Odder- The Blood Curse

by Nathaniel Red

  Odder squeezed his eyes shut, and he tried to quiet his breathing. The stench of putrid spoiled milk made him cringe. After a period of silence, he peeked to find the beast drifting out the back door. Several guards, with swords drawn, charged into the room and followed the creature into the alleyway.

  The captain entered and bared his teeth. “You again.”

  Odder shrugged, unsure whether being recognized was good or bad news at this point.

  “Yes.” He dusted the debris off his clothes while thinking of a quick explanation. “I thought the Magicsmith’s shop would be a safe place to hide.”

  “Our seeker tracked the goblin here.” The captain pointed at the body. “And what do I find? A dead rotting corpse with no one around but a vekart servant carrying around a wooden toy.

  Odder cringed. “It wasn’t me.”

  The guard’s nostrils flared, and he grabbed a fistful of Odder’s cloak.

  “Strange. The stench of this lifeless evil monster fills the room, and you - the most helpless elf in the township – stands here without a scratch. How does that happen?” He shook him. “Tell me what you know, servant! Did you bring this goblin here?”

  “I don’t know anything!” Odder protested, twisting to escape the captain’s constraint. “I don’t know how it got here!”

  A guardsman ran into the room. “Sir, the seeker is circling the shop. I do not believe there is another threat.”

  The captain released his grip on Odder with an unnecessary shove. “Guard, confirm we are secure with the fairies then announce the area safe.” He glared at Odder. “Take this outcast to the streets. We will get answers.”

  CHAPTER 6

  THE DRAGON TREE

  Seven horn blasts echoed through the city, and like the warmth of the sun awakening a glacier, the townsfolk peeked through their shutters, cracked open their doors, and ventured back into the streets, but with considerable caution. Sentries stood at every corner assuring the folks of their safety. Within a short time, the town market returned to its beehive-like operations as if nothing happened, but with a new tension underlying its usual buzz of voices. No longer a rumor, the goblin menace created uncertainty and fear in everyone’s mind. The weapon and armor merchants reveled in their diligence to help the lines of townsfolk.

  Odder laid face down on the cold ground with his arms tied to his ankles. His face pinned between the cobblestone and the bottom of the captain’s boot. The smell of old leather, and what he hoped was cabbage, filled his nostrils. The rest of the guards stood laughing.

  “Were you conspiring with the goblin?” the captain asked. “I know you didn’t kill it so who did?”

  “I dow… woa…”

  The captain removed his foothold and knelt beside him. He leaned in close and whispered into Odder’s ear. “I don’t like you. I hate what you are, a blemish on the elven race.”

  He pulled on the rope, lifting Odder’s arms.

  Pain pierced Odder’s shoulders at their sockets. He cried out as his body contorted from side to side.

  The captain climbed to his feet, bringing Odder with him. “You will rot in the castle prison,” he announced.

  The other guards stopped laughing at once and stood at attention. The captain’s expression sharpened, and his eyebrow climbed toward his receding hairline.

  “Sir, the Prince,” a sentry murmured.

  The captain sneered. “Perfect. My prize should please the Prince.”

  The other guards looked less confident.

  Destin and several of his royal guards approached all riding on black steeds of impressive size – the prince’s bigger than the rest.

  The captain bowed. “My lord. The goblin is dead.” He gestured toward Odder. “Its body lay rotting at the magicsmith’s where we found your servant standing over the corpse, unharmed.” He pulled tight on the rope.

  Odder clenched his teeth but thought he would die before whimpering in front of his prince.

  “I am taking him in for questioning.”

  The Prince and his guards dismounted, handing the reins to the other guards. “What has he told you?”

  “Nothing yet my lord,” the captain replied, displeasure etched into his face.

  “Cut him free. I will have a word with him, in private.”

  “But my lord –”

  “Is there a problem?”

  The captain’s mouth twitched, but he slashed the bindings without another word.

  The Prince and Odder walked back toward the shop, passing a group of healers tending to Aimma and the magicsmith wizards. She gave Odder a concerned look, but he peered away and rubbed his wrists.

  “I don’t know anything about the goblin, I promise,” Odder muttered.

  Although this wasn’t strictly true, he had to admit he didn’t know the details. He knew only what Serra told him. Somehow, he didn’t think the prince would take a dark elf’s opinion kindly.

  Destin stopped and stared at his servant with disappointment. “What did you see?”

  Odder’s breathing became shallow. He was never a good liar, so he avoided the practice. Something compelled him to protect Serra. He dropped his eyes.

  “Nothing my lord. I was seeking safety.”

  The Prince turned and let out a long sigh. “Do you expect me to believe you entered the magicsmith’s’ shop, avoided the widow spider’s trap, found a dead goblin, and witnessed nothing?” His eyebrows came together, and he lowered his voice. “Why are you lying to me? Have you forgotten who I am?”

  Sweat formed on Odder’s brow. His vision blurred.

  He knows everything.

  Odder cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “I’m sorry my lord. I spoke out of fear. I spotted you entering the shop, and I followed.”

  Destin’s expression hardened. “Yes.” He paused and pursed his lips. “I needed to pick up a project from the magicsmith’s. I entered and avoided the trap by running into the backroom where the goblin hid. I quickly made an end to him before he reacted, and I fled through the back door.”

  Odder raised his brow. “Why didn’t you alert the guards?” He regretted questioning his master once his words left his lips.

  Instead of the expected reprimand, the Prince held a fist over his mouth for a moment, as if he didn’t like the taste of the words on his tongue. “I…I went to tell the King.”

  Odder stepped back, distrusting the answer, but Destin seized his arm.

  “Do not tell this to anyone,” Destin said, his voice unyielding like an old twisted pine.

  Odder fell back in surprise. The prince never laid hands on him in such fierce desperation. “Ye… yes, my lord. Of course.”

  The Prince escorted his servant back to the captain. “He is free to go.”

  The captain frowned, disbelief painted on his face. “My lord? Shouldn’t I bring him in for questioning?”

  “He knows nothing. I questioned him myself.” The Prince turned, his voice lowered to almost a mutter. “Just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Isn’t that right Odder?”

  “Yes, my lord.” The words savored of bitterness.

  The captain bowed his head, hiding his scowl. “As you wish, my lord.”

  Destin accompanied Odder to the end of the road. “I didn’t obtain my package at the wizard shop,” He patted him on the back, “So I’ll need you to retrieve it once I confirm its location. Return to my chambers within an hour.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  ***

  Seven Houses ruled in Arcaina, and each House focused their disciplines on the unique magic essence of their kingdom. The House of Elestus drew their magic from the earth to create magnificent feats of architecture, engineering, and weapons.

  Odder passed many marble monuments and sculptures of famous elves while trying to make sense of what happened. He rested at a stone bench by the road and rubbed his legs when a rustling in the bushes ahead caught his attention.

  He jumped to his feet and reached for the wooden s
word. “Who’s there?” He tapped his sword on the ground in hopes to scare off any beasts.

  “Ta-dah!” Declared an energetic, dancing gnome. “It is I, Finkle Tonk.” He skipped toward Odder, waving.

  “Tonk, you scared the wits out of me… and what are you wearing?”

  Finkle froze. “What, you do not like my new hat?”

  “It’s ridiculous and looks like a red bucket on your head. Is that the fez or the chullo?”

  “It’s the fez.” The gnome turned and pouted. “The merchant said it’s trendy in far-off lands.”

  “And what purpose does the silly tassel serve?”

  The gnome lifted his nose in the air. “Obviously, you can’t appreciate a sophisticated style.”

  Odder laughed, surprising himself. “Thanks, friend. You do know how to bring a smile to my face.” He flicked the hat’s tassel. “You know I’m messing with you.”

  Finkle stared expressionless then laughed. “I knew it all the time.”

  “So where did you go?” Odder asked. “We were supposed to meet.”

  “I purchased my fez and headed to the archives.” He straightened his hat. “Then the warning horns sounded, everyone ran for shelter, and I ran into the safest place of all – the bushes.”

  “Bushes?”

  “A gnome’s favorite hiding place,” Finkle grinned. “Did you stay in the archives?”

  “No, but I have some grim news.”

  The gnome rubbed his hands together, an eager gleam in his eyes. “Tell me, tell me.”

  Odder second-guessed his decision to tell Finkle about his curse. “The story’s too long. How about after I meet up with my master.”

  “Tell me on the way to the King’s garden then.” The gnome tugged at Odder’s pant leg. “It’s on the way.”

  Odder agreed but only spoke of the events happening after he left the archives.

  ***

  “Amazing. I can’t believe I missed the dark vixen again – and the Prince in the magicsmith’s shop seems all too suspicious.” Finkle pointed to the garden’s gates. “Come, tell Momma Tonk about it?”

  Odder gazed at the trail going into the garden. The sweet fragrance intoxicated his senses, but he shook his head to clear its effect.

  “Um… No, I’d better not. I have to meet the Prince remember?”

  “Come on, laddy.” The gnome yanked on the elf. “I’ll race you to the gate. If I win, you say hi to momma.”

  Odder crossed his arms. The odds are in my favor. He’s got short stubby legs, and I’m fast.

  He held out his hand. “And if I win, I get your fez.”

  “Deal,” said Finkle, chuckling.

  “Alright, on three.” Odder propped into a sprinting pose, while Finkle clenched his fists and scratched his right foot on the ground like a prairie beast.

  “One… two…” Odder’s muscles tightened. “Three . . .”

  He sprinted, kicking dirt into the tiny gnome’s face. Before reaching the garden’s gate, Odder glanced back.

  Why is Finkle still standing there? He must not like his new hat.

  As he turned back, he smashed into a wall of mud. Smush! The magic soil trapped him like a fly in a web.

  Finkle burst into laughter and strutted, as much as a gnome could strut, to the gate. “You are indeed fast for an elf,” he said, passing Odder, “But not faster than magic.” He somersaulted and tagged the gate. “I win.”

  “Mmmm…”

  The gnome held a hand to his ear. “What’s that you say? You underestimated your gnome friend again?”

  “MMMM!”

  “Alright, calm down. Once again your best friend Finkle is here to save you.”

  The gnome found a nearby branch, walked up behind the trapped elf, and whispered several magic words. The branch stretched out like the bony hand of an undead beast, grabbed Odder by his collar, and with two yanks pulled him free of the muck. The mud disintegrated after his release.

  “Very funny,” Odder gasped. “Now look at me – I’m filthy.” Odder pounded his clothes, knocking off only a small portion of the dirt and mud. “You cheated!” He accused. “The wager was a race to the gate, not including magic.”

  Finkle used the branch to point at Odder. “You never said magic was off limits, besides everyone uses magic –”

  “Yes – except me.” Odder crossed his arms. “Fine, I’ll visit. But I can’t stay long.”

  The two approached the garden’s gate. A beam of sunlight broke free from the overcast clouds and lit up the ten-foot, golden entryway. Odder squinted but admired its radiance. The doors creaked open revealing a flourishing collection of stunning exotic plants, trees, and flowers surrounded by small ponds and streams. The path split into various directions creating a complicated labyrinth. Those not familiar with the maze might spend days wandering the acreages and never finding the gardens prized possession.

  “It’s been awhile since I’ve been to the garden.” Odder closed his eyes and leaned over to smell a fragrant flower the size of a gangusfruit. “Do the sprites still dart around the Dragon Tree?”

  Several red leaves lifted back from the flower to reveal an ornate cluster of purple petals with a dozen pink filaments, jutting out to expose white pads on the ends. The fibers moved like the delicate tentacles of a noodlefish in a slow current and patted Odder on the nose and cheek.

  “Yes, those nuisances still flutter around like insects.” The gnome caressed the bulb. “This flower is called a loving fuchsia. One of my favorites, I think it likes you.”

  “I think so too,” Odder said, enjoying the flowery kisses. “I’ve always liked the sprites. Those creatures reminded me of tiny fairies that live in the forests, whisking around without a care in the world.”

  “More like buzzing dragonflies. They get in my way with their annoying sparkles.”

  “Well, I like them just the same. What about the Dragon Tree, I thought you cherished it?”

  “I used to, but the tree’s looking bad nowadays. We gnomes have given up on it.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Odder pulled himself away from the fuchsia.

  “Can’t figure it out - seems to be dying.” Finkle continued down the trail. “You can see for yourself. We’ll walk past it.”

  Odder and Finkle paused on a bridge to spot fish swimming underneath. Odder rolled up his pants and sat on the edge to kick the water.

  “Do you remember the legend? The Dragon Tree legend?” Odder asked.

  “Sure.” Finkle plopped down next to him, his short legs far from reaching the water. “Momma used to tell us the tale before sleep.”

  “I didn’t have a mother to tell me the story.” Odder sighed. “I’ve only heard pieces from other elves.

  The gnome pursed his lips. “Well, you know I’m a great storyteller. I can tell you the legend of The Dragon Tree right now.”

  Odder’s face brightened until the sun’s rays reminded him of his duties. “No, I don’t have time anyway.”

  “Nonsense.” The gnome rolled like a ball onto his back, then back to his feet. “There’s plenty of time.” He pulled up his sleeves and slapped his face several times. His expression became cold, and he spoke in a deep low tone. “Legend has it the Divine Spirit breathed life into the material realm. A wicked creature from –”

  “Creature? Don’t you mean wicked demon?”

  Finkle snarled and pointed a finger at him. “I’m in character. Don’t interrupt.” He cleared his throat. “A wicked demon from the spirit realm became jealous of the righteous creatures in this world. The jealousy raged inside of him until he became obsessed with destroying what the Divine Spirit created. He searched for a passage between the two universes and discovered a doorway which allowed him to cross realms. A fierce battle raged for centuries as the demon nearly destroyed all the creatures of Arcaina; except for the brave gnomes who mounted an attack and killed the demon -”

  Odder slapped his forehead. “Come on, really?”

  The gnome
shrugged. “It could have happened.”

  Odder gave him a blank stare.

  “Fine,” said Finkle, shaking his head and making a show of getting back into character. He swung his fists in the air as if to hit an invisible opponent. “The creatures of the land united to defend their world severely wounded the demon and chased him into the Mountains of Adeldus. The evil spirit searched for shelter to rest and heal. Finding a giant tree, it laid against its bark and rested. While the demon slept, the tree slowly wrapped its roots around the creature, and trapped the evil within its intertwined trunks, forever imprisoned until the end of days.”

  Odder clapped. “Well told.”

  Finkle threw back his tassel and bowed.

  “So, do you think the demon is still in the tree?” Odder asked, removing his feet from the water and standing up.

  Finkle laughed. “No, it’s just a fable.”

  “Like the elf without magic is just a fable?”

  The gnome’s expression turned flat like cut stone.

  “Ah, I’m joking with you,” Odder said.

  “Not funny, and didn’t you say you were in a hurry?”

  Odder searched for the placement of the sun. “You’re right. I don’t have much time left.”

  “Follow me. We’re close.”

  Finkle ran down the path without waiting for a response.

  “Finkle!” Odder called. “I really shouldn’t – I have to go.”

  The gnome neither responded nor turned around. Odder sighed but followed Finkle despite knowing the consequence of displeasing his master. It took only moments to overtake the gnome, who had slowed to a walk, as they approached a massive tree. Enormous roots twisted across the ground and entered the soil at various areas and angles. Several sprites traveled along the windy current. Odder stepped next to the gnome who stood gazing up at the thirty-foot-high Dragon Tree. The thick of the trunk consisted of smaller branches woven together like a basket and growing upward into a dense umbrella-shaped canopy of dead branches. Once filled with beautiful crimson leaves, the Dragon Tree was the only object of interest adorning the gray granite landscape, and the smooth, reddish bark gave off an aroma of sweet pepper mixed with cinnamon.