Dark Lord's Commands 2, page 4
The power of Alruna had weakened, and I could feel the cosmic blessing of Revina filling the air, bringing cool relief to the overwhelming heat. Vexile kept praying, while Nichessa hammered at the Spear, reshaping it with strength and willpower.
Closing my eyes, I reached out with my magic, adding my power to hers, bolstering Nichessa lest she flag at the last moment.
With a triumphant cry, she lifted the reforged weapon from her anvil and plunged it into a nearby water trough meant for quelching. Despite the Spear’s now dark appearance, it instantly evaporated the water, filling the air with mist.
Coughing, I went and opened the back door to the shop, letting some fresh air in.
“My finest work yet,” Nichessa crowed, standing before the anvil, the reforged weapon raised overhead.
The Spear of Subjugation was no more. Its elegant silver whirls and needle-sharp point had been replaced by a wing of inky darkness; the spearhead had become a long curve of metal that swept back, like a scimitar’s blade. Nebulous trails of darkness drifted off its edge, like a deadly miasma.
For a second I longed to hold the new weapon, but instinctively I knew it was not meant for me.
Nichessa slammed the butt of the swordspear down and presented it to Vexile. “I told you I’d make you a spear, but I think this is a more appropriate weapon for you. Don’t you agree?”
My First Queen took up her new weapon; it fit in her hands perfectly, as if it had been destined for her.
Confidently, she raised it above her head, the wood and metal singing with Revina’s might. “I shall name it Liberation, for it shall be the tool for our people’s freedom!”
Liberation proved to be a weapon as powerful as its name suggested. Vexile found that she could use it as a focus for her poison magic, allowing her to conjure clouds of noxious gas or hurl bolts of toxic venom much further than she could unaided.
She began training with the weapon religiously, and when she did I could almost feel an aura of Revina’s magic surrounding her, like a dark shroud.
The people were ecstatic when we revealed Liberation to them a few days later. Vexile ran through a demonstration, showing off her new martial and magical prowess as she dissolved several scrub-grass stuffed targets made up to look like Luminark soldiers.
Sadly, it was not all rousing news. Garnet, one of Dougherty’s soldiers, came to Gloomglow shortly after the demonstration to report that more Luminark investigators were at the remains of the black iron mines. Worse, they had come with search parties and were combing the foothills outside the camp, and there was every indication that their search would go further inland than before.
Gloomglow was situated in the middle of a plateau on the southern edge of the old kingdom, three days' hard travel east of the mines. The difficult terrain had kept Luminark investigators from coming closer, but if they were willing to brave the foothills to our west, it was entirely possible that they’d eventually come to Gloomglow.
And if they did, we’d either be forced to flee our homes or fight.
I called a council a week later, summoning Captain Dougherty and Garnet, along with Riggs, our head hunter, and Ahkil, the lead acolyte of Revina’s temple. We convened in the old warehouse I had converted into my headquarters. The walls of the room contained maps of the region, charts and schedules of the various patrols and shipments the Luminark ran along the coastal roads, and notes on their troop numbers and armaments.
Captain Dougherty was an old soldier, the vigours of youth giving way to grey. But he still carried himself with a dignity and strength that inspired confidence in all those that served under him.
Garnet, on the other hand, was young; I guessed that she was barely into her twenties. She had truly grown into her own over the past year, becoming a skilled soldier and second for the watchtower’s captain.
Both of them were wearing the rust-colored uniforms that had become synonymous with duty and watchfulness in Duskhaven reborn.
“If they find this place, they’ll slaughter everyone,” Dougherty told the assembled group.
I knew he was right, we all did. There was no question that the Luminark possessed overwhelming strength. We were a refugee kingdom of roughly three hundred souls.
But it still hurt to hear.
“We could bleed them dry in the plains,” Riggs countered, “ambush them, set traps. Anyone they send this way would just disappear. We could probably even make their deaths look like accidents.”
The old soldier shook his head. “The Luminark inquisitors don’t work like that. If someone kills one of their investigators, they’ll comb the area till they find the cause.”
Riggs looked like he was going to argue further, so I knocked on the tabletop in front of us, bringing everyone’s eyes to me.
“Captain Dougherty is right,” I said, doing my best to sound cold and clinical. “At this point, we cannot fight, we simply lack the strength of arms.”
“But you don’t mean to just abandon everything we’ve accomplished?” Rigg’s looked distraught.
“Of course not,” I consoled him, “but we must be prepared to relocate if needed, even temporarily, in case the Luminark investigators come this far onto the plateau.”
They must be searching for the escaped prisoners, I reasoned.
We had left plenty of Luminark dead in the wake of our attack on the mines, but we had freed the Duskhaven prisoners and brought them back to Gloomglow.
At the time, we had hoped the Luminark would merely write them off; they had never bothered to chase the slaves who had escaped to the north before. But the sheer number of people we had rescued had likely sparked their concern.
“We are loath to consider leaving Gloomglow, even temporarily, but we have a greater responsibility to the people under our care,” I told everyone. “We should make preparations to relocate to the east, to Vilewind, should the need arise.”
Vexile nodded, “We have cleared the burrowing predators from the ruins. We can lay supplies in hiding there, in the event we are forced to evacuate our people.”
After that, things fell into a conversation about logistics; how much we could afford to lay away in Vilewind, how much we’d need there to survive, and what efforts it would take to transport and conceal our supplies. I deputized Ahkil and Riggs to oversee these matters, organizing the effort through Revina’s temple.
Afterward, I worked with Dougherty to schedule regular patrols along the western edge of the plateau, so we could at least have forewarning if the investigators got close to our home.
I don’t think any of us were happy with the decisions we made, nobody wanted to even think about giving up Gloomglow, but they needed to be made just the same. The hardest choices always fell to those willing to take responsibility for them.
I will find a way to overcome this, I swore to myself. I had seen how hard our people had struggled to build Gloomglow and I vowed that they would not be forced to give up their homes.
It was late by the time the meeting broke up. I asked Nichessa and Vexile to stay behind, the three of us crowding around the head of the table.
“We need more ascendants,” I said flatly.
I had already spoken to them about my concerns. The most recent news only hammered home how much we needed far more power than we possessed. Power was the central pillar of rule, as taught by Machiavelli, and we were far too weak to defy the empire with what resources we had.
Nichessa, who had sat silent during most of the meeting, frowned. “I’ve been thinking about it since you spoke about it to us on our return trip from Vilewind, but I haven’t come up with any ideas.”
I knew she felt stymied since she also hadn’t been able to create any other artifact weapons like Liberation. While she had some success creating smaller, blessed objects, forging another weapon equal to the Spears’ caliber had eluded her.
We only had a limited variety of material to work with, mostly the black iron we had taken from Sanderson’s mine. She had done some experiments with the metal but found that while it made stupendous tools, she could not shape it to hold the sheer amount of divine energy necessary.
Even tests with the small amounts of silver we had access to proved unsuccessful. We quickly came to realize whatever materials had been used to build the base weapon Liberation had been reforged from, they were not mundane wood and metal.
If we wanted to make more weapons blessed by Revina, we would need to either seize and reforge more Spears of Subjugation or discover the secrets of their creation.
Vexile tapped a finger upon the desktop, thinking. But before I could ask her what was on her mind, she bolted from the room.
Nichessa and I traded confused glances, but Vexile returned a moment later, a small book clutched to her chest.
“I haven’t had much time to study the books and papers we retrieved from Vilewind,” she said as she caught her breath. “I deputized Ahkil to read through them, to see if there was anything of immediate use to us, but for the most part they concern medical alchemy, which we know nothing about.”
My people were experienced workers and craftsmen since the Luminark had used them to build their empire, erecting their cathedrals, fortresses, and factories. But there were certain areas where employing Duskhaven slaves had been forbidden, including the medical field. We sorely lacked expertise beyond the first-aid and battlefield mending practiced by Dougherty and those that had served as auxiliary soldiers.
Another problem we will see addressed, I promised myself, adding it to the growing list.
“But she did pull out this one book, showing it to me right before the meeting.” Vexile laid it on the table, “She actually wanted to use it as a primer for our reading classes.”
Its leather cover was dark black. Embossed on the front it said, The Dark Lord Protects.
“It’s a children’s book,” I marveled as I opened it up, seeing the colorful illustrations and simple sentences pooling across the pages.
There were pictures of men and women who wore crowns of stars and capes of sable darkness. They stood proud and tall, defending the smaller people huddling behind them from all manner of angelic-looking enemies.
The Dark Lords of old, my ancestors, I noted, my fingers hovering above the pictures.
“From what Ahkil could determine, this book is far, far older than the other ones we found, it had been preserved by the library’s magic. She thinks it might have been printed shortly after Duskhaven was established.” Vexile flipped the book to the last page, where someone had scrawled in a name and date.
The text was barely legible, likely written by a child. But if it was correct, the book was nearly eight hundred years old by Turmont reckoning.
“This is fascinating,” Nichessa said flatly, “but what’s it have to do with our current problems?”
Vexile gave her a smirk before opening the book to the middle pages. “Read this.”
Leaning in, I saw there was a two-page illustration, depicting a female Dark Lord surrounded by several ascendants. Behind them were rows upon rows of knights, warriors, and wizards, all of them glowing with the same cosmic power as the ascendants.
In the Dark Lord’s hands was a round stone, which glimmered with countless stars and nebulas.
“The Dark Lords protect their people,” I said, reading the text below the image. “With Revina’s blessing and the Eye of Night, they shall win against all foes.”
“Eye of Night?” Nichessa uttered, squinting.
Vexile flipped the page.
The same Dark Lord stood in front of a huge, black throne, the same stone in her hands. Kneeling below was a knight, clad in ebon armor. A ray of starlight was radiating from the stone, illuminating the kneeling warrior. Cosmic power shrouded them, blessing them.
“The Eye of Night, treasure of Nightbound, is a promise made real,” I read. “As long as it remains in the Dark Lords’ hands, our kingdom will never lack for champions.”
“Nightbound?” I repeated.
“The capital of the old kingdom,” Vexile said in reverent tones, “the original home of the Dark Lords.”
Chapter 4
I couldn’t rest after that, so instead, I wandered the keep’s grounds, thinking.
Vexile, Nichessa, and I had discussed the book’s revelations, but we came up with no definitive plan of action.
My First Queen had been all for creating an expedition to the old capital to retrieve the stone. Nichessa had suggested caution, arguing that we couldn’t rush off on a risky mission based on the words of a children’s book.
“Besides, there’s every chance that even if this Eye of Night exists, it was stolen by the Luminark,” she said tiredly. “It’s possible the thing has been used as a doorstop in the Grand Luminark Cathedral for the past two hundred years.”
I knew she was right, that we needed to be realistic, but the idea of the ancient artifact haunted me. It seemed like the perfect solution to our problem; a way of creating as many ascendants as we needed. I tried to think of another possible fix, some other answer to our lack of power, but I kept coming up blank.
Thinking of divine providence, my wandering feet eventually brought me to the temple of Revina.
The last year had seen the temple rebuilt, its roof restored and the holes in its floor patched and fixed. The window arches, which had once held stained glass, were still empty, but that night found them filled with the majestic spread of the cosmos; Revina’s temple was illuminated by brilliant swathes of stars.
Ahkil, late at her prayers, was kneeling by the altar. She made to rise as I approached, but I waved for her to continue her benedictions.
I took a seat on the cold stones in front of the altar and removed the circlet from my head. The red gemstone in the middle was made from my blood, crystallized during the ceremony that had seen me elevated to Dark Lord.
Running my finger over the gemstone, I looked up at the remains of the statue behind the altar.
Once, it had been a huge, jet-black sculpture of Revina. The Luminark invaders had desecrated it, reducing it to just a pair of sandal-clad feet shattered above the ankles. I had pledged to rebuild it someday, but like our ascendant problem, that goal remained out of reach.
Sighing, I bowed my head and closed my eyes. I wasn’t much for prayer; even with indisputable evidence that the goddess existed, I could not fully devote myself to her as Vexile did. Maybe I’m just too much of a cynic.
So I did my best to clear my mind, to push aside all my fears and concerns and just drift, hoping some kind of divine inspiration would speak to me again, as it had before.
The air grew even colder as the night drew on, and the barely audible whispers of Ahkil’s prayers flitted at the edge of my hearing. I strained to let all my thoughts go, something that was unnatural to me. Back in my old life, on Earth, my days had been filled by nothing but political strategies, legislation, and constituent requests.
My life on Turmont was different; I was focused on helping our people overcome their day-to-day struggles. I didn’t have the luxury of distance brought about by cell phones, the internet, or opinion polls. Working side by side with our people had brought about a fierce sense of protectiveness in me; I would do anything to keep them safe.
Despite my best efforts, that thought kept coming up. My love for Vexile and Nichessa, my desire to see our people thrive and prosper, and the illustrated image of the Eye of Night kept interrupting my attempts to find balance.
Sighing out of frustration, I decided to get up and go to bed. But when I stood, I found I was no longer in the temple I knew. Instead, I had once again been carried to Gloomglow’s past, when the temple had stood whole and majestic.
The interior was lit by a series of torches, each of them holding bright, blue flames. The stained glass windows were there, and vivid murals ran along the walls, depicting the Dark Lords and the ascendant champions who had carried out the goddess of night’s will.
But my eyes were locked on the enormous statue that stood behind the altar. As in my vision the night I was crowned, it had been restored to its former glory. Revina’s figure stared down at me, her face hidden by the curtain of her hair.
The statue breathed, its shoulder shifting slightly as it silently regarded me.
“Goddess,’ I croaked, finding my voice.
Slowly, she raised one of her arms. But instead of pointing at me, as she had before, she gestured towards the rear of the temple.
I felt the world blur around me. By the time I finished turning around, the temple was gone. Instead, I found myself in some grant hall built from onyx and silver. A throne, solid and black as night, stood at the far end of the room. Tapestries, woven from silk and gold, hung from the walls.
Distantly, I could hear the screams of battle and the sounds of people crying out in fear.
Before the throne stood a young woman. As I approached her, I saw something familiar in the planes of her face, the way she held herself. As she raised her head, I realized where I recognized her from.
From the mirror.
The shape of the nose and cheeks were different, and her hair was far darker than mine would ever grow, but the resemblance was there just the same. I was looking at some distant ancestor, a forgotten figure from my bloodline.
A Dark Lord of old.
As she looked up, I realized she wasn’t seeing me. I was the ghost in that scene, not her.
Hearing footsteps, I looked back and saw a knight was approaching. When she raised her visor I saw the armored woman was barely older than the Dark Lord. Blood and soot streaked her face, and her expression was grim.
“Dark Lord,” the knight knelt, “they’ve breached the Courts and are attacking the palace. We’re doing what we can to stall them, but it’s only a matter of time.”
A beam of light, blinding and bright, burst outside.
The Dark Lord nodded, then gestured for the knight to rise.
“You have served my family well, Augusta,” she said, her voice strained. “But there is one more, terrible duty that I must put on your shoulders.”
