Quarterstars Awakening

by David L. McDaniel

  “Let’s go find the healer, Great Mother,” Traegon said as he grabbed her elbow.

  “No!” she snapped. “Follow your father. Do not let him know that you are following.”

  “For what purpose, Great Mother?”

  “You will see. I believe this will get much worse before it gets better.”

  As commander Daegon and Voll walked away, they began to talk about where the elves might be next, where, and when they would be closest to their encampment.

  “I want you to scout these elves again for me. This time I want one of their scouts to find you. Make sure he chases you back to our designated area so that we may capture him.”

  “Yes commander,” Voll said, and took two steps away then stopped and turned back to face his commander. “Commander, do you think I can get a new horse?”

  Chapter 20

  When Naemyn was as a young apprentice to Kroejin, the king’s spiritual advisor, he was a rambunctious student. It was not that he liked to cause or get into trouble, it was just that trouble had a way of finding him, but Naemyn didn’t seem to mind, which made his woes that much more emphasized.

  He was also ambitious and impatient. He made it known what he wanted, and since he was so ambitious in his youth, he was an obvious choice to be elevated to the spiritual advisor to the king when Prince Jaerick became king. Being the prince’s best friend growing up certainly did not hurt either.

  Naemyn, being so apt to find himself in trouble, often wandered out into the forest to escape his punishment for his deeds. One summer afternoon, when hiding from Kroejin and skipping his studies, he wandered into the forest and into trouble. He had actually set out to find the breeding grounds for the hook-feather hawks, except that he found them quicker than he expected and almost walked on top of them, startling himself.

  Their nests were settled in the top layer of the forest canvas where he heard the babies crying for their mothers’ to come back with their next feeding. Crouching down he nestled himself in the low-lying brush and watched them for many minutes and waited for their mothers’ return.

  Dozens of nests stretched high up in the canvas like a spider colony with massive webs stringing throughout an old barn. He began to sweat profusely and grow nauseated. He could not explain why, but a deep fear began to creep in and overtake his soul. While he hid in the bushes, he heard the hawks call and chatter. The noise seemed to increase as minutes turned to hours, until he could not take it any longer. His skin crawled, and his body twisted until he jumped out of the bushes and ran.

  As he did so, the hawks saw him as a threat and exploded from their nests, taking to the air and attacking him. They simultaneously pecked at his head and back with their beaks and talons. Blood began to flow freely from his wounds as he ran. Naemyn continued to run, covering his head while they continued to pelt him.

  Then, as he ran, he felt something stir from the pit of his stomach, much like a boiling of molten rock that both aggravated and excited him. Soon the boiling feeling erupted into a flood of peace and weightlessness. A bright, shady, purple haze encircled his being and cleared his vision. He sensed that nothing could touch him as if a protective shield now covered his body.

  Though the hawks continued to pelt him, they could no longer pierce his skin. Naemyn stopped running and let the hawks do their best as one by one he broke their necks by doing little more than thinking about it. All he had to do was point at the bird then clench his fist and watch them fall to the ground. He did this for almost an hour until all of the hawks’ dead bodies lay sprawled in a wide circle around him.

  Seeing what he had done, and sensing the aura around his body beginning to disappear, he sat down and cried.

  The sun slipped behind the tees and disappeared before he gained enough courage to get up and run back to the castle. He ran like a blind animal, careless of whether he ran through bushes with thorns, or barreled through the thick vines of the dense forest. By the time he regained his composure, he realized that he was lost. It did not take long for him to come to the conclusion that he would not get very far wandering around in the forest in the dark, so he found a fallen tree and nestled himself next to it, closed his eyes and began to cry, hoping to fall asleep.

  At first, he tossed and turned in the soft dirt, being aware of all the nighttime insects and noises they made. Eventually, he was on his back looking at the stars as they shimmered in the atmosphere within the breaks in the canopy of the forest trees. This brought some peace to him and he finally fell asleep.

  He awoke to the sound of soldiers on horseback. He actually felt the horse’s footfalls before he heard them. He stood up, brushed himself off, and ran to the sound of the horses.

  “Help me!” he yelled. As he ran, he pushed away branches from his face and jumped over rocks and bushes that blocked his path. He ran until he came to the elven soldiers. Kroejin was on the lead horse of twenty soldiers. When he saw his mentor, he fell flat on the ground and wept.

  Kroejin pulled his hood back and commanded the soldiers to return to the castle.

  “I will bring the boy back later,” he said as he dismounted. The commander of the soldiers yelled the command and they turned their horses back to the castle and quickly sped off, creating a dust cloud as they did so.

  Walking over to Naemyn, he noticed that the boy’s light sandy hair was matted and crumpled with dried blood.

  “What in the world happened to you?” Kroejin said, nervously laughing as he beheld the sad sight of a scared boy who had gotten himself into some trouble deeper than he could get out of.

  Naemyn sat up and rubbed his eyes so that he could see again.

  “Hawks! The Hook-feather hawks attacked me!”

  “Why would they attack you? Hook-feather hawks don’t attack unprovoked.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” he whimpered.

  “What boy? Speak up.”

  “I saw them and I hid. They scared me.”

  “What do you mean, they scared you?”

  “I was just walking through the woods when I came upon them. I saw all of their nests, heard them squawking. I just got scared and hid. When I got up to leave, they just attacked.”

  “Naemyn,” Kroejin said firmly. “You and I both know that you could not have been just walking out here by chance. You knew this was the breeding ground for our hawks, and you were up to no good. Tell me the truth.”

  Naemyn looked at the ground realizing he was just caught in disobedience, and did not know how he was going to get out of this without telling the truth.

  “I don’t like them,” he whispered.

  “What were you doing?”

  Naemyn looked up smiling. “I wanted to catch one.”

  “And do what with it?”

  Naemyn looked down again, shaking his head.

  “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  “No,” he grumbled.

  “No, but you are going to tell me what happened.”

  Naemyn’s head snapped up and he shouted. “They attacked me I told you! What do you think happened?”

  “I think you provoked them, and they attacked you in self defense.”

  “No! I didn’t do anything.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Kroejin said as he grabbed the young boy’s arm and began walking the direction that he was running away from. Naemyn stood his ground and snapped his arm out of Kroejin’s grip.

  “No! I will not go that way!”

  “Oh, yes you will!”

  “No,” he said, crossing his arms.

  Kroejin smiled at the boy. “Yes you will. You will either go with me or I wil
l bring the king’s guard out here and take you to the breeding grounds and have the soldiers set up a perimeter as you spend another night with the birds.”

  “That won’t happen,” Naemyn said boastfully with an angry smirk.

  “Try me, boy, push me and I will make sure it happens.”

  “You don’t understand. All the birds are dead, so your point will be useless.”

  Kroejin looked at Naemyn blankly, and waited for him to elaborate, but when he said nothing more he rubbed his forehead with his left hand.

  “All of them? How?”

  Naemyn stood straight as a board, now frightened of his mentor. “Every… single… one,” he said with a slight pause in between every word. “Every single one, every cock, hen, and hatchling, even the eggs are crushed.”

  Kroejin flushed with anger. “What in the name of Raezoures have you done, boy?”

  Naemyn looked to the ground.

  “Take me there, Naemyn. I think I know what is going on.”

  “You do?” he whispered, looking up at Kroejin.

  “Yes, I believe I do. Take me there.”

  Naemyn led Kroejin to the spot where the birds lay scattered dead and bloody on the soft forest ground. He looked in horror at all of the carcasses of the birds, noticing that none of them had any of their original shape. Feathers were strewn across the landscape, impossible to tell which feather belonged to which carcass.

  Upon seeing the carnage, Naemyn began to shake and fell to his knees, then fell forward propping himself up with his elbows and forearms flat on the ground. He did not cry, but shook violently. Kroejin walked around to face him and pushed him back up to the kneeling position.

  “You did all of this?”

  “Yes,” he mouthed, but no sound escaped his throat.

  “You should not be ashamed. What happened here is not your fault.”

  “How is this not my fault?”

  “This day has been prophesied.”

  “Prophesied? What prophecy?”

  “The prophecy that will elevate the elven kingdom out of its current quandary of existing with these aggressive Val elves. However, for the time being it is necessary that we coexist with these impure breed of elves, but we have felt that you will be the one that will lead the next king away from this path in order create a new path, one that will bring the pure Sor elves to prominence.”

  Naemyn leaned back and sat on his bottom, putting his arms behind him to prop himself erect.

  “Then why have you not told me of this?” he asked wiping his face.

  “We didn’t know for certain that it would be you. We hoped it was, but did not know, and now we do.”

  “We?”

  “The Sorae, or more accurately yet discreetly, the Agin-Sorae. We study the prophecies and try to direct the elven kingdom to the most prosperous end. Where the Sorae believes that we can coexist, the Agin-Sorae only want the pure Sor elves to lead the elven kingdom.”

  “What must I do to make this all happen?”

  “We don’t know for certain. But we have suspected for a long time now that you were the one the prophecy spoke of. We believe that you may be the chosen one to find the heart shard of the Markenhirth, sometimes mistakenly called the fifth Shard.”

  “Was I chosen into this study because of the possibility?”

  “Yes, you and a handful of other young children. We hoped it would be you because of your friendship with the prince.”

  Naemyn thought in silence for a few moments before responding. “Am I now on the path of this prophecy?”

  Kroejin smiled. “Always looking forward. Yes, my boy, you are most definitely on the path, and we hope that you will be the one to find this shard, because the one who has possession of it will also be able to summon the Blue Wraeth.”

  “But I thought the Markenhirth and the Blue Wraeth were evil?”

  “What is evil, but perspective? Choose any decisive battle. To the victor it can be seen as a glorious victory routing their enemy, but to the losing side it can be seen as a senseless and immoral massacre.”

  “I am not sure I understand; evil is evil. Will you explain this prophecy in detail to me?”

  “Yes, my boy. All in good time, but not today. First you must do some explaining to me as to what happened with the hawks.”

  Naemyn, now feeling confident that he was not going to be in serious trouble for his actions, eased up on his defiance to tell the tale.

  “When they attacked me, I was so scared I ran, but they kept attacking me. The fear inside of me began to boil. I don’t understand what that feeling was, but it felt good.”

  “What do you mean it felt good?”

  “At first I felt a grumbling in my chest, kind of like a hunger pain, but higher up. Then it consumed my entire upper body and warmed me up until my forehead began to sweat. After that, I felt nothing and saw a white flash followed by a bluish purple stream of smoke darting through the air. I had a strange feeling that I could command the smoke to kill the hawks, and so I did,” Naemyn smiled, “and I liked it.”

  “You liked the killing?”

  “Well, no, but I liked the power and I liked the power of killing so easily without guilt. I liked the intensity of the feeling inside me and then being able to control it.”

  “Do you know what that feeling is?”

  Naemyn cocked his head, curious that Kroejin may know what it was that he had just described to him.

  “Yes I do, but generally not in the form that you’ve just experienced. What you felt was your Kronn.”

  “I have never heard of Kronn. What is it?”

  Kronn is an ancient term for channeling the magic of the land and entwining it with the magic within. Kronn is not an ability that is often used by elves, as they mostly master the craft of Wrae, not Kronn. Kronn does not belong to us, though some elves can channel it. In fact, many that can channel it don’t even recognize it within them when they feel it.”

  “You mean those that master Kronn can do what I did?”

  “No. Yours is special. The Kronn within comes from nature. It works through the earth and into your body and into your heart. It knows your heart and intensifies your desires. Many cannot control it in a lifetime, like you did on the first time.”

  “So my desire to kill the hawks awakened my Kronn?”

  “In a sense, I guess that is correct. The Kronn also knows the future and can transpire events to ensure its passing.”

  “Can you teach me these prophecies?”

  Kroejin smiled and put his hand on Naemyn’s shoulder. “In time. In time, you will know all I know and maybe even surpass the knowledge of the Sorae.”

  Chapter 21

  Daegon and a dozen men hid behind a cluster of jagged rocks. The humans, like the rocks, hung precariously over the pass as wolves ready to pounce upon their prey. On the other side of the road another dozen men also crouched behind the craggy cliff, anxiously awaiting their orders to kill. Their impatience seemed intensified due to the smell of another rainstorm coming. The once partly cloudy skies turned gray, but then grew dark and heavy as the clouds began to roll in. The lush green foliage that grew in between the rocks began to turn a darker hue as the light dissipated.

  A soldier crawled up from the backside of the slope to the position of his commander, and waited for his superior to acknowledge him.

  “Report!” Daegon commanded.

  “Captain Voll is coming up the hill,” the soldier reported.

  “Is he followed?” the commander growled.

  “Only by a scout, no others foll
ow. He is ahead of the elves, and they are not breaking their formation.”

  “Then meet him and bring him here! I want him here as quickly as humanly possible. He has information for us,” Daegon said without looking at the soldier.

  He said nothing more and then crawled backwards down the hill, slipping away.

  Daegon had been waiting years for an opportunity like this. Nasty rotten elves, he often called them. Selfish and elitist, the elves were nothing more than scrawny little overgrown children with the ability to speak intelligently, wield magic, see in the dark, and worst of all, kill humans. They are an abomination to the land they that they pretend to protect.

  However, he knew if they were to be successful on a much larger scale. It was for this single reason that Daegon organized this force. If someone did not come to lead the humans, they would soon find themselves extinct.

  Long before there were any assaults against the elves, the humans fought amongst themselves, usually intertribal, sometimes from within the tribe. Daegon, as a young man, with the suggestion and guidance of his Great Mother, developed a plan to align and organize them all into a single force.

  Daegon understood the great fortune before him, as to be granted an opportunity such as this. After years of planning and training, the campaign would begin at long last, with the ambush of this caravan. It would be a great start to the war and he would gain great satisfaction in watching every elf in the caravan suffer.

  Daegon heard someone crawling up the steep grassy hill behind him. Craning his head sideways, he saw Captain Voll crawling on his hands and feet working his way up in between the small bushes.

  “Report,” Daegon whispered without looking at his captain.

  Captain Voll nestled himself to the right of Daegon and laid prostrate feeling the soft ground on his stomach. “A scout is following me. He should be here any second.”

  “Good. And the caravan?”

  “They follow about thirty minutes behind.”

  “Did you inform the perimeter scouts as you came through?”