allendalepharm Page 99
Page 99
“As long as we find Captain Alvin,” Kevoran whispered, “we can leave safely.”
However, just as they were passing through a narrow alley, they heard the rapid sound of horses' hooves and shouts behind them.
"The army of Santyr!" Eden suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse and urgent, "They've found us!"
The four quickened their pace and turned into a sparsely populated street. Suddenly, several warriors in black armor rushed out from the alleys on both sides and blocked their way.
"Let's split up!" Kevoran shouted, shoving Midnight and Isis aside. "See you at the port!"
In the chaos, the four were separated. Isis and Midnight ran hand in hand toward an alley, but were intercepted by a troop of cavalry at the corner. A conflict was inevitable, and a dazzling silver light suddenly exploded in front of them, sending the cavalry flying several meters away.
A familiar figure stood at the alley entrance—an elderly man with white hair, a shabby black-gray robe, a pipe puffing smoke, and yellow teeth.
"Elminster!" Midnight exclaimed, unable to believe his eyes.
The old man had a sullen face. With a wave of his staff, another wave of silver light sent approaching enemies flying.
“Come with me.” His voice was urgent and impatient. “We need to find your friends quickly and get out of this city. Things are more complicated than you think.”
Isis and Midnight exchanged a glance, then followed the old man. The magical fluctuations in the air intensified, and the divine power within them resonated, as if welcoming the return of some great force.
Above, Casalos, sensing the magic that had completely calmed the world around him as the fates of the two girls intersected, also wore a strange expression.
60. The Fallen God
Isis looked up at the black flag hoisted by the Santyr warship, the skull of the Bane emblem gleaming silver in the night sky, and suddenly felt that all of this was so familiar.
"We've been discovered!" Captain Alvin's voice came from the stern. The burly man chewed on a piece of seaweed, his calloused fingers gripping the helm tightly, pointing towards the ironclad steamships in the distance. These warships were covered by iron armor with black rams, their stern funnels trailing long plumes of black smoke, while rows of ancient ballistae stood on their decks—a perfect display of Faerûn's bizarre technological tree.
"If only we had Dragon Territory's warships..." Isis shook her head, banishing the unrealistic thought from her mind, her white hair rippling with magical energy. Now was not the time to think about such things.
They were separated in the chaos at the Scarred Valley docks, and had it not been for Elminster's miraculous appearance that guided them to meet again at the dilapidated fish market, they would likely have fallen into the hands of the Santir once more. But the old sage's return was not as comforting as one might have imagined—he was eccentric, always had a pipe in his mouth, spoke with a sharp tongue, and was impatient with everyone, as if the world owed him a great deal of money.
“There are Bane’s priests on the warships,” Kevoran warned, “four capital ships, at least twenty assassins.”
As he stepped out of the hatch at midnight, his black robes almost blending into the night: "I can feel the fluctuations of magic. They are casting spells to locate us. The God of Strife is nearby, allowing the dark priests' divine spells to still work normally."
Isis gripped Midnight's hand tightly, and the two exchanged a glance. A strange power flowed between them. This power had been brewing since that night, and now, after their two reunions, it had become even stronger and more stable.
“Stop the ship,” Isis said firmly. “Midnight and I will deal with them.”
“Heh,” Elminster’s hoarse laughter rang out. The old mage, pipe in mouth, leaned against the mast, his gray beard fluttering in the sea breeze. “This little show isn’t enough for me to get involved. But if you want to try some new tricks, I won’t stop you.” Although his tone was gruff, his attitude towards the two young mages was noticeably gentler.
Midnight hesitated for a moment, then suddenly grabbed Elminster's arm: "Wait, before we do anything, you owe us an explanation. What exactly happened at the Temple of Losanda? We all thought you were dead!"
The old mage abruptly pulled his arm back, a flash of annoyance in his eyes: "Now? Are you serious? The Zantir fleet is right behind us. You want to chat idly here?"
“Now,” Eton said calmly but firmly, “we need to know the truth.”
Isis did not stop them; the issue concerned the unresolved conflict between Midnight and Eton. Although the ship they were on was stolen, the merchant ships of Dragon Bay were steam-powered iron-hulled vessels, which were not yet effective against the crossbow fire.
Elminster cursed and took a deep drag on his pipe. "Damn it, fine." He gestured for everyone to come closer and said in a low voice, "The instability of the magic network caused my attempt to summon the Eye of Eternity to fail. The rift leads straight to the Scorching Hell, a place filled with terrifying monsters."
He paused briefly to confirm the location of the distant warship: "I knew that it could only be completely sealed off on the other side of the rift, because the magic there is relatively stable. So I took the initiative to enter the rift, head to the Scorching Hell, and sealed that damned door from the inside."
"You're trapped outside the country?" Midnight gasped, turning to look at Isis, as if to say: What your mentor said was actually true.
"The Scorching Hell was the home of the Goddess of Pain, Lauvita, before she was banished from the realm of the gods," the old mage's eyes turned gloomy, his lips twitching. "Trying to escape from there? Ha! I had to fight imps, demon bats, and a whole bunch of evil creatures you can't even imagine."
He subconsciously rubbed his arms, as if those memories made him feel cold: "Finally, I found an area that even monsters dared not approach—a small sacred site left behind in the Scorching Hell centuries ago when Mystra and Lauvita had a quarrel."
His voice grew even more sinister: "When I finally return to Shadow Valley, all I'll have to do is clean up the mess and continue tracking you. Is that enough? Or do you want to keep wasting time until the Santyrs capture us all?"
The ship slowed down at Captain Alvin's command. Midnight and Isis came to the bow, and Isis took a magic bottle from her bag and handed it to Midnight: "My mentor gave it to me; it contains elemental energy."
Four warships closed to within the range of the ballistae, and the shouts of the Bane followers could be clearly heard. On the foremost warship, the black-armored soldiers were already turning the ballistae, the winches creaking as they cocked them.
The two women's spells intertwined. At that moment, Midnight, through Isis's demonic eyes, also saw the chaotic energy lines.
Chapter 311
The lines became clear and orderly in her perception. The magic bottle shattered in their hands, releasing multicolored elemental energy—
A beam of seven-colored light shot from their fingertips, instantly forming a gigantic elemental dragon that roared as it charged toward the Zantir warship. The elemental dragon opened its blood-red maw and crashed straight into the lead warship, instantly engulfing it in an elemental storm.
The sound of steel snapping, accompanied by screams, echoed through the night sky. Elemental storms raged, tearing masts, decks, and armored shells to shreds. Priest Bane, standing on the foredeck, hastily erected a magical barrier, but it crumbled under the impact of the elemental dragons, and he was swept into the storm and vanished.
The heavy warship broke apart under the impact of the magic, steel and wood chips flew everywhere, and seawater rushed in. In less than a minute, the entire warship sank into the dark sea, leaving only floating wreckage and the cries for help from the surviving sailors.
The sailors on the remaining three warships witnessed everything, and fear gripped their hearts. The warships turned around, black smoke billowing from their smokestacks, fleeing this terrible magical attack.
Isis and Midnight nestled together at the bow of the ship, a strange tranquility descending upon them.
The ship set sail again, cutting through the waves and speeding towards Tanris.
Above the clouds, Casalos silently observed everything. It saw the spells cast by Isis and Midnight, their power far exceeding their spellcasting abilities. Mystra's divine power resonated within the two young mages, creating a completely new possibility.
“It has begun,” it murmured to itself. “Elminster has returned much earlier than I remember. Is this a disturbance caused by my involvement in the Battle of Shadow Valley?”
Iron Dragon glanced at the fleeing Zantir warship, spread its wings, circled briefly, and then flew forward. There, the city of Tanris was already emerging on the horizon, a "sun" that never sets hovering above the Temple of Tom, its dazzling light visible even from this distance.
The three-day voyage was calm and uneventful. Casalos maintained a safe distance from the merchant ship throughout, but never left it. It saw the ship arrive at the port of Tanris on the morning of the third day, and saw Isis, Midnight, Kevoran, Eden, and Elminster disembark and disperse into the city.
Elminster waved irritably at the crowd and headed straight for a run-down tavern. His behavior was more like that of a drunken rogue than a legendary mage—shoving people aside without apologizing, yelling at the waiters, and deliberately slamming his glass on the table while drinking. The collapse of the magic network, the fall of the goddess of magic, and his self-imposed exile seemed to have inflicted unimaginable psychological trauma on this thousand-year-old man; his emotions were constantly on the verge of exploding.
Casalos saw Eden walk alone toward the Temple of Thom, his face gaunt yet resolute in the eternal sunlight. The priest had become taciturn since realizing he had been abandoned by the Fire-Haired Lady, but questions remained unanswered in his heart; perhaps the true god descended upon Tanris—Thom, the god of loyalty and righteousness—could provide the answers.
Kavoran headed to the dock area, where he was familiar with navigation and trade and knew where to get the latest intelligence. Iron Dragon saw him enter a tavern called "Dark Harvest" and head straight for the back hall, where cheers and shouts rang out—an underground arena.
"It seems this guy isn't looking for intelligence, but rather for a way to vent his frustrations," Casalos thought to himself.
Kavoran's face was grim, radiating a chilling rage. His affair with Isis at midnight, his deal with Bane, and the betrayal of his friend Cyric—his emotions had been simmering on the verge of exploding. He needed an outlet, and the underground arena provided just that opportunity.
Casalos had seen these underground fighting arenas—almost every major city in Faerûn had one, serving as both entertainment venues and places where repressed souls sought release.
Kevoran neither placed a bet nor joined the cheers of the crowd; he simply took off his coat, picked up a blunt sword provided by the ring, and joined the fight.
Just as Kavoran had won three consecutive matches and become the temporary champion, a tall, gloomy figure and a lean man walked into the tavern. Casalos's dragon eyes could easily recognize them even through the clouds.
Cyric, who had strayed further and further from the right path, was accompanied by a lithe, sinister-looking stranger. The man, who had removed his heavy armor and infiltrated Tanris by hiding in a cargo crate, was Durok, an assassin from Bane.
Cyric saw the fierce battle of Kavoran in the arena, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes. He whispered something to Durok, a cold smile appearing on the assassin's lips, before removing his cloak and walking towards the arena.
Durok declared his challenge to the reigning champion, and Kavoran spotted Cyric; their eyes met in mid-air. A life-or-death battle erupted in the ring. Durok's strength far exceeded Kavoran's expectations; every strike was powerful and perfectly timed—it seemed this guy would soon be on the verge of becoming a legend. Kavoran was at a disadvantage, and within a few rounds, he was covered in wounds.
But the warrior did not give up. He burned with rage in every muscle, unleashing the last of his strength. Finally, in a near-fatal exchange, Kavoran seized a brief opening in Durok's defenses, his blunt sword piercing the assassin's throat.
When he looked up to find Cyric, the traitor had vanished without a trace.
Meanwhile, Midnight and Isis walked hand in hand into the city center, visiting the famous Elan Atricus Bell Tower, a magical structure even older than Tanris. According to the prophetic fragments, if the bell were rung, it could protect the city from any magical attack.
Unfortunately, no one has ever been able to ring this sacred bell.
Two young monks stood beneath the bell tower, gazing up at the weathered face of the bell, seemingly drawn by some indescribable force.
Casalos flew towards the Temple of Tom, where the scene made it frown. The temple's perimeter was packed with worshippers, chanting Tom's name with fanatical expressions, while the temple's priests used this fervor to amass vast amounts of money and valuables. Eden was left standing in the temple's rear courtyard plaza, his requests ignored, until a tall figure, radiant under arcane vision, approached him.
The iron dragon rapidly ascended, concealing itself behind the temple "Sun," avoiding all possible sensory range. At this height, it could no longer discern details, but it could sense the unique power fluctuations emanating from the human figure. Tom himself had appeared and was speaking with Eden.
Casalos waited patiently, gazing into the distance where the fleet of Santyr had begun to regroup, and the forces of Bane stirred in the darkness.
The eternal sunlight above the Temple of Tom illuminates every corner of the city; there is no night, no shadow, only endless brightness—a sign that the holy light of the faithful god has dispelled all darkness. However, the truth hidden behind this holy light is more complex than anyone can imagine.
Eden leaned against the stone wall in the backyard of the Temple of Tom, his clothes soaked with sweat. His thoughts drifted back to his conversation with the high priest an hour earlier.
“A pastor who has lost his faith is nothing, and your faith is in grave danger.” Dunn Tevis’s voice was sorrowful and full of concern. “Did you come here seeking help and fabricate that lie about wanting to see Tom?”
"Maybe," Aiton mumbled, forcing himself to show a look of shame to hide his inner fear.
The high priest warned him that he could enter any room bearing the Tom emblem, but all other places were off-limits. "If you ignore this warning, you will be severely punished." Beneath that perfect smile lay a palpable threat.
Now, Ayton sat in the garden at the edge of the temple, a golden lion statue standing in the center, seemingly lazily observing him. He dropped his pretense, scrutinizing the strangeness within the temple. Clearly, something ominous was underway, and Tom seemed completely unaware of it. Like other fallen gods, he was forced to...
Chapter 312
He possessed the body of a mortal and walked the world in the form of a saint.
“The gods are just as fragile as we are,” Aiton murmured sadly to himself.
“I’ve had this suspicion for a long time,” a voice said calmly.
The pastor turned around and stood before him a handsome man with reddish-amber hair, dark blue eyes that shimmered with blackish-purple light, and a face as radiant as the afterglow of the setting sun.
“I am Tom, whom believers call the ‘God of the Present,’ but I suppose you already know that I am merely one of the fallen gods of Faerûn.” He extended his hand, clad in an iron gauntlet, to Aidon.
61. The Saint Strikes
Aiton slumped his shoulders, thinking: just another Tom follower sent to test him. "Stop torturing me! If this is just another test for me..."
Tom frowned and waved to the golden lion statue. Suddenly, the statue came to life, letting out a deep roar, and obediently walked to the deity's side. "Will this convince you?"
“Many mages can pull off such tricks. Even if your god were nearby, only a madman or a fool would cast illusions now. Magic is far too dangerous.” Aiton stood up to leave.
“By all realms! It has been so long since anyone dared to defy me like this.” Tom’s face darkened, and the golden lion stretched and stood beside him again. “While I admire boldness, like that of Elton of Sunny, I do not tolerate insubordination.”
Aiton finally saw the power in the man's eyes—a power and wisdom far beyond what any human could possess. He was truly gazing into the eyes of a god! The priest bowed his head. "Forgive me, Tom. I thought you would be with your entourage; I didn't expect you to appear alone in the garden."
“Oh, so you’re willing to believe me now?” Tom asked, stroking his beard.
Aiton scoffed inwardly: Faith? I've witnessed pigs being slaughtered on the chopping block of the gods, I've seen the object of the mad worship of the people of Faerûn turn out to be a narrow-minded tyrant... What faith do I have? I just know how to protect myself.
Tom explained that he had left a phantom on the throne and arrived at the garden through the Diamond Corridor—a labyrinth connecting all the rooms of the temple. “I heard you had something to tell me…you said you saw Heim.”
Elton recounted his adventures in detail, but concealed the fact that Cyric had been murdered and that the stone tablet was hidden in Tanris.
“Bane and Melkor!” Tom roared. “I knew those cunning bastards were the real culprits who stole the stone tablets. So Mystra is dead, and her power has been scattered throughout the entire magic network! What terrible news.”
Someone entered the garden, saw them talking, and hurriedly ran back to the temple. Aiton knew that Tom's followers would arrive soon.
“I regret that I cannot help you save the kingdom,” Tom said. “I am needed here, and I have a responsibility to my believers.” His hand brushed across the scar on Aiton’s face. “But in other ways, I can help. If you want to get rid of this darkness and guilt that keeps eroding you and causing you pain, you must examine your own heart. Tell me, who were you before you accepted the divine mandate of faith?”
Aiton dodged the deity's hand. "I... am nothing. I am a burden to my parents, and I have no real friends."
"But now, friends and lovers adorn your life. Don't waste your life in self-pity, Elton of Sunny. If your heart is heavy with sorrow, you can't even help your friends... let alone fulfill your duty to the gods."
Hearing the commotion from inside the temple, Aiton quickly approached Tom: "Thank you for your advice, Tom. Now it's my turn to fulfill my duty and help you. Tanris and everything in the temple are not as normal as they seem. The power around you is enough to destroy the entire city. You must see what the priests have done for you. Not all reverence is based on justice..."
A sudden commotion arose as a dozen priests swarmed into the garden, kneeling before Tom and rattling off a list of trivial matters that the gods "must attend to." The golden lion impatiently let out a chilling roar, which slightly silenced the clamor. Tom rose, smiled slightly at Aiton, and strode toward the nearest exit, the golden lion and the priests following closely behind like a swarm of ants.
Within minutes, Ayton was taken from the garden and locked in a bare, dark room. It reminded him of the cell he shared with midnight in the Rugged Tower, but he forced himself to shake off those dark thoughts. Hours later, a silent guard brought a plate of food, and Ayton, his stomach growling with hunger, spent a full hour finishing the half-spoiled bread and cheese. Shortly after, a white-haired man entered the room, that repulsive, perfectly perfect smile playing on his lips.
“Tyvis!” Ayton jumped to his feet.
“You took a really risky day,” the high priest said, his tone like that of a scolding child, which was pure insult to Aiton. “Want to talk?”
“My meeting with Tom is over, and I’m about to leave. Why are your guards stopping me?” Aiton frowned, the scars on his face darkening.
“My guards?” Tyvis sneered. “They are all Tom’s guards, and they only obey his will.”
"Did he order me to be locked up here?"
“Not entirely,” Tyvis admitted, stroking his chin. “You’re not being ‘imprisoned.’ The door isn’t locked, and there are no guards outside.” He pushed the door open. “It’s just that you might get lost in Tom’s Diamond Corridor before you reach the exit. That would be unfortunate; many people who get lost there are never heard from again.”
Aiton lowered his head in despair and slumped back against the wall.
“I’ll come pick you up in a few hours. Tom’s court has arranged to see you, hopefully that will put your mind at ease.” Tyvis left confidently, the silhouette of his perfect smile in the darkness sending chills down one’s spine.
Unbeknownst to him, Aidon had fallen into a deep sleep. When Tyvis returned with two guards, he roughly shook him awake. As they walked through the corridors, a plan gradually took shape in Aidon's mind: once out of the narrow passages, he would seize weapons from the guards and escape the temple at all costs. He carefully maintained his distance from the guards, while deliberately talking nonsense, and sure enough, the two guards lowered their guard.
Just as Ayton was about to make his move, an old man with a white beard carrying a harp suddenly appeared at the end of the corridor. Ayton immediately snatched the torch from the wall, abandoned Thavis and the guards, and ran towards the old man.
"Elminster!" Aiton shouted as he ran.
The old man, who was arguing with another priest, looked up in surprise. When he saw Aiton running over, his face showed surprise, but then his expression darkened and he remained motionless.
The young pastor stopped before the old man, the torchlight illuminating his face—upon closer inspection, this man did not appear to be Elminster. Just as Eaton was about to turn away, he noticed that the tip of the old man's nose was beginning to melt.
“Elminster!” Aiden’s voice was hoarse as the guards of Tyvis closed in.
The bard glanced around and, before the Tom followers could react, immediately cast a spell. Blue and white magical smoke filled the corridor.
“All of you will accompany me and Elton out of the temple and out of the castle, and then you will return here as if nothing had happened.”
Elminster gave the order, and Tevis and his men nodded stiffly. The sage smiled—the group suggestion spell had actually worked! In the midst of the chaotic magic network, this was the only successful spell. He guessed that Tom must be nearby, stabilizing the magic.
Elton stood there in astonishment: "Elminster, why are you here?"
“It’s not for your worthless life, I can assure you.” The mage wiped the wax from his nose. “Unfortunately, you’ve left me with no choice.” He followed Priest Tom, then looked back at the immobilized Aiton. “You’ve also been affected by the spell. If you don’t hurry, I’ll send you somewhere else—though you might not like it…”
Chapter 313
"