The King of Russia: Square Root of Time

By Leroy Nichols and Susan Young

Times aren’t what they used to be. Literally.

With the multiverse rent asunder by Alimnazer the Hearteater’s interrupted ritual, all the possibilities—all the various interpretations of time and space—have a chance at being represented in the reformed universe. And somewhere or another, most are.

Josanin the Heartless, instrumental in leading the heroes to stop Alimnazer from becoming the only god of all time, finds himself in a strange land with his old enemies, Prince Wilelm and Princess Ambre. Realizing that Alimnazer is probably still alive and striving to complete his spell, the trio is faced with the fact that their feud may cost them the future if it continues.

Meanwhile, Peter Alexeyevich Romanov, known to history as Czar Peter the Great, awakens in a Kremlin he doesn’t recognize, surrounded by enemies from a future he never imagined. Desperate to stop this new enemy, Josef Stalin, from committing the atrocities attributed to him in the future, the Czar allies himself with David Benjamin, an Israeli Nazi-hunter, and Soundbyte, a masked vigilante who wields futuristic technology that ignites Peter’s imagination.

In Philadelphia, George Washington and America's other founding fathers are astonished to find themselves prodded into action by both the extra-terrestrial superhero known as Alien, and the legendary wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

Elsewhere, others are more concerned with simply staying alive. But as the heroes and ordinary folk of this new reality struggle to survive in a world that teeters on the edge of chaos, paths will cross, fates will be tied together, and common cause will be found.

Because Alimnazer is out there. Waiting.

And he has all the time in the world.

Book Two of the Square Root of Time series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leroy Nichols
• Release date: Jan 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386952534

Leroy Nichols

Suffice it to say, I have had a variety of jobs, some longer than others. Among the ones I most enjoyed was being a sports writer for the local newspaper, The Washington Daily News, and working in a computer tech-support role for an Internet company back in the dark ages of “dial-up is pretty much it” days. I am a life-long reader, since learning how by reading the comics every Sunday with my father as a little bitty fella. Being as that was around age four, it was six decades ago. My first real book that I read all on my own at the tender age of seven was “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” by Jules Verne. The school librarian really didn’t want to let me check it out but finally gave in. When I brought the book back the next day, she asked, “A bit too hard for you, wasn’t it?” To which I replied, “Oh no ma’am, I finished it and I want another one like it.” And I have never looked back since.

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 Author’s Note

The spellings in this series differ in places intentionally. For example, Elfin and Elven, and Elfs and Elves, are both used, and both are correct in their usage. Elfin denotes a smaller, man-sized—or slightly smaller—mortal with a life-span which would be considered extended by human standards. Elven refers to the taller, immortal—or effectively so, barring accidental death—version. Likewise, the title Tsar and Czar are sometimes used interchangeably. There are other instances where a modern word such as Sergeant is spelled as an older version of the same word, i.e. Serjeant. The reasons why one spelling is chosen over the other hopefully will be evident in the story itself—or at least that is my intention. Some characters are able to speak telepathically, and I have set that speech inside asterisks—*—to differentiate it from regular speech or internal dialogue. The communication between creatures who use body language, pheromones, or other non-verbal forms of physical communication are written in bold type.

Prologue

THE MUSIC WAS BROKEN.

For all time and space, it was broken—perhaps beyond repair. What was, is, will be did not cease existing as might be expected. Instead it co-mingled in a strange new symphony. No longer was the progression orderly and smooth. Instead it fought and jarred, each note seeking to be heard at once as the time-space whirlpool around Alimnazer sought some semblance of stability.

The grand notes of creation did not die–whatever caused their existence in the first place did not allow the extinguishment of these first, last, and all-in-between notes. But the weak force that had been the sheet the notes were written upon was shredded, and there would be no putting it back as it was ever again.

As Alimnazer screamed in frustration at the failure of his ritual to make him the only God of all time, the notes of creation and existence drowned out his cry. In an instance that lasted forever, everything was discordant. Then in another instance, the notes found a new progression. If the order was no longer smooth and silky, it still worked.

And then there was Light, and the new music of creation was heard bringing the multiverse back into existence. What was, is, and will be did not disappear. Time-space did not cease. But things were oh so different.

1

Zero

Day One

AN EXPLOSION OF LIGHT AND discordant music rocked the world. As the glow of the light faded to the brilliance of a sunny noonday, a number of figures coalesced on a small hilltop. Their existence solidified as the last notes of the strange-sounding music echoed across the rolling steppe land. Finally, the music was gone, replaced by a gently crooning breeze that caressed the grasses and bushes of the landscape.

Pain was the first thing Chandra realized. The landscape was bathed in sunlight, something that the Aldheric Elf had never seen before this moment. Through her closed eyelids, the pressure of light pounded its way into her skull. Despite all her training, a small moan of pain escaped her lips.

Chandra caught the next gasp of pain and clenched it back, behind teeth ground shut as hard as she could manage. Mother would be so shamed by that display of weakness, thought Chandra. Of course, my simply being here in the Great Above is more shame for the family than she will ever forgive.

With that thought, Chandra sat upright. How did I get here?

With her hands shading her eyes, Chandra squinted at the landscape. And where is here?

A cheerful voice to her rear said, Well, I cannot rightly tell you the answer to either question, but at least you aren’t alone in wondering either one.

Her training took hold. Chandra flowed to her feet, drawing her sword from its sheath. She whirled to face her unknown companion, her sword-point between her and possible danger. As it was another Elfin voice, the danger had to be great. The war of the Black Elfs of the Deep Dark had lasted for uncounted generations against their light-loving cousins from the Great Above.

Who are you? What do you know of my being here? she demanded. The light was dazzling, nearly blinding Chandra, but she held her sword-point steady.

Well, my name is Kevan. And as far as why you are here, I really couldn’t begin to guess why. I certainly do not know why I am here, nor any of the others, and your presence is as much a mystery as it is for any of the rest of us.

The rest of who? Chandra asked suspiciously.

Let me see—there is an extremely tall Human and a shorter Human, four other Elfin kin, and me, and now you. I really don’t know much more than that, Kevan said nervously. "Ah, you are going to keep that sword dry, aren’t you?"

Perhaps. Chandra thought quickly about her limited knowledge of the situation. She slipped her sword back into its sheath. Forgive the sword-point, but I have never met anyone from the Great Above who was not in the Deep Dark as a slave. And speaking of that, is one of the other Elfs a young female? And have you seen any sign of an older Human female with many scars? They were my traveling companions on the way to the Great Above, and I seem to have misplaced them somewhere.

Well, no to both questions, though one of them is a young female, but she is dressed as no slave. I fear we are all misplaced. Come with me and meet the others. Perhaps we can collectively come up with some answers.

Forgive me—Kevan, did you say? First let me do you the honor of giving you my name, said Chandra, though speaking so humbly to an Elf from the Great Above was an entirely novel experience for her. I am the Lady Chandra of Krysnos-Louksna, the House Blackmoon. She paused for a moment, then added, At least I was of House Blackmoon. I was trying to escape the Deep Dark, when…when whatever it is happened. Is it always so painful up here?

Kevan cocked his head to the side and stared at the young black female Elf. Painful? What pain? Are you hurt somehow? I don’t see any blood. Where does it hurt? How long has this been going on? The pain, that is. How long have you been suffering? What type of pain exactly…

Chandra interrupted his litany of questions. This terrible brightness. It stabs my skull and burns my eyes. My head rages.

Hmm, well yes, I suppose it would, Kevan said. "You are from the Deep Dark, after all. You have never probably even seen sunlight before. Of course, it is a very bright sunny day today. It is nice and warm, also, and I shouldn’t be surprised that you find that a bit uncomfortable, as well. Do you in fact find the heat uncomfortable?"

Chandra merely grunted in the affirmative and Kevan continued with, Well, there you go. That is exactly the reason of it, altogether and exactly the reason. I am afraid it is the price you must pay for your ancestors choosing the Deep Dark. From what I have learned, all of you Aldher are very light-sensitive, and here you are, the living proof of just the same.

Kevan punctuated his statement with a single brief nod of his head, crossed his arms and stood as in thought.

I did not choose the Deep Dark, said Chandra. I listened to the words of Wiltana and Veralyne. I want the light, no matter how foolish my ancestors may have been—no matter what oaths they swore, I have not given my blood word on it, and I tell you, I want the light. I dream of unicorns—tell me true, would an evil creature do such? Despite stories told in the Great Above, I am not evil by nature, and I do not choose to live in an evil land. I choose the light, though it burns me and blinds me. I will not go back to the Deep Dark. I will live in, and if need be, die in the light, no matter what the cost.

A Returner, that is what you are, said Kevan, his voice rising with excitement. Why, I have heard of such, but it is so exceedingly rare that it is easy for one to discount it as nothing more than a bedtime tale. If it happens even once in a thousand years, we count it as a blessing.

Chandra’s expression turned grim. That’s because of the Hall of Spears. Most of us who try to get to the Great Above wind up with our heads mounted on a spear-point and put in the passage known as the Hall of Spears. I think that is what would have happened to us—me, Wiltana, and Veralyne—except…except that whatever happened intervened.

Chandra stopped talking. Her jaw trembled once, but no sounds escaped. Her white-on-white eyes glistened, but her tears were held back. Control took all of her training, all of her stubborn will. There was no room for talking. So much was so strange, so unexpected, and so different, and so much had been lost to gain this odd new place, most especially her only two friends in the world. Where were they now?

From the far side of the hill, the sound of increasingly loud voices could be heard. Kevan turned his head and looked back over his shoulder.

Chandra pulled her emotions together and stored them away for a later date. What is that noise?

I think that one of the nobles is trying to talk to the big Human. At least, I believe that is who is shouting right now, and that sounds like the man shouting back at him. Come, let’s go see what is happening.

With that, Kevan turned and walked towards the other side of the hill. Chandra gave a mental shrug and followed.

Or at least she started to follow, until a vine in the grass caused her to stumble. She fell forward, twisting deftly to catch the blow on her side instead of her face.

Kevan looked back in puzzlement. Now what is she doing falling down in a wide-open meadow? Then a slow dawn of recognition came over his face. She truly doesn’t know anything about the surface world. How strange it must seem to her.

Here, let me help you up, Kevan said.

Chandra started to snap a refusal out of habit, then she reconsidered. How likely was it, really, that this Elf would be hiding an assassin’s needle? Slowly, she raised her hand to grasp the outstretched hand of her new friend. I am changing so much. What will I become in a few days or even more—a few weeks up here in this gods-awful bright light that I sought at so dear a price?

I am not usually so clumsy, but down below, we do not have so many plants just running wild across the floor, Chandra said.

Ground, said Kevan.

What?

We call it the ground and not the floor, said Kevan, except when we are actually inside a building or a built structure as opposed to the outside. I know such little things as that must be difficult to catch, what with you just being here, instead of there but…

It is alright, I understand what you mean, said Chandra, with the intention of slowing her companions’ torrent of speech to a trickle if such were possible.

Chandra was gratified by Kevan stopping altogether, turning loose of her hand, and moving on to the hilltop. Chandra followed, carefully watching—as best she could in the brightness—where she put her feet. Because she was watching the ground, she did not immediately see the Elfs and Humans on the far side of the hill when she crested the gentle incline. However, she could hear them very clearly.

Raising her head and shading her eyes with her left hand, Chandra saw six individuals below her and Kevan. One—dressed in very fine Elfin chain—was waving his hands and shouting at the tallest Human. The man was dressed simply in a tunic that came down to his knees. He was half again as tall as Chandra, if not more, and was by far the tallest Human she had ever seen. The tall man was just as busy shouting and waving his hands back at the Elf.

I think they believe that if they shout loud enough and wave their hands hard enough, the other will inevitably have to come to understand the message. I am not so certain that it will actually work, mind you, but they both seem so determined to try, so what can you do? murmured Kevan.

As Chandra contemplated this thought, she observed the others standing below her watching the two shouters. One was a stout Human warrior wearing ordinary-looking, Human-made chain mail. The second was an Elf dressed in drab-colored leathers. The third was an Elfin noble—possibly royalty of some sort—to judge by his ornate chain and plate armor. The final non-shouting person was an Elfin female dressed in a shimmering, gauzy wrap that barely covered and concealed her lithe body beneath it.

With a roar of hatred and dismay, the Elf in the ornate chain and plate interrupted the shouting match. His blade cleared its sheath and he slipped into a fighting stance. The others turned to see what menace threatened. Chandra started to draw her own weapon, but with a visible effort restrained herself. Kevan, his eyes grown wide at the sight of the swordsman below preparing to attack, was for the moment silenced.

Please put away your weapon, said Chandra. I am not a threat to you, though my family would kill me to hear those words.

Simultaneously, both the Elfin nobles tried to speak, resulting in a discordant babble of voices.

’Ware the Dark Elf’s lies!

Fair words from a foul creature!

Then Kevan’s clear voice cut through the words of the others, silencing their tongues. I am a Priest of the Sun, and I say this is a child of the Light! Cross these words to your dismay and destruction. Hold your weapons and your tongues when you know not what is about! She is a Returner from the Deep Dark. Look and marvel at what is not seen but once in a thousand years.

The two Humans simply looked confused, not understanding a word of the speech of their companions. Initially, the Elfin listeners were nearly as confused as the Humans at the priest’s speech, though they understood the words. Returners were part of their lore, but such a rare part of it, that any given Elf might never witness a Returning during his or her lifetime. Such Returnings were typically joyous occasions, marked by ceremony and celebration. To have the priest announce such a momentous event in the midst of an ordeal that already defied explanation left them speechless.

Finally, after a long minute of stunned silence, the Elfin noble who had been engaged in the shouting match said, I am Prince Sazun of Bheigw-e Dhghem, the Shining Earth-land. Welcome to the Light, though I must own that this light is not where I was, nor do I suspect that it was the light that any of us saw only a short while ago before that blinding flash and horrid music.

The other richly-dressed Elf spoke up, I am Prince Kesander of Ghremen of the Four Kingdoms. Priest, how do you know your words are true?

Three times she claimed the Light and denied the dark. Would her Dark Queen take her to her bosom after such a denial? The answer is no, now, and forever. This Elf is a true Returner and is as much your sister as if you had the same mother.

For a few minutes, the little Elf priest had stature beyond his size, words beyond his apparent measure. Once the moment of crisis passed, Kevan seemed to collapse back into his slightly befuddled state. Uh, perhaps introductions are in order for all of us. My name is Kevan. I am a priest of the Sun.

When Kevan finished, and before he could find wind to continue, Chandra spoke, I am Chandra of Krysnos-Louksna, one of the great Houses of Dhubus Minos, and I truly was seeking the light of the Great Above—though I had no idea that the light was so bright and painful.

The young female said, My name is Bhella, and I am a dancer.

The other Elf, the one dressed in the drab leathers, said, I am called NightRunner. I hear your words, Chandra of Krysnos-Louksna, and I welcome you to the pain of the light.

Prince Kesander slowly sheathed his sword, his face a study in confusion. He asked, Prince Sazun, how can you be from a dead country? Bheigw-e Dhghem died in flames at the end of the Second Cycle[1].

To which Prince Sazun said hotly, What do you mean, died in flames? I walked out of my home only this morn, and I quite well assure you that the Crags and Mounts of Bheigw-e Dhghem is not a dead land. Furthermore, what do you mean, at the end of the Second Cycle?

Bhella the Dancer said, I may not be high nobility, Prince Kesander, but I know I was born in the year 2256 of the Second Cycle, and though I am still young, I can add my two hundred and fifty years to my birth year to know that this is 2506 of the Second Cycle.

The two Humans stood looking confusedly towards their Elfin companions, still not understanding any of the words that were being exchanged. However, that did not keep them from either hearing the strain that entered the Elfin voices, or from seeing the expressions of real terror that began to emerge.

It is not the Second Cycle, it is the Third Cycle!

No, it is the Second Cycle.

The year is 4499.

2404!

2506.

3305.

Bhella crumpled to the ground in tears, sobbing. I am not mad! I know when I was born, and I know what year it is! What has happened to us? What has happened to me?

With a smoothness of movement that belied the difficulty she had in seeing, Chandra went to the grief-stricken girl and knelt down beside her.

I do not know what has occurred, but your crying will not restore you to your proper time and place. Control yourself, for your sake and for all of us as well. I cannot promise you anything will ever be alright after whatever it was that happened brought us together, but falling to pieces will aid neither you nor any of us.

Bhella held out her arms. Chandra gathered her in, being careful not to hold her too tightly, for Chandra was dressed in armor and Bhella was not. Gradually the dancer’s tears stopped. More quickly, the others fell silent until only Bhella’s fading sobs filled the air. After a time only the wind, gently blowing, provided any sound.

We are lost, said Chandra, lost on the ground we stand upon, and lost upon the time we know. I know not what has occurred, but I truly believe as Kevan the Priest said, ‘I am your sister,’ and even more, all of you are mine—one and all, fate has dropped us here to live or die as it may occur.

Startling his companions from their contemplation with a great roar of disgust, the shorter war-clad Human smashed the ground with his mace. Everyone else jumped, and those with weapons scrambled to get them ready for whatever. The warrior pounded the ground again, striking at something in the grass. His arm rose a third time and drops of wet, glistening something flew from his mace as another smashing blow rained down.

For a moment, everything was bedlam. Bhella screamed. Chandra whirled, her sword and shield ready. The dancer scrambled past the Dark Elf. Chandra saw something crawling towards where Bhella had lain. She slashed at the strange melon-sized thing that was moving forward in the grass. Her blade bit deep into the creature’s side and stuck. Chandra raised her blade with the small, soft-shelled thing still embedded upon it. With another chopping motion, she brought the blade back down and severed the creature into separate, oozing parts. It gave one spasm, then both parts died.

By the darkness below and the light above, what is that thing? Chandra asked.

About that time, the tall Human in a tunic stretched out his arm—said something incomprehensible—and a blaze of flame shot from his fingertip to burn another of the small creatures. The creature recoiled and tried to turn away, but the mace-wielder smashed it.

For a short span, silence followed as everyone looked about to see what further threats might be lurking in the tall grass.

These are, or were, ticks, said NightRunner, though what brought them to be such a huge size, I cannot say.

No, these cannot be ticks, said Prince Kesander, I have pulled many ticks from my horse after a day in the field, and these are simply too big to be ticks.

What are you saying, that I am a liar? NightRunner’s reply came quickly.

Half-breed, I’ll say anything I like! Kesander said.

Prince Sazun intervened with, Peace, for all of our sakes! Kesander, he has no choice in his parents. NightRunner, hold your ire in check. They do indeed resemble ticks, but their size defies reason. Why, a few of these could drain a horse in short order.

Or an Elf, Bhella said with an involuntary shudder.

Chandra murmured to Kevan, Half-breed?

Kevan whispered back, Aye, look closely and you will see the trace of his Human blood, though I would wager that he was raised as a full Elf. His speech is pure enough at any rate, and he does not grow a beard to speak of, like a full-blooded Human would have on his face.

Chandra thought about that while she cleaned her blade on the grass. Perhaps things here in the Great Above were even more complicated than life had been in the Deep Dark. It certainly seemed that was the way of things from the few minutes she had been here. Again, Chandra wondered how she had gotten there.

Though the two glared at each other for a moment, NightRunner and Prince Kesander held their peace after Prince Sazun finished talking. Everyone else, including the two Humans, held their speech for a long minute as well.

Prince Sazun said at last, We are bound together now, all of us—even the Humans. Kesander, I know as well as any that these companions may not be the ones I would have chosen to chance my life with, but what choice do we have? What choice do any of us have? We must work together if we are going to live to see the morrow, and aye, likely the day after that, as well. What say you, will you cooperate so we all may survive?

Kesander frowned, but nodded. Aye, you have my word as a Prince of Ghremen that I will see all of you survive if it be within my power to do such.

Sazun looked at each of the others in turn and received their consent as well, save for the two Humans who did not understand the language.

The tall Human pointed towards his chest and said slowly and clearly, Arakias.

The shorter man stared for a second, then a look of discovery came over his face. With his left hand, he pointed to his own self, saying as he did so, Sir Armstrong of York.

I do believe they just told us their names, said Kevan, though of course I cannot be certain of that fact. Still, it is a start towards communication. I wonder if they can learn to speak Elfin speech? It would certainly make things easier for the rest of us if they could talk to us as easily as I speak to all of you.

Chandra thought, So long as they are briefer in their speech.

Prince Sazun said, I believe you are correct, ah, Kevan, isn’t it?

Pointing to himself, Sazun repeated his name. Following his example, the rest did the same in turn. The tall Human carefully repeated each name, while the warrior did so with less skill and certainty.

What are we to do? asked Bhella, I do not believe that any people have ever been as lost as we are. We have no food, no water, no supplies at all. Now that we all know each other, are we going to die out here?

Nonsense, said NightRunner. Just look at this land. It is rich with food and green with water. There is absolutely no reason to worry about starving or thirsting to death in such a place as this. Still, why don’t we head towards that forest to our north? It should be even easier to find shelter, food, and water there than here in these rolling hills. Come nightfall, we’ll likely want a fire, and for that we’ll need something for fuel.

Kesander looked towards the tree-line in the distance. Where there is a forest, we may also find Elfin kinsmen.

There is that, as well, said Prince Sazun. Perhaps there are more learned heads than ours who may know what brought us here, and how we may return.

I do not wish to return, Chandra said quietly, but I will do all that is within my power to aid each of you, if the fates will permit it.

It took some patient hand-signing to get the Humans to understand what NightRunner proposed, but shortly thereafter, the group started trudging northward. The sky was a bright blue, with a few high white clouds drifting slowly southward. The temperature was hot, but the breeze blowing steadily out of the north provided much-appreciated relief.

The going was slow, for Bhella was completely unused to such hiking and was hindered by her flimsy footwear, while Chandra could barely see in the—for her—bright light. Neither of the two Elfin nobles was used to such a walk, being much more accustomed to having their horses do the traveling for them. The Human warrior, Sir Armstrong, appeared to be just as unused to walking as either Kesander or Sazun. Only Kevan and Arakias had no trouble keeping up a steady walking pace. NightRunner ranged ahead of the group, moving out at an easy lope that ate up the ground without seeming to affect the half-breed’s endurance at all.

Chandra, who had spent her entire lifetime underground, surrounded by good, solid walls and a solid roof of stone above her head, found the open grassland unsettling. It is true that it would be difficult for anything to sneak up on a person out here, but there is also no cover at all if something does show up, she thought. Why, someone could even be attacked from above. Now there’s a disturbing thought. Looking up at the sky made her feel queasy and light-headed—so much nothing overhead, and it all seemed to be pressing down on her—but she could hardly tear her eyes away from it for more than a few minutes without glancing up at it once again.

What are those things up there? Chandra asked finally, pointing up at the sky.

What things? I see nothing but clouds. Sazun’s words were clipped and irritable.

The fluffy white things.

Those are clouds.

Yes, Chandra said, but what are clouds? Are they made of smoke? She couldn’t remember anything regarding clouds in the many stories she’d heard.

Obviously, she knows nothing of clouds, Sazun. Kevan’s tone was slightly chiding. How could she? Clouds are simply a dense mist of water that floats in the air. The wind blows them about here and there, and sometimes they gather together in huge piles that cover many miles.

Do they ever fall?

Kevan chuckled. Well, the water falls in droplets at times; that is what we call rain. But it falls a little at a time over an entire area, not all at once.

Is one able to drink this water?

Kevan’s voice was reassuring. Oh yes, it is good, clean water and can be used for things that require especially pure water. Rituals, especially, but more mundane things as well.

Chandra nodded her thanks and trudged on. She was growing exceedingly thirsty, and the talk of water made her thirst even more keenly felt. Still, she was relieved that a cloud was unlikely to fall and crush her. She tried very hard to concentrate on putting one foot carefully in front of the other and ignore the vast, oppressive nothingness above her.

The tree-line that the group headed towards was a long, exhausting walk away. Frequent stops were needed to keep everyone together. NightRunner looked disdainful every time they stopped to rest, though he held his peace and did not comment on the general level of unfitness that was being demonstrated by such slow movement.

The hot air sapped the strength of Chandra worse than anyone else, but she kept her lips sealed and stolidly marched on whenever everyone else was ready to move.

By the middle of the afternoon, just when the heat seemed most unbearable, NightRunner said, There is going to be a storm soon.

Shortly, above the tree-line—which all but Chandra could now see—a towering wall of clouds loomed into sight. Within minutes, even the light-blinded Chandra could tell that the clouds were above them. Dark and majestic, the clouds began to release rain. First there were a few drops, then a few more—a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky—then the clouds dropped a flood. The rain pounded the ground with a vengeance, beating the tall grass flat. The wind speed increased, and the temperature decreased just as quickly.

Without any preparation for such an experience, Chandra was awed by her misery in the wet, terrifying wind. More lightning crashed, breaking the blackness of the day that so recently had been so bright and light. Chandra wondered, if this is the Great Above, then why does the dark seem to be overtaking it? She kept her thoughts to herself, partly because the noise of the storm was so great that speech would be difficult, and partly because Kevan walked beside her. Chandra feared setting off the Elfin priest’s tongue in another lecture more than she worried over her ignorance of the surface world.

Lightning bolts danced in the sky, slashing their way to the ground in a brilliant light show that rocked the world backwards and forward. The nearness of some of the strikes caused those with metallic armor to feel an uncomfortable tingle of electricity from time to time. The thunder volleyed and roared. Then the hail began, a small spattering at first, rapidly growing in intensity as the pellets of ice grew in size.

Chandra, Sazun, Kesander, and Sir Armstrong each bore a shield as part of their equipment and now the enemy that the shields warded off was the fist-sized balls of ice falling from the sky. Progress forward slowed even more as the group attempted to use the four shields to ward eight people. Arakias suffered the