Sons of Ironstorm - Book 1: Griffon's Rise

Chapter 10: Visions of Darkness

"This is your task, Aelvar, my eldest:

Go you into the forests clothing the very heart of Asphenel.

There you will find the first of those raised from the beasts.

At this, Aelvar bowed in reverence to his father,

And in thankfulness for the great task put before him."

- from the Belepheriad, works of Aesthegon, High King of the Elves

Face aching with fatigue, Ciramax of Aquila slowly eased to his haunches beside the small fire he had built outside of his low tent and stared into the flickering flames, his mind's eye filled with the images he witnessed earlier that day.

It began well enough: Caeba's tower came into view within the first Watch after breaking camp, it's pale stone gleaming in the early morning sunlight. They managed the greater part of the northward journey without engaging either trolls or other elven forces, and seeing the tower marked the end of a long trip. It was a stroke of the Maker's luck, all things considered. After a small pause to insure their entire company was accounted for, they had moved forward towards the complex's main gates, reachable from the south. And, upon reaching the gates, discovered the first of what would be a legion of shocking sights that morning.

Usually warded by a well-armed cluster of guardians, they found instead dead and broken bodies strewn casually about as if thrown aside without regard. Yet the wounds weren't caused by arrow, spear, sword or mace, confusing those that examined the bodies. Not only that, a strange evil chill clung to the pallid flesh like a foul miasma, making one reluctant to even step close to take a closer look. Inside the gates they found yet more death, fallen guardians everywhere, grey-sheathed leaves fallen from an autumn struck tree, their limbs twisted in grotesque mockery of motion. The small town within the walls too was silent, her usually busy shops, smithies, foundries and markets eerily silent, and her streets empty.

Only when they approached the tower itself did Ciramax's Aquilan company find the survivors, a small knot of determined townsfolk and guardians, all wounded in some fashion, working to clear the bodies from the tower's first antechamber. He had ordered them all in at that point, to lend some small aide, both in binding wounds and carrying out the bodies, the tower's venerable occupants slaughtered as carelessly and without regard as the citadel's guardians. And, as he worked beside the survivors, the wiry and handsome Aquilan prince began to carefully inquire on what had happened there.

Ciramax let a long sigh whistle between his clenched teeth as his stomach knotted in memory of what he learned then. Demons, the survivors had said, creatures wrapped in shadow and hurling black lightning, had killed the guardians and the students in the tower. Nothing could stop them, not even powerful elven battle magic. Only when they were satisfied with the destruction they caused, did the shadowy creatures withdraw, vanishing as quickly as they had appeared at Caeba's gates.

In the painful silence following the attack the survivors made the most horrifying discovery of all. Caeba's master, and the very reason for the citadel's existence, was also gone, as surely vanished as the demons who sought to take him. Where Cephanon the Seer had gone, none knew, not even the one guardian that survived the assault on the northern gates that witnessed the venerable elf flee into the woods. He could only report Cephanon's defeat of four demons with the help of the magic warding the prophecy cases and that he carried both the Norak Utterance and its accompanying Codicil over his shoulder, saving them from the destruction ravaging the tower behind him.