Omega's Rebirth-Chapter 775: Where Shadows Come From ()

The air grew thin and ripples hovered in the air, going in and out of view, as magic wove its tendrils through the atmosphere. Not long after, a swirling portal roared to life, pulsing with magical energy.

It held for only a moment before the tear in space sealed shut. With hijackings growing too common, portals were a risky venture in the stronghold in recent times.

"I came as soon as I received your message. And the coordinates..." Garron said, stepping out of the portal.

His eyes were squinted and his expression was contorted in displeasure as he dusted his coat, as though that simple act could get the residues of portal travel off him. Giving up on that idea, he inclined his head to a bow, his gaze shifting between Menarx and Kirgan.

His gaze lingered on Menarx for a moment, the sympathetic look in his eyes betrayed his uncertainty on how to broach a topic the entire stronghold was now aware of, yet it was much too fragile to dare speak of. Garron quickly diverted his eyes when Menarx returned the look with a chilling glare.

Perhaps it would be safer to withhold his condolences, until a more opportune time... that there never would be.

"Your timely arrival is appreciated, Garron." Kirgan acknowledged with a nod, swiftly diffusing the situation.

Amongst dragon kind, when it came to anything out of the ordinary, Garron was the dragon lord to call. His obsession with history and magical artifacts, when compared to bloodshed and warfare had since established him as the most learned dragon lord

"Our discovery was unexpected and you are the most experienced of our kind, especially conversant with ancient history and magical artifacts."

Garron adjusted his rucksack over his shoulders, the weight of the tomes he carried provided sufficient distraction from the overpowering gloom in the atmosphere.

He knew where the gloom sourced from, he also knew, it would be a good idea to begin getting used to it sooner rather than later.

"As you requested, I fetched the oldest volumes on runes I could find, though I am certain you know the Dune archives have limited access to volumes pertaining to dark magic. Those kinds, you can only find in the hidden archives."

"Now, hopefully, what we have here is not so rare that we need to consult the archives." Garron said, clearing his throat lightly.

"Also, I did not send word of your summons to Her Grace. Though I am uncertain as to why I have been requested to withhold such information." He added, with a frown.

"War between our kind and the Fae is inevitable now. And Veah is at the forefront of it. The last thing she needs at this time is a distraction." Kirgan explained. "We understand your loyalty lies first to your Dune Lord, but this is done with her best interest at heart."

"We don’t know exactly what we have here. Until we can confirm what exactly this is, and how it affects the stronghold, it would be best to keep Veah out of it." He surmised. "And everyone else as well."

Garron nodded once. "I understand."

"So what is it we have here?" He asked, glancing between both King’s guards, he adjusted his rucksack again.

"Come." Kirgan said, and they led the way back through the forest.

"Civilization hasn’t dreamed of touching these lands in centuries, for obvious reasons. How did you get so far out?" Garron muttered, glancing around the forest with an expression of disdain.

"Don’t ask." Kirgan said seriously. "Just...be a scribe."

Garron rolled his eyes at that, but he did not press further. They soon arrived at the crack in the earth, and at first glimpse of it, a gasp escaped him.

Kirgan and Menarx both stepped aside, letting Garron through. He hurried to the edge of the canyon, depositing his rucksack by the side. He peered inside, recoiling with a coughing fit as he got a whiff of the mist pooling over the canyon.

"Dark magic, with no doubts." Garron murmured. "Not nearly as potent as the dark miasma, but this is a similar shadow toxin. Just too weak to have an effect on dragons... for now."

"Shadow toxin...means shadow people. But how?"

"Shadow people are the dark lord’s undead army roaming the dark lands, aimless without their leader." Kirgan murmured. "There shouldn’t be any here. We may not have been able to vanquish them, but we made certain to keep them on the other side of the barrier."

"That’s just what you think." Garron replied absentmindedly, crouching down near the closest rock surrounding the chasm. He reached out to touch the rune, eyes narrowed in concentration as his fingers trailed the etching.

"Too smooth to have been carved by a tool." He murmured. "This was burned into the rock by magic. Strong magic."

"I thought as much." Kirgan replied with a nod. "About the shadow people, what did you mean?"

Garron sighed, pulling out a blank parchment, he attempted to recreate the rune on it, sketching rapidly with his pen.

"Where do you think an undead army comes from?" He asked.

"The dead." Menarx spoke up for the first time.

"Exactly. The essence of the dead and the aura of the dead, accumulated boundlessly. Throw in some blood and potent dark magic, with some of those hateful spells... perhaps one or two secret necromancy methods, and we should have our own shadow people." Garron said, his tone was distasteful.

"I’m not sure I follow." Kirgan said with a frown.

"What I’m trying to say is, creating an army of the undead might be complicated, but it is easily achieved if you have the right tools, befitting conditions... and the know-how." Garron explained, glancing over at the King’s guards.

"So, if we have a dark sorcerer from the days of the council on this side of the barrier. And a Fae Queen willing to supply him with the necessary materials, we have both befitting conditions and know-how."

"Now, what is one thing this forest boasts most of?...The only thing, if we’re being honest." He asked seriously.

"A place of mass death." Kirgan murmured, exchanging a look with Menarx. "Humans may not be aware, but, this forest came to be over the remains of at least a few hundred witches. In... Asrig’s reign."

"The volcano claimed the lives of hundreds in the past, before it fell dormant." Menarx agreed.

"I wondered if there was some form of connection between both locations." Kirgan murmured with a nod.

"Are you saying...they plan to create another shadow army?" He asked, his tone deadly.

"Speaking from their perspective, I wouldn’t call it ’another’ shadow army. It would be more accurate to say ’their own’ shadow army." Garron corrected.

Kirgan frowned slightly at that.

"The current shadow army is hardly of use to them, their sole master was the Dark Lord. They have become mindless prowlers since then, their sole purpose breaking through the barrier as was the final order of the Dark Lord before his demise."

"A dark sorcerer might exercise some level of control over them, but it will be greatly limited as they were bound in the original spell to the dark lord himself."

"That being said... that is not quite what I’m saying." He added.

"Then...?" Kirgan trailed off.

"My point is, shadow toxins can be found wherever there’s shadow people. And shadow people can be created anew...so, their presence on this side of the barrier can’t be ruled out."

"When it comes to magic, and sorcery to be particular, it is dangerous precisely because it is so unpredictable. It is always best to approach it with a mindset that there is no impossible spell... just ones that haven’t yet been cast."

"But to be able to tell what exactly happened here, and perhaps gain an understanding of what they’re planning, I will need some time to study each of these runes. I will only give a report when I have something concrete, not a moment before." Garron returned his attention to his sketching.

He muttered to himself, pulling out tome after tome in search of something, while making notes on his parchment. There were about a dozen similar rocks with runes etched onto them, though the rune itself differed from rock to rock. At some point, Garron pulled out a fur and laid it out on a rock, setting up a makeshift workspace in a few effective actions.

He laid out his times neatly and then resumed his work, completely engrossed in researching each rune.

"How long do you think this will take?" Kirgan asked Menarx in a low tone. Watching Garron detach from his environment, neither of them were surprised. They had sent for him, precisely because of this skill of his.

"Does it matter?" Menarx’s response was distant.

"No, no it doesn’t." Kirgan agreed, leaping up to the nearest branch, he scaled the tree in a flash, settling into a comfortable position. Menarx leaned against the trunk, his eyes going closed.