Nenvalur nearly stood at Thorsen's height and looked him over. "My, you're a large one, aren't you?" he said, dropping his formal tone a little. No one, not even Anwill, had suspected such a comment from the elf. "I am as my Hjalfarian Blodt has made me," Thorsen said with pride, while Nenvalur grinned. "And such a heritage it is. Honestly, if the ones behind you had your height and strength, there would be no need to summon us," he said playfully.
We all immediately felt more comfortable with him and his presence. Granted, we hadn't spoken to the others he'd brought with him yet, but the friendly display Nenvalur gave us certainly helped quell any nervousness.
"Tell me, how can we help? From what I gather, you said there's a horde, and the Gwynnleaf is at risk?" Nenvalur asked, while Anwill nodded in agreement. "It might very well be, unfortunately," he began. "Leona, the former queen of the land you are in, and the Master of Codrean, here, may be more able to give you the details you will need," he continued, struggling to repeat the word Master like he had when I first met him, to which Nenvalur seemingly understood his meaning.
He knows. He definitely knows the Master's real name, I thought, but as soon as I did so, Nenvalur's eyes snapped to me and he chuckled lightly.
Leona and the Master stepped forward, greeting the elf with a customary bow. "There is no need for that, Your Majesty. I am a simple warrior, not some king that requires such formalities to boost his ego," Nenvalur said with a warm smile. He looked around him and only then noticed that nearly everyone wore strange masks. "Master, I hope you realize that this will not do," he said, shaking his head with a light chuckle.
He motioned to the ones behind him, and a few drew torches, igniting them with mana-flame. The large area soon became bright enough that there was no need for the masks any longer.
"So, what is required of my warriors and me? Support? Security? Slaughter?" Nenvalur asked, cutting straight to the point. "All of the above, I suppose," the Master began. "Above us lies a great force of creatures that have invaded the castle. Taking control of it and possibly slaying all who live within it are our top priorities," the Master replied, gesturing upward.
Nenvalur rubbed his clean-shaven chin. "To top it all off, they're probably going after the Gwynnleaf. Ah, this is a terrible situation all-round, isn't it?" he asked, sucking wind through his teeth. "Very well, then. Tell me where we must strike, and it will be done," he said with a shrug, indicating that mere monsters were of little nuance to him and his men.
"There is another thing that I believe to be of the utmost importance," Leona began while Nenvalur shifted his gaze to her. "And what might that be, Your Majesty?" he asked. "Unfortunately, the likelihood of there being any survivors, at this point, is minimal. However, this castle is home to the source of the Synners' prowess with mana manipulation," Leona said, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "You meant to say one of the sources, I presume?" he asked nonchalantly, catching Leona off guard, as was the Master. "I'm sorry?" she blinked as she asked, hoping to confirm what her ears had just heard.
"It is true that a source of great power lies within Coltend, which many of us here were already aware of. Gwynnleaf is the source for most Synners on this side of the Continent. However, there are other sources we elves have closely guarded in secret over the ages in which mana has existed," Nenvalur explained as though he were talking to a child.
Thorsen nodded as though it confirmed an old theory of his. "So there are other sources. I had always suspected as much, but this news is…" he trailed off. "That is correct, Large One," Nenvalur nodded, noticing the confused look on his face. "Naturally, I cannot tell you much more about them. Simply know that they exist, and that we must preserve the one hidden here," he said nonchalantly.
"Of course, to do so will mean that my men and I require a layout of the castle itself, for as I have said before, it has been a long time since any of the Arwydus have been here. Well, perhaps not that long," Nenvalur said with a wry grin, getting a confused look from everyone who hadn't come with him. "Although things have changed quite a lot in the past two millennia," he continued in a rather grim tone.
What the…? I trailed off mentally, trying to process everything he'd just said.
Not a single answer came to mind.
"Here, I hope this will help to refresh your memory," Thorsen approached him and handed him the map he had been entrusted with. "Ah, thank you, Large One," Nenvalur said with a smile, which Thorsen awkwardly returned. "It's Thorsen," he said, outstretched his hand while still holding the smile. "Rightly so. A fitting name if I've ever heard one," he stared at the hand awkwardly, but after a nod of confirmation from someone I didn't catch, he shook the hand firmly.
It was probably Anwill, but I can't be sure since I know he hates physical contact, I mentally chuckled as Bernar stifled a laugh.
Nenvalur carefully observed the map, holding every minute detail in his infallible memory. "We need you to attack…" Leona trailed off as he held up a hand. "The ones nearest to the Palace itself, and work our way outwards, giving you a safety bubble around your real target. I understand," Nenvalur finished her sentence with a bright smile.
"R-Rightly so," she stammered with a conceding nod. "Very well, then, but we must move immediately to make it by dawn. Nightfall comes, and even worse things than a simple attack tend to happen in the dark hours of the night," Nenvalur said.
I wonder what he means by that, I thought momentarily.
"The spawning of crying, eating, shitting, fuck-trophies, obviously," Nenvalur chirped, making me blink once or twice in surprise.
Did he just read my thoughts? Also, what the fuck? I thought with an internal laugh, standing silently and wondering whether my suspicions were correct.
"I did, young one. I meant what I said in jest, of course, as there are much fouler things than children, though they are rather high on my list, but come; we must move quickly," he said in a much lighter tone than I expected.
Nenvalur's elves, who held the torches, merged with our group, heading through the tunnels for a few kilometers, until we began to feel the rumbling of the hoard above us. I noted that their muffled bellowing could still faintly be heard, even as deep below the castle as we were..
"That sound. It must mean we're inside the castle walls by now," Leona said, hearing the rumbling from above. Thin wisps of dust fell from the ceiling of the tunnel. Nenvalur and Thorsen led the way, while Meliss held my arm tightly. I noticed she had a worried expression, so I silently prodded her to look at me. "What's the matter?" I asked, thinking it was just the sound from above, but her eyes told me a different story almost immediately. "I think we're one man short," she whispered, immediately sending a shiver down my spine.
"What? Who?" I asked quietly. "I can't say for certain, but I've just had a weird feeling since the portal opened," she replied. I didn't dare turn around in case anyone overheard her words, but the thought started to gnaw at my attention span. We went deeper and deeper into the tunnels, making various turns along the way, when we reached a fork in the passageways.
"I believe this is where we split up," the Master held up a hand for us to halt. "Master, need I remind you that dividing an already divided force is dangerous in war?" Pyle warned. "Dangerous but necessary. We knew it would come to this, and now it has," the Master replied simplistically. Pyle sighed lightly, but nodded his agreement in the torchlight.
"Leona and Meliss, you will accompany Pyle, Bernar, Thoma, Edryd, Batch, and me down the northern passage, while the others will accompany Nenvalur, Thorsen, and the elves to the southern entrance," the Master said.
"It will be an honor to see you fight, Thorsen," I heard Nenvalur say quietly. "Likewise," he replied. "When the battle is over, and should we all survive it, we'll reconvene at the palace, understood?" the Master asked, getting a unified clanging of hands slapping the scabbards of their swords.
"This is it, right? We're doing this?" Meliss asked shakily. My thoughts halted momentarily as I tried to find the right words to say. To be honest, I didn't know what to say, other than what I had been trained to do for most of my life.
"Breathe deeply, and draw your blade once we're topside. Stick close to me and the others, and no harm will come to you, got it?" I asked calmly as I could, though I was also beginning to break into a nervous sweat. Meliss nodded and focused on her breathing.
"Time we showed these bastards what we're made of," Batch said to Edryd. "I just hope you know what that is, because it better not be a steaming pile of shit," Edryd replied with a grin, which was returned in kind before they continued a quiet, idle conversation that I didn't bother turning around for.
Something's off, I thought, remembering what Meliss had told me.
Bernar walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I hope you've learned a thing or two, little shit," he said. "So do I, you perennial dingleberry," I retorted, getting a quiet chuckle from Bernar. "That's the best one I've ever heard you use as a comeback," he said. "I've been saving it for a special occasion like this," I winked.
"Must you always use derogatory terms between the two of you?" Leona asked, but Bernar merely shrugged his initial response. "He's my little brother and has to be reminded of that fact continuously. Such is the way of being the older brother," he replied as if quoting something from a tome to sound smart.
"Cheeky little…" she trailed off under her breath with a tongue click as she shook her head, but grinned when she turned away from us. Bernar and I winked at each other and looked forward, instantly comforted by her understanding.
"Let's move," the Master called out as loudly as he dared, and no sooner were we off, each to their destinations, and some to their fates.