Everflame

by Peters, Dylan

  “My name is Evercloud and I am from the Kingdom on Gray Mountain.”

  “You think this is funny, don’t you?” The short man was beginning to become irritated. He stepped forward into the dim candlelight and Evercloud could now see the large knife that he held in his hand. “This is not a game.”

  Evercloud was now beginning to get frightened. He again placed his hand upon the claw concealed in his trousers and prepared himself for what he might have to do.

  “Please,” he said. “I’m not lying. I swear it. I come from the Kingdom on Gray Mountain.”

  “There is no Kingdom on Gray Mountain!” yelled the short man.

  “There is!” pleaded Evercloud. “The Kingdom of Bears.”

  “You come from a kingdom of bears?” chuckled the tall man as he turned to the short man. “Maybe this one is a drunkard.”

  “I’m not drunk!” yelled Evercloud. “I was abandoned in the forests around Gray Mountain when I was a small child. The bears took me in and raised me as their own. I am now on a quest to find the Ancients and stop the Great Tyrant.”

  The short man paused and looked at Evercloud with a genuine curiosity. “Where did you learn of the Ancients and the Great Tyrant?”

  “My family told me of them, just recently.”

  “So, when you say your family, you mean bears?”

  “Yes,” said Evercloud defiantly. “They are my family.”

  The short man shook his head and turned to the tall man who shrugged.

  “Okay,” said the short man. “You say that your uncle and cousin, who are bears, are on this quest with you. Then where are they?”

  “They are waiting for me outside of the village.”

  “If that is true,” said the tall man. “Then you will take us to them.”

  • • •

  Twenty armored men walked out of the village of Hendrick, holding wooden shields on one arm and spears in the other. They marched two by two as their leader called out cadence, as if they had been trained to put on a show rather than to fight. Whiteclaw and Riverpaw lay low to the ground behind a group of trees as the officers walked past.

  “You remember the plan?”

  “Yes, father.”

  “We are only trying to keep them occupied. Do not kill unless it is completely necessary. Do you understand me?” Riverpaw did not answer. “Riverpaw, do you understand me?”

  “Yes, father.”

  “All right, on my mark, make the first pass.”

  Whiteclaw lifted his arm and Riverpaw prepared himself to run, waiting for the signal. He could feel his muscles tense in his anger. He could not so easily forget what men had done to his father. He was reminded every time that he looked at his face. The anger boiled inside of him and fueled him with adrenaline and determination. He clenched his jaw and waited.

  Whiteclaw dropped his paw to the ground and Riverpaw was off. He circled behind the group of men and then came at them where they were blind. With all of their calls and clinking armor, the officers never heard the bear coming. Riverpaw barreled into the group, knocking six of them to the ground. Hearing the commotion, the rest of the group spun around to find Riverpaw having already retreated to a safe distance.

  Just then, a booming roar came from the other direction. The officers turned back around to find that Whiteclaw had cut their path off to the north at about fifty yards in front of them. They were caught in between the bears.

  The men formed a tight circle and raised their shields and spears.

  “All right, men,” yelled a large man with a twitching mustache. “Grip your spears tight and prepare to defend yourselves.”

  Whiteclaw let out another roar and the bears began to circle the men, moving counter clockwise, keeping their distance.

  “Hold tight, men!” yelled the mustache. “They are preparing to charge.”

  But they were not. They continued to circle the men, and every once in a while, Whiteclaw would roar and the bears would rest, holding their positions. Whiteclaw would roar again and the bears would begin to circle the men, moving in the other direction. Things continued in this way for a couple of hours and then, one of the officers spoke up.

  “Sir, I don’t believe that the bears are going to charge.”

  The twitching mustache rolled his eyes. “Good work, officer. Your powers of observation are an unbelievable asset.”

  “What should we do now, sir?”

  “Do nothing. Allow them to make the first move. We have the advantage. They will most likely run away after a time.”

  “What if they are waiting for other bears, sir?”

  The twitching mustache hadn’t thought of that. Was that possible? Could bears be that intelligent? The odds, right now, were well in his favor, ten men to each bear. But with each new bear that might show up, their odds would plummet drastically. Could they afford to wait around? He would have to make the first move.

  “All right, men! Stay close to each other and begin moving slowly back toward the village. Stay on guard!”

  Whiteclaw saw the men moving and knew that it was time for phase two. He reared up on his hind legs and roared into the air twice. Riverpaw took the cue and he and Whiteclaw ran from their positions back to the trees.

  “Hold formation and move slowly!” cried the mustache. “They may return.”

  And return they did. The bears came running with a felled tree, balanced on the back of their necks. They stopped almost ten yards from the men and dropped the tree. Then, lifting it together, they reared on their hind legs and heaved the tree at the men. The men did not know how to react and the tree struck them, knocking them to the ground. Before they could react, the bears were upon them. Not attacking the men, but attacking their weapons. Not an entire minute had passed and every spear that the men had carried lay shattered on the ground. Twenty men stood, huddled behind their shields, confused and afraid, as two large bears barred their way back to the village.

  The men looked out at the bears that stood roughly twenty yards from them, wondering what this meant. Why were they not being attacked? One of the men whispered to the twitching mustache that was now twitching most nervously.

  “What is happening?”

  The mustache shook his head; beady eyes darting from one bear to the other. “I don’t know. Just give me some time.”

  Time was exactly what the bears wanted and it continued to pass as the two groups stood in standoff. The sun crept across the sky and was now beginning to turn a vibrant orange as it headed for the horizon. We’ve almost finished, thought Whiteclaw. This was easy.

  But the twitching mustache had been thinking and as he watched the sun begin to set, a panic had come over him. These were not normal bears. Maybe they weren’t bears at all. Maybe they were witches, disguised as bears. What did they want? Why had they destroyed their weapons but not killed them? The sun is setting and soon it will be dark. Maybe they are waiting for the dark?

  The twitching mustache couldn’t take it any longer. He picked up a broken spear and screamed, charging the bears with it in his hand. His men looked on in horror as the mustache got closer to the bears. Like a flash of lightning, Riverpaw knocked the man to the ground, pinning him under his giant paw.

  “Riverpaw. It is time. Let us go,” said Whiteclaw, but Riverpaw did not respond. He lowered his head to the twitching mustache and gnashed his teeth. The man cried out, terrified. “Riverpaw!” yelled Whiteclaw.

  “Why is the bear talking?” whimpered the mustache, talking to himself.

  Riverpaw removed his paw with one final snarl and ran off to his father. The bears ran south along the stream, leaving the men alive but shaken. Having to wonder, for the rest of their lives, what in the world had happened to them.

  “I thought you were going to kill that man,” said Whiteclaw as he and Riverpaw ran south.

  “I refuse to become the monster that they think I am.”

  Whiteclaw grinned. “You’re going to be a fine bear, Riverpaw.”


  The Family Floyd

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said the tall man as he and the short man stood with Evercloud by the stream, watching two large bears come lumbering toward them.

  “Put the knife on him,” whispered the short man to the tall man.

  The tall man grabbed Evercloud and held the knife to his throat. “You make the bears play nice and we’ll play nice, got it?”

  Whiteclaw and Riverpaw stopped just a few yards short of Evercloud and the men. They saw the knife, up to Evercloud’s throat, and they both began to growl.

  “It’s okay,” said Evercloud to the bears. “They just want to be sure that they can trust you. Speak to them.” Whiteclaw shook his head very slightly at Evercloud, not wanting to give away that bears could speak or even understand speech. “Really, it’s okay. They helped me in the village. They’re just protecting themselves.”

  “Take the knife away from his throat or I’ll crush your heads,” said Riverpaw to the men.

  Whiteclaw spun on his son. “What are you doing?”

  For a moment, everything was silent. The two men were wide-eyed in amazement. Then they began to whisper to each other.

  “The bears are talking, right?”

  “Yes, the bears are talking.”

  “They’re going to kill us.”

  “Say something to them, would you.”

  “Um,” started the tall man. “We mean you no harm…nor your friend here. Um…are we correct in assuming that you are friends to those who search for the Ancients and reject the Great Tyrant?”

  This time Whiteclaw spoke, however reluctantly. “I don’t know. Are we correct in assuming that you will not do anything that will force us to kill you?”

  The short man came up behind the tall man and whispered into his ear. “Tell him yes.”

  The tall man spoke: “Yes.”

  “Then, yes,” said Whiteclaw.

  “So what do we do now?” asked the tall man, obviously unsettled by the events that were taking place.

  “Well, first,” said Whiteclaw. “I suggest that you remove the knife from Evercloud’s neck and tell us who you are.”

  The tall man looked over at the knife he was holding to Evercloud’s neck and this seemed to bring him back to his senses. “Oh, sorry,” he said, lowering the knife. “We trust you’ll understand that was just a precaution. Never really intended to…er…my name is Ben Floyd, and this,” as he pointed to the short man, “is my brother, Tomas. Our family has been worshipping the Ancients for generations and has always harbored the belief that they have not left us. We have made it our mission to do what we can to find them.”

  “So that’s why you helped me in the tavern,” said Evercloud.

  “Yes,” said Tomas. “And we apologize for not believing your story, Evercloud, but you have to understand that we must be very careful. It is not safe to worship the Ancients in the world in which we live.”

  Evercloud nodded and then Whiteclaw began to speak. “I am Whiteclaw and this is my son, Riverpaw. We come from the Kingdom on Gray Mountain and we, along with Evercloud, have also accepted a mission to find the Ancients, if indeed they still exist.”

  “Oh, they exist,” chimed Tomas.

  “We have heard only rumors,” said Whiteclaw. “Do you have any proof or do you speak from belief?”

  “Well,” said Ben, “I think it would be best if you followed us to our home. There is much we can explain.”

  “We appreciate the invitation, Ben Floyd, but my son and I can not just walk into a village of men.”

  “Oh, we don’t live in the village,” said Tomas.

  “Please,” beckoned Ben, “follow me.”

  Ben and Tomas crossed the stream and began to lead the travelers into the dense forest that loomed on the other side. The sun was still up, but it would only be so for a little while longer. As it was already, the forest shut out most of the sun’s light and made it very difficult to see.

  “We should be there before the light is completely gone,” Ben assured them.

  “Evercloud,” said Whiteclaw, “were you able to purchase the salve that I had asked for?”

  Evercloud sighed and slumped his shoulders. “I’m sorry. That should have been the first thing I did.”

  “Don’t worry,” piped in Tomas, “we have all kinds of medicines back at home and you’re welcome to them.”

  “Thank you,” said Whiteclaw. Then, turning to Evercloud. “You still have all of the currency that I gave to you?”

  “Well, not all of it.”

  “Evercloud, I told you to only purchase the salve.”

  “Yes, but you also told me to go to the tavern.”

  “And what did you purchase at the tavern?”

  “A mug of ale.”

  “A mug of ale? Seriously, Evercloud?”

  “Uncle, would you trust someone who entered a tavern, all alone, and didn’t purchase a mug of ale?”

  “Hmm,” Whiteclaw pursed his lips. “I suppose you have a valid point.”

  “We’re here,” said Ben.

  The party had reached the entrance to a cave and a faint light could be seen coming from inside. The entrance was not especially big, at least compared to the caves that Evercloud and the bears were used to.

  “We’d better go inside first, so that father and sister aren’t scared,” said Tomas, and the brothers Floyd disappeared into the cave, reappearing only minutes later.

  “Welcome to our home,” said Ben, arms outstretched in welcome. The travelers entered the cave.

  The cave was much larger on the inside with a roomy common area and many rooms adjacent to it. There was a fire going directly in the middle of the common area and a large boiling pot sat upon it. The smell that came from it set Evercloud’s mouth watering. He couldn’t remember having eaten anything that day. Large colorful carpets adorned the floor of the cave and scrolls and maps hung on the walls. The bears were fairly impressed.

  “I suppose I’ll do the introductions. This is Evercloud, Whiteclaw and Riverpaw,” said Tomas, pointing to each of them in turn. The three travelers made their greetings politely. “And this is my father, Nikolas.”

  “Very nice to meet you,” said the old man. He had lost the majority of his hair and it seemed as though a fair amount of his sight had abandoned him as well. When the man looked at the travelers, it seemed as if he were staring straight through them. “Bears that speak. Well, I never.”

  “And this,” continued Tomas, “is our sister, Iolana.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you,” said Iolana and she bowed slightly. Evercloud could not take his eyes off of her. He had never seen a woman like her before. She was rather small and slender with long red hair that fell in curls around her shoulders. Her skin was so pale that it almost seemed luminescent and her blue eyes sparkled like a river in the moonlight. She smiled at him and he felt as if he might fall down. He put his hand out against the side of Riverpaw to steady himself.

  “Are you all right?” asked Riverpaw.

  “I’m really well. How are you?” said Evercloud.

  Riverpaw wrinkled his nose and looked at Evercloud as if he were the strangest thing he had ever seen.

  “Well,” began Nikolas, “dinner is almost ready and then we can get to know each other a little better. The stew probably won’t be enough for the two of you.” The man gestured toward the bears. “But I have a couple of boars that were going to be for tomorrow. I’ll think they’ll do nicely.”

  “That would be most appreciated, thank you,” nodded Whiteclaw.

  “Whiteclaw,” said Tomas, “if you would follow me, I can help you dress that wound.” Whiteclaw again nodded and followed Tomas into an adjacent room.

  When Whiteclaw and Tomas returned, everyone was finding a seat on a rug so that they could eat comfortably. Tomas had not only dressed Whiteclaw’s wound but also found a thick leather strap that fit nicely around the bear’s head, in order to provide some protection. Evercloud thought it lo
oked funny at first, though he never would have said so, but after a few minutes it took on more of an intimidating effect. Whiteclaw looked like a warrior and in a strange way, Evercloud found himself moderately jealous.

  Over dinner, Evercloud told the Floyds of how his father, Eveneye, had found him when he was very little, and then, of how he had become king. The family found the story very interesting. They seemed to want to know every detail of the Kingdom and how it operated. Evercloud was more than pleased to have an audience. He continued his story all the way up to their departure.

  “So every bear in the Kingdom can speak?” asked Nikolas.

  “All animals can speak if they wish you to hear them,” said Evercloud.

  “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised,” Nikolas shook his head. “Why would the Ancients create creatures who can not speak when they themselves have the ability to do so?”

  “I agree with your statement, Old One,” said Whiteclaw, swallowing a chunk of boar. “But for the sake of argument, how do we know that the Ancients could speak?”

  “It is a good question,” nodded Nikolas. “However, there are references in The Book of The Holy that suggest that they did.”

  “The Book of The Holy?” asked Evercloud.

  “Yes, The Book of The Holy. It’s the Tyrant’s own account of how he came to power, mixed in with his teachings and codes and what not. Most men hold onto it as if it were the air they breathe. Rubbish, I say. Lies and propaganda. The Tyrant used this book to convince the human race that it was he who created the world, and that the Ancients were evil creatures intent upon destroying it.”

  “But you just said that this book is filled with lies and propaganda,” said Evercloud. “How can we assume that any of it is true?”

  “Your logic is sound, my boy. But all lies have some truth. I have my own reasons for belief.”

  “Would anyone like more?” asked Iolana, standing to her feet with a smile. Her voice ran through Evercloud’s mind like a song. He found himself repeating her name in his head. Iolana. Iolana.