Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal

by Jason L Crocker

  Two or three times I swung my blade wildly at any shadow I saw fit, and two or three times I cut nothing but air.

  “Mr Stein, No!” Jaramel’s desperate plea called out from beside the fire where I had left him. I turned sharply confused by his cry and was in time to see the mage hoisted into the air by some unseen thing, in the next moment he was dragged back into the darkness and disappeared from view.

  “JARAMEL!” I had covered the distance it took to reach the place where the mage had vanished in seconds, but I was too late, there was no sign of him.

  With Baram down and Jaramel gone, my turn would inevitably follow.

  Grasping the hilt of my sword firmly, I moved closer to the fire’s light. If I was going to die here, I may at least have the opportunity of seeing what form my death would take.

  As a frightening array of sounds closed in on my position, I thought it strange that the last thought to go through my head before I heard a heavy footstep of doom from behind, was one of my horse!

  I spun violently upon my attacker in the hope of catching it by surprise, but then stayed my attack at the last moment when I saw what awaited me.

  There, standing as clear as day, and barely a stride away, was one of the largest, armour-wearing, grim looking, eight feet tall Galvians that I have ever seen!

  I hardly noticed the war-hammer in his hands, until it had connected with my sword, the impact sent me forcibly stumbling to one side. It was at times like these I wished I had my shield on my arm, and twenty other companions by my side, but my buckler lay secured to my saddle, and I stood alone.

  Regaining my balance, and some of my composure, I once again faced my opponent as several other large shadows gathered in the darkness behind the immense Galvian’s frame.

  I could not understand this. These Galvians were supposed to be our friends, weren’t they? But here they were attacking us…

  The Galvian looked on perplexed, obviously troubled by my lack of aggression, but nevertheless advanced slowly towards me. If I did not think of something fast, then I was going to end up resembling an Edis cake on Harvest day… flat and squashed!

  Taking the only option which came to mind, I threw my sword to the ground and bowed down on one knee. Then, as the heavily armoured giant towered above me, with war-hammer poised ready to strike, I looked him straight in the eye, as best I could, and yelled aloud the only Galvian word that I could remember.

  “YATARIS!” it meant friend, or at least I hoped it did, as I now recall there was a similar word which meant dog!

  The Galvian froze and glared at me strangely, but he did lower his weapon slightly, which I took for a good thing. I adjusted my footing upon the ground, ready to leap backwards at a moment’s notice, just in case.

  The reaction I read upon his grey tinted face was one of uncertainty, and as he began to raise the instrument of my demise yet again, I felt the need to convince him further.

  “YATARIS! YATARIS!” I cried aloud whilst thumping my hand against my chest, just to make sure he knew whom I meant.

  It is a well-known fact that not all Galvians speak the human tongue, but it looked as if this one did not speak the Galvian tongue either! Maybe I was calling him a dog after all?

  Then suddenly out of the blackness of the night came the instantly recognisable voice of Jaramel, but he was not speaking in the human tongue. Instead, it was the totally unintelligible language of the Galvians! He continued to speak in Galvian words for some moments and then used his magic to bathe the entire area in a light that emanated from several small fires which hovered just above the ground. I knew the mage had provided these, as it is also a well-known fact that Galvians do not practice in the magical arts.

  These new lights now exposed seven more equally imposing Galvian warriors to my eyes. But that did not include an eighth that remained frozen, and unmoving near to Jaramel’s side.

  “Jaramel,” I called out hesitantly, my eyes still on the Goliath before me.

  “Yes, Mr Stein?”

  “It may be a good idea if you are trying to convince these Galvians that we are their friends, to release one of their number from your hold, wouldn’t you say?”

  Jaramel turned to look at the frozen statue beside him, and then waved a hand in the air before the grey giant’s limbs became free from the spell.

  With his movement restored, the Galvian warrior shot Jaramel a hateful look before joining his companions who had assembled in conversation, presumably to discuss our fate.

  I took the opportunity to gather what was left of my dignity, and my sword, before going to Baram’s side.

  Kneeling over the unfortunate soul, I checked for blood, and signs of a life-beat as Jaramel joined me by his side.

  “How is he?”

  “Hard to tell,” I answered in return whilst peeling back one of the big man's eyelids and viewing the vacant look that lay beneath, “he is out cold, but apart from a large bump on the head, he seems fine. Lucky for him it appears that the Galvian that did this hit him with nothing more than his fists.”

  Jaramel nodded in understanding, then reached for one of the many small pouches that hung from his belt.

  “I have something here that may help him,” stated the mage, and proceeded to place two small pinches of a fine powdery substance under each of Baram’s flaring nostrils.

  Baram immediately sat bolt upright with a start, eyes wide open! But as his face contorted with pain, his hands went to his head as if to keep it in its place, I had to wonder how long it would be before he had to lie back down again!

  “Urggh! What happened,” complained the weaponsmith, “it feels as if I was kicked by a mule!”

  “Huh! You should be so lucky,” I jested as I jerked a thumb over my shoulder,” …Galvians”

  “GALVIANS!” bellowed Baram in astonishment, his head moving painfully to better his view. “But aren’t they supposed to be on our side?”

  “I think that is what they are trying to discuss.” I returned my gaze to Jaramel. Hopefully, the mage had been listening to what was being said.

  “Well, what’s the good news?” I asked.

  Jaramel turned his head until I could see the burning flames within. “From what I can hear,” he began, “the Galvian on the left believes us to be northern spies and wants to kill us where we stand. However, the Galvian on the right thinks they should take us to their leader. Thankfully for us, it seems the Galvian on the right is of a higher rank.”

  “You speak Galvian master Jaramel!” asked Baram surprised.

  Jaramel nodded an answer. “About three years ago when the King was first thinking about a wall around the City, he sent envoys to the Galvians asking for their help. None other than their leader, a Galvian named Crowmach answered the summons. The meeting between the Crowmach and the King went so well that afterwards, they started implementing other ideas that would further unite the bonds between them. One of the resolutions to come from this was that since Crowmach could already speak in the human tongue, it was decided that a human envoy should learn to speak the Galvian one. The King gave this task to master Luka, and since I am his apprentice, it was also required of me to learn the Galvian language as well.”

  “You’re full of surprises master Jaramel,” announced Baram, “now before my arse goes as numb as my head, you two had better give me a hand, and help me to my feet!”

  After helping Baram to rise, I turned to find that the Galvians had silently approached to stand behind us. For such large individuals, they could certainly move quietly and quickly when they wished. One of the warriors took a single step towards me, which was more of a stride by my own reckoning. Strapped on plated armour adorned the warrior’s legs, which matched in colour the huge, dark purple breastplate that fitted around the massive Galvian’s torso. No protection was worn on the arms, probably to allow the ease of movement when using their chosen weapons. Under the Galvian’s armour was some sort of padded cloth that was not leather. The material more resembled fine w
oven wool and was black in colour to match the night. I noticed that no designs or symbols adorned any of the warriors, and none of the Galvians sought the need to wear helmets of any description. Probably because they thought nobody could reach that high anyway!

  The Galvian in front of me rested his eight-foot spear to one side. The bladed tip alone was as long as my arm, it looked like a lance!

  “You will come with us,” commanded the Galvian in a voice as deep as the earth, but non-threatening in its manner, “and be blindfolded for the journey ahead, as our paths must remain secret to your kind.”

  Anything was better than ending up resembling an Edis cake, I thought.

  “But understand this,” added the Galvian in a more disconcerting tone, “If you attempt to remove your blindfolds before our journeys end…we will have no choice but to kill you.”

  I nodded solemnly to show that I fully understood the serious terms surrounding the Galvian’s words. A ripping noise then broke the silence as another of the Galvians began busily tearing a padded cloth into strips.

  “What of our horses?” I asked hopefully, thinking alone of the prized possessions that we had fought so hard to obtain, and just how far should our trust of these Galvians extend.

  The grey colossus looked across to our steeds before lowering his gaze to mine once again.

  “You may ride your horses if you wish. Although they will be led, and of course you shall have to give up your weapons.” I showed my agreement with a small a nod before three shadowing Galvians led each of us to our waiting rides.

  With a brief look to my comrades, I pulled myself astride Storm and placed my feet in the stirrups. No sooner had I done this when the Galvian at my side with whom I was now level, placed a padded black cloth tightly around my eyes to make my world go even darker than it already was.

  As the Galvians guided Storm to a start, I found it quite refreshing that for now at least, I did not have to make any life or death decisions regarding our fate. Now that the responsibility for our welfare had been taken out of my hands, I just had to simply hold on, sit back, and let the dice fall where they may.

  Chapter Eighteen:

  We travelled for many hours under the Galvian’s guidance, mostly to the north, and mostly over rocky ground. Shortly after departing from our campsite we had exchanged our flat travelling ground for one with steep inclines.

  Upwards and upwards we had then journeyed until it felt like we were ascending to the very peaks of the Talon mountains themselves! On several occasions, I had heard the nearby clatter of loose stones tumbling down what sounded like a very severe drop! It was times like these when I was thankful for the blindfold. I had never been overly confident with heights, and I suspected we were on the top of a particularly precarious one now!

  Nevertheless, I did find it soothing when the sun’s warmth had risen to caress my face, and for a brief time only, I had seen light through my cloth-covered world. But even this small comfort was robbed from me when our alleged allies suddenly changed direction and headed into the earth!

  Tunnels! I knew the feeling well. Even if my eyes were blind to the world around me, my nose was not. It seemed to me that if I was not spending my time in the forests and Cities of this world, then I was spending it in tunnels and caves of one description or another. Half my work would have me exploring a cavern, or go traversing along a subterranean passageway to achieve my aims. But I did not mind, I felt quite at home within tunnels, even after my experience with the Gloadonos.

  We travelled under the ground for many more hours; along routes that twisted and turned so many times that I lost all sense of direction. Then just as I convinced myself that our journey was never going to end, one of the Galvians spoke a single word that brought an abrupt end to our trek.

  As our horses came to a standstill, I heard the muffled voices of other Galvians talking from somewhere close by.

  “From here we walk,” boomed a familiar voice in my ear. Strong hands then grabbed me around my waist and lifted me clean from my saddle with worrying ease.

  “Your blindfolds remain on,” cautioned the voice again as a hand as big as a bear's paw rested upon my shoulder with the intent of guiding me gently forwards.

  “Please…” It was Jaramel, and he had spoken from somewhere in front of me. Up until now, I had not been sure whether I had been separated from my companions or not. “The items in our saddlebags must not be touched,” warned the mage, “any attempt to do so could end in dire circumstances for those who see fit to do otherwise.”

  A few seconds of silence followed before more Galvian words were spoken and our horses were led away to my right.

  “Your items are secure,” promised a voice.

  “Our thanks,” replied the unseen apprentice.

  As we moved forwards once again, the sounds of Galvian chatter increased in volume and clarity. Although I still did not have a clue as to what was being discussed, it did sound as if many voices were speaking at once.

  After only ten or so steps were taken we stopped again. I waited patiently in my own personal darkness and listened intently to the sounds of large bolts being slid back from their holdings; this was followed almost immediately by a creaking noise that one would associate with the opening of a large door. My senses were then assaulted bathed by light, warmth, and a variety of sounds and smells.

  I found it strange as I was guided into the source of warming light that such a glare could exist in such a place. I was almost certain we were still deep underground, but what light that filtered through my blindfold must have mirrored the luminosity of an afternoon’s sun.

  Now came the feeling of being very disorientated and confused, I was hardly ready for the change in the ground that occurred under foot as well! Where we had recently been walking on soil, our strides now took us over smoother, flatter footing, like the flagstones to be found in a castle’s courtyard, only easier to walk upon.

  The tread underfoot was not the only thing to have altered. Like so many fire bees abandoning a hive, the voices I had heard now hushed in their united gabble, until only a few murmured whispers and surprised gasps lingered at our passing.

  Onwards we then moved, more quickly now that our footing had improved, either this or it was for an urgency I could not see. Furthermore, I had the suspicion that we were now passing through a large open area, like a town square, or maybe even a street. I certainly felt the presence of many other beings around me, and the sounds of far off noises gave warrant to the size of the place.

  More clues to where we walked then presented themselves, as smells of meats, herbs, and other pungent odours wafted towards me on…a breeze. It was good to know at least that these Galvians actually did eat food, and not consume rocks, and stones, which many children’s stories would have you believe.

  Twice more we stopped, and twice more we were manoeuvred into new positions by Galvian hands before continuing on in our mysterious hike.

  Eventually, after walking what felt like the entire length of the continent, we passed through yet another set of doors and stopped hopefully for the last time!

  A voice then thankfully confirmed my thoughts.” You may now remove your blindfolds,” it assured.

  Without waiting to be told again, I had moved my hand to my face and freed my eyes from their impediment. A hazy white world instantly rushed in to replace my darkened one.

  “Wait here,” commanded a blurry shape before it moved through what looked to be the northern wall! I rubbed my eyes to clear my sight and saw in fact that the three of us now stood in an unusual, circular room, which had little more than two long curved stone benches positioned around its perimeter.

  The reasons the room looked strange to my eyes were threefold. To begin with, the curved walls of the room were the colour of moonlight, and smooth like a riverbed’s pebble. This design was also reflected on the floor, the ground was as glass, but no stones had been laid to construct it, and I spied no gaps in its creation either. These
Galvians certainly had different methods of building than us.

  Ignoring my companions for now, I walked with some curiosity over to one of the sources of light. Two half-bowl shaped containers were fixed on the curve of the walls at head height, and each of the containers was emitting a light brighter than the day.

  With my curiosity at its peak, I raised myself up on my toes and peered with some bewilderment into the bowl… it was filled almost to the brim with silvery, shimmering water that glowed brightly!

  It was evident at first glance that this was no ordinary water. It looked as if these Galvians had managed to steal the reflection of a full moon in a calm lake at midnight, and then imprison it into one of these containers!

  Raising my hand to the bowl, I inquisitively dipped the tip of one finger carefully into the substance. It felt cool to the touch, but upon withdrawing my finger, I was surprised to see it glowing with its own radiance, like white fire!

  “Moonglow is its common name,” informed Jaramel as he saw my interest in the bowl. Baram had taken to sitting on the stone seating and was currently rubbing his head. “It’s extracted from a root that only grows very deep underground, it is extremely hard to acquire, but when you do, the liquid sap in the bulb can produce this light… once you have set fire to it of course.”

  “It seems these Galvians do not share your troubles acquiring it,” I added.

  “Yes, it would…Oh, I see you have placed your finger into the Moonglow,” said Jaramel with concern.

  “Yes! What of it?” I asked uneasily, as I pictured the slow death that awaited me.

  “Moonglow is quite safe,” assured Jaramel, “but it is a very potent source of lighting. I am afraid that your finger will continue to glow like that for some time.”

  I looked at my illuminated appendage in a new light…literally.

  “How long for?” I asked, awaiting the good news.

  “It depends on when the Moonglow was last touched by fire,” answered Jaramel with just a hint of amusement.