by Dana Journey
Complete darkness settled in quickly this evening and I could not sleep at all. “Damn a night without the watch and I cannot even rest.” I thought out loud.
“Lyndon, come quick. We have a problem.” The voice was Talon’s and it seemed to be coming from a very old tent.
“What could possibly be the problem, except that I cannot sleep?” I said this before I realized that not only was Talon present, but the rusted knights were there too.
“Where did Jes go? I have not seen him in a while?” I asked Talon.
“Well, lisssten to thisss mansss ssstory.” He motioned to the taller knight.
“My name is Samson, and this is not the first time that the caravan has camped here.” He proceeded in telling me of the attack and about the conversation Ashton had with his guard.
“Damn, what are we going to do; and where’s Jes?” A deep anger started to burn within me.
“Calm down. Your friend Jes went to find the attackers, in an attempt to relay the story and stop the bloodshed.” Samson said while reaching out to touch my arm, this calmed me a little but not much.
“So what...” Before I could finish my sentence a yell sounded from outside.
“Help they are coming: bandits are attacking the caravan.” I could not see the source of the alarm; but what I could see was a line of horses charging the wagons.
The leader of the men was a huge brute, much taller than Talon and almost wider than the horse that carried him. I sure hope I don’t have to fight that man. I settled myself with blade in hand and waited for the attack.
The charge suddenly stopped, and Jes strolled out from among the cavalry. “No one act, do not worry, this is not an attack.” I understood what was happening, but only because of the knowledge that I had just gained. Everyone else seemed to be greatly confused. The story was retold again for the benefit of the remaining soldiers, and the tension left the air; allowing the men to talk freely with one another.
The rest of the night seemed to pass within moments. The sun had just shattered the darkness on the eastern horizon, when a second group of horses galloped through the meadow. The men’s garments were unmistakable; they were the caravan’s guards.
Ashton was the first to speak. “What has happened here? There are no bodies and no captives?”
Jes answered him. “Well, it’s a funny story. I was out in the brush looking for a suitable place to take care of business, when I ran into these horsemen. It seemed that they thought we had captured the caravan which was completely inaccurate. So luckily I convinced them that our men were protecting it, and that they should come for ale and fresh meat.” Anger blazed in Ashtons’ eyes.
The caravan master turned to his closest guard and whispered in his ear. That is when a realization hit me. Even though we stopped the attack, Ashton’s personal guards still outnumbered us. Before the man could finish his instructions, Samson and his brother rode forth in beautiful armor. They were unmistakable now; everyone could tell that they were knights.
“You! I thought you died.” Ashton spat.
“No, and now this place will be your grave.” Samson’s voice was strong and resolute.
Great, I thought, we almost avoided a fight. Samson was the first to strike; his sword sliding easily through the closest guard’s armor, death befell him in one blow. I on the other hand did not feel like fighting this battle, so I slowly made my way towards the orchard. Since I had no real stake in this fight I figured it would not need me either.
Swords clanked and drew blood from every corner of the campsite. I watched as Talon easily dispatched three men, who came within reach of his great sword. Most of the soldiers gave up trying to dodge the white death and attacked Jes and, sadly me instead. The familiar burning swept over me. Now if I died or lived I had no control. So I decided not to fight myself and let the storm sweep the battlefield, be it confined within my own mind.
As fire streaked from my fingertips I began to feel the heat. I felt as if I could guide the streaks of death. Anything that came close seemed to fall. I knew I had regained control if I ever lost it. Excitement filled me; I can control my actions. More and more magic filled the morning air. I felt a sharp pain through my back. The pain was blinding as I lost sight of Jes and his four attackers, as well as the pile of bodies Talon’s sword had created.
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A smile crept over the private guard’s face. When that mage wasn’t looking, I got him. I must have killed him from my vicious attack. The guard did not even have time to remove his sword from the downed man, when it was ripped from his hands by a searing pain. Fear then exploded from his being, his eyes looked into a face of more magic than man. The guard’s hands grasped at his throat, desperately trying to release the pressure from the smoking hands, which had wrapped themselves around his neck. Fire swam through his limbs scorching his nerves. In a matter of seconds the man’s life had been ripped away. This however did not satisfy the mage’s lust for revenge. Pain still ripped through the possessed man’s body; all would pay for the pain. Neither ally nor enemy could escape the power; it seemed that all would die. The rogue and the carrier of the white blade dove for cover hiding near the stream bed; waiting for the power to subside.
No one else truly understood the situation; most died in the first onslaught of the mage. To face a Berserker usually meant death, so there were few stories that existed about the power that these men and women wielded. In addition to the fierceness of the Berserker’s attack, there were not many Berserkers compared to other mage classes. Fire exploded from the ground, killing all that it touched. The mage twisted the flame into the shapes of dragons and other terrifying beasts; the survivors would later swear that he had actually summoned the great beasts.
All feared that their life would be taken away and prayed for a chance at salvation.
12
I tire of waking in places that I have no memory of how I arrived, I thought as the light blinded my eyes. “Jes are you there, please is anyone there?” I could not help but break into tears.
“Yes, I am here Lyndon, stop your crying, but I should warn you, you took quite a beating. You should be thankful that there was a stream bed and a healer present in the battle.”
I quickly wiped my tears away, “Why a stream bed?” I questioned. “Who was the healer?”
“We had to cool you off after your impressive show of fire. You remember that big brute that was the leader of the horsemen. It appears he is quite an accomplished healer. Odd, isn’t it? You would not expect a large man like that to be gentle, or be capable of anything so girly.”
“Well, how did you manage to convince that man to join?” I asked
“Oh, that is an interesting story.”
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The night had gotten dark very fast, much faster than Jes would have liked it. He had left the caravan soon after the brothers told him about the game and its implications.
How could they do this to so many men? Jes thought. I have to find these raiders before they attack.
“Not a step further; announce yourself.” The voice traveled from somewhere up ahead.
“I am Jes of Townsmend. I have valuable information for your leader.” Jes realized that the best thing to do was just tell the truth.
“What information?” Now Jes could see that there were three sentries all with weapons drawn.
“It is about the caravan, good sirs.” The men talked among themselves for a moment.
“Ok, follow.” This is easier than I could have hoped thought Jes.
That is until he saw who the leader was. The mercenaries’ leader was very tall and quite large, even bigger than Talon; and the man carried an axe that could cut a horse in half and for some reason he looked quite familiar to Jes.
“I have been told that you carry information concerning the caravan. It had be
tter be good or you will die with the men that have stolen it.” The leader would be a formidable foe if Jes were to attack.
“These men that you speak of are not what you think. The men with the caravan are actually hired mercenaries. They were hired to protect it from bandits, to protect it for you. I am one of these hired men.” The last comment caused several swords to be drawn.
“So, you are saying that you were hired to protect the caravan.” Jes could tell the man was sizing him up. “We were also hired to protect the caravan, then what you are saying is that we were contracted to kill you?” The leader seemed to be very confused.
Jes then proceeded in telling the large man exactly what the two brothers were telling Lyndon at the same moment, in a not too distant camp.
“You have no proof of this, how can we be sure of your story. You could just be leading us into a trap,” said a small man in the surrounding crowd.
“Yes, this man is correct. What proof do you have?” The big leader finished his cup of ale and handed it to be refilled.
That was when it clicked. Jes remembered where he had seen this man before. The only reason that he had not recognized him earlier was because, the last time they met, the larger man was face down in the mud and Jes was stealing the man’s knife.
“Well, sir.” Spoke Jes. “I do not have any proof of my accusations. But I do have something that once belonged to you, and this item is returned in good faith.” Jes slid a small golden dagger from his boot.
“Yes, that is mine. Where did you get it? The leader surveyed the blade very closely for any damage.
“I saw a thief lift it from your drunken body, back in the Burning City. I would have returned it sooner, but you left the city before I could find you.” Jes knew he was lying, but the truth does not always get things done.
“I thought I had lost it for sure, thank you. My tutor gave me this blade when I completed my training. I am very grateful, and with such a gift I shall trust that you are not misleading.” The leader bowed.
“Thank you, good sir, but we need to travel to my camp.” Before Jes could finish the same smaller man spoke again.
“I do not believe this man, for he is a thief. I think we should kill him and all those who cower at the caravan.”
“I am the leader of this group. If you wish to draw that pitiful sword of yours and challenge me to take my place as the leader, then do so; otherwise keep a hold of that tongue of yours.” The larger man was on his feet with his massive axe in hand.
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“And to tell you the truth, I think that little guy pissed his pants. After that no one questioned my tale and shortly we arrived. I think you know what happened after that.” Jes sat down and took a breath of relief, having just finished his account of the previous night.
“Oh, then I guess I should thank you for believing my friend and for saving my life.” The large healer only nodded his head.
I thought for a second of asking how I had arrived to this bed, but the idea passed and with a satisfied mind I slipped into a peaceful sleep.
13
A small crystal ball rested on the table. Very few still lived with the knowledge of such a thing, and this one called herself Jesibell. She had gone by many different names, most were lost on purpose.
Jesibell was a witch. Witches are usually just female mages or monks that turned from their teachings and went to live with nature. Neutral by nature, these women find solitude in the forest and usually spent their lives crafting, healing potions or helping the local flora and fauna. Not ones to bring attention to themselves, these women wanted nothing more than to be left alone. There are times, however, that witches are hired to do Nature magic. Nature magic is using spells and potions to affect nature, be it water, wind, earth, or fire. Centuries had gone by with little interaction between witches and townsfolk, a name for those who lived in a city or town.
For some reason the King of Ogland decided that magic users were no longer needed or desired and led a Cleansing against them. This terrible time was given the name because the land was nearly washed clean of all magic users. Most went into hiding and stopped practicing, but two powerful witches seemed to have been bypassed. Jesibell was one of these witches.
Jesibell was not typical as she did not wish to be in Nature. Her witchcraft came from the macabre; using sadness, pain, suffering, and even death to heighten her magic. After many years the king suddenly gave up his conquest and returned to his castle, where he has remained unseen even to this day. Some say that his Queen bewitched him, but others believe that he completed his mission and went home.
In reaction to the Cleansing, Jesibell had massed an awesome army. Most of the Humans were either witches or warlocks, which is a witch’s male counterpart. Some were notable soldiers and heroes who had been bewitched by Jesibell herself. After the king abandoned his quest, she took her minions and built a castle deep in the Marken Woods named Saraphala. Throughout the years Saraphala’s population increased and what was once a castle transformed into a small fortified city. Most of those to move there were rogues and witches who had escaped the genocide. Some of the residents were special and had unique talents, individuals who never should have sworn allegiance to Jesibell.
Jesibell, on the other hand, had become bored hiding away in her castle and could always be found gazing into her crystal ball. Some said that she was fond of speaking to the paperweight, and others thought she was planning her conquest of the kingdom. No one really knew why and none were brave enough to ask.
The day had started just like every other morning. The city awoke to yells and screams of women being attacked which sadly was a common occurrence; or possibly just a deal between scoundrels gone badly. No one really cared to find out, for fear of becoming a victim. The main shock this dawn was not the random deaths or other hostile actions in the city streets, but with the sudden appearance of Saraphalas’ ruling witch, Jesibell.
Her presence was an omen of bad events to come, and her speech only reinforced her citizens’ fears. “Hello, my loyal minions, I have seen a terrible sight. Evil is about to befall us. A group of men more powerful than any that have come before have the intentions of destroying our fair city and killing your trusted leader.” Many of the onlookers glanced around in amazement. “When you all came here to escape I allowed it under one condition; you all must fight for me when I require it, and the time for fighting has come. Those who wish to survive the onslaught will join the march, any that do not will be punished most severely. Now prepare yourselves however you see fit. The ensuing battles will start soon.” Without another word she disappeared back into her fortress. Those who heard the terrible address could not hide the fear; even the scoundrels and ex-pirates were terrified. They knew that if Jesibell was worried, that they should be fearful of losing their lives easily.
The witch’s city had been defending itself from attack for many years. At first it was soldiers and trained armies, after being embarrassed time and time again they gave up. Many other barbarian tribes attempted to change the balance of power, none succeeded. The reason the populous was afraid of this eminent attack; was because the witch Queen had addressed her people directly and not through a sub-ordinate. The thought of disobeying their ruthless leader was far worse than the idea of the enemy’s blade. So all there was left to do was prepare.
The streets had cleared in astonishing quickness; the witch almost let a smile creep to her lips. “My beautiful master what are your wishes.” The red haired man destroyed the silence.
“Nothing, you will stay here with the prisoner. I will find and eliminate this new threat.”
“Yes, my goddess.”
“Now leave me to my preparations.” The red one hurried from the chambers.
None can resist me; I will find this man and bind him to my will, thought Jesibell. A laugh escaped her as she stepped from her robes allowing the cool breeze to touch
her naked flesh.
14
“Why is it so dark?” I asked. Whether I said it aloud I did not know.
“Hello is anyone there?” Now what has happened has the world gone dark? I thought.
“Welcome my son.” The voice seemed to float from the abysmal blackness.
“Who is there? Show yourself?” I found myself yelling at nothing.
A spell that the Librarian had taught me came to my mind; it was for illumination of the surrounding lands and the idea of light burning within my mind. A light burst into existence. As quickly as it came it extinguished. Fear swept over me; at least I think it's fear. I could not move or make a sound. This feeling of helplessness had become a reality in my life. The difference now was the familiar burning of magic, building within my soul was absent, and only the cold grip of eternal darkness flowed through me.
“Do not fear this place; nothing can harm you here.” The words seemed to emanate from everywhere and yet nowhere. “I know what you attempt to accomplish with your short life, for I gave this quest.” Ah, the stranger from the tower, I thought.
“No, I am no lowly barbarian, he was merely a messenger. My name is also irrelevant; all that is important is the goal at hand. The protection of the house and gathering of the four is all that is to be. I must have the chosen ones. They are the difference between rebirth and darkness.”
“What do you mean, rebirth or darkness?” Anger swelled up within me.
“Your destiny has been written from the time before your birth.” Shock overwhelmed me, what is he talking about, what the hell am I doing, many questions and doubt stampeded my consciousness.
“The last is being held captive. The woman holding the key is a seductive witch named Jesibell.” As the words faded they took the darkness with them, leaving Jes’ worried face.