Legend of the Twelve Regions

{{Fiction
 * author=Edward Bolme;
 * hasSetting=Moonlands
 * precededBy=Naroom World Order; Throne Up; Weave Got a Secret; Breakout
 * storyBody===Arderial==

Ora and Elios lay on a small, wispy cloud, barely large enough to support them both on its cool, cottony softness. They were high in the skies of Arderial, peering at the Moonlands laid out below them. From this elevation, it looked not so much like a world, but rather like a very detailed map. Only today, it looked like a map that had ink spilled upon it; a vast, black stain dominated Naroom, and the two sky warriors could see that it was spreading.

"That's not good," remarked Elios.

"Not at all," said Ora, "and it looks worse when you get closer."

"I was afraid of that." The two sat in silence for some time. In the quiet of their high elevation, wisps of strange sounds reached their ears, sound of horror and fear and vile delight. "So," said Elios at last, "I know you're thinking of something. What is it?"

"I'm watching Evu," said Ora. "Seeing if maybe there's some chance that we could swoop down there and snatch him out of their hands. Maybe bring him back up here and get him straightened out. Even doing that much will hamper their strength."

"You know, I kind of knew Evu," said Elios. "Real smart, very nice, rather absent-minded and totally fixated on jellybeans. No one else really seemed to think much of him except when they needed information. It seems really strange to me that he'd switch sides like that. He seemed so harmless. But then again, maybe that's the problem. 'Old Evu, he's just a doddering old fool,' they said, but now he's shown them that he has real power." He paused for a moment. "So if we do manage to snatch him, how do you expect him to give up the power he has now?"

Ora took a deep breath and released it. "I've heard that Ogar was kind of sleepwalking. I guess I sort of hope that the same is true for Evu. Especially if he's as senile as everyone makes him out to be, then maybe he doesn't know what he's doing."

"That's dangerous stuff," said Elios. "Why risk yourself like that?"

"I'm not risking myself," said Ora, "because you'll be with me."

"Oh really?" said Elios with no small amount of sarcasm. "And I'm going to agree because... oh, wait, I have no idea why I'd fly down into the very nest of the Dark Twins and all their evil."

"Elios," said Ora seriously, "It's only a matter of time. When the shadow geysers started erupting, people up here thought it was a surface problem... up until the moment one erupted in our cloud city. The same thing is going to happen again. If no one stops them down there, they will eventually reach for the clouds. If all the other regions have fallen by then, we'll fall as well."

Elios nodded grimly. "I know," he said, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't doing this for your own glory." He paused. "Well then, why us? Why do you think we can kidnap him when no one else can?"

"Two reasons," said Ora. "One, most of their dream creatures are land-bound. We can drop right into the middle of their area and grab Evu almost before they know we're coming. Our risk will be smaller than it would be for any other region."

"And two?" asked Elios.

"Two, I have you with me," smiled Ora.

"All right," said Elios heavily, "but you'd better be right about Evu. Because if you're wrong, you're going to be bringing a whole lot of hurt up here into the heart of our region!"

Ora nodded, but couldn't meet Elios' eyes.

Bograth
Olabra paced back and forth in her hut. "This is not going well," said she.

"Why not?" asked Eryss. "Everyone is saying we're doing very well in beating Paradwyn. They say we can march pretty well wherever we want to in the jungle."

"That's exactly the point," said Olabra. "When I assented to let him take the throne, I hoped that he would raise our people up, get us to be as proud as we act. But I didn't want him to do too well, so that he would be easy to remove once he'd served my purpose. If the war went okay, I could have surpassed him by winning a brilliant victory. But the war is going so well that any brilliance I might show would therefore be credited to him."

"Oh, I see," said Eryss, even though she didn't see at all.

"But this can work out, I can make it work," said Olabra, talking to herself. "But how? I can't just shove him out, because he's become a symbol to the people. I can't surpass him, because he's doing too well. I can't smear him, because he hasn't failed. Hmm." She paced some more, while outside a dreary fog rose from the ground as night fell.

Suddenly she stopped, and a smile broke across her face. She turned her softly glowing eyes upon Eryss and said, "There's no better symbol than a martyr, is there? And no one would question my leadership if I took over the grand designs of the All-High King in his name. Excellent! The problem remains, then, to find an opponent that the king cannot beat. But who?"

Cald
Barak sat in his throne, wearing magma armor. It was a tradition that the warlord wore his magma armor when it was a time of war, which was why it was very important that the armor be very comfortable. No sense in getting chafed by something you were likely to wear most of your life.

"Valkan," Barak said, "you led our fire team into the Weave. Tell the distinguished embers of the council: did your fire team destroy the Shadow Magi?"

"They have been driven out of the Weave," said Valkan tentatively.

Barak turned his heavy gaze upon the short Magi. "You evade the question, former bridge-builder. Did we, or did we not, destroy the Shadow Magi?"

"Of course, yes, more or less, you know, if you count the, uh, well, kind of, you know, they were driven out and, uh, well, their base in the Weave is, uh, burned, and, well, in the most strictest sort of literal sense of the word, uh... not so much, really, and, er, no. Heh." Valkan grinned desperately.

Barak drummed his fingers on his armrest. "You see, sir, we ran into some resistance," explained Valkan, nervously pulling on his fingers. "The Weave Magi, they're not so peaceful as they've always claimed to be. Gia told us to leave the Weave alone, but you know we couldn't do that, not when there were Shadow Magi lurking about, so we pressed on. They attacked us without provocation. We had several firefights with both the Weave Magi and the Shadow Magi, proving our power. But then the Weave Magi got to the Shadow Magi's hideout first, and drove them into the Sands of d'Resh."

"Rather than further aggravate the situation, we felt it best to withdraw from the Weave and pursue the Shadow Magi ourselves, but the Weave Magi didn't let up; they kept attacking us all the way to their border, and vowed to get revenge!"

"Revenge for what?" asked Barak, quietly.

Valkan forced a lame smile. "Why, uh, well, there was a little bit of a fire."

"Fire?"

"You might call it a grass fire."

"A grass fire?" echoed Barak. "In a region with mile-high stalks of grass?"

"Well it serves them right for trying to stop us from getting the Shadow Magi!" barked Valkan. "They're protecting them! I don't trust them! They're up to something!" Several other council embers voiced agreement.

Barak raised his hands for silence. "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "If the people of the Weave were allied with the Core, why would they drive the Shadow Magi from their region?"

"Well, why else would they fight us?" blustered Valkan.

"Maybe they thought we'd allied with the Core, and were launching a joint attack with the Shadow Magi," observed Barak. "After all, I was in the Core for a while. But if they persist in wanting a war, we'll be happy to give it to them."

Suddenly Sinder burst into the Council area. All eyes turned on him, for non-embers were expressly forbidden to disrupt a Council meeting.

"Warlord! I bring grave news!" he panted. "The Orotheans! They have taken the Scroll of Fire!" The entire Council erupted in an outrage. Oaths were sworn, fires summoned, and everyone cried for vengeance. It took a thermal geyser for Barak to restore order.

"Hear me, embers of the council of Cald," he said, his voice booming. "We now have war on three fronts. The Weave threatens to attack, the Orotheans violate our trust, and Shadow Magi still stalk the lands to the west." Barak stood and raised his fist. "We will fight these wars, and WE WILL WIN!"

The assembled council cheered wildly. As Barak sat back down, he muttered to himself, "But it sure wouldn't hurt to get a little help."

The Core
"So how does it feel, Evu?" said Warrada, surveying the newly conquered region of Naroom.

"It feels... good," said Evu. "They take me seriously now. I have respect. And all the jellybeans I want. I can force them to make me more!"

"Excellent," said Warrada. "You made the right choice in joining us."

"I know," said Evu absently. "There's only one thing that bothers me."

"What's that?"

"Every time the Core has risen, someone or something has moved to stop it. I've been studying this lately. Une defeated Agram at the beginning of the Moonlands. Agadon defeated Agram when he rose for the first time. When he rose the second time, that outworlder beat Agram. It's as if some unseen force, some higher power thwarts us at every turn."

Warrada hissed dismissively. "Pure coincidence. Une is no more, Agadon is no more, and that Tonyjones Magi has left the Moonlands. No one is left to thwart us. And even if someone thought they might have the power, that so-called hero would be smart enough to stay out of our way."

"Well that's just it. If that so-called hero were foolish enough to think that he or she might be smarter, why do you assume that hero wouldn't be foolish enough to try to stop us? And if we didn't expect it, we might be caught off guard, and--"

"Shut up," said Warrada irritably.

D'Resh
Few had ventured into the sands for many long centuries. This was not because maps were useless among the shifting sands and rapidly eroding and rebuilding rocks (although maps were, in fact, useless). It was because what you saw in d'Resh was not necessarily what was, and what was there in d'Resh was not necessarily to be seen. Thus most travelers, already hitting the road to escape the confusions and complications of domestic life, did not want to seek out greater confusion among the sands.

D'Resh was empty. It was as deserted as a desert could be. That's why it seemed the ideal place for Korremar to lead the Shadow Magi after they were ousted from the Weave.

Five sets of tracks paced the wild sands. One moved straight as an arrow. The other four twined in the prints of the first.

Kybar's Teeth
''"Maybe they thought we'd allied with the Core, and were launching a joint attack with the Shadow Magi," observed Barak. "After all, I was in the Core for a while. But if they persist in wanting a war, we'll be happy to give it to them."''

Targ'n sat moodily in his rough-hewn stone throne in the heart of the castle of Yark Eyrie. His eyebrows furrowed and knotted over his wide nose, he stared at nothing in particular in the empty throne room; what he saw was held in his mind's eye, and his bearded chin worked back and forth with the tension the vision evoked in him. He'd been having dreams, and he replayed those dreams over and over again in his mind.

The dreams had begun shortly after he had stood atop Kybar's Fang and seen the fall of Naroom. Kazm had brought news of an eruption of dark creatures, and the two of them had ridden the great Fang to the northernmost point of the Teeth to see. Using their magic, they were able to watch as the great shadow had swarmed over Vash Naroom and the surrounding woods. They had stayed in that spot for days as the blight slowly covered the majority of the great forest.

Then Targ'n had returned to Yark Eyrie.

The dreams, apparently, had followed him home. They were essentially the same dream, differing only in unimportant particulars. A pair of great shadowy hands rose up from Naroom, great paws made of twisted branches and wilted vines. They reached out, groping for the gigantic granite slabs of Kybar's Teeth. He saw the shadow of those great hands reach across the bright, solid stone bastion, and then, all at once, the clean, light-gray stone turned dark, all at once.

Not from the touch of the hands... from within. Targ'n's hands clenched into fists, vowing that this vision would not come true, yet having no idea how to prevent it.

His people respected strength; they always had. That was largely why he was the elder: he was stronger than almost anybody in the Teeth. True, there was one person stronger, and although Targ'n had bested T'lok at the Test of the Elder, he had won not because he was stronger, but because he was smarter. Not that he'd ever admit that to the other Kybarites.

The problem was, the Kybarites were not entirely discriminating in whose strength they respected. That was why they often had a huge but dim-witted elder leading them. And that, in turn, was largely why the rest of the Moonlands considered them backwards barbarians. For many long centuries, the Kybarite elder had spoken in one-syllable words, and now the other elders showed surprise when Targ'n showed himself to be quite literate.

The Kybarites had a saying: nothing overpowers strength. That's why the dreams bothered him. The Dark Twins were coming. They would attack Kybar's Teeth. And when they did, Targ'n had to show himself to be stronger than them. But deep in his heart, he knew they were the stronger.

He would need help. But how can a Kybarite ask for help, let alone the elder of Kybar's Teeth? "There's nothing for it, then," grumbled Targ'n.

He stood up and strode out of the throne room to one of the balconies atop the castle. He wanted to spend as much time as was left looking at the pristine gleam of the granite pinnacles.

Nar
Nothing moved in the vast, drifting wastes of white. Almost nothing.

Naroom
"So how does it feel, Yaki?" said Poad, surveying the newly conquered region of Naroom.

"It feels... terrible," said Yaki. "No one will trust me now, brother. I've lost my purity. Bummer! And I'm stuck with all the nightmares I can stand. And the nightmares will force me to have more nightmares!"

"Bummer," said Poad. "But I'm glad you're still with us."

"Woo hoo," said Yaki absently. "There's only one thing that bothers me."

"What's that?"

"They still have Pruitt. They're trying to turn her; I can feel it. They're wearing her down. We lost Evu. We lost Tryn. And now we're losing Pruitt. We have to do something, brother."

"Woah, Yaki, do you know what you're saying? They almost got you last time, my friend. You're talking about going right to the center of their power and trying to free Pruitt. That's crazy! They'll get you for sure!"

"I don't know how I'm going to do it, Poad, I really don't. But I have to go. I won't let Pruitt go through the horrible things I saw."

"You'll need help."

"Oh yeah," said Yaki gravely. "I just wish I had some."

Orothe
"Here y'go, Blu!" said Bria cheerfully as she handed him a bundle carefully wrapped in seaweed. "Keep it safe!"

"What's this, lassie?" Blu asked.

"It's the last scroll out there," said Bria, gesturing to the surface. "At least, so far as I know. Whall's going to try to get me Kybar's Scroll, and that shouldn't be a problem, so that thing right there is the last set of words from the old times, the last words I needed to complete my set."

"Which scroll is it?" asked Blu, unwrapping the seaweed.

"NO! DON'T!" yelled Bria, but a flash of flame and a huge cloud of bubbles utterly obscured Blu from sight.

"AAAARRRRRRGH!" yelled the salty old caretaker. Bria noticed that even when yelling in shock and surprise, he rolled his Rs.

"Ooopsie," said Bria. "I'll just leave you to put that away... safely." Then she hurriedly swam off before Blu's temper grew even hotter than the flaming scroll.

"Now then," mused Bria, once she was at a safe distance from the Vault. "What else can I collect? The scrolls were tough, so maybe something easier. A smaller set of items, and preferably one that can all be found in the same place. Hmm..."

She tapped her lips and thought for a long time.

Paradywn
''Not from the touch of the hands... from within.''

Deep in the jungles of Paradwyn, the obscene noises of the swamp drowned out the usual music of bird and beast. The sounds of guttural laughter, breaking branches, and slinging mud besmirched the air almost as much as the stagnant stink that rose from the Bograthian camp. Kioko and Liriel crept closer to the invading forces, pulling up behind a large, floral bush. Carefully, noiselessly, they pulled the fronds of the bush apart to peer at the gathered forces.

In what used to be a glade with a clear pond filled by a small, bubbling cascade of water, a knot of Bograthian Magi lounged with a hundred or more dream creatures. A dank green mist hung in the air. Moss quidos drooled from overhanging branches. Green stuff burbled and gluggered on the surface of the pond. The pond itself looked brackish, like stale tea. A fog hyren slowly and deliberately tore apart a stately tree. The Magi laughed and cavorted, and everything they touched ended up smeared with a bit of the muddy goo that caked their skin and clothes.

"We can take them," said Liriel through clenched teeth.

"Not alone, we can't," said Kioko. "There are too many."

"But we have surprise on our side. C'mon, it'll be fun."

"Yeah," conceded Kioko, "but once we pounce the first two Magi, we lose that surprise, and the other half dozen will send all those creatures at us."

"Then we get our own creatures ready first," growled Liriel.

"Do you think you can pounce with a dozen creatures and keep your surprise?" asked Kioko.

"My bagalas won't make a noise."

"And how many bagalas do you have?" asked Kioko.

Liriel watched for a moment, then shook her head. "Not enough," she admitted.

Suddenly the two Magi pressed flat against the ground. One of the Bograth Magi, a huge one, got up and lurched over to their position, taking huge, heavy strides. He reached down, grabbed the bush, and yanked up, pulling off several of the giant flowers. He held these up to his nose... and blew hard with a nasal honk that resounded in the jungle. Then he crumpled the wad of petals up and dropped them on the ground and walked back to his compatriots, carelessly wiping his hand on his coat.

"That was close," whispered Kioko with relief.

"I just don't get it, Kioko," Liriel whispered back, "why can't we hold them off? We always have before."

"Because they're all coming at once," said Kioko. "If they came in singly, or in small groups like they have in times past, we'd ambush them, pounce on them unawares, and send them running back into the swamp. But there are too many. We can't take them all at once."

"Why not?" protested Liriel. "We have the skill!"

"How fast can you eat a mushyfruit?" asked Kioko.

"Two minutes," said Liriel after some thought. "I could eat a whole mushyfruit in two minutes."

If Kioko didn't quite believe that bold claim, he showed no indication. Instead, she simply said, "So you could eat ten mushyfruit in twenty minutes." Liriel paused, then nodded hesitantly. "Or thirty mushyfruit in an hour."

Liriel glanced at Kioko. "I don't think I could fit thirty mushyfruit in my whole body," she said.

"My point exactly," said Kioko. "What we need is someone to teach us a new way to duel these Magi. Stalking and pouncing won't save us this time."

The Underneath
"We're trapped!" yelled Radget.

"I know," said Strag grimly. "They're streaming down from Naroom, and boiling up from below. It's like we're caught between an avalanche and an eruption." Exhausted, he dreamed up a pylofuf to try to hold back the advancing hordes of the Core. He looked up and saw Evu far above in the cavern, cackling evilly and throwing black jellybeans about by the handful. Every place a jellybean landed, a vile bhatar rose up, sundering the earth beneath it with its slithering, probing roots.

"We can't hold them here, Strag," yelled Radget over the din of dream creature combat. "Morag and Evu have got us in a vise. We have to pull back!"

With a roar of frustration, Strag used the last of his energy to summon a pack of korrits. "Run!" he yelled. "I'll be right behind you!"

Radget fled, her tunneler's boots providing great traction in the treacherous warrens. Strag bounded after her, his crystal claws glowing powerfully in the presence of so many Core creatures. They ducked out of the cavern through a narrow, winding passageway, and ran down its convoluted length.

They passed Emaal as they ran, hiding in a cranny in the irregular passage. "Gotcha covered," said Emaal quietly as the two Underlings passed. Shortly afterwards, a heavy cave-in cut off any pursuit.

Radget and Strag reached the other end of the tunnel, where it opened out into a large, carved room that served as an impromptu command center. Radget collapsed on the floor, while Strag dug his claws in the wall to hold himself up, his bare chest gleaming with sweat.

"What are we going to do?" asked Radget weakly.

Emaal scrambled in, and answered, "We need to get Ogar out here to help us. She ought to understand them better than anyone."

Strag slowly shook his head, his fungal locks waving to and fro. "Knowledge is not enough," he said. "We need power."

The Weave
Gia heard the sounds of celebration outside her farm. She rose up from her bed, joints aching, throat raw, her feet absolutely killing her. She did not feel good at all. The fight against the Shadow Magi had been tough, and the fight against the Calders even tougher. With how poorly she felt, it was tough to remain as smart as a seer needed to be. She paused, took as deep a breath as she could, and cleared her mind.

The sound of celebration drew closer. She walked to her door to see what the cause of the commotion was. "Gia!" yelled Kolte. "They're gone! The Weave is free from invaders!" The crowd behind Kolte cheered.

Gia could sense it, too, and she smiled broadly. "Come--(cough cough) come on in for some milk and tuk-berry cookies, and tell me all about it!" she said.

Kolte, Taisa, and Bo'Ahsa filed into the small farmhouse with Gia, while the rest of the crowd danced and sang outside.

"We did just like you said, we followed them and hit them constantly, sending in dream creatures from first one side, then the other, and then above, and below. We put everything we had into it. But they were tough, the Calders are always tough."

"I know," said Gia, placing a tray of warm cookies in the center of the table. "And they killed a lot of the grass. I think they need to be taught a lesson, don't you?"

"Absolutely," said Kolte. "So as I was saying, we put everything we had into it, and they fought hard. So just when we were exhausted, we weaved a road for them back to Cald. They took the hint and ran. But I think they would have stayed if they'd only known how tired we were. We wore ourselves out."

"That's the strength of the Weave, young one," said Gia professorially. She sat down in her chair, but it was not clear whether it was the chair that creaked, or her aching joints. "Deception and opportunity. Use them whenever you can."

The others around the table nodded assent.

"We owe it all to you, Gia," said Taisa. "If you hadn't thrashed the Shadow Magi so badly, there would have been trouble. And you really helped out against the fireflingers, too."

"Yeah," agreed Bo'Ahsa. "Hey, these are good cookies, Gia, may I have some more?"

"Of course," said Gia with a smile. "Victory makes them taste even sweeter, doesn't it?" She shuffled over to the kitchen and brought back another plateful. As she sat back down, she said, "Having those two enemies out of the Weave helps matters, but we're not safe yet."

"Why not?" chorused the other three Magi.

"There is still Naroom," said Gia moodily. "The Dark Twins control the most powerful region in the Moonlands, and have access to its magic. They are already reaching into Kybar's Teeth and the Underneath. It won't be long before they turn their eyes here. I'm going to need some help if I am to keep the Weave free of their influence." She shook her head slowly. "I don't know how I'm going to be able to do it."

Kolte, ignoring the weight of Gia's words to preserve his happy mood, looked over at Taisa and Bo'Ahsa and said, "All right, friends, let's start getting ready to strike back at Cald!"

He scooped up the sole remaining cookie from the second plate and ran back outside. The others followed him, slamming the door behind them.

Outside, Gia could hear Kolte's voice shouting, "Three cheers for Gia! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!" But she just set her chin on her hand and thought. AR }}