Chapter 20 #2
And now, as he sat in his town hall planning, the things that he had wished for were coming to fruition.
Finally Eldric Solwyn was dead, and how ironic it was that he had died at the hands of his own grandson.
Barrowhane had died as well. The leadership of the Vanguard was scattered, all of them rushing toward Umbrveyl.
The little that was left of the Covenant were hiding at that school.
He greatly loved that school. He would visit it. He would purge it of all that pretended to be holy, for there were no gods but Death, and Death suffered no pretense.
Mortandagh controlled Elias and shifted his focus back to other matters.
Elias had now walked up to the castle’s grounds.
There was a blue light from the moon, bathing everything in spectral beauty.
And as he stood there on the ground in front of the castle, he was approached by two silhouettes.
Both of them placed their hands on his shoulder.
He was not caught off guard, for he was not in his senses, but he knew who these two were.
“Freya, at long last you’ve come to me. And my best friend Theo. I needed you guys, and I am so glad that you have returned.”
“We would always find our way back to you,” they said in unison.
They, too, were being controlled by Mortandagh. Mortandagh led them all into Umbrveyl.
At this point of the night, Umbrveyl was silent, its halls quiet.
Only Armen was walking about, making sure that order was kept, that students didn’t walk in the courtyard or the hallways. When he saw Elias, he yelped.
“Master Solwyn.”
“Armen. My grandfather is dead,” said Elias. “I need you to summon the faculty in the Great Hall, the students, and everybody from the Covenant and the Vanguard.”
“But, Master Elias, it’s three in the morning.”
“Do it now. There is no time. A war comes our way.”
Elias went to the Great Hall. He looked at the tapestries and the windows and the grand ceiling, and it was Mortandagh again, remembering the time when he was a starry-eyed kid, learning how to levitate, how to teleport, how to make things happen with magic, and just how strong magic was—a power in this world.
Everything inexplicable, everything secret, everything silent was attributed to magic: the falling of the leaves, the raising of the firmament, the constellations, the sun and the moon. Everything was magic.
Mortandagh mused. He guided Elias to where the Sunflame Spear hung. Somebody from the Vanguard had taken it from its usual place and hidden it. Elias groaned.
“Find it,” he said to Freya. “Find it,” he said to Theo, and then he began looking for the thing himself.
While he looked across campus, people began gathering in the Great Hall. Armen came up to him when he was about to step into his grandfather’s office.
“What are you looking for, Master Elias?” he asked.
“I’m looking for the Sunflame Spear. I’m going to wield it to kill Mortandagh. It’s as simple as that.”
“Your grandfather said nobody is to touch the Sunflame Spear.”
“My grandfather is dead,” Elias said.
“I still can’t believe it,” Armen said.
“It is not for you to believe. It is something that has already happened. Now fetch me the Sunflame Spear.”
“Oh, I can’t fetch it. I can’t do magic, Master Elias.”
“Don’t you know where it is?”
“He said that only you would be able to find it when the time came.”
Elias thought about it, and the memories jogged in his mind of the Sunflame Spear as a beacon atop Aladria, the beacon that would light from the tallest tower of Umbrveyl when the time came.
Elias hurried out of the castle and looked at its tallest tower, and there it was at dawn, as the sun’s first rays emerged on the sky, the Sunflame Spear jutting from the top of a tower, catching that light.
Mortandagh did not anticipate what would happen next.
When he guided Elias to take the Sunflame Spear from the tallest tower, he had expected to still retain control of Elias, and yet, after flying to the tallest tower’s roof and putting his hands on the Sunflame Spear, raw holy magic surged through Elias, freeing him from his thrall, and then he realized everything that had happened.
He had killed his own grandfather. He had caused this war.
His friends, Freya and Theo, were being held under the thrall of Mortandagh, and he himself had assembled everyone who still resided in Umbrveyl.
Maybe the tide could still be turned. Maybe he could make a difference now that the Sunflame Spear was in his hands.
He wept at the top of the tower, remembering his grandfather, not able to forgive himself for what he had done, and he wept at the way his country had faltered, and how the Deathless were swarming everywhere.
He remembered what had happened at the Doldrum Isles, and his heart seeped with rage.
There was only one person responsible for all of this, and she, to his knowledge, was still alive.
Lesya Rosefield. He would kill her. He would kill her the moment she stepped foot in the castle, and he knew that she would.
This war—it was going to be the end of them all.
Elias went down after a long time into the Great Hall and stood at the table where the faculty usually ate their lunches and their breakfasts.
“My brothers, my sisters, members of the Vanguard and of the Solignis Covenant. I have grave news, grave news that you might have already heard.” He looked at the crowd.
There was not even a single House Balthazar student here, only those of House Solaris and the faculty at large.
He looked at the familiar faculty members and nodded at them reassuringly before saying the words.
“We can win this. A war is coming our way. Mortandagh needs the spear. He had me under his thrall, and it wasn’t until I had the spear in my hands that I was free from his thrall.
He has done terrible things in this past week.
He has attacked the Doldrum Isles. The prisoners are free, and Barrowhane is dead.
Not only Barrowhane, but my grandfather. ”
Gasps, screams, and cries rang through the audience, but Elias remained quiet.
He scanned the place for signs of Freya and Theo, but could not find them.
Maybe they had absconded. Two more people lost to this madness.
Regardless, he would see what would become of them later.
For now, he was thankful that the touch of the spear upon his skin had freed him from the thrall of Mortandagh.
“What are we going to do? And who killed your grandfather?” Elara Moore said.
“It was the Deathless,” he said. “The Deathless who shattered the building and attacked. It was Mortandagh himself who killed my grandfather in a powerful duel. I was there. I saw it.”