SoO 3 - War of Talons - Chapter 10

War of Talons: Tales of the Wylde
Chapter 10 - The Darkest Hour

There was nothing at first. Aurelion's senses offered no information to orient him. Thoughts and memories flickered in muddy and distorted moments. The satyr never spent much time during his life pondering death, or what lay beyond the pale. His was a charmed and jovial existence, ever living in the moment, the merriment and happiness of others around him his only concern. He found the darkness calming, when he was able to think about it. Here the struggle was done. Nobody to fight, no suffering or sorrow, no joy to be had, but the better memories that flashed, seemed to grant enough solace. For a while, Aurelion felt he could finally rest. Then other thoughts came. Despite the soothing calmness of the darkness, Hedstrum, Dandel, and many other friends came into his mind. These were not memories... more like visions that invaded his peace from a faraway place. He could see images, even feel emotions of Orlandia's people, still suffering, still fighting. A single thought soon consumed his mind: His work was not done. The sound of wind crept into his knowing. It was constant, sounding like the sorrowful howl of a lost wolf. Soon after that came the odors of decay and of things that were burning. After a few moments the satyr could feel his body lying on cold sand, and the slightly abrasive caress of a desert wind. Dim light filled his vision as he blinked. There was a strange numbness about his form, a vague tingling as though there should be more to what he sensed. He managed to rise to his feet. No pain hindered him, despite being wounded by his enemies. Validus entered his thoughts briefly, the satyr's heart breaking as he felt he had failed the boy. Aurelion looked around, seeing a lifeless plain and a dim sky with no suns, no stars or moon, just a faint light from an unknown source. The satyr wasn't sure why, but something urged him into a direction and he began to walk.

The sand was loose and took effort to walk upon as Aurelion trudged through it. He was unsure how far he traveled, as time and any measure of it was lost to him. It felt like hours at one point, sometimes like days, even like minutes. A look back showed no footsteps to mark his progress. He continued nonetheless, driven by a simple thought that he had to keep going. The plain was featureless in all directions, and the wind blew relentlessly. The satyr wondered where he was headed and still had no idea why. Something pulled him across the sands, not allowing him to pause. A structure could be seen on the horizon now. It was a tower, which reached into the dead sky, a solitary spire cutting through the otherwise blank landscape. Aurelion pushed his foot into the sand, commencing his journey to what was apparently his destination. The tower seemed to taunt him, its distance ever increasing as he walked. The satyr persevered, and began to see other objects in the sands before him. As he approached them, the objects took more interesting shapes. They were corpses, some human-like, others far from it, varying in size and appearance. The fallen became increasingly numerous as he came closer to the tower. Their broken forms littered the ground around the structure's base as he neared the doorless vaulted entrance. He could see stairs that began a winding spiral upward as he stepped into the opening. After a pause, he started his climb. The spiral staircase tormented Aurelion with a seemingly infinite distance similar to his walk across the plain. The mysterious urge tugged at him, and he continued upwards. The satyr became aware of creatures circling the tower as he made his way to the top, their forms visible through its glassless windows. Shadowfowl swirled around the building, shrieking and calling as they flew. Aurelion did not stop, sensing that the apex of this structure was within reach.

The satyr reached a landing, and stood gaping as he looked around. The top of the tower was open, in ruin as though something had torn off its roof long ago. The shadowfowl continued to circle here, but made no deviation from their paths as he stepped into the remains of what appeared to be an old throne room. Their were more corpses here which seemed more fresh as kills, with black blood oozing across the stones. Aurelion then noticed that a throne sat at the edge of the disheveled room, and it was occupied. A human slouched in the tall chair, one leg hooked on an arm. The man's head rested on his gloved fist against the other arm. A dull, disillusioned visage stared at the satyr and he became increasingly familiar as Aurelion approached. Here sat Hesperus, still in his armor. His skin bore scars, even the burns of dragon's fire, yet he still looked quite capable. Here he held court alone, his determination and cunning obviously earning him a place to rule, even somewhere as hopeless as the void.

Hesperus' face pulled into a sour smirk. "Come to challenge me for my pointless throne, satyr? Hell, you can have it if you can take me down. No wealth, no power... no women. I'll fight you just on principle, because... well, it's mine!"
The satyr stepped forward and replied, "Good King Hesperus, it is I, Aurelion."
Hesperus gave him a more interested glance. "Oh, hey... sorry, friend. I've gotten used to everyone in this hell trying to prove themselves."
"Even in the void, you have the ambition to rule. Orlandia could actually benefit from your passion."
The king humphed in disgust, "Those people can rot for all I care. They have their ruler now. I tried to help the people... tried to warn them. I ended up here for all my trouble. Even my own son turned against me!"
"Hesperus, I believe your son can be saved. The Demonlord's corruption is powerful, but I still sense the good in him. The people still believe they can defeat the Emperor. As we speak, the people are united as a great army and prepare to march back into the main city". The king looked into the middle distance, not wanting to listen, but the satyr continued. "There is a prophecy that speaks of a king's return, and that king shall defeat the Emperor. I believe you are that king!". Hesperus looked at him again, new interest igniting in the man's eyes. "My friends are gathering sacred relics that will bring forth something called Khaz'Radan."
"I have heard of Khaz'Radan," the king said, sitting up and leaning forward. "There have been whispers in the wind here... voices that spoke of a weapon which was crafted at the time that Van and Nifl were forged... created from the same magick and steel... made and kept a secret, as a foil to the two swords should they fail the people of Orlandia, or fall into the wrong hands. They also said Khaz'Radan coud tear the veil between earth and the void. Oh what I could do with that power..."
"My friends shall find it, good king. Soon you shall be able to return to the realm."
"Yeah," the king frowned, "and return to a realm where my son hates me, and Raine is gone."
Aurelion felt a warmth in his arm and raised it, looking at the markings as the blessing illuminated. A thought sparked within his mind, and he found himself saying something that someone else wanted to say, "Hesperus... not all things are as they seem". The king looked at Aurelion curiously, then with amazement as the light of the markings flared. The satyr quickly found himself engulfed in phoenix flames, their heat being intense yet causing no pain. He managed a smile and said, "Soon, King Hesperus... be ready". With a brilliant flash, the satyr vanished.

A sound of shattering occurred to Aurelion, and he felt himself falling. The satyr tumbled through the frame of a tall standing mirror. He landed on the ground, a deep gasp pulling air into his lungs as though he had been submerged in water and denied the chance to surface. His skin was pale and he shivered, his body feeling as cold as the Bitterwind mountains. He was aware of someone rushing to him as a warm and concerned hand touched his arm. He came to notice lines drawn in the ground around him, forming a summoning circle with burning candles at various stations. Shards of a broken mirror surrounded him. He looked up to see D'vorrah kneeling over him, speaking in a calming tone and urging him to breathe deeply as she pulled a blanket over his form. From what he could tell, they seemed to be in a clearing within a forest. Another presence entered his knowing, and its familiar heat centered his thoughts. The phoenix stood nearby, its plumage blazing as its voice spoke within his mind. "Welcome back, Aurelion Kellkallen. It took much effort, but because of the blessing I placed upon you, the Seer and I were able to bring you back from the void. Unfortunately, you have been touched by the shadow realm. Although you will continue to bear the markings, my power can no longer help you. Take great care, satyr. You quest is nearly at an end, and the dangers are just as perilous. Good luck to you and your friends". The great bird alighted, its brilliant form climbing into the night sky.

Aurelion spent two days at the Seer's cottage recovering from his time in the void. His energy quickly returned, and he was up and moving when Dandel arrived on his steed, Poppet in tow along with him. The halfling was relieved to see his friend again. After a hearty breakfast, Aurelion and Dandel departed for Hedgenbury. They arrived to find the Anarch army on the move, ready for their march into the main city. The satyr rode alongside the ranks until he found Hedstrum riding on his mount with a war banner fastened to his back, the waving cloth bearing the "A" glyph that had become the icon of the defiant Anarchs. Aurelion pulled up to the orc's side and nodded as he spoke, "Greetings, General. You have made a fine army of these people."
"You have reminded them that Orlandia is worth fighting for, my friend. I heard that we almost lost you."
"I almost lost myself... but I could not rest until this land was free. Death will have to wait."
The Orcish general laughed, "Trust me... it will. Now what of your quest?"
"Only the Fang of the Earth Dragon remains. I shall ride to Harrowing Point immediately. I may need a detachment of soldiers for this one."
"By all means, satyr. I shall select a complement of troops". The two clasped arms before the Orcish general began shouting orders.

Aurelion halted his horse and watched the Anarch army march down the road. He was proud to see Orlandia's people rallied, and humbled that so many had gathered to this cause, some paying a serious price. The satyr thought of how far he had come, and these good people along with him. For a moment, his thoughts darkened as it was likely that he would never see the Wyldewood again. To remain in Orlandia for the rest of his days was easily enough of a consolation, but he couldn't help feeling that there were people and good times that he would miss. He took a deep breath and smiled, knowing that it was worth all that he had risked to know Orlandia would be free of the Yaoguai Emperor. Of the Sacred Ten, only one relic still needed to be recovered. He knew that the shadowfowl would most likely be waiting for them when he and his soldiers arrived at Harrowing Point. The satyr also realized that he could no longer rely on the blessing of the phoenix to defeat the vile creatures. As several riders trotted toward his spot on the hill with an impressive group of infantry, he felt he no longer needed the magick of the ancient bird. With hope, and the determination of Orlandia's people, Khaz'Radan and the liberation of this great kingdom was close at hand.

Fin