The Chaos Blade

*****

Kelnozz appeared on the small grassy hill surrounded by a garden that was carefully tended. Yet, in spite of the skill of the gardener, it lacked it's former luster. Gone was the vitality and the shine that it had under Farathallion's care, so many years past.

In apparent sync with Kelnozz's mood, the skies were overcast and dreary. A warm rain fell, watering the garden and the surrounding lands and raising the overall humidity of the tropical island. Island was a misnomer, really, for Innowendyn was many leagues across, large enough to be a continent by itself.

Long ago, banished from Viconia by the light elves and evil dragons, what remained of the glory of the once unified elven peoples had begun a great exodus. They had followed a chain of islands largely unvisited by other Belurians. Even now, 5000 years later, it was primarily elven merchant ships that crossed the seas to Belurian, the islands of the Chachopeyan Empire, or the great dwarven kingdom spread amongst 3 islands. On those many islands native peoples already lived, from a fiercely proud dwarven kingdom to tribes and cities of more savage humans. A small grouping of islands even supported a tribe of Halflings that shared nothing save their height and barely their body style from their Belurian cousins; they were primitive cannibals.

On the elves sailed, heading to the south and the east where no hope of discovering land lay. Eventually they came upon the tropical Innowendyn, a land hundreds of leagues across in any direction. It was filled with a savage beauty, populated only by animals and beings of nature, so they thought.

The elves had built their new capitol, Loralost, in the middle of the island amongst a tropical paradise. They built the city seeking to reclaim much of their lost art and glory, delving deep into the earth for marble and precious metals in a manner that would have made a dwarf proud. In the end they had delved too deeply from a rift in the earth caused by they knew not what. They opened a rift of a different sort, uncovering a portal made of a strange metal. A machine forgotten by time itself. With its unearthing, it awoke from its ageless slumber, bridging the distance between Viconia and a deeper, darker place. The miners had slain quickly as the demons within boiled forth.

It was too soon for the dark elves to engage in another war. Their might was still depleted from the Kinslayer War and was centuries away from recovering. But fight they must, for extinction was their only option.

Kelnozz remembered the time darkly. It had been his first test. The heir of Myragordamar, champion of the elves, the Queen had looked to him to lead them. And so he had. From Luingirth's back they had warred against the demons who's numbers seemed to have no end. Many more elves had fallen, slain by the nightmare host.

In the end Kelnozz and Luingirth had been separated. It was known that at all times they were together wreaking havoc on the demonic army whenever they appeared. Thus it was that Luingirth alone flew through the skies, much younger and less powerful then, but still a great threat. The demons focused on him, sending their flyers at him and using what magics they had. Kelnozz slipped through their ranks as quickly and stealthily as he could, coming upon the Demon King, Helanduril.

It had been a mighty battle, Kelnozz's first true test of strength and skill at arms. In the end he had won, drawing a hateful surrender from Helanduril and banishing the demonic host back through the portal whence it came. The strange machine had then been destroyed, forever sundering the bridge between worlds, or so Kelnozz had thought. That Helanduril had been leading the assault on Sanctuary spoke of another rift, another connection between worlds. And worse, an alliance with Darakor.

Kelnozz scowled and set off, heading from the Risingmoon estates towards the palace. He had no time nor interest in the Elven Council. They, as always, would talk about things and take too long to respond. He needed direct action. He needed to see the queen.

Kelnozz entered the palace directly, none daring to step him from the fell look upon his face. All who served knew him and knew of him, though none knew him well. If such a thing was possible, to approach and confront the queen directly and without her permission, it was Kelnozz who could do it.

Unfortunately for Kelnozz, the Queen was in neither her chambers nor her thrown room. Cornering a guard he demanded her location, which the guard readily surrendered to him for fear of his wrath. It was ironic, and it served only to fuel his anger and irritation. The queen was meeting with her councilors.

Kelnozz burst into the council room, startling all of them. They looked at him, clearly surprised at not only his sudden entrance, but also by his appearance. His hair was unkempt and he was very dirty. Hardly fitting for an audience with their august body.

"My wayward nephew returns," Queen Galinia said with a tight smile. She was the first to react to his intrusion. That she disapproved was clear in her tone and her manner, but she knew she could not openly deny him his right.

"Ancaruin is risen," Kelnozz stated, glaring about the council as if daring any of them to refute him. "And Narellin Kinslayer is no longer."

Immediately a susurration of voices began as they began to talk to each other and themselves. Kelnozz knew how to make an entrance. The Queen finally gained their silence by raising her hand from where she sat at the middle of the crescent shaped table. In her eyes shone the glimmer of tears.

"You slew him?" she asked, nearly whispering. Whatever faults the queen might have, as all royalty did, loyalty had not been one of them. With her husband the King dead some five thousand years she refused to court anyone again, for her love had been fully given to him and what remained had gone to their son, Marthollin. Marthollin was now also slain, killed by Tiamat in the battle that allowed the metallic dragons to return to Viconia.

"The man who took your King from you is gone," Kelnozz said again. "But it was not by my hand that this happened."

"Then who? And how do you know?" she asked again, the tears of the remembered pain threatening to spill down her face.

Kelnozz closed his eyes for a moment and clenched his fists angrily. His ebony skinned knuckles shown white before he opened them and stared at her fiercely. "My son killed him."

Another burst of hushed whispers went around the table at the proclamation. Some wild haired sooth-sayer that was said to be touched by the Gods had long ago prophesied that Kelnozz would be slain by none other then his own son. None knew whether to believe it or not, but it certainly made for some interesting rumors.

The Queen's own hand flew to her now open mouth. "You have a son? Who is he? When did this happen?"

"His name is Darakor," Kelnozz said tightly. "He was born shortly after Ancaruin fell and was raised by Narellin himself as his own. He has abandoned the name of Kinslayer and adopted my own name."

"Why do you speak so harshly, nephew? You have a family and a heir at long last! Rejoice in it!" The Queen said, letting her tears fall. She was saddened but also happy. Her husband's lineage was over, but the family he came from would continue.

"I will not rest until he is dead by my hand!"

The Queen and the council grew deathly quiet at his vehement oath. He stared angrily at each of them in turn. The Queen alone dared speak to him. "Put aside your wrathful mien, Kelnozz, you are among friends. Tell us of this Darakor, what could any son do to bring about such hatred in a father?"

"Treachery, oh Queen. Treachery not seen since the days when my father's and my father's brother's blood was spilt. Ancaruin is again on this world because of Darakor. He took Cirithallion from me when I had it in my grasp and betrayed me in doing so. Then he arranged for Helanduril's host to destroy Sanctuary, finding the missing piece of Ancaruin's spirit."

Kelnozz spat the words out one at a time as though he could cause pain with them to counter the pain he felt. The council and queen reacted as he expected they would at the mention of Helanduril. Some of them were old enough to remember the war between the elves and the demons. Others had only heard stories but knew the elven history well.

"The Demon King is slain by my hand, but his host remains at Darakor's bidding," Kelnozz finished.

"What can we do to help?" Tandethill, the eldest sage on the council, asked earnestly. He had learned a valuable lesson five hundred years past. They all had, but him most importantly. No longer residents of Belurian, the elves had felt they were separate from the troubles there. Kelnozz had reminded them that what fate befell Viconia befall all of them, and Tandethill in particular had taken the lesson to heart.

"Send out the call to arms, War comes again to Viconia," Kelnozz said. "We must sail for Belurian and give battle again.

"Our strength is lessened from the last siege you brought us to, Kelnozz," the Queen said. "The dragons may not aid us this time either, for the debt is paid in full with them."

"They will help or they will perish under the reign of fire Ancaruin will establish. Gather everything that you can, for this time to stand aside and let others do the fighting is a greater risk then death itself," Kelnozz said.

Everyone sat quietly, staring at Kelnozz and thinking to themselves. The Queen looked about and realized that everyone was trying to gauge the impact his decree would have upon them. She stood up, drawing their attention. "Do as he bids, all of you. Kelnozz is more then the heir of Myragordamar Risingmoon and champion of the elves."

Queen Galinia paused and looked at everyone for effect, making eye contact to ensure she had their full attention. "He is also the heir to the throne and his words shall be obeyed as if they were my own!"

Kelnozz looked at her, eyes wide. His fists clenched again and his jaw twitched. How dare she saddle him with the added responsibility. He had no desire for it!

"I will be in my chambers readying myself to go to war," Galinia said, daring anyone to naysay her. She turned and with a flutter of her robes and cape, swiftly walked out of the room.

In a tightly controlled voice that was white hot with fury Kelnozz spoke. "Ready everything and everyone. Children and those who can best care for them are the only ones to be left behind. 1 in 20 capable men and women, chosen randomly, will remain for their protection. We leave for Belurian in 6 days!"

Kelnozz spun on his heel and stalked out of the chamber, leaving the stunned occupants behind. It was expected that Kelnozz would assume the mantle of leadership once Galinia abdicated, now that Marthollin was gone. But for her to name him as regent and acting King while she remained had surprised them all. Galinia had always shown a spark for the politic. She had always regaled in the intrigues of court. Now it appeared that she was done with it all. King Theonac had been taken from her, then her son. Now that their murderers had been laid to rest, she seemed at last ready to retire herself.

The councilors broke up quickly, heading to their own estates to ready them and to send out word to the dark elven peoples of Innowendyn. Fey times loomed on the horizon for the elven nations, whether they could claim victory or not.

Chapter 27

Yamara floated in a warm sea of liquid blackness, yet she was not wet. She rushed along an unfelt current, moving faster with each throbbing pulse. She felt a presence nearby, light a beacon of light, guiding her through the inky darkness towards a troubled area ahead. It was the equivalent of a whirlpool, siphoning off the sea of life in which she swam.

Eric, nearly spent, fought as ever he did against the enclosing darkness. He refused to give in to it; refused to sleep. At first he did not feel the warmth spreading from where their hands were joined. He did not even feel their hands grasping his tightly anymore, so far removed was he. Then the first spark of new life found it's way into him, spreading up his arm rapidly. He gasped, having been so intent on fighting off the darkness that he had forgotten to breathe. He knew then that it was going to be all right. He closed his eyes, unfelt tears of relief sliding down his cheeks. His mind, like Yamara's, was suddenly sucked downward into the pitch black abyss.

They were together and apart then, floating above the maelstrom of their joined essence. Each was aware of the other, yet both were confused and lost. Yamara faltered and was caught up in it, circling slowly at first about the edge, progressing deeper with each passing heartbeat and unable to break free. Eric watched her for only a second before he dove towards her, moving through it so naturally he seemed unaffected by it.

He caught her hand and arrested her descent, clinging to her fiercely. Yamara returned his grip, looking back at him thankfully yet somewhat warily. She had no idea where they were or what was happening, only that a few moments before he was on the verge of death and she had offered to help him.

Was that then what this was? The swirling vortex led them to the underworld? Death's embrace, warm rushing waters ferrying them to eternal darkness? She clung more fiercely to Eric's hand and fought against the current. Eric fought with her, striving against the insurmountable force that had them caught up.

In a few short moments it became apparent that there was no escape from it. They were caught up in it and would ride it through to its bitter end. Yamara continued to struggle against it, but both knew they would fail.

Eric would fight death to the end, but he was not afraid of it. He was not certain how much he enjoyed the thought of spending an eternity with Yamara, though only a few short weeks before he had been pondering a very similar question, just under much more pleasant circumstances.

"It's no use," Eric called out to her, his voice carrying through the soundless void they were in. "We cannot escape."

Yamara stopped fighting and looked at him. Fury raged in her eyes. She possessed an indomitable spirit, Eric could tell that now more then ever. She would never be vanquished, never be defeated. Death, when it came for her, would be on her terms. She would accept no less. He admired her and was terrified by her.

"Last chance for absolution," Eric joked, determined to honor her spirit and go out with a smile and a joke. She just looked at him and shook her head.

"Why are you here?" He asked, knowing they grew closer to the funnel that would suck them into the underworld. "Why did you come for me?"

"A favor for a friend," Yamara said, clasping his hand tightly.

"Then consider me a friend and do me a favor as well," Eric said to her, his hand only held within hers because she refused to let go. "Tell me the truth, was there anything between us in those first few days?"

Yamara smiled sadly. She would give him the truth, though it was not what he wanted to here. "I have come to respect you far more since then, Eric. At that time you were a mark. An obstacle I needed to overcome. I enjoyed myself but would have killed you just as readily had I needed to."

Eric nodded. "Thank you, Yamara, for being honest. One last thing, tell Bill he's the best brother a soldier could have."

"Now let me go, it's not your time to go where I'm going. I'm dying, Yamara. Shit happens and you can't stop it."

Yamara eye's widened as he grinned and closed his eyes. Yamara clenched her teeth and let go. Almost immediately Eric plummeted into the vortex. She watched him go, no longer feeling herself weighed down so heavily, and thought she saw him open his hand and give her a thumbs up before he disappeared from view. She stared a moment longer then used her mind to swim up away from the maelstrom towards consciousness far above.

*****

"What did you do to them?" Elvanshalee asked. Alesha slumped back away from the pale forms of Yamara and Eric. They lay unmoving on the ground, dead to the world.

Alesha groaned softly and shook her head to clear it. "Nothing, I have no power," she admitted at last. "I tried to take the gift Yamara was offering and heal Eric with it."

"Then what is happening?" Elvanshalee repeated.

"I don't know.," Alesha said, watching the two of them. At first she thought them both dead, their pallor was waxen and wan and they lay unnaturally still. Then she saw the faint raising an falling of Yamara's chest. "Yamara hinted to me once that she had some special ability with her mind once, she must be doing this of her own will."

"She can heal him?"

Alesha shrugged. "I don't know, he is beyond me."

"And what of you and the demon?" Elvanshalee asked.

"He is destroyed forever, his essence torn to the winds and scattered. With him gone I am free to do as I wish."

"What do you wish to do?"

Both women, human and elvish alike, turned to regard the haggard sounding voice. Bill stood unsteadily, using a now dead and desiccated tree for support.

Alesha looked at him, her eyes regarding him kindly. She took a stress reducing deep breath and glanced around the small grove of trees that she had destroyed. She pondered the question as she surveyed her handiwork. Again more innocent life lost because of her, mere vegetation perhaps, but life nonetheless.

"I will avenge Kelnozz by going after Ancaruin, it is as he would have done."

Bill nodded and carefully staggered over to where Eric lay on the ground. He slumped down beside him, using the only living tree in the area as a backrest. Elvanshalee regarded him coolly. She felt that his behavior was very out of the norm for his short lived and selfish race. Of course every species had their extremes, but she seemed to be in the presence of some of the best of the human race. Still no match for a decent elf, of course, but respectable in their own way.

Yamara gasped loudly and sat straight up. Elvanshalee, who was closest to her, reached out and grabbed her instinctively to keep her from falling back to the ground. She took a few shuddering breaths and gained her balance. She was cold to the touch.

"What happened?" Alesha asked, staring at her intently.

"Didn't you do it?" Yamara asked after she looked around for a few seconds to regain her bearings.

"Do what? I did nothing, my strength is gone," Alesha said tiredly. Indeed, she had never felt so drained and exhausted in her life. "You did that on your own."

Yamara blinked a few times, comprehension slowly coming to her. She reached out with her mind, experimenting. It caused a sharp pain to spear through her mind. She grunted and shook her head to clear it. When it went away she opened her eyes and stared at Bill.

"He wanted you to know that you are the best brother a soldier could have," she said quietly.

Bill nodded and shut his eyes before hanging his head respectfully. He sniffed loudly then forced himself to his feet. He looked around then found a relatively flat rock. Ignoring his own weariness, he dropped to his knees and used the sharpest edge on the rock to start digging into the loose soil.

All of the women turned at the sound of more people arriving. From the camp of refugees a small group of relatively able-bodied men and women bearing weapons advanced, investigating the strange sound of the pistol shot and the echoing effects of the pyrotechnics.

"What happened here?" The leader of the ragtag group said. She was one of the former Lords of Sanctuary, a retired pirate captain named Igrid. In spite of being in her 60s she looked strong and fit and carried herself well. No missing limbs or digits either, which seemed rare for a former pirate.