by Toni Cox
The trees, too, huddled close, weaving their branches into a canopy so thick, it let no sunlight shine through. Again, Maia wondered where the light came from and she whispered the question to Blaid, hoping he had an answer.
“It is the forest itself that emits the light. Have you not seen the night-glowing flowers? They are so numerous here that, even at night, there is always light. Mind you, they will only glow if you mean the forest no ill. During the day, those flowers grow dull and the trees here emit a soft radiance which, even now, lights our way.”
Maia looked around her in awe and paid special attention to the trees. At first, she could not see the glow but, when she concentrated and squinted just so, a soft halo surrounded almost every tree they passed.
“Hold,” Blaid suddenly said quietly, raising his right hand.
Blaid went absolutely still, the muscles in his body tense with anticipation. Maia copied his pose and breathed slow and evenly.
She had not seen or heard what had caught Blaid’s attention and, when the wild boar broke through the underbrush running straight for them, she stumbled backwards with fright.
Blaid’s bow was drawn and the arrow sprang from his hand before Maia had even recovered her footing. She flinched at the sound of the arrowhead striking the boar’s hide high on his right shoulder and the animal squealed noisily, but kept on coming.
Now kneeling, another arrow flew from Blaid’s bow, hitting the boar square in the chest. The animal grunted, staggered, regained his step and ran on towards them.
Everything happened so fast, Maia had barely seen Blaid draw his arrows, but she was fully aware of the situation now and noticed Blaid’s hand shake slightly as he reached for his third arrow.
Quickly, she notched her own and, before Blaid could release his, she let her arrow fly. She had another one notched by the time her first one hit, but before she had drawn her bow to its fullest, the boar crashed head first into the soft soil of the forest floor and came to a sliding stop before them.
As one, Blaid and Maia knelt, drew their hunting knifes and, muttering the Mother’s prayer under their breath’s, slit the animal’s throat.
Her bloody hands shook when she looked up at Blaid. She had felt as one with him in that very moment; a oneness that was so complete she had thought of them as only one person.
“That was incredible,” he whispered, his hands shaking too.
“Did you feel it?”
“How could I not? You were with me, inside of me, in my head. As if we were the same person. I have never felt anything like it, not even when we fight together on the battlefield.”
“How did we do that?”
“I don’t know, but it bears thinking about. It could come in useful during a fight, but …”
“But what?” Maia asked, slightly out of breath as she felt Blaid’s Eläm change.
“I would like to feel this way with you other than during a fight.”
“Blaid, I …” She struggled to carry on. “I am not sure we should …”
“Maia,” he said, so softly she could barely hear it.
She shook her head. “No, Blaid. Let us get this boar back to the cave and then we need to talk about this.”
“You are right,” Blaid said, his voice gruff. “Let’s get his back. I did not expect to hunt something so large. It will be heavy. The best would be to tie it to a branch and we carry it on our shoulders.”
They rose to their feet together, awkward in each other’s company. Blaid soon found a suitable branch and they rolled the boar on its back and then tied its feet to the branch. Shouldering the branch on their right shoulders, they rose to their feet.
Blaid’s legs quivered with the weight, but he pushed through it and was soon standing firm.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
They walked back. Blaid struggled with the weight of the boar, but did not complain. She was happy with his recovery and, besides him regaining some muscle mass, he was completely healed. He would be exhausted by the time they reached the cave, but it would have no lasting effects on him.
Soon, though, even she began to struggle with the mass. She had lost a lot of weight after recovering from her injuries and was not as fit as she used to be. Training would be good for both of them.
When they eventually reached Belura’s home, sweat drenched their clothes and dripped off their foreheads. Lilith snorted in disgust as they walked by her with the carcass.
“Let us drop it here and skin it outside. I don’t think Belura wants this done inside his home.”
With shaking knees they lowered the carcass to the left of the cave, out of the way of the entrance. They sat beside it, too tired to begin the tedious and strenuous task of skinning.
“Next time, we hunt rabbit,” Blaid said.
“There won’t be a next time for at least a month,” Maia retorted. “This beast is big enough to feed an entire clan.”
“We will have to dry the meat if we want to keep all of it. I hope Belura will allow us to string it inside the cave, otherwise I don’t know how to keep it safe from scavengers.”
Blaid handed Maia his water flask and she drank deeply. Once her thirst was satisfied, she handed the flask back to him and rose to her feet.
“We may as well get this over with. It will be dark by the time we finish.”
Grumbling, Blaid set to work. They worked quietly side by side, methodically tackling the tasks to turn the carcass into usable meat. They worked so well together, using the same methods, they never got in each other’s way, and it was still early afternoon by the time they finished.
“For someone who does not usually eat meat, you are adept at preparing the carcass. Who was your teacher?”
“Mostly my father when I was younger, but I learned the skinning and quartering techniques from working at the slaughter house. It was one of my lessons with Silas. I had to learn about all the internal parts of the various animals of the forest.”
Blaid looked at her with a smile. “Master Margoth made me work at the slaughter houses as well. I spent two years studying there.”
“Hmm, seems we are not as different as we thought. I would like to know more about your training. I have never met another Prime.”
“I don’t think Primes meet often. The only texts I could find on the subjects were vague and did not contain much useful information. I went to five different libraries and still did not find anything positive about the subject. Most scrolls just mention that the two most powerful Primes, Life and Death, should never come together for something terrible shall then befall their people.”
“I have read similar texts, yet I have come across one that I have gleaned some hope from. I shall tell you about it. For now, though, I think we should bring this inside.”
Eating meat regularly did wonders for Blaid’s health and his condition improved faster than Maia would have thought. Within a Quarter, he had put on most of his weight and within a fortnight he had regained most of his muscle mass.
Even Maia, supplementing her vegetarian diet with some of the boar’s meat, picked up weight and, with the training they had now begun, her muscle tone improved dramatically.
Every day, Belura took them out into the forest to show them the magic of his world. As Elves, especially Elementals, they were familiar with the power of nature, harnessing it every day in their elemental magic. Yet, Belura showed them there was more to it than being able to control certain aspects of Air, Earth, Fire and Water.
Nature is alive. Ask.
Belura looked up at the canopy above and grunted softly. Maia and Blaid looked up to see the branches retreating, revealing an ever growing circle of light until suddenly a ray of sunshine illuminated the forest floor.
Close it, Belura commanded Maia, and moved aside.
Uncertain, Maia stared at the bright light above. The trees stood over fifty paces high in this part of the forest and she doubted her magic could reach the branches. Then, she remembered
having asked the forest to let her pass before and, instead of using her magic, she reached out with her mind and spoke to the trees around her, asking them to return to their previous state.
With some creaking, and falling leaves, the branches shifted, closing the gap in the canopy and the spot of light on the forest floor disappeared, leaving them in cool shade that suddenly seemed darker than before.
“I did it,” she exclaimed, tingling with excitement.
Forest here aware. Listens carefully. Other places not so easy. Ask harder.
Maia narrowed her eyes. Are you saying that this part of the forest is different from other forests? Would I not be able to do this in the forest where my city is?
Possible. Harder.
“I think what Belura means is that he has been here for thousands of years and the dark forest is used to Belura talking to it. Before I changed into the wolf, Belura and I spoke a bit about how he co-exists with this forest. He helps the forest and, in return, the forest does his bidding. Other forests may not respond to being asked or ordered.”
Train, often. Speak to forest, Belura said, and so they did.
Maia and Blaid went out every day, honing their skills at speaking to the forest. Sometimes, they felt silly for talking to a bush or a root, but when it yielded results, they became as excited as children.
During those hours they learned the magic of the forest, Belura was a most patient teacher. Yet, when it was time for fight training, Belura turned into something else.
Maia got to see first-hand what made the Riven such a feared creature. Not only could Belura project fear as Maia could project her Eläm, but he could also shift in and out of almost every conceivable shape of animal found in the forest.
And, as if that was not fearsome enough, Belura could fight in any form he had chosen. Maia suddenly saw how the bear had broken Blaid’s spine, how the boar tusk had slashed his leg, how the eagle had scratched his face, how the buck had skewered Blaid’s midriff with his antlers.
Knowing how Blaid had sustained his injuries frightened Maia; the Riven was more dangerous than a horde of Werewolves. It only spurred her on to learn from him as much as she could, for another fight with the Vampyre was coming.
The days passed so swiftly in the perpetual gloom of the forest, Maia found it difficult to tell how long they had been here. If it had not been for Midnight and his constant updates on the outside world, she would have lost all track of time.
Day after day they trained, learned new ways and became stronger. Soon, they could communicate with the forest around them as if it was second nature. They learned the fighting and hunting techniques of nearly every animal in the forest - the snake had venom or strangulated, the deer impaled, the boar gored, the wolf and even the lynx bit and suffocated, the eagle and the owl hunted silently and used talons to maim - but the most impressive of all the techniques they learned were Belura’s own fighting skills.
In his true form, Belura was by far the most dangerous creature in the forest and Maia wondered why he used the animal forms in the first place. Maia had acquired advanced fighting skills over the past century, but nothing could have prepared her for the deadly speed with which Belura attacked.
Over and over the Riven would beat them, sending them home each night with bruising that took Maia all evening to heal. But they learned and they became stronger, faster, more intuitive and, most importantly, they learned to work together.
Over a Moon had passed and they sat around the fire one evening when Blaid looked up at Maia.
“I have an idea,” he proclaimed. “I know where to find an army to fight in our war.”
“My Lord, I am glad to see you safe. We were sure you were not going to make it.”
Lord Swiftfisher’s eyes were still big with worry as he led Jaik through the gates into Braérn. Jaik’s men and the Scout he had rescued, followed behind, while Braérn’s archers, who were part of the city’s Legion, carried the dead Vampyres and their Werewolves away to be burned.
“I am concerned for my mare. Do you have a Horse Master who can see to her?”
“Aye, My Lord.” Lord Swiftfisher signalled a Server. “It will be taken care of immediately.”
Jaik inclined his head in thanks to the lord of the lake-shore city, and spoke to Filithrin about getting everyone settled for the night. All were still wound up from the chase and barely escaping death; he doubted anyone would be able to sleep right away.
“Make sure the horses are taken care of and our people are shown their rooms. Then, get everyone to meet in the tavern at The Deep and ask Burindor to serve some of his stronger ales. I will address the men as soon as I have seen to Firestorm.”
“As you wish, My Lord,” Filithrin replied, formal in front of Lord Swiftfisher.
Filithrin immediately strode off to do as he was ordered. Jaik, still leading Firestorm, followed Lord Swiftfisher until a Horse Master arrived to take him to the stables.
“I shall join you at The Deep later, Jaik,” Kyreon Swiftfisher said, dropping the formality. “I wish your mare well.”
“Thank you, Kyreon, and thank you for saving my men. I am in your debt.”
“This band of Vampyres has hounded our area for some time, but we have been unable to locate their hideout. We shall talk about it later. Go see to your horse.”
Lord Swiftfisher gave instructions to the Horse Master and then left Jaik in his care. The Horse Master was an old Elf, with greying hair and lines on his face. Jaik estimated him to be at least in his 26th century. His eyes spoke of years of experience and Jaik knew Firestorm would be in good hands.
They neared the stables, but then separated from the main group of men and their horses to enter a separate barn somewhat to the side of the main stable complex. Firestorm’s hooves made an uneven sound over the cobblestones, now strongly favouring her right hind leg.
“In here, My Lord,” the Horse Master said and let Jaik into the small, whitewashed building.
Inside, the floor was covered in washable matting and the walls were padded. A large, steel operating table occupied the centre of the space and three recovery stalls hugged the far wall.
“Please, lead her into a stall and take her saddle off. I will get my tools.”
Jaik nodded and did as he was told. When Jaik took the saddle of Firestorm, she started shaking and the blood from her wound ran down her leg, onto the floor and then pooled in the middle of the stall he had led her into. He spoke to her softly, trying not to let her feel his worry.
“The arrow is in deep,” the Horse Master mused as he examined the wound gently, “but it has neither hooks nor barbs, so I should be able to remove it swiftly. I do not think it has damaged any nerves, but I will only be able to tell for sure once the arrow is out.”
The Horse Master worked in silence, while Jaik tried to keep Firestorm as calm as possible. At one point, she kicked out and almost hit the Horse Master. He calmly laid a hand on her neck and spoke a few words, channelling his Earth magic to calm her.
Without haste, the Horse Master carried on, carefully removing the bloody object from Firestorm’s rump. More blood flowed from the wound and the Horse Master spent some time wiping it and examining the wound before applying ointment and stitching the wound closed.
“She will need rest, but she will be fine. She is a strong horse. You can take her to the stables, she will be more comfortable there than here, where it smells of blood.” The man dug in one of his kists, producing a leather pouch. “Put a hand-full of this in her evening meal for the next five days, it will prevent infection.”
“I am in your debt, Master …?”
“Horse Master Steor.”
“Thank you, Master Steor. Please, let me know how I can repay you.”
“You are a guest of Lord Swiftfisher; no payment is necessary.”
Jaik bowed to the Horse Master, then put the saddle over his left arm and took Firestorm’s reins with his right. She limped, but followed him willingly out of the small
building, across the cobbled street and down towards the stable complex.
Once inside, another Horse Master led him to her allocated stall and Jaik settled her in, adding a hand-full of the medicine to the food the Horse Master brought. Jaik was relieved when Firestorm started eating without hesitation.
Finally satisfied that she would be all right, Jaik made his way across town to The Deep, Braérn’s largest guest house. He stepped through the heavy, wooden doors of the inn, setting his personal feelings aside and concentrated on his job as Commander of the Guard.
The Sentinel yielded no signs of Maia, or her dragon. Rothea decided to camp on the slopes of The Sentinel for two nights only, during which time she sent out Scouts, along with Wolf, to survey the area. They came back with nothing.
By the time they left The Sentinel, a Quarter had passed. Six days in the saddle and Aaron was becoming more confident every day. It had not taken him long during that first day to get his riding seat back, but the pain from using muscles not normally used, kept him from fully enjoying his time in the saddle.
Now the pain was gone and he could appreciate the fact that he did not have to walk over the uneven terrain. He seldom thought about cars and SkyBusses anymore, but in this case he did wish for faster transport.
They travelled south from The Sentinel, heading through the tall tress of the forest that covered most of the Grildor-Bron Mountains. He had travelled through the mountains before; to Thala Yll, but had not appreciated the scenery as much. He had been too preoccupied with the fact that the Elves were going to war and his concern for his children, and Maia, had taken up most of his thoughts.
He looked around at the wondrous land he now called home. Tall cedars and pines, broad oak trees and beautiful maples. He knew all their names; even those of the bushes of the undergrowth. Riding along, he identified almost every animal they encountered and rarely asked Rothea to name the animal for him.
Mist King’s head bobbed up and down in front of him and Aaron patted him on the neck. The gelding had turned out an excellent choice for him and he couldn’t wish for a better horse. Calm, sure-footed and strong, the gelding took care of Aaron wherever they went, no matter how difficult the terrain.