It wasn’t the prince he was aiming for or even the Ranger for that matter. It was the heart itself. He hoped that if he struck it at the very moment the lightning did, he could destroy it. Robbing both parties of their prize.
Now that would be a story told in every tavern across the world. The tale of how an unknown assailant managed to destroy one of the world’s most powerful artifacts, and do it right under the noses of those who wanted it most.
The Orcs, the prince, and even the Thorn Caller with his battalion of mages across the river. All would have to tell the tale.
Allister released his arrow. Letting it fly through the air and striking the heart at the exact moment the lightning would have charged it with power. The blow was so strong it knocked the gem from Zannith’s hands and caused a small crack to form on its surface.
The surprise of the gem being torn from the mage’s hands, coupled with the burst of lightning, caused everyone to pause in shock.
Zannith was the first to react diving to the ground to recover the heart, but it was too late. The energy of the lightning bolt coupled with the crack from the arrow was just enough to weaken its hard surface. Preventing it from being able to contain the raw power being forced into it.
Upon touching the heart, Zannith screamed in agony as it melted the skin from his hands. The once small crack had now become a spider web of widening fissures across the face of the gem.
Searing light beamed through the cracks and shot outward in every direction. Leaving scorch marks wherever the struck.
Rone’s companions all screamed for him to run as they dashed towards the river’s edge. But Rone couldn’t move, the weakness from the cleansing spell still lingered inside his body. Preventing him from moving even though he desperately wanted to.
Suddenly, everything around him was lost in a blinding light of pure white. Rone could no longer see the mage, his companions, or even the forest of Agnar. He was adrift now in a never-ending void of pure energy.
He was just about to relinquish himself to that energy when a strange deep voice spoke to him.
“You’ll not die like this, Ranger.” The voice said just before the sweet blackness that comes with passing out overtook him. But before it did, Rone managed to catch sight of a figure in a white robe holding onto him. The healing light of his aura flowing into Rone in great waves.
Rone had no idea who this man was or where he had come from. But the gentle warmth of his healing magic and the sound of his prayers were the last things Rone heard before falling into unconsciousness.
37
When Rone awoke, he was lying in a soft bed in a room he did not recognize. The man at his bedside was strangely familiar, though he could not remember why.
As he shook the cobwebs from his head, Rone tried to sit up on the bed. When suddenly, he felt a sharp pain stretch through his chest. It was as if someone had driven a hot dagger into him when he tried to move.
Laying back onto the bed, Rone struggled to speak.
“Where am I? And what happened?” He managed to get out between waves of pain.
“So, the Thorn Dragon awakes. Don’t worry, you're safe. You’re in the crimson tower, and much has happened young Ranger. I am Kelenvor, a cleric of the one god. I have been tending to your wounds these past weeks.”
Rone was shocked to hear it had been weeks since his ordeal on the banks of the Crystal River.
“ Thorn dragon? What’s that supposed to mean, and where are my friends?” Rone asked, trying again to sit up.
“They are fine, Rone, only a few minor injuries. They managed to make it to the river before the heart burst as it did. Only the DokalFae and yourself were seriously injured. And as for the name, It’s what the acolytes have taken to calling you since we brought you here.”
“Wait? DokalFae? The mage is here as well?” Rone asked, concern crossing his face.
“No, not the mage, the female that traveled with you. She tried to shield you from the blast of energy and was wounded in the process.”
“Will she be all right?” Rone asked.
“You will both recover in time. But there is something you should know, Rone.” Kelenvor turned to Rone and was going to say something else when the door to the chambers opened, and the Arch-Mage came marching in.
“Glad to see you awake, Rone,” Thaddeus said as he sat down at a small table by the bed.
“I was just about to explain what happened to him when you entered,” Kelenvor said as he handed Rone a cup of warm ale.
“Drink that it’ll help build your strength.”
Rone took the cup and turned it up to his lips, letting the warm liquid flow into his mouth in large gulps. He hadn’t realized how parched he was until he began to drink something.
“So, he doesn’t know yet?” The Arch-Mage asked, looking at Kelenvor.
“No, he only just awoke,” was Kelenvor’s guarded reply.
“Know what?” Rone asked, eyeing both men with a growing sense of dread.
“Son, when the Dragons Heart burst, it was completely destroyed except for two small shards. One of them is embedded in your chest, and the other in the shoulder of your dark elf friend.
While her wound was not considered life-threatening, yours should have killed you. Instead, the shard is now fused to both your bodies in a way we have never seen.
Nothing like this has happened before. Not in our histories, or any other lore’s that we can find. Which leaves us asking why.
What we do know, however, is that an artifact of such power cannot be destroyed without ramifications. What those will be, are yet to be discovered.”
Rone listened intently to the Arch-Mage’s words, then asked questions of his own.
“What happened to the dark elf mage? And do Orcs still control Agnar?”
The mage managed to escape through a portal. And sadly, Agnar is lost to us as well. The cleansing worked, but the Orcs still control most of the forest. They are dug in deep, and it will take a significant force to push them out again.”
“How did I get here?” Rone asked, finally managing to sit up in the bed.
“As soon as I saw the explosion from the south shore, I opened a portal to where you were and pulled you from there. Kelenvor here healed you as best he could, and we brought you and your friends here to recover.”
So, what happens now? I’ve failed at everything I was trying to do.” Rone said, looking to the Arch-Mage for any kind of answer.
“I believe I can answer that.” Came a reply from the doorway of his room. There standing in the opening was Arch-Historian Casandra.
“I think we are in more danger now than we have ever been.” She said with a frown as she made her way into the room and sat down next to Thaddeus.
“We have much to discuss, Thorn Caller. And even more to prepare for. Dark days are coming, and if I am correct. You are the miracle we will need if we survive at all.”
Epilogue
Tolf trembled as he entered the private chambers of Lunarie Stargazer. His small hands gripping the scroll she had gave him.
When he entered the room, he realized she was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a portal leading to somewhere unknown. Tolf gathered his courage and stepped through it.
On the other side, a sharp wind struck him in the face, and he could see a small fire some thirty yards away. The lone figure of a woman stood next to the fire staring northward into the distance.
When he drew near, Tolf was relieved to find it was, in fact, Lunarie.
“Mistress, what are you doing here? And I must know why you aided the HoloFae when you knew what it would cause?” Lunarie never even looked at him as she peered into the night's sky.