by Callie Kanno
“What do you think he is saying to her?” Aherin wondered aloud.
“I would assume he is telling her exactly what reforging the dagger will entail,” Cowan answered, scowling.
The fool is actually considering doing it, Iona hissed. How could any Forger consider doing such a thing?
What is so dangerous about reforging a weapon? Idris demanded. Tell me what you have heard.
Iona was silent for a moment. It is said that the soul of the Wielder is ripped from their body, leaving it an empty husk. The body lives on, but the person is dead.
Idris felt a shock of cold take over his senses. His mind was numbed by such a terrible idea. Why would that need to happen? How does it help fix the weapon? Why would anybody choose to do that?
I have asked myself those very questions, farmer, Iona murmured.
Idris watched Hildar’s face as Kurag spoke; it grew pale and taut. Her eyes were fixed on the Forger’s, as his were fixed on hers. Whatever it was he was telling her, Idris could see that Kurag was sparing no details. When Kurag ceased talking, the two sat on the log in silence. Hildar stared down at her clasped hands, turning them over in her lap. After a while she spoke, which caused Kurag to look grim. Then the two stood and rejoined the group.
“What have you decided?” Cowan asked.
Kurag never had the chance to answer the captain’s question. As he opened his mouth to speak, a nearby explosion knocked all of them to the ground.
Chapter Eighteen: The Hunters
Kurag was on his feet again in an instant, moving with dexterity that defied his age. He sprinted away from the members of the Royal Guard, offering no explanation. The door to the miner’s house behind them flung open with a bang. Princess Lenora appeared among them.
“What has happened?” she demanded, looking frightened.
“Stay inside,” Cowan barked. “Bar the door and open it for no one until one of us comes to get you.”
Lenora only hesitated for a moment before doing as she was told. Cowan gestured to his young students, then hurried after the Forger. They ran across the small community to the outcropping of rock where the opening to the mine was located.
Dust and smoke filled the air, choking Idris’s ability to breathe. He picked his way through the rocky debris, coughing and sputtering. Kurag stood where the opening to the mine had been located. With the strength of his ancestors, he shifted entire boulders out of his way. Cowan had nearly reached the Forger when an arrow shot out of the trees, piercing Kurag’s right shoulder. The old man howled in pain.
Idris dropped to his knees, his eyes darting over the border of the village looking for the source of the attack. He didn’t have to search for long. Half a dozen more arrows streamed through the air with deadly accuracy, aimed at the members of the Royal Guard.
Iona flared with power, sending up a wall of fire to deflect the arrows. “Thank you,” Idris gasped at his weapon.
Eight shadowy figures separated from the trees, sprinting at the Royal Guards with swords raised. Once they entered the halo of light that surrounded the village, Idris could see that they all wore cloaks with the same insignia embroidered on the hood—a snake impaled on the blade of a dagger.
“Hunters,” Kurag hissed when he saw them.
Cowan twirled his staff, sending a bolt of lightning at the nearest assailant. The Hunter barely flinched as the lightning exploded out of existence before it touched him. The captain of the Royal Guard gave a guttural snarl. “They have some sort of shield,” he warned his students.
Idris felt a rush of fear as he stood to ready his weapon. He had been training as a soldier for less than a year. Iona had always made up for his shortcomings, but what was he to do with her powers rendered useless?
Cowan was the one to provide Idris with an answer to his dilemma. The experienced soldier raised his bo staff and simply attacked. He whipped his weapon around with practiced efficiency, knocking aside the sword of his enemy.
Aherin’s bow was useless without its magic—he didn’t carry any arrows, since the bow made ones of fire—so he picked up rocks from the piles around his feet. He began throwing the stones at their attackers with impressive accuracy. Idris would’ve thought the sight ridiculous had it not been so effective.
One of the thrown rocks hit a young Hunter’s hand, causing the man to cry out and drop his sword. In a flash, Hildar snatched up the weapon. She turned on the balls of her feet, bringing the blade to bear.
What are you waiting for, farmer? Iona snapped.
Idris stumbled forward, his chagrin making him momentarily clumsy. He came face to face with a Hunter holding a wide sword that looked as though it had been broken in half. The jagged edge may not have been as sharp as the tip of a normal sword, but it looked just as intimidating. Idris raised his polearm reflexively, turning aside the falling blow.
Idris took a step back, giving himself the necessary distance to wield the partisan to full effect. He made a sweeping motion with the tip of the blade—earning a defensive reaction from his foe—then he moved to the side and jabbed his weapon under the sword arm of the Hunter. The Hunter spun out of the way, then lunged with an attack of his own.
Idris gave silent thanks for all of the practice on footwork he had been required to do in his early training as a soldier. His ability to move quickly on his feet was all that saved him from having his ribs sliced open.
Idris formed a small ball of energy at the base of his partisan, flicking it at his enemy. The streak of fire extinguished against the invisible shield that protected the Hunter, but it was enough of a distraction to allow Idris to move into a better position. He leapt across the scattered rocks at his feet, thrusting his weapon forward as he moved.
The Hunter blinked against the sudden bright light of the fireball, which proved to be a dangerous reaction. He was only able to divert Idris’s attack by sacrificing his arm. The blade of the partisan stabbed through the upper portion of the Hunter’s forearm, leaving a spattering of blood on Iona. The Hunter gritted his teeth against the pain, swinging his broken sword in a counterattack.
Idris jumped back. He could feel Iona flaring with power, strengthening Idris’s legs to aid with his balance as he landed. A smile touched the corners of his mouth. It was comforting to know that Iona was helping him in every way she could.
Even without being able to use the full extent of his weapon’s abilities, Idris felt he was able to defend himself rather well. Too well, in fact. The Hunter didn’t seem as interested in defeating Idris as he should have been.
He is distracting you, Iona said abruptly.
Idris’s gaze flew to his surroundings, trying to ascertain what it was that the Hunter was keeping him from doing. Each of the members of the Royal Guard had a single opponent, but Kurag had four Hunters closing in on him. Idris cried out in dismay, turning to give aid to the Forger, but the Hunter with the broken sword blocked his path.
No matter which direction Idris tried to run or how many times he used his partisan to attack, the Hunter simply fended off his blows and barred the way. “Kurag,” Idris shouted, his voice filled with desperation.
The Forger held two thick branches, one in each hand. He kept the Hunters at bay, but his eyes had the wild gleam of a trapped animal. He swung the branches, scraping the ground as the Hunters dodged his makeshift weapons.
After a dozen or so such attempts to defend himself, Kurag dropped the branches on the ground. He had a strangely satisfied expression on his face as he raised his arms in the air. He began chanting in a deep bass voice, the lilt of his words sounding almost like a song.
The scrapes left on the ground from the branches began to glow, together forming two large runes. Idris’s mouth dropped open as he realized what the Forger had done. The Hunters had the same realization, and they scrambled for cover.
The ground began to rumble as Kurag chanted louder. Idris was forced to his knees, just to keep himself from falling over. The air vibrated with a high-pitched h
um, growing stronger and stronger until Idris had to press his palms against his ears. He clenched his eyes shut as the pain in his head increased.
Suddenly, there was silence.
Idris looked up to see that the opening to the mine was free of the boulders that had buried it. All of the rocks appeared to have been turned into a fine dust that was now piled on the ground. The members of the Royal Guard—as well as the Hunters—stood still in shocked silence, but Kurag was moving with long-legged bounds.
He grabbed a metal pole that was hidden just to the side of the outcropping of rock. Idris noticed that it was the same kind of pole that was used to hold the lanterns that circled the mining community. Kurag plunged the end of the pole into the ground, chanting a new set of words. The pitch of his voice was higher than before, but the words were more staccato as they rushed from his lips.
A hidden rune on the metal pole began glowing, with counterparts on the surrounding poles doing the same. Idris was amazed that the Forger had had the forethought to prepare a secret rune spell built right into the village.
With a flash of light, Idris felt an invisible force pull against his body. He could feel himself flying through the air, then he was suddenly lying on the ground. There had been no sensation of him landing. He was just no longer moving.
He sat up, dazed. A quick glance showed that he was sitting just outside the border of the village made by the lantern poles. All of his companions were within sight, including Lenora and—surprisingly—their horses. Even their saddlebags were present.
“What happened?” Lenora asked, sounding bewildered.
“I am not certain,” answered Cowan slowly.
The sound of feet tromping through the underbrush brought them all around sharply. Kurag approached them with a thunderous scowl on his face. “You had best get moving,” he warned. “The Hunters need only to circle around the village to find you.”
Aherin repeated Lenora’s question. “What happened?”
Kurag pointed to the nearest lamp post. “Years ago I placed runes around the village as a way to protect those who were kind enough to shelter me. When activated, the spell pushes everything out of its boundary that does not belong in the mining community.”
Idris’s eyebrows shot upward. “Including you?”
Sorrow flashed across the Forger’s expression before it became stony. “Including me.”
“Where are we going now?” Cowan inquired as he got to his feet.
“We?” Kurag burst out. “We are not going anywhere. You led Hunters to my home and endangered the only family I have left. You may go wherever you please, but I am going to find a new place to hide. Alone.”
“You cannot do that,” Idris argued.
Kurag ignored him, sifting through the saddlebags to find a simple shoulder pack with a rune burned into the leather. He hefted the pack over his arm, then started to walk away. Hildar darted forward, grabbing the Forger’s hand.
“You promised,” she said in a voice that trembled with emotion. “You said if I was brave enough and strong enough then you could help me. You said if I was willing, you would be willing, too. You promised…” her voice trailed off.
Kurag’s rigid expression softened. He gently touched Hildar’s head, as one would a tiny child. “Even now you ask for such pain?” he asked her.
Hildar’s lower lip trembled. “I do not want Savion to be destroyed. He could be great, if given the chance.”
“Very well,” Kurag sighed. “I cannot abandon you when your resolve is so strong.” He turned to start walking down the mountain. “We must hurry to keep ahead of the Hunters.”
Idris rushed to saddle his horse and attach his bags. Then he grabbed the reins to lead the mare after Kurag. “Are we going back to the Forger village?” he called as he hurried forward. “There was no forge there.”
“Hush,” Kurag hissed, waving an angry hand. “Do you want our enemies to know our plans?”
Idris’s cheeks blazed as he realized how foolish he had acted. “I am sorry,” he stammered.
The Forger cast a nervous glance over his shoulder to the forest behind them. “We will discuss our plans once we know we are safe from being overheard. For now, we must hide our trail from the Hunters.”
Chapter Nineteen: Tales of Old
Kurag led them to a path that took them across the side of the mountain instead of going down to the valley below. They maintained a northern direction, passing from Half Mountain to its neighboring peak. As the sun began to rise, the Forger slowed to a stop.
“We cannot travel during the day,” Kurag informed them. “We must keep out of sight of the Hunters at all costs. They would follow our trail across the world and back again. They will not give up until we are all dead.”
“Why?” demanded Lenora. “Why are they so determined to harm us?”
“It is their sole purpose, your highness,” Kurag said, appraising the young woman before him with narrowed eyes. “They live for nothing, save to destroy all Forgers.”
Lenora’s expression became somber. She seemed to fully appreciate the gravity of the situation for the first time. “Surely they would not threaten the rest of us,” she said, sounding uncertain.
“You have been seen helping me,” Kurag answered flatly. “In the eyes of the Hunters, you have declared yourselves their enemies.”
“I cannot believe that the Order of Tivan still exists,” Lenora murmured. “Most people believe that the last of the Forgers were destroyed more than a hundred years ago.”
“That is probably true, for the most part,” Kurag assented. “I have not seen others of my kind since the Forger village was attacked.”
“How did you survive?” Lenora asked, not having been present when Kurag had told his history.
“You can ask questions later, your highness,” Cowan interrupted. “For now, we need to find cover.”
Kurag nodded in agreement. “If I remember correctly, there should be a small cavern nearby. We can hide there until dark.”
His memory proved to be just as reliable as his forethought. The cavern was hidden behind a thick covering of vines. It was barely big enough for the travelers and their horses to fit inside, but no one was about to complain. The recent Hunter attack made them all grateful for any shelter at all.
Idris took the opportunity to carefully go over his partisan. He looked for any damage to the weapon’s bright surface.
That is unnecessary, Iona commented. Damage does not appear on the exterior of a weapon of power until the internal damage is beyond repair.
Idris frowned. What do you mean?
Iona sighed, but she didn’t insult Idris’s intelligence. He took that as an encouraging sign that she was recovering from her melancholy. The physical form of a weapon of power is a reflection of the weapon’s soul. One cannot physically damage a soul, and so one cannot physically damage a weapon of power.
Idris replaced the leather cover over the head of the polearm, cinching up the ties. But it is possible for a weapon of power to be damaged or destroyed.
Yes, acknowledged Iona, but not with a normal attack. One must attack the core of a weapon to destroy it.
Idris’s silent conversation with his partisan was interrupted by Cowan’s gruff voice addressing Kurag. “Where are we going, if not to the Forger village?”
Kurag was leaning against one of the cavern walls, bringing his long legs as close up to his body as possible. It was impressive to Idris that such a large man could fold himself into such a small space. “One cannot use simply any forge when creating an item of power,” Kurag explained. “It is a process that requires a great deal of power—the kind of power that cannot be made by mortals.”
“You are referring to a Wellspring,” Cowan surmised.
Kurag’s eyebrows shot upward. “Yes.”
“What is a Wellspring?” Lenora asked.
The Forger took a slow, deep breath. “To answer that question, we must go back to the days of the creation of t
he world.”
A reverent silence settled over the cavern as everyone leaned in to listen to what Kurag had to tell them—a history that hadn’t been spoken in hundreds of years.
“In the beginning, the universe was a single mass of magical energy. There were no separate beings or planets or stars—all was one.” He closed his eyes, as if imagining such a peaceful state of existence. After a slight pause, he went on. “No one knows why the Great Separation began, only that it did. Slowly, at first, portions of the great mass detached from the whole to become their own entities. These became the very first stars. Others followed over time, creating the universe as we know it, including our world.”
“How do you know all of this?” Aherin asked, his voice filled with awe.
Kurag smiled. “These are the beliefs that were held by the giants, passed down through the generations. I suppose humans are taught differently.”
Cowan waved a dismissive hand. “Humans are taught that the world has always been.”
Kurag nodded. “Well, in a way, that is true.”
“But the Wellsprings…?” Lenora urged.
“Yes,” Kurag continued. “When our world separated from the whole, it immediately began to solidify into the form it has now. The process happened so quickly that the different elements of the world did not have the chance to equalize with each other. Had that happened, the world would have been smooth and exactly the same everywhere. As it is, we have mountains and oceans, all manner of climates.”
Idris’s thoughts turned to when he used to watch his mother on baking days. Often she would put several ingredients into a bowl before mixing them together. Eventually every ingredient would be evenly distributed, but at first there would be clumps of flour or fruit or eggs.
You truly are simple, farmer, Iona chuckled.
Idris didn’t mind her teasing words. He knew that the image his mind had conjured was just as accurate as if he had come up with something more complex or sophisticated.