“We’ve stayed hidden from you folk for many years… what’s a hundred more?”
“You don’t get it,” Estair chimed in on Alastar’s side. “This isn’t about surviving this lifetime, it’s about having a world worth living in for generations to come.” She leaned forward, her voice crisp and full of determination. “There was a time before the Age of Madness, or before that, who knows, when these ruins around us were real. There was civilization and, I’d be willing to bet, rule of law. Peace. Prosperity. Call me idealistic, but dammit, I want that and more.”
“You’re damn right I’ll call you idealistic and then some,” Luke spat back. “That’s a dream! All of that technology stuff is beyond us. People who lived long ago and drove things called buses and lived in buildings called Wallma, or whatever the hell those buildings were for, but not anymore. We get by with what we can, because it’s the only option available.”
“By the spirits,” Estair stood now, her voice rising. “Do you hear yourself? It’s only been slightly more than fifty years since the end of the Age of Madness. That’s nothing! And how far have we recovered to date? We have homes, castles even. We’ve come so far in our understanding of magic, magic I might remind you, that our grandparents claim to have had no knowledge about. Where is that coming from, huh? Nowhere? Or, is it just possible, that we’re meant for bigger things?”
Luke simply stared back at her, along with the others, and finally, Estair realized this. She cleared her throat, glanced around, and sat.
“Sorry,” she said. “I just… get so worked up over this.”
“You’re not kidding,” Alastar said, then stiffened as she leaned against his shoulder.
“When the time comes, you’ll all know what to do.” She wrapped an arm around his waist and, after a moment, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
A couple of the others started mumbling about going to bed and getting some rest, but Alastar and Estair sat there like that, staring into the flames and watching them dance.
He couldn’t imagine how he’d survived this long in life without feeling this sensation of a woman in his arms. But no, it wouldn’t have done to have just any woman in his arms. This woman was what made the difference.
He felt her squeeze gently and then noticed her nodding off, and he, too, felt his eyelids growing heavy again. Even though he’d slept all afternoon and part of the evening, he could still sleep more, he was certain.
Through a sleepy haze, he watched the embers flare red and yellow, then turn to black. Except for one little flame that danced at the fire’s edge.
A flame with a small face, like a gentle woman, looking up at him, smiling.
The fairy!
He darted up, almost knocking Estair over, but she was up a moment later, and there they both were, shouting in excitement.
“The fairy!” he said.
“The spirit,” she shouted. “It’s real.”
“What’s all this?” Donnon asked, running from the hut, followed closely by Gordon. “Holy…”
“It’s time,” Alastar said. “We must gear up and leave immediately.”
The next few minutes were a chaotic dash to throw all their belongings together, while the fairy danced around Alastar, constantly trying to run off, but being pulled back to him as if by an invisible rope.
Gordon led them to the town armory, where Donnon found himself a great battle-ax, Estair chose fighting knives and a bow and arrow, and Gordon took a broadsword.
“I’m not sure you want it,” Gordon said, kneeling to move a rabbit skin cloak from a trunk. When he opened the trunk, there was a set of nearly pristine paladin armor, complete with a cloak. “As you can guess, it wasn’t given to us, so if you can get over the means in which we acquired it, it’s yours.”
“Do you think it wise to travel the lands as a paladin?” Alastar asked.
The others hesitated, looking at each other.
“It might get us out of a tight spot,” Estair offered. “If nothing else.”
“The remnant might be more intimidated by it,” Donnon said, “and the paladins might think twice about attacking if they see one of their own.”
Alastar commenced with putting on the armor. He glanced over at the fairy and nodded, then said to the others, “Come, enough time has been wasted. We must be on the move.”
The others agreed, and so they walked out in pairs, heading for the gates. Before they could reach them, though, Layla strode out with four horses. Alastar couldn’t believe his eyes. He had seen paintings of great knights riding horses, heard tales of the great animals, but they were so rare, he had never seen one in real life.
“Something tells me your mission is more than just to rescue your sister and your daughter,” Layla said, addressing Alastar and Donnon in turn. “The water spirits do more than bring us our magic, and at night, I hear their whispers. What you four set out to achieve will be of great service to this world, and my friends here,” she patted the flank of the nearest horse, “would like to do their part.”
“Where did you even get them?” Alastar asked, unable to hide the awe in his voice.
“The clan leaders brought them, and each agrees this is the time. We don’t know what we’re up against or what can be achieved here, but we know the time for action is now.”
“Then we promise not to fail you,” Alastar said. He couldn’t help but notice the amused smile from the woman, so added, “What is it?”
“You’ve never ridden, I assume?”
“Aye, that’s correct.”
“You’re going to be glad you’re a healer,” she said with a chuckle.
“It can’t be that hard.”
Donnon clasped him on the shoulder. “Just do as I do, and you’ll be fine.”
“You know how to ride?” He looked from him to the others, who were staring at him with a mixture of humor and pity. “You all know?”
“If you weren’t on our side, we’d have to kill you for letting you in on this,” Estair said. “The clans have been trying to breed horses, secretly teaching the warriors from each clan how to ride so that, if and when the time comes, we can ride against our enemies.”
“Meaning me and mine.”
She nodded slightly. “Though, you’re excluded from the equation now, thankfully.”
He could feel the rage boiling up inside him as if this was a personal insult, a secret held from him and revealed in a moment of betrayal. But deep down he knew it was really a worry for the men he had called brothers and a fear of riding these animals that he hadn’t known still existed.
What had he been taught over and over when it came to fears? Face them, head on.
So, that’s what he did. In two quick strides, he was at the side of a tall, white horse. “Thanks for including me on the winning side,” he said, and put one armored boot into the stirrup and hefted himself up… and promptly fell onto his back, the wind knocked out of him.
To their credit, the others didn’t laugh.
“You really hope to be able to mount her in all that armor?” Gordon asked, leaning over to help him up, while the light fairy danced around as if eager to be on its way.
“Aye,” Alastar replied, and this time pulled from deep within so that a slight glow sent his arms tingling with extra strength, and he was able to pull himself up and onto the horse.
Instead of being impressed, however, the others looked horrified.
“What’d I do now?” he asked, checking the saddle to see if he was backward or something. Horse’s head in front of him, check. Everything else looked good.
“We’ve been waiting and waiting for your powers to recover so that we can follow this spirit,” Estair explained, “and now you use some of those very same powers to climb a horse?”
Donnon glared at him and mounted a red horse with ease, then pulled her over to Alastar’s side. “You put your ego above the safety of my daughter again, and our friendship won’t last long.”
“I’m supposed to
not use magic until we’ve saved them?” Alastar asked. “Who knows what could happen between now and then.”
“Seeing as your magic is the only way to find them,” Gordon huffed as he mounted a black horse, “I advise you to learn to rely on us.”
Estair was the last to mount. She took the horse from Layla with a nod of appreciation, and mounted with grace. It was white like Alastar’s, but with black spots on its hindquarters. She looked so regal sitting there, tall and proud, he almost didn’t notice the fairy as it circled once in front of his face and then zipped off toward the hills.
“Hyah!” Gordon shouted, kicking his horse into pursuit.
“After you,” Donnon said, his frown from earlier replaced by the sort of smile the thrill of a chase brings.
Estair held her horse at the ready, clearly eager to ride, but waiting for Alastar. He wouldn’t let them down, he decided, so repeated what he’d seen Gordon do. Only, the horse slowly started meandering after him.
“Oh, come on!” Alastar said, whipping the reins about in hopes that doing so would push the animal into going faster.
Donnon came alongside him, and Estair went slightly ahead, the two taking turns to watch in confusion as he attempted to get the horse to go faster. They hadn’t even put the village behind them, and already it was clear his hips were aching. When he’d gone on another fifty feet like this, he shouted in frustration and turned on Donnon.
“What the hell am I doing wrong?” he demanded.
“It’s not like you’ll pick it up immediately,” Donnon replied. “But since we’re in a bit of a rush, you’ll have to do your best and suffer through it. Now, do exactly as I say, and we’ll be making progress in no time.”
Alastar pushed his ego aside and listened diligently, and before long they were even galloping, though, he was certain that each time he rose and fell, the splitting headache quickly forming was going to rip him in half, or the pain in his inner thighs would mean it didn’t matter if he broke his vows or not, because nothing down there would ever work again.
“I hear people used to go riding for fun,” he called out to Estair as he came up alongside her at a point where the horses had to slow to maneuver between large rocks. “Can’t say I understand that one.”
“You’ll get over the pain, and then you’ll see.”
“Maybe, but I imagine I’ll be too traumatized by that point to remember what fun feels like.”
She laughed and gave him a look that almost made him forget the pain of riding. “When we rest, I’ll take care of you. Don’t you worry.”
They cleared the rocks and took off again, that look memorized so that he could focus on it with each thud and shock of pain.
The best he could do was stay focused on the fairy ahead, because anything else just kept bringing him back to the pain. How the hell did people ride these beasts for days on end? He wanted to leap off and run the whole way, but running in his armor wasn’t likely to happen, and he had no idea how far they would be traveling.
And something was happening as he watched the fairy. Pain seemed to subside, and his energy returned slightly. It wasn’t like a full on healing spell, but keeping his focus on the fairy was definitely giving him some form of rejuvenation. He supposed it made sense, in a strange, magical way. If he was pulling on energy, whether it was a great pot or some form of various colors, as the mystics had described the possible ways it worked, then this fairy was just one more way of manifesting his magic. She wasn’t a real fairy, in that sense, but a being he created to lead him to people he had a connection with. As an added bonus, she seemed to provide some form of healing.
The real question was how long she would last.
Riding in the dead of night was a challenge, but the horses largely controlled themselves, and the moon and stars were bright. At a dip in a valley, they found themselves descending into a dense fog, then wading across a shallow swamp as they led their frightened horses.
Alastar enjoyed the break from riding and wondered if the aching in his inner thighs would be with him forever.
The fairy was growing dim, and he knew it wouldn’t be long.
“We have to move faster,” he said as they reached solid land and a spot where the fog was sparse.
Donnon found a hunk of bread and dried apricots in his horse’s saddle bag and shared it with the others. “We’ll gather our strength, then set off again.”
“We have no idea how long it could be,” Estair added, seeing the look on Alastar’s face. “And arriving without the ability to fight would mean losing before really starting.”
Alastar didn’t like it, but he took a bite nonetheless. When he swallowed, he was surprised to see the fairy brighten up.
“You see,” Donnon said with a nod toward the fairy, “you need the energy boost, too.”
“If it’ll help us win,” Alastar replied as he eyed the increasingly bright fairy.
Estair approached and adjusted his saddle, glancing his way more than once. “You’re holding up well.”
“I feel like death,” he replied.
“The feeling… it goes away.”
“You mean the pain?” He cracked his neck. “I have a hard time believing it.”
“The physical, aye. But the emotional as well.” She took a swig from her water skin and then held it out, offering a drink. He took it and sighed with relief after the cool water had met his dry mouth.
“Living out with the clans?” he asked, handing the water skin back. “I imagine you know something of this.”
“Aye.” She took the water skin, but didn’t put it away. She clutched it next to her chest, her eyes staring off into the night sky. “It’s not always against the paladins, our struggles. My brother was lost in a skirmish with another clan, long ago. The skirmish was north, along the great River of Enid. They have a fortress built there to control the mouth of the river, and another clan had asked for our help in taking it. Fool brother that he was, he ran off to join in the fighting. The last I saw of him was when he ran off, carrying his sword above his head and shouting battle cries like the rest of them.”
“That’s… I’m sorry.”
“Wars here, battles… it all seems so pointless. One day it’s other clans, the next Storm Raiders, then the remnant, and now these strange sorcerers show up. Will it ever end?”
He turned to see the fairy dancing in the fog, floating around like she was swimming and having the time of her life. “I have a strange feeling… One that tells me we will be the ones to bring it to an end.”
She smiled as she took his hand and squeezed. “Damn right we will.”
22
Donnon’s ears perked up and he paused, mid-step as he was about to remount his horse. He had sensed something, and now he was listening… waiting.
There it was again, a gust of wind, followed by a distant shout. The fog was still thick around them, but when he looked to the sky, he saw heavy clouds forming, circling around a point not far to the northwest of them.
But what really caught his attention was when Alastar’s fairy of light leapt up and darted off in that direction faster than the others could follow.
“ALASTAR!” he shouted and was already on his horse and riding before the others had a chance to respond. If there was a chance his daughter was nearby, he meant to make sure she knew daddy was here to protect her.
Curses sounded from behind and soon the sounds of galloping horses, and then, ahead of them, the fog cleared as a sudden burst of light exploded in the night.
A man was cursing, and in the remaining light, Donnon had no doubt that this was one of the sorcerers. He leapt from the horse, pulling free his battle ax as he did so, and landed with a chop that split the sorcerer’s head in two.
The twang of arrows sounded nearby, whistling close and then nearly finding their mark before a gust of wind flung them aside.
What remained of the fairy was now like a thousand glittering stars, falling around them like snow.
�
�How…?” Donnon asked, but then a sound came from behind him, the whimper of a voice that said, “Dad,” and Donnon’s only thought was to reach his little girl. He plowed through the sorcerer, only distantly aware of a flame that shot toward the man at the same time from somewhere behind him, and then was at her side, his Kia.
“Darling,” he said, grabbing her with one arm and wielding the ax with the other, prepared for any attack that might come. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“Not yet,” a woman’s voice said, and when he looked down, he wasn’t holding his daughter at all, but a witch. Around her pointed teeth, the white paint on her skin cracked even as she stared at him. Her eyes went black as fire rose from her fingertips.
She cackled, and then was on him, clawing, pulling him into her with hands that burned.
To be so close, he had thought, and then lose his daughter again, was more than Donnon could handle. With a shout of madness, he thrust her off and swung with all his might, again and again, a wild man with a mission in the night.
If Donnon hadn’t ridden off without them, Alastar thought, they would have been able to attack whatever lay out there together. Instead, there had been an explosion of light, and he now heard Donnon grunting and cursing, but was still too far back to know what was happening. He pushed the horse harder and now, for the first time, brought her into a real gallop.
Estair shouted for him to hurry, and then a flame lit up the night and fire shot out, followed by more.
And then he was upon them, nearly riding past them as he pulled the horse to a stop and leaped down. He pulled out his sword, ready, and then saw the fight with the witch, a sorcerer dead on the ground, and the swirling storm above.
They are here, he realized. His sister and Kia were nearby, but the sorcerers didn’t know where!
“Stay out of sight!” he shouted into the darkness, hoping they could hear him, and then he charged.
The witch had just lifted Donnon into the air with a spell, and she was moving her hands in a motion as if pulling him apart. Her screams filled the air, but were cut short by Alastar’s sword coming up and out through the witch’s mouth. As he pulled the sword out, she fell to the ground, dead, and Donnon dropped to safety.
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