The Bore of Ontal

 Throughout the silence of the last few months, I've been steadily working on revision for Book IV of The Legacy Incarnate: Incarnate Key. One of the best things about revising this story is putting in all the little details that help the story work even better than it did in draft stage. Maybe something I'll do after I publish BIV is make a comparison table of changes between the original original draft and the final work, because there were a lot of them! I'd also like to address similarities as well. 

I've worked a bit on the Legacy Incarnate anthology, but I'm focusing most of my energy on BIV before I finish that. Something that always broods in the background of my creative mind is Book 3 of The Legend of Draconite: E'lsra. I've drafted 13 chapters so far, and Chapter 14 has been gathering dust. However, I thought I'd share one of my favorite chapters from E'lsra so far; don't worry, you don't need too much context from the rest of the book to understand what's going on in it. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 5: Grudge Rings

Tasaru needed a translator, and she needed someone to get him. Just because Gage knew him personally, she sent him to get Prince Erik, Governor Hevan’s most unpopular prisoner. It made Gage’s stomach churn thinking about fetching him out of jail, only to take him to a new prison in Tyrell. They had been on friendly terms when they had last separated, and he had no idea what Erik would think of him after this.

Gage had less than two weeks to carry out his Queen’s bidding. This job required crucial timing and focus, lest any tardiness on his part angered the Re’sgalan any further. So despite his trepidation of meeting Erik again, he sailed quickly to Obelisk with Hevan’s entourage, disembarked with his white windchaser Silver, and traveled inland with Governor Hevan. 

Hevan was a friendly Unia’a, but wasn’t afraid to snap orders to his subordinates. During one stop in a town between the coast and Obelisk’s capitol, he tongue-lashed one of his elves for not remaining with the party and instead carousing during the night. 

Hevan tried to strike up conversations with Gage along the way, especially about his knowledge of Prince Erik, but Gage kept his answers short. He wasn’t interested in telling Hevan about Erik’s black market dealings in Ramirra, as the Governor didn’t need another reason to hate Obelisk’s former monarch. It was all in the past, but the future wasn’t very bright for Erik either. From what Gage could understand of Erik’s dealings on Obelisk, it was very possible Elemsra would simply execute him the moment she set eyes on him.

The party rode or walked up a steep road, passing between huge, crumbling hills framed by more sturdy-looking mountains on either side. Gage scanned them through his helmsight, keeping his hands easy on Silver’s reins. Several flags were posted on the hill crests, some with morbid imagery. All seemed to hint at stories of the island, an island he knew little about.

Obelisk’s recent history and relationship with the other Southern Isles was a strange one. Gage had been very young when Erik had fled Obelisk in the wake of the Black Dart incursion on the island. He had heard tales about Erik’s extreme governing methods: executions, trials for the smallest errors, broken families and black magic. It was rather hard to judge Erik on it all, though, as Gage had yet to hear from the fallen prince’s own mouth his dealings on Obelisk. Whatever had happened here, it had made Erik’s people hate him and lock him away the first chance they got.

During the Summit, Hevan and his comrades had brought up complaints about how little help they had received from the other isles about reining back Erik, but Tasaru and Sabra had pointed out the mess with the Black Darts and their own battles they had had to fight. Hevan had only seemed a little satisfied with their explanations and determined that he would have to continue navigating his way through the bloodstained remnants of Obelisk’s government alone. 

Gage only knew all this when Tasaru had requested he fetch Erik — with Hevan’s permission, of course. As part of the conditions to take Erik from the island, Hevan insisted on keeping Gage in sight at all times. It made a creeping feeling go up his spine, and the first friendly appearance of the Obelitian elves had fast become tainted. What was it they really wanted him to do with Erik?

On the second day on the island, under the midafternoon sun, the entourage made its way up a steep road lined by basalt block walls etched with reliefs of elves, enormous catamarans, ocean waves, and cresting stars. At the top of the road was an arched basalt gate, the opening of a wall that stretched out of sight to either side beyond the hills. Three dozen guards manned the gate, either on ground or on top. When they spotted Hevan, one raised a pole with a white flag bearing a blue nine-petaled rose on it.

Two gate guards approached the Governor, geometric platemail clanking as they held out their hands and bowed to him.

“Guard Drange,” Hevan said. He gestured to Gage. “Please welcome an esteemed guest, Gage Mon of the Draconite clan.”

He looked at Gage stoically and held out his hands, but didn’t bow. Gage offered him a nod. Drange made a signal to some of the warriors atop the wall, and they in turn signaled to someone on the other side. One side of the double-door gates swung outward. Hevan clicked his pony forward, leading his entourage inward to Ontal, the capitol city of Obelisk.

They came to a street that followed the curve of the wall, going out of sight behind a line of basalt buildings. As far as Gage could see, all the buildings were of stone, and Unia’a walked up and down its length or worked booths of goods. Talking and the smell of something fried filled the air. Hevan led them to the right until they came to a road that shot inward, passing many tall, thin buildings, with a few domed structures interspersed between them. 

Obelitian Unia’a stared at the procession, some offering the same greeting as Drange had to Hevan. Many wore curved daggers on their waists with long handles. Gage thought he had seen such a design before, but couldn’t remember where at the moment. Everything here from the buildings to the clothing was in shades of brown, gray, or green, a startling change from the more colorful adornments of Ramirra.

The street began to rise. Silver’s claws scraped at the cement road as she moved upward, her long, naked tail stiff. Gage held the forward saddle grip in one hand to steady himself, cocking his head at a partially destroyed statue that only had half of its legs intact. Hevan and several others in their group made gestures at it he had learned quickly during the Summit were very rude. Gage quickly looked away from the statue lest he offend Hevan with his interest.

Along the way there were other statues of Unia’a, male and female, dressed in either armor, flowing garb, or airy clothing meant for the humid Southern Isles Summers. Gage shrugged his thick cloak further over his armor. Winter made the humidity bite down to the bone. 

The street leveled out into a great, round open area with four archways standing across from each other to form a square. Their back sides slanted down, indicating tunnels into the earth. A green with dozens of rose bushes filled the space between them. Hevan approached the nearest door and pushed his pony inward. Gage glanced at the keystone. It appeared to have a glass box in it, shielding a cylindrical indentation in the stone, but it was empty. Silver hesitated at the entrance, peering down the gloomy ramp. Only soft blue bulbs on the walls gave the tunnel any sort of light.

“C’mon, little one,” he murmured, scratching her neck. “Just follow Hevan. I’ll be here.”

Ears quivering, Silver obeyed Gage’s urging and trotted down the ramp. More and more sounds echoed up the corridor, and it turned and opened into an enormous cavern. Gage’s jaw dropped as he craned his head around. Huge buttresses held up the cavern ceiling. Between them were boxes with cables running up and down the depth of the cave. Hevan led his party onto a broad path with a fence between them and what looked to be an endless drop into Libera’s belly. Lining the many spiraling pathways were buildings carved into the stone, with more corridors drilling into the island. Interspersed along the ramps were platforms with elevator boxes large and small, riding along the cables with trailing electricity.

“I had read about the Obelisk Bore, but I had never imagined how…” Gage trailed off.

“How impressive it is?” Hevan finished for him. Gage nodded. “When you have a small island your people must live on for thousands of years, the best way to go is down.”

Hevan came to a building with arched facades up and down its height, arched windows glowing the same soft blue as the cisterns. Its first level held stables that were carved right out of the rock and went into the earth hundreds of feet. Five elven boys stepped from the stable guard house to begin taking the horses. Gage dismounted and led Silver to them.

“Give her fresh grains, and she enjoys meat jerky if you have some,” he instructed in Common. They glanced at the nearest of Hevan’s entourage, and she quickly explained Gage’s instructions to them in Unessa. One of the boys grinned as the windchaser sniffed him with her soft nose, and he gently took the reins and led her into the stable. Gage handed a few drakes to the boys, and soon he was off with Hevan further down the ramp while many in his entourage dispersed to buildings next to the stable. Five warriors stayed with them, faces solemn as they guarded their Governor. 

“We mine the finest minerals and metals in the Southern Isles out of the Bore,” Hevan explained. “As a result, we get the finest craftelves, metallurgists, jewelers, and blacksmiths. Our heart is in the stone of this island.”

“How do you keep seawater from pouring in?” Gage wondered, taking another glance across the width of the Bore and the rice-sized people on the other side. It seemed to only get wider the further they went. “This must go way beneath the water table.”

“We take our time,” Hevan replied, dark green eyes sparkling as he looked at Gage. “We monitor weaknesses in the stone, close off openings, redirect water flows…some magic goes a long way too.”

They came to a level elevator platform. Hevan approached a slab of stone carved with reliefs of elven maidens resting amid roses and pressed a glowing blue button one of the stone elves was holding. A line of light darted up through the air, heading high above them to the nearest elevator. Gage examined the stone beneath them, shifting a foot to get a better look at a relief of swirling clouds and elves pulling strings of jewels out of mountain sides. 

Hevan let out a small sigh as they waited, pursing his lips. Gage flicked an ear towards him. The Governor seemed less than happy to be handing Erik over to Ramirran authority, and Gage couldn’t exactly blame him. Erik had given these people every reason to mistrust him, as well as people outside of Obelisk. What if he escaped without justice being dealt to him?

A long, narrow box came down some of the cables, and they boarded. One of Hevan’s guards went to a system of levers against the back of the box, just on the other side of the wall from the cables, and moved some of them down. Everyone took their seat on benches along the walls as the box began to slide down the Bore.

Between the ramps and buildings were even more reliefs etched into the curving walls of the shaft. Gage found himself leaning forward to look out the box windows at the reliefs. Flaming suns and moons dripping water, crowds of Unia’a either dancing or fighting, swirling, thorny branches bearing huge roses, flocks of seabirds and fleets of ships navigating canyon-like waves. Amid these grand designs were more of the inbuilt structures and their people, going about the business of their day.

The further down they went, the barer the walls became of art, and it finally began to narrow down again. The buildings became less grand, and the Unia’a down here weren’t dressed as well as those above. Many were filthy from mining, some riding on trains that spiraled along the wall on their rails. Others went in and out of massive doors leading into the dark bedrock. Some spotted Hevan and proffered their hands as the elevator sped down.

The elevator slid to a stop at a small platform guarded by Unia’a in stone armor. Gage stepped out, craning his head back. He could hardly see the lights from the upper levels from down here. Hevan led them forward, and the armored Unia’a flanked him, pushing Gage back a bit.

They went into the wall, guided by the blue cisterns of light. Moisture sheened the corridors, and the smell of brine was prominent. They passed doors that led to more corridors, and then went through one doorway that opened into a tall, domed room. Several stone huts took up the edges of the room, with doors between them. A single domed building took up the center of the room, and they ducked into it.

More of the stone-armored Unia’a either sat at desks or stood at guard. At the central desk, a stocky Unia’a with a green-painted pauldron rose and saluted Hevan. They exchanged greetings in Unessa before Hevan went on to explain Gage’s presence. He murmured a few phrases back to Hevan.

“This is Warden E’oan,” Hevan explained to Gage. “He’ll take you to…the esteemed one and provide both of you an escort to a boat. It’s time for me to go.”

Gage held out an arm, and Hevan slowly took it.

“Thanks, Governor,” he said. “You have done Queen Tasaru a great service.”

Hevan’s grip unexpectedly tightened, and he scowled with narrowed eyes.

“The service will be done when this scum is dead, Draconite Gage,” Hevan whispered. “I will make sure of it.”

Gage’s mane rose sharply as Hevan left with his guards. Should he fear for Erik’s safety? No, Hevan wouldn’t go back on his word of letting Erik go with Tasaru. Besides, Erik’s ultimate fate laid with Elemsra, not with Hevan.

E’oan led Gage out of the central dome and to one of the doors in the wall. Gage glanced into the window of the hut beside it, which had two guards sitting and chatting with one another. They paused as one waved to E’oan. The Warden waved back briefly.

The door had a wavy circle with several triangular indents along its rim, varying in size. E’oan lifted his bracer, which had several glowing red and orange crystals poking out of slots along the underside, and chose five glowing crystals. He fitted them among the indents. The circle glowed hot orange, and several mechanisms in the door clicked and whirred before it popped loose. E’oan wrapped his fingers around the rim of the door and heaved it open.

A round chamber met them, filled with the blue glow of a ceiling light. An alcove was carved out of the wall for a bed, and part of the wall had been carved away for a stone table. A Unia’a with a thick beard and mustache sat at the table, his fork lifted halfway up as he stared at his visitors. E’oan took Gage’s hand and pressed something into it.

“I will close the door,” he whispered. “Press this into the crystal hole to let us know you’re ready to leave.”

Gage didn’t miss the warning glower E’oan sent to Erik before he slipped out of the door and pushed it shut. Gage took a deep, steadying breath, fingering the red crystal, and approached Erik. 

“May I?” Gage asked, gesturing to a stool across from the fallen prince.

“Of course,” Erik said, a small smile coming to his face. Gage removed his helm, set it on the table, and sat. He frowned at the uneven leg of the stool and leaned to one side to keep it from tipping over. Erik reached out a hand. “Gage. Gage Mon! How have you been?”

Sickness roiled in Gage’s belly as he shook Erik’s hand. The half-breed elf would probably want to punch him after their meeting was over.

“I have been well,” he said. “It’ been non-stop Draconite business since we last parted ways. How did you end up down here?”

Erik’s smile vanished, and he started prodding his eggs and ham.

“Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you can’t hide from your past,” Erik said. “I wasn’t aware the Obelitians were keeping an eye out for me after the war against the Black Darts. They had unfinished business with me.”

Gage gave him a few moments to eat, his bright yellow eyes taking Erik in. One ear was pierced with a ring of stone veined with glowing green lines. His clothes were slightly grubby, and he smelled like he hadn’t bathed for a few days, but he certainly hadn’t been neglected. There were heavy bruises along his forearms, though, and one eye looked like it was almost finished recovering from a bad bruise. Erik certainly knew how his former people felt about him. 

But the one thing he didn’t know was why. Would it be right to ask him? Maybe it would help with his mission, help him understand better why it was up to the soran to judge him. Gage hummed lowly, and Erik lifted a brow at him.

“I knew a Draconite was coming to visit, but I didn’t know why,” Erik said. He leaned back and folded his arms. “Then they happen to send one of the two I came to know. What is your real purpose, Gage?”

“I was about to ask you why,” Gage quickly responded. Erik’s eyes fell to his food.

“You don’t want to know all of that,” he murmured.

“I think it will help if you told me,” Gage said. He gestured. “The Obelitians — Governor Hevan would gladly execute you if he didn’t have to abide by Tyrellan law. Only Soran Elemsra has the power to put you through a full trial and determine whether or not you live for…well, for whatever it is you’ve done.”

Erik’s eyes widened upon Gage, his hands falling to his lap. Gage hurried to finish.

“Our queen, Queen Tasaru, is embarking on the E’lsra, and Hevan is letting you go with us,” Gage said. “She needs a translator of Unvaven, and she hopes that as a member of their royal House and an acquaintance to the Draconite warriors, you can provide some rapport for her.” He tapped his claws on the table. “Besides, wouldn’t it be better than sitting in this cave for the rest of your life?”

Erik let out a hot breath and shook his head. Gage waited patiently for a response, flicking a crumb off the table. 

“Wait to die, or die immediately?” Erik said with a humorless chuckle. “Tyrenn could hardly stand me — why would his sister think any differently? I abused my province, kept anyone from sending for help. Tanyar and Hevan probably saw the Black Darts as a godsend. I was scared out of my wits…” He stood and paced towards the alcove, and then back to the table. He kept chewing on his upper lip, trying to find the right words. Then he leaned on the table and met Gage’s eyes. “When you have absolute power, you can either bless people or make their lives miserable. If you let it get to your head, you lose yourself in some vortex that’s hard to escape. I don’t know if you really understand that, Gage, but in my power, in executing my laws, I hurt a lot of people. Then the Black Darts came and created some uprisings against me…that’s why I ran away. I had power, but deep down, I am a coward.” He jammed a finger against the table. “But know this: I did my duty. I enforced the laws to the fullest, and I created rock-solid peace. I ruled my people as a member of the Noble House of Treth, with bloodline authority from Lord Kess himself. I did what my mother refused to do when she abandoned me here and ran away. If the soran didn’t want that, she should have sent someone aside from my mother to Obelisk.”

“I…I understand,” Gage said. He lowered his head slightly. “Thank-you for telling me, Erik. That means a lot to me.”

“No details?” Erik suddenly demanded. Gage stood.

“I don’t need to know the details to know that you’ve changed,” Gage said. “I’m sure you’ve done some grisly things. Why else would Hevan want you either dead or off the island? But don’t tell me, please. Save that for the soran.”

“What if I don’t go?” Erik said. Gage shrugged.

“Then you’ll stay in this pit in near proximity to all the people who hate you,” Gage said. He lifted his hands. “Or come with Tasaru. Go to the soran, and plead your case with her. Maybe even start a new life in Tyrell.”

Erik’s eyes grew wet, his brows pinching upward. He stroked his beard.

“Well,” he sighed. “Well…you’re right. There’s nothing left for me in the Southern Isles, not even…” He shook his head again and lifted a hand to Gage. “I’ll do it. I’ll help Tasaru, and even if there’s the slimmest chance Elemsra will grant me even my life, I’ll take it.”

Gage clasped his hand, letting out a breath of relief. Erik nodded to himself, pumping his fists and turning to the door. Gage used the crystal to signal those on the other side, and the door soon opened.

Several elven guards converged on them and yanked them out. Gage snarled, writhing his body to escape their grasp. Erik swore as three guards immobilized him. Gage twisted his head to the side as E’oan approached him, and at his side was an elven lady bound wrist and ankle with silvery chains. He caught his breath. Every inch of her was covered in glowing green lines and runes, and her eyes were milky as she grimaced. One hand held a steel loop, from which hung the dark stone rings with glowing lines.

“Him,” E’oan stated, pointing at Gage. The female Unia’a smiled in a manic way and plucked a ring from her loop before approaching Gage.

Her hands reached out to him, her manacled wrists raw and crusted with blood. The smell of pepper around her was overwhelming. Gage sneezed and snarled as two of the guards seized his relatively delicate ears. He jerked when the glowing elf pinched a ring into his ear. A burning sensation snaked from it and across his skull. Gage shook his head violently, and the guards finally released him.

Gage ripped his helm off and clawed at the crown of his head, displacing feathers and hairs. The burn dug into his muscle and bone. Tears escaped his eyes, and his growling echoed through the chamber. Finally the burn dissipated, leaving only a soft ringing in his ears.

“What in Zarem’s name was that?!” Gage snapped, jumping to his feet.

“Insurance,” E’oan grunted.

He motioned to Erik’s guards, and they shoved him beside Gage, and then he made a signal to a few other guards, who gently guided the strange, glowing elf back to one of the doors. She started laughing. Gage’s hand itched to draw his sword Silence from his hip, but no matter how much E’oan deserved a new scar, Gage forced himself to listen. E’oan gazed blankly at Gage.

“When Erik first came here, he was also fitted with a grudge ring,” E’oan said. “Each ring has a mate; you got the counterpart. The Governor has forbidden me to say much more, except that only one with the Loran magic can remove it from your ear. We know there is Loran in abundance in Tyrell, so that shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

“What does it do?” Gage hissed.

“I cannot tell you; Hevan has forbidden it,” E’oan said, his eyes hardening. Gage bore his teeth, and E’oan sighed. “It binds you to Erik. You will find out soon enough.”

“Great,” Gage muttered, looking at Erik. The fallen prince was looking down; maybe he knew what the grudge rings did. He took a deep breath and jabbed a claw towards E’oan. “I never gave Hevan permission to ensorcel me.”

“Really?” E’oan said. He made a motion to some of the elves around the desk, and one of them lifted a thin stone box and brought it to E’oan. He opened it and pulled out a paper, and after glancing it over, held it to Gage. “Hevan entrusted me with the contract he and Queen Tasaru signed in regards to Erik. Take a look for yourself.”

Gage had already read the letter, as it had passed through the Draconites, but he snatched it anyway and glared at the lettering. It was in Common, the shared language of the Southern Isles.

To Queen Tasaru Krohn, High Priestess Aero Enkar, and the Royal Advisors,

In full transparency and oath, I hereby give custody of Erik Via’tazt to the Ramirran queen, Queen Tasaru Krohn, and any persons she deems necessary for the safe transfer of Erik to the high court of Soran Elemsra IV of the Noble House of Treth. Conditions: I, Hevan, will provide personal security in any way, shape, form to insure that Erik Via’tazt is brought to justice before our esteemed soran. I Hevan agree to allow Draconite Gage Mon to extract Erik from the Bore of Ontal, on condition that Gage Mon take on my personal security that will allow him to keep a strong watch on Erik as Queen Tasaru travels to Tyrell.

If we are in agreement, let us sign together:

Governor Hevan of Obelisk

Queen Tasaru Enkar Krohn of Ramirra

High Priestess Aero Enkar of the Draconite Clan

“So, this is Hevan’s ‘personal security’?” Gage said, yanking on the ring. He gasped at the pain it caused, and E’oan carefully took the contract from Gage’s claws. Gage huffed. “I wouldn’t call that transparent, but…I guess I agreed to it through Aero.” 

Gage stiffened when he heard a mental snarl from Derajk Dragonhart, the spirit inhabiting the ovular Gift on his chest, followed by a crackling rumble like ice breaking. His heart shuddered. If the Founder spirit within had something to be angry about, he had good reason to worry. 

Be strong, young one, Derajk warned. Remember who you are, and remember your oaths to Zarem and the Draconite clan. Your faith is about to be tempered.

Gage gazed at Erik again, who looked upon Gage with concern. A strange warmth trickled from the grudge ring and into his skull, nudging aside Derajk’s presence. Trying to keep a sudden irritation out of his voice, Gage gestured.

“I guess we should go, Prince Erik,” he said.

“He’s no prince,” one of Erik’s guards muttered as they pushed him towards Gage.

“This way,” E’oan boomed, leading them out of the prison dome. Erik stayed close behind and to the side, staring at his feet as he slouched.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Sorry that he had known about the grudge ring? Sorry that Gage had to escort him to a possible death? Gage took a deep breath. Refocus. The rings weren’t his fault.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Besides, if you do have anything to apologize for, save it for the soran. You are with a friend now.”

Erik looked up with a grateful smile as E’oan led them back out into the Bore.

© 2022 by Sarah Bailey. This is not representative of the final product.