by Cody Loewen
With a renewed excitement, we begin pouring through the books again, looking for anything useful on the location and identity of powerful magical artifacts. The book I am looking through is full of ancient magical items, with descriptions of them, but I don’t find anything related to the fighting of evil, or these greater beings. Once again, though, Rayfe speaks up.
“I might have found something!” Rayfe exclaims.
“What is it?” I ask, ready to be done with all this reading and on to something less academic.
“Well, this book was written in an ancient elven language that was lost many centuries ago,” Rayfe begins. “But our current common language was built from the combination of this and several other ancient dialects, so I can roughly translate a little bit of it. There is a magical gemstone listed here. I can’t make out much of the information on its powers, but I can make out the word evil. I think it is talking about defeating evil. Something about seeking evil and growing stronger with its defeat.”
“Are you sure that’s what it is saying?”
“I’m pretty sure,” he replies, but I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. “From what I can make out, this gem will make us stronger and is a tool to defeat evil.”
“It’s the only thing we have found so far that might be of any use to us,” I reply. After spending an entire day of reading and researching, the vague information on the gem seems like as good a place as any to start this quest. “If it can really give us power to fight and defeat greater evil beings, then it is exactly what we need. Does it say anything about where to find it?”
“Actually, it does,” Rayfe replies happily. “And I can read it a little better than the other part. It says the gem is guarded by its keeper. It will only be granted to a warrior in time of great need, to help tip the scales of good and evil when necessary.”
“If Kromm really is a greater evil being, then I would say this is a time of need,” I respond, processing this new information. “So, where exactly is this keeper guarding the gem?”
“It says here that the keeper of the gem resides in a palace of stone built into a mountain that touches the sky,” Rayfe reads off a page of his book. “I know of only one mountain that is said to be so tall it appears as if it stretches into the sky.”
Having grown up in my tiny village, and with no knowledge of the world around us besides what I have already experienced since leaving, I rely on him for the knowledge of these places. I look at him, and gesture for him to continue, impatient to know where we need to go from here.
“It is called The Peak of Storms,” he explains patiently. I feel so clueless and helpless, needing him to explain all of this to me, but am thankful that he is willing to help me understand. If I had been paired up with someone at the training grounds who was much less knowledgeable about the world around us, this mission would have been stopped before it started.
“It is a two-week journey on foot northeast of here,” Rayfe continues.
“Great, let’s go right now,” I interrupt excitedly, ready to get this quest underway.
“There is just a small problem,” Rayfe holds up his hand to stop me in my tracks. “Legends say that climbing the mountain is said to be certain death. They say that the cold at the top of the mountain will freeze your blood in your veins, if the beasts that make the peak their home don’t kill you first.”
Rayfe makes note of the stone-cold expression on my face and the determined set of my feet and lets out a laugh. He shakes his head side to side, grinning widely.
“But none of that scares the brave Lykara,” he jokes. “So, your mind is really made up on this journey, then?”
“My goal has not changed,” I reply solemnly. “If this Peak of Storms is where I need to go to be able to kill Kromm, then so be it. And if killing that monster really does keep the balance between good and evil from being disrupted, then I have even more reason to go.”
“Lykara, saver of the world,” Rayfe announces regally, with a grand gesture in my direction, and I let out a laughing snort. I don’t know how he always manages to break through the tension of any situation, but he does. “I guess I would be a sad excuse for a partner if I didn’t brave the terrors of the world with you, wouldn’t I?”
I laugh at the feigned reluctance, closely followed by his signature grin, and we stack the books on the table into a neat pile. Rayfe picks them up and walks them back into the midst of the shelves to return them to their assigned place. This time, I follow, and we move back to Rivka’s desk once more. Rayfe thanks him for all the help, and Rivka wishes us well on our journey. He takes both of our hands one more time, before we turn and exit the library.
“Good fortune,” he says as if he understands the gravity of our path.
At the ground floor of the Mother Tree once more, we emerge back out into the city, where the sun is well into its fall for the night. We spent almost an entire day in the library, and I am just glad that it wasn’t all time wasted.
“Let’s get back home,” Rayfe suggests. “Hopefully, they saved some food for us.”
As we sit at the dinner table talking with Rayfe’s parents, I think once again about what I have lost. No family. No home. No one to be glad that I am there. I glance over at Rayfe and realize that not all of that is true. We share our day’s findings as we eat and discuss the quest we intend to take to find the magical artifact.
Ardon doesn’t speak, but Eliana is not so hesitant.
“Are you sure this is the right path for you?” she asks Rayfe. “We have no record of anyone ever returning from Peak of Storms. Isn’t there another way?”
Rayfe reaches out and takes his mother’s hand, holding her gaze a moment before he speaks.
“I know it will be a perilous journey. I know it doesn’t make sense to go when I have a life waiting here for me. But I also know in my heart that if I don’t do this. If I don’t help Lykara find a way to defeat Kromm, the world will suffer.”
She doesn’t say a word in response, just squeezes his hand.
“Trothenship anyone?” Ardon breaks the heavy silence.
Rayfe laughs at the confusion on my face.
“It’s a game we play in Sylvestra,” he explains. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it quickly enough.”
Rayfe and I play as a single player, so I can learn how it works. Wooden pieces are moved along a game board at the roll of dice and based on strategic decisions of each player. As promised, I start to understand how it all works, and a couple of hours later, the game is over, with Rayfe’s father crowned the winner of the night.
Rayfe’s parents will be on patrol again that night, so we say our goodbyes before we go to bed. We will be leaving for the mountain after we gather supplies for the trip in the morning. Rayfe hugs both of them tightly and assures them that he will be back home when our job was done. I see tears in Eliana’s eyes as she holds her son, finding it hard to let him go so soon after getting him back home. Ardon takes my arm in the ranger greeting once more, wishing me luck and urging me to be careful. Eliana wraps me in a hug. She squeezes me tight before pushing me to arm’s length and giving me an encouraging smile.
Once in bed, I struggle to fall asleep, as thoughts of our impending journey fight to the front of my mind, bringing both excitement and fear. Eventually, I drift away on dreams of magic and mountaintops.
Chapter 16
While I slept soundly, the excitement of the journey before us wakes me early in the morning before the sun has broken the horizon. As expected, Rayfe’s parents are both gone, out in the forest by now on patrol. I quietly move to the table, expecting to wait for Rayfe to wake for a while, but he quickly rises from bed as well and joins me. A yawn escapes his mouth, causing me to yawn as well. I roll my shoulders to loosen them up, stretching my neck from side to side. Rayfe pours two glasses of water from the pitcher in the center of the table, and I gratefully accept the one he offers to me, my throat and mouth dry from sleep.
“Should we get
moving?” Rayfe asks me after he finishes his own water. “We need to pack enough food for the trip, along with some more traveling clothes for the cold weather.”
Anxious to get on the road again, I nod, and we are quickly out the front door of the tree and back outside. We gather bread, dried fruit and cheese in a large bag that Rayfe wears on his back. Rayfe then leads us to another tree-home, where we are provided with extra cloaks, boots, thick socks, and hats and gloves for the climb up the mountain and the numbing cold that comes with it. After filling our waterskins with fresh, cold water, we are ready to be on our way. With his goodbyes already said, Rayfe takes one look back at the city he calls home as we walk out the northern side, and our journey truly begins.
We travel easily through the forest, with no signs of trouble. Several miles from the city, we spot a ranger moving through the forest, keeping watch for any danger. He raises a hand in greeting, but otherwise continues his duties, a silent guardian of his home. We only stop to eat once before we are out of the thick cover of the trees and on a more prominent road, still heading north. To pass the time as we walk, we talk about the journey, our expectations of the mountain and the palace of stone, and the keeper of the gem. We try to picture what this gem will look like and what kind of power it will grant us. We dream about a second chance at a fight with Kromm, equipped with the powers of the artifact. We joke about being famous for saving the world from darkness and certain doom.
With the light load we carry, we travel quickly, covering several miles each hour and arrive at a small town soon before the sun drops below the horizon. I assume we will just pass through and find somewhere to camp on the other side, but Rayfe lets me know that we will be sleeping in the inn for the night. He produces a small bag of coins from inside his cloak to pay for a room, and we find ourselves in a small but clean little room on the second floor, equipped with two beds and nothing else. We wake up rested in the morning and immediately get back on the road, eating our packed food instead of spending more coin on the inn’s food.
After a couple more miles of walking, we reach a large crossroads on the path, where we can turn northeast, the direction we need to be going now. We don’t have a map to follow, but Rayfe seems confident in his abilities to lead us to the right place, and I trust him because he has never steered me wrong so far. After the crossroads, the road opens into a much larger highway, large enough for three carts to be driven side by side, and the journey becomes even easier. We repeat the routine of traveling during the day, covering as much ground as possible on the road, and stopping to eat when we need to. Each night, we walk until we reach an inn to stay in for the night, resting up before repeating it all the next day.
A week into our journey, Rayfe informs me that the towns are going to be getting fewer and farther between from now on, and that we will need to restock our food stores at the next town because we won’t get another chance for a while. I can feel the cold gathering in the air as we travel north, and we are both forced to don an extra layer of clothing to combat the chill. The road remains wide and smooth, though, so the travel stays fast and easy. On the tenth day, the infamous mountain comes into view. With four days of travel left, according to Rayfe, the distance to the great peak is still vast, but the sheer size of the mountain allows us to see it as a hazy grey against the background of the horizon.
On that same day, we arrive at a tiny outpost on the road with a sign out front informing us that this would be the last true settlement. Anything north of this single building will be wild terrain. With our supply of food dwindling, we desperately need to restock, so we use the rest of our coin on several packs of salted meat wrapped in parchment and loaves of dried bread. Without any money left, we will have to make figure out what we will do for food and shelter on our return from the mountain, but those are thoughts for after we have faced whatever perils lie at the top of the mountain before us.
Soon after leaving the last outpost, the large highway shrinks back down to a smaller dirt path, and wilderness seems to take over our surroundings. The clear green fields give way to hard, rocky ground. Large, leafy plants are replaced by short, vined weeds that grow through the spaces in between boulders. Our small talk slowly fades away as we both instinctively become more aware of our surroundings and the sense of danger hanging in the air.
As if on cue, as we round a tight curve in the path around a large rocky hill, we stumble upon a simple cart parked in the middle of the path with two men standing in front of it.
“This can’t be good,” Rayfe mutters under his breath, just loud enough for me to make out. My hand drifts to the pommel of my sword. A quick glance to the side shows me that Rayfe is doing the same.
“Two on the road, one behind the mossy boulder,” Rayfe whispers to me, and I sneak a look off to our right and catch a glimpse of the third man, not doing a very good job of staying hidden. I look to the left for any signs of more men but there isn’t any place to hide on that side.
“Good day, travelers,” One of the men in front of the cart shouts when we are close enough to hear him. He is one of the dirtiest men I have ever seen, the true color of his skin hidden under years of unwashed grime. A hand that is almost black grips a jagged sword down at his side as he talks. “Where are you two lovebirds headed on this fine day?”
My face flushes red at the assumption that Rayfe and I are lovers, and I take a breath to respond, but Rayfe’s hand on my arm stops the words from coming out. He gives me a comforting squeeze before replying to the dirty man, who must be the leader of the little group.
“We are just passing through, gentlemen,” he replies loudly, in a friendly tone. By the tenseness in his neck, and the white of his knuckles on the pommel of one of his swords, I can tell he expects nothing friendly to come of this interaction. “If you don’t mind, we will just pass by your cart and be on our way.”
The man squares his shoulders, his sword still held down at his side, and gives us a nod, a grin forming on his face. His mouth is just as dirty as the rest of him, the few teeth that remain brown and rotted. His companion, who appears just as grimy, stands to the side, expressionless and silent. “Why, sure, you can pass by.”
Rayfe starts moving forward slowly, both hands resting lightly on his swords now.
“Be ready,” he whispers under his breath to me. I keep track of the man off to our side, ready for anything as we move forward, one step at a time. When we are just a few paces from the cart and the two men in front of it, the leader speaks up once more.
“As soon as you give us your things.”
Rayfe lets out a chuckle, both of us expecting the predictable response from these three thugs. He slowly draws both of his swords, holding them easily at his sides, and I slide mine out of its scabbard, taking it in both hands and assuming a fighting stance.
“I think we would prefer to hold onto our belongings,” Rayfe replies with a confident smile. “Now, I think we will be on our way.”
“You can give us your things, or we can take them off your corpses,” the man replies with a snarl, all act of friendliness gone from his expression. “You wouldn’t want to see your pretty little lady come to any harm now would you?” He and his companion beside him both bring their weapons up and step toward us. The third man moves out from his poor hiding place and stands just off the road to the side, a woodcutting axe in hand.
Rayfe grins, unconcerned by the fact that we are outnumbered, and rolls his wrists, bringing his swords around in a small loop. “I choose option two.”
All three of the men move forward at the same time, hoping to overwhelm us quickly. Rayfe meets the two on the path head on in a flurry of strikes. Confident that he can hold off the two of them for the time being, I immediately turn to the third man. He makes eye contact with me and charges with a growl, axe raised overhead. I feint forward, as if to meet his charge, but quickly sidestep his expected downward chop, spinning around and slicing horizontally at him as he falls past me. My strike barely nicks h
im in the side, and he lets out another growl as he turns toward me once more. I duck a clumsy swing at my head and counter with a diagonal slice across his chest and stomach. He lets out a pained yell as a line of crimson appears on his shirt, quickly spreading across the dirty fabric.
Enraged, the stupid man charges a third time, unwilling to learn from the past two attempts, and I finish him off with a stab to the chest, my sword exploding out his back, his axe still lifted high for another chop. As the strength leaves his arms and blood drips off the tip of my sword behind him, the axe falls from his grasp. I rip my sword free, already moving back toward Rayfe and the other two men before he hits the ground. Rayfe doesn’t look worried about the two of them, but he isn’t gaining any ground in his fight either. With his attention on Rayfe, the leader of the group doesn’t register my presence in the fight until my sword erupts from the center of his chest, quickly dispatching him from behind. Rayfe easily overwhelms the final man, now that both of his swords can be put to use against him, and seconds later, he also lies dead on the ground, blood seeping into the rocky soil from several deep gashes across his torso. Rayfe looks over at me as he wipes the blood off his swords onto the shirt of the man he just killed.
“They should have let us pass,” he says with shrug. A laugh escapes my lips at the ridiculous comment, and soon enough we are both cackling, the high of battle and rush of adrenaline needing to be released somehow. We search each of the fallen men for anything of use, and Rayfe finds a few coins on the leader, which he adds to his empty pouch. There is nothing on their cart but some half-rotten food and a rusty dagger, and we quickly gather our things and move past the small battlefield, continuing our trek toward the mountain.