The Spires of Eight - Chapter II

The world of Alagor falls into chaos and war as the Gods in the Spirit Realm rip themselves apart, the struggle of the spires now befalls upon the mortal land.

The Spires of Eight

Payton Smith

 

Chapter II

 

            The Spires of Eight, originally designed for the heavens in order to help with worship and sacrifice to the Gods and Goddesses, now only served the purpose of mortal intentions. One day the Gods’ wrath will bring their attention to the use of the spire once again. The world would be submersed in a mass war that would destroy all the innocent people, this prophesized by the Mighty King Eldredg of the Earthen Spire long ago now fell upon the people of Alagor.

 

The Angel from Above

 

            Tathara viewed the aftermath of the raid that befell upon her home a few days ago. Smoke rose from buildings that still burned endlessly and hundreds of bodies covered the streets where they would probably stay to rot away. She noticed a few looters breaking into a house that hadn’t yet caught fire, three of them all covering their faces. There was no need for the masks she thought. With no concern for the looters activity, Tathara turned her attention to spire that lay at the end of the broke city.

            It rose as tall as the trees that grew around it, with the city buildings only half the length. In the center of the Forest Spire it now swarmed with an entire colony of goblins, the creatures that assaulted it. With a sigh, Tathara looked to the forest and began to make a plan of action. Being a grand scout, she always kept a course in her head and if she didn’t leave soon the goblins would surely find here when they come out to finish off the survivors. She only had a dagger, but knew that it was all she would need to survive the wilds.

            Pulling up the hood of her robe, the young lady began to walk away, away from the only place she had ever known as home. A tear weld up in her eyes, although she had no family, all the friends made were now either dead or very far away. A blast of thunder quickly drew her attention to the sky above her, there were no clouds and the sun shone brightly, but then noticed something falling towards her. It quickly advanced towards the ground, Tathara stood still, if it was her fate to be crushed by a falling star, she embraced it.

            The star slammed into the ground sending her to the ground and shaking the few trees that were nearby. Dust that had been sent into the air began to resettle as Tathara rose to her feet. Inspecting the fallen star, she approached the hole punched into the ground by the source. Upon peering into it she saw an unconscious man in armor but he wasn’t ordinary, out of his back sprung giant wings like that of a raven or crows. His eyes snapped open and peered into Tathara’s, it startled her and she drew the dagger from her waist belt.

            The winged man rose from the hole as if someone were lifting him out and onto his feet. His armor was magnificent with jewels and metals which Tathara had never seen. The sword at his waist had a gold scabbard and the tip dragged upon the ground. Hung from the opposite side of his hip, a shield was tied to him that nearly dragged upon the ground as well. He observed Tathara for a moment and smiled, with the smile he said, “A citizen of the forest?”

            “Yes, I am,” she said hesitantly while thinking to herself what the intentions of this man maybe. “You, you fell from the sky. Who or what are you?”

            “I am Aslenaa, I am an Angel of Politheia the High Goddess of Protection.” The man said, “and I was sent here to vanquish the evil inside the Forest Spire.”

            “The evil inside the spire?” Tathara asked, “Do you mean to say the goblins?”

            “Of course.”

            “But why would the Gods, let alone one of the three High Gods, interfere so much in a mortal war?”

            “This, child of the earth, is not a mere mortal war,” Aslenaa began, “this war wages into the spiritual realm as well. The same goblins that destroyed your city are currently under the instructions of Galavine.”

            “The Guardian of the gate to the spirit world, why would he instruct them when all goblin tribes strictly swear their allegiance to Demir?” Tathara asked.

            “Demir and Galavine are the two whom have waged war on the rest of the Gods and Goddess. This has led some of the Gods to betray the order and take their own selfish intentions of becoming on top. Tathara, I was sent down to this very spot so that I may ask you for your help. Politheia told me that you knew your way around the spire, and I will need a mortals help in my quest.”

            “Why does an angel need the help of a mortal?” she asked, almost because she was scared of what may happen, even though fear rarely snuck into her.

            “I need you to sneak into the spire and rekindle the fire in the top room, while I clash with Tezzera, an Angel of Demir that guards the goblins and their spoils from a top the spire. At this very moment I feel her eyes upon me, she has been watching us since I feel from the sky. Tathara, this is very important because with so much evil in this very spire the Eternal Forest in the spirit realm burns and your Goddess, Nirithy of the Forest, now calls out for help. You can be the one to help her.”

            “I will, I will do whatever it takes,” Tathara said and as she finished her sentence she was slightly lifted into the air and armor materialized around her. It was bright emerald and covered her from her neck to her toes. Upon the chest piece was an engraved tree with a pack of wolves surrounding it, the crest of Nirithy.

            “Apparently, she wants you to stay safe.” A smile was upon Aslenaa’s face. “Politheia also wishes to give you a gift, so that you may slay evil with it.”

            A sword and shield also appeared and Tathara took them both. She stood upon the ground once more and her attention turned toward the tower. Any fear she had, was now gone, for the Gods had faith in her.

 

The Council of War

 

            King Drev, lord of the mountain people, sat at the head of the large table with every seat occupied by a high official of his court or his many children. They were a barbaric group, all of which held a full arsenal of weaponry upon their bodies. A man stood upon the top of the table, this man the only one not carrying weapons, and dressed in a full robe. He was the prophet of these people, and the only priest within miles of the Spire of the Sun. Everyone quietly listened to what the priest had to say, for it meant that there people would soon get the taste of war once again.

            “My brothers,” the prophet went on, “I have heard the voice of Talmaboar, him and his legions of demons are preparing to wage war on all others. He has commanded his people to wage war!”

            “Yes, Lorrzo,” the king stepped in, “but whom do we wage war upon?”

            “Everyone my Lord, everyone must fall to the wrath of the God of War.”

            Above in the ceiling over the councils heads windows lead to the outside. Sitting on the edge of the roof near a window a young man of nineteen sat in ear shot of all the words spoken between the council. He wore leather and had a fur cape made from a mountain bear killed by his now deceased brother. With a sigh he thought to himself, another war, and the war to end wars on top of that. I must leave these people, although I love my family, I cannot stand by them in their pursuit to destroy all enemies.

            Iolin jumped off the building and peered down the trail that led to the village he had come from. The council building was upon a small jagged hill in the center of the five lower villages. He turned and looked up the giant mountain which held the Spire of the Sun at the peak and above the clouds. Fires lit the mountain side as the city built into it got ready for the night. Turning his attention away from the city and the lower villages, he looked upon the gate that surrounded it all and tried to find the easiest way out.

            There was backpack already made up for him that was against the building wall. As he picked it up, one of the king’s guards walked around the building and spotted him. The guard shouted at him and ran towards him, but Iolin took off quickly and jumped a wall which the guard made no attempt to get over. He sprinted down the trail, feeling the cold air of the dessert night beginning to settle in. It was an easy run through the village and he quickly came to the inner wall.

            He threw the backpack upon the ground and then leaned against the wall, taking in deep breaths in order to calm the rest of his body. The distant lights of The Mou City and surrounding villages greeted him with a warm feeling. How could such a beautiful place, be full of violence, crime, and death. Iolin rubbed the sweat off his fore head then looked around him, there wasn’t a guard in sight, nor would they do anything if there were. With his attention back on the lights, he thought of his mother and father, both growing more corrupt throughout every day.

            A loud snapping sound came from a few feet of the young man causing him to quickly jump to his feet and took a knife from his pack. He felt a tapping upon his back and turned to see a man in black and red robe, with his face covered. Iolin held his knife up ready for the man to make a wrong move, he didn’t looked armed, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t anything under the robes.

            “Iolin,” a voice came from under the hood. “You must not leave your home at this time.”

            “I don’t know who you are, but there is nothing you can do to nothing you can do to convince me,” Iolin replied and kept his knife ready. “I will not be dragged into another senseless war. Who are you?”

            “I am a necromancer,” the hooded man said, “I was told to meet you here to warn you that if you leave, you won’t survive but if you stay you will.”

            “Why am I so important to you, a stranger?” he asked.

            “Demir wants you alive for a big plan,” he said with a chuckle. “You see, Talmaboar, Demir, and Galavine plan to take the world with the help of their followers. Have you not noticed the dark presence of death and despair in your city lately?”

            A voice crept into Iolin’s mind, unlike that of the warlocks, and softly told him, “Iolin, do not heed the word of this vile being. Its’ words are lies and corruption. It is not living, see for yourself.”

            Iolin quickly lifted the hood of the cloaked creature to reveal a skeletal head with a purple light glowing from its’ eyes.

 

A Vision of Truth

            It was an orb that showed the viewer the events taking place in different realms. Teir’veal, a mage of Coastal, looked deep into the orb and saw the nightmare unfolding in the spiritual plane. Already stress had filled him from the sights he seen through the orb so far. The Eternal Forest was ablaze, the Eternal Sea caught in a terrible storm, the Dragons left the spiritual plane in order to avoid the chaos and disruption of the worlds, the soul armies of the Gods caught in back and forth struggle, and Gathilfir, High God of Order, abandoned his own in the midst of the chaos between each other.

            Never in the history of Alagor had the spiritual realm been dependent on the events taken place in the mortal world. At this very moment the civilians of Coastal abandoned the city and palace. The Royals were long gone, the greedy b******s ran long ago, he thought to himself. His mind went to the group of demons that were sent from Galavine to obtain the spire Coastal. They ravaged the city at night killing mercilessly, and then retreating to the spire during the day.

            It was almost night and they would be at it again, so Teir’veal peered into the orb once more to see if anything had changed. As he looked in the sight of the Eternal Forest came into view and he noticed that it no longer was on fire and a light shined brightly from the center of the burnt trees.

            Something or someone had saved the forest, he had no idea how it would be possible because he knew the Forest Spire was under control of the goblin tribes now. A smile grew across his face, but as soon as it was up it went down, for he heard the sound of the sunset bell ringing in the distance. Quickly, the mage wrote down what he had learned from the orb and tied it to the leg of a raven. He sent it out with hopes it would get to the right people and began his wait. There was hardly any life in the city besides him, so they were bound to find him tonight.