Ecliptica

by T G W Becker

  “Who do you think he is?” Drake asked, hoping Zeek might have some recognition of the grey robe. “I can’t imagine he is a wandering preacher, unless his usual audience consists mainly of dead or dying trees. I wouldn’t exactly say this realm is bustling with people so far.”

  “Just because we have not seen anyone, does not mean there are not others close by. This great amount of forest could easily hide a small band of thieves, or worse. My thoughts lean toward this man being a travelling priest, seeking to redeem the souls of those once practicing the darker magic of this world.” Drake understood this to be Zeek’s best educated guess, based on what they had seen. “Let us hope those who were in pursuit of this man, are the type that rest during the darker hours.”

  Drake took a moment to observe the flow around them, noting nothing out of the ordinary. A little more at ease, he took some food from his pack and sat down on his blanket to rest.

  . . .

  “YOUNGLING!”

  Drake’s eyes snapped open as Zeek’s mental cry shot through his mind. Quickly he took in the situation around him. The priest that had made camp with them that night stood over him, in his hand was the purple shroud of Zeek’s Ecliptica core.

  How did this man know about Zeek, how did he mange to slip it out of Drake’s robes without waking him?

  So many questions flew around his mind, but he quickly put these aside. Zeek’s safety was the only important thing now. Reaching under his pack he drew one of his blades.

  The man saw the blade and leapt back out of reach.

  “Es’col!” Drake as he drew upon the magical energies from the emerald source.

  “Efri!” the priest countered and the two spells collided in a small explosion of colour. “You will have to do much better than that Drake.”

  Raising his free hand, he did just that.

  “E’lif,” Drake muttered under his breath, hoping the priest would mistake his spell for a fire base. Drake was in fact focusing on the collection of small rocks on the ground behind the man. His plan worked as the priest cast up a wall of cold to block what he assumed was Drake’s Efri spell. No fire spell came however. A wicked smile came over the priest’s face; the smile was rather short lived. The handful of rocks behind the priest rose up and then moved at great speed towards the man’s exposed back and struck him; two to the back and a smaller one to the head. The man dropped to the floor, reaching for the small wound which had stung him into dizziness.

  Drake seized the opportunity to strike again, this time he concentrated and lifted the priest into the air, then threw him toward the nearest tree, knocking the breath from his body.

  Zeek’s Ecliptica rolled to the ground. Once again drawing on the energies around him, the core flew into Drake’s hand and then he safely tucked it away in his robe.

  The priest slowly got to his feet and lifted his eyes to meet Drake’s.

  “This is far from over. Your presence here is now known, your purpose understood.”

  “Be cautious. He is no priest. I believe he is a practising Shadow Mage,” Zeek warned.

  “You mean those weren’t holy words from his mouth just then. Well, at least we know who to look out for now.”

  Suddenly a ball of flame headed straight towards Drake. His distraction in talking with Zeek had given him only seconds to dodge to his left and out of the way. The flame struck the trees behind him.

  “E’fri,” he countered back with his own, but the priest had gone. His flames struck the beaten trees that the man had collapsed against. “Damn,” he cursed, springing to his feet and breaking into a run after the man.

  “I doubt that would do any good youngling. Most likely he knows how to disappear quickly in these lands and we do not know if there are any others in the area.”

  Drake stopped his pursuit and lowered into a crouch with this back to the large felled tree.

  I had not thought that we would encounter any mages so early, if at all.” Zeek continued, “I was convinced that following the death of Oriomus, that the order would have collapsed, It appears I was wrong. To add to my concern, I do not know anything of their strengths or weaknesses in this current era.” Zeek seemed concerned, but Drake, was much more optimistic.

  “We saw him off at least. I think we shall need to be more wary of who we break bread with. It seems my name is well known in these parts. It would be nice to have some names to put to these people who keep talking about me.”

  “Quite,” Zeek then quickly changed his tone to a more cheery one. “It would seem your lessons have come to be of more use than your blade. A most skilful approach; using language to confuse and then to exploit an opening in his defence with a different spell.”

  “It was just lucky that those rocks were behind him and I saw them quickly enough to use them,” Drake was proud of his quick thinking and judgement in reading the man.

  “We must consider that my presence, and existence of my core, is now known by the mage order as well as the Psimere.”

  ~ 18 ~

  Journeying deeper into the realm, heading towards Mount Esdraksen, Drake and Zeek made deliberately slow progress. After the encounter with the Shadow Mage, Zeek had suggested they draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Under Zeek’s instruction, Drake had also begun building up a store of power within the Jaden gemstones set within the hilt of his two blades. At the start of each day he would draw a slow trickle from the emerald and sapphire flows around them into the gemstones. Zeek could not tell him how much an individual stone could hold as no living creature had ever tried to fill them on a daily basis before. Even during his imprisonment, Zeek had only channelled a single amount into each stone, never concentrating on any single stone. Having a store at his disposal could one day come in very useful; however, that situation would mean that they were on tainted ground where magic had yet to seep back in. To Zeek’s knowledge, only one of these places existed, but that was one of the islands off the western shore of Kelsach and due to a great battle many thousands of years ago.

  “The battle was fought with magic only; the warring groups were small in number, but great in power and skill. Even the dragons kept clear as the battle raged on. To this day, I can not say exactly how the battle came to an end, only that the magical release was unlike anything that the realms had ever seen. It seems lucky that the island played host to the battle, rather than the mainland. The spell that had been cast became of great interest to many a mage and even the younger dragons. Zeek’s memory flashed to a dragon, a good hundred years younger than himself.

  “Someone you know? Sorry, I mean knew.”

  Giving a mental sigh at the reminder of how much had changed since his time, Zeek continued. “Indeed it was. That was a young, and rather impulsive, young dragon named Mammo” he chuckled “Mammo was always getting into some kind of trouble and going where he was not supposed to. He had a strong interest in the battle and the great emptiness of magic it left behind, but was always getting into trouble with the elders.”

  Zeek shared a cupful of memories with Drake. Mammo went to the island on many an occasion. Zeek had, on more than one of these, accompanied Mammo to see the island for himself. It had been on one of these occasions that Zeek and Mammo had encountered the Shadow Mages who had also been exploring the great emptiness of magic. Mammo and Zeek had been caught off guard by their presence and so the mages had struck first.

  Images of a battle flew through Drake’s mind; he saw dragon flame extinguish two mages in an instant, yet the focus had been on Mammo, not Zeek. Eventually, overpowered, Zeek had fled for help from others.

  “It was not too long after, that we realised that they had been awaiting Mammo’s return, his capture was what they wanted all along,” he sighed, “little did I know, Mammo would be only the first of many to be ambushed and captured.”

  “So Mammo was the first dragon that the Shadow Realm captured? Knowing what you know now must only make it that much harder, knowing what happened after that da
y.”

  “It took them less than a year to try again; I can only assume that was how long Mammo managed to hold on before he was of no more use to them. Once they began again, it was less than five years until all had been caught, including myself. Oriomus had amassed so much power by then that no force seemed able to hold him.

  As silence hung in the air between the two friends, Drake walked slowly onwards, trying not to let himself be absorbed into the never ending greyness that was his surroundings.

  . . .

  The landscape of the Shadow realm was beginning to have a depressing effect on Drake’s outlook on the world. The dead and dying trees were not the most inspirational of surroundings and there was very little in the way of creatures. He would have even welcomed the company of the swine nose bat. Zeek was a relief to have as company, but having other living, breathing things around him would have made him feel a whole lot happier. No wonder no one wants to come here, it almost feels like the earth is sapping everything out of me.

  At times, as he wandered ever onward, he felt like he was becoming as grey and ragged as the scenery around him. Grey tree gave way to grey rock, gave way to brown tree and grey rock. Here and there patches of lichen and moss sprung up, defying the drain of colour that surrounded them.

  “This is merely the outer areas of the realm youngling. If what fragments of memory I have hold true, the inner areas are full of structures and some more ‘interesting’ plants.” Zeek tried to raise Drake’s spirits by talking about the vibrance and colour that would reappear in the world again.

  His feet swung onwards; even Arthure looked as though he was losing his colour as he walked slowly alongside Drake.

  “I don’t know how many more days of this I can take,” Drake admitted to his friend.

  “Perhaps a good rest will improve your view for the morrow. I would suggest looking for something a way off the beaten track and hidden out of sight. We don’t want another encounter with a mage, especially as we know nothing about the level of skill they possess.”

  Walking on through what seemed like the same stretch of the world, over and over again, Drake looked for somewhere out of sight where he could relax and recover from the oppression of the day.

  It took what felt to him like hours of walking before some small, barely pressed pathway appeared to the right hand side of the track. With weary eyes, Drake led Arthure through the overgrown path and down to a small rubble-strewn clearing. It appeared to be crumbled stonework from a dwelling, long since broken up by the persistence of nature. The ground was littered with pieces of stone and lumps of metal. The stonework appeared scorched in some places.

  “It may be possible that this dwelling was once home to a non-conformer. This close to the border would make the reach of the shadow mages stretched at times. It would seem like this could be the method of control they used.” The sadness at what was frequently done to those who did not follow the rules and beliefs of Oriomus washed over Zeek.

  Drake took a moment to look over the ruins for anything that may be of use. He found nothing of any importance, so instead turned his attention to the building itself. A section of wall still stood strong, so it was beside this that Drake made his camp. Arthure was tied to a tree on the edge of the tree line well within sight and quick reach. Laying out his blanket, he settled into a deep sleep almost as soon as his head touched the ground.

  ~ 19 ~

  Leaving Isimir proved to be more difficult than they had thought. Nethalie and Rossa, having spent the night before last huddled outside in a horrible storm, were rather reluctant to give up a warm bed and a strong roof. Rossa was the first to be ready and she slowly meandered her way along into the hallway to Nethalie’s room next door.

  “Neth? Come on sleepy head. We really need to get going. Marik will be waiting outside.” Rossa called through the firmly closed door. She knocked gently on the door “Neth. I’m coming in,” she warned as she lifted the latch and pushed the door open.

  Entering the room, Rossa saw no sign of her friend, but her pack was strewn out on the bed. Moving further inside, she could hear a soft singing coming from the wash room that adjoined the bedroom. She stood listening to the delicate notes that came from the room. It was a beautiful sound, but she could not make out the words. Moments later, Nethalie stepped out of the washroom and saw Rossa.

  “Rossa! When did you come in?”

  “Just now. I didn’t know you could sing. What other skills have you been hiding?” Rossa giggled, “are you a painter, a cook?”

  “All in good time,” Nethalie jested, “Look, I’m almost ready. I just have a final check to make sure I haven’t left anything and then we can leave. I wonder if Marik is here already with our new mounts?” Nethalie felt excitement begin to bubble within her at the next stage of their quest. They were so close to catching up with Drake now, she was sure it would be only a day or two until they did. Not that she knew what they would do or even what she would say when they finally did meet face to face.

  . . .

  The border crossing had been the worst part. Nethalie felt it through her entire body, as though a weight had been chained to her soul. It was a shock more than anything and it caught her completely by surprise. It was a feeling as if the entire world was trying to stop any sane creatures from crossing, the air seemed to get instantly colder, despite the sun still being full.

  “Bbrraaaahh,” Rossa said as she shook her body out, “Feels like someone dropped ice down my back....and not in a good way.”

  “I’m not even going to ask how you know there is a good way,” Nethalie shook her head, “I take it we have now entered the Shadow realm. It doesn’t look any different so far, but it certainly feels different.”

  “Oh yes, we have most definitely crossed over the border now. I also have no idea what to expect, I’ve read as many texts and scrolls that I could get my hands on, but that’s not saying much. There are only so many records that have been kept; even fewer have anything useful to say.”

  “Let me guess, most just say things like ‘run away’. Those sorts of helpful things that ensure you won’t be eaten alive by killer tree frogs,” Nethalie laughed at her own idea.

  Rossa giggled away, “I love it! Killer tree frogs! You really haven’t been outside the city much have you? Oh...you know...it’s the trees you have to be really afraid of! I’ve heard that there is one kind that will tickle you to death,” She loved teasing Nethalie whenever she got the opportunity.

  ~ 20 ~

  Half a day’s travel down the road, the pair entered a patch of odd looking trees. Well, more odd than the dying brown trees that surrounded them usually. There were signs of a fire, blackened bark and scorched branches covered the base of eight or so, closely clustered trees. Yet there were no signs on the ground below the trees of any fire having been lit.

  “Looks like our friend may have been practicing around here,” Rossa observed as she looked around the rest of the area, “most definitely three shots at least.”

  Nethalie walked around the site looking at the ground. “He wasn’t alone; there are signs of a second person moving around, a much larger person too. Bigger feet.”

  Rossa tilted her head as she looked over at Nethalie in puzzlement and surprise.

  “What?” Nethalie said “I didn’t have a completely sheltered upbringing. My mother taught me how to track and read the land around me.”

  Nethalie continued to look around, Rossa now watching as her friend paced the area.

  “The larger one seems to have been dragged into the clearing. There was some kind of commotion around here,” she walked to where the remains of a small fire had been then to the trio of scorched trees and crouched to the ground. “There’s blood on this rock, just a little. It looks like they made a quick getaway from here though, off into the undergrowth.”

  Rossa was impressed. She liked to think of herself as having a good intuition for picking up things, but Nethalie had just shown one of her hidden skills
.

  “I hope this slowed him up a bit and we can gain some ground on him.”

  “All this activity looks really fresh so I would guess it was only a night ago, maybe two at the most. We don’t know how long he is staying off the track before continuing onwards, so he could be close by.

  Rossa mounted back up, not wanting to waste any more time. The thrill of the chase was pumping through her veins now. “Let’s get going then. The sooner we catch him, the sooner we can get back those pieces.”

  . . .

  Night had long since fallen before Nethalie and Rossa first noticed the changes. There was a different note to the smell of the air. Continuing through the day, they had made excellent progress and hopefully gained good ground on Drake.

  “Do you smell that?” Nethalie finally said after the odour had lingered in her nose for some time, “smells like wood smoke.”

  “I think maybe we should go on foot for a while. As much as I’d like to hope that it’s him we’ve caught up to, it’s also possible that some of the locals are having an evening out.”

  They had both discussed this issue as they travelled along that day. It had seemed rather odd that they had seen neither hide nor hair of anyone else, not even a wild animal. They had also discussed what to do if they did meet a local on their travels. The plan was to pretend they were lost and looking for Isimir. Nethalie had commented that it was not the best plan, but it was they could think of at this point. They were genuinely not sure how far behind them Isimir was, so selling the lie would be easy.

  Dismounting and walking cautiously on, the smoke smell still hung in the air.

  “Whoever or whatever it is, we are heading towards it,” Rossa nudged Nethalie as they walked.