She was like nothing he knew of in the Sub-Realms. He would not compare her to a mushroom, or the air moss that grew through the Sub-Realms, or white gems—she was too lovely, real, and warm for any of those.
Quiris waved her fingers, and a plant of some kind appeared in her fingers that Arghen had never seen before. It was full of pure white layers, was soft and beautiful, and had a green stem supporting it that was slimmer than a mushroom’s.
“Were you looking to compare Me, perhaps, to this flower, which is called a rose?” she asked with a smile.
Arghen blinked. Right. Flowers. Those were Surface things. He’d learned descriptions of some from his schooling but had never actually seen one before. Looking at it a second time he could see that it had defenses of sharp thorns, like some mushrooms had, growing out of the stem. The thorns made it perfect.
“Yes, my Goddess,” he said. “It is you, only in flower form. I will call you ‘The White Rose’ from now on because you are like this blossom—pure, beautiful, and dangerous all at the same time.”
She laughed a silvery laugh. “Arghen Spinam! To think that I should be given such a name by one such as you! I accept your name for Me, but I charge you only to use it in private.”
“Yes, my White Rose. I will never reveal to any my secret name for you. I will enshrine it in the privacy of my heart,” he said seriously.
She laughed and looked pleased. Arghen liked her laugh. It was free and clear, and it made him feel good deep inside.
“So, you choose to worship Me. And you say you will do anything for Me. Are you sure about that?” Quiris asked.
“Yes, my White Rose. I am.”
“There is a role for beings such as yourself who wish to go one step further than just worshiping a Deity. They are called Champions, and I do not have one presently on the Surface.”
Arghen immediately said, “Then let me be your Champion, my Goddess. I will do whatever you bid, for whatever you desire is my desire as well. As the thorn is the weapon of the rose, so let me be your thorn. I hereby swear myself to your service for now and all time. I will be your weapon and your Champion on the Surface or under it—I do not care which. I will give you the devotion and worship you deserve, and promise to sing your praises to all I meet!”
Quiris smiled again, touched. “I see there is no turning you back from this?”
Arghen firmly shook his head ‘no’.
Quiris waved her hand, and a glittering rod of diamond appeared in her hand. “Then by Head, Hand and Heart,” she said, touching each named place with the scintillating rod, “I appoint you My Champion.”
Arghen shivered a little as a tingle ran across his skin each time she touched him with the rod. That was a feeling foreign to his experiences except when he had been ill. He searched inside him and decided he didn’t feel sick now—the poison had already worn off long before. But Quiris apparently wasn’t done with him yet.
“It seems I do not have to supply you with funds or treasure, as you forethoughtfully took care of that yourself,” she said with a grin.
Arghen reddened. Apparently she also knew about his self-preservation efforts after the battle near Relkanav.
“Spare me your blushes,” she said. “I am approving of your actions.”
She stepped backwards about a foot and raised her hands so that her palms faced him. He wondered why she was doing that until a stream of silver particles poured forth from her palms and stormed around him in a manner he had never felt before. The silver swirls danced around his body like the way water did when he went swimming in one of the Relaxation grottos under one of the small waterfalls, and tingles raced across his skin.
When the silver sparkles abated, he felt that he positively glowed with health and energy—all wounds he had taken from the killing field of Relkanav and from the Mulwurf were gone. He was also clean from head to toe like he’d been scrubbing himself in the hot springs. A scent on his hair and skin teased his nose of something that he’d never smelled before but was pleasantly spicy. He now wore armor such as the upper echelons wore—overlapping pieces of a dull silver hand-stitched to sturdy leather covered him from throat to mid-thigh. Under that, he now wore a black shirt with billowing sleeve and a black and grey over tunic with a long silver spear emblazoned on it. He wore breeches of a material that was like, yet unlike, dranth skin, which were tucked into black and grey quality boots made of a thicker version of the unknown material. On his head sat a metal helm of the same material as the armor was and decorated in the same fashion. Around his waist was a thick black sword belt supporting a silver and black sword which was decorated in the inverse of the black and silver spear he now held in his right hand. The belt also carried a sturdy pouch that held the treasures that he had taken from the battlefield. At his feet was a pair of large, brand new saddlebags, which looked full to bursting. And finally, on top of the bags was a book bound in white leather, which said simply ‘Champion of Quiris’. His mouth fell open at what he’d just experienced. It had to have been magic! He closed his mouth and shook his head briefly to help him focus on the next words Quiris said.
“That,” she said, pointing to the white-colored book, “will teach you everything you need to know about being a Champion. And this,” she said, waggling her fingers so that a pendant of a silver spear superimposed on a winged circle hanging from a silver chain appeared in them, “will let anyone know that you are one of Mine.”
She stepped forward and hung it around his neck, then stepped back again. He swept her a deep bow.
“Thank you, my Goddess,” he said, then stood up and gazed at her adoringly.
She waited a moment, but as he said nothing further, laughed again. “You somehow knew I had more to give you, did you not?”
He smiled. “As I cannot carry saddlebags on my own, I assumed that in your own good time that you would be giving me some sort of mount to carry them.”
Quiris turned and waved her hand in a circle at the rock of the wall, and a hole opened up in it. But no, it was more than a hole—it was a tunnel. He was about to ask about it when she whistled, and he was somehow not surprised to hear that it was the whistle sequence to which Stalker, his dranth, was trained. Several distant snorts were heard, and in a few minutes, Stalker came trotting up the tunnel and into the little cave where they were. Arghen threw his arms around his mount, overjoyed to have him back. He scratched Stalker on the spot under the jawline that the dranth liked best, and he was rewarded by hearing the little pleased sound Stalker always made.
“Thank you, thank you, my Goddess,” Arghen said brokenly, turning to her. “He was–is!–my first trained dranth.”
Quiris smiled softly. “I know, my Champion.” A little more briskly, she said, “However, now it is time to test your mettle, My thorn. I am going to send you to the Surface world now. Caelestis has set a new agent of Hers in action who will need help to complete the task assigned, and She set Me the task of finding that help. Since you have decided to worship Me, you are the remedy I choose. There is a lot to learn about being one of Mine, which you would best learn in the company of others, so this task will be useful on more than one level.”
He turned a little grey at her words but nodded his acquiescence. Then he had a thought.
“Not that I want to seem ungrateful, my Goddess, but the surface light will steal my sight away. What good will a blind Champion do you?”
Quiris frowned faintly at him. “Do you think I would not provide protection for My Champion? How little faith you have! But that will change. Watch, My thorn!”
She produced from thin air two items that were black and shiny and curved. One was large, and the other more sized to him. They looked a little like blindfolds except that they were stiff and solid.
“Here,” she said. “These magical eye wraps allow all creatures of Underearth, both you and Stalker, to be on the surface in broad daylight with no discomfort or pain. You will not need them at night, but make sure to have them on at dawn
else your sight will be at risk. At least, that is, until you are more used to the surface world. Let Me show you how to wear them.”
She reached over and placed the smaller pair on his face, the straight sides of them sliding in above and behind his pointed ears. As soon as she let go, everything became darker as the eye shades sealed themselves to his skin, leaving no gaps on the sides. Arghen wrinkled his nose a bit. It was an odd feeling to have weight on the bridge of his nose no matter how slight. He ignored it as he dropped to one knee and doffed them with a flourish. He was secretly relieved that they easily released the hold on his skin at the touch of his hand.
He looked up at her. “My Goddess, I thank you for all you have given me. I swear I will do my best to prove your trust in me.”
Quiris laid her hand briefly upon his head. “Just remember that the surface world can be tricky and dangerous, and that you will meet with suspicion in many places. However, you will soon meet those who will accept you for what you are. I will direct you to them.”
She snapped her fingers, and in her hand appeared a bone scroll case which she gave to him.
He bowed his head to his knee before her, clasping the bone case to his heart. “In what way do they need my help?”
“It will become clear in time,” she assured him in her silvery voice. “You will know your mission by the unusual white and gold.”
“The white and gold what?” he asked.
She didn’t answer.
“The unusual white and gold what, my Goddess?” he asked again.
When she didn’t reply again, he glanced up to see that she was no longer in front of him. Standing up and looking around didn’t reveal her anywhere about. She was gone. He sighed, wishing she’d stayed a while longer; then examined the scroll case. Inside there was a map that led him to a particular tunnel that would take him to the Surface. He felt cave moths in his stomach at the thought. The Surface was a place that had been shunned by Relkanavians since the Disjoin. But now, for love of his Goddess, he would be the first to brave it. After putting both the eye wraps, the Handbook, and the map into his new saddlebags that seemed to have taken the place of his improvised one like his present clothes and armor had replaced his scavenged ones, he lay back down and tried to finish his rest period. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all from the excitement of what had just happened, but exhaustion caught up with him all at once and he fell deeply asleep almost as soon as he was horizontal.
When he next awoke, he found a remembrance lying beside his head: the white rose she had shown him, with a single silver thorn upon the stem. He donned his armor, grinned at the rose fondly, and pinned it to his cloak. He packed up Stalker with the new saddlebags, mounted up, and followed the travel tunnels using Quiris’ map. It didn’t take that long for him to find his way out of the Sub-realms; only one meal was needed to reach the tunnel that he was to take to reach the Surface. He might have gotten there sooner, but he’d spent a portion of his rest time closely reading the Handbook that he’d been given and reflecting on the differences between the Sub-realms and the Surface world as revealed through the pages of his Handbook.
Once at the proper tunnel mouth, he didn’t see any great sky light—or sun, as he knew it was called—but he was nervous and put his and his dranth’s eye wraps on anyway. He nudged Stalker forward, but surprisingly, the dranth balked. Arghen drummed his heels on Stalker’s scaly sides and finally convinced him to go up the increasingly steep incline.
Arghen came out of the cave mouth onto a small ledge somewhere in the foothills of a mountain chain. The dranth scuttled around nervously, and he had to employ a tight hold on the reins. It was night, with the moon only a crescent which didn’t give off much light. At least, Arghen thought it was the moon. It matched the descriptions he’d read about. He took off both his and his dranth’s eye wraps so as to be able to see more clearly. Arghen’s first impression was a feeling of being overwhelmed with space, as his eyes swept the hillside down in front of him and out to the plains all around. Other impressions came tumbling in on top of one another for things he was not sure he had names for presently, though he could guess at most of them. He looked over to his right, and spotted a small dirt track down to the plain, where there was a small fire hard against the side of a purple iridescent boulder. He could see a shadowy figure leaning up against it, obviously on guard.
Quiris did say she was going to direct me to the people she wants me to help, so likely the figure I see below is one of them, he thought to himself.
He firmly ordered the cave moths in his stomach to fly away at the thought of meeting a Surfacer, slapped the reins on Stalker’s neck, and rode down the side of the hill towards the fire, and his future.
About the
Mist Gate Crossings Series
The Mist Gate Crossings Series follows the adventures of humans Lise and Jason after they accidentally stumble through a gate connecting our world to a world filled with magic, elves, and all manner of fairy tale creatures.
To join The Mist Gate Crossings community online, find us at cbaybooks.com and on Facbook at facebook.com/MistGateCrossings.
Besides discussing the finer points of the Mist Gate Crossings’ novels and novellas on our Facebook Page, we also discuss, review, and recommend other teen and adult Sword & Sorcery novels. We would love to see you there. For more information on the individual Mist Gate Crossings books, keep reading.
Prisoners of the Keep
The Mist Gate Crossings Book 1
By Susan Bianculli
Published by CBAY Books
After being chased by a mugger through Central Park, Lise stumbles through an odd patch of mist and into a whole other, more magical dimension. With only an elf, a fellow human, and the blessings of a goddess to help her, Lise must find a way to create her own place in this new world.
Bascom’s Revenge
The Mist Gate Crossings Book 2
By Susan Bianculli
Published by CBAY Books
After stumbling through an odd patch of mist and into a whole other, more magical dimension, Lise had begun to adjust to her new life. With new friends and a new commitment to the Goddess Caelestis, Lise thinks she’s ready for the next adventure. At least, she thinks that until the only other human is injured and then kidnapped just as another mist gate opens. Forced to choose between Jason and her life back in New York, Lise’s new faith is put to the test.
Descent Into Underearth
The Mist Gate Crossings Book 3
By Susan Bianculli
Published by CBAY Books
The search to save a missing friend takes Lise, Arghen, and their companions deep underground into a world of slavery, cruelty and torture: the world of the Under-elves. Finding their friend in such a location will take cunning and all of Arghen’s knowledge of Under-elf life. And if infiltrating an Under-Elf city weren’t enough of a challenge, it seems that a mysterious enemy is following them.
The Grey Riders’ Search
A Mist Gate Crossings Novella
By Susan Bianculli
Published by CBAY Books
Dusk and Auraus and their band, the Grey Riders, have been tryingto determine what is happening to travelers disappearing in the Garrend Mountains. Unfortunately, after being captured in a raid, it looks like Dusk and Auraus might be the ones disappearing. See how Dusk and Auraus came to be at the Keep in this Prequel to Prisoners of the Keep.
Old Disciplines, New Uses
A Mist Gate Crossings Novella
By Susan Bianculli
Published by CBAY Books
For years Arghen has been the model warrior Under-elf. He trains and battles with the others from his underground city-state. He lives an unremarkable life. Then, one day he mercy kills an enemy soldier instead of capturing the elf for his commander to torture. Stripped of his rank and banished from his home, Arghen must find a new purpose for his life. Discover how Arghen came to find himself on the Surface in this prequel to Prison
ers of the Keep.
The Urban Survivalist
A Mist Gate Crossings Novella
By Susan Bianculli
Published by CBAY Books
Jason’s life has never been easy. As a member of the Urban Survivalists, a group of homeless kids just trying to survive the streets of New York City, Jason’s day is spent trying to steal and scavenge enough to buy food for himself and his friends. Then one day he chases the wrong girl into the trees in Central Park and out of the everyday world. See what brings Jason to that fateful day in Central Park in this prequel to Prisoners of the Keep.
FROM THE PRISONERS OF THE KEEP
THE MIST GATE CROSSINGS, BOOK 1
CHAPTER 1
My helmet under my arm, I stood on the long padded mat behind the en-garde line, sweating a little as I waited for the signal to start. The morning sun lit up the windows of the Crosstown Fencing Academy but fortunately didn’t reflect off the long mirrored wall into my eyes. The cavernous second-floor hall where the Academy held classes had once been a ballet studio, and the mirrors that had helped the ballerinas watch their form as they danced now helped us.
This was my last bout for this Saturday morning class, and I faced Heather Chung. I was a little nervous for two reasons: she was one of the best students here, and she had hated me ever since I’d joined the Academy. I’d beaten her the very first time we had crossed swords, and she’d never forgotten it. But a few nerves before a match were a good thing, Mr. Bronson, our fencing coach, always said during lessons. They meant you weren’t taking your opponent for granted. And I certainly never took Heather for granted; she was too good.
Old Disciplines, New Uses Page 5