Chronicles of Galadria III_Lessons

by David Gay-Perret

  “Cover your face,” Kezthrem said then. “We should look to see if we can save anyone. Be careful. It’s possible the enemy is still roaming about in the area.” Then, he moved away from his disciple’s side. Glaide covered his mouth and nose with his cape, so that he could breathe safely, but there was nothing he could do to protect his eyes. The acrid fumes irritated them, and after just a few moments, he found it difficult to see where he was going. He was about to turn back when chance smiled upon him. A light breeze rose up, enough to dissipate some of the toxic vapor, and letting him see where he was going well enough. However, as the smoke disappeared, it was replaced by a horrific sight. Besides the houses, which were mostly destroyed, there were bodies everywhere. Most of the victims appeared to be civilians, and it was obvious they hadn’t had enough time to prepare any kind of a defense. Glaide felt bile rising up in his throat as he saw the blood covering the ground and splattered against the walls. He fixed his gaze on the ground to spare himself the sight of the faces, frozen in surprise, and the bodies, mutilated or covered in gashes. The adolescent found he couldn’t move or speak. His mind, traumatized by what surrounded him, replayed the images of carnage over and over until the boy fell to his knees with a moan.

  “There aren’t any survivors,” Kezthrem groaned as he rejoined his disciple. The familiar voice of his master brought Glaide out of his stupor. He got up and drew his sword quickly. The adrenaline that he felt pump into his blood was the only thing that could keep him from losing his mind.

  “The guards fought bravely, but it is clear that they weren’t expecting this attack.”

  “What was responsible?” demanded the boy, his voice like ice.

  “I found the bodies of a few orks. Besides, the manner of the attack was typical for orks. They don’t torture, and they don’t take prisoners. They are content to simply kill everyone they come across.”

  “They will pay for this,” Glaide growled out.

  “Our priority is to see if anyone managed to flee. There could be some survivors who took refuge among the trees nearby.”

  “Why would they have built a village here?” exclaimed the adolescent, barely containing his rage. “They knew this place was dangerous!”

  “No, they didn’t, because it shouldn’t have been. We passed out of Zakorth’s territory a few miles ago. Or, I should say, the old limits of their territory.” That revelation was like a cold shower for the boy. His blinding rage gave way to surprise, then fear as he realized that the cursed village had extended their range of influence, pushing their borders out by miles.

  “If we don’t stop them...” he murmured.

  “Everything in its time,” Kezthrem interrupted. “For the moment, we need to bring aid to anyone who might require it.” Glaide nodded quickly. He and his master started away slowly, side by side. The breeze continued to blow, carrying the horrible smell into the distance, and the adolescent noticed that the smoke had all but disappeared. Now, he could clearly see where he was going, and the scenery around them became ever more nightmarish. No one and nothing had been spared. The boy did all he could to keep his gaze fixed on the path in front of him, instead of letting it wander, but he couldn’t ignore the bodies fixed against the wall by lances. Again he felt himself drowning in his anger, and though he usually tried to stop it, this time he let it fill his heart, knowing it was the only thing that could save him from insanity. Two contrary desires raged in his heart: he wanted to fight, to release his fury, but on the other hand, he wanted to flee, leaving this abominable place behind him. He knew that if anyone had survived, it was his duty to help them, but he didn’t seem to have the strength to look for them. And everything around him remained hopelessly calm and dead...

  The two combatants stepped out now into what must have been the city square. They could still make out some shop fronts, and a number of roads opened into the space. However, as everywhere else, no one and nothing had been spared. The bodies of soldiers in armor littered the ground, but the young man felt some of his anger allayed at the sight of many ork bodies, as well.

  “It seems that the enemy has withdrawn,” murmured Kezthrem. As they’d noticed when they first arrived, the village was surrounded by a forest, and before the two, a lane led directly toward it.

  “They must have thought these woods would protect them,” declared the man. “If anyone escaped, that is where they would have hidden.”

  “Don’t you think it’s as likely that that is where the orks attacked from? They would only have had to pass through the forest to come out in the middle of the square, without encountering any resistance.”

  “It’s not likely the monsters did that, first because there is no trace of battle there, and secondly because if the villagers voluntarily created a path in that direction, there must be a reason.”

  “What are you thinking of?”

  “Elves. Perhaps these woods are one of their homes, in which case they would be the best possible defensive wall.” Glaide thought for a moment before replying.

  “In that case, they too would have had to be killed.”

  “It’s obvious that no one here expected to be attacked, especially not by the forces of Zakorth. You know that within that village’s zone of control, it is impossible to enter a fight without constantly having to face reinforcements. Perhaps the elves fled their home? Or perhaps you’re right, and perhaps they, too, were killed.”

  Suddenly, both fighters stopped talking. They had just heard the sound of footsteps somewhere in front of them, coming from within the forest. As the sound drew closer, they were able to make out a small figure moving forward hesitantly. Finally, the figure stopped at the treeline, and Glaide immediately realized the silhouette was that of a child. Between three and five, the small boy looked completely lost. His clothes were dirty and torn, but he was unscathed. Kezthrem was the first to react. He sheathed his sword and headed toward the child, who didn’t even step back as he saw the stranger running toward him. He simply continued to walk. Glaide understood that his master wanted to prevent the child from seeing the horrors surrounding them, and Kezthrem rapidly picked the child up and covered his head with his cape. The child didn’t protest, and didn’t even make a sound.

  “He must be exhausted,” thought the child. “His parents surely ordered him to hide. Where might they be lying now? Where are they amidst this foul butchery that stretches out before our eyes?” The man came back toward his disciple. Against his chest, lay the tiny body, its breathing jarring and uneven. The child was gripping the edge of the cape so tightly that his hands were beginning to turn white.

  “Master, do you think there are more? Can we help them?”

  “This boy won’t be able to tell us. It would be useless to ask if he has any companions.” Before Kezthrem could continue, however, the air was filled with the clatter of weapons and the scraping sound of boots.

  “A raid!” the man cried over the noise. “They’re coming. Take the child and head for the horses.”

  “But what if there are more survivors?” Glaide called out in turn as the first orks surged into the streets.

  “We have no choice. In a few minutes, they’ll have more reinforcements!” Glaide felt revulsion rise up in him at the thought of abandoning any others who might have escaped, but the little boy had curled up tightly against him, and had begun to sob quietly. The young man told himself that it was better to save this one life than risk losing every last soul.

  “Hang on,” he murmured. He felt the tiny hands grip his cape tightly while he drew his sword with his right hand, and supported the child with his left. He didn’t know if he could fight with just one hand, but he was sure, too, that Kezthrem would stop the monsters before they ever got to him. With a cry of rage he ran, while the sound of steel on steel resonated behind him. He followed the same path he and his master had taken just minutes earlier. On the way, he came across a few creatures, but the hatred filling him was so great that he cut them to pieces without diffic
ulty. Even though he could only fight with one hand, his attacks lost almost none of their strength or precision. After just seconds, the remains of the wall and the main gate came into view. He moved even faster, but just when he thought he was free and clear, two monsters together barred the path.

  “You’ll pay for your crimes!” Glaide roared. With that, he threw himself upon his adversaries. He easily dodged the first attack and killed his enemy, then blocked a second attack and, despite the superior strength of his adversary, he forced it back and decapitated it. Though his thirst for blood was not quenched, he lost no time in leaving the village. With a quick glance, he checked to make sure his charge wasn’t injured. Throughout the mad dash, the boy had kept his arms tightly wrapped around the neck of the young man, and his head pressed against the man’s chest. Glaide soon reached the horses, who were grazing calmly. Behind him, he heard a few more sounds of battle, but the adolescent had no doubt what the result of the fray would be; even at twenty to one, the battle had been an even one. As if to confirm his thoughts, the silhouette of Kezthrem appeared then, rendered blurry by the remaining smoke that filled the air once again. The man rejoined his disciple, who moved to place the child on the ground. The boy stayed standing, but he looked spent and in shock.

  “This child is completely traumatized,” the young man began, thinking to himself that he was in the same state. “We need to take care of him.”

  “And we will, Glaide, but not yet.” With that, he pointed to the horizon, where a group of riders had appeared.

  “Oh, no,” groaned the adolescent. “What now?”

  “We don’t have time to find out,” replied Kezthrem. “Into the saddle! The child will ride with me.” With that, the two riders mounted and dug their heels into their mounts’ sides. The creatures, as if they had, too, perceived the danger, immediately began to gallop faster than they ever had before. Glaide held on with all of his strength while his heart beat like a drum. The countryside flew by, and he thought that he never would have believed you could go so fast on horseback.... The shadows in the distance didn’t appear to be speeding up; they must not have noticed the fugitives. Within a few minutes, they’d put plenty of distance in between them and the village, but Glaide didn’t feel reassured at all. Who could say for sure how far the territory of Zakorth reached now? The sun had nearly set, and he knew that if other problems awaited them, that would just make them that much worse. No, he had no reason to rejoice yet.

  After about an hour of traveling as quickly as the horses allowed, the darkness of night had fallen completely, and Kezthrem decided to stop. Glaide jumped down and approached his master.

  “Are we still in any danger?” he asked.

  “No, we’re certainly beyond the borders of their territory now.”

  “How can you be sure?” insisted the boy, still worried.

  “Listen.”

  The adolescent put a hand to his ear, then a smile lit up his face as he made out the soft moo of a cow in the distance. This sign of life reassured him, and he felt his tension finally fade. He dropped to the ground and let his tears spill down his cheeks. Images of the ruined village assaulted him, and he again felt deep pain at the thought of all of the lives that had been lost. Slowly, he turned his head, and when he spotted the child busy helping Kezthrem gather wood for the fire, his sobs began again, though this time they were tears of relief. He decided he should help, though he continued to sniffle. His voice shook a little as he asked the question on his mind.

  “Shouldn't we keep going, until we find whoever owns the cows?”

  “No. This child needs some rest, and so do we. We’ll look for them tomorrow, and if they’re willing, we’ll leave the child in their care.” Glaide nodded silently at that. Once the fire was going, Kezthrem quickly cooked some meat and a few pieces of fruit, which the little boy devoured. Bit by bit, his color began to improve, and he began to offer frequent little smiles to his saviors. Nonetheless, he remained perfectly silent. Glaide thought that that could last for quite a while, and that the kind of man the boy would become would depend very much on the adoptive parents he and his master found for the boy.

  The child finally dozed off, and with extreme care, Kezthrem wrapped him up in his long cape. Seeing that, the young man thought to himself that this man would certainly have been an excellent father. He didn’t know what the man’s relationship with his magg had been like, or if he had ever felt love for any woman, but he didn’t doubt that at some point, this man must have wanted to one day have a family. “What will happen to Kezthrem in the future?” the adolescent asked himself, as he realized that this was a question he’d never before asked.

  The man settled in next to him, and the two stared into the flames that danced about in front of them.

  “How are you feeling, Glaide?” Kezthrem asked gently.

  “I’m okay... thanks. This was a trying experience, and I know that the horrors I saw today will haunt me for a long time.” The older man sighed before replying.

  “And what’s more, we know now that Zakorth has become even more dangerous.”

  “Ignorance is bliss,” replied Glaide with a hint of a smile. His master smiled a bit, too. Then, becoming more serious, the young man continued. “We can’t leave this boy with just anyone. What he’s lived through is terrible, and if his adoptive parents aren’t careful, this trauma could destroy him.”

  “We’ll do what needs to be done. Don’t worry.”

  The boy had more he wanted to say, but he hesitated before speaking again.

  “Master... Today, more than ever, your presence and your lessons were the strength that kept me going. I’m so happy to have met you, and so proud that you took me on as your disciple...”

  “Me, too, Glaide,” replied the man with half a smile. “Me, too.” At that, the adolescent went to lay down.

  In the middle of the night, he cried out, the sound waking him. He was covered in sweat, and he forced himself to sit there and relax. His heart was beating like a drum. The images from his dream passed through his mind over and over. He had seen different villages of Galadria razed, one after another, and each time, he heard Emily, Jeremy, and Gwenn calling out for him to help them. He’d known that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep well so soon after what he had seen a few hours earlier; all he could hope for was that he would recover soon.

  He realized then that something had changed in him. From now on, every monster he crossed paths with would appear like a symbol of lives lost, and every enemy would become synonymous with destruction and carnage. The young man, still breathing hard, took a moment to examine the face of the child sleeping a little ways away from him. The boy was smiling. The adolescent’s cry of fear hadn’t wakened him, and the peaceful expression of the toddler calmed Glaide. He lay back down as he reminded himself that he wasn’t responsible for what had happened, but that it would be his job to put a definitive stop to the aggression of this demonic village and its occupants.

  Chapter 31

  THE next day, the bright sunlight that awakened the small group put everyone in a good humor. Although the small boy still remained mute, he smiled constantly, and seemed thrilled to again climb up on Kezthrem’s horse. Glaide, on the other hand, preferred to walk alongside his mount. He constantly patted the creature’s neck, however, silently thanking him for everything he’d done the day before.

  During the night, the sounds had been almost imperceptible, but the further the travelers went, the louder the mooing of the cows became. Around them, the fields and hills were sprinkled liberally with flowers of all colors. The adolescent turned about in every direction, trying to take in the panorama with its breathtaking beauty. Everything here was so different from what they’d seen the day before. For a moment, he felt like he was in the middle of a fairy tale. Birds sang around them, animals frolicked about here and there, and the atmosphere was serene and tranquil.

  After a little while, a house appeared on the other side of a hill. It had a
n enclosed courtyard, and a small gate gave entrance to it. All around, a herd of cows were gathered. They were making a terrible amount of noise, and Glaide couldn’t help but laugh. He could make out a man in the distance, trying to herd them together with great, loud cries. Despite the early hour, he seemed to be fit and ready for the day. Kezthrem smiled, too, and turned his mount toward the home. The young man jumped on the back of his own mount to quickly cover the last few yards, all while carefully watching the owner of the grazing animals. Every time he convinced one animal to rejoin the group, another would slip away. Glaide couldn’t stop laughing, even as his master drew close to the gate. The man spotted them, and stopped herding the creatures.

  “Hello, friend,” called Kezthrem. “We’d loved to speak to you, and to your family, if you have one.” The stranger left his cows in peace to approach them, and they immediately spread out again. The two riders climbed down as he began to speak.

  “My wife and daughter are inside. What can I do for you?”

  “We have important information from the north, and this little fellow is hungry.” Seeing the child with his torn clothes, the farmer’s eyes widened. However, he quickly invited the travelers in, without stopping to ask any questions. They entered through the kitchen, the only room with an outside entrance. There, they found a young girl, about eight years old, and a woman who was in the middle of preparing their breakfast. They turned when they heard the master and his disciple enter, and their greeting came with no visible surprise.