Sacrifice of Ericc

by Anthony G. Wedgeworth

Traveling southeast, the mist-covered terrain abruptly changed back to sunbaked Volney Lake, west of the Shi’Pel Mountains. A thin strip of short bluffs along the shores remained fresh with life. They followed this shoreline oasis for most of the day until they noticed an abandoned cliff-dwelling settlement.

  Several shacks were built up against the smooth rock-faced bluffs overlooking Ki’Volney Lake. Randomly placed on the short bluff, all were the size of one-room homes without paths or ladders to get to them.

  Only one of the shacks rested by the bottom of the bluff, so the group investigated it.

  “I know this place.” Ericc was astonished at the sight. Running up to the lowest door, he looked back at Thorik with a wide smile. “This is my home.”

  “Too small for Ambrosius,” Santorray replied.

  Thorik walked up to the door, next to Ericc. “You remember living here?”

  “Vaguely. It’s been eight years, but I do recall that symbol.” Ericc pointed to the bluff wall near the shack. Three overlapping circles, each with a single rune within it, were etched into the rock. “My father designed that to represent my parents and myself. I remember him teaching me that all would be safe when I found this symbol.”

  “Apparently he was wrong,” Santorray said.

  Pushing the door open, a large dust covered room was revealed. The shack walls were nothing more than a façade for an enormous home carved out of the bluff itself.

  The large round room domed up to the center. Thick roots from trees on the bluff working their way down the walls and into the floor. Etched out shelves provided locations for art, which now lay broken on the floor. Furniture lay askew and dormant from the attack, which once terrorized Ericc and his mother.

  Several hallways exited the room, all with stairs leading up to reach the other shacks they had seen wedged onto the bluff.

  “This is where I grew up.” Ericc moved about as fragments of memories flashed in his head. “Mother was working in the kitchen when they attacked. I was here when the door was kicked in. They grabbed my mother and dragged her out of the house kicking and screaming. I never saw her again.”

  Thorik stood near Ericc and tried to envision the horror of a child’s view of the crime. “What happened to you?”

  “They grabbed me and tied me up. We traveled for days on Notarian roads and bridges before they took me up the mountain.”

  “What mountain?”

  “Shi’Pel.”

  “Why?”

  “To bring me to Surod.”

  “Surod?”

  “Yes, it’s halfway up the mountain, in the Go’ta Gorge.”

  Thorik turned and stormed out of the house, straight up to Santorray. “This is your idea of a safe place? Within sight of the very mountain where Darkmere plans to sacrifice Ericc?”

  “Yes.” The Blothrud didn’t blink an eye.

  Thorik didn’t plan on such a casual response as the Blothrud eyed Ericc standing in the doorway watching the confrontation.

  Santorray leaned over and dipped a cloth into the lake. He was tending to his wounds again which were scarring over nicely. “Thorik, Ericc can’t be on the run his whole life. He’d never be able to trust anyone for fear that they would turn him over to Darkmere.”

  “What’s his other option, confront him?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Are you crazy? Have you ever met Darkmere? He has powers we can’t even begin to understand. He can change the air into fire or poison. He can manipulate the form of his body, and alter the makeup of those he touches.”

  “Yes, I’ve met him. And yes, he is powerful.”

  Ericc stepped closer. “So are we. Santorray is a great fighter and Grewen has strength. Thorik, you have the Spear of Rummon and I have some powers myself.”

  Avanda refused to be left out. “My magic can help.”

  “No,” Thorik and Brimmelle said in unison.

  Ericc wasn’t backing down. “Thorik, you may have saved me, but you are sentencing me to a lifetime of hiding. I’m going with Santorray to take care of this once and for all.”

  Thorik looked to Grewen for advice. “And will you be traveling with Ericc to his death?”

  “I told you I would do whatever I could to protect him from this fate. It would be very hard to do that from down here when he is on the mountain.”

  Thorik looked around for support only to find Brimmelle on his side. Gluic’s grin told him that she was waiting for him to decide his own fate. “This is wrong. You’re walking into a trap,” Thorik announced.

  Brimmelle wrapped his arms tight across his chest. “This is the end of the line, where the Nums and the Altereds separate. It is time for us to go home. We can do no more.”

  Thorik panned from Fir Brimmelle to Grewen. “I have to agree with Brimmelle. I’ve done everything I can to save Ericc as promised. But I cannot willingly go into what I believe is a trap when we have other options.” Thorik’s eyes swelled with water as he looked at Grewen’s face. “No matter how hard I try, I cannot save someone who does not wish to be saved. This is where our journey ends and we must part ways.”

  “So be it.” Santorray wrapped up his chest injuries. “You will be safe traveling along the shoreline to Eastland. Blend into the crowd and get transportation to Woodlen. I’ve never met a Num with a heart of a Blothrud before I met you. Never lose that quality.” Spitting in his hand, he held it out to Thorik who spit in his own hand and slapped the two together.

  Ericc collected his items before walking over to Thorik. “You honored my father’s wishes. I give you credit for that. Remember him fondly; you were the son to him which I always wanted to be.”

  Grewen watched the first two begin their walk toward the mountain. “Thorik.”

  “Grewen, no, please don’t go.” Thorik’s heart pounded hard against his tense chest and his voice cracked from emotion. “I lost you once and it about killed me. I can’t lose you again.”

  Grewen’s smile warmed the Num’s heart as it always did. “Little man, you have your own journey and life ahead of you. You must do what feels right and then live with the ramifications of those actions. This feels right to me, but it’s okay that it doesn’t for you.”

  Thorik wiped his eyes. “I’ll go if you tell me to.”

  “I would never do such a thing. Even with these broad shoulders, I can’t carry that much weight of responsibility. You know that.”

  “At least tell me if I’m making a mistake.”

  “Only time can tell that.” Grewen lifted the Num up for a final hug. “It takes courage to do what you feel is right, especially when those you love don’t support you.”

  Setting Thorik back down he waved at the group. “Goodbye, my friends. Safe journey home.”

  Thorik stood motionless as he watched Grewen turn and walk away, slowly catching up with the other two heading for their potential end.

  “I’m going with them,” Avanda finally said, running past Thorik.

  But it was short lived as Thorik grabbed her, stopping her escape. “Avanda, this is not your fight. We’ve done our part.”

  “You’ve done yours, I haven’t done mine. I’m finally starting to understand how to use my magic. I can help.”

  “I know you can, but it’s over. We promised to save Ericc and we did just that with your help. Now it’s time for us to go home. We can’t spend the rest of our lives watching after him.”

  “He’s part of our family, now. It’s our responsibility to be there for him when he needs us most.”

  “Sometimes you have to let go of family to let them travel on their own path and do things you don’t believe in.”

  Disappointed, Avanda stood with Thorik and watched their friends disappear over the first hill.

  It was over and it was time to make plans to return to Farbank. In some way it was a relief to know they were going home. If they hurried they could be there in time for the sounds, smells and tastes of the harvest festival and all the food and contests that went al
ong with it.

  It felt good to return home after doing what they had set out to do and more so.

  Thorik thought deeply about how much he missed his cottage and the people of his village, as he set up Ambrosius’ old house for the night. It was nice to be inside again with shelves to stack items and chairs to sit on. He forgot how much he missed the little things.

  After his chores were done, Thorik sat down and pulled out his coffer of maps and notes. “It’s been a long journey,” he muttered at the drawings as he reminisced before adding new notes.

  Thorik’s Log: June 15th of the 650th year, Ericc leaves his parents abandoned home near Lagona Falls as a free man. No longer a captive of men or beasts, he travels to confront his enemy in the temple of Surod. He leaves with Santorray and Grewen, but not me. It is time for us to return home, to Farbank, for I cannot save someone who does not wish to be saved.

  As he neatly straightened up his papers and returned them back in their wooden case, Gluic walked into the house.

  “It feels good to give up the fight and just rest,” she said peacefully as she walked past him.

  Thorik was shocked at the comment. “Granna, I’m not giving up. I saved Ericc from being captured. I did what I set out to do.”

  She nodded at his words as she started to dig in his sack of Runestones. “Yes, you are right. You only promised to free him, not to save him from his plight.”

  His shoulder’s raised at the underlined sarcasm. “I can’t prevent him from going to Surod at some point in his life, I can’t stop Santorray and Grewen from helping him, I can’t stop the Eve of Light from occurring each year, and I can’t stop Darkmere from hunting him down. I’m only one Num, a small one at that, without even a soul-marking for respect.”

  “And that is why you do not have them.”

  “What?”

  “Dear grandson, you show great courage when under stress. But when you have time to plan, your faith in yourself falls behind all others.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Would you travel up that mountain if Ambrosius where here with you?”

  Thorik straightened up. “Of course. We would stand a chance with him at our side.”

  “So, it is only worth fighting for a good cause if you are guaranteed a victory.”

  “No…but it is foolish to walk into a trap even for a good cause.”

  “Isn’t that what Ambrosius did?”

  Thorik realized that she was correct. Ambrosius sacrificed himself to save many, even though he knew he was entering a trap. “I just wish I was something more than what I am. I have no powers or strength to achieve such a lofty goal.”

  Gluic walked back to the table and set his Runestones of Belief on the table in front of him. “Physical strength and magical powers are no match for someone who never gives up and continues to believe in himself. It is the will to succeed and a relentless drive to accomplish that which makes the difference in this world, not the birthright of power.”

  Thorik held the Runestone in his palm and stared at it while absorbing her words. “Granna, Ambrosius once told me that I was special and that I reminded him of the Mountain King. I guess I secretly hoped to find out that I’m a descendent of the King himself.”

  “If you were, would you suddenly have more belief and faith in yourself?”

  “I would be prouder.” He took in a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Yes, I would have more faith in myself. Tell me, Granna. Am I his heir?”

  “Thorik, you are not the offspring of any nobleman or king. And your pride should come from within, regardless of such. You are Thorik Dain, the one who prevented the great flood, the one who rescued Ericc from Corrock, the one who stood up to much stronger men when they attempted to lead us, and the one whose desire to do good overshadows his own well-being. I am very proud to be your grandmother. It is about time you start being proud of who you’ve become. It is this conflict within you that prevents your soul-markings from showing themselves.”

  “But Granna, I was happy when I lived in Farbank. Why didn’t the soul-markings show then?”

  “You were content to pacify Brimmelle and the other villagers. You haven’t been proud of yourself since your parent’s deaths, which happened just before your markings were to show themselves. Ever since then you have questioned every decision you have ever made instead of doing what you know is right and being proud of yourself for doing it.”

  Thorik was silent as she left the table and walked to the front door, holding it for Brimmelle as he entered the home carrying firewood. Closing the door behind her, she left Thorik to do some thinking.

  Brimmelle walked to the fireplace. “It’s about time you came to your senses and let these humans and Altereds work out their own problems. I can’t wait until we get back to the comfort of our own village.”

  “I’m not going back yet. I need to help Ericc get past this point in his life. No one should have to live in fear of being seen alive.”

  Fir Brimmelle dropped his wood hard to the floor. “Oh no you don’t! We agreed to let them go. We’ve done our part.”

  “Yes, you’ve done your part. You need to take Gluic and Avanda back to Farbank. I must catch up with Ericc to help him.”

  “You? What can you possible do to help them? You’ll be stomped on.”

  “I will do whatever it takes to succeed.”

  “Against Darkmere?”

  “If he is there, yes.”

  Brimmelle walked over and grabbed his Sec by the collar with one hand while pointing harshly at Thorik’s face with the other. “You listen to me. We are done with this.”

  Thorik took the Fir’s wrist and pushed his arm away, freeing himself. “No, I’m not.”

  “What are you trying to prove?”

  “Nothing. I believe I can make a difference, and Ericc needs me.”

  “If you leave, I’m done with you. You will no longer be a Sec of Farbank.”

  “If that is your decision, than I accept it.”

  “If you leave and die up on that mountain, you’ll make your mother’s death worth nothing. She will have sacrificed her own life for you, and you will repay her by just tossing it away. How can you disrespect her in this futile attempt?”

  Thorik moved his Runestone into the exact center on the surface of his coffer, tweaking the rotation to make it perfectly align with the box’s corners as he thought how to respond. “It is because she gave up her life for me that I know I must use every ounce of my being to make this world a better place and to do what I believe is right.”

  Brimmelle turned his back to the boy in anger, before tossing logs into the fireplace. “You’re not taking Avanda, under any circumstance. I’ve watched her and know she has deep feelings for you, but this is not up for a debate.”

  Thorik knew he was done discussing it. “Agreed. But I do need to tell her that I will be leaving without her. Is she still upset from our argument earlier?”

  Brimmelle brushed his hands clean from the wood bark. “I don’t know, I haven’t seen her.”

  “Wasn’t she outside helping you?”

  “No, I thought she was in here with you.”

  Thorik instantly became anxious and uncomfortable. “You don’t think she went after them, do you?”

  “She wouldn’t dare.” Brimmelle raced out the front door to confirm his doubts.

  Thorik ran upstairs, only to find it empty. Leaning out one of the upper windows, he could see Brimmelle ask Gluic where Avanda was. Gluic pointed down the path where Grewen, Santorray and Ericc had traveled.

  The path was empty and it would be dark soon. Their only chance to catch up with her and the others was to start fresh in the morning and hope Grewen kept a slow pace.

  Brimmelle stared down the lonely path in disbelief. “Mother, when did she leave?”

  “A few hours ago. Right after Ericc and the others left,” Gluic said very casually. “I guess that means we’ll be going after her.”

  “Why didn’t
you stop her, or tell us that she had left?” Brimmelle asked in frustration.

  A devious grin grew on her face. “I’m sorry dear, but as you requested back in Southwind, I’m not going to mediate your problems anymore.”

  Chapter 37

  Road to Go’ta Gorge