There are those in this world who proclaim themselves champions of what is right. But they wrap themselves in a false cloak of lies stitched together to conceal their true nature. Those who speak the name of the Greater Goddess are wicked. For they have done terrible things that most will never know of and in the name of a god I cannot believe exists. But I know. And I will see that their deceptions die upon a fire so hot that none shall be spared.

General Nightwing

"Haven't seen them. Sorry, sir." In his response, the Imperial soldier payed Holand all the respect due his imposing black and red uniform.

"Have your men keep an eye out. Inform me immediately if you do." The sheer gruffness of Holand's tone conveyed nothing short of his desire that the command was followed with precision and to the letter

"Dey ain't 'ere," Civn monitored the conversation, even as himself in though and staring off into the forest. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, something wasn't right. But for the life of him he couldn't put his finger on what the exact meaning of "not right" meant.

A pungent burnt scent hung in the air, the direct result of desolation from dragon fire meeting forest. Even though most of the fighting had happened well to the north, the odor drifted south on a stiff fall breeze.

"Figured as much," his partner agreed. Then he added, "You really should wear your old uniform. Would look good on you. Maybe get you a little more attention and respect."

"Civn ain't no soldier no more." He chewed on his lip. This was more personal than business for him. "And don't care what others t'ink."

Arms folded, Holand swiped his head side to side. "Something's got you bugged. I can tell."

"Elves," Civn snarled. "Dey appear out a nowhere. Den vanish de same way."

"Creepy little bastards." There was a nod of agreement from his companion at the remark.

"Ain't no way we got dem all. Was too easy. Too quick."

Holand chuckled. "We burned most of this forest to the ground. Even that freaky tree of theirs. Perhaps the legends are true? Maybe they really were soul bound to that damn thing, and all of them went poof when we destroyed it."

"No." Civn's covered arm and gloved hand moved. Stretching out, he touched for something he couldn't see; only sense. There was a vibration. It was like a ripple in the air, similar to what happened when one tossed stones into a pond. "Dey came dis way."

"Who? All the elves?"

Civn indicated the answer was a firm a negative. "De silver-haired one. De red-head we be lookin' fer on behalf of General Nightwing. And-" He paused. "Capt'in Matir, who Civn want."

"You sure? How'd they get through the checkpoint? Lord Hedric has more soldiers patrolling this southern route than you could shake a stick at."

As his hand contacted whatever was before him, the tips of Civn's fingers passed through it and vanished. Before him was something akin to a doorway, but one that did not open to something immediately in front of him. He pulled back, processing what his senses were telling him was real, but his mind had trouble coming to grips with.

"Not t'rough," Civn commented. "Around." Again he stretched out, his will to bending the unnatural appendage he'd been saddled with. It took a significant effort, an effort he didn't like to engage in unless necessary. But he had grown adept at manipulating it and using that which was no longer flesh when necessary, none-the-less.

Now he reached in as far as he could, his arm stopping where his normal skin began at his shoulder. It was as though a wall prevented him from entering further, even though his entire arm had passed through the portal.

"Whoa!" Holand accented his inability to comprehend what he was seeing. His friend's arm was gone, as though he had reached inside a container. "Neat trick. A magical passage or something? So that's how they get around? I always just assumed it was invisibility when they vanished."

His inability to go any further than he had grated on Civn's nerves. And while he could not proceed, he knew the ones they sought had found a means to use the doorway he was now trying to open.

Although he struggled, trying to push his way in, the resistance Civn met was firm and unrelenting in its defiance against his efforts. He withdrew his arm, the understanding that it would take more than brute force to enter becoming a reality in his mind. Then his attention turned to a group of three pale gray-skinned, and more slender than normal, elves sitting around a small campfire, keeping to themselves.

"You dere!" He called, but the trio ignored him. With a sneer growing to consume his face, Cvin marched over to the troop of dark elves. "Civn talkin' ta ya!"

"Du mak!" One of them spat back at him.

Head cocked to the side, Civn regarded the words he didn't understand. Just his body language forced an explanation, although he suspected their meaning.

"He said," replied one of the others in common, prodding the fire, "we don't answer to you."

"How's dat portal work?" Civn asked, ignoring the slight.

"You don't take no for an answer, do you?" The third dark elf stood, dagger ripping from its sheath. The other two followed suit, drawing swords.

"Aw," Cvin tsked. "Civn wouldn't advise dat at all."

"The Fairy Ways are not for your kind," the elf who'd originally, spoken but in their native tongue, responded.

"Civn t'ink, not supposed ta be fer yers either. But if ya want ta settle dis da hard way, Civn up fer dat." His own short dirk was then to his ungloved hand.

As though it were a clear signal, the three dark elves attacked in unison. Two vanished into nothing, just as he'd seen them do so many times during the battle to topple the Elven Kingdoms. The third, and the first to defy him, came straight for him with steel and blade seeking to make a statement.

The tactic was easy for Civn to read. As he blocked the sword of his still visible attacker away, the other two reappeared in in an otherwise perfectly timed assault on either side. Civn push back, causing both the sword of the one and the dagger of the other to fail in finding their mark.

Civn took down the dark elf to his left with a clean stroke from chest to throat. The other to his right vanished once more, leaving him to take on the remaining elf in front of him one on one. An elbow to his opponent's nose caught the elf off guard. With a resounding crack, and now disabled, it was a matter of seconds before Civn planted his weapon in the elf's gut and ended any threat he posed.

That was when Civn recognized the same sensation in the air as he had seen before. It swirled, drawing his attention as his sleeved arm tingled. He moved his gloved hand with enough speed to block the sword strike aimed for him and that came out of nowhere. Metal clanged as it contacted his concealed forearm, the blade shattered, and he laughed as both he and the elf stood there; his opponent in surprise, and he in preparation for triumph. "Told ya, Civn not advise dat."

The dark elf tried to disappear again. However, in the state of mid return to wherever he had been, Civn's fingers tightened around the elf's neck. The clear shock in his adversary's face was very satisfying and Civn squeezed, forcing the elf to struggle against him for each consecutive breath. Civin felt how his captive was both there and not there, as though trapped between two places at once.

A black orb dangling from about the elf's neck drew his undivided attention. The strange thing had a bizarre feeling about it that Civn couldn't ignore, one that seemed to mesh with the sensation prickling up and down his sleeved arm. "Dat seem like it be important." Against the elf's protests, he ripped the pendant from his neck. "Civn take dat."

As he claimed custody of the item, Civn shoved the dark elf back through the rift, sending him to wherever it led with no way to return as the portal collapsed and sealed off.

"That was brutal," Holand observed as his friend was busy studying his new possession.

"Ya just content ta let Civn do all de hard work?"

"You seemed to have it all under control, buddy." With a slap on his friend's shoulder, Holand punctuated his admiration. "Always enjoyed watching you take care of business. There's something so elegant about the way you handle trouble."

Returning to where the first rift he sensed was, Civn once more reached out. There was less resistance than before as his hand entered again. And this time it didn't stop once his arm passed through.

"Where's it go?" Holand asked.

"Civn goin' ta find out." And he stepped through.

Somewhere beneath the mountain, wind laced with a chill dampness twisted its way through cavernous spaces and tunnels. Distant echos rumbled as the gears of machines cycling the air turned. The churning mixed with the ringing of axes striking stone to issue a mind-numbing din as new passages were carved in search of precious ore.

Scampering along a corridor, a dwarf moved with haste downward and deeper into the fortress beneath the mountain. Affixed on the walls were the occasional glow stone to provide a minuscule amount of illumination to the gloom. But all in all, it was mostly dark, a refuge from the light that would shine upon the outside world. The near blackness didn't bother the dwarf much. His people were used to it and had adapted to its nonexistence ages ago.

His back contorted in a permanent hunch, he proceeded with a noticeable limp caused from his left leg being a few inches shorter than his right one. Skin pale, he licked parched lips with an equally dry tongue, catching the tips of his longer than normal canines as he did.

The sun had just cracked the horizon when his relief arrived to spell him from his posted watch at the entrance. He was thankful, for if he'd have lingered the sunlight would have been too discomforting to be near. And although the desperate need to feed gnawed at the dwarf and consumed his thoughts, he first had to deliver some news. News, he was sure, his master would not be happy to hear.

"Lord Dagarth!" the dwarf called out as the hallway opened up in to a wide and towering chamber, something akin to a mountain within the mountain. "Lord Dagarth!"

The man he sought, a human, lounged in a disproportionately large throne carved from the very rock itself. Once the throne had been occupied by the Dwarven Kings who in the past ruled this stronghold. Eyes glowing a faint red, Dagarth lifted his head at the sound of his name while at the foot of his royal seat rested a comely woman. Entranced and infatuated as he stroked her dark hair, she seemed unable to tear her vision from him.

Dagarth did not address the dwarf as he hobbled up to him and kneeled. "Lord Dagarth, Gral and the others have still not returned. You specifically asked that I-"

A raised hand cut his servant's explanation off. "I know." His response contained a dry forcefulness that could not be denied or disobeyed; one honed over centuries. He stood, deeply disappointing his woman friend who clawed for his attention. He refused her such.

There was a void in Dagarth's being. He'd sensed it the previous night as it formed.

"Should I send someone to find-"

"No, Krane. They're dead."

"Dead?"

"Yes," Fists clenched, the dwarf's master reigned in his fury. "They did exactly what I warned them not to do. They ventured into Hedric's sphere of influence. Worse, they entered Roatsburg against my explicit orders. Now Lars knows there is another Blood Lord who still lives."

"He'll come for you," hissed Krane.

Dagarth flexed his hand once, twice, and then a third time before his face. The knuckles cracked with each motion. "Let him. I have gathered enough strength to rival his power. And I will not be as foolish as I was the last time we met. Nor will I underestimate him again." Sensing Krane's discomfort, "You're hungry?"

The dwarf nodded seeking approval to go and pick something from the slave pens. "Yes, Master. It's been a week." At this point, he didn't care if it was another dwarf or not. He just needed something. But he was surprised when Dagarth cast a sideways glance at the woman.

"You can have this one." She didn't even flinch, remaining captivated by his very words as though he were promising her the world. "I've had my fun with her."

Krane didn't wait. He descended upon the woman in a heartbeat, sinking his fangs into her as her screams filled the voids where rock once reigned supreme and unyielding before axe and dwarf had come.

This concludes Book 2 of Daughters of Fate.  Thank you so very much for reading.  I deeply appreciate all your support, reads, comments, and votes throughout the publication of this story.

Book 3 is also now available and you can find it over on my profile page MathiasCavanaugh.