by Jeff Inlo
Chapter 8
Lief and Ryson walked deliberately across the forest floor. Lief led, keeping his eyes forward. Back straight, shoulders squared, his gait revealed his defiance to any elf that might consider stopping them. He stepped methodically over downtrodden paths where underbrush had been beaten and crushed away by constant elfin travelers.
Ryson noted the paths with curiosity. He wondered why the elves would take to the ground at this portion of the forest where the trees were yet numerous and intertwining branches made continuous bridges from one to another. While there remained many elves in the trees overhead, others watched below the branches, behind heavy trunks or bushes.
Ryson watched them all with a wary eye. He made particular note of those that carried bows. For now, they made no threatening moves, but they remained as cautious as the delver, and their numbers increased.
Ryson could only assume they were closing upon Lief's camp, but as of yet, he spotted no cluster of huts. While he saw stocks of food at the bases of trees, and small burning fires in deep holes, he saw no signs of a permanent camp. He wondered what an elfin home might look like, whether it would be a sturdy shack constructed from boards of wood, a hut of tangled branches and a thatched roof, or a tent spun of vines and leaves. There appeared nothing to answer this question for he saw no signs of any large shelters.
He could not imagine how far they would have to walk to finally reach this camp, for he saw nothing in the distance with his sharp eyes. Yet, he knew that the elf guards staked positions in this area and more and more elves moved about, both on the ground and in the trees. In the end, he could not help but posing the question to Lief.
"Where is this camp of yours?"
"You are in it," Lief responded with casualness.
"This is your camp?" Ryson exclaimed with obvious surprise.
Lief laughed lightly as he continued walking. "What did you expect? A sprawling town like those of the humans. We do not live like that. We have little need for gaudy buildings. The forest provides us with everything we need. In return, we leave it as undisturbed as possible."
"So you basically live out in the open?" Ryson questioned.
Lief showed no sign of insult. He spoke with continued good will, almost as if he found the delver's reaction somewhat amusing. "Is that so surprising? Do the deer construct their own houses, or the wolf, or the bird?"
"The wolves and birds do," Ryson replied. "The wolf digs a den and the bird makes a nest."
"That is for the benefit of the young," the elf insisted. "We do the same. We build shelters out of branches. We place them in the trees and upon the ground. We use them to protect our children and to store our more delicate items. But they are only temporary. They can be dismantled and moved in a moment's notice. Like that one there."
The elf pointed to an orderly arrangement of thick branches which formed a small tent-like structure upon the ground. Its top barely reached Ryson's waist. It stood against a large cherry tree which assisted in support and added an umbrella of leaves overhead.
"That particular shelter holds the wild cherries harvested from that tree. We have found that keeping them under cover preserves them and protects them from birds."
"What about the dormant season?" Ryson wondered aloud. "Don't you get cold?"
"After the last harvests, we become more like the bear and the squirrel. We build more shelters but we also become less active. There is no sense wasting energy when food is scarce. We will build small fires at night and feed upon stored nuts. We simply wait for the growing season to begin the cycle anew."
"That's a tough life." the delver remarked. He considered those without a warm fireplace and a thick roof over their heads as less fortunate.
"Is it? Or is that just your point of view? A point of view which does not sound that of a purebred delver. You might have been living with the humans for too long, Ryson Acumen. Perhaps we live as we were all supposed to live. It may very well be that the lives of humans, and the delvers that choose to follow, are the truly tough lives, as you put it. I would think it may be more difficult to try and ignore the seasons, to continue as if nothing changed from the growing season to the dormant season. Yet, isn't that what humans attempt to do? They build towns and roads so that their lives remain uninterrupted. They work the same amount throughout the cycles of the season. There is no period of hibernation, no time to rejuvenate. Perhaps, this is the difficult life."
Lief paused as he focused upon the figure of an elf leaning upon a long, thick branch. Lief's face became etched with shadows as he considered the point of their return. "Enough of that for now. It is time to concentrate on the struggle at hand. Come with me."
He motioned for Ryson to follow as he approached the other elf.
Ryson stepped cautiously and remained slightly behind his companion. The elf holding the branch appeared much older than Lief. Remembering how long elves lived, Ryson could not imagine how many cycles this one had seen. He concluded that this must be the elf elder, Mappel, which Lief spoke of.
Mappel stared out into the trees even as Lief moved near. He made no sign of acknowledging either of the two. He even showed no stir of agitation at the approach of a delver, an obvious stranger to his camp. His stare was neither vacant nor cold. His eyes held a twinkle of life, even if they seemed ignorant to the advance of a stranger.
Mappel stood erect. While the hands of time etched their work as lines in the elf's face, it could not yet bend Mappel's bones. A long flowing forester's cloak covered Mappel's figure. His hair, a mixture of charcoal, gray and silver, hung limply from his head. The thin wisps had lost their texture over time and could not hide his pointed ears.
The long branch, straight as a hand-drawn line, served as a staff for the elder elf, and he leaned upon it with great reliance. Ryson judged the branch to be slightly taller than Mappel and of stout thickness. Each end was flat and most of the bark had been smoothed away, either by time or by the caresses of Mappel's hands. The elf held to the branch with comfortable ease as if the staff was now simply an extension of his arm.
Lief reached out and grasped the branch several lengths below where Mappel's hand gripped it.
Upon Lief's touch of the staff, the elder was almost startled into awareness of the two before him. He blinked once, than twice. He looked over the delver with great curiosity. His own expression quickly became shadowed. He offered no greeting. Instead, he spoke as if continuing a previous conversation.
"It was not enough for you to reject the magic as a blessing of the land," the elder elf rattled. "You insisted with your doubts. Now the land is heavy with danger. What have you brought upon us, Lief Woodson?"
"It is not I that has brought anything upon us," Lief replied. At first his voice betrayed his annoyance with the elder, but he quickly gritted his teeth and toned down his emotions. "It is impossible to say what is responsible for the fate we now face, but I bring you news of both darkness and light. As I warned the camp previously, the sphere is again radiating its tainted magic upon the land. It is not, however, in the hands of an enemy. It is the sphere itself that has broken from its own entombment. It remains in Sanctum, yet it has managed to create a break through the very side of the mountain. Through some dark power unexplained to me, the sphere has gained an awareness of its captivity and refuses to be encased any longer. It will bring oblivion to the land."
Mappel rotated his hands about the long branch in his grasp. His words expressed his doubt over the younger elf's story. "You have gathered much information in a short time, information which seems beyond your abilities. How is this possible?"
"There are two major factors." Lief's voice quickly brimmed with pride as he revealed the encounter with the elf sorceress. "The most important being that I have spoken with the spirit of Shayed. She has explained the awareness of the sphere and its refusal to be encased within the mountain. That is how I can be sure of the fate we face."
The elder elf appeared greatly mystifi
ed by this explanation. He leaned upon his branch with greater reliance as if the weight of this revelation staggered his balance. His eyes narrowed and his head tilted as his expression communicated his expectation of further explanation.
Lief gladly continued. "Shayed has told us that the sphere remains out of the hands of any enemy. Its effect upon our land is based solely upon its own will. It is the land's misfortune that the sphere has gained its awareness. It works for neither good nor evil. It simply wishes the total extinction of all life. As to why, I can not explain."
Mappel took no time to mull over the possibilities. Instead, he questioned Lief further. "You said there were two factors which aided in your retrieval of this information," he noted almost harshly. "What is the other?"
Lief presented Ryson with a wave of his hand. "He stands beside me now. I came across a delver as I traveled toward Sanctum. His name is Ryson Acumen. I found him locked in a struggle with one of the undead. When I learned he was full-bred delver, I sensed the hands of fate bringing us together."
"Do not be quick to judge what might be fate," Mappel interrupted. "These are uncertain times. We have no idea what forces may or may not be at work. But continue with your explanation."
"Fate or not," Lief conceded, "that I can not say, but I can say that Ryson Acumen was indeed a boon to my travel. We agreed to follow the path of the quake which initiated these troubled times. It led us, as I suspected, to Sanctum. His powerful senses detected a group of goblins. With his help, we captured one and found that the goblins were not responsible for the freeing of the sphere."
Ryson suddenly felt the urge to help with the explanation. In listening to the story, he himself found it unbelievable even though he experienced everything described. Knowing the severity of what they faced, Ryson felt it essential to convince the elder elf.
"What he says is true," the delver exclaimed. "I did fight what he calls one of the undead. I couldn't believe it myself at the time, but it tried to kill me. We also fell upon goblins and captured one. I have one of their swords. You see." Ryson held up the crude short sword for the elder elf.
Mappel showed no interest in the weapon. His eyes fell upon the delver and spoke with a voice so crisp, it defied his age.
"Do not feel as if you must prove something to me. I still have eyes and ears. I see, hear and feel what is happening. I might not have accepted the truth at first. I hoped that the magic might have returned naturally, but now I am sure that it is the work of the sphere. That means the return of goblins, among other things."
"You believe now?" Lief asked with his hope rising.
"Much has happened during your absence, Lief Woodson. The magic has grown within us. Though it may be difficult to accept, I know you, and I know you have no reason to lie. Your story corresponds with much of what has already happened here. Those gifted have even been able to cast minor spells. The magic, unfortunately, is not pure. I am not so old that I can't sense the poison within it. It will undo us all. If the magic has returned, then why not Shayed? There is also the matter of the river rogue and the fate of the two unfortunate elves. Now, you return to me with continued proof. As much as I would like, I can not deny the tragedy which faces us."
"It may not have to be a tragedy. Remember, we have spoken with Shayed," Lief reminded him with words trimmed in pride and optimism. "It is her counsel that we might yet defeat this thing which now haunts us."
Mappel found only small reassurance. He spoke more of his growing confusion. "The return of Shayed, even in spirit form, fills me with hope. It appears as if this is indeed a momentous time, a time which may decide the fates of many. Yet, this all remains so distressing. It distresses me that elflore gave no foreshadowing of this event. The return of Shayed signifies a time which must be of great importance. Why must we face this without a shred of help from the lore?"
Lief hesitated for a moment, but finally forced himself to speak.
"There is more which you might find troubling, Mappel. We will not be able to simply bury the sphere. It is the word of Shayed that this will no longer be allowed. She makes other requirements of us. In truth, she commands that we destroy the sphere."
The words lingered in a moment of silence, stabbed at the elder and drew his ire.
"Were those her words or yours?!" Mappel questioned sternly, hissing like a startled rattler.
Lief stood his ground. His eyes remained upon the elder, but his voice dropped in tone. "They were hers." It was apologetic in its offering.
Mappel remained unsatisfied and eyed Lief questioningly. "You know the story of Shayed. During the Wizard War she defied the magic users because she would not destroy the sphere. Now, you tell me differently. This does not follow with elflore. Does Shayed truly advise the destruction of the sphere?"
Lief could answer no differently. "Yes, she does."
The elder elf, filled with disbelief, turned to Ryson. "What do you say to this, delver?" Mappel demanded. "Were you present? Did Shayed truly order the destruction of the sphere?"
Although he found Mappel's outburst most disquieting, Ryson answered with the simple truth. "Yes, she did."
The elder gripped his branch slightly tighter and grumbled something unknown to Ryson. He ripped his sight from the two that stood before him and his eyes bore into the trees. He thumped his staff twice against the ground in revolt against what had been told to him.
Ryson and Lief waited quietly before him. The delver remained uncertain of what to do or say. He looked to Lief who stood, more or less, patiently waiting for Mappel.
After his momentary display of resistance, Mappel fell completely into acceptance of what he viewed as nothing less than a tragedy.
"Then so it must be done," he sighed, his shoulders sagged with the weight of the revelation.
Mappel turned the prospect over in his mind. As if condemned to a sentence of hard labor, he faced it with a will to begin as soon as possible in order to end it as soon as possible. "To destroy the sphere we must reach it first. You say it is still within Sanctum. What of this breach? Can we use it to reach the sphere?"
"No," Lief replied flatly. "The sphere protects the opening with a force barrier. The magic may exit, but we may not enter."
The elder dropped his head in frustration.
Lief continued. "Shayed advises us to use the tiers as a path to the sphere. It can not be blocked by any power the sphere might induce."
"The tiers are protected in other ways," Mappel shook his head.
"I know, but we have no other choice."
"You realize what this means?"
"We must enlist the help of the other races," Lief began, again sounding apologetic, but when he recalled his own encounter with the spirit of Shayed, unyielding determination filled his voice. "I realize the weight of this matter, but it is also what Shayed commands."
"Shayed may command, but it may not be all within our power," Mappel spoke with sadness. "We must depend on the assistance of others for this request. The tiers have proven to be the divisive matter surrounding all the races. To break the secrets of the tiers is to break centuries of an accepted settlement that led to the new order. This can not be done easily."
"It will have to be done," Lief insisted.
"You speak as if we can snap our fingers and it will be so," Mappel lectured. "You have no idea of what we face. Not only must we convince others to join our cause, we must defeat the barriers themselves. Although I know only of what the elves placed within Sanctum, I know that passing this will not be easy. I can only imagine what other horrors might await. The tiers were constructed so that no one might reach the power of the sphere."
"Do we have another choice?" Lief questioned. "Forgive me, if I appear impudent, but I see little value in debating the issue. We must do what we must do."
"It is not only up to us," Mappel countered. "The barriers of Sanctum are beyond the unity of elves. They represent the separation of the five races, and thus
, they include the five races. Just because you and I might say Sanctum must be entered does not mean others will agree."
"It is not just you or I," Lief reminded, "it is Shayed as well."
"So it is," Mappel allowed, "and perhaps it is time to break the symbol of the pact which separates the races. I don't know how we might accomplish such a thing, but if it is the command of Shayed, it must be attempted."
"Excuse me, sir," Ryson finally spoke. He found the exchange between the two elves interesting and enlightening, but the near defeatist attitude of Mappel puzzled him. As he questioned Mappel, his voice carried in low tones, hoping to remain as inoffensive to the elder as possible. "I can't claim to know much of what you're talking about, but it sounds as if you're dooming this before we even get started. Will it be so difficult?"
Mappel turned his disheartened glance upon the delver. He answered with grace. Though his response was lacking in detail, he made a genuine attempt to answer the delver with all honesty. "If you must ask, I must reply that it will be far more difficult then you can comprehend. It is not simply the barriers we must overcome, but the ages of mistrust and separation."
"Well, that may be," Ryson countered. "I really don't understand any of this fully, but I've continued along with what I've seen and heard so far. That may not be much, but consider what I have seen. I didn't know of elves or goblins before. Today, I saw a ghost for Godson's sake. I haven't walked away yet."
"You are a delver," Mappel reminded. "It is your natural instinct to follow anything which is new and unknown to you. Take my word; it will not be as easy to convince others to assist in this task. The stakes are very high, as is the mistrust."
"So high that others won't realize we all have to work together?"
"That is the point. The races no longer work together. That has been the way. Even the threat of total extinction may not allow for a change."
Ryson remained unconvinced that their plight deserved such skepticism as to ring a death bell before they even began. He simply would not accept such a pessimistic outlook. If he had, he would have given up on his own sanity at the first encounter with the walking dead.
"How can you sound so sure?" he questioned.
Mappel answered as if reading from history. He spoke with a gaze that spread across the forest. "I can be sure for I have seen the changes over time. I have seen the new order evolve and I have seen the races move further apart. To change this would be more difficult than reversing the flow of tens of rivers. It is the reversal of a path which occurred long ago. In a time you might not be able to imagine, this land held magic. The magic was the common denominator for the different races. They lived in the land aware of each other's presence. They worked together, traded and respected each other's existence. They held a common enemy in the dark creatures.
"All this ended, however, when the sphere was buried in Sanctum Mountain. The things which kept the races together were gone. There remained nothing which they might hold as common. There was no longer a common foe and there was no longer the link of magic. Distrust appeared almost immediately. The very creation of the sphere was such a consequential event; it changed the very fiber of our existence. It led to the new order of things, an order which has been in place for a very long time. It will not be so easy to undo."
Ryson appeared undeterred by Mappel's words. "If the creation of the sphere could create such a situation, then maybe it is exactly the destruction of the sphere which is needed to change it."
"But in order to destroy the sphere we must end the separation. Do you not see the paradox?" Mappel questioned.
"I see it. We need to destroy the sphere to bring back common ties among the races, but we need for the races to come together to destroy the sphere. It's a circle. I'm aware of that, but we have to enter the circle at some point."
"That is where the very problem lies."
"It's only a problem if we make it one," Ryson insisted. "You seem to be willing to accept what we have to do. How can you be so sure others will not?"
"Because elves have remained in contact with the dwarves. I know of their stubbornness. I also know of the humans. They wish to ignore the history of the legends. They live without knowledge of the other races."
"Very few are stubborn when their lives are at stake," Ryson countered. "I've noticed that before. I suggest we get them to realize what's going on. You spoke of changing the course of a river. Maybe you should compare it to changing the tide of the ocean. The tide has been going out, but now it's time for it to come back in. It's just like everything else. It takes time, but it does happen."
Mappel raised an eyebrow. His face softened, lines of age seemed to disappear miraculously. He even allowed a smile to cross his thin lips. "This is the second time I have been comforted this day. First, I hear of Shayed's return. Now, I hear a delver advising me of what I should already know. Thank you.
"Lief has done well to find you. You instill within me a faith that we might complete the impossible." The transformation of the elder elf continued, now both in his tone and in his expression. The self-doubt vanished, replaced with confidence and a willingness to grasp hold upon the hope held out by the delver. His eyes and his voice now held a fire which was known to Lief but not yet seen by Ryson.
As Mappel spoke, his words now echoed across the forest. Other elves looked to them with growing curiosity. "We must now feed a fire which must burn to save ourselves as well as the land, but there is much more we all must do. Our path is now chosen. We must send forth representatives to speak with the dwarves. They will be the easiest to gain an audience. The humans will be the most difficult. They might not even accept our very existence."
"Won't they have to if you come out of hiding?" Ryson questioned. The thought of elves walking down the streets of Burbon or Pinesway was all too vivid in his imagination. Such a sight would certainly cause a stir and raise the curiosity of all.
"Hmmph," Mappel exhaled almost indignantly. "You may live with the humans, but I see I understand them better. They have grown arrogant in an age where they assume they are the superior race. It will not do them well to find otherwise. They will resist such knowledge. I don't know if they even carried the ancient knowledge with them. We may never find a single human with the knowledge of their own part in the Wizard War."
"Let's not get too pessimistic about that, either," Ryson advised. "I know of people that keep close ties with what we call the legends. In fact, I was sent out by Reader Matthew to investigate the origins of the quake. He is the leader of the Church of Godson at Connel."
"Connel? Does that mean you also come from Connel?" Mappel asked.
"Yes, it does. Lief already told me of how Connel was the place of the final battle in the fight for the sphere. He thought it might mean something that I come from there. Respectfully, I think it's just coincidence."
Mappel's expression revealed his interest at the delver's remark. "Who is to say whether it means anything or not? It may be as you say or it may be more. Indeed, we have nothing to guide us. Thus, it is not wrong to grasp at even the slightest hope that other powers are at work. Whatever the case, I believe Connel to be significant in this matter. Connel is where the five races made their stand together, and it will be the place where we shall rejoin."
Ryson's eyebrows flipped upwards. "Are you sure about that?! Connel is a place where the people don't exactly warm to strangers, let alone strange things. They're going to have a hard time accepting elves just walking into town."
"They will have to accept more than that," Lief stated fervently. "Wait until they see the dwarves, or the algors for that matter."
"That's just what I mean," Ryson explained. "Don't you think a less conspicuous place would be better for such a meeting?"
"No. It must be Connel," Mappel spoke with a newfound determination. He accepted the cause with all his heart and soul. He would move forward now with all the intensity he could muster. "Its potential importance
is too critical to overlook. The other races may even be more willing to help fight a common foe when faced with reminders of our last joint battle. We shall bring all the races back together within the confines of the ancient wall which saved us so long ago. As for the humans, they will simply have to accept what they see. The world as they know it is finished no matter what happens. Either the sphere will destroy all life or we shall destroy the sphere. In that case, the magic will return and the land will revert to how it was during the time of elflore."
"I guess so," Ryson said reluctantly. His image of elves walking through a human town re-entered his mind, but now he saw them in the familiar streets of Connel. He wondered how those he had come to know would react to such a sight.
"It is how it must be," Mappel stated firmly. "Now, about this Reader Matthew. He is versed in the book of Godson?"
The question brought Ryson's attention away from his personal thoughts. "I would have to say so. My guess is he is the best hope at finding someone who might know what the humans placed in Sanctum as protection. If he doesn't, I don't know who will."
"I shall see him myself. Lief shall accompany me."
Both Ryson and Lief displayed great surprise and concern.
"You're going to go to Connel?" Ryson questioned.
"Do not be alarmed. I may be old, but I still can travel. This is an important time for us. It is my responsibility. If it calms you, we shall remain inconspicuous. We can appear to be just as humans. No one will know of us until we locate the reader. We will disclose ourselves only to him."
"Are you sure of this?" Lief asked.
"I have no choice. It is my place. It is also your place. You have spoken to Shayed. Without aid of elflore, we must choose the obvious. It may have only been chance that it was your lot to come across the delver in the woods, but it might just as easily have been the guiding hand of fate. In some unknown manner, you have been selected to play a role in this event."
"What about me?" Ryson wondered aloud. "Does my part end here? Do I go with you to Connel? I promised to send word to Reader Matthew. If I accompany you, I can report to him directly. I might also help explain what's going on."
Mappel shook his head, but eyed the delver with veiled expectations. "If Matthew is indeed a follower of Godson, we will not need you to explain. As for your part, I don't believe it is over. That, however, is up to you. I would have a task for you that is both important and dangerous. Whether you feel it to be your role, that is up to you."
The weight of Mappel's gaze fell heavily upon the delver, and Ryson almost hesitated in asking the obvious question. His delver instincts, however, would not allow him to remain quiet.
"What is it you want me to do?"
"As I have said before, I will send word to the dwarves about this matter. That will need no special messenger. They will hear my word and I am sure they will understand. They will send representatives to Connel. The algors are another matter. They are a strange group. They live by their own accord. I never claimed an understanding of them. In truth, I wouldn't know how to find them. I know they live in the desert south by southwest of our camp. That, unfortunately, is the extent of my knowledge. But here I find myself graced with a delver, a purebred delver, and by elflore I know it is within you to find anything that might be hidden. I can advise you on what to look for, what to sense. With your abilities, you have the greatest chance of locating them."
Ryson's eyes widened at the suggestion. A loose description from the legends of an algor filled his mind. It left much to his imagination, and even more to disbelieve. "I've never even seen an algor before. Even if you tell me what to look for, it's not going to be easy. The desert is a tricky place. The wind and the sand can play tricks. Even if I do find them, what then? I don't even know what language they speak."
"They speak the same as ours," Mappel answered simply.
"But what will I say to them?"
"What you must, what you have already said. You have convinced me that the time of change is at hand. Use the same emotion. Tell them all you have seen and heard, and I mean everything. Do not leave out a single item because you might fear it is too outlandish. The truth is that the algors may agree to meet us if your story is curious enough. Do not ask me to explain it. As I said before, they are a strange group. The more eccentric the story, the more inclined they are to look into it. It is how elflore describes them."
"You also said this might be dangerous. Are you talking about the algors?"
"No, the algors will not harm you. They will either hide from you or simply ignore you. That is not where the danger lies. In reaching the desert, you must cross territory which is now certainly inhabited by mountain shags and river rogues. That is the danger you face."
"I see." Ryson rubbed his chin as he considered the proposal.
"Do not feel forced into this matter, Ryson Acumen," Mappel counseled. "Look deeply into yourself. Let your own feelings dictate your answer."
And he did address his feelings. This day he walked within the camp of elves, spoke with an elfin leader. Now, the exquisite opportunity of chasing another legend opened before him, something previously beyond his imagination. As a delver, he simply could not turn away.
"My own feelings tell me to go," Ryson admitted, answering not only Mappel's request, but the doubts in his own mind. "Not because I don't fear the danger, because I do. It's because as a delver I wish to find an algor. If I reject this, I would regret it. That much I'm sure of. Maybe this is my chance to finally prove that I'm not really mad, that this really is happening."
"He should not face it alone," Lief insisted. "He will not know how to deal with what he might encounter. Let me go with him. You do not need me in your travel. A guard will suffice."
Mappel shook his head sternly. "Your lot is cast, Lief Woodson. But I agree he should not face the dangers alone. I will send a guard with him. I will send Holli Brances." The elder elf paused. He considered a gnawing thought echoing through his own mind. He spoke of it almost as if the thought defied logic. "I also realize that a short sword taken from a goblin will not help him. He shall take the Sword of Decree. It will be needed in times yet to come, and perhaps it is foolish of me to give it to him. Risking its loss when it is truly needed seems more than foolish. For some reason, though, I sense it is necessary."
"The Sword of Decree?" Ryson looked confused.
"A powerful weapon," Mappel responded. "A weapon thats purpose was forged at the time of Sanctum. A weapon which will be needed again if we are to succeed. However, I sense an intertwining of events, and I believe it must go with you now."
"It is a great honor he bestows upon you," Lief added. "The sword has not been carried in battle or in defense as long as I have lived."
"The truth is that it was created just after the Wizard War," Mappel emphasized. "The sword is enchanted. It has been held in reserve for an occasion of dire need. Its time of service has come, and it will be needed for us to reach our objective."
"I thought the sphere held all the magic?" Ryson remained confused. "How can the sword still be enchanted?"
Mappel offered a simple explanation. "The sphere took that energy which was free. It could not pull the power from items which held it inertly. That is why the sword remained unused for so long. It can hold its power for an eternity. As it is used, however, the power will dwindle. The enchantment can not be recharged as long as the magic in the air remains tainted. Each time the sword is used it will lose a portion of its enchantment."
Another hundred questions erupted in the delver's mind. He blurted out the first, his curiosity apparent. "How do you use this sword?"
"Like any other sword, but with greater energy. When it touches your foe, it will do far more than cut or stab. It will unleash power that will burn the very soul."
Here, Ryson's curiosity faded into aversion.
"I don't know if I want such a sword," Ryson stated seriously.
It was Mapp
el's turn to reveal confusion. To bestow the sword was to bestow honor. He could not imagine why someone would refuse. "I do not understand."
"I don't want to use anything that's going to burn someone's soul," Ryson admitted without shame. He did not wish to insult the elder or the honor, but the sword was simply beyond his desires. "I wasn't happy with carrying the short sword."
Lief spoke up, now with greater authority. "Your mind might change when you face a river rogue. It would not show you the same kind of mercy. There are simply times when you must act with force."
Ryson stood firm to his principles. The thought of holding such a sword left him ill at ease. As a delver, it was always easy to identify danger before stumbling upon it, or to dodge threats as he dodged the arrow of the elf guard earlier that day. He understood defensive procedures, but shied away from any offensive undertaking.
"I can understand people protecting themselves," he explained, "but I don't agree with going out with the intention of killing. I can't believe you would want me to go out with that attitude."
Lief spoke coldly. "I realize that you may not understand this, but yes we would. Right now, you are still looking at things as if the world you knew was still intact. It is not."
"If you're talking about indiscriminate killing," Ryson responded quickly, "I doubt my feelings on that will ever change. I was taught to respect life, all life. Even if I have to accept the existence of goblins, river rogues and even elves, you can't expect me to give up my values."
"Your values are based on a reality which will soon change greatly."
Mappel waved his hand making it clear he wanted the debate to end.
"I understand your values are important," the elder allowed. "They make you what you are. I doubt anyone will expect you to change them, but your perspective must change. You must accept what is about to happen."
Ryson spoke undeterred of his position. "There is still right and wrong, good and evil."
"Yes there is. Even more so now. The evil which lurks in the wilderness may strike at you horribly. I do not ask you to hunt this evil down. I ask you to carry the sword and use it to protect yourself. Use it to make sure your task succeeds. It might mean the end of everything if you fail."
"What about this Holli person. Can't you give her the sword?"
Mappel reflected upon the suggestion for long moments. "I can, if you insist, but then I will have to make a request of my own. I offer the sword for your protection not hers. If you wish her to carry it, you must always remain at her side. Do you agree to this?"
Ryson found the option acceptable. "Sure."
Mappel did not allow this reply to end the discussion until he made one more request. "You must also vow to protect the sword, as it will protect you. Use it when necessary, but not with disregard. If something should happen to Holli, you must take up the sword. It must then never leave your side. I can not speak further of this. You simply must accept that if the sword is lost, so are we all."
"If it's that important maybe you should hold onto it." Ryson offered.
"I believe it must go with you. Do you accept this responsibility?"
Ryson nodded.
"Very well," Mappel spoke as if the matter was concluded. "Lief, summon Holli Brances. She will receive the sword and guide our new friend toward the desert. It will be a difficult path through the forest. It remains thick in that direction."
"Do not fear for him on that," Lief stated as he turned to fulfill Mappel's request. "He climbs as well, perhaps even better than I."
"That is high praise indeed. Come now, delver, it is time for me to tell you all I know of the algors."
"Before you do, I have one more question for you. It seems to me we're forgetting one piece of the puzzle."
"Which might that be?"
"The delvers," Ryson admitted. "Even if Reader Matthew can help us with the humans, and I can convince the algors, we still have no idea what my people put in Sanctum. I can't even tell you who to ask."
"I see." Mappel paused as he closed his eyes to think for long moments before continuing. "Let us not fret upon that now. I will see what the reader can tell me and we shall see how you fare with the algors. As for the delvers, you are here with us at this moment. That is enough for now. We will deal with the puzzles of Sanctum when we bring others together. Perhaps, Matthew will help us with this problem."
Ryson only shrugged.