by R. W. Weston
"Have you told your dad yet?" she asked with both excitement and concern.
"No, I came here first. I was hoping that he would be here with the other men. Have you seen him since the dance got over?"
"I think he went to walk Margol home, he might still be over there. Why don't you run over and check, and if I see him I'll tell him that you are looking for him."
"Actually, I’ll just head back over to the mill; he’s probably there getting things ready to leave, thanks for the cider."
He took his time walking back over to the mill. The excitement and fear were gone now and his body was beginning to tell him that it was tired, both from being up so long, and from the hard run he had done. Sure enough when he got back to the mill his father was there, most of the items that were not sold had already been put back into the wagon. They left the larger things that Master Pringlan, one of the town merchants had agreed to sell for some of the profits.
He told his father about the events that occurred in the forest that night. After, he decided that before they leave he had better talk to Marion. He wanted him to know so he could keep an eye out for any strangers that may be in the forest around the town. And to let him know the next time they were in town if anyone saw anything. Roland took the opportunity to go find Ty and see what he was up to and to let him know that they were leaving.
The early morning weather still held the smell of fresh snow; the breeze coming down from the mountains was cooler than it had been the last few days. The clouds were starting to roll in and show the definite signs of the first winter rain. Roland and his father decided to leave and try to beat the storm out. To help on their journey back home Ty's father Master Loran loaned them two mountain horses.
Roland took lightening, a smaller brown horse that was sturdy and quick on the run, Joran was given Pleasmon, a white horse with brown spots, older but still strong and sturdy on the mountain roads. With these horses they figured they could cut a half day's journey out.
The higher they climbed in the mountains, the clearer the signs were showing of winter. The leaves on the maples and hemlocks were turning beautiful shades of brown and oranges, with a hint of red every so often. The pines and winter ferns held onto their beautiful greens as though in defiance of winter. Most of the leaves were now being blown off from the stronger winds and leaving an elaborate painting of brown.
The grasses were also showing the signs of winter turning brown and patchy, as if in anticipation of being covered by the cold blanket of snow, finally giving them the chance to rest for the season. The beautiful array of mountain flowers was changing as well. The cooling season was one of Roland’s' favorite times of the cycle, when he could feel the change of the season and see the landscape become the vast array of colors. It reminded him of the pictures his mother would paint in his mind as a young child, of the many wonderful places she said she had visited.
"Roland, let's see if we can't find some shelter. The rain will be here soon and I would prefer to stay as dry as possible. With any luck we’ll be able to get an early start if the rain dies down."
They found a grove of tree's where one of the large pines had fallen and created a nice cubby with plenty of cover. The dead needles and brush would give some soft comfort for the night. After gathering some dry wood for the night fire, they sat and ate, waiting for the coming storm.
They could hear the low rumble of thunder as it bounced off the hills, giving it a deeper resonance, the rain started coming down, slowly at first, then picked up, the thunder now much louder and stronger than it had been. At first it seemed to spook the horses but eventually they calmed down. They sat quietly watching the lightening make its strips and fanciful designs among the clouds. Every so often a line would shoot down to the ground, as though aiming at something.
"Master, I have found him, he returns home, he will be ours," came the thought of the demon spawn that had been following Roland and his father back home. "Tomorrow night we strike, send me my army."
Roland woke in the middle of the night to the same voice he had heard before, wondering if it was just part of his dream.
"Dad, wake up," he said shaking his father from his sleep. "Did you hear that?"
"No, hear what son?"
"I heard that voice, I couldn't make out what it was saying, but I know I heard it," fear and anger rising in his voice.
"Look I know you’re frightened, a lot has happened, with your bad dreams and whoever it was that was spooking you last night. But you were probably just dreaming, try and go back to sleep. We need to leave early to get home before midnight tomorrow."
Roland took his father’s advice and laid back down, however sleep didn’t come as he would have liked. Sleep finally overtook him for the mere fact that he was exhausted.
Being a creation of the Legion, Marcolin did not need the sleep that regular people did. He sat up the rest of the night watching Roland and his father, contemplating the great riches he would be awarded for capturing or destroying this young man.
The rain had stopped during the night, leaving the ground wet and muddy. This made traveling that day slower, especially with the fresh mud and the colder winds. The clouds remained preventing the sun from warming and drying the ground. Fortunately the wind was not as strong as it had been the night before, but it still seemed to sting their cheeks and burn their noses when they breathed. They both liked the smell of the morning after a rainstorm, the air smelled fresh and it made them feel even more alive.
"Roland, why do you keep looking behind us?" his father asked, curiosity getting the best of him.
"I don't know. The last few days have just got me really spooked; I can't help but feel like someone is behind us, like they are watching me for some reason. What I really need is good long sleep, maybe I’ll turn in when we get home."
Little did Roland know that he was being watched, but it was now time for Marcolin to go meet up with the army of night shadows that his master Maglon had sent to him. "Oh what a prized night this will be for me," he thought to himself, "But I better not fail him, for death would be a welcome option to what failure would lead to." If only he had followed a little longer he would have know the certain destruction that awaited him that night.
Roland and his father arrived home late in the evening. Rather than putting the stuff away they put the wagon in the small barn and tended to the horses, giving them fresh hay and rubbing them down to get some of the water off. After making sure they were settled in for the night they went in to prepare a small dinner before going to bed. Both of them new that in the morning they would have a lot of work to do before the heavy snows hit. The weather was turning bad again and they could hear the sound of thunder in the distance.
"Hold still, there's someone at the house," said Joran, grabbing onto his son's arm and pulling him back by the barn door.
Roland had to look twice to see the figure standing in the shadows of the house. With the cloud cover the moon didn’t provide enough light to see by, the rain was now starting to come down in a light drizzle. Joran could see the figure only for moments at a time when the lightening lit up the sky. He could tell that it looked like an older man, possibly a traveler looking for a place out of the rain.
"Ho there," shouted Joran, "who are ye, and what do ye want good sir?"
The gentleman stood up and started walking slowly towards the two of them. He seemed to be walking hunched over and with a slight limp. Joran wasn’t going to take any chances, especially with how his son had been acting the last few days.
"Ho there," he shouted again, "who are ye good sir?"
"I am Maglin of Nomania," was the reply, stopping to quell any idea of danger. "I seek refuge from the storm, if ye all would be so kind as to allow me shelter this night it would be appreciated good sir."
"Very well then come closer that I may see thee."
The old man continued to come closer to the two of them stopping a few parsects away. The faint light of the oncoming storm reve
aled what Joran thought, that he was merely an elderly gentleman.
"I seek thee no harm, as I said, I am but a weary traveler who has had the misfortune of being caught without shelter in a monster of a storm. I only seek the warmth of a nice hearth, and a drink of warm ale to quell the chills."
"Very well then sir, may you find comfort this night in our home," said Joran, completing the formal greeting of the Nolarians.
The three of them went inside the house. Roland set about preparing a fire while his father started making the stew for the evening meal. He was still weary of the stranger, as at this point he didn’t trust anyone he didn’t know. "Maybe he is the one who has been calling me, and following us up the mountain," he thought to himself. He finally got the wood to catch and the fire started.
"Make yourself comfortable in front of the fire, it will be a little while until the stew is ready for eating," said Joran to both of them.
The cottage that Roland and his father lived in did not afford itself too many luxuries, as it was just the two of them that lived there. They had a small wood table with four small wood chairs. They were the first things he had learned to make. There was a small sitting area in front of the hearth. Roland slept in the small loft above the living space and his father had a small room in the back of the house.
"Maglin, is that your name?" Roland asked, taking his seat and offering his father’s chair to their visitor.
"Yes, and I thank you for your hospitality," he said, sitting in the chair and making himself comfortable.
"So where do you come from? Why are you traveling this time of the cycle? You know winter is upon us."
"Aye lad, I imagine you have many questions for me, but please do relax I bring you know harm," he said, patting Roland on the leg. "I come from a land far from here, I am currently seeking employ. I have been with many of the finest royal families in the world. Now, I fear I am growing too old to keep them entertained."
"Entertained, you say, what did you do? Were you a storyteller or maybe a magician? All the stories say that the royal families from all the realms had magicians," he said. Remembering the excitement of the first time he had seen one of the famed magicians when he was still in his first decmen.
"Enough of that son; please forgive him he is still young as you can see. We don't get many visitors here, come now dinner is ready," Joran stated.
Maglin was a very powerful wizard in the Order, sent by the great wizards’ council to seek out the one who would be The Bringer of Light. A wizard powerful enough to destroy all black magic as it now existed. The prophecies foretold of a youth of great power.
It was told of a young man that would be strong enough to control the Tower of Brenkels. He knew that he must find this person before the Legion did. It was believed that whoever controlled this person would ultimately control the world.
Maglin could already sense the smallest bit of magical power in Roland, even though the young boy didn’t know that he possessed this hidden secret. Many people had held the keys to the power of the Creator. It was given to them to aid all creatures, but all too often with this power came wide destruction. Over time many had forgotten how to tap into this great power.
After dinner was over Roland decided that he was going to sleep for the night, in hopes of getting a long needed peaceful rest. Joran and Maglin sat down in front of the fire and took their timbl out for an evening smoke.
"Master, we are here, we only wait your command," cried Marcolin using the wind to carry his message back to his master. The wind carried instant messages that few could hear and then only if it was directed to them, using this gave them almost instant communication.
"Wait; do not attack until they are both asleep, we want this to be a surprise. Remember to bring me the boy, unharmed if possible, but if he is to powerful for you to take, destroy him."
"Yes my master."
The two men sat and visited until late into the night, Joran's curiosity of the outside world getting to him. He also wanted to know if he had any information about the events that were possibly leading up to the war. Both men finally decided it was time to turn in; there was still a lot of work to do in the morning.
Before they went to bed Maglin asked Joran if he could stay around for a few days. With the hope of getting some rest and letting the rains abate a little more before continuing his journey.
"Quiet now, it’s time," said Marcolin in his raspy muffled voice, "wolves and hawks you go first; find him and tell me where he is."
The creatures were the quietest of the group able to move with little to no noise, they quickly went to search the house. The wolves used their ability to see in the dark to look into the house on the lower floors. It was a hawk that caught the first sign of Roland sleeping in the loft. They all quickly returned to their leader to report.
"Now, go Black Knights bring me the boy." At his command the black knights moved in for the attack. The black knights were a creation of the Legion, given the power to blend into their surroundings so quickly that they seemed to be invisible. With this ability they could quickly move and strike with deadly accuracy.
Maglin woke suddenly; he sensed that one of his magical wards had been severed. He quickly moved to the window to see outside, there didn’t seem to be any movement. Knowing that only something that was created by the Legion could sever a ward like that, he knew something was out there. He quickly called on the power of the wind, with that he would be able to sense even the smallest of changes in the wind currents.
"Joran, Roland, wake up," called Maglin, "don't light any lamps, but please hurry come in here."
"What's going on?" both of them asked almost at the same time, while trying to get the sleep out of their eye's.
"There's something out there," he said, "I can't see them, but I know they are there."
The black knights didn’t move quickly on the approach, avoiding any unnecessary movement that could give away their position before an attack. Once they felt they were within striking distance that the victim couldn’t defend themselves, their attack became swift and deadly
When they were within range Maglin could sense their air currents, giving off a stench of the Dark Lord and use of black magic. He knew instantly that they were black knights. He thought that they were sent to kill him, he was sure the Legion knew that he was the one sent from the Order to find the bringer of light, and finally they had found him.
Joran and Roland quickly went out the back door running for the forest, hiding in the shadows of the night. They felt fortunate for the clouds that were covering the moon, giving them all the more advantage of escape.
"Roland, Maglin are you two okay?" asked Joran, out of breath from the run.
"I'm fine, what's going on here?" Roland asked, scared and out of breath.
"Maglin, where are you, are you okay? Son, did you see him come out of the house?"
"No, I.. I thought he was right behind me."
Just then they saw the brightest light either of them had ever seen hit the ground in front of their house, shooting rocks and debris in all directions. Simultaneous with the light was an ear splitting sound that shook the entire ground, knocking both of them to the ground, forcing them to cover their ears from the pain.
"What was that?" shouted Roland, hardly able to even hear himself. "It looked like a bolt of lightning."
Both of them decided to run back to the house to see what had happened to Maglin. When they started running they saw giant balls of flames flying toward the forest in all directions, seeing this spurred the two men to run faster. They knew this was not natural. When they got back into the house Joran made his son go up to the loft and hide. He ran to the back of his room and opened his footlocker.
Buried in the bottom was the sword that he carried with him in the regime. It had been blessed by his wife who was a sorceress with a power to protect him in battle. After he pulled it out he ran out front to find Maglin. He saw that he was the one throwing the fire balls from hi
s hands and calling lightening down to strike some unseen object. He stood there in fear and amazement for a few minutes, watching as the old man worked his magic, not until he heard his son cry out was he broken from his trance.
While Joran and Maglin were out front, a few of the black wolves entered the house through the back door. Finding Roland’s' sent they made their way up to the loft. Roland frightened from all that was happening had climbed up into the rafters of the house and tried to keep quiet. He froze when he heard something coming up the ladder to the loft.
At first he thought it was his father, but it was taking whatever it was too long to get up. When the first wolf showed its head above the floor Roland screamed out in fear, hoping that his father would hear him. Thinking he could escape by going out the window onto the roof he started making his way over to it. When he looked outside and saw a large hawk sitting in front of the window, waiting as though it would kill him if it had the chance. He took one look at the large razor sharp talons and decided to just wait and scream for help.
When Joran got back into the house he froze in his tracks, seeing three large black wolves making their way up the ladder. Shock of what was going on quickly diminished when he realized that his son's life was in danger. He ran at all three wolves screaming. The wolf on the bottom saw its attacker and quickly jumped from the ladder, after it regained its balance it lunged towards Joran with all its force.
Joran quickly jumped to the side and brought his sword down on the back of the wolf, he knew he had made contact when there was a strong pull back. He turned to see that the wolf had a large slice cut through his middle now lying dead on the floor.
The other two wolves had already made it up the ladder and into the loft where he could hear his son yelling for help. He quickly climbed the ladder and caught the wolves off guard. He attacked them from behind killing the second one with a clean strike to the neck, taking the head off with a single blow.