Throughout their journey they were all on alert for ambush. Shuran shared with them most of the details of his vision. He did not speak of seeing Bastien. Shuran was unsure if this was not part of his regret of loss, bleeding into the vision. Shuran often felt that Bastien would have been a candidate for the human weaver among the Zidu’Si.
The Zidu’Si needed a member of each race in the least to become complete. Additional members could be inducted, but there were seven weapons of power for wielding by a leading member of each race of man and another for an Isten to the Shin’Ar.
As they neared the outer boarders of Britengate, Shuran could sense movement and halted his approach. He signaled the others to halt as well. After several moments, Shuran turned and said, “I see you.”
With this the elven rangers came out of hiding. There were nearly fifty rangers spread out among the forest around them.
“We have followed from Entensiama,” The ranger admitted.
“I have been aware of your presence, I just do not understand why you tried to remain hidden,” Shuran said.
“The Queen Mother was afraid you would be insulted by our joining you. She wanted only that we observe and report back your findings.”
“I warned the Queen of my vision and still she sends you?” Shuran asked.
“She says that to attempt to alter a vision is only to invite far worse. Fate takes measure to correct its course,” Orian said.
“You knew they were sent?” Shuran asked indignantly.
“I only suspected until I felt them approach some time ago.”
Shuran just rolled his eyes at Orian and turned back to the village of Britengate.
“I sense no life among the village but that of a few woodland creatures that have ventured within,” Shuran said. “Let us spread out among the village and check closer and circle back to the altar in the center of the settlement,” Shuran said and they all fanned out among the village searching for signs of recent activity.
Shuran walked around the shops and stalls that until recently were likely teaming with activity. He rounded a corner and was met by a vision that sent his skin to pimple. He had wandered to the center of the village and now stood before the Altar of Creation.
Standing beneath the lintel topped uprights flanking the altar, stood a young woman bathed in pale light. She was sobbing.
“Ho there mistress!” Shuran whispered as not to startle the girl.
She turned to face him.
As she turned Shuran was greeted by the sight of the large crack running up the center of the crystal altar stone. A portion of his vision came back to mind.
“You have come!” The apparition said.
“Who are you?” Shuran asked.
“Who I was I only begin to recall. I am split and lost. I must find myself,” she said before sobbing came upon her again.
“What has happened here?” Shuran asked.
“The light has been taken and the altar destroyed long ago,” she replied without looking at him. She hid her face behind the long flow of snow-white hair that waved on an absent breeze. “I knew you would come. I saw it, and here you are,” she said in a childish voice. Her sweet and innocent demeanor changed instantly.
“THE BAD HALF HAS DONE EVIL THINGS!” she yelled then suddenly returned to the docile sobbing girl he first saw. “She must not see me now. It is not time.”
Shuran could not help but feel sorry for this young girl.
“They have left to hide from her evil death walkers,” she continued. “You have come. I knew you would,” she repeated.
“Do I know you maiden?” Shuran asked.
“You did yes, but not in this form.” Suddenly she looked out past Shuran.
“The death walkers come. Save the light sheesh!” she said and then was gone.
Shuran was brought back to his senses by a scream of pain.
Shuran could hear sounds of steel and twanging of bowstring. As he turned back from the altar and left the structure his vision came to life.
Undead solders where approaching from all directions.
The elves and Zidu’Si had arrived back to the Altar grounds as the attack began.
“Shin’Ar! They are unnatural!” screamed Orian.
“They are the undead I saw in my vision,” Shuran began. Before he could say more a stream of fire shot forth from several of the attackers that met with unprepared elves. The screams of the elven rangers now burning to death was more than Shuran could stomach.
He turned and ran to the nearest attack. With his hands outstretched he sent walls of earth up to separate the death walkers from his Zidu’Si and the elven rangers. The wall did not hold long as it melted from the heat of fire being streamed at it from the undead wielders.
“They work the Essence! How? They have no recognizable shi. I cannot read their energies!” Orian said.
“Use your gug weapons!” Shuran yelled.
Shuran called forth a sword and shield from the Vault armory for himself and Mallick. The two went about slicing at the undead with limited success. Every act of magic they sent against the creatures was met with equal resistance.
Mallick decided to alter his attack. He dodged around a spear and came up behind an attacker then struck.
Shuran saw the body falling as the head rolled forward.
“That works!” Mallick said with a cocky grin.
Shuran then noticed a dark mist seeping from the now headless body. “Demons!” Shuran knew what he read was in use. Someone was controlling these dead creatures using darkness to power the body. “Mallick! Hold them back I need to find who controls them!” Shuran yelled.
Mallick saluted and went back to slashing and hacking at the death walkers.
The elven rangers were holding their own. They were able to confuse whatever lie behind those dead eyes with their use of electric pulses and sparks or balls of energy. For every elf to fall five of the undead were taken out. Their bodies wreathed and shook on the ground as they sizzled from bolts of energy the elves were sending. This could not go for much longer. These elves would tire soon enough.
The Zidu’Si would stand longer being strengthened by weapon and the bond of service to Shin’Ar. Shuran ran around finding exhausted elves to re-energize through Abnu Emuq he was pulling from the Vault. He could not do this indefinitely. He had to find the source controlling this unnatural force of men. He needed something more.
Shuran reached out with his senses to locate his Zidu’Si. Once he found them in his mind he tried to send them all a message at once, but something strange happened. Their energies merged then separated.
Avrank was suddenly pulling molten rocks from the ground and thrusting them at his attackers while running beneath their grasp slamming the Menasutur into knees and shins, forcing them to the ground.
Mallick was likewise firing fire and lightening in turn as he got close enough to behead his foe. Orian melted the ground to liquid rock beneath foes. Shuran had joined their abilities.
This distraction did not last for Shuran. A looming presence appeared from the tree line. Four massive monstrous hulks of flesh lumbered toward him, ogres. Shuran had to hope the Zidu’Si and elves could hold their own now.
The first of the ogres came for him. It brandished a club the size of a small tree. The ogre swung in an effort to take Shuran’s head from his shoulders.
Shuran was not there to meet the blow. He entered the lines and concentrated on mapping them. He felt out with his senses to the furthest edges of the energy currents veining the continent until he found what he was looking for. In an instant he was out and standing upon solid ground.
As he gathered himself he felt the wave of heat. A wall of flame surrounded him. He was confused at first because this was not the mage flame the death walkers had been throwing. This was elemental flame. Shuran reached out and joined his shi to the flame and tamed it. Standing before him was the robed figure. Behind the figure, the ogres loomed.
“Nice trick! But not very effective at making your escape, Anzillu!” The man said in a forced and raspy voice. “You will not stand against the darkness,” he continued.
“Who are you?” Shuran asked.
“You ask the wrong questions. I will give you one answer to one question before my ogre friends make breakfast of your innards.”
Shuran thought hard about what to ask but did not have the courage to face the answer. He decided to ask something else.
“Who stands as the force behind the imbalance?” Shuran asked.
“Ah! A difficult question to answer since the imbalance has never been fixed,” the mysterious man hissed.
“Your answer!” Demanded Shuran.
“The force behind the imbalance was and is the dark half of the whole,” the robed man laughed.
“Speak plainly!” Shuran yelled.
“I answered true, finding the meaning is up to you.” he giggled and turned.
“Should you get past my pets here, perhaps I’ll answer another question, Shuran.”
The ogre reached out for Shuran but never took hold.
Shuran was angry and did not wish being toyed with. Shuran ducked and placed his hand on the ogre’s arm as its grasp past him.
Instantly the ogre was gone.
One by one Shuran dispatched the other three ogres before running off to find the robed man. He found him standing near the cracked altar of light, controlling his death walkers as they closed in on what remained of the elves and Shuran’s Zidu’Si.
They fought well but were visibly exhausted and out numbered ten to one. Shuran let his anger boil and lashed out at the robed man with waves of powerful fire.
The figure was well prepared for it and met the challenge with a wall of dragon glass.
Shuran could not understand where the glass came from. Suddenly shards of the glass broke from the main body and shot through the air toward him. Shuran threw a spell at them, “PAD!” he yelled and they broke to pieces and dust.
“Impressive, but how will you handle this?” the man said as he threw a ball of pulsing dark energy at Shuran.
Shuran tried to sense the attack but it was a twisted form of power and all he could do was dodge the assault.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, here I thought you a challenge, having dispatched my ogres so quickly. What ever did you do with them I wonder?” he mocked.
“They are swimming, in the fiery pool of Hell’s Mouth!” Shuran offered. “Would you care to join them?” he asked the dark foe.
“I think not, I do like a warm bath but I also believe that would be a bit uncomfortable.”
Shuran’s distracting the wielder had an effect of slowing the death walkers. Mallick and the rest of the fighting force were able to gain advantage and dispatch more of the lifeless soldiers.
The robed man took notice and renewed his assault on them. Shuran could see his attention could not be split and remain effective on both fronts.
“Tell me stranger, what do you expect to gain by this?” Shuran asked as he began to circle around behind the man. Shuran employed the art of deception the elves used on him. He obscured his movements from the man.
The robed figure darted his hooded head back and forth trying to locate Shuran. The effect it had, showed immediately by the slowing of the death walkers’ attacks.
Shuran continued to goad the man. “Does your master expect you to win the night? Will he or she reward you somehow for taking down the abomination born in Drakkfoth?” Shuran continued.
“Reveal yourself mixed-blood, you only prove that you are ANZILLU!” he screeched.
“HA! That is a bold statement coming from someone controlling the bodies of dead men!” Shuran called back in echo from all around the altar. Shuran had succeeded in thoroughly angering the man. It was time to strike.
The robed man had backed himself into the center of the structure surrounding the altar. A dozen raised crystal stones surrounded him.
Shuran pulled forth energy and earth causing the electric lines to pulse up into the crystals and inward to the center of the shelter where the man stood. Shuran approached the smoking mass in the middle of the altar shelter. He kicked at it to find his foot goes right through it. Off in the distant trees he could hear the angry and wounded shouting.
“I will see you again Shuran, son of Dalgon. You will pay for your past transgressions and I will see you put down like the abomination you are!” the voice yelled.
Shuran spared less than a moment on the man as he turned to see the death walkers slowed to a crawling unorganized mass. Without the direct control of their master they were harmless.
The Zidu’Si and remaining elves made short work of taking their heads.
Shuran gathered himself and made for his comrades position. “How many were lost?” Shuran asked a Ranger.
“We lost nearly half our number, twenty-four dead, another seven wounded. We are not certain they will make it,” The Ranger answered solemnly.