The First Quest

by Nick Storming

  “That must have been what I saw the crazy old man doing with his hands before I met you Master.” Druska added in realization.

  “If he knew glyphs then he was probably on the council, it’s a difficult thing to master, or so the stories go. I made a study of it for near a century and learned a couple, though I never had the magic to try them. Almost always they are used within the confines of the Academy for the Mage’s safety.” Turning to Druska she asked, “Can you describe him? Was he alone?”

  Druska described the scene, both the old man and woman she had fought and all she could remember of their magics.

  “That’s strange,” Leesha said in puzzlement, “Bong Magi are rich and powerful, I couldn’t imagine any looked like that, or lived so far from civilization.”

  “She is still out there, somewhere.” Braden said. “What else of the Bong Mages? What can they do and what about the Bonded?”

  “That’s where things get mysterious,” Leesha said with a wide grin and holding out her hand once more, the red lightnings danced on her palm and she closed her eyes as if savoring something sweet. “I know at least some of the legends are true.” Looking at Druska she said, “We have both received the Gift from Master, there are several known to exist some rarer than others. Mine is the Gift of the Sorcerer, and yours,” her sweet smile twisted slightly in a twinge of jealousy quickly gone, “is the Gift of the Rogue.”

  Druska’s perfect eyebrows drew together as she asked, “What is a rogue?”

  “It is an incredibly rare gift!” Leesha may have felt jealous for a moment, but it was gone and she excitedly relayed her knowledge, “Some of the greatest heroes of all time have been rogues, Daniel the Hand and Missy Blacklaw were always my favorites. My mother never had anything good to say about rogues, she always said their powers were imbalanced, the Deus-Ex-Machina of Bonded.”

  “I don’t understand.” Druska said.

  “Rogues powers are mysterious, almost nothing is known about them except they have been known to disappear from plain sight, escape from inescapable jails, assassinations and thefts in the night. Things like that are often associated with them.” Druska nodded her eyes thoughtful as she lifted her hand before her face flexing the fingers. Braden could see barely perceptible swatches of shadow dance across the backs of too quick digits, as they flickered in and out of sight.

  “And Harem Mages,” Braden prompted when Druska remained silent and thoughtful.

  Leesha looked at him for a moment before she spoke and for a brief second, he saw fear there before she seemed to see him for himself again.

  “The Academy may know something about Harem Mages master, but none have existed since Melinda the Magnificent founded the Empire and we venerate her for building a world of peace and prosperity, for the most part. Hers were times of upheaval, violence and strife. The woman herself was not without fault, and stories say she was nearly invincible when the full harem was together. The elves remember these things clearly still.” She was quiet for a small time, then began again. “There have been other Harem Mages throughout the history of our world, but so rare that their memories are faded and grey things even to the elves. One thing is certain, each time a Harem Mage comes, something momentous and terrible happens in the world.”

  The three sat in grim silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Braden got up and walked over near the edge of the clearing and with an amused flex of will, drew his cup of tea to his hand heating the liquid inside to a perfect steaming, non-mouth burning temperature. He gazed out at the thinning forest, the occasional bird flying in looping whirls across a vision of idyllic peace. He stood there for a long time thinking about their future and what it was he truly wanted.

  When he turned back, he saw Leesha and Druska huddled over a large piece of parchment, Leesha drawing out a rough map. Coming over and looking over their shoulders he could see the outline of a continent take shape, then near the southern end a dense forest and mountain range, all on the outer edge of the Empire.

  “This is where we are,” Leesha said pointing to the edge of the great forest, “Just south of the inland sea.”

  “Where is the Silver Heart Tree?” Druska asked.

  “Here,” Leesha said, her voice catching as she pointed to a spot on the western side of the great circular lake, “There is a river that winds its way to sea, it has a southern bend due to the foothills of the mountain range, the Silver Heart Tree is hidden in those foothills, amidst an ancient Redwood Grove.”

  “If we are going to arrive before the Summer Solstice, then we had better head out,” Braden said, neither woman had realized he was standing behind them and his voice startled them, “We have to get her home by solstice.”

  The small elf turned from the map, her face a big grin as she leapt up giving a hug. They packed quickly and were soon heading out into the forest. Picking out their way with ease now that the trees were thinning out. In only a couple hours they found the edge of the tree and it was with surprising relief that Braden stepped out into shining sunlight and took in the vast horizon.

  To the north, east and west rolling grass lands dotted with the occasional stand of tall trees spread out. Here and there on distant hills small herd of cattle or sheep could be seen grazing with one or two herdsmen in attendance. Farmland lay in the low areas like patchwork quilts, with small homesteads dotting the land. Off in the distance near the crook of a river, stood a village of sprawling grey roofs with winding lines of smoke trailing from their chimneys.

  “Master,” Leesha said once they sighted the village, “We should discuss what we will say to the locals around here. An elf is a common enough sight but explaining a green skinned woman who looks like that,” she said gesturing to the tall green goddess, armed for a space war, “May be a little difficult.”

  “I am capable of passing undetected among the local populace if it becomes necessary,” Druska said, “but I prefer to remain unnoticed if possible.”

  “How would you blend in Druska?” Braden asked.

  With a mischievous smile Druska, “I made a scan of the myriad races when I was scouting this world. There is a race of under-dwelling elves with a much darker skin than Leesha here. I could hide my blaster and blend in as one of them.”

  “The Najareen!” Leesha said in horror and when she saw Braden’s questioning frown shift to her, she continued, “They are a feared race of black skinned elves who make their dwellings deep beneath the surface of our world. I’m not sure that’s better than just telling people you’re an alien come to kill us all.”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Druska asked.

  “Maybe,” She said her face turning to deep concentration, “Give me a moment.”

  The short elf tiled back her head, mouth opening slightly and hands coming up before her as drew from the magics within. Her eyes opening wide in delight as it leapt into her hands, twin pools of vibrant red that leaked to her fingers and trailed from the tips like mist. Leesha had watched the elven witches and warlocks work their craft and had read every tome on magic she could find. This magic within her was entirely new and different, like nothing she had heard of before and it was all she could do not to spend her every waking moment using it.

  She had a purpose now, a wonderful friend in the dangerous Druska, who needed her help and couldn’t afford for a mistake. If it was an illusion and the spell failed, or some smart individual happened to see through it, then things could get bad. Leesha focused on Druska and let the magic flow from her.

  Druska braced in fear as whips and crackling lines of red energy suddenly leapt from the small elf’s hands straight at her, however they slowed as they approached and delicate gentle little fingers of red magic traced along her skin. The sensation was somewhat unpleasant and Druska flinched slightly from the first touch. It felt like ants crawling under her skin.

  “Don’t move,” Leesha said, “Please. It will be over quickly.” The magical arcs and tracing fingers slide all over Druska’s skin, p
assing through her clothing like it was nothing. As the magic passed her flesh, the deep green of her skin faded to a lighter, nearly undetectable shade. Unless you saw her just out of the corner of her eyes, or knew what to look for, she looked like a pale skinned human woman, with oddly shaped ears.

  “That’s the best I can do right now,” Leesha said, her voice exhausted as she slumped from her work. Druska looked herself over with a small frown.

  “Thank you, Leesha,” her voice sounded strained and Braden saw she wasn’t altogether comfortable with the change.

  “I don’t like the idea of hiding who we are,” Braden said taking Druska’s hand in his, “but for the time being it would be best to hold that information secret. This change is only temporary Druska, we will have you to your old beautiful green self soon.”

  “Thank you master,” Druska said squeezing his hand back in reassurance, “I of all people understand the need for stealth. To be honest I like the idea of us hiding our strengths, it’s good tactics.” Then she walked over and folded Leesha in a warm embrace whispering thanks again to the smaller elf.

  Turning in the villages direction, the three hiked their way through the tall grasses and into more civilized lands. Braden ordered Scry Bot, the small machine learning observation drone he had made, to remain invisible and unobtrusive while they were in civilization.

  Happening upon a trail that ran between farms they drew the eye of farmers and shepherds as they passed by. Braden was grateful to see that while people turned to stare, they weren’t such a strange sight as to cause alarm. The farms got smaller and denser as they drew closer to the village and coming around one low hill, saw the winding river with a great stone mill beside it and just beyond that stood the small village.

  A few dozen townsfolk wandered the streets, between whitewashed houses and shops. The hammer blows from a blacksmiths shop rang out and Braden nearly jumped when he spotted what must be a burly dwarf, as it tromped across the street with a brown wrapped package and a butchers bloody apron hanging from his shoulders. The dwarf was four feet tall and solidly built, with a brown beard that hung down to his knees, tucked within the apron and bristling out the sides.

  Braden and the two women drew stares as they made their way through the town, and he tried to ignore the small collection of people trailing after them, whispering amongst themselves. When they neared the center of the village, they saw a small market with a few stalls set up selling produce and fish, with a two-story inn standing above.

  “Ho strangers!” cried a booming voice. The three companions turned to see a giant of a man, with a great grey beard and shiny bald head, walking towards them with arms outstretched. At his side a small thin man who was fastidiously dressed walked, pushing up his spectacles with one hand and clutching a folder stuffed with paperwork to his chest with the other. “Welcome to Elderbrook Village!”

  “Greetings,” Said Braden and holding out his hand as the man approached said, “I am Braden and this here is Druska and Leesha.”

  “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance sir! And that of your beautiful companions.” With a deep bow, his skull reflecting the sun in their eyes he introduced himself, “I am Mayor Fergus Smithson. Come, come let me buy you three a drink at the Inn.” The man ushered them forward and his small assistant scurried to hold the door.

  They entered the inn to find a warmly lit room half filled with benches and tables, the other half was taken up by a large bar and dance floor. Mayor Smithson lead the three over to a table and called to the innkeeper an old woman with a face twisted in perpetual frown, to bring over five ales for the group. The woman shook her head and scowled but nevertheless returned with a tray covered in mugs of ale.

  Braden felt his mouth salivate when he caught a whiff of the heady nutty aroma. Days of living off space alien rations had been rough and the smell of beer, even lukewarm beer, was enough to make him sigh in contentment. The ale was dark brown, nearly black and strong. He watched Leesha push hers away with a polite no thank you. Druska took hers up with a curious look, and Braden wanted to kick her under the table as she sniffed and then sipped the beer, like someone who had never heard of it before in her life. Which of course she hadn’t. She took one sip and Braden saw the curious expression turn to pleasure and then she took a long pull from the mug. Wiping away the suds from her perfect lips and burping contentedly.

  The mayor was watching the woman in fascination and the smaller younger man had a look of awe on his face whenever he managed to force his eyes to look at Druska. The men didn’t look at Leesha much and Braden sensed some hidden prejudices at play.

  “Thank you for the drink Mayor Smithson,” Braden said raising his mug to the men, “A fine way to welcome strangers to your village.”

  “Well,” said the mayor expansively, “Think nothing of it, that’s just the Elderbrook way.” Leaning back, he drank deep from his own mug. “How were your travels, is it safe out there on the roads this time of year?” He asked by way of making conversation.

  “Safe enough,” Braden said, “It’s the bugs of spring that are the real bandits out there.”

  “Too true, sir! Too True!” The mayor laughed good naturedly and then fell into silence, taking another pull from his drink and finishing it off. He reached for Leesha’s undrunk ale and pulled it in front of himself looked down into the dark liquid. The small man beside him coughed pointedly and shooting his eyes askance at the Mayor tapped the folder in his arms.

  “I’m getting there Simon,” The mayor sighed, “I’m getting there.”

  “What’s this?” Braden asked.

  “Ahh well, I didn’t want to both you with it so soon after you got off the road, I know how hard travel can be. Why once my wife and I rode down to,”

  “Eh-hem!” Simon said with a meek intrusiveness.

  “Ok Simon!” The mayor barked at the young man, who got a contented smile on his face as the mayor continued, “Don’t mind him,” He said throwing a nod at the smaller man, “Our Imperial Clerk here is a bit over-zealous at times. You three wouldn’t happen to be Adventures, would you?”

  Leesha had warned us about this before we got to the village. She said with our weapons and gear, people would already assume we were adventurers. However, the Guild of Adventurers regulated the industry within the empire and any member must have documentation. Those who wished to dungeon delve or explore the wilds as an adventurer could do so without being a member of the Guild of Adventurers but couldn’t accept Imperial Quests or Bounties and their large fees.

  “We are not licensed with the Guild, unfortunately,” Braden said. “Although we have been out in the wilds, getting stronger to hopefully join their ranks one day.” Both the mayor and Simon let out sighs of relief when they heard the party wasn’t part of the guild.

  “That’s wonderful!” The mayor boomed and calling to the sour old innkeeper again, he ordered another round, “You see we have a problem, but can’t afford the guild fees, or have any major incidents show up on the Imperial record, if you know what I mean.” Simon’s shoulders hunched at the words but he nodded in agreement.

  “If we can help,” Braden said, “we would be happy to. But we are in a bit of a hurry, getting Leesha here home.”

  “You don’t know what a relief it is to hear you say that!” The Mayor was slurring his words slightly as he drank from his third ale, “It’s the Logging camp just west of town down the river. There has been some kind of disturbance or haunting there and the lumberjacks have run off! The superstitious lot of them!”

  “Yields are down 95%,” Simon’s first words were shrill and he seemed to have trouble modulating his tone whenever his eyes happened to touch on Druska, “Our taxable revenue is down nearly 27% from this time last year!”

  “Ok Simon, no one cares about you numbers.” Turning to Braden the mayor said, “We would really appreciate if you could head down to the lumbermill and take a look, let us know if there is anything serious, that’s all. Shipwrights i
n Dalton are scream bloody murder and we just don’t want to go through the trouble of bothering the bureaucrats with this nonsense, you know?”

  “They would send Bong Mage Helga.” Said Simon in a near whisper, a shiver running through his slight frame.

  “Who is this Helga?” Druska demanded, leaning forward and trapping Simon in an intense stare.

  “Sh… Sh… Sh… E… E… E…” Simon was locked in place, frozen under Druska’s glare, so she turned her frown on the bigger man. “What is wrong with him? Poison?”

  Mayor Smithson just chuckled, “No Mistress, the lad’s just never been more than twenty miles from his home, never seen anything quite as beautiful as yourself, if you don’t mind me saying. And to answer your question Helga is the Bond Mage assigned to our district by the Imperium. She mostly stays within the walls of Dalton and lets the Lord there fete her, the poor bastard.”

  “Mayor!” hissed Simon, his unease around Druska lost as he stole a look of fear around, seeing who had overheard the Mayor.

  “Helga is a mean one,” The mayor continued but he kept his voice low, “and that Bonded of hers Indolo is even worse, if you can imagine. The rumors about what they get up to in that tower of theirs are dark indeed. Her ‘help’ is the type we try to avoid.” He turned to give Braden and Druska a kindly look, “However if you do find something dangerous out there, you come report it back here. No use getting yourself killed, when there is a powerful Bond Mage down the river a couple days journey.”

  Braden lifted his mug and took a big sip, thinking. He gave Druska and Leesha a glance and both offered subtle nods. Simon, ever the observant one caught the exchanges and his face grew curious. Turning back to the Mayor he offered the man an expansive smile.

  “Seems we may be of some assistance here, and there are some supplies that would help us on our journey to Silver Heart.” Braden leaned forward and with a hearty laugh the Mayor slapped Simon on the back.