Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal

by Jason L Crocker

  I chose to ignore both of his last remarks. I had heard enough bad news since taking on this job only to have my ears filled up with even more of it!

  “Then if you’re right,” I said to Ackrulas.

  “Right!” he snapped back viciously, “I’m never wrong!”

  “Then we’ve been heading in the wrong direction!”

  Chapter Fourteen:

  Three days of hard riding had followed after Ackrulas’s reading from his globe had guided us to a longer destination than our original route.

  The curious healer had even gone so far as to wish us well in our task in hand but had then immediately spoiled his gracious remark by reminding me smugly that I also had one week less in which to accomplish it.

  I cannot say that I was sorry to leave behind the man who had just saved Baram’s life, even if it was by the conditions that had been set by him, I was grateful all the same. As agreed we had left Ackrulas our packhorse after first dividing up its load amongst our remaining three mounts, and had then bid the healer farewell before leaving him to whatever fate lay before him.

  Our route had taken us north on that day, all the way through the forest that was Ackrulas’s home, until Baram and Jaramel’s recent ordeals had forced the weariness in their bodies to give up our journeying for that day. Unable to travel further, we had made our camp between the borders of the forest and the huge plain that would have seen us through towards the Dead Lands, had that still been our course. Personally, I was thankful that we would not be travelling into those unholy lands. Baram had said once that he would rather fight a Fangore than face the undead. I would not have gone as far as that, but I knew what he meant.

  An easier route we could have travelled and one that would have saved us nearly a day’s ride would have been to simply head northeast from the home of Ackrulas. But that road would have taken us too close to Vingard, and to Olaf. Instead, my plan had been a non-complicated one. On the morning of the first day since leaving the forest, we headed north, then roughly east and just kept going!

  As it happened, these last two days had passed with some success. Recently we had crossed over the great northern river that on Jantar’s map ran down from the extensive northern mountain range to split the land into three. Although to be fair it was late summer, and our crossing could have hardly have been described as a hardship. I was just thankful that we were not attempting the same during the thaws. I think then we could have experienced some real difficulties. Meanwhile Baram had recovered fully from his near miss with death and was now taking the time to find fault with the dry air and featureless landscape around him, and Jaramel’s eyes once again glowed with an intensity to rival that of any fire, a sure sign that the mage was ready for the next test of his abilities. We even had the good fortune to happen across a makeshift town that was not marked on the map. We had stopped, due to Baram’s grumbling stomach and against my better judgement, to replenish our food supplies in exchange for the remainder of my coin. I had never liked the idea of giving up the last of my gold, it always seemed to make me feel more vulnerable than before, but then the villagers did have plenty of food in their stocks, and by the look of them they needed my coin more than I.

  It had not been all joyous travelling, though. The lack of northern warriors was disconcerting, to say the least, almost as if they were preoccupied elsewhere. Not that we had seen much of anything come to think of it. It appeared even the animals avoided this desolate area like the plague.

  Then there was the ominous feeling of dread that crept through my bones like a cold. A sense of danger ahead, a feeling that told me that I should have turned around and kept on going… but I did not. I am sure Jaramel and Baram felt it too, but none of us spoke of it.

  It was now approaching night on our third day since leaving Ackrulas, a day that was foretold by the healer as the number it would take to reach the Soul Crystal. I just wondered if he had taken our little diversion north of his forest into account.

  Another half an hour of riding and a suitable site for our camp presented itself in the form of rocky crags that jutted up from the land. One section of these jagged rocks was formed into an almost alcove like shelter some fifteen feet high, and a good a place as any to make our camp.

  “What is with this land?” grumbled Baram as he dismounted from Anvil, “the air is too hot, this damn soil looks like the colour of blood, and I haven’t seen a decent tree in over half a day’s ride!” I smiled at his griping as I searched for my Glowball staff. Yes, it was good to have Baram back to himself again.

  “It is easy to see why my friend the north regards us with envious eyes,” I replied. “Tell me, would you like to live in a land such as this.”

  “Live?” said Baram astonished, “I believe things only come here to die!” Baram’s words struck a cord within me, and almost immediately after he spoke he looked regrettably at both myself and Jaramel, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that we…” I shook my head over the matter.

  “Come on you old bear, “ I smiled, “let's see if we can’t find something to use as firewood.”

  Firewood it seemed, or even a close substitute, was decidedly lacking in this part of the land, and after a fruitless search lasting nearly twenty minutes with darkness taking hold around us, we dejectedly returned to our campsite only to discover Jaramel sitting cosily beside a small-magically created fire. The young apprentice looked up as we neared.

  “I could see that you were having some difficulties in your search, so I decided to improvise.”

  Sitting down beside him on an unusually warm ground, I looked him straight in the eye. “You could have chosen to intervene earlier,” I said in retort.

  Jaramel shrugged. “I can sustain the fire comfortably for several hours if needed. It is not much of a strain, but I do prefer not too.”

  “Time enough for a hot meal then,” said Baram happily as he rubbed his stomach before moving to collect the food sack from his saddle.

  With our light now almost gone I took hold of my Glowball staff and once more ignited its magical brilliance. Ramming its wooden shaft home in the earth, I turned to find Jaramel’s stare again transfixed upon it by some beguiling force. I was about to question him over his keen interest in my possession when Baram’s call from near the horses drew us both from our musings.

  “Taragon, Jaramel, come and look at this!”

  Taking hold of the Glowball staff with one hand, with my other held cautiously over the hilt of my sword I stood as Jaramel stood and moved curiously to where Baram was waiting at the edge of our encampment.

  “Tell me,” said the big weaponsmith as we neared, “the sun does go down in this accursed land does it not?”

  “As far as I’m aware,” I replied puzzled “why do you ask?”

  “Well what do you make of that then?” he said whilst motioning towards the north with a nod.

  Moving around the last of the rocks I came to stand in a position that enabled me to see what Baram was observing. Off in the distance, far to the north, a hundred glowing fires could be seen looking like some camping army, illuminating the night sky in an array of bright colours, they cut an arc of shimmering radiance into the darkness of the land some estimated ten miles distant from our current position.

  “That my friend,” I said as I placed my hand upon the fur-covered shoulder of the weaponsmith, “is where we will be heading tomorrow.”

  Baram sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  We broke camp early next morning and headed off in the direction of the previous night’s illuminations. “A land of flame,” Ackrulas had said, and the land certainly was aflame last night.

  As we made our way slowly across the desolate wilderness, I noticed that the morning air was not fresh but warm, and it was also becoming increasingly heavy with every hoof-trodden step. I also remembered finding it strange that the ground I slept upon the night before was warm to the touch, almost as if the land itself was being heated from w
ithin, and now something else carried forward on the breeze. A smell so bad, like so many rotting eggs drying in the sun, assaulted our noses and stifled the air about us.

  “This land is beginning to smell as bad as it looks!” complained Baram from somewhere behind me.

  We rode in for another two hours after that until we came across what I took to be a source of one of the lights we had seen.

  Not more than fifteen paces away was a large crater about eight feet across which was filled to its brim with hot bubbling fire that smelt terrible. We stopped our horses in line to take in the strange spectacle.

  “By Thundar’s hammer would you look at that,” said Baram whilst raising himself up atop of Anvil to better his view. “It looks hot enough to melt stone!”

  “The lifeblood of the earth,” said Jaramel admiringly.

  “You’re telling me that’s what the earth uses for blood?” asked Baram in disbelief.

  Jaramel nodded his answer.

  “Well I’ll be…” finished Baram, “I bet if I had one of those back in Ranak-Lore I would never have to heat a furnace again.”

  “You would not like one of those nearby you all the time,” added Jaramel disapprovingly.

  “Oh?” said Baram “you mean the smell. I suppose you’re right. Kendra would never allow me back in the house with clothes smelling like that.”

  Jaramel started shaking his head. “Apart from their stench master weaponsmith, they also have a tendency to spew forth fire and flame every so often.”

  “Oh…” with sudden realisation Baram kept a wary eye fixed on the pool of molten liquid in front of him.

  “Then let us not wait around to see what this one does,” I said with caution whilst urging Storm on.

  Soon more of the molten pools were visible to our eyes, and the further north we travelled, the more they were revealed to us. Before long they covered land like blisters upon the skin, each one of them a bubbling pond of malodorous death. But now something else started to appear. Growing in between most of the blazing craters on the blood soaked earth were the first plants I had seen in over a day. To be honest, they resembled small bushes rather than actual plants, as red as the earth they grew in, each one though was sufficiently fertile to be able to produce a multitude of large round black berries that grew on each of their branches.

  As I was eyeing one of the ripe looking fruits, considering whether or not it was edible, a sudden movement off to my right near another of the bushes quickly drew my eye in that direction. What I witnessed there I could scarcely believe. Raising my hand, I halted our column and pointed in the direction where I was looking in the hope for some verification to what I thought I was seeing.

  Standing not more than thirty paces away with its back currently towards us was what I could have only imagined to have been… a little demon. This strangely shaped creature, who was obviously oblivious to our presence, stood not more than three feet in height and had taut looking skin as black as midnight which glistened like sweat all over its near naked body. In fact, the only item of clothing I could see it was wearing was a small piece of brown leather cloth it had used to wrap around its midsection. Its head was bald, and no footwear could be seen covering its feet. Its hearing though, had seemed somewhat impaired, as it had not heard the approach of our horses.

  I turned to Baram who looked at me with a grin. I mimicked his facial expression before turning back to see the funny little creature bend down to place something in a woven basket that stood near its feet. To convince me further of my speculation that this was, in fact, one of the little demons that Ackrulas had mentioned were the two small protruding leathery wings I had seen on the creature’s back as it turned to bend.

  I watched transfixed by the little demon’s antics as time and time again it would stand in front of the bush, only to bend and place something into its basket. I then instantly realised what it was actually doing, it was of course harvesting the berries, and was that a tune I heard it humming?

  Without warning, Anvil snorted loudly. In the still air, it sounded more like a shout. The little creature instantly stopped what it was doing, and cocked its head to one side. It then began to turn around.

  In the open landscape and with nowhere to hide, we did the only thing we could have done, and that was to wait and see what it did next.

  What it did next was to actually look terrified before dropping the berry it had just picked in exchange for a small spear that had been lying hidden at its feet, it then took off in a sort of fast hopping run as quickly as its little legs could carry it!

  “Get it!” I shouted at once for fear of it raising some sort of alarm.

  Baram instantly galloped off to the left of a large crater in front of us upon hearing my command, Jaramel and I headed to its right in our own quick pursuit of our escaping foe. But luckily for us, the creature was not fleet of foot. The small wings on its back appeared to be non-functional in relation to flight, but it was using them instead to aid in its jumping runs. Fast it was not, but agile it was. Twice now when I had thought it was within my grasp, it had shown surprisingly agility and had changed its direction instantly. On one of these occasions when I had neared, I had been just about ready to strike it down by using my shield from behind, when it suddenly took me by surprise and ran straight between Storm’s legs in a successful attempt at evading its capture. However, the constant direction changes it was making had allowed Baram time enough to get ahead of the shiny little demon, and he was now approaching rapidly from the north. To make matters worse for our little friend, it had just run between two more of the infernal craters. With Baram to the north, and myself and Jaramel approaching rapidly from the south, it had nowhere to go. We had it trapped!

  The creature frantically turned its head in every direction looking for a way out of its predicament. When it saw that there was none to be found it gave up the chase, dropped its spear where it stood, and fell to the ground cowering before us.

  We quickly dismounted and encircled our foe, and as I moved towards it, I released the straps to my crossbow, just in case it should decide to flee again.

  Baram approached the thing hiding its face in the dirt and kicked away its spear that was no bigger than it was.

  “Well,” said Baram in question as he eyed the pitiful creature before him, “now we have him. What do you intend to do with him?”

  It was a valid question and one that I did not have an answer to. I shook my head whilst contemplating its fate. We could not let it go, it would certainly alert others of its kind to our presence, and we could not take it with us either, as the first chance it got it might try and escape, or worse, end up hurting one of us whilst trying to do so. The only other option I could think of was to kill it now and have done with it…but that seemed wrong somehow, even if it did look like something that was born from evil.

  “May I suggest something,” said Jaramel almost in relation to my thoughts.

  The creature risked a frightened look upwards at its captors. The thing had a slightly extended bump of a mouth, tiny ears, and small rounded black eyes looked worriedly to each of us. As its gaze fell over Jaramel, I almost let loose my crossbow when it unexpectedly leapt forwards to grovel at his feet. It then revealed a row of sharp pointy teeth as it began speaking a strange babbling tongue at our magic user.

  “I think it likes you,” I smiled to Jaramel as he tried to quickly free himself from the creatures embarrassing hold. It reacted to this by babbling more of the strange language at him.

  “Do you know what it’s trying to say?” I added hopefully.

  Jaramel shook his head as he unsuccessfully tried to push the frightened creature away.

  “I believe it is a language used from the dark plain, and one that I have no knowledge of.” Jaramel looked down at the thing clinging to his feet, “I presume it doesn’t want us to hurt it.”

  “I could have told you that myself,” I grinned sarcastically. Jaramel shot me a look. “You were about to sug
gest something else…were you not?”

  “Although I cannot directly communicate with it,” began Jaramel with a second reproachful glance aimed in my direction, “I believe I can use my magic effectively enough upon it, so it will trust us…. it's just that…”

  “Just what,” asked Baram a little confused?

  “Well…the magic I will be using is a minor form of a dark arts spell,” Jaramel looked again to the thing at his feet. “But it’s forbidden for me to use it.”

  Now I had heard everything. Here we were, stuck in an enemy land, surrounded by nothing but fiery craters, dust and rocks and with only a little demon for companionship, and here he was worried about getting into trouble…Wizards!

  “Well young master Jaramel,” I began as carefully as my temper allowed “I’m sure your master Luka wouldn’t mind just this once if you bent the rules a little.” I gazed at Baram knowing that he was always a willing participant in viewing more of Jaramel’s Magic, “and I believe I can speak for both myself and Baram when I say that we would not utter a word of this to anyone.” Baram vigorously nodded his head in agreement.

  Jaramel sighed. “Then I shall do what needs to be done.” By the Gods now we were making some progress, “but I shall report my own actions to master Luka upon our return,” added the mage sincerely.

  I nodded in understanding, but then wondered to myself if this young mage had ever done anything for fun in his whole life.

  Moments later and Jaramel had us holding the arms and legs of the struggling demon in restraint for the preparation of his spell. Jaramel then placed the clenched fist of his right hand into the flat palm of his left. Once he had done this, he simply placed them both onto the forehead of the unwilling demon whilst uttering a single unintelligible word.

  “You may release him now,” affirmed a slightly weary sounding Jaramel.

  That was it? No illuminations? No great long incantations? Even Baram was looking a little disappointed. But the struggling had stopped. We released our hold.