Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal

by Jason L Crocker

  I do not know who was more surprised by the instantaneous appearance of the ring of intense fire that encircled Olaf and his men, but I sure was grateful for its manifestation. Eight feet high, and burning with such ferocity that even I took a step back away from the severe heat it radiated. It could only have been Jaramel.

  Now recovered from the sudden shock, I imagined the rage that Olaf was feeling, but then soon heard it.

  “TARAGON!” His voice roared with blind fury from somewhere within the confines of his supernatural prison walls. I smiled at his sudden denial of my life.

  “Another time Olaf, for its getting late and I do have to be going. I hope you understand.” My shield arm immediately jolted upwards with sudden speed to deflect the arrow that was sent in reply as a second whistled close by my ear. Definitely, time for me to be going I thought.

  Leaving Olaf to his own devices, I moved towards the gap between the dwellings that would lead me once again to the tree-covered slope and to safety, but as I was doing so, I almost collided with the figure of a robed man who was leaning against the side of one of the huts. My hand went immediately to the hilt of my sword before realising it to be Jaramel.

  Looking tired and weary, his cloak of darkness had all but left him. The young magic user had obviously over exerted himself to the point of exhaustion through the use of his magic, and now stood with a drooping head whilst his back rested against the supporting timbers of a hut. Upon hearing my approach, it was all that he could do to raise a sleepy head and cast me a look. I was quite surprised by the sudden dullness of his eyes, where before had burned two bright furnaces of fire, now there was only a flickering of a flame left to be seen.

  “You’re supposed to be waiting by the horses,” I quipped in remark.

  If I could see his smile in the darkness, I would have, but instead, I heard it in his reply.

  “and let you have all the fun.” His head turned slowly in the direction from whence I had just come. “The flames will not hold them for long,” he stressed, “already they are starting to weaken.”

  Upon hearing this, I instinctively turned my head back in the direction of the street. The thought of confronting Olaf for a second time this night was not favourable, to say the least, especially now that Jaramel no longer had the use of his magic.

  “Come then, let us be swift.” I urged.

  Jaramel shook his head and waved me on with his hand. “You must go without me, for I have not the strength for the climb ahead.”

  I shook my head and grinned upon hearing the noble suggestion. “Come now master Jaramel,” I said forcibly whilst grabbing at his arm and hauling him off in the direction of the incline, “just what would master Luka say if he heard you talk like that?”

  The climb back up the southern slope was not an easy one. Three times now Jaramel had tripped and stumbled on the roots and stones underfoot, and three times now I had pulled him back to his feet. This young man, this weak and feeble apprentice wizard next to me was almost crawling on all four limbs to achieve the climb as I aided him the best I could by half dragging and half pulling him whenever his strength did fail. He had just risked his life to save my own, and if he believed I was going to just leave him here to die on this unforgiving slope, then he was greatly mistaken. Now I owed him a life, and I was not going to be happy about it until I had paid him back.

  Upon reaching the top of the incline, I placed my hand on Jaramel’s shoulder to stop him falling backwards before turning around to view the scene below.

  Multiple glowing torches were moving through the gaps in the trees like fireflies at the base of the slope, gradually making their way forwards in their futile attempt to capture us.

  “Come Jaramel, if we stay here any longer, then Olaf’s going to start thinking that I require my old job back,” Jaramel said nothing as I walked him to his horse, all the while aiding him for fear of his legs giving way. Once I had helped him to mount, I pulled myself astride Storm and guided his horse to the road.

  “By the way,” I said awkwardly, “Thank you.”

  Jaramel looked across to me in the darkness. “Is it not amazing what you can learn in books,” he replied weakly.

  Just as we were about to set off, he spoke again.

  “You have the orb,” I nodded firmly before displaying the silk bag tied to my waist.

  “Please,” began Jaramel, “let me hold it if you will, for it will aid my recovery.”

  I hesitated openly before loosening the cords to the bag and passing it to Jaramel. After saving my life, it was the least I could do.

  “Sure, just …whatever you do, don’t drop it!”

  The journey back took longer, by the time we approached the path that led to Artemis’s home the first rays of golden sunlight were stretching their warming fingers across the land. We turned into the bend that would take us to Artemis’s door, such as it was, and I noticed that at least now Jaramel had recovered enough of his strength to be able to sit upright in his saddle once again.

  Upon arriving at the healer’s home, I quickly dismounted from Storm and turned to Jaramel. The young apprentice waved a hand in my direction and dismounted by his own accord. Without waiting further, and concerned for the life of my friend I entered unannounced into the healer’s home.

  Darkness and gloom filled my vision for a second time, but I did make out the approaching form of Artemis.

  “So you have returned.” Artemis croaked.

  “Baram, is he well?” I demanded.

  “I sensed the approach of my orb, so I administered the last of the healing agents to your friend over an hour ago. Look he waits for you now.”

  My eyes strained to penetrate the darkness, eagerly searching for the position of the bed and for any clue as to where Baram might be. But an instant later the room unexpectedly burst into light, illuminated by many candles that had come to life with a will of their own.

  The weaponsmith could now clearly be seen sitting on the edge of the bed with his head held between his hands. I moved to stand by his side.

  “Taragon?” The big man looked puzzled, and I took note of his bandaged leg as he rose to stand on shaky legs.

  I grinned a grin like no other as his face changed into a frown.

  “You smell like a rat’s arse!”

  “It’s good to see you too my friend,” and with that, I contained myself no longer and reached out my arm to embrace him fondly.

  A moment later Jaramel entered the room.

  “Jaramel,” greeted Baram.

  “Master Weaponsmith,” replied the mage warmly, “how are you feeling?”

  Baram rubbed his head and groaned.

  “It feels as if I have spent the whole night drinking.” He suddenly looked about himself as if viewing his surroundings for the first time. “Where are we anyway?”

  “Time is against us at present my friend, so I’ll explain that later,” I replied.

  “As you can see,” began Artemis smugly, “I have kept my part of the bargain, and now what of yours?”

  I nodded to Jaramel who produced the orb much to the hunchback’s delight. Artemis quickly crossed the room to slide the cloudy coloured orb from its holding bag into his eagerly awaiting bony grasp. His delighted face then changed from one of joy to suspicion as he balanced the sphere in his hand as if he was testing its weight before casting Jaramel a distrusting look.

  I decided to intervene.

  “And now you have your orb returned, there is but one further thing we would ask of you Artemis, or should I say Ackrulas?”

  Ackrulas turned his head sharply to meet my gaze upon hearing me call out his true name.

  “So you known who I am do you?” he shot Jaramel another look of disdain, “well it matters not that you know who I am, as it matters not to me that I have three southerner spies amongst my midst.”

  The surprise reflected on my face was clear enough to read. But just how did he…

  “Oh, you need not look so shocked Mr Ta
ragon Stein. Your friend here talked a great deal about a lot of things as he was coming out of his fever. But they mostly centred around a woman named Kendra.”

  I turned on Baram who held his hands up in a vague display of innocence. He then tried to speak and voice a defence against the ghoul-like healer who was making all these wild accusations concerning his character, but in the end, he gave up to silence.

  “You need not blame him,” defended Ackrulas, “he knew not what he was saying. Although I am curious to the one thing he did not mention, and that is, what you are seeking?”

  “We search for the Soul Crystal,” revealed Jaramel unexpectedly.

  Ackrulas nodded his head in understanding. “Ahh, I see. You seek to use its power against the armies of Vorgannon. Am I not mistaken?”

  “No you are not,” confirmed Jaramel in answer, “but now we have need of your powers to help us find its location.”

  A smug, knowing half-grin spread across Ackrulas’s face like a disease. He turned around and placed the orb on a small golden coloured stand that was cupped like a humans hand upon the table. It fitted into its home snugly.

  “I have no love for the south,” snapped Ackrulas with his back still to us, “but I also have less love for the north. All I really want is to be left alone, although it seems to me that no matter wherever I go, I cannot find peace. So tell me, what makes you think that I’ll be willing to help you.”

  I looked to Jaramel who remained silent, so I guess it was left up to me to convince him of his aid.

  “Ackrulas. Do you realise that it won’t take long for the man who took your orb in the first place to discover that it is the only possession in his treasures to be missing.” Although at this point the lump in my boot reminded me that it was, in fact, the second object he would find absent!

  “And when he does, where do you think he will return with his men?”

  The ghoul like wizard looked thoughtful as he stroked his bony fingers against his pointy chin.

  “I should say that you have at least half a day at best,” I let the realisation of my words play on Ackrulas’s troubled brow for just a moment longer before playing my hand.

  “Currently in our possession, we have a spare horse that we no longer require, and by the looks of things, you soon may be in need of one,” I had thought of selling our pack-horse anyway. Storm seemed happier without its burdensome tethers and was far swifter. As for the packhorse’s load, it mainly consisted of camping items that could easily be distributed amongst our remaining three horses. Besides, the growing feeling of urgency that I had recently felt told me that speed was becoming more of a priority.

  Ackrulas nodded his head upon hearing my proposal but still said nothing. It was time I closed this deal.

  “And I will also throw in ten gold coins for your troubles?” I added enticingly

  “Five of which is mine by rights anyway!” the healer barked.

  “Oh yes, I had forgotten about your door. Still, an extra five gold will buy you many hot meals and a roof over your head for a few nights at least.”

  The wizened healer thought on this a moment longer before nodding his head in agreement. “You shall have you're reading Mr Taragon Stein, but one of you will have to pay the price.”

  “But I thought we just agreed on…” the hunchback shook his head.

  “Not the physical price Mr Taragon Stein, but the spiritual one.” His eyes went to Jaramel as he read the confusion on my face. “Surely your young mage has told that in using magic there is a price to be paid?”

  “Yes, but …I,”

  “And it is no different with the powers that I wield,” interrupted Ackrulas. “Yes, I will be able to find the resting place of Nicadimus’s Soul Crystal for you. But the fee the orb requires in doing so is a little of your life force.” The healer grinned another one of his unsettling smiles as he gauged our reaction.

  “Lifeforce!” I repeated. “Exactly how much life force does this thing need?”

  “Oh not much,” replied Ackrulas casually as he waved a hand in the air before him, “A week off your life is the standard fare, no more, no less.”

  A week I thought! So much could happen in a week.

  “Too much of my life already resides within the orb,” said the healer regrettably. “It will have to be one of you. It is also best if the one most connected to the Soul Crystal pays the price.” I looked to both Jaramel and Baram only to discover that both their stares were fixed on me.

  “I guess that would be me then,” I sighed resolvedly.

  “He’s had a visitation dream,” explained Jaramel.

  “Oh good!” clapped Ackrulas excitedly, “this should be no trouble at all then.”

  Ackrulas made his way around the table and came to sit on its far side with the orb placed before him. Then almost as an afterthought he stopped what he was doing and looked up to me. “I believe the physical price is ten gold, you may leave the horse outside until I have need of it.”

  Smiling sarcastically, I retrieved the fee and paid him his price. As I closed my purse, I noticed that there were few remaining gold coins amongst the silver and bronze that were there.

  “What do I do?” I asked inquisitively, as Ackrulas began placing his hands either side of the orb.

  “You should do nothing. Except to place one of your fingers upon the orb when indicated to do so.”

  “Oh, and one more thing, Mr Taragon Stein,” added the healer. What was it now? Did he want me to whistle him a tune as well? “Do not remove your finger until I have completed my reading. This is most important.”

  I noticed that Jaramel and Baram had both moved closer so as to better their view of the forthcoming event. It was okay for them; all they had to do was watch. I was the one who was giving up a week of my life so that this could happen!

  “It will help if you concentrate your thoughts upon the Soul Crystal,” said Jaramel helpfully.

  “But I don’t know what it looks like,” I protested.

  “You will not need to,” Jaramel quietly replied.

  Ackrulas then closed his eyes and touched either side of the orb before falling into a trance-like state.

  I am not sure if it was my imagination playing tricks on me, but I could have sworn that the light in the room suddenly dimmed. I looked to the flame of one of the candles burning brightly on the table, and it appeared as if nothing was amiss, but then it happened again! Imagination or not, the light was definitely leaving the room.

  I looked to Jaramel who stood just behind me and to the left. The fire in his eyes was more restored than before, and he was using them to stare unwaveringly at the table. I turned my head back to the orb which was now starting to glow with an illumination of its own. It started out dim at first but soon grew in intensity until the whole room was bathed in an unearthly pale white light.

  It was at this point that the broken figure of Ackrulas opened his eyes to reveal the same illuminated glow as to be found in the orb. Emotionless and expressionless, and without uttering a single word, he slowly nodded in my direction. Now had come the time for my big moment.

  I decided the best finger to use for this undertaking would be my forefinger upon my left hand. I had come to this decision by using the logic that should anything grim and unforeseen happen to it, then at least I could still wield a sword, and release and fire the crossbow bolts with my trigger finger upon my right.

  I placed my out-stretched finger uneasily nearer the small glowing orb. Soul Crystals and bane demons were far from my mind, as the only thought I really had as I placed my finger onto the illuminated surface was…is this going to hurt?

  Thankfully to my surprise, it did not. The only sensation I felt was one of a comforting warm that radiated throughout the tip of my finger and along my hand. I never knew that having the life sucked out of me could be so…soothing.

  With my fears put to rest, I concentrated my feelings and thoughts upon the Soul Crystal. Ackrulas did not remain silent for lo
ng. Suddenly sucking in a great gasp of air he kept his eyes upon the orb and began to speak.

  “I see its presence. I am following it now. Powerful, so powerful it is.”

  “It must be fully charged,” whispered Jaramel.

  Ackrulas continued.

  “You are not that far from it now. I see at least a three-day journey ahead of you.”

  “To the Deadlands?” I said aloud, not believing them to be more than a day’s ride away.

  Ackrulas shook his head whilst keeping his eyes firmly fixed upon the globe.

  “It does not reside within the Lands of the Dead,” he stated. This was news indeed!

  “Then where?” I asked eagerly.

  “Fire to the northeast,” came the unexpected reply, “I see pools of fire and rocks that burn with smoke.” I looked deep within the orb myself, half expecting to see the things Ackrulas was describing, but I saw nothing except the light that radiating from within.

  “There is something else,” added the seer “I see…little demons.”

  “Little demons!” I said aloud again. This was beginning to sound like a bad dream. Pools of fire, smoking rocks, and now little demons, suddenly the Dead Lands had new appeal.

  Ackrulas nodded once as the warm feeling in my finger suddenly left me, the light then faded from the orb, and the room returned to normal.

  “The reading is over,” explained Ackrulas, his eyes once more a milky white.

  “That’s it!” I said somewhat disappointed. Ackrulas shot me a look.

  A brief moment of silent ensued as I took the time to contemplate all that had been said.

  “Jantar’s map,” said Baram cheerfully, “it had the whole north-eastern section of it unaccounted for.”

  Ackrulas nodded his head. “It’s true that we do have a land of flame to the far northeast. Uninhabitable so I’m led to believe.” Standing up he rubbed his eyes and stretched his misshapen back as best he could. “I’ve heard many a strange rumour concerning the people returning from that place. Some come back with their flesh torn from their bodies,” he grinned, “whilst others never come back at all.”