The Sword and the Flame: The Forging

by CP Bialois

  *****

  The three companions crouched at the edge of a clearing to meet the Halfling and mage. Galin, as Dwarves are known to do, grumbled while he wiped his sore, blood covered arm on the grass. “We should’ve washed this off before coming here. Skulking about smelling like ogres will keep your friends away.”

  Gilliam and Berek exchanged glances and then smiled. They knew they smelled bad, they hoped to see the two women before they ran off from the stench. Though Gilliam couldn’t shake the feeling his nephew was in danger due to his abilities, he did force himself to make peace with it and even learned to depend on Berek’s night vision. Any fear he had after seeing Berek’s sword burst into flames vanished when he realized how close he came to losing the one person that may have understood him. They even found a common ground over the grumbling of the Dwarf. While he never knew any Dwarves before, Gilliam accepted the stories about them as fact. As with much he learned over the previous day, those “facts” had been nothing more than irresponsible tales to scare children.

  As funny as it sounded, Gilliam was pleased to have his world turned upside down by his nephew. His faith was stolen by his nephew only to be strengthened by the courage of the young man and the honor shown by the Dwarf. Gilliam dared anyone to speak ill of the Dwarven race to him after what Galin displayed out of friendship and with nothing to gain. His main concern now was how much power did his nephew possess? Unlike other magic users he heard of, Berek needed no spell books or other components to work his magic. The magic seemed to come to him from some other source. Instead of being the instrument the magic was channeled through, Berek became the source of the magic. Thoughts about what could happen if Berek ever lost control and let the magic rule him coursed through the cleric’s mind. Over the years Gilliam heard stories about what happened to magic users that lost control, their end wasn’t pleasant in the slightest.

  Gilliam’s thoughts were interrupted by a rustle in the bushes thirty feet to their left. He reached out, touching Galin’s arm to silence him and glanced at Berek. Whether the young fighter heard or seen something with his night vision Gilliam wasn’t sure, but the smile on his nephew’s face was genuine. “They’re here.”

  *****

  Viola snatched her arm from a branch that decided to take hold of her robe. The resulting rustle of the branches caused Janessa to turn and give her a look of warning causing the young mage to shrug to say sorry. Viola shook her head when Janessa turned away and continued through the forest. It’d been a rough go of it through the forest for her. Viola’s brown robes managed to get snagged on nearly every branch, tripped over vines, brush, and the occasional log nature had to offer. She never experienced that much trouble walking through woods before then. Viola was usually as quiet as an Elf, as the saying went. She convinced herself that the woods were conspiring against her. Just as she decided on that she stepped on the side of a root and fell into a bush.

  Frustrated and angry, Janessa turned around glaring at her. The Halfling fought to keep her voice at a whisper. “You sound like a drunken Goblin! Are you trying to draw attention to us?”

  Viola looked up at her friend with a glare of her own hissing back, “It’s not my fault, someone’s magiked the forest.” She paused as a disgusting smell came to her. From the look on Janessa’s face she smelled it too. “What is that?” Three figures stepped out from their hiding place in answer to Viola’s whispered question.

  “Ogres. We ran into a couple of them.” Berek stepped forward first, his night vision was gone as he didn’t need it with the break in the canopy above them.

  “Ogres?” Janessa’s voice rose both in alarm and out of curiosity.

  Viola’s tone was more controlled, “Are there any more?” She glanced around at the forest half expecting something to leap out at any moment. Like most children, she was told all sorts of stories about them, and like most, she would be happy to never meet one in person.

  “We’re not that unlucky, lass, there were only two.” Galin shook his head, “Damn things smell bad enough when they’re living.”

  Janessa stared at Galin for a moment until she recognized him. “You sold me my dagger.”

  Galin smiled, “Galin Stonehammer, at your service, lass.”

  Janessa watched the three of them in momentary confusion until realizing Galin would want part of the treasure… if they found it. So be it, Janessa thought, he was kind and generous to me. It can’t hurt to repay my gratitude. She was puzzled though, “How’d you get in on this?”

  Galin smiled and glanced at Berek, “Let’s just say, it was a charitable contribution.”

  Gilliam answered their shared questions before they were asked. “We had a disagreement with our former employer.”

  Janessa nodded, “I see.” But she wasn’t sure she did. The sight of the three of them covered in yellow muck, she guessed it was the Ogre’s blood, unnerved her. She recovered, reasoning that if they’d wanted to kill them they could’ve. Janessa was well aware that Viola and she would only stand a chance against one of them, but not all three. The sense of trust she had since they first met was renewed.

  Viola understood their meaning, at least she thought she did. It was as if she were two people, twins so to speak, one being ethereal, guiding her with answers to questions she hadn’t known yet.

  With her confidence restored, Janessa smiled at the three companions. “I guess we’re ready. I found the entrance to the tunnels. It’s in Peasant’s View.”

  “Peasant’s View?” Gilliam thought it was a strange name for a village or town. “I don’t remember any other villages around here.”

  Galin shook his head in astonishment. “First Ogres, then a fool’s errand, and now a haunted town.”

  Berek raised his eyebrows, “You’ve heard of it then?”

  Galin looked at him with an irritated eye, “Aye lad. Mostly stories, if you believe such nonsense.”

  “Oh it’s true, but I haven’t seen any ghosts though.” Janessa smiled. She neglected mentioning she heard strange sounds coming from there from time to time.

  Viola remained silent, she was never one to believe such stories, but all the same her craft dealt with powers that were hard to believe.

  Galin glanced at Gilliam, “If it’s true, I’m glad to have you with us, lad.”

  Gilliam smiled at the Dwarf. Yes, it was true, he was sure of it. During his travels he came across a specter or two but never anything dangerous. “It’s been my experience that they can’t do us harm. Their weapon is fear, conquer that and you conquer them.”

  Viola smiled, though not sure why. She was glad to have a mystic with them to help bolster them against any spirits.

  Berek shook his head with a chuckle, “Ghost stories never bothered me. When do we get started?”

  In answer, Viola pulled a scroll out of a hidden pocket within her robes. “I had hoped to use this. So long as we all keep our minds focused on where we’re going it’ll transport us there.”

  Janessa looked at her a little hurt, “No levitation?”

  Viola smiled; at times her friend could sound like the child she closely resembled. “I don’t like the idea of going back through this forest again.” She didn’t have to say why, the Halfling understood.

  So did another member of their group. Gilliam noticed the smile Berek hid as soon as it appeared. The cleric leaned close to Berek and whispered low enough so no one else could hear him. “Your doing?”

  Berek gave a subtle nod and Gilliam stood straight again. He understood why, smelling like Ogres would’ve scared off anyone unless they were preoccupied. He guessed Berek magiked the forest to torment any magic user since they knew of the mage. Poor girl, Gilliam thought, she didn’t have a clue as to why she’d been tormented so.

  “Everyone come close, we have to be within arms reach of one another for this to work.” Viola opened the scroll and read the phrase several times under her breath to make sure she had it correct. Once she felt the magic swell in her and
the euphoria began she closed the scroll. “Concentrate on Peasant’s View.” She paused a moment to ensure they all obeyed before beginning to recite the spell. When the spell began she heard the Dwarf say something about two magic users in a party being bad luck. Viola remained focused on their destination and felt them being pulled like a string through a funnel while wondering who else the Dwarf had been referring to. Across from her the words of the spell were absorbed into Berek’s mind, in reality into his entire being. He knew another way to cast the spell, though he was curious as to how it was so apparent to him.

  *****

  As the group of five disappeared to begin their journey, a lone elderly figure sat in his room holding a dragon orb. He knew who caused his apprentice to struggle in the forest as well as the young man’s ability that was mostly hidden, even from himself. Mern smiled; here was the one that could be used to further his own agenda. The young man was dangerous, but not to him. No, the aging wizard had no need to fear him, at least not yet. All of those thoughts and revelations Mern kept hidden from his master even as he used the dragon orb to renew his strength. His master watched his every move, read his thoughts except those that remained hidden. Everything was working better than he could’ve hoped; soon his patience would be rewarded.

  Chapter 15

  Thick, imposing darkness greeted the companions as the pocket of magic melted from around them. Each fought the uneasy feeling the spell caused, a nausea similar to seasickness but not as violent. It struck Viola the hardest since she was the source of the spell. She doubled over as her insides fought to escape her. Janessa grabbed her by the arm and tried to steady her. As quick as the feeling struck Viola it was gone.

  “I‘m fine.” Was all Viola could manage to say to her friend. Janessa let her go, her own eyes were filled with worry. Viola straightened , smoothing her robes where she held onto them a moment earlier. After a minute, and a few breaths, she broke the uneasy silence. “I think… there were too many of us. Or…” A shiver ran through her body keeping her from finishing her thought.

  Worried, Janessa cast a glance to Gilliam but the cleric shook his head in answer to her silent question. While he could do nothing for her symptoms, which had already passed, he did step forward until his face was inches from hers. His dark, penetrating eyes locked onto Viola’s attempting to find an answer to his own questions. Satisfied, though not relieved, he turned to the others. “She’s fine, just a little shaken.”

  “Can’t blame the lass there.” Galin’s eyes swept across his line of sight searching for something. “We’re not alone.”

  All of them felt it. The feeling of a thousand eyes locked onto them sent shivers through each of the companions. Only Gilliam seemed immune to it. Something Viola found herself to be envious of at the moment, although she doubted that was the reason for her uncontrolled shiver a moment earlier. Towards the end of the spell she allowed herself to become distracted. Her lack of focus was what made the transportation spell so difficult on them, on her. She could’ve killed them all then and there. They were lucky and she understood that better than the rest. She needed to be certain to concentrate harder the next time, the spells on the scrolls Mern gave her were more advanced than she was used to. The next time she used one… it could kill them all. Her difficult lesson learned, she did her best to ignore the feeling of the spirits.

  Without being heeded, Gilliam stepped forward into the darkness straight and proud. “Have no fear; we’re not here to hurt you.” The feeling surrounding them seemed to lesson but not enough for the companions to stop looking for the one creature they were sure was sneaking up behind them. Gilliam held out his arms to his sides, his robes gave him the appearance of a moth or colorless butterfly. “We seek only safe passage to the tunnels beneath Hope’s walls.”

  “I don’t like this. Give me something I can fight, but ghosts?” Galin’s words sounded hoarse as he whispered them to no one in particular.

  Janessa’s head turned like it was on a swivel. “It was never like this before, never this bad.”

  Berek’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword while he scanned their surroundings with his night vision. At last, he was certain they were being watched by spirits. He didn’t doubt his uncle, he simply didn’t believe in such things until that moment. “They’re feeding on our fear.” Not sure where the realization came from, Berek knew it was the right answer.

  “I don’t mind telling you that I’m not a good dinner guest.” So out of place was Viola’s comment that the others burst into laughter, though it was short lived.

  Gilliam heard every word spoken but he ignored them while praying to Fallor to ease the restlessness of the dead around them. So intent on his prayers, he didn’t seem to notice the young mage’s comment, something she noted with an oath to be like that from that moment forward. For long tense minutes, Gilliam prayed but the restless souls refused to leave. Then, when he wasn‘t expecting it, he felt his prayers answered and his hand being drawn to his mace.

  In a singular motion, he lifted the mace above his head and a brilliant white light burst from it. While not harmful to the shadows, the light did force the spirits back as well as cover all those it touched with a protective barrier against the fear the spirits caused. The companions gathered behind him before he could utter a word for them to do so.

  Gilliam looked over his shoulder, “You know where the entrance is?”

  It took Janessa a moment to realize he was asking her. Lost in the brilliance and wonder at what the cleric had done she nodded. “Yes, behind that building over there.” She pointed to what looked to be a dilapidated warehouse.

  Gilliam nodded, “Stay within the light.” He didn’t need to say anything else; the companions understood and obeyed without hesitation. Without a sound, they made their way towards the warehouse as one. Berek walked the rear guard position, even though nothing was there to threaten them, and kept his eyes scanning through the darkness. Much as his uncle had been surprised by his own abilities, Berek was likewise by his uncle’s. He never would’ve dreamed Gilliam could summon such a thing. Though Berek would’ve been disappointed to hear it, Gilliam didn’t believe it possible himself. In this, Gilliam knew he was merely a vessel for the power to flow through.

  Though the pace set by the cleric was steady, it seemed to take forever and a day to reach the entrance to the tunnels. Each of their steps brought them closer but the weight of the fear caused by the spirits made the distance seem so enormous. As if the spirits hoped Gilliam’s power would fade and they’d feast once more on the companion’s fear, they continued assaulting the barrier of light with each step the companions took.

  Though it was difficult to instill fear in a Halfling, life is one big adventure to them, it can be done. The feat proved easy during an adventure when the rest of their party were already on edge. “Is the light hurting them?” Janessa couldn’t help but ask. Even though they were spirits she felt for them.

  The other companions hadn’t shown the slightest concern for the ghosts of Peasant’s View except for Gilliam. As a cleric of Fallor, it was his duty to heal the living and combat the unholy undead. The dead, however, were subjects of both reverence and sympathy. Some chose to revere them for not wanting to leave their loved ones without a guardian while others held them in sympathy for not letting go and continuing the journey to their next life.

  Gilliam found himself in the middle of the two opinions. He preferred to revere the dead for their lives, be they successful or not, and he held those unable, or unwilling, to rest with deep sympathy. As a cleric of Light he would never do, nor wish harm, on the spirits forever seeking peace. Thus he was surprised by the Halfling’s question. Most others feared the dead, viewing any and all spirits as evil and demonic. Janessa’s concern touched him; perhaps there was a hope for the little thieves after all.

  “No, it doesn’t hurt them. It’s what they’re seeking but are afraid of at the same time.” Gilliam’s response both answered and intrigue
d the Halfling but before she could ask more he froze in place causing her to walk into his back.

  “Bellow’s Fire!” Galin exclaimed, “Have you put us in danger Mystic?” The others halted as the Dwarf’s words burned into their minds, they understood at once what power Gilliam held blazing from his mace.

  Gilliam paused to look at Galin and the others, then back to the brilliant light emanating from his mace. None of them realized until then that the light should’ve blinded them all and been a beacon for the entire city in the darkness with the clouds concealing the full moon above them. Instead, it cast no light on their surroundings. Even they were dark shapes under the protective influence cast about them. It was warm and inviting, but none of them felt drawn or called to it. The light was the comforting arm of a mother around her child, the love of a couple embracing, but it wasn’t for them.

  Gilliam looked back at them with a sad smile. “Galin, we are in no danger as we are alive. The spirits here are enthralled with it, unable to decide on what to do.” He shrugged, “They have given up their hold to this world, but wish to remain. There is no danger in peace.”

  Everyone remained silent for a moment as his words taught them all in some way. Most felt as though they had attended a funeral except it wasn’t a depressed sadness but a warm, comfortable sadness as one experiences after the death of a loved one and looks back on their lives with fondness rather than regret.

  Both Viola and Janessa stood side by side, one comforting the other until Viola spoke, “We’d best get moving.”

  Janessa nodded her agreement as did Galin, “Aye lass, it won’t remain dark for long.”

  Berek rested a hand on Gilliam’s shoulder. “Uncle?”