Chapter Twelve: The End of the Beginning
(Note: This is not official version and may be removed in the near future. This do not reflect what is read in the podcast version, nor any other version you may encounter. I have preserved the rough form for posterity — or something like that. This novel has since been rewritten.) James had narrowly escaped death. In his mind he could still see the menacing white eyes of the creature, beast, whatever it was, thirsty for his flesh, thirsty for the sweet comfort he would have created inside its belly. Yet, he had survived. The sword, to his surprise, refused to leave his hand. He tried prying his fingers away, laying there on the beach, but his hand, and the sword, seemed unwilling to let go. The blade itself shimmered faintly as if it were suddenly brand new. He couldn’t quite understand how it had all happened. He remembered thinking desperately about the sword, and then it ripped free and he found himself on the beach, blurry eyed, and exhausted, sword tightly in his hand. Magic, he thought. For some reason he felt as if he were becoming more used to the blurry vision and weakness. He had the energy to stand again; he simply wanted to lay there in the sand for a moment. But Darl refused to allow him more than a few minutes, and before long, he found himself on his feet and hobbling through the open tunnel mouth and up a winding cramped tube. He dragged the sword behind him. Every so often the blade bumped Pea who in return grunted angrily and kicked it away. Darl, not at all to James’ surprise, became grumpier than before, grumbling to himself as they climbed. The journey up seemed far easier than the journey down. At least James thought so. The biggest problem he found was drying off. The process made him tremendously uncomfortable and he started to feel the way a cranberry might feel after being drowned. Still, he prayed and hoped there would be a soft bed in Arnur and that he would be able to sleep. And sleep. And sleep. The tunnel no longer curved in strange winding patterns; rather, it kept relatively straight in a easterly direction. James took this as an advantage. It meant they would have a full understanding of which direction to look when they managed to get out of the tunnel. Slowly the tunnel widened allowing everyone in the group to walk fully upright. James sighed as his spine popped. He stretched as best he could with the sword hanging from his hand. Then a faint light appeared, intensified, and then the end of the tunnel presented itself. Pea quietly put out his torch and placed it in his bag. Darl broke into the outside world first, then James, and Pea shortly after. James breathed in deeply, closed his eyes, and reveled in the moment. He promised himself that should he ever get home he would never go spelunking. Not so long as I have a choice. In the distance massive bangs filled the air like the sound of two enormous boulders crashing against each other, or a tremendous rockslide ripping away from a rock face. James saw Darl look back and for a moment thought to look too. He stopped himself in mid-motion. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Darl’s eyes were sunken; Pea, who had turned a moment later, looked on the brink of tears. The sounds continued and James built up the courage. He turned. The sight before him, a sight he had half-expected and yet could never fully prepare for, caused his knees to quiver, nearly buckling beneath his weight. Fires ravaged anything that could burn within Arlin City. Though he couldn’t see the main gates, he could tell that the walls had been crushed. Buildings buckled from car-sized stone missiles. But the fires hadn’t reached the two towers. Instead chains with links the size of human torsos stretched up the height of the structures. The Adul’pur shimmered. Faint black clouds enveloped the bridge. They grew in intensity, becoming like elemental serpents, surrounding the Adul’pur, but held back by an invisible force. Whatever held the clouds a bay lost its strength and in a sharp flash of light the Adul’pur shattered and exploded out into a green mist and disappeared. The black clouds dissipated just as sneakily as they had come. Then, the chains became taut. A stone missile ripped low into Naz’ra. It hung in balance with gravity and the last remaining supports within its structure, and then it fell, toppling down in a maze of dust, slabs of stone and pulverized rock. The sound of it all seemed infinitely greater to him. He winced as it crashed and dropped to his knees. He watched the dust settle and tears began to well in his eyes. Then Al’Dul creaked, a long crack opening like the maw of a stone beast along its midsection. Another stone missile burst through it. Then it crashed, hitting the hilltop in two large pieces, fragmenting, and spilling dust down the hillside. “We must go,” Darl said. James buried his head into the ground and sobbed. “James,” Pea said, “we have to go. There’s no time.” “I-I…” “Fear not. Luthien will pay for this.” But Darl’s words had no affect on him. He broke down completely, feeling as though one of his parents had died. What have I done? What have all these people done to deserve this? He searched for the answers; none came. It’s all my fault. Every last bit of it. If I had never come here, none of this would have ever happened. God help these people. God help me. “We have to move now. If his men see us, then all of this is pointless,” Darl said, then searching for the words, “all those people would have died for nothing. Don’t let that hang on your shoulders. Ammond knew there were great things