The Nightbringer: The Tower and The Eye, #5

By Kira Morgana

The world of Quargard is at peace. The Heart Kingdoms of Galivor, Jinran, Franier, Valdir, Reldheim and Alethdariel co-exist harmoniously, but it was not always so - the stories of the Black Tower War keep the children of the four kingdoms in check.

Parents ensure that they eat their greens and go to bed on time by passing on the tales of the Dungeons of Doom, ruled over by The Eye of The Overlord. Adults consider them to be only stories, but stories are sometimes true and they always go around in cycles...

 

The Midwinter Solstice Beacons snake across Quargard as the Aracan Katuvana plots his next move. The surviving Heroes of the Dungeons gather to plan his demise. The Gods watch the Heroes and wait.Behind it all the Jar completes its designs, setting into motion a conflict that is intended to set the Dark Gods free once more.

Who will prevail? Not even the Gods can tell…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teigr Books & Designs
• Release date: Oct 31, 2025
• ISBN: 9798232758431

Kira Morgana

Kira thought she was a Teacher, until Life pointed out to her that she is actually a writer. As her Cats, Kids and Partner (in that order) approved, she decided to agree with Life. Currently she is attempting to complete all the First Drafts on her SSD so that she can write something competely new; this of course is impeded by the fact that she attracts so many Inspiration particles that new First Drafts keep happening. As if that weren't enough to do, she also commits amateur dramatics regularly and is delving into the world of Illustration and Graphic Novels She does all this from a body in South Wales, UK. Her mind hasn't caught up yet and is still at Uni in Plymouth...

Book preview

Prologue

FROM HER HOUSE ON THE tallest mountain in the northern range, Fiörna, Goddess of Birth and Destruction, Mother of the Gods, looked down over the Heart kingdoms.

Winter had them in its grip and on this, the most holy day of the year, the towns and cities were full of revellers. In the north-west, Galivor had prospered under the rule of its young King and as part of their Winter Solstice celebrations were signing a mutual assistance treaty with Valdier and Viraldin.

Fiörna watched Korin sign his name on the parchment with a flourish, just above the signatures of the other two kings and she smiled.

That’s better.

Mother, Espilieth’s voice preceded her as she entered the room. Who are you talking to?

No one, my darling. I was just watching Korin. Fiörna turned away from her window to face her eldest daughter. How can I help you today?

Espilieth’s face twisted with emotion.

Allow me to get my revenge on that madman in I’Mor Barad.

The Mother of the Gods opened her arms and Espilieth went into them, tears rolling down her beautiful face. Fiörna enfolded her daughter with her love while the young woman sobbed into the soft woollen robes her mother wore.

You know I can’t override your father, Fiörna murmured into Espilieth’s golden hair. It would cause all sorts of difficulties. Besides revenge is never a good idea.

But he destroyed Vrenstalliren and Ariana. He’ll kill Kalytia as soon as he can get to her. He hates me. Espilieth pulled back and looked up into her mother’s calm face. It’s not just my followers either. Tyr has lost a cleric to him and Qin-Dar was slain as well. One of the Unicorn Clerics; you know how devastating that loss is to the Unicorns.

Fiörna sighed and guided her daughter over to a pair of comfortable chairs beside the fire. She sat Espilieth down firmly and rang a bell, before she sat in the chair opposite.

You rang, Mother? A young girl in a white dress ran in and curtseyed. A small silver horn button in her forehead proclaimed her to be a unicorn in human form.

Bring mulled wine and pastries, please Qin-Dareya. Fiörna smiled as the girl curtseyed again and skipped out of the room.

Was that... Espilieth frowned.

...Qin-Dar’s reincarnation? Of course. You didn’t think I would let her suffer that direly without rewarding her, did you? Fiörna’s smile widened at her daughter’s consternation. You rewarded Ariana and Vrenstalliren similarly I noticed. As did Tyr; I believe that Arnhammen is currently enjoying the pleasures at Tyr’s palace of Varhalien before he is reborn.

Espilieth blushed. Well of course we’d reward them. They sacrificed themselves to save their companions.

Qin-Dareya returned with the wine and pastries, momentarily halting the conversation as she served them.

Fiörna kissed the girl on the cheek and told her to go play for the rest of the evening, before she returned her gaze to her daughter.

You do realise that I know what is going on, don’t you?

Espilieth’s blush deepened as she sipped her wine.

What would that be, mother?

The older goddess ignored the question, choosing instead to enumerate what she had seen.

"Calliale’s intervention in the Jinra incident and Keiliare sending a champion to deliberately invade His territory in Frazin, Vaarzasia’s messenger accompanying Kraarz everywhere; none of those were unintentional. It makes me wonder; was Ariana’s death really the accident you claimed it to be to your father?"

Espilieth shrugged. I didn’t know that she’d found the Tear.

You expect me to believe that you didn’t know where one of the most powerful objects in Quargard was, do you? Fiörna raised one eyebrow. Please don’t try to keep things from me, Espilieth. I only just managed to deflect your father’s attention from that one.

The Goddess of Magic and Healing sighed.

I did try to keep my sisters out of the dungeons, mother.

Well at least they didn’t interfere directly, that really would have set your father off. Fiörna sat back in her chair. "What is going on, Espilieth? And don’t try and fob me off with all that I’m just helping my followers rubbish."

Espilieth put her wine down and brushed crumbs from her green silk tunic.

He has found the Nightbringer’s Soul Jar.

Fiörna closed her eyes.

Oh, sweet Universe, bring me strength, she said. Opening her eyes again, she sat forward. Are you sure?

As sure as I can be without seeing it myself. Espilieth bit her lip. "Utharia lost one of her strongest followers during the Black Tower War. He has reanimated her and Slaanesh corrupted her. Recently, Utharia contacted her again; trying to retrieve her and my sister saw the Jar in her thoughts."

Are you saying that your brothers are aiding him? Fiörna said.

"Slaanesh is not my brother; none of Them are my family. Espilieth’s temper flared up. We trapped them in the Black Temple and put the Nightbringer in one of father’s Soul Jars for a reason, Mother."

I know, sweetheart. Fiörna blinked away tears. I just wish... she buried her face in her hands, and it was Espilieth’s turn to comfort her mother. She stood beside Fiörna's chair and stroked her hair.

There was a flash of white light and Fiör appeared.

What are you upsetting your mother with now? he moved to stand beside the chair, glowering down at her.

Espilieth looked up at her father, wondering how she could tell him without getting her siblings into trouble. As usual however, Fiörna came to her rescue.

It is nothing, my Love. Espilieth and I were talking about the world before the children began arguing, she smiled up at her husband through her tears.

He crouched beside her and kissed her gently.

You should not upset yourself so. That is in the past. We have more pressing concerns in the present.

Espilieth stood up. What’s happening, Father?

The Nightbringer’s Soul Jar is missing from the vault under the Heart Lake, he replied.

Fiörna gasped. Someone found it?

Espilieth hid her amusement at the deception. Mother has had eons at hiding such things. Then it turned

Aye, my love. I believe that it is the reason that the Aracan Katuvana is stirring again. He sat in a chair that appeared beside his wife’s, waving Espilieth to sit down in hers. We will need to gather a group of mortals to find it and retrieve it.

Espilieth nodded. I believe I know a few seasoned mortals who could take on such a task. Will you allow my siblings and I to aid them, Father?

Yes, daughter, I will; but no direct intervention. He smiled at her. I know I can trust you in this, Espilieth.

She looked at her mother, who smiled as well.

Thank you. I will gather our forces. She stood up and blew them kisses. Most of those I am thinking of are in Alethdar for the Midwinter Solstice celebrations.  If you will excuse me, I shall go apprise them of their quest. She shimmered into white light and disappeared.

She is the best of our children. Fiör mused.

Yes, my love, she is. Fiörna agreed.

Chapter One

The forest around the city of Alethdar rang with laughter and song as both human and elven guests converged on the main square in front of the palace as the short afternoon faded into the beginning of a long night. Everyone wore their best clothes and carried the traditional gold and black ribbons in their hands.

On the huge balcony on the front of the palace, Aletaraenia, the Queen of the Elves held court from a beautiful Elfwood throne. Beside her sat the princesses Lianadriella and Riellaniel, talking quietly to their mother; her consort Lord Vrenstali sat on her left, their young daughter Renstallia held by the couple’s adopted daughter Reddalia. The Queen’s eldest son, Lornraellien, sat on the other side of his stepfather, with his wife, watching their twin offspring playing with their toys at his feet.

A fanfare from the orchestra under the balcony heralded the entrance of Lady Julissa of Alethdan and her consort Lord Joran of Nor, with Ser Virrinel the Autochthon behind them. The Queen stood, greeted them and led them to seats beside Lornraellien. Virrinel took up station behind Julissa’s chair, his cat like eyes moving restlessly over the growing crowd.

A second fanfare brought everyone’s attention to Lord Aranok of Alethdar who escorted Lady Kalytia of Galindren up the stairs to the balcony where the Queen curtseyed to Lady Kalytia. The High Cleric blushed and raised the Queen to her feet with a smile. The Queen seated her beside Liana and Aranok stood behind her, his eyes straying down to look at the delicate hands of the princess where his promise ring sparkled in the soft candlelight.

The crowd settled down again, waiting for the beginning of the traditional Midwinter Hymn to be played.

We are going to be late, Vox. A voice rang through the crowd.

But this is such a wonderful place, I’ve never been here before and I want to see everything. A second voice full of excitement called back. At the back of the crowd a green ball of light whizzed across the gathering celebrants, dipping and swirling in dizzying patterns.

We are here on a mission remember, the first voice said.

A whisper began as the people at the back of the crowd saw the owner of the first voice. The whisper grew into a hostile muttering and the crowd parted before the newcomer. All around the square the guards straightened and glanced toward the Queen, their hands going to their weapons.

Leading a white elven mare, an old Urakh stumped through the throng. He wore the topaz and emerald robe of a Shaman of Vaarzasia and used a staff with a polished Cyclops skull on the end to aid his walking. The green ball of light zoomed across the heads of the assembly and finally perched itself in the eye socket of the skull.

Several of the closer guards moved toward the Urakh. The Queen rose from her throne, observed the situation, and then shook her head at the questioning look the Guard Captain threw her. He nodded and gestured to his lieutenant on the ground who blew a whistle. The guards returned to their positions and the Queen descended the stairs, the guard captain behind her.

The people hushed as the Urakh got closer to her. At the bottom of the stairs, the Queen waited.

My feet are killing me, the Urakh grumbled softly. Riding is all very well, but it softens the soles of the feet, and I’m not used to walking much now.

The green light pulsed softly.

Stop blathering, Kraarz. The Queen is waiting for you.

The Urakh came to a halt in front of the Queen and dropped the reins of the mare to the paving. Then he bowed.

Most majestic Queen of Alethdariel. I am Kraarz Spiritcaller, Shaman of Vaarzasia and friend to your son, Sir Vrenstalliren. This is Vox, my Guardian and Spirit Guide. He indicated the ball of light. I apologise for our late arrival.

The Queen smiled at him.

Late or early, any friend of my son is welcome to my house on this most holy of nights. Where is he? I expected him home a week or so ago.

Alas, my lady Queen, I have poor tidings for such a happy day, Kraarz sighed.

Then we shall move on with the ceremonial functions and talk in private afterwards. Will you and your friend join me on the balcony for the ceremony? She gestured and a footman came forward. He took the mare’s reins and led her away from the noise and confusion of the square. The Guard Captain retreated up the stairs at the Queen’s words.

We would be delighted to, Vox said, floating out of the skull and hovering above Kraarz’s head.

The Urakh bowed again and removed his hood as he straightened.

Indeed, your Majesty, I look forward to sitting down for a while.

The Queen seemed taken aback at his pure white eyes.

You are blind?

I lack the use of my eyes, yes. However, I can see in a myriad of other ways, so I have no difficulty in navigating the stairs before us. Kraarz smiled, his peg teeth glinting in the lantern light. After you, most glorious ruler.

The Queen smiled and led Kraarz and Vox up the stairs to a hastily sourced chair beside Kalytia.

As the first few bars of the Midwinter Hymn floated out of the orchestra’s instruments, borne on the last breaths of the evening breeze, dusk hardened into night.

Candles all around the square flared brighter and in the centre, the crowd moved away as the Bonfire was carried in on its brightly decorated cart, hauled by a team of golden elven horses. The cart was left in the heart of the crowd as the grooms unhitched and led the team away.

The crowd began to sing as the bonfire was lit by a group of young elves and half elves, none of them older than ten summers:

"As the year draws to an end,

And the winter seeps away,

Light we now, this earthly fire.

So, the sun will return to day.

Blessed be the little ones,

Who were born in the year just past.

Bless them Mother and Father too

As they grow in height so fast.

Blessed be the ones yet to come,

Who will be born under the New Year’s sun.

Bless them Mother and Father too,

As they learn and play and run."

The oldest child in the group lit a lantern from the bonfire and took the hand of the youngest one. The two of them walked through the singing crowd, who continued on with the hymn, to the stairs where they stopped and waited.

The Queen stood and descended the stairs. She leaned down and kissed each child on the forehead before taking the lantern from them and ascending again. In the front centre of the balcony stood a beacon. As the full moon reached the top of the tower spire, the Queen used the lantern to light the beacon.

Seconds later, a second beacon flared on the edge of town, and then one by one, Alethdariel was strung with flickering lights, like a necklace of flaming diamonds.

Let these beacons bring light into the darkness of midwinter, the Queen proclaimed. Only to be extinguished with the rising of the sun.

The crowd cheered.

The Queen held up a long gold and black ribbon.

May all who wear the ribbon of midwinter receive the blessings of the Light in the year to come. She turned and tied the ribbon around Kraarz’s arm. A servant handed him a matching ribbon which he tied on the arm of Kalytia. The ribbon tying carried on around the balcony until the last one was tied to the young Princess Renstallia.

Simultaneously the crowd tied ribbons on each other, exchanging hugs or kisses when they’d finished. The orchestra stopped playing long enough to tie ribbons on each other before they started up again, this time playing the traditional ending to the ceremony.

The Queen turned back to the crowd.

Let all kitchens be opened and the feasting begin.

Shouting their approval at the Queen’s words, the crowd began to move away toward their homes and the homes of their friends. Some of those at the back of the square were already sipping from bottles and laughing at the antics of the children who dashed in and out of each house, the baskets they carried growing heavier with goodies at each visit.

Kraarz smiled. I imagine there are going to be a lot of sore heads in the morning, he said to Kalytia.

There always are, the cleric replied. No matter what our race, we all celebrate in the same way; a great deal of excess over a very short time. She smiled. My Lady Espilieth will be hearing a lot of prayers to ease their pounding heads soon.

Kraarz laughed. So, she will.

Ser Kraarz. The Queen called out. You said you needed to speak to me in private. Follow me if it pleases you.

Kraarz stood up. I have a feeling that I shall be meeting you again soon, lady cleric.

She nodded. I have that same feeling, Kraarz.

Then, until later my lady, I bid you farewell. Kraarz bowed, turned and followed the Queen, Vox bobbing along above his head.

Chapter Two

Astorm alternately pelted massive hailstones and forked lightning down on I’Mor Barad. The thunder shook the colossal black stone tower down to its roots, the vibration dropping stalactites from the roof of the cavern that covered the Undercity around the tower’s base, onto the streets below.

The rock crushed several gremlins and a pair of unlucky dark wizards who were discussing the relative benefits of sleep spells over unobtrusivity spells while they made their way back to their lairs in the lower levels of the tower.

Safe in the observatory room, the Aracan Katuvana watched the storm’s ravages on the mountains around them from his tarnished gold throne. On the pedestal by the window, a carved and polished basalt Jar watched the watcher.

It is very quiet out there tonight, my lord Aracan Katuvana, it said.

The Aracan shrugged and continued watching the lightning blow chucks of rock out of the black granite that surrounded the tower.

The Lych Mistress reported back this morning. She confirms that all the dungeons are operating at maximum capacity and that your plan to build new dungeons in Jinran and Franier has been advanced. The Jar brought up a map of the Heart Kingdoms on a side window. "Custodian Torvan is currently getting settled into Frintar dungeon; Custodian Tiaoma has her gremlins working at full tilt in the new Southnra Dungeon with Lord Southnra’s full cooperation, and Custodian Jaelior has begun digging operations in Coptir."

A pleased sounding rumble, like a large cat’s purr, rolled out from under the Aracan’s hood at the mention of the Lych Mistress and her exploits. The Jar sighed and returned its large single eye to the map.

Across the civilised southern kingdoms of Valdier, Viraldin, Franier, Alethdariel, Galivor and Jinran, the light of the Midwinter Beacons sparkled. Each city was linked by a line of fires, with a brighter spot emanating from the centre of each capital city.

I can feel the waves of goodwill from the kingdoms, the Jar muttered in disgust. No matter. Let them enjoy their little festival of lights. We will have a much bigger celebration when our plan is complete.

The Aracan stood and strode over to the window.

Do you wish to watch something, Lord Aracan?

Aracan Katuvana muttered something and snapped his fingers, the window clearing of its map and zeroing in on the Queen’s palace in Alethdar. The brightly lit city heaved with