by Jeff Inlo
Ryson wasn't sure if it was anguish or relief that sliced through his spirit. The wizard cut right to the heart of the issue. Enin had addressed the concern that perhaps scared him the most, yet it was also the reason he came to the wizard for assistance.
"I'm not questioning it. I think she might be. Actually, I'm wondering if Linda wants to be with a delver."
"I see," Enin acknowledged as he considered the serious question with great deliberation. "I have spent time with your wife, even talked to her about it. She knew what to expect. She was always going to worry about your safety, but I don't think she ever held it against you, wanted you to be something else."
"That might have been before, but she seems different now. She made this remark about not having children and now she doesn't seem to care about anything. It's the magic she's immune to, not me, but something happened to her."
"It might have been a shock to her. Not wanting children and not being able to have them are two different things. In the back of her mind, it was always a possibility. Now, she realizes it no longer is. She probably just needs time."
It made sense, but the conclusion was much too abrupt for Ryson's liking. He had hoped Enin would be more proactive in offering a more helpful solution.
"So that's it?" Ryson asked.
"You hoped for more?"
"Yes! I don't understand this magic stuff, not like you do. I was hoping you might be able to do something."
"I can't change her immunity, and I can't make you something you're not."
"But maybe you can do something else."
"What did you have in mind?"
Ryson knew of Enin's great powers. He even knew of abilities the wizard had discarded.
"You used to talk about seeing the destiny in people, you had the ability."
"Yes, I did, and I blocked it out. I was making judgments of people based on what they would face, and that was wrong. No one should make a decision based on what I was able to see. It wasn't fair."
"That's not what I'm talking about. I believe Linda and I were destined to be together. Too many things happened to us for that not to be true. I was thinking you could validate that for us."
"There's one problem with that. I could never see Linda's destiny. I believe it was because she was immune to magic."
"But you could see my destiny."
"That is true, but you're not the one with the issue, she is, and I'm still not sure I understand how that might help you." Enin paused as he considered the entire situation. "Ah, I see. You want me to look into your destiny and tell you that everything is going to be fine between you and Linda, don't you?"
Ryson felt a surge of guilt. In essence, it was exactly what he wanted. He didn't want to admit it, but there was no sense in trying to avoid the knowing gaze of the wizard.
"Yes, is that so bad?"
"No, I understand your situation, but I don't think you understand mine. Even if I could just turn that ability back on, I'm no fortune teller. I saw destined events, moments of critical choices. We have several paths we can follow, but most of them lead to one significant event or another. Whether or not you were, or still are, destined to be with Linda would not necessarily be in the realm of my seeing."
"But you have seen things in the past regarding my destiny. Even though you couldn't see hers, you have to admit they fit together."
"Yes, it has always seemed you and Linda were on convergent paths."
"Then that's what I want her to hear. Maybe you could talk to her..."
At that, Enin held up both hands. He would have done almost anything to help Ryson and Linda, but the delver was asking him to influence someone about their most personal matters.
"Ryson, please do not ask me to get involved in... domestic issues. I am not unsympathetic to you and the problem you seem to face, but this is not the answer. In a way, you're hoping I can influence your wife with my abilities. I know you're not talking about casting a spell over her—we both know that would do no good—but it's almost the same thing. She may not be able to touch the magic, but she has some comprehension over its power. If I start telling her things she can never really validate, it's going to lead you both into trouble. No, this is something you have to work out another way. There's no magical destiny that will solve your problems."
"I don't want you to try to trick her, just tell her what you think."
"What I think? Sometimes I don't know myself. You talk about complications, think of my life for a moment. I know you think I often drift off, but that's not really the truth. At this very moment, my consciousness is trying to separate a half dozen different thought patterns that have me concerned with various levels of magical intricacies. I don't want to make it seem as if the magic assaults me, but it opens my awareness to paths I cannot adequately describe."
Enin paused to consider the delver's own awesome abilities and believed he might have found a way to offer more clarity.
"Think of your own senses," the wizard continued. "What you can see, smell and hear is far beyond my ability. I know there are times you can be overwhelmed by what you sense. That's why you have to go out and explore the world. If you didn't, I believe you'd go insane."
Ryson appreciated the wizard's understanding of his personal situation, but he remained focused on his problems with his wife.
"That's why I thought you might be able to talk to her," Ryson said. "She'll respect what you have to say."
"And what is it exactly I should tell her? You don't want me to trick her, but you want me to try to explain to her how I see things. How am I supposed to explain it to her in a way that will make her lose her reservations? I can't even explain it to myself. Imagine having three dreams while you're awake and you might have an idea of what goes through my mind. Now, you want me to try and give Linda, who is completely immune to magic, an idea of what I think? Do you really expect that's going to make her feel better?"
Ryson had to admit it began to sound more and more confusing.
"I guess not."
Enin tried to reassure his friend.
"I appreciate that you came to me. It shows you have a trust in me. I appreciate that more than I can say, but I also think this is a challenge that you and Linda can overcome by yourselves. If you believe you were meant to be together, then I think deep down she believes it as well, and nothing in this land will be able to break you apart. Destiny is more than some kind of twisted joke meant to force us into trying circumstances. It's also more than a test. It's part of our passage through this existence, a reminder that we are not trapped—or alone—in some random collection of events caused by our own manipulations. Have faith in that."
Once more, Ryson didn't quite understand everything the wizard meant, but he did believe he and Linda belonged together, and perhaps that was why he went to Enin in the first place, to confirm that belief. In a way, he had done so. Enin might not have been willing to come right out and say it, but the delver could sense it. That was what Enin was trying to tell him, and Ryson would help Linda reaffirm it as well.
"I'm glad I came here," Ryson admitted.
"I hope I helped," Enin offered sincerely.
"You did. I'll do what I can. Thanks." It was really all Ryson could say. He felt a little awkward and he tried to redirect the conversation. He realized that he had not yet seen Holli and she was usually not far from the wizard's side.
"Has Holli returned yet?" he asked.
"Not yet," Enin revealed. "She's still assisting the elves that have returned from the dark realm, but she and Jure should be returning quite soon... perhaps any moment."
"You've spoken to her?"
"Not exactly, but my link to her remains strong. I understand what happened."
"So you know about the sorcerer?"
"Ansas? Yes, an interesting individual."
'Interesting' was not quite the word Ryson would have used to describe the sorcerer. 'Treacherous' was much more appropriate.
"What are you going to do abo
ut him?"
"Nothing."
The simple answer surprised the delver.
"You don't think he's dangerous?"
"My opinion is irrelevant. What is important is that he has done nothing that requires my intervention."
Ryson wasn't ready to agree with such an assertion.
"The elves might argue that. He abducted them... used them."
"That may be true, but isn't that an issue for the elves? They haven't asked me to intercede for them."
"If they did?"
"Then I would seek out this Ansas and request he make the proper reconciliation. I am happy to offer protection for anyone that asks me, but I refuse to become the conscience of the land, or its overlord."
"So you'll assist but not meddle," Ryson offered, somewhat beginning to understand Enin's position.
"You put it very well."
"Well, I think you've assisted me today. I'm not sure exactly how you said it, but I do believe Linda and I will be alright. I guess it's just something we have to work out together. At least now we know the truth about having kids without any doubts. We'll just go forward from here."
"That's the best way to move." Enin then felt a small pang of guilt for not willing to go further, for not going to speak to Linda. He made a conciliatory offer. "I don't want you to think I'm unwilling to do more. If Linda wishes to speak to me, I will certainly do so, but I only ask that it be her request, and not yours. There is a difference."
"I understand. I should get back to her."
"Do you want me to send you there?" Enin asked.
"Would you mind? I'd like to get back to her as soon as possible."
"Not at all. I can send you right to your home, or outside the town gate. Which would you prefer?"
"Outside the gate," Ryson stated. "She's probably at work by now and I'd rather not have you just deposit me inside the Borderline Inn. It might cause a stir."
"I would agree. Are you ready?"
Ryson nodded.
"Very well. It was a pleasure to see you again. Come back soon and see Stomps. He likes you."
"I will."
Chapter 22
Upon leaving the town, Linda used the main road that led west out of Burbon and into Dark Spruce. Though it was a fairly wide stone and dirt passage, it had become infrequently traveled over the past several seasons. It was still used as a supply line for well guarded convoys that wished to cross the forest in either direction, but it remained a lonely road normally devoid of travelers.
Once she was well out of range of Burbon, unable to see the tall watch towers that served as part of the town's defensive perimeter, she turned down a nearly invisible foot path. It was a foolish choice, but it led her to where she wanted to go. She rushed brazenly away from the main road, willingly turning her back to the only sign of civilization.
As the trail before her narrowed, so too did her craving to escape any connection to her home. Initially, she welcomed the thicker brush and the ever expanding clusters of trees as they served to form a natural barrier, separated her more and more from any passage back to Burbon. She embraced the isolation.
Linda didn't stagger or stumble through the forest; she stormed across the rough terrain as if it was just one more irritation that added to her fury. As the forest became more of an obstacle, she cursed at the tree trunks that blocked her way, swatted away the branches that scratched her face, and kicked at the roots that forced her to falter. She viciously ripped away at the brush that blocked nearly every path, all the while raging at each individual stalk as if it were a personal nemesis.
If asked, she couldn't reveal her ultimate destination beyond wanting to go deeper into the forest and away from Burbon. She tried to maintain a westerly direction, but eventually, even that became a futile effort as the thick woods closed around her. The surrounding trees left her without any reference point to guide her travels. In all directions, everything looked very much the same, and so, she simply pressed onward into the denser sections of Dark Spruce.
The diminishing path twisted and turned through the trees, broke over both rock and mud, and ultimately disappeared altogether. Eventually, there was nothing for Linda to follow beyond seemingly senseless animal trails through the shaded grounds of the heavy woods.
She had no food, no water, and no weapon for defense. She didn't care. She didn't concern herself over her safety or her ability to survive. Her palpable anger pushed her onward, but it was only partially her own rage that stoked her emotional state.
Most of the fury that swelled inside her came from an external source, and the raw emotion agitated her beyond clear thinking. She felt a certain amount of fear to be sure, fear that might have forced her to turn back from such a dangerous course, but the anger eventually suffocated everything else.
Even as she raged through areas known to be inundated with goblins and shags, she screamed out curses without a single care to whom or what might hear her. Her arms flailed in every direction, doing more than swiping away the surrounding brush and branches. She swung furiously at the empty air, as if assaulting ghosts that only she could see.
If she had been able to see herself, she would have realized she was more than a mad rushing spectacle, she was an attraction for anything within shouting distance. But even if blessed with a moment of clarity, she wouldn't have ceased her ravings.
She did not care about what might discover her, gave no thought to the dangers in the forest. If something wished to attack her, she actually welcomed the challenge. Perhaps it was the foreign emotions that clouded her judgment, or perhaps it was a way to release the tidal wave of fury, but she had no desire to avoid any confrontation.
Her antics did not go undetected... they couldn't for long. Even as the ordinary animal inhabitants of the forest took flight from her path, creatures more inclined, even attracted to fitful outbursts, gave quick notice. They did not regard the raging clamor as a signal to make a hasty retreat. Quite the opposite, they were hostile beasts often looking for a fight.
Initially, clusters of goblins sensed easy prey. The screams were somewhat odd, but also recognizable. They knew of humans, knew they still entered the forest. They had seen convoys passing through the woods, but they were usually well guarded. Goblins would attack supply lines only if desperate or if their packs had reached numbers enough to overwhelm the escorting guards.
Smaller groups of goblins waited for easier prey, and over time, they tended to uncover the hapless adventurer or the lost straggler. Even human scouts that were well trained in surviving the forest often fell to goblins, either through momentary carelessness or some ill-timed misfortune that left them unprepared and on indefensible ground.
As for Linda, several goblins watched her intently, even if they couldn't understand her intentions. She stood out like a burning arrow sailing across an open night sky. Her actions were beyond lunacy. They were suicidal.
Something beyond her rage, however, gave the goblins pause, kept them from immediately falling upon the deranged human screaming so near their meager camps. Even as the female called out in anger and disgust, they sensed a confrontation should be avoided, many even raced away.
It was not her insane rage, and certainly not her physical presence that raised the goblin anxiety. It was not even her immunity to magic. In fact, that was something they might have sensed, and if so, would have attacked as a dangerous anomaly.
Immunity to magic was not something dark creatures could accept or even understand. When the land was without magic, they were shut out from Uton, forced to remain in the dark realm. Magic was the key to escaping the desperate breeding grounds of their origin. The total absence of magic was something dangerous to them, something they abhorred.
They never got close enough to sense Linda's magical immunity for there was a haze of another sort drifting off of the cursing human. Goblins were not adept in forms of spell casting, and nearly all lacked sensible judgment, but they instinctively understood power.
The woman might have been a vulnerable target, an easy victim for even a few goblins with paltry weapons, but every goblin could feel the obvious force that seemed to drip off the woman like water from melting icicles. And so, each diminutive fiend gave her a wide berth and let her pass further into the forest without incident.
With a protective emanation of which she was not even aware, Linda continued her unyielding march through Dark Spruce. She was oblivious to the goblins. If she had noticed them, she might have even challenged them. She also failed to notice the tracks of a much larger beast, a creature that had previously claimed the territory she carelessly invaded.
The shag heard the human long before it spotted her. At first, the clamor annoyed the monster. It wondered if it was yet one more predator trying to stake a claim to its lands. Such instances had increased over the past few days, and the creature was growing weary of the conflict.
Though not terribly intelligent and certainly not passive, the beast had been able to avoid such clashes in the past. It had done so due to its fortune in finding a territory frequented by elves. The shag had learned to coexist with the elves, mostly by avoiding the slender and nimble tree walkers, but when the elves mysteriously abandoned the area, other monsters brazenly filled the gap.
Rather than avoid the encroaching dark creatures as it had done with the elves, the beast decided to fight them off. The river rogues were the most difficult, but even the larger goblin packs were becoming a nuisance. The new invader, one that was exceedingly loud, was another such irritation.
Upon closing in on Linda, the fur laden beast also sensed an ominous aura spilling out from the woman. It smelled of something the monster could not quite identify—not death, not even evil—but something that offered a message of its own. There was nothing truly sinister about the interloper, but there was something around her that exuded more than just danger. It was a warning, one the large shag could not dismiss.