Steel, Magick and Faith: Book 1 of The Remus Rothwyn Chronicles

by T.P. Grish

   

  Every piece of information or gossip he had managed to collect from travelers or from old lore had been inscribed. For millennia, mankind had spread across Glenryth, surrounded by the unexplainable wild. Why was so much unresearched? It was known that there were other, sorcerous forces at work beyond men, different species of Fey such as dwarves, elves and various beasts, had been identified. But no one pried. It was probably common sense. Remus had, however, heard of men and women who tried to explore the outside world beyond roads and pilgrim paths… Mostly they met bad ends.

   

  The incident with the cattle was not the worst of the lot, there were incidents involving combat and murder. This was the first time when something had happened on Remus’ land, but he convinced himself that it could not be personal. His cabin was on the edge of town, nearer to the wilds than most others, after all. How could the beasts know about his research- no, it had to be coincidence. Remus sighed. His parents, for whatever reason, had left him in the town at a young age, with nothing but a few words to local townspeople to take care of him. The kindly older couple who raised him were long dead now, the rest of the town were not as tolerant of his perceived differences.

   

  Everybody in town was supposed to follow the creed of the local factions: the religious Church of St. Lusian or the Steelwielder technocrats… the powers that be, in this town, and dominant players in much of the known world. Remus would not even pay lip-service to them when he was growing up, despite the well-meaning advice of his adoptive parents. How could people sign their minds over to one simplistic belief system, how was that considered normal, even expected? Remus, like every other child, grew up on stories of the Feykind with the knowledge that many of the stories were real, and everybody would bear witness to the terrifying implications of conflict with the Feykind at least a few times in their life. Remus shared the fear and anger towards the magickal creatures, but he also knew that since they existed, they must have motives; their powers must have explanations and limits. He also had experienced the prejudice and savagery lurking within the breasts of mankind.

   

  Remus sighed, taking a bite of bread from a clay plate on the rustic reading table that was perched in the corner of his similarly outfitted main room. He felt a familiar pang of bitter stubbornness. No, he would find out about the world before he cast his lot in with anybody, and he would keep his eyes open. If that meant he was a hermit for the rest of his life, to Hell with it.    

   

  * * *

   

  The next day was one of Remus’ scheduled trips into the town proper for supplies, a brief inspection of his pantry made it abundantly clear that he was running low on everything. Stroking his accumulated stubble, Remus mentally prepared himself to go into town. His pantry boasted a few slices of stale bread, and meat of dubious lifespan. Packing a few coins from his meager savings, and loading logs of firewood into a hemp sack, he soon was ready. He placed the wood and coins into a push-wagon and rolled it in the direction of town. It was mid-morning. He thankfully would miss the morning rush for goods, peasant women fighting over squawking chickens. But there would be enough people present to make sure he felt unwelcome. There always was. His wagon tore ruts through the squelchy mud, like a grumpy old man stomping home for dinner. Winding down the slightly declining path, he realized that there was a simple beauty to the town of High Peaks, not so much inside the town, but in the surroundings. Brown, bare earth, splotched here and there with grass and modestly leafed trees. Large mountain ranges looming in the background, grand with their grays and greens.

   

  The pale, skinny form of Perey was walking towards him, and Remus stopped to chat. The dapper, cheerful young man seemed out of place in this town, Remus mused. Perey was the uncharacteristic son of Buhl, the farmer.

   

  ’How are you doing?’ Perey inquired, ‘I stayed to help as long as I could, Reym’.

   

  ‘I know, I took care of it. I’m fine’, Remus responded.

   

  ‘Sorry about my father, he….’

   

  ‘It’s ok, Perey, I understand. The man is a buffoon, though’.

   

  They shared a chuckle, Perey hesitant of laughing at his father.

   

  Perey went on, ‘The town is going to be aflame at the loss of the cattle, my family lost a few’. Perey lived on his family farm; his family was in the meat and shearing business, while he worked as a messenger and town courier. ‘Why do they do it, Remus? The dwarves? D’ya think this will ever stop?’

   

  ‘I don’t know, Perey, my research hasn’t really shown me their motivations, besides the fact that they think we are invading their land, or breaking some cryptic agreement our ancestors made with them’.

   

  Perey related some gossip about a traveler he had run into in his daily duties, travelers being rare in High Peaks. Then they went on their separate ways.

   

  Ignoring the gawking in the town square, he made his way to a local grocer. Remus picked up produce that he was in need of, breads, cheese, freshly skinned meat… Piles of fruit graced one corner of the large wooden case displayed by a particular merchant.  They were of dubious quality, but that was usually the case. Remus felt through an assortment of apples, trying to discern which were of better quality. He wanted to be done with his buying, then sell some of his wood, and retreat back to his cabin.

   

  A horrible shrieking and screaming interrupted his perusal, and he whirled around in shock. A woman ran towards the crowd, pleading for help. Her arm was badly burned, the pretty white dress burned off, along with a lot of her skin. The crowds shrieked in horror. They rushed to help her. The cynical man felt a quick pang of surprise that they helped, but then realized that the people did look after those they considered their own. These thoughts were pushed out of his head at the sight of the woman. Who had done that to her arm? Remus moved closer, the crowds now ignoring his presence. ‘Aid me!’ she shrieked, ‘It was that man, Weylin, he did this! He is one of the Touched, he is a demon!’ Weylin…. Remus remembered the name.

   

  When he was a boy, Remus’ isolation from the other townspeople began. He was not different in any way, was not Touched… He just started inquiring about things too much, about the magick that everyone knew existed outside the human settlements. Weylin was the same age as Remus, and in their teenage years Weylin would always seek to turn the townspeople against Remus, even further than they already were. He did the same with Elaina as a matter of fact, and Remus never found out what his problem was.

   

  Now a man of twenty five years, Remus barely saw Weylin around. He knew nothing of Weylin’s personality, aside from his inclination to demean and ostracize others. Weylin was a Touched?! That did not make sense. ‘He tried to seduce me’, the woman gasped, ‘When I refused, he did this to me! He did it with foul magick!’ She cringed in pain. ‘Where is he now?’ said a male voice. Remus looked around to see Baruvo, the blacksmith. In the background he saw the reassuring figure of Elaina, no doubt listening to the conversation with her innate abilities. ‘He ran to the forest! On the east edge of town!’

   

  A helpful peasant arrived with a bucket of water and an armload of towels. People began pouring water on her arm and wiping it down. The crackle of skin under the water pained Remus as much as her agonized screams… Poor woman. A few people carried the woman into a shack where they would do their best to aid her. There was a commotion as men of the town started boasting and bragging about how they would find Weylin, and the various inhumanities they would perpetrate upon him. The Sherriff and guardsman marched in to calm the unruly mob down, and started making plans to hunt him down. Remus stroked his chin. He had always been interested in the phenomena of the Touched, and how they came about. Quietly, Remus walked back to hi
s house, trailing his wagon behind him.

   

  This man had done evil, so Remus need not be worried about the ethics of any techniques he might use to study him. Remus sympathized with the Touched… if all the non-human creatures in Glenryth used their powers to torment mankind, what was wrong with a few select men and women being able to use the same powers themselves? Of course burning a poor woman’s arm because of some stupid failed tryst was evil and vicious.  Remus had not been able to find out much from Elaina, as she blindly accepted her powers without the thought of questioning them. Her powers could be impressive, the healing powers of water and air, but nothing spectacular. Hmm, it would be better if he left later on in the day, so he could eat, rest and prepare himself for the possible danger.

   

  He knew that Touched, upon first discovering their powers, were rumored to be unable to control them properly. Would he have time to rest, or would the Mayor and his men find Weylin before Remus could? Remus knew the woods fairly well, having traveled there in his occupation as a woodcutter, and in his studies of the region. He would take the chance, he decided, and headed to the kitchen where he would eat lunch before a short rest.

   

  He awoke energized and began grabbing rope, axe, his net and his book and quill. Remus set out. Hopefully, he could overpower and restrain Weylin, and ask him some questions. Afterwards, he would hand him over to the Sheriff. Exiting his house, he noticed it was early afternoon, a dark, cool one. He set out with his pack over his shoulders, his boots crunching on the rocky soil. The start of the forest was mere metres away from his cabin, with small spruce trees and ferns splayed here and there. It took five minutes of walking before the trees grew tall, and the sky became a canopy. It was around then that Remus noticed the first sign of a trail. Leaves and twigs were disturbed, indicating a human-sized creature had run this way. Remus heard noises and saw glimpses of loud townsmen and guardsmen searching the forest. They had split up to cover more ground, but were rather lacking in tracking skills.

   

   Remus quickened his step, but took care not to make too much noise. The trees bore greenish-brown leaves, and an occasional boulder protruded from the ground. The floor was a carpet of leaves. Remus pressed on, following the general direction of the discernable tracks. The only noise he heard was his own footsteps, and the chirps and low growls of forest creatures. He would most likely avoid the larger creatures at this time, who would either be sleeping or stalking their usual prey. Once in a while he came across a squirrel or other such creature, which would either stay at a distance, watching, or scurry away.

   

  It was three hours into his journey that he began to lose track of the signs of Weylin’s passage. How far could this man have gone? Remus conceded the possibility that the man was running away for good, to avoid punishment for his deeds. Just as Remus was glancing around in frustration, he saw a flicker at the corner of his right eye. A tall figure approached him, barely discernable from the trees. His alarm faded when he realized it was a feminine figure, but its skin was weirdly the same colour and texture as leaves. As the figure glided in, its skin began to fade into a more human tone, until gradually the figure revealed itself to be Elaina. She smiled benevolently, ‘Sorry to startle you like this, Remus, but I had to find out what you intended to do’.

   

  ‘I am going to track down Weylin, that must be obvious to you’ Remus retorted. Elaina smirked at his trademark prickliness, unaffected. ‘Yes, but why are you embarking on this search by yourself, when the townspeople have started their own search?’ He chuckled humorlessly. ‘I do not have complete confidence in the … abilities, mental or otherwise, of the good Sheriff and his men. And, as you know, I have my own interests in those that are Touched’.

   

  He added ‘I will be handing Weylin over to the townspeople once I am finished. I do not intend to hurt him, just to ask him some questions’. She contemplated that, shaking her head ruefully, ‘I have not managed to figure out your intentions, Remus, for as long as I have known you’. They had known each other since they were children. She continued, ‘I think you could use my help. I have an interest in making sure Weylin does not make the townspeople even more hostile towards me, towards us, and all those who are different’.  ‘I am not one of the Touched, Elaina’, he retorted, but he knew what she had meant. ‘But you are different, Remus… I have powers I can add to the task, and I know these woods, I have them inside me’.

   

  Remus nodded consent, and Elaina walked alongside him, without the camouflage enchantment. She leaned forward to notice an apparent disturbance in the leaves, one that Remus could not pick out. She motioned to him and they changed direction. ‘Good, good’, Remus muttered, walking briskly to catch up. One thing I can say for him, thought Elaina, is that he had no problems following someone else’s advice, if they could lead him to his goal. 

   

  CHAPTER 2

   

   

  Nearing a bend, Remus and Elaina came upon a small, babbling brook. It flowed through the rocky ground of a clearing, traveling towards the west. Its amethyst blue waters lined the yellow-white rock. Crouched down with his back to them was a man in a dark commoner’s tunic, who appeared to be cupping his hands in the brook. Remus realized with a start, that it must be Weylin. Remus looked at Elaina, who nodded in understanding. They had to be careful. Elaina glanced at Remus and nodded sharply, indicating that she was going to head towards the oblivious man. Remus took one last look at Weylin. The man appeared to be washing his face and hands and muttering softly to himself.

   

  Elaina’s skin shifted into camouflage once again, to the colour and texture of rock. She crouched and slowly advanced. Remus grabbed his hand axe and his net. It was a specially made net, compact and made of hemp. But when thrown, it would expand, enveloping anything in its path. Axe in his left hand, and net poised in his right, Remus slowly advanced. They inched forward. Remus had no idea what powers Elaina was going to use, but he had to get a bit closer if he was to use his net. Weylin was still unaware. Remus and Elaina both became painfully aware of any slight noise they might make. Elaina swooped in from behind Weylin and to the right, Remus on the left.

   

  I’m close enough, thought Remus…. He grabbed his net and prepared to take one more step forward to throw it on Weylin. As he thrust his arm back, their target suddenly swung around, eyes intense. Weylin raised his hand, and a brief fan of fire arced in the sky, burning the net in half. Elaina jumped on the unaware Weylin, almost forcing him to his knees. Remus joined in the struggle, and together Weylin was pushed onto his back, helpless. Remus grabbed his rope and began tying Weylin up. Grabbing his left wrist, he commenced tying the first knot.

   

  He glanced at Elaina, whose skin still had the appearance of sheet rock. As he tied the knot, his skin all of a sudden felt like it was getting warmer. Only the areas that were in contact with Weylin. His skin began to get uncomfortably hot. Remus looked at Weylin. A smile was splayed across his boyish face. Steam seemed to rise from his skin and even his dark mop of black hair. Remus yelled in pain and jumped off him, as did Elaina. This man was dangerous, and could seriously hurt them if they weren’t cautious.

   

  Remus backed off and side-stepped warily. Weylin squirmed and made it to his feet. He quickly surveyed his foes, his face wrinkling in recognition at Elaina. Elaina gestured forward and yelled inaudibly, and the whistling of a sharp gust of wind was heard. Weylin was pushed off his feet, and fell back into the brook; falling hard on the rocks, partly submerged. Elaina concentrated, warping the water to hold Weylin down. His body struggled, half submerged, and unable to rise. Remus took the opportunity to grab the rope. He grabbed Weylin and held his body down while lifting his head to the surface. ‘You can’t hold me like this’, Weylin rasped, threateningly. Remus tied the man’s arms together, grunting at
Weylin’s violent struggling. He lifted the man out of the stream by his neck and shoulders, like a fish.

   

  Water dropped off his sodden tunic as Remus threw him to the ground. Elaina approached, in her normal form. Weylin gave her a quick glance then refocused his glare at Remus. ‘What do you and that freak-girl want?’ he spat. His voice was a rough hiss. ‘You are a danger to us all, townspeople and Touched’, intoned Elaina somberly. Weylin sneered at her. She matched it with a contemptuous stare of her own. He spoke, ‘You would slay me to gain rapport with the townspeople, witch?!  How about you, hermit?’ His boyish looks matched his petulant attitude, but there was an unsettling wildness in his eyes.

   

  ‘When did you discover you had these abilities? Is there anyone in your family line who also was likewise afflicted?’ Remus asked, drawing a curious stare from Elaina. Weylin struggled against his ropes as if to double-check that escape was not an option. ‘I did not ask for these powers, they…’ he spoke as if musing to himself. ‘They came slowly. Where am I supposed to go now?’ Remus wondered if he saw remorse in Weylin’s eyes… no it wasn’t remorse, it was… neediness, just a small streak of it. The bound man shot a feral glance at Remus. ‘Unbind me now, hermit, or I swear I shall burn your flesh to dust when I get free’.

   

   Remus was grim but unimpressed, he looked at Elaina. ‘Let us bring him back to my cabin’. She shot back harshly, ‘You wish to examine him for your curiosity?! So you can find information to record in your tomes!’ Remus started to speak but she continued, ‘We came here because a young woman from the village has been seriously injured by this man, forget that not!’ Remus stared at her simply, ‘You have faced hatred for your bloodline, me for my choices…. Now, a Touched has mutilated a townsperson. I have to learn what I can. Then we can give this whelp in to the authorities and hope for sanity and restraint from the townspeople’.

   

  Elaina stared at him cynically. They both refocused on the issue at hand, but Elaina made a mental note to bring the issue up with Remus at a later junction. They led Weylin back to Remus’ cabin, avoiding any townsfolk on the way. All the while Weylin made threats and sputtered in vain.