Pure Choice dm-6

by Jeff Inlo

  Sy agreed. He never intended on leaving Burbon.

  "No, I can't. I have to stay here. I have to reassess my strategies and make sure the town stays protected. If you want, I can offer you some soldiers to help with patrols and scouts."

  "Is Ryson available? I would like to bring him along. His delver senses would prove invaluable."

  Sy hesitated, unsure of exactly how to explain the situation with the delver. At first, he made a simple disclosure.

  "Actually, Ryson already left to investigate."

  "Ah, the delver and his curiosity, ever impatient, always so eager to find the answers. Well, if you have already sent him ahead, then there is no need for us to take your soldiers, better for them to stay here and help patrol the town."

  "I didn't send him ahead. He went on his own."

  Sy finally explained everything that had happened and revealed his decision regarding Ryson's services.

  "I'm not sure I made the right decision," the captain finally admitted. "I may regret it. He was right when he said he saved this town in the past, but that was then, and things keep changing. I'm just not sure if I can rely on him if he keeps wanting to set his own course."

  It was Jure that replied first.

  "That's a good way to put it," the wizard announced. "Any captain of a ship will tell you that too many hands on the wheel will only lead to disaster. A course has to be set and everyone has to keep that course in mind. Look, I know Ryson, I like him, but he has to respect your decisions."

  "I'm not sure if it's disrespect."

  "Don't get tied up over words. What I mean to say is that he has to appreciate your position. There has to be order, discipline."

  "Delvers are not very good with order and discipline," Sy allowed. "Maybe it's my fault for not utilizing him properly."

  "Or maybe it's his fault for not recognizing the situation. It's not an insult to Ryson. We all make mistakes. I've made them myself. There were times I thought I knew better and went off on my own. I thought my magic was enough to handle almost any situation, but that was an error in judgment on my part. I should have realized that I was part of something bigger, another soldier in the army. I forgot my place. In the larger picture, it was a mistake. I can offer suggestions, but I also have to follow orders."

  Sy chuckled to himself.

  "I have to admit, I like the way you think."

  "And you did what you had to do. If Ryson thinks about it, he'll realize that as well. If he can't follow your direction, he shouldn't expect to be in your service."

  The captain had to admit, the old wizard's words made him feel better, but he also looked to Holli, wondered what a disciplined elf guard thought.

  "What about you, Holli? Do you think I made the right decision?"

  "As an elf guard, I would focus on the good of my camp. If what you did was in the best interest of Burbon, then you have indeed done your duty."

  "There's more to it than that."

  "Is there?"

  "I think so. Maybe I didn't handle Ryson the right way, maybe I didn't work hard enough to make him understand. Maybe I was just being lazy."

  "You are many things, but lazy is not one of them."

  "Then maybe I was just too bullheaded to find a better solution. My point is that I cut Ryson loose. I keep thinking that's a mistake."

  "Are you arguing with yourself or me?"

  "I'm trying not to argue with anyone."

  "Then let me say this. I was approached by my camp elder. He told me that the direction of the camp was in jeopardy. He felt the elves needed one leader, the proper leader, but there were two legends in the camp that the elves looked upon with high regard, perhaps too high. I was one of those so-called legends. Despite my talents and my strengths, I was asked to leave. The elder understood all the implications. Without wishing to sound arrogant, he gave up a skilled and knowledgeable elf guard, but he did so for the greater good of the camp. That was all there was to it."

  "And you didn't feel betrayed?"

  "No."

  The answer was a bit too short, slightly too firm, but Sy didn't push for more.

  "Well, that's the situation," Sy said. "Ryson's already out there."

  "He knows the position of the camp," Holli acknowledged. "If there is something of significance out there, he has probably already found it. We should teleport there immediately."

  Jure nodded and revealed he had the energy to cast the spell without difficulty.

  Holli then addressed Burbon's captain.

  "I thank you for alerting me to this."

  "Hey, thank you for coming out here. You're helping me."

  "I will inform you of what we find."

  Chapter 8

  Ryson had visited the elf camp on previous occasions, and he knew exactly how to locate it again. He had set a direct path and initially intended on reaching the area before the sun rose. With his delver speed and senses, he could have avoided any dangers and reached his destination easily, but his considerations of the situation persuaded him to reduce his speed.

  The rain had ceased and the clouds passed to the east. Stars sparkled overhead, enough so that there was more than sufficient light for his delver eyes to penetrate the shadowed forest floor.

  While traveling through Dark Spruce, he wondered about the elves disposition, considered what might influence them to relocate their camp, for that was the explanation he believed most sound. If the elves were gone, as Okyiq claimed, there had to be an appropriate reason. Though it would delay him from reaching his ultimate goal, he slowed his pace as he examined the woods for clues.

  He looked for indications of natural disasters-floods, storms, fires-but found no signs of any such perils. He noticed an abundance of food throughout his travels, and discovered no imminent threat of dark creatures in the vicinity. If the elves did evacuate their settlement, he found no obvious explanation for such a move, but after reaching the borders of the camp, he soon feared for their very existence.

  It was well past dawn, when he finally approached the very edge of his objective. Before he entered the central encampment, he noticed the lack of sentries at the perimeter. The light of the rising sun was behind him, and he could see deep through the trees. He listened carefully for any signs of movements and sniffed the winds for traces of the elves. All of his senses revealed an empty forest.

  There were no elf guards stalking within the heavy branches overhead or patrolling the lower paths on the grounds leading to the elves' home. At the very outskirts of the elf settlement, Ryson took to the trees, climbed high into the branches, as would the elves, and circled the camp from a safe distance. He knew he should be spotted by sentries, but no guards were stationed to intercept him.

  The delver moved unimpeded from branch to branch without observing a single elf, even without detecting some curious distraction used by elf guards to lure delvers away. Ryson knew that elf guards would have either approached him directly to question his purpose-if they recognized him-or tried to entice him in another direction with some suspicious activity. They would have used his delver curiosity to protect their home and to avoid conflict, but he sensed nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that would draw his attention to another part of the forest. When he completed his initial scout, he knew without a doubt the region was unguarded.

  Staying within the trees, Ryson moved carefully toward the inner borders of the camp. The forest was still and quiet, and other than the insects, birds, and squirrels, empty of activity. He pulled out the spyscope from his pouch and surveyed the lands from the security of a large white pine.

  He began to suspect there was something more to Okyiq's claim. He understood the reason for the lack of patrols and sentries. There were no guards in the trees because there were no elves to protect. They were indeed absent, but traces of their existence lingered. The camp had not been moved, at least not in any manner that would make sense. Clear signs of the elves' inhabitance remained scattered about the forest floor.

&n
bsp; The elves did not live like humans. They did not build sturdy shelters or large storage facilities. They lived within the forest, taking full advantage of the natural shelter offered by the trees. Still, they utilized certain cover to protect their more delicate items, and these signs of the elf settlement were very conspicuous.

  Small tents and storage huts for food showed no signs of disturbance, other than goblin raiding. Woodpiles and the remnants of campfires littered the ground, even a few weapon stocks remained clearly in view, though most had also been picked through by thieving goblins. If the elves had abandoned the area, they certainly didn't take the time to pack their belongings or to erase the traces of their camp. Even the most novice human scout would have easily discovered the obvious remains.

  Knowing that elf guards would never allow for such carelessness unless it was unavoidable, Ryson leapt to the ground and stepped carefully forward for a closer inspection. He imagined that only a severe emergency would cause the elves to flee in such blatant disregard. But to add to the delver's confusion, the signs of reckless flight didn't exist, either.

  There was no indication of a violent attack, no blood on the ground, or spent arrows in the trees. While the campfires appeared abandoned, left to simply burn out over time, Ryson could find no other sign of panicked retreat. There were no broken branches or signs of a hasty escape into the brush. Goblins had scavenged much of the stocks, but nothing was in great disarray. The camp remained eerily intact. There simply were no elves in the area.

  Believing he faced no immediate danger himself, he turned a more deliberate eye to the signs he could discover. He found the recent tracks of the elves, both on the ground and in the trees, but these markings only created more questions. There were no signs of a struggle, but footprints simply disappeared. Nearly every recent path he could follow eventually just ended, stopped as if the elf that had made the tracks had been plucked from existence.

  Wondering if some elf might remain in hiding, he called out, but no one responded. The camp was silent, even the birds and crickets refused to reply. The hush that engulfed the immediate area brought an even greater sense of concern to the delver's spirit. He felt as if he was walking through a graveyard and the ghosts of long dead elves were watching him but unwilling to allow anyone, or anything, to answer. The silence was overwhelming.

  Closing his eyes, he tried to latch upon any sound at all. The only thing he could hear was the slight gurgling of a stream well off in the distance, but even that sounded… wrong. It sounded to him as if the slowly rushing waters were not really moving, but only bubbling in place. He listened for the birds and squirrels he heard before entering the camp, but even those chirps and whistles failed to reach him.

  It was when he took in a deep breath to check for any and all scents, both strange and ordinary, that he realized something was interfering with his senses. He caught the fragrance of the forest in his nostrils, but it smelled… manufactured. The tree bark, the leaves, the plants and ivy; everything that surrounded him should have offered its own unique scent. In one way, it was all there for him to recognize, but in another way, it was masked, covered by something that would conceal any scents out of the ordinary.

  Even more troubling, he could not detect the aging scent trail of a single goblin. He saw signs of their recent pilfering, but he could not find a meager trace of their scent. With that, he knew something was amiss.

  Realizing there was more going on around him than what he could see, hear and smell, Ryson grew even more cautious. Either there was something affecting his senses, or there was something very wrong with his surroundings. In either case, he realized that danger could be near, and one potent word came to his mind.

  Magic.

  It was the only possible explanation, but one that usually brought the delver great uncertainty. The energy always seemed to be just beyond his touch. As a delver, he journeyed through life based on what his keen senses could uncover. The magic, however, played by a strange set of rules.

  To make matters more complex, he came to understand that magic was a part of him, it made him a delver, enriched his abilities. At the same time, its essence eluded him. He did not actively engage the magic. It heightened his senses and augmented his physical talents naturally, without conscious decision. It became a part of him at birth, an energy constantly passed on from one generation of delvers to the next. He could not separate himself from the energy anymore than he could discard his skin.

  In the past, he had been uncertain, even afraid, of the power within him. It was a mystery he could not unravel, and for a delver, that was indeed a heavy burden. Just as a delver was born with magic, a delver's inherent mission was to seek out answers. To his discomfort, the magic was something he had to accept without exploration and discovery, without pulling aside the curtain and revealing the clear truth to a discerning eye, nose and ear.

  Alone in a deserted elf camp and facing a strange sensation of some forceful energy distorting his senses, Ryson realized his desire to unravel the mystery had led him into possible danger. His options of understanding the elf disappearance dwindled. He was not well-suited to battle magical spells, especially when he could not identify the source of deception. Unwilling to leave himself vulnerable, he raced back up a tree trunk and took a position high in the branches of a mighty oak.

  He bent low in the tree, keeping himself covered. He tried to reach beyond the screen of false sensations and take hold of something that might offer an explanation. Believing he might be blinded to the actual threats by some powerful spell, he hoped to elude the magic and grab onto just a shred of reality.

  To his growing dismay, he could not break through the magical cover that became more and more apparent to him. The enigmatic shadow that blocked his senses was like an extremely dense fog that hung just out of reach, a thick mist that could not be cleared by a wave of the hand. It blanketed the region with an unyielding heaviness. It provided a wall of concealment for the truth, and in that, Ryson grew apprehensive.

  Instinctively, he reached for the handle of the Sword of Decree. Before he pulled the blade from its sheath across his back, magic of a different source rushed into his consciousness.

  When the very elves he was searching for placed the blade into his possession, the enchantment of the sword expanded. In his hands, it began to offer opportune enlightenment to its holder, revealed what was necessary to be known at a specific moment in time. The sword didn't spell out the truth, didn't unravel every mystery, but it often gave direction, allowed its holder to understand the foundation of a mystery or a threat. It had saved Ryson's life, and it helped him save the land. On that day, it offered just enough knowledge for the delver to realize he was in no real danger.

  Ryson knew the elves had indeed disappeared, but he also knew that the current magical disturbance that interfered with his senses was not responsible for the abduction. The answer to the elf disappearance would have to wait, for the sword's enchantment focused on his current dilemma.

  "Are you going to show yourself," Ryson called out, "or are you going to keep hiding?"

  Without waiting for an answer, Ryson removed his hand from the sword's hilt and leapt down from the tree. He stepped into a clearing at the center of the deserted camp, folded his arms in front of him and waited patiently.

  After several long moments of silence, the delver called out again.

  "We're not enemies, and I don't intend on treating you like one, but I need to know what happened here."

  It was then the swallit appeared.

  "Good day to you Ryson Acumen. Do you remember me?"

  Ryson Acumen and that particular swallit had met before, also in Dark Spruce. The delver recognized the dark creature, not by its scent, but by the tone of its voice.

  "Yes, I do. Want to tell me why you tried to cover everything up with those illusion spells of yours?"

  "I see no harm in explaining," the swallit replied casually. Its large buffalo shaped head swung back and for
th as it sniffed the air. The stringy, dark green vines that made up the bulk of its hide swayed gently with the movement. It appeared quite pleased with what it could smell, or rather with what it couldn't. "Effective spells. Even I can't detect a natural scent, and I cast it."

  "That means it works, that doesn't tell me why you cast it."

  "I suppose being a delver makes you impatient for answers, I can understand that."

  The swallit stood upright and it slowly stepped across the camp using only its hind legs to walk. It suddenly looked more human than buffalo as its front legs became more like arms. It studied the ground in all directions.

  "Tell me first, can you see these fresh tracks that I make?"

  Ryson looked down where the swallit had walked. There was not a single hoof print to be seen, despite the fact the swallit had stepped heavily through soft dirt.

  "I don't see anything," the delver replied honestly, then looked back up into the dark creature's eyes, "so your illusions covered your tracks. Seems they still are."

  "Does that give you an idea of why I cast the spell?"

  "I can only guess, and since you're here, I'd rather not. Why don't you just tell me?"

  "Come now. Humor me. Use those delver instincts of yours and tell me what you think."

  "I think you're avoiding the question."

  The swallit grunted heavily and glared at the delver. The creature grew annoyed, but not to the point of charging the delver in fury, as swallits are known to do. Instead, it made a threat it clearly intended on carrying out if the delver did not cooperate.

  "Would you rather I just leave and tell you nothing? I do not have to explain anything to you. I owe you nothing."

  "No, I don't want you to leave, but I'm trying to find out what happened to the elves and I don't want to play any games," Ryson shot back, growing somewhat frustrated himself.

  "I assure you, my spells had nothing to do with the elves disappearance. In fact, I had nothing to do with it at all. It happened well before I arrived here. That's one of the reasons I cast the spells. Does that help you?"