The dark creatures backed away as the sharp steel scraped their rubbery hides.
Trya jumped to her feet. She leapt from rock to rock desperately trying to maintain her balance as they wobbled beneath her.
"Keep going!" yelled Quesha.
Trya didn't need to be told. A boulder shifted below her. She pierced it with her sword causing it to shrivel into a gnarled mass that burst when she leapt off of it. Black ooze covered her. Agony seized her as the sludge burned her skin causing it to peel off in flakes. Screaming in pain, Trya tumbled over.
A hand seized her. Strong arms pulled her up to safety pushing her and guiding her to the other side. Barely conscious, Trya allowed whomever it was to direct her movements.
"Adon nai. Adon nai."
The chanting continued until the pain subsided, becoming a dull, but constant throbbing.
"Do not let their filth touch you," warned Quesha. Black goo covered her as well, but she gave no indication that it affected her. "Now go. The opening is there. Do not believe your eyes. They deceive you."
It took several moments for Trya to realize that the sorceress referred to the fact that the opening appeared to move. She jumped to another rock before it transformed into a creature. Suddenly, she realized that no one followed her. Turning around, Trya watched as Quesha stood her ground facing the onslaught of writhing beasts.
"Quesha," yelled Trya.
"Go on," shouted the sorceress. "You must continue without me. Find Galdin. Barter for his soul."
Quesha pulled a blue orb from her pocket. Gripping it tightly in her hand, she held it high above her head facing the creatures with determination. Their screeches and growls did little to sway her.
"GO!"
Trya turned and darted for the opening never looking back.
"Come now, you foul beasts," said Quesha, her voice booming throughout the chamber overpowering the shrieks of the demons. She glanced upward as one would when praying to the heavens. I know you will never approve, she thought, but it must be done.
"Come what may!"
Quesha squeezed the orb in her hand. Bright light erupted from it spreading outward, filling every crevice. A moment of stunned silence followed only to be drowned by an earth shattering explosion. The force of the impact swept through the horde of creatures vaporizing them until nothing remained.
Trya jumped from rock to rock not daring to slow down. Lightly, her feet touched the jagged edges barely leaving an impression as she leapt to the next one. Breathing heavily, she moved as quickly as she could until she touched solid ground. Not wasting a moment, Trya ran, pushing herself onward in an effort to stay ahead of the blast. She squeaked through the small opening just in time to avoid falling rocks and pelting body parts of the dismembered creatures.
Solemnly, Trya paused paying her last respects to the sorceress. No more would Quesha walk the earth.
There will be no return.
Trya remembered Quesha's words as they echoed through her mind. She had known this would be a one way trip.
Pushing all sadness aside, the elf walked onward. Ghosts of people surrounded her.
"I didn't mean to," said one in a hollow voice.
"Please," wailed a woman, "Take me away from here."
Trya wandered past them in wonderment. None of them looked at her. None of them acknowledged her presence. They were just echoes of their former selves. Slowly, Trya walked past the opaque figures searching for Galdin. This had to be the place.
"Echoes of ourselves," said a strong voice, "That is what we are. Echoes doomed to remain here until he returns."
Curious, Trya walked over to the lone figure. He was an elf killed in a war that took place long ago. She recognized the shield. It dated back to Tesnayr's day. Strangely, Trya felt as though the figure spoke to her, though he never looked at her directly.
"Echoes," he repeated, "We all come here until a far better place is made for us."
"Far better place," said Trya.
She thought back to the traditions of her people, traditions she had spurned a long time ago. The elves believed that all souls went to a dark place where they remained until purified. Some went insane forgetting who they once were. Others never lingered long in the realm of the dead. But all who died went there. A form of judgment her mother had called it. Trya had never paid much heed to it. She had found the elves' traditions too constricting; one reason why she left Belarnia.
Now she stood here before an elf repeating what her mother had taught her. Trya began to wonder if perhaps she should have paid better attention. She reached out to touch the figure. Her fingers went right through it leaving a wet, chilled feeling on her flesh. She yanked her arm back.
"You shouldn't be here."
Trya jumped. The elf looked directly at her.
"What?"
"You do not belong here," said the elf. "This is a place meant for the dead not the living."
"How—" Trya could not believe that this elf knew her. The others remained unaware of her presence; she was but a spirit to them. But this elf talked directly to her.
"Your being here violates all laws," scolded the elf.
"Please," pleaded Trya, "You must tell me where Galdin is. I must find him. War rages in the world above and we need him."
"War always ravages the land."
"Please," said Trya, "Where is Galdin?"
The elf looked up as though he listened to something.
Bewildered, Trya watched him. "Will you not help us?"
"Tell her, she holds hope in her pocket."
Frustrated, Trya reined in her temper as the elf spoke gibberish. "Tell whom? I need to find Galdin. I know he is here."
"The true heir of Tesnayr," said the elf, "She is with your friend's remains as we speak."
"Nylana?" Trya shook her head. Questions burned in her mind, but time was not her friend. Forcing her brain to focus she asked once more, "Where can I find Galdin?"
"The line of Tesnayr is not here, but further in. Walk until you see its crest. There you shall find your friend."
"Thank you," said Trya as she walked off.
"Be warned, young elf," said the elf stopping her, "A trade must be made."
Trya eyed him a moment, but the elf had gone back to ignoring her, muttering more nonsense.
"I'm sorry," said a small child as she passed more souls. He never noticed her.
Trya pushed her way through the gigantic chamber of spirits. Sometimes she paused to observe them as they stood enveloped in silver light unaware of her trespassing. No creatures came for her. No one talked to her. Only that elf had; a curiosity that plagued her mind.
Trya paused. A wooden door barred her way. She brushed cobwebs away from it surprised that such things existed here. Slowly, the crest of Tesnayr revealed itself. Excitement coursed through her veins as she pushed it open and stepped through the archway and into another room.
"Nylana!"
Trya whirled around. Galdin stood to her left wrapped in the same silver light, reliving his last moments alive.
"Galdin!" Trya ran to him.
"I am sorry, Nylana," said Galdin.
Tears welled in Trya's eyes as she realized that he did not see her. Like the others, he remained unaware of her presence. Unsure of what to do, Trya stood there staring at Galdin as he continued to relive those last moments before he died. What do I do? A headache formed as she thought about her options.
She didn't want to leave him. She couldn't. Quesha had told her there was no going back.
"Trading him his own apples."
Trya smiled as she realized that Galdin remembered the day Ryk sold a merchant his own stock to acquire money for their passage on a ship.
It hit her. Trade; that was what the old elf had meant. The true meaning of why she would never leave dawned on her. She had to choose to stay. A soul for a soul.
"Galdin," she said, "Hear me. You must return. I will take your place. The lands of Tesnayr need you."
"Protect Nylana."
Trya looked up to the nothingness above her. "Do you hear me?" she shouted, "I will remain here. Free Galdin. Take me instead."
"Trya." Galdin looked at her. "Trya, no!"
Trya stared at Galdin; a sorrowful expression on her face. The thought of leaving him ached her heart, but her desires were unimportant. She had made a promise to Nylana.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, "But the world needs you more than me."
The rings of light encircling Galdin released him as they hovered over to her. All thoughts of the world and of life left as the light enveloped her. The thought that she had one last thing to do gnawed at her. Holding on to her thoughts a bit longer, Trya gave the elf's message to Galdin. "Tell Nylana that she holds hope in her pocket. Tell her!"
"Trya—No!"
A rift appeared above them. Fierce winds descended from the rift and howled around them seizing Galdin and pulling him to it. He hovered above the ground as his feet left it.
"Good-bye, Galdin."
The winds stopped. Galdin had gone, leaving Trya alone in death's realm muttering nonsense like the others.
Tune back Next Friday for the next chapter.
You can buy this book and the rest of the Legends Lost series at Amazon, B&N, Kobo, iBooks, and Smashwords. You can follow me on Twitter (JMRUL), or like my Facebook page. For more information, see www.legendslosttrilogy.com. Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!