by P D Dennison
“How does it feel?” she asked.
“How does it feel? That’s amazing, Manya! Simply amazing!” He whirled around, whisked her up off her feet, and gave her a full bear hug, swinging her around. “Thank you!” He set her back down.
She giggled, red-faced, and looked very pleased with herself at her brother’s joy.
“Had I been granted the power sooner, I might have caught it in time to ensure you had no scars of any kind,” she said.
Ravak went over to the fire to finish cooking breakfast and to dry his crotch by the flame. Bacon popped and sizzled as he flipped it. He cracked three eggs into the pan with it.
Turynn was still admiring himself in the mirror. “No, no, this is perfect.” He turned his head from side to side, examining his new profile. “The scar gives me a certain dangerous appeal that will drive the ladies back in Hilltop into fits of passion over me!” He smiled back at her and she shook her head, laughing at his nonsense.
Ravak could hear the entire exchange and broke out laughing to himself in the next room as he dabbed at the tea with a cloth. Standing near the fire had done nothing more than add spatters of bacon grease to the mess.
Turynn hurried back and grabbed the bucket of water. He proceeded to fill the tub for Manya and the three talked as he did so. She told them of the healing power she’d learned to use through the staff and eluded that it held far greater power than simply healing, saving the bulk of her fifty season tale for the late night conversations fireside.
The evening brought a relaxed mood with it, the air warm and fresh, gently blowing an early summer breeze in through the open windows. The light white curtains billowed and the firelight danced along the hardwood floors, the ceiling, and the walls. The room felt lively and welcoming. Turynn and Ravak were finishing up a nice meal of rabbit stew, complete with some very nice vegetables from Krigaar’s garden out alongside the cottage.
Manya had only eaten a small plate. She now sat over by the fire in the big rocker, watching the flames dance while thinking about her dreams of the last three days and all she’d learned. It was very difficult for her to come to terms with the idea that the dream, which had for her lasted fifty seasons, passed in only three days of real time and that she was in fact here back in Krigaar’s cottage in the paradise mountain valley within the realm of Haven. It all began to make sense as she considered it carefully. She’d not given a life without her brother a second thought while within the dream realm, nor her shop, the inn or her magickal studies. Once she was lost within the dream, it seemed as if nothing else had ever been and her purpose and life was unfolding before her as it should. She had birthed and raised hundreds of dragons in that life and she loved them all. Now to find they were but a dream filled her with a sense of loss, but oddly not as it should for she knew in the same breathe they were never real, none of it. It had all been in preparation for what still lay ahead of her. Not the dragons, not Adder her master, with whom she’d lived for those fifty seasons, none of it.
She’d loved a man whom she would never see again and this is what she felt the loss of the most deeply. To find that her love and her relationship were but a dream was almost too much to bear. She let out a sob as the dream took her through memories.
“You alright, Manya?”
The voice seemed to come from somewhere else, another room, but Turynn had spoken and he sat right beside her, pushing a cup of mead into her hand and looking quite distraught at his openly weeping sister. She hadn’t even noticed the tears begin to roll as she mourned the loss of her lover, her master, and her life’s work. She looked up at Turynn and forced out a smile and a little nod as he wiped the tears from her eyes with his shirtsleeve.
“Well, I hope you are feeling more yourself in the morning. Ravak and I have decided we must make for Dragon’s Maw Keep and salvage what we can before Graxxen collects himself and makes for the eggs, if he hasn’t already.”
She nodded in agreement and took a nice long sip of the mead. Ravak walked over with a long stick, ember burning at its tip, as he lit another pipe full of the wonderful tobacco they’d discovered. He’d grown to quite enjoy for its soothing effects and aid in a comfortable digestion after a heavy meal. It grew wild in the fields of the valley outside the cottage.
“You know, we could make out more than amply equipped from here if only I could get my bearing. From the position of the sun, I would say we are at the bottom of Midgaard, far to the south of the Land of Shaarn, but I can’t make hide nor hair of where we are because the stars are all different here. Near as I can tell, Krigaar left us somewhere in the Southern Ocean far beyond the reach of any place I’ve ever seen or heard tell of,” explained Ravak.
He sat back on one of the benches near the fire. Turynn approached with two large tankards filled to overflowing with frothy ale and took a seat himself down across from Ravak near his sister, who looked much improved now that they had drawn her out of her own head and back into the wyrld of the waking. She slowly sipped on her mead and rocked back and forth happily listening to Ravak.
“We’ll leave at midmorning on the morrow,” Turynn declared and took a big swig of his ale.
“We’d best find a way to get our bearings as we’ve no idea how far we are from the keep and you’re forgetting something. There may be an ocean between us and the land the keep is in,” said Ravak.
“Well, Krigaar would not just leave us stranded in the middle of a mountain range we’re unfamiliar with, would he, sister?” Turynn turned to Manya to try and include her in the conversation. She’d been listening closely and thinking a great deal on the journey that lay ahead.
“We’ll leave on the morrow as Turynn has suggested,” she stated flatly with her eyes wide as she pondered far away thoughts.
“I’ve the means with the power of the staff to Transportal us to any place I know of and so I will transport us right back inside the walls of the great keep.” She took another sip of her mead and looked to the other two for a response.
“That’s remarkable!” exclaimed Ravak, rising to his feet to step over and stoke up the fire. Puffs of smoke rose from the pipe as he moved and he began to speak again as he worked the poker.
“We’ll still need to saddle and gear those horses out there for our trip down out of the Mystpeaks. There are three of them and given our situation and our host, I’d wager there’s no coincidence in the number of horses or the packs and gear about the cottage. Krigaar left all for us to take and use well as we continue on our quest. There are saddles and blankets, packs, pots, dried fruits, and berries. Nuts and various preserves in small clay pots. There are even breads and biscuits in the larder downstairs that are all wrapped and ready to be packed for travel. Turynn and I have been hunting and smoking meats for three days straight and we have quite a good supply of food. I even have some hides to trade if I ever actually get to a city. Are you able to transport us and all our gear at once? It seems a great deal of magick would be required for such a feat.” He took another long draw on his pipe and reseated himself on the bench, taking up his cup for a sip of the fine mountain spring water mead that Krigaar had so graciously left for them.
“Yes, ‘tis no trouble at all. Though I must warn the both of you that the power I speak of cannot be used at will. Once we have Transportaled, it will be some time again before I can perform the same feat. The staff has many powers, but it must be recharged between uses and used only thrice per moon.” She took another sip of her mead, fully intending to continue, but Turynn cut in.
“What in the name of Avgud is a Drake Vardar, Manya?”
He was referring to the letter left by Krigaar. They were both looking at her queerly now as the little tidbit left a lot to the imagination. To those who had not been where she’d been or seen what she’d seen in the Dream Speak, it all sounded like a lot of feverish gibberish. She smiled and blushed some, realizing how wild the story must seem to them.
“A Drake Vardar is me, brother. I am a Drake Vardar and the on
ly one at that. I am a breeder and trainer of dragons and of the men who fly atop them. It’s my duty to serve as steward to all dragon kind across the Land of Shaarn. As ordained by Krigaar himself, it’s my life’s purpose. I must also steward the good people of the Land of Shaarn and train them and the dragons both to live together in harmony and work together to maintain the balance between good and evil, wherever it may rear its ugly head. The dragons will be our greatest weapon against Graxxen.”
Turynn and Ravak both looked at her as if she’d not yet finished speaking, so she went on to tell them all about her Dream Speak journey with the powerful being Adder. She told them how she’d lived another life raising dragons in the dream wyrld to prepare her for her journey. She spoke of how to train, how to ride, and how to fight from atop the dragons, reassuring that when the time came, she would give them both firsthand lessons so they too could experience the joy and power of dragons.
When the tale came to an end, the hour had drawn late and the fire low. Ravak had slipped down from the bench during the conversation more than two hours past into a half-lying position on the great bearskin rug near the fire. He rose to close the windows and curtains. Turynn rose as well, stretched, and yawned loudly as he spoke.
“Well, this whole experience of yours is a lot to take in, but it does explain your hair and the distant look in your eyes today. I’ve always been afraid for you and your interest in the wyrld of magick yet always knew you were destined for greatness from it all. I’m very proud to say my sister is the Drake Vardar of Shaarn and that she will one day teach me to ride a dragon into the skies over Hilltop. Won’t that be a sight, eh, Ravak?”
Ravak, smiled broadly at them both with a heavy sleepy look in his eyes.
“One day soon,” she replied, smiling back as she rose and headed down the hall toward the bedchambers.
Ravak said nothing and made himself busy with the windows, double-checking the lock of the door and rebuilding the fire to keep them warm through the night. Not much of a fire was needed during summer, but he didn’t know what to make of Manya’s story and had already taken in so much in the last two moons that to now hear a god had come down and given her the power of stewardship over all dragon kind, a magickal staff with which to act out her new role, and that she’d been living another lifetime in a dream realm over the last three days all seemed a little too much for him to swallow unquestioningly. He wanted to believe.
“We’ll rise early so we can get those horses readied and packs filled.” Turynn slapped a hand on Ravak’s shoulder.
The young Northerner found himself so deeply lost in thought that it gave him a start and he jumped.
“Sorry, old boy, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Turynn said apologetically.
“No, no, it’s nothing. I’m having a hard time putting my head fully into Manya’s tale and I’m very tired. I guess you gave me something of a fright. I think I need to sleep on the whole affair and allow my mind to put the pieces of the puzzle together for me whilst I slumber,” said Ravak.
Turynn nodded and gave him another pat on the shoulder before turning to head off to bed himself. Ravak headed into his chamber and lay down, filling another pipe of the wild tobacco. He knew he’d not sleep for some time and lay awake enjoying his pipe and considering carefully all he’d seen and heard thus far on his new adventures outside the clan.
After an hour or so of smoking and quiet contemplation, he set his pipe down on the small table beside the bed and rolled over to sleep.
Morning came all too quickly. The tobacco Ravak smoked had a way of fogging the mind and made it difficult to rise the next morning, but the day shone bright and the sun snuck in through the cracks between the drapes and made it all the easier to fight off the grogginess.
He entered the main room to find Turynn hauling their packs over to the door and talking with Manya. Breakfast of bacon and tea with some dried fruit was laid out for him. He wolfed down his meal quickly and rose to grab a pack to help Turynn load up the horses. Turynn had already saddled, watered, and fed them and was now fastening packs onto the animals.
After they’d finished, they headed back in to gather up Manya and take a look around to ensure they’d left the summer home of a god in good order before heading out. The cottage had been absolutely splendid, exactly what they’d needed after such a trying ordeal in the mountains. The three companions were now rested and ready for most anything, not to mention Manya now had her magick back in hand.
She sat at the table writing a very nice letter to Krigaar, thanking him for all he’d done for them and for giving her the honour of being the Drake Vardar. She didn’t know exactly how to put her feelings into words, but she did her best and finished the note with teary eyes as the two men entered.
“Everything alright, Manya?” Turynn asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little emotional, but I think that’s to be expected after such an episode. Ready to leave?” she asked.
“Any time you’re ready.” He turned and went back out.
Ravak hurried around the cottage locking up windows, drawing curtains, and ensuring the fire was out. He felt grateful to the god for allowing them the use of this little paradise and wanted to show that gratitude with respect for the cottage. Once he’d done all he felt he could, he turned and looked around one last time and smiled before heading out.
“Gather close and keep a hold on those reins. We don’t want the horses trailing off to be forever lost in the nethyr,” Manya instructed as she set them all tightly together. She stepped into the midst of them and grasped Liv Givare with both hands, closing her eyes and cracking the base of it into the ground with some force, whispering her soft incantation to the little fellow who resided at the tip of the staff.
“Taga till jig.”
Once again the dragon figurine at the head of the staff came to life and the emerald lit up as if the little serpent were breathing green fire into the air, she spoke the incantation.
“Fora Oss!” With her words, a portal began to open below them. At first a magical circle appeared with illuminated sigils around the circumference and then the centre lit up, white with the justice magick of the god Krigaar. White tendrils of light reached up for the companions, the horses, who were only mildly upset by the bright light at their feet, and all their belongings were slowly enveloped in the warm, white magick.
“Grab hold of my gown, gentlemen,” she commanded them.
The portal expanded, opening fully to allow three people and their horses through and they were enveloped in light and off on their next journey.1
1 “Haven”
Haven was once the realm of the Vampire Lords, but they have long since been sentenced to an eternity trapped in the sleep of the dead. Haven is now under the power of the god of justice himself. Its true location is lost to time, but is believed to lie directly south of the city of Innisport, a great distance out into the Orcun Ocean. No maps show its location and no living man has ever seen it. Rumored to be surrounded on all sides by harsh mountains, at the centre rests a vale of great beauty where the god himself resides when he is not out dispensing justice in the Land of Shaarn, beneath which lies the hidden tomb of the Vampire Lords, where they rest for all eternity.
- Arch Mage Zeraan Taaselfee, The Annals of Time, Season: 0011A.2.
Chapter 15
Goblins, Goblins, and More Goblins
It was a few hours past midday. The sun was high, though Rostioff and company would never have noticed as they were now deep within the woods of the Winter Wolf Hills. Tall Rowenwoods rose up all around them with lichen and moss growing on all the deadfall at their feet. The canopy above only allowed scant sunlight to filter through which saved them from the heat to some degree but not from the humidity. They were all feeling the day’s heat trapped beneath the canopy in a musty, misty closeness that was rather uncomfortable to say the least. Sweat beaded on all their faces, and rolled down into their dampened clothes. Rostioff had removed his hat and t
ied a bandana around his head to both save the hat from the salt of his sweat and to sop up some of it before it rolled into his eyes.
Kaldrinn seemed the most adapted to the heat as he’d been in these parts a time or two. Early summer to mid fall the canopy above trapped the heat in and the humidity steadily rose from sun up to sundown, he’d told them. The dwarven brothers Fireaxe, suffered dearly from both the heat and humidity, sweating profusely in their heavy armor and requesting frequent breaks for water, grumbling all the while as dwarves so often do in less than welcoming conditions.
They plodded on at no great pace, taking care not to tire themselves and end up suffering from heat sickness. They’d made their way through the pass the trio had camped in their first nights together, examined the carcass of the Deep Fiend, making many a comment at the battle prowess of the warriors capable of taking down such a foe. They then found their way around Deep Fiend Lake. They even passed through the remnants of Ravak’s first hunting camp. Kaldrinn skillfully spotted the sight. He explained to them that whoever had camped there had actually lived in the camp for somewhere in the neighbourhood of a moon or more. He told them the camper was an accomplished woodsman judging by the shelter. He showed them the drying racks set up a ways from camp to avoid confrontations with unwanted predators. That along with the kills they found, or what was left of them led Kaldrinn to believe this person to be an accomplished hunter. Ravak had spared no piece of any animal he’d killed, as was the way of his people. By this, Kaldrinn was quite impressed. He’d decided it must have been a clansman that had lived here as aside from the Ranger Garrison or the elven Rangers of Rowendale, there were no other people in all of Shaarn who knew how to live off the land so well.