Edryon (Book 1 of Edryon Trilogy)

by Luis Oselieri

  As they prepared to leave the local, Rasputin took two large ropes that were inside his bag, and tied the horses in the trunk of a zombie tree, which opened his mouth and began to devour the animal with an amazing speed. The magician tried to pull the other mount out of the reach of the aberration, and then they heard a loud laugh, followed by a voice that said:

  “How you are incompetent! Do you need a hand?”

  Sgnilliv realized he knew that voice, and preferred not to have recognized it, because he always felt that Arthos was against his loving union with Ellen. The goblin turned red with rage, but tried to stay calm as he thought of withdrawing his silver dagger.

  “Arthos? What makes you to think that you’re better than others?”, Rasputin responded almost aggressively.

  “This goblin! Because of this accursed goblin, my sister did not deserve that!”, Arthos ran toward Sgnilliv before being stopped by a Edryon’s kick, which overthrew him next to the huge zombie tree.

  The aberration opened his mouth and immediately turned over an incredible number of pieces of meat covered with a horrible ans pasty green liquid, imbuing the whole region with a stench that could be felt several feet away. Arthos struggled in the midst of the droppings, and rose with a great expression of shame on his face.

  “So? What was you saying?”, said Edryon in an ironic way.

  “You… don’t understand, my sister, she…”, then he knelt in the middle of the dried leaves and shouted, crying repeatedly.

  Edryon pulled Arthos the arm and said sharply:

  “Listen! Sgnilliv liked Ellen, she was everything to him, and both wanted to marry. You can not think of Ellen, being a human, and your sister, and being all that she represented to the city, could not fall in love by a goblin.”

  “The necromancers are everywhere, they were the killers of your sister, Arthos. If the Hanneris’s city was better protected against the attacks of them, she would not have lost his life, traveling to the Island of the Gnomes, because she would not need to sacrifice herself, trying to save the lives of hundreds of innocents.”, Rasputin said firmly.

  Arthos tried to clean the dirt with his hands imbued in his skin and his clothes, walked slowly around some trees, and said, with tears in his eyes:

  “I’m sorry for all of this… that bastard… Kordius ended my life. My sister was my only reason to continue living. Since Kordius remains unpunished, I see no more sense in being here in this world.”

  Rasputin, realizing that Arthos seemed increasingly sad, walked toward him, saying:

  “Do not be thinking about things that only bring more problems. I want to go to the Island of the Gnomes, and do not worry, only time will help you. Take these keys, go to the island and stay in my laboratory. You need to study and learn new paths.”

  Ellen’s brother then took the keys with the wizard and after thinking for a long time in what would be his decision, went towards the forest’s path, leaving behind the gray elf, the goblin and Rasputin.

  The rays of sunshine that pierced the canopy of trees already were becoming weaker, between the large foliage that covered the Forest of the Spirits. The magician then pointed toward a clearing next to a small group of smaller trees, and said:

  “We’ll go there, and I don’t want you to be frightened by any kind of strange thing that can happen during the ritual.”

  Sgnilliv, showing his face in a great suspicion and surprise, glanced at the clearing, and as he walked beside Edryon, said:

  “What do you think he’ll do?”

  The elf gave a light slap on the back of the goblin, and he replied, smiling:

  “Soup of potatoes. I hope it will have enough meat, loaves of bread to keep up… and also a few slices of cheese would not be anything bad, huh?”

  Rasputin, after pulling out of his leather satchel a grimoire of brown cover, opened the magic book and flipped through a few pages, looking for some kind of ritual that would help him. The grimoire issued a strong bluish light, which seemed to emerge from within the pages, to the extent that the magician carefully was reading every magic word of the School of Healing.

  “Sgnilliv, come on here fast, or else the spell will fail.”, Edryon said.

  “But what if something wrong happens? Hmm, okay, I only hope that this time Rasputin will not be fooled.”

  After finished reading the magic words of the ritual, the magician looked forward to the goblin, but nothing seemed to have happened, even after waiting for some time. The elf looked disappointed to Rasputin, and then suddenly small bubbles started to appear in the place of the severed arm of Sgnilliv.

  The goblin was surprised to learn that a new arm was formed, with a high rate of regeneration, but then he knelt in the middle of the grass, writhing in pain. Sgnilliv was not holding on to stay in control, and threw himself in despair, rolling and thrashing, while Rasputin looked pleased with the efficiency of his magic. “Do not worry, tomorrow he will not feel anything.”

  “What are you saying?”, shouted Edryon, “He will stay this way all day?”

  “No. The night too… but what matters is that he has a new arm, is not it?”

  The next day, the goblin got up from his bed, but looked sad, despite having recovered from the intense pain. He rose with difficulty, trying to support with his regenerated arm, and on his side there were Edryon and Rasputin.

  “Are you ready for the training?” asked the gray elf.

  The goblin sat back in the bed of straw, with an air of dismay, and said:

  “I do not want to be a wizard.”

  Ornell looked suspiciously at the of Urentir’s warhorse as he rode behind, crossing the gray lands of the Kingdom of Elementals, and said:

  “The horses are almost dead, we should stop here.”

  The former commander seemed increasingly focused on a piece of scroll that indicated the location of the Kordius’s fortress. Then he pointed to some mountains drawn next to a forest, and answered: “We can not lose more time. If we stop, it would be too risky, because the fire elementals are everywhere.”

  Black clouds began to cover the orange sky, bringing winds that made the air to become increasingly cold. Ornell straightened his brown robe, while trying to protect from cold, and after a while he stopped his horse near a hill, and looked up. Urentir also stopped his horse, and after rapidly approaching the bard, descended with care from the animal.

  “What you looking at? I already said we can not stay here, Ornell.”

  The bard closed his eyes, and stood for a long time this way. It would be better to think of something that was important and could help him at that moment. If Kordius was still controlling the fortress of the elementals, he should find a way to invade it, and liberate all the slaves. Ornell looked again into the clouds, and then managed to find a small group of crows, flying close to the slopes.

  “Edryon told me that these birds are easy to control magically.”, the bard said.

  “But do you really think we have time to do rituals? Those creatures are everywhere, and we could suffer a surprise attack.”

  Ornell still did not know what would be the best decision, but he decided he could not stand still, waiting for the worst to happen. Urentir seemed increasingly impatient, but still waiting if the bard could find some solution. Next to large reddish clouds, hundreds of strange creatures flew quickly across the sky as the lightning litted up the earth covered with ashes.

  “I will try to activate the scroll of crows multiplication, which Edryon gave me. I hope everything works right.”

  The bard then tried to concentrate, and after reading the list of magic words, making some gestures with his fingers, a loud noise echoed through the air like a thunderclap. Urentir looked in wonder at the crows that were becoming at evergreater numbers.

  “It’s the first time I see you summoning spells,” the elven former commander said.

  “Do not worry. I will do it many more times.”

  The crows were now dozens, they were still flying above the
clouds, as if they had ignored the magical control of Ornell. The bard wondered for a while about what he should do to bring the animals closer to him, but every time he remembered something that might help him, Ornell realized that it was wrong.

  “Urentir, I think we should…”, suddenly a huge explosion of sound came in a startling way, making the two adventurers to prepare their weapons.

  “What was that? I do not think that came from the crows.”, Ornell said, while putting an arrow in his magic bow.

  The lightning became more intense, and the sky was more overcast, revealing small winged demons and drakes, gliding through the air in bands. If the magic of multiplication has not made the birds fully under the control of the bard, he should find out the reason for his failure.

  “They are not obeying me. What should we do?” “Forget about that now! We can not stay here, this noise does not seems something friendly.”, Urentir said firmly, holding his magic sword.

  Suddenly, a more violent crash spread throughout the region, Urentir then looked up. Dozens of men dressed in black robes over the local, while some of them gave off great rays in their hands, covered in blue flames.

  “The necromancers! And they are many, let’s get out of here!”, Ornell screamed and then climbed rapidly in the saddle of his white horse.

  “We should try to reach the fortress without they finding us. If we get behind those hills, we may lose them.”

  Riding next to some mountains surrounded by strange figures, Ornell and Urentir increased the pace of the trip, but at the same time they looked up, to make sure they were not being followed. Black drops began to fall from the sky, then the bard remembered the dangers of the rain of the Kingdom of the Elementals.

  “Ornell, look! They seem to be looking for something!”, said the former commander, as he pointed upward.

  “But this is not the only problem, this rain will make sick the horses, and we may also can be contaminated.”

  When the bard thought that this time the crows seemed to be following him under his orders, after a few minutes there was no more left any magic bird. They disappeared quickly, Ornell then realized that it was useless to have attempted to use the scroll of multiplication so hasty.

  “Stay here and take care of the horses. I’ll look for another path less dangerous.”, Urentir said.

  “They will die. This rain will kill them.”

  The elvish former commander then began to climb a hill surrounded by small shadows that floated through the air, as if levitating. Ornell pointed his bow upward, while trying to defend Urentir of any possible enemy. Since there were no crows in the sky, so the bard was thinking that perhaps he should have saved the scroll for another time. The rain increased its strength, and then quickly Ornell opened his leather bag, removing a large piece of old canvas. It would be better to think about doing some magic of nature to help to protect himself from the rain. After having stretched the canvas on the horses, the bard got a scroll to create ice, because he could create a small shield, to protect himself and the animals.

  When he finished to read the magic words of the ritual, nothing happened, only a slight spark of red lights that disappeared in the air. The spell could not have failed, for he had often done that kind of ritual. The bard stared at the horses, which appeared increasingly weak, they was not moving as before, despite the tarp was still covering the animals. It would be better to wait for Urentir, but Ornell was trying to understand the reason for the failure of the magic, and concluded that perhaps the rituals did not work very well in that region.

  When he carefully prepared his magic bow, he realized that he could no longer find the elven former commander. He looked carefully at the top of the hill, which seemed increasingly surrounded by strange figures. If Urentir had even crossed safely through that narrow path that skirted the hill, perhaps he could not wait any longer for him. But in the same time Ornell should be protected from the rain, which seemed more relentless, punishing the horses who screamed and stamped their hooves against the thick mud. The bard then decided to tie a rope on the two horses, causing them to remain united and ready for a trip.

  After an hour under the black drops that seemed endless, Ornell felt that Urentir perhaps would no more to return, because the bard had bypassed all the hill, but had not found any sign of the elvish former commander. The horses were getting weaker, and was beating their hooves as they tried to get rid of the rope that tied them by the reins. Ornell mounted on an animal, he decided he would not be standing there, he should find out where Urentir could be, then drove on for another few hours, until he realized that the night had arrived.

  The bard finally succeeded, after looking quite exhausted by the best way to find a place that seemed to be the stronghold of Kordius, but he also tracked footprints that would indicate that Urentir had passed by that place. It was not anyone who used that kind of brand boots found, and Ornell was accustomed to differentiate footsteps of several types of boots. The bard was surprised not to have thought this before, but he now would continue the journey, entering the fortress, even if it could represent a great danger. Around him, drakes flew close to the black clouds, and the lightning insisted to clear the cold night.

  Suddenly, when the horse rode by some more meters, he fell dead on the earth covered with ashes, to the astonishment of Ornell, who was trying to get up, looking desperate for the animal. The rain has contaminated his mount quickly, and then the bard felt that perhaps he could die if he continued on without a better protection. He tried to cover his head with the hood of his leather cloak, and closed his eyes, thinking of a way to cross the vast region surrounded by dead trees. The fortress seemed ever closer, while Ornell walked with difficulty, until he could not go another step.

  His paralyzed legs struggled to make some movement, but the muscles were not responding. The bard then uttered a loud cry, and remembered that he did not want to lose his life so early because Ornell felt that he would still be useful to the Hanneris’s city, and to the people that continued to suffer attacks from Kordius and his necromancers. But huge bubbles appeared on his legs, and the pain became increasingly intense, spreading at a great speed all over his body. The skin wich was clear before, chickened out, filled with massive wounds, revealing the flesh in some areas.

  Ornell looked scared for his left leg, which became increasingly deformed, and then he felt that this time he would have no chance to escape from the Kingdom of the Elementals with life. Despite the rain had diminished his pace, the gray land now revealed immense craters of mud that engulfed small lizards trying to cross the area. The bard did not want to get to the fortress of Kordius without enough energy to look for Urentir, so he closed his eyes, trying to find a solution.

  When he realized that there was no chances, except to wait for the certain death, he heard a noise at the top that caught his attention. Ornell opened his eyes again, and to his surprise, a giant crow appeared from behind some dark clouds, flapping his wings quickly, but at the same time imposing. The animal went down near the bard, who did not know what to do, because if the raven had been raised by someone, it could even be some magic from a necromancer of Kordius. The bard tried to observe the actions of the bird, which looked increasingly agitated.

  He had no other choice, the raven continued standing next to him for long time. Ornell climbed on top of the animal, and remained hopeful that it was not any kind of trap. After half an hour circling the Kingdom of the Elementals, the bard finally managed to enter the fortress, and the huge crow perched beside Urentir, who was trapped in an scary field of magical energy.

  22

  Imprisoned

  Distant howling of wolves echoed through the big trees

  of the Forest the of Spirits. Thelron looked at the sun that had just been hiding behind the mountains, then carefully opened his leather satchel. His body was younger every day, your skin now looked healthy and his arm muscles were well formed and regenerated. Strange figures passed in the middle of some bushes and the
n suddenly disappeared in the darkness. Thelron pulled a magic book with white cover from his backpack, then remembered with pride when he learned to create dimensional portals with Salur.

  The ringing of the bells of the dungeon seemed increasingly stronger as he crossed with his skinny horse a difficult path surrounded by bushes covered with thorns. Once have approaching some ruins in a place that very resembled a destroyed temple, Thelron descended from his mount and looked around suspiciously. Creating one more magical portal, one more chance to train his magic, a new chance to enter the dungeon, so he could can try without any problems. New doubts arose in the Thelron’s mind, so constant doubts that the former necromancer had to stop for a moment to be able to think about what would be the next step of his plan. So hard to reach a decision, and difficult to find the secret passage Thelron was searching for six months.

  From the top of his uncertainties, to continue thinking about how everything would be much better if he could find and learn the rituals of the Grimoire of the Elements, to continue to find new spells, the searching for ways that Edryon, his brother, would never understand, Thelron felt he should not listen to the clerics and paladins. He felt that the Holy Order would never be part of his customs, and if he continued following those paths so differents from the fate of a necromancer, Thelron could lose all the power he had won during intense sacrifices of animals, and all sorts of bizarre rituals.

  All forbidden knowledge had its price, and Thelron knew that the more magical knowledge he possessed, knew that it would surpass mages as powerful as Rasputin, who had always wished that Thelron never become involved with the necromantic spells. Always there was that old uncertainty of knowing that Rasputin was hiding very important secrets, Thelron had the will to discover them.

  With his magic, he could to come within some strange chamber, and could find the ancestral home of dangerous and angry dragons, that would end his life in a single attack.