Dawnbringer Read online

  “There is incredible power here—a flow of negative energy permeates this entire area, likely a warding or some type of guardian perhaps. Beware, for there is great danger here.”

  “Like there’s not been great danger the entire trip,” Waresh grumbled, but he glanced warily about, his knuckles white on the haft of his axe.

  “Does this… beast… lie in wait?” Nera asked quietly, as if afraid giving it a name would cause it to appear. “Unless it’s invisible, I don’t see where it could be hiding.”

  None of the others had any answer. They simply stood there silently, shifting nervously. She assumed they felt the same sense of palpable dread as she herself did. She could see no caves or places where anything could be hiding. There was simply the depression and the portal within.

  We are spooking ourselves with all this talk of that turmahr. There is nothing here—mayhap it is gone. Sent through the portal with the legions, I reckon.

  Her friends were looking to her once again to lead them. Suddenly, she was impatient to get back to Oblith and then Nexus.

  Time we conclude this fool’s quest. I’m the only one who can open the portal, so I should be the one to venture down and set off the warding or flush out whatever lies in wait—if anything.

  “I will go down there first to take a look. Spread out and keep watch here that nothing takes us unawares.” She gripped Lightslicer’s comforting hilt and took a deep breath.

  Cautiously, she made her way down the steep side of the ridge, alert for any movement, sound, or sensation that would indicate the presence of expended magic and danger. The ground was dusty and cracked beneath her feet, rippled yet hard. Loose dirt and pebbles sloughed off beneath her feet as she half crept, half slid down.

  Then, she was at the bottom, having made it without incident. The depression from edge to edge was perhaps a hundred paces across at most. The ancient archway loomed over her, even larger than her first impression had indicated. Studying it, she would’ve gotten the impression it was fashioned by some hand greater than any mortal’s, even had she not known the truth. The elaborate runes were carved all the way along the curved length of the portal.

  Yet it was not whole. Deactivated by the gods millennia ago, it sat idle, for none knew the commands Marakesh had used to disable it.

  Until Nera’s latest vision had shown her.

  A quick glance back up the rise revealed her friends’ anxious faces. They alternately watched her and their surroundings, hands on hilts, expecting the dreaded guardian to appear at any time.

  Nera studied the portal, mentally rehearsing what she needed to do. The ability unlocked by her father allowed her to make the necessary adjustments. She replayed the God of Industry’s commands as he had manipulated the portal’s substance long ago.

  Taking a deep breath, she strode forward to the left side of the arch and struck it with her iron fist. The arch resonated, a deep ringing sound which continued, rather than fading out. She struck the right side in turn, and the deep reverberation intensified.

  The humming resonated like a terrible gong, the sound waves seeming to penetrate her body and make her bones shudder. So loud and powerful it was, that she imagined it reverberating throughout the entire Abyss, drawing out every fiend to come and investigate.

  Slowly, the blocks began to rearrange themselves, pulling apart and sliding down into their new positions. The pieces clanged into position with a deep knell, different from before, and she knew the runes were now positioned correctly.

  “Uth suahu su zazus—” As the first syllables of the incantation slithered off her tongue, she faltered, suddenly sensing a terrible presence gain awareness of them.

  The ground rumbled and shook. Her companions tumbled as much as ran down the steep sides of the ridge as the ground shook and moved. Dirt and rock dislodged and cascaded down the ridge, revealing more of the rippled ground beneath.

  Earthquake?

  Her jaw went slack when she was able to comprehend that the moving ground was resolving itself into some huge beast beneath the ridge—no, it was the ridge. The beast had lain partially buried beneath centuries’ worth of dirt and stone buildup in deep torpor, curled up snout to tail around the portal depression. And it was waking for the first time in centuries.

  The cracked, rippled ground turned out to be great reddish-brown scales. Its burning red eyes were as tall as Nera, with slitted pupils. A purplish mist curled from its maw as its awful breath blasted forth like an unholy bellows. An aura of fear swept over them, almost as powerful as a physical wave, paralyzing them in their tracks, so awed and horrified were they by the awful sight of the beast before them.

  “The turmahr!” Yosrick cried, his voice sounding thin and barely audible over the rumbling ground and clattering of falling stone. “We cannot battle this!” The small gnome looked like a flea beside the rising beast.

  “Open the portal, Nera!” Wyat bellowed, voice ragged with fear, sword clenched in a death grip. The companions had fallen back to the rim of the depression and were spread out, facing the beast. They slowly backed away toward the portal, knowing they could not stand before such a foe yet determined to try to give her the precious moments needed.

  Snapping out of her shock, Nera turned back to the portal. She gritted her teeth and struggled to remember the incantation through the fog of fear gripping her. Raising her voice, she began to shout the words again. In response, slowly, beginning at the base of the portal, the runes glowed a fiery red in sequence with each completed phrase.

  Hellfire eyes glared balefully down upon the party from a height equal to or higher than the walls surrounding Nexus. A maw the size of a house opened wide, revealing teeth the length of polearms. A rushing wind like a hurricane signaled its indrawn breath.

  They were trapped within its curled-up bulk. The ground rumbled and heaved beneath their feet as its tail slid farther away, and it uncurled its body to get at them. Even Arron in his dragon form would’ve been no match for such a beast.

  “Mighty Sol, protect your servants in our darkest hour!” Idrimel chanted, but to Nera’s ears her words seemed faint and lacking conviction in the face of the awful turmahr.

  Arron, Wyat, Waresh, and Yosrick all desperately hacked at the creature’s massive feet with little effect. Rand stood rooted to the ground, paralyzed with fear. Malek unleashed a large fireball, which exploded against the turmahr’s flank, but the creature ignored it.

  The wind of its indrawn breath stopped for a moment, and the stillness was complete, save for the grunts and sounds of steel ineffectually striking the turmahr’s scales.

  Then the monster breathed. A purplish stinking cloud filled the entire depression. It descended on the party, burning away skin with a cold as intense as the chill of the void between planes. So cold was it that Nera felt as if she were being burned with fire or acid. The raw negative energy washed over them all, sparing none.

  Nera’s body seized up, and she collapsed to the ground, instantly weakened as if all her vitality had been snuffed out. She watched in horror as her skin shriveled and her flesh seemed to evaporate around her. In mere seconds, she was rendered as weak as a newborn calf and knew the end was near.

  Nearby, Endira and Idrimel had fallen as well, weakly twitching in agony as their lives were extinguished. The mist blocked her vision, but she could hear the weak cries of agony from the fighters who had been bravely trying to wound the beast.

  They were all moments from death.

  Save for Malek. The mage stood in a protective sphere, the ghastly purple cloud roiling around him harmlessly even as it claimed the lives of her companions.

  Nera tried to cry out to him with her dying breath, but she had none to spare as her lungs shriveled.

  Their quest had ended in failure, dooming them and the entire multiverse.

  Her vision darkened as her eyes melted away.

  ***

  Malek watched the horrifying effects of the turmahr’s breath attack decimate his friends
. He was barely able to keep it at bay with his own power, although his protective sphere was flagging simply from the touch of the beast’s raw negative energy, or death magic, as the tome had named it. The containment gem’s inner fire dimmed and winked out as the last of its power was expended simply maintaining his protective sphere.

  “No, damn it! Sabyl, why do you send your Chosen here, only to have it end like this?” he cried out.

  His shield flickered and faded. Realizing he was moments from dying with his friends, he desperately tried to turn the beast’s breath back on itself. First a trickle, then a torrent swept into him as he drew on the tremendous power. With a cry of anguish, he staggered and fell to one knee. Inside him, the power roiled his guts, and he knew he was poisoning himself beyond repair.

  He unleashed a blast of the negative energy back at the turmahr, forming a great spear which he drove into its breast, hoping to wound it and send it away.

  The power disintegrated harmlessly when it struck the creature. Its head tilted downward, observing his struggles, eyes glowing balefully.

  But he had to do something—his friends soon would lie dead, if they didn’t already. He lost his grip on the power as it overcame him, slowly tearing him apart, and he vomited black bile onto the ground, convulsing in a momentary seizure.

  A glance back at Nera steeled his resolve. What little he could see of her through the purple haze was a shriveled husk that bore little resemblance to the thief. Nera! I can’t lose you!

  “The power of preservation is the ultimate stage of your abilities, my son. It will prove your undoing, but it is too late for that already. Use the last fragment of your power, and you may yet save those you love!”

  The voice filled his mind, calm yet sad. He recognized the voice instantly even though it bore little resemblance to the thin, whispering rasp of the zombie he had known.

  “Father?” he asked hopefully, his own voice a mere croak. I will be reunited with you soon.

  The words of his true father, Alistor Denore, resounded in his mind, igniting a glimmer of hope. Or perhaps his mind was simply dying, and he was hearing his own hopes and wishes at the last.

  As the negative energy threatened to wash him away to oblivion, he understood his father’s words. “The power of preservation.” He had one last use for his magic—he could catalyze the negative energy into vitality, but doing so would destroy him in the process.

  Nera’s beautiful face had been reduced to a skull wrapped in leathery skin. Her fingers were barely more than bony claws. The woman he had come to love would die, and the quest would fail. His other friends were just as badly off, gasping like beached fish all around him.

  “Sabyl, I understand my purpose now—I was Chosen to ensure Nera’s life is preserved, that she may fulfill her own destiny. Grant me the strength to carry through.” He turned his gaze upon the mountainous beast. Whether Sabyl answered his plea or he merely found the strength within himself, he knew not, but he faced down the turmahr.

  The beast’s eyes glared down at him, and he could sense the ancient creature’s surprise and confusion that he hadn’t yet been overcome.

  “That’s right, you haven’t won yet,” he gasped. Fighting with every fiber of his being, he began the agonizing process of catalyzing the negative energy.

  Malek collapsed as his own vitality was stripped away piece by piece, forming the catalyst. As he sacrificed his own vitality, an aura of healing energy formed around him. He gritted his teeth and forced his resolve to stay focused, painfully aware of being torn apart from the reaction.

  The aura around him strengthened, spreading outward much as the cloud of the creature’s breath had moments before. His aura of preservation passed over Arron, who lay the closest, then Idrimel, Endira, and the others. Nera, who had fallen farthest away at the base of the portal, was the last to receive it.

  The turmahr roared in dismay as the aura of preserving energy buffeted against it. The ground shuddered as the beast recoiled, unable to bear the touch. It breathed again, but its roiling breath was kept at bay, unable to penetrate the pocket of healing magic.

  Malek kept his fading vision focused on Nera, watching with relief as she breathed more easily, her flesh filling back out and her skin smoothing. The green aura of preserving magic restored each of his friends back to full health.

  “Open the portal, Nera. You must leave now. Become who you were born to be.” Having lost the power of speech, he desperately sent the words mentally, hoping she would hear them.

  Nera did. Her eyes widened as she saw his condition. “Malek, no!” she screamed, taking a couple steps toward him, eyes darting nervously to the turmahr and back.

  “It is the only way. You must leave now—take the others and fulfill your destiny. Know that you’ll always have my love.”

  “No! I won’t leave you.” She started toward him. The others were looking on in shocked awe.

  “Nera, you must open it! Each of us has our role.” Endira grasped her arm gently. “Malek has chosen to fulfill his that we might survive.”

  Nera shrugged her off angrily, but then Arron was beside her, grasping her other arm. “Nera, open the portal! We will do what we can for Malek after!”

  Her brother’s urgency penetrated her horror and grief. Nera turned back to the portal, tears filling her eyes. The incantation rolled off her tongue, but by that point Malek was beyond hearing.

  As his sight faded, the last he saw was the portal flaring to life, thrumming with power. He couldn’t feel the hands grasping him and lifting him away.

  The turmahr moved toward them but reeled away as its massive foot struck the aura of preserving energy, which was somehow painful to it. Gathering itself for a lunge, it pressed forward, furious at being thwarted, this time managing to pierce the weakening aura.

  But the monster was too late. Even as the aura dissipated and Malek gave the last motes of his life, the companions were through the portal. His second sight, the only sense left to him, faded, but the last he saw was the lushness of Oblith’s pure earth magic. Then, Nera’s astounding bright-blue vitality shone over him like the light of a beautiful star.

  In his mind, he smiled and with his final thought tried to send her his reassuring love.

  And then, Malek Denore, son of Alistor, was no more.

  Chapter 26

  Nera was inconsolable.

  She slammed shut the portal outside the Steel Rage’s camp on Oblith and was immediately at Malek’s side. Wyat and Waresh gently set his remains down in the grass. The big man had to wrap Malek in his cloak, for fear his corpse would crumble to dust.

  Nothing remained of him but frail, parchment-thin scraps of skin covering decayed bones. She touched his hand gently, and the skin flaked off, leaving only bone remaining. Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks.

  “Damn it, no!” Nera wailed. She pounded the ground beside Malek’s corpse. “Why let us come this far and then fail?” she cried into the blue afternoon sky.

  With forlorn expressions, her friends bowed their heads in silent grief.

  Nera was unaware of the passage of time, eventually realizing her eyes had gone dry and her vision blurry from crying out all her tears. Sunset filled the sky, pinks and purples gaily painted overhead, in stark contrast to her bitter mood.

  A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder, and Arron knelt down beside her. “We think it fitting to build him a pyre if you’re in agreement.”

  Nera just stared into the twilight, seeing nothing.

  “He was a good man and made the bravest choice. It’s a damned miracle we’re still alive—and all because of him. Perhaps that was the task he was Chosen for—that we might live to carry on.”

  “Aye, he was among the best of men—noble, selfless.” Nera’s voice came out a croak. She shifted her position, uncomfortable from what must’ve been hours kneeling beside Malek’s remains. “What of the others?”

  “Exhausted. Saddened and shocked to be alive. But we’re all behind yo
u—take however much time you need.”

  Nera sniffed and took a deep, shuddering breath. “Aye, I think I’m ready to say farewell.”

  “I’ll tell the others.” Arron squeezed her shoulder once more and was gone.

  All Nera could think about was wondering why Sabyl had brought her and Malek together only for them to be parted so painfully in the end.

  ***

  Idrimel was nearly as crushed as Nera, as much from helplessness as from sorrow. She knew the power to restore Malek was beyond her. Only a few within her order held such tremendous power as to restore the dead to life, and he was clearly beyond that. She’d seen centuries-old remains in better condition.

  But Malek had understood his role and fulfilled it admirably—they had made a pact to see Nera through no matter the consequences, whether the price even be their own lives. Soon, they would return to Nexus in order to attempt to save it and restore order to the multiverse, and he had put them in a position where they might succeed.

  Aware that the others were preparing a pyre for Malek, she found a quiet spot just past the edge of the mercenary camp where she could pray. The sunset shone on the tents and fields with pink and purple light, which brightened her mood a bit.

  Although the quest had been costly—and some would say ultimately fruitless—she was optimistic that events would eventually work out for the better. She had faced the greatest test of her faith and emerged from the darkness stronger, like tempered steel.

  She folded her hands in prayer. “Glorious Sol, I thank you for shining your protective light over our dark path and safeguarding my companions and this humble servant. Please grant me the strength and wisdom to stand against the dark forces in the trials ahead…”

  ***

  “Ready to build the pyre?” Wyat asked Arron somberly. Despite the relief that half of the group had improbably survived the journey, the camp was somber due to the loss of so many friends and comrades.