Sunset of Lantonne by Jim Galford

crack, the lock shattered, and Raeln tumbled over backwards as the doors were flung open.
    Ilarra grabbed Raeln’s hand and helped him scramble back to his feet and down the steep steps into the cellar. Rotted wooden handrails on either side of the steps gave Ilarra something to guide her, though Raeln ripped one rail off as soon as he had gotten in past the cellar’s entrance. Once they were far enough down that they could see nothing further, Raeln reached back and pulled the metal doors shut, and Ilarra heard the sounds of him wedging the broken rail into the handles, sealing them in.
    For the rest of the day—and possibly the night, for all Ilarra could tell—they huddled at the foot of the stairs as thousands of creatures stampeded overhead. Occasionally, she heard the creak and ground-shaking crash of the golems, though they seemed not to come completely into the village, unlike the army.
    “That has to be Altis’ army,” Ilarra whispered mostly to herself, but it had become habit to speak her thoughts aloud for Raeln’s benefit. “I’ve never even heard of an army that large. Altis only has about ten thousand soldiers, according to father. That looked more like fifty.”
    Another crash nearby, followed by something banging on the metal doors made Ilarra stifle a scream. Raeln put his arm around her, and eventually the noise at the doors stopped, though it still sounded as if a thousand sets of feet were jumping up and down above them. That too eventually faded into the distance.
    Ilarra spent hours staring up at that door, wondering when the enemy would come for them again, but the day or night passed without further indication that they had been found.

Chapter Four
    “Acceptance”

    We, as a people, are defined by what we know and what our minds have enshrined in fact. The wise shall be elevated above the mighty, for without their wisdom, the mighty will never know where it is just to strike at.
    Embrace your wise men and women, for they will lead Turessi in my absence. The mighty may never lead by right of strength but have more than ample place in our society. Let wisdom reign supreme and teach your children well, for that education is their entire future.

- First law of Turess

    Therec stumbled as the servant who was supposed to be bringing him water to wash himself for the morning instead punched him. Holding his cheek as he staggered away from the man, he fought to calm his racing heart, seeking peace within himself. It was all he could do without furthering the hatred of these people. Faintly, he heard the sound of a knife being drawn and began to wonder if he would have to kill the man, regardless of the risk to his mission.
    Before the servant could strike again, two dwarven guards that had been assigned to prevent just such an occurrence rushed into the room and knocked the man over. With much cursing and a few well-placed kicks, the dwarves dragged the servant from the room, offering mumbled apologies as they departed, closing the door behind them.
    Sighing, Therec went to the window, looking down over the massive city far below the tower he stood within. Without giving it much thought as he studied the buildings and the far walls of the city, he touched his swollen cheek with a gloved hand, calling on the spirits of the dead to ease his body’s pain. Almost immediately, the healing magic cooled the skin and slowed the swelling near his eye.
    The magic would not fix the remaining hurt and bruising, but that was a limitation of magic. The spirits of the dead were willing to buy the living more time by removing larger injuries, but they had no sympathy for aches and minor diseases. Occasionally, the more heretical spirits even granted their followers the ability to bring the dead back to life, though such a practice was frowned upon by Therec’s clan and several of the others. Death was an ending to one’s story, not a momentary inconvenience. Bringing the dead back was grounds for execution,