by R D Wolfe
Thrust. Parry. Sidestep. Lunge. He felt in absolute command of each muscle. He clashed with imaginary foes, blocked arrows with a non-existent shield, ducked powerful blows, and pushed himself to his limit by holding positions until he had perfected them. He relished the physical and mental challenge. The scene within his mind allowed him to fell foe after foe. Lost within his imagined battle, Darien didn’t notice the group surrounding him.
Centaurs had gathered to watch the dance Darien was spinning. After a few more minutes of the make-believe battle, he twirled and sheathed his sword, ending the fight. He opened his eyes to find the circle of centaurs silently watching him. His heart pounded for a few beats before the small crowd began to applaud, and he went red with embarrassment. No one other than Master Whyn had ever seen Darien do his morning rituals. Suppressing the emotion, Darien sheepishly waved and walked back in the direction of Chorrun’s hut.
When he arrived, Chorrun was outside, holding the reins of a horse. Packs hung off of the simple saddle on its back, all bulging with supplies that Darien could not identify.
“Hello again, are you ready to leave?” Chorrun asked, his voice light and chipper.
Darien nodded and motioned towards the horse. “What’s that for?”
“You, of course,” Chorrun chuckled. “You didn’t think you would walk all the way to Farkland Reach, did you?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought about it.” Darien stood dumb for a moment. “How far is this place we’re going to again?”
“The ride to Farkland Reach is about nine or ten days north from here. That is, if we ride leisurely. It’s possible to get there faster, but there’s no need to push the horse or ourselves. Given that we have four legs, and that you’ll be traveling with myself and two other centaurs, we thought it to be best to lend you one of our horses to ride.”
Putting aside the strangeness Darien experienced at the thought of a centaur owning a horse, Darien thanked Chorrun and made his way inside as the centaur continued to prepare for their departure. A wave of new emotions rush over him. He wasn’t looking forward to the traveling from place to place, especially since he had lived his whole life up to this point entirely within the walls of the Academy. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Darien tried to calm his mind. He needed to take this one day at a time. Taking a few calming breaths, he stood and looked around the room. What did he need to take with him? What did he even have?
Darien began to pack up his bedroll, removing the animal hide and rolling it as tight as he could before tying it together with the leather straps attached to the ends. With that, he tucked it under his arm and returned to the morning sun outside. Chorrun handed Darien a pack of soft and pliable clothes, similar to those he had put on earlier. Searching the pack, he found two other sets of pants, a second shirt, and a set of gloves. Tying the strings of the pack, he shouldered it and looked back towards Chorrun.
“Back home, I had a few other things I wore when I fought sometimes. Where could I find those? How could I get some money to pay for them?”
“Pay?” Chorrun laughed. “You won’t pay for a thing while you’re in Olympus, at least not in our village, and I’m sure not in Farkland Reach. Tell me, what do you need?”
Darien considered, what items did he really want to carry around with him? Who knew what he would have to face after all? He considered the possibilities. If there were centaurs in this world, could there also be trolls? Dragons? Mermaids? That thought made him smile a bit, but the idea of Kara’s reaction to him thinking about mermaids dashed it away.
“I’d like a shield about as wide as my arm, bracers, a hauberk, and heavy leather greaves.” Darien paused. “If you have them?”
After a brief silence, Chorrun nodded.
“I think we can supply you with most of that, save for the greaves. Our people do not use that sort of armor and so we do not have any in our village. However, I believe we have a hauberk that would suit you. I’m sure the king of Farkland Reach will be able to supply you with the greaves. They have some of the best smiths and craftsman in all of Olympus. If they don’t have what you need, I’m sure they could make it for you.”
Chorrun called out to another centaur, who Darien learned was named Jodin. Chorrun spoke to Jodin before the younger centaur turned and cantered away. Darien approached his horse and realized that he had never ridden a horse before. Despite their medieval sports at The Academy, horsemanship was never part of the curriculum. Darien made a mental note to talk with Master Whyn about that when he got back.
Jodin returned with the supplies and handed them to Darien, who thanked him, feeling a bit guilty about getting all of the supplies for free. The hauberk slipped over his head and covered his thighs about halfway down. It was light in weight, and Darien could see the gaps in the mail were smaller than any he had seen before. The craftsmanship was impeccable; the fit wasn’t perfect, but it was more than adequate. There was no hood attached, but he could always get a coif or a helm if he thought it would be necessary. He stepped back to examine his mount. The horse’s setup looked chaotic and clunky, but Darien didn’t think it would cause any problems as far as movement for the animal. He figured that, over time, he could afford to become more organized. There were sure to be nights that would spare him plenty of free time for such a task. Darien drew his sword to test its placement on his hip. It felt fluid and familiar.
Chorrun motioned for Darien to mount his horse. Darien placed his foot in the stirrup as he had seen others do and attempted to pull himself up. The muscle coordination he had was not what he needed to get into a saddle. The movements were foreign to him, and he fell to the ground, catching himself on his backside. Darien pulled himself back up, cheeks stinging with embarrassment. His second attempt was successful, and he found himself atop the horse at last.
“Are you ready to begin the journey to Farkland Reach?” Chorrun asked the small group . Darien and the two accompanying centaurs nodded. “Then off we go.”
They rode single file, Darien third in line, out of Taitron and towards Farkland Reach. The journey had begun.
Chapter 6: The Capture
Darien could describe their first day of travel as quiet and beautiful. He had watched the landscape change from deep forests to wide meadows, as creeks gurgled beside the lightly worn road they trod upon. They didn’t come across any other travelers, but the state of the road suggested that trade and travel was fairly consistent along this route.
It didn’t take long for Darien to feel comfortable in the saddle. The horse moved awkwardly compared to what he was used to, and his hips did not want to follow the same motions.
The four travelers journeyed silently on, with Chorrun leading, Jodin behind him, and a new centaur called Lotry in the back of the line. Darien found himself to be a little disappointed he didn’t have a chance to be nearer the front with Chorrun so that they might talk some more about the world, though he wondered how much the elder centaur would willingly share, with the other two still in earshot.
Just as the sun had begun to touch the horizon, Chorrun brought the troupe to a halt.
“I think it best that we make camp,” he called out.
Chorrun led them off the path and through the tall grasses to the right of the trail until they found a small depression in the landscape, hidden from the view of any travelers who might happen to pass. Everyone started to unburden themselves of their loads. Darien’s legs had been in an unusual position for most of the afternoon, and as he dismounted, he could feel his muscles screaming as they stretched for the first time in hours. He suppressed a cry of discomfort as he planted his feet on the ground.
Looking at the straps and belts that connected the saddle to his horse, Darien began to fumble around with them. The animal let out a noise, clearly unsatisfied with his riders’ inability to relieve him of the burden. After several more minutes of uncoordinated effort, the saddle finally fell to the ground, and Darien laid the blanket that had sat under it out to dry.
He tied the horse off to a nearby tree, leaving it to graze before returning to the others, who were already gathered around a warm fire. Taking a seat alongside them, he turned his attention to the sky, watching as the foreign constellations framed the alien moon rising above the horizon.
“Is this place so different from your home?” Jodin asked.
“It’s different from where I grew up,” Darien shrugged. “I’m sure there’s places that are like this, it’s just that there’s nothing familiar here. Not even the stars.”
“What is the rest of your world like outside your home?” Lotry inquired.
What was Earth like? He had told Torin about it just the day before, but now he found it difficult to find the right words. He hadn’t really stopped to consider the experience of living on the planet. He hadn’t seen much of the world as it was, but in his studies, he had learned enough about it.
“Earth is…” Darien paused, unsure how to continue. “It’s got huge cities, and completely empty areas. There are places with tons of people, millions even, and places with no people at all. There are deserts, oceans, beaches, mountains… It has everything.”
“Have you traveled all of its lands?” Jodin asked curiously.
“No,” Darien chuckled sadly. “I haven’t seen much of it at all. I’ve spent most of my life at The Academy. I never really left there.”
Darien’s mind wandered to the plans he and Kara had for traveling the world together, and he winced at the painful memory. He caught Chorrun looking sharply at him before continuing his work on their meal over the heat of the fire. If the others asked too many questions, the truth of his ignorance might slip out of him.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
“What’s the Academy?” Jodin asked, clearly taking a great interest.
“Well…” Darien hesitated. “It’s a school, where we learn how to fight, and where we study… basically everything.”
“You went to this Academy, then, to prepare you for your time here in Olympus?” Lotry asked.
“Yeah, you could say that I guess.”
The camp fell silent again, and Darien saw Chorrun relax a little as the conversation died off.
A few moments later, Chorrun began to pass around bowls filled with the hot soup he had prepared. They all ate in silence. Darien hadn’t realized how hungry the day’s travel had made him. Comforted by the hot meal and the warmth of the fire, he began to feel drowsy. Apparently, the others were too, and he followed the example of the centaurs, who had begun to stretch out flat on the ground. He laid out his bedroll and collapsed upon it, facing the crackling fire. Beyond the flames, he watched as a shooting star crossed the sky. Admiring the beauty and strangeness of the world above him, he quickly drifted off to sleep, wondering if Kara was looking up at the same night sky he was, just as they had in the arena a few days before.
The next morning, Darien was the first one awake. He looked over to see that the horse was still nearby, and stretching his arms out wide, he began preparing himself for the day’s ride. Walking over to the stream beside the road, he splashed his face and rinsed out his mouth. The water tasted sweet and clean. Since he didn’t have all of his normal toiletries, he’d have to make do until he could find another way to keep up his personal hygiene. Dipping his head in the water and running his hands through his hair, Darien stood up, feeling refreshed and awake.
Darien returned to the camp, seeing the three centaurs clean up the remnants of the fire.
“Good morning,” Darien greeted them brightly, feeling happier than he expected he would, the cool water of the stream making him feel unusually alert.
“Good day, Darien,” Chorrun yawned, spreading the ashes of their fire across the ground, dispersing them into the landscape.
Darien walked over to his horse, and with Lotry’s help, he brushed and re-saddled the steed. Darien’s legs were still sore from the previous day’s ride, but he refused to complain as he took his place in the saddle.
On this leg of the journey, Darien found himself riding next to Chorrun, while Jodin and Lotry followed behind, talking between themselves, giving Darien the opportunity he was waiting for to ask Chorrun more questions.
“Chorrun?” Darien paused. He didn’t want to upset the centaur by asking questions with others so close but decided that this might be his only chance before meeting up with the others. “I have some questions I was hoping you could answer for me. There’s still so much I don’t know about what’s happening.”
The centaur turned his soft piercing eyes to look at Darien but remained quiet as they continued walking. It took several moments before he replied.
“Ask your questions. I will do everything I can to aide you to toward Olympus.”
Where to start?
“What are these four weapons we’re supposed to go get? Why can’t we just go straight to Olympus right away? Do we have to use those weapons against Cyprin? Are they magic? I mean, you said that Cyprin stole all the magic when he rose to power, but they were there when the last spell was cast, so what are they?”
The questions poured out of him.
Chorrun laughed heartily, making Darien look back to see that Jodin was looking curiously at the pair of them.
“You are full of questions, aren’t you?” Chorrun pushed back another chuckle. “Though I suppose you’re right to ask, given our situation. The four weapons, are those that the first Four, held at the moment it was cast. Those without the weapons who have tried to open the gates to the mountain, or even climb it, have all failed. Those who survived were disfigured by coming into contact with the dark magic. Of the things we know about the mountain, one of them is that the weapons act as some kind of key, breaking the seal and allowing the Four to proceed safely.”
“How can that be?” Darien asked. “You said there wasn’t any magic left.”
“More questions!” Chorrun teased. “That isn’t known to anyone that I’ve ever met, or in any of the histories I’ve ever read.” Chorrun glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were not being overheard before lowering his tone. “As to what the weapons are, only the Four have seen all of the weapons together since the original spell was cast, but we do know of a sword, which I take it you favor,” Chorrun motioned to the sword belt on Darien’s hip. “I only learned of the sword on my last journey to Farkland Reach, when the King, who is a scholar of the cycles himself, told me what it was. The last weapon you’ll acquire is said to be in the ruins of Zanarchin at the base of the mountain, but no one outside of the Four have ever seen it.”
Pausing, Chorrun withdrew his water pouch, drank, and offered it to Darien, who declined.
“As for the rest,” Chorrun continued, swallowing another mouthful of water, “they are closely guarded secrets by the cities who hold them until the Four come to retrieve them. Even after all this time, we keep the threat of Cyprin’s return fresh in our minds. Doing otherwise could result in his return. Besides, there are some who think it would be better to free Cyprin. The weapons must be kept safe from them at all costs. Whether or not they contain any magic, I do not know. There is no mention of them possessing any magical properties, save for allowing safe passage to the mountain.”
“So, they’re just old weapons?”
“Just old weapons?” Chorrun’s eyes widened. “These ‘old weapons’ you speak of are the last hope for your world and mine. They have allowed the Four access to Olympus for millennia. They are far more than ancient relics! You’d do well to remember that.”
“I’m sorry,” Darien said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Chorrun glowered at Darien for another moment before his expression softened. “I’m sorry. The possibility of Cyprin coming down from the mountain is something that we all fear from the time we’re children. Each generation is tasked with ensuring that he is never freed. No cycle has ever failed to imprison him, but some think Cyprin grows stronger each time, finding new ways to break free from his bin
dings. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s only a matter of time before…” Chorrun trailed off, leaving the fear unsaid.
Their conversation lapsed into silence as they continued past the rolling hills and watched as the stream widened into a river, which the group passed over on a simply constructed stone bridge.
“This is the Hiranor River,” Chorrun answered Darien’s unspoken question. “It is the only river in our world that travels west to east, marking the border between Altruis, and the land of Hiranor, whose capital is Farkland Reach.”
Darien nodded.
“No more questions this time?” Chorrun asked, humor tinging the friendly accent.
“No, that was pretty straightforward,” Darien laughed.
A few moments passed before Darien did finally think of another question.
“How is it possible we can understand each other? This is a whole different planet, right? I couldn’t read anything on that map, so we must have a different language. How can I understand what you’re saying?”
“That is part of the magic of the transitions,” Chorrun explained. “It’s always been that we can understand the people of the world we travel to. All the people of Olympus speak the same language, Olveery is the name. While you’re here, you should have no problems understanding anyone you meet thanks to the magic. It’s one of only a handful of examples of magic outside of the mountain.”
“What is Farkland Reach like?” Darien continued, more questions coming to mind the further they rode. “And will the others be there by the time we arrive?”
Chorrun thought for a few seconds before answering. “As far as the other members of the Four, they should arrive around the time we do. That is assuming the histories are all accurate. As for the city, I’ve only been there twice myself, and on one of those visits, I was very young, so I don’t recall much from that time. On my last visit, I was on the outer edge of the city, near the walls, so my experience is limited.”