The Blood Fields, Dark Heritage Saga V

By Michael Bertolini

War. Famine. Slavery.
They must never return.

After decades of preparation, the evil sorcerer Enlokirim wants to rule the world of Scyllia and burn the heavens. But his desires are impossible when he's attacked from all sides. Allies and enemies turn against him as his dreams of domination are crushed.

Amras Oronar, Alliana Urunar, Page Tarnis, and Isla Solwen move to strike Enlokirim; they have the Archaeon and intend to stop Enlokirim before he can complete his evil desires.
Akaiden Del'Saer and Fingon Darkleaf, the two children of Enlokirim, have turned against their father and plot revenge. With their combined power, they feel unstoppable.
Zara Wolf leads an army of humans and elves against Enlokirim. Another war cannot be allowed to devastate the western lands again. With a shaky alliance fueled by mutual hatred, they must stay together long enough to achieve victory.

But when the fate of Scyllia hangs in the balance, can anyone survive?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Bertolini
• Release date: Mar 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301305384

Michael Bertolini

I live in Simsbury, Connecticut where I graduated from Central Connecticut State University with a bachelor's degree in history. I have been writing for years but published my first book, The Cold Tower, in February 2010. My writing appears on various creepypasta websites online and in print. [Many of the published books are available from all major online book sellers as well as my website; all are available on my website or at Amazon.com].

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BOOK FIVE

Michael J Bertolini

COPYRIGHT 2013 MICHAEL J BERTOLINI

SMASHWORDS EDITION

PROLOGUE

Domoros raised his hammer and struck a bolt, shaking the prison holding his fellow deities. Ratta stood on the opposite side of the bars, arms crossed, watching the smith’s progress. She was the pinnacle of female beauty; with a thin frame and flowing blonde hair, mortal men could not resist her. Ratta’s eyes were closed as she listened to the whispers reaching her ears. After weeks of imprisonment, Ratta had not been able to communicate with her mortal worshippers; she could only imagine the panic caused by her silence. It had fallen to another deity, Thum, to answer prayers for Ratta; yet that was difficult to do and many faithful heard only silence. Now that Domoros was slowly breaking the prison open, Ratta’s sensitive ears could pick up faint echoes of desperate prayers. Though she was unable to do anything, she could still hear the pleas.

Ratta; if you can hear me, grant me the power to get through this…

Oh Ratta, why have you been so silent? I need you now, more than ever…

This might be a strange request, but there is a bar wench that I want to meet…

Ratta, if you hear this, stay away from him…

Alpha Ratta, kaikki ajat voisitte hylkää meitä, tämä on pahin aika...

Sweet Ratta, tell me that my fallen husband will be alright...

Ratta, bring luck to those that saved my daughter…

I need my magic…

Ratta tuned the whispers away so that she could focus on a single prayer that had reached her angular ears; ‘stay away from him…’ was a very odd request. Using all her strength, she listened to the entire prayer.

Ratta, if you hear this, stay away from him. I do not think I could bear it if he dies, and your return will herald that event. I do not expect him to survive the three hours that the last unfortunate soul managed; he is weaker than his brother despite any bravado he shows. So I ask again, stay wherever you are and keep away from him.

Who are you? Ratta whispered, louder than she planned. Domoros stopped his work and looked at her, his black eyes turned to the Goddess as he wiped sweat off of his brow.

Did you say something? He asked.

No. Ratta snapped. Domoros shrugged and returned to his work. It would take some time to free the Gods and Goddesses that had fallen into Ekrat’s trap. One of the few Gods imprisoned with Ratta, Atoann, put his wrinkled hand on Ratta’s shoulder; she turned to him.

I heard you. Atoann spoke gently, his white beard barely moving.

Do you know who was praying to me, it was not a disciple of mine.

Of course I do.

*

Dineth made sure that she was isolated before dropping to her knees. She clasped her hands in front of her chest and bowed her head, eyes closed. She was going to do something not usually done by her elf kin; speak to a Goddess that was not her own. Judging by Taniyan’s condition, Ratta was likely unable to hear the prayer; but, Dineth wanted to try regardless.

Ratta, if you hear this, stay away from him. I do not think I could bear it if he dies, and your return will herald that event. I do not expect him to survive the three hours that the last unfortunate soul managed; he is weaker than his brother despite any bravado he shows. So I ask again, stay wherever you are and keep away from him. Even though she did not get a reply, Dineth felt as though her words were heard. As her eyes opened, she felt a part of her soul tingle as though touched by something she could not perseve. But if Ratta could not hear her words, Dineth decided to send the same prayer to the Goddess that governed the elves of the Southlands; Jaina. Unlike Ratta, who heard prayers from all races, Jaina only listened to Southland elves; she only spoke in the language of the Fey.

Jaina, kuule minua, jos haluatte, ja pitää Ratta antamasta valtaa takaisin Taniyan Oronar. En usko, en voinut kestää sitä, jos hän kuolee, ja palaat viitoittaa tietä tapauksessa. En odota häntä hengissä kolme tuntia, että viimeinen onneton sielu onnistunut, hän on heikompi kuin veljensä, vaikka mitään uhmakkuus hän näyttää. Joten kysyn uudestaan, pysy missä olet ja pysyä erossa hänestä. Aina nöyrä, Dineth Storm.

Again, Dineth felt something. But unlike her prayer to Ratta, she felt Jaina’s reply.

Eräs kuten itse, ei ansaitse minun apuani, mutta minä säälin sinua. Minä teen mitä voin, jos vain siksi, ohitin sinun rukous pelastaa tyttäresi elämää.

*

The graceful figure of Jaina appeared in the door to Ekrat’s castle home, her shimmering gown draped over her shoulders giving the impression of snow. Her red and gold hair was parted down the center of her head and her long Fey ears flanked the sides of her face. Jenai appeared to float when she walked while an unseen orchestra played for her. She stopped next to Domoros, who had not seen her, and put a thin hand on one of his sweaty shoulders. The God stopped his work and turned to the Goddess, silently stepping away from the cage.

Olen täällä puhumassa teille, Ratta. Jaina spoke to Ratta. Ratta came forward when called; after Atoann revealed the identity of the one praying to her, Jaina’s visit was not unexpected.

Se on pitkä aika, kun olemme olleet samassa paikassa, Jaina. Missä on Z, en ole nähnyt lasta. Ratta wanted to be as civil as possible; even inquiring about Jaina’s son, Z. The child was important because no two deities had ever birthed a divine child until Jaina and her mate. Because of that act, many mortals thought of Jaina as a motherhood Goddess; but, she was adamant in only hearing the prayers of Southland Fey.

Z on hänen isänsä, Brayce. Mutta minä en ole täällä puhua heille, olen täällä puhua sinulle. Jaina was not going to let Ratta change the subject.

Mitä olen tehnyt? Ratta wanted to know what she had done to deserve Jaina’s attention.

Tiedäthän, Ratta. Sinä tiedät.

*

Are you alright? Taniyan asked when he saw Dineth rising to her feet. He had a hand on his sword, Harbinger, and his shoulders were tense; but he visibly relaxed when he saw that Dineth was alright.

Sorry, just had some lady business to attend too. She easily lied to Taniyan.

I hope I did not interrupt.

No, I have finished what I need to.

Good, Lauliss knows which way we should go to avoid most of Enlokirim’s army.

No attack?

We will attack, but we will be stealthy about the entire affair.

*

Domoros watched Jaina leave, fading into nothingness. He turned to Ratta, who was likewise watching Jaina depart. When Ratta felt Domoros’ stare, she turned to him.

Do you want me to keep going? He asked.

Yes; Jaina may be powerful but she is not superior to me. I have heard her suggestion and I choose to ignore it.

ONE

Amras Oronar walked slowly to keep pace with Isla Solwen. She had been slowing ever since they recovered the Archaeon. Isla’s body was showing signs of change as her overall mood began shifting; her breasts were growing so that the straps on her armor had to be loosened and she was starting to complain about swelling feet though she refused to replace her boots. Although they had no experience with pregnancy themselves, Alliana Oronar and Page Tarnis were trying to be as supportive as possible. Before his eventual death, Marros Nightwalker Huora had insisted on giving Isla a special herbal tea that would relieve some of the symptoms she felt while not affecting her baby’s development. Amras tried, unsuccessfully, to replicate the tea after Marros’ final passing. That had been a week ago.

How do you feel? Amras asked Isla. She glared at him when he asked, not for the first time. Amras knew, despite the angry stare, that Isla was not truly angry with him.

I hate you right now. For your own safety, I suggest staying away from me, she growled, before I break something you like. Amras stepped away, taking her advice. While he had taken the role of leader, Isla knew her body and could predict her own actions.

Do you want to rest? It was a silly question, Isla always wanted to rest unless a different feeling was overwhelming her.

I… Her face went blank as she wrapped her arms around her waist. Without another word she ran off the dirt path, into the nearby edge of a forest, and out of sight of her friends. But nobody was worried since this was not the first time Isla had run off. But both Alliana and Page were concerned when Isla began vomiting loudly.

Isla? Page called into the green but heard no response.

Maybe you should check on her. Alliana suggested. Page began nodding quickly.

We have to stay safe. Page ran off after Isla while Alliana leaned closer to her brother. Amras resembled a surface elf though he had dark hair and pale skin while Alliana, his twin, looked much like a moon elf with purple hair though her skin was lighter than common. She studied Amras’ calm face before speaking to him.

I have been thinking…

So, you are not just some duradil assassin? Amras smiled Alliana slapped Amras for the comment; he had occasionally referred to her as a ‘duradil’ which was an insulting name to all moon elves. Now he was mocking her intelligence.

I have been thinking… She repeated herself though her tone had gotten stiff and threatening.

About what? Amras asked as he rubbed the cheek that Alliana had smacked.

Isla; do you think she is up for this?

Up for what?

This, she held her arms out wide, everything; the road is not going to get any easier.

She can stop or turn back whenever she wants.

Does she know that?

Of course. In truth, Amras did not know if Isla was aware of her options; she had never told him what Mu said after visiting her in Minea.

Do you feel OK keeping her with us?

Why not?

Damn it, Amras; we are being hunted by assassins, monsters, dragons, and fate. We cannot afford to protect her at the expense of our own lives.

Isla is the mother of my child.

Yes; she is the MOTHER of your child. Nothing more, Alliana slowly walked away from him, you should remember that. She stopped a few paces away but said nothing else. Amras did not know how to respond which was probably for the best as Isla and Page remerged from the trees. Isla appeared relieved though there was no doubt that she would have to repeat the same process.

Are you better? Amras asked her as she walked up to him. Isla let Amras wrap his arms around her as she fought the tears that tried to emerge.

Amras…I do not know.

*

Elrohir Oronar, dressed in the gold and green armor typical of the Cal’adir army, slowly walked up a narrow rock path that led to a rock shelf a quarter of a mile away. At that rock shelf was an entrance to an underground cave which provided a quick way through the Scission Mountains. Elrohir had discovered the path by accident almost a century before Amras was born. At the time he had been traveling Scyllia with Fingon Darkleaf and Bishop Ironfist; searching for ways to make money without going home to work of physical labor.

*

Fingon had the best eyesight and was the first to notice the cloaked figure pursuing the trio. Bishop was a slow runner which was why Elrohir had taken so long to reach safety.

"Stand up." Elrohir hissed at Bishop. The dwarf stubbornly dragged his feet as the blonde elf tried to pull him to safety. They had been guests of a cat tribe the night before and Bishop had drunk more alcohol than the tribe managed to get in a year. It had been strong, even both elves had trouble sipping it; there was no surprise in Bishop’s illness.

"The rider approaches, Fingon was calm despite the situation, we can avoid unwanted confrontation by hiding up the ridge." He had been known as one of the calmest elves in Cal’adir and possessed a bright future. There was suspicion that he could rise through the Ar-Fainel ranks quickly if he ever had the desire to join that branch of the army.

"Bishop will come…eventually." Elrohir had to clench his teeth but managed to move his friend. They could not follow Fingon into the trees but were otherwise forced to run up a small ledge that was barely wide enough for Bishop. But the shelf was high above the ground and hidden from the rider. Fingon moved from his place in the trees to the ridge once the rider had passed.

"I wonder who was in trouble this time." Fingon said as he looked at Bishop.

"Do not look at me." Elrohir tried to deflect Fingon’s smile as he looked at the cave entrance he had not noticed before.

"What is that?" Fingon asked, his smile gone.

"It is a cave."

"Obviously; but to where? Fingon examined the edge of the cave but could not see any writing. Bishop coughed and pointed to the lower-left side of the cave entrance. What?"

"It leads to Sarcera…or at least it did." Bishop was nearly falling as he tried to walk on his own.

"How do you know?"

"There was once an engraving but it was cut away…a long time ago, he hiccupped, but dwarves carve their writing deep and I can read it from here."

"You are drunk." Elrohir laughed.

"Not drunk enough to miss that…nor drunk enough to forget that time you danced naked-"

"I thought we were not speaking of that anymore."

"Someone cannot handle his imported rum, Bishop laughed, we had better avoid drinking anything else from Verfahl unless we want to see Elrohir strip for a bar-wench again."

"Fingon could not handle the stuff either…" Elrohir smiled.

"Not another word." Fingon had his arms crossed and his features stern. It would be surprising, looking at the scene, to learn that Elrohir was the head of the Oronar Clan and a superior to Fingon.

"Fingon spent a night with a goat!" Bishop nearly vomited in laughter.

"I was not the only one paying for sex with a goat." Fingon looked away from his friends.

"Everyone else paid for a few hours with a sheep; you wanted a male goat." Bishop managed to stand on his own and faced Fingon with a wide smile.

"You tried to have sex with your beer mug!" Fingon countered.

"Enough! I do not know what will happen if we keep talking about our sexual failures." Elrohir stepped between his friends.

"Are you afraid of your own choices?" Bishop asked.

"That red-elf barmaid could have given you a fine night, though she was probably with so many demons before that-" Fingon mocked Elrohir. Elrohir clapped a free hand over Fingon’s mouth to quiet him.

"He was afraid that it was going to burn off!" Bishop and Fingon laughed together. Elrohir walked away, entering the cave, while his friends continued to laugh.

"Elrohir, come back." Fingon did not get a response to his call.

"We should go; that damn elf might fall in a spider’s web." Elrohir had not fallen in a spider’s web or any other animal’s web. He avoided every obstacle that he could have encountered and reached safety on the other side of the mountains.

*

After two and a half centuries, Elrohir hoped that the only difference was the collection of vines growing over the mouth of the cave. He did