SoO 3 - Chapter 5

Swords of Orlandia 3: The Khaz'Radan Prophecy
Chapter 5 - Effort

Two Kingdoms join and stand to Fight,
A Darkened Prince reborn by Light.

A King will rise and claim the Crown

When the one Pure Heart strikes Evil down!

Just a few sing song words whose rhyme had sung a tune of hope that echoed throughout the known world and unified a realm for the first time in a millennium. Aurelion knew they were close to Whylmere's clearing and knew also that without those few words none of them would have made it this far. The human and the fae each had their own shortcomings. But together they found a grand and inspiring strength.

"Not long now, sire" called a husky lieutenant who walked just ahead of Aurelion along the path only those familiar with the secrets of the wilderness would have been able to see. A rather large contingent moved this day, larger than normal for a search and recovery mission but this was no ordinary search and recovery. The Fang of the Earth Dragon lay ahead and once claimed the Anarchs would have reunited all of the Sacred Ten and at last have the power needed to call forth their saving grace...Khaz'Radan.

Yes, the Fang lay ahead, or more precisely a signpost of sorts that would point the way to it's last resting place and they were very close now. Despite their numbers, what amounted to a small army, they moved efficiently and fluidly through the thick landscape and had been doing so all day with no prolonged breaks save for a quick dawn repast. However as the day drew on Aurelion and many of the more sensitive in the party couldn't help but feel...disturbed. The shadows all around them seem darker than they should have been and the forest was strangely quiet and still. The twin suns were nearly overhead and hung close together in the cerulean sky. The air was thick with heat and anticipation. At that instant the forward guard hastily signaled for an 'all stop'. The tension grew and when the guard gave the 'all clear' moments later more than one sigh of relief could be heard in the ranks.

The statue of Whylmere and the clearing it occupied now stood just ahead. The party would have to leave the security of the forest in order to track down the last of the artifacts they needed. Aurelion assured his troops that they had nothing to fear, that they had been careful. He thought to himself silently but have we been careful enough? With nerves steeled against whatever might lie ahead he and his stalwarts moved reverently forward and approached the magnificent sculpture. And magnificent it was. Carved by those nearly as ancient as Whylmere himself and, if the legend held true, even the gods had a hand in it's creation for so favored was Whylmere by both the heavens and the earth. It was said Whylmere though sometimes persnickety to a fault was nonetheless the most honest person you could ever hope to meet. And he had the gift to sense truth in others as well. And so stood his monument with one armed raised skyward and one held at his waist, the hint of a knowing smile upon his face.

Aurelion moved through the crowd gathered around and read the inscription carved at Whylmere's feet. "A question asked with sincerity will always be answered in truth." With this Aurelion knelt and placed both hands on the rough hewn base. He was silent for a moment then spoke. "Orlandia is in great need. Her people suffer yet stand strong as you can see. We have journeyed for the Fang and, as you were close to it's original owner, I felt sure you would know where it lay hidden. If ever there was a time for it to reveal itself and allow us the use of it's terrible power one last time it is surely now. Will you show us the way?"

No sooner had the words crossed Aurelion's lips then did the upturned arm above him, the stone arm of the very statue itself begin to move. Those who watched closely may even have noticed that old Whylmere's smiled grew a bit wider as well. The arm traced a gentle downward arc as the open palm closed save for the index finger as if to point. And point it did! Once Whylmere's wizened limb finally rested parallel to the ground a bright and beautiful beam shot forth across the clearing and into the woods. Aurelion stood and knew his petition had been heard, his request granted. For the legends also held that the Fang had come to rest deep in the forests of Orlandia hidden in a humble shrine called Hegadon's Hollow. So well hidden in fact that no one without proper reason too would ever find it. They had done it, the Anarchs would claim the last piece and the puzzle that was Khaz'Radan would at long last be revealed. They had only to follow the illuminated trail and victory would be theirs.

Aurelion was so lost in his thoughts that it took him a moment to notice the horn blaring dis-concertedly from beyond the treeline. It stopped and a rustling began. And the rustling grew into a thrumming, the thrumming into a tumultuous pounding as the ground began to shudder. With a revelation that landed like a bludgeon cross his brow Aurelion expelled heavily "gods below we've led them right to it!"

A legion of Shadowfowl burst out into the daylight and ran full bore towards them and more importantly towards the Fang. "Go!" shouted Aurelion. His entire compliment turned and ran for the far side of the clearing where the light disappeared into the twists and tangles of a hundred elder oaks. The Foul were upon them with frightening speed and many of the slower soldiers were cut down before they even reached the edge of the clearing. Aurelion spared a quick glance as did many others and saw the dark tide that was about to come crashing down on them all. "Haste! Haste and fury!!!" bellowed the satyr just as a rather sizable enemy pounced up onto his back. Aurelion snatched at his assailants nape, tore him from his perch and cast him aside with a grace you might not expect from one as hulking as he. The Foul fell to the ground with a thud and a broken neck. On and on, over and under and through the thickets, roots and rocks Aurelion and his heroes raced keeping one eye on the beam guiding their way and the other on the feathered flurry all around them. Knives and swords found their mark but so did claw and beak. Scores of bodies lay in the wake of this grim procession as it kept up the stampede. Still the Shadowfowl easily outnumbered Aurelion's forces by 10 to 1, they could not keep this up and hope to win their lives this day much less the Fang.

A wind began to blow, a wild wind from an unknown direction that went largely unnoticed, for the moment, amidst the carnage. Aurelion now commanded less than two dozen fighters but those brave few kept up the pace until just over a small ridge and there for all to see Whylmere's trusty beam alighted upon a small portico that formed the entrance into what appeared to be a most shallow and unassuming cave nestled comfortably in the side of a small rolling hill. And inside...the Fang!

All eyes fell upon it simultaneously and legs reacted almost without thought. The Foul pounced and as the final leg of this race to end all races was run even more of the valiant fell. A small band broke free of the rush with Aurelion in the lead but even he, just feet from the threshold, was taken hard to the ground as several Shadowfowl attacked him at once in one concerted and vile effort. The wind grew stronger now, and more directed. It was as if a gail was bearing right down on them all. Aurelion couldn't allow himself to be distracted. He dug his hands into the ground and fought for every inch as wound upon wound was inflicted upon him. With one last and mighty effort he stood lifting himself and all the Foul that had attacked him. Then he charged the last few steps up into and right through the entrance, this mighty shambling mountain crashing through the columns pulling their support which in turn brought the pediment down on all their heads.

Then there was silence. Whylmere's light receded and then disappeared completely. The remnants of both armies sat heaving breaths of anticipation. Seconds passed like hours until the mound of rubble began to tremble, quake and dislodge until one lone figure rose above the cloud of dust and debris. And there before them all stood Aurelion...with the Fang of the Earth Dragon clutched firmly in his thick hand. The remaining fowl immediately moved to confront him but he raised his Fang filled fist and screamed! After the exertion of the preceding moments it wasn't as loud or as long as he would have liked but it seemed to work, they had stopped advancing and stood frozen in terror.

The wind picked back up, even stronger than before. Aurelion now noticed an enormous shadow cast directly in front of him from something enormous rising directly behind him. And then Smoake, last dragon of Orlandia, roared! The shockwave felled most of the Foul upon impact and sent the rest into hasty retreat. Aurelion had seen many things in his many days but never did he expect to see one of the great beasts long since vanished from this land. "I am but a spirit great satyr, but I see that is still potent enough. I am bound to that which you now hold and will soon leave this plane forever. For now though you must go...and quickly. Khaz'radan can wait no longer"

And with that he faded away. The satyr stood solemnly for a moment taking in all that had just happened. He felt hope grow stronger in his breast than ever before and turned back to his men many of whom sat dumbfounded at what they had just seen. And though stymied, in their eyes the same ember of hope sat sparking. Aurelion stared at the Fang and then addressed those who remained "The others will undoubtedly be on their way to Verdethena already. We must join them with all due haste."