Even Gods Must Fall - Christian Warren Freed Page 0,43
than even I am capable of dreaming of. The Dae’shan will stop at nothing to achieve their goal. Even down to three they will not be easy to defeat. This is the final, great battle of age.”
Skuld laughed suddenly, a gentle sound that was more awkward than mirthful. “And no one will ever know who stood there at the final battle. We are nameless heroes, Anienam.”
“Sometimes those are the best kind.”
Ironfoot tossed a small log on the fire. “Another two days. That’s what Anienam says. Two days and this will be decided one way or the other.”
“Doesn’t seem so long now, does it?” Nothol asked as he stared deeply into the licking tongues of red and orange. “We could almost make a vacation out of it.”
“Don’t you dare look at me, Nothol Coll. One more rib and I’ll blacken your eye,” Dorl snapped from his spot beside Rekka.
Nothol grinned sheepishly and held up his hands. “Fair enough. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Besides, you’re getting cranky in your old age.”
Dorl made to stand but Rekka’s lightning-quick reflexes clamped a hand on his shoulder and forced him back down. Despite her actions, the twinkle in her eye suggested she was beginning to appreciate the subtle barbs between the longtime friends.
Dorl wagged a finger at Nothol. “Just wait. You just wait.”
“Your girlfriend seems to agree,” Nothol laughed.
Ironfoot laughed so hard he spit a mouthful of water out. Even Groge enjoyed a laugh. Dorl could only fume harmlessly as the much-needed humor spread around the tiny camp. They’d been missing their greatest military asset, Boen, and struggling with a way to compensate for his loss. Many turned to Groge in the hopes the Giant youth would find his inner warrior and lead them into battle. Dorl was as frustrated as the others but had an outlet, even if it was the naturally taciturn Rekka Jel.
Bahr had grown increasingly reclusive the deeper into Delranan they drove, giving the sell swords cause for concern. He’d been their rock since departing to rescue the princess back in the fall. Whatever personal demons he combated when he thought no one was looking were starting to bleed over into the rest of the quest. Melancholy was as dangerous as enemy steel.
“That felt good. I haven’t laughed like that since the feast after we crushed the dark Dwarves at Bode Hill,” Ironfoot announced. “Dwarves often find humor in battle. It keeps us moving past the grief of loss.”
Nothol said, “Makes sense to me. Let’s hope we’re all still around after this is finished so we can share a good laugh.”
“Wizard, what do we do when we reach the ruins? I can’t imagine our enemies will leave it unguarded,” Ironfoot turned to ask. The Dwarf captain had had his laugh and wanted to get back to business. War wasn’t a topic of general discussion.
Anienam paused as he noticed each of his companions slowly turning to look at him. The looks on their faces were heavier, more troubled, than any other he recalled seeing. Hope clung desperately against the harsh realities closing in around them. Deep inside, Anienam began to question whether he was the right person for this task. The fate of the entire world rested on the shoulders of the handful of collected souls staring back at him. Were they enough? What would Dakeb have done? His father had a knack for collecting assorted characters, forging them into a cohesive unit, and tackling intense evil. Anienam wasn’t his father.
There was no way he’d ever be able to live up to Dakeb’s reputation. The last descendant of the Mages felt his confidence slip, gradually chipping away with each new challenge or setback. He didn’t know how much more he had left to give. Anienam lacked the resources necessary to feel inspired. His companions weren’t hostile but remained cold to his advances. He recognized that he wasn’t an easy person to get along with. Wizards seldom were. Magic continued to leave a sour taste in the world long after the Mage Wars.
Not that he could blame them. He often imagined he’d feel the same way if he hadn’t been adopted by Dakeb when he was but a babe. Instead he’d grown up learning the nuances of magic and how to control his newly discovered abilities. Long decades spent in solitude all boiled down to this last task. One final quest to help right the wrongs committed by magic users since the dawn of time. Anienam Keiss wished it