The Axe's Edge

by Summers, Derick J. M.

  Lan had confirmed their assumption before they’d parted company that moving a large group was never fast, but, that didn’t seem to be the case this time. She was impressed with Lan’s leadership and couldn’t help but wonder if something else might be inspiring Lan to push his warriors so hard. She knew that Lan would get edgy moving at a slow crawl through the forest, so the pace might be a result of his impatience, but for some reason she didn’t think so. Whatever the reason, he and his warriors were making excellent time. More importantly, she could tell from the animals around them that they weren’t simply bullying their way through the forest, the animals had not scattered. That meant that the Elves were moving with care despite their blistering pace. Impressive, though it did muck with their own plans to rendezvous with group.

  Finishing her scan of the Elfin warriors, El began to pull away, returning to her own body. It was as she pulled back that she caught the strange sensation, the magical equivalent of catching something in the periphery of her vision, an odd alternate presence in the astral plane. Pausing in her withdrawal, El gathered more power and searched the ether. Though she was unable to identify the presence, she knew with certainty that something or someone was out there. Someone else was also watching the Elfin party.

  Catching the sensation of the presence again, she moved quickly on the astral plane to investigate, feeling the power of the unseen watcher, assessing it. Fearful of losing the presence again, she moved more quickly than was prudent through the astral plane and as she drew close she felt the presence turn to find her. Cursing her foolishness, El reflexively pulled back. As it searched the ether for El, the presence radiated an intensity that surprised her, coming far too close to locating her.

  Suddenly, the wide search of the presence began to narrow. With dread, El realized that the awareness was closing on her. She still didn’t know who or what it was exactly, but she could feel its malevolence and was certain that she didn’t want it finding her. Throwing up psychic walls and barriers, El did her best to evade and hide from the presence on the astral plane before disappearing into the ether. She put as much distance as she could between them and when she was as certain as she could be that she was not being followed, El allowed her consciousness to refill her waiting body.

  Leaving nothing to chance, as her consciousness refilled her body, she began work on a spell. Before she had even fully returned to the physical plane, she performed her casting on Logan and herself. Her casting had no physical effect. Rather, it operated on a perceptive level, making them blend into the surrounding wood. Someone searching for her or Logan on the astral plane would see only forest and maybe, just maybe, a pair of squirrels, playing amongst the trees. Slowing her breathing and calming her racing heart, she opened her eyes. Logan was sitting, watching her, as he had been when she’d first left her body.

  “So?”

  Sighing deeply, she stretched out the stiffness from her arms and back.

  “You were right,” she finally answered. “They are making good time. We won’t catch them at the swamp’s edge like we’d hoped.”

  Logan frowned at the confirmation. It was as he had feared.

  “There’s something else,” she continued. Logan cocked an eyebrow as he waited for her to continue.

  “They’re being watched.”

  “Oh?”

  “I encountered a presence on the astral plane,” she continued. “It didn’t notice me right away. It was too intent on the warriors. But when I went to investigate, it became aware of me almost immediately. I did my best to disappear into the plane and I think I managed to avoid being tracked, but I’m not certain how successful I was. When I got back to my body, I performed a casting and I’m confident that I’ve hidden us from any magical sight. But I have no doubt that whatever or whoever it is, it’s tracking Lan’s party and its intentions are not good.”

  “Then we need to pick up the pace. Lan and Raeth are going to need us sooner rather than later.”

  El nodded her agreement and they redoubled their efforts, pushing themselves harder to make up time through the forest.

  To Dream

  The dream came as it had for the last several nights. Ar’n’tor stood in the centre of the Elfin Starhall, at the centre of the recessed star with its five points splayed out around him. The sun was shining brightly and the branches that composed the ceiling of the chamber had pulled back to allow the natural light to flood the room, filling it with warmth and light. Ar’n’tor looked down at his own hands and as they had been in the last several dreams, they were surrounded by a golden glow that had nothing to do with the sun. Magical energy surrounded them, an aura of power and energy. Ar’n’tor knew from his previous dreams that the golden glow surrounded his entire body.

  Slowly, he raised his eyes from his hands and focused on the Elves surrounding him. They stood silently at the edge of the circle that surrounded the star. As his gaze fell upon them, they dropped to their knees in homage, lowering their eyes to the floor in respect. A smile crept over Ar’n’tor’s lips as his gaze passed over his worshipers.

  This is how it should be, he thought. This is the respect I deserve.

  Only one Elf had the audacity to remain standing in his presence - Aerlian’thor. A sour expression crossed Ar’n’tor’s face as he studied his older mentor. In Ar’n’tor’s mind, it was clear that this mage, the clan chief of the mages, was all that stood between him and the power that was rightfully his.

  What I wouldn’t give to destroy the old Elf, he thought.

  The dream changed slightly then, he felt magic draw into his veins, felt his magical aura pulsate as the energy raced throughout his body. Despite the sensation of power, his eyes never left Aerlian’thor and now Ar’n’tor was rewarded as a look of fear clouded the old Elf’s features.

  That’s right old man, he thought with satisfacton. Fear me!

  Raising his hands, Ar’n’tor felt the golden energy surge from them. An eerie golden glow lashed out and crashed against Aerlian’thor in a flash of gold lightning. The old mage struggled to defend himself, desperately throwing up a magical barrier, but the magical attack overwhelmed it easily.

  Ar’n’tor’s attack struck Aerlian’thor, the brilliance of the glare nearly blinding Ar’n’tor in its intensity, but he didn’t stop. He kept pouring more and more energy into the clan chief. When Ar’n’tor reached his limit, spending as much power as he was capable of, he allowed his hands to finally drop and waited for the glare to clear from his eyes. A smile reached his lips as he took in the scene before him. Nothing remained of the old mage but a pile of ash and dust that the wind was already scattering to the forest.

  Ar’n’tor alone stood before the kneeling Elves. Triumph washed over him. He was finally the undisputed ruler of all and he gloried in the power of it.

  It could all be yours, the voice slithered from behind him.

  Turning, Ar’n’tor found himself facing the now familiar white haired old mage with the clouded, sightless eyes. The figure had finally shown himself when this new dream had begun. He had still not offered Ar’n’tor his name but, Ar’n’tor no longer cared, the mage’s power was undeniable.

  And really, what else matters? thought Ar’n’tor. Names? Races? Ideals? All of them are meaningless next to power.

  Though the old human appeared to be blind, Ar’n’tor knew that he watched him. They had played this game before.

  Who are you? Ar’n’tor asked half-heartedly. He had asked before and the mage always denied him the answer. It was now, as Ar’n’tor finally realized the name mattered not, that the answer finally came.

  I think you’ve already figured that out, the old man replied with a mischievous smile. Let’s just say that I’m a friend - if you want one?

  Ar’n’tor studied the mage before him. This was a dream, so there was no guarantee that the mage appeared as he was in life, but then if he was going to change his form, why choose this frail, old human? No, Ar’n’tor suspected that the mage before
him was a true representation of the mage on the mortal plane.

  Besides, he snorted. What does it matter?

  The man’s look was unimportant, what mattered was the man’s power, and that was undeniable. This was Ar’n’tor’s dream and entering the dream of another was no easy feat. Ar’n’tor was fairly confident that he wouldn’t have been able to manage it. Elfin magic did not encourage such things. Of course, that meant that this human had access to magic that he did not!

  When this realization had first struck Ar’n’tor several days ago, he had fervently tried to deny it. All his instruction had taught him that humans were inferior and their magic was even more so. It was inconceivable to him that a human could possess knowledge that he, the finest of the Elfin mages as far as he was concerned, did not. He had tried to deny this reality and when he finally could deny it no longer he knew that he would do whatever it took to possess it.

  A plan had formed in Ar’n’tor’s mind, a course of action that filled him with joy and brought him peace. This situation was nothing to fear. This was, in fact, an opportunity. He would learn from this strange human, much as he’d learned from Aerlian’thor. He would be an apt and devout student. And, when he had learned everything the old human knew, he would set things right. And if in the process, he gained the Elfin throne, then who was he to deny what was clearly destined to be?

  What Hades Forsaken Place Is This?

  The incredible pace that Lan’thor and his warriors had set and maintained through the forests had slowed to little more than a crawl when they hit the edges of the Great Swamp. Few, if any, of the Elves other than Lan had ever been this far away from the great trees of Er’thaental, and though they were the undisputed experts under the forest canopy, the swamp was an entirely different matter. The unfamiliar terrain felt and responded differently than the forests the Elves were used to. Soft ground that often seemed more liquid than solid was a constant concern. Often times, what initially seemed like solid ground turned out to be a spongy organic mess that would cause an unfortunate Elf to sink to his knees, sucking on his boots as he tried to pull free.

  And that was the ‘solid’ ground. The swamp was filled with channels of near stagnant water, sometimes shallow and sometimes deep. These channels were interspersed with small pockets of ground that appeared to be land. Unfortunately they were not as one unfortunate warrior discovered while trying to find a path over a small channel. Others were close enough to see him struggling, and were able to use their staffs to free him before his mishap could become fatal. Added to all this was the intense heat and humidity that was normal for the Great Swamp, but sapped energy from the ill prepared Elves and left them wondering what they’d ever done to deserve such punishment.

  The wildlife changed as well. Gone were the typical forest creatures that the Elves had grown up with. The deer, bears and big cats of the Southern forest kept far away from these humid swamps. In their place were large reptiles. Both the waterways and the trees were filled with new dangers. Lan’thor, who had passed through this swamp when he joined Logan’s quest, tried to warn his warriors, but he got the impression that most of his Elves thought he was just telling campfire tales. His worries were confirmed when an overly confident warrior suddenly let out a terrified scream. A twenty-foot reptile, which the warrior had mistaken for a dead tree bobbing harmlessly in the water had narrowly missed the elf’s foot when it lunged for a nearby fish.

  With a swish of its massive, scaled tail it swam away, leaving a scared and humbled elf in its wake.

  Raeth returned to the group with a badly shaken elf scout in tow. The unfortunate elf had been attacked by a giant python hiding in the tree canopy, and Raeth had rescued him from the crushing hold of its coils. At this, Lan’thor had had enough and called the warriors to a halt.

  As the Elves quickly set up camp, Lan’thor asked the mages to set up a protective barrier around the small patch of solid ground they occupied, so he could have an opportunity to speak with all the warriors at once. Lan’thor wasn’t sure that Ar’n’tor would comply with his request, but the fact that the bugs had also increased in size and ferocity worked in his favour. Ar’n’tor had been smacking at himself since they’d arrived and with the number of raised and red bites that covered his exposed flesh, he looked like he had contracted some strange malady.

  The other mages were in equally sorry shape. It almost made Lan’thor feel bad that he and his warriors hadn’t told them about the natural insect repellents that could be found throughout the forest. It wasn’t that they were secret. It was more a case of needing to know and the warriors, who spent much of their lives dealing with biting insects, had learned the fundamental lesson - nature provides. They just weren’t quick to share this information with those who more often than not looked down upon them. As a result, the mages were only too happy to combine their energies and create a massive magical barrier around the troop.

  “Okay,” Lan’thor addressed the assembled warriors. “Welcome to the Great Swamp.”

  A chorus of grumbles and complaints echoed back at him.

  “We’re out of our element here,” he continued. “But, such is the path of the warrior! We press on, no matter the hardship, no matter the challenge. That is what separates us from everyone else. That is what makes us who we are, the most elite fighters’ in all of Tir’an!”

  Lan’thor’s speech, short and simple as it was, had the desired effect. Reminded of their duty and their honour, Lan’thor could see his warriors visibly straighten under his gaze. These were good Elves, they were true warriors and they would overcome anything the swamp threw at them.

  “Now, I’m going to ask Raeth to give us some idea of what we might expect to encounter here. And this time, I want everyone listening closely. Knowledge, as always, is our best weapon.”

  Raeth nodded to Lan’thor and turned to face the gathered warriors and mages. She hated having everyone’s eyes on her. She never enjoyed the spotlight, no assassin ever did. Taking a deep breath, she began to explain the dangers of the swamp, both the obvious ones like the gators and pythons and the less visible ones like toxic spiders and quick sand. The warriors, and the mages for a change, listened with rapt attention. After their first experiences in the swamp, they realized that the more they knew, the better their chances of surviving in this strange and hostile environment.

  When Raeth finished speaking, Lan’thor ordered a quick lunch break before continuing on into the swamp. While they ate, Raeth used the time to teach the warriors how to create a powerful insect repellent needed to deal with the larger and more aggressive swamp bugs. This time, Lan’thor made sure the knowledge was shared with the mages. Their earlier discomfort was entertaining and somewhat justified, but here it could be a matter of life and death. Lan’thor would not unnecessarily endanger any of those under his command, warrior or mage.

  Lunch finished, Lan pronounced Raeth the sole scout. As the only one with any significant experience in the swamps, she was the only one who could be certain to fulfill the role without running the risk of becoming a liability. The group was further disadvantaged by the tricky terrain. It was often impossible for the Elves to do anything other than follow each other in a long, single file line. Lan twitched at this, hating that his warriors presented such a clear and easy target, but nothing could be done.

  Raeth did her best, laying a trail for the warriors to follow. She was careful to mark the larger and more lethal stationary dangers. But even with her assistance and experience, it was slow going. When Lan finally called a halt and set up camp for the night, the whole troop was exhausted. It took all of Lan’s command to make them set camp and not just collapse into sleep where they stood. Again he asked the mages to set up their magical barrier and again the exhausted mages complied without argument.

  The following morning, as the warriors struck camp, Raeth distributed an herbal salve to ease the itches and stings that had taken their toll on the Elves despite the repellent they had used the previ
ous day. The salve was the same that her own people used and it assisted greatly in easing the Elves hardship. It was a small mercy for the warriors, but when combined with the repellent she’d taught them to make, life in the swamp grew significantly better. Unfortunately, the rest of the swamp’s hardships were not so easily overcome.

  Raeth again took on the role of lead scout and, at Lan’s suggestion, brought a couple of the more experienced Elf scouts and trackers with her to teach them what she could about the nuances of the swamp. Lan knew that asking Raeth to teach, guide and look out for possible trouble was asking a lot. It would leave her stretched tight and would slow her and therefore the groups progress considerably, but as any leader knows, it’s wise not to keep all your nuts in one basket. The training that his scouts received now might very well save all their lives later. That was worth the cost in time as far as he was concerned.

  It came as little surprise to anyone that the loudest complainer in the party was a mage - specifically, Ar’n’tor. He made it abundantly clear that he hated the swamp even more than he obviously hated the forest and was constantly whining and griping. The Elfin mage was so miserable in the swamp that Lan’thor went so far as to suggest he return to the Elfin village. Lan’thor’s was shocked at the vehemence of Ar’n’tor’s response.

  “No!” Ar’n’tor nearly shouted at him. “I see what you’re up to! You won’t take this away from me! You’ll see. You’ll all see!”

  Lan’thor was taken aback, Ar’n’tor’s response leaving him standing with his mouth agape. Finally, he simply nodded at the mage and excused himself to oversee operations as the Elves prepared to break camp. But Lan couldn’t get Ar’n’tor’s outburst out of his mind. The mage was always a pain, grumbling and griping about anything and everything, but this was different. This was an explosive, angry, nearly hysterical tirade and it wasn’t good. Surprisingly, Lan’thor found he was worrying about Ar’n’tor’s sanity? Not a good sign at the best of times, but more so when it came to mages.