Story|The FAEL Waste- Chapter 9

Here comes the fresh Chapter 28 of the story [The FAEL WASTE] from Darth2018. Let’s see together what happens.

“Rhinoch?” Lunalyn snapped. “Why are you with this dark elf?” The ranger tensed, pointing her bow at the infamous sorcerer. Dolen moved forward but the dark-haired ranger glared at him and he stopped.

Mori Istar gazed calmly at the angry woman but he, too, kept silent. Rhinoch, his nine-foot frame towering over everyone, stood relaxed before the irate ranger. He nodded. “My way is not your way, fair Lunalyn. Many dark and dreadful paths have I trod and I have found Mori Istar to be a trustworthy companion.” The massive man turned to his partner. “You were right as usual, my friend. They have no idea.”

Moira and Allura both gasped at the sight of the giant’s back, exposed when he turned. Terrible scars crisscrossed the muscled expanse from his neck and running down below his wide belt, the backs of his arms also badly marred. Someone had viciously tortured the giant. Greythywst peered at the injuries intently but made no comment. Dolen and Lunalyn exchanged glances. Dolen faced the newly-come elf wizard. “What is it that we have no idea of, Istar?”

Rhinoch moved forward and growled. “Do you know Mori Istar, captain of Astrapor? Have you journeyed far with him? Spent a desperate night in his company? Have you stood back-to-back in battle with him, trusting your life to his fidelity?” The giant shuddered. “No, valiant Dolen Skil, champion of Mindon Angtor!” The huge warrior swept the room with an angry glance. “All of you believe the lies about Mori Istar! Distortions cunningly spread by those who want the truth of Nyria’s disastrous past kept from all who live in it now!”

Greythywst waved placating hands as the giant’s ire spilled out. “Please, champion of the Rodain! Many glorious tales of your true-hearted service are told across the breath of Nyria. It is only that finding in the company of this…particular wizard seems out of place for you?”

The elven mage turned to Istar. “I remember you at Imladon, Mori Istar. No more promising student ever studied under the watch of the Council! Great were their expectations for you, yet you turned away from the traditions of your people to follow a darker path? Is it a surprise then for you be viewed with suspicion? Turning from the Light to the Dark?”

Istar waved away the accusation. “Darker path! Lighter path!” He scorned. “Magic is magic, nothing more, nothing less! Harnessing the powers of life, of nature, of the minds of men? I did all that was asked of me but I wanted to know more.” Istar pointed at Greythywst. “You never wondered about a different way? A different incantation? A spell that reached further?”

Greythywst stirred. “Aye! Every rising mage has those moments, but that’s why students are held back! It would be folly to allow those unready to progress into realms of power beyond their abilities.” The elder elf nodded. “Yes, I wondered but I trusted the lore masters at the Council to guide me in my mastery.” He stared at Istar. ‘And you did not. Aegilor Thenwys, your mentor, trusted you when you asked to see Mindon Angtor. You never should have been allowed near it!”

“Nay!” Mori objected heatedly. “Even after a thousand years, his dark influence still smolders in those broken stones and shattered hallways! I could see Aegilor felt it and he knew I could too! I challenged him about it, that I sensed a power still lurking within the ruins, hating, glowering for revenge.” Istar pointed at Gwyddian. “The great High Elven Council! The Brotherhood of the Gibbous! Both deceiving all Nyria! And I was right to doubt!” Istar whirled and pointed at the cloaked shape frozen inside the dark crystal cell. “You liars claimed the Horror was destroyed, yet there it stands!”

He glared at the elder wizard. “And I saw that you were taken aback by seeing that elemental!” Istar growled, pointing to the smoldering figure contained in the other cage. “It is well known that you and the Inferni have a relationship! Is that why you’ve come, Gwyddian? To rescue Asherai?”

Greythywst shook his head in denial. “I had no idea she was imprisoned here, Istar! How she came here I can’t imagine! As you say, Asherai is an Elemental! One of the most powerful in all of Nyria.” The wizard stepped toward the other cell and looked around. “That she should be confined here…with the Lich himself? I have no idea!”

Mori Istar stared back at Greythywst. “I know this is not the first time you have seen Inferni, Gwyddian! Nor is it mine! I was not at Mindon Angtor for that climactic confrontation with the Dark Warlock! The High Elven Council and the Gibbous Brotherhood sent many of their apprentices, myself included, to regain control of the elementals they had summoned to help defeat that dread sorcerer. Inferni like Asherai with her flames, Neriedea, the water elementals, Fenniri, the shapeshifters and all the rest! Ripped from their dimension by wizards magic into our world and thrown against the Enemy unasked, then were betrayed by the magical powers that had called them and hurled back into their realm without reward!”

Istar shook his head slowly in anger. “And it was I and many of my friends who had to do the dark deeds that constrained the elemental allies that had helped save us! So hungry for knowledge, for hidden lore they did not possess but could try to steal from the elementals, the High Council and the Brothehood betrayed them when they couldn’t get what they wanted!”

Gwyddian shook his head sadly. “Alas, Mori Istar! It was this that drove you away from the Light?”

The younger wizard straightened and set his hands on his hips. The light of Greythywst’s staff glittered on the armored mail covering Istar’s chest, revealing more details than had been gleaned from their first meeting. A glyph shimmered within the weave of his hauberk. Greythywst saw it and cried, “See! You bear the sigil of the Dark Elven mages on your shirt! And you decry the Council and the Brotherhood for their thirst for secrets?”

Istar ran his hand over the glyph, laughing and shaking his head. “Gwyddian! You are the same as the fools in the Council! You decry that which you not know and then accuse me of dark magic? I told you! Magic is magic! How one chooses to use it is what is important!” He turned slightly to let the illumination of the staff fall fully on his chest so all could see. “This is a shield glyph! It protects me from any spellcasting that could harm me or bind me. Nothing more, and it isn’t Eleven magic at all. Hingar Hlandoreth himself wove it into the shirt for me.”

Rin came alert, stepping away from the crystal cage holding the Lich. “Hlandoreth? Of Hanthorim, great dwarven city hidden in the mountains? You have been there?”

Istar nodded as he pulled his cloak closed. “Aye, Rin’in Steelshaper. It was necessary for me to seek out your great dwarf mage Hlandoreth, for only he could share the arcane protections I needed before I sought out the mighty Draumok, on the charred slopes of Dragon Mountain itself!”