by T G W Becker
Nethalie and Kalisle had fantasised many times of heading off on a grand adventure somewhere, it seemed, however, that Nethalie had decided to take a more active approach.
All these thoughts spun around in his head, making Kalisle a little angry and more than a fraction agitated.
“It was so nice of her to let me know. When did she leave?” he snapped at Tre’larr. He did not mean to aim his anger towards the aging man, but he couldn’t help it.
“She went about four days ago now. They seemed to be heading for the southern lands from what the Bluecap was suggesting. Tracking the thief that stole the Ecliptica piece from our shop. It seems they are not so much a legend after all.”
Tre’larr’s sudden offering of this information was enough to fully realise the idea that was forming in Kalisle’s mind. He would follow her, she may need his help. Nethalie was smart enough to keep out of trouble and her skills were formidable, but who knew when an extra pair of hands might come in handy.”Besides, what an excuse for an adventure,” he thought to himself.
“Thank you Tre’larr. At least I know where she has disappeared off to now. I should get back to the docks, the next ships should be bringing their catch in soon,” and he turned on his heal and made his way back to the protesting shop door. It was no more friendly with Kalisle leaving than when he had entered.
The shop returned to silence, leaving Tre’larr standing in the doorway to the back of the shop.
“I have done as you asked,” he muttered over his shoulder, “now leave me be.”
In the depths of the store room behind him, mixed amongst the scrolls and tomes, a shadow lifted from the room, leaving for the world outside.
~ 16 ~
Rossa and Nethalie planned to spend a couple of days in Isimir to re-supply, find a blacksmith (who they heard was more a dealer of used weapons than freshly made ones) and gather some information on the golden eyed man that they were following. It seemed, to no surprise, that a man wandering around the town and showing off an exceptionally unique eye colour drew a great deal of attention. The Sundown Inn was the perfect place to start asking around. The innkeeper, Gracie, had met the man and given him information of the smithy, where to acquire a mountain pony and also where to get mapping supplies. The innkeeper remembered the man well as his visit had been short and he had been one of the first people to pass through not looking to go looting in the Shadow realm. It appeared that he had only left a day or so before. This meant that Rossa and Nethalie were not too far behind.
“So, can you tell us where to find Marik and secure ourselves some fresh mounts?” Rossa asked Gracie.
“I can certainly tell you where you can find him, but it’s another matter if he wants to be found. He’s not the most social of folk in Isimir. What business do you two have with the young man anyways?” Gracie asked. It must have seemed odd that they were looking for the man and had not travelled with him in the first place.
“He is a colleague of ours,” Nethalie said tactfully, not knowing what Gracie had been told by the man of his intentions. “We were meant to be travelling as a group, but we were delayed at Port Gol for a day; our friend went on ahead to supply and prepare. It seems that he was keen to continue without us.”
“It seems he was rather,” Gracie replied, Nethalie could tell she was still unsure about the two newest travellers.
“It’s not like we are bad company,” Rossa piped up, “if anything I’d say he was just the brawn of our little troop and we two are the brains,” she beamed giving Gracie a wink.
“Sometimes I don’t know what these men are thinking, going off on their own only to let us sort it all out afterwards. Oh sure, they have their moments, but its best to operate as a partnership rather than go solo, don’t you think?” Rossa continued.
This seemed to strike the right chord with Gracie, “tell me about it,” she indicated to the head that had appeared by the kitchen doorway and smiled, “this one would be lost without me sometimes. It’s funny how things work out.”
“Did our friend get all the provisions while he was here?” Nethalie asked.
“I should think he got most things, whether he remembered to pick up for you is another matter however. I sent him to Marik for a pony and to see Lou for mapping supplies. I might also suggest that you both go to see Elijah our smithy, it might be wise to get hold of a blade or two…just in case.”
Nethalie and Rossa payed up for their rooms and gave a little extra for the additional information Gracie had given them on how to find Marik. Heading out to get a pair of ponies with a spring in their steps knowing they were closing up on the golden-eyed man, the pair were optimistic.
. . .
As the dusk began to draw its blanket over Isimir, the two friends could be found sat slumped against a familiar boulder. They had walked in the direction that Gracie had told them, but found that after a while, everything looked the same. It was when Nethalie left a mark on the boulder as they passed it, that they then found again a short while later, they realised they were lost.
“Face it Rossa, we’ve been had. Gracie has sent us on a wild mossfoul chase. There is no man up here, just us two. Nothing else for as far as the eye can see!” Nethalie sighed as she slumped against the cool rock behind her.
Looking around at the now all too familiar landscape, Nethalie could see rainclouds drawing near. There was definitely a storm on the way tonight. They had tried, on several attempts, to head back down the way they came and back to Isimir, but that had failed miserably. Now, with stomachs growling and the winds picking up, the mood was not good.
As the first droplets of rain fell, Rossa took a wander around the boulder, after a minute or two she returned with a hint of a smile.
“One piece of good news. There is an overhang around the back of this thing and it should keep us mostly dry.”
The two of them hurried to the overhang and ducked under, just as a torrent of rain fell from an angry looking sky.
“That is at least one thing that has gone right since we left,” Nethalie gasped as the cold wind moaned into their shelter.
The ground beneath them was a dry sandy soil, so they huddled together and wrapped their cloaks tightly around them.
As the light faded the wind and rain increased in ferocity. Their small shelter could not protect them from wind and the two were growing increasingly weary and cold. The sky was suddenly lit up by a pure, white, bolt of lightning. It shot down from the sky, like a great arrow hurled at the land below. As it struck, it was met with a crack of energy and then, moments later, the ground rumbled at the thunder followed, as if angry at not striking as it had wished.
Flash after flash lit up the night sky. The rain beat down hard. As the time slowly crept by, exhaustion overcame the two huddled bodies. A restless, cold sleep was all that could be had, but the rest was welcome from the cold numbness slowly creeping into their limbs.
It was still dark when Nethalie shook herself awake. The rain had all but stopped, but the lightning still flashed in the distance. She rubbed her eyes with her numb hand and looked around. Rossa was curled up tightly against her and Nethalie welcomed the extra warmth that kept at least some of the cold away. Her tired eyes blinked in and out of focus.
Flash. More lightning.
Flash. Is that a figure out there?
Flash. There is definitely someone out there. Who, or whatever it was, was moving closer and closer in the darkness. She tried to move, but her legs were still sleeping under her.
Flash. A man appeared at the edge of the overhang, with some kind of huge, wild dog with him. It was almost as tall as him. Nethalie gave a small cry, her throat too dry to manage anything more. Rossa didn’t even stir next to her.
“Well now. I am the popular one at the moment aren’t I?” the man said.
“I…are you…” was all that she managed to say before exhaustion from the cold got the better of her.
“Do not worry. My name is Marik. You, and your friend, y
ou are both safe now. Rest.”
Her eyes grew heavy. The last thing she remembered was being scooped up by the man and then put into a saddle.
Nethalie awoke to find herself warm and indoors. With groggy eyes, she searched the room for the familiar face of Rossa. The Bluecap was lying on the floor close by, also wrapped in a thick wool blanket, still in a deep sleep. As she looked around more, she spotted the man who had found them: Marik.
“Ah, you’re awake at last. You two were in quite a pickle when I found you. Lucky I enjoy my walks in the rain,” Marik said.
“Thank you,” was all Nethalie could muster for the moment, the warmth of the wool blanket making her soporific. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself and revelled in its warmth.
“Here,” Marik said softly, handing her a steaming mug of delicious smelling tea. “It will help warm you through and clear the fog from your head.”
She sipped the tea quietly, watching Marik move around the hut. He stoked the fire and made sure to keep some water hot. It was around this time that Rossa finally stirred and stretched.
“I was having wonderful dreams,” she said as she stretched, “all of which involved a nice warm bed,” she glanced around in mild confusion, “speaking of which...”
“We’re in Marik’s hut. He found us and brought us here. I’m not sure how much more of that weather I could have taken.”
“And just when I had found a comfortable sleeping position,” she joked, her usual self already starting to shine though the sleep induced haze. “Thank you for bringing us here. You know, you are really tricky to find. Do all people who want to meet you have to go through a near death experience? Or are we a special exception?”
“You two are, in fact, rather lucky. I have seen storms like that before and they can be much more ferocious. You could have been suffering from bluefinger by morning had I not brought you back here and warmed you by the fire,” his tone seemed understanding, tinged with annoyance.
“Thank you Marik. I do mean that. I was worried that either one, or both of us, might not wake had we stayed there,” Rossa did sound genuinely grateful, which made Nethalie all the more concerned as to the situation they had been in. She did not think it had been as bad as the two were making it sound.
“Well, shall we move to a lighter topic? I take it you were sent to find me by Gracie and that you are both in search of mounts. The answer I would like to know is why?” Marik seemed rather interested and who could blame him? Nethalie did not think that she and Rossa looked like the usual adventuring type that passed through the village seeking fame and fortune, being that she was a half elf and Rossa a Bluecap.
“We are trying to catch up to a friend of ours. Gracie mentioned that he might have recently come to you seeking a mount.” Nethalie took the lead, concerned her friend may not be alert enough not to let something slip.
“I take it your friend is Drake? I do find that rather strange, as he never mentioned having friends following him, or even having friends for that matter.”
“I can assure you, we have no ill intent towards him,” at least not from this distance. “My friend and I are searching for the same as Drake. We have new information we need to get to him.”
“You mean to tell me that you and the short one there are both either scholars or explorers of some kind? I find that somewhat difficult to believe. If it is the truth however, you three would be the oddest group I have seen in all my long years.”
“Hey. Who are you calling short? I’ll have you know I’m above average height, besides, have you ever stopped to think that the realm is just filled with overly tall people?” Rossa was definitely alert and fully awake now. Nethalie smiled. Marik laughed. “Not to mention that I have been on plenty of digs myself, I may not look like your average boring scholar, but that’s because I actually get out and about in the ruins.”
“What a pair you two are. Almost drowned in a storm and, -who knew!-, both comedians too. Now drink your tea, both of you, and start from the beginning.”
So, settling into the warm blankets, that’s exactly what they did.
~ 17 ~
“Are you sure we have crossed the border? I mean, it looks no different,” Drake was beginning to wonder whether they had crossed into the Shadow realm at all. He was expecting there to be some change to the world around him, perhaps a lack of colour or even a strange look to all the wildlife. So far, apart from Zeek telling him they had crossed into the realm, he would have thought they were still in Kelsach. The muddy track they followed gave no indication of where they might be on the map either. Some sort of marker would have been useful right about now, Drake thought to himself.
“As I was trying to explain, the border I have memory of is from over one thousand years ago. Lands can be reclaimed and influence can dwindle. When we finally cross into the realm, you will feel the disturbance to the flow around you. Think of it as the magical border, rather than the scholarly one,” Zeek spoke the truth for, as he’d taught Drake, each realm could be defined by the magical energies that were to be found within. A realm rich in life, would have a strong ruby flow, an island would have a dominant sapphire flow due to all the surrounding water. Drake had imagined the Shadow realm would have dwindled sapphire and ruby flows. So far, the flow was the same as every other day they had journeyed.
After another half day of travelling Drake finally felt it. He felt a shift in his entire body; as though he had passed through a waterfall and into a hidden cave that lay beyond. His feet stopped, his body taking time to adjust to the new sensations.
“We are now in the Shadow realm,” Zeek had felt the discomfort that Drake had experienced. “See how the flow is different here? The change can only be seen when the magical border has been crossed.”
Looking around to see how the flow was different in the Shadow realm and what magical energies were now surrounding him, he was surprised to see the flows had a particular direction. The emerald and sapphire flows that he could see were all flowing in, away from the border and into the realm. It seemed very odd that there were no energies flowing back out of the realm. Something, or someone, was drawing the flow to one location. It was a disturbing thought as to what might be at the source of this pull.
“The cause could simply be a void that is being filled. Don’t forget that my last encounter with Oriomus was close to Mount Esdraksen. Since it has never been done before, I do not know what the repercussions of that action caused to the world surrounding that spot.” The reasoning was sound at least, but the niggling fear of what else could be drawing that much power would not relinquish its hold on his mind. Before they could follow the topic any further a figure came dashing out of the tree line not twenty paces down the road in front of Drake.
“Please, you have to help me! They’re after me; they’ve been after me for almost two days. I can’t…I can’t go…” then the figure collapsed onto the muddy track.
“Approach with caution youngling. We know very little about this land or the people who reside in it today.”
“I wasn’t exactly rushing forward with open arms ready to offer a hug!” Drake was all too wary, particularly as the figure was clothed in a full length grey robe. Leading Arthure slowly forward towards the slumped figure, Drake could see that it was an older man, carrying a small sling bag over his shoulder and several pouches of varying size on a waist sash.
“It would appear to be a preacher or priest of some kind,” Zeek observed “and perhaps a magic user.”
Drake reached the fallen man’s side and coughed. There was no sign of any response, so he gave the man a nudge with the toe of his boot.
“He seems to be out cold. What do you think; move him or leave him here?” Drake asked.
“If his plea is true, we would be little better than his pursuers to abandon him here. Perhaps we should make camp for the evening.”
“Maybe he can tell us something of the realm when he wakes. That would be rather useful, considering how un
spectacular the map has been so far.”
Looking around, all he could see was the thick wall of brown trees surrounding the track and faint animal tracks. No signs of an imminent ambush at least.
He carefully rolled the man onto his side, checking for any sign of injury. None could be seen.
“E’lif,” Drake spoke softly as he focused on moving the man onto the back of Arthure. Slowly the body lifted into the air, Arthure showed little interest in the levitating body as it was slowly deposited over the saddle.
“There must be some kind of clearing or some ruins somewhere along here. It does seem to be one of the main roads after all.” Looking along the straight line of trees that stretched out before him and behind him, he rolled his shoulders and then led Arthure cautiously along the track.
It was dusk by the time Drake came across a clearing of partially felled trees. This would certainly not be as pleasant a night as the ones he had at the Sundown Inn, but it was at least dry. A fine blanket of needles from the trees covered the ground; they were mostly soft after many days of resting, undisturbed. Arthure was tied carefully to a large felled trunk and then, as gently as he could, Drake lowered the man to the ground and rested him against a felled tree. The huge trunk, which had once stood tall and mighty in this forest, now provided Drake with some welcomed shelter from the cold nip that hung in the air.
All too aware of the plea that the man had made before he collapsed and the mention of pursuers, made Drake more reluctant than usual to light a fire. The cold of the night’s air seeping into the forest persuaded him that a very small one might be a good idea. He set about collecting some kindling and a few small logs from around the clearing. Once he had collected enough, he lit the pile and sat beside it, warming himself.