The Chosen by Kris Kramer (read the beginning after the end novel TXT) 📕

mage. After some increasingly severe prodding, the nuathreen slid cautiously onto the man’s back and wrapped his small arms around Liam’s throat in an unintentional death grip. Eilidh stifled a smile as Liam’s eyes bulged in surprise. After a few moments of reassurance, Bob loosened his grip enough that his rescuer could breathe again.

The rock column twisted out as the decline became less severe, making traversing the pillar much easier. At the bottom, Eilidh stepped onto the cavern floor and froze. A snarling chattering of teeth reverberated from every direction. Despite her earlier feelings on the temperature, sweat streaked down the back of her neck. She dared not move, yet she knew that she was standing out in the open.

She closed her eyes, not knowing what else to do. Those vicious creatures were swarming and would tear her apart at any moment. A strong grip latched onto the shoulder of her cloak and almost lifted her off her feet. She stumbled in that direction and opened her eyes to find Liam forging ahead with her in tow, half-stumbling along behind him. She slapped his hand away and they both moved forward to a series of switchbacks etched into the rock of the far wall.

Only in the relative safety of her group did she turn and look back for the hordes of guards pursuing them, their snarls still filling her ears.

But she saw nothing.

Aelfraed saw the look of confusion on the young woman’s face and the elf’s voice rang clear as a bell inside Eilidh’s head. “Their foul noises echo off of the cavern floor and walls, creating a sensation of the animals being all around you. Do not fear this.”

With a nod, Eilidh turned back to the open space, reassuring herself that none of the beasts had followed them. In fact, only a handful of the dracolich’s guards roamed the area, and they’d all congregated at the opposite end of the great hall. Aelfraed signaled for the group to march quietly once more and followed the winding switchbacks up the wall.

At the top, Aelfraed put up a hand and lay down flat on the dusty floor. Eilidh initially appreciated the elf’s disregard for her own appearance, but then recanted this thought when the elf stood once more without a speck of dust sticking to her fantastically adorned outer robe. The mage gestured for none to follow and disappeared over the lip of the path.

Time passed painfully. The tension built in Eilidh’s aching muscles, the pause allowing her body to emphasize its displeasure at her most recent exploits. She would have time to rest fully when they all died to whatever calamity awaited them next. The dire thoughts of Ruaidhri now played constantly through her mind. Even gazing upon Bob’s terrified face brought no distraction to the dismayed woman. In fact, his fear didn’t concern her at all, one way or the other.

Aelfraed reappeared and gathered the group together.

She whispered, “It seems that we have made a slight miscalculation.”

“We have made a miscalculation? You—” interrupted Shela.

“This is no time for semantics, human,” snapped the elf. “The ruler of these abominations is resting about fifty yards from our position.”

Liam grinned.

“So what’s the problem? Let’s start at the top of the food chain,” he declared, already rising and unsheathing his red blades.

Aelfraed grabbed him, and with surprising strength thrust him back down.

“You do not comprehend my words, naïve Thorn. We alone cannot win that fight. The dracolich is one of the ancient dragons and is a ferocious beast unlike any you have ever encountered. Attacking with anything less than twenty-five or thirty would be nothing short of suicide.”

Something tapped gently on Eilidh’s foot. She turned away from the elf and found a grim-faced Bob looking at her, his eyes pleading for help. Unfortunately for him, she had no reassurance to give. Eilidh turned back to the conversation at hand.

“Can we sneak past the dragon?” asked Fionn, her voice not nearly as steady as usual.

“No, I do not believe so. There are minions nearby watching the path approaching the dragon’s lair,” explained Aelfraed.

Once again the tapping started on Eilidh’s boot. She turned and saw Bob’s pathetic face once more, but this time his arm was outstretched away, pointing over the edge of the switchback. The fear on his face didn’t match her expectations of a mighty spell-caster.

She once more turned away from him, but almost immediately he shifted up behind her. His small hands gripped her head suddenly, and she could feel his anxiety through his clammy palms. Eilidh struggled at first, but he gently moved her head to the edge of the cliff, giving her a view of the cavern floor and the bridges above.

A scream broached her lips before Bob stifled her with his slender hands. The group immediately joined her at the edge of the cliff. Fionn gasped and Shela groaned.

The dracolich’s forces had quietly formed ranks on the cavern floor. The silent monsters observed the stranded Anduains with an eerie calm that Eilidh judged unnatural for their kind. She didn’t know much about these vicious creatures, but their poise seemed all wrong.

Bob finally spoke.

“Look! The marker!”

Their heads followed his outstretched arm in unison, to the stone marker they’d passed on the bridge. Apparently the small pillars weren’t as benign as Fionn had claimed. A constant stream of Anduains, Calderans, and Bergsbor materialized and flowed out of the marker, filling the bridge with a screaming horde of violence.

The dracolich’s army below loosed a terrifying battle cry before charging the bottom of the switchbacks.

Instinctively, the Anduain group took a collective step back, but then remembered that the mighty dracolich and his guardians lurked in the shadows behind them. To Eilidh’s increasing dismay, these guards now poured out of small caves along the cliff wall, screaming and loping towards them, their ratty wings unable to carry them more than a couple of strides at a time. She sank to her knees and bowed her head.

Finally the time has arrived, Ruaidhri. I will soon meet you in the afterlife.

Chapter 36

Cadman strode through waterlogged passages in search of his prey. Making no effort to hide his presence or intentions, the giant firbolg waded noisily through rank water that rose almost as high as the tops of his boots. His trusty two-handed sword led the way. Sometimes he swore the weapon had a mind of its own, a mind that constantly sought a new home inside anyone near at hand.

The halls resounded with the echoes of his feet splashing in the dirty water, yet he’d encountered no dracolich spawn. When those Anduains had dropped from the ceiling, and almost crushed him, he’d suspected that the dragon’s guards would infuriatingly go into hiding. At least, of course, until they’d sent scouts to spy on the Anduain strength, of which there was little in that group. The scouts’ unintelligible cries that had beckoned Cadman away from those weak Anduains could easily have been a call to retreat, or just a diversion.

All Cadman knew for sure was now the bastards were nowhere to be found.

Once again he found himself sloshing through the greenish blue soup where the other Anduains had appeared. Before their interruption, he’d discovered a convenient loop of tunnels that had offered plenty of willing victims to slay in his quest to hone his skills. Now the halls stood still and quiet, other than the incessant dripping of water from every crack in every wall. Cadman’s arms tensed, not so much under the weight of his giant sword, but more from anticipating some deadly ambush.

When none came, Cadman lowered his guard, but never stopped listening.

Taking full advantage of the sudden idle time, Cadman sat and rested his large frame on a slightly elevated step of blue stone that ran along the length of the foot of the wall. Leaning back against the moss-covered wall, a sudden weariness descended over his mind, clouding his senses. His monumental head slowly nodded forward as long-ignored fatigue imposed its will, despite his protests.

Cadman jerked awake and glanced around anxiously. How long had he been out?

It was impossible to tell the time in the dank reaches of Teekwood Caverns, but he suspected his eyes had only closed for a moment. Looking around again, Cadman noticed for the first time that the passageway streaming along in front of him appeared to have no definitive light sources, yet there was an ambient glow. Other tunnels at this level featured grand magical torches, or even just regular torches, placed by more recent explorers.

A memory flowed smoothly through his groggy brain.

About one year ago, Cadman had led a handful of elite soldiers through Teekwood Caverns. They’d received word that a contingent of Calderans had broken through the defenses at the caverns’ only known entrance. The Reds had been spotted entering a new passage, apparently with the intent of raiding the Anduain archaeologists working diligently to loot some grave site. Cadman’s crew had held no interest in the moral or ethical issues brought up by assisting Anduains engaged in illegal activities, but they did enjoy a good scrap with the Reds.

Cadman’s group had walked brazenly down the tunnel, dousing all of the flames hung on the walls by the explorers below. Nearing the grave site in question, Cadman had observed a scene that would have turned the stomachs of most. In his mind’s eye, he could still see it all so clearly, and the emotions returned just as strongly as ever.

Blood of fallen Anduains coated the walls of the small crypt in gory splatters. Beyond the mutilated corpses littering the floor, seven or eight Calderans taunted and beat a small, bloodied female elf. She refused to give them the satisfaction of a scream as they maliciously stripped her down. Cadman didn’t need his imagination to ascertain their grim intentions.

With a cry of raw rage, he’d launched himself and his small band down the tunnel, charging with weapons drawn. They continued to toss down the torches, darkening the space around them, hiding their numbers. Cadman still smiled at what the Calderans must’ve felt, staring up the passageway and seeing ghostly forms screaming towards them, the tunnel closing around them as darkness rushed with the incoming Anduains.

As any good soldier would, Cadman reveled in the action of saving the poor elf from a fate worse than death. Those supposedly holy priests and palatines of Caldera had deserved an end far more painful than the prompt dispatch given by Cadman’s companions, but at the end of the day, one Anduain life had been spared.

If only I was strong enough to save them all.

The vision of the past faded from view and Cadman now more closely examined the slime coating the walls of the wet, expansive tunnel. Was he imagining things, or did the green muck itself emit a slight glow? Cadman knew little about plants, but this growth fascinated him. How could a plant, if that was really what this was, grow in the absence of sunlight, yet also generate its own light? The idle questions mounted up and up, leading nowhere.

Cadman thought about the Anduains who’d passed through the tunnel earlier. What had they said they were doing? Searching for some friends? Stupid. None of those Anduains had the experience or know-how to successfully navigate the caverns this far down. A year ago, Cadman would’ve felt obligated to lead the band of novices around and perhaps teach them some useful lessons in survival. He sighed deeply. A lot had happened since then, since his final mission.

His eyes started to droop once more as he sat and listened to the quiet lapping of the murky water around his boots. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine sitting in a glade, hearing the soothing murmurs of a crystal-clear stream.

Very quickly, Cadman was fording a small river east of Teekwood, seven young soldiers splashing along with him, well behind the relative safety of the Anduain strongholds in western Astrovia. The fresh recruits had recently graduated from their respective training schools and then transferred into the care of Cadman, a captain in the Anduain army. He would’ve much rather remained on the frontlines of the war with Bergmark and Caldera, but he always bowed to the wisdom of King Darren. Experienced soldiers and leaders needed to introduce the most promising recruits to the defense of Andua. These students had been entrusted to Cadman to get them operating at a high level as quickly as possible. Lesser students went to lesser teachers.

This simple reconnaissance mission should’ve provided no challenge for even the least of Cadman’s charges. Each had proven very capable in training, and Cadman had to fight to contain a smile as they worked so hard to impress him with their abilities. He would’ve never guessed that teaching would bring him any joy, but he had to admit that seeing the fruits