The Fall of Vaeldur

Epic Fantasy / 4400 words

PREFACE: I hesitated to post this. It’s a story I wrote a couple of years ago. I like it, but it’s connected to a lot of other stuff—most of which I have not yet published. It stands on its own just fine, but I suspect it’d feel more satisfying if you’d read that other stuff first.

I have lived with my shame for so many years I no longer remember what it felt like before. My previous life may have been a dream... it is hard for me to say with certainty.

Perhaps this exercise will help exorcise my demons and make me sleep better at night. One can only hope.

The memories, then... Where should I start? At the beginning, I suppose.

***

I was born in Kaerlud, the son of an innkeeper. Despite being destined to take over the family business—if one can call it that—I dreamed of adventure. Some might think I was influenced by my mother’s frivolous nature... in truth, I was spellbound by the bards who performed at the inn, carrying colorful stories from all over Britony.

Though I would eventually end up on a different path, my initial inclination was to imitate those I so admired. I picked up a luth and spent hours upon hours trying to force some sounds out of it that would resemble music. After putting up for months with the dissonance of my failed attempts, my father cracked.

He took me aside and pointed out that, if I really wanted to become an adventurer, I should learn how to fight. He assured me every bard had, because they could not survive their constant traveling otherwise.

My father’s intention, of course, was solely to make the turbulence cease, but it helped me discover what I truly was good at.

Unknowingly, he had set me on a course which would lead to both my success and my doom.

***

When I turned eighteen, I left Kaerlud. My parents were distraught—my father still hoped I would someday take over for him; while my mother cried the loss of her baby, as all mothers do.

But I knew my destiny was elsewhere. I had become quite good with the sword and thought, perhaps, I could join the army and get to experience real combat. I was still young and, as most youth do, had a romanticized notion of what war would be like. I only saw the glory, the honor, the patriotism... I was naive, yes.

Be that as it may... though joining the army was easy enough, it turned out to be disappointing. Erethia was at peace, so there was no action to be found. What I craved, I would need to seek elsewhere.

After a few months of boredom, I quit the army and joined the ranks of a mercenary troop. It turned out to be much more exciting... at first. It was during this time I began to understand the true and messy nature of combat.

It was then, as well, that I met my destiny.

***

The extent of knowledge humans have about the glighs is limited to fairy tales, myths, and campfire talk. They are often the monsters used in stories to scare children into obedience. We make them out to be what they are not.

It is not my purpose here to reveal their secrets—not that I’d ever betray their confidence or, for that matter, expect anyone to read this. But there are some things I will have to say if any sense is to be made of my story... but I must remember to burn this document when I am done.

My own knowledge, at the time, was quite limited. Like all my peers, I had only heard the rumors and the bedtime stories. This all changed one fateful night, when I was separated from my companions and became lost in a forest. I was not concerned, because we had procedures in place for such circumstances—it occurred more often than one might think. But as I set off toward one of our rallying points, I noticed an unusual glow in the bushes nearby.

It was unusual in that the lighting carried multiple colors. They shifted and twirled in the air in what seemed like random patterns. I was fascinated and decided to investigate.

What I found was an egg. It was green, it was blue, it was white... and then it was yellow and black, then purple, orange, and green again.

I stood there a long time, staring at it. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. I did not know anything like this existed. It was something new, something strange, something extraordinary. The kind of thing that, as a kid, had made me dream of becoming an adventurer.

There was power here, too. I could feel it—gentle and soothing. It drew me closer. I sat down next to it. Then, hesitantly, I reached out and touched the egg.

It was warm, it was strong, it was alone... I could feel something in me shiver and rejoice.

I lay down with my arms wrapped around it, closed my eyes and fell asleep.

***

My first thought when I awoke, was that I had dreamed. But when I opened my eyes, I still held the egg. It did not seem so bright under the sun, you could barely see a yellow-bluish tint.

I sat up and stared at it for a moment. There was something different about it. I ran a finger along its surface and confirmed what I suspected: there was a crack! Was it damaged? I grew concerned. But as soon as this thought formed in my mind, I was comforted by a wave of warmth and peace.

That was when I heard it. A rattling sound. I felt the egg vibrate under my hand and the crack widened. I jerked back and watched as the shell broke into two pieces, and a little lizard-like creature slid out of it.

When I say little, I should clarify: it was as long as my forearm and as large as the length of my hand. It was the same color as the grass under us, with bright intelligent eyes.

It came straight toward me, without a moment of hesitation, and rubbed its side against my leg. I just as easily brought my hand down to pet it.

I recognized it as Exxor, it recognized me as Urwin, and we both knew our lives would forever be linked.

***

It never occurred to me—or to any of my companions—that this could be a gligh. They go through many transformations over the course of their lifetimes, and the image we usually associate with them is quite a different one. Still lizard-like, of course, but of a more humanoid type, with hands and feet and a mouth capable of voicing intelligible words.

At birth, however, their only form of communication is through thoughts and emotions. They were always clear ones, that I could easily comprehend. It never had any trouble understanding me either.

But only I could “hear” it. In my head.

It did not go well. Bringing back a lizard with me was bad enough, but they thought I’d gone mad when I started having conversations with Exxor. I’ve since learned to send him my thoughts without voicing them aloud. But, at the time, I was ostracized for my insane behavior—or so they deemed it.

The truth was, however, I no longer cared. I felt like I had never been whole before, that Exxor had completed me in ways I had never even thought possible. I had spent many years with my fellow mercenaries; and yet, it only was now I no longer felt alone.

***

One of the many things I learned about the glighs, which is not known to humans, is that they share their joys, but also their pains. If one of them suffers, all others do as well.

And Exxor was in pain. Had always been. Even before his birth. For that particular pain had existed for two hundred years. His people longed to suffer no more.

That is why, three weeks after leaving my companions, I arrived in Vaeldur.

***

In those days, Vaeldur was a sprawling city-state renown throughout the lands for its wealth and diversity—of cultures and of beliefs.

My childhood had been filled with colorful stories of this historically important city. Most famously, it was the site where the first peace treaty between humans and fays had been signed, but it also was where the war for Erethian independence had been won, and where many famous poets and military heroes had lived. The bards praised its beauty and power in all their songs, and rightfully so.

I felt like I knew the city, despite having never set foot there before. But my joy was tainted by this new knowledge, that Exxor had whispered into my head: one of his kin had been held prisoner here, and constantly tortured, for the past two centuries.

***

It was easy to find him. Through the connection between members of their species, Exxor was able to pinpoint the prisoner’s exact location. However, getting him out would not be so easy.

It was a nondescript building in one of the busiest parts of town. Its normal-looking walls were white, its normal-looking door black, with normal-looking windows and normal-looking people coming and going into what appeared to be a normal-looking residential structure.

There were merchant stalls all along the street, from which rose the scents of fruits and herbs. It was noisy and messy, but otherwise unremarkable.

I wondered if my friend had not made some mistake, but Exxor assured me this was indeed the right place. Axxer—for that was the name of his captive sibling—was detained in the basement.

The glighs have a number of special abilities. One of them is that they can easily blend into the scenery by altering their appearance to match the surroundings. This is why they are so rarely seen by humans and why so many have come to doubt they even exist.

Another is that they can extend this camouflage to others, provided there is a physical connection between them.

And so we were able to slip into the building unseen, following behind one of its inhabitants.

Nothing we found inside was much more remarkable than its facade. At first, at least.

Following my friend’s instructions, we made our way through a series of halls and staircases, which took us deep under the surface of the city. We would pause and squeeze into alcoves each time we heard steps coming our way—we’d wait for them to pass, then resume our descent.

It soon occurred to me that a regular home would have no need for such extensive underground tunnels. Something about this place felt off. I must admit, until then, and despite Exxor’s assertions, a part of me had doubted. But, from then on, all my doubts dissipated. We were on the right track.

This was further evidenced when we reached a large stone door with bright red runes etched on its surface. I had no magical leaning whatsoever, but I could sense power pulsing and dripping from the indecipherable writing.

He’s here, whispered Exxor in my head. But I was frozen with fright. He could not possibly want me to go through that? I did not know what wicked spells had been cast on the door, but there obviously was something which would either set off an alarm, or in some fashion incapacitate me—whether in a temporary or permanent way I had no interest in finding out.

I felt the gligh’s comforting aura bathe me as he appeased my confused thoughts. He reminded me that I was not alone, that I would be fine, that...

While he continued to reassure me—or attempt to—I reminded myself that Exxor was still a child. Furthermore, he'd had no education whatsoever. I could not let him coax me into believing he had knowledge of such matters, that he could keep me safe... it was a preposterous notion.

And yet...

There is something to say about the bond that connects all glighs. It is not merely a form of empathic communication. They also share memories in this manner, as well as wisdom and expertise. It dawned on me—likely prompted by Exxor himself—that, during all this time he had been with me, the gligh had also been with all of his kin, communicating with them and, perhaps more importantly, learning from them. He had, in fact, contrary to my belief, had a very thorough education. And while not all glighs were versed in matters of magic, many were and, he insisted, he was, at that very moment, conferring with some of the most knowledgeable individuals amongst them.

Less comforting was the fact none of them seemed to recognize these specific runes. It was arcane human sorcery, far from the types they were most familiar with—as magic comes in many shapes. It was ventured that the prisoner within may have some insight on the topic, but his current state impeded his ability to form coherent thoughts.

I was about to give up and bolt back to the surface when the door opened.

***

Two men wearing long black cloaks and hoods appeared in the door frame. I could see behind them a lengthy corridor, rather than the cell I had expected.

The mages—for we all felt that was what they were—turned to our right and headed off.

Before the door closed—and with great care not to even graze its surface—I slipped through the opening.

Despite some rare torches on the walls, the hall was dark. It was also quiet and stank of mold.

Exxor informed me we were not far from his kin. He was there, behind another door, after one last turn...

I froze when I saw the two guards standing on each side of what—this time—appeared like a normal wooden door.

The gligh reminded me I was a fighter, that I should not be concerned about two regular soldiers, that I could easily take them, even more so with them unable to see me... I would have the element of surprise in my favor.

All good points.

So I drew my sword—as quietly as I could—and sneaked up to them. I decided to skewer the largest first, then just as the other jerked back in surprise, wondering what had happened to his colleague, I took a swing at him. His movement made me miss the kill, but the wound I gave him made him wince as he grabbed his sword and lifted it in the air. His motions were panicked, random, erratic. He was spinning around, swishing wildly at the air as he tried to slay his invisible foe. I waited until I saw an opening, then jabbed my blade through his chest.

He fell to the ground, next to his deceased companion.

I sheathed my sword and examined the door. It was locked. But the two men each had a set of keys on them. It took some time to find the right one, and I was growing increasingly restless with each failed attempt.

When the door finally creaked open, my nostrils were assailed by the mixed scent of musk and incense. The four torches within revealed a cage in the center of the room, wherein lay a dormant adult gligh.

***

The passage of time had not been kind to him. His scales were worn and dirty. Like all males of his species, he had a long and dark mane—though the hairs on his were sparse and turning white at the edges.

I had thought him sleeping, but he was not. He lifted his head to stare at us, without any trace of surprise. In fact, he had known we were coming for a long time... how could he have not? His blood-shot eyes were sad and exhausted, tinged with what might have been a hint of madness.

There was something else. An uneasiness that crept through me. It was in this room, in the air... I could not put my finger upon it, but I could tell something was off. I think Exxor felt it too, but he chose to ignore it. His purpose was focused and would allow no deviation.

My gligh companion urged me to break the cage’s lock with my blade. I hesitated, then, and the urging became more pressing.

They could come at any moment, I heard.

“Who is ‘they’?” asked I.

The answer I received was a flurry of confused images which made no sense. I realized they came from the prisoner. He was the only one who truly knew the dangers that lay ahead, but his mind was addled by old age and the rigors of his captivity.

I glanced at Exxor. “I thought you said he had been tortured? I see no sign of it...”

More confusion, this time from my friend. He knew there had been torture but did not comprehend its nature or extent.

“I suppose captivity, in itself, is a form of torture,” I whispered to myself.

I lifted my sword, but as I was about to bring it down on the lock I heard a voice scream from behind us:

“No!”

I spun around, blade pointed at the door. One of the dark-cloaked men stood in the frame with terror in his eyes.

“Do not release it! It would be the end of us all...”

His fright felt genuine, and that on its own was sufficient to stay my hand. For a mage to feel so strongly about something as insignificant as this seemed—or, at least, should have been for one of his position and stature—made little sense. It was his duty to watch the prisoner, I understood this, but it did not justify the strong emotions evident on his face... unless he feared punishment from tyrannical masters.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, though I remained suspicious and ready to strike.

“We sit on a vortex!” he replied, as if that should have been enough to explain it all. And perhaps it would have, had I been more magically inclined. I did sense some restlessness from my companion. And, behind me, Axxer became agitated, banging his tail against the bars of his cage while he emitted guttural groans.

What is going on? I asked Exxor. His replies were confused, but the goal had not changed, it was imperative we liberate his sibling. Only this would heal him and help make the collective mind of the glighs whole again. Nothing was more important than that.

I spun around and, without another moment of hesitation, swung at the lock. It broke and fell to the floor.

Before I could say or do anything else, the cage’s door flew open, Axxer jumped out and onto the mage. His claws and fangs ripped into the screaming man as his flesh was torn apart.

“Was that necessary?” I muttered.

Exxor explained it was difficult to calm the former prisoner, for his long captivity had corroded the older gligh’s mind. It would take time to heal. For now, he was in a feral state and hungry for revenge.

As all these thoughts passed back and forth between me and my companion, the ground under us began to shake. It was feeble, at first, but it quickly grew in intensity. I glanced at the cage and saw it distorting, the air inside blurring, the floor beneath darkening.

We must go, said Exxor. There was urgency in the thought. I did not argue.

The three of us ran out as cracks formed on the walls. We reached the door with the runes just as it fell with a loud bang. The magic symbols upon it lit up and a deflagration threw us back four feet.

The wall to our left collapsed. We got back up and hurried to the stairs. The floor still shook as we made our desperate way up.

What the heck is going on? I asked in anguish. Did we do this?

All I got from Exxor was the same sense of urgency—we had to get out as quick as possible. As if I hadn’t figured that out...

When we reached the surface, we sprinted for the exit.

I thought we’d be safe once in the streets. Maybe the house would crumble to dust, but we’d have made it out.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

Large cracks streaked through the streets while entire buildings crumbled, fire spread, and people ran around screaming...

The entire city was in chaos.

***

We sit on a vortex, the mage had said. Those words would haunt me for years. What had he meant? As the entire city collapsed around us, I became increasingly convinced all of this had been caused by our—my actions. I had done this.

What followed is like a blur to me. We ran for our lives. Nothing else mattered. We needed to leave Vaeldur, get as far away from there as possible. But the disaster was spreading faster than we could run.

We found horses. They were as panicked as the rest of the population, but the glighs somehow managed to soothe them. Exxor was not yet capable of riding, but he still was small enough he could fit into my bag. So he jumped in and I climbed on one horse while Axxer got on the other.

With the help of our mounts, and Exxor’s constant mental control over them, we were able to ride out... somehow. Even today, when I think back, it feels like a miracle we managed it. Sometimes I wonder if we deserved such a miracle.

In the years that followed, I became obsessed. I wanted, I needed to understand what had happened. Vaeldur had been utterly destroyed. Many escaped the city, but no one knew what had caused the disaster. Stories, rumors, legends began to circulate, most of them nonsense—and none of them true.

How long would these questions haunt me? For the rest of my life, I suspected... however long that would be. Glighs are known to live extremely long lives and it made me wonder if my bond with Exxor would somehow lengthen my lifespan? If not, what would happen to my companion when I died? The collective did not know. There had been no cases of a bond between our species before us.

I also wondered, sometimes, if my meeting with Exxor had not been staged. Had I been manipulated? Our bond was real, but it also was obvious the glighs could not have rescued their sibling without a human's help. Was that egg placed there on my path on purpose? I felt Exxor himself sometimes wondered. He was not pleased with what had happened anymore than I was. Axxer was free, and the glighs’ collective mind was whole again, but the taking of lives—be it human ones—is no small matter to their species.

My quest for answers finally came to an end over a decade later.

***

The answers came in an unexpected fashion.

Twelve years is how long it took for Axxer’s mind to heal from centuries of captivity. If anything, the glighs are a resilient sort. Though to be fair, they have something we lack: the collective.

When he was himself again, he sought me out. By using speech rather than thought, I understood he wished to say things without sharing them with his siblings. Which was an odd thing to do for one of his kind.

The damage to the collective had not been due to his captivity per se, but rather to his own actions. He had attempted to wipe some of his memories, and in doing so had affected the entire community. But now that he was whole again, those memories had returned.

Vortexes are power surges created through the excessive use of magic. They can take hundreds of years to form as the energies slowly build up in the earth, the trees, the water... Until Vaeldur, they had only ever been witnessed in nature. When the energies reach a certain point, the vortex bursts open, like a geyser, to devastating effect.

When early symptoms of a vortex were recognized inside Vaeldur, solutions were sought. In those days, the glighs had better relations with the humans, and it was one of them—Axxer himself—who revealed that members of his species were capable of capturing magical energy into their bodies and sending it back into the earth. They could thus serve as a constant conduit and release valve, keeping the magic from overflowing.

Axxer was already old, with not much left to live for. He spent most of his time in communion with the collective... something he did not need his body for. So he volunteered to hold the vortex closed. It had been his suggestion to either chain him or cage him, as he suspected the years would return his body to a feral state, and he would then become a danger to those around him. A cage was deemed more humane.

The years, however, also damaged his mind, something no one had anticipated. This tainted his thoughts and made him cry for help to his kindred as he became convinced he was being held against his will. He no longer understood the purpose of his life, nor the significance of the pains he felt as raw energy ran through his body, interpreting this as a form of torture from his captors.

As he told his story, tears ran down his cheeks. I realized they were shed more for the victims of those last days—including the mage he had torn to shreds—than for his own ordeal.

When he was done, he urged me not to tell anyone. Ever. The humans had never been told about the vortex—lest they panicked—, let alone about his presence and role. And the glighs were better off thinking they had done the right thing by liberating him... what would have been the purpose of telling them the truth? It would only further taint the collective. I agreed.

I have lived with this knowledge for so long... it is eating me up. It was Exxor who suggested I write it down. He said it might help. I think it has. Though the burden is still there. But I have to burn these pages and continue to live with that knowledge. Maybe I’ll write it all up again in a few years, when the yearning to tell the story becomes too strong again... and then burn it all once more.

This knowledge will haunt me for the rest of my life, but I will keep my word.

Nobody will ever know... nobody can ever know.

If you like my writing, please consider buying a copy of my novel, upgrading to a paid subscription, or making a Paypal or Ko-fi donation. As an independent author, any of these would help a lot!

Enjoy my writing and want more epic fantasy from me? Check out these stories:

• Deathbringer (Reikk fights a dragon and a minotaur to save some souls)

• Salamandra Sun (orphans uncover a plot to destroy their city and only they can stop it!)

If you enjoyed this story, please feel free to forward it to your friends or to share it on social media.

And don’t forget to like by clicking the little heart below this post ;)

Thank you!

—

Text (c) 2024 by Alex S. Garcia.

Header: royalty-free stock images, edited by me.

—

Want to read more free stuff?

Sign up to The Sample for a large selection of nonfiction (and some fiction.)