The wolf creature turned back to the stunned Eric and salivated. It approached slowly as if savoring the meal to come. It opened its mouth and out came Redstreak. The hawk's body was covered in a red aura and the creature's entrails. He tried to shake himself clean, but failed miserably.
“Never again!” He flew to a branch and shook once more.
Now that the creature was clearly dead, Eric felt a little braver near it. Redstreak used his body as a blade and cut the thing from rump to front. Just one look at the exposed organs was enough to make Eric throw up all the food Tasio fed him that morning.
Once he recovered, his curiosity overcame him once again and he took another look. Its general form resembled a wolf, but monstrous and bigger than normal. Its fur was spiny and it had ivory horns jutting out of its skull. “What is this thing?”
“ A Horlf, a monster,” Redstreak said, “Just my luck to run into one that knew how to make a barrier.” After one last futile shake, he sighed. He spread grimy wings and circled Eric. “This way, human. We're taking a detour.” The hawk left the path.
Eric quickly followed. “A-Are there more of those things?”
“Of course there are more, but hopefully not too many more like that one.”
“I thought monsters didn't exist.” First talking birds and now monsters!? He was getting the feeling that Tasio pulled him into a fantasy novel.
“Didn't exist? Your branch must be in worse shape than Old Grey thought.”
Eric stepped on a tuff of grass and it stood up and scurried away. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“Don't you know anything? Of course not, stupid question.” Redstreak sighed. “Monsters are a measure of mana: more mana, more monsters.”
The pair walked by a tree whose branches rotated like a windmill. “What's 'mana'?”
“It's complicated. If you really want to know, then you can ask the humans. After a detour.”
“You're going home?”
“No, I'm going to a spring. I can't go to a human colony covered in entrails. They'll think I'm a monster. Enough call me that as it is.”
“Why's that?”
“None of your business!” The shout cowed Eric and he let the subject drop.
The trees thinned and the pair arrived at a clearing with an overflowing lake. It was fed by a waterfall in the north and it would drain into a southern stream if not for a dam. Several beavers walked along it: sniffing here, looking there, and slapping the odd tree with their tail. Others were pulling away logs in an isolated section of the dam. These beavers barked and nearby fish swam away. Then they removed the last of the blockage and the water drained out. It dropped below the bank and cleared up. These beavers barked again and the ones that created the hole plugged it up. If Eric didn't know better, he'd think the beavers were managing the water level.
Redstreak dived into the stream and shot back out a moment later, dripping wet and a good deal cleaner. He hovered above the spring and shrieked. Eric flinched and Redstreak was covered in insects. It's one thing after another. The insect cloud flew off the now completely clean Redstreak and hovered next to him. Redstreak hawed and the insects collectively buzzed before dispersing.
“Before you ask, they were helping me clean.”
“Don't you eat them?”
Redstreak circled Eric. “When I'm hungry.”
“How'd they know you weren't hungry?”
“Because I was asked them to help me clean.”
“What if you were lying?”
“Because if I did that just once they'd never help me clean again, and then how would I get blood stains out?”
Eric stopped. He had no idea animals, animals, had that kind of organization. Sure he knew about fish schools and lion prides but . . .a bird of prey asking that prey to clean its feathers?! It was ridiculous! The look on his guide's face said he was the one being ridiculous.
“This isn't how things work in your world?” Eric nodded. “Your branch is that dry? No wonder you're here.”
“What do you mean?”
“You'll find out,” Redstreak replied. “Take a drink. You look thirsty.”
It was right then that Eric remembered he hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. Since even that was now mush on the forest floor, his stomach made its complaints and Eric blushed.
“I'm not getting you anything. I'm not a hunter's tool.” Redstreak pointed over to a bush sticking out of the water. “They might not be ripe yet, but they should still be edible.”
Eric grabbed some berries and popped them into his mouth. Then he knelt down by the spring's edge and cupped some of the water to wash them down. His eyes snapped wide; the berries and water tasted like energy itself. Without a second thought, he plunged his head into the lake and drank greedily. Only when his lungs demanded air did he pull his head out.
A deep satisfaction filled him and he fell back on the forest floor. He now understood how a man on the brink of dehydration feels when he finally reaches an oasis. After drinking this water, he realized he'd been parched his whole life and didn't know it.
“What kind of water is this? And these berries . . .”
“Normal spring water and normal berries. Why?”
“They're incredible!”
“Oh right, dry branch. You're not used to mana-rich water.”
Eric sat up. “Isn't mana the same thing that creates monsters?”
“It's complicated. I don't have time to explain it to a bumpkin like you.”
A wave knocked Eric down. A beaver stood on the lake's surface swinging its tail and barking and these actions seemed to control the water. The beaver barked again and pointed its tail at Eric. He frantically backed up as the wave crashed over him and the badger standing behind him. Eric was slammed with the force of a mallet but the badger was protected by an earthen shield.
It let out a series of barks and stomped its forepaws. The beaver was sent flying by a hunk of rock from beneath the water. The badger then raised a chunk of land and fired it at the beaver while it was still in midair. The beaver shrieked and a screen of water rose to defend it.
Redstreak hawed and both were grabbed by a gust of wind. The beaver was thrown off the lake while the badger was blown over it. Both slammed into a pair of trees on the opposite side and while they were stunned, Redstreak fired a beam into the dirt between them.
Something more pleasing reached Eric's ears. A beautiful, enchanting melody beckoned him away. Where's it . . . coming . . . from? He followed the heavenly tune to a sunlit clearing where a gorgeous woman sat on a stone, playing a harp. He stepped on a twig and she jumped. Then she glanced at Eric and patted a nearby stone. His checks burned and . . .beautiful face . . . lovely song . . .
“Snap out of it!” Eric blinked and saw a giant Venus flytrap towering over him, jaws wide. Just like with the Horlf, he froze. Redstreak fired a beam of red light and burned the plant to ash. Eric fell backwards, panting at his second near-death experience in one hour. “What's the matter with you, human?! Why didn't you move?”
“I . . .I don't know.”
Redstreak hawed and a sphere of balmy air enclosed around Eric and dried his clothes. “Let's go. I'm tired of babysitting you.” He flew off and Eric scrambled to follow. “It's as if you're bad luck. I guess it's natural since the Fire Bringer brought you here.”
“Why do you call Tasio that?”
“Don't say his name!” Redstreak shrieked, “We call him 'Fire Bringer' because we don't want to attract his attention!”
“Is he evil?”
“He can be. If he wanted to, he could destroy an entire civilization.”
Someone like THAT cooked me breakfast? “I . . . thought he helped people . . .”
“Oh, he does that too. If he wanted to, he could raise a civilization to a new level of prosperity.”
“Then why . . .”
“Most of the time, he's just annoying. And I'm stuck escorting the Fire Bringer's fire bringer! The next thing I know poop's
gonna fall out of the sky and land on me.” SPLAT! “GAAAAHHH! . . .Should've known better!”
When I woke up this morning, I never thought I'd hear a hawk rant by afternoon.
The trees thinned and Eric was glad to leave them. Now he didn't feel like he was being watched. Before him, stretched plains and a few yards away, a beaten dirt road. He followed it with his eyes through the winter grass and early flowers all the way to a wall and tower in the distance. All of it was framed by the setting sun.
Wow . . .what a view . . .
By the time he reached the tower and wall, the sun had set and risen again. He had to sleep behind a rock and woke up more sore and tired than he had felt the previous day. His stomach grumbled, but Redstreak told him to eat grass if he was hungry; Eric was so hungry he did just that. It had the same powerful flavor and energy kick as the berries, though he was still hungry.
The “human colony” was protected by a wall, an empty moat, and palisades inside the moat made from dirt. Behind it was a short wall, lined with battlements. Behind that was a walkway that rose into a taller wall, also lined with battlements. The entire structure reached for miles in either direction. At regular intervals was a window shaped like a flame and an archer's cover shaped like a tiger's paw.
The gate itself was a single sheet of metal designed to rise straight up instead of inwards. What's powering this? No human could be strong enough . . . A coat of arms was painted in the center: a tiger made of white fire wearing a crown of blue fire, in a field of red fire. At its back was a yellow sun. Its border proclaimed, “Fire Makes Us Stronger.”
Redstreak hawed and a figure in armor looked over the edge of the first wall.
“Who’s there?” the man called. Seeing Redstreak, he shouted to his fellow on the second wall. “Open the gate! The Steward of the Rose Forest says he has an Otherworlder!”
“Is that what they call aliens here? And did they just call a bird a 'steward'?!”
Gears clanked as the drawbridge slowly fell. Behind it was a gate and behind that was a portcullis. Even after human and hawk crossed them all, they had to wait in a kill zone while a second layer opened. When they finally passed the fortifications, all of them slammed shut.
“You're an Otherworlder, not an alien,” Redstreak said. “And he called me a steward because that's what I am. I'm in charge of the Rose Forest. I'm the one they talk to if there's a problem, like someone brought by the Fire Bringer.”
A man in armor approached the pair. Eric presumed him to be some figure of authority since both were polished to a shine and trimmed with gold.
“I am Lord Radic of Tinsopi, First Division of the Ataidar Royal Guard. Currently in command of the North Gate and Surrounding Lands. I welcome you to Roalt, capital of Ataidar.”
“I . . . uh . . . um. I am . . . uh,” Eric stuttered. Redstreak sighed and hawed.
“Chief Redstreak, it is not polite to speak when not everyone present can understand you.”
Redstreak glared briefly. “He's Eric Watley and he says the Fire Bringer brought him here.”
Radic's eyes shot open. “The Ambivalent Saboteur?” Redstreak nodded.
“Is Tasio an important person here?” Eric asked.
“Don't say his name!” Radic shouted and Eric cowered. “My apologies, Mr. Watley. The Trickster is a bringer of mischief. It all started when he showed us how to make fire; he told us it made our lives better, but also put our lives in danger. What kind of fire are you, Otherworlder?”
Eric's mouth opened, but no words came out.
“Easy, Radic. I think you broke his brain.”
“My apologies, Mr. Watley.” Radic bowed his head. “However, it is important to track the actions of such a figure.”
“Oh, um . . . uh . . . okay . . .”
“Radic, I turn him over to you.” Redstreak spread his wings.
“Just a moment, Chief Redstreak.” Redstreak looked over his shoulder, wings still spread. “I don't think Old Grey would appreciate you leaving him at the gate.” Radic was grinning.
Are they friends?
“I escorted him out of my domain,” Redstreak argued. “As chief, I am not required to do more.”
“Of course not—for Tariatlans. Our friend Mr. Watley is not a Tariatlan, and so has no home,” Radic countered. “My city is no different to him than your forest. Your escort is not over yet.” Redstreak dropped his wings. “You know where to go, right?”
“Yes . . .I do . . .Come on . . .Eric.” Redstreak raised his wings and took off again.
“Don't worry about Redstreak. He needs to get out more often.” Radic said. “Now go after him or he'll leave you behind.”
Grudgingly, Redstreak led Eric into the city. The area behind the gate was cleared and empty ground. There was nothing but the gatehouse and a building that looked like barracks. It was a bleak place. Three blocks away was the city proper and multi-story buildings stood on either side of the street. They had glass windows, which puzzled Eric. Glass was too expensive in the medieval era for commoner use.
Further in, he heard a host of different voices and smelled a great many scents: alley cats, domestic activity, and people shouting “BUNGO'S BURRITOS!” The last group was pushing carts. A residential area . . .that would make these guys door salesmen.
Redstreak glided into an area bustling with activity. Stalls and shops lined the streets and adults walked from one to the other. Children played by evenly placed trees. Everywhere he looked, people were making a living. What surprised him was that not all of these people were human. Centaurs haggled over the price of apples, goblins shouted the daily specials of their bakery, giants heaved bushels, and reptilian humanoids blew glass. All of them roamed the market; shopping, talking and living.
“Where'd all these creatures come from?” Eric asked his reluctant guide.
“Creatures? Oh yeah, ignorant Otherworlder. These 'creatures' have always been here. As long, or longer, than you humans.”
They walked past one area of commerce and into another until an abrupt change in scenery. Beyond this block, there were no more shops decorated with deals and logos. They were replaced by stately looking buildings decorated only with the crest he saw on the city gate: the tiger, the fire, and the sun. A sign crossing the divide proclaimed, “Purple Town of Royal Glory.”
Redstreak guided him to a building right behind the sign: The Registration and Unemployment Office. It was a small building consisting of only two visible rooms: one for waiting and another for management. The two were connected by a window where someone would sit and talk. The walls of both were painted a bright pink. Eric's first thought was that it was supposed to cheer up the jobless. His second thought was that it was supposed to creep them out so they wouldn't waste time.
The woman at the window had been attractive one hundred years ago. Now her skin had more wrinkles than an unwashed shirt. “Name?”
“Umm . . .Eric Watley.”
“Residence?”
“I just got here. I'm from Earth.”
“Otherworlder- Threa.” She wrote that down. “How did you get here?”
“Th-The Fire Bringer pulled me through a gate.” The woman was so startled her skin cracked. Eric flinched at the sound.
“The Overturner of Fortune!?” Eric shrugged. “Previous occupation, if any?”
Eric thought for a moment. How to explain a 20th century job to a pre-15th century unemployment clerk . . .He was derailed by the strangeness of a medieval society having an unemployment clerk. The old woman cleared her throat and Eric realized he was ignoring her. Feeling embarrassed, he apologized and explained.
“So it was delivery?” Eric shook his head.” Craftsman?” Another head shake. “Designer or scholar?”
Again, Eric said, “No.”
“Then what are you?”
Eric's eyes widened. Who are you? What are you? Why are you? The water's voice echoed in his mind. Eric looked at his lap and muttered, “I don't know.”
The
woman frowned and wrote “N/A.” “Any special skills or abilities?”
“Umm . . .?” The woman wrote down something Eric couldn't determine. Then she asked him about his hobbies. “I liked doing the crossword in the newspaper . . .”
The clerk studied the page. “I think we may find a place for you, Mr. Watley,” she said at last. “But first, you need to gain a working understanding of our world. To do this, you will be placed in a public school until you gain such an understanding. As a teenager . . .”
“Teenager?!” Eric shouted.
“Yes, that is what we call human beings between the ages of third-teen and nine-teen years old,” the old woman said. “What term do they use on your world?”
“I'm not one! I'm older!”
“You don't look it,” the woman said as she sorted papers. Eric looked himself over and was astonished. He'd shrunk and didn't notice.
“How . . .what?” Suddenly, he remembered the mind splitting pain from the tunnel; it felt like his bones were breaking. In fact, they were shrinking. Did Tasio do this?! Why!? Why didn't I notice!?
“This may be unsettling, but something must have happened on your way here.” She stacked the papers and handed them to Eric. “As I was saying, you will go to a school with other teenagers. In the meantime, you will live at the Silver Dragon Dormitory for the Displaced. You're very lucky; they were full, but someone moved out just today.”
Eric heard a chuckle at the back of his mind.
The old woman turned to Redstreak, who was perched on the back of a chair. “Chief Redstreak, if you wouldn't mind, please escort Mr. Watley to the dormitory.”
Redstreak grumbled, “Fine.” The woman smiled politely and thanked him.
How could I be a teenager again? He was only a little younger when his parents died. It brought a flood of awful memories; the worst of which was identifying the bodies. It only got worse from there: moping led to teasing, which led to isolation, which led getting shoved into lockers and having his homework stolen. Loser! Loser! Loser!
A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) Page 4