He grimaced as he wove the spells as tight as he could around everyone. The other spells were already sapping his strength and they’d only been present for a few minutes. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to hold them all. Finally, the last weave was accomplished. He let out a gasp of relief and his eyes popped open.
He could see the others, but they appeared ghostly, nearly see-thru. That was how they were supposed to look to him. To the Australs, they should be completely invisible.
If I succeeded.
Helgrom was looking at him with those burning amber eyes. Was he certain? Had he succeeded? Darcassan wanted to growl that, of course, he had! But Helgrom wouldn’t be able to hear him. The sound spell would cut off his words as well from Helgrom’s ears. He could only act to show Helgrom that he had succeeded.
And there’s only one way to do that… if I did this correctly…
He slowly–totteringly–got to his feet. The Australs were gliding in the T-intersection, softly twittering to each other. He fully stepped out from behind the wall directly into the purple one’s line of vision. He held his breath.
Please have worked. Please have worked. Please…
The creature continued on its aimless gliding and twittering. He let out another relieved sigh. He’d done it! He wiped the back of his right hand over his forehead. It came back soaked with cold sweat. His hand was trembling. He clenched it into a fist. He turned to look at the others, gesturing for them to follow after him to the armory doors.
The doors were fifty feet away from the Australs. They didn’t actually look down there as it was a dead end other than the armory. But when they actually opened the doors–and only supposedly Helgrom could do that–the sound of the doors opening and the sight of them opening would not be invisible or silent. But Helgrom seemed to think that wouldn’t be a problem. He hoped the dwarf was right or they would be in a world of trouble.
The others rose up from behind the walls. All of them were uncertain, even Glom, who snaked him long neck towards one of the Australs, but it ignored him. Glom must have hissed, but the sound could not be heard. Helgrom made a motion for Glom to come to heel. The naki surprisingly did. Snaglak looked a bit disappointed or betrayed and glared at Glom’s behind as if it had committed treachery.
His sister glided to his side and touched his arm. She smiled at him tenderly. There was pride in her eyes. And also relief. He was too exhausted to be angry that she’d been worried he couldn’t do it. Perhaps the possibility of failure still was too near the surface as he dragged himself down the hallway after Helgrom and Glom with his sister at his side and Snaglak bringing up the rear.
The doors to the armory didn’t look like doors, but instead appeared to be a half-moon shaped carving out of black stone. The top rose even above Snaglak’s over seven-foot tall frame by several feet. There was no lock or handles or even a crack to show where the two doors met. It appeared to be one solid slab of black rock.
The carving was intricate. It looked like a map. On the right side of the map there was a stylized version of a dwarven city by some magma waterfalls. Darcassan thought that might be Xrdatha. Helgrom cut the thumb on his right hand and pressed that bleeding digit against the center of the city. The blood did not drip down like he thought it would. Instead, it shivered and then glided into a thin track that was cut into the stone.
Though there couldn’t have been that much blood flowing from Helgrom’s thumb, this crimson gouge continued to fill and flow away from Xrdatha. It was following a road that led out of the Draesiwen kingdom and heading to the left or the west.
Darcassan could not help himself. He stood closer to the carving and kept the blood in sight, moving along with it. The blood reached a series of mountain ranges. The single road that had left Xrdatha split into several. The blood too split and continued on all paths. Some of these paths clung to the steep sides and wound up and up and up only to crest over the mountain peaks before it traveled back down the other side. Other paths went beneath the mountains. But either way the blood traveled, there were other cities along these disparate routes.
The architecture was alien and strange, but wondrous too. The cities on the mountaintops appeared to be made of countless towers bound together like a quiver full of arrows. These towers clung precariously to the peaks, seemingly likely to break off and crash into the valleys far below. The cities in the depths went into the very heart of the mountains. There bulbous-looking buildings that had an almost organic feel to them like mushrooms burst through the dark ground.
His eyes continued to follow the blood as it traveled paths beyond the mountains to a massive lake that contained several chains of islands. Creatures–things with wings or snouts or scales or other unfathomable features–were shown to live on these islands. On the lake’s far shore was a desert-like biome where orcs and nakis roamed. The blood flowed past half-forgotten cities and lost civilizations nearly consumed by the sands with only the tops of some towers or the very tip of a pyramid rising to the surface.
The blood flowed…
Until it reached Illithor. There was no doubt in his mind what city took up almost the entire left side of the doors. The soaring towers. The mixture of ancient and familiar architecture. The size of it, dwarfing everything else that Darcassan had seen on the map, named it for what it was.
Illithor…
Fabled, purple-towered Illithor.
His heart lurched in his chest. The secrets and magic that city must contain! Bitterness filled his mouth. And he was so far from it. He might never go there. He might never touch a weapon forged by the Night King or even Ailduin. There might be something of the most fabled Sun King to ever exist still there.
The most powerful weapons in existence were said to have been created in Illithor and Vex had left most of them behind. Why? Who knew! It didn’t matter! Only one of them could turn back the Leviathan! Rhalyf had claimed that whatever he found would not be enough, but that just showed a lack of imagination. If only he had been allowed to go to Illithor…
The blood reached the city and there was a soft click. Darcassan swung around and looked back towards the Australs, but they were still drifting and twittering softly. Unaware that what they guarded was being plundered right under their noses.
He smiled thinly and turned back to the carving. But it was no longer a carving. A line appeared directly in the center going from the floor to the ceiling. Door handles floated to the surface of the stone like islands emerging from the ocean. Helgrom put his hands upon them and stood there for long moments. Darcassan leaned forward to see his expression. Was something wrong? Were there tears in Helgrom’s eyes?
The dwarf pushed down the handles and the doors to the armory swung open silently. At first, there was only darkness, which was good. All they needed were lights to flare to life and draw the Australs’ attention. In fact, the lights stayed off as Helgrom simply walked into the darkness.
The dwarf was swallowed by it.
Darcassan jerked his head towards his sister. Her eyes went wide and her lips parted in wonder. Snaglak and Glom followed after the dwarf and the two of them disappeared too. The darkness was complete. He could see nothing. Suddenly, Elasha took his hand. He looked at her. She was smiling and she pulled him with her into the darkness.
There was a feeling of the world spinning similarly to what had happened when they’d gone through the rift. The world, too, went from darkness to light… Golden light reflecting off of countless shining weapons and armor all around them like a treasure trove of a dragon.
Countless towers of gleaming swords. Glittering spears that thrust their pointed tips towards the heavens. Perfectly strung bows made of rare wood that glowed and reflected the troughs of fire that ran throughout the massive room. Arrows that looked to be made of glass or obsidian or unknown metals were neatly packed in quivers of the finest leathers. Shields as bright as the Sun reflected his image back to him. Armor made for dwarf and elf alike stood at attention. They crackled with magical enchantments. Two-headed axes that looked capable of cutting a foe in two leaned against those armors’ legs.
