The warm mug of tea warded off the morning cold as Bera Dallin stood atop the stone wall. The small town of Kainek sat quietly at her back, and the vast land of Praetoria stretched out before her as far as she could see. She wore no armor and had no weapon at her side. It felt good to just be herself, and not ready for battle.
Bera took a sip of her tea and sighed. It was the first time in a few weeks she’d been able to actually relax. Ever since they had defeated Obsidian, there had been constant work to do. The town needed repair, people needed healing, and the dead needed to be buried. Finally, all had settled down, and Bera could focus on the healing she needed for herself, as well as of her companions.
They have held up well under such stress. Her thoughts drifted to the young Fiafia Haoa, and Delya of the Xenith Scale. They were instrumental in our victory. Though it is a sad time in our history for adolescents to go to war because no place is safe.
Bera worried about Fiafia and Delya. She also worried about her elven friend River Hellondale and how much demand had been put on him to heal the wounded. She mostly worried, though, about the future of the Splinterlands.
A shape on the dawn horizon drew her from her thoughts. At first she thought it was a red bird, but as it drew closer she saw it was a bird far larger than any she’d ever seen, and it bore a rider on its back. The bird circled around the town and landed before the entry gates, a fierce expression on its face and a tail that rippled out like ribbons. The guards of Kainek immediately moved to confront this unexpected visitor. Bera slowly moved along the walls herself, knowing she had no weapon but still confident in her ability to fight with fists and feet.
The rider slid to the ground. He was a strange looking man, seemingly made of fire with grand red robes. He began speaking quickly to the guards. His voice carried on the gentle breeze, allowing Bera to make out a few words as she approached.
“... urgent, I . . . speak with Bera Dallin . . . please.”
“I am sorry, sir,” one of the guards stated, “but we are only letting invited people within the town walls now. We just recovered from an attack.”
“I understand,” the flaming man replied, “but this truly cannot wait. Is Bera Dallin still here?”
“I am here,” Bera said, looking down at him from above the town gate. “Who are you?”
The tense line in his shoulders softened in relief. “My name is Joaken of the Efreet, and I have come a long way to find you.”
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An anxious energy filled Burgomaster William’s office as Joaken told his tale. Bera and River both paced as they listened, moving in and out of the sunlight that came in through the tall windows. Fiafia sat on one of the chairs and Delya sat on the arm of another, listening intently. The Burgomaster himself sat at his desk, hands clasped before him and his brow furrowed.
Joaken spoke to them of the long journey he’d been on in an effort to save the Splinterlands from the Chaos Legion. He spoke of the Chaos Invasion and how nearly all of the world had fallen, and only a few strongholds still remained. He spoke of the Wizard’s Council betrayal led by Portia. He finished by telling them of his meeting with the wizards Aggroedius and Yabanius, and how they currently battled against an eldritch god. They were busy holding close a portal this god was attempting to breach. Once Joaken was done, Burgomaster William sat heavily back with a sigh.
“The situation is worse than I feared, then,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I knew Praetoria was under full Chaos Legion control, but I had hope it was better in the rest of the Splinterlands.”
“What can we do against such darkness?” River questioned, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.
“Hope is not yet lost,” Joaken assured. “I have learned of a group called the Riftwatchers, that make it their mission to battle the Chaos Legion with a goal of one day stopping them completely. The Riftwatchers seek to enter through a portal to come here and help in our fight. That is why I have come for your aid.” His burning gaze moved to Bera. “The way for the Riftwatchers to enter must be opened on our end. I have been given the means to do so by Aggroedius himself.”
“Why have you come to us?” Bera inquired.
“Aggroedius told me to find the dwarf leader that travels with a river elf and a girl born on the ocean under the sign of a crossed skull.” He gestured across them all, the long sleeve of his robe draping down. “I have followed rumors and tales until I heard of the battle that happened here.”
“But we are not special,” Fiafia protested. “Surely there is someone else to go to for help.”
Joaken shook his head firmly. “I trust the wisdom of a wizard as powerful as Aggroedius. It is you all who are needed to open the way for the Riftwatchers.”
“Can we do this here and now?” Delya asked.
“Unfortunately, it is not that simple. In my possession is a scroll with rites that must be invoked and words that must be said within an ancient elemental temple that has been lost to the ages. We must journey there and complete this ritual.”
Delya leaned back, a frown twisting her face. “I have to agree with Fiafia on this one. This scroll should be taken to the Order of the Xenith Scale. They have the knowledge and experience to deal with such items.”
“I disagree,” Bera replied. “If this scroll is our one chance of saving our world, then the Xenith Scale is too high-profile of a place to venture with it. The agents of the Chaos Legion will easily see us.”
“It should be a secret mission, then,” the Burgomaster stated. “An odyssey through the wilderness of Praetoria, off the roads, and to this temple.”
“We must travel in a small group,” River said. “As to not attract too much attention.”
Joaken brightened, hope in his gaze. “You will accompany me to this temple, then?”
Bera stared hard at the ground for a moment, realizing the momentous task before her. She looked back to the efreet. “I will do what I must to save the Splinterlands.”
“I will go with you.” River stepped up beside the dwarf. “We will see this through to the end.”
Fiafia looked hard at the efreet. “This wizard, Aggroedius, mentioned me?” When Joaken nodded, she continued, “I am no one special, but I want the Chaos Legion gone as much as everyone else. I’ll join.”
Delya hopped to her feet. “Of course I’m going. You all will need someone to watch your backs while you do this ritual.” She tapped her bow.
Burgomaster William stood up. “I will ensure you have any necessary supplies before you set out. But first,” he pulled a rolled-up parchment from his desk and spread it out, “I have a map of Praetoria here. Joaken, please show us the location of this temple.”
The group gathered around the map as Joaken tapped the location of Kainek, centrally located in Praetoria. His finger then traced upwards, out of the Central Fire territory and into the Wild Northeast. His finger went further to a dark line on the map.
“Here,” he stated. “It lies within the Abyssal Canyon.”
“Hmm, that is far,” the Burgomaster observed. “It will take you more than a month if you are not delayed.”
“Then that is what we will do,” Bera said matter-of-factly. There was no hope or courage in her voice, only acceptance of the situation. “Let’s get ready and leave tomorrow morning.”
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The wilds of Praetoria were harsh and unforgiving. Staying off any paths or roads to avoid the Chaos Legion’s eyes, the group navigated by map alone. Bera was pleased to find that Fiafia, Delya, and Joaken were all very skilled in reading the terrain and finding routes. Joaken had sent his bird away for a time to attract less attention, assuring them the bird would return when needed.
They crossed the foothills of the Mountains of Fire, the great range that dominated central Praetoria. They had to hide often in the rocky terrain to avoid scouting Chaos Legion patrols that remained in proximity of the volcano, the Mountain of Ash. Leaving the foothills behind, they soon came to the River of Angels, the great divide between the Central Fire territory and the Wild Northeast. Crossing was difficult, but they managed with only a few scrapes and bruises. After a few days across the plains, they reached the dense green of the Emerald Jungle. While the interior provided a reprieve from the sun and wind, it was overgrown and difficult to keep their bearings.
Bera could see the journey weighing on all of her companions. Travel was rough, and even when they slept it was with constant fear that they would be discovered. The fate of the Splinterlands rested with them, and as each new day passed that burden grew heavier and heavier.
One night as they camped within the Emerald Jungle, Bera pulled out the map. Lit by the light of their campfire, she observed what lay ahead.
“Once we get free of the jungle,” Bera said, “the Gravestone Swamplands await us. Then it's a journey through the Drybone Badlands until we reach the canyon.” She sighed. “It’s still a long way.”
“If we traveled closer to the road,” Delya began, “then we could make better time.”
“It’s too risky,” Bera dissented.
“But it’s worth the payoff! Big risk, bigger reward.”
Bera shook her head. “No, I will not lead us closer to the road and risk jeopardizing our entire quest.”
Delya huffed, leaning back against her bedroll. Bera was tired of the young Delya challenging her at every turn, always pushing for faster ways that put them in more danger.
“We can fight off any attackers,” Delya said in a quieter tone, “and even if we are hurt, River can heal us.”
River’s eyebrows pinched together and anxiety was heavy in his tone as he spoke. “I do not like the burden falling on me to save us. Healing magic is not easy, and it takes a great deal out of me.”
“Let’s just trust Bera,” Fiafia advised. “She always leads us in the right direction.”
Bera sighed and pushed her hair back from her face. Her gaze flicked over to Joaken, who watched the fire quietly. He was usually silent, not offering suggestions in these arguments that seemed to break out with more frequency the longer they traveled.
They went to bed on edge that night, and woke up even more irritable the next morning. Tempers were high as they traveled through the harsh jungle for three more days, avoiding dangerous plants and animals and remaining on alert for enemies.
At last the jungle broke and they were faced with a vast gray swampland. An unnatural fog clung to the area, obscuring the sky and dropping the temperature. Trees sagged as if weeping, their branches touching the murky water’s surface. Muddy, boggy ground was interspersed between stretches of water. The air was filled with the buzz of insects, and the smell of rot. Bera could just barely make out the tops of ancient stone tombstones that stuck out from the ground and water, earning this swamp its name.
“It’s horrible,” Fiafia said, crinkling her nose. “How did it get like this?”
“Texts in the Xenith Scale library say,” Delya began, “that these gravestones are from centuries if not thousands of years ago, the writing has all worn off with time. No one knows who is buried here or what happened to the civilization. This is all that is left.”
“This place is unsafe,” Joaken observed. “I can feel a shift here. Death mana is strong, and traces of necromancy linger. We must be very cautious.”
“If it’s too dangerous we should go around,” Bera suggested. “It will not do for us to perish here from the elements or undead.”
“That will take forever,” Delya complained, arms crossed. “We don’t have time to go around.”
Bera ignored the headache that pulsed every time Delya challenged her. The dwarf relented, “Fine. Follow my lead, then, and do exactly as I say.”
Bera trekked forward, Fiafia mirroring her movements exactly. The others followed. It was a long day of navigating through the muck, and when it came time to make camp it was even more difficult to find a dry area. After an hour of searching with exhausted bodies and short tempers, they found a rocky area out of the water’s reach. It was uncomfortable, but at least it wasn’t wet. Deciding not to light a fire, they sat quietly eating their dinner.
Suddenly Delya’s head snapped up. She stared off into the darkness, frowning.
“What is it?” River asked.
“There’s . . . something out there,” the archer whispered. “I heard it move.”
“I can go look,” Fiafia suggested, looking to Bera for approval. “I am really stealthy.”
“No, it’s too dangerous,” the dwarf replied. “I will look.”
Bera climbed off the rocks and back down into the mud. Her eyes combed the night, struggling to see what had put Delya on alert. She drifted out several feet, not wanting to put too much distance between herself and the camp. Just when she was about to give up, she made out movement. It was only just visible, like part of the darkness itself had shifted. But there was a presence. It was heavy and made a pit of dread settle in Bera’s stomach.
The dwarf pulled out her sword, backing up towards the camp. Whatever it was did not follow. She waited for one minute, two, and then several until she could not feel it anymore. It was gone.
Returning to the camp, Bera knelt and said quietly, “There was definitely something, but I think it left.”
“A person?” Joaken asked.
“I don’t think so. We should keep careful watch in case it returns.”
Sleeping was not easy that night as they took turns keeping watch. During each of their watches, they woke up the others when the creature returned. Any attempt at finding it, however, was futile.
The next morning they were all tired from the restless night, but pushed onward all the same. Two more days passed exactly the same way. The days were quiet, still, and foreboding, but the nights brought the stalker. They barely slept, and their pace of travel slowed. It was late evening the third day when another argument broke out.
“We must leave this swamp,” Bera commanded. “There are still more days of traveling to cross it, and we will be easy prey if we keep pushing on while exhausted.”
All of her companions stared back at her with drawn faces, dark circles under their eyes, and a tired hunch to their backs.
“We cannot leave,” Delya complained, still managing to sound fiery despite her exhaustion. “We’ve come so far already. We have to find this stalker and fight it. No more hiding and sneaking and watching. We take the fight to it!”
“That’s easier said than done,” Bera snapped.
“I am really sorry, Bera,” Fiafia began, “but I have to side with Delya on this. I’m tired of being hunted. Let’s hunt it. We are all strong, we stopped Obsidian, after all.”
River ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. “We are strong, yes, but we have fought people and fungus creatures and elementals. Not something made of darkness and undeath.”
Fiafia took a step forward. “While we fight, if you stay back and heal us--”
“Enough!” River growled, his temper at last broken. “I will not accept the burden of being everyone’s savior when they take unnecessary risks!”
A stunned silence held over the group. Bera had never seen her friend lose his temper before or shout at anyone. A hurt look crossed Fiafia’s face, but Delya only seemed to be more fired up. Joaken watched, as usual, silently.
Bera spoke up, her tone unyielding. “This conversation is over until we can all communicate with clearer heads. Make camp. We can decide our course of action when everyone is calmer.”
Camp was quickly erected on another patch of rocks, no one saying a word. With gray evening light still giving the swamp some visibility, Bera walked a few yards away from the camp and sat on a tangle of roots. She needed space to think. Despite her quick control of the argument, her heart was pounding and her nerves on edge.
Bera sighed and rested her chin in one palm. “What am I going to do with them all?”
“They look up to you,” Joaken’s voice sounded behind her.
The dwarf glanced over her shoulder at him. “I don’t think I’m someone they should look up to.”
Joaken drifted around and sat across from her, his hands buried in his sleeves. “What makes you say that? You are a Dallin, after all.”
A tired laugh escaped her. “You know the family name?”
“I did my research to know who Aggroedius was sending me after. Your ancestry is impressive. Leaders, advisors, military captains, and heroes. You must be very proud to come from such a family.”
Bera stared at the ripples on the murky water as she answered. “I suppose so. A story is passed down in my family. That generations ago, a Dallin sacrificed himself to save a town from a horrible monster. A goddess saw his selflessness, and in his honor blessed his bloodline. Every Dallin has something special about them, and is destined to do great things because the blood of that hero flows through us all.”
“That is an inspiring story.” When she didn’t answer or look up, he added, “You do not seem to be inspired, however.”
“I was when I was younger. It’s what drove me to journey to Praetoria and lead New Everitt. But now . . .”
“Now what?”
Bera looked up at him, making a sweeping gesture. “It’s all different now. We’ve been invaded by the Chaos Legion. The Splinterlands is on its knees. I know everyone expects greatness from me, whether they know the Dallin history or not. But . . .” She gave a long exhale. “I’m worried about living up to it. Times are worse now than they have ever been. I’m worried that I will be the only Dallin failure, the end of a great line. I’m worried that I will mess it all up now when it matters the most.”
“You have already spoken the solution to this worry you feel,” he stated with a small smile.
Bera cocked one eyebrow.
“Yes, the Dallin line is one of heroes, but not everyone knows this. The young Fiafia and Delya do not. I have a feeling River Hellondale followed you even before he knew of your family.”
“Well . . . yes.”
“The Burgomaster of Kainek easily trusted you with this quest because he saw your leadership and courage during the battle to defend his town. All of these people follow your lead because you have demonstrated being worthy of it. Not because of a name.”
Bera couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth at that. “I want to be good enough for those three.” She nodded her head towards the camp. “Fiafia admires me almost like a mother, and because of that I get overprotective. River is such a good friend with such a soft heart, and I’m always trying to be his shield against the world. I am not even sure how to handle Delya, she’s always fighting with me.”
“Focus on their strengths, Bera Dallin. Aggroedius thought they were worthy of this task for a reason.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “I believe you know that reason if you can see past your own stress and burdens.”
Bera blinked, and a sincere smile spread across her face. “You are right.” She stood. “I believe I know just what to do.”
Bera marched back to the camp, Joaken trailing after her. She bounded up the rocks, put her hands on her hips, and looked across her three companions. They looked up at her, confused at this change in attitude.
“I know this has all been hard,” Bera stated. “I know we are tired and hurt. I know we all feel the weight of this mission. I also know we have argued and gotten on one another’s nerves. But I believe it is only our strengths showing. River,” she looked to the elf, “you are my oldest friend and the kindest soul I have ever met. You ask so much of yourself, but that is because you are capable of rising to every challenge. Fiafia,” she looked to the pirate girl, “I am happy to teach and mentor you as much as you’d like. That is because I do see greatness in you, a person who is stealthy and observant and courageous. And Delya,” her gaze at last fell to the archer, “I am sorry I only saw you questioning my judgment as rebelliousness. It may be true that you are defiant, but that is also your strength. You question things, and you are passionate and fearless. I believe you will make a great leader someday.”
All three beamed up at her, and the tension in the air lifted.
“Let us now put our heads together,” Bera said, “and I am positive we can find a way to stop this stalker and carry on with our journey.”
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The darkness of the night was all-encompassing. Though she could not see, Bera relied on her ears as she and the others pretended to sleep at their camp. Only Delya sat up, pretending to be on watch. Bera knew she could count on Delya’s fearlessness to pull off this part of their plan.
They all remained still for a long stretch of time before Bera heard Delya stand. The archer tapped her foot against the rock as a signal and then started off into the swamp. Bera counted the seconds down in her head.
Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.
She did not hear the stealthy Fiafia, but the young woman tapped her on her shoulder as she passed and ventured into the swamp, as well.
Bera let go of her worry and trusted her companions as she waited. One minute passed, two, and then Delya’s cry of pain sounded the start of the attack. It was immediately followed by the twang of a rope trap triggered. The first part of their plan had worked. Bera rolled to her feet, drawing sword and shield in one movement. River jumped up beside her and they both ran toward their friends.
Bera could just barely see Delya hunched over and holding a wound in her side. A massive creature thrashed just before her, entangled in the rope trap Fiafia had set off. Water splashed around, spraying them all as a hissing sound came from their trapped foe.
“Now!” Bera shouted.
Joaken appeared from his hiding place and surged forward, wrapping one blazing hand around the rope that Fiafia had coated in lantern oil. It caught fire, lighting the entire area in red and orange. Its glow lit up the defiant Delya who had played the part of bait, luring the stalker to attack. The young woman was currently staggering back, trying to untangle her tunic from the stalker’s grasp. The fire lit up Fiafia, who stood behind the creature with sword in hand.
It also lit up what had stalked them for days. It was an undead skeleton of massive proportions, its head as big as Bera’s torso. It came out of the water, only half of it visible, as if it was a part of the swamp itself. A ribcage was hung with moss and mud. Two large horns crowned a minotaur-like skull. Its arms were long and ended in sharp claws. An ominous fog rolled off of it, as if coming from the bones themselves. Currently, a rope trap was wrapped around its spine, tethering it to a tree. The flames blazed inside the stalker’s rib cage, making it even more nightmarish. It was no normal fire, for Joaken’s efreet bloodline made the flames extraordinarily hot and strong.
As Delya and Fiafia went on the attack, the creature writhed and the rope creaked with effort.
“Hold it!” Bera commanded.
River slid up beside her, the words of a spell tumbling from his lips. With one hand he took control of the water around the base of the creature, a tendril of liquid wrapping around the spine to hold the stalker in place. With the other hand he focused his energies on the bleeding Delya. Sweating with the effort, River simultaneously healed her wound and held the creature at the same time.
Bera rushed forward as her companions fought the undead stalker, cracking its bones. It screeched out in anger, throwing its head back. Bera used that to her advantage. She sprung from gravestone to boulder to tree and then leaped high into the air. Flying in the air shield-first, she bashed through the skull and used her sword to cut the jaw cleanly off. The impact was jarring, but she held firm as she crushed the head of the stalker and landed back in the swamp.
The creature dropped heavily, the rest of its headless body burning to ash from the efreet flames. For a moment everyone stood, watching, waiting for it to move again. But it did not.
“Very well done,” Joaken praised, standing calmly.
Delya and Fiafia both cheered, embracing one another.
Bera smiled up at River. “You were incredible. Good work.”
“I believe,” the elf said, “that this is a sign that our group can overcome any challenge. We will save the Splinterlands because we must.”
Bera nodded, then looked at Joaken over her shoulder. He smiled broadly at her and inclined his head.
Yes, Bera thought. We can all do this. Together.
Collect special Limited NFTs related to this story at https://www.splintertalk.io/nfts/
Credits:
Story: Ashley Roepel and Scott Roepel
Editor: Sean Ryan
Narrative Lead: Joey Shimerdla
Character Art (cover): Larissa Senties Ibarra & Edith Hinojosa Becerril
Illustrations: Ricardo Caria
Graphic Design: Tamer "Defolt" Oukour
Voice Acting: David Dahdah
Ending credits song: AfterSound
Music: Isaria
Post Production: INFLUX Pictures
Creative Director: Nate Aguila
