“The sorcecer must be nearby, I’m sure this is a work of that bastard!”, shouted the goblin and then he left the cemetery alone, as he looked suspiciously at the temple, which was with closed doors.
As he approached a little more on the local, Sgnilliv could not believe what was before his eyes. Kordius was following astride with his white wolf of war, to enter in one of the iron gates of the Hanneris’s cemetery. Hundreds of green lights followed him from on high, scaring all the elves who ran down the road, going back into their homes.
The sorcerer looked very tired and weak, so the goblin was wondering what could have happened for him to lose all his force so mysteriously. Kordius then walked around some tombs, and after a few minutes saying strange words, he finished a magical ritual of resurrection, then dozens of undeads rose from the earth, but walked with difficulty. Most of them wore tattered clothes of the Order of Kordius, and many were still trying to show some power, but when they lifted up their rusty swords, they fell back, shattered amid the tombs.
The sun was preparing to leave the horizon when Agmar crossed a road in the Hanneris’s city, sitting in front of an old cart drawn by two fast white horses, but very thin. He looked carefully around the main square, and noticed a strange movement of elves, carrying huge blocks of stone on their back, and their bodies stained with blood showed that they were working against their will. Beside the square, a huge pile of sticks shared space with ropes, rocks and various types of building materials, then Agmar found that the elves would be doing some kind of temple or shrine.
The shaman druid felt increasingly frustrated at not having managed to have a conversation with his son, who seemed increasingly distant. He stopped his cart next to two children disputing for a piece of stale bread, dropped in the middle of the dusty road, then Agmar immediately realized Urentir was approaching the boys, with a big wooden dish filled with slices of roast beef. Perhaps this was the right time to attempt a reconciliation, he was not wanting his son to continue ignoring him for the rest of his life.
Agmar remembered with pride when they were facing the river of the Forest of the Spirits, fifteen years ago, Urentir was just a curious kid and eager to learn to swim and fishing. Every morning they alway did in the same way, and when they were close to the crystal clear waters, Agmar liked to teach basic survival skills, and his son also listened carefully his teachings. After several months of intensive trainings, Urentir already know how to swim quickly and skillfully, but he decided that it was time to go on his own way.
When Agmar walked closer to the two boys, he realized that his son has departed, and rode back on his war horse, without looking back, leaving on the road some wooden dish with roast. The boys began to divide the slices, but at the same time devoured with incredible rapidity, as demonstrated in their faces a famine, and they also seemed quite weak. The shaman druid felt even more sad to realize that Urentir was ignoring him, and so Agmar thought that he should show him that he was still his father.
After approaching a crowd of elves who seemed to be discussing something important, Agmar decided to investigate them, because many of them carried large wooden boxes and placed them near a huge pile of stones. The elves were increasingly agitated, their weakened bodies reflected a gaunt appearance and their black robes had strange symbols on their back, showing that they were part of an organization. The shaman druid then realized that they could be slaves, because he saw a small group of eight elves walking around with chains attached to their feet and hands. If they were really slaves, they were working for their master, and in the same time Agmar remembered Kordius.
The druid looked around and immediately recognized the sorcerer of the elementals, close to twenty elves, giving orders and holding a whip covered with huge iron spikes. Kordius walked with difficulty, but struggled to establish authority in front of his slaves. Three elves was using red clothes, and then one of them shouted:
“Don’t stop, carry the stones. Kordius is the salvation. The city needs the new temple!”
The elven slaves seemed increasingly blind to the bigotry that was imposed by the followers of the sorcerer.
When Agmar prepared to help them, he heard a loud noise, followed by a big explosion, which came from the north side of Hanneris’s town. With the impact of the explosion, many houses shook their fragile wooden roofs, and the road trembled so scary, frightening the people who walked on or followed in their carts. The shaman druid looked at the direction of the big impact, and realized that in the midst of the black smoke that covered some houses, there was a magical portal with a strong golden light. The portal appeared to have been created at the exact moment of the explosion, so Agmar felt he should act fast to try to trace its origin.
Suddenly, a huge winged creature appeared in the smoke, waving her wings and shaking her pale and skeletal body, then the druid knew right away that it was the queen of fairies, Yllanys. Agmar still could not understand why the queen had decided to leave her kingdom, because Yllanys was not used to make unannounced visits to the Hanneris’s city. On his right hand rested a giant whip, covered with magical blue flames, which creaked violently, producing a noise almost as strong as a thunder.
Then she walked in an authoritarian manner, and her whip of fire hit the backs of Kordius’s elven slaves with incredible rapidity. The desperation took over most of them, trying at all costs to avoid the merciless attacks of Yllanys, running and hiding inside the wooden houses. The elves, desperate to save their lives, this time they not seemed to be serving Kordius, then many of them knelt in the presence of the queen of the skeleton fairies. In the crowd, four elven slaves ran quite weak in the middle of the road, fleeing from the violent blows, but they did not stand and fell unconscious in the middle of their dead companions.
The escape of the elves seemed to make no sense to Agmar because he knew that Yllanys would not forgive the followers of Kordius. In a time of great reflection, the shaman druid approached the queen and yelled:
“Demon of the shadows! You don’t deserve to stay alive! Why do you keep bringing suffering to our people?”
The huge winged creature flapped her wings in the air and flew off to approach him, and then replied:
“We did not start this war. If you are on the side of Kordius, you must die like him.”
Most elves suddenly stopped running and still stood, frightened, as if waiting for orders of Yllanys. The queen snapped her immense whip again, and then Agmar felt that the city will never again have peace. The shaman druid left near the local and was wondering what would be the future of the city, but he could not take that, having to submit to the authority of the queen of the skeleton faeries. Kordius moved away quickly, while trying to hide next to a dark alley, and disappeared in mysterious circumstances in the midst of a thick fog.
Thelron looked in wonder at the ruins of a temple that stood before him, in the Forest of the Spirits. Pillars for a long time forgotten, but ignored by wizards and witches of the world. If the former necromancer could find the secret passage that he has heard in the stories told by the bards of the Thornak’s tabern, Thelron could find scrolls as old as the magic itself known from the Schools of Rituals, from the world of Fynge. But he did not know the exact location of the passage, so he should find a way to find it, without losing much time.
Maybe if searching for signs of footprints or marks, could give him more chances to follow the correct path. Thelron rode northward for hours, and realized that the sun had already left the horizon, giving rise to an unpleasant scene, full of dead trees beneath threatening dark clouds. If the passage was really far from the ruins, he should already have met it, but with every minute that passed, Thelron felt that he would never reach his destination. He had traveled more than half of the forest, and the only signs that he found were the traces of wild animals.
The former necromancer pulled a scroll from his leather backpack, looked up and saw that the clouds seemed increasingly charged. It would be better to try to create a magical portal,
so he could get to teleport to somewhere closer to the secret passage. A light rain began to fall on the trees, Thelron quicked the pace of the ride while holding the reins of his skinny horse. When he realized that he had approached a better protected part of the forest and surrounded by large trees, he then stopped the animal and descended from his mount.
An icy wind cutted the landscape, swaying branches and spreading dried leaves through the narrow path that crossed that part of the forest. Suddenly two boars came running into the bushes, while looking to the sides, suspicious. If the track continued to the end of that region, Thelron would not need to be traveling in other directions, because if the magic portal was created in a familiar place, it would be easier to teleport near the secret passage. Sounds of whispers broke the silence of the night, bringing uncertainty for the former necromancer, but at the same time it showed him that there were primitive people who lived in the forest.
Thelron carefully unrolled the tape that held the magical scroll, focusing on the ritual, and a horrible female laughing echoed through the darkness. Then he dropped the scroll, and quickly prepared his war mace, because that voice did not seem to be somewhat friendly. It would be better to mount on his skinny horse, to depart from that region, but Thelron should find out where it came that laughing. There is not seemed to be a young woman’s voice, much less a human, so Thelron felt that something was wrong in the Forest of the Spirits.
Leaving behind some trees of his front, women of deformed skeletal bodies walked with difficulty through the fog. With the breeze that made their black dresses to churn, while moving, the former necromancer immediately remembered that he knew those horrible creatures. This time they did not seemed anything like the nymphs of the waterfall, and also there were no unicorns around, or anything showing that they were normal women. They were witches who had chased him, a few days ago, so Thelron felt he should act fast to avoid any confrontation.
Remembering the ritual invocation of the living deads, Thelron thought it would be the best option at that time. After shouting strange magic words to create skeletons, the earth covered with leaves began to shake violently. If the witches were unprotected against this kind of magical attack, Thelron could have a better chance against them. The aberrations seemed not to care about the effects of magic, and then continued walking toward the former necromancer. Thelron, despite having used once more the ritual of the undeads, no longer considered himself a necromancer. Hands and legs came off the ground, and soon seven skeletons of various types of creatures were already beside Thelron.
A necromancer should show he is the best, so it was the right decision, but at the same time he did not consider himself an elf who was searching for the necromancy. The witches seemed surprised by the presence of the skeletons, and then began to laugh, revealing rotting teeths and long gray tongues. Thelron knew that if he could not face the creatures with his band of undeads, he would have to flee, and he did not want to do that. The skeletons walked dragging his twisted limbs, and two of them came to blows in the direction of the aberrations.
Thelron waited impatiently for the witches to suffer a blow, but to his disappointment they were still without getting injured. Perhaps they were immune to physical attacks, so they remained stationary, laughing and watching the undeads as if they were just a bizarre spectacle. An skeleton orc went toward a witch, while wielding a rusty ax. This time she would receive the blow, Thelron thought. The witch jumped nimbly on the skeleton, touching the skull of the undead with her fingertips. The skeleton exploded, scattering pieces of bones everywhere.
Run for far enough away, even if it became the biggest humiliation in his life. The former necromancer had no choice, so he ran toward the trees, as fast as he could. It would be stupid to stay near the aberrations, knowing he could die. His steps became ever wider, while looking for somewhere he could hide. While listening to the laughs that strayed in the darkness, Thelron looked for a place that seemed to be some entrance, and he was surprised to discover that the local was the secret passage that he was searching for so long.
After entering a hole in a hollow tree, going down several steps covered by mud and silt, the elf finally found a wooden door. It would be better to open the door and look for something that could help him, then Thelron entered the room, and when he least expected, a huge boulder came loose from the ceiling, landing in front of the door, blocking the entrance to the local. He was arrested with no spells, so the former necromancer thought it was best to wait for any idea that could save him.
21
Mismatch Of Travelers
The ax of his father was still cutting the Sgnilliv’s mind, so
that every time he tried to follow on the horseback, that was whinning, ruffling his mane and following Edryon’s mount, the pain at the place of the lost arm seemed more intense. Pain who had lost a father’s figure, just another abandoned and insecure child, riding through the Forest of the Spirits.
Through his own memories of when he was in the brook, when the spear was thrown toward the agitated waters, there was a feeling of hatred that seemed to increase, as he stared into the Shiiv’s face, in his own mind, an expression of ignorance, one anger perhaps understandable to some. Fury of the purest intention, an almost infinite will to end the life of Sgnilliv for his disobedience, by becoming a magician without his permission, having abandoned all the traditions of his tribe.
Sgnilliv abandoned only the habits that he knew were not good for the tribe, he only wished he could go his own way, he wanted to be a magician who could be admired by all the continents of Fynge. Being someone who was different… someone with the capacity and ability to use the magic in favor of the weaker. With all these advantages, it was expected that Shiiv, his father, his biggest enemy the whole time he spent living in the Forest of the Spirits, took advantage to create problems that did not exist. To cultivate the destructive envy, destroying family ties that still remained, even destroying the hopes of Sgnilliv, till the death found him.
The goblin then heard horrible screams coming from inside the Dungeon of the Bells, the dungeon for many years had always been a source of many strange stories and legends told by bards. He descended from his horse, looked at some trees and said:
“Edryon, this place does not bring me good memories. Let’s get outta here now.”
Edryon, realizing that the goblin seemed more bothered by being in the Forest of the Spirits, opened his leather satchel and pulled out some pieces of dried meat and cheese, and handed Sgnilliv. The goblin took a weak bite in the flesh, he felt no desire to eat, Sgnilliv still could not forget all the tragedies that happened in the forest.
“It will be worse if you don’t eat anything.”, said the gray elf.
When they passed in front of the dungeon, Edryon and Sgnilliv stopped their horses and went down near the entrance to the local. The screams mingled with the sound of the bells. A faint mist passed through the big trees, Sgnilliv walked in the middle of a trail to find pieces of bones and old clothes scattered near a clearing. Edryon went further back, then said:
“Your tribe, were they living here, were not?”
“Yes, why do you keep asking me all these things? Kordius has been in the forest, that bastard destroyed it all! And you acted like an irresponsible! Do you think that it was easy to overcome all of this?”
“It is never easy, my friend.”, Rasputin replied, rising from the mist, suddenly and mysteriously.
Edryon and the goblin were frightened and drew their weapons. The gray elf then remembered that Sgnilliv had been one of the best disciples of Rasputin. By the time the goblin was still an apprentice of magician, in the School of Fire, on the Island of the Gnomes, the elf used to visit the island, to observe the trainings of the goblin, but he always felt a desire to also be able to learn spells. The magician then went walking out of the fog, while his long white hair swaying against the icy wind, in the afternoon, was cutting the forest. Edryon kept back his silver dagger he used to wear to cut the fles
h of small animals, and was surprised, trying to understand the presence of Rasputin.
“I never thought you would pass through the woods some day.”, said the elf, staring in disbelief for the magician.
“A change of plans, I need to resolve something that will be useful for this goblin.”, Rasputin replied firmly, and slowly approached Sgnilliv, which has not seemed to be getting his words.
“Wait a minute, what do you mean by resolving something?”, Edryon asked, quite anxious, because he no longer could bear the horrible situation where the goblin was.
The magician looked carefully at Sgnilliv, from head to foot, smiled and said:
“A goblin thin and weak like this can not go roaming around. I’ll make a good potato soup with beef, lamb, and you will get stronger, right?”
“Are you saying you came here just to make soup? Can you only be kidding, right?”, Edryon seemed quite angry to hear the words of Rasputin, because the he did not expect the magician to say something so insignificant.
“This is really what you heard. He needs a good rest, because the next day will be nothing easy. Now let’s get outta here, I’m getting tired of this forest.”
“Sgnilliv does not need food, he needs a cure for his arm.”, said the elf, looking quite annoyed for the wizard.
“I think you are too rushed. All will come on its time.”, Rasputin replied Edryon very coldly, and looked closely at Sgnilliv, as if analising his wounds.
“I do not want to stay here in this place. Let’s go out now.”, the goblin responded eagerly, as he followed behind the magician’s trail through the forest on his horseback, which was tied in the saddle of the gray elf’s horse.
The magician looked carefully into the path surrounded by bushes, which seemed to be ending, and said:
“Sgnilliv, I will try to help you, but I don’t assure you that the results will be perfect. From now we’ll leave this part of the forest. Let the horses here, because I believe that we will not be able to cross the swamp with them.”
Edryon (Book 1 of Edryon Trilogy) Page 18