"Will they still be men? Will they still have mortal flesh and bleed, as men do?
It is a question that not a few will ask, once the Sons have discovered their fates.
They will know Death, like no other creature before them has.
Yet they will be alive, like no other creature will be.
They MUST be both Life and Death, if there is to be even a single hope
That they will safeguard an entire universe from the Darkness to come."
- from an unknown author, scrap of text found in the Druidic Archives
A warm rush filled him then Shawn felt it drain just as quickly away. As it did so, a blue-white glow grew into being around the whole of Thom's limp body. There it remained for a brief moment then Thom's flesh flushed with life as the Alisairan prince took a long, shuddering breath.
<<Maker, what the frost happened?>> he moaned hoarsely, his eyes fluttering open as he painfully moved his body into a more comfortable position.
<<A quick trip to the Beyond and back, old friend,>> Shawn said with a smile, already sketching another sealing rune over the jagged tear in Banik's side just to Thom's right.
<<Uhhhhh.>> Thom rubbed his head, wincing as he did so. <<I don't recall you waking up with a headache like this one.>>
<<Most likely because I didn't wake up alive, just reanimated,>> Shawn chuckled, then was commanding the Star Sword to summon Banik's soul back from the beyond: "Zhivum korado istum!"
A final set of sealing runes and commands and Feladorn joined them, sitting back against the wall as he tried willing the pain in his head to subside.
<<Okay, remind me never to die again,>> the Lusinoran husked, eyes closed as he licked dry lips and coughed.
<<Done.>> Shawn stood, the Star Sword still naked in his hand. He glanced at the door beyond which the sounds of a raging battle still echoed. <<Now, if we can find Dezi, ...>>
<<Consider me found, my Shawn,>> the dark elf maiden quietly suggested as she stepped out of the shadows behind and to Shawn's right, her face a mask of determination as she visibly worked to keep the pain of her bruised and battered body from stopping her moving. <<The Shadow soldier thought me dispatched. But no Shadow can match the strength of the Silver Flame.>>
<<Good to hear.>> A rune of healing sketched in Dezi's direction made her gasp as the pain of her injuries disappeared as the injuries themselves were healed in a rush of energy. Three more healing runes got Banik, Thom and Feladorn to their feet.
<<Now we need to get out of here. But I'm not sure what exactly is going on in the hallway outside. So if you want to take a quick look around for weapons, I'll see if I can do a quick reconnoiter with my new abilities.>>
<<Before you do, . . .>> Dezi said in a low voice, stepping close. Then she was in Shawn's arms, kissing him deeply and passionately.
When she stepped away a moment later, leaving Shawn's head spinning and his heart pounding, she favored him with a small smile, her eyes wide as they drank him in.
<<Welcome back fully to the land of the living, my Shawn, Wielder of the Star Sword!>>
The soft declaration made three sets of eyes snap around and focus on the massive sword now in Shawn's hand.
<<Frost me,>> Feladorn said weakly, his heart suddenly in his throat as he watched the dance of runic light cascading up and down the heavy blade. <<You did it, Shawn. You found the Weapon of Power!>>
<<Aye, that I did,>> Shawn confirmed with a nod, visibly shaking off the effects of Dezi's stunning greeting. <<And I'd be glad to tell you all about it, but not now. First, let's deal with what's outside, yes?>> His eyes half closed as he spoke just under his breath: "Vydem polje."
With a sweeping shift of perception, Shawn found himself looking into the hallway just outside the chamber's door and, beyond that, out into the great open space of the concourse.
<<Frosty hell!>> he husked, eyes flying wide at what he witnessed unfolding there. Then his perception was back in his body, standing in the archival chamber. <<The elven Ka'thesck soldiers are attacking their Tjor'riin comrades in the concourse!>> he announced in an incredulous voice, a look of disbelief on his face.
The five friends rushed out into the corridor where they immediately skidded to a stunned halt as an incredible battle vista unfolded before their very eyes. Shawn was indeed correct; with a fury they had not seen before in the turned elves who swore allegiance to the shadow, they fought the tjor'riin, each span of the voluminous concourse contested with bitter determination.
<<What does this mean?>> Banik said hoarsely, eyes wide as he watched a knot of elves swarmed over by ten times the number of tjor'riin, yet fighting all the way down to the ground, not giving one iota without the fiercest resistance. <<Have the soldiers of the enemy finally lost their minds with the death of their taskmaster, the Shadowmaster?>> The shattered body of the Ka'thesck general hadn't escaped their notice, being that it lay so close to where Shawn had revived them.
<<No,>> Shawn grimly answered, eyes narrowed as he too studied the battle with expert eyes. <<I sense the Star Sword has awoken them to a realization of their treachery with its own reawakening.>> A thin smile touched his lips. <<They now fight to wash the stain of that treachery from their very souls!>>
Even as Shawn made his dark announcement, they watched a phalanx of elves spin into the tjor'riin ranks, screaming: <<For the Light and the Lord Wielder!>>
<<They know you have the Weapon, Shawn,>> Feladorn noted, turning to look at Shawn with wondering eyes.
<<Soon the whole world will know, friend Feladorn,>> Dezi pointed out, stepping up to slip her hand into Shawn's free one, giving it a squeeze. <<And they will know it started here, with the rebirth of the Silver Flame in one most unexpected.>>
Shawn couldn't help the smile that touched his lips as he returned Dezi's hand squeeze. She was quite right; no elf could've believed a human would've found the Weapon of Power. They couldn't even believe one could keep up with their warrior culture.
Yet here he was, Star Sword in hand, not only keeping up but excelling. Who would've guessed fate giving him this? A thought wiped the smile from his face: the prophet of the Norak Utterance had.
<<What are we going to do, Shawn?>> Feladorn continued. <<Do we use the sudden rebellion and the chaos it's creating amongst the Ka'thesck soldiery to slip out unnoticed? Or do we lend the elves a hand? By my count, they're heavily outnumbered and, despite the magnificent effort we're witnessing, they're about to be overcome.>>
<<They're blood traitors and worshippers of the Shadow,>> Thom interjected, his face uncharacteristically hard. <<Regardless of whether they've been turned back to the Light or not, they deserve to die. Let the tjor'riin wipe them out and we'll use the tumult to slip free.>>
<<We dark elves too were creations of the Shadow, Thom,>> Dezi flatly pointed out, her eyes hooded. <<Yet by the Silver Flame did we repent of the filth that filled our souls and did become great soldiers of the Light. Will you deny these elves, your kin and returned to the Light by the power of the Star Sword, the same opportunity?>>
<<That's different, Dezi, ...>> Thom began to retort, turning to look at Dezi, his gaze hot.
<<No, it's not,>> Shawn bluntly declared, cutting into the debate before it grew even hotter. <<The ability to forgive separates us from the creatures of the Shadow.>> He looked over at Feladorn.
<<We help them.>>
He once was a captain in Elvenfast's Home Guard, decorated for his service in protecting the High King's capital in the long cycles before the Var Ethisdil reached out to the scattered elven clans in the half remembered time before the chaos of the Diaspora. Then he fell to the smooth words of the powerful cleric, Gerumenum, who promised fame, power, and money for his services and gripped by a strange, feverish greed, he began his journey away from the Light into the Shadow.
Embracing his new allegiance, he fought against those he once called 'brother' and 'friend' in the eleven cycles of civil war against the Aeshin'laur alliance, thinking the Utterance folly. That is, until this day when, in a wave of cleansing light, his doubt, anger, greed, frustration and self loathing were swept away. In their wake, like clean spring water being poured into an empty vessel, knowledge of the Utterance's truth and the power of the Wielders rushed into his mind. And, with words screamed into the battle-torn air of the concourse, he pledged himself to the Light and to washing away his treachery with his very blood.
And so, when a tjor'riin blade cut through the thick part of his leg, opening his femoral artery to spill his blood onto the already blood-darkened floor, he found himself silently rejoicing that, at long last, after sending nearly a full twenty tjor'riin to their deaths he would make the final payment to buy back his soul from the Shadow's dark vaults. He wasn't quite ready however to see the tjor'riin who cut him down, fall itself, an Aeshin'laur fletched arrow sprouting in its chest like a macabre flower to punch it back to fall to the floor where it thrashed out the last shades of its thin life. Then the concourse lit up with ancient magic as wave after wave of rushing sensation rippled over him as powerful spells began their work.
He blinked, not wanting to believe it. Those they had hunted, the Wielder of the Star Sword himself, were they now coming to the aide of those who once were traitors? Then all doubt was erased when a powerful form stepped out of the growing gloom that was his dwindling vision as his life continued to escape out his torn femoral, reaching out and leaving a glowing sigil hovering over his body.
Then he was being helped to his feet by strong hands.
<<Stand, friend,>> a warm voice urged, the accent Aquilan. <<You're not finished quite yet.>> Then the voice's owner was moving on, his presence a brilliant beacon of light in the heart of midnight. And in that moment the former captain of Elvenfast's Home Guard knew who he now would kneel to.
<<We've turned the tide,>> Feladorn reported, pausing just long enough to loose his last arrow to drop a tjor'riin soldier who, upon spotting the knot of elves working their way down onto the battle-torn concourse floor, had foolishly decided to charge them. The shadow soldier's abruptly limp body quickly joined those of hundreds of its kin, now liberally heaped about the floor, most of them bearing the brutal marks of undeniably powerful sa'anish magic.
To say the Wielder of the Star Sword was efficient and effective in battle was a gross understatement. In mere moments what had been a near rout of the handful of surviving Ka'thesck elves was rapidly reversed to an overwhelming victory for them.
<<Turned the tide?>> Thom rasped, a hand axe in each hand. His quiver had long been exhausted in the brief defense in the hallway before a slashing tjor'riin sword had temporarily ended his life. <<I'd say we've become the ocean itself! If I had any arrows left, I doubt I could even find a tjor'riin to put one in at this point.>> He paused to look past Banik and to the space Shawn had been occupying.
<<Speaking of overwhelming forces, has anyone seen Shawn? Or Dezi?>>
It was Banik who silently replied, pointing to the last knot of tjor'riin left on the concourse still alive. That is, until a figure glowing with unimaginable power gestured and cables of blue-white energy lanced out from his body to cut them down.
Shawn drew in a long, shivering breath and let his hold on the power of the universe drop, the torrent of energy that it was sluicing out of him until at last he was empty of it. In its wake, aching fatigue took hold of him, gnawing into bone and twisting muscle until Shawn was gritting his teeth against it.
<<Victory is revealed by the light of the Silver Flame,>> Dezi quietly announced as she stepped in close, her broadsword dark with tjor'riin blood as she held it two-handed at the ready, her bright eyes scanning the shifting shadows around them. But, as Shawn's did, her gaze only found the fallen; those foolish enough to resist the might and power of the Star Sword.
It was out of the gloom the battered survivors of the rebellion came, gingerly stepping over the bodies of the dead, both friend and foe, to approach the tired Shawn and carefully wary Dezi. At their head, the former Home Guard captain Shawn's healing magic had saved.
Coming within five paces of where Shawn and Dezi stood, the slow moving company came to a halt there, their faces unreadable as they gazed steadfastly upon the newly awakened Wielder of the Star Sword. Then, as one, they were kneeling, right knee down and the left up, bodies over the upraised knee with swords held by the blade in the left hand and the right clenched into a fist and pressed knuckles down to the ground.
<<What is this?>> Shawn asked in a voice heavy with fatigue, surprised by the unforeseen gesture, an old style salute from the time of the last elven High King.
<<We are those that call you master, Wielder of the Star Sword,>> the former Home Guard captain answered in a low, hoarse voice. <<For you have redeemed our souls out of Shadow by your awakening. In pledging our undying loyalty, we kneel to you now as your slaves.>>
The weary human turned his eyes to this elf, a thoughtful expression appearing on his face. Perhaps the Maker had granted this opportunity for a reason. He'd be a fool himself to ignore it.
<<I've no need of slaves, elf.>> A gesture sent the Star Sword around his body to hover close to his back, it's hilt visible over his head. <<But I do need soldiers. A dark tide is coming; one your former master desired to usher into the elven lands with blood and death.>> His eyes narrowed.
<<Will you pledge your lives in defense of the elven people and the world of Ramnor against this tide?>>
As one, as though they spoke an oath, the entire assembly of survivors answered:
<<We so pledge.>> And, as the words still hung in the still, heavy air, a rune drew itself over their bowed heads, a stylized twisting shape that had no beginning or end, flaring brightly with blue light before fading.
- And so they are bound to you, these former soldiers of the shadow, - the avatar announced in a formal voice into the depths of Shawn's mind.
<<Then stand, newly redeemed, and embrace your new role as soldiers of Light,>> Shawn said, feeling as if something significant had just been fulfilled in the Utterance.
Again, moving as one, the survivors stood, lifting their heads to gaze at him without wavering. With Dezi still wary beside him, Shawn let his eyes survey the assembled elves, each standing ramrod straight as though not heavily injured or exhausted as most of them were.
<<Cast aside the trappings of your former allegiance to the Shadow, for they have no place amongst you,>> he commanded and, without hesitation, the dark Ka'thesck uniforms were ripped away and thrown to the ground, quickly followed by the weapons they had carried with them into battle. In shades the assembly was again unmoving, both males and females naked except for small clothes, weaponless and without armor of any sort.
Meaning only for them to remove their uniform tunics in symbolic rejection of the Ka'thesck, Shawn was caught somewhat unprepared by the unified disrobing of the entire company. Nor was he prepared for the words that then spilled out of his mouth as if someone else spoke them:
<<And thus you stand in the Light, naked as the day you were born. For you are reborn this day as soldiers of Light and by your faith in the Light will you be clothed and armed for your battle against the Shadow.>>
Again runes formed themselves in the air without Shawn directing them, this time in front of the standing company: four sinuous shapes two hand spans tall, each glowing a different shade of blue as they formed the corners of an invisible rectangle approximately man high. Then the runes suddenly spread themselves apart until the space between the two pairs encompassed that being occupied by the company of survivors.
There they flared and a wall of blue light formed between the pairs, as thin as the runes themselves and as tall as the two top runes. Before Shawn could adjust to the abrupt change in the runes' position and the appearance of this strange wall of light, the rune pairs were streaking along the edges of the survivors' company, the wall of light being pulled along by their flight.
As this wall passed over each survivor, they were cocooned in blue light for an instant then release. And with the cocoon's disappearance each survivor's wounds and injuries were completely washed away, and their bodies were clothed in a high collared uniform of cobalt blue. Over this uniform of loose-fitting shirt, tunic and breeches of fine cloth was first a shirt of finely wrought mail, then a breastplate and back piece of polished steel.
The breastplate was joined by padded bracers of the same, strapped into place over the forearms, with steel-backed gauntlets, and flared shoulder guards attached to the breastplate to protect both the shoulder and the joint between the front and back shells also added to the armor. Scalloped hip pieces hung down from the waist to protect the hips while leaving freedom of movement and heavy black leather boots with steel shins and folded over tops finished the armor. Each was then armed with the sword preferred by their race; broadswords for the Lithosin and hand-and-a-half bastard swords for the Sylvasin, heavier than a rapier but half the size of the massive broadsword.
A leather strapped and reinforced triangular steel shield with a stylized star symbol in its center hung over the sheathed sword, a fine lined wool cloak in matching dark blue draped over that. A heavy bladed dirk, belt pouch, supply and equipment backpack, a filled water skin and a brace of hand axes for the Sylvasin finished off the magically assembled kit.
<<Your faith has provided,>> that alien voice spoke through Shawn's mouth. At the same time, a heavy parchment scroll materialized in the air a span from the bemused human. Reaching out, he took the tube, untying the heavy cord holding it closed to quickly open it with a flick of his wrist.
Once opened, he noted at the top the title: Redeemed. Below the title marched a series of names, each penned in careful elven tlyphs.
<<What, . . what is that, Shawn?>> Dezi carefully asked, up to this point astonished into silence by the unfolding events.
<<The names of those the Star has redeemed from the Shadow,>> he replied, handing it to her to examine. Then, louder: <<From this day forward, those pardoned from acts committed in the Shadows shall be known as the Redeemed. Redeemed, are you ready to march against the Shadow?>>
<<We are ready, Lord Wielder!>> the company replied with one voice, strong and without hesitation.
<<Then we go.>> And with that, Shawn led the way out of the rubble filled concourse and up the makeshift ramp of broken stone leading out of the hole made in the building's roof.
****