Darkin A Journey East - By Joseph A. Turkot Page 0,98
turned and slapped Merol across his face.
“Mind your tongue in the company of your king, Merol,” Terion scolded. Merol rose up and sulked away into the night, rubbing his cheek as he went.
“I am sorry. Merol has been in terrible spirits lately, all this has been very difficult for him—you see his family disappeared several weeks ago,” Terion told.
“I am sorry to hear,” Adacon replied.
“And still more strain comes to him, as he is the only Vapour of the Oreinen,” informed Terion.
“He’s a Vapour like Krem?” Adacon asked. Suddenly, Gaiberth, Iirevale, and the king broke into laughter.
“I wouldn’t compare him to Krem, but yes, he channels magic for good intentions, and so he is a Vapour,” Terion explained.
“Alright, I guess I should trust his wisdom about the noise then,” Adacon said, trailing off with a noticeable trace of doubt.
“Trust me, if not him, Adacon. Go to rest, for I will keep our men here only as long as I deem it completely safe to do so. I’ll see you in the morning when we travel west, up the Teeth Cliffs, and into battle together,” Terion smiled.
“Good night,” Adacon replied, and he turned to retrace his steps toward Slowin and his cooling broth.
* * *
The night wore on, and no one stayed up very late, as the coming day brought with it the first sure chance of combat. Adacon slept by Calan’s side, and before long Falen was standing over them, blowing steam at them from his nostrils.
“Time to get up, young lovers. Today we restore the peace,” Falen roared at them.
“Falen… ugh, you don’t have to be so loud,” Adacon moaned. Calan and he stood up, stretching under the freshly risen sun.
“The gnome put me up to it. Said if I startled you, he’d show me the secret entrance to Palailia,” Falen admitted.
“Joke’s on you, dear drake!” Remtall laughed from afar, and he proceeded to tell Falen that he truly knew nothing of any secret entrance to Palailia.
“I’ll show you whom the joke’s on,” Falen playfully returned, and Falen blew a great gust of wind at Remtall. The gnome was tossed through air for a second before tumbling into some nearby elves.
“Egh, sorry about that—pay me no mind,” Remtall apologized to the elves he’d bowled over. He brushed himself off and walked away, though the elves didn’t seem to reciprocate the humor, and they scowled at the unkempt gnome as he went.
“The noise—it’s grown louder,” Adacon immediately noticed as he became fully awake.
“There’s more to worry about right now than a noise, Adacon,” Slowin reminded him, and Adacon tried to take his mind off the humming sound. They ate a brief breakfast then broke camp to assemble before Terion and Gaiberth once more. This time Gaiberth spoke to them in the early morning sun:
“Our scouts have given us word that the Erol Drunne militia is almost defeated. They await our numbers in the hope of renewing the fight. They tell us that they have seen no end to the line of trolls, or Gazaran—that just as each new band is destroyed, one from behind replaces it,” Gaiberth relayed.
“Gaiberth means not to frighten you—he means only to prepare you for the truth of this war,” Terion interjected. “Many of us will never return to our beloved city of Oreine after this war is ended—yet if we choose not to fight, there will be no such home to speak of.”
To Adacon’s surprise, the army cheered fearlessly in response to the grim news.
“Has anyone seen Merol? He did not return last night after receiving—discipline,” the king asked while he still had everyone’s attention. The whole troop silenced, looking at one another, murmuring. Many shrugged their shoulders, but none knew the whereabouts of Merol.
“It is no matter then. We march now to the Teeth Cliffs, with or without him,” said Terion. He led the army up a trail that ran between the edge of the Carbal Jungle and the start of the Teeth Cliffs. At that moment, Adacon realized that the humming he had been ignoring had grown louder; the volume of the sound grew sharply, peaking in a painful cracking noise. Panicked, the entire troop covered their ears. Adacon looked up in the direction from which the cracking had sounded: to his horror, a gigantic portion of stone near the top of the Dinbell Wall was shattering. Dark lines zigzagged across the grey rock, spreading out like a spider-web. A piece came free, toppled off, rotating through the air down to where they