The Stones of Magic

by A.W.Chrystalis

  Chapter 18

  Mach slipped in and out of consciousness. Everything was a blur, even in his dreams. Several times he had thought he heard voices, some screaming, some whispering. There was none that he could understand or recognize. He thought he heard someone apologizing, though he was never sure what for.

  All that was familiar was the pain. His head felt like it had been split in two and his arm was aflame once again. The few times he woke, or that he thought he had awoken, he had tried to look around only to find that he could not see. Only the blackness was present. It was at those times nausea would sweep over him and he would pass out again, returning once more to that awful state between dream and reality.

  He dreamed vividly, mostly about his life before things began to turn wrong. Like the time when he was six before his father had died. Back then, he had tried to catch and tame a fox as a pet. His mother had thought it foolish, but his father had thought it fun. He had gotten the idea from one of the sailors that his father occasionally sailed with. They would gather at the inn's hall and tell stories about far off lands and their strange and mysterious customs.

  He dreamed about the first time his father had taken him to Madtu, the village that Bastra and his kin resided in. It was one of the few villages built and fully inhabited by his race and so it was overflowing with their culture. He had found the presence of Gargoyles frightening at first, as most did. After receiving the first shock of seeing winged Humans walking about, with their huge bodies and stony skinned features, Mach began to enjoy all the different things and people around him.

  After that first visit, he found himself sneaking out for treks through the forest just to head back up the mountain to visit Madtu. He often got into trouble for such escapades but they were always well worth it. The things he saw and the people he met always made such trips a joy.

  He found himself standing on a ship he did not recognize. Bastra was there, as was Mendoll, both of whom looked far younger than they did now. The ship was clamoring with the shouts and footsteps of the sailors as they dashed from one spot to another, each one following the orders of the Captain who stood at the helm. Off in the distance, another ship was approaching, and it was at least three times larger than their own. Panic took control of every cell in his body and he had no clue as to why.

  He looked over at the Captain. He could not hear the words that came from the Captain’s mouth, but he thought he knew why that mouth was moving vigorously. One word escaped from the captain’s lips, a word that he instantly recognized just by the way the man’s lips formed the word and it made him tremble with fear. Rubious.

  Everything changed around him in a swirling grey mist. As it dissipated, he stood at the bedside of a man whose hair was coal black, dank and wet from sweat. The room was lit by only a few candles but even then, he could see the blood stains all over his clothing and the bright red liquid pouring freshly out of various wounds in his body. If his limited knowledge of wounds was correct, this man was not long for death. Green-robed Healers bustled around him. Herbs were placed under bandages, Healing Mages were casting spells and there were even one or two that were attempting to realign the bones of a broken leg. Several times he witnessed the man swing at one of the healers, screaming and writhing in pain.

  More than a few of the healers around the bed looked as though they did not want to be there. As though they were willing to let the man suffer or even die. He thought that was both interesting and terrifying. No healer he had ever heard of had ever been of the mind to let someone suffer. After all, it was the healers duty to improve the quality of any lives they came into contact with.

  The man sat straight up and for a moment, the candle light lit his face. Mach gasped in surprise at the sight of Rubious. His face was purple with bruises and his left eye was swollen shut. The man’s left arm was in an odd position, like it had been ripped off and hastily pasted back on by a child. Anger swelled in him at the sight of Rubious alive. He wanted to lash out and strike the man dead where he sat. The King of Sirunre looked right at him, as though he knew the boy was there. Mach stared back at him, trying with all his might to show the man he was watching. To put fear into the damned king, a fear that would hopefully torment the man.

  He gasped suddenly and he cringed as his body was suddenly seized with pain. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, praying it would end quickly. Slowly, he reopened them and saw bright lights around him. He was laying in a bed as soft and comfortable as he remembered his own being. The room even looked vaguely familiar. Perhaps he really was back home in his own bedroom and nothing had ever happened. He prayed for that to be true, that everything he had gone through over the last few weeks was all a dream and he was still waiting for the merchants to come to dock that morning. He moved his head carefully and looked about. A twinge of pain was all he felt from his head, though his shoulder still hurt like hell.

  He saw a fire burning merrily in the fireplace, its heat warming the room nicely. How nice it felt to have a vigorous fire welcome him back to reality, or maybe this was yet another dream. What he had taken as bright lights was merely the firelight reflecting off the ceiling and now that his eyes had adjusted to the flickering glow of the fire, it was not at all as bright as he had originally thought.

  He turned his head the other way to find a man sitting in a chair beside him. His head lay on his chest, which was gently rising and falling with deep, restful breaths. It was not Sehto, no, the tracker was not this large. This man was extremely well built and that was an understatement of his description. He could probably wrestle with a gargoyle and if he did not win, he most definitely would not lose easily. Scraggly, matted hair around his chin indicated that he had not shaved or trimmed his beard for a long while. He looked so familiar.

  Dizziness overtook him again and he closed his eyes and fell asleep once again. Thoughts floated around in his mind as he dreamed. He thought of the Guardians. They inspired awe into the very core of his heart, fearless and powerful as they were there was a kindness to them that was deeply rooted. Powerful beyond his understanding. But what about Mendoll and Bastra? Were they not called Guardians as well? Had their king not called them by that title when he and Bastra first came to Eldour?

  He woke as a damp cloth was gently pressed against his head, the cool cloth refreshing his skin and clearing his mind at the same time. His vision blurred slightly as he opened his eyes, but as he stared up the outline of a man came into view and he moaned slightly.

  “You finally awake, lad?” That voice was familiar but he could not think of who it was. “Go and get lord Mendoll. Let him and the others know the boy is awake. Can you sit up?” He heard the sound of heavy boots running from the room as he tried to raise his head. The exertion proved to be too much for his poor battered body, and only resulted in him gasping for breath and a painful reminder through his skull that he was nowhere near fully healed.

  “That is fine, lad. They said you might not be able to do even that. You! Come here and help me sit him up. Place those pillows behind him. And watch for those bandages, I can only imagine the pain they must be causing him.”

  Three pairs of hands lifted his upper body and slid him back against a small mountain of pillows. His head swam seemed to spin on his shoulders as he panted for air. “Give it a few moments, Mach. When you feel up to it, I got something for you to eat. Should go down easy enough with all the herbs that were put in it.”

  It took time before he felt like attempting to eat. Someone handed him a bowl of warm food but because his strength and sight had still not returned, it took him a while to feed himself. Several people offered to help him but he felt bad enough about burdening whoever these people were. The soup was bland but also oddly filling. It slid down his throat with ease and even did a little something for his pain.

  “Just eat what you can, don't worry about finishing it,” The familiar voice said. Mach began digging through his memories to try to remember who that voice belonged to.
Before he knew it, he had wolfed down the entire bowl of soup and tossed the spoon down with a clang. As if the sound was a signal for arrival, Mendoll entered at that moment with a small entourage of people. His sight was still blurry but he could make out the white of Mendoll’s robes and the reddish brown of Sehto’s clothing.

  “Thank the gods above and below, lad. I thought you dead for sure this time,” Sehto stated bluntly, “you're as resilient as your father, I tell you.” Mach appreciated the comparison but he could not express how he felt as his head throbbed violently.

  “Let's leave those thoughts for another time,” he heard Bastra say, as a massive form ducked its way under the doorway. What a sight this was. As he heard the light steps of Miatsu entering the room, his heart swelled with gratitude. They had all come to check on him. His family may be gone, but here were people that cared for him enough to come and visit him even in the middle of their urgent search for the Stones. These were people who did not really know him nor should they care enough about him to care whether he was safe or not. But here they were, standing by his bedside. All of them smiling at him as if he were part of their family. He felt lighter in his soul than he could remember feeling in the last few weeks.

  “Mach, what do you remember?” Mendoll asked softly.

  “Well, I remember...” Mach trailed off. His memories felt like a puzzle at the moment. There were things that were as clear as day. For a moment he was worried over how fragmented some of his thoughts were. He felt like the words were right there in front of him, that he only need to reach out and grasp them and he would be able to think straight. “We're searching for the Stones, right? We got one,… but still have the three to get…… Three more to find as well.”

  “Don't force it, lad. Just let it come to you.” Sehto said encouragingly.

  His head throbbed badly for a moment. “We ran into Rubious. Then you all got me out of there and...” The fuzziness in his mind seemed to clear as he forced himself to relax a bit. “Then we reached Selane and we were attacked by someone. What happened afterwards?”

  A voice near the door reminded Mach of what had happened earlier. He had thought he recognized it as the same voice of the man who attacked them. It also belonged to someone Mach thought he would never see again. “That would be my doing, son. Sorry 'bout the head and the arm. In my defense, I thought you were some of them bastards coming back for more.” George stood in the doorframe, his clothing covered in dirt, as was his matted hair. Tears sprang into Mach’s eyes as he stared unblinkingly at the blacksmith.

  “It wasn't 'til Sehto here clubbed me that I realized who you all were,” George added sheepishly. He looked down at the floor apologetically. “Then when I took a closer look at you, hell I nearly kicked my own ass.”

  He was so full of questions. He didn't know where to begin since there was so much to be asked, but his mouth didn't seem to want to cooperate with his mind. “What happened to you, George?” Mach blurted. “The last thing I saw of you was you running to the docks. Where are we now?”

  “Tell you later, alright. Your Healer says you got a few days in here at least. Says you need a little rest before you head out again.”

  “How long have I been out?” Mach asked.

  “Four days now,” Mendoll answered. “Cracked skull and that wound Rubious gave you was also slit open again. We took the liberty of closing it again while you were out. You do need to take it easy for a while. Eat and get your strength back before you leave, alright.”

  Mendoll and Bastra left with Sehto, leaving Mach alone with George and Miatsu. George smiled proudly at Mach. “You got better, lad. Your fighting skills, I mean. Never thought you would be capable of being a fighter like your old man. This ain't no empty compliment, son. I meant to kill when I struck at you. Like I said, I thought you were the bastards that attacked us coming back for more.”

  He looked imploringly at the blacksmith. “George, tell me what happened. I want to know everything you can tell me.”

  It took a while for George to answer, he seemed to recall each moment a little at a time. When he spoke, Mach could tell that his words were carefully chosen. “There was no winning for our side. When you ran off, which was right of you to do so, I went straight to Norm's shop. Well, you know Norm ain't no coward, but neither is he stupid. I get there and he is already outside looking out at the bay. I told him that he needed to either come with me or run for the hills. Either way he would need to get his blade from his shop.

  “As you can imagine, Norm was never much of a soldier so he left town, pulling several people with him. Well, a few of the men in town had the same idea I had. Several were already at the docks, heavily armed and ready to defend the town. There were about twenty soldiers on the first ship and they were easy enough to get rid of. Didn’t lose even one of our own. Our victory was short lived. In no time, five more ships were almost crashing into the docks. Each one had enough men on it that we couldn't count 'em all before we were over run. Couldn't even keep track of 'em all. Good thing was, there weren’t any archers aboard. The bastards didn't even slow down all the way. We were overwhelmed within moments when they struck at us. Someone from our side got the idea to use the mortar shells against them ships. I still haven't found who it was, but before we had to flee, three of the ships were aflame from ignited shells.”

  He sat there in amazement, listening to every word that came. This was almost as good as the stories he had heard from the sailors at the inn.

  George continued, anger emanating as he relived the tragic events. “By the time we were overrun, more ships were docking and we were forced to retreat. As we ran away, we realized exactly how we fared. Thirteen men dead, good men each of them, each one braver than any of those bastards. Well, soon enough more of the village had come to our aid. Even old man Jenson was there, though he ended up falling to a blade shortly after. The bastards must have thought us done, they lined up all straight like to greet their master. You should have seen their faces when eighty of us charged out from behind a building. Thought they were going to piss themselves, I did.”

  George looked down at his hands staring, a look that chilled Mach with terror. “Our surprise only lasted a short while, though. What we had failed to notice was their leader was already on the dock. I never would've thought it possible, but I know the man who destroyed our home, Mach. Knew him for a long while now.”

  “Rubious, right,” Mach interrupted. “King Rubious from Sirunre, ruler in Gehnith. I just met him myself. Besides, Mendoll knew it almost right away when I told them at the capital. He seemed to have been expecting it to happen.”

  “Are you serious?” George was furious. His eyes blazed with anger and injustice and the tips of his grimy beard quivered with fury. “They knew this might happen and they did nothing to stop it!”

  “Finish telling me what happened, George. Then I will tell you what happened to me.”

  “Alright,… but I swear if they...” It took a moment for George's breathing to return to its regular rhythm. In the time it took George to calm himself, someone had brought Mach another bowl of the same stew he had eaten earlier. The blacksmith took a deep breath and continued as Mach began eating again without thinking about it. “Where was I... ah yes. That king of theirs started cutting down our men one by one. I saw Nedly fall to a blow that I had only seen once and that was from a Master Swordsman. I was the only one that noticed who it was leading them so I had to call a retreat. Just the simple word sent our guys running. We fled in as many directions as we could. They didn’t follow right away, in fact it seemed that they had orders to search the town first.

  “Not one of them left the village walls for a long while. We stayed out of view in the tree lines ‘til well after night. Most of the guys wanted to wait and see if anyone would come out and follow. As far as we could tell, most of the town had gotten out relatively safe. Most of 'em were waiting just in the boundaries of the woods. Tired and sore as hell, but alive. We rested that nigh
t before heading up the mountain. The night watch informed me when I woke that a small group of the soldiers came out and started a search just outside the town but they never went more than a few hundred feet away from the walls.

  “They never came near our hiding spot so they never knew we were there. Though a few on the watch said they heard something passing by during that first night. Morning came and we started up the hill. By the time we got up there, it was already late in the afternoon. It was interesting though, by the time we got there, them Gargoyles already knew about the attack. No one else had gotten there before us except one young man, which I'm going to assume was you. They already had a group of their fighters ready, two or three hundred worth. And before we could even rest properly, their fighters and our own were marching down the hill to Selane.

  “We got back and most of the soldiers and ships were gone. Only the scavengers remained and we ran them out quickly enough. Ever since then, I've become the unofficial leader here. Even when our king’s men showed up to see what was happening, the guys here looked to me and because of that the newcomers here took that as their cue to follow me as well. We've been trying to rebuild. Like the inn here, this is the largest building and the least damaged so it was first on our list.”

  George’s tale took them into the early afternoon. As he had promised, he explained to George in detail everything that happened after they had parted that day, but decided not to mention the dreams he had been having. Although George might be considered a surrogate father to him and had always been good to him and his mother, he was not sure of how far that loyalty went. George was surprised about several of the things that had happened to him, particularly about them finding the Stones and the Guardians that had kept them safe.

  As the rays of the last sunset began to fade, he finished his tale where George had mistakenly ambushed them. The blacksmith merely chuckled. “Again, I’m sorry about that. Scavengers and the like have been trying to pick this place clean. Takes a hundred men a shift to keep 'em out. Matter of fact, I had to run one off from your place a week ago or so. Seemed to me he knew what he was looking for, though. He was in and out before I even got to him. Maybe he saw me coming and ran for it, or maybe he thought better of it. Whoever he was, he looked like some kind of woodsman with the getup he was wearing.”

  Mach’s hope rose. He knew who that woodsman was. “You didn't happen to see which way he went? Or if he lives nearby? Had he been seen before this?”

  “Sorry lad can't say for sure. I know I have seen him before, but that was years ago. I did follow him, ‘cause I thought maybe he had gotten something, but when I entered the woods after him, he was gone. What was odd, was none of the animals were bothered 'til I came in there. It was almost like he vanished into thin air.”

  “Thanks for trying, George. It's just I think that man may actually know where my mother is. Not like you would think.” He protested quickly as he saw the flare of emotion in the blacksmith’s eyes. “He obviously doesn't know there are Healers here, or he would have brought her here. He's been trying to treat her injuries, I think.” It was too late by the time he realized what he had just said. George’s eyes were calculating and suspicious, but there was a look of recognition as well. However, he did not push the topic and changed it instead.

  George shifted in his seat. “So, what's your next move? Going to continue with these guys?”

  “Not exactly. I need to find my mother. She's somewhere in those woods, I'm sure of it. If I find her, and she's given the right aid, I might rejoin them. But not before. I will spend the rest of my days looking in these woods if I have to.”

  George understood completely and nodded proudly. He could somehow sense Mach’s guilt in running away with Bastra and Mendoll. “Alright lad, if you need anything from our warehouse, all you have to do is ask. I'll tell them now you're to be given anything you need. For now though, rest. The quicker you rest up, the quicker them Healers will let you out of here. And you know as well as I how finicky Healers get about people not sitting on their asses and doing nothing while they heal.”

  He laughed at the truth in George's joke. Even without knowing Mendoll, he knew how the old town Healer had been. Old man Jenson was one to beat a man bloody with a pole rather than to let him move around when he was not supposed to. He laid back in his bed and closed his eyes.

  He was back. Now it was just a matter of time before he found his mother. One way or another, he would find her.