“Let me go!”
“This is to learn to not disobey a parent! Next time think of your incompetence, and never disrespect me.”
After receiving violent blows until to fall unconscious, several hours passed, then Sgnilliv awoke and looked around. He realized he was tied on top of a large wooden table, and still felt strong pain in his face and the rest of the body. Observed scarely his father approaching, but walking with difficulties. His left leg was covered with maggots. The goblin mage then remembered that his father did not like to receive healing, he rather preferred the nature to take care of everything. Shiiv held a huge battle-ax, then took a whetstone and carefully went over the bar.
“I hope you understand what I’m doing, son. It’s for your own good.”
Sgnilliv looked increasingly scared for the ax, his father walked toward him, his eyes were empty and at the same time with a destructive intolerance. Shiiv lifted the heavy weapon, at that moment the world was ended for the goblin mage. The blade ripped the momentary silence, violently hitting the left arm of Sgnilliv.
The next day, the goblin mage woke in the middle of a forest, and quickly recalled the discussion with his father and the axe that had hit his arm. Sgnilliv did not look down, preferring to believe that everything was okay, that was just a nightmare and that everything would get better. He felt a sharp pain that came and went away, he continued with his eyes closed, trying to remember things that still made sense. Ellen, Edryon, Rasputin… all the friends who were still at his side, in the more difficult times.
He felt that one day would know something more than bigotry. Never wanted to see his father, a growing hatred invaded his thoughts. He looked down, he realized he no longer had his left arm. Sgnilliv could no longer to hold Ellen, fishing and even casting spells. It was all over.
11
Unexpected Reunion
Edryon looked at the big black hole that grew in his left
arm at the elbow. There was no blood or any other sign to indicate an normal wound, then the gray elf came down with Snow near the main square of Hanneris. Four drunken men walked away after noticing the presence of the skeleton griffin. Edryon then sat on a wooden bench and watched the hole again. It seemed a little bigger, and this time the elf managed to realize a gray white worm, in the size of a thumb, was walking in the middle of his rotting black flesh.
Quickly, the elf drew his silver dagger, which was stored in his leather sheath on the right side and slipped the tip of the blade in the middle of the wound, trying to find and catch the worm. The damn parasite seemed to have hidden inside part of his arm. Edryon threw the dagger firmly on the ground and let out a loud scream. Two crows, who were jumping on the grass, beated their wings and flew away.
When Edryon remembered the cold and skeletal hand that touched on his left elbow, while the elf was strangling the neck of one of the necromancers in his last fight, he looked into the black hole and felt a shiver going through his whole body. That injury was the touch of rot that Rasputin had explained to him that Edryon could be careful, but now the elf felt he should run against time, and not losing the will to face challenges that seem bigger.
He could lose his arm, then Edryon felt he should find a cure as quickly as possible. Maybe Sgnilliv knew what to do, then Edryon decided it would be better go to his inn and ask for help to the goblin mage. He continued flying over the Hanneris’s city mounted on Snow. The skeleton griffin snapped his bones in a frightening way, two women went back to their homes to see him going near the square.
When he reached the front of the large building which in no way resembled the Orc’s Head tabern, Edryon looked surprised for the two stone towers that surrounded the place and thought: “Hmmm, Sgnilliv had told me that he would reform the tavern, but I would not know that it would be something so great. ” He approached two goblins who were facing the main entrance, and said:
“Hey, fellas! Let me in, I want to take a good wine and see some elvish girls.”
“This is not a place to do these things.”
“Wait, how so?”, the elf scratched his head, a bit confused.
“The tabern was destroyed. There is no more.”
“What folly,” cried Edryon, “How Sgnilliv let them to destroy?”
Edryon left the place bumping and pushing people who passed him, very scared. He could not believe that the tabern had been destroyed, Edryon should find an explanation, he should find Sgnilliv. He thought awhile, and when he turned to go back to the big building, there was Sgnilliv approaching, and Edryon said:
“Hey, what happened? What is this place?”
The goblin magician kept his grimoire in his leather bag and said:
“My Mage Guild.”
“But how…”
“It’s a long story, Edryon. Soon I will tell you what happened.”
The gray elf turned away from the goblin quickly, still confused and upset by the sudden construction of the Guild. He got up in Snow, and after watching some children playing with a green frog near the square, waited until they looked scared for his skeleton griffin. Then they went on, while Snow spread a gray powder, beating its wings disordely. Edryon smiled of satisfaction, and increasingly took pleasure in scaring people with Snow.
He flew close to a couple of elves who were kissing and hugging, sitting in the benches, and grabbed a bottle of wine that was in the elvish girl’s hand. They ran screaming for help desperately, Edryon was closer to the ground, and when he flew closer to the girl, gave a strong slap on her buttocks. Her companion pulled an elven dagger, trying to defend it, but Edryon hitted a violent kick, dropping his weapon on the road. The girl cried harder, and ended up tripping over a stick, falling with her breasts upon a soldier.
The soldier pushed the elvish girl with strength, and headed toward Edryon, firmly holding his broadsword steel.
“There will be not any soldier that will defeat the best dragon slayer of Fynge!”, cried Edryon as she took a sip of wine.
The soldier kept his sword, and took a bow that was on his back, prepared an arrow and received a violent kick to the chin. Snow went on the man with an amazing speed, then Edryon finished emptying the bottle of wine and cried:
“Wait, do not go away, is there some tabern near here?”
While preparing his army to continue following the path in the trail of the Forest of Spirits, Urentir remembered with sadness the recent events. Hanneris was now totally dominated and invaded by the necromancers, and Edryon was still confused and distracted in his own doubts. Walked a little ahead of his warriors until to find a body of a goblin mother, hugging her young son. They were burned beside an old hut, and then he realized that many goblins died trying to defend their own territories. He looked closely at some bushes that moved, then Urentir prepared his magic sword.
Strange figures passing through some dried trees, spreading a smell of rot in the middle of the night cold. The elvish warriors went into the middle of some bushes, but most of them tumbled lifeless, after receiving violent claws and bites. The mutant elves attacked from all sides, Urentir ran with his mighty sword, ripping legs and sliding against the living flesh of the aberrations. Then terrible screams, almost as wild howls, echoed through the darkness. The mutants were writhing in agony, trying to escape alive among the trees.
After a few pieces of severed arms, heads crushed and torn necks, a pile of bodies formed between half of Urentir’s warriors who survived the massacre. The leader of the elves looked with concern for his army, wiping the visor of his helmet smeared with blood.
“Get all the bodies, and play in the creek. Sacrifice those that can not be cured!”, Urentir cried in desperation.
“But… this is crazy! We can not kill them, their children and wives are waiting.”, replied one of the warriors.
“No use! Did you not realize that we have no way out?”
Suddenly, tearing two large trees at once, with their huge hands with nails so long and sharp, which could penetrate the belly of three pe
ople together, a giant mutant elf jumped in front of the army. The elvish warriors positioned their shields of steel, trying to defend themselves, but their weapons were useless against the fury of the gigantic aberration. Then the monster joined two other giant elves who just finished to chew and to grind seven warriors, and came running over and breaking up the last that tried to destroy them. Urentir chased one of them, hitting his mighty sword in one leg of the aberration.
Although he managed to strike a powerful blow on the neck of a mutant elf, the elvish commander realized that his warriors were not supporting the violent attacks of the monsters. After some time, there was only completely destroyed armors, crushed shields of steel, brave elves who now could no longer to ht. A soft rain drenched the whole dead army, scattered among the mutant elves decapitated. The aberrations were also defeated, but Urentir discovered he was alone in the middle of corpses, some was still in agony, begging for death. The night brought a strange aroma of lost war.
It was over. Urentir no longer wanted to continue seeing his warriors suffering, losing their lives in terrible and unfair battles. He putted his helmet on the grass soaked in blood, looked up trying to understand why a defeat so humiliating and painful. He felt he should give very important explanations to King William II, because Urentir knew he would not understand it, even though he was right in their decisions. He approached, quite downcast, near his warhorse, climbed into the saddle, wondering what would be his fate. Urentir decided to leave his post as a commander, and never again he would bring problems to the Kingdom of the Lights.
Once have turned his bedroom into a small sanctuary, Thelron moved slowly in his lean horse, looking for the remains of the Hanneris’s city. Almost all the houses had been consumed by flames. His house was also destroyed, but Sgnilliv asked Rasputin to rebuild it along with his guild because they felt sorry for Edryon. Thelron also knew that the goblin mage would never spend time with him. He remembered Salur, and wanted to meet him as soon as possible because even dreamed of being a cleric. Thelron was prepared to find the true path that have not yet been revealed to him.
When he spotted the Salur’s wooden house, stopped his horse near a tree and got down as he looked sideways suspiciously. He knocked twice on the door, anxious that the cleric would meet him, but a good time has passed and still there was no response. Salur used not to be late to meet his requests, so Thelron thought maybe he could have gone to somewhere else. He remembered the Temple of the Clerics, where Salur was doing his sacred trainings, and quickly rode back on the horse lean. If Salur still came in the morning, Thelron would have some chance of finding him.
He rode for a while, and after one hour he stood in front of the sanctuary. The anxiety about becoming a cleric made him to forget the Salur’s refusal. He felt he should still try to talk to him again. Thelron observed some priests outside, sweeping the road, and then said:
“Is Salur in the temple?”
Thelron was waiting for the reply that he could enter the local, to begin his rituals of initiation. But at the same time he was very concerned that the effects of aging were not over, despite having received healing from Gulinnar.
“No, he traveled to Shannen last night.”, said one of the priests.
The holy book that Salur had handed to him to start reading and thinking, began to make some sense on his mind. Thelron still needed to understand some rituals, but felt that in time he would be fully cleansed, ready for the new path of light. He left the house quickly to get near a small tabern, Thelron noted that many desperate people ran, fleeing from strange shadows of different sizes and shapes. They seemed magical creatures, the result of a disaster that could have happened.
He looked close to the Mage Guild, twenty apprentices were trying to control a huge cloud of lightning that was shoting beams of light, exploding houses and shaking violently at the dirty road. Thelron never thought that one day the magic of the world could weaken or become more dangerous. He always relied on his forbidden grimoires, the power of necromancy, so every time he looked at the young wizards performing rituals so confused and simple, Thelron thought it was funny and unimportant. He leaned on a dried tree, as he looked surprised for the apprentices, took an apple out of his backpack and bited.
Thelron began to understand that perhaps his own ritual that he had planned for so long could have caused a great imbalance in the world. Blue and red rays invaded the sky quickly, clearing the night, shaking the ears of the survivors who escaped down the road. Thelron then remembered some old magic he still knew, and began a strange ritual, saying the forbidden words in the language of the necromancers. The ground around them shook violently, then large pieces of bone came slowly out of the ground, scaring some desperate elves.
Edryon, still feeling sharp pains in his left ear, passed near a tabern that he still did not know. “Hangman’s Wine” was the wooden board that was nailed to the door of the main entrance. He felt a strong desire to be able to talk with some peasants about his adventures, then Edryon entered the room, having tied Snow near a temple. When looked at some elves who were at their tables, eating pieces of dried meat and cheese, he realized that Ornell and the other two bards were among them. Heng Lawf hugged and kissed an elvish girl sitting on his lap and Kimiru looked down to his empty mug.
“The party seems to be good. There is any wine left for me?”, said the gray elf, coming and sitting next to an elf.
“Nobody called you up here.”, said an elf who was trying to cut a piece of meat with a dagger.
“Relax, friends, Edryon deserves a mug. He has done a lot for this city.”, Ornell then grabbed a bottle of wine and handed it to the gray elf.
“Yes, you will not find a dragon slayer as powerful as me!”, Edryon smiled, revealing an air of pride.
The gray elf sipped on the bottle, and fell back with a deafening roar that startled everyone, making people scared to stand up from their tables. “What was that noise?”, Kimiru rose with the ax in his hands.
“Ah, forget it. The city has already many problems with it. Let’s have a wine, and then we will discover what it is.”, said Ornell.
“No. I’ll go outside. Snow may be in danger.”, Edryon dropped the bottle of wine on the table and grabbed his war spear that had left in the tabern, near the counter.
When he left the place, approaching his skeleton griffin, the gray elf stared at some houses without roofs. A very strong wind dragged carts, people ran screaming and desperate. Edryon rode Snow, he was ready to fly, but he heard a powerful voice as loud as a thunderstorm:
“You! I looked everywhere! Time to die!”
The elf looked up, a huge red dragon, scary, larger than many mountains, with claws longer than two houses together, beated his wings in a spectacular fashion, pulling leaves and branches of trees, such is the strength of winds that arose beneath his colossal scaled body. Tharonnak was known as the dragon of hell, the monster that was the subject of many ancient legends told by bards or famous adventurers. Immediately Edryon remembered again his last fight against the creature. Had hit a spear who tore his neck, but now realized that a huge scar mingled among his red scales. It was time to face him again, though still not completely healed from his injuries.
The gray elf skillfully prepared his war spear, looking out for the dragon, who advanced towards him with their sharp claws. When Edryon played his steel shield in front to defend himself from the attack, he realized he had been tricked. A very violent blast of fire came out of the nostrils of the huge winged monster, spreading the flames all around, hitting and heating up his shield so that the elf could take no hold it for long. He jumped very quickly from his skeleton griffin, and fell on top of the left wing of the dragon.
He looked down and saw his shield and war spear going down on a cornfield. Tharonnak appeared increasingly irritated by the presence of the elf on top of his wing, then cried with her strong and thundering voice:
“This time you will not escape!”
He violently grabbed the
gray elf with his left claw, as he looked forward to chewing it. Then a rain of arrows hited his scaled back. Edryon realized Kimiru and Heng Lawf were outside, poised and armed with their bows.
12
Checkmate
Rays of sunshine, which still shone dimly on the stone
slabs, made Urentir withdraw his helmet, watching carefully for a crown of red roses, hanging over a simple wooden cross. The battle against the mutant elves in the Forest of Spirits had ended, but now from his elvish army, it remained only the graves, were left memories that still invaded the mind of the former elf chief, always remembering when mounted on his war horse, near the small track of land where Borogh, the gravedigger, worked all night without rest, without stopping to figure out why so many deaths.
Urentir should not have ordered his army to continue in the forest, even knowing that they would not have a chance against those aberrations, he should not wait until the defeat came so quickly. He had always trusted his soldiers, since the last training with broad swords of steel in the field of arms in the castle of the King William II, it was revealed that the elven warriors seemed very well prepared to face almost lost battles.
Even though the mutant elves could have been the work of the magical experience of a mad sorcerer, who could not control his own creation, Urentir trusted in the ability of his sword, courage and determination of his soldiers, the overwhelming desire to overcome any obstacle. But just trusting did not bring victories, and also did not make the deads going back to life.
Urentir saw two druids near the Hanz’s tomb, then remembered that they should not have judged Edryon without knowing the truth. But he got down from his horse, approached them and said:
“Hanz was a good man. He did not deserve to have lost his life.”
The druids, who observed that Urentir was closer, turned away and quickly left the cemetery. A light rain began to fall on the gray land, watering some red flowers on top of some stone crosses.
Edryon (Book 1 of Edryon Trilogy) Page 9