Chris Evans - A Darkness Forged in Fire

The voice cut through the raised voices and for a moment everything was calm. It had been ten years since he heard that voice.

He turned to face Chayii Red Owl of the Long Watch. A squirrel perched nonchalantly on her shoulder, its fur smoking slightly.

"He was looking out for me, Mother," Konowa replied, his head swimming with emotion. "Without it, we'd all be dead."

Chayii walked up to him, stopping just outside the ring of frost. She traded a look of recognition with Rallie and then turned to him. "And with it, what are you then, my son? Long has it been since I saw you, and I would hold you to my chest as a mother would her child, yet you would burn me with Her poison." Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked upon him. She cocked her head to one side and then looked directly at Visyna. "And you. You are a weaver of the stuff of life. I feel it as I feel the land here cry out in its pain. Why did you allow this to happen?"

Visyna's mouth opened and closed several times. Konowa felt a throbbing at his temples.

"The Star must remain with its people here in Elfkyna," Visyna said at last. "It must be left here, where it was planted. This is where it is meant to be, to cleanse this land and destroy Her foul craft."

Chayii nodded at Visyna. "The witch is right."

"No, she is not!" shouted Prince Tykkin, banging his fist against his scabbard. "The Star will go to Calahr. I want that sapling dug up at once. Regiment! Ready arms!"

Bayonets leveled, their points glittering with frost in the predawn light. Elven archers notched arrows. Cold surged through Konowa.

"M-major…"

Konowa turned. He was amazed to see the dwarf, Corporal Arkhorn, making his way over the battlefield with several members of his patrol, carrying a wounded soldier. They had survived!

When they got closer Konowa saw that it was the young private who had flogged Kritton. Alwyn, that was his name, Alwyn Renwar. It mattered to Konowa that he remembered his name, especially when he saw that the young man was missing a leg, the stump wrapped in leaves and moss. Worse, however, was the shadow that cloaked him, marking him both human and shade.

"It's good to see you again," Konowa said. He paused before he went on. "What happened to the others? Private Kritton?"

Corporal Arkhorn shook his head. "Dead, or some version of it. Except Kritton. He ran off and we haven't seen him since."

Konowa wasn't sure what to think about that. Kritton was many things, but a coward?

"He'll be caught, punished, and shot," the Prince said, waving his hands in the air. "All of you will do well to remember that."

For answer, the dwarf gently laid Alwyn on the ground with the help of his patrol, then stood up and looked past them to the edge of the trees. The shades of Iron Elves stood arrayed in a line, their two-handed swords held in front of them. Behind them sat a dark figure on a horse, the shade's halberd ablaze in black flame.

"Lorian," Konowa said. The pain was too much. He felt his head spinning.

"The Star can break the oath, Major," Alwyn said, grimacing with each word. Konowa took a deep breath and looked at him. "It can break it for all of us."

"To use the power of the Star in that way now when it is still young would be too damaging to it. You know the danger in that. It would be like Her silver Wolf Oak only a thousandfold more terrible," Chayii said, pointing at the sarka har around them. "It must remain here to fight this. We will need its power." She looked down at Alwyn, a sad smile on her face. "I am sorry, Alwyn of the Empire, but the land's need is greater."

"This is preposterous!" Prince Tykkin said. "Major, I remind you of your duty. The only need that matters here is that of the Queen, who, may I add, would be most appreciative to have the Star. You would be a wealthy elf."

Konowa tried to imagine piles of gold and silver. He shook his head.

The Prince drew his sword. The metal was dull and gray and no black flame or frost marred it. "The Star is mine and I claim it now. Color Sergeant! Bring me that tree!"

Sergeant Aguom's eyes went wide, but he stepped forward anyway, slowly walking toward the sapling. Jir padded silently to stand beside the tree, his tail swishing menacingly. Konowa looked around him. He saw Private Vulhber, his towering frame easily recognizable among the soldiers. He wasn't looking at Konowa, or the Prince, but up into the night sky, as were all the Iron Elves.

Konowa felt a cold gaze on his neck and turned back to see Lorian and Zwindarra staring at him. He saw Meri, too, and elves he had known and thought lost forever. This was his chance to set them free, the dead and the living.

"Wait," Konowa said.

Sergeant Aguom let out a sigh and halted, still several feet away from the tree. The Prince looked as if he was about to step forward, but Konowa stopped him with a look.

It felt as if a mountain was pressing down on Konowa. He felt all of their stares, knew all of their desires, and knew that whatever he chose, many would hate him for it. He found himself drifting back to his banishment in the forest, before he'd found Jir.

In his entire life he had never felt so utterly alone.

He sensed the rising of the sun behind him and knew it was time. There was only one real choice.

Thoughts of his time in the birthing meadow came back to him. He saw the Shadow Monarch there, cradling the silver Wolf Oak, desperate to save it. He understood the desire and he understood why he could never give in to it.

"The Star must stay here where it belongs."

The first ray of sunlight stretched over the horizon and infused the sapling's leaves with a warm, pulsing light. The Star in the sky faded and disappeared even as the tree began to glow, its leaves flashing like a thousand shooting stars.

Then the tree burst into flame.

Something tugged at the Viceroy's mind. He slowed the horse to a canter, trying to make sense of the feeling. A scream all too familiar to him tore through his head, sending him reeling. The horse reared and screamed as well, gnashing its teeth at nothing until they splintered, and still the scream did not end.

The table! Its pain was beyond measure. This was nothing like the fire of before. Worse, he was not there to protect it. Thoughts of vengeance and the star fled his mind as the screams grew in intensity. He fought to control the horse and managed to turn it around, digging his spurs deep into its sides, and galloped back toward the palace.

Fear and agony lent speed to the horse. The miles merged as all sense of time blurred into nothingness. He rode with screams echoing in his mind until he screamed, too, the pain as real as if it were his own. He rode with complete abandon, his hands clenched so tightly around the reins that the leather melded into his new flesh. The horse beneath him never tired, its gait as manic as the look in its eyes. The ground rushed past, the horse moving much faster than any horse the Viceroy had ever ridden, the animal's speed a raging hunger that ate the miles with savage appetite; yet it was not fast enough.

It was the smell that first assaulted his senses as the Viceroy pulled up in the rear courtyard of his palace, a thick, dry smell that overpowered the wet stench of the horse beneath him. He ripped his hands from the reins, barely feeling the sting of raw flesh exposed, and ran into the palace, climbing the steps to his bedroom four at a time.

He entered his bedchamber and saw the shattered door. He crossed to it and stepped through, his limbs shaking with fear and rage. He took two steps into the room and stopped, the horror of what he found too great to allow him to approach any closer.

Her creation, Her Emissary's ryk faur, his power…was now but a single-leg upturned with a white doily draped over the clawed foot. Resting on top was a small potted fern. A rustle of wings at the window made him turn, and he saw the white bird.