by R W Foster
“I'm sorry? Who?”
“Never mind. What other powers might I manifest?”
“I do nae know, Carter. The Vaush-Tauric dinae inform me. Perhaps she dinae either.”
“That's another thing I've been wondering about: Why do you two all of a sudden call her the Vaush-Tauric? At her palace, you had no problem with calling her Lady S-”
Angriz clamped his hand over my mouth.
“She told me about this one,” he said. “Because of who she is, Keeper Dearbhaile and I, and anyone else who knows her, cannot speak her name away from her home. You, however, because of who you are, can. Not only that, but if you speak her name, you are able to summon her to you.”
He released his grip on me. I rubbed my jaw before speaking again.
“Alright, we'll table that one for now. Next question: Keeper Dearbhaile, what do you know about the Bloodtaste?”
“Tis a type of madness that be inflicted on half-dragons when they taste humanoid blood, renders them animal-like. However, before they are able tae do anything else, they seek out and destroy those who were closest tae them before th' contagion hit. Certain magic, if employed fast enough, purges them of that drive, but does nothin' else. If the mage be powerful enough, th' half-dragon may be restored tae what they were.”
“I've never heard of this before,” Angriz said, surprised.
“That be because there has nae been a mage powerful enough tae do so in many a century.”
“Are you saying that I am such a mage?” I asked, filled with disbelief.
“Nae, Carter. Ye be more. Ye be th' Walker o' Worlds, remember?”
“So I've heard,” I said. “Will you tell me what that means, now?”
“I would, Carter, but I do nae know.”
I sighed. “Alright. You said that if a half-dragon tasted the blood of a humanoid, they'd be stricken with the Bloodtaste. When I fixed Angriz' jaw earlier today, my fingers got sliced pretty bad. My blood flowed into his mouth, yet no Bloodtaste.”
“Tis because o’ who ye be,” she said again.
“What does that mean?” I asked, frustrated.
“I’m sorry I do nae have answers for ye, Carter,” she said, unhappy. “I am frustrated nae knowin’ tha answers tae yer questions.”
“Indeed.” I turned to Angriz. “Do half-dragons, or dragons in general, have a rapid healing factor?”
“No,” he said.
“How do you explain his rapid healing?” I asked Keeper Dearbhaile.
“Maybe yer blood has healin' properties?”
I shook my head. “Your wounds didn't heal as fast as his did. I was still bleeding when I began to bandage your cuts. And you are still sore, I can tell from how you are sitting. Angriz has no pain.”
“I'm sorry, Carter. I do nae have answers for ye,” she said, plaintive and near tears.
“Relax, Keeper Dearbhaile. I'm not upset,” I said. After a few minutes to allow her to calm herself, I asked, “Is Keeper Dearbhaile your full name?”
“Ye took a while tae ask,” she said with amusement. “But nae, 'tis not my full name. My name be Dearbhaile Galonadriel. Keeper be me title.”
“Oh,” I said. “What is a Keeper?”
“A Keeper be one who learns magic from a Vaush-Tauric. They be apprenticed for two centuries, then they return to their clan. After about one hundred years, or so, they lead their clan.”
“Wow. That's impressive,” I said.
She smiled. “Do nae worry yerself, Carter. We still be friends.”
I smiled back. “Have there been other Walkers of Worlds?”
“Aye,” she replied. “One before ye. He assisted the mighty Chokkan in a great war Almost four thousand years ago.”
“Four thousand…” I paused, thinking, trying to figure out why that particular number was so familiar. “So was he involved in the war that led to Chokkan crowning Kandel Orwen king?”
“Aye,” she said again, “'Twas th' Walker's suggestion that made Kandel king. Chokkan was going tae name th' Walker king at first.”
“Wow. Do you know his name?”
“Nae, I think that be lost tae history.”
4
“When does my training begin?” I asked my friends.
“We'll begin your swordsmanship training in the morning. I'll wake you,” Angriz said.
“I'll train ye in yer powers as they appear. Th' only one ye won't be needin' trainin' in be yer Moment o’ Prescience. That one be like breathin'.”
“Understood.”
I began to prepare the mid-day meal as my friends stretched out and relaxed at my suggestion. I got some wire from Angriz' pack and began rigging a rack to place over the fire. I intended to grill some rabbit. First, I had to snare a few.
I headed over to the brush, hoping the spell had trapped some game. Moments after I stepped into the tree line, I encountered an enraged boar. I forgot all about the rabbits and raced back to the camp with the boar hot on my heels. I hadn't thought someone could outrun a boar, but I've discovered that fear can give you wings. I spotted a clear path to the fire, so I directed my feet to it. As soon as I was within five feet of the blaze, I dove over and rolled to my right. The wild pig ran right through the flames, with horrible squeals. The sounds came to an abrupt end as I scrambled to my feet. Angriz had embedded the blade of his sword in the back of the animal's skull.
“Boar okay for lunch?” I said, dusting myself off.
“Nae, I do nae want tae eat ye, Carter,” Keeper Dearbhaile said.
I admit: I missed that one for a few minutes. I started dressing the boar for lunch and had my hand clutching its entrails when the realization she insulted me hit me.
“That was a messed up thing to say, Keeper Dearbhaile,” I said as Angriz began laughing. “Are you sure it is wise to laugh at a man with his hands filled with bloody intestines, Angriz?”
“Are you sure it is wise to threaten a man who can breathe fire?”
Keeper Dearbhaile giggled. “Looks like ye have been topped, Carter!”
“Indeed,” I said.
I tossed a handful of boar guts at her. She shrieked and flung her hands up, stopping the flight of intestines with a spell. She made a complex series of gestures, and they came flying back my way. I ducked at the last moment and the boar guts wrapped themselves around Angriz’ face nice and neat. Keeper Dearbhaile and I exploded with laughter. Angriz growled, pulled his sword and leaped to attack. I wasn't going to move, but then my Moment of Prescience kicked in, slowing the world around me.
I saw myself cut in half by the mighty swing of his greatsword. Blood, my blood, flew through the air and drenched Keeper Dearbhaile who sat, stunned by what occurred. Angriz fell to the ground, lamenting that I hadn't moved as he'd expected me to. Then, the world snapped back to normal speed.
I dropped to the ground. As I fell, I felt the breeze from the near miss. I rolled to my feet and grabbed my sword from where it lay near my bedroll. I drew the blade from its sheathe, which I then discarded, as Angriz came at me once more. I managed to block, or deflect, his next three swipes.
“What the fuck are you doing, Angriz?” I said near the top of my lungs.
“Training you,” he yelled back, swinging his sword from his hips.
“That wasn't supposed to begin until after we slept, you rat bastard!” I jumped back from the assault.
“I lied,” he said with a laugh.
I growled, and moved to counter attack. He parried each of my swings. Growing frustrated, I swung my sword with both hands from behind my shoulders. I was swinging for the fences, as they say in baseball. He leaned back, allowing my swing to whirl me, off balance, in a circle. As I spun, he slapped me on my ass with the flat of his blade.
“Take things easy, Carter,” he instructed. “Watch your opponent and study his movements. Do not over swing as you have just done. In a real battle, you opponent won't swat you with his sword, he will take your life.”
Nodding my head, I exchanged stri
kes with him once more. After a few moments of watching Angriz, I was certain I would be able to hit him with my next swing. I turned the sword so I would strike him with the flat of the blade. I swung, moving my sword on a path running from his left shoulder to his right hip. Somehow, Angriz caught my blade with his and deflected my strike away from his body. At the same time, he kicked me in my chest, sending me tumbling across the ground. I lost my sword as I rolled in a reverse somersault. I attempted to catch my breath, but the big half-dragon warrior was having none of that. He continued to press his attack. He raised his greatsword above his head in both hands and attempted to bring it crashing down on my skull. I rolled to my left at the last instant and when the sword got buried in the dirt, kicked Angriz in the back of his right knee. The joint buckled and his forehead collided with the hilt of his sword, dazing him. I sprang to my feet and swung my leg sideways, catching him alongside his face. He crashed to the ground and raised a shaking hand.
“I yield, Carter,” he said.
I stood over him with my hands on my hips, breathing hard. I looked down at him, wondering if he intended this as a ploy to resume our battle. At last, I gripped the outstretched hand and helped him to his feet. He clapped me on my shoulder, near to knocking me from my feet.
“Good thing for your Moment of Prescience, eh? I would have had you a few times otherwise,” he said.
“My power never activated,” I said. “I think it only does when my life is in true danger.”
“What are you talking about? I was trying to kill you. This how you are able to get the edge you need to win: when your life is in danger.”
“What the fuck? I thought I was important to you fuckers! Now, you try to kill me and say it is necessary for my training? What if you had succeeded?”
“Keeper Dearbhaile would have resurrected you,” Angriz said, his voice mild.
“Oh, is that what she would have done? Well, what is wrong with me? Getting upset and all.”
“Carter,” Keeper Dearbhaile said.
“Stop.” I stalked off, away from the fire, moving as close to the invisible wall of the Stop-Time spell as I could get. If the enchantment hadn’t been in place, I would have continued on my way, abandoning them.
5
I don’t know how long I stood in the dark, nursing my hurt and anger. A twig snapped, then a light curse cut the air. Keeper Dearbhaile approached. I turned to her.
“You shouldn’t be up,” I admonished. Worry for her well-being pushed my anger aside.
“I had tae come talk tae ye,” she replied. “Angriz be tae upset tae.”
I helped her to sit on the ground and sat next to her. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.
“Nae, ye should nae have. But I understand. I am also tae blame because I should have realized now might nae be a good time tae try tae explain things.”
“Yes, you should have,” I shot back. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I guess I’m still a bit upset over someone who I thought was my friend trying to kill me.”
“That makes sense. However, I’d like ye tae consider that Sir Angriz is yer friend, yet. He knows about the Moment o’ Prescience ability and thought ‘twould keep ye from harm.”
“Why didn’t he say something?”
“Because,” she said, “he wanted yer reactions tae be real. The way he was trained was in real combat situations. His life was in danger all the time.”
“So does that make it okay for him to do the same to me?”
“Nae. However, do ye think he knows any other way to train someone?”
“No,” I conceded. “Why do you think my Moment of Prescience ability didn’t activate?”
“I dinae know. Maybe ‘twas as ye said. Somehow, you knew yer life was nae in real danger, so it did not.”
“Hmm, do you think so?”
“Again, I dinae know. I hope so.”
I decided to think on that a while. “If I may, I’d like to ask you about yourself.”
“Aye?” she said. “An’ what would ye be wantin’ tae know?”
“Tell me about your early years,” I invited.
“How early are ye askin’ aboot?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “What were your parents like?”
“Ach, me folken. That be a gran’ tale indeed. Where shall we be startin’?” She mused. “Aye, I’ll tell ye o’ one o’ me earliest days, eh?”
“That would be grand, dear lady,” I said.
6
“Me father be a priest o’ th’ god Kellün. He tended th’ clan temple. He would sit me on his knee an’ regale me wit’ tales o’ our Father, as Kellün be known tae th’ Elven. Me mam would also listen as she prepared our meals. She be a bard, a travelin’ singer an’ tale-spinner. We had a simple life, yet a wonderful one tae me.
“One day, a dwarf came tae our temple an’ asked tae speak wit’ me da while I be helpin’ him prepare for th’ evenin’ ceremony. He had a tan face, and long, black hair which fell tae his shoulders. An ugly scar ran down his forehead, across his left eye and ended at his chin. His eyes be a light, light blue and sparkled wit’ evil. He leered at me an’ me da told me tae leave. I tell ye, I ran from th’ temple as if chased by orcs. I didna stop runnin’ until I be at me mam’s side. I told why I be runnin’ when she asked, an’ she hurried tae th’ temple, orderin’ me tae stay behind.
“Of course, I followed behind her. I didna know what I would be able tae do, but I didna want tae leave me folken tae deal wit’ th’ evil by themselves, do ye understand? Me mam strode right intae th’ temple and I scurried aroun’ tae a window near where me da had been standin’ when I ran home. I was able tae hear everythin’.
‘Ye would be helping yerselves, is all I’m saying, th’ dwarf said in a voice like a rockslide.
‘Not relevant,’ me da replied. ‘We Renline be a peaceful folk. I can nae urge me people tae war against th’ orcs. Fighting be against our ways.’
‘At least come with me an’ witness their wickedness for yerself,’ the dwarf urged.
“Me mam spoke up. ‘I’ll go with this one who scared our daughter so,’ she said in Gaeilge tae me da. ‘I will discover if he tells th’ truth.’
‘I’d rather ye didna, but if ye must, be careful, lass. I do nae wish tae loose ye,’ he responded in kind.
“I never saw her again.”
7
“When did you learn the dwarf was Drago?”
Keeper Dearbhaile seemed surprised. “How did ye know?”
“Seems like his method of operation.”
“A short while before me first century, I learned it be he who visited me clan.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank ye, Carter.”
“Why did your father allow her to go alone?”
“Allow her?” Keeper Dearbhaile laughed aloud. “Carter, me father naevair allowed me mam tae do anythin’. They had tae much respect fer each other tae talk so. Besides, me da had tae stay behind tae tend tae th’ temple. And he had nae reason tae think she might be in danger. Neither o’ them did.”
“Didn’t you try to tell them?”
“I’d have had me bum warmed for eavesdroppin’ on their words.”
“What does Renline mean?” I asked to change the subject while trying to push away the mental image of said bum in the light of the moon.
“‘The Chosen of Kellün,’” she said. “The humans call us High Elves.”
I felt my jaw drop. I wondered if she knew what had happened to her clan. ‘How isolated has she been from the rest of the world?’
“Seventy-three years ago,” she said, “He almost killed every one of my people.”
‘Which answers that question.’ Aloud, I said, “Are you reading my mind?”
She smiled. “Nae, I would nae do so tae ye.”
“Good to know,” I replied. “What do you like to do to relax?”
She gazed at me for a few moments b
efore answering. “I like tae wander the forest near the Vaush-Tauric’s home and I like tae paint. Why do ye ask?”
“You are an interesting lady. Feel free to ask me anything you like.”
“Where did that come from?”
“I realized I’ve been asking you all these questions, and wanted to let you know you’re allowed to do the same with me.”
“Ah, okay. Tell me a bit aboot yer world, Carter.”
“Alright,” I said. “Here is something: In my world, we don’t have magic like what exists here in the Realm.”
“What do ye mean nae like here? Is magic nae the same everywhere?”
“No. For example, here in the Realm, you’re able conjure a ball of fire and cast it at someone, or something. In my world, we need a machine to do this.”
“What be a ma-sheen?” Keeper Dearbhaile asked.
“A device used to do things. In the case I just mentioned, the machine is two tanks worn on your back, filled with air and fuel. A hose is connected to a trigger with a tiny flame burning at the end. When the trigger is pressed, the mixture flows down the hose and is blown through the flame which produces a large river of fire.”
“Can anyone do this?”
“The machine is restricted to soldiers, but any of those are able to with proper training,” I said.
“Ye said other ma-sheens exist?”
“Yes. In my world there are machines which allow people to travel through the air, on land without horses, on and under the oceans. We have machines to allow deaf people to hear, give the blind sight and make the sick well. We have machines which allow one man to plant two thousand acres of wheat by himself in one day.”
“Amazing. How else be our worlds different?”
“Well, the only race on my world is that of humans. We were not created by a god, despite what certain humans wish were otherwise. Swords, spears, bows and crossbows are considered antiques. We have these machines called guns that allow one to kill many.”
“How can this be?”
“Well, if an army of a thousand were to stand before the one with the gun, he would be able to kill them all because the gun shoots these things that are like arrow heads, very fast. It would be like this one man fired three thousand arrows in about a second.”