Elegy for a Star

“Krahe?” Tess replied. She was certain that her face betrayed her absolute shock and, well, a little bit of fear, too.

She had gotten a better look of the room she was in. Everything was built of limestone bricks, if Tess had to make a guess. Rectangular in shape, a singular hallway on the right, multiple windows on the left. Judging by the open sky beyond, they were in some sort of tower. On the other side of the room however—opposite the gigantic looking glass—was a crumbling portion of the room. The wall was missing, the floor and walls giving away with a ruinous pattern. Beyond it was a sea of clouds; Just how massive was this tower, to breach the sky?

Scattered about the room were various trinkets and constructs, most contained within glass-covered pedestals. There was a great red-and-gold suit of armor that looked like it could move at any moment. On the opposite side sat a pair of boots that were stabilized upon an airtight-contained cloud of smoke as easily as they would on the limestone floor.

The person standing before her had dark-brown hair, practically black, and deep, green pools for irises. Her athletic build suggested a great deal of work outdoors, but the scarlet cloak she wore must have protected her from Thyr’s withering gaze because she was quite pale. She wore a smirk as comfortably as her clothing, one eyebrow pitched upward in amusement as though Tess were a joke in and of herself. She was youthful. Younger than Tess. Was she even fifteen?

The cloak she wore; Something about it drew her in. Tess occasionally found herself lost in its enticing color.

“Yep. Krahe, in the flesh,” the rogue held her hands out to either side.  There was a triplet of parallel scratches across her right forearm. The slash of a claw? The way she spoke betrayed a maturity far beyond her apparent age. “Been looking forward to finally having a little face-to-face time,” she added, “You’ve really gone and fucked things up.”

An anxiety gripped Tess at her core. What was it that she’d done?

“I don’t understand,” she replied.

Krahe let out a sigh, “Yeah, I know. I’m being cryptic and vague, right? Hey, there’s a reason for it, I promise. You can’t know yet.” She reached out and gave Tess a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“Can’t know what?” Tess asked, quickly realizing what a moot inquiry it was.

Krahe just chuckled and stuck her tongue out for just a moment.

At the same time, a number of individuals entered the room from a side hallway. Five in all. Six, if Krahe was included. Tess recognized the brutish and armored Maeros from her dream not too long ago. He was significantly younger than she remembered him, though. The gray hair from her dream was black instead, and many of his wrinkles and scars were gone. In her dream, he looked ruined. Right now? Right now he looked hopeful.

Besides him, Tess was uncertain about the others. A ragtag group of Wyrden and warriors.

“Who’s this?” An underkin dwarf questioned sternly.

Krahe waved him off, “Stuff your shit, Dolen, she’s a friend.”

“What’s a ‘friend’ doing here?” He replied with a grumble of a voice.

“The plot thickens!” The Summer Fey dressed in brightly-colored, cortier’s clothing laughed, “More and more mysteries. First the Winter Fey princess, then the Sphinx, and now strange allies appearing out of nowhere?” When Miri vanished, Tess had to go to Scirocca for information on the Heroic Divine. Judging by what she’d learned, the colorful man must be Rahberon, a minstrel from Valkaria’s royal court.

“No,” another Summer Fey replied, “He’s right, we should be wary. This whole place has been strange. Krahe, who is she?” Despite the eternal, prime age of this tall man, he looked mature and wise. Long hair the color of pitch reached his lower back, and a royal circlet kept it out of his face. A book was chained to his hip. A spellbook? No one has used those since the star vials were invented. He must be the Wyrden of the group. That meant he was Elnaril. The Elnaril. The greatest Wyrden to have ever existed.

“Where am I?” Tess asked Krahe in a whisper. It was dawning on her that she was in a time that took place even before her dreams. “When am I?” She corrected herself.

Krahe ignored her and rolled her eyes at Elnaril, “Her name is Tess and she is a friend. That’s all you need to know. Now fuck off.” This Krahe was certainly more vulgar than the one she’d seen in her dreams.

Maeros chided, “Enough, Krahe. Give us something. Does she belong to the Crowlord, too?”

“Sure, crazy man,” Krahe held up a middle finger, “Let’s go with that.”

The last one to arrive stepped up in front of the group and gave them a charming smile, holding up his hands to ease the tension, “Hey, guys, come on. Krahe’s on our side. Always been, from the start. Give her the benefit of the doubt. She’s been nothing but helpful and good.”

The man speaking up for her looked about eighteen years old. He wore a comfortable linen shirt and loose pants made of some animal hide. His short black hair was messy, partially covering his eyes. No, his eye. He wore a black eyepatch and carried a rapier on his hip. Was that Henry?

The Henry she’d seen in her dreams had withered skin, was dead in the eyes and couldn’t even speak. He looked like a decrepit, walking corpse. This man was, by all accounts, gorgeous. A beautiful face, lean muscle and charming, kind features. Tess felt the pressure of tears and wanted to cry, knowing what became of this young man.

“Just leave her alone and let’s be grateful for the extra help,” Henry said to the group.

Krahe shook her head, “She ain’t gonna be too helpful.”

“With what?” Tess asked, but she was once again ignored.

“Let’s just get this done and get out of here,” Krahe urged, waving Maeros over.

The strong man slipped off his backpack, reaching inside to pull out a circular object wrapped in a black cloth. He approached the massive spyglass with it and unwrapped what looked like a massive jeweler’s lens, roughly a foot in diameter and an inch thick. He fit it into the spyglass, into a slot that Tess hadn’t noticed. “Elnaril,” Maeros beckoned.

The Wyrden approached and bent down to look into the spyglass. He studied whatever it was that he saw for a time, “Rahberon, write this down…”

“All set,” Rahberon replied, readying a small booklet and an inkpen.

Elnaril spoke a series of words in Courtish. Tess didn’t understand most of them, but knew that he was relaying numbers as well as words. The words she did pick up on were black, near, and something else about time, but Tess didn’t understand the number that followed.

Rahberon scribbled away with ease, watching Elnaril all the while and repeating the Courtish words.

“Do you speak Courtish yet?” Krahe asked.

Tess shook her head, dumbfounded.

“He’s saying the Black Sun will be here in eleven years. The Mage Empress made that lens for us, though. It shows things that no one can actually see,” Krahe explained with a nudge on Tess’ arm, “So on top of that, he’s saying that it’s picking up speed. That Arlen’s bringing it closer.”

“The Betrayer?” Tess asked.

Krahe nodded, “Yeah, but he’s not called that yet. Hoping we can stop it by decapitating that suicidal bitch.”

“Krahe,” Elnaril snapped, “We are not killing Arlen.”

She snapped, “Maybe you aren’t, but I’m gonna gut him the first chance I get. He’s trying to end the world.”

“If I know the ritual he’s using, I can reverse it. We can push the Black Sun away,” Elnaril replied, “But we need his help. He isn’t evil by nature. He’s misguided.”

“Right,” Krahe said with a dull expression, “When I’m misguided I just take a wrong turn on the road. When he’s misguided, he brings the apocalypse?” Krahe rolled her eyes, “Purposeful or not, he’s gotta die, Elnaril.”

“You’re thinking too short-term,” Elnaril said with a shake of his head, “Subdue. Do not kill. I will protect him if it comes to it.”

Krahe sighed and whispered to Tess, “I don’t even know why we bring this guy.”

Maeros, who stood closest of them all, replied, “Because he wanted to come with us, and he could turn you into a toad again, if he chose to.”

Krahe groaned. By the way the mouthy girl didn’t argue, Maeros’ statement was true. It was a little satisfying to see the cocky girl put in her place.

Outside of the ruined window was a great, animalistic roar. It was a screech that tore at Tess’ insides and wrought a whirlwind of fear in her mind. In the distance, she spotted a great, black dragon on approach, great wings carrying it through the sky.

Upon it was a man, a dark silhouette in the distance.

“Who is it?” Maeros asked.

Elnaril replied, “It’s him. Arlen.”

“Great,” Dolen groaned, “A dragon, too?”

“Apocrypha,” Elnaril confirmed, “She’s a great wyrm.”

“How do you know?” Henry asked, drawing a rapier from his belt. The weapon looked exceptional and vicious.

Elnaril stated matter-of-factly, ”We’ve met.”

“I’ll focus on the dragon. The rest of you deal with Arlen. He’s the important one,” Maeros ordered, “He’s making a mistake by showing himself. We’ll end this today.”

“Arlen wouldn’t come here without a plan,” Elnaril chided Maeros, dulling the hopes of the group, “But I’ll try to protect you all as best I can.”

As the dragon approached, Tess looked around the room. A great tower. Oddities on display. The Heroic Divine meeting Arlen.

This was the Battle of the Inventor’s Tower. This was the first meeting of the Heroic Divine and the Betrayer.

This was the great tragedy she’d read about. This was Arlen’s greatest victory over the Heroic Divine.