Part CVIII: Escape

Date: Kapton 12th, 114 A.U.

The cave crumbled around them as they dashed through the passage into the other half of the Caves of Dragla, rocks breaking around them as they moved out of the passage into a new network of caves.  Jroldin tried to stop to catch his breath.

“We can’t stop now!” Augger said.  “If we stop, we’ll be holed in too easily!  They’ll be swarming the place soon!”

“How are we supposed to escape then?” Astrid yelled.  “Our ship’s crashed!”

“Our ship is large enough!” Zarien said.  “We brought a big enough ship here so that we could take all of you, if needed!”

“About time someone started to pay attention to important details,” Hagion muttered.

“We can control it remotely as well!” Zarien said.  “It’s the latest of it’s kind and whatever.  So I can call it to move directly to where we will emerge!”

“Well if that isn’t the newest thing,” Monty said.  “You’re a life saver, Zarien.”

“Just make sure that you don’t call it until we’re near the exit!” Reynyagn said.  “If they see the ship leaving and chase after it, we won’t have much time to escape!”


“What do you mean you’ve lost them?”  Veins bulged in the Emperor’s face.

“Well, I’m not the one who let a whole freaking airship go down into the caves,” Unyihi Garum snapped, letting himself fire back a shot at the Emperor for once.  “The machine wrecked havoc on our forces and decimated most of them when it crash-landed!” 

“We.  Were not.  Expecting others out here,” the Watcher said, slowly forcing the words out.  “And we certainly didn’t expect any other team members out here to decide to drive an airship into the caves.  They caught us by surprise.  It won’t happen again.”

“So where are they now?” Emperor Jaigran demanded.  “What happened to them?”

“They dashed into a passage and then collapsed it behind them,” Unyihi Garum snapped.  “I managed to electrocute one of them before it closed, so one of their pitiful lot is dead, but we couldn’t follow them.  I checked the map and apparently they knew what they were doing.  We were in one half of the cave complex and they just escaped to another—one that’s only connected by one passage.”

“The passage they collapsed,” Jaigran snapped, cursing. 

“It matters not,” the Watcher said in a low voice.  “Why does it matter to us if they are in the other passage?  There are no other exits.  They’ll be trapped.”

“At least one would hope,” Unyihi Garum replied.  “I watched them down there.  Their strategy rested on getting into that passage and they looked willing to put everything on the line to do so.  They had the full opportunity to flee from us, and once the airship crash-landed, they could have tried to beat us, though it would have been hard for them to do so.  But they didn’t.”

“What are you suggesting?”  The Watcher stood up, eyes narrowing.

“I’m suggesting that the Xavier Team isn’t stupid,” Unyihi Garum snapped.  “They fought like they had an escape plan.  And I’m betting they did.  We assume too quickly that there is no other exit from the other half.  I’m suggesting that that assumption may not be completely accurate.”


“I don’t think I’m wondering anymore why this exit tunnel was kept a secret for so long,” Astrid muttered, brushing away cobwebs.

“From my brief calculations, I suspect that we’ve travelled far enough away from the actual caves that we’d be under the city by this point,” Jroldin remarked.  “The tunnel looks manmade.” 

“I suspect depending on where we show up that we may very well emerge in the palace,” Reynyagn replied.  “Given that this tunnel wasn’t used while the Caves of Dragla was a tourist attraction, and given its secrecy, I suspect that it may very well have been intended to be used as an emergency exit.”

“One which the Sla’ad king didn’t use?” Monty questioned.

“The King of the Sla’ad evacuated the city before it was fully taken over before he was finally beaten and killed in a battle outside in these mountains,” Reynyagn replied.  “He wasn’t forced into using this emergency exit, and so he didn’t.”

“And here’s the exit,” Augger said, as they rounded the corner to see a spiraling stair case.  Quickly moving up the metal stairs, Augger opened the last door and they emerged out of a secret door in the wall into a room which looked familiar to Jroldin.

“The throne room!” Jroldin said.

“Aye,” Reynyagn replied.  “The throne room of the Sla’ad.  A well-placed back exit for the king.  We’re out, so you can go ahead and signal your ship to pick us up, Zarien.”

Jroldin finally sat down, catching his breath, as he did a quick head count of those in the room.  His first count was two over the number that they had, and he briefly wondered why there were suddenly eleven of them, before he remembered that Zarien had returned with two companions.  But then there should have been twelve of them…  Who-

“Brother Tomas!” Jroldin suddenly blurted out, leaping to his feet.  “Where is he?  Why-”  He stopped as he was met with a couple of averted gazes.

“What happened to him?” Flek asked, obviously in the dark as well.

“Not all of you saw it,” Reynyagn said softly.  “It happened just as we collapsed the tunnel.  One of the orcs hit him with his lightning bolt.”

“But, but-“ Jroldin stammered, trying to come to grips with what had happened.  “Why did we-”

“We couldn’t stop to wait with the tunnel collapsing all around us and so I gave the order to go,” Reynyagn replied in a grief-stricken tone.  “I didn’t have enough time to pick up his body before he was buried.  I…  I’m so sorry, Jroldin.”

“First it was Kaln, then Rider, and now Brother Tomas,” Zarien said softly as they rode in their airship, having successfully completed their escape from the elves.

“We knew coming into this that there would be risks involved,” Augger said.  “I only wish that the risks would not have already come to such a great head-count already, when we still are far from our goal.”

“We must press on,” Reynyagn said.  “We have two of the Golden Weapons already.  We can’t give up now.”

“We must go forward,” Flek said.  “Move forward to claim our destiny as the Xavier Team.  And may the blessing of the Great One be upon us.”

Part CVII: Narrow Encounters

Date: Kapton 12th, 114 A.U.

Reynyagn moved quickly through the tunnels, leading the group as he listened hard, but still found himself unable to hear them.  They were nearly there to the passage that they needed to get to—the passage between them and the elves.  They just had to hope that they’d get there first—or at least quickly enough so that they could quickly defeat the elves in their way before moving in.

Rounding the corner, Reynyagn skidded to a stop before backing up before peeking back around to see the squadron of elves and orcs marching toward them.  They had made their tracks too obvious when coming here, making it easy for them to be tracked. There were too many elves and orcs—and too many of them in unison.  Reynyagn thought hard.

“We need a distraction,” Monty said.  “They’re continuing to march on us—we have to stop them!”

“Precious few of them have corsha weapons,” Reynyagn said, unslinging the Arglem.  “I’ll blend in the shadows.  Stay back until I make an adequate enough distraction.  And then charge.”


“So now what?” Sereth asked as she pushed the door closed to the outside.  “We have your old vehicle.  We’re basically trapped in here thanks to all the guards out there as well.  What’s your plan?”

“To save the rest of the Xavier Team,” Zarien muttered as he tapped at the computer.  “How big are these caverns?”

“The caves of Dragla?” Sereth asked.  “They’re huge!  One of the seven natural wonders of Arquenia!  They say that-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Zarien said with a wave of his hand.  “We don’t need to get into the whole science of it.  “Are there any tight passages?”

“Well, it is a cave,” Sereth said, a bit scornfully.  “There are tight passages, but-“

“Here’s the map,” Zarien said, pointing to a photocopy of the map of the Caves of Dragla.  How many narrow passages are there?”

"Not many…” Sereth said as she peered over it.  “I mean, there are some, but-”

“We can take that chance,” Zarien said as he quickly began pushing buttons to turn the vehicle on.

“What are you doing?” Sereth cried out in shock as Hazael just watched, a growing smile on his face.

“I’m turning this thing on of course,” Zarien said, a wry smile playing across his lips.  “And we’re going to go save the Xavier Team.”


He emerged out of the shadows, blinding light whipping around them.  Troops fell back in confusion as the shadowy figure emerged, rippling light pouring out of him as it took the form of a whip, weaving around them and slicing through them as soldiers screamed out in pain, falling all around them.

"Take him out!” Unyihi Garum yelled as he shot a bolt of lightning at the Sla’ad.  But like the stories went, the lightning did nothing.  The only thing that could hurt a Sla’ad was intense heat.  But the Garum had intense heat to offer.

Fire poured out of his gauntlets as he stepped forward, shooting lines of flame at the Sla’ad who quickly dodged them while moving to the side beyond the field of battle, taking out some of the fleeing outskirts as he moved around them.

“Don’t let him get away!” Unyihi Garum yelled, charging toward the Sla’ad.  “Fire-orcs come with me!  You three with the corsha weapons!  Everyone else charge down the tunnel!  His friends can’t be far behind!”


“Move.  Now.  While we still have the chance.”  Monty gave the command and they moved, Jroldin and Flek in front with their corsha weapons.  Flek didn’t really think he would be able to deflect the bullets with his weapons given his loss of power, but he was going to try.  If someone had to die among them, it was going to be him.

Shots rang out as the others began taking out the battalion in front of them, but Flek could already see that it wouldn’t be enough.  Not enough of the troops had been killed or distracted.  There were still too many of them to handle—and they were nearly covering the passage they had to get to now. 

Bullets sped his way.  He ducked, barely managing to block one as another sliced a line across his knuckles, pain blossoming as he rolled, biting back his emotions.  He was lost.  He was completely lost.  He was in the middle of a war situation and it was just as he feared.  All his power was thanks to the Watcher.  Everything else in him was worthless.


The head orc was good.  Unyihi Garum—assuming it was him, as the golden skin seemed to indicate—knew exactly what it took to kill a Sla’ad, picking the only people out of the group that could kill him while leaving the rest to chase down the rest of his party.  And Reynyagn hadn’t been counting on that.

Dodging a ball of fire, Reynyagn spun, moving down to the ground as the Arglem flung itself out, crackling around a helpless orc as his flames did nothing to keep the Arglem from ripping into him as Reynyagn jerked back, ending the orc’s life as he moved to the side quickly.  He couldn’t do this forever.  He had to get back to the others—fast.  Reynyagn was just beginning to make his plans when there was a noise in the distance, and Reynyagn looked up to see it coming right at them.


Few would have had the insight to drive a ship into the Caves of Dragla, Zarien thought with a wry smile.  Yet he had.  Quickly driving it into the enlarged hole that the elves had made before they had figured out what was happening, Zarien had merely followed the squadron of elves to here, where they were fighting back a desperate Xavier Team.  Too late they saw him coming as Hazael moved the machine gun, shooting them down.

“How are we going to land?!” Sereth yelled.  “We need to keep this intact for the return journey!”

“I don’t know!” Zarien snapped.  “We need to shoot all of them down so that they have enough time to board!”  Zarien maneuvered the machine to the side as he prepared to give another sweep of the chamber.  Too late he saw the gold-skinned orc pause from shooting fire balls at Reynyagn to fix his stare on them, lifting up his gauntlets.  Lightning flung out of his fingers.  And powerless to stop, Zarien could only try to vainly move the machine out of the way in time before lightning hit.
Electricity coursed through the machine as Zarien was flung from the driver’s seat.  Everything spun as Zarien struggled to keep his balance.

“Get out!” he heard a roar, and then he was swooped up by strong arms as Zarien barely managed to think straight enough to see Hazael holding him and Cortna as they crashed through a window.  Glass broke through his arm as they broke out of the ship and into the cavern.  He twisted his head just in time to see the ship crash into the battalion of elves.


“Get in there!” Reynyagn yelled as he dodged the last fireball before hurdling over the crashed ship, killing several elves with his crackling Arglem.  “This is our chance!”  Get in there.  Moving quickly, Flek ran toward the passage as he gestured to the others.  He didn’t know how Zarien had gotten their ship down here, or who the two other elves with Zarien were, but he didn’t need to ask.  The crashed ship had killed enough of the elves and had scattered enough of the rest that the passage was wide open.  Flek ran into the passage just behind Reynyagn.

“Get in here!” Reynyagn yelled toward the winged elf holding both Zarien and the female elf.  “We can escape here!”  The winged elf swooped down as the others came in, shots ringing out all around.

“This passage is narrow enough—you need to collapse it!” Monty roared as he pointed to Reynyagn’s Arglem as Brother Tomas, the last of their group, came in.  Reynyagn swung the Arglem upwards.


No.  They couldn’t.  Unyihi Garum was furious.  Jaigran had let these elven rebels take a whole ship into the tunnels—completely ruining his scheme!  They were all but escaped now as Unyihi blindly charged forwards as he saw them collapsing the tunnel with the Arglem.  With one last desperate attempt, Unyihi leapt on top of the fallen machine, lightning crackling from his fingertips as it shot forward.  Rocks came down as the tunnel collapsed.  But the lightning hit first.  And Unyihi felt a tinge of accomplishment as he watched the brown-cloaked figure collapse to the ground.  And then the entrance to the passage caved in.

Part CVI: Holed In

Date: Kapton 12th, 114 A.U.

Slowly, Reynyagn pushed the door open, almost fearful about what traps they might find next.  He opened the door into darkness as he thrust his torch out.  All around them, gold glittered as gems hung on the wall.  And at the end of the hall filled with treasures was the Arglem, shining out on its perch.

“The Arglem,” Flek said.  “After our long search we have it.”

“Maybe that means I won’t have to keep following you all around throughout Arquenia then,” Hagion mumbled. And then, there was an explosion in the distance.


“Keep moving!” Emperor Jaigran roared, as the rocks piled down into the now-larger hole, consolidating as they began to form a ramp downward.  More engineers worked and more rocks tumbled, now making a better slope as elven soldiers began to move downward into the caves.

“We have them properly caught now,” Unyihi Garum rumbled.  “Shall I lead my battalion of orcs down into the caves to take them?”

“Go,” Jaigran replied.  “Leave the Sla’ad, the augger, and the goblin alive, but kill all the others.  I wish to question the Sla’ad and the augger, them being the two leaders of the group, especially since we have not heard of these auggers before.  As for the goblin?  The Watcher wants him, and I will not question his decision.”

“Yes, zar!” Unyihi replied.  And with that, he gave a bellow to his orcs and they descended along with the elves.

“They will fare no chance,” the Watcher said as he watched them go.  “The Xavier Team is trapped.”


Zarien quickly moved inside the vehicle as the elf fell down beside him, the bloody knife now in Zarien’s hand as he moved quickly through it, Sereth and Hazael following him.

“How many more guards?” Hazael asked.

“Hopefully no one else is in here,” Zarien hissed as he moved to the control panel of the Xavier Team’s ship.  But there might be some still in here trying to find stuff out about us.  You and Sereth can go check while I contact the rest of the team.”  Sereth shot him a warning glance about him ordering her around, but Zarien ignored her.  Quickly pushing buttons, Zarien strained his memory before remembering how to work it, quickly bringing up the communicator to contact the rest of the Xavier Team.

“Zarien to the Xavier Team.  Zarien to the Xavier Team.  Do you read me?”  Zarien waited, hoping for a response.  After two minutes, a reply came.

"This is Reynyagn.”  The voice was curiously devoid of much emotion.  “What do you want?”  The response puzzled Zarien for a bit before he realized why Reynyagn was acting this way.

“Hey,” Zarien said.  “Look I get it that I could be just Jaigran’s manipulation or an imposter or anything, but let’s move beyond that.  I’m currently in your ship aboveground.  The elves have found you here.  If you heard an explosion within the past ten minutes, it’s because the elves just created an easy passageway down to the cave systems and have the entrance up here heavily guarded.  I really hope that you know of some other exit down there, because otherwise, basically you’re trapped.  And Jaigran’s sending a whole boatload of troops down there to find you.”


Reynyagn kicked at the ground anyways.  “Shoot,” he finally said.

“Well, I guess that settles it,” Monty mumbled.  “If he was an imposter, I don’t see what Jaigran would gain by telling us this.  Because assuming that he’s telling the truth…”

“We’re in huge trouble,” Reynyagn replied. “And if he’s lying, we don’t have much to lose.  We need to get out of here—fast.”

“How?” Flek asked.  “You heard them—right?  The only exit out of here is blocked!”

“The Sla’ad have to had put another exit in here—some method of escape or easy entrance without exploding their way into this place,” Reynyagn snapped, quickly running through the hall of treasures as he threw them aside.  “There has to be some exit—otherwise from what Zarien said, we’re doomed.”

“Speaking of Zarien, he’s still on the other line,” Number 994 said, taking the walkie-talkie from Reynyagn.  “I’ll talk to him and see what he can come up with.”

“There’s a lot of writing on the walls,” Jroldin murmured as he looked at the archaic lettering.  “I can’t make out what it says, though…”

“It’s a tribute to their king and their cause, whom they’re hailing as martyrs,” Flek quickly said.  “I don’t know how I know that,” he quickly interjected, uncomfortable from all the stares that he was now getting.  “I don’t know when I learned that language, but that’s just what it says, okay?”

“I won’t question it,” Reynyagn said, picking up the Arglem and its sheath and strapping it onto his belt, bending down to look at the pedestal the Arglem had been on.

“We’re really doomed,” Astrid said nervously as she grabbed a gun off the walls.  “I don’t feel prepared to take out scores of elves, and I don’t think-”

“Yes—I’ve got it!  A map!” Reynyagn yelled as he held up the aging parchment, quickly scanning it.  “It’s a map of the Caves of Dragla!  We’re here…  and it looks like we came in here.”

“There’s another exit,” Augger murmured as he looked at the map.

“Aye,” Reynyagn said, grim-faced.  “And from the looks of it, we can get there, but the only route that connects us to that part of the cave system is right between us and the invading elves.”

“So you’re saying-“ Jroldin began

“We’ve got to get to that route before they do unless we want to fight our way through all those elves.  Otherwise, we’re doomed.”

Part CV: Humiliation

Date: Kapton 12th, 114 A.U.

It was all over the newspapers.  How Jaine had predicted the stunning results of the last battle where the Elder Dragon had broken loose and their forces had been utterly decimated.  About how new video footage had shown up showing the Mothertree moving and strangling Myrik—footage that apparently had been kept under lock and key before then.  A whole new speech by Jaine proclaiming himself as the High Priest of the Mothertree and espousing his belief about how the Mothertree would lead them into a new golden age over the elves.  And although he hadn’t cried for the dethroning of him yet, Freglak knew it was coming.  Jaine was subtle—spending time in his speech to speak out against all of his military practices.  The next speech would be the results of all this—the culmination of Jaine’s surprise surge from being completely destroyed to being a surging force—the next speech would call for a new Lord-Protector of the forest and for the dethroning of himself.

Freglak closed his eyes, tapping his fingers on the table.  How he wished that Flek and Reynyagn would still be here—he could use Flek’s amazing skillmanship in battle, as well as Reynyagn’s supreme intelligence.  But no.  They had left to beat the elves, and so he was left by himself to figure out how to dispose of this rising threat.  And Freglak knew what a distraction and a possible upcoming civil war would mean in the greater picture.  A civil war at this time would be to give the victory over to the elves.

“You could authorize an assassination attempt against Jaine, sir.”  Freglak looked up to his aide, remembering that he was supposed to be in a conversation here.

“I could…” Freglak said, lost in thought, before pursing his lips.  “I fear that it would only enflame things beyond repair, though.”

“How so?”

“I suspect that Jaine is expecting that,” Freglak replied.  “After all, he is fully aware of the fact that I know that he plans on moving against me.  And that I’m going to do whatever I can to stop his attack—which I will.  Which means that he probably has a set of bodyguards, as well as a plan for how to make this all backfire.  Just picture it.  Hours after a failed assassination attempt, Jaine comes out with a prepared speech blasting me for trying to kill him, getting all the new followers of the Mothertree behind him, and leading a full assault against me.  Given the sky-rocketing support of the Mothertree in the past few days, combined with news that I tried to kill their major leader, I suspect that it would be to give up the whole battle to Jaine.  He would win in a heart beat.”

“What do you plan on doing then, sir?  I mean, not to disagree, but won’t nearly the same thing happen if you don’t attack him, once he decides that it’s time to take full control?”

“He’ll try, but at least he won’t have the argument that I tried to assassinate him,” Freglak growled.  “And in case you didn’t get the hint from the speech that I gave yesterday, I’m publicly espousing my renewed belief in the Mothertree in the hopes that I might be able to make some compromise with Jaine in order to retain power in some way.”

“And you think Jaine will take it?”

“No, but the people might,” Freglak muttered.  “No, Jaine has known enough of me over the years to know that I’m not going to be his little puppet.  But what matters right now is who will have the support of the populace.  As long as when the battle lines are drawn, the vast majority aren’t behind him, thanks to all the arms and weapons we have, we will be able to defeat him in an all-out combat, although I fear that such a combat will give a huge lead to the elves.  My only hope right now is that I’ll have enough support of the populace that the two of us can compromise, that in doing so I’ll force Jaine to work with me or else dash all of his hopes down the drain.”

“Not to be presuming, sir…  But what about the Mothertree?”

“What about it?”

“I saw the footage, sir…  What…  What do you think it is?”

“There were too many witnesses for it to merely be good video editing,” Freglak said.  “I…  I honestly don’t know what it is.  It’s impossible that the tree actually be some divine being, but I don’t know how to explain it otherwise.”  He pursed his lips.  “Either way, it doesn’t matter.  Just make sure that all of our troops and aides are kept away from the near-vicinity of the Mothertree just to make sure that nothing happens.  And if war comes to war…”  He thought about that.  “Well then, we can put Jaine’s claim to the test that the Mothertree will not be destroyed with explosives.”


“Lord Freglak gave another speech today.”

“I saw,” Jaine said, not looking up.  “A last-minute defense to try to reconcile with me.  He knows that the deal’s up.  He knows that he’s doomed.”

“So what will our response be?”

“We will meet with him like he requested,” Jaine said, a smile playing across his lips.  “I will talk to Lord Freglak face-to-face, and I will make myself clear with him.  He will respond to all our requests and submit his will completely to ours.  Or else he will lose his throne.  There is no other alternative.”

Well, Warbaron has had a successful prediction, but will he be right in his next?  Let's see...

Part CIV: The Last Act of the Priest-King

Date: Kapton 12th, 114 A.U.

“Flek is gone,” the unearthly voice hissed.  “He has no power over his body anymore!  He has sold himself to me and to me he shall ever remain!”

  “Nay,” Jroldin said, stepping forward to bend down over Flek.  “But by the power of the Priest-King, I will fulfill my purpose.  Your reign over Flek is over.”  Reaching up, Jroldin hoped behind hope and grasped the ethereal circlet, taking it off.  To his wonder, his hands, although they felt emptiness, now held the circlet.

“No!” the voice hissed.  “It isn’t possible!  You can’t-”  But Jroldin, ignoring the voice, pushed the circlet down on Flek’s struggling head. Immediately, there was a flash of light as Jroldin moved his hands back.  There was a smell of burning as ethereal flames of fire licked the circlet, Flek’s body convulsing.  Out from the circlet, there rose an ethereal being in the shape of an elf, now cloaked with flames, who pointed at them, trying to say something before there was a rushing of wind.  The spirit flew back, and suddenly all was silent.  And Flek’s body fell limp.

Reynyagn and Augger stepped back.  “Did...” Reynyagn say, looking at Flek’s lifeless body.  “Is—Is Flek-”  He stopped, unable to say the word.  And then Flek’s body moved, his head turning, as slowly Flek opened his eyes into the moonlight, and at those around him.


“I…  I met him at the Mothertree years ago,” Flek said quietly as everyone around him listened.  “He promised me to give me power and skill beyond that of a goblin’s natural ability if I would let him in.  And…  And I did.  I was a weak goblin before that, one who wanted so much, and so I accepted him.  I have come to regret that choice.”

Reynyagn pursed his lips.  “But…  but you didn’t know…  You didn’t realize he had that much control over you?”

“I always knew that he could,” Flek said quietly.  “Part of the deal was that I’d let him take control of my body at some points so that he could experience it again.  But I was always able to stop him—or so I thought.  He always needed my permission, and after we learned there was a traitor, I thought this might be it, but he swore he wouldn’t take control over me anymore.  He said that he’d leave.  But…”

“He didn’t,” Monty said, a tone of disgust in his voice.  “And you believed him.”

“I know,” Flek said quietly.  “He must have taken control over me while I was sleeping.  And I…  I was completely unaware of it…”

“Well,” Reynyagn finally said after a long pause.  “I suspect we all already know without explaining how catastrophic that was—and how much worse it could have been had it not been inverted.  Either way, from what Astrid said, the elves likely know our plans.  And, for better or for worse, the Priest-King circlet is now permanently on Flek’s head.”

“I can see it,” Jroldin finally said, looking up.  “It’s on his head—but I can still see it.”

Brother Tomas turned toward him. “Does… does that mean?”

“Aye,” Jroldin replied.  “I have finally put my faith in the Great One.”


Reynyagn lurched to the side as four swords suddenly swung up at him on the floor, bouncing off of them as his shadowy form moved to the ground.

“It’s really a good thing that we have you here,” Astrid said as Reynyagn moved around the swords, the others slowly following behind.  “If we didn’t have you, and if the Sla’ad hadn’t made all their traps Sla’ad proof.”

“Well, that’s why the prophesy called for one from each race,” Reynyagn replied, bouncing his hand off of one of the sword blades before moving on.  “For situations such as this.”  This was the fourth trap that they had so far encountered while going through the Caves of Dragla, further proof that the Sla’ad had hidden the Arglem here.

“Either way, we really need to get out of here soon,” Monty said, glancing at his watch.  “We don’t know how much longer we have before the elves get here.”

“We can fight them back,” Astrid said.  “I mean—we nearly defeated them at the Citadel of Tzel-Maret.”

“Yes, but then we also had all of my fighting power,” Flek reminded her.  “I still had the being strengthening my skills.  And believe me.  Without them, I’m a worse fighter than Jroldin.”

“I find it hard to believe that,” Jroldin muttered.  Everyone laughed.


The elven ship slowly hissed down, gaining a secure footing before the door opened and the elven guards came marching out, bearing guns and fire-sticks as Emperor Jaigran and the Watcher stepped down in the midst of them.

“They likely know that we’re coming,” the Watcher said solemnly.  “After gaining all my memories from the other part of myself that inhabited Flek, I believe they are smart enough to figure out who I, through Flek, had been calling in the middle of the night.”

“It matters not,” Jaigran said, beating the air with his wings as he rose up.  “Guards!  Surround the hole—the only entrance into the Caves of Dragla!  Fixate our heaviest artillery there, and then we go in.  They’ll be traps like rats in a hole.  And there’ll be no escape.”


“The elves!” Zarien said, ducking to the side.  “They’ve found them!”

“And from the looks of it, they know that the rest of the team is down there,” Sereth said with growing horror as she watched as they began setting up heavy guns and cannons around the drilled-in entrance to the Caves of Dragla.  “Look at how they’re pointing all of the guns down!  Given everything else we heard-”

“They trapped like rats in hole,” Hazael said solemnly.  “Unless we stop them, the rest of the Xavier Team is doomed.”

Question of the Day: How will the Xavier Team escape their predicament?

Part CIII: Unmasked

Date: Kapton 12th, 114 A.U.

Astrid rolled, unable to fall asleep.  They had broken through into the cave late last night and had decided to wait until morning to break in.  But, both curious about what they were about to find, and still awake after a boring day, she was still awake.

Restless, she left her chambers, exiting the ship as she stood in the cool night air.  A shadow moved in the distance, and Astrid’s hand reached for her gun, slowly stepping forward.  Why was he…

Astrid stepped forward, determined to follow him.


The traitor moved forward, getting ready for his last radio signal.  Quickly pushing the buttons necessary, he spoke.  “This is the traitor of the Xavier Team, Code Name 2352 calling in.  Do you read me?”

“This is the Watcher, Code Name 2532 responding,” the voice finally came crackling through.  “Why are you calling me?”

“They have broken through to the caves below,” he replied.  “How soon will it be until you arrive?”


Astrid drew closer.  Who was he calling to at this hour?  And who was he calling to?  She moved forward around the crag, about to ask him what he was doing, and then stopped.  His voice was different—deeper.  And there was an edge to his voice—one that she had never heard before.

And, suddenly, a horrible pit forming in her stomach, Astrid took off running.


There was a sudden noise in the background—the sign of an eavesdropper.  He was being watched.  Suddenly, fear jolting through his senses, the traitor spun around to see a dark shadow moving.  This wasn’t according to plan.  And, charging forward, the traitor drew his sword, ready to stop the threat.


Astrid looked back, blinking as brilliant light from the corsha blade shown towards her.

“Stop!” Astrid shrieked, as everything seemed to fall to pieces around her.  “What are you-”  But he didn’t stop.  Firing one bullet behind her, which he quickly blocked with the corsha blade, she took off running, even though she knew it was faster with him. 

“Red alert!” Astrid shrieked into the walkie talkie, hoping that someone was up at the ship.  “This is Astrid calling in—I’m south of the ship and am being chased by the traitor!  Someone get over here fast!”

           

Number 994 sprang up, thoughts running through his senses as he received the message that was sent into the ship, thankful that he had slept while connecting himself to the ship.  Astrid was in trouble.

“Get up!” he roared, placing his hand on the light switch and electronically turning all the lights on.  “Astrid’s in trouble!”

Heart pounding, Astrid charged forward, sweat running down her forehead, as pure adrenaline drove her senses.  He was catching up.  And Astrid knew that if he caught up to her, he was going to kill her.  What had happened to him?  It couldn’t be—could it?  Was it possible that he had been the traitor all along?  And after all that they’d been through together…

Slipping, Astrid skidded, flying forward as she landed hard on the ground, rolling over to see him coming up closer.  In desperation, she fired the bullet, trying to ignore the fact that she was shooting a gun at the person who had once been her friend, even while knowing that he would easily block it, which he did.  Scooting backwards, she watched as he leapt forward, preparing herself for the impact which was sure to come. 

But it never came.

A bolt of lightning suddenly struck the traitor in the chest, throwing him back as the corsha blades flew from his hands.  Hitting the ground, still shocked that he had been attacked, the traitor leapt up again only to be hit by another lightning strike, before collapsing to the ground.  It was over.

Monty gripped Astrid tightly in her arms as she wept, while pointing his gun at Flek, lying stunned on the ground, feeling ready to pound the goblin into the dust for almost killing his sister.

“Why did you do it?” Monty asked viciously as Flek seemed to regain consciousness.  “Why did you betray us?”

Flek groaned, looking up.  “Wha…” he began, looking confused.  “Where am…”

“Don’t play stupid with us,” Monty spat.

"Let’s be tactful,” Jroldin said, stepping between the two of them as his eyes flashed.  “You are under questioning Flek for your treasonous acts and for your attempted murder of Astrid.  As the Priest-king, I claim the role of judge.  Why have you done this?”

“I…” Flek said, still looking confused.  “What do you mean?  I…  I just fell asleep, and…”

“I will destroy you.”  The foreign voice emitted from Flek’s lips as he contorted, before it broke, Flek suddenly stumbling back as realization filled his eyes.

“No!” Flek cried out, now in a normal voice.  “I thought—no—you said that-”

"Who said what?” Reynyagn asked.

“No!” Flek cried, rolling as if he was grappling with some invisible foe.  “Don’t—you can’t-”

Suddenly, his pupils went black, and Flek sprung up, arms outstretched, looking ready to kill.  A bolt of lightning again felled him to the ground before Reynyagn and Augger sprung forward, pinning him down as Jroldin forward.

“You will never win!” the deep menacing voice came out of Flek’s mouth.  “You will be destroyed.  All of you will fall under my-”

“No!” Flek’s voice again emerged.  “You can’t have control of me!  Let me…”

“I.  Am.  The real Flek.”  Beads of sweat began to emerge on his forehead.

“What is wrong with him?” Reynyagn asked, looking agitated, as he looked toward Jroldin for guidance.  “In all my years-“

“I can’t keep him back for much longer!” Flek cried out, again in a normal voice.  “I…  can’t…”

Jroldin stepped back, feeling caught by all the attention suddenly thrust on him after he tried to take his role as the Priest-King.  What was he supposed to do now, with Flek grappling with some imaginary foe?  What was he supposed to do?  Anxiety beat into him as he realized that he didn’t have much time, Flek again clawing at the ground as his pupils blackened.  Fretting, Jroldin was about to give up when suddenly, a wave of peace passed through him, as he recounted the words of the general prophesy, and of the words of the prophesy specific to him to mind. 

He was to be the Priest-King.

“Stop,” Jroldin said, stepping forward as he glared at Flek—or at whoever had taken control over him.  “Your reign over Flek is over.”

Question of the Day: What is Jroldin's solution?

Hope you all enjoyed the holidays!  I'm returning to writing after my holiday break, and so here we continue with Part CII, getting closer to Part CVIII and the closing of Book III: The Quest.

Part CII: Rebellion

Date: Kapton 7th, 114 A.U.

Oldin lifted up the newspaper to see the front page cover of the vote that had been gotten in during the wee hours of the morning.  A Senate vote of 62-38, barely squeaking by the 60% majority needed to revoke the previous arrangement where Astrid had been given complete control and connections to the Xavier Team.  After a long week of Iraina publicly revealing much of his discussions with Astrid and pressuring for a vote to give him the power he claimed he deserved, he had finally gotten it.  And so after much lobbying, the votes were in, compete with five senators who had once been stalwart supporters of Astrid reluctantly switching sides to give the win to Iraina.

The bell ringed.  “Come in!” Oldin said and looked up as ex-Governor Astrid came in.

“Ah, Astrid—it’s good to see you again,” Oldin said as he put down the paper.  “Although after reading about last night’s big news, I suspect that this isn’t going to be a very enthusiastic discussion.”

“No,” Astrid said, pursing her lips.  “Iraina got his way.  Again.   And in doing so, he’s completely screwed up everything for the Xavier Team.”

“Not to rub salt in a wound, but you were kind of asking for it.”

“What?!”

“Come on.”  Oldin stared at Astrid square in the face.  “You know, as much as I may have wanted you to win in the election, I think that Iraina was right in this matter.  It took much winning over for me, but honestly, since he is governor, he ought to have a right to these privileges.  And given that you weren’t willing to share them with him, I think that you got what was coming to you, regrettably.  Some more tact in dealing with Iraina might have been advised.”

“I had thought that I had my loyal group of 43 that would be able to resist any attempts by Iraina to push it through Senate,” Astrid said, pursing her lips.  “Unfortunately, they were not all as loyal as I thought.”

“Regardless,” Oldin said, “it’s old news now, I suppose.  Do you still have any power?”

“I still have my position,” Astrid said.  “Albeit with the power to be the sole communicator of the Xavier Team stripped from me and given to Oldin.  Which probably means that I’m reduced to a figurehead with no real power.  Since I strongly disbelieve that Iraina would actually call me for advice on foreign policy plans that involve the Xavier Team.”

“Probably correct,” Oldin said.  “Either way, I wish you the best regards in the situation.”

“Yes…” Astrid said, pausing as she thought.

Oldin cocked his head after a minute of silence.  “Did you have something to say?”

“Ye…” Astrid began, but then she shook her head.  “No, no…  That’s it.  Thank you.”  And exchanging goodbyes, she left.  Oldin watched her go thoughtfully.  Somehow, he didn’t think that Astrid had just come in there to exchange talk about the vote.  She had come into the room wanting something from him—he was sure of it.  But somehow in the course of the conversation, she had changed her mind.  It shouldn’t matter.  Whatever her private thinking was, it shouldn’t concern him in this matter.


There was a running of steps, and Oldin looked up to see two Araelian guards come in, quickly looking around before exiting.  He stood up, perplexed to why his work space had just been invaded.  “What-”

“I’m sorry,” came the voice, and Iraina stepped in.  “I hate to interrupt your work, but have you seen ex-Governor Astrid?”

“She left here five minutes ago,” Oldin responded.

“Crud.”  Iraina snapped his fingers before wearily sitting down in a chair.  “And the subway left two minutes ago.  So she’s long gone by now.”  The subway was located only a block from Oldin’s headquarters.

“Why are you looking for her?” Oldin asked with curiosity.

“I assume that you’ve read about the vote that happened last night and the significance of it?” Iraina asked, gesturing to the newspaper on his deck.

“Aye, I did,” Oldin responded.  “Astrid and I were talking about it while she was here. But why is it so important that you find her?  She ought to be back soon enough.  She doesn’t take long trips away from Araelia, or you could just phone her if you have any questions.  Though why are the Araelian guar-”

“She took off with them,” Iraina said, interrupting.

“What?”

“All the communication equipment that she’s been using these past couple of months to talk with the Xavier Team,” Iraina said.  “They’re gone.  From what we could gather, after she heard the vote, she packed up her stuff, grabbed the communication equipment, and high-tailed it out of here after stopping to talk with you.  After learning from an unsuspecting aide that she was coming here, we tried to get here in time, but apparently, not soon enough.”

"Wait…” Oldin said, his mind reeling.  “You mean-”

“Yes.  She stole the communication equipment and there’s no other way for us to communicate with them,” Iraina said bitterly.  “Upon losing the vote, she’s decided to take things into her own hands.”

Oldin pursed his lips.  “I see,” he said, before sighing.  “I tried to warn her—to try to help her to understand how she’s on the wrong side of this.  But…  I don’t know.  She’s too prejudiced against you for some reason.  And so I guess my talk didn’t do anything good.  I almost wonder if she came here to ask for my assistance before realizing that I wasn’t on her side in this issue.”

“I see,” Iraina said, sighing.  “Given this development though, do you think—with the dwarves—that you could-”

“Of course,” Oldin said, waving his hand.  “Think nothing of it.  I’ll alert the dwarven government and the rest of the FRI to keep an eye out for her.  Ex-governor Astrid is now a criminal and a fugitive that has stolen government property.  And she has just made our Wanted list.”

Question of the Day: Should Astrid have run off with the equipment?

Part CI: Uniting Threads

Date: Kapton 11th, 114 A.U.

“We’ve finally gotten a signal from their radios.”

“What?” Zarien asked, jerking up his head to look at Rezja.

“We have a signal from the radios of your fellow Xavier Team members and have pinpointed their general location,” Rezja said.  “We caught it last night.  They’re near the capitol of the ancient Sla’ad empire.  I’ve already done the preparations to get a ship ready.”

“Wow,” Zarien said, taking a deep breath as he tried to catch up with everything had happened.  “When am I supposed to leave?”

“In half an hour,” Rezja said.  “Unless you had any reason to leave later, which I didn’t think you did.  Hazael and Sereth plan on going with you.”

“Sereth wants to go with me?”  Zarien raised an eyebrow.

Rezja pursed his lips.  “She didn’t volunteer for the slot if that’s what you mean,” he replied.  “But we need three people to go, and you’ve only worked with them.”

“Is Cortna coming?”

Rezja shook her head.  “I convinced her that she’d be safe here.”

“I see,” Zarien said and he took another deep breath.  “Well, as you said, there’s not much point or reason for me to stick around here much.  I’ll just grab my stuff and then I’ll be off…”  He thought for a moment.  “Once we reunite though, do you-”

“Just use your radios more,” Rezja said, smiling.  “Relay information to us through them and we can intercept them without the elves noticing.  We’ve got all the details worked out; Hazael and Sereth have a more detailed game plan since they were up last night when we got the message in.”

“I see,” Zarien said.  “Well, I’m ready to go.”

They had been flying for a couple hours since leaving the rebel ship.  It was going to be a one to two day’s journey to the old Sla’ad capitol and so they hoped to arrive there midday at least on the 12th.  Zarien looked at some of the gadgets from where he was up front with Hazael.  Sereth was in the back.  The two of them were still on almost-non-speaking terms following their disputes over Cortna.

"So,” Zarien finally said.  “I guess that they’ve found the Arglem here?”

“They think so,” Hazael replied.  “The Caves of Dragla they suspect to hold it.  They separated for unknown reason and thus used walkie-talkies.  They now rejoining together.”

“Strange that they’d separate,” Zarien mused.  “Though I guess that if they were trying to find it, then it would make sense to split up in order to cover more ground.”

After a while, Hazael leaned over toward Zarien.  “Your conflict with Sereth should end.”

Zarien bristled a bit at the notion.  “Our conflict?  Our conflict is not my fault.”

“Maybe,” Hazael replied.  “But do you really still want the fight between you when you leave?”

Zarien pursed his lips.  “I’m not the one who’s being all exclusionist and overly-protective,” he replied.  “Look—I don’t like this fight any more than you do, but I’m not the one that you should be looking at here.”

Hazael sighed before turning back to the driving controls, looking at the map as Zarien glared out the window.  If anyone was to be found at fault here, it was most definitely Sereth, the one who had started this whole thing. Him?  He didn’t have any fault in it.  None whatsoever.

“Well,” Hazael finally said in a louder voice so that Sereth could hear him.  “I hope that you can reconcile enough to accomplish our mission.  Rezja has many things he wants us to accomplish there.  We’re fighting an empire, and so unity is imperative among our ranks.  Even if you can’t be unified, maybe you can at least act like it and put a face on to inspire others.  Because betrayal and uncertainty in the ranks is the one thing that will absolutely seal the deal for our alliance.”

“The spy is ready and prepared to accomplish his side of the deal,” the Watcher said.  “Once we land, we’ll be all ready to take over.  They’re not going to know what hit them.”

“Good,” Emperor Jaigran replied, as he moved his piece on the board in the game that he was playing against the Watcher.  “Any interesting intel from him?”

“Only that which we already knew,” the Watcher replied, pondering the board.  “The Xavier Team has likewise discovered that the Arglem is likely hidden in the Caves of Dragla and are currently working to recover it.”

“Bother,” Jaigran snapped.  “How close are they to finding it?”

“Not close enough, from what the spy said,” the Watcher replied.  “They have to break through the caves a different way because of the immense landslide that the Sla’ad used and so it ought to take them a while to get in.  Besides, now that I think about it, I think it may turn out to be highly useful if they end up getting it first.”

“How so?”

“Think about it,” the Watcher replied, moving a piece.  “What do you think the Sla’ad put in there?  If they’re going to hide their whole treasure trove in this cave, you can bet that they’re going to protect it extremely well.  I’d be shocked if they hadn’t placed a whole arsenal of traps ready to trap the unsuspecting adventurer, in their attempt to make sure that no outsiders found it.  If the Xavier Team gets to it first, that only means that they get caught by the traps first.  And if they’re lucky enough to get past all of them, it still matters not.  There’s only one pathway out of the Caves of Dragla.  Once we land, all that we’ll need to do is put a heavily armed squadron around that entrance and that’s it.  They’ll be trapped like rats and will be easily exterminated.  And with the traitor on our side, they won’t know what’s coming.  They’re not going to know what’s coming until it’s too late.”

Part C: Breaking Through

Date: Kapton 11th, 114 A.U.

The traitor moved swiftly through the night, running with the radio to a secluded place, where he quickly began punching buttons before opening up the back of the radio to reveal the secret switch: the switch that changed it from receiving radio waves to sending out radio waves.  The traitor flicked it and quickly turned the dial to the right channel, taking a deep breath before beginning his call.

“Greetings,” the traitor finally said, holding down a button that initiated his voice.  “This is the Traitor of the Xavier Team, Code Name 2352 calling in.  Do you read me?”  He quickly flicked the switch back to receive input.

“This is the Watcher, Code Name 2532 responding,” the voice came crackling through.  “What do you have for me?”

The traitor flicked the switch back.  “We have decided that the most plausible place for the Arglem to be is the Caves of Dragla,” he replied.  “We suspect that the Sla’ad likely hid the Arglem there before covering it with a landslide, and then afterwards blaming it on the bombs that went off all around the capital city when the other forces attacked the city.  We are planning on rejoining with the rest of the group tomorrow and using some of the miner equipment that we have in the ship to try and break through at a different point than the rock slide, where the cave seems close to the surface.  Over.”  The traitor flicked back the switch again.

“Your information confirms the information that we already have,” the Watcher replied.  “Emperor Jaigran has received the same intel from a Sla’ad that he tortured for information.  We are currently on route to the Caves of Dragla to intercept you and to take the Arglem before the rest of the Xavier Team can.  I will do my best to arrange things so that we can reunite, and hopefully convince the Warrior to fall like his predecessor.  Are you good with our plan?  Over.”

“I am good with the plan,” the traitor replied after flicking the switch once more.  “Once we find the Arglem, I will make sure to wrest it from them before they know what is happening.  I will reveal myself once and for all that we might again reunite.  The Xavier Team will crumble before our upcoming plan.  And they have no chance of stopping it.”



It was three hours past midday and the machine was still laboriously working at the earth while Jroldin yawned.  The mechanical digger was small and it worked slowly, mostly just being in the airship in case they needed it, as they wanted some backup if they had to dig, but they hadn’t packed one powerful enough to be able to do much good, given that a more powerful digger would have taken a lot more space.  As is, they had made considerable progress in digging down into the earth in the past three hours since he had arrived with Reynyagn and Brother Tomas to show them the map for where they ought to be digging, but unfortunately it appeared that the Caves of Dragla were further down than they expected.

“So what’s going to happen when that digger finally breaks through the rock and hits the roof of the cave,” Jroldin asked, the question suddenly popping into his head.  “How are we going to keep it from just plummeting into the cavern.”

“We’re not,” Monty replied.  “We discussed this to some length before you got here with the map.  However, we don’t have enough rope that would be strong enough to hold the digger in place so that it wouldn’t fall once it hits the roof of the cave.  And so we’re just going to let it plummet into the cave.  It’ll probably break beyond repair, but there really aren’t any other options that we have.  Course—if we see when it first starts to break through and are able to turn it off before it breaks the ground apart too much, we might be able to save it, but if not, we probably won’t need it.  I’m not sure why exactly we brought it in the first place, but am glad that we did, for the rare opportunity such as this when we’ll need it.”

“So will there be traps in it?” Jroldin asked.  “I know if I was going to be burying some treasure that I’d be sure to put lots of traps around it so that no one else could sneak around and take it.”

“I’m not sure whether or not they would have, but I suspect so, following your logic,” Reynyagn replied.  “Chances are they would have put traps in place that would be able to kill many an unsuspecting treasure hunter, but they may have designed the traps in such a way so that Sla’ad wouldn’t be hurt.  We had a strong belief that our race was the race that would be the superior race able to overwhelm all others, quite similar to the belief that the elves now hold.  And so I suspect they would have put the traps in place so that Sla’ad—like me—wouldn’t be harmed.  At least, I hope that would have been the case.”

"So what do we do once we have this Arglem,” Astrid asked.  “I know that we’re not quite sure how we’ll be able to use it to defeat Emperor Jaigran, but what’s our immediate plan?  If we still have the traitor lurking among us, what are we going to do after we have it?  Are we going to need to split up again?”

“I don’t know…” Augger said.  “Although I’m hoping, although it might be quite irrational, that the Arglem may be able to shed light on this matter.  In recent days, I’ve been beginning to ponder the role of the Priest-King in all of this.  Although it would not be his only role, given that the prophesy told that there would indeed be a traitor among us, I’ve been beginning to wonder how Jroldin would factor into all of this.  As the Priest-King, I wonder if he’d be able to do something to use his priestly powers to discover the traitor by some means or another.”

"Don’t look at me!” Jroldin said, uncomfortable by all the looks that he was now getting. “I have no idea how I’m supposed to be the Priest-King in general, so I have no idea how I’m supposed to be the Priest-King in specific.  Maybe it’ll just come upon me in some way, I don’t know.  But…  I dunno.  I can’t really control my power that much.  I mean, sure I had that good idea about splitting up in the first place, but…”

“His time will come,” Brother Tomas replied.  “But in the mean time we must press on and put our trust in the Great One to discover and reveal the traitor.  For we can do nothing else.”

Part IC: Plotting the Route

Date: Kapton 9th, 114 A.U.

The Sla’ad stood before Jaigran, limply trying to keep on his feet as the Emperor stalked toward him.  Bitterly, the Sla’ad looked up at him, the scar across his face, as his eyes shot bullets at the approaching emperor.

“Murderer,” the Sla’ad whispered.  “I hate you.”

“Azjlan wouldn’t have died if you had cooperated better,” Jaigran replied.  “And I see that you are before me because you have finally relented.  Where is the Arglem?”

The Sla’ad bit his lips before finally answering.  “We hid the Arglem in a treasure trove with the rest of the great treasures of the Sla’ad,” he finally forced out.  “We hid them in the famed Caves of Dragla and then sent a landslide over the opening to seal it off.”

"I see…” Jaigran said.  “You have done well to finally relinquish your information.  And what of the Sla’ad who haunts me?”

“What?”

“The Sla’ad who hunts me—who is always stalking me—always in the shadows—looking for its chance to attack me,” Jaigran spat.  “The Sla’ad you have appointed as an assassin.  What of him?”

The Sla’ad’s eyes grew large.  “I—I have no idea what you’re talking about!” he cried out.  “I have never heard of any such thing—we were never close enough to the Mothership to try to send an assassin up to kill you.  I swear, Emperor—I am innocent concerning this matter!  I know nothing of it!”

“I see,” Jaigran murmured, before looking back up at the guards.  “I have no use for this pitiful wrench.  Send him to the labor camps, but make sure to log which labor camp you send him to in case I need to speak with him again.  Take him away.”  The Sla’ad slumped in resignation as the guards dragged him away.  Jaigran let them go before quickly running to his table where all the maps and books were laid out.  The fabled Caves of Dragla.  So, it would appear that the explanation that they had been destroyed during their bombardment of the capital city of the Sla’ad was wrong.  No.  If the wretched Sla’ad was correct, than they were purposefully buried by Sla’ad seeking to hide their hidden treasure.  All the pieces were falling into place.  The last thing that remained was to plan his course to the Caves of Dragla, to take the Arglem for himself.

Kapton 10th, 114 A.U.

The Watcher waited as the ship came into the Mothership, docking before the door slowly opened and he stepped out, accompanied by two guards on either side.  He looked back with satisfaction to see a very faint shadow playing behind him on the floor.  He was only able to gain a shadow after his times of rejuvenation, a shadow which quickly disappeared, but which was useful nonetheless.  Striding forward, the Watcher didn’t leave the launch dock before he noticed Emperor Jaigran making for him, six guards accompanying him—four of them with lights to dispel all of the shadows.  The amount which the Emperor had degraded into believing this vain superstition disturbed and disgusted him to a certain extent, but there was little that he could do about it.

“Greetings, Emperor Jaigran,” the Watcher said.  “It is nice for you to be the one to find me, rather than me searching for you.”

“Yes,” he replied, rather absent-mindedly.  “How was the trip?”

“Your forces ought to be making heads-way in the battle against the goblins shortly, possibly by today,” the Watcher replied. “The priest who is convinced that I’m his god has been consolidating support, and I’ve arranged things to make a humiliating defeat for the goblins by your hands.  What of you?”

“We have successfully taken the information from the captive Sla’ad,”  Emperor Jaigran replied.  “According to him, the Arglem was hidden in the Caves of Dragla before they were sealed in with a massive rockslide.  I have a ship ready for us to immediately leave.”

The Watcher’s eyes sparked and he stared at the Emperor.  “The ship is ready now—to immediately leave?” he asked.  “Why such the urgency to find it?”



“We already know from your spy that you implanted in the Xavier Team that they are searching for the Arglem,” he replied.  “We can’t risk the chance of them getting to it before us.”

“I see,” the Watcher said, pursing his lips, as his mind ran through the information.  “Very well.  We must be of haste in order to claim the Arglem before they have.  What size airship do you have?”

“We have a Class III warship,” Emperor Jaigran replied.  “And three regiments of guards to go along with us.”

“Three regiments of guards?” the Watcher asked.  “Why so many?”

“If the Xavier Team is also looking for the Arglem and our paths happen to again cross, I’m not taking any risks,” he snapped.  “They nearly killed me in Yippah because I wasn’t prepared.  I’m not going to find myself in the same position again.  We have enough guards at the Mothership, and so we’re taking three regiments with us.”

“Very well,” the Watcher replied.  “You have prepared well for this trip; I’m impressed.”

"Well, I wasn’t the Emperor because of nothing when you chose me,” he reminded him.  “As essential as you are to our plan to destroy Arquenia, I am quite adept enough to prepare for my own affairs.”

“Quite true,” the Watcher said.  “Now where is this ship that you mentioned?  We must leave at once.”

“It’s two docks down from this one,” he replied.  “Let us therefore go and take the Arglem.  And so get a step closer to victory.” 

Question of the Day: How will the Watcher influence the traitor to accomplish his goal?