prologue through chapter 5

Prologue

Before Olo Eopia left, destined to journey to Gwynedde, he created gates to the elemental planes and brought back part of their natural essence. He knew that evil would rise again to threaten the ancient land of Avalon. He knew that nothing he could do would prevent its coming. He would instead provide a weapon with which evil could be fought. An so Olo Eopia wove and forged great magic from the essences of the elemental planes, and scattered them throughout Avalon. But Aingeastach, attempting to prevent Merlin from protecting Avalon, made his own planar gate and brought back the Gauntlet of the Abyss, with which he could summon demons from the Abyss. Merlin hid these talismans until they would be needed, until his heir, the heir of Merlin Olo Eopia, would come forth unto his own.

Chapter One
Ill Tidings

Vidar shivered. He knew something was coming, and whatever it was, it meant no good for Caer Einar. From the horizon, off to the north, a dark cloud was spreading. The large man turned back to spreading goat dung over his vegetables. Ill tidings came from the north. Tales of a man, an evil man, and terrifying beasts, filled rumors. Tales of a man who was determined to subdue all of Avalon…and would stop at nothing to achieve this goal.
An Evil had come.
Caer Einar had lived in peace and prosperity for centuries, its residents tilling the rich earth. Indeed, this mighty city had been known as a place of refuge for all who needed such protection since the very beginning of Avalon. War had never come to its reddish brown walls, and Vidar would have been perfectly happy to have ended his days with his beautiful wife Devona and his three happy children.
But in his heart the he knew that it could not be so.
An Evil had come.
Yet beyond this all, he knew he must preserve It. It was the secret that his family had been sworn to protect and preserve, at any cost. It was the secret he had sworn his wife and children to protect similarly.
A chill gust of wind rippled through his body for his body was made of nothing. It also swept the orchard, playing with the corners of his cloak. He shivered, and somehow knew that the Evil now in Avalon was looking…for him. And more importantly, the secret he held. It made little sense now, but his too-many-to-count-great-grandfather said that the old man who had laid this curse upon his family had such steel in his clouded eyes that he knew he could not refuse.
An Evil was coming.
The merchant from the Citadel had come yesterday. By this time in the year, there should have been many. But this year, only one. He came with a wild look in his eyes, half dead and suffering from serious trauma. He fell into a coma soon and was near death. What could possibly have scared him so much?
********
That night he heard the beating of the drum, a dull rhythmic throbbing that pounded ceaselessly. Running to the wall, he saw a vast twinkling display of fire, stretching for miles. The myriad lights were leagues off, yet the light still seemed to cast a shadow of despair over the land of Earnan.
"Oh,..." he breathed, still astounded by the immensity of the lights, the terrifying danger still sinking in. He knew no expletives that could describe the panorama laid before him.
This was the end.
There would be nothing else.
The Evil was here.
********
Vidar fled Caer Einar that night with his family, knowing there was no hope. He traveled to Caer Eachan, following the instructions given his father's father too far back to count, time out of mind. There he gave the secret to the appointed contact.
********
The next day, Caer Einar fell. The city of peace, of refuge, was nothing more than rubble in a matter of days, demolished by the fire of the Demons.
Aingeastach had come.
********
Vidar died soon after, leaving behind his wife and three children. He died with the knowledge that he had fulfilled his duty, that there was nothing more he could do.
********
After the brutal destruction of Caer Einar, the mauling, torturing, and live feeding of human survivors to demons, Earnan fell. Scarce a blow was struck, but the sheer awe and despair of Aingeastach's mighty horde of demons brought once brave and proud men to helplessness and terror. One by one, cities handed in their surrender. Families stood weeping in the streets, fearing not only for their own lives, and more for the lives of their children.
Some tried to escape. A few survived and found their way to Luthair; others went to the Dragon's back and beyond. But most were caught by demon patrols sent by Aingeastach to surround cities.

There was little weeping the day the demons came to occupy the cities of Earnan. Most were shocked into petrified silence at the sight of the demons: some standing twelve feet tall, others were flying, still others on four legs, still more representing all manner of unholy creatures. There was but a few whimpers from the youngest, hurriedly hushed by parents with tearstained cheeks.
Aingeastach quickly placed an iron fist over Avalon, inspecting and controlling nearly every aspect of their lives. A dark cloud covered Earnan, sinking down in smoky tendrils to mask the land.
Always darkness.
Always despair.
But the secret lived on.

Chapter Two

It was night now. Not that it made much difference from day. The fire crackled, casting a dim light onto the walls of the small cottage. The old man continued. "And that time when the elemental talismans would be needed soon came to pass. Aingeastach brought forth his creatures of fire, the minotaurs, the glabrezu, the tanar'ri, and all manner of wicked beasts, determined to capture these elemental objects before they could be used to defeat him. But he was too late. Merlin had given each race of elves one of the talismans to protect the land of Avalon and to halt Aingeastach's power. Now Aingeastach could not control all of Avalon, he could dominate only a part of it. He determined to put the race of Men to work building his kingdom, his fortresses and great machinges of war, for he soon intended to wage war upon the free peoples of Avalon, the Elves, the Dwarves, the Giants, and all who dared oppose him. He enforced his rule with his awful beasts and demons which could only be truly destroyed by magic. But magic had all but deserted Avalon, remaining only in small amounts among the Faerie Peoples. Aingeastach began his takeover one hundred and fifty years ago, and ever since then he has enslaved the race of Men. So, you see, Merlin Olo Eopia's prophecy has come true, but for the coming of his heir. That is indeed a time we all hope and pray will come soon."
The fire crackled again, shooting out sparks. Lledra hardly noticed. Working nearly all his life under the lash of demons had hardened him to the pain of flame. All over the age of four years were required to work for Aingeastach for most of the day, leaving them barely enough time to farm enough food for their own families, and less still time to enough time to enjoy themselves. If any were found in the homes after the work gong sounded, they would be devoured alive. Only the Gauntlet of the Abyss, the Lamhainn dhe Abheis, in the old tongue and the threat of being taken from the moy of walking the Prime Material Plane, their greatest desire, kept them in check. Even then this was often not enough, for it was not unexpected to find that, at the end of day, someone had died at the hands of the demons. Sometimes the promise of human flesh was too much for Aingeastach's creatures to resist.
All this had passed through Lledra's mind in little more than an instant. He reflected back to his childhood, when he had pretended and dreamed of being a general who led a great army to defeat Aingeastach. Now all he dreamed about was an end to this living nightmare. Oh, the work was not so bad, and they usually had enough to eat. But in truth it was a hollow existence, for no matter what was in this cage, no matter how much he had to eat or how little he had to work or how warm he was on the frigid winter nights of Caer Eachan and the surrounding land of Earnan, the simple truth was that it was still a cage. A cage of unyielding iron bars that would not break or bend. Oh, how he would like to rebel against Aingeastach, take back the cities of Avalon and drive him forever from their lands! But the weapons of man could not truly destroy a demon, only send him back to the Abyss, where no doubt he would soon be brought back to the Prime Material Plane by the Lamhainn dhe Abheis. It was a perpetuating circle of evil and despair that could only be broken by the coming of Merlin's heir.
The sound of Kyna's voice brought Lledra back to the present. "But why could not the Faerie Peoples bring the Elemental Talismans into battle and free us?" Lledra smiled, knowing that Iulmhionna would spend most of the remainder of his time at their cottage fending off his smallest sister's questions. His thoughts were again interrupted by the old man, his face tightening in some pain with his answer. "There is…a tremendous amount of hate and distrust between the races. When Aingeastach invaded, the Faerie Peoples were scattered widely. Even now, the Enemy thinks them to be disorganized and few, no urgent threat. But," the old man leaned closer and lowered his voice, "There are rumors that perhaps they are not so scattered. Perhaps, the rumors say, it is time for a rebellion, time to throw off the chains of our oppressors." The old man leaned closer still. "If there were such a rebellion, would you join?"
Lledra's father cleared his throat. "There are, as you understand, certain complications, most of which seriously endanger my life and the lives of my family. He was hhalted by aa suden noise.
The door banged open to reveal two mariths, curfew patrol. "And what have we here?" hissed on in a voice that dripped danger. "An old man out of his house. And why, may I ask, does he sit with the family of Aodh?" The demeanor of Iulmhionna suddenly changed. He crouched lower and said in what seemed a more feeble voice, "I was begging for food." The marith grinned, a grin full malice. "And how would you like to leave this world? Of old age or eaten by a marith? Leave this place with your life or," the marith grinned again, "you may stay without it!"
The old man hurriedly shuffled past Lledra, sliding something to him in the shadows beyond his leg, then stumbled out into the street, hobbling down the road as fast as he could go.
Lledra sighed as he went to bed. In the morning he would go to work, as his family did, as his friends did, as he was destined to do until life was taken to him by age, he was killed, or eaten.


Chapter Three
To Kill a Demon

Bong, bong, bong. The harsh sound of the work gong woke Lledra from his sleep and promptly sent him scrambling from out of his blankets. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and slurped down his porridge, quickly followed by his family rushing out the door to join the growing throng of people detailed to work in the forest today. The villagers went at a hurried pace, trying to pacify the glabrezu and mariths that herded them. As Lledra walked down the path, he could not help but think, Why did Iulmhionna drop that knife as he left last night? It had happened as the old man left, dropping quietly from his robes. Lledra lost no time in taking it. Was it by accident, or by intention? If by intention, why? Lledra could only guess.
They came to a large clearing, with stumps in many places. The villagers were quickly divided into groups to chop down trees, cut trees, and clear stumps. Lledra was put into the second group. Taking his two-handed axe, he waited for the first tree to fall. As it was coming down, he tensed his muscles and leapt into the air. As the trunk was coming down, Lledra hooked his axe underneath the tree, abruptly halting his upward flight. But all that momentum had to go somewhere, and Lledra swung at the end of his axe, the fine blade cutting a trail into the trunk even as his body cut a trail through the air, arcing over the tree and under. When he reached the lowest part of his circular flight, he dropped to the ground and promptly rolled away to avoid being crushed by the falling tree. He then got up from the dusty earth and considered the tree, fallen like a seesaw over a rock on the ground. There was a few seconds of nothing. Then…the trunk heaved and split apart. He grinned in triumph, but then the flaming whip of the work master, one of the fearsome glabrezu, one of the most dangerous beasts of the Abyss, curled around his ankle, opening old wounds and creating new ones. The whip tightened, pulling Lledra in and unceremoniously dropping him on his back. The glabrezu's purplish-black face stared down at him, the many rows of teeth tightening in a malicious grin. "Always the troublemaker, eh? What I would expect from a son of Aodh! But it is time to teach you a lesson in knowing your place…beneath us! Beneath the mud you shall grovel in! M`iosleth!" this last word was directed to a lower taskmaster, a minotaur. "Have two of yours go to scout on the eastern edge of the clearing, and this one of them. You know what to do there." "You! And the old man!" the demon called M`iosleth growled to Lledra. Wondering whom the old man he spoke of was, Lledra craned his neck still within the glabrezu's grip to find that he referred to Iulmhionna, the Storyteller. The huge fiend hurled Lledra a full fifteen feet to slide to a stop mere inches from a fallen tree.
Shaken, he rose to follow the minotaur into the woods, only pausing long enough to pick up his fallen axe, still warm from its close encounter with the glabrezu.
Sunlight filtered through the trees, offsetting the evil that existed there. As they walked, Lledra noted that most of the trees were oaks, very old ones. The minotaur's face twitched for a moment in indecision, than ordered them to cut a few trees to estimate the time it would take to clear this area. Lledra turned to chop down the tree as he heard Iulmhionna's first stroke on the oak trunk. Even as he swung his axe, Lledra thought about what the glabrezu's words could have meant. Why did the fiend insist that he was one of the scouts? And what was meant by his last words to M`iosleth, "You know what to do there"? Was the glabrezu planning to hur-
Then the penny dropped, clanging and echoing in his mind, screaming the obvious danger to him. He whirled around to find the storyteller on the ground writhing in pain even as the minotaur was advancing on him with a whip, not fiery like the glabrezu's, but with a small blade at the end that the demon could whip in and out of your body before you felt or saw it strike. The minotaur smiled evilly as he saw that his next victim would die knowing it was hopeless, that there was no mortal power that could save him from the sting of the whip, the sting that would send him to the grave.
A thousand thoughts rushed through Lledra's mind, even as sheer desperation and fear flickered across his face for an instant. He steeled and told himself that he could survive, he could even win, to prevent his knees from collapsing. If I can shear the whip off, I can fight him on almost even terms, he thought. Then again, three hundred pounds of muscled and corded flesh wasn't exactly what could be called even terms, even if the minotaur didn't have the whip. Keep your feet spread, get ready to- this last thought was interrupted by the minotaur lashing out with the whip. Instinctively, Lledra swung his axe out and was rewarded with a sharp clink, as metal met metal. Exhilarated, Lledra pulled back for an attack of his own, but the whip came on again, impossibly fast, forcing him to duck even as the axe shot up to block again. The whip retracted, and Lledra told himself to aim for the point just behind the blade. The whip came out a third time, but this time he was ready. He swung his axe a little farther out and the steel blade of the axe sliced off the blade of the whip, its momentum carrying it whizzing past Lledra's head, slicing part of it in the process and burying itself deep with in a tree, accompanied by a resounding thunk. Stupid surprise found itself plastered across M`iosleth's brutish face. The minotaur shoved his astonishment aside and the whip flew towards Lledra a fourth time, but this time missing its blade. Lledra buried the rest of his fear and swung the axe butt out. Just as he had hoped, the whip coiled neatly around the handle. This next move required flawless timing. Even as the whip coiled, Lledra mustered all the strength in his limbs and jerked as hard as he could on the axe. Stupid surprise found its way to the minotaur's face for the second time that day as he discovered he was only holding the stock of the whip, the rest being torn off by his opponent's mighty tug. Deciding he did not need the whip after all, the fiend charged with a guttural roar, keeping one arm in close the ward off that pesky axe. Lledra quickly formulated a rudimentary attack plan, throwing out his axe in a vicious spin, intending to distract the demon long enough to implement the second part of his plan, which was to swing up through the branches of the oak that his back was against and drop down onto the demon's shoulders. As he had anticipated, M`iosleth's arm swung out, batting the axe aside as if it was a twig. However, he had not anticipated the axe coming back towards him! He moved to the side, quickly enough to avoid being sliced down the middle but not quickly enough to escape fully, the axe blade pinning his clothing to the tree. Lledra managed to pull himself free, but the demon came on before he could complete his escape, slamming him hard against the tree. Something cracked, and Lledra would have bet it wasn't the tree. The minotaur roared in his face, further numbing the mind shaken by the collision with wood. Somehow through the stupor, Lledra managed one coherent thought. The voice came to him as if it was not his own. The knife, it said, take the knife and fight. He groggily brought the knife out of his boot in a clumsy maneuver and made a stab towards M`iosleth. Somehow, he made it into the minotaur's belly. The creature gave a roar and ripped it out, throwing it useless to the side. Lledra's mind clouded. The minotaur was saying something. Something about how the human almost killed him. What? How could it kill him? Unless…maybe it was an enchanted blade. But it didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now except how to stay alive. Maybe if he could somehow slip out of the death grip of the minotaur, he could get over to the fallen knife. He began one last desperate struggle, pitting his whole being against the demon. He felt adrenaline rushing through his veins, and then--something else. It seared up from within his soul like a flame. It was a power that was made of part of him and something else entirely. He sank into unconsciousness, realizing he would never wake up.
Lledra felt something. Did this mean he wasn't dead? Could dead people feel physical things? He felt it again. He bolted upright and looked around. He was in a clearing. With a man lying at one end…it was like when he died. He took another look to find a minotaur. A minotaur that had killed him? Apparently not. Or if so, it killed the minotaur too. And the old man. He went over to the human in question. The Storyteller was lying on the ground, breathing shallowly. "Iulmhionna? Are you all right?" he flipped the man over. Blood oozed from a two-inch laceration in his side, from the demon's whip. "Iulmhionna?"
The storyteller groaned and raised his head. Seeing the panic-stricken youth before him, he smiled faintly. "Never do that again," he said almost lazily, "I was genuinely afraid for you."
Lledra chuckled hysterically. His knees shuddered. "How can you say that? You were in more danger than I!"
"Boy," he said, eyes flashing, "I have not lived this long to be killed by a minotaur." Lledra had never noticed how strangely indecipherable the eyes had been before. "What of the knife?" he asked. A graver expression filled the man's face. "I would very much appreciate it if you would keep and take care of that little blade," he said, "and do not lose it or reveal it under any but the most life threatening of circumstances. It is more valuable than you know. But now," Iulmhionna said, easing his old body into a standing position, "to business. You have just killed a demon." "Business? What sort of business? And I can't have killed it, can I?" Lledra questioned. "Patience, patience. You did kill the demon. You did not merely send it back to the Abyss. You destroyed its essence, and not entirely with that dagger, as you think." Lledra started. How had he known he was thinking that? "I do not know exactly whatever allowed you to do this, but I must ask you to join the resistance. One of such apparent…talent as yourself we cannot allow to go to waste. Please consider carefully this opportunity, as it will present other opportunities, most of which will be very dangerous to your health."
Lledra's mind was going faster and faster. He had killed a demon? And the old man expected him to join the resistance movement? How could he? And yet, how could he not? He resolved to think it over. Besides, he was in great danger now, whether or not the demons found he had truly killed M`iosleth. He quickly formulated an alibi with Iulmhionna as to M`iosleth's whereabouts. The old man told him the demon's corporeal form would dissipate in a few minutes, so they did not have to bury the body. He left for home, carefully laying a plan for survival.
His survival.


Chapter Four
Freedom's Price

Lledra mentally went over his plan. It wasn't very complicated or long. Good plans rarely were. At least, he hoped his plan was good.
He would simply be a nobody. He would blend in and call no attention to himself. No fancy axe tricks today, even if he could. Work detail was construction today. He fell into line, keeping his head down and trying his best to be inconspicuous. He took a quick look up. The glabrezu was there, and there was no other way in. Lledra moved to the far side of the procession and hunched a little more, but it was no use. As he walked past, that fiery whip snaked out and held his wrist fast. At least there was no ensuing jerk. "And why are you still here today? You must know I told M`iosleth to kill you. And, speaking of which, where is M`iosleth?" the glabrezu grated out, his hot breath washing over the human's face. Lledra took a deep breath, preparing to recite the false story he had concocted with Iulmhionna. "Well, the minotaur had had a bit of fun, as you can see by the slice on the side of my head. Then M`iosleth left, grumbling something about how tough the old man was. I don't know what happened to him. We stayed there, waiting, we even felled a few trees. He didn't come back, so when we were released from work, we went home." He held his breath then quietly sucked it in as the glabrezu lazily brought forth a whip blade then sent it spinning to stab the ground between Lledra's legs. "And what then, of this? From M`iosleth's whip, is it not? Why is it not still on his whip?" Lledra thought fast. "During one of M`iosleth's strikes, the blade buried itself in a tree. He decided to simply cut it free rather than pull it out." Lledra could see the confusion in the taskmaster's brutish face. Finally the glabrezu decalared, "Very well. I sent you with him to kill you, but since you have survived, I will let you live to work. Or," he added, reconsidering, "perhaps not. I want to see you after today's work. And if you are not there, you know what will happen." The glabrezu tightened his maw in a fiendish grin, allowing the human's imagination to run wild.
Lledra lifted the hammer, then let it fall. Rise, fall, rise, fall, was there nothing more to existence? Should he join the resistance, or no? What was the glabrezu planning for him? Lledra could only wait and hope.
The gong tolled, signaling the end of the work day. Usually Lledra was eager to leave, but this time he was not so quick to make his way towards the gate. The glabrezu was waiting for him. Waiting to single him out.
The glabrezu tied his hands behind his back, and ordered a marith to take him to the Fortress. He watched in glee as the human's face fleetingly betrayed his feelings, showing for an instant despair. A lead ball dropped in Lledra's stomach. This was most definitely not good. Not good at all. He knew few who had been taken to the demon's fortress, and fewer still had come back.
When they got there, he was taken to a room in the structure's bowels. Probably a torture room. Another door was opened. This was definitely a torture room. The demons got to work on him.
Lledra soon realized that they were not trying to extract any information from him, but simply taking sadistic pleasure because he had been a problem, albeit a small one. To try to dull out the pain, he thought of other things. It hardly mattered, because there was very little chance of his making it into the sunlight again in this mortal life. Should he join the resistance? As he tensed his muscles, he considered. On the one hand, here was a golden opportunity to help topple Aingeastach from his position of power. Iulmhionna had dropped hints about a gathering resistance movement in the free East, and they must have a plan for rebellion. Wasn't it even his duty to fight? But…why should he not stay in his position? After all, he could survive reasonably well, even under current conditions, if he tried harder not to stand out. And his father was clearly against joining such a movement, and how could Lledra possibly go against his family, his very father? Why should he give up his position of relative comfort to throw his lot in with such a foolhardy, even ridiculous, attempt? After all, wasn't it every man for himself? These and many other questions of similar nature came to his thoughts, vying for attention along with the waves of pain, growing more intense by the moment, bludgeoning his mind into oblivion. After what seemed like an eternity, Lledra came from pure unconsciousness to a sort of drunken stupor. The torture had stopped. He was slung over the demon's shoulder, being taken-where? Wherever they were going, it was up, and up meant air, sunlight, and life.
Finally, he was taken to a door. Lledra shook the grogginess from himself. He knew…that door. That was the door to survival! The gate opened. It was raining hard now. Lledra was heaved face first into the muddy quagmire that was called a street. A thousand emotions tumbling through his heart, Lledra had only one thought in his head as he raised his grimy face and stared determinedly toward the eastern horizon, the home of the free.
He would join the resistance.

Chapter Five
Escape



The more Lledra thought about it, the more resolute he became. He would join the resistance, he would fight, he would die if it would serve the purpose of freedom. Even if his father hated him forever, he would rather have his life serve some purpose for the good of others than continue his current existence.
When he reached the grove, the grove of trees where he had first been thrown into this insane situation, Iulmhionna practically pounced on him. "Will you join?" he asked breathlessly, his clouded eyes darting from side to side restlessly. Lledra took a deep breath. "I will join. But answer me this: If I had refused, what would have happened?" Iulmhionna stared directly into Lledra's eyes. "You would have died. We cannot afford to have any loose ends, especially not with our escape so close. And speaking of which," the Storyteller said, smoothly changing the subject, "We must discuss your part in this drama. We have plans to escape and join the Resistance in the Dragon's Back. But," he continued, "We ran into a slight problem."
"You see, we planned to go through the wall. We almost made it. But we discovered the demons had made the wall stronger than the villagers had built it. We could not get through. Luckily, we managed to cover up our trail. Since then, we have been waiting for a stronger force to help us." The old man leaned forward, his eyes boring holes. "You can help us. When you killed the demon, I sensed a force in you. It was a force that in time you may conduct and control to serve you. On that day it was uncontrolled, untamed. But we believe we can still focus enough energy through you to blow a hole the wall." Lledra worked quietly, slowly digesting the information laid before him. After what he had seen, how much more dangerous could this be? "I will do it. When will it be done?" "We cannot say for certain. For now, stay inconspicuous."
Lledra moved away from the old man, walking towards his friend Athdara. As he approached, his friend looked at him curiously. "Did you accept?" he questioned. "Accept what?" came the reply from Lledra. Athdara laughed quietly. "Your talk with Iulmhionna was not so secret as you think. Many in the Resistance know." Lledra decided he could trust his friend. "I did." "Do you know what happened when the minotaur died?" The burly adolescent asked. "No." Lledra said slowly. "Iulmhionna mentioned something about some sort of force, but he told me nothing…other than that someday I might be able to control it." "I think the Storyteller knows exactly what it is, but does not wish to tell you." Lledra smiled. "And you what do you think it is, my friend?" "I think it is magic." Athdara replied seriously. Lledra's smile widened. "What then, is magic? Is it a dweomer encased in an object, unthinking and subject to the will of its master? Or is it a sentient entity that bows to no master? Is it an inward force that comes from the wielder? None, or perhaps all?" "Well, I think you'll be finding out soon enough, if we can pull the escape off," his practical friend replied.
Lledra chuckled and continued to work, filled with a new hope for life.
********
The days continued, with Lledra feeling a new strength coursing within him born of hope, and waiting for the day of freedom. He grew more entwined with the Resistance, learning of their plans and capabilities. One day he was astonished to learn that to date, the Resistance in Caer Eachan had hoarded away enough weapons to arm most of the inhabitants of the city, smuggling much of them away to other cities, hidden with the few merchants the demons allowed, retaining enough to arm their group and a small cache for new arrivals. All this, and more stolen-Iulmhionna and others preferred the term "apprehended"-goods were hidden in ingenious places: hollowed-out tree stumps, in holes dug beneath cottages, in the walls of the cottages themselves, and many other places Lledra would never thought to have looked. Eventually, the message came:
It would be done that night
Lledra had rehearsed his part mentally perhaps thousands of times. After coming home, he had taken out his allotted weapons: a sword and a long knife, and folded them neatly under his cloak.
His sister came in. Arieth was no fool, and she had quickly figured out exactly what her brother was up to. "Is it tonight?" She asked, her voice wavering for an instant. Lledra hesitated a moment, then nodded. He couldn't have fooled his sister anyway. "And…are you going to tell them?" Arieth further questioned. "Yes. I must resolve this before I leave." Lledra answered. A worried look flashed across Arieth's fair face. "Father is not going to like this at all, you know." "Yes, I know," answered Lledra heavily, "but I have to give him a chance. And-a chance to escape." A joyful expression came to the face of his sister, and Lledra hurried on. "I believe that there will be enough confusion for you and our family to leave the city. After I leave, go to the stable and leave on horseback. Go east--straight east until you meet someone who can help." Then the rest of his family came in through the doorway: His father, mother, his younger brother Leith, and his youngest sister Kyna.
They prepared dinner, a thin soup of potatoes and turnips, with a few carrots and, amazingly, a small amount of beef. Lledra took a deep breath and said, "Mother, Father, I have something to tell you." His parents exchanged looks. "I have joined the Resistance." His father rose. "Son," he growled, but his wife calmed him quickly. Lledra continued, trying to get it over with. "We are escaping, bound for the Dragon's Back…tonight." "Son," Lledra's father repeated, "this is madness. You cannot hope to escape. Why won't you just stay here?" Lledra felt his temper rising. "No!" he said, "How can I stay here with the knowledge that I am perpetuating Aingeastach's rule? How can I stay, knowing that I could do something about it?"
His father sat back down. "Very well," he said, "you must choose your course." "That is not all, father," Lledra continued, "I wish for you to escape too. I have already told Arieth how to do it. And- father," he said, his voice cracking slightly, "I wish to leave with your blessing."
His father's face reflected the tremendous conflict in his heart. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded his head. "Go now, with my blessing." Lledra walked around the table, hugging each member of his family. When he got to his father, he whispered in his ear, "I shall return here." His father, Bealantin, smiled and nodded. Lledra stepped over to the door, opening it a crack. It was pitch black, the perfect conditions for an escape. The clouds revealed there would be rain soon, covering their telltale tracks from pursuers. He slipped through and closed the door, then made his way on silent feet to the assigned rendezvous at the wall
As he approached he heard loud voices. Suddenly torches flared, revealing the situation.
The demons knew!
Lledra could see them fighting. They would quickly lose, and then the demons would conduct house searches. He spun about, almost running into his friend Athdara. "Run!" He whispered harshly, his eyes wild with terror. "No," Lledra quickly said, "I have a better idea." He guided his stocky friend over to the stables hurriedly, saying, "We can escape on horseback! Go a few hundred feet down from the battle, and I will be there soon." There were five horses left. He swung the reins of one over to Athdara, who quickly mounted and trotted in the direction of their meeting place. Lledra mounted another, and taking the reins of the others, galloped over to his family's cottage, only hesitating to pick up an axe, and, hiding the horses behind the building, pounded on the door. "It is Lledra!" He whispered as loudly as he dared. The door opened quickly, and a hand seized him and pulled him in.
"Lledra! What are you doing here?" His father asked. "The demons found out! Come quickly, through the back!" Lledra gasped hoarsely, even as he moved to chop down the back wall. "Arieth, mount behind me, Leith, you mount with Kyna, and Alanna," he said, looking at his beautiful mother, "you and father must take a horse apiece." A massive knock came at the door, startling them all. "House inspections!" came the demon's voice. Bealantin moved quickly to the door, shoving the bar across the door, then wedging in his massive frame to block the door's path. "Hurry!" he gritted out. His voice broke the spell. Lledra lifted little Kyna onto the horse, even as Leith mounted from the other side. "Go!" he shouted, slapping the horse's rump. He turned to find that Arieth had already mounted the horse. He continued his turn to regard his mother. Another bang came from the door. "Open up!" the voice growled. "Or we will bring down this pitiful house around you!" Alanna turned up her tearstained face. "I won't leave him," she said plaintively. Lledra pulled her to her feet. "You must!" he said harshly. Leading her over to her horse, he helped her mount her horse and send her off. "Come, father!" he shouted, trying to bring him away from his post at the door. "No," his father answered, "I will stay here for a while longer." "Please come now!" Arieth cried brokenly. "No!" his father shouted, "Leave this place!" Lledra mounted, then spurring his horse around, he shouted one last sentence back to his father. "I will come back," he half shouted, half cried, "I will come back!"
********
Inside the house, Bealantin felt that the door would not last much longer. This next strike would shred the door, whether he held it together or not. He was up and running towards his horse even as the final stroke fell, as the door shattered into a thousand pieces and the demons moved to stop him.
********
Lledra heard the noise coming from his cottage, but resolved to not turn back. Arieth was still sobbing behind him. When he reached the appointed place, he found that all were there: Athdara, his mother, and Leith with Kyna. His father was still no where to be seen. He cantered up to the wall, placing both hands upon it and focusing, focusing and isolating the rage he felt towards Aingeastach, the pain and terror he had seen in the past months culminating with the tragedy of his father. He turned his thoughts to his love for that man, his love for his entire family, from his mother all the way down to Kyna, and added that to his mental arsenal, then focused all his thoughts and emotions down through his hands and into the wall.
Boom! The blast shook the earth and sent the horses stumbling. When the dust cleared, he saw that there was a fifty foot gap in the wall, the pieces having flown over two hundred feet outward. Athdara whistled softly. "My friend," he said softly, "I did not know you could do that.
Lledra saw that the demons from the previous scuffle had been alerted to the commotion and were coming swiftly. "Ride!" He ordered, "Ride East until you cannot anymore! No matter what happens!" Spurring his horse, he and his sister rode from Caer Eachan. Hearing the demons in pursuit, he yelled as loudly as he could, "Continue South!" Hoping they would not, he turned southward to deceive the demons. He rode on and on, never looking back, always onward, through the driving rain.