by King, DB
“There will be enemies along the way,” Runa said, a smile creeping to her face as she realized the value in Logan’s plan, “and a small group may be able to evade them where a larger one would not.”
Logan nodded. “There will be battles to be fought, sure, but the soldiers can handle it. And when we reach the other side of the mountains, we’ll have an elite strike team, experienced and powerful.” He raised his finger for one final point. “Not to mention that if we encounter any more Archspirits during the trip, we’ll have time to enlist their help. Imagine returning not only with the solution to your kingdom’s problem, but with enough power to ensure Tyan’s Kingdom is filled with marked soldiers. You would have no equal among the elven kingdoms.”
Runa and Raymond shared one more look.
“This… this could work,” Raymond said. “We could disassemble the caravan, lead it north to the town of—“
“Edgewood,” Logan said. “That’s the name.”
“Edgewood,” Raymond said. “A town where elves and humans will live and work together?”
“It’s highly unorthodox,” Runa said. “But humans and elves have no time for their usual bickering when there’s such a threat looming. They’ll need to come to a consensus if they wish to defend against whatever orcs might attack.”
“I have no doubt they will.”
Raymond took a deep breath, then nodded. “This is insane, no doubt. But it could be done.”
“And Logan’s right,” Runa said. “Taking this caravan through the realms of man was far more difficult than we’d expected. I don’t know for certain if we could make it the rest of the way back. The servants and other support staff would be much safer in a town with a defensible fortress nearby.” She turned to Logan. “We rest tonight, and tomorrow morning we begin the process of taking down the caravan. Then we travel to Edgewood and rest, then prepare our journey.”
“You’re sure about this, Runa?” Raymond asked.
“I’m sure. It, and him,” she nodded to Logan, “are the only chance we’ve got.”
Together, they finished the planning for the next day. But Logan was eager to inform the rest of the team on what had been decided.
“Well,” Callwin asked, who’d been waiting outside of the command caravan. “What’s our next move?”
Logan approached him, looking the massive blacksmith up and down. There was no doubt of his strength, both of body and mind.
“There’s a town waiting for you and your son and the rest of the former slaves,” Logan said. “That is, if you wish to live there.”
“What?” he asked.
“But there’s more—I want you to lead it.”
* * *
It’d taken the entirety of three days to strip the caravan, every member of the group from former slave to soldier to leader carrying what they could. A small part of Logan was nervous as they approached Edgewood—he half-expected Maar to have turned the place into his personal fiefdom, everyone there supplicant and ready to do his bidding.
But that hadn’t happened. Instead, they came across a hunting party on the outskirts of town. Their massive procession froze them where they stood, and when they realized who we were, they lowered their bows.
“So,” Raymond asked as they approached Edgewood. “This is it?”
“This is it.”
The town was already bustling. The ones Logan had left behind had cleared the last traces of the orcish presence, already starting on timber cutting and lot clearing. The members of the caravan all crossed the border of the town, placing their cargo in the center where the bonfire had been.
Maar didn’t waste any time in coming out to greet them. He emerged with an accompaniment of priestesses, all looking pleased and content to be finally serving their master.
“Well, well, well,” he said, clasping his hands together as he came closer. “If it isn’t the War Wizard and the rest of his merry crew.”
“Looks like you did a fine job keeping the place in order,” Logan said, glancing around.
“Oh, this?” he asked with a shrug. “Nothing to it. I simply told them to gather some food and wood and build some new homes. They did the rest.”
“This is the serpent Archspirit?” Raymond asked, his eyes moving up and down Maar. “Looks like an aristocrat to me.”
“I don’t know if you intended that as an insult or not, elf,” Maar said. “But I take it as a compliment.” He turned his attention to Runa. “And look at this fine specimen. I can tell from just a glance that you’d make a worthy addition to my priestesses.”
“I serve only my king, Archspirit,” Runa said. “Speaking of which, I hope you’re ready to watch this place as we complete the journey to the Tyan Kingdom.”
Maar raised an eyebrow. “Is that the plan? Well, I would suggest that you all take a little time to relax before heading out on such a trip.” He glanced past Logan, at the masses from the caravan. “They’re going to need a little time to settle in, I’m sure.”
“Well, you’re not going to worry about that,” Logan said, looking back and seeing Callwin approach.
“Oh?” Maar asked. “Are you that dissatisfied with my work?”
“Not at all. But I’ve enlisted a mayor to take charge of the town while you worry about defense from the fortress.”
Callwin stepped to Logan’s side. “This is the serpent Archspirit? Doesn’t look so scary.” His gaze rolled over Maar’s scales and his additional arms. “A little strange, if I’m honest,” the blacksmith muttered, too softly for Maar to hear.
“That’s because my appearance isn’t meant to scare,” Maar said. “It’s meant to impress.”
Callwin snorted. “There a smithy here?”
“I believe so,” Maar said. “One of the buildings in the northern area. But it’s in quite a state of disrepair.”
“I’ll clean it up with my son. Kevin can be in charge of the smithing before I take over.
“Thank the heavens,” Maar said. “The town’s all yours. I’m much more a ‘from afar’ sort of leader.”
“Good,” Logan said. “Callwin, meet Maar. You’ll be working together while the rest of us are away.”
The two eyed each other up.
“Well,” Maar said. “First order of business is cleaning out the fortress. It’s been far too long since I’ve walked its halls. There’s so much dust. It’s enough to make me wonder why I returned to this godsforsaken world. I’ll be in my fortress. Send some servants when you wish.”
“Wrong,” said Callwin. “First order of business is we get the supplies from the caravan sorted, see what we’ve got. Then we get places for everyone to stay. After that, we assign jobs. And I imagine cleaning your dusty old fortress is pretty low on the list.”
“Fine, fine,” Maar said. “But at least let’s have a little something to eat and drink, first. I brought a little of my private stock from the fortress. And there’s plenty for everyone.”
“Don’t need to talk me into that,” Raymond said. “We’ll feast when everyone from the caravan’s been settled in.”
“Let’s get to it,” Logan said. “Not a moment to waste.”
The masses of people from the caravan trickled into Edgewood. After arranging the supplies in the town center and assigning temporary quarters for everyone, they feasted. They ate and drank, knowing it was going to be the last time many of them would see one another again.
But Logan and Runa and Raymond took no small comfort in the fact that they were leaving the elves and humans in good hands. With solid leadership in the town and fortress, there was no reason Edgewood couldn’t prosper.
After a few days of work, they were ready to head out. The members of the caravan had been put to work gathering resources or building new homes. Maar was in his fortress, the soldiers there under his training, ready if the orcs came for another attack. Once Logan was certain both Maar and Callwin were on good footing, he formed the adventuring party for the trek back to the Tyan Kingdom.
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There was Logan and Runa and Raymond, along with Arachne, Gareth, and Jareth. Four serpent-marked elves—two soldiers and two priests. Four spider-marked elves—two assassins and two summoners. Four unmarked elves. Along with horses and supplies enough for all.
Before they set off, he made sure to mark a few more soldiers, both elves and humans, to ensure the town’s safety. He marked two elves and two humans with the spider assassin rune, and another two humans and elves with the spider summoner rune. When he was done, he then gave four humans Maar runes, two warriors and two priests. Finally, Marseille and another three priestesses came forward to be marked with the Viperguard rune of Maar. The symbol itself was intricate and detailed, more so than any of the other runes he’d done so far. While Marseille already had a mark, it wasn’t done by the hand of a War Wizard, so Logan had to trace over it and add flourishes that the original one did not have. When the entire process was was complete, the priestesses embraced him, tears in their eyes.
Marseille approached him. “Thank you, Logan. You have done what I thought could never be possible. You found Maar, brought him to this world, and provided me with an authentic rune bearing his power.”
“I only did what War Wizards are meant to do. But you know, while Maar is your master, you still serve me.”
Marseille smiled from the corner of her mouth. “It is on that subject that I wish to speak with you. Maar has requested me to join you, as an emissary to the Tyan Kingdom.”
“Can you keep up?” Logan asked.
She nodded. “Now that I bear the true mark of Maar, I’ll have no trouble. And I can always help you in more… intimate ways, War Wizard.”
Logan chuckled. “We’ll see about that. Make sure you pull your weight. And have you got supplies?”
Marseille whistled, and a horse came trotting toward her, laden with a pack. “As you can see, I’m prepared.”
Logan smiled. “Good. We’ll be glad to have you with us.”
They were ready. Three days after their arrival into Edgewood, at the first light of dawn, they set out.
The fate of a continent, of two peoples, was in their hands. And Logan was ready to step into his destiny.
Epilogue
Logan’s muscles burned like fire as he gripped the stones that jutted from the craggy wall of the Bloodrock Canyon.
“You’re a fool, Logan.”
He didn’t need to look up to know the voice that drifted down the rock face belonged to Arachne. She followed up her words with a mocking laugh.
Logan hoisted himself to the next stone, then the other. Slowly but surely, he was making his way up the wall.
“Keep laughing, spider,” Logan called up at her.
He glanced down to see Runa and Marseille and Raymond below, along with the six unmarked elf warriors and four serpent-marked that had accompanied them on their journey. Beyond them was the endless dark stretch of clay hills a hundred paces below. A slip would mean an instant death. And Logan was the only one not secured by rope.
“You have the gifts of an Archspirit coursing through your veins,” Arachne said, her voice echoing down the stone wall. “Why do you not simply use them?”
Logan didn’t answer, instead grabbing onto the next stone and then the next.
It felt good. He hadn’t exerted himself like that in a long time. And knowing that his life was on the line made it all the more exciting.
He flicked his eyes up to see Arachne’s white face staring down at him, her silver hair hanging down on both sides of her face. Jaleth and the rest of the spider-marked were there with her, all watching with eager eyes.
They grew closer and closer with each rock Logan grabbed onto. And when he reached the top and threw his right arm over the precipice, the group formed a half circle around him.
“Let me help you, Commander,” Jaleth said as he dropped to his knees and tried to assist Logan.
“That’s not necessary,” Logan replied as he hoisted himself over the cliffside with one final pull. Once his legs were over, he dropped into a heap, the muscles of his arms and shoulders singing out in pain.
“Are you done proving yourself, ranger?” Arachne asked.
Logan flipped over, the smile on his face the easy, blissful sort that one had to earn through painful physical exertion—be it defying death or the bedroom sort of exertion. When he’d caught his breath, he sat up and hurried over to the edge of the cliff face and reached down to help Runa. She was using the ropes to make her way up, but Logan figured he’d lend a hand all the same.
Logan helped her, she helped Raymond, and together they made sure each of the unmarked elves made it over the side. The task done, they drank deeply from their waterskins and caught their breath.
“I don’t understand,” Arachne said, coming over to Logan. Her willowy, silver body glistened with gossamer strands of webbing, her eyes a deep red. She placed her hands on her narrow, but still shapely hips and regarded him with an expression of curiosity. “My marked were able to travel up the cliff in moments by using my power. Why did you not do the same?” Arachne had taken Silverfang and the rest of the horses up the way around, meeting them at the top.
Logan took one more deep sip of his water and rose. “Because I don’t wish to lose touch with my human side. I worked hard for the skills I earned before becoming a War Wizard. The last thing I want is for them to atrophy.”
Arachne rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You ask me, the faster you transcend the human side of you, the better. You have the makings of true power in you, Logan. This sentimentality will only hold you back.”
“That’s my own decision to make.”
He took a moment to survey their surroundings from the new vantage point. Behind them, to the east from where they’d just traveled, stretched the dark hills of the Deadclay Dunes. They’d been traveling for days, finally reaching the cliff face of the Bloodrock Canyon. The feature had retained its name from years ago—so titled for its tendency to be painted with the blood of those less capable of navigating its treacherous climb.
Up ahead, a smattering of trees shrouded the way to the true heart of the Bloodrock Canyon, the deep valley that cut through the mountainous terrain and led to the inner core of the realms of men. The trip would be a fine preparation for the true hurdle of their journey—the Dragoneye Mountains that separated the western realms of man from the eastern realms of the elves.
The trip would take time. But the party was in good spirits, and they’d managed to avoid any encounters with bandits or orcs. At this pace, they’d reach the Dragoneye Mountains in a week or so. After that, it’d be another several days until they reached the Tyan Kingdom.
“We should rest,” Raymond said. “Unlike your marked, the soldiers do not have the endurance of the gods.”
Logan glanced over at the four unmarked elves. They had done an admirable job of keeping up, but they were clearly slowing the party down. Runa and Raymond, although unmarked, had managed to keep up, although they were clearly exhausted from it. Without magic, the two of them were spurred on by pride alone.
“There is a solution to this,” Marseille said, placing her hand on Logan’s shoulder and leading him away from the group. “Induct them into Maar’s ranks. Rather than burdens, they will become your greatest assets.”
He chuckled. “Maar’s not with us, but at times it seems like he is.”
Marseille smiled. “I am here in his stead. Simply command them to be marked, and the other serpent-marked can train them in the art of magic and combat.”
“I won’t be ordering anyone to take any Archspirit’s mark. If they wish to become one of Maar’s warriors, they’ll tell me themselves.”
Marseille pouted. “You’re too kind to them. You could have an army at your disposal if you would simply become firmer with taking what you wanted.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Logan watched as Arachne approached.
“It’s a waste letting those soldiers go unmarked,” she said. �
��Four perfectly good warriors just waiting to be inducted into my ranks.”
“They would be of more use as Naga warriors,” Marseille interjected. “An army of assassins lurking in the shadows and killing without making themselves known… it would be weak. Spiders scatter and hide when exposed to the light, you know.”
“And silly little girls who deal in dark magics often find themselves in thrall to forces they don’t understand,” Arachne shot back. “Leave the power to those who can control it.”
Marseille opened her mouth to retort, but Logan raised his palm to silence them both before the bickering grew out of control.
“Enough of this,” Logan said. “Our forces are how I want them for the time being. And besides, there’s a good chance we’ll encounter more Archspirits during our trek to the elven kingdoms.”
Marseille smiled slyly. “The weak elven kingdoms. A War Wizard in his prime would have no trouble taking control of such a decadent people.”
Arachne laughed. “And here we see the true nature of the loyalty of Maar’s followers.”
“My loyalty is to Maar,” Marseille said. “And his loyalty will be to the true power of the two peoples of Varsyth. You ask me, Logan is such a power. The kingdoms of man have fallen, and those of the elves are right behind them. With the aid of the Archspirits, Logan could take command and remake these lands in his image.”
“I’m loathe to agree with the snake wench,” Arachne said. “But she has a point. There is a vacuum to be filled, Logan. You might be just the one to do it.”
Such notions of power and rule were the farthest thing from his mind.
“Right now, my focus is on making it to the Tyan Kingdom and repaying the elves for bringing me back to the world of the living. Distracting myself with thoughts of anything else is a good way to lose men in the process of making this journey.”
“Boring,” Marseille said with a sigh. “But perhaps you’re right. Let’s wait until we finish this trek. Then we can discuss greater matters.”
Arachne nodded in agreement.
Logan’s rise as a War Wizard would be heavy with peril. Of that he had no doubt. And as he gained the loyalty of more and more Archspirits through conquest or persuasion, he would only have more voices whispering in his ear, beckoning him to take more and more power. And, perhaps, to offer them a little more in the process.