by I. B. George
Robert was preparing to charge again when he saw the giant stretching his palm in front of him, almost as if he was begging him to stop, while a throaty murmur confirmed that he was in pain from the blows he’d received.
Worried by the sudden appearance of the other giants, Azar was about to strike again, lifting a stream of flames from the embers, when he heard Robert calling out:
“Stop, Master!”
Azar was confused by the prince’s request but he obeyed him and kept the ball of fire in the cup of his hands, ready to intervene anytime.
Propped on his right knee, the giant lowered his arm. The flames had bitten deeply into his ice body and Robert could see streams of water running down the creature’s wounds.
“The Fire People!” the booming voice of the giant rang out. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen humans like you…”
Silence descended again. For a few moments, the only think you could hear was the heavy breathing of the giant before them. At last Robert plucked up the courage and shouted at the creature.
“Why did you attack us? We are peaceful travellers and we don’t want any troubles.”
The giant sighed and lifted his eyes.
“Flame Human, I didn’t mean to attack you. I could feel you ever since you came out the ravine, just as I felt through the years the few hunters who ventured to this corner of the world. The few Urfadors – ice giants – who were left after the Battle of the Two Realms have decided years ago, to live their lives peacefully, away from people. When you set up camp on my back, I lay still hoping you won’t linger long, like the rest of the other travellers so far who would rather stay away from here. Only the fire you lit up burned through my body and with every moment that passed, the pain became more and more unbearable.”
“Is your name Urfador?” asked Robert.
“No, Urfador is the name of everyone of my kind. My name is Aszul and long time ago, in the land beyond Dor’var – the Frozen Sea – or the White Sea as you call it, I was the head of all the Urfadors.”
“We ask for forgiveness then, mighty Aszul,” said Radius diplomatically. “We had no intention of harming you or disrupting your peace or your… home’s,” continued the Professor, pointing at the surroundings with a wide gesture. “We were on our way to the farthest side of this place, looking for a human dwelling”
“Mardor – the Frozen Village – bordered by Dor’var and Boktar – the White Cliffs,” uttered the giant in his hollow voice.
“You know where it is?” enquired Robert timidly and full of hope.
“Many years ago, I saw many soldiers taking thousands of people there. Me and the other Urfadors tried to stay away especially since we saw one of the masters with the soldiers.”
“Masters?”
“Yes, a sorcerer from the realm beyond Dor’var.”
“So, the king does have a sorcerer, just like the rumour goes. Now I understand how Tyreas has managed to be at our heels all this time,” the Professor’s face lit up. “All this time I thought we had a traitor among us.”
I still think that, Professor, said Azar to himself, looking intently at Rolan who hadn’t yet dared to come out from behind the tree where he was taking shelter.
“Is this place you mentioned… Mardor, far?” enquired Radius.
“Not very far… about three hours away from here,” replied Aszul, still suffering with the pain of the wounds inflicted by Azar and Robert.
“Maybe three hours for you, honourable!” called out Rolan waggishly from his hiding place.
The giant didn’t reply. He tried to get up but the pain in his leg didn’t allow him to, so he placed his knee in the snow again.
“I think we might be able to help you, Aszul,” said Robert, emboldened by a new idea that popped into his head. “I know how we can heal your wounds.”
“There’s no need… I will heal, with time. The cold and snow here are the best cure. I had worse wounds after the Battle of the Two Realms.”
“I think we could do that quicker, Aszul. That’s the least we can do after all the harm we’ve caused you. Just think of it as our way of saying sorry. Rolan!” called Robert, looking to see his companion.
“Me?!” jumped Rolan. “What could I do to help him?”
“The water,” said Robert and Rolan’s face lit up as he suddenly understood what he meant.
The giant turned towards Rolan.
“You’re one of the Water Chosen,” he said.
“One of the Water Chosen, yes,” confirmed Rolan.
“Your kind were the first people we had to fight when we came here. They understood after a while that with our ice bodies, the water could only increase our strength. Then the Fire People joined the battle and thus fate was no longer in our favour and we lost all the lands we had conquered. Fine warriors they were, but the bravest and fieriest was King Gaval.”
“My ancestor,” said Robert proudly. “The grandchild of the great Ga’al.”
Aszul turned to face the prince.
“Now I know where you inherited your courage from, young prince… I assume you are Prince of the Fire People, seeing that you are the heir of that Gaval I’ve seen on the battlefield, am I right?”
“That’s right, Aszul. I am Prince Robert Eremon, ruler of the lands in the Kingdom of Fire. The people we are looking for are my subjects who were unjustly banished from the kingdom.”
“I wish you luck then, Prince. No one understands better than me how hard it is to be away from your kind.”
Robert thanked Aszul for his well wishes with a nod of his head then he looked at Rolan, begging him with his eyes to heal the giant.
In order to use his power, Rolan needed water. He focused his strength on extracting water from the snow around him and from the puddles which had formed around the embers scattered in the snow.
One by one, the drops gathered obediently in his palms, creating a sphere of water. Slowly, a stream of water started from Rolan’s palms, which he guided towards Aszul’s leg. The water crystallised as soon as it touched the ice giant’s leg and after a short while, the giant was able to stand up. Rolan then focused his energy on Aszul’s shoulder, which started repairing itself, filling up the hole left by Azar’s stroke of fire.
Aszul mumbled in satisfaction, feeling again at the height of his powers.
“I would’ve never thought that my former enemies will one day heal me,” said the giant in his booming voice.
“Forgive me, great Aszul, but I don’t think we’re enemies. If so happened that you fought against the people of Fantasmagoria, it was only because you tried to conquer those lands.”
“You’re right, Prince. All these years when I’ve been away from the other Urfadors, we had time to realise we had been gullible when we trusted our masters’ words who said it was our duty to conquer new lands. Now I know they only cared about their thirst for power and their desire to own as many souls as they could. The Urfadors race only needed the land of Var-al-Dor, the Ice Realm.”
“We make many mistakes in life, great Aszul, through our own fault or not,” intervened Radius. “What matters is that we understand we’ve made a mistake when we do something wrong.”
Aszul mumbled in agreement. Everything made sense now, after so many years of imposed exile. They’d believed in their makers, the wizards from Var-al-Dor who only created them in order to use them in battle. When the wizards left them behind, in agony because of their wounds, he realised that to them, the Urfador kind meant nothing. What’s more, he had discovered kindness and understanding from people who he believed until now to be his enemies.
“Safe trip… friends,” uttered Aszul. “I hope you fulfil your destiny, whatever that may be.”
“So long Aszul, King of the Urfadors,” replied Robert.
“Let’s go, friends,” called out Radius at his travelling companions. “We must reach Mardor by evening and the road will be long and difficult without our horses.”
They grabbed their
bags and weapons and started on their way. They had unloaded the horses when they stopped for their rest on account of wanting to give the animals a moment’s respite after having carried them on their long journey from Zathar’s Trail.
They advanced with difficulty through the snow, heading north as they tried to reach the White Sea as quickly as possible, while ahead of them the ice giants moved out of the way, allowing them to pass through.
***
They had been walking for three hours along the shore, tired and shivering, eager to reach Mardor, the dwelling place of those from the Kingdom of Fire.
The road was long and arduous especially since approaching the White Sea when the wind started blowing strongly, turning the snow into a blizzard.
They advanced in silence, thinking about the end of the journey they’d started many days ago. They were so close that they stopped feeling the pain caused by the seeping cold or the wind whipping their faces and turning their cheeks red.
Far ahead in front of them, they could glimpse through the fog the outline of a cliff, a sure sign that that’s where the shore ended. From what they knew, Mardor was situated at the foot of that cliff wall, meaning that they had less than an hour to get there.
Huge chunks of ice were thrown onto the shore by the raging sea. It was still daylight, which meant that the eight friends had managed to reach Mardor as they’d planned, before sunset.
“Mardor, my friends,” called out Captain Vidar from the front of the convoy, as soon as he saw through the fog the first dwelling, a modest house made of wood and stones.
As they advanced, the outline of other dwellings started taking shape and Robert and his friends realised shortly that there were hundreds of such houses, meaning that the number of people living there was quite high.
They went in through what seemed to be the main road of the settlement they had only imagined until then. A few children who were playing in the snow ran away when they saw them, disappearing into the fog which engulfed the village. In vain did Captain Vidar call them for they made themselves scarce, leaving a few wooden toys behind.
There was no one to be seen on the road, which was lined on each side with the shelters build by the people in the Kingdom of Fire. They all had a strange feeling and if they hadn’t seen earlier the children running away, they might have thought they were walking through a ghost town.
The road started to widen as they advanced and led them to what they imagine was the centre of the settlement. The long sound of a horn rang out, echoed by the cliff walls and magnified by the grave-like silence around them and about another twenty paces, the outline of people started darting through the fog before them.
The number of people standing in their way started to get bigger, from a few tens to a few hundreds.
More figures appeared from behind and all around them and the eight companions found themselves encircled from all sides by menacing faces with weapons in their hands.
“Stop where you are!” called out a commanding voice belonging to one of the people in Mardor.
Captain Vidar didn’t go any further and the others stopped behind him, instinctively flanking Robert.
The whistling wind was the only noise you could hear and everyone’s nerves were stretched to the maximum. The inhabitants of Mardor had not seen any other people for almost ten years since no one else had ventured into this wild, god-forgotten place. They didn’t know what to expect from these travellers who had appeared from the west so they came upon them, their weapons ready.
On their side, the eight friends couldn’t know how those in Mardor would react when they saw them, so they chose to keep their swords in their scabbards convinced that such attitude might have seemed hostile to those around there.
“Who’s your leader?!” the voice from the crowd rang out again.
Radius took a step forward towards where he thought he had heard the voice who asked the question.
“I am!” he called out, keeping calm.
“And what might your name be, honourable?” asked the voice again.
“Radius, Professor Radius!”
A disapproving murmur rang out from the crowd. Excited voices started calling out unintelligible words. Everybody knew the story of Professor Radius who had invented war machines for King Tyreas, helping him to take over Elementis.
“Honourable, you’re either not who you say you are or if you really are Professor Radius, then you came here to look for death. You have no friends here, you traitor!”
The Professor kept his cool as he heard the harsh words spoken by whoever was taking on the role of spokesman for the people of Mardor.
“I know all that!” replied the Professor across the boom of the crowd. “I have come to ask for your help!”
“Are you mad?!” the voice rang out again. “What makes you think we would offer our help? Do you think that in ten years of exile we have forgotten the support you’ve given to the tyrant in the Kingdom of Water? Do you expect us to invite you to dine and be merry with us, like old friends?”
Azar left the group and joined Radius.
“I’m Azar, former Master of Arms at Sardar Castle! And with us is Akura, the former Counsellor to the Eremon House and Queen Neri. We would like to speak to your leader of a life and death matter!”
Azar’s words had a huge impact on the crowd, which seemed to abate a bit. They couldn’t understand how come Master Azar and counsellor Akura, close friends of the ruling family in the Kingdom Of Fire would associate their names with that of Radius’s.
The people in front of them started moving to one side, allowing through an old man who made his way to the front of the crowd.
“I’m Aedas, the leader of this settlement!” he uttered. “I shall listen to what you have to say but you’d better chose your words carefully because the fate of some of you shall rest on them.”
As the old man stopped speaking, everything went quiet. Everybody was waiting to hear what those who troubled the peace of their home after so many years had to say.
“Honourable Aedas and everyone present,” began Radius, “the Oracle of Konaar prophesised ten years ago that a few days from now the reign of Tyreas shall come to an end with the help of the blue light and the last heir of Ga’al of Eremon House. We came here hoping that you shall joins in our attempt to free Elementis from tyranny!”
“There isn’t any heir of Ga’al left in Elementis,” uttered gravely the old man. “Queen Neri, may the gods rest her soul, perished soon after birth in the siege at Sardar Castle. We haven’t heard anymore of the child, he’s probably lost somewhere with his father, who came from the Human World.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, wise Aedas,” argued Aryana as she joined Azar. “I am Aryana, Queen Neri’s sister and I can tell you that the boy is still alive.”
Astounded by the appearance of Aryana, the old man bowed as low as his hunched back allowed him.
“Your Majesty, I’m glad to see you again. I remember Your Highness from when you were just a child and left to Akros, against the word of your father, King Neron. I trust Your Majesty’s word if you say that Queen Neri’s child is still alive, but do you have any idea where he is?”
“Of course, honourable Aedas, he’s right here, with us!” called out Aryana as she urged Robert to come forward.
Robert stepped shyly from among his friends heading before Radius, Azar and Aryana.
“Here is Prince Robert Eremon, descendant of the great king Ga’al of the Eremon House and heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Fire.”
A rumble spread across the crowd which had gathered closer to the eight friends’ group, wishing to get as close as possible to the prince who was bringing new hope to them.
Propped in his cane, old Aedas lowered himself to the ground in one knee with difficulty while the rest of the people in Mardor followed his example.
“Blessed be the moment I laid eyes on the heir of the Eremon House,” said the old man with tears in his eyes. “The g
ods have listened to my prayers! Welcome among your people, Your Majesty!”
Robert advanced towards the old man and placed his hands on his shoulders.
“Get up, honourable Aedas… and the rest of you, people of the Kingdom of Fire.”
The people got up, obeying the prince’s request, some with tears in their eyes, other as happy as children at the prince’s arrival.
“How can we help, Your Majesty?” asked Aedas looking at Robert with tenderness.
“Honourable Aedas, as Professor Radius was saying, the prophecy of the oracle mentioned a certain ‘blue light’ which will bring the reign of Tyreas to an end. We’re assuming that this blue light represents the Blue Flame, the family’s secret weapon, painted also on the coat of arms of the Eremon House. From what we know, the power behind this weapon lies with some sort of blue dust whose secret was only known to the family members and a few alchemists at the castle who helped to prepare it. We were hoping to find someone here who knows this secret.”
“As for myself, I don’t know it, Your Grace, but maybe someone here knows this secret,” the old man answered simply.
Those who stood nearby and heard Robert’s words started enquiring if anyone among the over three thousands souls in Mardor knew the secret of the blue dust.
The crowd was getting louder and louder as the question was spread among them in the hope that someone would know the answer, but no one came forward.
The eight friends looked at each other hopelessly, as they watched their last hope go to ruin.
“Friends!” called Robert after half an hour during which he realised the secret had been lost when his mother died. “The gods are setting us a challenge. I was hoping to learn from you the mystery of my family but it seems the time is not right yet. However, we cannot abandon and dismiss the oracle’s prophecies. We must believe in our fate to the end. I ask you to join me and my friends in our attempt to overthrow King Tyreas. With or without the ‘blue light’, we have a destiny to fulfil and we can’t give up until we’ve done everything in our power. In two and a half days, when the four moon phases have passed according to the prophecy of the oracle, we shall attack Heldor Castle. Are you with me?”