...Saturday, May 31, 2008 \\
Dorian \\ 11:26 p.m.
I swung my blade across the neck of the last guard in reach and followed hot on Voláris' heels into the throne room. Only a handful of militiamen had gone through the door with Teph and they would soon be overrun by the Royal Guard. Luckily it was just a short sprint through the arched portal...
... And right into Voláris' back. I knocked her into the hairy, sweaty warrior she had stopped so nimbly behind, and she turned to cast a quick annoyed glare at me. I skipped the formal apology in favor of intently examining the situation, only to find there was no "situation" in sight. The throne room appeared quite empty, in fact. The men stood around muttering various thoughts to themselves and each other as Teph and Elana began timidly but surely to move forwards towards the royal seat.
"Check the aisles!" Voláris barked, and the men to the sides of the crowd complied, looking for any ambush behind the columns and easing the pressure that was building as more fighters pressed into our backs. She paced quickly ahead to cover Elana's back while I strung my bow and nocked an arrow and scanned the upper reaches of the room, looking for any overhead dangers.
There were no walkways amid the tops of the pillars, and as soon as I was assured of that safety I allowed myself to become enthralled by the beauty of the room itself. It was shorter, squatter, and narrower than any of the halls we'd come through to get here, and much cozier. The marble columns were fluted in intricate weaving designs, with cedar trusses behind each leading to buttresses set in each wall. There were no windows in the walls of the aisles, which were the full height of the nave, but the ceiling was an amazingly delicate latticework of stone and glass that bespoke a skill belonging to only the wisest of elves. The sun poured through like rain, glinting off the columns and lighting the entire room with a pure, warm glow. The glory here rivaled the most beautiful forests of the land easily.
"Dorian!"
I brought my eyes back to the floor to see Korind waving wildly at me. He was at the back of the mass of men at the foot of the throne platform, where Teph and Elana were ascending to the Chair. I jogged to meet my young friend, who dragged me through the group to Voláris at the front. "Look!" he exclaimed, pointing to the throne.
I peered ahead to see what he was so excited about. Much to my amazement, I saw Teph lifting from the seat a gold cap encrusted with sapphires and emeralds. The King's Crown! He placed it on his head, where it sat awkwardly above his large, red face and seemed more comical than authoritative.
The stiffness in his face from the battle now gave way to a joyed grin. "We have fought all this way to find that Eraajian never came to court!" he joked, sheathing his sword at last.
"Never fear, uncle!" Vern slung his spear-chain over his shoulder. "We will find the lazy dog wherever he lies!"
He and Reht conferenced quickly with a pair of lieutenants, then rushed off with them through a side door to seek the King's chambers.
Voláris, however, was no so easily convinced. "A man so consumed with power would not leave his symbol unguarded," she mused. "Something is amiss here; the stone speaks it."
By now Teph had dwarfed the throne even further by sitting in it. Elana stood fore and side of it, turned with one side to her captain and one to the militia, as if to mediate between them. The men were congratulating each other with handshakes and embraces and cheers. Suddenly one strong voice broke from the center of the red carpet: "Bow to your king!" it cried.
The warriors dropped to their knees immediately, followed by the lieutenants and Korind and I, until all that remained standing were the crier and Voláris. The elves bowed to no king, being of the understanding that God alone deserved such reverence; but what of this gray-cloaked stranger?
"My lord," he began, folding his hands before him and bowing his head alone, "it is no accident by which the Crown lay ready for you as a gift."
"What do you mean, Goldfar?" Teph asked, unfazed by the man's failure to show the respect due a king.
The lieutenant Goldfar lifted his head. "I mean to say that you were meant to take the crown," he replied, reaching into his cloak. "King Eraajian has given it to you."
With this, he produced from a hidden pocket a golden circlet set with blue and green jewels just as the crown which Teph had claimed. He took it lightly in both hands and placed it atop his own head carefully. Then he bowed fully. "The kingdom is yours, mighty warrior!"
The grimness had returned to Teph's face during the display. He now rose again from his place. "I do not know what games you are playing, Goldfar. If you are in league with the king then be sure that your time is short!"
"Not in league," the man replied, also standing, showing a new face of confidence. "It is I who gave you the crown: I, King Eraajian, who you seek to kill on no grounds!"
"You?" Teph questioned, almost with amusement. "The leader of spies who joined us so eager to see Eraajian's rule ended? And now you claim to be the possessed himself!"
I could feel Voláris' growing tension beside me, like a dark heat. The way she raised her sword unsettled my senses even though I could not see or hear or touch it. I could not recall if I had ever so strongly felt the heart of another.
"Ready yourself," she said to nobody in particular.
Elana also drew her sword, quietly but quickly. She locked eyes with me when I looked her way, and I could feel the pendant she'd given me hanging heavily on my chest.
"... only ever lied to you once, and that about my name!" Goldfar was shouting angrily. He was certainly no less staunch in his position than Teph, and no less forceful in personality. The two stood facing each other as immovable as mountains, though it seemed clear that the Captain would beat the Lieutenant in any fight, hidden magics and sided friends notwithstanding. Nevertheless, his stance bespoke a strength that any sane man would be foolish to tamper with inconsiderately.
I was not sure, though, that Teph was indeed sane. His eyes gave no such assurance as he thoughtlessly accused his man once again. "Liar or not, you have discredited my authority and now challenge it with that pretty little band about your scalp. I should kill you for your insolence and you would be lucky to escape such retribution!" He groped around on his belt to find the sword he'd leaned against the armrest of his chair.
Logic cannot explain, but I then realized my role in this exchange. I stood and stepped forward. "Teph! Listen to this man!" I shouted, drawing his attention. "If he is not the king, then his actions are not deserving of death. If he
is the king, then he is a braver man than any other and his aid would be worth more than his blood!"
"Traitorous -- You would do well to stay out of this, stranger!" Teph pointed a meaty finger at me threateningly. "A peasant who shows up at the door as a beggar has no place addressing the king as though he were a child!"
At this the gray-cloaked warrior took two steps forward, standing crooked and holding a mace behind him as though preparing to strike. "You who carries no blood of note shall ever be the rightful king!" He held high his right hand for all to see. "Behold the Royal Seal and the Ring of Farlia. They shall be given only to the one to whom they should be given. All else will fall before the might of the kingdom!"
"Enough!" Teph cried. "It shall now be decided who will rule this land henceforth: you who is foolish enough to turn yourself in when all else is lost, or I who fought and sacrificed so much. Gather those traitors who would call themselves your friends and I shall cut you all down!" He reached behind and took his sword from the throne as the militia, already giving us a wide berth, backed away into the aisles to observe the coming conflict.
I drew an arrow as I assessed the format of this confrontation. To my immediate left stood Eraajian, mace at the ready; to my right Korind, who had followed me as I took up the defense of the cloaked king. Voláris remained where I had left her, and Elana also stood still in her place. Teph took the nine stairs heavily, breathing hard in
his rage with a white-knuckled grip on his sword.
All else stood still until the Captain's foot reached the floor. As he raised his sword to deliver a fatal blow to Eraajian, Voláris leapt in from the side, angling her weapon just so to strike at his hilt. The massive blade snapped away from his hands and sailed over our heads as we ducked, clattering to the ground with a great ruckus. Eraajian pounced out of his dodge, bringing his mace around as he did so, while Voláris danced around the giant's feet evading his angry blows.
The tussle was much too frantic for me to let off a shot now; I would just as likely hit a friend as I would the foe. I also knew I would be nigh useless in close combat with the experienced warrior we had followed into this mess. Korind was similarly restricted. We stood waiting for an opening as we watched Elana take a running dive from the top step only to have her sword bounce harmlessly off Teph's heavy plate armor.
Without a blade with which to slice through the opposition, Teph had taken to using those plates as weapons themselves. He swung furiously at Voláris with his heavy gauntlets to no avail, while Eraajian's and Elana's blows glanced off his back and shoulders without leaving so much as a scratch. Finally, the captain landed a hand on Eraajian's chest, throwing him back towards me. I managed to dive aside just in time, but Korind was not so lucky: he had the misfortune of breaking the King's fall, and I heard his head smack against the stone floor when he fell.
Shortly after disposing of Eraajian, Teph snatched up Elana by an arm and a leg. "Backstabbing wench!" he roared as he hurled her into a flying cartwheel onto the stairs. She landed foot-first against a riser and I heard even from a distance the sickening crack on impact. Voláris bounded up between her and Teph to fend him off should he come to finish the job.
This was my chance! I quickly raised my ready bow and fired a shot at the first weak point in his armor that I could find. My aim was true and the arrow pierced several inches through the elbow joint. With a growl of pain he turned his attention from Voláris and his second-in-command to lurch towards me at a frightening pace. I nocked another arrow, backing away as I aimed carefully for his unshielded face.
Just before drawing, however, I tripped over Korind's unconscious body and landed on Eraajian, who was also still dazed. My arrow slipped off the string. By the time I had recovered my aim again, Teph was already in the air, sailing towards me.
At this point I realized that, even if I killed this monster of a man with this arrow, that I would likely not survive. He was at least twice, if not thrice my size, and wearing armor that likely was half his weight. Korind and Eraajian were in for much the same fate, I imagined. I suppose it would be a worthy sacrifice, three lives for the sake of a nation... but an unhappy end for me nonetheless, especially if I missed my final shot.
As I was thinking these things and drawing the arrow, I felt a fire round about my neck and on my chest, and against my left hand. In the tension of the moment I hardly noticed it, but it grew rapidly until becoming nearly unbearable. The closer Teph grew to being just over me, the stronger the burning sensation grew.
Suddenly, as I was still tugging at the bowstring, the arrow sprang like a sunbeam from me, breaking the bow as it went. One arm of the weapon slung around and whipped me across the face, stunning me.
When my wits were once again gathered to me, I leapt to my feet and drew my dagger. It took me a moment to realize that I was able to stand now, when only a moment ago I was on the verge of being crushed to death.
I then saw Teph's body laying before me, a gaping hole through his chest. His face was locked in an expression somewhere between hate and horror. As I stood staring in awe at the sight, I heard bits of stone and glass clinking off the floor behind the throne. I looked up to see a scorched and cracked spot near the top of one pillar, just under a large gap in the ceiling, apparently where my arrow had gone through.
I remained stupefied as Eraajian rushed past me to Elana's side, and as Teph's men fled from the room in terror. Then there was another crash above me and more stone and glass fell on and around Teph's corpse... along with an arrow. I stepped to it tiredly and picked it up. The fletching was intact, as well as the cresting showing that it was mine.
But from the cresting on I could see that it was not simply my arrow. Just above the last identifying band, the shaft began to show silver flecks densely speckled through the wood, right up to the arrowhead. Obsidian!
My eyes dropped like rocks to my chest to see that, where there had once been a black glass pendant on a silver chain, there were now only deep burns across my skin in the same form.
When I finally came to terms with the fact that the past few minutes didn't make sense, I looked over to see Voláris, Eraajian, and the freshly awake Korind and healed Elana staring at me. I walked slowly to them and extended the arrow to Elana.
"Your pendant," I offered.
"No, Dorian," she replied. "It's yours. The Pendant of the Red Dragon, the mark of the true King."
Eraajian spoke before I could express my surprise. "You are the last of the nobility," he explained. "The throne is rightly yours." He took the crown from his head and placed it on mine, and the rings from his fingers and placed them on mine. He smiled at me for a short while, and then turned away.
"So many innocent people died doing what they thought was right," he lamented, "as I stood by and put an end to it the way that was safest for me." He turned back again, resolve in his eyes. "But now we have much work to do to finish what I started. Come! Let us restore this land."
Thus our quest for peace was ended, and I began as King a new era of renewal with trusted friends by my side.
...Sunday, February 10, 2008 \\
Korind \\ 01:49 a.m.
Watching the last of the palace gate guards fall out of the grasp of Vern's chain weapon, I was already having second thoughts about our enterprise. It wasn't that I was afraid that we'd fail, it was...
There was so much
blood. The life drained from my face as I reviewed the last several moments of action: Vern had simply marched up to the gate and, with me nervously following, lifted the chain with both hands and swung the heavy spearhead at the nearest guard. Our enemies' shock at such a straightforward approach probably bought us back any time we might have gained with a more covert attack; fully three men were in varied states of totally dead by the time the rest of them were armed and running forward. Occupying myself only with not getting in Vern's way, I unfortunately had the opportunity to see everything in detail... near the end of the scuffle, some flick of the wrist caused his chain-whip to loop a circle around one guard's neck... I watched the man's eyes bug out as a sharp crack announced his end. Vern then lunged out of the way of a swipe and riposted by throwing the dead body into two other guards. They didn't even have time to stand up again before the tarnished spearhead came down in a vertical arc. It sounded like someone splitting firewood.
I was looking for somewhere to throw up when I heard Vern slamming a hole through the gate with another series of overhead swings. He then grabbed me by the forearm and started dragging me through it. "Hurry up, Korind, there'll be more coming any second now," he said,
his voice betraying an edge of glee through the graveness.
But I still couldn't concentrate, it was... this kind of fighting was still somehow different than the times in the recent past. This was much closer, it was--
"Go, Korind," urged Vern, glancing around nervously (or eagerly). He nudged my staff, and I followed his eyes to the heavy wooden doors in front of me. And even after all of this time, it was still a moment before I realized what he wanted me to do. Trying to pick up my nerve, I changed grip on my staff and bowed my head.
Come on, please...
The doors shook, as if someone had slammed them with a battering ram, and then, belatedly, blue-red flames started growing from the center seam between them. Gradually, other areas on the large double doors burst into flame, until Vern judged that it was ready, which meant that he once again hurled the heavy end of his weapon at the heat-rotted obstacle. The doors crashed open--the wrong way--with the entire crossbeam falling down one end at a time, and once again we moved through to the main hall of the palace, where a large group of soldiers was waiting. There was a moment of indecision shared by both parties until--
Someone leaped over the fallen crossbeam and rushed past us. Without even slowing down, she turned a half-pirouette to look at us and exclaimed an indistinct vowel while simultaneously drawing a bulky sword and... by this point, Voláris had closed the distance between us and the soldiers and rose from the spin, sending airborne a diagonally-cut third of the foremost soldier as she did so. The bubble of tension holding us back thus burst, things started to happen... Vern sped into place a little ways from where Voláris was positioned, and I... I faltered as I bustled in the opposite direction and lifted the glaring light of my staff, which flickered brighter as I thrust it forward, towards the nearest shouting sound. To my disconcerted horror I watched a man catch on fire from the inside out.
I had to jump backwards to avoid being fallen on by the flaming body, and suddenly there were more shouts in front of me. I took another leap backwards in an effort to see what was coming at me, but with the water in my eyes, and the burning-human smell--I could only see that my staff seemed to blaze as I gripped it even tighter and pushed it forward with both hands, to which there was the reply of a chorus of screams, including my own. I realized I had dropped my staff, and that my hands felt wet, and... I fell over. Wiping my eyes only made my face wetter with--blood. I passively noticed that I was missing two fingers off my right hand and a third was only partially there, I could also see that the battle was growing in size; a raggedy bunch had come in the same way as we had and--
"Korind, keep fighting!" shouted Voláris, grabbing me by the forearm. She did something quick with her other hand, the one that held her sword--
her sword, now--and sent a miserable offender scrabbling at his neck which now gushed with red. And then she saw my hand...
"Hold on," she said, and then she was off again, dancing off like a ribbon, effortlessly cutting shapes in people, shapes that had so many angles that they were nearly circular... and suddenly I felt something in my back, pushing me upwards to stand, and also felt that my hand had stopped hurting. I looked down at it wildly to find that it was no longer bleeding, as if the healing process had been sped up a hundredfold, where I could even touch the scabby surface without pain. The thing in my back was someone's hand.
"You go," he murmured in my ear, and by the time I'd turned around the man had already slipped forward towards the fray. I caught a glimpse of gray robes and a rusty mace held aloft before both robes and mace lurched out of view. And then it was apparent that the area in which I was standing was already out of immediate danger; the fight had been pushed almost all the way down the main hall already. And it was then that I saw exactly how the battle was going. There was Voláris--floating from victim to victim like some ultra-efficient, carnivorous butterfly--transformed by the sword that was home to her, and Vern, less like a butterfly and more like a single-tentacled sea monster in the way that he tossed men across the room. And then there were the others, including another girl who seemed loaded with more weapons than any normal person should know how to use... or be able to carry.
But the enemy was a large group as well, and growing at least as quickly as they were dispatched. It took me a few moments to register that the broad, metallic carpet visible just through the other end of the main hall was another wave of armored soldiers, not to mention how there were arrows flying that I knew weren't Dorian's.
Dorian! He seemed well, if not a little aged, as if he'd grown a decade since I'd last seen him. The way he fought was intuitive, a series of quietly-made decisions, as if he had a little archer on his shoulder sweeping a target reticle across the enemy flanks and giving him directions in a quick, high-pitched voice. And then there was a point where one or two of the guards had broken from the melee and were almost on top of him; Dorian had systematically un-notched his bowstring and whipped the six-foot length of wood across the one's temple while taking out the ankles of the buddy with a quick flash of silver, and then he was at it with a weapon in each hand.
By this point I had made my way to the entrance to the courtyard, which was partially clogged with bodies--I could see a number that wasn't from Eraajian's side there, too--but more full of armored men slowly working their way in. From where I was I... I wasn't sure, and then I saw my three-fingered hand, and then I was sure, as if that experience in and of itself was... a settling. Withdrawing the slender crystal rod I'd purchased just hours ago, I weighed it in my hand for a moment before hefting my staff in the other. Pointing the crystal towards the mass of soldiers, it was just a matter of concentrating a flame through one facet and into all the others and...
There. I just had to hold the glow of my staff steady through the wand's bulb and ignore the combined wailing of the men frying inside their metal suits... and then all at once I couldn't keep it hot any longer, and the damage had been done. By the time I'd dropped my arms, it was obvious that we'd made it into the courtyard; the hall I was in was empty, besides--was that Voláris back there?--maybe one or two people... I hurried through, closing my eyes halfway as I leaped over cadavers, all in varied, superheated-liquid states.
In the courtyard it was the same, except in sunlight, so I could see even more of the battle from where I stood in the back. Dorian and Vern both whirled around over
there, two ringmasters in their personal circles of death while at the other end... I could see Reht, but it was a different Reht, the one I'd only seen once before, back when we encountered the Beastmaster's creature. In daylight, he didn't seem so much to shine as to just look ridiculously clean for being in a war-environment, but more striking than his appearance was the way he attacked the soldiers. With the same grave scowl on his face as before, he moved steadily down the yard, hands like short blades--he drew one palm across his eyes before shooting it out towards an advancing swordsman, who instantly fell to the ground, covering his face with both arms while shrieking in a way that was awkward to watch. He was joined by another two before I tore my gaze further down the yard where I could see a larger man leading the way into a large hall. Something about the way he fought reminded me of Vern, something about how his large sword seemed like a small toy in his hands, how his extremely linear fighting style combined with his child-like energy level carved through shields, armor, body, and then kept going...
I had to hurry to keep up with the man's momentum, which carried the battle into what I guessed--by the sudden cheers--was our last object before reaching the throne room. More of an extremely long hub or hallway than a room, the dynamic of the battle was such that ranged weapons could not so carelessly be fired, and that Vern would have to swing his weapon in smaller arcs... but still, the raw enthusiasm of our side was unstoppable. I'd lost my focus and accidentally blown a hole in the ceiling when one hairier man ahead of me to my right actually hopped onto a soldier, ripped the helmet off, and then started beating at the exposed face with his exceptionally large fists. Then as I recovered and began to mutter the correct thermogenic words, a thought that should have been obvious before finally popped into my head.
"We've won."
...Friday, September 1, 2006 \\
Voláris \\ 11:51 p.m.
AHHHHH -- a million apologies :0. Now it's been exactly one year since I last wrote for Battlesong, and in some ways I've become a different person in that time. Hopefully this post won't seem too messed up :-P.
"Voláris!"
Finally, Teph's group was here. And amazingly, they had managed to find Dorian and Reht, just as they had said they would. As they ran forward to join us, the flash of a deeply familiar silver form caught my eye. My heart burst inside when I realized that the object flying towards me was
my sword. "Thank you," I shouted, grinning at Reht as I caught it. Up to this point I was sure I couldn't complete the tasks assigned to me. Now I was sure I could.
It was exhilarating to be once again fighting alongside people who, I realized, meant so much to me. I found myself wishing that the battle would never end. Soon, Elana signaled to me from the side, and I was sorry to have to pull away. "Voláris. I can tell they'll make it through the courtyard and the hallway," she said hurriedly. "They've won it in their minds. And after that, the throne's not much, if it's anything like what Teph's planning on. But there's something I need to talk to you about." I was surprised to hear so many words coming out of her mouth, and shocked when I suddenly realized what she was implying. "Are you... are you not going to follow through with the plan?"
"Please, listen to me," she said as we started toward the side corridor. "I'll tell you why I didn't want you to break into our meeting. We would have found your group eventually, but at that moment, Teph was waiting, and if he hadn't heard that Vern was alive, he might have decided not to get involved in this after all. He shouldn't have been; he's not to be trusted. You trust him because Vern and Reht are related to him. Indeed, he's a great man and he's always been a great warrior. But that was his downfall."
"What?!
What are you talking about?" Suddenly this young girl as I had known her before began to appear much older, and I was starting to see the reason behind her bitter expression. She grasped my hand. "Listen, do you think one man could control the trade system like Eraajian did in such a short amount of time? Do you really think he could have amassed such a large army in only a few months? Even with all his skills in manipulating the masses, impossible. Eraajian is just one man of a union of merchants and warriors. They've been planning it long before his apparent rule began. After Eraajian is killed, Teph will take over the land, and it will be a rule even more terrible than Eraajian's was. I know this for certain. He's just another tyrant disguised as a hero, like the one before him."
"How do you know?"
"He asked me to rule with him! And I almost agreed, until I--
"M'lady!"
Behind us Reht was breathing hard and his eyes were ablaze. "Change in plans. Teph says we need your help in the courtyard!"
"We will come," said Elana as Reht hurried back into the main hall. She turned to me. "Teph's too nervous. He's not going to follow his own plan. But it doesn't matter. If Eraajian sees the pendant I've given to the archer, he will understand not to give up."
So who IS the evil one now? I will be excited to find out. Hehe
...Thursday, March 30, 2006 \\
Dorian \\ 04:04 p.m.
We were not beaten, robbed, or bound by our captives, despite the fact that we were outnumbered five to one by the band of outlaws... or, whoever they were.
"Outlaws" was the first description I imagined, but their genteel manner thus far had begun to erode that belief from my mind.
There had been ten present when we were first kidnapped into this hut, each heavily armed but otherwise appearing as common townspeople. One young woman of
the group immediately left after we were safely contained, leaving the other nine to guard us: Three in the corner, swords at the ready; three in front of the door, their
strong staves a sure barrier; and three blocking the lone window, their weapons sheathed to avoid attention. Reht seemed comfortable enough in the company of this
strange crescent of all sorts of people, and took a seat on a small stool in our corner of the hut. I also perched myself atop a large barrel, finding no reason to attempt
escape, and certainly no opportunity for it.
Within a few minutes, though, the young woman returned to the makeshift prison and again skipped the formalities. "You two have caused quite a deal of noise in the
city lately."
At first I waited for her to continue, but she seemed to be waiting for a reply of some sort. And as I did not know whether she were friend or foe, or if she knew what
our purpose was at all, I struggled to form a safe response to her. My efforts were proven unnecessary shortly.
Reht, who had hopped up from his chair the instant the girl entered the room, now made a bow and began his own answer. "M'lady, it is good that you are here.
Even as you stepped in the door, I saw that my brother has settled to enter the castle. There is not much time."
The woman did not seem nearly as stunned as I was to hear Reht say that Vern would be assaulting the castle soon. How would Reht know such a thing? Perhaps he
had lived here and knew how to read the crowd... But no, that couldn't possibly be it, there was just something else to it. She immediately began to speak again,
hardly even taking a second for thought. "You will require an explanation, man, so here it is: A great number of us are resistant to the king. We heard about your plot
long before you ever reached the shores of the mainland, and our messengers have followed you since the day the three of you befriended each other. Indeed, we
had been tracking your elven companion since the beginning, when she undertook the task to free the slaves imprisoned in Ilodin. Our plans have been set for some
time, and we were only waiting for the opportune moment to strike... But it seems the moment has been forced. Are you armed, archer?"
I nodded, drawing my dagger and bow from under my cloak. The woman snapped her fingers at a guard by the door and sent him away to retrieve a sword for me.
Then, turning back to me, she bowed and introduced herself. "I am Elana, lieutenant to our leader Teph, who is also uncle to Reht and his brother." With these final
words, she stepped to the door, opening it even as the remaining guards there moved aside. She was stopped in her tracks by Reht's voice, speaking up once again.
Apparently the group placed great weight on the boy's words.
"There was one other thing, m'lady, that I saw as you entered." He wrung his hands, if only for a moment, before continuing. "If the elf is to survive, she will need her
sword."
Elana, again, had no expression on her face as she replied. "Teph has given her the Sword of Rest."
The boy shook his head. "
Her sword, Elana."
"Understood," the lieutenant replied. "We will find the sword. And there is one last matter as well." She unclasped a pendant of obsidian glass from her neck and
extended it to me, palm down. When I went to receive it, she took my hand in hers and quoted:
When the red dragon appears,
Sharper than the north wind,
You shall give to him to wear
The Pendant that shall not bend.
"The pendant is yours, sir archer," Elana finished, and then spun on her heel and left the room.
Hardly half an hour later, a large band of us were walking through the palace gates, fully armed and prepared in our own minds for a battle. The company of soldiers
which normally guarded the gate were nowhere to be seen. So, without any of the resistance we had been expecting, we reached the huge doors that lead to the main
hall quickly. The towering room, with a ceiling as high as the height of ten men, and columns around which four could join hands and still strain to reach, was merely a
reception area for Eraajian's guests. After that there would still be a huge courtyard, and a transit hallway three bowshots long, both of which would likely be filled
with guards loyal to the king. Only then would we would be in the throne room. And there we would find the king... assuming that he received no news of our coming
to indicate that he should flee. I knew right away, as I mulled over the coming struggle, that such news would be our greatest enemy, the hardest obstacle to
overcome, the most difficult to prevent.
But, getting back to the events: The doors to the palace stood open already, the crossbeam lying in smoldering splinters at either side of the street and the locks
flaming up like torches. And, peering inside for an answer to the strange state of the gates, I found instead another wonder: Soldiers were running to and fro, falling in
pain to the floor, and lighting up like tinder under a flint. Looking closer I saw that Volàris, Vern, and Korind were the cause of the scuffle, laying waste to a number
of soldiers far greater their own. Our entire group rushed to their aid, Reht outpacing even I to take Volàris' sword to her. I nocked an arrow and let fly at an advancing guard, as Teph brought out his mighty sword and crashed into the heart of the battle... Our assault on the King's palace had begun.
...Saturday, December 31, 2005 \\
Korind \\ 03:51 p.m.
“Is this all you have?” I asked the shopkeeper, pointing to the shelves on the far wall of the general store. All that I’d been able to find was a limited variety of runes and scrolls; nothing more powerful than what would be needed for a weak shock or fire-spray. Other than one oddly inscribed manuscript with a collection of similarly imprinted runes to match, most of the things seemed like what a magician would bring to a children’s party. The shopkeeper turned his head.
“Yeah, whatever is on display is what we’ve got,” he said. “And we carry everything anyone’s allowed to stock, within the bounds of city restrictions.” Planting his elbows on the counter, he leaned over and scanned my face, as if trying to see what I would want with more powerful runes. As the image of the wanted posters around the city popped into my mind, I puffed my cheeks out a bit and walked back to where the magic items were. After a while, I moved to where Vern stood, at another area of the shop.
“I think that I’m finished, Vern,” I said, pushing my items towards him. His eyes widened as he moved his things into one hand and balanced mine on the other. “Well, Korind,” he said, laughing slightly. “First time shopping unconstrained?” He eyed the selection: several of the larger runes that were marked with things like “spectacular” and “sure to please,” a clear blue crystal rod that might serve as a wand, and the odd tome that I’d noticed earlier, as well as the runes and reagents that came with it. It had taken a while, but from what I could decipher, the manuscript’s title read something like “Light Frirrak Summon.” Frirrak. I thought that one had to tighten their lips a great deal to say that word without sounding like an oaf.
”They don’t have much, but I think I can make these work,” I said, doubting myself even as I said it. He smirked, and gave the items another frugal glance before taking them to the counter to pay for. Along with my items, he’d mostly only chosen to purchase the essentials, like dried meat, a jug of water, and—oddly—a blunt, metal spearhead with a ring on the bottom end (which cost him a long stare from the shopkeeper). I made my way to the entrance and tried to avoid eye-contact with anyone while Vern counted the money out and gave it to the shopkeeper. When he finally finished, he came out and dropped a bag into my hands while hefting his own sack of coins up and down.
“Good thing they didn’t have much of a variety of your mage items, Korind,” he said, securing the lightened sack to his waist. “Or else I wouldn’t have enough money left to buy…well, there’s still something I need; you’ll see.” He smiled dangerously before moving away from the shop. Almost lifting me off my feet as he pulled me along by my sleeve, Vern quickened his pace and joined the streams of crowds that coursed through the narrow streets. Taking a turn at a crossroads and then cutting through another square, we sped up until the point where I had to run to keep up with him. For another few minutes we waded through crowds until he stopped at a corner where an oversized statue of Eraajian stood, grinning with hands stretched out benevolently. But Vern seemed to not notice it (or was just deliberately ignoring it).
“Wait here for a minute, they should have what I need here,” he said, planting me at the mouth of an alley. Spinning around, he ducked into a doorway, from where I could hear the light
ping ping of a hammer on steel. Sure enough, the sign read “Blacksmith,” and the slightest bit of smoke rose from the vent on top of the building. Moving closer to the open window, I could hear Vern shouting to another man, who replied in equally muffled shouts. Then, as I placed my ear at the window’s opening, the hammering stopped, and the two were able to speak in quieter voices. Robbed of my eavesdropping rights, I moved back to the alley and waited. It was several minutes before Vern rushed out, a clanking metal object hanging over his arms.
”Hand me that spearhead I just bought, quick,” he said, placing the metal chain-like thing on the hard stone ground and pulling one end straight. I rummaged through the bag.
“This?” I asked. “Why do you need—“
“Just give it here!” he replied tersely, swiping it out of the air almost before I’d tossed it to him. After inspecting the ringed base of the head, he held it next to the first (slightly open) link of the chain, which—I had only just noticed—was still glowing from the smithy’s furnace. Picking up the hammer that he’d also procured from the blacksmith, he placed one hand on the tip of the spearhead and
PING PING slammed the hammer down on where the chain and spearhead met. After a few more hard taps to the two links to even them out, he sat back, wiping sweat off his forehead. He turned to look at me.
”Sorry about that—had to get that done while it was still hot, and it wasn’t easy getting him to give that to me straight out of the fire.” Reaching over, the fighter picked up the flask of water and very carefully let some of the cool liquid splash onto the heated area of the chain, making it sizzle. “It’ll cool soon.”
”But, what is it?” I asked. From where it lay, the chain seemed to be about the length of Vern’s arm span, and made up of a patterned combination of small and large chain links. With the spearhead looped onto one end, it looked very much like…
”It’s a weapon,” he said, finishing my thoughts. “Like a sort of a chain-whip; I think the chain is meant for a horse-drawn plow or something.” Vern then slipped on his heavy gloves and picked up the new weapon, one hand at the bottom end and the other grasping one of the large links halfway up. The spearhead hung down almost to his knees. He looked around to make sure that no one was watching, and then moved further down the alley.
”See that crate right there?” Vern motioned towards the dead-end of the alleyway. Even as I turned to look, he brought the chain into a lazy circle above his head by tugging the weighted end away, to the side. Simultaneously throwing his front hand forwards while the back hand finished the twirl, he succeeded in hurling the spearhead towards the crate. Letting his back arm follow the movement of the chain as his other hand let go, he allowed the chain to fully extend before twisting downwards sharply, messily but completely shattering the crate. Vern winced as the explosion of the crunch echoed down the alleyway.
”Well,” he said, finally. “What do you think?” I waited for a moment, and then smiled.
”It would’ve been more impressive if the crate wasn’t empty,” I said laughingly. “But where’d you learn how to make—do that?”
“Ha, well, there’s more to fighting up close than swords and spears, you see.” Vern smirked for a moment before letting his smile droop. “Only thing is that this kind of weapon isn’t going to be easy to hide.” He began to loop the chain around his shoulder, and then winced as the bit near the top—still hot—singed him on the neck. I followed suit, picking up most of the items and sorting the others onto my person. Vern then stood up, putting a hand on the top of my head.
”That would be a problem, except for one thing,” he said, leaning forward. His smile grew eerily, in a sort of way that seemed to cause a shadow to drift over us. Vern continued: “Well, we’re not going to hide anymore. It’s time to visit Eraajian’s palace.”
...Thursday, September 1, 2005 \\
Voláris \\ 11:44 p.m.
“Well… are you leaving or not?”
No, I thought. But I remained silent, eyes to the floor.
Finally, just as the room seemed to be running out of air, the man spoke again. “You know, there was a point at which I would have loved to have you and your friends. I hear the three of you have defeated many in order to get to this island, and that you come all the way from some place near Ilodin. A funny little group—an elven warrior, an archer, a young mage. Hah, and don’t look surprised. I am in a guard’s clothing even now, am I not? We get quite a bit of information that way.”
“So… what happened?” I ventured. The other faces in the room were emotionless. Would they attack me? I was especially wary of the strange young girl, imagining that she had some kind of treacherous weapon hidden in her clothes. What did she do to become part of this group, and why did she look so—what was it?
“That, I cannot tell you,” he said; sighing as he relaxed his tall, slim frame on a chair. “I
can say that, well, I'm not so sure if we will be overtaking the throne at this point.”
“Can you tell me why Vern and Reht are, then?” I exclaimed. His eyebrows rose. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the girl had paled, just a bit. Same expression, though. “How do you know of Vern and Reht?” the man asked calmly.
“Seems like you never heard of the other two in our funny little group, then,” I said. The man shook his head. “No. I haven’t… I haven’t heard anything about them in years.” He frowned. “I was told they were wiped out with the master’s family.”
“They weren’t. They’re doing fine. Vern has put into practice the excellent swordsmanship you taught him. He also has your belief that he can conquer this injustice. Reht, also—he has the skill of illuminance.”
His eyes darted to mine. “So they will kill him, then? You—Voláris, is it?” He rose up quickly. “Come with me. We need to get out of this place. We can never stay in one location for more than half a day, anyway.”
One of the young men came forward. “But what about those matters we were to discuss, Teph? It is getting close to the day on which we must decide.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But for now, something more important must be addressed. I’m headed for our post by the palace. Elana, you come too. Your time has come, ok? The rest of you, get to woods near the palace, but don’t start until we’ve been gone for a quarter of an hour. Be armed, but as inconspicuously as possible. Understood?”
“Aye,” came the reply.
Teph then turned to me. “Did Vern ever show you his sword, Voláris? It is the Sword of Peace. And this is her twin.” He took a large sword out from behind a wooden chest and drew it. Yes, indeed. It had the very same inscription.
...Monday, March 28, 2005 \\
Dorian \\ 06:26 p.m.
Nightfall fell for the second time since Vern and Korind had been chased away from Reht and I. We still hadn't seen hide nor hair of Voláris, but I had a deep hunch that we would contact her soon. I couldn't figure out why, but I was confident about that one thing, if nothing else.
Of course, that could mean more than that we'd see her around the next corner. If we had been tracked down the morning before last, then we could be tracked down again. Why would they kill us immediately if they could capture, torture, and question us, and
then kill us? Maybe they'd even throw us in the same cell as our elven friend to live out the supposed last days of our lives.
We'd gotten away from raiding parties, large bands of soldiers, a castle dungeon, and even a Beastmaster and his creatures. But even if we managed to evade or escape capture this time, we'd still be in the same city and still be hunted by the same men. The prospect was not encouraging, but since when had this quest been so? At least now we were within the capitol, a relatively short distance from the man we sought to kill. His reign had caused so much suffering, and it would soon come to an end, if our luck held out as well as days past.
Reht sat down silently on a curb, resting for a moment in reflection. I had never learned his age, but judged that he could not be very old, perhaps even younger than Korind. Yet his wisdom was greater even than that of Voláris, who had witnessed many ages as they came and went. As though he was gifted of God to see that which held true and that which fell false, and discern a good course of action from a foolish one. As the last late evening stragglers crossed the road, my young companion sat down lightly on a curb. He was weary, I could tell, but he was trying not to indicate it. His eyes were dark and he hunched when he sat. He stared into the ground under his axehead and sighed, then began muttering something. The sky deepened with every moment he sat there, and every moment I stood watching. Soon, we were beneath a blackened sky with no moon and ten thousand stars. The only other light came from a single lantern on a building across the street.
Suddenly, Reht stood again, a new energy behind his gentle features. He stared hard towards the palace, then began trudging his way up the hill towards it. I had not noticed before, but we had stopped to rest very near the main avenue to the palace. Now we had almost a straight shot up to the walls, and after that, it would be a simple thing to sneak in and kill Eraajian.
Or so it seemed...
By the time dawn was breaking over the horizon in the east, lighting up the tops of the clay-roofed houses and ending the protection we were afforded by the shadows. Reht and I had slept in shifts and searched for a way we could sneak in while we were awake. After all night of no luck, we retired to the streets again and grabbed some breakfast at a nearby pub. The bouncer took our axes and let us past, but not without a long glare and a close watch. Reht and I conversed to try to avoid suspicion, but we spoke in hushed tones and were careful about what we said. Few shady characters ventured this far into the city, but there were many agents of the King about.
"My only thought is that we will have to go in as-is," Reht mumbled over the rim of his tea cup. His dusty-green eyes were like wells; so deep that I could not tell what was at the end, whether there were any life or if they were all dried up. The hot tea he drank seemed to help. He sipped it slowly, not blinking, only drinking and thinking. I could not imagine a better plan than his. Any other would get us executed quite quickly. So I agreed to that plan of action without further discussion. We left the pub and began strolling towards the nearest marketplace to see what useful artifacts we could buy or trade for. We'd need whatever legal and ingenious tools we could to raid the palace.
But as we passed one particularly narrow alley, we were yanked aside by a small band of gruff-sounding people, and all went dark...
...Wednesday, December 15, 2004 \\
Korind \\ 09:08 p.m.
The sound of grating breath, the smell of drying sweat, the sight of a crazy man with knives in his hands. I didn’t realize how long we had been running until my knees buckled, causing me to trip on a pile of bricks, slam the side of my head on the ground, and give birth to an enveloping aura of dust. Vern threw a glance at our pursuer before grabbing my arm and dragging me back to my feet. We began staggering towards the alley, but it was obvious that the man would reach us long before we made it there, not that it would have done any good, anyway.
The man was now so close that I could hear his knives whirring as they sliced through the air. In the next moment, Vern suddenly dropped my hand, stooped over, and swiped a dark red brick off of the edge of the road. I turned to see the man’s face lose its hungry look and morph into an expression of surprise. He cried out as the brick sailed towards his face–or was it after it struck him between the eyes? I saw him hit the ground, his arms stiff, and his hands stretched out, knuckles white. My stomach turned as I watched him writhe, but the inspection was short-lived–Vern rasped “let’s go” in my ear and seized my hand again. I followed him through the alley, and we burst out into the busiest square yet. I shielded my eyes against the morning sun and dove after Vern, who had dashed into the thickest crowd and disappeared. As I ducked around a woman carrying several folds of linen, I managed to catch a final glimpse of Vern’s back. I heaved my body towards him, dodging children, trampling feet, a clean-shaven man carrying many scrolls...
Eventually I stood before a row of old-looking buildings, where the crowds were thinner. I spun around frantically, trying to make out a sign of Vern. I scanned the top of the crowd, despairingly seeing several heads that could easily have been him. Seeing one particularly striking possibility, I stepped towards the foreboding crowd. As I did, a hand grabbed my shoulder and flipped me around. Vern squatted down to my level, his eyes large. As he stared me in the eye, he spoke.
“You still have your staff, right?” I felt behind me, feeling relieved as I ran my fingers down the smooth wood. I smiled gratefully, untying the knot that held the rod to my back. I held it out from under the shade, glad that it looked undamaged, save a long scar at it’s tip. Vern tapped my shoulder lightly.
“But, the question is–do you know where all of our other stuff is?” I shook my head, annoyed. I knew it had to be some weird trick question, but I responded anyway. “Still in that one alley where we got attacked?” The fighter smiled, nodding. “Yes, it’s all back there, and we don’t have any way of getting it back.” I didn’t quite understand his point, but he continued. “You know, some of our clothes, food...” He shot me an airy glance. “Your runes.” As I paled, he rubbed his fingernails on his chest and mused, “And we’ll have to go get some replacements, then.”
I stared away, watching the people in the square. “But we don’t have any money,” I exclaimed, “So how are we going to buy anything?” Vern leaned over, his eyes half-squinted. “How do you know that we don’t have any money?” As an answer, I just stood there, confused, looking at him uneasily. Even as the silence lingered, Vern’s face became a smile again, and he straightened back up, bringing a large bag of considerably vocal coins into view. Somehow, he knew what I was going to ask, and answered, “How did I get these? Well, the trick is to pick all the right pockets.” He laughed quietly, and then suddenly stooped down again, his face serious once again. “After all, why do you think I picked the most chaotic crowd in town?” He gave the bag a rough jiggle, sending the gleaming coins into a chorus of titters.
“Oh... kay,” I croaked. I wasn’t sure what to think as Vern led me into the nearest building. However, I pushed those thoughts away as soon as we entered; grinning as I headed towards the back. There, several neat shelves of assorted mage accessories were visible. It felt homely, standing there.
...Wednesday, November 17, 2004 \\
Voláris \\ 08:47 p.m.
I briefly considered drawing my sword, but in the same instant, I realized the harm it would do. It was not yet the time for a fight—I had quite a ways to go before I could take such risks.
“Whaddya say I report ya? Hmm?” The man came closer. I recognized him to be of the working class, but by his clothes, I guess that he was more affluent than most.
“Ah, report all you like,” I said. “Wouldn’t want a high-standing man as yourself pass an elf by without doing anything.” I gave him a carefully measured smile. At this point, I noticed that a few people had gathered around to watch the show. Not exactly what I was hoping for.
“Don’t think you’ll stop me with your foul suggestions,” he said. “I lived in Aneroh for twenty years and I know all about your cursed race.”
Huh. Was he really but a mere elf-hater? If so, I had nothing to lose.
Before I could reply, we were interrupted by two soldiers who came barging in, thumping their spears on the ground for attention. “We hear there’s a dealer of weapons here?” Ah, here was my time to exit. As the bearded man raised one ugly finger toward me, I weaved through the now large group that had gathered in the shop, and burst through the door at a quick stride. Down the street, around the bend, down another street, between two houses, and past a few cows tied to posts. It was at this point I unfolded my new cloak and made a slit in the cloth where the hilt of my sword would be. I put the cloak on and pulled the hood over my eyes, then walked back into the street at a new pace. I was going to keep to the largest roads, knowing that they would expand more and more as I reached the Throne. Couldn’t be too long now…
~
From where I sat in the tavern, I could see him clearly. A man clothed as a castle guard, but with an undeniable resemblance to Vern. He could have easily been Vern’s older brother. Across from him sat a young girl who was writing furiously on a piece of parchment. The girl suddenly stopped writing and turned to return my gaze. Her violent brown eyes did not look at me in curiosity, but rather conveyed—what was it? A general indignation? Layers and layers of tired, emotionless nothingness, covering up some horrifying tragedy?
Not being able to take this any longer, I stood, determined to make my way over to the table and introduce myself. Before I could take a step, however, the man I was watching signaled to the girl, and they abruptly left their table and walked out the door. Pulling my hood lower over my face, I hurriedly followed them out onto the road. They went on for a ways before entering a small house at the end of the street. Right before they entered the door, the girl turned to look at me.
“Don’t follow us,” she said. Or at least I think that was what she said; she spoke too quietly for me to be sure. Not seeing a good reason to heed this, I sprinted forward, grabbed the edge of the door before it could lock shut, and let myself in.
I found myself in a small room well-lit by candles. Besides the two I had followed, there were three humans sitting on the floor cross-legged. One stood up with his sword drawn as he demanded, “Who are you?”
“Hard to say who I am,” I said, “But I know that
this is a secret group which plans to overthrow the Throne! The lord of which I would have liked to destroy myself.” More weapons unsheathed. The man whom I suspected was Vern’s uncle slowly stood.
“Peace,” he said as he walked into the midst of the group with his hand raised and head lowered. “Peace, that is what we seek. Whether or not blood is shed to obtain it is not the main concern.” It appeared that he wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular, though I noticed the girl looking away as if she were offended.
He turned to me. “I don’t know who you are, but I know why you are here. I must ask you to leave.”
I stared disbelievingly. How could I just go? How could they not want me? Or what other secrets could this society bear? I lingered near the door, debating whether I should retain my honor and leave, or stay to seize whatever I could out of the situation, which would, without doubt, create more conflict. Was it worth it for… “peace”? Revenge? The truth? An end? Was it mine to know?
Out of character note: I'm sorry for the unbelievable delay; I know, I broke my record, and I feel really bad about that ;___;
...Monday, August 16, 2004 \\
Dorian \\ 12:40 p.m.
By sunset I had grown quite tired of lugging a useless axe around in double layers of clothing. As soon as we found a safe place to stay the night, I stripped off the costume and leaned my axe against a door. My three companions did likewise, but Reht held his hatchet loosely to the ground, scraping it back and forth in a light manner while we conversed. Korind lay down on a bench.
"I don't understand why we have not found Voláris," Vern said, wiping sweat from his brow. The day had been much too warm for comfort. By late morning we had already been perspiring; by mid afternoon we felt as soaked as if we had jumped in the sea for a swim.
Thankfully the sun was retiring for the day and giving us the chance to do the same. "I don't worry about her," Reht stated, gently sliding his axehead across the stone floor of our alley alcove. "I hear she did pretty well on her own for quite a while. It'll be no different for her than before."
The soft and rhythmic ring of steel was making me sleepy, and I decided to fight it long enough to decide what I thought the best course of action would be. After weighing all the options I could think of after such a long day, I gave my opinion.
"I think..."
"We should" Vern began, at the same time.
I wanted to hear what Vern said, so I told him to finish.
"We should head towards the palace," he announced. "I expect that is what Voláris will do even without us, and if so, we'll meet with her there."
"And even if she's looking for us first, she'll expect us to move to the palace, and will go there to find us." I sat waiting to see what the younger boys thought of these two ideas.
Reht expounded even further on my extension of Vern's idea. "The palace is a common goal for us and her."
Korind groaned, "not until tomorrow," flipping over where he lay.
The rest of us just nodded, in silence or grunting our approval.
But, while Vern and I lay down and were quickly asleep, I could hear Reht's axe slipping on the smooth floor late into the night, lulling us to sleep...
The next morning, I woke to a much less soothing sound.
"Dorian! They're after us!"
I bolted up and peered over the barrels I had fallen asleep behind. Vern was sprinting unbelievably fast down the alleyway, followed closely by two men dressed in light clothing. I could see the small blades in their hands glinting by the mid-morning light. Realizing that, standing between the barrels and the wall, I was an easy target for a few quick stabs, I vaulted over the casks, giving myself more room to maneuver.
At the same time, I was giving the two street thieves a more direct approach to me. The first to reach me was too startled by my sudden appearance to make an attack, but the other took a flying lunge in my general direction. I hit the deck, falling to the very edge of his fade-away reach.
With an intense burning sensation, I felt the tip of the small knife scratching against my back, and then piercing through at last. The sting of air inside my skin added to my adrenaline rush as I rolled to my feet, putting adequate thinking distance between him and me. He had performed the same motions in symetry, and stared back at me with a glint in his eye and a mischeivious, malicious grin on his face. That same grin that Dagren had always worn. Troublesome.
Armed, the young man seemed quite confident that he would win against me, the disadvantaged fighter between us two. He leapt towards me, and I folded to the side, mostly evading his blade. He still somehow managed to nick my shoulder again. We paused again in reversed positions, and I think he even allowed himself a chuckle. He was not even breathing hard yet, while I was nearly passing out from the exertion. Seeing my distress he sheathed his knife and cracked his knuckles. I waited for him to make the first move, while he waited for me to do the same.
Finally, growing impatient, he launched himself at me again. Just as I had expected. I made no attempt to dodge his attack, instead throwing a hard jab with my right arm. At the last possible moment he had realized what my plan was, and pulled up, greatly reducing the force of impact against my knuckles. Taking advantage of his momentary disorientation, I attempted to tackle him. But he jumped around me -- No, over me. My heart sank as I began to realize the true skill this bandit held.
Once again we faced off, each facing the way we had come from. He stood to his full height, watching me like a hawk as I grunted and crouched, ready for another round. Then, suddenly, he lurched forward, falling first to his hands and knees, but soon after flopping face down, coughing and heaving. The first thing I noticed when I looked up from him was Reht across from me, gazing down at my opponent. Then I glanced down again, and realized that the thief had an axe in his back, embedded quite deep just between his spine and right shoulderblade. Blood spilled from both the wound and the man's mouth, but he still found the strength to withdraw his dagger and extend it towards me. A long, red, dragon dagger. The one taken from me when we were captured.
Reht strolled over to me, warily pulling his axe from the corpse as he walked past. "These are not common criminals, Dorian," he stated, wiping blood from his blade. His eyes pierced directly through mine into my deepest confusions and worries. "No weapons are allowed in this city, except to those who are loyal to Eraajian."
"So, these are his servants, then?" I did not like the prospect of any man we passed quite possibly being a deadly enemy.
Reht nodded. I asked where Vern and Korind were. He explained that they had been chased a great distance for sure by the other agent, and he did not know where they had gone. All the time, it became harder and harder to breathe. Our team was being split up, and I felt we would not last long with obstacles at every turn and our predators breathing down our necks with every step.
We had no other choice but to follow through with the plan. As soon as we had hidden the evidence of our presence, (or, as much as possible,) Reht and I strolled back into public, and made our way towards the palace.
...Saturday, July 24, 2004 \\
Korind \\ 11:23 p.m.
"This way," rasped Vern as we looked down a branched street. We rushed through a few more side-paths, and then entered a wide alleyway. Vern peered into the next, larger road, and then flicked his head back towards us, scanning us with his edged glare. I watched his face pale.
“Where’s Voláris?” Our heads turned. A mortal silence filled the alley, until finally Dorian coughed and motioned backwards with his thumb.
“Lets go back.” Wordlessly we retraced our steps for several minutes until we reached a square with several sleeping guards inside it.
“I don’t remember a square,” said Reht.
“We’re lost,” I concurred. Vern groaned and rapped his fingers on the wall.
“Of course we’re lost.” Stepping back into another alley, we dropped onto the ground.
“What are we looking for anyway, besides Voláris?” asked Dorian. Vern stared at the ground. As he looked up, he relocated his gaze over our heads; over the rooftops. His eyes widened. The blackness that had been our protection was dying. Almost instantly the sky turned a shade of light blue, and before long the guards in the square began to converse. Vern swallowed.
“We’re looking for...” He glanced out into the square, then spun back.
“Reht!” Vern smiled. “It’s a
costume shop.” To my confusion, Reht grinned. With a quiet “We’re off– stay here” from Vern, the two brothers strolled off confidently into the square and disappeared into the shop opposite our alley. Dorian and I made eye contact with a mutual glance that said, “costume shop!?” After a few minutes of resting on the cold stone-paved floor, the brothers returned, Reht’s arms full of cloth.
“Did a little bit of shopping- got us some stuff.” Vern held up one of the bundles and unwrapped it. “We’ll be Farlian Lumberjacks from this hour forth!” He cackled loudly. Dorian squinted his eyes slightly.
“How might these help us?” he asked, pointing to what once unfolded, appeared to be a full body costume. Reht laughed. “We’ll draw less attention with these on... and to conceal our weapons–“ He held up a pair of trousers. “–Very baggy pants!” The younger brother laughed again, seeming overly happy with himself.
“But how did you buy these?” I asked, eyeing one of the extra-thick belts. Vern cackled louder, as if amused by my question. He glanced at Reht and brought his voice to a whisper.
“This little card here says that I’m a member of the
International Association of Drama! Which, (of course), entitles me to free costumes, as long as I return them within a year– something I always make sure I do.” He beamed. “How did I acquire such a relic? It’s a long story- belonged to my master’s daughter, but she left it around for a minute too long.” Vern threw a huge wink at Dorian, who seemed only half-impressed.
“How do these costumes show that we’re ‘Farlian lumberjacks?'” asked the archer. Vern smiled as he replied.
“First of all, we have these very thick belts, characteristic of lumberjacks, and also,” he opened a black box I only just noticed, “here we have some double-bladed axes. And yes- they are blunted.” Dorian smiled and sighed, beckoning for one of the bundles.
“Been a long time since I wielded an axe.”
...Monday, June 28, 2004 \\
Voláris \\ 12:03 p.m.
For a moment I stared through the open door into the city, wondering if it had
been some sort of trick. Could it really be that easy to get in? Vern's
unashamed cofidence reminded me that we were still relying on the curse of the
Beastmaster which, indeed, was one of few things that could render a great city so
unbelievably vulnerable.
Still...
"What now?" piped up Korind.
"As we planned." Vern grimaced. "I just realized that we don't know how much
longer the darkness will last. We'll have to move quickly."
We hurried through the city streets, glancing right and left at any trace of
movement behind the dark windows.
A soft glimmer to the left caught my eye. I turned to find an impressive array of
weapons displayed behind bars in the window of a large smithy. There were
several swords, two jeweled maces, a dragon shield, daggers made in different
styles,
a sword that looked just like my old one... I bent forward in
surprise. Even in the dark, it took me only a few seconds to realize that it
was my sword, complete with the elven markings and every dent and scar
it had received in my years of fighting.
It's mine. I unthinkingly stuck my
fingers through the bars, but to no avail. Looking away, I tried to think coherently.
There was no way we could buy back the sword. It wasn't the most expensive
item behind the bars, but it was still priced ten times more than what we could
afford even if we sold everything we had. And I couldn't just break into the
blacksmith.
Or... could I? The nearest house was just across the street. At the end
of the road, a guard was asleep at his post. I heard a dog yelping in the distance.
It would be rather risky... but wait. Korind! He knows some telekinesis,
doesn't he? He could... he--
Where is he? I couldn't hear any footsteps or voices -- the air was
completely still. I made my way to the end of the road and looked around. The
streets near the side entrance branched out into several more, every lane crowded
with buildings. I considered calling for them.
No... that wouldn't do. Eh, how
could they forget me? I slowly made my way back to the smithy, trying to
decide on what I should do next.
My solitude was shortlived. To my horror, the sky began to turn from black to
shades of pink and orange. In an unrrealistic amount of time, the stars
disappeared and the silence was replaced by the singing of birds. The sun could be
seen just above the horizon, and... the people were starting to move. Two young
children ran by, and a woman walked out of a house not far from me. The guard I
saw earlier was now polishing his spear. A bearded man gave me an odd look, then
walked into a clothes shop.
Clothes shop. I needed some degree of concealment. I hurried in after
the man, hoping that no one would address me. The shopkeeper smiled when I
entered. "Been a while since an elf crossed these parts. Something important
going on?"
I felt relieved -- so maybe not everyone on Farlia knew of us yet. "Nothing, just
visiting some friends." I pointed at a grey hooded cloak hung on the wall. "I don't
have money... will you accept a trade?" I brought out my dagger, which I had
decided I wouldn't need. For the first time since I acquired it, I was grateful for the
delicate engravings and the small gems along the hilt. After examining it, the
shopkeeper agreed.
"Whatcha trying to do... disguise yourself, y'elf?" A most ugly voice. I turned to
see the bearded man looking at me from the other side of the shop.
Ok, so
maybe some people did know of us. Well, I was ready.
...Friday, May 28, 2004 \\
Dorian \\ 05:53 p.m.
An eerie mystique permeated the dark night through which we walked. There was no sound but the occasional breeze; it seemed to me that our footsteps and breath would easily be heard for miles around. It was no help that the earth beneath our feet was composed entirely of stone mountains and rocky hills, rather than the gentle grassy rolls of the southern ranges. The smallest misstep would cause a tumble of pebbles that rattled through the atmosphere, each knock a signal to our location. There was no other noise. All creatures we passed were fast asleep, still in bondage to the night spell.
But I could hardly deny that I enjoyed it. Oh, that clear fresh air, that surpassed any spring or sea breeze I had ever felt! Without the distraction of steadily trudging through the valleys, I would have long ago laid down to sleep.
My mind was called away from its wanderings when I heard Korind's shouts amid a loud clashing of rocks. Looking back, I saw that he had rolled all the way back down the ditch we had just then finished climbing. Voláris slid down to help him out of the pile of stones, quietly scolding him as she excavated his staff. The brothers and I waited sleepily for them.
Vern spoke up when the elf and the mage finally scrambled back up the slope. "It will not gain us an advantage to remain quiet. Even the powerful Beastmaster could not hear us at this distance."
Korind immediately voiced his thoughts. "How does he know where we go?"
Both brothers stopped hiking and turned to face Korind. Their faces held a similar expression; as though they were surprised that Korind could be so ignorant and ask such a question.
"His beasts are his eyes and ears!" Vern exclaimed. "He cannot see what they see, or hear what they hear, but he feels their souls... or whatever is inside of them."
Reht tried to explain further. "They are as much parts of him as... as... as Dorian's cottage was a part of him."
The painful truth, from the mouths of escaped slaves. The Beastmaster was similar to me in at least one trait to which I was not hesitant to admit. One of the most basic of human characteristics, the need to create something lasting, feeling pain when it is destroyed...
"Beastmasters pay a high price to be so in tune with the world," Vern continued. "Their only bonds are between them and their beasts... who are in turn bound to the earth and air and water. Every other connection they make weakens their strength."
Again, Reht clarified to ease my lack of understanding. "Their armor is as much a part of the earth as these hills are. They do all the work to build their armor, from the ground up as it is said. It is rumored that a Beastmaster's armor is worth more than the rest of this world's riches. Supposedly, the armor dies with the Beastmaster, whatever fate may befall him."
By now we had come to the last of the foothills. The side gate into the city loomed ahead in the enormous wall. Guard towers lined the road between us and the gatehouse. Not a sound was heard, no orders for the pentad to stop, no quiet chatting between the guards.
"All asleep," Vern commented, once again directly addressing my worries. It unnerved me that he could do that. I felt as though I could hide nothing from him. Whether he read that feeling in me as well, is still a mystery to me.
After a long and suspenseful walk, we finally reached the side gate. From the hills it seemed to be just a door in a just-in-case wall. Now that we were near enough to reach out and feel the grain of the heavy wood, we realized that it was much more than that. The door itself was nearly the height of three men. The wall climbed well past that.
Voláris pushed the door open. Without a sound, the hinges swung easily inward, revealing a vast but midnight black alleyway. As I stepped through the doorway, I could barely help thinking...
Will it all have been in vain?
...Friday, May 7, 2004 \\
Korind \\ 07:46 p.m.
Dorian took a step towards the edge of the forest. He lifted his arm, palm out, towards the sound.
”Who..?” I heard him whisper faintly. His face turning pale. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of the archer’s face. And then- fell, instantly engulfed by the tall grass. Abruptly, a harsh shriek flew out, piercing my skull while being underlain by a low moan. And I watched, as if from far away, our small fivesome, an elf and four humans, rooted to the ground, with a horrific six-limbed beast approaching them- two massive mouths open with no sign of abating in their terrible discourse.
And then a falling sensation.
“Help,” I mouthed, as I reached out. Feeling nothing, I continued to fall, as I watched the six-limbed monster walking slowly forward, still crying out with its twin mouths. I saw Voláris unsheathe her weapon, but not before flying backwards as if struck by an invisible fist. The descending feeling grew more intense, and I was sure that any moment I would arrive in the underworld, never again to be retrieved.
But why can I still see them- or is it us?
And then- light. So much light. Brightness, reverberating from one of the human figures. As if in response, I could hear the monster howling louder. I wanted to cover my ears, but my arms hung lifeless.
Which one of us is doing that? Surely not me... Full of unbelief, I realized that the only figure moving, the one with the light– monster cringing, elf lying on the ground, archer, fighter, and mage stock-still– was Rhet.
How..? He stood with a deep scowl, drawing the back of his hand across his closed eyes. Suddenly, his left hand, like a knife, thrust out towards the creature. And then our friend’s voice sounded as usual- but louder.
“Now.”
As suddenly as the shrieking, the moaning, the light, and the falling sensation had begun, they ceased, with startling abruptness. I felt as if I had slammed into the ground, while my vision slowly traveled towards a prostrate Korind, and, after lingering overhead the figures below, dropped, entering the lifeless body.
I opened my eyes, staring up into the moonlight. In a giddy energetic state, I leapt to my feet and looked around. One quick glance sufficed to depict my surroundings. A six-limbed skeleton lying in the grass, rapidly decaying. Vern, lifting Voláris to her feet, and Dorian, and... Reht. He sat, propped up against a thin tree, chest heaving, and eyes gazing arbitrarily upwards. I felt Dorian’s hand on my shoulder.
“We had better get moving,” he said. Voláris cleared her throat.
“Let us go- we can talk on the way.” I nodded, and we all fell into our small formation. In the distance, the rays of the sun seemed to return, prying into the dark mountains, far away. After a moment of silently hiking towards the city, Reht sniffed. Our pace stayed the same, but subconsciously, four heads turned towards him in quiet unison. He stared straight ahead, and began talking.
“So now you’ve seen what can happen...” Reht gestured half-heartedly in the direction of the sea.
“In a way, Korind, you were half right- about that ‘defeating him with love’ stuff- old-fashioned as it sounds. In this case, that beast of darkness was destroyed by light. Illuminance is an old art, one almost priestly in nature.” He glanced back at me.
“It’s uses are difficult to understand, and very difficult to apply, but I was able to do...” He sniffed again. “
Something back there. Satisfied?” Rhet threw a glare back to the rest of us.
I had little doubt that we weren’t, but I found myself nodding. Voláris was staring off into the distance in a queer, quizzical way, while Dorian’s mouth twitched, as if searching for words to suit the moment.
“I had little idea you knew so much of that art, brother.” Vern laughed quietly. Reht walked faster, looking away.
“Are you a priest?” I blurted. Reht glanced at me again, and shook his head. He bit his lip, and replied, “I don’t actually know that much- so... I’m not quite sure how I did that.” Reht whispered the last part, but we all heard him clearly.
“Can you heal?” Voláris verbalized this thought hastily, pointing at him. Reht’s reply silenced us all.
“Sort of.” He pointed back to Voláris and muttered, “Well... can you? So there.”
...Saturday, April 24, 2004 \\
Voláris \\ 03:24 p.m.
In the great darkness, my thoughts turned from our journey to the sword I had lost. I could hardly bear to recall the one who gave it to me, but soon I could think of nothing else. For a long time, he had been the youngest of us, an oblivious child; an orphan--one of the unnamed ones, who rarely spoke. There was not much special about him, and we often chided him for having nothing to say. Aloden would remind us of his high-standing lineage in the old elven communities. But no, the boy would have to prove his own worth for himself.
And he never really did. His one accomplishment was a single sword he crafted over a period of several years as he aged among a neutral sect of elves. Did he even have a purpose for it? Yet to this day, I supposed, none would forget the one battle he did fight in, and what happened afterwards.
“Take a look at that,” said Vern suddenly, “We’re at the city, at last.” Far into the distance, across a few fields, I could make out a great, stone wall amidst the mountains with several towers above it. Against the stars, it hardly looked ominous, but I had to admit that it seemed difficult to assault.
“Perhaps we should approach it from the side,” said Dorian. “We’d be kind of conspicuous walking straight down this road and through the front gate.”
“That would be good,” I said, “But we should keep terrain in mind. There are many ways they could overcome us.” To the right lay the blackness of a heavily forested area overlooking the sea, and to the left rose a series of mountains and valleys, barely noticeable in the dark. A grand dock with all kinds of ships nearly covered the entirety of the city coastline.
“Shouldn’t it be morning soon?” Korind broke in. “How long will the Beastmaster’s spell be?”
“Depends on his power,” said Vern. “It’s hard to tell. But speaking of the Beastmaster, has anyone heard from him lately?”
We stood still, listening for a moment. Nothing.
“I hate this feeling of being followed in the dark,” said Reht.
“Maybe we’ve lost him,” suggested Korind.
Vern laughed. “I bet he’s hiding behind that huge bush-thing right over there, ready to pounce on us the second we turn around and start walking again. In fact, was that a rustle I just heard?”
“Let us leave this place,” gasped Korind.
”Don’t be a fool, Vern,” I said.
“Now, we do have a slight advantage in that we did not sleep for long under the spell,” said Dorian. “If he was counting on that, it is possible that we have lost him... though, considering our luck so far, it is unlikely. I say we keep on going for now.”
“Can’t we go into the trees and get some rest?” asked Reht. “I don’t think I could take much more of this walking all day and night.”
“It is not the time for rest, nor for getting lost in woods,” I said. Being able to see the King’s city, even from so far away, gave me some new sort of strength, and I longed to be within its walls and finally completing our quest. If only I had my old sword! I would face any creature, if only I could just touch the hilt once again.
Our pace began to slow, for the truth was that we were all in some way tired. The night seemed to darken, if that was possible. Somewhere during that time, Vern stopped.
“I hear something,” he whispered.
I could make out a low moaning coming from within the trees on our right side.
“Maybe someone needs help,” said Korind.
“Maybe it’s a trap,” scowled Reht.
“But is it worth finding out?” asked Vern.
...Friday, April 2, 2004 \\
Dorian \\ 02:03 a.m.
I saw it, and never expected to see such a sight again.
Towards our hill flew a dragon, bright and beautiful, shimmering in the rays of a sunset though it was just past midday. In front of him, the blue sky remained, and sunlight gleamed from the summer leaves; behind, stars shone down on a nocturnal forest. For a few, brief moments, the mage, the elf, the old woman, the brothers, and each archer was caught in awe at such resplendance, the thought of firing our arrows never crossing our minds. It was as though the horizon had rushed to meet us, bringing the entire day with it... As the endless wings crossed in front of the sun, all went black...
And then I woke up.
A dream? When did we stop?
"It was not a dream," Voláris snapped, shaking the other archers awake tirelessly. A horseman fell off his horse, and jumped up immediately, though groggily.
"Wake up your companions!" Voláris hissed at him, in such a manner that he did not question, but obeyed with haste.
Lonae stood slowly, but without noise. "What is this, waking us at midnight, and with such fervor! Are you mad?"
Voláris growled, "have you forgotten already? The Beastmaster's dragon has cast an illusion over this land. It has been just a few minutes since his howl called the monster to this place, and he will surely be coming, expecting us asleep and helpless!"
In ten more seconds, all the other travellers were awake. Lonae would not stop her speech. She seemed as though she would cry easily. "Why did you not tell us such a man was searching for you? Have you no regard for the safety of others? Leave us!"
Vern turned straightaway and lifted his dropped sword from the ground. While he grumbled, "no man is like that," Lonae nearly sobbed her plan to her bodyguards. They would proceed to the palace and warn Eraajian of this evil creature, if the King was not already alerted. Meanwhile, I took an arrow and nocked it, rushing to catch up with Vern and Voláris. Korind and Reht were already with them.
"What do you mean," I asked Vern, "by saying the Beastmaster is not a man? I had thought..."
"Thinking does no good now. The Beastmaster was once a man, but now he is no more, only a shell glued together by hate."
I said nothing. Where did a man like Vern learn so much? Lord Yerna kept a large collection of writings, ancient and detailed, the rarest in the known world. But I had read nothing about Beastmasters in all my years of study. Even Master Volo, my tutor, who was knowledgeable in all manners of lore, did not tell me of these things.
"I wonder if we could defeat him with... love..." Korind mumbled, "I mean, if water can put out a fire, why wouldn't love destroy hate?"
Voláris shook her head. "I know of no way to defend against such power, but if we are to have any hope, we must find my old sword." She held up the sword that Raym had given her. Large slots broke the continuity of the blade; what was left looked like wood, for all the dents and scratches in it. "This one will not do. My sword holds great power, a gift from a powerful elf I once knew..." She appeared to consider tossing the sword aside, but thought better of it, and resheathed it instead.
There was silence for a short while. "Vern, lead us west!"
...Saturday, March 27, 2004 \\
Korind \\ 10:20 p.m.
Lonae chose a snail’s pace which made me feel sick. It seemed that we would have made better time if I had dragged her to the city by her ankles.
“Lonae?” I asked. The woman barely tilted her head in my direction before snapping,
You, little one, may address me as the Lady Sharbim.” I stepped backwards a foot, and thought better of saying anything else. “Shaaarbimarbimarbimarbim.... Sharbim!” I thought to myself. Painfully, I fought down a host of laughter that was charging up my throat. It wouldn’t do to draw attention to myself.
Arbiiim. Hee. The silence was too much to bear. Before I knew what was happening, my mouth was open:
“Lon- Sharbim? How old are you?” I smiled before realizing my stupidity. I winced. For a moment Lonae showed no response, until she instantly spun around and threw me a scowl that I easily felt the weight of. I looked down at Dorian’s tanned ankles, which were walking a pace ahead of mine. Someone behind me coughed. Was it Reht? He had been behind me earlier. Looking around, I started, seeing a gigantic horse’s head level with mine. I stepped backward a step. The monstrous sight shrunk as I stepped back. The horse’s sneering rider waved a thin metal rod at me and coughed again. It was a thick cough that made me feel unclean. I quickened my step so I could walk by Dorian. I gritted my teeth and breathed deeply.
“Dorian?” I began. He immediately held up a finger and then, more slowly, blinked, and mouthed, “Wait.” Wiping a wrinkle out of his shirt, he fixed his eyes on Vern’s back, who was a little bit ahead of us all. Why Vern? After fixing my own eyes on the grey tunic for some time, it dawned on me that there was nothing to see. There. Vern moved over to the right, and Dorian’s eyes were still focused on the same place, now a tuft of grass which we were steadily nearing. So he wasn’t staring at anything in particular. Bo-ring.
I poked Dorian slowly and opened my mouth when an echoing scream met my ears. The score of heads in our party snapped quickly behind us, looking... looking. The scream was low and unnatural, flowing to our ears from a large expanse of hills and tussocks of forest. The knowledge of our massive distance from the ocean came unexpectedly. Even at our slow rate, we had managed to go a long way. And to my horror, there was nothing in sight to trace the scream. I shuddered.
He could be any one of those specks out there. Reht grabbed my shoulder, gasping the obvious into my ear.
“It’s the Beastmaster!”
He swallowed, and then stated something slightly less obvious:
“He’s going to kill us!”
I grunted tiredly. Everyone had stopped, and had become silent. We all stared in the direction of the scream. I stepped backwards, closer to where Voláris was standing.
“Draw more attention to yourself and we’ll never get out of here.” I peered up at her. Her eyes were looking straight ahead, the expressionless face still.
What? Voláris glanced at me. She bared her teeth, signaling “shh.” I gulped, and turned back in the same direction as the rest of the party. After a few silent moments, Lonae waved her arms in the air and hoarsely cried out, “Continue!”
And all at once we turned around and carried on with the slow march. I watched Lonae. If she was trying to look confident, she needed more practice. Looking to the side, the woman took a few shuffling steps over to Voláris and reached out to her shoulder. The elf leapt to the side with instinctive spryness, and snapped her head to face Lonae. The old woman muttered a question through her teeth and looked up in the air, scratching her arm. Voláris closed her eyes and moved her mouth, saying something which made Lonae jump. The elf moved a little more to the right, and shot Vern a look, who nodded sagely.
Why do they always have to nod sagely?
I was beginning to get the feeling that I was being left out of something. Dorian was now farther ahead. He had run up in front of us, up the hill that towered over us. I stopped and watched him. Upon reaching the top, he looked into the distance over our heads and chewed on his lip. Running down, he held up his hands to us. We all stopped as he strung his bow. And as if by instinct, the other men did the same. I felt like plugging my ears as we all stood, looking about in different directions, silently awaiting the inevitable.
A terrible beast? The Beastmaster himself? Or something else that had been spotted, better, or worse? And then it came- for all our preparation, we were not ready.
...Thursday, March 18, 2004 \\
Voláris \\ 01:02 a.m.
“The elves may perish, but our hope does not,” I said.
“Perhaps.”
“Are you sure about going east, Vern?” inquired Dorian. “We’d be a bit more off course than we are now.”
“Once we get there, we’ll have a good path to the Throne’s city,” claimed Vern. “There are less soldiers along that coast and we might find that it would be safer, if not faster. Besides, what other options have we?”
Unspoken but reluctant agreement ensued.
By the time we reached the cliffs overlooking the sea, our energy was gone and we could do little more than sit down along the edge, feeling the spray of the sea sting our faces. “I remember these cliffs well,” I said after a moment of silence. I could see myself standing erect near the edge, years ago, taking my oaths before I walked further into the new land. The grass seemed sparser now.
“I also have been at this coast before. I think it was at the time I was nearing adulthood,” said Vern. “My master used to travel across this sea once in a while. He would bring some of us.”
“Master?” questioned Korind.
“Not everyone on Farlia was born free.”
“So they’re after you, whether or not you join us?” said Dorian.
“Beaten to death one way, publicly executed the other.”
“I see.”
Vern smirked. “But they can’t catch us. They never shall.”
Before I could question such an audacious statement, Dorian noted, “Well, it’s good to be optimistic. Though I think we had better get moving. I can almost
smell the Beastmaster coming this way.”
Korind tittered. “Smells about right!”
“I’m tired,” said Reht. “I say we take a break before moving on.”
“If you’re tired,” said Dorian, “I don’t think you’d stand a chance against the Beastmaster once he finds you here.”
With a scowl, Reht lagged behind our party as we moved along the cliffs, each lost in his own thoughts. After some time, I noticed a new look of leadership on Dorian’s face that had never been there before. Was it due to his sudden knowledge of Vern’s inferior birth? As he turned to survey the group, his blue eyes flickered past me and onto the horizon.
“I see some people coming,” he said in a low but unfaltering voice. “They seem to be armed, so we will stand here and await them.”
“For what purpose?” asked Vern. “You fear them fighting us before they know who we are, and not after?”
“Quiet down,” Dorian snapped. “We will draw more attention trying to evade them. They are trying to catch up to us, can’t you see?”
As he said, the group of a dozen or so men and a single, elderly woman drew near us; some were on horses, and others wielded long bows. The woman, who was attired like a servant, walked forward with the dignity of a queen.
“And whom do we have the pleasure of meeting?” she asked politely, but without any trace of a smile on her white face.
Feeling a growing silence from my side, I spoke. “I am Voláris, and these are my friends.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“We are headed for the King’s city,” I said, starting to feel annoyed at her questioning. “And who are you?”
“You may call me Lonae.”
“And?”
“I also am traveling to see the Lord Eraajian, as a matter of fact. We would not mind your company.”
“Thank you, but we would rather travel alone,” I said automatically.
Lonae narrowed her eyes. “And for what reason would a strange little party like yours wish to travel alone? Nonsense. We shall go to the city together.” Korind emitted a barely audible groan which spoke for all of us, and we very uncomfortably joined Lonae’s group.
Such things we must endure to stay inconspicuous, I thought in anguish.
But it shouldn’t be too long now...
...Monday, December 1, 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 11:26 a.m.
For all his caution in battle, Vern didn't seem to realize the importance of remaining hidden even when we weren't fighting. The fourth day after we met him, we found ourselves in the one place that both Voláris and I had feared visiting: A musty, loud, cramped tavern, surrounded by bellowing drunkards singing badly off tune. My dragon-knife lay hidden under both my cloaks, and I kept my hand near it at all times. Voláris couldn't relax, though. She made it clear that she was armed, and was ready to draw her sword at any time. She even began to once or twice, when a small scuffle broke out, or a dangerous-looking man passed by. I leaned over to whisper in Voláris' ear.
"If we have to fight, do not draw your sword. In this space you're likely to hit anybody, and we need your skill to remain hidden, regardless."
Voláris nodded, and said, "I know."
Just then, Vern, Reht, and Korind burst noisily through the door, back from their shopping spree. All three were laughing at some joke, but they walked straight on through to the inn without even seeing me or Voláris. I could hear their laughter all the way down the hall, even over the ruckus in the bar-room. They almost sounded drunk themselves.
As I sat sipping some light form of brew at the bar, a small wadded note landed in front of me. I tried to look around inconspicously for the sender, but found no-one that I recognized, except Voláris, watching from our table in the corner. The note was short and simple.
Treacherous here. Watch out.
When the tavern began clearing out, Voláris and I decided to head towards our room. I knocked on Vern's door first, though, to check on them.
No answer.
Voláris' ear twitched as she stopped in the middle of unlocking our door. She pressed the side of her head against Vern's door briefly, then mouthed, "go in, carefully." As swiftly as possible, I flung open the door... Or, tried to, the latch was engaged, so I bounded off the opposing wall and threw myself through the door with a crash, drawing my knife as soon as I was in. A huge sword came down at my head, missing by a hair's breadth as I rolled to my feet and delivered my counterstrike. My blade chipped against the assailant's side.
"Korind!" I shouted, hoping he would translate it as "grab your staff and create some sort of fireball to throw at this guy." I couldn't say so much, though, as I was thoroughly occupied in the act of blocking and dodging. The scuffle seemed to last forever. Once Voláris had finished slotting her sword on armor, she sawed our friends free and Korind immediately went for his rod. It was glowing fiercer than any other magic staff I had ever seen. Even the court magicians in the palace couldn't rival that light.
"Down!" Korind cried, thrusting his staff forward.
And the fireplace exploded. That works, I thought. But the huge shadow in the center of the blaze lunged towards Korind, who jumped back in surprise.
Vern tackled the giant as Korind squirted out of the corner. "Get out of here!" he shouted. Voláris was the first to turn and run. But Reht would not move. I couldn't even drag him out.
"Leave me!" he yelled, punching me painfully in the ribs, "I'm not leaving without him!" Then he turned and jumped on the pile of flesh on the floor and fought with all his might.
So I ran. I ran out the back door that still hung open from Korind's fleeing. I ran until I found him and Voláris in a small secluded ravine just out of sight of the inn.
"He is a fool, for staying... But an honorable fool." Voláris seemed lost in thought, peering over the grass at the building we had left, now just a bright blaze.
Then, just as earlier, sounds jerked her away from watching the lodge burn, and she scrambled with her elven grace out of the end of the ditch.
What is that? A strange smell blew from the direction Voláris was watching. I had smelled it before, just a few days ago, while hunting. It was like strong earth, combined with sickeningly sweet deer pelts.
While I was trying blow the odor out of my nose, Voláris was conversing quietly with somebody... No, two people. Vern's voice!
"How in the world did you stop him!" I nearly shouted, grinning hugely to see the brothers intact.
"I managed to get his helm off of him, and crushed it. Beastmasters will go nowhere without their armor in good condition."
"Beastmaster!" Korind exclaimed.
"I don't suppose it was his beast that Dorian found in the woods?" Voláris' face was neutral.
Slowly nodding, I snorted again. "Smells like it."
"I've never understood why their armor is so important to them," Reht spoke up, "even without it, to stop a Beastmaster would take power not seen since the war with Magus Potlema, and that was nearly all the magic that those first elves could gather."
"Right! I remember that!" Korind exclaimed. "Well, not the battle, but reading about it I mean."
Vern grunted. "Anyway, we know that we cannot defeat him on our own. I suggest we move to the Eastern Sea-cliffs."
"To what purpose?" Voláris scoffed. "If he is a Beastmaster, as you say, then we will never escape."
"No, but the ocean is large, and we might be able to delay him long enough that our trail will be difficult to follow. In the meantime, we might get to Eraajian." He turned and began walking, watching the stars for guidance. "Ah, when did the Elves' hope become so weak?"
...Saturday, November 29, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 11:56 a.m.
“So which way do we go now?” I asked as we came to a small clearing in the woods. Dorian’s nostrils flared. “This way,” he said, pausing as he motioned ahead of us. He peered at me through the corner of his eye. “It smells about right.” Grinning, I let loose a flurry of giggles through my teeth. “That’s a good one!” I laughed, pointing at Dorian and squinting my eyes happily. “Ah, haha, smells… about…right?” I looked up at a serious faced Dorian. Once again, my mouth had proved my ignorance, but the archer dismissed it with a deep breath and a wave.
Putting on a solemn face, I sniffed twice, and marched on after Dorian, who had already begun moving. After walking around another mile Dorian spun around and held up his hand. Holding my breath, I stared at where Dorian’s finger pointed. Seeing nothing, I glanced back at him, but his bowstring had been pulled back already. Easing myself out of the way, I heard a small
twiff and then a thud. Grinning widely, Dorian stood up from his crouched position. Stepping forward, we examined the battle spoils. At our feet lay a…
“Dorian?” I asked, with my eyes wide.
His eyes were closed. Opening them slowly, he whispered to me in a low voice. “It’s a freak.” The twisted being on the floor, now with an arrow shaft in its back, stirred. The… freak reminded me of a starved dog, except with eight legs and a beak. As we backed away slowly, the freak arose and focused its tiny black eyes on us. Panicking, I lifted my staff and cried “Die, freak!” and swung my staff forward. The thing flew backwards with a hideous scream. Running forward, Dorian and I examined the product a second time. The charred remains lay on the ground in a heap, this time unmoving.
Dorian sighed, looking down. “Freaks?” I asked. Dorian nodded. He gazed into the air. “I didn’t know that anyone could still make them…”
“Make?”
“Twisted creatures are made by twisted people… but I always thought this a lost art…” Dorian paused, clearing his throat. “A lost evil.”
“What do we do now?” I hastened, putting my hands on his shoulders. Sighing again, Dorian put his hands on mine. “If the freak hadn’t been eradicated, we would attempt to figure out who made it. But it has- and for the good,” he added. “Sorry?” I queried. Dorian shook his head. “Just don’t do that to our other kills until you know that its freak and not food.” I grinned. “Sure thing.”
Returning back to camp with a trio of small hares hung by their ears and slung over my back; I plopped down on a log next to Vern. He and Voláris were sitting quietly. “Anything wrong?” I asked. Vern looked in my direction calmly. “Nothing, except for the fact that we’re all deathly hungry.” Reht sat up from lying on a blanket. “And we have been feeling so for several hours, so do hurry!” he ordered, throwing his hands up in the air. Voláris sighed, throwing an irritated look at the reclining Reht. “Two hours,” she corrected.
I let out a small cough. Vern stood up, saying “Where’s Dorian, anyway?” Standing up also, I looked back at the edge of the clearing we were in. “He…” My voice trailed off. Dorian appeared from among the bushes with a slight rustle and a large elk on his shoulder. I beamed and directed with both hands to the bowman with a bow. “Behold.” Dorian smiled tiredly, throwing the animal on the floor. “Next time you carry, Korind.”
Hurriedly putting out the fire with an old rag, we sat down to enjoy the hot meal that we only got every so often. Reht was smiling largely as he devoured his portion. Looking up with half his meal in his mouth, he asked, “What’s this seasoned with anyway?” I fluttered my fingers about in the air with a leering grin. “Magic...” I breathed. Reht jumped back from the food, revolted. Laughing, Dorian and I glanced at each other. With an abrupt pause of all noise but the quiet chewing of Vern and Voláris, Dorian stood up. “I don’t
ever let Korind near my cookery.” He grinned again at the scowling Reht before sitting down and cuffing my shoulder softly.
As we contentedly buried all traces of our existence and wrapped the extra food in leather and large leaves, Dorian looked at Voláris. “I guess it’s time to be on the move again.”
Voláris nodded. “We’ve already wasted a lot of time.” Reht leaned on a large tree, bewildered. “But… that was only a half-hour meal!”
”A half-hour!” scoffed Voláris. “I believe that’s the longest we’ve ever taken.”
...Wednesday, November 19, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 01:30 a.m.
“Join us, please,” laughed Dorian. “We’ll need fighting power like yours.”
Vern nodded. “I’ll do anything to avenge my village. For now, though, lets get out of this place--the guard will know about this soon.”
We paused in a clearing in the woods, where Dorian dropped the packs he carried and began to make a fire.
“So you camp out here, like outlaws?” said Vern.
“What are we, if not outlaws?” Dorian mused. “But I
would enjoy lodging in some inn for once.”
Reht stared at the forest floor, horrified. “We’ll be living out here until we beat Eraajian?”
Dorian grinned. “Don’t tell me you’re too delicate for that.”
The boy turned away with a huff.
“He’ll be fine,” said Vern. “He adjusts quick if he has to. Though... I’d think some of the villages bordering the eastern shore wouldn’t have heard of you yet.”
“I suppose with all the soldiers making their daily rounds through these woods, it’d be hardly more dangerous to make a stop there, for supplies at least. What do you think, Voláris?”
“I don’t like the idea,” I said quickly. The thought of having to stay a night in a tavern full of humans disturbed me, as did going off course.
“Something wrong, Vol?”
I shook my head. “We don’t have reason enough to risk it, seeing as you can hunt now.”
“That’s right. Thanks to Vern,” said Dorian as he drew his new bow, “We’ll have fresh venison tonight! Ah, we’ll talk more of this business later. Come with me, Korind,” he said as the young mage looked up hopefully. “I’ll show you how it’s done. Would you like to come as well, Reht?”
Reht shrunk back with a faint “No.”
“Alright, then,” said Dorian, unfazed. “See you all later.”
After Dorian and Korind left, I motioned for Vern to come over from where he sat, tending to the fire.
“Right. What exactly are your motives for joining us?” I asked.
He smiled. “They say an elf lives long enough to learn to trust no one. Elves, I like... one never sees them here in Farlia. I mean no harm,” he said when I shifted uncomfortably, “and I have nothing to hide. I do want to avenge my people, like you. There
are some minor reasons, but I’m sure all of us, even an elven lady like yourself would have them too.”
“We’re discussing you, not me.”
Vern nodded leisurely. “Yes, yes. Well, it’s true. I have nothing to hide.”
There was a brief silence as he eased himself onto a log nearby. I declined the invitation to sit with him. With a nod, he began.
“I was born a servant. I’ve been working for others my whole life, really. I doubt you know what that’s like.”
He paused.
“I didn’t have much of a family, actually. Just Reht, and, I am told, a father living far away. Also my uncle, who taught me how to fight. He gave me this sword-“ Vern unsheathed his long sword and showed me the inscription that had been engraved onto the blade- “In one of the old tongues it says ‘peace.’ Anyways, I’ve spent my whole life working for others, and I’m looking forward to living for myself and being able to chose my own path now, even if I die. You know what I mean?”
“So you are here to be able to fight.”
“Well that’s not all. Quite a while ago my uncle gave me the idea that I could overthrow Eraajian if I really tried. We had hated him ever since he sent his men into our town. They were everywhere; searching through our most personal belongings, stopping us from doing this or that, making new rules none of us had ever agreed to. Do you realize the man is a tyrant?”
“Yes... but I would say he is much more than that.”
“A tyrant, and one breaking every tradition of the kings,” exclaimed Vern. “Yet... I suppose I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my need to just get out and live for myself.” His face darkened. “My master wouldn’t have liked this. But he is my master no longer.”
“What of your uncle, who, I presume, has been enslaved by the guard?” I questioned.
“Indeed. But I’d think he would be able to cause more trouble to the throne than any one of us. He has been taught as one of the old warriors, as I have, but when he fights he has an unnatural strength I can’t explain.”
“I’d like to meet such a man.”
“You might.”
...October 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 11:59 p.m.
Cracksh...
I turned around, knowing what had happened. Sprinting back (with much ducking and hopping) I found Korind laying under the now downed branch, motionless. I began moving the branch off of him...
"There it is again."
I froze at the whisper. Instinctually, I crouched as low as I could without making a sound. My hand automatically went to the hilt of my dagger, which still felt to my hand strange and native at the same time. I began trying to envision what the person on the other side of the false wall would be doing. It seemed clear that they were armed, possibly warriors of some sort. But too cautious to be the normal rabble of Royal soldiers.
My thoughts were interrupted when a sword swung through the wall, followed by a slim man, obviously off balance. In the small space, he tripped over me and Korind, but caught himself against the real wall on our other side. Korind sat up through the leaves slowly, rubbing his forehead with a groggy look. After a glance at me, and a stare at the other man (who had frozen in place glaring at me), he lay down again.
Then, the man spoke. "Who are you?" he asked, pushing off the wall and sheathing his sword. I also stood, and continued freeing Korind.
"It may not be in my best interests to have my name known here," I replied.
Korind spoke up then. "Dorian, I'm sorry I didn't listen, about the branch and all. And that I fell behind. I was thinking."
So much for anonymity...
"I only have one question," the slim man said quietly. "What purpose do you have for causing so much trouble to the Guard?"
"If it's not obvious already, then I will not bother telling you." I pulled Korind away by his shoulder, keeping him close. Behind me, I heard the slim man breathe "Reht!" and begin jogging after us. "If you are going to see Eraajian," he called after us, "then let us accompany you."
"Accompany us?" Volàris said quietly, questioningly. Her eyebrow sat cocked, similar to mine. "For what reason?" The man bent his right arm backwards with a crack. "First of all, I'm Vern. The Guard enslaved my town. My family is in prison. Except Reht of course; he's my brother." Vern, the slim man, motioned to the kid next to him, who still hadn't said anything, but stood there with a sad frown.
Volàris eyed Reht. "Can he fight?" Vern shook his head. "Teach him. He will need it." I only nodded.
"I wanted to learn anyway..." Reht grumbled, after I had turned again and followed Volàris. Footfalls behind us signaled that Vern and Rhet were coming also.
Just after sunset, we heard the sounds of the first outpost a ways off to our right. "I'll be right back," Vern stated, before dashing off into the darkness. Reht stayed with us, still talking to Korind. Taking Kor's staff as light, Volàris opened the map and began her battle plans. "You can't burn this one, Kor'."
Barely more than a small box on the map, the outpost looked difficult to sneak up on. The only trees near to it were several yards too far north, and the encampment was built at the very top of a hill. Glimpses of the complex through the foliage revealed that it had real buildings, not just tents, and there were two concentric walls. The easiest way in would be to destroy everything in our way. But we needed anything we could get from inside.
"We should be able to get inside through the back door, if there is one. If not, one of us could cause a distraction while the other... Yes, there is the catch, we still have no other way in. Unless you can climb the high wall or open the gate, from the outside, by yourself."
"Sounds pretty hopeless," I said, staring out between leaves at the torchlight emanating from the fortress. The central motte looked hauntingly precarious, jutting up from the hilltop like a thorn. Behind the walls, soldiers milled about on the steep slope quite visibly, patrolling or joking or carrying crates of food. At a distance, it was easy to envision them as worker ants, carrying out their duties to protect their king, in order to further their kind along the path of conquest. I realized with a chuckle that it did not seem so small in the heat of battle as it did when I could observe safely.
Volàris heard my laugh and also began watching the seemingly silent movement ahead in thought. We both noticed that the soldiers were generally moving towards our side of the wall, but only after one had run to the motte and sounded a horn. With a mere glance at me, Volàris took off in a dead sprint towards the outpost. "Stay here," I breathed to Korind, and chased after Volàris.
With barely noticeable hesitation, Volàris took a flying leap to the top of the wall, and hauled herself over. I followed on her heels, almost close enough to be kicked. We were met by silence, and the smell of death, on the other side. Then, the inner gate swung open, and a lone figure strolled out at a brisk pace. "Guys," said the voice of Vern, "look what I found!" Volàris drew her dagger. I drew my dagger. Neither of us felt very comfortable with this so far.
Vern dropped the pack he had been carrying on the ground. Volàris didn't move, but I bent over and began rummaging through it. More food, some blankets... a bow! I drew it back, feeling the power. Also inside were some arrows.
"The wanted posters I had seen you on listed you as an archer, but you didn't have a bow, so I thought you might like this."
Volàris walked over to the gate (one hand on her shoulder, apparently having hurt it vaulting over the wall) and peered in. Her eyes grew very large. "Vern, did you do all that?" I stepped beside her, and my eyes became as big as Vol's had. Dead soldiers were distributed randomly between the entrance to the motte and the wall, and there was a large pile of them at one point. None left alive, all slain... and so quickly, too.
"I can't do this every time, you know." Vern said, heaving the pack over his shoulder. "It's very taxing."
...October 2003, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 11:58 p.m.
This night excluded the luxury of being able to capture my customary forty winks. In response to a boot on my chest efficiently quelling my breath, I slowly opened my left eye. Both eyes instantly clicked open as the last of my air was expelled out of my lungs.
”I live,” I stated quickly. Voláris straightened up as I inhaled. “We’re late,” she announced, pulling me up quickly. “Late?” I muttered. In any case, I had little time to complain, for Dorian had plunked in my hands a dry pelt pocket with drier meat in it. “Let me guess,” I alleged between a couple bites. “You’ve already eaten.” Voláris did not move from staring at the sunrise with a hand on her injured shoulder. Dorian nodded slowly, wiping his hands on a tattered rag. “You’re eating on the hike.” He smiled.
While I was gathering up my things, Dorian explained his plans to us. “Here,” he said, pointing to the map, “Are the outposts that are on the way to the castle, so…” he paused, stroking his lower lip. “We’ll have to go this way.” He pointed to a thin system of gray lines. Voláris turned and stared at the atlas. “It looks like the gray lines are byways… like that one.” She pointed to the wall of foliage on the right.
“Byway?” I asked, several doubts suddenly clouding my better judgment. Dorian raised his eyebrows, waiting for Voláris’ answer. Grabbing my staff, she poked a sector of the thick shrubbery. She quickly smiled and threw herself through the wall. Dorian and I cried out in unison, because she was suddenly hidden from our view. Poking her head out of the leaves, she grinned. “Illusions at their best. These are false walls… the elders’ spoke of them often.” Her face grew solemn. Dorian closed his mouth and reached out to touch the “foliage”.
”What’s it feel like?” I whispered. Dorian’s eyes grew very large. His left eyebrow twitched. “It feels like…” I leaned forward. “Nothing,” Voláris concluded from the other side of the wall, “I’ll explain more on the way.” I strapped on my things and slowly eased towards the false wall… only to be hastily grabbed by Voláris from the other side and yanked through it. “We haven’t much time,” she said, her face a few inches away from mine. “Let’s go!” whispered Dorian, and once again we progressed forward to our destination.
The path was well lit, which was strange: the byway being very narrow and surrounded by sheer walls of trees and vegetation on both sides. As we hiked, I observed my two friends. Voláris rarely said anything, her face almost always a picture of definite resoluteness.
I suppose that’s what makes her very few words all the more valuable… Dorian walked at a steady pace, broken only when he hopped over a fallen tree or high root. With each bound he would also caution in an undertone back to me. “Korind, log,” or “Korind, root.” I smiled. His wise advice had saved my knees from many scars.
Looking up at the cloudless sky I remembered an old fable my granduncle. It was said that in the most quiet times that-
“Korind, branch.”
Korind, branch? I looked around. Dorian’s voice had sounded very far off.
Where are they...? I ran down the path. “Dorian!” I yelled. I ran faster. Soon I saw them not far off. Dorian turned and waved. But before I could wave back, I had sprinted into a low hanging tree limb.
That branch… The light of day receded, and the neutral colors swirled into dimness.
...Tuesday, September 30, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 11:39 a.m.
The rain increased, beating random patterns into the dirt which darkened until they were blotted away from memory. Though the sky remained pale, I knew that twilight would soon appear from behind the thick ashen clouds. I drew the piece of parchment out of my bag and unfolded it--the map had been painstakingly made, with careful lines and lettering, and small drawings of flowers and birds embellishing the sides.
Yet so much is to come, I thought, hurriedly putting it away.
"Dorian? I'm feeling much better. Let's go to where he'd find us."
"On the road then," he sighed. "You sure you're ok?"
"I'm fine."
As we walked out from the shelter of the woods, however, I found that I had had not yet regained my strength. The rain, something I could always endure, sent claws of frigidity into my wound and down my back. I quickened my pace in silent frustration.
It wasn't long before I saw a dim glow through the storm, and before I knew it, Korind was sloshing over to us with a ridiculous smile on his face. In his hand he held a staff of scarlet colored wood which shone fiercely in the darkness. "Am I glad to see you guys again! And look what I've got," he exclaimed as he handed over the staff.
"Good to have you back, Korind," I said as I took the staff. Dorian smiled. "We are more than glad to see you, alive and with a weapon. How could you desert us like that?"
"I stopped in the woods a bit, and you guys just left without me!" said Korind. "But it's ok, because I found a weird old magician living in these woods, and that's where I got the staff--I had to burn his house down and everything to get it though…Say, what happened to your shoulder, Voláris?"
"Ah, let's get out of this rain!" said Dorian as he helped me back under the trees. "Voláris was wounded in a fight we had with some soldiers--it was a harsh but we do have a map now."
We sat down underneath the tall canopy of foliage in thick darkness. "I'll make a fire," Korind eagerly volunteered. With a few words he created a sprightly flame which lit up the floor of the woods and the trunks of the trees around us. "Ah, I like this new staff," he said. I brought out the map and carefully laid it on the ground. "Blood stains all over!" the mage blurted out. I nearly laughed, but Dorian said, "Indeed. No small price was paid for this." He pointed at a small square near the top of the map. "That must be the castle we're looking for—it's labeled
Eraajian. We must be somewhere around here," he pointed at a mass of roads and forests, far from where the castle was.
I nodded. "It should be a while before we even see the place. We should set out tomorrow morning."
"Gah, right in the morning?" said Korind. "I feel like I could sleep for days."
"Don't we all," said Dorian. "But the longer we stall, the greater the chances of our failure become. After all this, however," he said as he lay down on his back, "We'll be able to sleep all we like."
...Thursday, September 4, 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 06:44 a.m.
"Are you okay?" I asked, pulling Voláris out of the leaves by her good arm.
That was the fifteenth time since we set out, twenty minutes ago, that she had tripped and fallen. She wanted to find Korind, despite my pleas for rest. But she argued that her badly bandaged shoulder (it was my work with the bandage) was fine, and that now our primary concern should be making sure the third person in our trio was safe. I knew she wouldn't stay even if I asked.
"Korind saved me from myself, and now I will do the same for him."
Now she only grunted, pushing herself off the ground with her left arm only. It took her quite a bit longer than the first time.
"You need to rest," I told her, but she still plodded on. Only three steps later, another root caught her foot. Rolling over, she lay there with her eyes closed.
Her voice was weak when she spoke. "We must find him."
"I know, but you obviously can't go on."
"Dorian..." She started to get up again.
"No," I said firmly, pushing her back down again, gently. "You are staying here until you've recovered. You can't help Korind like this, even when we do find him."
"He might be in trouble. If he got attacked, he couldn't defend himself. He'd be captured, probably executed, while I lay here like a weakling."
Sighing, I flopped to the ground beside her. I feel the same way. Voláris must have known what I was thinking; she nodded slowly, opening her eyes long enough to look at me. "Go, search."
"And what about you? You can't fight, you can barely move your arm. And they know where we are. We have to stay together, we have to find Korind together. Once I leave, they can pick us off one by one. I'm sure they'll be more interested in finding you or me, than Korind. Are you listening?" Voláris had closed her eyes, and now her breathing was heavy. Her head moved slightly, and her eyes cracked open. She was about to fall asleep.
"Juss scou..." she mumbled finally, before she relaxed and allowed her breathing to regulate.
Sitting for a while, I debated that course of action. Would I hear anyone coming from thirty feet away, even five feet in these close woods? Perhaps if I went to the East first... that's where the soldiers had been coming from...
"Fine, I'll be back in a few minutes. Play dead if they find you." To my surprise, Voláris nodded. She wasn't asleep yet, and I wasn't sure if that was good or not. She'd be more alert, but she also needed rest.
As I had planned, I looked first to the East, and neither hearing nor seeing sign of any enemies, continued my circle South, towards the road we had just left. Still, nothing. Nearly had I finished the circumference, when smoke entered my lungs, first in hints and then enough to make me cough. Blowing from the West. Knowing what this surely meant, I rushed back to Voláris.
"He'll be okay," she said, before I even told her why I was in such a hurry. "He has an affinity to fire, it seems. This is his doing, not his undoing."
Suddenly exhausted, I dropped to the ground, stretching my arms above my head. No sooner had I extended my pained abdominal muscles, than sprinkles of rain began spattering my face. The fight had been taxing, and I was still surprised to have survived it. Without my bow I normally would be lost. The knife just felt so natural in my hands, though, and it was actually quite enjoyable to wield it as I did. Like an extension of myself. It was just too bad that a few soldiers had escaped with Voláris' sword.
"I wish Saden were here... she and her crew would be a big help. Especially since they were trained for guerilla warfare." I knew Voláris wouldn't respond; she was too weak. But I wanted to keep talking anyway. "I mean, no normal shipboard riff-raff could down a castle as skillfully as they did. Most armies can't. And Saden's armor, I nearly laughed every time I saw the style, but she told me, 'I made this myself, chose the pattern, forged each sheet, riveted every plate, and sewed every stitch. This armor fits me better than even the most skilled armorsmith could have made it.' I couldn't very well argue with that, since I had made everything I owned. Built to the style, that stuff is. Now I see that it wasn't Plains-style armor after all, it was that of a Jungle Guerilla."
Voláris sat up, snatched away a nearby leaf, folded it skillfully into a small square, and then ground it between her fingers. Then she rubbed the juice onto the wound. "I forged my own sword, also," she commented quietly, "and I continued to forge it, hammering it out on the armor of my enemies, right up to the moment I failed, and lost it."
Wondering what plant she had picked the leaf from, and how its juice helped heal, I almost missed what she said. But I was conscious enough to catch the meaning. "We'll get that sword back. It'll probably have a few more battle scars, but that's okay, isn't it?" Voláris nodded wearily.
"Quite okay with me."
...Sunday, August 24, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 04:53 p.m.
I finished up my business, my robe arousing the dust around me. A loud cry had my head cocked to an angle, and soon I scampered off towards the battle sounds. I ran for what seemed like a half hour before I stopped. There was no way that I had been going in the right direction...
Looking around me, I caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eye. Tiptoeing up, I found that he had disappeared. Continuing in the direction I was facing, I had to fight my way through a multitude of stinging branches to pursue the thing. After a few good scars as souvenirs of the hike, I ran into a wooden wall constructed of logs. I tripped over a high root onto a large bed of moss; a tall gangly-looking man standing over me.
“Good day,” the thin voice sounded. I flinched, replying with a hoarse “Hi.” He cackled as if I had just cracked one of my best jokes, and yet his face suddenly convulsed into a solemn war-ritual countenance. “Come with me,” he commanded, grabbing my wrist and efficiently throwing me into a mid-size log cabin. I scratched my knee in wonderment that such a thin man… the unattractive being flexed his bones, which were covered in skin.
“Amazed that I could even pick you up?” My wide eyes confirmed his question. He cackled again. “I am ‘Ablygazshedvardem the fourth, and this is my shrine.” I looked around the strange building. “Shrine to whom?” I asked. He grinned, opened his mouth, and vocalized: “To myself, of course.” I shifted uncomfortably.
“My real name is Hablygazshedvardem, but my friends call me Ablygazshedvardem for short.” He beamed at my silence. My wandering eyes fell upon a neat rack of glowing staves. “Are those enchanted?” I asked. His face convulsed into solemnity. “Yes.” Again, he brightened up. “Would you like one?” he asked, squatting down to my level. I glanced at them again, eyeing the red one. I nodded.
”Wonderful, wonderful…” Hablygazshedvardem clapped his hands and continued: “That red one is yours to keep… with 14 years of servitude to me, along with my name branded on your back.” Ignoring my open mouth, he started up a tiny forge, placing an enormous cattle brand on it. Turning, he smiled with an unnaturally wide grin. It seemed that all the sound outside was muted.
”Aha, so we have a deal?” I stood, my mind churning with what to do… Hablygazshedvardem took a step towards me, and suddenly there was no doubt which course of action I was going to take.
Throwing my legs out, I knocked the freak backwards, aiming for the heated forge. As he stumbled on what seemed to be wonderfully (for my purpose) weak knees, I slid my fingers across the well-polished floor, calling words that I had once read in an old scroll. The floorboards soon lit up in flames, not paying heed to the scorched screams of Hablygazshedvardem. I wasted no time in grabbing the nearest staff and hurtling out the window. Over the bed of moss, through the grasping arms of the trees, over the laughing vegetation that reached for my ankles, and through the thick of the woods… all the while listening to the cries of what may have been an amazingly great magician, but now an amazingly dead fiend.
With the expiration of my lungs, so concluded any movement of my legs. I lay on the ground, resting.
Phew, you can never take chances with magicians… what’s this? In my right hand I still held the staff… the red one, ever-glowing in thousands of different hues. Gazing at the head of the well-made rod I felt the raindrops began to fall… on my face, my body, and in my open mouth. The only sound left was the water hitting the ground…
...Sunday, July 20, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 05:13 p.m.
We walked along the side of the road in high spirits as we carried new weapons and more food.
“May the enemies come quickly so I can try this out,” I said, fingering the skillfully carved hilt of my newly acquired sword.
“No, take that back,” laughed Dorian. “I’d be looking forward to an eventless walk to Eraajian’s. Shouldn’t be the case, though.”
We stiffened at the sound of hoof beats and stared as an old cart drawn by a mule suddenly careened into view. Dorian laid a hand firmly over my wrist to keep me from drawing the sword as Korind walked up. “Greetings,” he said to the hefty, bearded man sitting on the cart. I noticed an unsightly, pale faced boy behind him. The man leaned forward in his seat. “Hail, travelers.” A thick voice. He had the average look of a peasant, with dull clothes and a glint in his eye I didn’t like. “Where are you off to, today?” In the space of an uneasy silence we glanced at each other, unsure of what information to disclose. The peasant raised his eyebrows. “And what is an elf doing here? I haven’t seen them around Farlia for years now. But I do believe…yes, I’m quite sure. I overheard someone talking about a small party hunted by the soldiers, of which an elf did accompany, and--”
I pulled away from Dorian and spoke, “Alright. We’re here by the King’s business, private matters which concern you not, and we’ve lost our map of the isle. Would you be of any help to us?” The man frowned slightly. “Eh…I have no map with me here. But uh…King’s business, you say? But I would have thought--“
“Please,” interrupted Dorian. “No questions, just direct us to the nearest outpost and you won’t have any problems.”
The boy stirred. “Pa, these look to be just the ones Ondin was talking about. And even if not, why should we have to help some…
stragglers?”
Hideous, I thought.
The man narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I do believe…yes. You’re quite right, son.”
Even worse.
“You know,” the peasant began, “Really. There’s no use in opposing the Throne. You’re just bringing trouble upon us all.”
I glared at him. “Trouble?”
“No, you don’t understand,” Dorian said. “It’s trouble which we cannot allow to continue. You don’t want to live--”
“Aiii, don’t try to make me agree with you.” The man held up his hand. “This conversation has probably put me in trouble enough. It would be better for me to report you.”
“Please, just tell us and we’ll leave immediately,” said Korind.
The man sighed noisily.
My fingers touched the hilt of my sword. The situation looked too unpromising.
“Right.” I lay the end of the blade at his neck. “Let’s have it.”
His eyes widened. I heard a sound behind him and saw that his son had held up a bow with the arrow pointing at me. Dorian groaned.
“Let them go.”
I stared at him angrily. Why wasn’t he drawing his dagger? My arm dropped to my side and I stepped back as the man hurried back onto his cart. With a crack of his whip, the cart quickly rolled around a bend and out of sight.
“I can’t believe you drew your sword,” Dorian began. “He was just about to tell us. And even if not, we can’t just kill an innocent peasant.”
“Innocent? He’ll tell people about us, and word will be all over Farlia! We could have overtaken them if you had used your dagger.”
“Voláris, we can’t save the people by killing the ones that get in the way. And having them all know about us might be a good thing--what about the separatists?”
“Separatists in Farlia?” I cried. “We can’t rely on such a thought. I feel that having even one man know is a bad thing. You shouldn’t have let him go.”
“I wouldn’t have had to if we could convince him that he could trust us!” Dorian frowned. “You shouldn’t have used force.”
“Sometimes force is necessary and killing essential to completing a job.”
“They have to be your last resort though! He was just a poor peasant!”
“I would have killed him if he were a small child!”
“Would you kill me too, if I got in the way?”
I caught a glimpse of his reddened face and glistening blue eyes as I looked away. He looked suprisingly hurt at my hesitation.
Would I? But there was no time to think, for the sound of marching drew near. We turned to see more than a dozen soldiers coming down the road. “There’s a trail a ways back which stems from this road--we could go in and fight from it, and lessen their advantage,” Dorian whispered hoarsely. “And where’s Korind?”
The mage was nowhere to be seen. “We’ll have to search for him afterwards. Let’s run.”
It was too late; the troop had seen us and was shouting. A crazed chase began, and we managed only to get in view of the trail before they were upon us. As I swung my new sword through the air with a breath of pleasure, I saw that Dorian was quite good with the dagger.
Shouldn’t take too long…wait.
While I lunged forward to strike one soldier, I saw out of the corner of my eye another tripping over something and falling in my direction. I cranked the blade around to slice him--just as I saw a flash of light glancing off the sword the soldier had dropped a hands-width from my face. I watched as its blade sunk into my shoulder, but I never saw the force that had struck me from behind. I tumbled into the ground.
An alarming feeling of remoteness passed over me as I saw Dorian work his way to where I lay, standing over me as he fought with the dagger. It seemed a horridly long time before all was still, and he slowly sat down on the road next to me.
In his hand was a folded piece of parchment stained with blood. This he handed to me with a weak smile.
...Friday, June 20, 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 09:13 p.m.
The great column of smoke dispersed at higher altitudes, spreading and thinning, increasing the area where its odor was noticeable. I followed it down to the source, only to see, dimly, the top of the very castle we had escaped from the night before. The fire was at its largest, consuming the timbers at the top in its fury. The crack of stone on stone could be heard even at this distance.
"D- Dorian? Should we start moving now?" Korind asked me, still staring blankly towards the castle. He didn't wait for an answer before scampering out of the tree and beginning to pack. I dropped beside him, pulling the pack away.
"Wait, let's at least see who has done that." Anyone who burned one of Eraajian's castles had my gratitude, and usually my friendship.
Whoever just brought down that fortification might be a valuable ally. Voláris suggested moving into thicker coverage, just in case, and we soon had removed our camp to a more hidden location. A deep grove of berry bushes supplied us another meal, and soon the sun began its decent.
"Ho! Travelers!" Quietly, Voláris drew a dagger- she had somehow kept it from the castle guards -and clenched and re-clenched her fist on the hilt in anticipation. The wind wafted a scent towards me, barely noticable and nearly overpowered by the smoke. But it was definitely one I recognized: The musty scent of fruit that I knew from Saden's cabin. I thought it had been just the cabin, at least; perhaps the salt air at sea had hidden the smell from me on the decks of the Stallion. Whatever, I lost all apprehension, strolling out to meet our visitors.
Raym met me in the clearing, along with two other men. They were all armed. "We had been wondering how you fared," he said, "after you jumped ship on us." Voláris stopped beside me, still gripping her dagger. I explained our delimna, but Raym only smiled. When I finished, the crewmen dropped a large bag at my feet.
"That should take care of all your problems," he said. "Now, we must be getting back to the ship. Saden was injured when we attacked the castle, and I must take command for the time being. I wish you well!"
In dividing up the load, we found not only food and extra blankets and clothes, but a sword and a dagger also. Voláris took the sword, and I the other dagger. Korind still had his runes, and he reported that he'd only need a few more to infuse a new staff, once we had obtained one. But, we now met an interesting problem: Daggers were no good to hunt with, and our food would not last us forever. We would need a new way to get food, without getting killed or captured.
Perhaps there are separatists, even on Farlia. I knew it was an unlikely idea. The domestic security on Throne's Isle was tighter than any other in the world... But surely there are some people here cunning enough to evade discovery?
The other possibility I could think of was theft. I did not like the idea of stealing from any civilians, since that could put us in ill favor before we had a chance to befriend them. Military posts here were guarded too well.
I brought our problem before the others as we hiked along through ever-more-hilly land. At mention of my reluctance to steal from innocents, Korind's grin popped up almost immediately, and he had an idea.
"What if we buy the stuff from them?"
"You forget, our faces are plastered all over Farlia." Voláris held up the Wanted poster, which we had kept for some reason or other.
"No, I mean, don't let them know!" Korind extracted a small coin from his pocket, and began acting the scenario out on his hand. "We go in, take the stuff, leave the money, and get out. We'll get the food, they'll get the money, we won't get caught, and we'll all be fine!"
I had to admit, it was a brilliant idea. Voláris thought minimally before nodding her approval.
"But, for now, we need another map," she pointed out, "they took ours."
Neither Korind nor I made any move to signify some sort of decision. For now at least, this was Voláris' show. "Lead the way!"
...Friday, June 20, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 06:50 p.m.
"Augh..." I woke up to the sound of Dorian groaning in pain. "Kilsentith..." I sat
up and stared at him. Slowly easing myself out from under the thick covers I
stood up. Dorian grabbed at the air fiercely in his sleep. Volaris sat by the fire,
seemingly not paying attention either of us.
"How long has he been dreaming?" I asked. Volaris didn't move her head. "He
only started just now." I turned back to glance at Dorian again. He had stopped
tossing around. His mouth opened wide, accompanied by a long groan.
"Grreehhh... Must kill... Korind..." I jumped backwards at Dorian's sub-conscious
rantings and Volaris' head snapped forward. Dorian's right eye popped open. "Just kidding, man." He smiled his very unique grin. I nudged him with my toe. "
What are we eating for breakfast?" I folded my hands on my stomach. Dorian
cracked his knuckles loudly. "Same old, same old." Volaris shook his hands
vigorously. "Don't do that," she said. "You'll get arthritis, and I can't allow that." She allowed herself a soft smile. He returned one. "Heh, can I get arthritis
after we settle down and retire?" Volaris' face changed back to how it usually
was, and ignored him.
I ripped open a pouch of dried meat. "Korind!" Dorian spun around. "You can't
just rip them open, I need to reuse that!" I mouthed a piece of lamb. "There you
go acting like an old lady again!" Dorian sat down next to me, shaking his head.
"Careful," he whispered. "We've got a very old lady with us right now." We both
grinned, but the grins vanished as Volaris leapt over the fire next to us. "Watch
it, 'Rian."
We packed up the food and lounged a bit on the soft moss. Dorian explained to
me what he saw when everything blacked out, back at the falling hill. "I turned to
see if you were ok, but you were on the ground and the hill was falling down on
you." Volaris cut in, "Actually, I turned around while fighting the soldiers and the
hill fell on both of you."
Dorian coughed. "That hill didn't fall on me!" Volaris shot
him the "I'm-right-you're-wrong" look and the archer sat back on a pile of coats.
Volaris told us what she saw after we both got buried. The hill fell on us, but
after the dust cleared we were left behind, sprawled in the dirt, without any trace of the hill-creature.
The soldiers had thrown a weighted net over Volaris, and between a dozen of
them, they hauled her away. Our unconscious bodies weren't left there, as we
found out when we woke up in the dungeon cell.
Volaris rubbed her forehead. Dorian sat silently, thinking, his hand covering his
mouth. "I don't have a weapon at all right now," he reminded us. I sucked in my breath... I missed my staff...
My thoughts were scattered (it looked like
Dorian's were also); Volaris suddenly threw a pail of water over the fire, with steam going up in a loud sizzle. Dorian instinctively threw a blanket over the fire, seeing
Volaris' urgency. I sat back and watched them busy. When the smoke dispersed,
Volaris grabbed Dorian's shoulder.
"Smell that?"
Dorian shook his head. "No, what?" Volaris grunted and released him
from her grip. "I'm the one who's asking, sniff!" Dorian closed his eyes and
breathed deeply. After a short while his eyes clicked open. "You're right." He
climbed up the side of a large tree. "It's destruction..." he whispered to me,
poking his head out from the foliage. I clambered up the tree after Dorian as
quickly as I could.
when I reached the top I saw Volaris, also perched atop a tree of her own.
Turning to face the way that Dorian and Volaris were gazing, I gasped at the
column of smoke that rose...
...Wednesday, June 18, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 07:53 a.m.
The others soon fell asleep in the glade, but I remained awake, staring out at the
sky and reciting the names of the stars to myself. I needed to take a walk, to
unwind my thoughts, and to rest my mind which could not be settled by lethargy.
After standing up and feeling for a sword that wasn't there, I slid my dagger out
of where I had hid it inside my clothes, and placed it under my belt.
The woods around me looked grey yet beautiful in the moonlight. As my mind
began to pass into the sheer fantasy of elven thought, the trees glistened with
unexplainable life and intricate designs appeared, as if drawn by an invisible
scribe, among the plants on the forest floor. The sky, once a thick black blanket
above me, was now carefully engraved with silver lines that formed words of a
language I couldn't understand. However, I barely noticed any of this for I was
listening to the quiet recitation of a poem that stirred the emotions of my deepest
memories.
In the valley depths
Another voice had told me
In the full moon's glow
Another song had called me
"
Lyo-nara."
I turned at the sound of my elven name but saw no one there. I was about to
think I had imagined it, when I heard faint laughing.
"They were all wondering what had happened, and to think it was as easy as
gathering the available information." A male elf with green eyes appeared from
among the trees.
"Silas? How did you know I was here?"
"Oh... I acquired an immensely prophetic little trinket that I believe was once
yours."
He held up a small scroll that I recognized as a journal I had kept centuries
earlier.
"It's in Yandil," I sneered.
"A language I have mastered."
"I will kill you for reading it."
He smiled. "That would be amusing, I'm sure... to see you waste all your priciples
on such an elf as I. Shall I go as far as to wonder... if you could ever hurt me?"
He brought out a smooth grey staff from inside the folds of his cloak. I
instinctively shrunk back.
"Elves cannot learn magic..."
"Ah, but the moon is high up and the river is far away, of whom have I to be
afraid?"
"Yet the moon shines clear and the river runs free. You will suffer for
transgressing the unwritten law."
"You think me a fool, Lyo-nara!" He laughed. "Of course. This power would not
be proper for a common elf as you... I went through many extraordinary pains to
receive it."
"And receive more pains you shall... I marvel that our counsel has not yet
destroyed you."
He grinned widely. "No they have not, and they won't. They can't destroy their
own
leader, after all."
I sucked in my breath. "You lie!"
"Ahaha, many things have taken place since you left, dear Lyo."
"What have you done to Aloden?" I cried.
"That weak old elf... we didn't need him to lead us. Heh heh... no. You belong
to me, now."
I pulled out my dagger.
He shook his head, pursing his lips. "No need to fight me. You can't
win
."
"I am Aloden's warrior."
"Indeed--and I shall
never see why you forsook your glory for that of a
warrior's."
"Nor I, why you chose to reduce yourself to the ethics... and lusts of a
man."
"Of a man!" Silas drew his staff. "No... not of a man."
He slowly ran a finger down the length of his staff. "I don't want to hurt you.
Come now, back to the counsel to which you belong."
"I secede from it."
"But you made the oath..."
I lowered my eyes, pretending to be sorrowful and in deep thought. Yet I
refused to speak with him any longer. An elf who had the forbidden knowledge
of magic had more power than any army. I visualized every step I would now
take, every technique I would use, every wound I would impart. Time lingered
on a silver thread.
"Lyo-nara? So will you--"
In silence I dropped to the right, slicing the fingers that held his staff and
stabbing his side, and then I leaped sideways, pulling my dagger across his
stomach and up into his heart. I watched, unfazed, as he fell to the ground,
with blood darkening his clothes. He opened his mouth, as if trying to speak.
"I... lied."
"What?" I moved to his side.
"I... don't..." He groaned in pain. "I'm not..."
"Not what?"
He was still. In the moonlight he did not move again. To the forest ground his
blood left him. I was once again alone, but this time tormented by the thought of
whether or not I was justified in killing another whose immortal life could have
sang for ages to come. All I had ever known seemed to cry against me...
A single butterfly with pale wings floated out from within the trees. It hovered
over me for a few moments, then landed lightly on a branch beside me. It
fluttered up again, and dropped onto Silas' body. A bit of blood stained part of
its right wing red. It then flew again, away from me, far into the woods. I
watched its tiny form grow smaller and smaller until it disappeared.
I brushed my hair out of my eyes, and returned to where Dorian and Korind were
still sleeping. I sat on the grass without speaking untill the night shifted and the
sky glowed with hues of pink and yellow.
...Friday, June 13, 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 01:19 p.m.
"Ughnnn....." Where was I? Stone walls, stone floor, stone staircase. And a single small window, with two metal bars set inside. It was dim and musty inside the room, which I supposed was a dungeon cell, but I could tell that it was clear outside, despite my just-awakened senses.
The last thing I remembered was diving to try to save Korind from the moving hill. Expecting a huge weight, I received only sleep.
At least I'm not hurt, I thought, checking myself over for missing limbs, skin that should be there, and was. As far as I could tell, I was alone. Strange, they hadn't chained me to the wall, like in all the stories I had heard as a child.
Several hours passed. Checking the shadows through the window once in a while, I deduced that we were on the west side of the building. Eventually, a man came down the stairs with a tray of food.
"What time is it?" I asked, willing my stomach to stop growling, with no avail.
Exagerating a look at the tray, the man told me in a sarcastic tone, "I'd say about lunchtime." He handed me the tray. "Save some for your little friend here. We're running a bit short lately." I glanced in the direction he had jerked his head, and saw only a mound of cloth. I thanked the man, whose name he gave as Traten, and he walked back out the door.
I sat, and began examining the food in what light I had. A medium steak, well done, some stringy, drippy greens, and crunchy beans. I squinted towards the corner when something began emerging from the pile of clothes there.
"Where- *cough* -am I? Is that food?"
"Korind?" I asked, recognizing his voice (and the appetite). I handed the tray to him, not hungry at the moment. I explained our predicament, realizing in the middle that we no longer had our weapons. Korind immediately began working on escaping. Standing on a bench, he tapped on the window bars, looked around the room.
"Help me with this," he said, looping a strong chain through the window. He began pulling on it, and I picked up the slack and assisted him. As we pulled, the bar began to bend, retreating from the socket. The progress was slow, however, and we rested several times, watching the shadows grow longer towards us. Though it seemed much longer, the sun was only just getting in our eyes when the bar finally popped from its place. Korind and I crashed against the wall, and the bar landed with a great clatter. Hearing the noise, a guard began unlocking the door. I quickly replaced the bar, hoping its curvature wouldn't be noticed.
"What's going on down here?" The guard asked, squinting against the sun. He began looking towards the window, peering in examination...
"Hey!" Guard spun around, snatching his dagger back from Korind, who had slid it out almost quietly, but it clanked on the armor.
Sucking the blood from the new cut on his finger, Korind glared at Guard. "I was only looking..." he said, and I could hear the humor in his voice despite his efforts to sound indignant. He then deflected an angry backhand, courtesy of Guard before his departure.
"I think my distraction worked well enough," Korind commented, again removing the bar from the window. I helped him climb out, passed a length of chain through, and then accepted his hand to pull me out. Voláris was only a few cells away, and by midnight we had freed her also. She seemed extremely dismayed at losing her sword, and all our efforts to cheer her while we walked were to no avail.
Finally, we came upon a small, cool glade. I divided out what food we had brought with us from the dungeons, and we drank our fill from a small stream at the edge of the trees. As the full moon passed overhead, we fell into deep sleep.
...Tuesday, June 10, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 02:41 p.m.
The portion of the map that Dorian held seemed very old. Ancient, almost. Thankfully, the compass rose was on the part that we had.
"Lets go this way," said Volaris, pointing at the crisp map. "It'll take us to the castle without us having to go across any busy roads. I patted my rune pouch and we struck off northward. After we had walked several miles we stopped to eat. Dorian heaved out some assorted dried meat and poured it into our cupped hands.
"Mmm," I murmered, "The lambish stuff is the best part." Volaris smiled tiredly. Oblong chunks of fruit were handed out, and we packed up, ready to go another slew of miles before our next rest. My legs felt like they were going to fall off, but we trudged along in the heat, having just left the shade of the woods.
"Brroogfaaah..."
Volaris shook her head. "Whatever, Korind." What? I thought. I looked around, but nothing was to be seen, besides the edge of the forest and several miles of grassy prairie. "Dorian?" I asked. He grunted his "Yes?" But I didn't say anything. We continued to trudge along until we came up to a large hill. Volaris stopped abruptly.
"What does the map say about this area of Farlia?" The elf seemed to fear something.
"I don't know," said Dorian, "All there is, is the hill and three lines with a line going through them right next to it. We're going to the castle which is up there." Dorian pointed to the map, not seeing the expression on Volaris' face. She grabbed at the map, her eyes darting below Dorian's outstretched finger.
"We've got to get away from this hill." Her eyes darted to it. "NOW!" Dorian and I slowly stepped away from it. "G'faaah..." went the noise. I shot a look at Dorian, whose eyes got bigger. We all started running northwest, away from the hill. It was now moving toward us at an alarming rate. I tripped over a dry rodent skeleton, which had nearly fused into the ground. I saw Dorian shoot an arrow over my head, into the hill-creature. I saw Volaris holler a battle cry and slice the heads off a pair of soldiers that ran towards us. Dorian spun around, loosing an arrow towards a mass of a dozen soldiers which came towards us, riding horses.
Flipping onto my back my eyes tripled in size, as the gigantic hill loomed over me, and fell flat. Onto me. Everything, black. I closed my eyes.
...Friday, June 6, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 09:53 p.m.
The sun rose high over the isle as we walked. "I'm drying up," muttered Korind. "We're almost there," reassured Dorian. "The outpost should be just beyond that hill."
I glanced at the woods on either side of the road. "Let's cut through, we'd be at an advatange to come from in the trees."
Dorian peered into the woods suspiciously. "I don't know, this looks pretty dense." We began hearing voices coming our way. "But staying out in the open doesn't sound good either. Let's go in."
After the first few steps the wall of trees began to thin. We paused to watch a scarlet-colored bird fly past us. Sunlight streaked through the canopy and spotted the forest floor with golden patches. Strange flowers and shrubbery covered parts of the ground.
"Ahh, look at this," I said as I picked a small yellow plant from off the ground. "
Onya, stops bleeding." I handed it to Korind, who put it into his rune pouch.
On we walked, ducking under low branches and stepping carefully over clusters of flowers. The forest began to gradually thicken, until I perceived that we were nearly at the edge. I peeked through the thick wall of greenery. Through the opening in an unfinished palisade wall I saw about two dozen soldiers, some strolling about, some chatting, others sitting at a wooden table.
Aha. There was a large map on the table.
"Do you see it?" I said in a hushed voice. "It's about 50 paces from where we now stand."
"Have you thought about how we are to acquire this?" Dorian asked.
"I could try a telekinesis," Korind whispered excitedly.
I eyed him. "
Try?"
"Well... it did work, once."
Dorian sighed. "Really. Any other options?"
"Well," I began, "I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to elimate the soldiers, as long as we have the advantage of suprise, and keep focused on the fight."
Dorian stared incredulously. "Full-scale attack? In this heat?"
Korind pulled out a few runes. "How about we try my idea first?"
It seemed that he took our silence for an agreement, as he climed up a tree and began arranging his runes on one of the branches. I heard him mutter some words, and then strike the stones. A brilliant red flash pulsed through the air past some shocked soldiers and then engulfed the map with what looked like flames. As the red tongues of light began to spread over the table, I gasped.
"Fire?"
"
Fire!" shouted one soldier. In the dry weather, the flames quickly consumed the table, along with three men who were too close. The fire blew into large cart next to where the table had been, resulting in an explosion of flames that went as far as one side of the palisades. The large mass of light and heat rolled along the wall, encircling all that were inside. The screams were lost in the roar of the fire.
Ashes and bits of wood flew through the air around us. A scrap of parchment spiraled down at our feet. I picked it up speechlessly.
Korind joined us, with his head down.
"Well," said Dorian, "We have half a map, I am avenged of my cabin, and there goes a bit of Eraajian's crew. Not too bad, korind!"
...Thursday, May 29, 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 07:54 p.m.
Ah, morning. The dark night had passed, twilight was gone, and now there was sun. Daybreak meant the start of our journey on foot, and the nearness of the end. Now we only had to work out the battle plan, get to the palace, past the guards, and to Eraajian. "Past the guards" was number one on the priority list: If we were caught, our chances of suceeding in our mission diminished greatly. Second most important was to remove Eraajian from power. The dagger Saden gave me, an inheritance from my father, would help with that. But it still involved a visit to his palace. And all this fit under the "work out the battle plan" category.
More guards? They must have been looking for their missing comrades. Voláris quickly hid Korind, then drew her sword, diving behind a small rise on one side of the path as I backed against a tree on the other side. Four heavily armored men were trudging along a nearly non-existent trail, swords drawn. They walked in loose double file, the two in front watching for something (I assume us,) and the other two searching more to the sides, peering over bushes and behind small drops beside the path, calling names.
I waited for Voláris' signal. She motioned with her fingers, directing me to fire on the soldier farthest from her first. Obligingly, I aimed for an eye slot, as it seemed the heavy armor included throat protection. The soldier fell without a cry, the loud clanging of his plates drawing the attention of the others. My second arrow dug it's way deep into the near forward's spine while Voláris beheaded a third. Knocked on his back by a stiff kick, the fourth patrolman was at the mercy of Voláris' sword, as she drove it through his armor and deep into his chest.
"We're leaving tracks too deep, Voláris." I said, taking my arrows and cleaning them off. "Every time they lose another soldier, they'll know where we've been." I found only a small flask of water and another Wanted poster in the first soldier's pockets. Volaris found similar items in the second, but the third turned up a small, local map, with the location of the nearest outpost. And the grand prize, in the armor of the third patrolman: a small sack of coins, nearly matching what we already carried. Korind dug it out with a huge smile. Then he grabbed the parchment from my hands.
"You know, this outpost might have a map of the rest of this place, maybe even the whole Isle!" he stated, jabbing his finger at the sketched map.
Voláris and I locked eyes. No discussion was needed. We got up and began walking, reading the map I had snatched back from Korind, who followed, asking "Wait, what are we doing?"
...Thursday, May 29, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 01:46 p.m.
"He knows that we're coming?" I gasped. "Then why are we going to him, won't he be ready for us?" I continued worrying. I was ignored.
"We'll approach his quarters by the southern wall." Dorian nodded, pulling a long red dagger out of a sleeve. While wondering where he got it, I griped some more. "How are we going to get in?" Volaris shifted on her rock. "Get down!" she whispered, pulling me down from atop the rock. Two soldiers approached our penninsula, chatting light-heartedly.
Next to me, Volaris dropped her index finger, which she had been holding up. A soldier fell dead, an arrow in his neck. The other soldier cried out. Volaris leapt forward and thrust him in the heart with her dagger. I crept up along with Dorian, who retrieved his arrow. We
went through the clothes and bags to gather the spoils. Extra pants for Dorian, a long knife for Volaris, and a small biscuit for me to munch on.
Volaris took a quick breath. Holding a bright scroll for us to see, we all took quick breaths of our own. Rough sketches of Volaris and Dorian graced the picture, along with a massive reward for whoever would capture them. I looked up quickly, my eyes wide. "What if I'm n-" I paused.
"Next?" I finished. Volaris put her hand on my shoulder sadly.
"You are next."
Dorian looked up towards the sky. "In some ways, this is good." He took a deep breath. "It forces them to capture us." Volaris cocked her head, and Dorian continued. "The reward is given only when we are brought before them alive."
I never really understood what that meant, something about the greed of man. Night was soon upon us, and I stole away from camp with my staff. My rune-pouch bounced at my side. I arranged an collection of runes on the ground. Enchantment rune. Fire rune. Water rune. Rune of the Earth. Rune of the Air. Several others lay there; all I would need for a successful infusion. I sat there, rearranging and gazing...
"Glapheo Shille." I placed one hand on the ground, next to the Enchantment rune. Wait... Wait... Wait...... The moon passed behind a cloud.
"KIYA!" I brought my hand up and brought the green staff downward, striking the rune so hard that the staff fell out of my right hand. Every one of the runes was gone, leaving only a puff of smoke behind. And the staff lay on the ground. Same as before. Cold and dark, just as the future was to be. I lifted it up and returned to the dim light of camp, feeling drained. Dorian lay on the ground, snoring melodically. Volaris sat cross-legged by the fire, waiting for me. She glanced at my staff. I handed it to her open palms.
"Kaeia-Solone-Meey..." She sang softly, wonderfully! Dorian blinked and sat up abruptly, but I lay down beside him. Soon it would not be cold anymore. "Brother Dorian" I thought. I smiled. We were a strange little family. Dorian sighed happily, and shifted a bit.
When I woke up, it was still dark. Volaris was sitting next to me. She handed me my staff, which glowed softly. It was green, with light maroon dancing amid the greenish hues. Like the sea.
"You failed not, Korind." I smiled at Volaris.
"Thank ye, sis."
...Tuesday, May 27, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 11:58 a.m.
"Land ho!"
Because the storm had blown our ship somewhat off course, the voyage had taken longer than usual. We were all glad to know that land was sighted. To my amusement a few sailors brought out small pipes and began filling the air with light-hearted music. I looked out toward Farlia and saw a well-kept dock surrounded by thick forests on both sides. I noted where a small penninsula jutted out at the side of the dock, perfect for a quick route into the island. I carefully whet my black dagger as I devised different ways to get into Eraajian's castle.
"So, have you enjoyed the voyage?" a voice burst into my thoughts. Raym was smiling brightly as he came beside me.
"It was agreeable."
He looked at the dagger I held in my hands.
"Weapons... do you think they'd allow that on the king's isle?"
Before I could speak, someone shouted
"HUT!" and the music stopped abrubtly. We turned to the sound of soldiers who were on another ship, holding out their bows and spears. The ship pulled in beside ours with trained accuracy, and 10 of its passengers jumped onto our deck.
One man, who seemed to be the leader, began to speak. "We have orders to search every ship for enemies of the throne, and confiscate weapons and items of high value." He went on to curtly explain procedures and demand that we stay on the main deck as they worked.
He knows..., I thought. I pushed through the small crowd that was gathering around on the main deck and found Dorian and Korind at the back of it.
"We'll have to jump ship," I said in a hushed voice, "and swim to the shore."
Dorian nodded confidently, while Korind's eyes widened.
"It shouldn't be too hard to get past the soldiers, but we need to be careful," I said, and with that, I hoisted myself up on the side of the ship and dropped over the other side.
I wondered if water could ever be darker and colder. I came back to the surface, breathing hard.
"Eh, I can't swim," said Korind as he flailed about in the water.
"Why didn't you say so?" I gasped. I pulled him up on my shoulder. "Let's go for the other side of the land jutting out over there, Dorian."
He smiled as he carefully held his bowstring above water. "I hope you know what we're doing."
Soon we reached the penninsula and pulled ourselves onto the large rocks on the side.
"If we go through the woods, we'll have a better chance of not being seen," I said. "They'll be looking for us. He knows we're coming..."
...Monday, May 19, 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 04:13 p.m.
Again, work took the place of my anger, as I slaved away securing the sails. The storm had rent much of the large pieces of cloth, but the crew's disarray of mind afterwards put off the repairs until morning. Once the tears had been mended, I was assigned the task of helping secure them, but it was hard to keep my thoughts off of last night's strange event.
Around the pole twice, around the stand, under both loops, then over-and-under... I nearly didn't remember how to tie that particular knot... The only knots I had tied recently were simple, slip-knots for my bow and for animal traps once in a while. The land-locked cottage where I spent most of my time had driven off memories of sailing that seemed to flood my mind as I worked.
In accord with my reminiscence of the ocean, I also began to recollect bits and pieces of things I'd learned about Farlia from the vacations my family and I took there. But, as usual, I read extensively during the day, and roaming at night, when comfort was easier for me to obtain outdoors. The dark had always made me feel better, hidden from enemies, but able to see all that I wished, even in the deepest, gloomiest shadows. I could remember the exact location of our vacation suite, for the sea charts and land maps on our yacht fascinated me, and I spent the entire trip studying them. But other than that, and the immediate area around the suites, I knew nothing, because that was all I ever saw.
"Dorian!" the Captain shouted, standing firmly in place at the prow, now staring out over the waters ahead. Quickly finishing a knot, I dropped from the spar and hurried to the foredeck. I had never taken a good look at our fine captain, and now I found it hard to keep a straight face: Captain was barely three and a half cubits in height, had shoulder-length brown hair that curled in at the bottom, and wore the garb of a plains soldier, in a scale-armor vest with simple leather sleeves.
"Reporting," I announced, imitating the crew's professional tone. Iyh, the humor showed through. I hope Captain Saden didn't notice...
That hope was dashed when, suddenly, she turned around, eyeing me with cold, controlled contempt, her hands on her hips. Her voice was icy, as she correctly deduced my thoughts. "You find it amusing, that the captain you are sailing with looks so common, so weak. Am I correct?"
"I will not deny it," I answered, suppressing my smile. That is, until her dagger seemed to just appear under my chin, the blade still shivering from the draw.
"Until you pass my test, you shall not treat me as anything less than your employer as long as you are on my decks." Snatching my collar and yanking my face to hers, she added a bit more pressure to her knife to empower her next words. "Do not underestimate me, boy."
I knew I could not hesitate, and give her time to prepare. As quickly as I could, I threw my weight backwards, hooking my left hand behind Captain's neck, the other around her right wrist. I landed on my back with a thud, and scooped the dagger from beside me, which my opponent had dropped in her efforts to catch herself. My left hand wrapped around her left shoulder, and I turned over, rolling the Captain's light form under me. The final step, once I had my balance, was to close a fist firmly over her throat, bringing the point of the blade to the vein below my thumb. The entire sequence took a mere three seconds.
Captain, breathing hard from the struggle, began laughing. "Well done!" she exclaimed, "You pass." Quickly, before she had a chance to continue the fight, I jumped up, yanking the Captain up after me, and handed the dagger over. "Very skillful disarm, boy, I could hardly improve it. I would have been glad to have you on my crew, had your quest not been in conflict." She bowed deeply, commenting as she rose, "And don't forget I said that, should you be in need of some money." I returned the gesture, but my mind was hard at work attempting to reason how she knew of our journey. There was no need.
"I am Saden," she stated, extending a hand, which I shook. "I have heard much about your trip from your Elven companion, Voláris. I had previously received word of your exile, but would like to hear more about it. You may not have recognized me, but I was the First Mate aboard the Wave's Crown, the royal cruiser, and knew your parents well..."
I knew she looked familiar.
...Thursday, May 15, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 02:23 p.m.
I finished re-arranging our luggage. I heard a huge voice yell upstairs on the deck.
Now what? What's happening up there? I ran upstairs, to see Volaris send a rope into the clouds. A brilliant flash of light exploded and the storm abated.
"Woahhh!" I whispered. "Can ya teach me that, Volaris?" She didn't move, her gaze to the sky. Shaking her head slowly, she glided off to her quarters. The other sailors went off to do their work as if nothing had happened. My eyes met Dorian's, and we retired to our room.
~~~~~~~
I lay with my lower body on the bunk, my upper body propped up by two spindly arms. I stared at the floor. And my lunch: what covered it. A third *BARF* woke Dorian up, his eyes still squinted from lack of sleep.
"You don't look so good, Korind." I peered up at him. Yep. I attempted a grin. It probably came out more like a scowl.
"I better clean that up then, huh?" I sat up, feeling my entire stomach turn over and slosh in agony. Dorian nodded, pinching his nose. I left to get a mop and a bucket, but when I returned, Dorian had left.
Guess the smell was too much for him, awake. After about an hour of slow scrubbing, the floor was wet, but clean.
I returned to the deck of the ship, but no one was there. The sunlight seemed foreign, and I couldn't tell if it were setting or rising. Yellow hues. Grey radiance. The salty air permeated my clothes, which calmed my churning stomach. I wiped my mouth and headed down into the galley. In the dimly lit room I pulled up a chair. The cook was washing the floor. Hard. Like it was a long lost enemy.
"Can I have something to eat?" I asked. She looked at me, and her face softened. "OK, but you'll have to earn your extra meal." I laughed sheepishly. "Heh, heh... Alright." I feared the worst, like scrubbing the entire ship with the pelt of a rat. The cook said nothing, but tossed me a piece of bread and a huge lumpy green fruit. I siezed the food and ate quietly, wondering about what my chore was to be.
"Done?" Asked the cook later. I nodded yes, and spoke my thanks. At the sound of "Thank you," her eyes glinted, but then she laughed. "Alright," she said. "I need you to scrub the galley until I come back, or, for thirty hours, whichever comes first." My eyes popped open, and she laughed again.
Phew, just kidding. She pointed to a closet in the corner and headed up the steps.
"Wait," I said. She turned, taking her apron off. "What's your name?" I asked. She blinked. "Erteya." The apron flopped onto my head, covering my face.
...Tuesday, May 13, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 08:54 a.m.
There was shouting, something metal clattered onto the ground, and then
deep silence, the serenity of which was tainted by the sound of muffled weeping.
Feeling inevitably uncomfortable, I leaned against the wall beside the door, which
immediately swung open. It was Dorian, breathing hard and with fire in his eyes.
"Don't ever let me do something that crazy again," he seethed. He turned and strode
off, leaving me frozen in place as I wondered what he meant.
Ominous clouds began to stretch across a sky darkening much earlier than it should of.
I stood by the side of the ship and observed a pair of gulls gliding through the
darkness. Erteya emerged from the galley with tangled hair and glistening eyes, and I
watched as she slowly walked to the side of the ship and gazed into the dark mists.
Like a wilted flower she stood still, yet the wind moved carelessly through her hair.
Like a lost child, a lone heart... a losing war.
Like I.
Rain began to fall; first in soft whispers, then in heavy drops, and then, as expected,
the silver sheets of a mild storm slid over the deck. Erteya and the others hurried
down the stairs for shelter, and I soon found myself alone on the starboard as the
glass curtains continued to cut through the air. I wiped my face with a drenched
sleeve. Even at this hour, there were songs in the wind.
Loud voices broke into my mind. The workers on the ship had deemed the storm
dangerous, and were running about the deck, pulling things down and hoisting other
things up.
"Hey, y'elf", shouted one of the crew. "Get underdeck or help! Can'cha see the storm
we're in?"
I saw the storm. I accepted a rope that the man tossed to me. The songs became
louder.
"Go tie down that sail over there," he called.
A dark wave at the side of the ship soared unbelievably high, and crashed down
again, exploding the waters.
"Aye, give me the rope," bellowed a heavily-built man.
I looked up at him silently, but did not offer the rope.
"Give it here, now!"
"No," I murmered. "I shall do it." He brought his arm up, as if he were to strike me. The
songs became even louder. If I had been a young elf, I would of covered my ears.
Where are you, Aioni?
The arm came closer.
I am lost...
I saw him hit my shoulder, and reach for the rope. All I heard, however, was a song I
had never heard before.
I am with you.
Instead of feeling the man's blow, I sensed a staggering power in my right arm. With all
my might I threw the rope up. It disappeared into the clouds, from which a flash of light
shot out.
The songs stopped altogether too quickly. The rain ceased and the grey clouds drifted
away, yielding to a black sky filled with stars.
I understand now, Aioni.
"Woahhh!" gasped Korind, who had come up to help. "Can ya teach me that??"
...Wednesday, May 7, 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 02:33 a.m.
I don't think I'd ever marched so far so quickly in my life. Yeah, I'd been all over the continenent, (at least, I think so, I'd never been a geographer,) but the center of the landmass to the shoreline in a week? That was quite a feat, even for Voláris, battle-hardened elf, and myself, fit-as-a-fiddle archer. By the time we had boarded the large boat, I was enlightened by the fact that we wouldn't have to walk for a few days. I could only imagine how much more relieved Korind was.
When we had first began our hike, I could only think about my house. That cabin had been my favorite, and I put the most work into it. Voláris' nearly constant talking had done much to keep my mind off it during the day, but when we stopped at night to rest, the sense of loss would return.
Oh well, I thought,
everything comes to an end sometime. Even favorites.
Soon, the first mate approached us, introducing himself as Raym. "Welcome to the Stallion," he began, "I would like to show you around, if you don't mind. Get you acquainted with the ship." Korind was the first to rise; his curiosity was not dampened by weariness.
Maybe he'll show us to our quarters. And he did, first thing. He kept apologizing for their quality, but I could hardly have been more impressed. They were very nice. He followed up with a tour of the galley, explaining what we could and couldn't mess with, then a brief overview of the deck. Raym then asked whether any of us had any experience with sailing. Since I had owned a small boat when I was younger, I told him so.
I was on the verge of expecting what he said next. He was asking me if I would assist in the operation of the boat. "It's not often that we have passengers, so if it's possible, we allow them to help out, in return for no travel fee." Remembering not to groan, as I knew this would be the end of my resting period, I agreed. I wasn't sure how much money we would need on Farlia, but in any case, I couldn't let myself start slacking off. Then I would get lazy, and wouldn't want to hunt, or hike... That would put an end to our journey very quickly. Even an elf can't hunt with only a dagger.
And so, much later that night, I returned to the quarters. I found Voláris laying on a bottom bunk, two overcloaks laying on the floor beside her. She was on her back, hands under her head, staring at the boards above her. Though she made no motion, I knew she took note of my entry. Dropping my own coats beside hers, I sat down cross-legged on the floor.
"Where is our mage?" I asked, imitating Voláris' speech slightly, though it felt awkward to refer to Korind like a personal possesion. Voláris only nodded towards a hammock behind me, and I then noticed a steady breathing.
"I guess he was worn out." Volaris nodded. "I guess you are worn out too." Volaris nodded again, closing her eyes to emphasize the fact. "I'm worn out too. Goodnight."
Late to bed, early to rise makes one tired guy. Sunrise found me being startled awake by a rush of footsteps as the crew made their way topside to begin the day. I wasn't talented at falling asleep once I had been awakened and it was light out, so I rolled out of bed (or nearly so, I caught myself before the painful drop to the floor) and followed them. Voláris' bunk was empty.
Grrrowwlll...
How long had it been since I had eaten? I guess it didn't matter, I was hungry anyway. When I was halfway across the deck, I spotted Voláris descending to the galley. Nearing the stairwell, I was surprised to smell already the makings of a good meal. The cook must get up early, I thought to myself. As I clunked heavily down the stairs, I heard Voláris and another female voice making conversation: "Why, hello!" "Oh, hello. Sorry, I walk in my sleep." "Ha ha, it's quite okay."
I had heard that voice before. But, unfortunately, my memory had always been fairly bad, and I could not put a finger on where the golden tones of that voice resided in my brain. As I stepped into view, the cook's face joined her voice in the lost-and-found. I found myself trying to match them with people in the village near the mainland central castle.
The cook extended a hand to me. "You look like somebody I used to know," she commented, grinning widely. I could say the same, I almost replied, but that would surely by followed by an "Oh really? Who?" that I could not answer. She continued, gripping my hand lightly. "My name is Erteya."
Of course, I should have known! How could I have forgotten who she was? It was all I could do to keep from grimacing, as I gave my name. I had never seen a facial expression melt so quickly. Immediately, the grin flipped upside-down, Erteya released my hand, and spinning on her heel, began busily tending to breakfast. I had hoped that the anger would have subsided by now: her complete and total rejection of me was the most painful thing that I had felt in a long time. Discreetly, Voláris exited the scene, closing the topside door on her way out.
By now, Erteya had stopped furiously chopping fruit and just stood there, leaning on the counter with her back to me, her eyes closed. In a trembling voice, she asked me, "do you know how much pain you've caused?" Unfortunately, I did. All too well.
"I'm sorry..."
"That doesn't work. That doesn't give anything back."
A temper is a terrible thing to lose. Especially in a situation like mine. My patience was pushed to its limits. "I have nothing more to give."
Erteya slowly began dropping pieces of fruit into a pot. "Then get out," she ordered, the trembling shifting from anguish to cold wrath. I hesitated, juggling whether or not to say something before I left. My thoughts were cut short by a sudden hard impact on my jaw. Now Erteya had turned around, and I saw that her face was red, and tears were streaming down it.
"Get out!" she screamed, throwing several more punches. Thankfully instinct took over, and I blocked most of the blows, but I decided to obey her command. Finally, as I was about to trip over the first step, she ceased her onslaught, wheeling back towards the pot, sobbing as she pulled her blonde hair out of her face.
"I'm sorry..." I whispered, slowly trudging up the steps.
Voláris was leaning against the wall beside the door when I emerged.
"Don't ever let me do something that crazy again," I said to her angrily. No, it wasn't anger, it was grief, it was pain. I could only hope she didn't take my treatment of her personally; I just needed to vent, before I exploded, and she happened to be closest.
No tears, Dorian, not now. Tears could wait. Pain could wait. Just push it all away until nighttime, when everyone else is asleep. Then I could let it all out. When did I become so weak? When did a girl's actions, a girl from my past nonetheless, become so painful? The captain saved me from my crisis, shouting some form of order. That's right, work. Forget about pain, just work.
...Tuesday, May 6, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 01:43 p.m.
Volaris didn't bother looking back towards me, but Dorian shot me a glance. "Only one liddle bowl of stew," I muttered. As we hiked further we hiked for longer, and with shorter breaks. I did not quite understand why we needed to meet our enemy with such speed.
As the castle that I had been imprisoned in was deep in the mainland, several days of hiking went by, most of them bland, but also filled with learning.
Volaris would brief us of Farlia, and the people there, and of how its customs went. "Customs?" I had asked. "Like weird islander customs?" Volaris sighed deeply. "No, Korind," She stared a few inches above my head. "More like customs officers, more like 'We slice off your head if
you bring in illegal wares.'"
And so I learned. Slowly. It did not seem that Dorian had ever been to the isle of Farlia, but he would listen intently, deep in thought as the wise elf taught us how to reach Eraajian by the quickest and cheapest route. And after several days of hiking, we arrived at the edge of the mainland. And there we arrived at the small cluster of
buildings known as Farlmete.
Entering a nearby building, we were met by a thin storekeeper. "Here you can buy weAPON! Supplies." His jerky accent made me smile, and I recited what he said under my breath a few times. I couldn't just let a
cool accent like that go by unmimicked, eh? I allowed myself a giggle. Volaris gave me a quick glare, but replied to the storekeeper, "What do you have in stock?" With a quick guesture the shopkeeper pointed to a
wall behind him. The shelves of the wall contained a small buffet of scattered items, although nothing appealed to me.
Volaris picked out a small black dagger to replace the one that was now rusting in the body of a guard back in the castle. Dorian purchased a bag of something wrapped in leather. "Fletching," spoke Dorian as we left the hut.
I squinted at a sign up by the doorway of another building. "Hey!" I hollered, and I ran in before the others followed. When Dorian walked in, I displayed a few
small shining runes in the palms of my hands proudly. "Great prices here," I whispered.
Moving on to other huts, we restocked on food and other needs cheaply, finding just the rarer items over-expensive. Dorian sold off a few pelts that he had been lugging for awhile, and it was off to Farlia for us.
...Thursday, May 1, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 12:50 p.m.
“My council,” I began, "would have me continue with our bondage to justice... though the results of thus would not affect the future of the elves...” I noticed that Korind was staring at me with wide eyes. “However, for the sake of our young mage and his people...”
I watched a vivid flash of white swing through the air before me and land just a hand’s width from where I sat at the wooded table. “A tarred arrow, lit,” I murmered, as Korind and Dorian cried out. Two more of these whistled though the window, one sinking into the wall and the other clattering onto the floor. The flames eagerly spread over the wood of Dorian's cottage, and soon we were rushing away from the window and grasping for our weapons.
"They've found us... and will burn down your house... do we fight?" I asked.
"We run," Dorian replied. "Follow me."
He opened a door in the ground near the back of his house, and we hurried down a crude ladder into a small cellar. A rather unwelcoming hole in the side of one of the dirt walls loomed ahead, and through this we crawled for a short time, until I found myself going upward, and suddenly, outside behind a large tree.
Dorian peered back at his house, now halfway engulfed by flames.
"Well... that's the end of that."
I lowered my head. "I apologize. It is me they're after. You two don't deserve this. I will come with you until the nearest village, then go far away from here..."
Korind shook his head. "I have no where to go, except to fight Eraajian, and kill him, and you will come, won't you?"
"And I can't leave now," Dorian smiled. "There's nothing left for me, except to fight."
I looked into their eyes, waiting for them to change their minds, to regret their decision, to suddenly reject the hardships that would most definately come... but I found that they were waiting for me.
"Yes. We start for the coast of Ondari, a walk of many days from here and even longer if we wish to be discreet; and from there we sail to the isle of Farlia, on which the throne is situated. I suppose we could plan out our actions as we walk. Onward, now."
"Wait, Wait," Korind said. "We
will occasionally stop on the way for food and such, will we not?"
...Tuesday, April 22, 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 09:58 a.m.
Hmm. A fourteen-year old mage planning with partial success to rescue his townspeople. "Good old Korind," I muttered as he finished, about the same time Voláris said "Poor Korind." I guess both of us were right; it was brave of him to do something so risky and dangerous, but it was also unfortunate that he didn't succeed. By now our bowls were empty, so I gathered the dishes and dumped them in the wash-basin.
As I rinsed the gunk off a spoon, I glanced to the corner, and an idea hit me: In that corner were a few walking sticks, things I had made when there wasn't much else to do. It had been a while since that was the case. The castle's growing demand for food made hunting a much more tedious task, since deer were harder to locate. They used to be all over the place...
"Korind, your only weapon is your magic, right?" I asked, testing the staves for strength, ease of movement, and other things. I wasn't really expecting an answer, and didn't get one either. Finally I decided on a medium-length green one, and took it over to the window, where Korind was staring out into the forest. I watched his face, how the muscles in his face worked, how blank his eyes looked. His story-telling was bringing back memories, I could tell. A full ten minutes later, he noticed me, straining to pull his mind back to the present.
"What's that?" he asked, eyeing the staff I held. Hmm, what razor-sharp wit could I use to respond with? Forget wit, I'd probably only make a fool of myself.
"It's yours," I replied, "it's a staff I made, a couple years ago. I cut the branch from a live tree, and carved it down the same day. It stayed green even when it dried, and I've not figured out why. Guess it's just the wood." Korind stood and took the staff, feeling the surface. A smile spread across his face.
"Thanks," he muttered, tapping the stick against the floor. He grinned widely. "It's very nice."
"Glad you like it."
I sat down and continued washing the stew out of the bowls. "What do we do now?" I asked Voláris.
...Thursday, April 17, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 02:13 p.m.
"Aha, me then, eh?" Voláris said nothing, and Dorian gave a hint of a nod. I grimaced slightly,
and continued.
"I... my town went through the search a few years ago." Dorian's eyebrows rose. "The search done by Eraajian's soldiers."
"Well, they didn't really get to search us, because one of our guys killed two of the soldiers when they tried to go into his house. That set us all off to killing the nearest soldiers, except most of us didn't have weapons." Voláris allowed herself a silent scoff, but I continued. "So everyone got imprisoned. Except for me, because I was hiding instead of running, screaming, or fighting. I guess they just couldn't find me."
I took a sip of soup and leaned back in my chair. "Go on," said Dorian.
"Well, after a few hours I left my hideout," I wiped my mouth quickly. "Leaving the small hole in the ground, I found the homes completely stripped of valuables, with only food remaining. I took a satchel full of food and headed towards the nearest town, where I had been taking apprenticeship from an old mage there, and I told him my story. His entire countenance morphed when he found that I was anti-Eraajian. He just stood up and left."
“After I was alone without anyone I knew, I began the long and boring process of creating runes. The runes were for selling, and for the deliverance of my townspeople." At the second, both listeners were gazing out a window, but nothing was there to stare at. So I continued:
"That was four years ago. I spent three years creating runes, selling some, and hoarding others. After I bought the kind I needed and couldn't make, I went off to the castle where my townspeople were captive. I had money and runes, and I was going to teleport into the cell and create a portal for us all to escape."
"But... you didn't?" Dorian asked. "Well," I said, "The teleport worked okay. But when I got in, I placed the portal rune on the floor and realized that not only did I have fire runes instead of the air runes... which I needed..." I took a breath. "But neither did I make any teleport runes to get out." We all sat in our seats for what seemed like a few minutes... Dorian started smiling, and then my audience exploded into laughter.
"It isn't funny," I claimed. "I spent one year in jail after three years of toiling to make basic runes, just to sell them to get cash to buy a teleport rune and a portal rune! How was I supposed to know that I'd need two?"
"Poor Korind."
"Good old Korind."
I looked to both of them, and I had trouble telling who said what... but it didn't matter anyway. I returned them a smile.
...Tuesday, April 15, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 04:19 p.m.
I watched Dorian tell his story with wide eyes, marveling at the thought of mortal love springing so
suddenly, and for such little reason...
I saw him clench his fist as he first mentioned Dagren, and his eyes lower when he spoke of
the fight, and of his exile. There was a small silence after his telling.
"Who's next?"
I had never told anyone the story of my life, and the thought of doing so did not seem wise, or
practical.
My mind was filled with the songs of rivers that did not end, the wild calls of beasts that never
spoke again. Trees that grew forever and trees that never did. The extensive lore I had learned
as a child had intertwined with the past I experienced, and there was no way to separate the
two--my story was the same as that of all elves. Looking into the mortal faces before me, I
perceived that all they wished for, or knew the existence of, was a shallow and temporarily
useful telling of events.
I glanced at the window, at the green trees outside.
"When I came to this land about a century ago, this land was ruled by a just king, Arenion. He did
many good things for the elves, and for his people. Something strange happened during his rule,
and most believe that his sons conspired against him, but we never heard from them."
"The elves were divided. Some wanted to leave and band together, while some wanted to stay
with the other peoples during the troubled times. I wanted to stay..."
I glanced at the hearth, at the yellow flames as they flickered.
"There were massacres and treachery among us, and I know some follow after me still, to destroy
me for... something I did. In fleeing the chaos, I joined a sect that was very serious about justice.
When
Eraajian came to the throne, we were some of the first that opposed him. He has
caused many problems, but my council is most concerned with his disposal of his army in
conquering other lands, and killing or enslaving those who speak against him. A deed that is of
weakness. The men forget, but the elves, never. And such have my skills as a warrior been
used."
I stared into the table at which we were sitting, at the lines in the wood that sang all kinds of
songs.
"Yesterday I failed... I lost my map. I could not return. But because of Korind I think I shall go
on..."
Then I was silent.
...Sunday, April 13, 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 04:16 p.m.
Voláris waited as I kicked the door open. Years of doing things with full arms enhanced my sense of balance, and also taught me to do things without using my hands. About the only thing I couldn't use without both hands was my bow, but I was working on that.
Korind had collapsed on my cot as soon as we came in, and I set up the other for Voláris to sleep on. Why I had two cots has been and will remain a mystery to me. I had lived alone for four years, after building this and several other cottages just so I could live alone. Anyway, I slept on the floor near the firepit.
The next morning, I was the first to arise. I threw a small bundle of twigs in the firepit and dumped some salted venison in the pot. After pouring some broth in over it, I lit the tinder with a couple rough rocks I had pulled from the castle walls one night. I had long ago lost my flint-piece, but these stones worked just as well.
On the cot, barely audible, Korind was muttering. Then he gasped. Apparently he was still slightly in shock from killing the horseman. Volaris, who had been examining a small stick for... something, walked over and poked him in the belly, telling him to wake up. The young mage tumbled off the bed in one last turn, but quickly seemed to forget his dream. He asked what was for breakfast. Venison stew seemed to excite him; he quickly sat down and took my spoon.
"Hey, that's the master spoon. It's mine," I mock-reprimanded him, grinning to let him know I was joking. He gave it to me anyway. I took two more spoons in the same hand, and nearly tossed our bowls out. I dropped the spoons by our bowls, and then ladled the soup in. Korind immediately ate a few spoonfuls, but Voláris closed her eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the smell. I took the opportunity to switch spoons with her, and I'm pretty sure she didn't notice.
"So..." Korind began, holding out the O. I motioned for him to continue. "Time for our stories?"
Oh boy, the stories. I hadn't heard a story in such a long time...
"You said you would tell yours first when we got back," Voláris reminded me. Hmm, I sure did say that. I don't know why...
"Well, the story of how I came to be a lone archer living nowhere and everywhere. I won't be too detailed, to save time since I'm curious to hear your stories. This could get interesting."
"It started out when I was thirteen. As the son of Lord Yerna, I had been going through life learning much about our and other countries, much more into the past than the present. You could ask me anything about the history of any known nation, and I could tell you from memory. I didn't learn how to farm, how to hunt, how to fight... just reading all day, knowing as much as I could."
"That changed when I met Erteya. Not surprisingly, I was on my way to the palace library, carrying lots of scrolls to do some research about the early kings, and she was on her way home from the armory, her arms full of swords and daggers. As fortune would have it, we tripped over each-other's feet as we passed, tumbling to the ground and spilling our respective loads."
" 'That's a dangerous load to fall on top of,' I said, seeing what she had been carrying. All she did was look at me like I was crazy."
" 'They're all sheathed,' she stated, 'what would have happened to me?' "
"She obviously had no sense of humor, at least not at the time. All I could do was roll my eyes and help her gather the weapons. Then I walked her home, learning on the way her name and why she was carrying so many blades. Her family had just moved to the palace, because her father was a diplomat from some country, I never could remember and never thought to ask. Her brothers were both too young to do this kind of task, and since her mother had to take care of them and her father was usually working, she usually ended up with the out-of-house jobs."
"I fell in love with Erteya. It didn't really matter to me that I didn't seem important to her, almost invisible at times. It took me a long time for me to finally get her to really notice me... And then Dagren moved in. His parents were my family's cooks. He started drawing her away from me again... I didn't like it, Erteya had been the best thing that ever happened to me..."
"I don't remember how it came about, but Dagren found out about my feelings for Erteya. He confronted me about it, and I made him so angry that he attacked me. I... well, I killed him." Korind drew a breath. "I didn't try to. I was just defending myself."
"As you can imagine, I wasn't welcome anymore. Since I was acting in self-defense, I was not executed, only exiled, never supposed to return to this country. You can see that I am slightly evading that edict, but I figure this counts well enough."
Neither Korind nor Voláris spoke. "Who's next?" I asked.
...Thursday, April 10, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 10:58 p.m.
I walked into the forest. The sky was devoid of the
usual sun resembling a ripe fruit, and in the place of
the light we know as "norm," maroon and yellow hues
engulfed the air. I walked through the foliage, feeling
nothing, and walking to an unnamed destination.
Turning my head, I saw lying on the ground a path that
had not been there before. Choosing it as my course I
paced north, with nothing more to guide me than the
soil below my heels.
And there he stood. A man that had a countenance
very much like that of my deceased brother stood
before me, barring my way.
"Let me pass," I parleyed, motioning with my lips
alone. He heard me not, but unsheathed a sword from
a scabbard had not been there before.
"No!" I cried, but he strode several paces forward. He
lifted the blade high into the bi-color sky, but I could
not move from my terror-stricken position. The blade
fell, slowly, like a leaf caught by the wind. My arms
flew up, a foolish thing to do (as they couldst only be
chopped first), and the sword froze where it balanced,
a quarter-cubit from my brow. And the man fell, slain,
his face far from peace and serenity. Slain by magery.
But I was alive.
Turning from the corpse I ran back from where I came,
back to the others, but the harder I ran the harder it
became to run quickly. And between two blinks a
creature, several times my height, rose from the
ground, holding nothing. Again I stood still, and the
blowing wind made no sound. The creature bent over
and stretched out a long talon, prodding my stomach.
"Wake up!"
His voice matched not his features. I felt no pain.
"It's time to eat!"
I fell from the bed, collapsing in a heap of thin cloaks at
the feet of Volaris. She held a long stick of firewood in
her arms, and her hair was bright with dew. "Now!" I
leapt up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. But the
dream would not rub away.
"What are we eating?" I asked, feeling the sudden
need for sustenance.
"Venison stew," Dorian replied as he slowly sipped
from a ladle. The dream echoed in my small mind.
But the cottage that Dorian had brought us to did much
good to heal it. Smells good. Leaping into a chair and
swiping the nearest spoon eagerly I surveyed my
surroundings quickly. Only two beds?
"Hey..." Dorian's voice spoke, the word flowing
throughout the small building. "Thats the master
spoon. Mine." He smiled, and my fear vanished. I could but smile in return, producing
his spoon from my gritty palms.
"Thanks, Kor." Dorian accepted the spoon and rubbed
it expertly on his grey apron. Moving three bowls into
position and dropping two spoons near them, he served
full ladles of soup to the three of us. I was startled as I
saw Volaris closing her eyes and breathing deeply (a
smile!) but I slowly realized that she, although
immortal, could feel pleasure as well as pain. We
began our meal.
"So..." I opened my mouth in an "o." Dorian looked
towards me, nodding for me to continue. Locking eyes
with him, I went on. "Is it time for our stories?" Dorian
smiled broadly.
"Yes?" rang the elven voice of Volaris.
...Tuesday, April 8, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 10:46 a.m.
Wait... what am I doing... It was foolishness beyond my capacity to go following some mortal at his call,
but since I had nothing much to live on besides the encouragement of a little boy, there weren't many other options. I observed the archer's every move, stiffening every time he made a motion that didn't seem right, watching for any sort of signal, waiting for some undesirable ambush.
To my amusement, I felt akwardness building up as no one had spoken for a while. Finally the archer turned and said, "Alright. I'm Dorian." He held out his hand, which the other mortal shook after a moment of staring at it. "It looks like you guys aren't on the side of the throne, so we must be allies, right?"
"That depends," I said, gazing into his eyes and trying to dicern his intent. He shifted and spoke in a slightly different tone.
"Yes. Okay. I'm sure we all have a story, and I shall tell mine first when we get to my home. But, uh..."
"My name's Korind," the boy blurted out. "From the village of
Ilodin--it got enslaved. And she--" he pointed at me "--came to save us. I mean--she saved me. There was a whole bunch of soldiers and a lot of killing. And I'm a mage! Eh... I think."
"You may call me Voláris," I said. The two nodded.
The walk resumed, and at a certain point I noticed that Dorian was sniffing the air.
"Something's wrong," he said. We came into a clearing in which a small house had been built, and I felt my sword whip out as I prepared to attack.
"You're being raided."
Four large men on horses had been entering the house, but they saw us and shouted in a language that I did not understand. One immeadiately took an arrow in the belly. Another charged toward me, and as I tried to see what was happening to the others, he gained the upper hand, chasing me back into the woods, where I regained my stance and-- as he swung his large axe at me, I ducked, pulled myself up onto the saddle and sliced off his head.
Mm. I need to wash this shirt.
I returned to the clearing, where the other raiders lay dead. Dorian was sitting with his head bowed as if exhausted, and Korind looked pale.
"I--I killed one," Korind gasped, eyes wide. "What--I mean, how..."
"You'll just have to learn," I said, turning away. Dorian raised his head and spoke, "It is true. But you are young...and killing is a terrible thing. You will never be the same."
...Monday, April 7, 2003 \\
Dorian \\ 08:17 p.m.
Birds chirping. Wind blowing. One squirrel chasing another between trees.
All normal, all expected. Same as always.
What wasn't the same was the strange smell now wafting towards me from the castle. I had smelled it before, once only, but that was enough. Once before...
Running through the trees, I followed the smell. At the last tree before the castle walls, I stopped and climbed, setting an arrow in my bow just in case. Distant conversation, too quiet to be understood even by my ears, wafted from a doorway into the prison.
Soon, an elvish girl and a mortal boy emerged, running, from the prison door. Close behind them was a small group of bowmen, who began firing. I released my own arrow, and drew another as I watched the first lodge itself into an archer's arm. He yelled some curse as he retreated, allowing his fellow marksmen to take over. My second shot struck dead center in another archer's chest, and the third grazed a wrist somewhere in the group. My aim suffered as I tried to release as many shots as possible.
By now the boy and girl were well outside the wall, leaving the gatekeepers lying in ruins near their post. So that's who was causing the scent... Such destruction could not possibly go unnoticed. Especially by me. I know destruction, how it smells, how it tastes.
What it feels like to cause it.
The two escapees were running my direction. Good. Wait, wait... Timing my drop, I landed directly in front of them, causing them to slide to a stop. The boy slipped on some leaves and fell. Apparently he was scared of me; he pushed himself backwards when extended my hand to help him up.
"Very well then," I said, coming back up to full height. I carefully surveyed the elf-girl. She looked young, but I knew she was at least a millennia in age. Her dagger-sheath was empty, and she had still not returned her sword to it's scabbard. She also seemed wary of me, holding her weapon up in a defensive stance, but only half-heartedly. I didn't know what they were doing, or whose side they were on, but I decided to help.
"Follow me," I said, trudging through the bushes in the direction of my nearest home. I heard the boy get up and come after me, but had to glance over my shoulder to be sure the elf-girl was coming. Her short, rolling strides barely made a sound, even on the leaves and twigs of these old woods.
By now my house was not far away... I could only hope that my instant trust in these two strangers was well-placed...
...Friday, March 21, 2003 \\
Korind \\ 06:47 p.m.
"Ah..." It was so good to finally get my business done with a little privacy. A loud series of cries and clashes had my robe down to the floor and my head up in a minute. Wiping my hands quickly I peered around the corner slowly. No... now where did I get seperated from the crowd? Skip down this way... poor worn out uni-foot shoes... hm might as well go this way... the battle sounds are louder this way...
Oi! They've stopped screaming. I ran down one last passageway and came to a large room with dead bodies strewn about the floor, one lone elven girl kneeling in the midst of them, (clasping with both hands a dagger encased in drying blood), and a half score or so of other dead bodies.
"What are you doing?" I asked to the loner. "Did these people die?" Her bluish-green eyes rolled slowly upwards to meet mine, and then back down to the dagger, now turned inwards to her heart.
"Hey, thats not really safe," I said with a small breath.
"Could you..." [pause] "Put that knifette away?" The elf scoffed and moved the knife nearer to her torso (in fact, it may have touched it, however my view was limiting.)
"I have failed," spoke the elf, moving her mouth slowly, as if she was fain to move them. Before I could speak, she continued: "I have failed my assignment; there is nothing else for me to do.
"Not completely failed," I claimed, claiming to know her assignment, "For you have saved me!" I beamed brightly, but her coldness froze the light in my face. "At least you've saved one..." I spoke these words slowly and softly, and stepping towards her. "One itio." I finished with a small grimace.
She smiled slightly for the first time, drew the dagger away from her chest with both hands, and I smiled in return, feeling my face return to normality. Her face dropped to a lightning quick frown, and the dagger flew to meet her heart.
"Gah!" I yelled. My hands shot forwards, power surged through my arms, a wisp traveled through the air, and... The elf stopped her hands near to her heart, popping her eyes open and cocking her head suddenly at the 5/6th of the blade, which remained out of her immortal personage. The elf cried out, flinging what was left of the knife into a nearby corpse.
"Hm," I said, "That was..." Seeing the anger in her eyes I quickly changed my tone. "SORRY, I had to!!" I threw myself onto the ground and groveled before a dead body. She glared at the back of my head.
"You can cast a heat spell?" She spoke. I looked up with my mouth in an apologetic "O". [Nod, nod.]
"Then I have use, slight success, and..." She glared at me with a smile. "I also am retaining life. Let us go!" With a drawn sword she raced out, and on my tired legs I followed.
"Will all those bodies keep until they are buried?" I asked the elf lady (not girl, for now I noticed that she bested my age probably by a thousand years). She ignored my question for the moment and slew two guards who were facing outwards at the door. I sucked my breath in at the abruptness of two real-time deaths, but continued to follow her out.
"No," she cried (in response to my question), "But run!" A troop of bowmen appeared at the door that we had just ran out of and the first bowstring twanged just as we reached the edge of the forest. An answering bowstring sounded from over our heads (in the trees) and slew a cursing bowman.
...Thursday, March 20, 2003 \\
Voláris \\ 10:29 a.m.
With one hand tightly wrapped around the hilt of my long elven dagger and the other grasping a blood splattered map, I crept noiselessly into the first of the hated maze of slave chambers, glancing right and left and trying not to breath so heavily. The guards of the throne were not to be merciful to a lone elf walking through the prisons, especially one who had just killed four of them.
Stepping down some stairs and into a dark and narrow corridor, I began to hear voices echoing on the stone walls. As I peeked around a corner, I saw three large doors; desolate looking humans were gazing through iron bars across their small square openings. The map showed only one door. Which door should I open first? I rushed into full view and stuck my dagger into the lock of the door on the left, replaying in my mind the words spoken to the warriors by the elven council--"...as many as according to your ability... restore justice to the land..."
A group of guards walked through the corridor and into the small chamber in which I stood, frustrated and distraught as I tried to force the lock. There was a single silver moment in which I stared at them and they, me. It was broken all too soon as I watched them, as from some distant land, charging toward the young elf girl. Charging toward me. Seven--no, eight of them, with spears. The warrior's instinct rose up in me as I mindlessly blocked-- kunk-clank-kunk-- three steel points and dodged-- to the right-back-duck-- others. Cries from the humans in the cells, shouts from the guards. A blind stab here and a swing there. And suddenly everything was still, and all I could think was that I had lost my map.
Aiyah. With a sigh I wiped blood off my face.
"Shhh... don't speak... I will get you out of here." I led the frightened people from the cell on the left out into the corridor, cursing those from the other cells that cried out for me. When I arrived at a larger chamber I looked back at the small crowd that followed me. Gaunt men and women, some children... "silence,
itio!" ...a funny looking lad wearing a cap joking and laughing much too loudly. We eventually came across two openings. I knew one of them led outside. The other could lead to anywhere...
Down the right corrider we walked, and after a few moments we saw light coming from a large chamber. And suddenly it happened. Fear, like an inevitable draft, washed over me; I stood as a pillar of stone watching an entire order of the throne's soldiers, at least fifty in number and armed, advance toward me and my small party of prisoners. They shouted, broke into a run...
My head ached as never before. The pain felt there, however, was nothing compared to the first stab of pain I felt when I opened my eyes to survey the aftermath. Blood-covered bodies and severed limbs lay everywhere, giving a grotesque stench to the chamber and staining large portions of the ground deep red. I even recognized some of the prisoners I had just freed. Not a single one of them, soldiers or prisoners, was left breathing.
How could I have failed to this degree? How could I possibly return now? What other option did I have besides to...
