by Amy E Hix
Minzkala
Amy E Hix
AuthorHouse™
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© 2010 Amy E Hix. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
First published by AuthorHouse 06/05/2019
ISBN: 978-1-4490-9965-7 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4490-9966-4 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4490-9967-1 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2010904365
Contents
One We Unofficially Enter the Fight
Two My Father’s Story of Minzkala
Three The Digvi’ja and the Enchantress
Four An Official Invitation
Five No Draw Backs There
Six Leaving the Plane of Despair
Seven Opportunaty
Eight The Grand Scheme of Things
Nine Journey through the Mourtaire Forest
Ten Discovery of the Warriors
Eleven The Cerapithalis
Twelve Minzkala and the Ancients
Thirteen The Coterie
Fourteen Art’s Place
Fifteen An Assignment to Lift My Spirits
Sixteen Suiting up for Battle
Seventeen The Bond is Formed, the Mission Given
Eighteen The Lair of Ciergral
Nineteen The Contract for Souls
Twenty The Rebuilding of Aheb’an
Twenty-One Rhalas sets Sail
Twenty-Two One Down, One to Go
Twenty-Three The Luminomes
Twenty-Four Malakael’s Chamber
Twenty-Five The United Front
Twenty-Six The Sounding of the Elk’s Horns
Twenty-Seven Fighting till the Break of Dawn
Twenty-Eight The Rescue of Shift
Twenty-Nine The Fall of the Digvi’ja
Thirty The Weary Road Home
Thirty-One The Coronation and the Coterie
Warrior Classes
Warriors by Race/Hometown
One
We Unofficially Enter the Fight
Kaliesto, Forest Elf
The four of us raced over the hills and through the forest, each determined to be the first. We were making our way south to a deep stream in the Evergrove after a full day of training. We were anxious to get there, sure, but I think our competitive nature was the driving force for our speed. My heart raced faster as I listened to the padded thumps of my brothers’ feet gaining on me.
A roughly made tree-house near the stream served as our retreat base. When we were younger, we would pretend to attack or defend it. We kept a small raft nearby to ride the stream up or down for about a mile. A branch from an old tree nearby extended over the ledge and held a knotted rope we used to plunge into the rushing river waters.
My brothers and I are all less than five feet in height and weigh about ninety pounds. Since we’re all past our youth, we’re as tall as we’ll ever get. Sigge and Raffe are twins; Sigge is the oldest. Cyrowsious is the baby and is three years younger than I am. We call him Cyrow.
I was named after the ancient elven warrior, Kaliesto; but everyone just calls me Kal. I’m the typical middle child; a little reserved, good at just about everything, but not really great at any one thing. Sometimes I feel a little invisible, but I don’t mind. The twins are, well, the twins. And Cyrow outshines us all despite his age.
The twins and I spent the morning training with swords. Afterwards, Sigge and Raffe worked on their Spirit Healing skills. Nearly every set of twins throughout the history of Forest Elves receives this training. Spirit Healing is white magic that focuses on the mental and emotional constitution of warriors on the battlefield. Twins are thought to have a mental connection with each other, which often makes it easier to keep an eye on one another while taking care of the team. Spirit Healers also have a connection with nature and use it to confuse and disrupt the enemies’ mental constitution.
Sigge is the muscular twin, thick, built like a bear. He has jet black hair and calm eyes. He is wise, and the rest of us (including Raffe) look up to him. Raffe is muscular, too, but lean, and with a touch of mahogany in his hair. He hunches a little, trying to dismiss the fact that he’s an inch or two taller than Sigge. Raffe is strategically smarter, although some of his plans are borderline dangerous. So while Raffe devises the strategy, Sigge leads us through it, sometimes omitting the more careless details.
My specialized training was with my bow. I’m quite a bit smaller than the other three and it’s more advantageous for me to stand away from anything I might be fighting. At least, I think so. My father had begun as an Archer, too, but not because he was small. He’s a true shot with the bow, the best there is in all Evergrove.
Cyrow spent the morning with our mother, Alyne, learning the laws that govern Forest Elves and advanced-leveled geography of the world of Gael. He’s taller than me, which means he could reach Raffe’s towering height. He favors our mother, especially in the eyes. And he’s started growing a little facial hair. It looks really good on him, I must say. Still doesn’t make him any less the baby.
After receiving his formal education, Cyrow meets up with us to spend a few hours learning the more practical skills of weaponry and battle logistics. He is mostly fascinated with swords and has the dexterity and hand-eye coordination to maneuver two swords far more effectively than any of the rest of us. He likes to gloat about it.
Every afternoon, once our training for the day is complete, we race off to the streamside to play out the rest of our day. Today was the perfect day for it, too. Late spring, windy and warm. As we ran by the tree house, we laid our swords against the base. We quickly removed our leather vests and made a dash for the stream. The water lay beneath a small cliff several yards from the tree. Raffe reached the vine first. It was set out from the cliff somewhat, hanging from a limb on a giant Maple tree. He leaped into the air, grasped the vine, and swung back once to gain momentum. Then he hurled himself into the air, making a backwards flip and splashing into the water below. Sigge and Cyrow simply dove from the cliff to try to beat Raffe into the water. With the vine free again, I took it and swung, high into the air like Raffe, then balled myself up and came crashing down into the water. Man, it felt great.
We dove deep into the stream, following the rocky floor beneath us like snorkelers. We were always intrigued by the many stones along the bottom, brought to their resting place from the mountains that bordered Evergrove. Cyrow motioned for me to follow him to the side and led me through a crack far beneath the water’s surface. Inside, we swam until the tunnel led us upward. We broke the water’s surface again to find a cavern within the mountainside.
Sigge and Raffe had followed us. The twins were pretty much in charge of leading me and my brother around; or in this case, being led by us. We made sure to stay together because the forest areas farther from the city were more dangerous.
We explored the cavern and found nothing more than a small ledge to perch on for a while. Air was filtering in through some connective tunneling systems, but we couldn’t find anything to accommodate even our small Elven bodies. Otherwise, we might have spent the rest of the day exploring. Instead, we decided to get back to the stream. Today was too great a day to be locked inside a dank and dark cavern. When we resurfaced in front of our tree-house, Sigge’s heightened state of alarm caught my attention. He was looking up at an area on the other side of the water. It, too, was set on a cliff, though the
trees and brush were thicker.
“Wait!” Sigge whispered to get our attention. “I heard something.” He was holding his finger to his lips and looking at the wooded area from where the noise came. He slowly backed out of the water, toward the shoreline. We carefully followed him, and, using a narrow path to climb back up, started moving to where our armor and weapons were.
“It’s probably just a deer or something, but we shouldn’t take any chances,” he whispered.
As we made our way to the fort, I could see two shadowy figures silently climbing the trees on the other side. It wasn’t a deer. We made sure not to turn our backs from that direction and started to dress quietly. There had been trouble near the stream lately, and two small children had been viciously killed just a few weeks earlier.
The two figures stopped and perched themselves upon the branches, almost out of sight in the canopy that lined the sky. I wasn’t sure if they spotted us or not. They were a Gremits, or frogmen. I grabbed my bow and loaded an arrow. Cyrow had his swords drawn.
The Gremits had never been a problem when we were growing up. They mostly stayed to themselves and often ran from the area when we were around. But lately, they had become emboldened. Though no one could say for sure, the leaders suspected the frogmen in the death of the two children.
The zipping sound of the wire startled me at first. At the end of the wire was a hook, now firmly planted into our tree fort. Within seconds, the Gremits were sliding through the air at us. One had a sword drawn as they passed and sliced the skin on Sigge’s arm. They moved around with great speed, flipping and bouncing off the trees around us. I had loaded an arrow in my bow, but I missed my shot when the Gremit quickly leaped ten feet from the spot where I was aiming.
Using his spirit-healing skills, Raffe called for an army of bees to swarm them, stinging them and confusing their movements. Cyrow grabbed his swords and stood in the middle of the area, turning slightly to try to catch one that was flying by. He managed to strike a substantial blow across its leg, injuring the frogman and slowing it down. I dropped my bow and picked up my sword.
I began to study the path of the injured Gremit and put myself in just the right spot. As it bounced back toward me, I blocked its movement with a defensive stance, the impact knocking both me and the slimy frogman to the ground. I rose to my feet, raised my sword, and rammed it into the Gremit’s body, instantly killing it.
Sigge had taken care of his wounds and was about to catch the other frogman with a blow from his stave, but when it saw me standing over the dead one, it jumped farther away instead. We tried to run after it, but the Gremit was faster and retreated to the shadows of the forest.
After taking a moment to catch our breath, Sigge searched the area around us, “Hmm…There are normally more than two together. Stay alert.”
“Let’s head back home, just in case,” I told him.
Home is Jalathiel, a city built in the trees in the heart of the forest. There are lifts to ride from the ground to the upper platforms. Bridges and staircases connect to more platforms which are built around the trunks of large trees. Each platform is like its own city block, some with huts, some with merchant stands, some with even gardens and training areas.
When we returned, we immediately found our father and informed him of the attack. His name is Takari, and he’s the Scout Captain for our village. He was in the guards’ hut and stepped outside to speak with us about the matter. After hearing the full account, he asked us to wait outside. He returned to his meeting in the hut. After a few moments, he came back and began to walk us home.
As we walked along the swinging bridgeways, he told us, “We were discussing the increase in attacks in our meeting tonight. Tomorrow morning, we plan to make our way to the Gremit village to try to resolve the matter. Sigge and Raffe, you two will be joining us,” he looked at the twins. They nodded in agreement, “I don’t think we’ll be granted an audience with them, so be prepared to fight the moment we arrive. The Gremits have been announcing that they have been authorized to do as they please by the Legion and that the Legion has given them an agreement for protection, and they have refused our invitations to discuss the matter.”
They weren’t the only ones. There were tribes of Trolls and camps of Bandits doing the same. In some instances, they were outright attacking the smaller villages. Father had already told us the stories. Food supplies were running short. Travel throughout Maralune, the continent on which the Evergrove lies, was becoming virtually impossible. The farms around most cities were now deserted, families forced to stay inside the city walls. A rampant amount of violence and fear was beginning to spread throughout the land. Evergrove, tucked away to the west of the major populations, seemed to be immune, until now.
As I lay on my bed that evening, staring out the window at the stars, I couldn’t help feeling left out. I was old enough to go with my father and the twins, but there was an experience factor as well; and I understood. I tried my best to block out any feelings of insecurity and instead to think of the safety for everyone who would be going, especially Sigge and Raffe.
The cool air of morning brushed through the trees as the small group of Forest Elves met near the lift. They took turns riding down to the forest floor and set out on a path that led to the southwestern portion of the mountains that surrounded the Evergrove. It would be a few hours before the Sun found its way into the sky above the grove, but that wouldn’t slow them down. Elves can see everything before them in a light gray hue without the aid of traditional lighting.
Sitting against the side of the mountains, Lake Eversong was the home to the Gremits. The frogmen had an underwater village deep below the surface, locked away in an airtight barrier. They would be deep in sleep by now, with the warmth of the night waning. And they would not rise again until mid-day.
Once they arrived at Lake Eversong, the warriors swam along the bottom of the murky water to avoid being detected. Elves can breathe in water like fish, because their airways contain a gill system. The lining filters the water, allowing them to take in oxygen while storing the hydrogen atoms in a chamber near the back of their nasal cavity. When they exhale, hydrogen and carbon dioxide are released, and the process is repeated. This gill system works much the same on dry land, filtering other gases and pollutants from the air. Because they breathe pure oxygen, the lifespan of an Elf surpasses that of other races by fifty years or more. And because they live longer, Elves are some of the wisest in Maralune, for with age comes wisdom.
Near a rather secluded end of the underwater village, the warriors broke through the barrier and stood on the streets of the city. The mud on the streets was thick and made it hard to move around. As quietly as they could, they walked the humid streets to where the ruler of the Gremits lived. Perhaps if they could catch him without an army ready to fight, he would be open to discussions.
A few from the group, including the leader of the Forest Elves, Aland, and Scout Captain Takari, entered the home of the ruler. The Gremit King was startled from his slumber as they approached the small sleeping palette, made of moist mud clumps. He sat up.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded in a rasp croaky voice. His sticky pink tongue fell out of his mouth as he spoke. His orange body looked glossed over, and he had black shiny spots along his neck, arms and legs.
“I think you know. Your people have been attacking innocent Forest Elves throughout Evergrove. We wish no harm to you, only that you stop the attacks on our people,” Aland told him.
“It will not happen. The Legion has given us permission to take what we want, and my people want the Grove. The Warlords will not allow you to stop us.” He gleamed at them as he blinked his large yellow eyes.
Aland took a deep sigh and relaxed his stance. “The Warlords have no such authority here. This has been home to Gremit and Forest Elf alike for over a century, not the Digvi’ja. And where are they now? Their promises to
protect you are lies. All they want is to bring chaos to our lands. They are not prepared to take care of those who join them. They will watch you die,” Aland spoke with wisdom, but the ruler of the Gremits was filled with pride and would not relent.
“That remains to be seen. It is of little matter anyhow. You cannot defeat my army, much less the army of the Digvi’ja.”
“Very well. We will take care of this matter right here, right now,” Hearing the frog king speak made him realize there would not be a peaceful solution. Aland drew his sword and smote the frogman. Before his final breath, however, the Gremit King grabbed the rope dangling from a bell near his palette and alerted his two sleeping house guards.
The guards rose to find Aland and Tekari standing over the King, with a small army of Elves surrounding the hut. One leapt out the window and began running through the streets, alerting the whole village. The other one lay dead. Takari put his sword back into the sheath.
Aland and Takari rushed back into the streets to find the other warriors picking off frogmen as they exited their sleeping quarters to defend the village. They came in massive numbers from the barracks-styled huts, seemingly stockpiled with Gremits. From all directions, the warriors fought off the attacks and killed the frogmen.
Sigge and Raffe called on the north winds to chill the air surrounding the huts, slowing the movement of the frogmen significantly. It gave the warriors an advantage over the hundreds of Gremits that continued to pour out into the streets. After some effort, they were able to spread out between the houses, groups of warriors now standing near the entrances to each and killing frogmen on the doorsteps.
In a corner near the spot they had entered the city, a small group of warriors was surrounded. Two Forest Elves lay on the ground, killed by about twenty or more frogmen. Three more were desperately trying to defend themselves. Scout Captain Takari was in range to give assistance when he saw them under attack. He raised his bow and prepared a multi-shot assault, loading ten arrows into a specially designed bow shaft. The Elves saw his signal and crouched low to the ground. The arrows hummed through the streets and into the crowd of Gremits, striking with amazing accuracy. Ten frogmen instantly fell dead. From their crouched positions, the warriors managed to kill a few more by raising their swords into the air as the Gremits came down on top of them. Severe wounds from the attacks slowed their ability to fight, but they succeeded.