Chapter 15 Forgotten History
Forgotten History
Snaglak surreptitiously stuck his right pointer finger into his right nostril. He snugged it up to his thick knuckle before he ran out of space. He wiggled it around.
“Unless you’re digging for treasure in there, Snaglak, the finger should be removed,” Helgrom said, without turning around to look at him.
How did he do that? He always knew when Snaglak was about to take a sip or two–or ten–directly from the beer taps or was considering sneaking a chicken out of the Dawn in his pants. It wasn’t fair! The dwarf had eyes in the back of his head. That was the only solution to this problem.
Snaglak sighed and removed the finger with a slightly wet sucking sound. Glom came over to sniff it and then licked it vigorously. Snaglak sighed again. He wanted to lick his finger, but now it was covered in Glom juice. Curiosity had him lifting the finger to potentially sniff and lick–
“Put it down, Snaglak. No one needs to see that and imagine what it tastes like,” Helgrom ordered, again without turning around.
They were all huddled behind some large boulders above a city far below them. Except it wasn’t the city that they had all seen through the rift. It wasn’t Illithor. It was the former Draesiwen capital city Xrdatha. But there were no dwarves living there any more.
“I don’t understand this,” Elasha whispered, anxiously fussing with the twin daggers at her belt. “We all saw Illithor through the rift, didn’t we?”
“We did,” Helgrom grunted.
“But this isn’t Illithor! Illithor is nowhere near here, is it?” Elasha gripped the daggers’ hilts.
“It is not. Illithor lies over five days' ride that way.” Helgrom pointed unerringly into the greater darkness over the mountain range where they perched. Again, he didn’t look. He just knew.
Snaglak sighed.
“And the others–Uncle Aquilan, Prince Declan and Lord Neres–aren’t here? You’re sure of that?” she asked for the fifth or sixth time.
“Your own senses should tell you that, Elasha,” Darcassan hissed.
“But if they’re not here then how are we?” She looked between the dwarf and her twin. “Where are they? If the Illithor we saw in the rift was an illusion–”
“It wasn’t an illusion!” Darcassan cried. “I know those rifts led to Illithor. We’ve been waylaid somehow!”
“Waylaid? By who?” Elasha blinked large eyes.
“Night King,” Snaglak said helpfully.
She paled. Darcassan frowned. Helgrom stroked his beard.
“You act as if it is obvious that the Night King would have any knowledge or understanding of our affairs!” Darcassan tossed his head. “I know what the others said but really that’s so unlikely–”
“Vex knows,” Snaglak nodded sagely.
Darcassan’s eyes narrowed. “What would an orc know about the Night King exactly–”
“Keep your voices down. They’ll hear you,” Helgrom growled, still not taking his eyes off the walled dwarven city in the plain down below them.
“What are those things?” Elasha whispered as she looked through the break in the rocks at the scaly winged creatures that soared over the metal towers and silent forges of the Draesiwen.
“Australs,” Helgrom answered. “Don’t let their delicate appearance deceive you.
Those wings are coated in poison. One strike of their claws brings disease that will overtake you in an instant.
And if you touch your allies, they too will come down with it.
Blackened skin. Eyes popping like egg yolks over a hot fire. You dissolve in agony.”
One of the Australs–a dusky blue one–jumped off the impressive wall that surrounded Xrdatha and spread its arms. A thin, skin membrane attached from wrist to ankle and the creature glided in the heated air that was created by the many waterfalls of magma that surrounded the Draesiwen capital.
Snaglak was pretty sure he could hit it if he threw his club, but that would mean he would only have his hands to fight, which would be bad.
Orcs didn’t get sick, but the Australs’ skin hurt to touch.
“Are they the creatures that defeated the Draesiwen and took the city?” Elasha asked, curiosity overcoming her clear dread of being in the Under Dark.
“No,” Helgrom grunted. He hesitated then added, “Or more like, they were part of the horde, but it was not an Austral-led invasion.”
“Didn’t the Night King come himself and strike your ancestors down for betraying him?” Darcassan asked with a bored huff at the end. He had his slender arms crossed over his chest and was tapping his foot.
“No,” Helgrom’s dark eyes flickered to the Aravae for a moment. “You don’t understand at all how the Under Dark works. Yet you were willing to come here and try to pillage it. Typical.”
“The Under Dark has the best weapons,” Darcassan answered, looking as if Helgrom had pulled his tail. If he had a tail.
Snaglak considered pulling Glom’s tail. It swished so near him. Glom narrowed his eyes at Snaglak. Snaglak pretended to be staring at his fingers. The naki narrowed its eyes further.
“At least you know that much, but did you ever wonder why we focused on weapon-craft?” Helgrom lifted a bushy eyebrow at the Aravae.
Snaglak regarded the dwarf. Helgrom had a temper as all dwarves do, but it was usually slow to ignite. Yet it was closer to the surface than usual. Snaglak understood. The scent of old blood and older grief hung heavy around Xrdatha and any Draesiwen who smelt it would remember the cause of both.
Darcassan shrugged. “The races here are violent–”
“Because resources are scarce,” Helgrom interrupted with a tcha at the end.
“But a city like Illithor existing in such a place proves otherwise,” Darcassan insisted pedantically.
Helgrom let out a curse under his breath. “Young one, you must understand that what Vex and Ailduin accomplished was nothing less than a miracle with Illithor.”
“Was Ailduin such a great part of all this? There are no stories told to us of his acts here,” Elasha said.
Helgrom did not respond to that. “The truth of the Under Dark is that there is not enough for everyone. If you are going to survive, you must be prepared to fight for what you need and then to protect what you have. Countless civilizations whose names have disappeared into the annals of time have risen and fallen due to this fact.”
Elasha moved to touch Helgrom’s armored forearm, but stopped herself at the last minute, unsure if it would be welcome. “Like the Draesiwen?”
“Yes… and no.” Helgrom’s mouth moved under the bushy beard. It was unclear whether he would say more.
“I’m sorry. We don’t need to talk about this if it upsets you,” Elasha quickly offered.
Helgrom let his head fall back and he stared up at the twinkling ceiling of the cavern far overhead.
He said nothing for a very long time. But finally, he let out a breath and explained, “The Draesiwen allied with Vex from the very beginning when neither had anything. Through blood and sweat and agony, they carved their respective kingdoms. Together. They fought for each other and that alliance allowed both to flourish. But…” The dwarf rolled his expressive lips together.
“But there came a time when they had to say ‘no’ to the Night King.”
“Because he was asking something of the dwarves that went against their interest? Going against the Sun King, you said before? Supposedly,” Darcassan looked bored.
Snaglak considered urging Glom to bite his butt. Glom was certainly considering it from the look on its scaly face.
“I suppose I should not be surprised at your ignorance,” Helgrom said with a dark look at Darcassan. “Your people have purged all the books of this time from your libraries. Those old enough to talk about it stay mostly silent. Your wish to forget is strong, but truth is stronger.”
“Why would we wish to forget? The Kindreth are our greatest enemy. We should remember all we can about them,” Elasha said with a faint frown. “And there are plenty of books that speak of their atrocities–”
“Aravae and Kindreth friends,” Snaglak said simply.
Her mouth popped open. “Well, I know that’s… I mean if Ailduin for a time–a short time–worked with Vex–”
“More cycles together than apart,” Snaglak contradicted her.
She blinked. “You’re saying–”
“The truth. Aravae and Kindreth were inseparable for far longer than they’ve been apart,” Helgrom cut in.
“But that would mean a whole swath of our history has been obscured! That can’t be true. Can it?” She looked between them all for confirmation.
Her brother’s upper lip curled. “The Glass Scholar and his ilk hide more books than they put on the shelves.”
“They what?!” Elasha’s eyes flashed. “You’re saying he’s purposely hiding things–”
“Things he thinks are dangerous. That the Radiant Council thinks are dangerous,” Darcassan answered. “And maybe it would be in less capable hands or a more narrow mind, but really to keep it from the royal family is absurd!”
“Does Father know?” She tugged anxiously at the collar of her tunic.
“Probably, but he’s not very interested in history.
Well, not this sort. Uncle doesn’t know.
Father said it was… Well, it doesn’t matter.
The orc is surprisingly right about our shared history with the Kindreth,” Darcassan answered.
Then he stomped a foot. “Which makes all of this talk about stealing from Illithor nonsense! Ailduin helped craft that city! Many of the great works–and likely weapons–are his and, therefore, ours!”
“Ailduin and the Aravae lost Illithor,” Helgrom said with a finality that had the twins going quiet.
“You were telling us about why the Draesiwen lost Xrdatha, Helgrom. I”m sorry we got off track,” Elasha said quietly.
Helgrom chewed his inner cheek. “We went against him, because what Vex wished to do would be to destroy everything he had built. It was against the Night King’s own interests. But he was too angry–trying to prove a point–that he would not listen.”
“What point?” Darcassan frowned.