Tipper looked at Libby, who had lifted her head. He turned back toward Brock.
“What happened?”
Brock sighed. “Something big. I’ll explain while you two get dressed.” He turned away from them, facing the door as he began recounting the events of the prior evening.
. . .
Brock hugged Dory, thanking her for the food and water. He was going to miss her and the staff at the inn, and he told them he hoped to be back someday. Stepping outside to join the others, he squinted in the bright sunlight. When he glanced into the blue sky above, he noticed a large star shining despite the bright blue sky surrounding it.
“That’s odd,” he said, pointing at the sky. “You can’t usually see stars during the day.”
Looking up into the heavens, Benny responded, “It’s actually a planet. I ran into Nindlerod at the beginning of the school year, and he was looking at it through a telescope. Back then, you could see it just before dawn. He said it would continue drawing closer to us until we could see it during the day.”
Brock nodded as he reflected on his conversation with Nindlerod in mid-summer. The man had been tracking a planet, stating that it was drawing closer. It felt odd to be able to see it during the day though.
Turning toward the others, Brock surveyed the group. Prepared for the cool weather ahead, they were dressed in coats and plain travel cloaks, none opting to wear their blue student cloak. Cam’s longsword was hanging on his hip while the great sword that Lars had taken from the armory rested snugly within the baldric strapped to his back. Parker, with a longbow and full quiver, and Brock, with his metal-reinforced staff, were the only others who were armed.
“Is everyone ready?” Brock asked.
Nodding heads gave a silent reply. He gripped his staff in one hand while taking Ashland’s hand in the other and began walking east.
“Where are you going, Brock?” Tipper asked. “The roads out of town are that direction.” He pointed southwest.
Brock nodded. “I know, Tip. That’s why we’re going east instead. Anyone looking for us is likely to check either the road heading west toward Selbin or the one that runs south down to Sarville. Dory told me about an old trail that cuts east through the mountains. It sounds like the best way to avoid attention.”
They cut through town onto a narrow road skirting the north edge of the lake. Small waves lapped the rocky shore just south of the road while thick stands of trees stood to the north. After a mile, the road turned from the lake, narrowing as it cut a path through the trees. Birds tweeted cheerfully from the bare branches of the leaf trees, oblivious to the problems and struggles of man. The group walked in quiet, tired from having so little sleep. Conflicting emotions churned inside of Brock, torn between the loss of what might have been and the excitement of what may lie ahead.
Tipper caught up to Brock, breaking the silence. “So, this Chaos thing you told me about. You said that Libby and I might be able to do it too. Is Chaos what you used to heal my leg when I fell off the roof last winter?”
Brock smiled. “No, Tip. Healing comes from something called Order. It’s kind of the opposite of Chaos.”
“Okay,” Tipper replied. “What can Chaos do then?”
Brock snorted. “I’m still discovering that myself. All I can tell you is what I’ve seen it do so far.”
Tipper nodded. “That’s fine.”
Brock recalled that Tipper had already seen it in action. “Remember when we were trapped in the cave with the bacabra? Remember how I made the boulder come to life and attack the beast?”
Lars’ voice came from behind. “I saw a bacabra once. It was at sunset, near the shore of Lake Selbin. Luckily, I was across the bay with a good quarter mile of water between us. Even from there, the massive beast appeared fearsome.”
Tipper nodded. “It was fearsome alright. I thought we were dead until the big rock attacked it.” He addressed Brock. “That was Chaos?”
Brock nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t know it at the time, but that’s what it was. Another time that you’ve heard about was when we won the Academy Catapult Challenge. Remember how our catapult launched a heavy metal ball over two miles? That was caused by Chaos, though I wasn’t even aware of what I had done.”
Tipper’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’re saying that Chaos can somehow bring things to life and can make things fly further?”
Brock smiled. “Close. Chaos can be used in different ways, each use defined by the symbol applied when channeling Chaos. The symbol defines the effect it has. With the boulder, I somehow brought it to life or animated it. With the catapult, I used a symbol called Power. According to Benny, it increases the energy of whatever it’s used on, making it many times more powerful.”
Tipper nodded again. “I think I get it. But what happens later? You said the Academy Engineers couldn’t make the catapult work the same way.”
“Well, the effect lasts for a short time. From what Benny and I tested, the potency is noticeably diminished after an hour and seems completely gone within two hours,” Brock explained.
Tipper looked back at Libby, who had been listening in quiet. “So, you’ll teach Libby and me how to use it?”
Brock smiled. “Sure, Tipper. It might come in handy at some point to have more of us able to use it. After all, who knows what lies ahead?”
PART II
DARK HORIZONS
CHAPTER 19
Brock gazed out at the valley that had been his home for more than a year, now partially darkened by the shadows cast by the mountains to the west. From his high vantage point atop the mountain pass, the Academy appeared far smaller than normal. Surrounded by tall mountains on three sides, the open fields of the Academy lawn stretched south of the school. His gaze swept southward from the lawn and past the wooded forest, settling on the town hugging the banks of Lake Fallbrandt. The surface of the lake was still, its dark blue waters reflecting the fluffy white clouds passing overhead. The road they had taken along the lake narrowed as it entered the woods, becoming a winding hiking path that ran between two mountains.
He turned toward his companions, who had paused to rest upon the rocks and fallen trees strewn about the small clearing. Though they were thousands of feet above the valley floor, the saddle where they now rested appeared quite low compared to the two peaks it connected. Despite the late-afternoon sun, the air was crisp at this elevation. Brock knew that they were on the cusp of winter and he hoped to be somewhere well beyond the mountains before snowfall hit the area.
“We should get moving,” Brock announced. “I’d like to reach the bottom by sunset. It will be a bit warmer down there at night.”
“Thank Issal that we go down now,” Lars grumbled. “I’ve had enough of hiking uphill to last a while.”
Parker patted Lars on the shoulder. “That’s because you’re carrying the most weight.”
Lars’ brow furrowed. “What do you mean? My pack is about the same as yours.”
“I wasn’t talking about your pack.” Parker grinned.
Lars took a swipe at Parker, who dodged and scooted away.
Cam chuckled. “Enough messing around. Let’s get moving.”
The group shouldered their packs and gathered along the trail. With everyone ready, Brock led them down the winding path toward the valley floor. He didn’t know where the trail would lead them, but he hoped it wouldn’t involve any high rise in elevation.
They followed the narrow trail as it weaved through the wooded hillside, continuously heading downward. The shade beneath the forest canopy was cool enough that Brock never broke a sweat, despite the weight he carried and the energy he exerted with his fast pace.
After three hours of steady descent, the ground began to level. Pushed by the need to put more distance between them and the Academy, they pressed on for another hour until the dying light forced them to find a place to camp.
Brock stopped, turning back to face his trailing companions. “We are almost out of light. I know it’s bee
n a long day, but we put some good distance between the Academy and us. Let’s look for a place to camp for the night.”
“Sounds good to me,” Benny remarked. “My feet are killing me.”
They resumed their trek, scanning the surrounding woods as they walked. Moments later, a grunting noise from a nearby thicket sounded and a wild boar burst from the brush, barreling toward Brock. He leapt to the side, desperately swinging his staff at the beast’s snout. The metal-plated staff connected, redirecting the boar’s path enough such that it missed Ashland. Cries and shouts sounded from the group, startled by the sudden attack.
“Everyone get back.” Brock shouted, stepping forward to get the boar’s attention.
The boar shook its head, snorting as it spun about for another attack. The beast was big, easily weighing twice as much as Brock. The dark brown spiked hair on its body shook as it trembled in rage. It snorted again, snot blowing out its stubbed nose and onto the thick, yellowed tusks. With a grunt, it rushed toward Brock. He pointed his staff at the beast, took two steps, and leapt into the air. Planting the staff in the ground, he vaulted over the boar as it ran past.
Brock landed and lifted his staff, ready for another pass. He glanced toward his friends, seeing Cam and Lars advancing with their swords drawn. Brock looked back toward the boar to find it snorting in anger as launched into another charge. A twang sounded, followed by a thud as an arrow buried into the boar’s thick neck. The boar crashed face-first onto the trail, forcing Brock to leap aside to avoid it as tumbled into the undergrowth.
Breathing heavily, Brock stared down at the still body of the animal. He looked up, seeing Parker with another arrow nocked and ready.
“Thanks, Parker. That was becoming a bit scary.” Brock wiped sweat from his brow.
Parker smiled as he slid the arrow back into his quiver. “No problem. It’s nice to be able to use one of these,” he held up his longbow, “for something besides target practice and competitions.”
Brock’s eyes scanned the dead boar. It was a big animal, with tusks nearly a foot long.
Lars stepped closer to examine the boar. “It’s a lot like the pigs on my pa’s farm.” He scratched his head in thought. “Though I’ve never seen any move this fast. Our pigs also don’t have weapons like that on their face.”
Cam leaned in, now interested. “Pig? Are you saying that we could cook this, and it’ll be like eating pig?”
Benny laughed. “It sounds like Cam is hungry again. This thing has got to be five hundred pounds. It might even be enough to fill Cam’s belly.”
Lars laughed, clapping Benny on the shoulder. “He’s got you again, Cam.”
. . .
The cooked boar was delicious, tasting much like pork. To have the luxury of such a meal while traveling in the wild was a treat. Everyone ate more than they should have, somehow trying to compensate for the trail rations that they were destined to eat in the coming days.
They relaxed in a small clearing surrounded by thick woods, less than a hundred feet from where Parker had shot the boar. Lars had skinned and dressed the animal right there on the trail. Shortly after Benny had a fire started, Cam and Lars walked into camp carrying two large sections of the animal. They skewered each section with a large branch, suspending them over the fire using branches lashed together into makeshift supports. As the boar was cooking, they prepared the camp for their brief stay.
Nightfall was soon upon them, and the fire became an island of light among the darkness of the surrounding woods. Exhausted from little sleep and a long day on the trail, they ate in silence. Though everyone consumed more than their fill, half of the meat they had cooked remained. Lars pulled a sheet of tanned hide from his pack and wrapped it around a section of the leftover meat, stating that it would help to preserve the meat so they could eat it the next day. He stuffed it into his pack and sat on a log to watch the fire with the others.
Scattered around the dancing flames, the group rested in silence. Ashland snuggled against Brock with her head on his shoulder and his arm around her. Lars cleared his throat, breaking the peaceful moment.
“Brock? Where are we heading? Do you know?”
Brock was amazed at the way his friends looked to him for guidance, almost blindly following his lead. It was too much to expect them not to have these questions in their heads. Lars was merely the first to voice them.
Trying to sound confident, Brock responded, “The first thing to do is to get clear of the mountains. We’re now deep into autumn. The leaf trees are bare, and snow could hit any day now. We’re not equipped for that kind of weather, so we have to clear the mountains before winter hits.”
Pausing to construct his thoughts, Brock continued. “After that, we head south. Again, to avoid snow and cold weather. The climate to the south is warmer, especially at lower elevation, so that’s the best bet. That is, unless anyone else has a better idea.”
Brock’s gaze scanned the faces of the group, lit orange in the flickering firelight. His companions looked to one another, shrugging in response.
After a moment, Lars nodded. “Okay. Makes sense. But, then what?”
Brock sighed. “I don’t know, Lars. I know that I’m done with the Academy. I also know that I can’t change the past. For now, I’m just trying to look forward. I expect we’ll find a future out there somewhere. If you believe in me, I just ask that you give me a little time.”
Again, Lars nodded. “Fair enough.”
“In the meantime, maybe you all should ask yourself what it is you want to do.” Brock’s gaze swept from person-to-person. “What do you want from life?”
Nobody responded, the camp falling silent other than the crackling of the fire. The conversation was over and had gone far better than Brock had hoped.
Tipper spoke next. “Brock, when can Libby and I start learning about Chaos?” There was an eager edge to his voice.
Brock smiled, knowing that Tipper was enthusiastic. With both Tip and Benny in the group, they had enough enthusiasm to fill a stadium.
“If we’re able to stop a bit earlier tomorrow, we can work on it then. By tomorrow night, we should be beyond the reach of anyone who’s looking for us. From there, we can afford to slow our pace.”
Tipper nodded, putting his arm around Libby. “Sounds good to me.”
. . .
The next day was largely uneventful as they followed the trail along the valley floor, heading southeast. Shortly after noon, they came across a small bubbling creek and stopped to refill their water skins. At the creek, the trail turned south and continued in that direction until they stopped to make camp for the evening. Having consumed the boar meat during lunch, they had to resort to trail rations for dinner. Once finished with dinner, Brock and Ashland worked with Tipper and Libby as they attempted to channel Chaos. After two hours without success, they decided to join the others and get some sleep. Brock assured them that they would get it with more practice, although their possession of the ability was based purely on theory until proven otherwise.
Rising with the sun the next day, they ate a quick breakfast and resumed their journey. It wasn’t long before the elevation began to rise as the trail rose toward another saddle. They reached the top of the ridgeline just before noon, allowing the group to get a glimpse of what lay south and east of the line of peaks.
While the eastern slopes remained wooded, the forest was far less dense than the hills and valleys behind them. Where the ground leveled at the base of the mountains, the trees gave way to grassy plains. The sea of grass extended southward for miles until the plains met another line of distant mountains. When Brock looked east, the grassy fields extended for endless miles toward the far horizon.
To the north of the plains stood the line of mountains from which they were now emerging. The mountains extended along the western edge of the plains until they wrapped around the south edge of the plains, many miles away.
“How far do you think it goes?” Benny asked, looking out at the
fields below.
“I have no idea, Benny,” Brock replied. “This must be the Tantarri Plains.”
Benny nodded. “The Wailing War happened down there, wherever the upper plains meet the lower plains.”
Brock thought about the war, trying to imagine the armies of man fighting the evil force of the Banished Horde. Chaos had been involved, somehow. Whatever happened, though Chaos had helped to win the war, the Ministry chose to bury its existence and hide it away forever. Why would they do that? he wondered.
Tipper stepped next to Brock and rested a hand on his shoulder. “It’s another new adventure, Brock. If we keep going like this, eventually we’ll see the whole world together.”
Brock grinned. Tipper had a way of making him feel better. “Could be, Tip. Could be.”
Cam’s voice rose up from behind the group. “Since we’re stopped anyway, can we eat now? I’m starving.”
CHAPTER 20
“You don’t understand, Tip. It won’t work unless you can generate a strong emotion,” Brock explained. “Chaos is out there, everywhere around you. But, for some reason, it can’t be accessed unless you’re filled with fear or anger.”
Tipper nodded. “Okay. However, saying it and doing it are totally different. I’m tired from walking all day. It’s hard to even think, and you want me to get all full of anger when I’m not even angry.”
Brock realized that Tipper was right. Needing to trigger emotion in Tipper, Brock set his mind to the task. As he contemplated the situation, the group waited in quiet. The peaceful swishing sound of the chest-high grass surrounding them reminded Brock of the ocean. In fact, the setting was too peaceful, making it even more difficult for Tipper to tap into emotion. Brock needed to do something drastic and unexpected.
The Emblem Throne (The Runes of Issalia Book 2) Page 9