Bridazak shifted his gaze to his right when he heard a sudden yelp. “Ow! That hurt!” It was little Jack, the decade and a half year old human boy. Xandahar had been training him daily in the art of sword fighting. It was also a daily event for the young lad to get his butt swatted by the elven cleric-fighter. “It won’t hurt if you protect yourself,” Xan countered.
Then, his long-time dwarven friend lumbered into view. Bridazak chuckled when he saw the beat-up armor he still adorned. It was dented, scratched, and seemed more of a liability than a protective barrier, but Dulgin had been adamant with God, so he said, to leave it be, mystic-hole marked, Varouche-slashed, and all. He made his rounds, addressing the squads of training dwarves. Bridazak chuckled again as he mouthed his friends exact words on cue, “Not like that, ya blundering fools!”
“Am I interrupting something?”
Bridazak turned to see Spilf and smiled, “No, come sit with me.”
They both watched the coming and going of the dwarves, elves, and humans for a few minutes when finally Spilf spoke, “Do you ever wish you hadn’t left the Holy City?”
“I do miss it, but I know it waits for our return. I miss the presence of God the most. I imagine it will be difficult for us all to adjust, but it gives me motivation to see others come to the revelation of a God who loves them more than anything.”
Clanks of metal clashing and pounding of shields accepting the impact of a blade, filled the background of their conversation. Spilf changed the subject, “It is strange, but I have no desire to steal. Before, I was always looking for the next score, the chest of gold, or that diamond ring.”
“Yeah, the same with me. I’m sure our skills will be used on our way to Baron Hall and beyond, but it feels different. It’s difficult to describe, but I feel like I can see things more clearly now, and I can choose to use those skills for the good of others and not for the good of my pockets. At the very least, they might come in handy to help you find your family.”
“I know we are searching for Misty Lake, but I’m not sure if that was the actual name, or a nickname we called it when I was a child,” Spilf mused to himself.
“Either way, going back to the Western Horn lands, back to the beginning where Dulgin and I first found you, to see what we can find, is our best shot.”
“Mmm, I’m sure the old Baron will love to see us again,” Spilf contemplated the location.
“It’s been so long. Perhaps he forgot about us.”
A new voice interjected, “Doubtful, that wretched son of an Orc is one stubborn bastard.” Dulgin and Abawken now joined them at Bridazak’s formerly quiet spot. Abawken produced a map.
“This should help us navigate.”
“Great. Did you get the other supplies?”
“Yes, Master Bridazak, and I was even able to get us a horse and ponies.”
Dulgin glared at the human and said through gritted teeth, “I don’t ride ponies, nor horses, damn it! Bridazak, if this is some kind of joke I’m gonna beat the Dak crap out of you!” he stormed away in disgust.
“Did I say something wrong?” Abawken asked innocently.
Spilf and Bridazak laughed heartily, “No my friend. It’s just good to be readying for another interesting journey. Looks like we will be walking, though.”
“Walking? Really?” Abawken questioned.
Spilf smiled and responded, “Tell me about it. I still don’t know what happened and I’m not sure they will ever tell us.”
“Please excuse me, I need to mend or apologize or… I’m not sure, actually,” Abawken back-peddled and took off to catch Dulgin.
Bridazak and Spilf laughed and then silently waited for the scene below to unfold, until Spilf broke the silence, “I do have a question that remains to be answered, though.”
“What is that?”
“Where did you get this?” Spilf reached into his tunic and withdrew the bright yellow plume with beige spots, the famous Varouche feather.
Bridazak smiled, “You found it! I thought it was lost.”
“Can’t wait to hear this story.”
“Well, you’re going to have to wait a little longer,” Bridazak pointed toward Abawken who just intercepted the perturbed Dwarf. “We should get down there. When we get out on the road, we can fill our time with our tales. Besides, you still have to tell me about Ross’ giant rat.”
Spilf chuckled when he thought about it, “Oh yeah. Well, this is it, I guess. We leave tomorrow.”
“Yep.”
“Do you think we will find them? My parents?”
“Of course. They are out there, and,” he paused, smiled, and finished, “it is time.”
.
Coming Soon
The Dragon God
Book 2 of the Four Horn Series
Raina, the Sheldeen Elf mystic, focused her attention on the powerful magic she weaved in the secluded Moonstone Mountains. After the fall of King Manasseh, she took it upon herself to investigate the realms of Ruauck-El. She had been held captive for centuries by the curse of The Burning Forest and she knew knowledge was power.
In the weeks following, she had been strategizing with King El’Korr and others planning their next objective. The first phase was to gather all remaining races of dwarves, elves, Ordakians, and anyone else, into one location in order to oppose any Horn King military action. Moonstone Mountains was a good place to do battle, but it would not be able to contain the masses or allow for a strategic defensible position.
El’Korr had suggested a place called The Shield, which centuries ago had housed the largest gathering of dwarves ever known and they remained separated from the outside world. It is uncertain if they still reside there or if it has fallen. Raina was going to find out, but first wanted to check in on the three remaining Horn Kings.
The information flooding into the encampment spoke of tyrant leaders from former King Manasseh’s troops, taking over regions and establishing their own power hold on the surrounding communities. Some of the evil leaders had fallen while others to this day still fight to keep their reign alive. The borders are crumbling but the West and East Horn Kings are holding back until they have more information. It’s likely they don’t want the Southern Horn King to come up behind them if they try to take more of the land in the North.
Raina stood before a pedestal with a basin on top filled with water; formed from the Moonstone itself. She was thankful to the have the privacy of her brother’s home nestled into the rock cave away from the hustle of El’Korr’s troops building barricades and exercising their military skills.
She leaned low, with her face almost touching the calm water, and staring at her reflection, whispered, “Show me what I need to see.”
The water rippled and images began to replace her reflected face; revealing to her four colored stones, no bigger than the size of a man’s fist; black, white, red, and green. The ripples churned and flashed to another scene; a mystic in dark robes, gold stitched with the emblem of the West Horn King. He was standing before a monstrous black dragon. Raina recognized the beast. It was the same one who had captured Bradazak and delivered him to King Manasseh on top of his tower.
“What are you up too?” she asked herself.
She gasped when two green scaled humanoid Dragoons dragged in King Manasseh’s lifeless body and laid him before the black monster. The vision then ended.
A library of ancient tomes surrounded her. Her thoughts churned like the water in the basin as she held tightly to the rim.
“Very interesting,” she contemplated. “Four stones and a fallen king. What do they mean?”
For the next several hours she scoured through the books, bound parchment wrapped in leather, strewn about the room. Xan had kept a grand collection over the centuries and there was much information to be gathered.
“Here we go,” she said aloud to herself. She read the passage in the book entitled Tales of Power, “The ancient dragons of the dark-side searched for ways to prolong their spirits and worked
with a human wizard of unknown origin. The wizard promised the old wyrms of the five colors that their spirits could be harnessed into younger bodies and they could live for eternity. However, he betrayed them and harnessed each of their powers into his own spirit. The wizard was known as The Dragon God, but was destroyed by the elements created to counter the effects.” Raina suddenly stopped as the next sentence spoke volumes. “The evil power of the wizard and the dragons were separated and scattered throughout Ruauck-El in the form of five colored stones.”
“Five colored stones,” she whispered. “They have four. They are looking for the fifth stone, but what does Manasseh have to do with this?” A flash of realization hit her.
Xan suddenly entered the room. The door was partially blocked with stacks of books and a couple rows fell over with his sudden intrusion.
“What did you do to my library?” he exclaimed.
“You won’t care once I tell you what I have found brother. Come, we need to talk with King El’Korr.”
She whisked past him as he stood in the entryway looking around the disheveled room; his cherished collection of manuscripts tossed without a care. Shaking his head, he closed the door and said under his breath, “Damn you Raina. This better be good.”
.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brae Wyckoff was born and raised in San Diego, CA. He has been married to his beautiful wife, Jill, for 19 years, and they have three children; Tommy, Michelle, and Brittany. He has a beautiful grandson, Avery. He is an active leader within his church body at The Awakening in Carlsbad, CA. He and his wife are the founders of The Greater News Facebook page which reports on miracles, signs, and wonders from around the world. Brae has been an avid gamer since 1985. His passion for mysterious realms and the supernatural inspired him to write The Orb of Truth, the first in a series of fantasy action adventures. He is also working towards a Psychology degree and is currently officiating weddings on the weekends.
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The Orb of Truth (The Horn King Series) Page 25