Night of the Bold

Chapter Four

Kyle watched in awe as the fissure in the earth widened, thousands of trolls falling to their deaths, flailing, deep into the bowels of the earth. Alva stood close by, staff raised, and intense rays of light shone down from it, so bright that Kyle had to shield his eyes. He was obliterating the army of trolls, single-handedly protecting the north. Kyle had fought with all he had, as had Kolva beside him, and while they had taken out dozens of trolls in fierce hand-to-hand combat before falling wounded, their resources were limited. Alva was the only thing stopping the trolls from overrunning Escalon.

The trolls soon realized the fissure was killing them, and they stopped on the far side, fifty feet away, realizing they could no longer advance. They looked out at Alva and Kolva and Kyle and Dierdre and Marco, eyes filled with frustration. As the fissure continued to spread their way, they turned, and panic in their eyes, they fled.

Soon the great rumbling thundered away, and all fell silent. The tide of trolls had stopped. Were they fleeing back to Marda? Regrouping to invade elsewhere? Kyle could not be sure.

As everything quieted, Kyle lay there, in agony from his wounds. He watched as Alva slowly lowered his staff and the light dimmed around him. Alva then turned to him, held out a palm, and laid it on Kyle’s forehead. Kyle felt a rush of light enter his body, felt himself warming, lightening, and within moments, he felt himself completely healed. He sat up, in shock, feeling himself again – and overflowing with gratitude.

Alva knelt at Kolva’s side, laid his hand on his stomach, and healed him, too. Within moments Kolva stood, clearly surprised to be back on his feet, light glowing from his eyes. Dierdre and Marco were next, and as Alva laid his palms on them, they, too were healed. He reached out with his staff and touched Leo and Andor, too, and they rose to their feet, all of them healed by Alva’s magical power before their wounds finished them off for good.

Kyle stood there, amazed, witnessing firsthand the power of this magical being he had only heard rumors of for most of his life. He knew he was in the presence of a true master. He also sensed that it was a presence that was fleeting; a master that could not stay.

“You have done it,” Kyle said, filled with awe and gratitude. “You have stopped the entire nation of trolls.”

Alva shook his head.

“I have not,” he replied deliberately, his voice measured, ancient. “I have only slowed them. A great and terrible destruction still comes our way.”

“Yet how?” Kyle pressed. “The fissure – they could never cross it. You’ve killed so many thousands of them. Are we not safe?”

Alva shook his head sadly.

“You have not even begun to see the tip of this nation. Millions more have yet to advance. The great battle has begun. The battle that will decide the fate of Escalon.”

Alva walked through the rubble of the Tower of Ur, picking his way with his staff, and Kyle studied him, puzzled as always by this enigma. He finally turned to Dierdre and Marco.

“You crave to return to Ur, do you not?” he asked them.

Dierdre and Marco nodded back, hope in their eyes.

“Go,” he commanded.

They stared back, clearly baffled.

“But there is nothing left there,” she said. “The city was destroyed. Flooded. The Pandesians rule it now.”

“To return there would be to return to our deaths,” Marco chimed in.

“For now,” Alva replied. “But you will be needed there soon, when the great battle comes.”

Dierdre and Marco, needing no prodding, turned, mounted Andor together, and galloped away, south into the woods, back toward the city of Ur.

Leo remained back, by Kyle’s side, and Kyle stroked his head.

“You think of me and you think of Kyra, don’t you boy?” Kyle asked Leo.

Leo whined back affectionately, and Kyle could tell he would stay by his side and protect him as if he were Kyra. He sensed a great fighting partner in him.

Kyle looked back, questioning, as Alva turned and stared at the woods to the north.

“And us, my master?” Kyle asked. “Where are we needed?”

“Right here,” Alva said.

Kyle stared at the horizon, joining him in looking north toward Marda.

“They are coming,” Alva added. “And we three are the last and final hope.”