Aelindor Starweaver's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Aelindor Starweaver had killed a hundred monsters, but never one that laughed at him. The famous elven hero stood at the mouth of the abandoned mine, sword drawn, and counted the goblins blocking his path. Nine. Maybe ten. They crowded the weathered stone passage, waving rusted picks. Behind them ran the only tunnels down to Undergnarl's deepest ruin, where the legendary blade lay sealed. Aelindor had crossed three kingdoms for that weapon. Now a pack of pests stood between him and everything. He charged the entrance. The goblins scattered like rats, then swarmed back. They knew these tunnels. Aelindor did not. He struck two down, but the rest slipped behind loose rock and hurled stones from the dark. A pick grazed his shoulder. He backed out into daylight, breathing hard. Brute force would not clear this warren. He needed another way in. "You'll die in there, elf." The voice came from a broad-shouldered boy leaning against a cart near the entrance. Derek Malone. Aelindor knew him. He had shamed this bully before the whole town, defending a young smith's work. Derek had fled that day. Now he stood grinning, arms crossed, a length of chain looped through his belt. "I know these hills," Derek said. "There's a second shaft. Old air vent. Drops you below the goblins, past their guard." He spat. "Cost you, though." Aelindor studied him. The boy wanted something more than coin. He wanted to watch a hero beg. "Name it." "Say it out loud. Say you need me." Derek's grin widened. "The great Starweaver, stuck at a rat hole." Aelindor's jaw tightened. Pride cost nothing next to the blade. "I need you," he said. "Show me the shaft." Derek led him around the rocks to a narrow hole choked with brush. Aelindor cleared it and looked down. The vent dropped straight into blackness. He fed his rope through a jutting root and tested it. Then he looked back at Derek. "Why help me? You hate me." "I hate this town more." Derek's smile faded. "When you're gone, they'll remember I'm the one who sent you down. Not the one who ran." Aelindor climbed into the shaft. He lowered himself hand over hand. Dirt rained on his shoulders. The daylight above shrank to a coin. His boots touched stone, and he stood in a low tunnel beneath the goblin guard. Their shouts echoed somewhere behind and above him. He had passed them. Then he heard the crack. The root gave way. His rope fell in coils around his feet. Aelindor looked up at the shaft he could no longer climb. He was past the goblins now, deep under the earth, with no way back the way he came. The only path left ran forward, into Undergnarl's dark. Toward the blade. He gripped his sword and stepped into the black.