A Heroes Legacy

“We should stop talking about racial segregation and discrimination, doing so only perpetuates the problem. Just let it be and do not think about it, just let it fade away.”

-A Priest’s View by Eopp Thinder, Preist of The Five, Sect of Antōre

“Justice is funny notion isn’t it? To begin with, whose ‘justice’ are we talking about? It always changes depending on who is seeking it. I have always found it amusing how people demand ‘justice’. Like when a stupid child gets mauled by a wolf as he is walking in the woods and its parents demand ‘justice’ and the wolf be tracked down and slaughtered. Where is the ‘justice’ in that? The wolf was only doing what it does naturally. It was the child's fault for going into the woods, not the wolf for acting like a wolf. If anyone deserves to be punished, it’s the parents for raising an idiot child. I also find such sayings like: ‘those who seek ‘justice’ are the greatest at risk of losing sight of it,’ foolish. People who are after ‘justice’ are always held back by the fear of killing and being prosecuted as well. They want ‘justice’ but won’t do everything necessary to get it. There is a reason the statue of Justice is wearing a blindfold, holding unbalanced scales and wielding a sword. Justice is blind. Justice is not fair. Justice is brutal and will not hesitate to kill.”

-Scribbled on paper found in a prison cell.

Year 3633, the Sixth Age, the seventh day of Spring

It was a beautiful Spring morning, a light dew had fallen the previous night and the grass was still wet underfoot. The air was fresh and filled with the scents of many blooming flowers, but it also held a gentle crispness to it as if Winter was still desperately clinging onto the lands. A cool breeze blew down from the north causing the large white clouds to drift across the pale morning sky and sending a shiver down Fairris’s spine. It was still cool now, but when Inüer decided to bring the coming day His golden rays would soon warm up the air.

The Grey Company had made good time coming from Lancer and passed Port Na’brath only a several days previous. It was there that Fairris, Jar’nesh and Ty’far had been obligated to join the march of the Nevāranciens. Although Fairris had been reticent to leave The Port with Lord Varrintine still bringing everything under control after Lord Cardonian was executed and the rift had split open the sky, she still had a duty to the Grey Company. Lord Varrintine was quite aware of that and he had bid that she go with the Nevāranciens and thanked her and her companions for all their aid. Fairris’s departure had been quicker then she would have liked and she had promised herself that she would return once the business in Sparren had been dealt with.

Fairris looked to the great rift in the sky and she shivered again, its outer edges were glowing a pale green and its depths were of utter darkness, and it seemed to her that it was getting bigger with each passing day. Even more strangely it seemed as if the clouds avoided the sky around the rift, either that or they were being devoured by it. Could this tear in the heavens truly foretell the ending of the world? The priests of The Five had proclaimed as such, as did many who were not religious. Panic had almost crippled the realms, which was another reason she felt bad about leaving Lord Varrintine, but there was little she could do.

The monsters that had spewed forth from the chasm in the sky had also created much panic and destruction. The dragons had caused the most terror even though they had caused the least deaths, just the thought that those great and terrible worms had returned to the world kept many people awake at night in fear.

The other beasts that had come from the rift had been causing much trouble on the roads and towns throughout the realms and the Grey Company had come across quite a few on their journey to the south. Although it did seem that the Dun Kār no longer attacked travelers or towns. Apparently something had happened in Krnōrel to end the fighting between the humans and Elder Races, though Fairris had heard very little about those events.

“Nice one Grendüil,” a warrior congratulated, dragging Fairris’s attention back to the reason she was awake so much earlier then usual.

The tall Lithinüer, Grendüil, was attempting to pass the trial to become a member of the Grey Company. He was doing well, better then Fairris had done, and had just defeated his third of five opponents. All the warriors were gathered at the side of the West March road just north of Wyzmir and stood in a wide circle to watch Grendüil undertake his trial.

The defeated warrior let out a laugh and shook his head as the Lithinüer helped the Nevārancien to his feet. The warrior slapped Grendüil on the shoulder before he returned to the circle as the Lithinüer did a few stretches and moved his long sword through some simple movements to keep his muscles loose. It had been a long trial so far but Grendüil still seemed energetic and eager to meet his next challenger.

“Fay’dell,” the High King Gar’lin shouted irritably, “You are the next opponent.”

A slight murmur of surprise moved through the gathered warriors, Fay’dell was one of the best and Fairris had learnt that she had won a title in the Arena games back in Nevārance.  

Grendüil did not seem concerned with the new challenger though and he readied himself for the duel, as did Fay’dell. Then once again the sound of metal clashing erupted into the morning. Fay’dell was very good, perhaps even better then her reputation would suggest, but Grendüil was up to the task.

“He is good,” Ty’far remarked, “He will complete this trial easily.”

“Fay’dell looks more skilled,” Fairris shrugged.

“But she will take a fall for him,” Jar’nesh said quietly, “Those two have a thing going on.”

“Really?” Fairris exclaimed softly.

“I wouldn’t mind having a thing with him either,” Ty’far giggled, “He is very handsome, and look at that body.”

Fairris smiled and turned her attention back to the duel, Grendüil did have a good physique which was on show to all for he had taken of his shirt after the first fight.

The Lithinüer’s white hair flew wildly as he spun away from the thrust of Fay’dell. As soon as he moved beyond reach he darted back in, his rippling muscles snapping quickly and powerfully, forcing Fay’dell to retreat as fast as she could.

But Fairris could see that Fay’dell had misjudged her distance with Grendüil, whether on purpose or not Fairris could not tell, but she could see that the Nevārancien could not get away fast enough and she suffered many slaps from Grendüil’s blade. 

“Fatal strike,” Fay’dell called out and she stopped her retreat and sheathed her sword, giving a slight nod to the Lithinüer.

“One more, come on Grendüil,” called out one warrior excitedly, “You will be coming into my squad when you are done. You got this.”

More excited cheers erupted around the gathered Wyner, if Grendüil defeated his next opponent he would be the first non-Nevārancien since Fairris to be admitted into the Grey Company.

Grendüil smiled wide and his ego clearly grew from the support from the Nevāranciens.

“I am ready,” the Lithinüer said loudly and held his arms out wide, “Who will be my final challenge?”

No one stepped forward and the cheers increased, and Fairris joined in with her companions as they clapped. Fairris thought it would be a good thing to have another non-Nevārancien amidst the Grey Company, apart from the fact that Grendüil was another elf, his admittance would take the scrutiny away from her action within the Grey Company. It would also promote the mixing between the warriors and those of the Elder Races, which in Fairris’s eyes was a good thing.

“Silence,” Gar’lin yelled above the cheering and Fairris could see that the High King did not share her opinion. “I will be your final challenger.”

A shocked murmur drifted through the warriors, and they glanced about in confusion and worry.

“But you are to be my leader,” Grendüil said in surprise and bowed his head respectfully, “I would not dare raise a blade against you.”

“Are you a coward?” Gar’lin asked in reply, his face marked with anger.

“No,” the Lithinüer was quick to reply, but he stepped back as Gar’lin approached.

“Then take up your stance then,” the High King snapped and drew his magnificent sword.

Grendüil glanced to the crowd for support, but all were as confused as he was, so reluctantly the Lithinüer readied himself for the fight.

“Should we do something?” Fairris asked with concern as the two began their duel.

“What can we do?” Jar’nesh asked back with a shrug.

“So if Grendüil wins, will he have a better right to High King?” Ty’far asked in confusion.

“No,” Jar’nesh shook her head, “This is not a fight to the death, it is only a display of skill.”

A surprised cry of pain grabbed Fairris attention and she saw Grendüil quick retreat with a bright red line of blood across the pale skin of his chest. Gar’lin quickly pursued the Lithinüer with a skillful and calculated assault, but Grendüil fought back angrily. Curiously Fairris felt a slight tingle on the back of her neck and the hairs of her arms began to stand up. At the same time Grendüil seemed to get the upper hand with his duel.

“Magicks?” Fairris mumbled to herself.

But it could not have been Grendüil casting for she knew that he could no longer connect to the magicks of the Fog, so Fairris looked away from the fight and about the gathered crowd. She could see a few other elves amid the warriors, but none seemed to be concentrating on casting. A small Valenthōr who had her long ears grotesquely cut short grabbed her attention, at the back of the group she was watching the fight but seemed to be concentrating very hard on the situation, and her eyes were unblinking. Just then the warrior beside the elf caught Fairris’s attention and she quickly turned away and sucked in a breath. After a few deep breaths she peered over her shoulder again and looked in confusion as Kil’dar stood beside the Valenthōr and who whispered a few words into her ear.

The magicks seemed virtually electric in the air to Fairris’s sensitivity, but no one else seemed to notice it. Although everyone could see the results, as Grendüil now had Gar’lin retreating and the slap of the Lithinüer’s blade hit the High King on the inside of his thigh.

Ger’lin roared in anger and humiliation as he jumped back from the fight. Such a strike on the inside of Gar’lin’s leg would have severed the femoral artery and defeated any opponent. Knowing this Grendüil stopped his attack and stepped back from the High King thinking the duel was over and that he had won. But as soon as he disengaged Gar’lin darted back in, this time the edge of his sword burning a bright green. The Lithinüer was on the back foot and retreating quickly but Gar’lin pursued him fiercely. As Gar’lin’s blade suddenly connected with Grendüil’s the Lithinüer’s longsword burst into thousands of shards and he stumbled back a few steps clutching at his shaking hand. But Gar’lin had not finished and he drove the tip of his sword through Grendüil’s throat as he yelled in the elf’s face.

A deadly quiet fell over the crowd as Grendüil slumped to his knees, his hands grabbing frightfully at his neck. The Lithinüer’s blood continued to pour out of the wound and down his pale skinned chest and soon his struggles ceased and his arms fell limp at his side. Unceremoniously Gar’lin yanked his sword from Grendüil’s neck and the elf fell forward onto the grass.

All gathered continued to stare in stunned silence as the High King cleaned his blade on the grass and the remainder of Grendüil’s blood seeped into the earth. The wind picked up and moaned passed Fairris’s ears as she looked in horror at what had just happened.

“Dishonorable coward,” someone yelled from the gathered warriors, breaking the still silence.

“Who said that?” Gar’lin screamed as he wheeled about, his eyes manically darting around the group. “Step forward.”

No one moved and many glanced about wondering who had spoken up.

“Your King demands that you step forward,” Gar’lin yelled as he moved about the perimeter of the circle. “Or are you the coward who is too afraid to face me in battle and hides in the shadows shouting insults at better men. Who has more honour I wonder?”

Still no one stepped forward and Gar’lin smirked and sheathed his sword before pushing his way through the crowd.

“I can’t believe he killed him. The coward,” Ty’far exclaimed angrily as those gathered began to filter away and a few moved to cremate Grendüil.

“Gar’lin is no longer the leader everyone wants,” Jar’nesh nodded, “May Death spit on him. Grenduil had won fairly. If Gar’lin did not wan to risk losing he should never have entered the duel. He will be defeated one day, hopefully soon.”

Ty’far scoffed at that, “He has one of Brothers swords. That was how Gar’lin shattered Grendüil’s blade. No one will be able to defeat him so long as he holds that weapon.”

“But did you see Grendüil fight?” Jar’nesh said with amazement, “He was incredible.”

“I didn’t think he was that skilled,” Ty’far agreed with a nod.

“Someone was casting magicks upon him,” Fairris remarked, causing her friends to look at her curiously. “I could feel the tingling in the air during the time Grendüil was winning.”

“So what are you saying?” Jar’nesh looked quizzical, “Someone was enhancing Grendüil’s abilities in hope that he would win?”

Fairris nodded, “It would seem so.”

“But who would do that?” Ty’far screwed up her face in confusion, “It was just supposed to be a trial to be admitted into the Grey Company. I mean, why would Gar’lin try and stop that? And why would someone try and make it so Gar’lin was defeated?”

Jar’nesh shrugged and shook her head.

“Kil’dar perhaps?” Fairris remarked hesitantly.

Both Ty’far and Jar’nesh looked at her in surprise.

“Why would he?” Jar’nesh shook her head after she gathered her composure.

“Why would anyone?” Fairris replied, deciding not to tell her friends what she had seen.

“It could have been Kil’dar,” Ty’far remarked thoughtfully, “He is known for his ambition.”

“But he would challenge the King in the traditional manner,” Jar’nesh was quick to say, “Kil’dar has honour, unlike Gar’lin.”

“Every time we mention Kil’dar I can’t help but remember when he interrupted our bath in Pentra,” Ty’far giggled, “He can be so menacing.”

“Not to mention dangerous,” Jar’nesh smiled back, “So maybe it was Kil’dar.”

The conversation died away then and too soon it was time to pack camp and once again head off to the south. By the time the Grey Company was on the march Inüer had just risen above the eastern horizon and Fairris was jogging easily along side her friends as the town of Wyzmir appeared ahead of them.

It was a scattered and chaotic town built of stone and timber, with a low brick wall running around the inner most of the township, leaving the residences to build haphazardly along the bank of the river Nagra. It was the kind of place that always seemed to have muddy roads, smell of refuse and have a constant cloud of smoke above it. Wyzmir was one of the largest towns within the region of Sesserrech and its Lord was known to be filled with greed and self loathing. Such greed was a disease and it had seeped its way into every aspect of the town where it had festered and grown and was now a swollen cesspit filled with gluttony, corruption, hate and loathing. And much of that hate and loathing was directed at the town of Horbin which was situated along the southern banks of the Nagra river. But Horbin was more inland compared to Wyzmir and was within the borders of Norrendōrel.

The two towns operated the ferry system that ran up and down the wide river delta and out towards the islands Car’rek. Even though there was an agreement between the Lords of the towns over the shared ferry system there were also many disputes. Often ferries would intentionally sink other ones from the opposite town over such disputes. And even on occasion in the past there had been all out war on the waters of the Nagra.

The Grey Company saw little of that side of Wyzmir though, and they made a direct path as possible through the twisting streets to the ferry that would take them upstream to Horbin.

The Grey Company did however suffer an excessive fee for hiring so many ferries, but they had accumulated much wealth during their time killing fiends over the past years. In all, they had to hire all the ferries to transport all the warriors to the Horbin docks, and Fairris and her companions were on the last of them.

The mood among the warriors had been dark since the morning’s horror and Fairris heard much muttering between them as she walked the length of the boat to join Jar’nesh and Ty’far at the back of the ferry’s second level.

“This is all they had,” Fairris remarked as she joined her friends and handed them each a dried fish in paper.

Ty’far sniffed at the fish and pulled a disgusted face, and Jar’nesh tentatively took a bite.

“It’s actually not bad,” Jar’nesh remarked to Ty’far, “A bit salty though.”

Ty’far hesitantly took a small bite of the fish and quickly spat it back out. Jar’nesh burst out laughing as she tossed her fish over the side of the boat.

“I hate you,” Ty’far glared at her friend before tossing her fish over the side as well.

“Did you eat yours, Fairris?” Jar’nesh pulled an ugly face.

Fairris shook her head and smiled, “I didn’t even buy one. I know how bad they are.”

“You set us up to eat that filth?” Ty’far exclaimed and a wide smile spread across Fairris face.

“I hate you too,” Ty’far huffed causing both Fairris and Jar’nesh to laugh.

“I pray I am not interrupting?” came a voice from behind them.

Fairris’s eyes widened in shock as Kil’dar stood before them, and by his side was the Valenthōr with the chopped ears.

“Commander,” Jar’nesh said in surprise as she stood at attention with Ty’far and Fairris.

“At ease,” Kil’dar waved at them casually and looked to the sky thoughtfully.

“I would have thought you went on the first ferry with the High King,” Ty’far remarked as she relaxed and leand against the railing.

Kil’dar smirked and continued to look at the clouds roll across the sky.

“Do you wish something of us Commander?” Jar’nesh asked tentively.

“I already have,” Kil’dar replied calmly, “If you recall. Back in Pentra I asked that a certain Lord in Port Na’brath be disposed of, else cause the dead to come back to life.”

Now he regarded each of them slowly and seriously, his expression unnervingly blank.

But there was something else in Kil’dar’s eyes that Fairris saw, or rather did not see. He seemed to not recognise her, which seemed absurd considering the history that they had shared.

Ty’far and Jar’nesh glanced nervously between themselves and to Fairris, but did not reply.

“Varrintine lives and Cardonian does not,” Kil’dar continued, “Not exactly a successful mission, wouldn’t you say?”

“The fighting in the city escalated anyway,” Fairris snapped, her old anger towards Kil’dar rekindling, “What does it matter which Lord died?”

For the first time Kil’dar seemed to regard her with a sense of recognition.

“Do I know you Zirarien?” Kil’dar asked curiously, “You seem familiar to me but I cannot place it.”

“No doubt you saw my trial to become a member of the Grey Company,” Fairris shrugged trying to avoid Kil’dar’s question.

“I did, yes,” Kil’dar nodded, “But there is something else.”

A sudden realisation came to Kil’dar features and a thin smile spread across his face.

“Of course, now I remember,” Kil’dar said, “You used to travel in the company of Vythe Varrintine, that dwarf Bārdin, and the Brother Nen’on. I thought I had you executed.”

“I am harder to kill then you think,” Fairris growled back, her anger towards Kil’dar in no way lessened over the years.

“Such anger,” Kil’dar mused, “For what? Doing my job? I sentenced you to die for being a spy, and you somehow lived. There is no need to bare a grudge.”

Fairris’s expression did not change.

“Unless,” Kil’dar raised an eyebrow, “There was something else about our encounter those years ago.”

Kil’dar looked thoughtful for a few second before an even wider smile came to his face.

“So it seems that Lieut’s mental state had changed after all,” Kil’dar said with a nod, “It seems he was not the only one.”

Fairris clenched her jaw and her hands moved slowly towards the hilt of her gunblades. Kil’dar was the reason why Lieut was forced to part company with her those years ago in the Foglornt Forest, the reason why Lieut was lost to her now. She knew that killing Kil’dar would be very satisfying, but wisely she held her temper in check.

“There would be no use taking your anger out on me,” Kil’dar remarked, seeming to read her thoughts, “I just pushed him on his way to do what he was meant to do right from the beginning. And I do feel his loss as keenly as you do. Well perhaps not, but it was a great loss none the less. Nen’on was the perfect soldier and our greatest asset.”

Fairris could not contain her anger any longer and she lunged at Kil’dar her fist balled and flying for his head. But her fist never connected and bounced painfully off a magickal barrier with a bright flash.  Fairris fell back clutching her hand and looked in surprise at Kil’dar. Had he found a way to use magicks? Fairris shook the ridiculous thought from her head and looked to the small Valenthōr, who wore a slight smug on her face. Of course it was not Kil’dar, but rather this elf that had conjured the barrier.

“What a good opportunity to introduce my friend, Nanil,” Kil’dar smiled subtly and motioned towards the Valenthōr. “She is still quite skilled with magicks, as you can see. But please no more fighting, this is not the time for it. I hope you did not hurt yourself, Fairris?”

Fairris wrung her hand and looked cautious at Nanil.

“Good,” Kil’dar said, “Now that we have moved passed all that I can see why Lord Varrintine still lives. But it matters little now, as does the little incident that the three of you were involved in with Cly’strif. Events had moved very quickly and things that were important hold no value now. And if the world is truly ending and we are all consumed by the great ravine in the sky, nothing holds value anymore now does it?”

Kil’dar was once again looking to the sky and towards the rift to the east, and Fairris was wondering if this conversation was going anywhere.

“But we cannot think like that,” Kil’dar said softly, “Or we will all fall into despair and this world will be doomed regardless of whether it was to be or not.”

Kil’dar’s voice trailed away and he looked to the river drifting by them and towards the west.

“If you came to philosophize Kil’dar, I’d rather not hear it,” Fairris said irritably and drawing Kil’dar’s pale grey eyes to hers.

“You would learn something if I did,” Kil’dar replied coldly, “But you are right, this is not the time for philosophical discussions. This is a discussion about ascendance.”

“What?” Ty’far asked in bewilderment.

“That is not the question,” Kil’dar replied, “You should be asking whose? And also, if there is to be ascendance, who is it that will fall? For indeed the two coincide with each other.”

Jar’nesh sighed, “Commander, you came to us for a reason, or at least it seemed that way. Perhaps this conversation will move quicker if you did not speak in riddles.”

“You wish me to speak plainly?” Kil’dar smiled and Jar’nesh nodded, “Very well.”

“It is time for Gar’lin to fall,” Kil’dar said simply, “Is that plain enough for you?”

“That sounds like treason,” Jar’nesh was quick to reply.

“Such treasonous thoughts were too long in their coming,” Kil’dar said, “And ones shared by many.”

“That does not explain why you are talking to us,” Ty’far said cautiously.

“You needed to know,” Kil’dar shrugged, “Fairris saw Nanil amidst her spell casting this morning as we tried to make Grendüil complete his trial. It would not have been needed if Gar’lin had not taken it upon himself to make sure that no other non-Nevārancien would make it into the Grey Company. But alas he did, and we tried to aid Grendüil unsuccessfully, obviously. So, I came to clear up your suspicions Fairris.”

“That’s it?” Fairris asked warily.

“Yes,” Kil’dar replied simply, “Take it as you will. But I wonder, if Gar’lin went to such lengths to make sure no other was to join the Grey Company, what does he think of you, Fairris?”

The question gave Fairris a sudden pause, and she looked to her companions to see that they were thinking the same thing.

“Good day ladies,” Kil’dar remarked with a slight smile as he turned away with Nanil walking beside him.

Fairris turned away from Kil’dar and leaned on the railing of the ferry as she stared into the brown waters of the Nagra. What exactly was Kil’dar saying, if anything? Would the High King try and remove her from the Grey Company’s ranks? If so, how so? Were she and her friends in danger?

Fairris looked to Jar’nesh and Ty’far and she could see that similar thoughts were running around in their minds also.