The Earthrin Stones 1 of 3: Inheritance of a Sword and a Path

by Douglas Van Dyke

  Cat moved up beside Mel and pointed down to the base of the rainbow. “Let’s go down there and see. It doesn’t look too far away, and it might be worth the detour.”

  Trestan and Petrow moved closer to the front of Dovewing as the gnome changed course. Both young men wanted to get a better look at the beauty of nature that lay before them. Salgor defiantly settled into the couch at the back, putting his arms together in a huff. The angle of the rainbow seemed to shift somewhat, but they could easily make out the valley that seemed to be its hold on the earth. The vessel flew in over some low ridges. When they got close enough, the rainbow itself could not really be seen unless they looked up towards the high arch.

  “Well, that is something.” Petrow pointed at a pasture below them. “You found a herd of wild horses, but nay unicorns.”

  Cat could see something that Petrow couldn’t. “They often look like ordinary horses at a casual glance, you have to look harder and really open your eyes. They are magical; hiding their true nature. Look with your heart open, and you will see them for what they truly are!”

  Mel leaned a bit over the figurehead to get a better look, and the gnome was smiling. Being of forest folk like Cat was, the two of them saw what the others did not. Petrow and Trestan stared at every movement of the herd below, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Salgor also came forward to scrutinize the view. The dwarf was very skeptical, but he examined the scene as intently as the two humans. Mel flew closer, as the wild herd ran below them through the flowery meadow. Suddenly, it was as if a curtain had been lifted in the minds of the humans and the dwarf. No longer did they mistake the creatures below for ordinary animals. Once the illusion was pierced, they honestly wondered how they could ever think that such fine creatures were horses.

  They had their first look at that legendary beautiful creature known as the unicorn. The run of the unicorn herd was almost mesmerizing, even enthralling. Few sights could have been any more magnificent. The unicorns themselves were trophies of beauty and grace, and the spring flowers and windswept waves of tall grass complemented their run.

  Unicorns were shorter than horses. While a horse often had muscle, a unicorn preferred grace, and light-footedness. Both horse and unicorn were built well for speed. While a horse might carry a charging knight, a unicorn was more likely to spring with superb agility to avoid enemies or attack from above. Horses may pack on muscle, but the unicorns were dexterous and preferred a certain grace of movement. While most unicorn coats are very pale in color, generally white, they still displayed a rainbow variety of colors on their manes and tails. Varying shades of yellow, pink, green, blue, red, and other mixes of colors were individually characteristic of each one. These same manes and tails were also long and curly, glistening like silk in the sunlight, bouncing and swaying gracefully along the wind as they ran. Each horn also bore its own distinctive mix of colors twisting up the lengths of the shaft. Some gave the distinctive impression of a rainbow twisted around and perched upright on the head of the unicorn. Seeing the colors highlighting the unicorns, it could only astound one to think that there must be a connection between the animal and rainbow. Most of a unicorn’s skin was a pale radiance shining very brightly in the reflected sunlight.

  The companions crowded the rails, looking in awe and wonder at the running herd below. The pasture rippled as rich and vibrant as the magical creatures themselves, with blooming plants and sweet fragrances of the wildflowers. The unicorns raced across the meadow, changing course several times to elude the strange vessel flying overhead. As Mel flew low enough, they could make out distinctive calls between the leaders of the herd. There had been songs composed referring to the language of the unicorns, and calling it the “whistle-song”. As the companions listened to the calls, it did indeed sound like a variety of whistles set in a musical tone. The noise was very different than anything a horse might utter. Unicorns voiced a distinctive variety of singing whistles to communicate. The herd leaders, always matriarchs, used the whistle-song to guide the rest of their followers in evading the path of Dovewing. The echoes of the song trilled and reverberated as it guided the direction of a hundred sets of unicorn hooves. The companions had a fine overhead view of the herd as it switched directions on the run, flowing one way then striking a new direction as the leaders whistled out directions. It was much akin to the way flocks of birds and schools of fish changed direction, seemingly on impulse, sending the whole group in a new direction as one.

  Trestan and Petrow were briefly shocked when a sound much like the whistle-song came from beside them. Cat had often heard and imitated the call of the unicorns in the woods. The half-elf tried her best to sing to them, her voice fluctuating to match the qualities of their song. To her pleasant surprise, a few unicorns whistled back. The companions wondered if any sound she made conveyed any message to the unicorns, but if it did they did not respond in any special way except to whistle back to her. The herd still continued to run and frolic in ways to try evading the flying vessel. Petrow decided to try his hand at calling out to the unicorns. He whistled out some notes, though he couldn’t quite seem to match the quality of the unicorns. Mel also started whistling, even as he tried to follow the herd on its constantly changing path. Before long, Trestan attempted to whistle a song as well. Sadly, the young smith could not even whistle a note, much less try to mimic the whistle-song of these magical creatures.

  Petrow laughed at the attempt, “I can’t believe you never got the hang of whistling, Tres. It’s really easy!”

  The young smith shook his head, “I try pursing the lips and blowing, but I can never make those sounds. Believe me, I wish very much that I could whistle, at least this one time!”

  “Would the choir please settle down and quiet themselves? For all you know that blasted racket will just scare them off o’ maybe incite them to attack a human settlement o’ such.” Salgor scowled at the others.

  The others scoffed or rolled their eyes at what they perceived as the dwarf’s normal irritability with things of a magical nature. They stopped their whistling without understand their companion’s real motivations. Salgor was actually quite pleased to see these magical creatures in motion, and for some reason their freedom and spirit brought a grin to his usually serious face. The dwarf was honestly just trying to listen to the unicorns’ whistle-song without distraction.

  Still observing the herd, the companions saw how the movement of unicorns differed from their larger and more mundane cousins, the horse. Unicorns were much lighter of foot. They simply did not thunder along the ground, as a herd of horses would do. These magical animals substituted the galloping pace with graceful leaps and bounds. They sailed through the air over obstacles more akin to the motions of a gazelle or deer. Cat remembered legends about graceful unicorn mounts carrying elf bowmen into battle. The stories were likely myth, but she remembered how it was told that the graceful jumps of the unicorns had kept the bowmen away from their enemies long enough to defeat their foes under the sting of arrows. Cat could imagine how elven riders would look on such fine mounts. Unicorns were very free-spirited creatures, however, and it would have been an odd situation for such creatures to even accept riders, much less carry them into battle.

  As Cat thought about it long enough, a song came to her head from the elvish home of her younger days. She sang, softly, and her companions listened.

  Manes will wave under windswept sky,

  Tails flowing behind as they prance on by,

  Gold, silver, red, green and lots of blue,

  The sun, on each, shines a different hue.

  Where the rainbow bonds with the ground,

  The unicorns will frolic round and round.

  After rains surrender to the brightening day,

  Where rainbow touches earth is where the unicorns play!

  The unicorn’s crown is a rainbow horn,

  The blessed birthright of each foal born,

  Tall, straight and proud stands the unicorn’s lance,r />
  And blessed is he to see it close by chance.

  Where rainbow bonds with the earth,

  The unicorns will be dancing in their mirth.

  After rains surrender to the brightening day,

  Where rainbow touches earth is where the unicorns play!

  An insult, it is, to compare to a horse,

  For these are magical beasts of course,

  Hear their whistle-song floating on the breeze,

  Soothing melody to put hard hearts at ease.

  Where the rainbow bonds with the ground,

  The unicorns will frolic round and round.

  After rains surrender to the brightening day,

  Where rainbow touches earth is where the unicorns play!

  There was a long quiet moment as the companions let the words of the song linger in their minds. The unicorns ran wild and free below them, still dodging the path of the vessel. Few individuals ever saw a herd of unicorns for so long, and overlook the herd from the sky. They were still in their peaceful contemplations when they realized that the herd was slowly getting away from their vessel. Dovewing flew a straight course, despite the unicorns changing direction again as they had been doing.

  Eager to swing about and watch the unicorns longer, Trestan called to their pilot. “Mel?”

  The gnome responded right next to him. “Aye?”

  Mel startled Trestan, as the human had been expecting the gnome to be further down the deck. The young smith snapped his head around to see that the gnome had leaned over to get a better view of the herd. The helmsman’s chair sat empty. Not too far ahead of them, a sloping hill capped with some high trees stood in their path. No one was at the controls!

  His voice almost a hoarse croak, Trestan stared into the gnome’s face with wide eyes, “Look out! Trees ahead!”

  Mel Bellringer whipped his head around to see that indeed they were on a collision course. With a wild yelp he scrambled back into the chair. Even as he moved, the deck started to slant sideways, slipping a bit towards the uneven terrain below. Mel didn’t have time to properly get into the seat before grabbing a control lever and pulling it back hard. Everyone hung on as the front of the craft lifted at a sharp angle to get them over the hill. Trestan held the bench with a death grip, eyes closed tightly as he feared the worst. He expected to feel the craft break apart as it hit something solid. Salgor was swearing again, but the words were taken by the wind.

  The sound of tree limbs and leaves brushing the underside of the craft preceded a cracking noise that jolted them slightly. Everyone held their breath as they expected another impact with a lot more force to it. Then the vessel leveled off, no longer climbing but heading forward again at a steady altitude. Cat whooped for joy at being alive, while the others finally remembered to breathe. They all climbed shakily back to their seats as they looked back at the ridge they had narrowly missed. Trestan and the others could see where one of the tall trees had snapped branches at the top. Leaves shaken loose from the collision floated downwards.

  Mel got back on top of his seat and made himself comfortable, though he dared not look behind him at the expressions of his companions. Sheepishly, he said, “I’m sure he won’t notice that. We scratched the bottom a bit, but he probably never looks under there anyways. No real mess there.”

  The gnome had barely finished speaking, when suddenly Salgor’s stomach rebelled against the continued treatment he’d had to endure flying in this magical contraption. The dwarf heaved a good portion of the previous night’s food and drink back up into the light of day. Needless to say, there were now a few extra stains to clean off of the ornate railing.

  * * * * *

  They turned Dovewing to pursue the unicorn herd again, but found themselves soaring over an empty pasture instead. Not a sign could be seen of the magical beasts. There were woods and narrow valleys below them enough to hide a herd of magical creatures. All of them were saddened that they could not have enjoyed the moment longer. Even after they had flown away, Salgor looked back with some longing at the pasture left behind, though he hid his disappointment from the others.

  They flew on to their more urgent destination. The day passed by slowly, while the land passed swiftly beneath them. Although the view was wonderful, the companions made attempts to catch up on the lack of sleep from the previous night. It wasn’t easy trying to sleep during the flight, but they were able to nap for small periods. Even Mel was able to rest his eyes, after giving Cat a quick lesson on the basics of steering and keeping a level altitude. The half-elf loved getting a chance at the controls, even if her biggest concern was keeping a steady flight while the gnome slept.

  Valley, river, hill and plains went past. Much of the exact terrain would be remembered only as a blur, but it was wonderful to experience at the time. Before the day was half done, they finally arrived along the shoreline. The continent of Quoros ended, and the Sea of Krakus stretched out before them. They did not fly straight out to sea, instead following the coastline southwards to try to find their way to the bluff where the battle had been. The weather became cloudy, but that did not hinder their flight. They recognized the bluff as soon as they saw it. The ground was scarred by black marks from the energies of the wand, and the camp stood in the same disarray as it had following the battle. Seeing it brought back memories of their struggle. It also reminded the companions of how desperately close they had come to dying in pursuit of these enemies.

  Mel circled the battlefield a few times, as the others looked on in quiet contemplation. Trestan moved his lips in some silent prayer. Petrow looked often at the area where he had fought the minotaur, as well as the blackened remains of the tent in which he had been held captive. Cat had her eyes closed part of the time, remembering more then observing. Salgor eventually withdrew his axe and began sharpening it again. The battleaxe didn’t really need it, but to the dwarf it was something to do. He clearly anticipated his next meeting with Revwar. Mel kept busy flying, though his thoughts strayed to the field below. Mel wore a frown, but then the gnome patted the wand on his belt, and brightened at the thought of how well it served him when he really needed the help. Petrow soon drew out the waraxe Hebden had crafted, and gave it a few sharpening strokes as well. Trestan watched Salgor and Petrow sharpen their axes, and decided to draw out his elvish blade.

  They bid their silent goodbyes to the bluff and the ghosts lingering there. Mel turned straight east, using a compass built into the back of the dove figurehead. Though the others on the craft had no idea what a compass was, Mel understood it and had been using it to help direct him. The bluff, and the land, drifted behind them, while the open sea lay ahead.

  Trestan Karok examined the runes of the elvish blade, just like he had several times already during the trip. He reflected how his life had changed in the last several days. He considered the differences in wielding the smith’s hammer, compared to wielding a sword. Hebden’s question of his interest in becoming a paladin had sparked thoughts on that subject. Although Trestan could not deny an interest, he didn’t know if it was a wise decision. A good portion of the young man wanted to go back home when this was done, swing the hammer again, and resume the only life he had known. Another part of him actually craved the excitement and wonder that the open road offered. He still prayed to Abriana often, and he felt that she guided him. He was unsure if he could follow that course from his livelihood and his home. He loved everything that Sir Wilhelm and his goddess stood for, but could he love that life enough to abandon his lifelong home?

  Dovewing flew out into the unknown, open sea…and home was left behind.

  * * * * *

  “I hope we spot something soon,” Petrow leaned over a front rail, observing the water below. “I don’t think any of us wish to be flying over this broad expanse of water after nightfall.”

  Salgor pointed to some dark clouds ahead, “It’s going to get darker sooner than expected. We are going to get wet flying through that mess.”

  The others
looked with concern at the storm clouds lurking directly in their path. Behind the flying vessel, the sun hid behind more clouds, making it harder to determine the time. Despite what loomed ahead in the sky, some hope was offered in the form of reefs spotted below. Coral and sand formed breakers in the frothing sea, though as yet they had not seen any islands.

  Trestan reminded them of that fact, “Pray that we are not far away. The sea is shallower here, just as the one-eyed man had said. Keep your eyes on the horizon. If the island and castle are large enough we might see them from some distance.”

  Mel piloted the craft even higher to get a better look at the surrounding area. This put them uncomfortably far up, but the companions did not protest. They flew along the lowest wisps of the clouds. All eyes searched for some sign of a large body of land, enough to accommodate a castle.

  “Down there!” Cat pointed excitedly.

  The others had trouble making out what her half-elven eyes had spotted, but they could barely see an area where waves seemed to break against a shoreline. Undoubtedly there was some sizeable landmass down there, surrounded by sharp coral reefs.

  Suddenly, a bright light momentarily blinded everyone. A loud clap of thunder reverberated against the deck barely a moment later. With the afterimage of a lightening bolt slowly fading from their eyes, they realized they were fast approaching the dark clouds. More of the same violent lightening and thunder erupted from the clouds ahead.

  “Mel!” Trestan ran forward, ducking beside the helmsman’s chair and holding the railing. “Take us down closer to the waterline! We don’t want to be flying this close to thunderclouds.”

  The gnome was already nodding his head and maneuvering the vessel downwards. Everyone else hunkered close to the deck as they also grabbed handholds. Mel turned the craft to make for the island. From here it looked small, barely visible except through brief flashes of the storm’s light. The clouds darkened their world. The first drops of rain splashed the deck as they descended. Storm winds started buffeting the vessel, though it held its course well. Fierce winds intensified the rain, sometimes whipping it in from the sides.