Chiani woke to the squeal of her bedroom door, its hinges creaking wildly before colliding with the stone wall.  Across the room, she heard her brother Nearis gasp, as he too awoke at the clamor.  Standing in the doorway was the silhouette of her father—an otherwise reassuring sight, were it not for the strange time of night or his urgent tone that heralded his entry.

“Nearis!  Chiani!  Wake up!  We must go!”

Father’s voice sounded strange.  From the light in the hallway, she could see he wore his plate and chain uniform.  That was even stranger.  Father never wore that uniform—not anymore.  Not since he left the Neriak guard to join the Indigo Brotherhood leadership council.  Why was he wearing his armor?

Without time for questioning, her father strode through the door, making straight for Nearis.  The young boy still sat in his bed, his eyes wide as they looked blankly at his approaching father.

“Chiani, rise and put on your forest boots.  Now!”

Chiani knew better than to question any order given by her father—even at the best of times, much less when he was obviously shaken over something.  Quickly throwing off her bedcovers, the young Teir’Dal swung her legs over the side of the bed to reach below where she stashed all her footwear.  By the course touch of rough leather, her fingertips found their quarry.

“Put them on!  Quickly, Chiani!”

She had expected to get dressed first.  If they were going into Nektulos on an outing, as often they did, she couldn’t very well slaughter forest vermin in nothing more than her nightshirt, could she?

Again, without voicing her questions, the girl slid her boots on, tying them as fast as her small fingers could muster.  As soon as the last knot was tied, she felt her father’s hand grab her arm, pulling her from her bed as though from the jaws of death itself.

They left their home fully furnished.  Outside the front door stood Chiani’s mother, her face a mask of worry and intent—mirroring her father’s.  The streets of Neriak lay in anarchy as the Teir’Dal citizenry rushed about.

“Kerr’Al?” her mother spoke, seeing her husband emerge from their home.  “Everyone’s heading to the city gates!”

“Fools!” the man muttered.  “Come, Thysta.  This way.  Chiani, keep pace!”

Still carrying Nearis twixt his arms, her father led them on a course literally upstream from the torrent of blue bodies. 

That was when Chiani felt the first tremor.  Then another.  And another.  The horrible grinding sound reverberated across the entire cavern she called home.  Chunks of rock started falling from the ceiling high above—an experience unprecedented in her lifetime.

Ducking into an alley, Kerr’Al found what he was looking for.  He hefted Nearis into the crook of one arm, and reached out with the other to twist a sconce on the wall.  The wood and stone paneling gave way to reveal a secret passage.

“Get in!” he ordered, allowing Chiani to enter first.  “Grab the torch, Thysta.  We’ll need it.”

Her mother did as he bade, and ducked into the passage after her daughter.  Once Kerr’Al made his entry, the threshold closed with a slam to muffle the myriad sounds of chaos behind it.

The passage seemed safe to Chiani, but her sense of security was hardly shared by her father.  With no time to catch their breath, Kerr’Al urged his family through the twisting tunnels, his practiced skill their only means of negotiating the labyrinthine route.  Though quiet now, tremors continued to shift the stone beneath their feet, and Chiani bit her tongue to keep from betraying her fear.

At long last, she could feel a cool outdoor breeze against her sweat-covered face.  The night air filled her lungs as finally they emerged into the outdoors. 

Though glad to have escaped the tunnel’s stifling confines, the sight before her nearly brought the young Teir’Dal to her knees. 

The sky.  It was on fire.

“Take them to Freeport,” her father ordered his wife.  “Chiani, take the torch from your mother!”

Obediently, the girl accepted the torch as her mother confusedly took custody of Nearis.

“Kerr’Al?”

“I must secure the Talis’Shar,” he muttered grimly.

“No!  The Talis’Shar is the onus of my family!” her mother argued.  “I will secure it!”

“The children will rely on your prowess of the wilds if they are to survive!” Kerr’Al sneered in return.

“Kerr’Al, what is happening!” Thysta insisted vehemently, her grim look reminding her husband that, though he may lead a full legion of dragoons, it was she who held leadership of their family by Teir’Dal tradition.

The steel-clad Dark Elf stood before his irate wife.  An arranged marriage, though it was, the two had proven to work well in unison to successfully bridge the gap between their two houses, and had even grown to respect one another’s strengths as they brought forth their essential progeny.  Though crisis it was, with hardly a breath to spare, the man owed his partner the answer she demanded.

“Neriak falls this day,” he declared.  “This day, the Teir’Dal are to reap the full fury of our Father’s divine Hate, and pay the price for the world’s arrogance with our blood.”

Thysta looked upon her husband incredulously.

“Go.  Deliver them to Freeport,” the man insisted again.  “The Dark Bargainers will take you in.  If safety is to be found anyplace on Norrath, they will have seized it.  Go!”

Her jaw muscles clenching, Thysta hesitated a brief moment before embracing her husband with one arm—the small boy gripped tightly by the other.  Try as she might, Chiani couldn’t make out what it was her mother whispered into her father’s ear.

Without further ceremony, Kerr’Al turned and marched stridently back into the tunnel.  Embroidered proudly in silver thread on the cape of his cloak, Chiani spied the great and infamous symbol of Neriak.  The emblem glistened red in the light of the cataclysmic sky, but as the man entered the tunnel, its glory gradually failed and became obscured by shadow.  Ultimately, it faded into perpetual darkness, even as he. 

Even as her home.

Part II

Back to Stories