All of a sudden…KABOOM!…an unearthly crash sounded, close by in the east, as a brutal, swirling tornado exploded over the hills, straight towards the ruin.
It devoured everything in its path, and bellowed loud with keening winds. A twister of a different breed, preserving a funnel of swirling reds, charring and incinerating everything in its surroundings. Even more terrible than this phenomenon, was the fact that this was the devilry of Briggun himself.
It ploughed on in their very direction, formidable and unrelenting. Redmun was about to flee, only he paused. He noticed a certain despair in William’s eyes. A torture which reminded him much of himself when he too received poisonous tidings from the villainous mystic. Had it not been for his belief in the importance of one’s own decisions, he would have otherwise discouraged William about going to that place; but that would oppose his most treasured principals. Precious codes whereby one’s ultimate independence would always overrule the need to rely on others. These were the consequences of William’s decisions now. This attack, and Webble’s burdensome counsel. It was up to him to contend with them, as Redmun himself had done when cursed by his own past. The only thing the Erethaoí could do was stay by his side, ever hopeful that his own choices may aid the boy yet.
Wren rushed in from being outside, and clutching onto William’s arm so as to pull him along, she shouted, “I don’t know what just happened in here. What I do know is that this thing is gaining on us! The mountain pass isn’t too far away! Come on!”
William, tarnished by distrust, yanked his arm away and sneered, “Get your hands off me!”
All he could think about was what Vahna had told him. As much as he didn’t want to trust it, he could not refute the truth behind her wisdom. Everything she told him made so much sense. He had fallen for Wren. Dark too was her hair. As black and heartless as Webble had illustrated. As concerns her injured shoulder; could it have been the result of beatings from times before? And why else did she wish to wait outside during this meeting? To avoid been recognised by the prophet and, thus, revealing her true identity to all?
Oh, how well she played the victim with him. Hurt by his outburst, Wren stood blinking at him. So frank was the hurt look in her eyes. So baffled. Was this just another of her masks? Or was it genuine? William didn’t know what to believe.
As the tornado lurched all the nearer, she stole herself from him—sometimes glancing back—and fled for the path.
In a lonely whisper, William watched on and uttered, “I really believed her. I really thought she was—” but more notions of deceit overshadowed him.
Everything they shared felt like a lie. It almost seemed like he didn’t care about the tornado, or what it was about to do. He could have just stood in its path and allowed that fiery beast to consume him. Suddenly, Vahna’s voice reverberated in his thoughts.
“Perhaps she will learn the errors of her ways before the curtain is drawn? Then again…perhaps she will not?” it spoke.
Were it not for this minor prospect, he might have abandoned all faith in Wren. Yet he had to believe that she could change. He cared about her too much. But he felt so betrayed. “Could she still change her ways?” he deliberated. “It’s possible! I mean, why not? Especially after her aunt died. She might’ve regretted all those terrible things she did. Maybe she’s trying to work harder at it now…at being good? She could’ve taken a vow like Redmun, to repent! Wait, what if that’s not the case…or the stuff about her aunt was a lie too?! Is she going to be a liability? And what about Jimzin? Where does he fit into all this? I don’t know!” The ill-fated fellow felt truly trapped beneath a wave of suffocation so astronomically uncertain that he lost all train of thought.
Beyond the church, wild forests plunged into flames beneath a scarlet sky, while the northern winds ravaged the land into a hellish state. William was just standing there, limply, in the heart of chaos.
Redmun ran back, grabbed him by his backpack, and ordered, “What are you standing around for, boy?! Have I taught you nothing? Now is not the time to dawdle, so get moving!”
“You don’t understand…” William answered vacantly, not budging.
Taking sympathy, in the face of threat, Redmun replied, “What you learnt here was not what you sought…I’ve gathered that! But it is just one more trial that you must face now. Remember what I told you in training? ‘Only the most difficult of tasks are the ones truly worth doing?’ Now ask yourself this: Will all this be worth it to see your home again?”
The tornado groaned closer, in a demoniac rage. But Redmun’s words fitted. William could not forsake those who needed him most, even at the cost of his own futile desires. Even at the cost of his own life. He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t. Vahna’s counsel was, after all, vague enough to preserve some small hope for Wren…or, at least, that’s what he was telling himself.
“You’re right. It will be worth it,” he said, but not without doubt.
“Indeed it will!” the man smiled. “Now, I suggest we get moving. We linger here any longer, then I fear neither of us will see our homes again. Come now, raise those knees.”
Hastily they started upon the winding pass beside the blazing hills. Before long, they were negotiating that tight walkway above the cove, whilst, rumbling behind them, the tornado’s writhing tail moulted a fiery road.
The trees combusted like matchsticks, and were tumbling down from the hillsides above. They stopped and started as those rolling logs galloped by in great fountains of sparks. The road to Andin’s Shield was not far beyond the cliff pass. But that pass had drop more treacherous than the tornado, and vigilance was key.
They sprinted breathlessly for the pass, but the flaming beast had them in its sights.
Bolting by William’s side, Redmun said, “Only one person could cast such a spell. Briggun must know you’re here, boy! How, I know not.”
William wasn’t without relief, just then. The awareness of their enemy was too big a burden for him to deal with single-handedly.
Not too far ahead, Wren shouted back, “Briggun?! Well, what are we going to do? He won’t give up until he kills us all.”
“Look at her, acting like she’s got nothing to hide.” William grunted.
“I’m thinking!” Redmun replied. “For now… keep running!”
They were escaping along that meandering walkway now. The blazing menace was but a hundred meters behind, blockading their return if they were ever so inclined to turn back. The pass was so slim that the only way out of this mess was to, either, jump to certain death amongst those chopping waves and sharp rocks, or to try and outrun it, which wasn’t very likely.
Too flustered to formulate a better plan in so short a time, Redmun came to a worrying stop, and beckoned, “Do you trust me?”
“Not as much as I’d trusht a good aul’ bit o’ Irish rain right now!” Khrum panicked when the heat began licking his flesh. “Oh, blimey! My shkin! Sizzlin’ like a rasher I am! What have ya got up your sleeve, Redmun? Ha?!”
Redmun took that as a yes, whereupon he suppressed the surrounding havoc, closed his eyes, and went into a trance. He kicked the dust back at his heels like a bull set to charge, and was kneading his knuckles; priming them. Allowing him their uttermost trust, but painfully aware of the impending danger, the others waited, shifting uneasily, sweating profusely.
Folds of electricity rippled up Redmun’s legs, right down to his fingertips. From the very core beneath his feet, he was channelling some sort of charge.
His hands fluctuated with a fearsome heat. His eyes flamed redder than the tornado they were about to face.
Reaching to the sky, he then commanded, “Eèsapa nò goro muaì! Eèsapa nò goro muaì kaina! Eèsapa nò goro muaì nghaou! EÈSAPA NÒ GORO MUAÌ BALNA!”
No sooner had he chanted those words than each of his fellow comrades exploded into a heatless flame; singeing no clothes nor scalding no flesh. Seconds later, the tornado came rushing up behind them, not so much as wreaking the faintes
t warmth upon them. Unbeknown to all, they were each shrouded within a cladding of Shield-fire which Redmun had delivered through his warlock incantation.
At first, it came as quite a fright. To little Icrick especially, who was downright traumatized. On noticing that their enshrouding flames were inflicting no harm, however, their panic subsided. Somehow they knew that it was more of a benefit than a threat.
The tornado had almost trundled up to their very heels, when the man ordered, “All of you! Hit the deck. Now!”
Spitting wildly, they collapsed to the ground. As luck would have it, the tornado rolled right over them and, inflicting no injury, proceeded along the bending pathway.
Watching the foul twister with his searing gaze, Redmun whispered, “Make no sound, nor make one move! Otherwise this plan will go to the birds.”
Lo and behold, the entire blistering mass consumed itself in the distance. In a shuddering wisp of smoke, followed by a ghostly wail, it extinguished into thin air completely.
For a brief spell, they remained stationary, when eventually the man saw it fit to stand.
“H-H-How did that happen?” Icrick stuttered, as his own flames fizzled out.
But it was the Elf who twigged Redmun’s plan, sharply enough.
Dusting himself off, he liberated a nervous breath and said to the man, “Wise thinking, my friend. Very wise thinking indeed! I thought our numbers were up for good, I did!”
“Wise thinking?” Icrick exclaimed, baffled and very much shaken. “What? Why? Will somebody please tell me what on earth is going on?!”
Stell then smiled. “Calm yourself, my hairy friend…” (All that could be heard in the background was Khrum sniggering, ‘Pa-ha!…Hairy friend!’) “It’s fine. No need to panic. What happened is no big mystery. We could only presume that Drevol was watching us during this attack. How else could he be controlling that ghastly phenomenon? Do you follow so far?”
“Yes!” Icrick blushed, feeling a tad obtuse for not catching on.
“And I am sure you witnessed the tornado dying out, just as we did? So as we lay motionless, in ablaze, he must have believed his attack a success, thusly withdrawing and considering us no more. Now, with a little of God’s help, we can continue on this journey in the high hopes of Drevol believing us dead, and therefore, rendering him no more of a hindrance. How delightful!”
“Good grief,” gulped the Grogoch.
Cunning or otherwise, it was far from a delightful concept to him, thinking himself six feet under of all things. Be that as it may, it was encouraging to know that Drevol would no longer be sniffing after them and it was, most certainly, fast thinking on Redmun’s part.
Nevertheless, after everything he’d been through, one of them felt a touch belittled by this.
“So Drevol thinks I’m…dead?!” William asked with surprise. “He thinks that he’s beaten Mysun?”
“We can only hope.” Redmun replied, with the last of the wavering current dwindling from his garbs.
Placing the Poppum on his shoulder, he then asked, “Why? Does that…bother you?”
“Bother me? Not at all. I’m glad. Really.” William blathered. “It’s just, I was kind o’ expecting a little more out o’ him; with him thinking he’d defeated his worst enemy and all.”
“What were you expecting? Fireworks, perhaps?” smiled the man, making the lad blush. “I’m afraid we’re not so lucky, as Drevol celebrates in different ways, lad. When it suits him he’ll probably rejoice by causing more destruction and death. And after learning of your supposed death here in Lythiann, who knows what he’s got planned for when the eclipse comes.”
“I prefer the fireworks idea!” whimpered Wren. “Why couldn’t he just accept this as his victory and sit back with a nice cup of tea or something? Is that not enough? Or is he that bloody ignorant that he has to make an even bigger mess of the world, even though he has supposedly won?”
“Pookas, lass!” Khrum added, patting the last few sparks from his sleeve. “Dummies, the lot o’ them. Wouldn’t undershtand a victory if it came up ‘n’ bit them on the face! If ya ashk me, I’d say Drevol has the brain capacity of some aul’ flea-bitten, mange-ridden mongrel. When he was finished with the tornado there, he probably curled up in his chair ‘n’ tried lickin’ his own—”
“Bawling bat squeaks on it, anyway!” Icrick bellowed, moping over the Symphogram. “One of the straps is after snapping! I knew it felt a little loose, and that tornado didn’t help matters at all.”
“Here, let me have a look. The less I think about Drevol the better!” Wren offered, and examining the strap, she teased, “Dear God, Icrick, you’ve really done a number on it this time.”
She threw an upward glance at William, hoping to coax a smile at Icrick’s expense. It didn’t work like she’d intended. He just turned the other cheek and ignored her. Again she was at a loss; emitting the unspoken impression that she was offended and bemused. William noticed this, but he snubbed it off.
Making a double overhand knot, she went ahead and secured Icrick’s strap for him anyway, then she sighed, “There you go, Icrick. It should work fine for you now.”
“Why, thank you, Wren,” the Grogoch smiled, hoisting the Symphogram onto his back. “What would we ever do without you? You’re the glue that holds us all together, so you are.”
Finding this almost too funny to believe, knowing what he knew, William deployed his staff and snapped, “LOOK! We’re wasting time here. Let’s just go.”
“O-Oh, why y-yes. If that’s what you so wish, W-William…” the Grogoch stuttered, thinking it was he who’d offended him.
The lad slouched in shame. Last thing he wanted was for the Grogoch to blame himself for his troubles. Icrick was one of his most prized allies, if anything. William just wanted some honesty for a change. He wanted to be able to trust without fear, and to not worry about betrayal among friends. Yet some begrudging force was driving against him, refusing him all these things. Most of all, he had a pining to confront the girl, were it not for Vahna’s warning depriving him from doing so.
So, tiredly, he sighed, “Let’s just go,” and began on his lonely stroll towards the Great mountain.
- Chapter Eleven -
Facing the Shield
Hidden suns had risen and gone before they’d finally arrived at one of the most treacherous portions of their expedition. It was a place where they had no other way to go than a slight solitary path that ran up over the great mountain of Andin’s Shield, so branded after the Celtic earth spirit, Andin nà Tuináh, who was believed to have aided King Thide in casting the mountain from the core as means of guarding the west from the darkness of the eastern land.
The Shield rose from the lethal volcanic rock of the surrounding Blade Mountains, and was considered the mightiest, and yet youngest, mountain in Lythiann. A colossal shield, forged from root and stone, it flourished long past the abysmal clouds. Even then, that was but half its climb.
“Look…at…the…size of it, would ya!” Khrum gasped, as the lightning lit up its mighty shoulders.
“This looks far worse than anything I’ve seen yet. Look at it! It looks so… so wicked. So sinister!” Wren replied, swallowing numbly at this dark and domineering thing.
William had a little smirk to himself at that.
“Try not to worry just now, Wren,” said Stell. “This mountain is benign in contrast to some of the other things we’ve come across, believe you me.”
“The Elf knows what he is talking about,” Redmun agreed. “No true enemy lives in this place. Even so, a mountain is a mountain. Take care not to disturb it, and watch your step at all times—”
“—because we didn’t bring any ropes?” Icrick guessed, looking bleakly up.
“…Because we didn’t bring any ropes.” The man nodded.
And he was right about not disturbing it, for its wilds were a haven for feral animals, both fierce and rare; deathly traps; freezing temperatures that could turn the warmth of one’s bl
ood to ice over the course of a nap; and deep, glacial crevasses which went from being a mesmerizing crystal-blue to empty pits of dreaded blackness thereafter.
Khrum and Icrick were begging to go around it. But circumnavigating the great mountain was virtually impossible, what with the engulfing Blade Peaks roving right to the boundaries of Lythiann; both to the north and to the south. Challenging those was completely unheard of, because the sheer jaggedness of their deadly stone was enough to shred through iron as if it were butter, much like the shards of Sètanta, only this was of fouler and slicker stuff. Every square inch of the Blade Mountains stood rigid, like ebony steel, from the tiniest sliver of rock to the very summits themselves. Like the Shield, these peaks were used as a subsidiary defence from Drevol’s demons, whereas never was a second thought given for those who actually wished to infiltrate from the outside.
The trail of Andin’s Shield was therefore the only route to take. Thankfully, Redmun knew of a secret portal somewhere higher up on the mountainside, a shortcut which could potentially save them much needless toil. That is, if they managed to make it that far.
They commenced on their arduous trek up the foot of the mountain, taking a slender path, wild with unusual vegetation. These colourful plants appeared to have bite behind their beauty, like they would sooner deliver a toxic sting than that of a sweet aroma, so nobody neared them should such mishaps hold true. Even Redmun gave them a wide berth, having never trusted them from times before.
They rambled on, and to reach the midpoint of the foothills alone it took them the best part of a day. During that stretch, the sun was blocked from their view. Again impeded by that same monstrous cloud of living shapes, as though uninvited creatures since banished from a celestial paradise were awaiting, in an obscure limbo, to be summoned home to the fetid brimstone of the deep. To make matters worse, the rain was crippling and did not cease for a good long time.
Not all was sullen, however. There was much shelter at the base of the great alp, amongst the pines, where they decided to set up camp before nightfall. Stell tried lighting a fire. A fine blaze always lifted their spirits. But sometimes the weather did not permit it, just as it nearly didn’t that night. But the Elf persevered, and soon the tinder was fizzling away with a toasty heat. Once they got settled that first night, it didn’t take them very long to fall asleep. They were already dog-tired from the first precipitous climb of the foothills, and they would need strength for the coming days.
The Other of One: Book Two Page 33