Feeling numb, the legs and body greatly weakened, Thelron could not walk, so he stood still, but knocking each necromancer that tried to strike a blow. Three men surrounded him, and as they prepared to make some kind of magic, received a stroke of a sickle, and his arms fell quickly to the ground, among the corpses piled up. The despair gripped the other necromancers, who tried to flee without even trying to help their wounded comrades.
Realizing that Thelron had been hit hard by the touch of rot, Salur put him over the saddle of his horse, and after a few hours on the road, they were already facing the city gates of Shannen.
“I’m sorry for not helping you as much as I should.”, said the necromancer with a weak voice.
“Do not blame yourself for things that are not within your reach. Soon we are inside the Gulinnar’s castle. He is a good paladin who can find a cure, and will also teach you something that I wanted you to learn.”
Thelron raised his eyebrows with an air of surprise, and replied:
“I hope this time he might know a better way.”
“Do not worry, it will be better than to mess with the magic of the dead.”
Three more hours passed, and then they arrived in front of the castle with big red flags atop the towers. The necromancer approached some soldiers, and took a bow that was completely ignored by them. Salur withdrew his grimoire of white coating inside of his bag and said:
“I want to speak with Gulinnar. Is he here?”
“Yes, but he is too busy in a meeting.”
“Okay, I’ll enter anyway. Excuse me.”
The soldiers went in front to try to stop until one of them seemed very dirty with no upper teeths in the mouth, and said something yellowish while spitting on the floor:
“I know you’re Salur, the divine messenger.”
The other men looked confused, but remained immobile, Thelron crossed the vast green carpet of the corridor and into the face of a great hall, inhabited by some cockroaches. Salur kept his weapon while oblivious to some insects, making a strange noise.
“How long I do not see you? From the time you and Thelron helped me to build the castle, right? And who is this old man with you?”, said Gulinnar, while being petted and hugged by two elvish girls who wore exotic and luxurious dresses, with delicate necklines that was almost revealing their breasts.
“It’s Thelron, I know you will not believe, but something happened that made him to grow old quickly.”
The necromancer looked fascinated to one of the elves, who firmly held a wide range red, shaking and alleviating the sweat from the face sunburned from the paladin. Gulinnar rose slowly while wearing his armor, and then said:
“As of today, will be a new man. You shall think of creating my dimensional portals.”
Once arrived in the Forest of the Spirits, Sgnilliv remembered with joy of the confusion that happened in his tabern, and all the drunk clients expelled by him. It had been a good season, but now he should concentrate on his guild, and in some apprentice magicians who always showed up to ask for work, or to learn new spells. As he walked into a track covered by large trees, found an appalling trail of destruction, which showed some signs of recent battle. The mutant elves was hidding throughout the forest, so the goblin mage tried to be more alert to any strange noise.
He walked for a few more hours until arriving at the camp of his tribe, and looked in wonder at the new tents, decorated with red war paint. Spears, shields and swords, all weapons had been forged and repaired by the blacksmith goblins.
“What are you doing here? You’re not one of ours, so you can go away!”, cried Shiiv, after he finished making a wooden spear.
“Just because I’m a magician, does not mean that I decided to leave you. Father, understand that I am not against you, much less would not do anything to harm the tribe.”
With his face red with anger, Shiiv was catching every spear that he had done, and threw more than thirty of them against a huge bonfire that the goblins had prepared. Shouting meaningless words, as if some force to take care of his body, climbed into one of fifty horses of the tribe, and left without even saying goodbye to any of them.
“Wait, dad, what are you doing?”, shouted Sgnilliv, entering in the front of the horse.
“Get out my face, you are not my son!”
The goblin mage ran behind his desperate father, but when he realized that no good would make any effort, he sat on the grass, very depressed and disappointed.
He looked at the crystal, green clear waters that ran through the trees all through the forest, and spent much time thinking about what would be his best decision. One of the goblins came walking slowly, pulled his hand red ink on Sgnilliv’s shoulder and said:
“Do not worry about it. We decided that your father will no longer be our leader.”
“What?”, Sgnilliv rose a bit confused.
“You will stay in his place.”
“But I can not leave my guild. Hanneris is already experiencing many problems.”
“You want to see this!”, the goblin pointed to some tribal members who were gathered near one of the tents, “They’re all dying, you father did nothing to help them, not even showed any interest in seeking support. “
“But why are they hurt?”, Sgnilliv looked amazed, near the tent, there were many, they were very skinny, they could not survive for long time.
“The mutant elves invaded the camp, they were many. We could not contain the big attack they did.”
Sgnilliv felt he could not to leave them, then remembered Ellen. She would be the better choice if I had to leave the guild for some time. The goblin magician extended his hands in the air, and a big ball of fire came quickly. He hurled the ball against some tents that were in terrible shape, and then most of the camp was in flames.
“I want to throw away all your useless stuff, or not in good condition. We’re going out from here now. The mutant elves might appear at any time. Get ready!”
The goblins looked surprised, but at the same time amazed by the new leader of the tribe.
10
End Of Dreams
Looking closely at the charred body of necromancer
around on the covered ground with volcanic ash, and the skeleton almost completely melted in the river of lava flowing through the Kingdom of the Elementals, Edryon arose from atop a small rock where he was sitting, and then smiled broadly. Snow walked away a few feet, shaking the wings smoothly. It was great to destroy those damned, who committed atrocities in the past, at the time the gray elf was just a young slave boy. Rasputin would be proud to know that the child he had saved and raised for twenty years on the Island of the Gnomes, was now a great skilled warrior.
The elf had begun his new diary of victories. Despite feeling severe pain in his left ear and his arm, he tried to ignore. He continued flying over the Kingdom of the Elementals, then something strange caught his eye. A big strong bluish light was shining behind one of the volcanic mountains. The elf settled down with his skeleton griffin near the local. He noticed that near the light there was a few pieces of a scroll. It was as if someone had just done some magic. He found that light was actually a dimensional portal, and he did not think twice. The griffin came along with him and then they appeared within the Hanneris’s city.
While flying over some houses, Snow was beating his wings, spreading a gray powder, which terrified all citizens. Edryon, leaning against a tree, said to Agmar:
“He’s still a bit hectic. So i let him flying over the city.”
“You have been smart, when I met you. Did you drink something different in your travels?”, said Agmar, smiling and flipping through a book about building ships.
“The crazy here is not me.”, Edryon slapped on the right shoulder of the druid, which made him to abandon his friendly face.
“Edryon, I do not understand why you’re still in Hanneris.” “I do not know if you know, but the Kingdom of the Elementals was my last trip.”
“Did you killed Kordius or Thar
onnak?”
“None.”
“Then you lost your time again. I knew you could not to do something worthwhile. You are too undisciplined, Edryon. You need to choose a path. I saw Tharonnak tonight.”
“How did you find?”
“In the southern mountains, near the town of Shannen. He seems angry, flew over people while shouting your name. He’s looking for you, Edryon. Be very careful.”
“But I know that. Agmar, what happened to your roof?”
“Nothing much. It’s just a little hole.”
“I can help you. I’ll get into your house and your roof will soon be repaired.”
Agmar seemed quite annoyed, then replied:
“I told you, it is nothing more. Do not worry about it, Edryon.”
The gray elf began to climb the house of the old druid, and then got on a part of the roof, causing it to break more tiles, falling over some furniture in the house.
“What are you doing up there? Come down now, there was only a small hole, but now you destroyed my roof!”
“Calm down, it was not anything else, just a few loose tiles, soon everything will be reformed, almost like before. Do you have a hammer?”
“Oh yes, I’ll show you the hammer in the middle of your head, you moron! Go away!”, Agmar shouted in a rage even greater. Edryon, very scared, got down the house, stumbling and falling over a pile of hay that was on the side of a cart.
Then, coming out soon on the road, the elf was walking to get close to a large cornfield. The place was near the Thornak’s farm, a dwarf who lived there alone all the time. When he approached the stable area full of well treated horses, he took a wooden bowl and a piece of branch that was on grass. He tied a rope to the branch, to create a sort of trap to catch birds. He spent the afternoon stuffing corn cobs under the basin and capturing crows.
He arrived at his home in a hurry. When he realized that Thelron was not in his room, Edryon opened the wooden chest where Thelron was laying his magic books. He took one of them: The Mystery of the Mummies. This not served him. He picked up another book: The Queen of the Pit, it also did not serve for anything. Until finally he seemed to have found the book he was looking for: How to Create Undead. He putted the book under his arm, and closed the trunk again. Edryon was anxious to read some spells.
He putted the eight birds within one of his large cages. He followed flying mounted with Snow, into the graveyard of Hanneris. After getting off the animal, he pulled and destroyed with many kicks some stone crosses. When he opened the book he was looking for, he realized that most spells did not serve him. He impatiently began to tear the pages until to reach the right magic of resurrection. Five hours were enough for a bunch of rabid zombies that were created. The undeads tore their tombs impressively, and Edryon, with great difficulty and a few punches and blows launches, managed to tie them and leave them virtually immobile. He would stay there as long as was necessary to train his crows.
Crossing the empty road in the darkness, illuminated only by the dim light of the full moon, Thelron rode tuned. Some red eyes watched him behind the trees. Salur followed with his horse ahead. A persistent light wind cooled his body. Thelron remembered his past as a necromancer and all things that he should not have done. He looked around, and listened long howls that echoed through the region. Hungry wolves used to wait for their victims behind mounds of earth. Then after a few hours, they finally reached the town of Hanneris.
When they passed through the iron gates of the main entrance, Thelron looked at all the bodies strewn along the road, and immediately got down from his horse. Houses collapsed, screaming women and looking for their children, giant worms devouring children, it was needed an urgent help for even the walking druids in chains, breaking stones and receiving lashes of cruel men.
“It’s horrible, that.”, said Thelron, “if I could at least help them all. Salur, I want to be part of the Temple of the Clerics.”
The cleric looked up at him with an expression of indifference, and replied:
“It is time to solve it.”
Thelron closed his expression in a certain air of intolerance, he continued walking, following the cleric, and looked at a house in flames. An elvish girl, crying a lot, and with his torned clothes, revealing nearly all of her delicate body, knelt near the two men, and raised her trembling hand. Salur bent down and hugged her gently and told her, almost whispering:
“My dear, do not cry. Where is your family?”
“The huge worms ate my mother. She did not deserve it! She was good to everyone, I do not want to stay here!”
Salur then looked surprised to Thelron, which had entered into a destroyed house, completely covered with shattered remains of giant worms. He returned holding a large piece of curtain very dirty, then the elf said:
“Here, cover yourself.”
The elvish girl looked at him with an expression not pleasant, but still took the cloth full of small white grubs.
“Listen, I spent all these days traveling with you, and now you tell me I can not to become a cleric?”, Thelron yelled, very nervous.
“Calm down, everything has its time. If we are here now is to help people.”
Thelron did not think twice, walked alone and rushed by road as Salur tried to follow him.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Find someone who is less stupid,” said Thelron, very angry.
When approached a crowd of elves who took refuge inside an ancient shrine, Thelron raised his silver scythe and shouted:
“Do you want some help?”
Some elves came to him, despite being very scared, and they knelt, begging for food. The necromancer violently threw his scythe on the floor, and opened his backpack, then delivered five pieces of stale bread to the elves, who were struggling, battling for the meager meal.
Thelron felt increasingly like to help anyone who needed food, or cures. Most elves of the sanctuary now showed great gratitude for the necromancer, who was still confused because he thought his attitude as something that should be done. He got out of nearly everyone, and walked slowly toward his home, thinking about his recent experiences. He never wanted to get involved with forbidden spells, and even did not had pleasure in reading all his old books, full of strange and macabre rituals. The necromancer now thought of becoming anything more than a poor man, enslaved in his evil mind.
He opened the door to his room. When he looked at his soaked blood, dried in the carpet and gray rats that ate up chunks of wood, he sat on his bed of straw. He needed to clear his mind, needed to purify all the things that surrounded him. He took an old broom of Cape Verde, with great difficulty and tried to clean up the mess he found in the front. Two hours passed, cockroaches, rats and scorpions were all exterminated and and thrown the garbage into a big brown bucket. The room was completely clean but he still needed to finish one last task.
He unlocked his old wooden chest, took forty grimoires and magical books of nature necromantic, played all out the window, having torn up the most pages. He was relieved, and at the same time cleansed of all his past. Thelron wanted to show the world that he could be a good cleric, although Salur did not agree with that. He looked at his silver sickle, and remembered all the cruel attacks that he had strucked almost without reason, against people he considered stupid or coward. He pulled the sharp blade of his cape, as he thought of a way to reuse it.
Leaving the camp quickly, while wielding a spear of war very well crafted, Sgnilliv was eager to fill his basket with straw as much fish he could catch. The last few days had not been easy for his tribe, so he decided it would be better to find some food. He arrived in front of a portion of the creek where the water was more clean and clear, and looked at the stream, placing his spear as he watched if he could find something that moved beneath the waters. Three large fish passed him at a great speed, but the goblin mage managed to hit his spear at one of them.
“You’re really incompetent. You still have not learned to fish, right? Ignored m
y words again.”, Shiiv said, slowly approaching, riding a white horse.
“Father, forgive me for these days. You’re right, I had to have listened to you more.”
“No. You’ve always been useless. You’ve never done anything to provide, and will not listen to anyone. It’s a stubborn!”
Shiiv dismounted, seemed totally out of control, approached the goblin mage, and dropped his basket of fish into the creek with a violent kick.
“Wait, what are you doing?”, said Sgnilliv while trying to recover something of what was caught.
“They told me everything. Now you are their leader, is not it?”
“Yes, but it was not me who had chosen. The tribe needed support.”
“Support?”, shouted Shiiv, “Do you call this support? Staying fishing, ignoring everyone, acting like a child?”
“You never helped. All of them left destitute, without food, without cures, without anything.”
“No, the fault was not mine! They’re idiots who do not know even to hunt.”
Sgnilliv approached in an attempt to calm his father, but when he touched his shoulder, received a violent blow on his face. He walked toward the brook to get the hay basket, Shiiv pulled him violently by the arm and shouted:
“A leader does not do stupid things! A leader does not sit, hoping that everything will improve. I wanted you to die soon! So I would not be so ashamed!”
The goblin mage watched his father with sorrow, he noticed that his eyes revealed a strange and disturbing essence of evil.
“Pack your things! Do not be standing here, waiting for some miracle to save the tribe!”, Shiiv shouted again.
The goblin mage turned to take his backpack that was on the grass, looked up and saw a large net of hunting falling down over him. He tried to move, but every time he lifted his hands to make some magic ritual, Shiiv was giving strong kicks to him.
Edryon (Book 1 of Edryon Trilogy) Page 8