by John Grover
Each rider would pass the other and head back to Cardoon, reporting if anything was amiss. The lands of the west and far south were out of the jurisdiction of the city boundaries; they were ruled by the Wivering of Gonnish and the people of the M’illium Fells. The Fells were great mountains of magic where the warrior mages of D’Elkyrie made their cloud-capped homes. Between Gonnish and M’illium Fells, many rolling green hills sprouted with a network of rivers and marshes. Yagmire Hills was the biggest of these, and was home to many Wood Sprites and Gnomes.
Tolan rode on, galloping across the beach and making his way to the Lake Lands with its host of small villages and fishing towns. He wondered about the wall of mist and why it had always been there. What was it hiding? Was there anything beyond? No one had ever been through it. It was thought to be impassible. Not a single boat dared to sail into the wall for fear of never returning. Any trade or sailing expedition stuck straight to the coastline and traveled north to south, or vice versa. There was always the Baltha Sea, but no one in Cardoon had much use for it: it was only a trade route between the west and the island lands of Norrow.
He looked back on the mist before riding out of its view. The land began to transform into fields, grassy knolls, and even a forest. He followed a path through Llewallen Forest and spotted his best friend in all the Circle Guard, Geyess, heading toward him.
“Whoa,” Tolan called to his steed. He put his hand up to Geyess. “Good to see you, my friend.”
“And you, as well,” Geyess said, pulling his horse to a stop. “How is your journey?”
“Uneventful. And you? How do the Lake Lands fair?”
“Quiet. The villages barely noticed me, and the raids from the South seemed to have stopped. At least for now.”
“Very good. And what of Bhrungach?”
“I didn’t get close enough to find out. You know what those Northerners think of us.”
Tolan laughed. “That I do. They’d serve us spoiled meat and sour milk and call it good hospitality before showing us the door.”
Geyess smiled. “I hope the Red Coast behaves itself on my pass.”
“I feel it will.”
“Those clouds of mist always make my blood run cold.”
“Just don’t look them in the eyes…” Tolan smirked, and Geyess shook his head. “I am off to report back to the city.”
“Safe journey to you.”
“And to you. See you at home.”
The two friends departed, and Tolan continued on his forest path. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of the first lake within the Lake Lands.
###
The massive gates of Cardoon opened, allowing Tolan entry. He rode past the farmlands on the outskirts of the city. Peasants made homes in the fields, and sold their harvest once a week inside the city’s walls. They grew all manner of vegetables and fruit, and bred livestock for meat. Each knight that went out of the gate had to endure the markets and bazaars: all the peddlers lined up to sell food, clothes, wine, and jewels.
Tolan moved through them all without losing a coin, and entered the city confines. He strolled into the first courtyard, and returned his banner to its rightful place upon the pedestals lining the pathway.
He was greeted by the High Guardsman, Jorrel. “Hark, Tolan, what news do you bring us?”
Tolan dismounted and shook Jorrel’s hand. “I saw lightning in the misty clouds of the Fifling Sea.”
“Lightning?” Jorrel confirmed. “Was there thunder?”
Tolan nodded.
“Well, a storm over the sea is no cause for fret. It does happen from time to time.”
“It has been quite some time since any thunder was heard in those clouds.”
“True, but a natural occurrence, nonetheless.”
“It wasn’t thunder.” A voice rasped behind them.
Tolan turned to see the cloaked mage standing with a grimoire in his hands. His dusty frock and cowl flapped in the breeze. He had a grave look on his face as he stormed over to them.
“Sooth-Malesh, what brings you down from the spires?”
“The news young Tolan brings, of course.”
“There is no news. You should go back to your brews and luck stones.”
“Fool, that was no thunder. No lightning. Describe this lightning to me, Tolan.”
“Of course, Sooth-Malesh. It rose from the water through to the clouds. Then the inside crackled with light.”
“Crackled with light,” Sooth-Malesh said, raising his eyebrow. “Lightning does not behave in this manner. It was not lightning. Something is breaking through the mist. There is magic use afoot.”
“I’m not sure if it was magic,” Tolan replied. “But it was strange.”
“Strange, indeed. It was something trying to break through. We are all in grave danger. The city—nay—the lands should be put on alert.”
“I’m not putting the city on alert for natural phenomena,” Jorrel said.
“It wasn’t natural. Something on the other side is coming.”
“There is nothing on the other side. The land ends at the Red Coast. There is nothing but water. Beyond this mist, the world ends. That’s why no ships have ever sailed through it. We are in no danger.”
“You’re wrong, High Guardsman. We are all in danger. Something is coming. Heed my words. Warn the King!”
“I’m sorry, Sooth-Malesh. I cannot do that. Please, return to the spires.”
“You’re fools… all of you. You will remember this day when you did not heed my words.”
“Of course.” Jorrel nodded as Sooth-Malesh turned and wandered back through the courtyard.
“He’s quite upset,” Tolan said.
“He’s always upset. Always raving about something. The end is coming, the end is coming.”
“Well, it was strange. The way the clouds lit up was something I had never seen.”
“Well, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t natural.”
###
In the top of the tallest black spire, Sooth-Malesh slammed his grimoire onto his pedestal. Dust puffed into a cloud from beneath the book. He flipped it open, and turned each page of parchment. He studied the various energy fields of magic, and looked over the after effects and the residual energy. He re-read about the mist and the legends surrounding it. He then found the page with the most powerful magical item of all: the Grimstone. The only one of its kind, a war that almost tore the fabric of their world apart was fought over it. The stone could not be destroyed, nor could it be kept in storage by any living thing. Thus, the First People managed to break it into three pieces, and had hid them in secret, scattered throughout the world.
Only one thing could get through that mist: magic from the Grimstone. Even one piece of the stone could probably do it. It had to be what was attempting to break through the misty wall. Once whatever it was got through, then what?
Sooth-Malesh shut the book. He ran to his crystals and laid them on the work table before him. He wove a withered hand over them, but nothing happened. He lit a candle and gazed into its flame. No vision came.
“I’m being blocked,” he said with trembling lips. He was even more alarmed than before.
Chapter 2
Pim stood in a circle with his friends. He dropped a spiny shell to the ground—the husk of a bristle back coon—and kicked it.
Ono dashed over and kicked it as it spun in mid-air. Arc leapt behind him and caught the shell, passing it back to Pim. It overshot him, but the young Wivering flew like the wind across the grass, and caught it before it hit the ground.
He rejoined his friends as they bounced the prickly shell from one to another.
“So, you’re feeling better?” Ono asked.
“Never better,” Pim said. “Thanks for the tree branch.”
“It was nothing. Better luck next time.”
“Oh, I’ll make it all the way next time. I was halfway there.”
“Yeah, okay,” Arc said.
“You don’t believe me?”
>
“Not saying that, it’s just, well, the river bested you.”
“For now. I’ll prove it to both of you. Not only will I master the water, but I’ll leap over the trees.”
They both laughed.
“Pim, stick to kicking the bristle back shell. It can’t kill you when you fail.”
“I won’t fail. I’ll show you both.”
The shell flew right at his face, and Pim ducked. It flipped a few times, then hit the ground, skidding to a halt.
“You lose!” Arc called.
Pim waved him off and chased after the shell. Nearby, Jun of the warrior sect walked past the shell. Pim caught up to him, and stopped him as he scooped up the shell. “Hey, Jun, wait a moment.”
Jun was a few years older than Pim, but he had joined the sect at the age of eighteen, the same age Pim was about to reach.
“Yes?”
“I was wondering if you could teach me to use a sword… to defend myself, and others.”
“Why? I’m on duty, checking the perimeter.”
“I know, I mean when you’re off duty. I was thinking of joining the warrior sect when I turn eighteen. It’s only a short time away, now.”
“I don’t know, Pim. I don’t think your parents would like it. They’d be angry with me for teaching you when you’re not ready, yet.”
“I am ready. They just don’t understand. They’re very old fashioned.”
“I don’t know.”
“Please, Jun, the sect needs all the members it can get. It’s still very small.”
“Alright. Meet me by the White Oak in two hours.”
“You’ve got it! Thank you.”
“Hey, Pim, c’mon! Are you playing, or what?” Ono yelled.
He patted Jun on the shoulder, then turned and kicked the shell in Ono’s direction.
###
As promised, Jun met Pim by the White Oak. The tree was on a hillside to the rear of the village, away from prying eyes.
Jun carried two swords; he threw one to Pim. “Okay, start by raising the sword, keeping it parallel with your body. Use it to keep your opponent at bay. Keep your eyes on them and try to anticipate their moves. Counter each strike as you look for an opening. When they make a mistake, take your opportunity.”
“What if they don’t make a mistake?”
Then you’re dead.”
“Okay.”
“That is what the parrying and blocking is for: you want to keep them off balance. But that’s a little aggressive for your first lesson. Start off by being defensive, so as I attack you, block everything you can. Don’t let me in.”
“Got it.”
“Ready?”
Pim nodded, and Jun came at him, slashing straight on. Pim managed to raise his blade and block it. He smiled, but Jun swung low in the other direction, and nearly slashed Pim’s leg open.
“You’re not paying attention,” Jun scolded. “They don’t just launch one attack in one direction. Look for their next swing; it could go upper body, lower body, head, leg, foot… you just don’t know.”
“Then how am I to block it if I don’t know?”
“Instinct. You’ll learn to read it on their faces.”
“Again.”
Jun rushed at him with an attack to his upper body. Pim blocked it, and then Jun switched to strike his mid-section, where Pim blocked him again. Just as he was gaining some confidence, Jun brought the blade straight up, clashing Pim’s sword to the ground, disarming him.
Jun caught the other sword in his free hand. “Now you’re dead. Never let your weapon leave your hand. Never lose your grip.”
“Or, if that happens, I can just do this.” Pim set his feet ablaze, and in a flash, ripped the sword from Jun’s hand, and slipped behind him, pressing the blade to his throat.
“Really, Pim? I can just do this.” Jun spun out of Pim’s grip, reversing the hold, and placing his own blade to Pim’s throat. “Using the fleet does not guarantee a victory. There are many people with other skills that may match our fleet of foot. See how easy it was for me to reverse you? Fleet should be used in defense; it’s for escaping danger, not for combat. There is always someone who will have a trick up their sleeve.”
“Point taken. Now let me go.”
Jun pushed him aside. “You still have so much to learn. Pick up your sword. Again!”
###
On the Red Coast at twilight, the mist stirred. Thunder crashed louder than it ever had, and the clouds lit up with brilliance.
It was just at that moment that a member of the Circle Guard stepped onto the beach. Mithric stopped his mount suddenly, and gawked. The clouds moved in such a strange way that it startled him. His horse brayed, duly spooked, as well.
He watched, astounded, as shadows writhed in the mist-cloaked clouds. Panic swept through him, and his heart pounded his chest. Then it nearly stopped.
A ship burst its way out of the clouds, sails of stone gray, its flags bearing emblems Mithric had never seen. The wood of the boat was black; no wood of such kind grew in this part of the world. Atop the many pedestals and flags, fire burned, and a sooty, black smoke billowed into the air.
This was the first of many ships. More exited the mist, dozens of oars pushing them with ravenous speed. The sound of drums suddenly carried on the winds.
Mithric spied what looked like catapults on some of the decks, with lumbering figures milling about.
Behind these battle ships, as Mithric came to believe they were, two massive barges appeared. Looming sails caught the wind, grand canopies and multiple decks adorned the great behemoths as they cut through the sea and tore the water asunder.
Mithric heard some kind of chanting, now. It was in an alien tongue that was frightening to his senses. The multitude of ships headed directly toward shore.
As the first few grew close, with the speed of some unnatural force, he thought he saw skeletons tied to the bows of their ships.
Mithric swallowed air hard, and the pit of his stomach churned. Sweat dampened his brow. He knew he had to take word to the High Guard and the King. There was no sign of friendship here, or trade, but only the creeping sense of death, and the foul stench on the wind as the ships moved.
He pulled his horse under control and raced across the beach. The lead ship in the army illuminated, and an energy ball, shifting from red to green to blue, screamed across the sky. Mithric looked back with inescapable horror, knowing that he would never out run the magic.
It crashed into him, sending both him and his horse down. The two ignited into flames, howling with agony.
The green-blue fire burned until there was nothing left but ash. The ship’s drums played louder, and horns blared. As they reached the shore, growls and snarls filled the air. The howl of unknown beasts followed.
###
It was early morning in Daustra, one of the first villages of the Lake Lands, and closest to the Coast. Luda, a mother of three, dragged her laundry from the lake, and began wringing it out.
A great roar caught her attention, followed by screams. The sky filled with blue-green fire and ash. She spotted a horde of riders pouring into the village: great, hulking creatures rode upon reptilian beasts, some hurling fireballs straight from their hands.
The laundry was forgotten as she raced to her home across the lakeshore. Her eldest son grabbed a sword, knocking over the breakfast table, and sending cheese, honey, and fresh fruit splattering over the floor.
“No,” she said to him. “Give me the sword. Grab one of the horses, and ride to Bhrungach. The Council must be told. Hurry! Tell them an enemy not of this land is attacking Daustra!”
The boy rushed out the back of the house and threw himself onto their speckled steed. He vanished out of the yard just as a hail of arrows struck the house and yard.
Wails filled the house: her two smallest children scrambled to her legs. “Come,” she soothed. “We’ll go down in the ground.”
Luda was used to war; her people had been feuding
with the South for years. A random raid or attack in Daustra sent her below ground, into the house’s under seams, which were normally used to store root vegetables and cider.
Tree roots knotted through the room, and Luda cradled her children in the dark as the house trembled.
The ground thundered, and terrible roars filled the village. The house rocked as the roof above collapsed. Dirt and debris showered the underneath, but Luda held strong as her children buried their faces into her chest.
She heard the men outside calling to action, calling for weapons, screaming in horror and agony. Drumbeats rose. Horns blasted. The scent of burning flesh seeped into the air.
Luda shut her eyes and prayed.
###
“Neither rider from the Circle returned this morning,” Captain Sundar informed High Guardsman Jorrel.
“Any word on the weather on the Coast? Perhaps they were delayed by a storm.”
“No news scrolls on the subject, sir.”
“Have there been any scrolls today from the area?”
“Actually, no. No caravans or riders have been to the city today.”
Tolan and Geyess stood in earshot of the conversation. Tolan stepped in. “Mithric and Padin are out there. I will ride.”
“No, you will not,” Jorrel said. “I’m not sending out riders for something that could be a sea storm.”
“They could be in trouble,” Tolan argued. They could be hurt, or worse. If they’re exposed to the elements, there’s no telling what could happen.”
“They are trained Circle Guard members, they know how to survive in the wilderness.”
“You are lacking reason, here.”
“And you are lacking logic. We will not instill panic among the men, nor the King. If he gets word that we are children afraid of storms, we will be relieved of duty.”