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‘He was tasked to find the Amayans. Vortimo is where they are trapped. Toryn is strong and can offer some protection to his companions. But his proximity to that place presents another problem. I can no longer sense his presence, and therefore unable to assist.’ Nyomae turned back to Elodi. ‘But this is not the reason I called you here.’ She placed her palm upon a stone in the wall and muttered beneath her breath. The wall moved.

Cool air rushed through the gap into Elodi’s face. ‘Am I to assume this is why?’

‘Partly.’ Nyomae took a torch from the wall to reveal a steep stairwell leading down. ‘There were rumors of a hidden vault in Abernost, but Sylvena dismissed them as frivolous chatter.’ She ducked through the gap. ‘I will go first to light your way.’ Her voice echoed. ‘But as you can see, Sylvena was wrong, and not for the first time.’

Elodi joined her on the top step as Nyomae whispered another command to seal the doorway behind. ‘And was it Draegelan’s scroll that led you here?’

‘Eventually. The writing was somewhat obscure, but for a reason.’ Nyomae continued with her story as they descended the narrow, winding stairs. ‘Draegelan was wary of anyone stumbling across his musings so did not make it easy. But he has eventually led me here.’ She smiled. ‘Not to mention with a little help from the Maidens and Nym’.

‘I’m intrigued.’

‘As still am I. I believe I’m the first to enter this place since his passing.’

Elodi looked down. ‘These stairs were certainly not made for ease of access.’

‘Precisely. And not built by stonemasons, but by those wanting to keep this vault a secret. It was here before the Seat of Learning was established. I believe Draegelan sanctioned the building of Abernost on this spot because of this vault. And he named it after Aber, an Imaari who made a vital discovery that may be our salvation… or lead to our downfall.’ Elodi went to ask, but Nyomae seemed keen to press on. They arrived at the foot of the stairs. Nyomae’s torch appeared to dim and cast no light beyond her face. She touched Elodi’s arm. ‘Stand still for a moment.’ She waved her palm and doused the flame.

Elodi blinked in the dark. She gasped. ‘The walls! They glow.’ The air warmed as a golden light illuminated a long hall with curved walls and a low ceiling just a few feet above their heads. She ran her hands along the smooth wall. ‘Is this glass? What causes it to shine? I did not know we had such skill.’

Nyomae smiled. ‘We don’t. This was not built by our hands. This is the work of the Elorym.’

Elodi gaped as the light spread to reveal a space twice the size of the Great Hall of Archonholm. ‘Our long dead ancestors?’

‘Long dead, yes, but not the ancestors of most. Although yours, and perhaps partly mine.’ Elodi frowned. Nyomae continued. ‘I believe the Amayans are descended from the Elorym. And my kind, through our studies, may retain some of their ability to hear and use the power in the Song.’

Nyomae led Elodi towards a small, wooden desk and a single chair at the center of the hall. ‘This is where Draegelan spent his days before struck down by sickness.’ She pulled out the chair and offered it to Elodi. ‘Apologies. You have ridden hard to answer my call. Please sit.’ She picked up a jug from the desk and poured a glass of water for Elodi. Nyomae sighed. ‘I have to admit I felt a sense of pride to sit in Draegelan’s seat.’

Elodi gladly accepted the offer. ‘If only sitting in his chair could impart his knowledge and power upon us.’

‘In a way it may do just that. I have learned much from the Elorym. Much that is painful to learn… but learn it I must.’ Nyomae perched on the desk. ‘Now. Where to start. You recall I told you of Sylvena. Against both mine and Idraman’s wishes, she went north in search of a relic which we later learned was a trap.’

Elodi placed down her glass. ‘And you know what this relic is?’

‘Alas, Sylvena was deceived. She believed it to be a source of power that would aid us. I don’t know where she came upon such knowledge as she did not reveal it to the Order. But she made an error in her interpretation of the Verse, one of Ormoroth’s Verses at that. The relic was a great iron pillar, known as the Angorlith.’ Nyomae’s hand ran across the scroll. ‘According to the archives it was set by Ormoroth, fashioned to despoil the heartbeat of the land.’

Elodi watched the light reflecting on the water in her glass. ‘And where is this pillar?’

‘The legends say it is set deep beneath the tallest mountain in the land.’

‘Caranach may be the highest peak in the known land, but there is another. I once heard tales of a gigantic mountain crowned with a fortress of ice, thousands of feet tall.’ Nyomae shuddered. ‘I remember its name: Vorkirik. It’s far to the north where it is said the Evil One sat upon his throne. While I’m uncertain whether that is true, the Nym revealed Ormoroth cast the Angorlith in a great furnace beneath Vorkirik.’

‘And this iron pillar corrupts the Song to this day?’

‘Fortunately, the Elorym perceived its forging, thus set the seven stones of the Amanach to counter its corruption. As the Elorym suffered in their wars with Ormoroth, they saw fit to assign a force to protect the stones.’

Elodi’s scalp tingled. ‘The Amayans.’

‘Indeed. Your ancestors were great warriors trained by the masters of Elorym lore. But the seven stones are now six, and their power appears to be in decline. The Amayans draw sustenance from the stones, so your powers also wane. Their location was hidden from the mortal world, yet now our guards stumble upon them by accident. Uluriel, through the Archon, was able to locate the stone at the Wend Pass. Toryn witnessed its end. If we lose more, our enemy will grow yet stronger while we become weaker.’

‘And what of your kind? Are you also descended from the Elorym?’

Nyomae nodded. ‘I believe that is so. As the Elorym came to accept their fate, they formed the Amayans and the Imaari. The Amayans to protect the stones; the Imaari to resist the corruption within the Song. In their wisdom, the Elorym divided our powers. Thus, it would not be such a blow if either an Amayan or an Imaari fell to the enemy.’

‘Wise indeed.’ Elodi looked about the hall. ‘And what became of the Elorym?’

‘Let me show you.’ Nyomae stood. ‘It will aid us in our battles to come if we know of our collective past.’ She led Elodi to a bed beside the wall. ‘Here. A small comfort Draegelan allowed himself. It may be best if you lie down. The fate of the Elorym is a little distressing.’

Elodi opened her eyes. She rose slowly from the bed. The tears she shed for the plight of the Elorym had dried on her face. She stared at Nyomae in the golden light. ‘Is all lost? What chance do we have if the might of the Elorym could not resist Ormoroth and his warlocks.’

Nyomae sighed. ‘We can be thankful Ormoroth remains banished from this realm. But even without him, his forces pose a serious threat.’

‘Can we use the power of the Elorym?’

Nyomae sat beside her. ‘Ah. Now we come to why I called you here. I have learned how to access the depths of the Song previously beyond my reach. I can now see deeper into the past, and to places farther afield. But I get ahead of myself. Aber, the man this place honors, found a curious Verse within the Song. It became known as Aber’s Verse, but at the time it was perhaps more in jest than respect. In his later years, Draegelan devoted much time to its study. And I have found what he learned… and I have come to appreciate why he chose to conceal that knowledge here.’

‘Then it is a power you are reluctant to use?’

‘To a certain degree. But I believe I can safely deploy some of his knowledge that could aid our fight.’ Nyomae looked to the ceiling. She took a breath. ‘I have discovered the means to determine the Maidens’ Name of the lesser of our adversaries.’

Elodi gasped. ‘Does this mean…?’

‘I could cast them from this world.’

Elodi released Nyomae’s hand. ‘But if the Maidens know the names of every living being, could they not have exiled Ormoroth?’

‘Alas, they could only create, not destroy. And the dark creatures such as droogs and aralaks fashioned by evil ways, possess no such name. But once the Song was corrupted, the means to unmake is now open to others. But I fear to invoke this power against the likes of Uluriel. To utter the Maidens’ Name of one so powerful could open a gateway to the oldest parts of the Song, and possibly even the Great Void. If I falter, my enemy could drag me down with them. That would be a risk I’d be willing to take if I could remove Uluriel from this realm. But… that is not the only danger. Opening the gateway works both ways. I could, with the slightest mistake, make it possible for Ormoroth to return. Invoking a Maidens’ Name comes with great danger. It is not an act I would use unless all else has failed.’

Elodi’s shoulders sagged. ‘That is not a risk worth taking. But what of Uleva and Uldrak, and perhaps Dorlan? I have no doubt Dorlan will lead their armies south.’ She looked away. ‘And the thought of facing him on the battlefield is not conducive to a good night’s sleep. And this time I will have no walls to hide behind… for what that was worth.’

Nyomae placed her hand on Elodi’s. ‘I may have found a way to confront Dorlan without citing his Maidens’ Name. I have ventured as far back to Dorlan’s Verse at Talaghir.’

Elodi’s eyes widened. ‘How is this possible?’

‘Draegelan discovered the key to using the power of the Elorym contained in this hall. I have located the final moments of that tragic battle. Draegelan was right. Ormoroth did indeed recite the Verse of Unmaking, as did I at Gormadon. But the fire was great within Dorlan that day. He survived where all others fell. But for reasons I cannot fully understand, Dorlan’s years were extended by Ormoroth’s action. Perhaps his Verses in the Song were altered, and his fate changed. But I cannot fathom how this occurred.’

Elodi grasped Nyomae’s arm. ‘You have seen this? Dorlan’s legend is the foundation of Harlyn’s strength, or its faith in its strength, no matter how weak we are today. Is it true? Was Dorlan as strong as the legend’s tell.’

Nyomae smiled. ‘Your legends do not do Dorlan justice. The scribe who accompanied Draegelan wrote of the last time she beheld Dorlan shortly before he went into battle… and what would be his final moments of glory. Something within him connected with the power contained in the Song like no Imaari had ever achieved. I’m sure even Ormoroth must have quailed when he set eyes upon Dorlan at Talaghir.’ Nyomae paused. ‘It is a tale of triumph, bitter defeat, and ultimately, tragedy.’ She stood. ‘Perhaps it best I show you. The power in this Elorym hall allows me to take you into his final Verses.’ She reached forward. ‘May I?’

Elodi nodded. ‘Please. I have seen Dorlan in his sorry state possessed by Uleva. I would dearly love to see him as the true hero, Harlyn holds him to be.’

‘You are strong, Elodi, but if what you see becomes too painful, raise your hand and I will bring you back.’ Nyomae touched Elodi’s temple. The room faded as if a fog descended.

Dorlan sat tall on his mighty steed, Draego. The Knight of Calerdorn’s eyes shone as he searched the north for signs of Ormoroth. Dorlan was great in stature, greater than the portraits depicted, and taller than the pitiful shell of a man who had confronted Elodi at the gates of her city. Ormoroth’s bitter wind battered into the armies pursuing him. Yet Dorlan and Draego rode through the assault, leading a vast force across the ice that packed the Draegelan Trench. As they ventured deeper into Nordruuk, Ormoroth grew ever more despairing as Dorlan gained ground on his depleted legions. Desperate to avoid Dorlan’s wrath, Ormoroth whipped up the storms and drove a howling gale, thick with shards of ice at the advancing knights. But Dorlan laughed in the face of the threat. He threw out his arms and yelled lines from an unknown Verse into the vortex. The winds ceased, and the ice fell from the air to land harmlessly at Draego’s hooves. When Ormoroth could retreat no farther, Dorlan saw his time had come.

Elodi watched in awe as the great knight led twenty thousand knights onto the ice of Talaghir. The ground trembled at their coming, and not even the great beasts who had served Ormoroth through the centuries, could stand before Dorlan that day. The swirling, dark form of Ormoroth withdrew to the rear and surrounded himself with the last of his warlocks. But as Dorlan moved to end the battle, Ormoroth struck. The battlefield erupted. All perished in a searing, white flash.

The fog lifted. The golden light of the Elorym glass eased Elodi’s return. She sat, blinking away tears of pain. ‘Such a tragic loss. I cannot imagine a greater force for good could ever have been assembled, before or after the Seven Realms. And all were lost?’

Nyomae sighed. ‘Those of my Order riding with Dorlan, died, and their Verses remain hidden. The Imaari who later discovered the devastation, believed Ormoroth was banished the moment he completed his utterance of those vile Verses. But I do not know by what device that was achieved. Perhaps, as Dorlan’s strength surpassed all others that day, it was by his hand he cast Ormoroth into the Great Void. Or, another force intervened, but I would not hazard a guess. But if you can bear it, I can show you what my ancestors found on arriving at Talaghir.’

Elodi closed her eyes. ‘That I must. If I am to ride against the remnants of Ormoroth’s armies, I should know the wiles of our enemy, no matter how painful.’ Nyomae obliged.

Elodi stood at the edge of a crater, so wide she could not see the opposite rim. At her back, ice and snow covered the plain. Before her, fragments of splintered armor and discarded weapons scattered the bare rock. Far to the north, the wind wailed. But this was not a gale of Ormoroth’s making. Cries of anguish echoed across the desolate land. Elodi was certain she heard the Maidens lament the fall of Dorlan. Their distress rose, accompanied by the shattering screams of their agony and torment.

‘Please. Enough.’ Elodi brushed Nyomae’s hand away. ‘I can’t bear to hear their grief.’ Her head fell into her hands, and she wept for Dorlan and the plight of the Maidens.

Nyomae placed her arm around Elodi’s shaking shoulders. ‘Their grief, Elodi? Who did you hear?’

‘It had to be the Maidens. It came from the top of the world, far to the north. They wailed for Dorlan. It had to be them.’

Nyomae’s eyes widened. ‘Then you have heard more than I.’ Her hand rested on Elodi’s knee. ‘I must apologize. Had I known, I would not have subjected you to that ordeal.’

‘There’s no need. I had to know what happened.’ Elodi looked at Nyomae. ‘You did not hear the Maidens? Did I imagine it?’

‘No, it must be your Amayan blood. This confirms you to be of direct descent from the Elorym. You have a bond with the Maidens. That explains why you, and not I, heard them.’

Elodi collapsed back onto the bed. ‘Then the tales do not represent the extent of the Maidens’ suffering.’ Her hands shook. ‘But I don’t believe we have the words to portray their woe. If this Evil One can inflict such suffering upon the gods’ daughters, he must remain entombed to the end of time. To fight the Ul-dalak presents a challenge almost beyond us, and if Ormoroth returns, it would take a miracle to resist him. But if somehow, the Evil One is freed…’ Elodi stood. ‘I need some air.’ Nyomae rose. Elodi raised her hand. ‘If you don’t mind, I would prefer to be alone for a while. Perhaps we can continue this afternoon…’

Elodi stood upon the balcony of Abernost’s Round Tower, but the warmth of the midday sun failed to ease her anxiety. The peaks of the Caerwal Mountains peered over the horizon far to the south. She made no attempt to use her farsight, preferring to remain oblivious of events in the wider world for the time being. Below, the grasslands of Holm shone green in the sunlight. The road wound its way through the gentle hills, yet Elodi took no comfort from the wonder of the Maidens’ making. Was this all an illusion? Would the beauty formed by the Song of Creation be but a fleeting moment of order in an otherwise cruel, chaotic world?

Elodi placed her hands on the cool stone rail and let the tears flow.

‘Please drink.’ Nyomae held out a glass of dark liquid. ‘It’s an old recipe of my father’s. He made it when the children of my village mocked me for talking to animals.’ She smiled. ‘It always helped, but whether it’s due to the blend of herbs, or my faith in him, I cannot tell.’

Elodi clasped her hands around the glass. ‘He sounds a wise and thoughtful man. Did you inherit your powers from him or your mother?’

Nyomae’s eyes wandered to the glass walls of the Elorym hall. ‘While he was a clever and much-read man, my blessing… or curse, came from my mother’s side. But she never served the Order. My mother died while I was still young, and therefore never had the chance to explain why I could do things others could not. I was eight when I came to realize I was different to the other children. Until then, I had assumed everyone could hear and see the pictures that came into my head.’

‘How did your mother die?’

‘From an illness that struck down many in our region. But it was not the Winter Fever, this one appeared in summer. Healers from Elmarand came to our village but failed to find a cure. I was in awe of them. We were only a four-day cart ride from the city, but to a young girl they seemed to be from a distant, magical land. But their potions failed to ease the pain of the fever’s victims, let alone prevent their passing.’ Nyomae’s head bowed. ‘If you caught it, you died. But as quickly as it struck, it disappeared, leaving many dead in its wake. Years later, I spent time in Elmarand searching the archives for other such occurrences but found nothing.’

Elodi finished her drink. ‘We all know the dreadful stories of the poisoned earth that delayed our recovery following the Archon’s victory. Did you suspect foul play?’

Nyomae thought for a moment. ‘At first. But why my village? Was my mother the intended victim?’ She shrugged. ‘Or perhaps it was determined by the gods’ roll of a dice.’ She nodded to Elodi’s empty glass. ‘Did that help?’

‘I believe it has. It must be your father’s herbal concoction, or… this time it’s my belief in you. We may never know.’

Nyomae took the glass. ‘Perhaps there are some things best left as a mystery.’

Elodi sighed. ‘So. Back to our present woes. Is there anything you have learned from Dorlan’s demise that may aid us in our current predicament?’ She grimaced. ‘But this time, perhaps it’s best you tell and don’t show me.’

‘A wise precaution. But even my words may cause distress. Dorlan’s life after Talaghir is not an easy tale to hear.’

‘I imagine not. What transpired after achieving what must be the greatest feat by a mortal, to that sorry state of Dohl in the wood, must be a dreadful state of events.’

Nyomae sat. ‘Indeed. After Ormoroth was banished, Dorlan wandered the ice plains of Nordruuk, alone, lost and broken. After many years of a bleak existence, he stumbled upon a Ruuk settlement. But he was sadly mistaken if he thought his life would improve. The Ruuk enslaved him, exploiting the physical strength Dorlan yet retained. Of the duties he was forced to perform for them, I will not tell, for his humiliation was complete. But suffice to say, being a man of the south was enough to seal his fate in Nordruuk. He outlived all who oppressed him, living beyond the limits any ordinary mortal could bear.’

Nyomae poured herself a glass of her father’s potion. ‘How he continued to survive in such terrible circumstances is testament to the man’s resolve. If, like me, his memory began to return, it would only serve to add to his misery. The Ruuk are sly folk, they appeared to know how to mistreat a man to keep them in serfdom, breaking them down so only a shell remains. If events had unfolded otherwise, he may have been granted the release of death, thus bringing an end to his untold years of suffering. But then, either by chance or design, the large man of the south became known to Uluriel. Exhausted by his centuries of a miserable existence, Uluriel found it easy to finally break his damaged spirit. She possessed him, no doubt goaded him and having her fun, then handed him over to Uleva in Durran Wood. There, the poor man continued to suffer and serve as Dohl… until Toryn was brought to one of his cells. Whether it was something about Toryn’s presence, or a vestige of Dorlan’s lingering memory, Toryn recalled an occasion when Dohl appeared to have a moment of clarity. And, of course, you soon came to witness the power Dohl still held within his body.’

Elodi’s heart ached at the suffering of Harlyn’s legend. ‘Such an appalling tale. I dearly hope his true spirit did not witness his role in the taking of Calerdorn.’

‘Alas, I believe the way of the Ul-dalak would be to grant him that torment.’ Nyomae’s eyes glinted in the golden light. ‘But I hope to release him from his plight. If a part of him remains true, I believe I can free Dorlan from the grip of the Ul-dalak.’

Elodi’s fists clenched. ‘Could he be restored to his former glory?’

‘I am afraid not. The power of the Ul-dalak has sustained his life, thus if I can remove the moment of his possession within his Verse, it will bring about a rapid end to his long, and of late, miserable existence.’

‘Ah. That is a great shame. What I wouldn’t give to have Dorlan riding at our side as he was in his days with Draegelan. Yet, if he continues to fight for the Ul-dalak, our chances of victory remain but a forlorn hope. But how can you release him from the grip of Uleva?’

Nyomae drained her glass. ‘I will need to be close, close enough to have access to him and his Verses.’

Elodi patted her sword. ‘Then I imagine that would be when we inevitably face our enemies on the battlefield.’

Nyomae rubbed her tired eyes. ‘I have more studies to complete, but I believe the Elorym’s knowledge will show me how to engage Dorlan’s uncorrupt spirit. If this can be done, the part of the man who remains true may side with me. With the right preparation, I can remove Uluriel’s curse, and ultimately Uleva’s hold over the man. But it will be fraught with danger. If Uluriel senses I have entered the Verse when she broke Dorlan, she will come. I will face her at a time when my physical body will be in peril on the battlefield. My soul would be banished should my mortal self be killed while I am present in the Song.’

‘Then we will do all we can to shield you. I shall appoint the best of my knights to the task. If you’re successful, defeating Dorlan will save many lives.’ Elodi held Nyomae’s determined gaze. ‘If this can be done for Dorlan, would it be possible to free Uluriel and those who fell at Gormadon?’

‘Again, it would be a challenge. But even if both Uldrak and Uleva are present at the coming battle, I doubt I will have the strength following my efforts with Dorlan. It may also prove harder. Neither Elsaya nor Dormarl were as strong as Dorlan. The Ul-dalak’s curse has a total hold over them, and while I fear there may still be a part of them that sees through their eyes, they may be unable to assist if I venture into their Verses.’

‘But there still remains the hope?’

Nyomae looked to the desk. ‘Perhaps. How long do you envisage before we see an all-out attack from the north?’

Elodi was reluctant for her thoughts to leave the Elorym hall. ‘There is more activity east of the mountains. I have moved to secure the Kolossos Pass, but knowing our enemy, the activity in Lunn could be a ruse. But if we can hold onto the pass, we can allocate our scant resources quicker and where needed.’

Nyomae picked up the scroll and slipped it into her pocket. ‘I expect the main thrust will come down the east side of the Kolossos. Uluriel and her kin desire access to the secrets of Telamir Tower. She knows it yet holds power of the Elorym, and the key to the last line of Aber’s Verse. And when she’s got what she needs, I believe she will attempt to destroy both Telamir and Syris.’

Elodi stood. ‘Then we must ensure we, at the very least, hamper their progress. But to achieve that, we need every hand in the realms that can wield a sword. It may be a while yet before Bardon and the Elites are fit to ride, but they’re desperately needed. Bardon will perhaps never fully recover, but it won’t stop him offering his service. I shall return to Caermund to speak with him. His council will be invaluable.’

Nyomae took Elodi’s hand. ‘I will have to be situated close to the front line if I am to end Dorlan’s misery. But despite my newfound powers, I’m as vulnerable to an arrow or blade as the next. The more swords you command, the longer you can hold them at bay while I attempt my task.’