“Maybe I should go back to the last known tracks and start again.”
“No, that will take too much time.”
“Then what do we do now?” Morlonn asked. “They must be covering their tracks magically. That is the only thing I can figure, because they just disappear.”
“Then we just need to ride to the Death Pass as quickly as we can. We can make a meal, rest the horses for an hour…but only an hour,” Alaezdar emphasized and looked at Gartan. “Then we can ride through the forest during the night as quickly as we can and just head straight for the pass.”
Alaezdar cursed himself silently for taking so long to follow their trail. They should’ve just headed for the pass as fast as they could and cut them off.
He seemed to be making the wrong decision at every corner, but he also knew that if they went straight for the pass, he risked being wrong. They could end up waiting in vain at the dangerous pass and would have missed them entirely. They would have no way of knowing where they were. That was a gamble he chose not to take, but looking back now, it seemed more evident that that would have been the better choice.
Where else would they have gone if not directly past the Death Pass and into the Goblin Tribes Forest?
In the end, Alaezdar concluded they were all going to die heading into this mission chasing Fyaa. Maybe he was trying to save their lives by stalling. He shook his head and tried to shake the folly out of his thoughts.
Alaezdar dismounted, tied up his horse to the closest tree and pulled out the last bag of oats from his pack. He opened it and tied it to the tree so his horse could eat, and then he went straight to Gartan for some answers.
Gartan was dismounting from the packhorse when he walked up to him. His hood was over his head and Alaezdar reached for the top of it and pulled it back. “Tell me. What is all over your face?”
Gartan flinched and stepped away with his back against the hindquarters of the horse. The horse sidestepped as if it had been pushed to move away.
“My face?” he asked.
He looked into Alaezdar’s eyes and realized instantly why he was not supposed to see them when he had given him the message. He felt afraid of Alaezdar, and he did not know what was going to happen to him.
Gartan’s face seemed to have ink tattoo markings of leaves covering every inch of it except for a small dragon over his left eye and facing his right eye. Its wings tucked in and its tail hung around the outer side of his eye and turned back in at the cheekbone continuing under the eye. The dragon tattoo Alaezdar recognized as the exact tattoo that Gartan the Dark and all of the other Watchers guild members had, but usually the dragon was the only marking any of them ever had.
Gartan’s cloak also looked to be made from leaves, but it wasn’t. During the day Alaezdar had noticed that it changed as they traveled, almost as if the leaves were moving and changing their color and hue to match the background. There was also a crumpled effect to it, as if to erase any straight edges a natural cloak would have.
“It is my cloak. Like your sword, it channels my Kronn. That is what changes my face and causes the cloak to change around from the environment. When I need it to be, I can be almost invisible. I am not really, but it blends in so well that I can barely be seen, although I can be smelled and that is unfortunate as far as hunting goes. But if I am upwind, it is quite effective. Would you like a rabbit for dinner? I am quite good with a bow and arrow, if I can borrow Morlonn’s?”
“I don’t need your help finding food!” Morlonn interrupted. “In fact, I am going right now for food before it gets too dark.”
“So, if you take off your cloak, your face will change as well?” Rivlok asked while throwing Tharn’s saddle on the ground.
“Yes, the only mark on my face is the dragon. By the way, may I ask if the dragon is sleeping?”
Alaezdar looked at Gartan quizzically, but answered.
“I suppose so…it is just lying on your eye.”
“Thanks,” he said.
Morlonn had just grabbed his gear and had one foot ready to leave, but he stopped abruptly and asked, “Instead of taking my bow, why don’t you let me borrow the cloak while I hunt?”
“Just like Alaezdar’s sword, it isn’t magical in the sense, that is, of its own being. It cannot work without an addition to it, such as Kronn. So, it most likely won’t work for you, just as the properties that make Alaezdar’s sword seem magical won’t work for you either.”
“Right. I see,” Morlonn lied and impatiently continued leaving so he could bring the group something decent to eat for a change. He checked his bow, mounted his horse, spurred quickly around, and rode off deeper into the forest.
“What do you mean by that?” Alaezdar asked as he watched Morlonn leave.
“It is your Kronn, not the sword, that makes your sword do what it does. Where did you get the sword?”
“My mentor gave it to me as I was inducted into Rager’s House of Renegades. He told me it was a magical sword, but he himself could not find it useful in its magic. I think that was his way of saying that he either doubted it was authentic, or he couldn’t use it.”
“Did it work for you right away?” Gartan asked.
“Yes and no. I felt it immediately -- the coursing through my veins -- but it took a few months, maybe a year, before I started realizing its potential for how it worked. I still feel that I have even more magic as yet to be revealed.”
“I think you are right about its capabilities. I would guess that it does indeed have some great power that is yet to be unlocked, as is the same with you. The sword is just the device to express your Kronn. You yourself are a device of Kronn. So, depending on the power of one’s Kronn, one can determine your strength or even an object’s power, such as the sword. Look, hand the sword to me. Let me look at it before I give it to Rivlok.”
Alaezdar withdrew Bloodseeker and gave it to Gartan.
Gartan took it and immediately felt something he was not expecting. The sword felt hot in his hand, and instantly he began to feel anger, but within seconds, the sword and his anger cooled. This was not consistent to what he had learned about Kronn, yet it was another piece to his puzzle discovered.
Kronn was an individual thing and he had never felt someone else’s Kronn like that before. Perplexed, he handed the sword over to Rivlok. Rivlok took it, but was hesitant to be part of this lesson.
“Do you feel anything, Rivlok?” Gartan asked.
“No, of course not. I don’t believe in this stuff.”
“Of course you don’t, because you don’t have any Kronn to make it work,” he said sarcastically.
“But, I might believe in your cloak. Let me wear that,” Rivlok said and returning Alaezdar’s sword to him.
Gartan took off his cloak and handed it to Rivlok. Rivlok took it, but when he saw Gartan’s leaf markings disappear, his face went flush with astonishment. What was once a cloak that looked like leaves now looked like a common brown wool cloak. He put it around his shoulders and lifted the hood over his face. Nothing happened. Rivlok rolled up the sleeves to look at his arms, hoping to see the markings, but he saw nothing.
“See, Alaezdar,” Gartan said. “His face is plain, and even if he wanted to, he cannot make the cloak make him invisible. He does not have the tools, or Kronn, to make it work.”
Rivlok took off the cloak and threw it back to Gartan.
“Someone needs to make a fire to cook up Morlonn’s catch!” Rivlok said and stomped off impatiently. “Come on, Tharn. Let’s get something going and hope Morlonn isn’t too long with a couple of rabbits.”
“Kronn is of the land,” Gartan began. “The Sor elves were the first to use it effectively. Some
humans know how to use it, but it is said that is only because they have elven blood somewhere in their lineage. The Watcher’s Guild learned it from the dragons because they passed it to us when they left the land.”
“I have heard some of that, but I did not know about the dragons,” Alaezdar stated.
“Oh, you knew it all along, and even if you would’ve thought about it long enough just now, you would’ve came to that conclusion. Think about it. The dragons were created at the same time Kronn was created, but for some reason they never really belonged to the realm. They sought to leave the realm from the very beginning and many, many years ago, our founder Dragos Gartan released them through the Aaestfallia keep and they left this realm forever. They returned to a land more suitable to them and when they did so, they relinquished their power of Kronn to Dragos Gartan. He in turn passed the power to all of his guild members and future guild members. But that doesn’t matter so much now. What matters is that you understand what you are.”
“I know what I am. I am a failed swordsman looking to redeem a quiet life,” he answered quietly.
Gartan laughed, but then stopped quickly for fear of offending him.
“That you will never have.”
“What do you mean?” Alaezdar asked. He felt a little annoyed, but mostly embarrassed for speaking about the personal pain of his failures.
“You are much, much more to this realm than a swordsman or a quiet farmer hopeful.”
“How is that possible? If I want to hide myself from everyone and everything, no one can stop me.”
“No. That is where you do not understand how Kronn works. Look, here is a simple test. I have just learned that there is pain in your heart that causes rage. Think about it. What is the name of the mercenary guild you joined? And I know the answer, so don’t try to fool me.”
“Rager’s House of Renegades”
Yes, Rager’s. The name Rager’s is no coincidence, and your sword is called Bloodseeker. Who gave it that name?”
“I did.”
“Of course you did…why?”
“Because once I start battle, it seeks blood and will not stop until it gets it. It makes my body vibrate and hurt until it finds its first kill or marks its first wound.”
“And then how do you feel?”
“I want more. I get angry and I feel my blood change. It turns…I don’t know how to describe it…except…inside out, but more importantly, I feel anger.”
“You are raging mad,” he added.
“Yes…I never thought of it that way, but yes, that is it. So, that is Kronn?”
“Yes and no at the same time. It is your Kronn and it is communicating to you through the land. You are one of the few humans who can do this. Your rage is something of an enigma, though. I cannot feel where that part stems from. Your sword, though, is a bit different. I did feel the Kronn in it earlier when I held it, but there was something else involved. There is no doubt that it is a magical sword. The question is whether it is not only Kronn magic or both Kronn and Wrae magic, or maybe the sword is even a bit magical in a hidden way.”
Gartan let Alaezdar think on that for a few seconds before he asked, “Do you have elven blood?”
“I don’t know. My father has Kronn. My mother did not, as far as I know, and I really don’t know much more about my family line.”
“I really do wonder, and am very curious, although your heritage doesn’t matter as much as that you realize you are important to this realm in a way greater than you know.”
“Do you know?” he asked.
“No, I don’t. I only know that when those who have Kronn use it, it is specifically identified with their personality and inner being. Some can heal for good, some can only use it for ill or pain, and some can control others to manipulate them to do good or bad. It all depends on the individual. You, on the other hand, are none of those, yet possibly all of those things. Right now, you are too angry to see the truth. Only you will know your true Kronn when you find it. And in that respect, that is what I am doing here in this forest. To find my Kronn, and maybe help you find yours. I have been on this mission all of my life, and I think this mission may be close to its end.”
Alaezdar raked his fingers through his hair and nodded in understanding, but his head was swimming trying to put together all of his thoughts. As he looked up, he noticed an unusual gathering of small birds in the trees and they all seemed to be looking at him. Their soft chirping had a calming effect to his thoughts.
“I think I have had enough to think about for one day. All I want to do right now is get Aaelie back to her family.”
“Fair enough. I am sorry to lay all of this at your feet, but I truly believe that is why I have spent my life out here searching and learning about Kronn…so that I can meet you today.”
“Thank you…I guess,” Alaezdar said
He walked away and went to check on Rivlok and Tharn to see how they were coming along. He hoped that Morlonn came back soon with something good to eat because he was very hungry for something with substance. He was getting tired of the nuts and the roots that Gartan had found along the way today.
Gartan ran up to Alaezdar and put his hand to his shoulder.
“Don’t move. We are in big trouble.”
“You are just now figuring that out?” he asked.
“Shhh…look in the trees.”
“Yeah, tons of birds. So?”
“It’s not what you think. They’re Dok Churners.”
Alaezdar’s blood chilled. He knew exactly what those were. Even though he had never actually seen them before, he had heard about them and what trouble they could cause. Most people who had seen them had never lived long enough to tell their tale. They were most dangerous when young hatchlings and still in the care of their mothers. They were small birds then who had no means of feeding themselves, and they fed upon the fresh blood of recently killed prey killed by their mothers. At their young age they were too small to kill on their own.
The mothers hunted and killed their prey by decapitating their heads by wrapping their long, barbed tails around the preys’ necks. The mother bird was featherless, unlike their young, who lost their feathers around the same time that their tails grew. The mothers flew high overhead and looked like small sleek dragons with wide, shiny, soft black wings. They’d silently glide overhead and wait for the right moment to strike.
Once a mother spotted her prey, she would land directly on its forehead and wrap her large wings completely around its head, covering the eyes, and then wrap her tail around its neck. The tail is so long and strong that it wraps around its victims neck sometimes twice, The sharp barbs on the tail are evenly spaced, and the tail squeezes tightly while the barbs penetrate the neck of the prey. The mother then quickly severs the head from its host.
Once the head is removed, the feeding frenzy could begin. Before an ounce of blood is spilled onto the ground, the small birds land on the prey’s shoulders and begin sticking their long beaks into the neck. Their long tongues enter into the cavity and sucking out the blood. Within second the body is drained of all its blood.
Alaezdar withdrew Bloodseeker and called for Tharn and Rivlok. Within seconds, they were there, but they stood silently, wondering why the urgency.
“Get underneath this horse and stay there!” Alaezdar whispered through clenched teeth.
Gartan, Tharn and Rivlok did as he said.
Alaezdar went into the woods to see if he could spot the mother. He knew if the Dok Churner found him first, he was not going to live, even if he had stayed with the group. There was no defense foe these birds once they landed on you. They latched on so tightly, all one could do to kill one was t
o slice it with a sword, but to do so could also kill the person the sword was attached to. The best one could hope for would be death by the sword or, even better, a severe concussion from the sword blow. In most cases it spelled death.
As he ran through the trees, he looked to the sky, but did not see anything flying in the air. He did notice that in all of the trees surrounding him there were small birds, no larger than finches. They seemed to be watching him and chirping louder and louder as he ran. They began to make so much noise he feared that the mother had to be close.
Then he saw her. She was in a spinning dive coming right towards him. He raised Bloodseeker and immediately began swinging blindly. The Dok Churner dodged his swings and began to swirl above his head. Alaezdar felt his sword tremble in his hands as if it were itself frustrated as he tried unsuccessfully to knock the bird out of the air time after time.
In a panic, he ran back to where the group hid underneath the horse.
“Run!” he yelled as he ran towards the horse. “Run deep into the woods and hide, but stay together!”
Everyone scattered in all directions from underneath the horse, but they came together again shortly and disappeared deep into the woods. The Dok Churner became confused for a second and it stopped flying after Alaezdar. Instead, she flapped her wings, staying in one spot surveying the situation. Alaezdar took advantage of the situation and sheathed Bloodseeker easily, which surprised him. He sensed Bloodseeker wanted no part of this battle. He then jumped onto the horse and went in the opposite direction from the others.
The Dok Churner did as Alaezdar had hoped and followed him. He ran the horse through the thick trees, and the branches of the full pines scratched both him and the horse as they raced by. As the bird flew right behind him, he could hear her big wings flapping in the air. The horse jumped and nickered when the bird whipped her tail and hit Alaezdar behind the head with a thump.
The bird continued to whip her tail numerous times as they ran, and each time he could feel that more of the tail was making contact. The back of his head began to bleed. He knew he wasn’t going to get away. The bird was gaining on him and he feared one more tail whip would be around his neck, although he was surprised that she hadn’t caught him yet and already had his neck wrapped and his head covered by her wings.
The Warrior's Bane (War for the Quarterstar Shards Book 1) Page 20