by P D Ceanneir
Ness Ri watched as the prince, dressed in deerskin trousers, high-cuffed boots and a leather jerkin, fumble with the harness straps of his scabbard as he buckled the Sword that Rules onto his back.
‘Good evening, my Lord. Welcome to the land of the living,’ chuckled the Ri as a pale-faced Havoc staggered towards him. ‘Apologies for the wake-up call, but Mirryn and I thought it was the best way, she was most helpful.’
Havoc peered at Mirryn through the bright sunlight. She was perched on one of the monoliths.
‘Traitor!’ he said, but the bird chirped and preened her left wing.
‘Come now. Step into the circle,’ said the Ri in an offhand way.
Havoc did so without asking why then realised what he was doing and he so stopped in front of the low plinth and turned with a confused look towards Lord Ness.
‘Why am I in the circle Master, my I ask?’
‘Because you will be travelling the Drift,’ informed Lord Ness without looking round at the prince as he walked towards the nearest stone column and touched it. He began mumbling something under his breath, which the prince could not hear but knew he was reciting a Skrol Cantrip to activate the Driftcircle, a crossroad of energy streams underground. The whole circle of tall standing stones pulsed once with bright light and thrummed with energy. Mirryn flew off with a disgusted squawk.
‘THE DRIFT!?’ Havoc shouted his eyes wide, ‘but I thought only the Ri’s could travel the Drift?’
‘That is true, but so can Rawn Masters, if a Ri sends them. Now please step onto the dais, my lord.’ Havoc did so. He had much trust in his old maser but was still very apprehensive.
‘Where are you sending me?’ he asked.
‘To the Wild Lands of the Nithi, where your solution to the Ancarryn problem lives,’ said Lord Ness grinning with enjoyment.
‘THE NITHI!’ Havoc was getting worried. The energy within the stones vibrated louder as the Ri charged them up some more. He felt a tickling sensation run through his body.
‘You will exit at the Rings of Relin,’ continued his Master as he ignored the prince’s last outburst. ‘Head south to the Bone Mountains; there you will find a path to a cave mouth where you will find her.’
‘Find who?’
‘Ciriana.’ Ness Ri closed his eyes and focused on the Drift energy and it’s connection to the Rings of Relin.
‘The prophet! How can she help me? Will she tell me the outcome of the Ancarryn?’ Havoc was intrigued to learn he was about to meet the mysterious and famous prophet, a long-time friend of Lord Ness.
‘Maybe, then again, maybe not; that is not how she will help you. Now prepare yourself!’
‘Shit!’ Havoc looked around apprehensively. A shimmering glow, blue and white, was emanating from the ten surrounding stones, ‘this is going to hurt, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, pretty much,’ the smile had not left the Ri’s face. Havoc could see he was enjoying himself.
‘Wait!’ Havoc held up his hand, ‘what do I say to her?’
The Ri opened his eyes and looked straight into Havoc’s, ‘tell her you are the Blacksword; after all, she was the one who came out with the prophesy.’
‘The Blacksword Prophecy!’ Havoc was stunned, ‘but that means she is at least five hundred years old.’
‘Oh, she is more than that,’ said the Ri, ‘but it’s best not to mention her age, she gets a little tetchy about it.’
Before Havoc could question his master any further, he felt a strange heat course through him, heat and chill all at the same time. A stretching sensation followed it and Ness Ri disappeared in front of him. Yellow and bluish-white streams of energy filtered in and out of his vision, a disjointed feeling spread through him as if his soul was being pulled from his body. He screamed but it was drowned out by the whooshing noise in his ears.
The transport to the Ring of Relin was instantaneous, yet he felt that the transfer went on forever; a sensation called Drift Lag, An unseen force pulled his body into a thin stream of particles and matter through the Dragon Lanes. He was still screaming when he appeared on the stone circles dais.
He looked around him. Wisps of mist hugged the ground like heavy wood smoke. The Circle of Relin was similar to Carras, only with eight stones and slightly smaller. The terrain outside of it was barren and desolate with black rocks. Over to the east were the remains of the old fort walls that existed during the time of the Dragor-rix and once encircled the Driftring field.
‘Well that wasn’t so bad,’ he said, and then the pain hit him.
It was like every fibre of his body was being pushed back together by the clumsy hands of an inept god. His body tingled from head to toe, similar to blood rushing back into a numbed limb, only more painful. He yelled and fell onto the stony ground hugging his stomach. If he had had breakfast that morning then it would have vacated his belly by now. He now understood why Ri’s rarely travelled the Drift, but he still cursed Lord Ness for sending him via this route.
‘Why couldn’t I have come by horse?’ he groaned to himself.
Because you are in enemy territory and would have struggled to get this far, you fool! said the voice of the Blacksword like a distant voice of his sub-conscious mind.
‘Good point.’ The Blacksword, Havoc knew, was a sleeping warrior at times, only giving wry comments where the need arose, but he was more in evidence when the prince was in possession of SinDex. Both ethereally linked on a level that the prince did not understand.
Outside the Circle of Relin was a thin path leading to high mountains in the distance. He could see their peeks above the mist. He staggered onto the path still smarting from the pain of the Drift, though fortunately, his hangover had disappeared.
‘Don’t think much of the cure,’ he surmised.
He had the feeling that through the mist was a vast desolate plain; he looked north and saw the twin peaks of Dracolinth-sol, the two active volcanoes. Thin vapours of black smoke issued from their mouths. He did not sense any life form close to him, so he strode along the path with purposeful strides and into the eerie silence of the land around him.
‘Driftwalking is not an experience I wish to have again in a hurry,’ said the prince to the Blacksword by way of conversation now that the road looked long and void of anything more interesting to talk about.
So I could sense from you, but I did not share your pain, informed the Blacksword in his usual harsh whisper.
‘Truly?’ Havoc was surprised at the comment.
I never do.
The prince frowned. There were times, since the days when the persona of the Blacksword grew in power, when he had difficulty in fathoming the true nature and existence of such an entity. The fact that his alter ego did not feel his pain, and now that he thought about it, he neither felt the Blacksword’s emotions, was very interesting.
He wondered why the Blacksword existed in him. This was something he could not bring himself to ask the entity that shared his body, for the Blacksword would ask the same question of him. It was while thinking about this conundrum that the Blacksword spoke again.
I have often pondered our “uniqueness” while resting in the dark confines of your mind. I have concluded that the Sword that Rules influences us to a level that is far beyond our understanding.
‘That much I figured, but why?’ asked Havoc.
Not sure. One thing is for certain, we will certainly find out together.
‘Ha!’
After an hour’s walk the path steepened as it reached the foot of the mountains. The mist cleared a little as the day wore on and he saw some stunted shrubs, rough grass and nothing much else. He knew the Circle of Relin was situated near the centre of the Wild Lands on the outskirts of the volcanic territory were mountain slopes, at the plain’s fringes, rose to lush moor land and forests at a higher altitude, but as he walked a zigzagged route up the mountain, all he found was harsh weeds and fire burnt trees.
‘Surely these trees are too far away from the limit of the twin v
olcanoes eruption zone?’ he said.
Correct. Havoc could sense the Blacksword nodding in agreement. Something else did this.
In fact, as Havoc scanned the barren ground around him, he found most of the vegetation scorched. In the distance, he could see trees with twisted blackened limbs. The pattern of burning, when he reached the summit of a high slope, looked like long slashes scarring the ground as if it had been scorched by a single stream of flame.
‘This place gives me the creeps.’
Presently he came to a handwritten sign that read: “BONE MOONTINES” poorly spelt but at least he was heading in the right direction. The sun bleached sign pointed up towards the path and the path wound through rocky boulders that he had to climb over to stick to the route or end up missing the route through the rocks entirely.
He wondered if Ciriana was a Ri, her age clearly pointed to that assumption, but why would she live out here in this gods forsaken place?
As he climbed higher the wind picked up, blowing away some of the mist to reveal more of the desolate landscape, harsh and bleak. It looked as though it had been abandoned by all but the hardiest life forms, and even then, there was little sign of life apart from the odd passing bird. He wondered again if the prophet was mad to stay here or just liked the seclusion.
He found another signpost as the path turned, it said,“TO THE CRYSTAL CAVE” underneath the bold handwriting was a smaller sign saying,“SHE WILL BROOK NO TRESPASS, FRIENDS WELCOME.”
‘Now I’m confused, this sounds a bit contradictory. How is she going to know I’m a friend if I don’t trespass?’
Maybe you have to ring a doorbell or something. Perhaps you should have brought a gift, said the Blacksword sarcastically.
Havoc walked on a few more yards and as the path wove round the corner of an angular cliff ledge, he stumbled upon the cave opening, it was high, wide, and very dark. However, the uninviting dark maw of the cave mouth paled in comparison to the scattering of white bones that was strewn all around the approach to the entrance.
‘This is not a good sign,’ said Havoc as he wandered through the field of skeletal remains.
I agree, but they look like sheep or goat carcasses, maybe this is the famed ruminants burial ground.
‘Oh, you’re funny.’
He picked up a leg bone and wound some dry moss and tree bark around it. He lit it with the fire element and ventured into the cave. Holding the torch high it barely sliced through the gloom and the going was slow, he heard dripping water close by, and when he found it running down the walls, he took a drink and pressed onward.
The cave opened up further as he rounded a wide bend and he had an impression that it was bigger than he expected. Light up ahead confirmed his suspicions as he walked into vast and spectacular room.
The cave came to a dead end, but not the end of the journey, for in front of him was the inside of the mountain itself, hollowed out eons ago buy ancient volcanic activity. The walls of the vast cavern rose high towards the round opening of the volcanoes cone where sunlight streamed in lightening up the cavern. The far wall of the cavern, Havoc judged, was at least a mile distant.
The light in the cavern was beautiful. The walls gleamed and glistened, sparkling in the light, for it was made entirely of volcanic gems of varying colours and tones. The light would change subtly as the sunbeams skidded off them as it tracked the myriad of crystal veins in the wall. The phenomenon was hypnotic.
He walked forward and saw islands stretching out before him. These vertical columns of glittering rock towered out of the base of the mountain. Havoc looked down and saw red rivers of lava, at least two miles below, running in-between these towering rock structures. All of these islands were in a similar level; he surmised that some time ago one would be able to walk to the other side of the cavern but over time lava flows or earthquakes had eroded away the ground to leave these formations of denser rocks. He noticed manmade walkways of wood and stone on some of the distant stacks. Certain areas by the walls close the main entrance had ruined buildings surrounded by the collapsed walls of an ancient fort.
Havoc threw away his torch and walked into the spacious cavern. Rubies, emeralds, and diamonds littered the ground, there must be a fortune in gems under his feet alone, but why had no one come here to become rich? The sign outside proved that the Crystal Cave was no secret.
Use my eyes to see across to the far wall, said the Blacksword. Havoc knew what he was asking. In the distance, the vast walls of the cavern were hard to see through a thin miasma of steam and smoke, but not to the keen eyes of the Blacksword.
As soon as his alter ego came into dominance the far wall was revealed through the haze of gleaming gems.
‘Caves,’ said the Blacksword, ‘lots of them, though there is no way to get to them.’
What’s that up ahead? Havoc said.
The Blacksword looked, the flat platform they were standing on stretched into the cavern. A narrow natural bridge led to another of the tall islands upon which was a manmade construction. As the Blacksword walked over the bridge, he could clearly see a crude brick arch, ten feet high with chains and manacles on it. As he got closer, he saw the remains of an arm bone on one of the manacles. The rest of the skeleton had fallen to the ground through time. It was human and judging by the tattered clothing, female.
Human sacrifice, do you think?
‘Well I bloody hope it’s not Ciriana.’
The Blacksword allowed Havoc to take over dominance and the prince looked around him. On the floor behind the arch lay scattered human remains, bleached and ancient. At the east end of the island on Havoc’s right was a brass bell hooked onto a wooden post. As he walked towards it,he saw a sign saying:PLEASE RING THREE TIMES FOR SERVICE.
He looked at the litter of skeletons behind the arch and then at the sign.
‘Something tells me not to ring it,’ said Havoc.
Ahh...but it does say please, said the Blacksword just as sceptically.
‘Bugger it! I did not come all this way to go back empty handed. We came here to find Ciriana and that is what I intend to do.’ Therefore, he rang the bells clapper three times. The echo resounded right through the vast cavern, bouncing off the far walls and spiralling out of the cone mouth, the sound was enhanced by the funnel.
Oh great, now we are going to have the whole Nithi army upon us!
‘Don’t exaggerate.’
When the sound of the bell died away, silence filled the cavern. Havoc cocked his head to listen for any sound of movement. All he heard was the sound of his own breathing. He contemplated ringing the bell again and felt struck by a sense of embarrassment; he realised he was wasting his time.
‘What are we doing here? What would a famous prophet like Ciriana be doing in a place like this?’
Before he got an answer from the Blacksword a loud rumbling sound vibrated through the ground. At first he thought it was an earthquake then the sound came again, only louder.
That’s coming from one of the caves openings on the far wall, informed the Blacksword.
Sure enough, the sound was getting louder as it emitted from one of the caves that sat just above eye level. A large dark mass exited it at a rush, roaring as it went. Its mass fell into the abyss where the stacks of crystal columns grew out off the lava lake. It plunged incredibly fast into the darkness. Boiling lava burst in tight plumes as if welcoming the plummeting shape to its certain dome. However, as Havoc watched the distant figure fall, he saw the body of the thing grow bigger from both sides. Suddenly, it lifted into the air quickly as the thermals from the Lava Rivers caught it and it shot upwards with surprised ease for such a large bulk. The sunbeams glanced off its long body. Havoc got a brief image of large green scales and membranes of bat like wings before it moved out of the shafts of light. There was a whooshing sound as the wings flapped and it issued a loud primeval roar, which bounced off the walls, as it flew closer.
‘I don’t believe what I’m seeing!’ He said moving backwa
rds away from the edge.
The air displaced around the creature like a weak gale as it crested the island where Havoc stood. Its massive bulky body twisted around in the air to get a better look at him while it landed with a graceful thump on the platform island near the cave entrance, blocking his exit, its four lethal looking talons digging into the ground as it alighted.
The long neck turned the flat horse like head towards him. Long upright ears with sharp points twitched in his direction, serpent eyes fixed him to the spot with their evil stare. The nostrils flared as black plumes of smoke issued from them. It opened its mouth to reveal a red forked tongue behind long white, and very sharp, teeth.
Its roar nearly burst his eardrums; flecks of white spittle saturated the air in front of him.
It’s a dragon, a bloody dragon! said the Blacksword excitedly.
‘Yes, thank you for that shrewd analysis, how are we going to get out of this?’ Havoc whispered through gritted teeth.
The green iridescent scales of the dragon bunched as the muscles under them flexed along its ridged back. It crept forward in an attacking stance. The long pointed tail swaying slightly behind it, counterbalancing the bulky body. Its wings of skin membrane, thin as leather, tucked into its sides. The large nostrils flared, breathing in Havoc’s scent.
The dragon opened its mouth and the great lungs took in a large amount of air. Havoc and the Blacksword did not have to bandy dialogue to know what was going to happen next.
Jump for gods sakes, jump! Screamed the Blacksword in his head and Havoc used the wind element to jump to the nearest island just as the stream of flame from the dragons mouth slammed into the ground where he had stood. The warmth from the flame slammed into his back and he almost overshot the stacks outer edge as he skidded along the structure’s flat surface. He regained his balance and turned just as the dragon took off. The long, wide wings flapped twice and then it was in the air. Havoc wondered how a creature of such size and weight could be supported in the air by such thin wings. He had no time to ponder and no room to move as the dragon hovered a dozen feet in front of him. There was another whoosh as the creature sucked in another lungful and he braced himself for the rush of flame that spewed from the creatures gaping mouth.