by James Day
“So, we need to get a message to the Dwarves.” Flicker reasoned as he watched the children sleep. “I think I could do that.”
“No,” the man beamed. “I don't want us splitting up. I will have to think. As for now, we better rest.”
They sank deep into the shadows, unnoticed by any of the patrolling sentries.
Just north of Tullamore's and Flicker's position, Splint Quill, Brea and Dwarf Master Packer strode near an encampment of sleeping Gnomes. The fires were doused as white mist spiraled up into the canyon of the Snap. Packer and his men stared in disbelief as silence fell upon the small company. A war, the Dwarf lipped to himself. How could such a matter of taken place? Splint Quill hushed them and scouted ahead with metal crossbow gleaming in the dim light. Shadows were cast deep and dark from the impending sun, but storm clouds threatened to cast out the remaining light, leaving the hills dark and cold. The small camp of Gnomes appeared exhausted; their numbers were few. They were an outline post, a warning to the others. Splint Quill managed to sneak over to their water well and slip open his pouch, a glistening powder was released into the water. The powder was a sleeping potion, which would cause the patrol to harmlessly fall back into slumber, it only took a few drops of water. Just as he finished a patrol sauntered by on horseback, the man dropped back into the shadows and climbed down into the water well. In a moment, the commander woke the five men, chastised them for being derelict of duty and went about their way, heading north. It would be at least another hour before they patrolled any further. The five Gnomes washed up and made their way to the well, dropped the bucket in, mechanically pulled the rope up and sipped the water. Each went back to their posts. A few minutes later, Splint Quill climbed out, his flexible body easily scaling the roughened stones and climbed out of the mouth of the well. He examined the sleeping bodies and rhythmically stepped over them, waving the others forward.
Packer looked in distaste, “You foolish old man, are you attempting to get us all killed?”
“It's just an old sleeping thing,” the oldster passed. “We need to get out of this valley, those deviled things are heading our way.”
“I've got to get to my command post. They're most likely camped north. Of course, it appears that half the Gnome army lies before us. If I'm caught, I will be killed. I don't quite understand this.”
“Well, we've got to find our way through this. It won't be long before we are caught between the Seekers and this confounded Borderline Skirmish. I just don't understand why you confounded people can't stick to peace.” Splint Quill went on. “Those things won't care less for anything that's going on. We need to move.”
“I just need to rest a few minutes,” Brea said sluggishly.
“A few minutes, Wildergirl. That's it. I know that you're exhausted, but we have run out of time. Look behind you.”
She turned and in the far distance, the forest burned from the wall of fire that advanced forward. It was apparent that the Crimson Seekers were sweeping directly east and destroying everything in their wake, villages, farms, houses and burning the entire landscape, mountains and all. She sat down wondering what had become of Bellower and Sly and Dayven.
Bellower, Sly and Dayven tracked due west and then north when they realized that something was wrong. The small company halted and watched as a Dwarf and Gnome cavalry assaulted one another. From their position, just south of the mouth of the Snap, bodies lie strewn about, decomposing from the previous day’s events. The stench was frightening as Dayven wondered what had happened to Brea. Just north they had witnessed the terrible crimson glow which appeared to destroy everything in their path. At once he knew, the Crimson Seekers were marching forth. Not a great army which would foretell the coming of a war, but with a small party assisted by dark magic and devil things made from the power of the Hearthstone Sword. The elf scanned the Snap bitterly at the mindless destruction. Bellower sat in silence; his feelings lost at the newfound discovery of the war. He had defected, left his people, somehow guilt had slipped into his being. Bellower felt that it didn't matter, no one cared. He was an outcast. A Gnome without a Nation. The Borderline Skirmish had nothing to do with him, he simply thought. It was their affair, their business if they chose to kill one another. Bellower turned his face northward to the Dragon's Spine. It was possible to cross through the mountains and take a chance above the fringes of Sleigh Mish, but the Snap proved to be an easier route. Bellower wondered about the Wildergirl and how she fared on her journey home, then a frightening revelation cut him as he fought to hold all emotions. The fires were directly west, where she had journeyed. No, he reasoned, she was bright, intelligent and smart. The Wildergirl knew how to protect herself in any situation. She proved herself within the realm of the Rockdwellers. Now his dreams appeared to fade as he lost his own bearing, the goal of the treasure of Nyx had been completed. Blue Shimmer appeared faraway with more surmounting obstacles at each moment. The Gnome knew that in order for them to breach the Snap, it must be done in the dark, at night. It was too dangerous, and a storm appeared to be brewing from the west. Bellower derived the fact that the heat from the fires, along with the ashen air, added to complexity of the weather. The winds were shifting, and it appeared that the crimson fire was blowing right into the Snap. Maybe, he though, it was a forged evil. Dayven watched the smoke billow into the area as it choked everything in its path, black and swirling. All sound appeared devoid of life, as if a last breath were taken into an eternal darkness of sleep. Dayven knew that it would be impossible to find a Mystic called Allenor. How would such a feat be accomplished? Dayven felt responsible for the impending danger, after all, he had failed to destroy the Hearthstone. Dayven and Bellower's eyes met for a brief moment as shared a common thought, the Wildergirl. Then they turned away in sadness the Gnome sighing at spectacle of Dwarves that patrolled in the distance. They carried the flag of the Freedom Fighters.
“Great,” Bellower whispered, “what am I supposed to do?”
“I don't know,” Dayven answered, his face flush as the others sat in silence. “We need to make through the Snap without getting caught. Do you have any ideas?”
“Oh, sure,” he snapped. “We'll just walk across. Imagine me, a Gnome, going through the middle of Prince Lurgan's Freedom Fighters. They'll cut us down. I don't want anything to do with this.”
“We can't stay here too much longer,” Sly added.
“What do you suggest we do?” Dayven asked.
“What Gnomes do best, sneak through, undetected.” It's possible, if we can make our way past that ridge then we'll come into the first border patrol of my people. I can get us by them, if we can just move by this patrol.”
“I can do it,” Dayven added.
“What.” Bellower hounded as the others looked on suspiciously.
“Suppose I chain the both of you up and lead us past the Gnome sentry.”
“Forget it, elf. You're not chaining me up, especially to that fool,” Bellower continued. “We need to think of something else.”
“Just as he spoke a group of Dwarven riders spurred down the hillside, swords and bows ready for the kill. The hooves cut into the soft earth as Bellower and the others formed a chain and roped each other in seconds. Dayven grabbed a discarded cloak and slipped over, hunched down and began marching.
The patrol officer came up to them and gave a harsh order. “Move them to the south hill, just beyond those trees. There's a Dwarf army that will tend to them. Good work,” he exclaimed as he turned his steed and cantered back to the group. In a moment the others took off, unaware of the deception.
In single file they moved up the hillside as the landscape changed. In the distance black smoke filtered in the low-lying valley, choking and haunting the forests of a crimson doom. Bellower and Sly remained silent. Just as they crested the top of the hill Dayven frozen in terror. Below in the glen, Ogres and dark creatures tore apart the unsuspecting party of Dwarves. Things from the depths, spawned from the power of the sword crept a
nd slithered out of sight. The huge lumbering bodies were blood soaked as the things reassembled. It was a small party that had struck them down, a foredooming of something more frightening. The group crouched down as the last of the creatures appeared to vanish, due west into the comforts of their onslaught of destruction.
“They move back to their minions.” Dayven worded, his face full of fear.
“They're gone,” Bellower added. “We can pass down there and into the Gnome camp. From there, you will become my prisoner, if need be.”
“I don't like it,” Dayven whispered. “Those things are heading right for us.”
“Ingenious, those dark things of magic, spawning their evil so that we cannot even attempt to protect ourselves. They will ambush and destroy us all.”
“What else can we do?”
A dark shadow strode directly from the south as the group coward and released their swords in predetermined fear. The huge man strode up awkwardly, a black cape blowing in the smoky wind.
“What new Demon is this?” Sly blurted out.
The figure moved up to them, his face hidden in a cowl as he carried himself and stopped just below them. “Put your weapons away,” the stranger spoke, his voice exhausted and coarse. He gently moved down his cowl. “I am Allenor.”
Dayven moved as the Gnomes fortified their position. “I've been searching for you.”
“We must make way and get through the Snap. The dark ones will encroach the Eastland. There is no stopping them. I cannot use my power against such a force.”
“Where did you come from Mystic?” Bellower asked full of mistrust.
“Due south, from the mouth of River Run. The Seekers will crush the rebellion. A truce must be called and the Gnome and Dwarven position must be fortified to stop the advancement of the dark things.”
“And where are they headed?” Sly rasped.
“Skydark,” the Mystic's voice boomed. “The creatures march with Hearthstone Sword to take possession of the Book of Power. It is located in Skydark. The evil things wish to reunite the blade and make it a weapon of destruction. They wish to march into the Eastland’s. Already, their minions have scoured the Northlands and the Eastland’s. The Ogres are taking over every fortification with help of the Crimson Seekers and those who would bow to the dark magic they wield. We must go to Skydark and reclaim the Book of Power. It will tell us where to restore the Promise.”
Dayven was left speechless, he didn't know how to answer or what to ask. Then he reached over and extended his hand in friendship to the Mystic, Allenor grasped his hand and nodded.
“Dunnganon is your father,” he softly spoke, appearance changing for a moment. I don't know anything else, except that Promise must be restored and that the Crimson Seekers have been one step ahead of the entire journey. This battle must cease, and we must reunite with your friends in order to stop the crimson fire. If we do not, the fairy magic will destroy the Eastland.”
“What of the Shannon Nation?” Sly spoke harshly. “How do they fit into all of this?”
“They’ve been cut off at the edge of River Run. The Midlands burn and the fire spreads south. The Elves have traveled down Twisting Cove to assist, using all of their magic to protect the Kingdom of Shannon. They cannot help us. This battle must be fought by us. This evil has spread beyond the Kingdom of Shannon. The minions will not rest until we have been destroyed. At this time, a Crimson Seeker, not fully changed makes its way here to destroy us so that there will be no defiance or aid to Skydark. The surrounding villages and cities will be helpless to stop them.” He took a deep breath and stepped forward, his dark eyes intensely staring at Dayven. “It is up to you. You must take up this cause and come with me to Skydark. Otherwise everything you know will be obliterated. You must forgo your search for Dunnganon.”
“I cannot do that,” he stood firm in resolution.
“You have no choice. Everyone who has worked so hard will be lost. If you fail in this quest, everyone will die.”
“That's a heavy burden to place on him,” Bellower snapped and stepped before the Mystic, his eyes dark with anger. “You have no right to do this.”
“I have no choice. You witnessed the Slavelings, you have seen the Devilings and the Crimson Seekers. They are fortifying their positions while we speak. They will strike a direct assault into the Snap, their master who wields the broken sword leads the way.” Allenor said profusely. “I shall not use my power to destroy them, I can only delay them, then I have another matter to tend to.”
“What can be of importance?”
“There is a woman who was separated from her two children. Flicker and Tullamore have come to the Snap with them. I need to deliver them to safe passage. Their mother, Gweyn is currently going down River Run, she awaits them at the base and plans on taking them into Wilder Run. It is the only safe haven for her at this time. As we speak the Ogres and dark minions have taken over Skydark. They await the sword and the opening of the Book of Power. I must go there to meet their resistance then I will discover the whereabouts of the Promise. The sword must be restored, once this occurs, they will be utterly destroyed. I cannot explain the complexities of Faerie Magic, but it shall be so.”
“Where is Flicker and Tullamore?” Dayven asked in quick response after contemplating his heavy words.
“They are in the valley just north,” the Mystic appeared cold and distant. “What is your answer?”
“I must find him. I will do everything in my power to assist, but I must attempt to locate him.”
Allenor's patience held as he shook his head in disdain. “Very well Dayven. I will assist you in this quest if you promise me that you will listen to everything, I tell you. If we reach Skydark, I will take you to another place in order to look for him. There is one who may know, but if we don't locate him, you must travel with me whatever the price. Do you understand?”
“Price, what price?” Dayven's face twisted into a picture of mistrust.
“Everything exacts a price elf. Are you willing to pay it in order to find him? Do you want to know what the price is? Can you live with it?”
“Stop twisting the words,” Bellower exploded. “Just tell him.”
“Mind your business,” Sly spat.
“Well, I will pay it,” Dayven managed with all of his courage.
“The price is the death of your friends.”
Dayven was taken back from shock, his face contorted in horror. “I cannot pay that price you ask. It is not my decision to make,” he said.
“Know this, if you pursue that other than restoring the Promise, you will pay that price. We have wasted enough time and must find your friends. We must evacuate this valley.”
“How will you stop them?” Sly questioned with ferocity. “Are you just going to walk into the middle of the battle and announce yourself?”
“Look Gnome, I grow tired. Do not test me. I shall deal with situation in my own time. We need to find them now.”
Just as he completed his sentence horns blew and a new assault echoed throughout the hills of the Snap. The entire valley came to life with the screams of men rushing forward in tight formation to destroy each other in hand-to-hand combat. The Dawrven Freedom Fighters cut the Gnome lines cutting down men. The small company consisting of Allenor, Dayven and the Gnomes halted beside a thick underbrush. The Mystic bid them to remain, but the three decided to ignore his order, after a moment they strode into the center of fighting. The Gnomes protected themselves and formed a circle around the Mystic and the Elf. Bellower and Sly attempted to defend rather than to kill the Dwarves until Allenor could somehow call attention. Dayven unsheathed a sword and moved in unison watching the skirmishes explode all along the hill. After a minute Allenor reacted. In one sweep with his hands blue fire exploded before the battling races, Dwarf sentries and Gnome guards screamed as the fire turned the ground to ash. The Mystic migrated up a slope as he witnessed Prince Lurgan and his Fighters advance into the company. Once more blue fire rushed befo
re the galloping stags as they screamed in fear throwing some of their riders. Gnome archers took position to attack as Sly and Bellower attempted to signal them to stop. Bolts whizzed as the Mystic’s hands exploded into flames, fire racing at the Gnomes, their screams echoed as others halted in their tracks. The Gnome Chieftains rode emerged from their tent as the Mystic jumped upon a steed and galloped directly at them. Blue fire raced into the tents, which exploded into flames as Gnome and Dwarf scurried in sheer terror. Calls of black demon echoed as their attention became fixated on the towering Mystic. Dayven, Sly and Bellower strode out as a line of Gnome sentries advanced upon the Mystic, their spears raised for the kill. The Dwarves flanked the opposite side and the stage was set for the oncoming carnage. Weapons were released and raised as everyone froze. Omagh and Prince Lurgan crested the hillside as the Gnome Chieftains rallied their men and the noise drummed out the Mystic’s harsh words. From a glen of trees Splint Quill watched in wonder as realized that a Mystic had come to the Snap. The remaining blue fire fizzled out leaving a smoldering chasm of ash. Just north on the rim of the valley the children stood up watching the commotion and the lines form, their attention turned as they wandered from Tullamore and Flicker who were busy examining the moving masses of troops toward the center. It was evident that something huge was about to begin, a major assault to end the skirmish. The Lumberjack turned and realized the two children were pointing in the direction of the deep valley. He made his way over. At the same moment, Brea watched a band of Freedom Fighters reassemble and join forces. Her attention turned to the valley below and the dark robed man that stood in the center as everything converged upon him. Both sides came to a halt as the air came to a frenzy with the shouts of Dwarves and Gnomes their homeland battle cries echoing throughout the valley. Brea noticed that the man put his arms up like a harried scarecrow then something amazingly happened. Blue fire exploded forth into the sky as the man swept around in a circle, cutting off the advancing soldiers, screams and panic overwhelmed as the ranks broke and stepped back. The entire valley became silent as everyone gazed upon the forbidding man.