Chapter Thirteen – A Trap

It seemed that Eltuthar was right about Alfimir. Felnir went to find him, and returned shortly afterwards, saying he had agreed to help. The archmage didn’t want to help Dilmir or Eltuthar, but the threat of the undead was something he could not ignore. He had agreed to learn the Velyor Enedil Asvarien from Felnir, and when Felnir had left, was preparing to depart for the Council Mages guarding Eld’rin, to cast the shield on them. As Eltuthar had suspected, he would not show them how to create the shield; only cast it on them himself.

It seemed too convenient to be true, until Dilmir reminded himself that this was only an alliance of convenience. Once the threat of the undead was gone, they would have to deal with the repercussions of what they had shown Alfimir. From now on, he had the power to create an army of Asdelarcen. Eltuthar didn’t seem overly worried by this, but his optimism didn’t spread to Dilmir.

However, this meant that the Council had the same advantages as the Asdelarcen. Both were immune to spells now. That at least was good, as it meant Ilrin was actually protected. The Council wouldn’t let her leave her home, and still wouldn’t let Dilmir anywhere near her, but at least she was safe. That was enough for now.

Eltuthar had left shortly after Felnir. It was far too dangerous for him in Eld’rin. The Council would arrest him if they found him, but that wasn’t what he feared. If the Asdelarcen learned he was here, they would certainly try their best to kill him. He was, after all, the whole reason Aranthar was attacking Eld’rin.

Therefore, he had told Dilmir to teleport him back to the dwarves. Dilmir had never teleported anyone so far away, but Eltuthar assured him that he couldn’t be too far off. Dilmir hoped he was right. Eltuthar had vanished in a blaze of light and a blast of sound, leaving Dilmir with no way to know if he had arrived where he was supposed to. But at least he was far away, and safe.

Felnir had stayed behind. Dilmir was sure the Council would arrest Felnir once they knew he was here, but again what Eltuthar had said about Alfimir held true. Felnir was a Dark Elf, and as such had powers the Council did not. Alfimir knew this, and knew therefore that he could be of help if the undead attacked. So he had allowed Felnir to stay in Eld’rin, at least until the danger had passed. Alfimir didn’t rule the Council, but he was an archmage, and his word was not to be questioned. So Felnir stayed.

Dilmir wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel anymore. He knew who the Asdelarcen were and why they were here, but he also knew that an undead army was on its way. He could defeat the zombies, but could he kill them all? And what about Cyprien? He was supposed to be leading the army, and would doubtless be ready for Dilmir. Then there was Ilrin. She was safe, but was the cost too high? Would Alfimir turn on him and Eltuthar once the threat was passed? No, on the whole, things had gone from bad to worse. The most Dilmir could say was that for once he at least knew most of what was going on.

These thoughts circled in his mind as the day progressed. It felt strange, not going to training, but there was far too much going on. Noon arrived, and Aimim provided lunch for the three of them (Felnir was still there, having nowhere else to go).

Dilmir asked Felnir about the Asdelarcen. They might be Cursed, but they knew things they shouldn’t, like how to enchant energy. And during their last attack on him, their spells had swerved to avoid an obstacle.

“That’s nothing new,” Felnir said when Dilmir mentioned this. He grabbed a hunk of bread and bit into it with gusto. Apparently being on the run with Eltuthar hadn’t afforded a great opportunity for large meals. “Spells can be as simple or as complex as you make them. You can easily make a spell sense what’s in front of it, and turn to avoid it. You’ll probably learn that before your training ends. You just don’t see it done very often.”

Dilmir nodded. That made sense. “What about enchanting energy, though?” he said. “I thought only Eltuthar knew how to do that.”

“So did I,” Felnir said, now grabbing a wheel of cheese and cutting himself a large wedge. “But you have to remember that the secrets of magic were known and studied long before the Curse was cast. A lot’s been forgotten since then. Eltuthar is just rediscovering it.”

“So Aranthar must have just found out the same secret,” Dilmir realized.

Felnir nodded, mouth finally too full to speak.

If anything, that made Aranthar more dangerous. He and Eltuthar had both been studying magic, but Aranthar had been doing so for much longer. Who knew what secrets he had discovered which Eltuthar knew nothing about? How were they possibly going to survive Aranthar when he finally decided to attack?

The undead. They were the threat right now. One problem at a time. They’d deal with Aranthar when he arrived.

They finished lunch soon after. Not sure what else to do, Dilmir decided to go to training. He was sure Erundil would be waiting for him, and there wasn’t much else he could do right now. Ilrin was safe, the Asdelarcen had the Council to deal with, and Alfimir was sure to have scouts scouring the forests around Eld’rin, searching for the undead. Until the undead came, Dilmir might as well continue training.

Felnir said he would stay put. Alfimir had given him leave to stay in Eld’rin until the threat was past, but he was still a Dark Elf. Many here thought of him as the enemy, so it was best if he didn’t go walking around Eld’rin if he didn’t need to.

Dilmir strapped on his tarrenith and his sword, donned a cloak, and opened the door. Eld’rin was unusually quiet. The presence of the mages inside the city had made the atmosphere tense. The Council had chosen not to tell people about the approaching army until they found it, to prevent a panic, so it was the Asdelarcen the people feared. Dilmir was no longer their only target, and if the Council was taking the threat seriously, then so should they. As a result, almost everyone was either home, or at training. Very few elves were to be seen walking about Eld’rin.

The uneasy atmosphere quickly spread to Dilmir as he stood in the doorway. Felnir came up behind him.

“Everything fine?” he asked.

Dilmir nodded. “Just thinking,” he said. He descended the steps to the ground below.

“Be careful,” Aimim said, standing in the doorway as well.

Dilmir turned. “You be careful too,” he said. “The Asdelarcen don’t seem to be after me anymore.”

“She’ll be fine,” Felnir said. “I’ll—” He abruptly stopped talking, looking at something beyond Dilmir. His eyes narrowed, then widened in realization. “Duck!” he shouted, pulling Aimim down.

Dilmir flattened himself to the ground, surging his magic outwards as he did. He should have done that before he ever opened the door.

A spell flew through the open doorway, right where Aimim had been standing, and embedded itself on the far wall. Dilmir had felt it as it flew past, and it had been slippery. Asdelarcen.

Both he and Felnir leapt to their feet. Dilmir’s magic raced out from him, quickly locating several shielded Asdelarcen – at least eight in total – spread around the house in a semi-circle, hidden behind other Elven houses. They must have just been waiting for him to leave.

“Venel’terenim, hart imit!” he cried. His magic dove into the ground, causing the roots beneath the Upper Quarter to spring upwards. Several Asdelarcen were pinned to the ground instantly. The rest ran, dodging Dilmir’s attack as if they had expected it. They only ran for a moment, before turning and all casting spells simultaneously at Dilmir.

Dilmir’s first thought was to block the spells with roots, but the Asdelarcen were probably ready for that. He couldn’t touch them with his magic, and he couldn’t block them with roots. What was left? He didn’t have time…

“Asin,” Felnir shouted, leaping to the ground next to Dilmir, “enneres ves elnen im il. Seneth mathal elnen arth kier imil.” Dilmir couldn’t begin to guess what the spell had done, but Felnir charged forwards, completely unarmed. He took all the spells aimed for Dilmir, straight to the chest before Dilmir had time to react.

The spells dissipated before reaching him, vanishing harmlessly.

“You – What—”

“I’m a Dark Elf,” Felnir said, glancing at Dilmir.

Of course. He must be using one of Eltuthar’s secrets. Dilmir immediately wondered why Eltuthar had refrained from teaching him this incredibly useful skill, but he didn’t have time to think for long.

Seeing that their spells were useless, the Asdelarcen Dilmir had not already trapped with roots – five in all – drew their swords and advanced. The image clicked in Dilmir’s memory. What was he doing? He had dealt with this just this morning.

He raised his hand, flooded his magic into the roots below his feet, and said, “Dreth. Kier imit.”

The roots shattered, thousands of sharp splinters exploding outwards, all aiming towards the Asdelarcen. As before, they seemed to have no defense against the attack. Several raised their cloaks to ward off the slivers of wood; the rest just turned and ran. It didn’t matter. The splinters caught up with them in less than a second, tearing into them like a thousand jagged shards of glass. The Asdelarcen fell to the ground, crying out in pain.

Dilmir didn’t bother trying to stop the Asdelarcen as they staggered to their feet and ran. The ones he had trapped with roots also wriggled free and escaped. He had beaten them; he had stopped the attack. Actually finishing the job, actually killing them, never entered his mind. It was the greatest of crimes to kill another elf. Only the Council or the archmage could make that decision.

Besides, the attack didn’t make any sense. Why had the Asdelarcen suddenly decided to attack him again? The attack didn’t fit with their other attempts to kill him either. Every time, they had adapted, compensating for what he had done previously. This time they had just attacked. It was almost as if they hadn’t planned the attack fully. As if their attention was somewhere else. As if…

“Ilrin,” Dilmir muttered, sheathing his sword. The attack had been a distraction. The Asdelarcen had adapted, trying to keep him occupied while they went after Ilrin again. It was the only explanation.

“They’re after Ilrin,” Dilmir said, turning to Felnir. “I’m sure of it.”

“Go,” he said, not bothering to ask how Dilmir had reached his conclusion. “I’ll stay here in case they attack again.”

Dilmir nodded, and then sprinted through the Upper Quarter. The more he ran, the more he became convinced that the attack had been a diversion. The Asdelarcen had shown themselves to be adaptable and capable. Attacking Dilmir without even bothering to compensate for what he had done just that morning wasn’t like them. The real attack was going on deep in the Lower Quarter. Dilmir only hoped the Council mages could handle it.

He sprinted out of the Upper Quarter, and made straight for the entrance to the Lower Quarter. A Council mage was positioned on either side of the entrance, and they, recognizing Dilmir, made to stop him. Dilmir had no time to explain. He caused two thick roots to burst from the ground on either side of him, shielding him from the mages as he ran past them into the Lower Quarter.

As he did so, he glanced back, and saw that Aldir was with the Council mages. This struck him as odd. Aldir was no mage. What was he doing there? He had no time to wonder though. With each footfall, more time passed. Would the Asdelarcen get past the Council? Could they hold them off until he got there?

Dilmir finally rounded the last bend and saw Ilrin’s house. It was surrounded, not by mages standing at attention, but several elves, lying prone on the roots. By the way they were lying, Dilmir guessed that they were either dying, or already dead. No one else was there, and the door to Ilrin’s home was blasted apart, leaving a dark hole.

Dilmir rushed forward, noting as he did so that several of the dead elves were Asdelarcen. So the Council had at least put up a fight. In fact, most of the dead elves were Asdelarcen. Only a few were Council mages. Where were the rest?

Dilmir skidded to a halt in front of a mage who was still alive. He had clearly been blasted backwards by some force, and had hit his back against the root. Now he was trying to heal himself, but his injuries were making it difficult, distracting him. One needed complete focus to use magic; debilitating pain tended to get in the way.

“Athen,” Dilmir said, touching the mage on the shoulder. He had to touch him, because he was encased in a slippery shield of magic – the result of the spell Felnir had shown Alfimir. Most of the mage’s injuries healed, Dilmir’s magic being sufficient to dull his pain.

“Did they take Ilrin?” Dilmir asked, kneeling beside the mage.

The mage nodded with difficulty. “Attacked us,” he said. “Couldn’t stop them… her parents tried to fight… knocked them out.” He nodded to the forms of Ilrin’s parents, lying just within the door. Dilmir could see them breathing. They were all right for the moment.

“Where did they go?”

“Entrance,” the mage coughed. “Main gate. Hurry; they just left.”

Dilmir nodded and stood. The Asdelarcen were fast, fast enough to attack, overpower Ilrin and her family, and escape. But Dilmir was faster.

He gathered his magic, not bothering to cast a spell, his concentration sufficient, and teleported himself to the main gate. Again, sound ceased briefly as everything turned to white. Then Dilmir landed at the main gate, right between two surprised Council mages. He was just in time.

Two Asdelarcen appeared, dragging an unconscious Ilrin between them. They had come from one of the main trees of Eld’rin, which meant they had somehow managed to run all the way through the Lower Quarter, and past more mages, before reaching the gate. Dilmir immediately sensed they would not be easy to stop.

He was wrong. As he sent his magic towards them, he quickly realized the one thing they had forgotten. The Asdelarcen were shielded from magic, but Ilrin wasn’t. Dilmir quickly merged his magic with hers, finding an enchantment from the Asdelarcen rendering her muscles slack and limp, and undid it.

Ilrin sprang to life, jerking out of the Asdelarcen’s surprised grips. They turned, not understanding how she had freed herself of their enchantment, and their moment of hesitation gave the Council mages behind Dilmir enough time to figure out what was going on.

Knowing spells were pointless, they drew their swords and charged the Asdelarcen. The Asdelarcen seemed to realize this was a fight they couldn’t win. They looked at Ilrin, somehow free of their magic, looked at Dilmir, all too ready to blast them into oblivion, and at the oncoming mages, their swords glinting in the noon sun. Then they turned and ran.

The Council mages pursued them, trying to cut off their escape with spells, but Dilmir didn’t follow. He ran to Ilrin, who was looking a little unsteady and very confused.

“What – How?”

“The Asdelarcen tried to take you,” Dilmir said. “They distracted me. Are you all right?”

Ilrin nodded. “What about my parents?” she asked.

“They’re unconscious,” Dilmir said, “but I think they’ll be fine. The Asdelarcen were just after you.”

Ilrin nodded. “I tried to fight,” she said, her voice slurring some. “But they struck me. They went through my shield… like you did with their roots. They drained my energy. Then they enchanted me…” She dropped to her knees, unable to stay standing.

“Right,” Dilmir said, hauling her to her feet and surging his magic into both of them. “That’s it. From now on, we’re staying together.”

And in an instant, he had teleported them both back to Aimim’s home.

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