Lore of Eternal Shadow: The Fugitive King

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A fortnight had passed since Alyssa, Jannick, Lauren, and Salgan had split from Zicone's group. After nearly a week of travelling south they ran into the road from Narbon to the Westerlands. They spotted the last village before the edge of Galgaroth; the place where Jannick, Salgan, and Alyssa all met. They were able to get some news and it was grave. An army of creatures hideous and strange had appeared in the north some two weeks ago. The combined forces of the Cuivra, men of Tyre Pren, and even the Shol^Thol rallied north to counter this threat but were then duped. Only a week ago, another, larger army appeared in Narbon's southern territories around the city of Hathlos. The Galgarothian armies were being torn between defending Tyre Pren, keeping invaders out of the Shol^Thol lands, and retaking Hathlos. As Salgan had postulated one night, Caligo was making excellent use of teleportation. The battle of Narbon had been just a prelude to these sorts of tactics but none of the four were keen on sharing what they knew with the locals. Fear was beginning to take grip of Narbon as the citizens of Galgaroth faced the reality of war.

They now walked west along the very road both Jannick and Alyssa had taken to leave the Varian League. Mount Darin had been their fixation for another week until it passed to the northeast of them. They were in the mountains now, high above the level of the sea or of any tree other than a scraggly old knot barely hanging on to the mountain in the face of the wind. They made camp and in the twilight munched on the bacon and pork-chops from a wild boar killed earlier in the week, aided with a little salad Lauren whipped up from some dandelion leaves.

The four of them occupied their time with idle talk... that is if their lives' experiences could be considered "idle talk." Jannick told stories of his adventures like a textbook would. Alyssa probably wouldn't have believed him if he didn't have the subtle scars up and down his arms and legs to show her or his sword (which she didn't need to be a smith to realize was a rare, ancient, and powerful piece). Looking at his eyes after she asked him just who Tofi was, she saw the sort of pain there that somebody gains after watching a slow and painful death. Despite curiosity that was driving her mad, she didn't probe the subject too much after that.

The next day was rather uneventful; a quick breakfast, a quicker throwing of whatever they made camp with into their bags, and they were on the road. At about noon they came over a rise. Jannick had figured it would be the last before they could get an unblocked view of the Varian League that he'd left behind months before.

As the five reached the top of the rise, a sight they had not expected greeted them. Instead of great forested foothills leading into lush green valleys, they found... smoke. Smoke rose from north to south as far as they could see. Jannick looked into the distance in the direction of Vanian, the capital. Smoke rose there especially. Destruction still too distant to smell, hear, or touch filled their eyes.

Jannick exchanged a glance with Alyssa, Lauren, and Salgan before gazing back at the far off carnage. "Oh God," he whispered.

***

"Blast and damnation, this cannot go on!" a noble cried out. Caligo's throne room was alight again with debate. Argon's nobles and advisors stood at their places beneath flags of their houses. These were the scions of Argon's closest Zey^Rey followers. Aside from a few new additions most were or were descended from Zey^Rey who had become imprisoned with Argon more than two-thousand years before.

It was business as usual in the court of Argon. From their positions, the nobles would bicker at each other over matters of the state. Argon sat on his throne above everyone else. No one was allowed to speak to him unless spoken to. The courtroom was like an arena. The nobles would stab each other with words before their supreme audience (Argon) for the sake of favor and points.