“Hah!” Somonik chuckled. “If I can still force my old muscles to fly with our spy youngsters, you can still run with yours!”
“You’re right of course. And you’re still as graceful in flight as any youngster, despite the wing, which is astounding, really.”
“Thank you. I’ve gotten used to compensating for it with the power.” Somonik grinned as he came in for a perfect landing.
“Good morning my love.” Kragorram grinned as he came in for an almost dainty landing, back-winging to a hover first and favoring his injury. “You are beautiful in this light. The red ribbon compliments you nicely.
“Thank you, my loving flatterer, but it clashes with me horribly. I have to wear it as punishment.” Povon smiled as they gently nuzzled.
“For what?”
“At the end of the chase yesterday, we were ready to Translocate Mark, Talia, and Holanam into the midst of The Strike Force in case they should be caught by Zarkog’s forces, who would have gotten a good surprise. Yazadril said that we would not interfere with whatever they were doing unless one of them was injured. He re-iterated that when Mark said it was leading to something. But when they were jumping with every second I lost my nerve. I thought if we waited any longer, they would be Translocating so often that it would be unsafe to extract them, as the military types say. I tried to grab them between their jumps, contrary to direct orders, and Somonik restrained me, so to speak. Which I found to be extremely surprising and embarrassing, particularly after First Burgundy intervened.
“Afterward, Yazadril told me to wear a red ribbon. That’s all he said. It’s a mark of shame, even if only he and I knew it till now.”
“You meant well, my love, and he certainly couldn’t have been that upset.” Kragorram consoled as he gently enfolded her with arms, wings and tail.
“Kragorram! You’re speaking normally!” Talia realized.
“Yes. A great circle of Healers put their minds together and came up with a spell that cancels one resonance of my vocal cavity, and eliminates the effort of remembering which sibilants to vocalize. I can’t help but think that I sound more intelligent this way. I even find that I tend to not speak as slowly. And my Draconian has improved even more than my Trade Common.”
“Well I think it sounds nice, though I like the way you sounded before too.”
“Thank you.”
They were soon joined by Yazadril, Nemia, Hilsith, Alilia, Dalia, Bezedil, Holanam, Zayobod, Balen, Senchak, Emeroth, Osbald, King Dren, Wosea, and Mark’s grandparents. They were short two chairs, so Talia sat in Mark’s lap and Wosea simply Levitated, lounging in an invisible chair above the table. The dragons lounged about, and Tithian produced a feast for the humanoids that appeared on the table with a wave of her horn, before she and the other unicorns began grazing on the nearby grass.
The meal was enjoyed with a great deal of discussion of the battles, chases, and revelations of the day before.
As they were finishing, Somonik reported the latest developments. “Zarkog is testing our defenses. A few million of his forces will appear above one of our cities, military bases, or naval shipyards, launch a quick attack, and be gone before we can do much about it. A minute or so later they send a high-altitude observer by for a few seconds to check their results, which are generally negligible.
“Defections continue from both Venak and Serminak. It’s still just a trickle, but the numbers are growing.
“With their Wards down, we’ve been able to send our own observers to learn their dispositions. With the information they’ve gathered, combined with what we’ve learned from the defectors, we have a fairly complete accounting of their numbers, cities, deployments, fortifications, and other assets. We were particularly interested in learning where Zarkog’s Swarms and trolls are, and we now know that.”
“How long do you think it’ll be before they stop probing, and start attacking in earnest?” Mark asked.
“Impossible to say.” Yazadril stated. “We should ask Quewanak that. His knowledge of our opponent may be forty million years out of date, but he still knows Zarkog better than any of us.”
Mark retrieved his small Truthstone from a pocket, and sent his awareness into it. “Eldest?”
Quewanak appeared sitting behind Mark, reaching over to keep a claw-tip in contact with the stone. He instantly updated himself on the conversation from the minds of the participants by doing little more than being interested in the knowledge. “I couldn’t say either. He was never in command of a military force back then, and I don’t know what he’s learned of that discipline since. Based on what I learned of modern military practices from Somonik at the founding, Zarkog appears to be rather conventional in his strategic thinking. Conventional for evil tyrants, that is.
“One thing is certain. Your decision last night to finally undergo my training is the best course you could choose at this time. You do not presently have the ability to defeat Zarkog. I can give you that ability, and in a reasonable amount of time.”
“Really? You think your training will make me able to beat Zarkog?” Mark asked in surprise. “How long would it take?”
“Again, that is impossible to say, as I will be using completely new techniques which I developed in a dream, and I had no reference to real time while I did so. A great deal depends on how much discomfort you and your companions are willing to endure. The greater the realism of the training, the greater it’s effectiveness and the lesser the time that will be required. But participating in a perfectly realistic combat exercise is exactly as unpleasant as participating in actual battle.”
“To beat Zarkog, I’d be willing to endure a great deal of discomfort. For my part, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to be finished as quickly as possible. This little interlude from the war has been nice, but I know people are dying out there as we sit here feasting, though Somonik tries to spare me a bit by glossing over that fact. Every second counts in lives. I feel that we don’t have a moment to waste.”
“I feel the same.” Talia agreed.
“He speaks for us all.” Kragorram nodded, and the other three of The Six nodded as well.
“Excellent.” Quewanak nodded. “Then if you are finished here, we’ll get started. Mark, keep the stone in your hand.”
“All right. Thank you for a wonderful start to the day, Tithian. “ Mark said as he and Talia stood. “Please pass our gratitude along to all who took part. And thanks to all of you for coming to breakfast, it’s always good seeing you.
“We’ll try to get in twelve hours’ training today, then we’ll check in to see how things are going.”
“They will be safe from Zarkog while they are with me.” Quewanak stated assuredly. “No one could find them where we will be.”
“Thank you. I was wondering about that.” Yazadril nodded.
“All right then, my fine students, prepare to Translocate.” Quewanak briskly instructed, eager to get started. “Silaran has the reference, and you’ll follow him, but each of you will take yourselves there. And gather all your power before you do so, it’s a very long jump. And whatever you do, do not try to fly or levitate when you arrive!
“Povon, cast the Link. Now, if we are all ready, let’s go.”
They cast their Translocations, and all except Silaran were surprised that the brief flash of cold that came with it seemed to last noticeably longer than they expected.
“Report on your surroundings.” Quewanak directed as soon as they emerged, but none heeded him right away.
“Great missing gods, what is that smell?!!!” Povon cried, and Silaran actually retched for a moment before Equemev cast a spell on all of them that blocked the horrible odor and the nausea that came with it.
The next thing to be noticed was Mark floating off the ground for a second when he turned a bit. “I don’t fall right here!” he exclaimed in momentary panic as he flailed in the air.
Talia jumped five feet in the air when she tried to step toward him. “We have no weight! Or almost none!”
Povon cast a Movement on each of them, roughly proportional to their weight, and stuck them to the floor. Silaran stumbled a bit as he landed from the slow jump his initial convulsion had caused.
“This is really weird!” Mark stated as he regained his balance. “I think I’d be losing my breakfast without Equemev’s spell, even without the horrible stink!” He watched some dust they’d stirred up ever-so-slowly drifting down, then knelt to take a pinch of sand from the floor, and dropped it from two feet. “Things fall a lot slower than normal here.” he said as he stood.
“We must be near the center of Kellaran, in the very center of the world!” Povon guessed. “Things would fall slower there!”
“No, there’s not enough magic in play here to maintain this cavern against the pressures that exist deep within Kellaran.” Equemev mused as she looked around. “From all the evidence, I’d say we are within one of Kellaran’s moons.”
“Excellent deduction.” The Eldest congratulated. “We are indeed within the stone of Blenda, the largest and most distant of Kellaran’s moons.”
He had no sense of smell as an astral projection, so he experienced it second-hand from Kragorram over the Link Povon was still maintaining.
“Ugh. You’re right, that scent is disgusting. And worrisome.”
Mark looked around and tried to identify the source of the smell. They were in a round cavern shaped like a flattened bubble, perhaps six hundred feet in diameter and a third of that from the floor to the center of the ceiling. In the center of the floor a pink crystal as large as he was protruded from the floor. He’d have assumed it was quartz, were it not glowing brightly in both visible light and in his magic-sensing vision. The rest of the cavern was light gray stone, and the only other color in the place was an area on the far side that had the green of plant life on the floor and up the curve of the wall a bit.
They made their way over there, and saw that there were several varieties of plants, dominated by something that looked somewhat like a fern. As they drew close, they saw that there was a small spring trickling water out of the wall, and it flowed down in a tiny stream to a small pond in a shallow depression. The little watercourse was almost completely hidden by the plants, and only it’s faint sound and occasional reflected glint among the stems revealed it. And in the shallow pool, also hidden from their sight by the plants until they reached the edge of the water, was the source of the smell.
“I take it that that’s your body, Eldest?” Mark asked as he fought to control another wave of nausea.
“I’m afraid it is. I am obviously on the very verge of death, and have been for a very long time.”
His body was little more than skeleton and skin, and his green color had faded to a sickly off-white. He lay half submerged in the water with the tip of his snout just above the surface at the edge of the pond, and bore many horrible wounds. The worst of those was a gash that had cleaved his skull almost in half, and only a thick layer of scab covered his brain where it was exposed.
“I suppose that since I’ve lasted this long, I’ll probably last long enough to get you trained.”
“Crap on that! We can’t afford to lose you, and I won’t give up on any friend’s life until I have to! I’m calling in some Healers, the best we’ve got! You’ll just have to trust them to keep this location secret, the same as you’re trusting us.”
The eldest stared at his physical self for a long moment before he replied. “I am not going to argue. Let Silaran cast their Translocations. Lend him some power if he needs it to do so. The reference location here changes in a constant and complex but predictable manner as Blenda circles Kellaran, making for a very tricky jump, but he has the knack for such things.”
“Hilsith!” Mark called, somewhat frantically.
“Yes?”
“We’re with the Eldest’s body, and he’s near death. He’s really, really in bad shape. Assemble the best Healers we have, and we’ll bring you all here.”
“What is his condition?”
“He’s got about twenty serious wounds that have been slowly putrefying for forty million years. His skull’s all split open, and there’s a big scab on his brain. He’s lying in a pool of water with a bunch of plants. I’m sure he’s too sick to move him, so bring anything and everything you might need.”
“Give us thirty seconds.”
“Povon, be ready to cast the Movement on them when they get here, and Equemev, the anti-smell and nausea spell. Silaran, how much can you Translocate to here?”
“Perhaps one and a half times my own weight.”
“Tithian!”
“Yes Mark?”
Mark reported everything to the unicorn seer in one quick burst of thought.
“Understood. As many of us as necessary will assist Silaran. Don’t worry. If Quewanak can possibly be saved, he will be.”
“Let’s move over by the wall at the far end of the pond to make room for arrivals and their equipment.” Mark said as he briskly strode that way.
They’d reached there and Kragorram and Povon had just curled up together to save room when Hilsith Spoke.
“We’re ready.”
“Hold still a moment after you get here. We’ll have to cast some spells on you to allow you to work in this environment, because things here have very little weight, and there’s a smell that would make you vomit.” Mark told her.
“You deal with the weight issue then, we’ll deal with our own reaction to the smell.”
A moment later forty-two Healers of every race arrived, including three dragons, four Selkies, and a dozen gnomes, along with some fifty containers of every size full of equipment and supplies. Povon immediately cast her weight-replacing Movement on them and their gear as they cast a Link among themselves, then rapidly went to work.
“What magic is in play here?” Hilsith briskly asked the Eldest.
“There’s a stone in my stomach that produces a basic food, and a simple Movement that moves the water from the drain at the bottom of the pond through a small passage to the outlet on the wall there. That’s it. Both are powered by the emanations of the crystal at the center of the cavern, which also heats this airspace.”
Some of the other Healers were draining the water into a giant spherical water droplet to one side, while some supported Quewanak’s body with gentle spells of Movement. The selkies examined his newly exposed underside, and the rest were casting diagnostics, including Hilsith.
“I appreciate your urgency, but after forty million years, is all this rushing around really necessary?” Quewanak asked.
“Yes!” Mark and Hilsith answered simultaneously.
“Ah. And the selkies?”
“They are experts on the conditions that flesh is subject to when immersed in water for extended periods of time.” a gargoyle said without looking away from the wound she was examining.
“Ah.” the Eldest nodded again.
“Look, I’m sure the work that we must do here will be extremely unpleasant for you, and we need our concentration.” Hilsith stated sternly as she glared between Mark and the Eldest. “Isn’t there something else you can be doing? Preferably at the greatest possible distance from our patient?”
“Sorry.” Mark nodded sheepishly. “We’ll be over at the other side of the cavern. Just call us if you need anything.”
But Hilsith had already turned back to her work and gave no sign of having heard.
Mark led his group away, but before they’d gone ten feet Quewanak turned back and spoke with such urgency that Hilsith gave him her full attention.
“Listen! You absolutely must not allow me to regain consciousness! Whether asleep or comatose, induced or natural, it is absolutely critical that my body remains unconscious! I will bring these six youngsters into my dream while I am training them, and if I wake while they are in my dream, we all may lose our minds, if not our lives!”
“Understood. Have no fear, your body will not be waking for at least three days, and likely not for months. You’re closer to death than anything I’ve ever seen that wasn’t actually dead already. We can probably save your life, but you must face the possibility that your body may never wake again.”
“Understood. That is as I expected.”
Hilsith nodded and returned to her task.
“Now then.” Quewanak began as he and his students settled at the far side of the cavern. “Being this close to my body, even as decrepit as it is, I have the power to draw you all into my dream with me. You will cast a timed Sleep spell on yourselves, set to last the twelve hours you have decided to train with me for today, and a timed Awaken to rouse you at the end of that time.
“You will learn by trial and error. Not the easiest way to learn, but the one that offers the most retention. I warn you again, you will not find this to be a pleasant process. You will train as warriors by engaging in war. The war will be simulated, but the simulation will be absolutely lifelike. As each exercise begins, you will be aware that you are dreaming, but you will forget that within a few minutes, and then you will no longer realize that what you are experiencing is a dream. You will believe that what you are experiencing is reality until the end of the exercise. Unless of course you become completely emotionally overwhelmed, in which case you will remember for a few minutes that what is happening around you is only a dream, which should allow you to carry on with the exercise.
“The arena that I will simulate for you is the world of Kellaran itself, complete in every way, with everyone and everything on it reproduced to the limits of my knowledge and awareness, exactly as it is in reality. Since the fall of the Wards around Venak and Serminak, my awareness of the world has become nearly complete. Rather than spend my time since then in delivering to our commanders an exhaustive report on the detail of enemy dispositions, I have instead prepared the training program you are about to experience. When you can win the war and defeat Zarkog in the dream, then you will be ready to do so in reality.
“You have chosen to have me train you as quickly as possible, which means giving you the most difficult and challenging training I can provide. As I said, that will be as traumatizing and as emotionally disturbing as fighting in the most brutal war that has ever been fought on our world. I give all seven of you this one opportunity to reconsider that choice, including Ria.”
Ria manifested, and joined the others in looking at each other to see if any would take the Eldest’s offer, but all seemed equally determined.
“We have no choice.” Mark stated firmly. “Innocents are being killed right now, and we are sworn.”
“So be it.” Quewanak nodded. “I only hope you don’t hate me for it when we’re done.
“Povon, have one of those Draconian Healers take over your Movement spells that simulate the pull of Kellaran for the Healers and their equipment. Equemev, have one of the unicorn Healers take over the spell you are using to block the stench and the nausea for this group. It reeks in here so badly, it might register on your minds in your sleep otherwise, and we don’t want that.”
“Done.” Povon said a moment later.
“They will also check us hourly, and make certain that we do in fact awaken in twelve hours.” Equemev reported.
“Excellent.” the Eldest nodded. “There is nothing here to sleep upon except the stone floor, but the pull of this moon is so slight that you should be comfortable enough if Povon ends her Movement spells on you just before you cast your Sleep spells.
“You may do so now.”
Mark and Talia cuddled with each other on the floor, as did the unicorn and dragon couples. Talia made sure her hand would remain in contact with Ria’s hilt by binding them together with her sword-belt. As soon as Povon removed their artificial weight, Talia cast the timed Sleep spell on her and Mark. The other two females cast for themselves and their mates, and tied their Sleep spells to Talia’s, since her elven sense of time was the most accurate among them.
It seemed that as soon as they fell asleep they woke up again in exactly the same positions, but now they were on the grass of a fenced pasture, within view of a huge city that was under attack by dragons, and likely by Sylvan as well, though that was impossible to see for certain at this distance.
The Eldest appeared to be physically present, a very small green dragon in robust health, as he must have looked before being struck comatose by Zarkog forty million years before. “Welcome to your first exercise.” he said with a nod as his students stood and gathered round, and it seemed strange to hear him speaking normally.
“This is very strange.” Ria stated. “I have never had a dream before, nor even truly been asleep.”
“Yonder city is Bojoston, capitol of Thon.” Quewanak informed them. “Zarkog has decided to take it as his first conquest in The Just Alliance, and has assigned one-tenth of his forces to doing so. Your task is to prevent that. In order to teach you to make your own decisions, you will be unable to contact any of the other senior leaders or commanders of the alliance.
“Begin.” he said, and vanished.
“All right, let’s deepen the Link to battle levels and precast a few spells.” Mark briskly ordered. “I’ll contact the city’s defenders and determine the state of the siege, and find out where we’re needed most. For now, we’ll disrupt that pack of dark dragons there. They seem pretty determined to crack the shields of whatever they’re attacking below them, which is a good enough reason for us to prevent it. Ria, you have tactical command.”
“Thank you Mark.” Ria acknowledged. “Does anyone have any comments before we begin? No? Then let’s go.”
Within minutes they forgot they were dreaming, and that they were participating in a training exercise. Then they fought for their lives.
This was an entirely different situation than any they had faced previously. Unlike their first battle over Kletiuk, they were vastly outnumbered and out-powered. Nor could they flee as they’d done before, since they were tasked with holding Bojoston. Within an hour they faced some four hundred million Sylvan and dragons, most of whom were fully mobile forces; capable of Flight and Translocation. This host dwarfed the population and defense of the city they attacked, and the Strike Force of The Just Alliance could only send one hundred and eighty million to assist the city’s defenders, since other battles were commencing all over Kellaran. All told, the defenders were outnumbered at two to one.
The exercise was a disaster. Povon and Kragorram were killed in the second hour, soon after the enemy commander identified them as priority targets. Equemev fell two hours later. Mark and Talia only escaped being killed on several occasions because the curse would automatically Translocate them an instant before they were absolutely overwhelmed, and even with that it had to re-integrate Talia once when she and Mark were struck by a massed Concussion spell cast by over six thousand Sylvan.
By midnight, Zarkog’s army held the city. Once they had it secured, they began systematically beating every member of the populace that was old enough to walk, and severely enough that none of them would be walking the next day. Thus they suppressed rebellion among the conquered.
The seven students re-appeared in the pasture with the Eldest. Above Bojoston, Zarkog’s forces were starting their attack anew, exactly the same as they had at the commencement of their first attempt at the exercise.
“You have failed the exercise. Begin again.” Quewanak simply stated, and vanished once more.
“Dammit!” Mark cursed. “We only have a few minutes to set a different course before we forget it’s an exercise again!”
“No, not quite.” Povon disagreed. “I’m starting to get a feel for what the Eldest is doing. We’ll be able to learn from our experience, even though we’ll forget that we’ve fought this battle already. I’m not sure how he’ll handle the discrepancy, perhaps we’ll think we’ve learned from other previous battles, but however it’s done, we’ll remember what we tried before that worked, and what didn’t work.”
“All right.” Mark nodded. “Obviously, we have to make sure we’re not recognized by presenting different appearances. And we’ll have to change our appearance again every time they start to realize how much damage we’re doing, so they don’t send so many after us all the time. Maybe we should just be as undetectable as possible.”
“I think we’re missing the point.” Silaran stated. “No matter how well we fight, the seven of us are not going to turn the tide by ourselves, not in a battle of this scale. We do need to fight more effectively, but far more important than that, we need to find a way to make the entire defending force more effective.”
“All right. That’s good thinking.” Mark nodded. “I think the crucial breakdown was the loss of the reservoir and the eastern industrial district. Does anybody remember who was defending that?”
“That was the Nineteenth Thon Division, aided by a brigade of The Fist of The Empire.” Kragorram supplied.
“All right, we’ll go help them.” Mark decided.
“As far as our fighting ability goes, Kragorram and I are catching up to the rest of you in spell casting as fast as we can.” Silaran pointed out. “But we really need to do something for Talia and Equemev’s physical combat skills. Far more of our enemies have succeeded in closing to sword range than we expected.
“Ria, did Visinniria give you the ability to bend your body as elves do?” Equemev suddenly asked.
“No, and I wouldn’t do so if she had.” the spirit of the sword stated with assurance.
“So why then did she give you her physical combat skills, as we heard her say she did at the first visitation? They are of no use to you, due to your rigidity and your insubstantial nature. I can only think it was so you could pass them to Talia somehow, and thereby skirt the gods’ restrictions on helping mortals. As well, if I could find a way for Silaran to pass his combat skills to me, I might be able to avoid being killed in the next exercise as I was in the last one. That was… disturbing. To say the least. Even Povon, whose physical combat abilities are quite fearsome, could greatly benefit if she could access and integrate Kragorram’s more highly trained fighting skills.
“Mark, you have passed the knowledge of your combat skills to Talia, but the knowledge does not save her the necessity of practicing the moves. I’d be willing to bet that Visinniria’s fighting skills can be passed from Ria to Talia in a much more immediately useful form, and if we carefully observe how the spell works, we may be able to duplicate it. Then you could also gain from Visinniria’s many centuries of combat skill, and Silaran could share his with me, and Kragorram his with Povon.”
“I am extremely chagrined not to have realized this sooner.” Ria stated. “I feel like I was given a nicely wrapped present, which I then failed to open until it was almost too late. You are indeed correct. Distinct from the martial skills my Lady gave me is the skills-transference spell she used to do so. Talia, I pass it all to you. Povon and Equemev, I pass you the skills transference spell.”
“Oh, that is nice!” Talia grinned, and shivered. “There’s nothing like a gift