Paul Kemp - Shadowrealm

Presently, Endren was shouting orders, getting the group ready to move, not for a death charge across the Stonebridge, but for a gallop to safety.

"I knew you would save us," a women called to Abelar.

"It was not me," Abelar said, "but these men."

"Regg and the company?" Cale asked.

The words squelched Abelar's joy. He nodded at the Shadowstorm. "Within the storm."

Endren, atop Swiftdawn with Elden, led Firstlight by the reins to Abelar.

"It seems the Corrinthals owe you yet another debt," he said to Cale and Riven. "My thanks."

Cale inclined his head. "You should get them across the bridge and keep moving." He looked back at the storm. "This is far from over."

"Aye," Endren said.

"If there is anything I can do for Regg and your company, I will do it," Cale said to Abelar. "But Kesson Rel is our first priority."

Cale's words stuck with Abelar. Your company. They were his company.

Endren held out Firstlight's reins for Abelar. "Abelar."

Abelar looked at them, looked up at his father, at his son, and did not take the reins.

Endren read his eyes. He let the reins fall from his hand. "You aren't coming."

Elden looked down, alarm on his face. "No. Papa coming."

Abelar looked back at Cale, Riven, and the Shadovar. "Can you take me with you? To my company?"

The shadows around Cale swirled. He shook his head. "Our fight is with Kesson Rel. You don't want to accompany us there, Abelar. But…"

"But?" Abelar prompted.

"Papa," Elden said.

"I can provide you with a mount to take you."

"I have a mount," Abelar said. "And no horse runs like her. But even that is too slow."

"I mean a different kind of mount, one that doesn't run at all."

Abelar looked a question at him and Cale said, "Get everyone out of here, first."

"Time is short," Rivalen said. "We must locate Kesson Rel."'

"We know time is short, Shadovar," Cale snapped.

Elden's voice pulled Abelar around. "Papa?"

Abelar turned, his heart in his mouth, and lifted his son from Swiftdawn. The boy looked wet, vulnerable. Abelar placed him on the ground, kneeled down, pressed his brow to Elden's.

"Papa is going to find Uncle Regg. You go with Grandpapa now. Everything's all right. Do you understand?"

Elden nodded and smiled uncertainly. "Uncle Regg lost?"

Abelar smiled. "Yes, he's lost."

Elden's face twisted as he processed the reply. "Uncle Regg sad, then."

Abelar's resolve almost crumbled. Tears fell. "Yes, he is sad. As is Papa."

"Why?" Elden said, and took his hand.

Abelar tried to give his thoughts words. "Because Papa has not lived up to his view of himself."

Elden frowned. He didn't understand. "My still want you to come with us, Papa."

"I know, but Uncle Regg needs me."

He wanted to tell Elden that he was who he was, that he had to live with himself and that he could not be the father or man he thought himself to be if he didn't stand and fight. He had tried to stand idle but he couldn't.

Elden cleared his throat and eyed him with a bright, clear gaze. "You good man, Papa."

Perhaps he understood, after all.

Abelar cried, took his son in his arms. "I love you, Elden."

"My loves you, Papa."

Abelar stood, lifted and held his son, reluctant to let go.

Endren hopped down from Swiftdawn, hugged them both, thumped Abelar's back, sniffed back tears.

Abelar handed him Endren. "Go now. Now."

Endren and Elden mounted.

"We will see you when you return," Endren said.

Abelar nodded. "Hurry. The storm is almost upon you."

"Bye, Papa," Elden said, and smiled. "Find Uncle Regg."

Abelar touched his son's hand, could not speak.

He kept his composure as the group of refugees rode off. The Saerbians thanked him and Cale and Riven as they passed.

"Bless you. Bless you all. Lathander watch you all."

Endren led the refugees at a gallop and soon they were nearly lost to the night.

"A good end for them," Abelar said. "You both have my thanks."

"Don't thank us yet," Cale said.

Riven spit. "Ends aren't likely to be good for everyone."

Abelar stepped close to Rivalen Tanthul, reached through his shroud of shadows, and took him by the cloak.

"Look at them, Shadovar," he said, and nodded at the refugees. "Those are the women and children you would have murdered."

The shadows cloaking Rivalen coiled around Abelar's hand and forearm. The Shadovar looked into Abelar's face, eyes hard, took him by the wrist-

Cale and Riven had blades free and pointed at Rivalen's chest.

"Easy," Cale said, shadows leaking from his black blade, from his pale flesh.

Rivalen forcibly removed Abelar's hand from his cloak. The strength in the Shadovar's grip might have cracked bone had Abelar's mail not protected him.

"I would have looked each of them in the eye and killed them myself should it have been necessary to ensure a weapon against Kesson Rel," Rivalen said.

"You disgust me," Abelar said.

Riven kept his blades leveled at Rivalen's chest. "The prince here doesn't think like you, Abelar. He thinks it's all for nothing, so worrying over anything is pointless."

"You saw Ephyras," Rivalen said to Riven, and Riven said nothing.

Abelar stared into the darkness of Rivalen's face. He knew the Shadovar prince was beyond him. He didn't care.

"You are empty, Shadovar. All that power, yet you remain a hole."

Rivalen's golden eyes flared. A long moment passed. "Your regard is of no moment to me, Saerbian."

Abelar's arm twitched but he restrained the desire to punch Rivalen in the face. He turned to Cale. "You spoke of a mount?"

"It is a creature of shadow. Does that deter you?"

Abelar thought of Regg and his company assailed in the storm. "No. I have seen light even in shadow."

Cale nodded, moved away from Riven and Rivalen. He stood in the grass, drenched in rain, shrouded in shadows, lit by lighting, with the Shadowstorm at his back. He drew the darkness around him, let it expand outward until it covered all four men then a swath of the plains as wide as a spear cast. They stood in a black fog.

"Furlinastis," Cale called into the shadows.

Time passed and Abelar realized he was holding his breath. He heard only the hiss of the rain and the drum of thunder.

"Furlinastis," Cale called again, louder.

A pungent organic stink filled Abelar's nostrils, faint at first, but then stronger, the smell reminiscent of mud, of life, death, decay. A reptilian hiss sounded in the blackness. Movement stirred the shadows. Abelar had the impression of an immense form moving in the darkness but he could see nothing. He leaned forward…

A dragon materialized out of the darkness, its body a mountain of black scales and muscle. The scales shimmered a faint purple around the edges when the wyrm moved. The vertical slit of its reptilian eyes fixed on Cale, Riven, Rivalen, and Abelar. It spread its wings and they blotted out the sky, sheltering them all from the rain.

Abelar met and held the dragon's gaze, though the power and age implied by the dragon's form made him feel tiny.

Its tail slid over the plains behind it, knocking over trees. Its claws, each as long as a short sword, sank deeply into the earth. It oozed toward Cale, silent despite its size. Shadows hung from its form, swirled, blurred its borders.

The dragon's voice was soft, sibilant. "I have heard and answered, First of Five."

Cale inclined his head. "My thanks, Furlinastis. You have kept your promise."

Streams of shadow leaked from the dragon's nostrils.

Cale pointed at the black wall of the Shadowstorm. "Kesson Rel's forces stalk the darkness of that storm."

The dragon hissed at the mention of Kesson Rel.