Chapter Three

Chapter Three

“What are you doing, R’ille?”

The question came not from Brinn, but from the leader of a group of Illuminar under gold banners that were just now arriving on the scene. It was Lorelai, one of the king’s handmaidens. Though slighter in stature than R’ille, she shared the same timeless features, except her hair was wispy and thin, and great dark circles lay under her eyes. She was a worrier. Like the king and many of the Illuminar, she had long ago forgotten the Creator.

“What are you doing?”

“What am I doing? I’m going to save our people,” R’ille answered her. “I’m going to quench this fiery ball above us, and then find a way through this accursed forest that hinders our flight.”

“It is hopeless!” Lorelai wailed. “The Demon Lord has escaped our captivity and murdered our king! Now he directs his forces toward our annihilation! We are doomed!”

“Get a hold of yourself, Lorelai! Believe in the Creator. Believe in the grace of Ár-Ádun.”

Lorelai just shook her head. Too often did R’ille invoke the name of the Creator, and it was not lost on Lorelai that that name had long ago ceased to bring aid to their people.

“We are not doomed,” R’ille said undeterred, for unlike her kin she had not lost faith in Ár-Ádun. “My brother the king is dead at the hand of the Demon Lord, but Kinirath’s slaying may yet lead to the Demon Lord’s undoing, for now I am the leader of our people. As leader, I am turning us back to Ár-Ádun at once.” She turned away from Lorelai and faced the trees that loomed dark and foreboding before her, their branches low and menacing.

The late king’s handmaiden was speechless. She didn’t understand. What could R’ille possibly do that would change their impending doom? Not far away, Lorelai could still hear the clash of weaponry as troops continued trying to hold off the Demon Lord’s army.

Brinn also wondered what R’ille was going to do, though he did not share the handmaiden’s feeling of hopelessness.

“R’ille, what are you going to try?”

“I don’t know,” she answered her husband. “But I must do something.”

You must use the enemy’s weapons.

“R’ille, what is it you hear?” Brinn had seen her cock her head ever so slightly and knew that she was listening to her Kalláh, which only she could hear. He wished he could hear it too, but his momentary feeling of sadness at having lost that gift gave way to the pride he felt that she, at least, still possessed it.

“My Kalláh tells me to use the enemy’s weapons, but I’m not sure I understand.” R’ille said, turning back toward Brinn. “You see, I’ve already used them once today. I used a goblin’s torch and a gargoyle’s arrow to bring down the Nil'Ganash that you just finished off. I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to do.”

The enemy’s weapons. You must use them.

“There it is again. I must use the enemy’s weapons. Could it mean what I think it means?”

You must use the Zor.

“R’ille,” Brinn spoke softly, and he held something out to her.

She looked, and was startled by what he held in his outstretched hand: A blue wand. She looked down at Arazor in her own hand, and then looked back at Brinn.

“I took this off a dead Nil'Ganash,” Brinn said. “I think you’re supposed to have it.”

“A blue wand? Could it be? Yes, my Kalláh confirms it. It is Maladzor, the wand of Air.”

Suddenly R’ille knew that the plan she had considered moments ago was exactly what she was supposed to do. “Am I to use these wands?” she asked, to be certain.

Yes. Her Kalláh also said something else. Do not reveal that you also hold Illinzor, the wand of Earth.

Obeying her Kalláh, she remained silent about the wand tucked in her cloak, taken off the Nil'Ganash that Brinn had shot out of the sky. She took the blue wand from her husband, and then turned and faced the gathered Illuminar.

“For too long we have believed in our own might and glory as the reason for our achievements in this world.” Then she turned directly to Lorelai. “Did we really believe we had the strength to conquer and enslave the Demon Lord himself? Don’t you see it was all a trick? By attempting that folly we brought Lucifer right into our midst, where he used his cunning voice to sow the seeds of our own destruction. Now my brother is dead and Lucifer turns his armies upon us seeking what has ever been his goal: our extermination.” She turned toward Brinn. “This folly ends right now.”

“What do you mean? What are you going to do?” It was Lorelai again.

“Turn the Demon Lord’s own weapons against himself.”

“But—”

“I don’t have time to explain, Lorelai. We are being slaughtered!”

R’ille turned away and, taking the red and blue wands in each hand, began to pray.

“You’re going to use those?” Lorelai pointed to the two wands that R’ille held. “You cannot use the Zori. For an Illuminar to attempt such a thing would be disastrous!” Lorelai half turned to plead her case to those around her. “It is said in the lore that only one who has given his soul to the Demon Lord can wield a wand of the elements. Anyone else would fail the attempt because the wand would simply use its power to seek out and subdue the power of the other wands.” Lorelai turned back to R’ille. “If you try to use them, instead of controlling the forces of nature, they will simply destroy each other’s magic!”

R’ille ignored her and continued to pray, stepping closer to a large fir that loomed over her from the edge of the forest conjured to block their retreat. “Ár-Ádun, forgive us!” she said as she held Arazor above her head. “Save your chosen people! We repent and remember you in our time of need! Save us from the wrath of the Demon Lord!”

She stabbed the red wand toward the branches of the great evergreen, then fell to her knees, head bowed. “Forgive us,” she whispered.

Brinn wanted to approach his wife, but decided it would be best to just remain where he was. He silently joined her in prayer.

Nothing happened at first, and the sounds of the battle continued to rage beyond the gathered Illuminar, along with the roar of the fiery ball above, all of which brought a heightened fear to those who watched R’ille. Suddenly, a tongue of flame leapt out from the ball of fire overhead and touched, just for a second, the evergreen. A wisp of smoke rose from within its branches. The first flames licked into view, and in minutes the tree was engulfed. Those gathered stepped back from the heat, save R’ille, who continued to kneel in prayer.

The rain that fell from the clouds overhead intensified but fell useless upon the giant burning tree. Its flames soon grew to a staggering height.

“Look,” marveled Brinn. “The wand of Fire attacks the forest created by the wand of Earth! Arazor’s fire is destroying Illinzor’s trees!”

The Illuminar around R’ille cheered, but when she opened her eyes and saw only one tree on fire, R’ille was dismayed. Burning down one tree at a time would never open a path fast enough to escape.

R’ille then took the blue wand Maladzor into her left hand, raised it, and aimed it at the fireball above her head. Saying nothing, she just pointed and waited. At first, nothing happened. But then, in seconds, something miraculous occurred. The fireball above began to be buffeted by gusts of wind.

The flaming orb flickered about, and then grew in intensity as if trying to avoid being snuffed out. The winds just increased in response. A strange swirling started, and then the ball of fire grew into a great cone, the point of which settled near the heads of the gaping onlookers. As they watched, the wind and flame formed a giant tornado of fire. R’ille took both wands now in her right hand and gestured toward the forest. The tornado above them began to move, drifting downward until it settled upon the burning tree, which seemed to add to tornado’s power. The flames of the tree joined with the flames of the whirlwind, and resulting conflagration began moving on a westward course, away from R’ille, consuming each tree it touched in a fiery display. As it moved, it cleared a path, leaving a blackened trail behind. Though seedlings began to sprout again from the charred ground, they seemed to grow at a much slower pace.

“R’ille,” Brinn smiled as he stood alongside her. “I don’t know how you did it, but your fai­th has saved us again.”

“Hurry! We must follow the path that has been laid out before us. We must follow the pillar of fire!”

R’ille took off after firestorm, gesturing for Brinn and the others to follow. Brinn grabbed her arm and stopped her. “R’ille— ­­"

“The golden banners of the king’s guard are leaderless,” R’ille countered, before Brinn could finish what he was trying to say. “I must lead them, and all of our people, on the path behind the fire. Brinn—”

“I know what you’re thinking, R’ille, and you’re right. I hate the thought of leaving your side again, but it is the best plan.”

He stepped back from his beloved, held up his Nyakil, and announced in a loud, heralding voice. “Lead on, R’ille! With your banners of silver, lead our people to safety. Let the golden banners come after, following their new leader. The emerald banners of Brinn will come last, and protect our retreat!”

He then rushed forward, stole a kiss from R’ille, squeezed her hand, and headed back toward the battle line.

Give him Arazor.

“Brinn, wait!”

He turned.

“Take this,” she implored, and pressed the red wand into his hands. It stung him for a second when it touched him.

“I don’t even know how to use it, R’ille. It looks like you’re the one who was meant to have it,” he said, cocking his head toward the fiery pillar she had created.

“Take it. My Kalláh is telling me that you are to have it. I don’t know why. Maybe it will protect you somehow.”

“Okay; anything for you.” He smiled at her, and stuffed the wand into his right hip boot. He kissed his wife again and moved outward until he disappeared among the others.

R’ille watched him go with sadness. She had the nagging feeling something was going to happen to him. She could ask her Kalláh, but she didn’t want to know the answer. Shaking off the feeling, she turned to the Illuminar around her. “Follow the flames! A way has been opened!”

The other Illuminar raised a shout at R’ille’s words and followed as she led them into the gap in the forest. First went the silver banners of R’ille’s troops. Next, went the lumbering wagons filled with food and other supplies. Behind went the children, followed by the golden banners of the king’s guard. At the back of the host, the emerald banners fanned out to protect the retreat into the trees. Brinn smiled as he watched R’ille’s banners heading down the path. “Shore up that line, Illuminar!” he said as he turned back to the battle.

He smiled as his Nyakil sang. The Illuminar just might survive this day. “Hold fast!” he declared, cheering on his troops, “The grace of Ár-Ádun shines upon us still!”