by TP Keane
*
They had marched for many hours without a break, and dehydration had murdered more ogres. But they were so close to him that Aria couldn't stop her pursuit for something as mundane as water. There was no Edwel to persuade her otherwise either. The footsteps in the sandy road ahead of them were deep and unmoved by the gentle winds. One pair of shoes walked the path boldly, while the other criss-crossed between the bushes. Further down the road, it seemed that the second had lost its shyness, and now the two pairs of prints walked together.
Aria had been so intent on tracking Aramus and the wizard, that she was almost inside the village before she realised there was one there. It was only when the tracks disappeared and gave way to cobbled stone, did she look up. Everywhere around her, people bustled, carts rumbled, and loud clangs emanated from the sole blacksmith in town. Fused with the smell of horse dung and smoke, the acrid air made Aria wrinkle her nose in disgust.
"Spread out," she said. "Look for any clue that they have been here and report back to me."
With a collective grunt the ogre army fanned out through the town, roughly tossing large baskets aside, and barging their way into people's homes. Shouts of objections and a few screams of terror, rang out from the small village as Aria made her way toward the centre.
"Your Majesty, Your Majesty," came the voice of three men speaking as one. "How lovely it is to see you here. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"I am looking for a hunchback and a wizard," she said, curiously eying the identical men in red suits.
She had a particular distaste for men who spent too long grooming their facial hair. In her opinion, men who fastidiously drew attention to such an outwardly feature did it to draw the eye away from something else. These three men had the most immaculately groomed moustaches she had ever seen, which made her mistrust them immediately.
"Have you seen them?"
"Oh, we were hoping you would ask that," they chortled in apparent delight. "There is no need to keep searching, we will tell you everything. A hunchback has not passed through here, but a wizard and a winged man have. Are they the ones you seek?"
Aria felt her heart leap into her mouth.
"How long ago did they pass?" she asked, taking a step closer to the three strange men.
"Not less than two hours ago," one of them replied. "They are heading toward the badlands."
"And they are seeking an audience with the king of Balbuldor," the two others said.
"King?" Aria snorted in disgust. "There is no king beneath the ground. I am the only monarch of Naretia."
"Our apologies, Your Highness, we meant no offence," they replied with a bow.
Aria ignored the reverence of the three oddly dressed men and focused on the more imperative question at hand.
"Did they tell you why they are looking for him?"
"No, they did not," the three said. "But you should be aware that this wizard is no ordinary wizard."
"What do you mean?" Aria narrowed her eyes.
"This wizard is none other than Ol?rin Talfan," the three whispered.
Aria took a step back from the men again. She eyed each one of them, carefully scrutinising their features for any tell-tale sign that they were lying. There was no twitching of the eye, no glancing to the side, no fiddling of fingers, nothing that would indicate a falsehood. It was then that Aria felt her heart sink and her resolve falter.
She had known that Aramus travelled with an Elder wizard, as was denoted by his brown cloak. But never having had a good look at the wizard, she was entirely unaware that the Supreme himself had decided to travel with this murderer. In the hierarchy of the wizard caste, the Supreme Wizard was as powerful as they get, as close to a God as any mortal can achieve, and most probably the only one who could stop her from avenging her parent's deaths.
Aria absently clutched at the amulet around her neck, silently called for her army of ogres to cease their searching and advance to her location. They diligently obeyed, and soon an orderly line of ogres stood behind her. But even with the surge of power she always felt when she used the amulet, Aria couldn't help but feel impotent.
"You are worried, Our Queen?" the three said.
"You think he is unbeatable?" said the first.
"We know that he is not," the three said together.
"I am tired of being fed riddles," Aria hissed at the three men, before roughly pulling the middle one up by his neatly pressed shirt collar, choking him. "Tell me what you know or I will see to it that the Trithonian becomes only one. Yes, that's right, I know what you are." The three men held their hands over their necks, gasping, like all of them were being strangled at once.
"Gladly, gladly," they whimpered. "We do not wish to seem mistrustful, only we are ancient and speak with the words of different ages. We promise to be more forthright, Your Majesty."
"Tell me then, how do I defeat Ol?rin? How do I slay the Supreme Wizard of Naretia?"
Even as she said it, the words seemed wrong somehow, like having to put ones hand through flames to reach a prized jewel. A small voice warned her that she would get burned if she tried to take on the Supreme Wizard, but she so desperately wanted that jewel.
"His biggest weakness lies in his heart," they said through gasps. "He will do anything to save that young man. He will lay down his staff and willingly give himself to the mercy of your sword, all for the sake of love."
"Love? How does that help me?" she said hotly, dropping the middle man with a frustrated shove. The three men stumbled backwards and collectively sighed with relief.
"When you hunt deer, where the arrow lands will be the difference between failure and success," said the first.
"If you hit it in the leg it may stop running for a time, but it still can kick and hurt you," said the second.
"If you hit it in the shoulder it may carry on running and escape you," said the third.
"But if you hit it in the heart, it will stop dead," they said together. "Ignore the wizard as you battle, and focus your attention on the young man. Holding his life to ransom is the key to defeating the Supreme Wizard."
Aria contemplated what the three men had said, but in the heat of battle she wasn't too sure how much use their advice would be. Her ultimate goal was to kill Aramus, but in order to do that she would have to go through Ol?rin. To get past Ol?rin they say she would have to hold Aramus to ransom, although, she wasn't convinced that they knew exactly how deadly Aramus was. It was a no win scenario. Aria ran her hand through her curly, red hair in frustration before fixing her blue eyes on the three men again.
"Why do you want to help me? I thought the wizards were the rulers of this land, not me. Why risk defying them?" she asked.
"More than two centuries ago," the first said with a scowl. "Ol?rin Talfan wronged us more deeply than you can imagine."
"Now, we are trapped within these three," they said in unison. "Our voices are many and the walls of these bodies echo our sounds loudly. A being, such as ours, is not meant to be confined like caged animals. It is a torture that is unrelenting, and all for the sake of a little bit of thievery. But with his death, his spell shall be broken and we shall, once again, be free."
Aria wasn't sure she liked the sound of that, but before she had a chance to think on it, a series of heavy stone footsteps racing down the cobbled roads of the village caught her attention.
Edwel's large stone body appeared in the distance. On his face he wore a stupidly sunny grin, and over his shoulder were the blue robes of a dark-haired junior wizard. Mullrode kicked and hit the golem furiously, shouting obscenities at the stone man for "interrupting his work and kidnapping him". Edwel was non-to-bothered by the insults or the thumping. Choosing to ignore it, he waved at Aria and, with a cheery call yelled, "Coo-wee".
"Do you know him?" the Trithonain asked with a snigger.
"I do," she replied flatly, "And if you are not gone from here by the time I take my next breath, I will ask him to sit on all t
hree of your heads until they pop like rotten eggs."
Aria took a beat and when she glanced behind her, the only remaining sign of the three strange men was the trading house door swinging closed behind them. Overly groomed facial hair or not, the Trithonian couldn't be trusted with the information that she might have to force out of the struggling wizard.