"Is there something I can help you with?" Gen asked the bird when he had gotten closer to it. The bird looked back at Gen and nodded again after which it took flight, following a small side path to the right. Gen shrugged and followed the bird. He was in a very odd mood and decided to humor the crow. He didn't have to walk far before he came upon a small clearing. The crow was waiting for him on a branch to his left. A man lay face down in the center of the clearing. He wore what once must have been white robes with dark green along the sleeves and hood, but now they were ripped and stained with grass and blood. Gen approached the body cautiously. He could see that the man was still breathing, though very faintly.
"Are you alive?" Gen called out. He got no response in return. Walking closer, he crouched down and gently turned the man over. The man looked horrible. His face was swollen and covered with cuts and bruises. The front of his robes were stained red with blood where apparently he had been stabbed repeatedly. Gen examined the body closer and discovered that the man's hands were severely scarred and maimed. Memories came flooding back to him all at once.
"Thomas!" Gen exclaimed. He spared no time after that and began chanting a powerful healing spell. All the plants in a twenty yard radius from Gen turned brown, withered, and fell into dust as Gen chanted. The bruises and some of the cuts on Thomas' face healed quickly and his breathing grew in depth and strength. Gen picked him up and walked back to the path. He chanted a short spell and Thomas grew light as a feather in his arms. He carried him for the next few hours as he walked.
Eventually, Thomas opened his eyes. They were still the same brown as they had always been but they were now a bit glazed and unfocused. He lifted his head up and slowly focused on Gen. He stared at him for a while then his mind seemed to finally grasp his situation. He jerked back and leaped out of Gen's arms. He stood for a moment then began to sway. He reached his arm out, and placing his hand against a tree, supported himself upon it.
"Who are you? Where are the students? What's going on here?" Thomas demanded of the man standing before him.
"First you should sit down. You are still very weak," Gen said and he chanted a short spell. The tree Thomas was leaning on slowly moved its branches to make a type of seat right behind Thomas. "Sit, please. You've lost a lot of blood."
Thomas looked back at the modified tree and started to refuse but then his vision blurred slightly and began to grow dark around the edges. He knew he should sit down. He sat and relaxed a bit back into the living seat. The tree adjusted itself slightly to make itself more comfortable. "Now tell me who you are," he demanded, his voice carrying command even though he knew his body was too weak and broken to do any threatening.
"May I sit as well?" Gen asked as he fought a smile. It had been so long since Thomas had seen him that he didn't recognize his childhood friend. He didn't blame Thomas, he barely recognized himself anymore when he looked in a mirror.
Thomas nodded slightly and Gen snapped his fingers. The tree beside him copied what its neighbor had done seconds ago. Gen sat back and patted the limb of the tree. It seemed to shudder a bit at his touch but didn't retract its limbs.
"Now, no more delays, talk. Who are you and where are the students?" Thomas asked again forcefully. Who was this man dressed in robes as black as the void? He seemed somehow familiar, but Thomas knew no mage that wore robes of solid black.
"You know me, my dear Thomas, but your students? I know nothing of them. I came across you in a clearing. A crow asked me to help you. I imagine he knows you?" Gen said lightly as he crossed his legs. He wished he had a table and some hot tea. He had been walking a long time, and though he didn't grow tired nor did he suffer from hunger or thirst, a cup of hot tea seemed to be just the thing to have.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but I'm afraid I do not know you. The students were running with me from the soldiers. I sent them on through the woods while I stayed behind to slow the soldiers to help them escape. It all seems a bit fuzzy after that though. I can't remember what happened. You say Norton asked you to help me? Where is that silly bird now then?" Thomas looked around for the crow but didn't find him in the nearby branches. His head still felt like it was underwater, but it was slowly clearing up. Only now, a great headache was creeping in. He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his temples.
"I saw no students in the clearing, only you laying face down near to death. I healed you up some and have been carrying you for a few hours since then. I hoped to reach the Schola soon where I may find a healer with more skill. What soldiers were after you?" Gen asked. It was kind of fun not telling Thomas who he was. He wondered how long it would take his old friend to figure out who he was.
"The soldiers were Eremian." He spit on the ground after he said it. "Those monsters have taken over this island. We had hoped that the Schola would be left alone and for a while it was. Though a few weeks ago, we had started to be harassed by some of the soldiers. The students and I were out collecting herbs when this group of them came along and drew steel on us. I didn't want to get the students involved so we ran. I pray they made it back to the Schola safely." Thomas' head now felt like it was being attacked by dwarven smiths, hitting him with hammers over and over. It was hard to think.
"Can you walk now or should I carry you again? We should go to the Schola as quickly as we can," Gen said as he got up. The tree to his side moved its limbs back to normal once more.
"I will try to walk. I would just float along but my head hurts so bad I don't think I can cast even that simple spell." He rose shakily to his feet and took a step. He took another step then started to fall. The tree beside him, that had been moving back to normal, quickly caught him and gently supported him. "Thank you," Thomas said to the tree and patted its branch. A small branch came around and patted him back on the head softly. When Thomas was standing again, the tree stuck out a forked limb. The leaves on the limb fell off and then a four foot section of it fell off to the ground. Another limb picked up the broken piece and held it out to Thomas. Thomas took the limb and placed it under his arm like a crutch. “Thank you again for your sacrifice." Thomas said and patted the tree again. The tree rustled its branches a bit then stood still once more.
"Your soul must be as pure of blackness as those robes you wear once were. It's not often I see a tree be so giving."
Thomas smiled a bit and nodded. He used the crutch and slowly began walking down the path. Gen pulled the cane out of his sash and leaned upon it to walk slowly beside Thomas. His friend looked pretty bad. The wounds he had would heal, but his eyes held pain that wouldn't heal as quickly. What had happened to Thomas in the time that he was gone? They walked on, side by side for a while, in silence till Gen finally spoke up.
"How long has it been, Thomas? Five years? Seven?" Gen asked as he looked at his old friend.
Thomas looked back at Gen and studied his face deeply. Suddenly his eyes grew wide and his jaw hung open. "Gen? Is that you? I thought you were dead long ago. We didn't hear from you after.... after you left." He fell abruptly silent.
"Yes Thomas, it's me. I've been a bit busy, but let's not talk about me. How have you been? Did ya miss me?" Gen asked with a smile and a wink.
"A bit busy! It's been seven years Gen! Why didn't you write or send some kind of message?"
"Well I haven't really had the time. Well I take that back. I had the time but I never thought to write, or maybe I thought it would be best if you mistook me as being dead. I'm not really sure why I didn't write, but I'm home now. So we can talk all you want." Gen smiled. It felt just like old times. The things he had done, the dark path he walked, the seemingly endless line of people's faces he had killed, they were all pushed aside.
Thomas stopped walking and suddenly reached out and hugged his long lost friend. Gen returned the hug only lightly, still aware of Thomas' recent wounds. Thomas drew back and held him at arms length. "I've missed you horribly. Thank the good gods that you have come back when you did. We need you badly. The soldiers are horrible. They wil
l destroy the Schola soon, I fear, and kill the children as well." Thomas looked him up and down. He studied him closely for the first time. Gen's face looked almost a death's head and held a few scars. He was little more than bones and lean muscle. His ice blue eyes were still clear and piercing but there were dark circles under them. His forehead was wrinkled slightly from carrying a deep frown for too long. His robes were totally black. The bottoms of them ripped and shredded, though clean and stain free. He looked at the cane Gen walked with and recognized the old sword for what it was. The scabbard held a bit less luster and it was marred here and there with a scratch or two but still looked in good shape. "What happened to you?"
"We're not talking about me, remember? What have you been up to these past seven years?" Gen returned with a coy grin.
"Evasive as ever, my friend. Oh it's good to see you again. Let's continue on our way. I'll talk as we walk. Perhaps it will help keep this pounding in my head at bay." Thomas released his friend and limped along once more, leaning heavily upon his crutch. "After you left, things returned almost to normal. Aaron didn't return." At this, he spit on the ground again. "At least not till much later. I poured myself into my studies to escape the loss of you and..." He grew quiet again. "After a few years, I found myself teaching at our beloved Schola. The Headmaster said that I didn't need to wear the journeyman's robes and so I became Master Thomas." He said that last bit with a small laugh. "I teach the children herbology and spells in that field. Oh! That spell you cast on the tree. Where did you learn that? I've never seen one that acted in that way. I know ones to force the tree into shape but never one that asked it to willingly do a task." He looked to Gen eagerly.
Gen laughed at that. "I learned a few things on my travels. I'll teach you some things when there is time, Master Thomas," Gen said with a small giggle.
Thomas laughed. "And what should I call you now? Master Gen perhaps?"
Gen's smile faded a bit and his expression grew a bit somber. "Just call me Gen. I would prefer that over any actual title I hold." His voice was quiet and Thomas could feel an odd sadness with his words. He decided not to press the matter, at least not yet.
"Okay then, Gen, oh servant to the great Master Thomas. What brings you back to this tiny speck of an island?"
Gen was silent for a long while and Thomas began to feel a bit nervous. Finally he spoke. "I've come to bring her back." Thomas opened his mouth to say something but Gen raised his hand quickly to stop him. "Not now please. I'll explain more later. Look, we're almost there," he said as he pointed ahead. Thomas stared at his old friend for a while longer, his mind full of questions. Where had he been for so long? What did he mean bring her back? He looked ahead and saw the Schola coming into view around the corner of the path. They walked a bit farther and reached the edge of the woods. They stood and looked across the clearing to the gates of the Schola. The sight was not pleasant. A troupe of soldiers was standing before the gate. There were tents set up in the clearing, and it looked as if they weren't planning on leaving anytime soon. Thomas looked to Gen. Gen stood silently. Slowly his face set into a grim expression and his left hand made a fist. "Wait here. I'll ask them to let us pass." He said suddenly and before Thomas could say anything in return. Gen began to walk towards the soldiers. He didn't limp or lean upon his cane. He walked boldly and steadily straight down the path to the soldiers. It didn't take long for them to notice him and soon five of them drew together and walked out to meet him. They came together halfway between the woods and the Schola.
"Who are you? What business do you have here?" the soldier in the middle asked. He was a young officer. His Eremian armor was polished to a mirror finish and he stood proudly in the way.
"My name is not important. My business is to take my injured friend to his home so he may be healed and rest," Gen stated as he motioned behind him to where Thomas was standing.
"None may enter or leave this Schola by orders of the general." the soldier stated in return.
"You won't reconsider? My friend is badly hurt and I will not allow him to die out here," Gen returned.
"I am sorry but you must take your friend somewhere else. I haven't seen you around here so I must also inform you that the use of magic by all, save the glorious priests of Invictus, has been pronounced illegal on this island. I see you wear the robes of one who practices in that art. I ask you to go peacefully and find aid elsewhere for your friend." The young officer bowed his head slightly and made as if to walk back to his camp.
"Thank you for informing me of the new laws of this area. I know you must perform your duty but I must do as I've said. I fear I will have to break your laws and even kill your men if you do not let me through." Gen's eyes were filled with a sadness that seemed eternal in its depths but they also held conviction. The officer could see that he wasn't bluffing.
"I will go and ask my commander if you may be allowed to pass. Please wait here with these men. I will return shortly." With that, he turned and walked quickly back to the camp. Gen waited calmly and watched as the young officer disappeared into the large tent off to the right of the path before the gates of the Schola. The four soldiers standing before him seemed nervous. They stood firm but Gen could tell that they had never seen battle. The one to his far left was shaking slightly.
"How long have your men been stationed here?" Gen asked the soldier to his right.
"Three days, Sir," the soldier returned quickly.
"Are you planning on raiding the Schola or doing any other harmful things to the people within its walls?"
"We have orders only to stay here and let no one in or out, Sir," the soldier replied. The soldier to Gen's far left was shaking visibly now. Gen could hear his armor rattling slightly.
"How long has the law against the use of magic been in effect?"
"A year, Sir."
Gen saw the officer emerge from the commander's tent and come walking quickly back to him. When he reached them, he was breathing a bit heavily and his face was flushed a light pink.
"I apologize. My commander has told me that we cannot allow you to pass. He has also told me I am to take you and your friend captive for questioning. Please come with us peacefully and we will not chain you."
"Will you treat my friend's wounds as best you can?"
"His injuries will be treated. You have my word."
"Very well. I must also speak to your commander. I have a complaint to put before him." Gen motioned over his shoulder for Thomas to come to him. Thomas walked slowly and painfully to where the group waited.
"We have been asked to stay with the soldiers in the encampment. They will treat your wounds, on the word of this young officer here. I will talk to the commander and see if I can convince him to let us into the Schola. Will you agree to come along?"
Thomas looked at Gen questioningly for a long moment then nodded. The officer turned and walked back to the encampment, one of his soldiers on either side of Gen and Thomas and two behind them. Gen helped Thomas to walk till they got inside the area of tents.
"Please help him," Gen asked the officer. The officer barked orders and the two soldiers walked forward and helped Thomas into the tent on the left, directly across from the commander's tent.
"May I have a word with you, Sir?" Gen asked the officer. The officer nodded and waited. Gen waited till the other two soldiers started to walk off and then said.
"That man there, the one on the left. You should watch him. He was filled with so much fear that his judgment was beginning to leave while you were gone. Now may I speak to the commander?"
The officer nodded and led the way into the tent. Before he entered, he turned to face Gen. "This isn't going to end well. I have that feeling. I ask only that you try and be merciful upon my men. They are all new to war and mostly a good lot. I would hate to see them killed." He paused for a moment then added, "I know who you are. I saw you from a distance in the war of Artoria. Though we were enemies, I just wanted you to know that you were a fearsome and noble
opponent." With that, the officer bowed low before Gen then turned sharply and entered the tent. Gen followed. The commander's tent was quite large. A table was in the middle covered with a map of the Schola and surrounding woods. Gen noticed that the map was quite accurate. Two empty chairs were in front of Gen and across the table sat the commander. He was a tall man of around thirty five years of age. He had short black hair cut in the Eremian fashion. His helm sat on the table in front of him. His bronze armor was clean and polished but showed many dents and repairs. His face was clean shaven and squarish. His brows were bushy and thick and came together when he frowned. He motioned for them to sit down when they entered, his hands calloused and scarred as well. Gen walked up and sat in the chair to the left. The young officer sat in the one on the right.
"Who are you? What is your business here?" the commander asked roughly.
"As I told your young officer here, my name is not important. My business is to take my injured friend to his home in the Schola. I came to beg you to let us enter. I also have a complaint to set before you about the actions of some of your men a few nights ago," Gen replied calmly in Eremian.
"My orders are to let no one in or out of that place. I can not let you enter for any reason. Now what complaints do you have?" The commander seemed impatient.
"I do not know how long ago. Yesterday to a few days ago, my friend was out with young students to gather herbs for their class. They were assaulted by Eremian soldiers and my friend was injured near to death. Do you know of these actions?"
The Dark Path Page 14