XIX
The journey lasted nearly a week in the dark, dank caverns. We snaked our way through the underground passageways, paying homage to Roslyn as we passed by the destroyed sinkhole, and continued our monotonous march underground.
“We’re here,” Fulcan spoke, breaking the silence. “The stone.”
Quickly, a nearby soldier handed the mystical white stone to Fulcan, who placed it into a familiar slot on the wall. Within seconds, a flaming portal opened in front of us, revealing barren rocks and the desert terrain of Overlord Geonyte’s island.
“Kronan!”
At once, another footman stepped up and held the stone in place, allowing the Army of Light to pass through the portal.
“I don’t know what Tyrannust is up to, and it’s not going to be easy finding him,” Fulcan spoke, turning towards the two guilds. “I just wanted to thank the both of you again for joining me in this fight. The fate of our nation lies in our hands now.”
“Just like the good ol’ days,” I said.
Fulcan smiled. “Just like the good ol’ days. Onwards!”
The army marched through the portal, led by Fulcan, and we followed closely afterwards. When every footmen had stepped through, Kronan jumped through the closing portal, grabbing the stone with him in one smooth action.
“Better than you,” Tarsus jested.
I glared at him, moving with the rest of the army. “You’re doing it next time.”
The entire island was a desert, a bright dune with no life within. The streaking sun rays bent along the shifting heat waves as dusk approached, a light breeze lifting grains of sand across the vast desert floor. A few dead shrubs lay in the distant and a blur of blue beyond the horizon; an oasis or a mirage. Geonyte’s island directly contrasted Naterra’s faction, a once cool green and luscious congregation of canopies now nothing but mounds of shrubs and sand.
“Any new intel?” Fulcan asked openly.
Mutters spread across the army before a knight stepped forward, matching Fulcan’s brisk pace.
“Your Royal Highness, there’s been a...disturbance in this land.”
“Keep going.”
I looked around; there was no evidence of life but the shifting waves of sand.
“Earlier on, you sent two envoys to scout the land ahead of time. Well, I was one of them and the other...”
The knight paused, lifted the helmet off his head and lowered his face.
“He fell to the -”
“Sand Excavators,” Fulcan guessed. “Figured.”
“Excavators,” Tarsus repeated. “Didn’t know much about the Weavers, but our guild’s had personal experience with these worms before.”
“Perhaps you could be of assistance.”
“Always at your service.”
“Sir Gihlt, was there any sign of Tyrannust?”
“No, my lord,” the scout replied.
“Sir Othniel, where are we setting camp? It’ll be dark before we know it.”
“We found a crag somewhere off to the south. It’s a large cavern, we should be able to house everyone in there.”
“How about the Excavators?”
“They don’t dwell in open caves,” Tarsus answered, “or at least not from my experience.”
“On your word. Men, forward! Sir Othniel, take the lead.”
We picked up our pace and followed the envoy who led us down a steep slope. The sandy hills began to envelop the dying sun as stars shimmered in the distance. In the distance rose a tall dark rock, hollowed within, evidently the crag Sir Othniel had informed us of.
“We’ll camp here tonight. Everyone, settle down and restore your spirits before we begin our march to the capital tomorrow.”
The night approached rapidly as the men set up camp, many making themselves comfortable within the large crevice. It was like the underground sinkhole, filled with the clamours of armour brushing across armour and a calamity of voices upon voices.
A large white tent was quickly erected deeper within the cave, the same tent that was on Naterra’s island. Fulcan and the generals proceeded to enter while Tarsus and I regrouped with our guild members. The Night Guild had chosen a position near the entrance of the open cave to the left, so I brought my men and women to the right of the opening and set up camp there.
“Ulterium! Tarsus! Meet me inside in ten minutes!” Fulcan shouted as he glanced out of the large tent. Before we could respond, he had already quickly re-entered the marquee.
“Arcanor, Glo, could I have a quick word with you? Actually,” I added on second thought, “Everyone, gather around. Tarsus, Bring your guild over here.”
Both guilds slowly encircled me, finishing up their task at hand. I asked Foku and Glo to explain what had occurred on Ter Roluun when they had advanced ahead of us.
“Well, we landed in the midst of a tribal feud,” Foku started. “Somewhere near the pass, a bit off to the west, Glo and I fell through the sky on a downtrodden path, between two conflicting sides.”
“Sorry,” Arcanor whispered sheepishly.
“We scrambled up fast and made sense of the cardinal directions. Didn’t get much further before a dart got stuck in my leg.”
Foku pulled up his right pant leg, revealing a faded scar with a dark bruise around it.
“Luckily you sent me with him. The poison had quickly manifested throughout Foku’s entire leg within seconds, and if I hadn’t acted fast, he would’ve lost a good leg.”
“We pulled ourselves off the track and hid among the underbrush. There were two evident tribes I could make out; the one that shot me was a green figure with a large wooden mask-”
“Just like the one I tore in half,” Lexon remarked.
“- and the other tribe were small blue warriors covered with many ceremonial feathers, and they carried another weapon.”
“Slings,” Glo helped.
“Yeah. Well, at that point, my mind wasn’t focused on anything else but my leg. The pain was searing, unbearable. The dart had hindered us from making it to King Fulcan; we had to camp there overnight before advancing.”
“That night, I observed both clans while Foku was resting. Both tribal warriors were around the same size, and from what I recalled from the history lore, the two tribes were heavily impacted by the nature around them. Fal’awk, the blue clan, if I remember correctly, worshipped the beasts in the air. The other tribe, Leskrïegen, held trees in high regard. But of course, both polytheistic clans feared the Weavers as well.”
“What about Tyrannust?” I asked.
“Where we landed, there was no sign of him nor his men. After a day or so, Foku had mostly recovered, and we found a knight of the Army of Light who had directed us to King Fulcan.”
“After a short exchange of greetings, Fulcan placed me with the squadron in the east. I regained my strength quickly, thanks to Glo.”
“And I was ordered to stay in the temporary camp, tending the wounded knights.”
“Our squadron was in charge of scouting the land, and that was when I first caught sight of Tyrannust’s Legion. We travelled up the side of the Lord’s Overlook, or, should I say, Overlord’s Overlook, and there stood Naterra, with his personal rank of men - there were only twelve of them. Tyrannust had also placed four or five of his own men with Naterra.”
“Wait, let’s get this straight. There were four...no, five different conflicting forces on Ter Roluun?”
“Yes. The two tribes, Naterra’s personal army, Tyrannust men, and the Army of Light and Purity.”
“So what was really happening?”
“To be completely honest, the land was already in complete chaos before we ignited it on fire. Naterra somehow knew our every move, and whenever we tried to advance any deeper within the forested land, he posted his elite force to counterattack us, pushing us further back towards the outer border of the island. Certainly his twelve legionnaires were trained in the arts of scouting.”
Kadava let out a small scoff.
“And they were good fighters, no, lethal fighters; put to death at least half of the fifty men Fulcan had sent with me. Our squadron was nearly decimated by the twelve assassins. And we got none of them.”
“Arretans. Why would my brothers betray me?” Sylvan interrupted. “Those twelve men, they were of Arretan descent, no? Were they carrying longbows in their hands? Were they cloaked as I am?”
“They were, but cloaked in black, unlike your deep green. How did you know?”
“There is no other race on the island of that civilized and deadly nature but my fellow Arretan sharpshooters,” Sylvan continued in his heavy accent. “And Naterra never possessed an army, as far as I remember. I cannot believe my own ears; my brothers selling themselves for the works of darkness?”
“Sorry to hear that. But the Arretans were deadly with their bow- ”
“Every arrow kills. You are not a true Arretan if you do not become one with your bow,” Sylvan interrupted.
“Right. I’ve also suspected the Terramancer to be involved in all of this. There was no way the overlord could both spy out where we were and plot against the king’s army at the same time. I’ve also seen the trees shift with my own eyes - our squadron’s been caught at dead-ends and switchbacks multiple times.”
“That’s a high possibility,” Arcanor spoke. “Mancers are individuals that are strongest in controlling their respective elements. The Terramancer could’ve rerouted you by shifting the nature around at ease.”
“Hmm. As for the two tribes,” Foku continued, “I never really interacted with them much ever since I got that dart to my leg. Fulcan had sent a good fifty men with me to overtake Naterra’s castle, distracting his force so that Fulcan could gain some ground. Throughout the war, I was occupied in the front lines against Naterra’s elite assassins and Tyrannust’s men on the overlook.”
“I was there when the tribes attacked,” Glo interrupted. “While I was tending the lot of soldiers, the North wall suddenly burst into flames. It wasn’t long before streams of goblinoid warriors broke down the fortified partition and the men within were thrown into confusion. We were unprepared, and more of us had perished than the tribal warriors. I took up an axe and started swinging away at those...savages.”
“I’ll be damned. You’re a fighter?” Tarsus asked, astonished.
“I didn’t recruit her just for her healing abilities. Glo grew up with Fulcan; if anyone could handle an ax better than the king, it would be her.”
Glo blushed a bit, continuing with the recollection of the events.
“I hadn’t held a double-bladed pole arm in years. I was a bit rusty at first, but it just came back to me naturally. In the end, the remaining tribal chiefs had retreated, leading their warriors back to their camps. Their numbers and ours had decimated significantly; it was a huge blow to Fulcan’s army. If something of the likes happens again on Geonyte’s island, we won’t be able to get too far.”
“Why do you reckon they broke down the wall? It seems so...spontaneous to me, especially since the tribes never got in the way of the Army of Light, from both of your descriptions.”
“That was what I was asking myself too. There wasn’t much evidence from the walls, especially since the timber had burnt down, but according to a scout from the army, Sir Gilht, he had seen a message engraved in our wall just before it was burnt down and reported it to King Fulcan. Fulcan told me that it was a cryptic message, something about the message openly insulting the gods of both tribes, scrawled in a native Ter Roluun dialect that both tribes understood. He said it had to be Naterra’s personal doing, but that was just his guess.”
“Sounds logical to me,” I spoke, compiling both Glo and Foku’s accounts. “Naterra could have used the message as a stimulus for the tribes to turn against us, weakening us and therefore pulling Foku and the fifty away from his palace, so that Naterra and his army could personally come to end Fulcan.”
“That’s roughly what I figured,” Glo spoke.
“You’re right about that,” Foku replied. “We were down too many men, and when we saw the smoke from a distance, there was no choice but to immediately return to the camp. When we arrived, the tribal conflict had already ended.”
“Well, the entire island’s nothing but a heap of ashes and dust now,” Tarsus interjected. “Thank you for informing us, Glo, Foku. Ulterium, let’s go. The king is waiting.”
I nodded my head, following Tarsus into the king’s tent. “Rest well, everyone. Tomorrow will be a long day, if we aren’t again disturbed tonight. Tarsus and I will debrief the information from the king to you when the meeting’s over.”
The group consented happily, some smiling, some conversing, others lying down in exhaustion. We had all become well acquainted with one another, and from a faraway distance, it would seem as if King Fulcan had been aided by a single guild of fourteen members.