“Just as well, the village has it’s fill of honor from Corbin.” He giggled aloud. Not that his little brother’s good nature was a bad thing, quite the opposite, it was just that sometimes he could be a little blind in his willingness to “do the right thing.” And that had always irked Logan.
Ahead the channel split into four sections, one was too tiny for him to get in so he did not bother considering it, but the other three were regular size, so he pulled the lodestone out and let it dangle again. It circled slowly in the air before leaning in the direction of north, pointing him toward the path to his right.
As Logan made his way deeper into the new corridor, the walls really pressed in. There was only about enough room left to raise his arms slightly, but ahead the tunnel pinched to a narrow gap. Logan stopped to ponder his insanity at going any further; surely, he should backtrack the way he came and start over? But it was as if his body had a mind of its own, side stepping through the tight opening, as he squirmed ahead one slow step at a time, his cheek rubbing against the jagged stone wall. Panic gripped the deeper he went, his legs becoming wobbly until he was only able to barely inch along, forcing himself to keep moving out of the fear that should he stop he would never have the courage to go again. Visions of his childhood gripped him, remembering the time he was stuck on the highest branch of a ract tree, unable to come down until his father climbed up and got him.
Logan whispered to himself, “Just keep on moving, don’t think about the walls, just keep pushing forward,” as the tunnel floor gradually became soft, like the fur rug in front of Morgana’s fireplace. The feel of it settled his nerves a bit, taking the tension out of his legs, so he could shuffle along at a steady pace again. Soon the walls sloped outward, opening back up into a regular sized tunnel, the ceiling was still low enough to touch, but that sure as hell did not bother him anymore. The walls of this tunnel were covered with an interesting layer of light purple moss that drifted to a dull gray carpet over the floor of the passageway.
Logan was never one to resist his own curiosity, so he tentatively touched some of the furry stuff with the tip of his index finger. The moss was soft like velvet and let off an aroma similar to the lavender Miss Iva grew in her garden. The scent of it lingered intoxicatingly over his hand and the wall sparkled where his finger had been. A circle of shimmering light worked its way from the spot, like the ripple of a pond, across the wall and spreading down the tunnel. One of the ripples hit a bump and split off into another and then another, radiating all the way down the corridor in shimmering luminescent circles. They were even on the ceiling and the walls, delightfully dancing in concentric patterns all around him!
The beauty of it all put Logan at ease with the world. He felt gleeful to walk along paths such as these. There was so much happiness to be found in life that he had never imagined before. Smiling, he playfully flicked the purple moss, as he worked his way through the tunnel merrily whistling, and thinking how much he looked forward to telling Bipp about this wonderful place. Life was so awe-inspiring and blessed, how could anyone’s heart not be filled with love after seeing the beauty of Vanidriell? He wondered why he had ever been miserable in Riverbell, as it was probably the most perfect place to live in all of New Fal.
Even as Logan lay down to take a nap in the cozy, soft, loving embrace of the poisonous moss, and the reality that the bumps on the floor were actually the decomposed carcasses of other creatures that had made the same mistake of wandering into this tunnel, and even after he realized he would surely die here in the plant’s dangerous trap of spores, even then… Logan Walker could still not help but smile and snuggle in for his nap.
Since Corbin left the cannibals’ campsite, his brother’s trail became simple to follow again. His companion gnome was not especially the sneakiest of individuals, based on the sloppy trail he left in his wake. Again, he could see that neither of the men were even mildly concerned with covering their tracks. And why should they be, how could they possibly imagine they were being tracked? The sheer indifference Logan possessed filled Corbin with a wave of anger.
It was not long before he came across the corpse of the slain sauria lizard and the towering pile of rubble beside it. Corbin was trying to determine what kind of creature stuck out from under part of the rock. “It looks like someone has cut a section of a leg off?” He thought as he rubbed fingers across the dried wound, and then smelled the tips determining it was a pig. The scene around him did not make much sense, it seemed there was a battle, the dead sauria was a clear testament to that, but how had these boulders buried a pig which looked freshly killed, and what was a hog doing in these tunnels beyond the forest anyhow? Corbin decided none of this mattered, picking back up on the gnome’s trail. The only thing that did matter was finding Logan as soon as possible. Every day he journeyed took him further from New Fal, and more importantly Elise.
“Corbin. Behind you.” A gentle voice whispered, tickling the hairs of his neck.
Turning around he was surprised to see a man, who had certainly not been there before, standing beside the pile of rubble. He was older than most people Corbin had met, with wrinkles lining his face that somehow revealed an underlying wisdom and a caring nature. A big bushy white beard hung from his face reaching all the way down to the midsection of his long white robes, which swayed back and forth, even though no wind existed in this part of the tunnels. The stranger leaned forward on a tall knotty oak staff and stared deep into Corbin’s soul with twinkling silver eyes and a familiar smile. Corbin knew he should be on his guard, but something about the figure stopped him from brandishing his weapon.
“Who are you?” he tentatively asked.
“You know who I am, Corbin Walker.” The stranger confidently replied.
He did know, it made no sense, but he knew nonetheless that this was the god of his people. He was staring at the corporeal form of Baetylus himself! Immediately Corbin fell to the ground in an act of worship, groveling in front of his great master.
“Rise, my son.” He kindly commanded, this time out loud, drifting across the dirt to tower over Corbin, and gently motioning for him to stand up. Rising he could see the figure was an elaborate apparition, faintly translucent, revealing the rocky wall through the visage. When it moved, Baetylus blinked in and out of the air slightly.
“Great All-Father, how is this possible?” he wondered in awe.
“Anything I wish is possible.” Baetylus stated, an edge of annoyance lingering from the boy’s question.
“Surely, I meant no disrespect toward you, oh Magnificent One.” He groveled again.
“The gift you now possess allows me to speak directly to you. It is a rare thing for man to be bestowed such wonders. I have decided to directly help you bring Logan back to New Fal, lest many people will die in the kingdom of man due to the careless actions of one.” Baetylus said.
“As has been explained All-Father, but why do you come to me in this form?” Corbin asked.
“When last we spoke it caused your mortal shell great pain. This was not my wish; your human body is frail indeed, so I come to you in a way that is easier for your simple mind to comprehend.” Baetylus explained, not meaning to insult the mortal, but speaking matter of fact.
“How truly blessed and honored I am Great One.” He thanked his god for the gift.
“I will not be with you long, for your mind cannot handle it, perhaps in time, but not quite yet. Follow me, my son.” The visage drifted back to the rocky wall of tumbled boulders and pointed at its center. “Your brother is here.”
Baetylus noticed the agonized look of pain that washed over his servant and corrected. “Not under the stones, my son, past them.” He explained, pushing his arm into the barrier.
Corbin gave a massive sigh of relief, feeling unworthy to communicate with his Lord after such a misunderstanding.
“Move the boulders out of the path and I will show you the way.” Baetylus ordered.
Corbin set his
voulge down and began trying to pry a massive rock from the wall.
“Not like that… Use your mind.” Baetylus stopped him.
“Uhhh... what?” he did not know what the statement meant.
“Move the rubble out of your way with your mind.” Baetylus instructed, as if it were common sense.
“Great Lord, please forgive me. I am but your ignorant servant. How would I move these mighty boulders just by thinking of it?” he begged for understanding.
“Fall into yourself, and find the channel of power that tunes you to the universe.” The god began walking him through the process. Hands resting to his sides, Corbin closed his eyes and did as he was instructed. After long minutes, focusing deeply on the inhale and exhale of the air around him, he felt a tingling sensation, as he filled to teeming with the psionic energy emanating from his form.
“Good, you are a natural. Now let the power flow into your soul.” Baetylus calmly encouraged him.
Corbin opened a hole in the fabric of his mind, letting the energy funnel inside, slowly building up in intensity. It was like filling a barrel with rainwater, except instead of rain there was a living river of thought, filling fuller and fuller until his head felt ready to explode.
“Now release the pent up psionic energy against the barrier of rocks.” Baetylus commanded.
Corbin could not stem the flow flooding into him, building up to a breaking point against his psyche. He scrambled futilely against the current that overwhelmed his will, desperately clambering for the energy to stop flowing and released it in a panic.
Shards of light spit forth from the center of Corbin’s forehead, exploding in the air just before his face. The rock wall was completely unfazed, while he on the other hand flew backward through the air, propelled by the sheer force of released pent up energy, landing squarely atop the dead sauria. The tunnel walls were spinning as he sat up, trying to catch his breath and Baetylus’ visage watched by the rocks, wearing a look that was either of amusement or annoyance, although he guessed it was a little of each.
“Perhaps we should have you just climb over them instead.” Baetylus offered.
“Agreed.” He replied, rubbing his arm where it had hit the rough scales of the sauria’s back.
Producing a grappling hook, Corbin swung the rope around in a circle, throwing it up and over the top of the rockslide, before pulling to catch a firm hold. Testing the grip with his weight, he decided it was safe and carefully scaled the barrier. Baetylus suddenly appeared next to him, flickering in and out of existence higher and higher up the face of the rockslide, each time leaving a feint blue glow to mark where he had been.
“Follow my path to make it over more quickly.” The god ordered. Corbin altered his ascent as instructed, finding the All-Father’s path much easier to traverse, quickly making his way over the other side.
“I must leave you now my son.” Baetylus regretted he could not stay.
“Please All-Father stay with me… guide me just a little while longer.” He whined for the god not to leave him alone in these caves, longing to remain in his glory.
“It cannot be done without damaging your mind. Fear not, my child for I will light the way for you. Once you see the black gap, wet some cloth and wrap your face to stay safe, if you do not heed these words, it will be the end of your journey on this plane.” He promised.
“I will Great Baetylus, thank you for your wisdom!” Corbin replied.
The white bearded visage faded, revealing a blank stone wall behind it. It was easy for Corbin to make his way through the winding tunnels, at every intersection Baetylus had left a feint glow on the ground to mark the way, speeding his progress considerably. Corbin did not even bother slowing his pace, blindly running down the paths marked by the All-Father. Soon enough the tunnels squeezed in, getting tighter and tighter, to reveal the dark gap ahead. Pulling out a spare tunic, Corbin drenched it with the water from his flask, wrapping it around his face in a knot as was warned. Only his eyes remained uncovered as he slipped through the opening and into the purple moss covered area. He recognized this plant, it was called the Morpheus Embrace and was known to release a poisonous spore that would make one delirious and knock the unsuspecting victim out.
The tunnel was virtually lined with the nasty stuff, which was pretty enough, but deadly to be around. The poisonous moss would intoxicate the unsuspecting victim into an induced state of delirium, with a strong desire to rest, except once asleep they would never awaken, starving to death, and decomposing to feed the vile spreading plant. Looking around he could see a multitude of dead animals that had walked into the trap, only stripped carcasses remaining as bumps along the tunnel floor covered with a blanket of the stuff.
Suddenly Corbin’s heart leapt with joy, spying his brother asleep around the bend, he was cozied up to the carpet of moss, like a babe resting in his mother’s arms. Logan was a lot heavier than when they were kids, but he could still carry him. With a grunt, Corbin tossed him over his shoulder and pushed himself upright. He felt such a wave of relief that Logan had been found. Now all of the misunderstandings could be set right, Arch Councilor Zacharia would see Logan’s truth, and Riverbell would be safe once more.
Chapter 16
“Riverbell will burn to the ground.” Fafnir cruelly promised through the thick iron bars of her cell. Lady Cassandra had underestimated the man’s reach, and his audacity. When soldiers stormed her house, she had demanded to know the meaning of their intrusion, only to be met with shackles. Somehow, the greedy little weasel had learned of her gift to Corbin Walker; he must have spies in her own house.
“The council will never approve such a thing, Fafnir. You have really crossed the line this time. There is no way the rest of the Elders will tolerate you locking a widow of the twelve in your filthy little dungeon.” She admonished his claim.
“As if you matter to them, silly old witch. I am the law, and you have violated the words of our beloved council.” Fafnir cackled, shrugging off her empty threats.
“You know very well...” Cassandra began.
“Tut, tut.” He cut her off, with a whack of his cane against the bars. “Save your drivel for the council, the law is the law, magical practice is forbidden.” He said, referring to the ritual she had performed on Corbin Walker, which was forbidden over a century and a half ago. Magic was no longer to be practiced, although many of the Falians still did, and was never to be taught to the younglings. Only the original eighty, of which a mere handful remained, could still grasp the possibilities the universe had to offer. It was deemed that the naïve younger Falians could bring danger to their sanctuary of New Fal if they were to delve into the magical arts.
“Don’t lecture me about the laws my own husband helped write, you impertinent, hypocritical fool. Who in the blazes does not use a little magic in their life?” Cassandra snapped back at him.
“Ah, that may be true, but none of us would go so far as to invoke the power and produce an apprentice.” He rubbed his pointer fingers together mocking her. “Naughty naughty...”
“I swear on the seven you will never get away with this!” Cassandra slammed the bars in frustration.
The gate opened, with a rusty groan, into the single celled room. Magistrate Fafnir cordially bowed, like a sniveling rat, to the new arrival. Elder Viktor came into Cassandra’s view, stopping in front of her cell.
“Thank goodness you are here Viktor, this scoundrel thinks he can win a seat by throwing his competition in a cell!” she said with conviction, though she was secretly truly relieved to see her husband’s longtime friend come to rescue her.
The man pulled Fafnir in closer to him, huddled in whispers she could barely make out, before turning to face her. “Shut your mouth witch, how dare you presume to utter my name. That is Elder Viktor to you.” He sneered in a way she had never seen before. How could he be speaking to her this way, after all the years of friendship shared between their families, after all the hard
ship they endured together molding New Fal into a thriving human civilization?
“Fafnir, is their some more bloody witchcraft afoot here? Do my eyes deceive me, or has the righteous old bat finally found herself at a loss for words?” Viktor taunted, egging the crooked man on.
“I do believe you are correct, most esteemed one.” Fafnir bowed in agreement.
“This must be some mean spirited joke Viktor, surely this cannot be real?” Cassandra gasped, in a state of shock.
“Again she does it, that is Elder Viktor you imbecile. All these years having to listen to your fool of a husband preaching and preaching to us. Now that I’m finally rid of the self-righteous, sanctimonious bastard did you really think I would want to hear his echoes from your mouth in the council of twelve day in and day out?” he asked her, not expecting an answer, but cruelly enjoying the look on her face.
Cassandra felt the world closing in around her. How had she missed this man’s hatred for her all these years? He stood at her wedding, he was there from the time their children were baptized in the light, to the time they were given funeral rights. To think all these years he hated Alan, it was something she could not find the ability to comprehend, it pulled the strength from her legs, bringing her to feebly walk backward and sit on her musty cot, all the while staring back at him in disbelief.
“Arch Councilor Zacharia will never let this happen to me.” She stammered weakly.
Viktor laughed, as if she had told the funniest joke, slapping Fafnir’s arm to see if he heard the same, who leaned in with his sinister grin cutting the shadows. “The Arch Councilor will obey the law, he will see the truth. You know it and you will not see an inch of mercy from the man.” Fafnir promised.
“By this time next week you’ll be hanging out there in the square.” Elder Viktor taunted her some more.
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