chp cont...

     The travelers were awoken about eight hours later by the sound of thundering water. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, Evan saw that the boats were passing out of the dark tunnels and into a world painted by the pale light of morning. A waterfall thundered down before them, and the Jraas skillfully navigated the boats around the edge of the cascade of water, only getting their passengers a little wet. Coming out into the open, they found themselves floating upon a wide river that flowed down the middle of a large city that was seemingly built along its banks for several miles. Numerous bridges crisscrossed over it, some high up between two buildings on opposite banks.

     Evan looked up. The sun was just rising into the sky, and the looming form of Mount Versidde rose up behind them; thankfully, there was no sign of Agrand and his dragon. He breathed a great sigh of relief. Danger was past, for the moment.

     Swimming swiftly, Vrissh and Grooshla led the boats towards a long wooden dock that was completely deserted on the edge of the city. Climbing onto the platform, they crouched until the humans had disembarked.

    Rhia turned to them. “Thank you Vrissh, thank you Grooshla,” she said. “We are eternally in your debt.”

     “Of it think nothing,” Vrissh said in a low voice. “For the freedom of the world, we are happy to offer our services. Farewell, human-friends, may you find success in your quest!”

    He dove into the water gracefully, barely making a ripple on the river’s surface, Grooshla right beside him. Quickly, the empty boats glided away, disappearing behind the waterfall as the Jraa returned to their home beneath the mountain.

      His eyes wide with wonder, Evan took in the city. It stretched away into the distance down the river, tall gray stone buildings lining its banks, some mounted with colorful banners fluttering in the breeze, while smaller wooden structures with thatched roofs spread out in all directions, crowded together but still sprawling over a large area through their sheer numbers. A few people were out on the streets, most clothed in simple woolen garments; but a few men were attired in expensive leather jackets, shiny boots and colorful silk vests, and they strutted toward wherever their destination lay with looks of importance etched on their smug faces.  

     This was all so new to Evan! He couldn’t grasp how so many people could live in one place, or at the number of shops, homes, and inns that lay before his eyes, but there it all was, spread out in front of him, a veritable feast for the eyes.

     “Where shall we go now?” Rhia asked, turning questioningly to Raide.

     “I know a man who we may be able to stay with,” the wanderer replied slowly. He was not looking all that well. His stubble was beginning to look like a ragged beard, while dark shadows under his eyes made him look as if he hadn’t slept in days. “Follow me.”

     They set off down the maze of streets as the city began to come alive with noise. It took a long while, nearly two hours, to get to their destination because Raide didn’t remember exactly where the man he knew lived. But, after a while he got his bearings, and they ended up standing before a large house built of stone blocks in an upper-class neighborhood at the heart of the city near the river’s edge; to Evan it looked like a miniature castle, complete with turrets and a small tower with a stained-glass window.

     Raide stepped up to the large, oak double doors and used the metal knocker mounted on it, rapping several times. Then he stepped back and waited.

     Several moments passed and nothing happened. “Well?” Evan said impatiently.

     “Wait a moment!” Raide said roughly, glaring darkly at the young man.

     As if on cue, the large doors creaked open a crack, and the head of a man with thick curly golden hair and an equally golden and curly beard poked out and looked around. Seeing Raide, the man’s face widened into a warm smile. The door was flung open, revealing the fact that the man was large and strongly built, with massive forearms and broad shoulders. He was clad in a dark green jerkin, and he moved with a grace that belied his massive frame.

     “My friend!” he boomed in a loud, cheerful voice, spreading his arms wide. “Welcome! Welcome!”

     Raide smiled tiredly; the first smile Evan had seen pass across the wanderer’s face. “Hello Harb,” he replied. “It has been a few seasons.”

     “Indeed it has!” Harb replied. “What brings you to my humble dwelling, and with such unlikely companions?” He looked over Rhia, Trina, and Evan with a strange expression on his face.

     “Dark doings, unfortunately,” Raide replied. “We have been traveling from Yeolin, and are in need of a place to stay for a few days.”

     “Indeed? Well, you and your friends are welcome in my home!” Harb opened the door wide and beckoned the travelers to enter. “Please, come in. Once you are more comfortable, we shall talk.”    

     Harb’s home was unlike anything Evan had ever seen, even in this city that was so different from anything he had experienced previously. The rooms of the house were tall and with vaulted ceilings, and numerous large windows gave it an airy ambience.

     In the entrance hall, they were met by Harb’s wife, Faireen, a slight woman dressed in a blue dress. She possessed long black hair and a very fair complexion, and there was an air about her that drew Evan’s mind to someone who was strong-willed, but gentle. She took Rhia and Trina under her wing, leading them to her chambers to bath and refresh themselves. Meanwhile, Harb summoned a servant, for he had several, who led Evan and Raide to the bathing room, an airy space with a skylight that let the sunlight stream in. Filling a large cast-iron tub with buckets of steaming hot water, heated over the fire in the kitchen, the servant departed. The young man and the wanderer took turns bathing, garbing themselves in light tunics that Harb kindly had laid out for them when they were finished.

     Harb then came to them and led Evan and Raide into the main room of the home, a rather comfortable space with a thick fur rug underfoot and several overstuffed couches flanked by tall bookshelves completely filled with all manner of reading materials. The large man bade them to sit, taking up residence in an armchair next to an ornate hearth that housed a hearty, crackling fire.

     “So,” he said, “tell me of what brings you to Kair-Leonid.”

     In a hushed tone, Raide related everything from when he and Evan had set out to open Rhia’s prison to their arrival at the city, adding background detail when needed. Harb listened in relative silence, a pensive look on his face, only asking the occasional question. When Raide had finished his relation of their journey, the large man stroked his beard thoughtfully for a moment.

     “The evil has been awakened again then,” he said after a moment. “It is something I expected to happen eventually, though I cannot say I did not fear it. And you say you seek to reach Uur-Valel?”

     “Yes,” Raide replied. “It is only there where Rhia can leave this world and escape the Unnamed Lord permanently.”  

     “And you told them the dangers of such a quest?” Harb asked Raide.

     “Aye, but the boy is stubborn and of a strong will,” Raide replied, glancing at Evan. “He is no warrior, but I believe that he shall see the journey through as far as he is able. It is by his doing that we have set out on this venture in the first place.”

     “A noble deed it is, what you have done,” Harb told Evan. “But I fear you shall need more than one warrior if you are to even dream of reaching that place.”

     “I can become one!” Evan said earnestly. “If only I had the right instruction, I could become a warrior!”

     “A skilled teacher you would need, and though Raide is a fine warrior, he is no teacher,” Harb said. “I, on the other hand, have instructed many a warrior in the ways of combat.”

     “What are you saying Harb?” asked Raide. “Do you wish to join us? You know that the likelihood of death is very great.”

     “It had crossed my mind,” Harb admitted. “And I do not fear death. A sight better it would be than to be stuck in this place, giving needless advice to warriors to too vain to really listen to what I have to say, while having more wealth than I know what to do with. It has been many years since I strode into battle, and my hands have been aching to feel a sword in them again for more than a fleeting moment.”

     At that moment, Rhia, Trina, and Faireen entered the room. The two young women were garbed in dresses of pale green, with their hair tied back with blue ribbon; they smelled of spring flowers.

      “I have been told of your plight,” Harb said to Rhia. “Do you have anything to say concerning it?”

     “Only that I wish to do harm to no one if it is possible,” Rhia replied. “But with such dangers as the Sundrak trying to capture me, I fear that this quest will claim unneeded lives. Evan and Raide have pledged to help me return to my true home, and for that I am grateful, but if their lives can be spared, I would gladly take my own before all perish and I fall under the Unnamed Lord’s shadow.”

      “That is admirable,” Harb replied. “But what of the young lady with you?” He nodded to Trina. “How does she fit into all of this?”

     “Alas,” replied Rhia, “she came to be with us by ill fortune. I was imprisoned near the town of Yeolin, on the western coast of this land, and the Unnamed Lord had his servants destroy it in his quest for me; she was the only one that survived.”

      “I had hoped we could find a place for her to stay,” Raide interjected, “but Calimon proved to be too dangerous a place to leave a young woman. I do still wish to find a temporary home for her, not out of anger or annoyance, but out of fear that should she continue with us, evil things could claim her life. She is no warrior.”

      At that moment Faireen spoke. “If it would be agreeable, Trina could stay here with us, for we have no children, and younger company would be a pleasant change for me.” She looked kindly at Trina. “Would that suit you, dear?”

     Trina swallowed and nodded. “Yes,” she replied. “I do not wish to cause my friends any hindrance, for they are already in great danger.”

     “Then it is settled!” Harb said. “And, company you may appreciate more, my love,” he told his wife. “I am considering joining them in their quest.”

     A sorrowful look came across Faireen’s face. “I had known that I could not hold you from that thing of your past for too long. But do you really wish to sacrifice your life? For, if what I have heard is true, this venture is fraught with peril.”

     “My presence will better the odds,” her husband assured her. “I would rather die trying to keep this world free and just, than to sit back and watch it collapse around me. I promise you this, should I return, never again will I set out to battle. I shall live in peace with you from that time on.”

     “Then do what you must. I shall order the servants to prepare your things for travel as soon as you are to depart.” Faireen’s eyes were watery with unshed tears, but on her face remained a look of determined understanding.

     “When should we depart?” asked Evan, looking at Raide questioningly.

     “When you are well-rested,” Harb interjected. “I would say tomorrow. The rest of today day you should work to regain your strength.”

     His plan was agreed upon, and for the next seven hours before the evening meal, the travelers rested in Harb and Faireen’s large home. Trina followed Faireen about, learning about the house and meeting the servants, while Rhia took a nap. Raide and Evan spent time with Harb in the walled garden behind the house. It was carpeted by grass and stands of brightly-flowered shrubs and flowers clustered densely together, leaving only small lanes to walk between them; a large willow tree dominated the very center of the garden, which was nearly half an acre in size.

     Harb took a pipe from his pocket and sat down on the grass, against the willow tree. Evan and Raide sat opposite him in the shade. The weather was warm, but not overly hot, and a slight breeze made being outside rather enjoyable in Evan’s mind.

     “So,” Harb said, “have you decided what route you shall be taking into Termainia?” He glanced at Raide.

     “No,” the wanderer replied. “The easiest route would be to take the road to Gavrul, but I fear traveling in the open.”

     “Yes, and the border is guarded there as well,” Harb replied, nodding. “The King does not want anyone going into Termainia, and those who do will be put to death. He issued a decree to that effect a fortnight ago by messenger falcon to all the major cities.”

      “I had also considered heading southwest to the River Yarriv,” Raide admitted. “From there, we could float the river straight into Termainia, but that would add at least three days to our journey, and with the Unnamed Lord’s forces being drawn to us, passage through Termainia itself could become impossible.”

     “What about through Durr-Vorc?” asked Evan suddenly, remembering something Master Worin had taught in his class back in Yeolin. It was a city that bordered Termainia and had been abandoned during the war with the Dark Hordes.

     Harb’s expression grew dark, and Raide looked at Evan incredulously.

     “Durr-Vorc…” repeated the wanderer.

     “I had not thought of that,” Harb said. “But to take such a route…”

      “Would be madness!” Raide said loudly. “There is no road to Durr-Vorc anymore, and from here we would have to pass through the Rairla Forest to get to it. And once there, who knows what we would find!”

     “Why? What is there?” asked Evan, looking from Raide to Harb.

     “No one knows for sure,” Harb replied. “Only a few who set out to the Dead City ever returned alive, and upon their return they were so gibbering mad that it was nearly impossible to get any explanation from them. Generally, it is thought some kind of creature dwells there now, left behind by the Dark Hordes. The city is cursed, they say.”

      “So, you’re afraid to go to a place inhabited by a creature that nobody knows about?” Evan asked, not believing his ears. “I’ve seen maps! It is the fastest way to get into Termainia. I thought you were warriors!”

     “Just because we are warriors does not mean we are insane!” Raide retorted. “I knew a man that went there. Upon his return I no longer recognized him, so far gone was his mind!”

     “But what other choice do we have?” asked Evan. “As you’ve said, the other ways are not safe either.”

     “The boy is right,” Harb said to Raide. “We face danger wherever we go.”

     Raide frowned. “Fine, we shall strive for that road, but I say this, it does not bring me confidence. We could all die.”

     “We don’t know that. Have heart my friend,” Harb said. “Perhaps the road ahead holds less peril than you think.”

     “Perhaps…but right now, the present holds danger enough. Agrand is still out there somewhere. He may wait for us to leave the city, or he will come during the night.”

     “Indeed.” Harb thought for a moment. “I shall keep watch this night. If that devil comes here, I shall slay it.”

     “Beware my friend,” Raide said quickly. “He is endowed with dark magic and extremely dangerous. Do not try to fight him alone. Wake us, for I fear it will take all our strength to bring him down, if we can at all.”

     “And he has a dragon,” Evan added.

     Raide nodded. “He does, and such a beast has devices and cunning of its own. We must be very alert.”  

 

     That night, after a supper of roasted bird and red wine, a favorite meal of Harb’s, those who were to disembark the next morning retired early. Rhia slept alone in a room that had no windows and only one door. Raide and Evan slept just outside her room, a pile of weapons within easy reach. Harb slept in his own room, but had several of his servants on watch at all times.

      Evan found it hard to fall into slumber; his mind raced with nervous tension. What if Agrand attacked? He had heard what the Sundrak had been able to do, repelling Rhia’s power and battling her and Raide to the point where he nearly defeated them; only their timely plummet over the cliff saving them from that fate. If this servant of the Unnamed Lord was so powerful, was there really anything they could do to stop him? These thoughts finally lulled him into a troubled and restless sleep.

 

Chp cont...

They set out into the darkness, up onto the slopes of Mount Versidde. They could not take the road over the mountain, Raide warned, because the Sundrak would assuredly be watching that way. He did know another way that was seldom traveled, a path that cut along Mount Versidde’s northern slopes. It was dangerous, but the likelihood of being seen by the Sundrak or his Dragon was much less.

     It was agreed to follow Raide’s path, and they traveled without rest until sunrise—which dawned pale in a mostly-gray sky—pausing then for a short while beneath a lone pine tree. They had traveled out of areas where there was any substantial amount of greenery, save for a grayish-green moss with little blue flowers that grew on the rocks. This high up, the mountainside was a field of boulders spotted with the occasional gnarled tree stunted by exposure to the harsh elements. The path Raide was leading them on wove its way through the terrain like a snake, sometimes rising steeply or plummeting abruptly. A misstep at the wrong moment on this trail could lead to a disastrous result.

     If that wasn’t bad enough, it began to rain in a torrential downpour that soaked the travelers to the bone and made the rocks slick with water, adding to the already too-present danger the route they were taking presented. Numerous times Evan felt his worn calf-hide boots slip, and he had to quickly grasp the boulders nearest him, lest he fall off the mountainside.

     As midday approached, the rain began to lessen a little, and the travelers came across a raging river about thirty feet across that barreled its way down the steep mountain slope, wearing a swath several feet deep into the stone as it descended. A few hundred feet down the mountainside, the flow of water tumbled over a cliff and pounded into a deep pool about forty feet below. It cut directly through their path, and the only way across was to grasp a fraying rope that was suspended between to large boulders on each side of the stream and pull one’s self to the other side.

     Raide went first, lugging the packs with him. It took him several minutes as the water battered at him fiercely, trying to suck him down the mountain with it; the added weight of the packs didn’t help his cause any. On the other side, he procured another rope from his pack and flung one end across to Rhia, who caught it and tied it to Trina’s waist. If she was pulled downstream, then at least they would have a chance to pull her to safety. It was not needed however, as Trina made it across safely with Raide gently pulling on the rope tied to her to help her progress. Rhia went after her, and she too was successful in crossing.

     Evan went last, holding tightly to the rope, Raide’s tied about his waist. Stepping into the fast-flowing water, his feet instantly were sucked from underneath him, and he found himself clinging to the rope as the water threatened to carry him away. Slowly, hand over hand he edged across the torrent of water, Raide, Rhia and Trina shouting words of encouragement over the noise of the rushing flow.

     Suddenly, when Evan was halfway across the river, the rope he clung to snapped without warning. The end he still grasped to swung him towards the side of the river where his friends looked on in horror from, bashing him into the rocks that lined the riverside. His head hit a jutting rock with a glancing blow and he let go of the rope. The cord tied around his waste yanked Raide downstream. The wanderer held on bravely, but the downward momentum was too much, and tripping on a loose stone, he fell roughly. The rope was ripped from his grasp violently, burning his palms. The world around Evan began to spin as blood gushing from a wound on his forehead mingled with the water, and everything went black as he was tossed like a rag doll downstream and over the edge of the waterfall.

 

     Raide stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down into the deep pool of water forty feet below. There was no sign of Evan anywhere, only water and stone. He bowed his head and sighed. The boy could not have survived the fall unconscious, of that Raide was certain.

     Rhia and Trina stood a little ways behind him, their faces stony. The younger girl sniffed back tears, and then sat down upon a boulder and buried her head in hands.

     “He is gone then?” Rhia asked Raide quietly, stepping forward to stand next to him.

     “Yes,” replied Raide. “There is no chance the boy would survive a fall like that, not with such a head injury…It is my fault. I could not hold onto the rope…”

      Rhia put her hand on his shoulder. “No man could have succeeded, the river was too powerful.”

     “Yes, but…”

     At that moment a dark shadow passed quickly over them.

     “Get down!” Raide shouted, drawing his sword.

     Above them wheeled the distinct black form of a dragon. It gave a grating roar and dove down, buffeting the three people with the wind from its wings as it settled a little ways up the mountainside, between them and the path. Raide gritted his teeth. The Sundrak had them trapped, with the Dragon before them and the cliff behind them.

     “Give up the woman,” growled the Sundrak from its perch on the Dragon’s back, “and I shall spare the child!”

     “Never!” replied Raide. “Why don’t you come down and take her instead of hiding behind your dragon?”

      Silence. Then a thud and clank of metal. The dragon reared up, and the Sundrak stepped forward. It was clad in black armor from head to foot, with a cape of silver chain mail attached by two spikes to the armor at the shoulders. Upon its head was a silver helm. Two small dragon wings were splayed on each side near the dome of the helm, and the two narrow eye slits seemed to expel a thick mist as the creature walked. In its left hand the Sundrak clasped a pale silver sword, and in its right a human head.

     It flung the head at Raide, and looking down to where it rolled to stop at his feet, he saw in horror that it was the head of Groad the innkeeper.

     “You fool!” the Sundrak laughed. “Did you really think that you could escape me? I feel the woman’s presence always. Nowhere under this sun is there a place I cannot sense her. Now I shall take her to her rightful master, after I have killed you and the child!”

     “Stay back!” Rhia rushed next to Raide, silver staff in hand, red hair flowing wildly. “I am the Heart of Fire, and I hold the Secret Flame that your kind dares not oppose!”

     The Sundrak took another step, this one deliberate and taunting.

     From Rhia’s staff issued a yellow flame that lanced out like a bolt at the Sundrak.

     Laughing, the Sundrak swept it aside with a wave of his hand, causing the flame to turn black and disappear into a wisp of smoke. “Do not try your cheap tricks on me, witch!” it snarled. “I am not as weak as my brethren. Nay, I am Agrand, second only to Servain in the favor of Izyai, our Lord. I was with Servain when he struck down King Arden at Lavol, and now here I shall harness your fire and take you to my master, your rightful lord!”  

      Agrand reached towards Rhia with his free hand. Tendrils of black smoke issued from it, turning into cords that reached out at the Heart, threatening to bind her. Raide lashed out at them with his blade, cutting the cords into several pieces that fell to the ground.            

     “Death will find you quickly boy!” Agrand leapt towards Raide, silver blade held aloft. The wanderer blocked the blow with his own blade, but the force of the attack was so powerful and jarring it knocked him back. Rhia smote Agrand on the back with her staff as he bent towards the fallen Raide. It flashed a brilliant white for a moment, and knocked the Sundrak a dozen yards up the mountainside.

     Scrambling to his feet Raide noticed that Agrand’s dragon was preparing to attack Trina, having backed her to the edge of the cliff. He lunged towards them, just in time to see a column of flame issue from the dragon’s mouth. Trina tried to dodge it, but in her efforts stumbled on the edge of the cliff and tumbled off of it with a scream, splashing into the deep pool a few seconds later.

     His ire raised, he completely unable to help Trina, Raide rushed at the dragon and hacked at its neck with all his might, slicing a deep wound. The giant lizard reared back with a roar of pain, splattering green icor all about. It stumbled back, just as Rhia grabbed Raide’s arm and pushed him down. A split-second later a red beam of light shot overheard.

     Agrand, a red ball of light pulsing in his hand, advanced on them. He flung another beam, this one blocked by Rhia, who conjured a shield into the air; it exploded as the red beam hit it.

     “You cannot defeat me!” snarled Agrand. “The carrion shall pick your bones clean!” His sword suddenly sprung alight as a green flame licked across its surface. He swung it at Raide, who blocked the attack, but in doing so, watched in horror as his own sword melted into a silver puddle on the rocks. With his other hand, Agrand smote the wanderer with a blow across the cheek, knocking him down.

     Rhia knocked Agrand away from Raide again with a jab of her staff, the effect being as if the Sundrak was smote with a giant hand, knocking towards his dragon. The creature roared as its rider was struck, and it swept a large tail towards Raide and Rhia.    

     They both jumped back, but the gust wind displaced by the massive, spike-tipped tail knocked the two back even further than they wanted. Raide landed with his heels on the edge of the precipice. For a moment, he wavered, arms wind-milling the air. Then he plunged backwards and into space, Rhia following suit a moment later. As he fell, Raide saw the dragon come hurtling over the edge of the cliff, claws outstretched, trying to catch Rhia. Then water was everywhere as he hit the surface of the pool and sank into the icy depths. As he went down, he saw Rhia in the water as well, her eyes open and looking up towards the massive claws of the dragon that passed over her by less than a foot.

      Deep into the frigid water he sank, his leather clothes weighing him down like lead weights. Raide felt as if his lungs would burst, and he watched in sad fascination as the last air bubbles passed between his lips.

      Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a gray form swimming swiftly towards him in the water. Raide felt strong hands grasp him beneath the arms, and he experienced the strange sensation of being weightless as he was propelled towards a dark opening in the wall of the cliff, right below the waterfall. A moment later, he was lying on the edge of a small pool of water at the mouth of a large cave.

     Coughing and gasping, he saw Rhia beside him on her hands and knees, wiping the water from her eyes. Sitting up, Raide saw two creatures crouched nearby. They were almost human in basic form, but their skin was a sickly gray and their eyes were large and luminous. Large feet and hands betrayed webbing between the fingers and toes, and both creatures wore leotards that looked to be fashioned out of some kind of dark fabric. They were both bald as well, but the creature on the right had a black splotch on its right shoulder, similar to a burn mark.

      This one spoke first. “Welcome humans,” it said in a reedy voice, spreading its arms wide. “I am Vrissh. From danger you have fallen, into safety Grooshla and I have brought you.” It motioned to its companion

     “We thank you for this Vrissh, and you as well Grooshla,” said Rhia, nodding respectfully to the creatures. “What of our other companion? Did you also see her fall into the pool?”

     “You mean your other two companions?” Vrissh asked. “We rescued them both. The boy came first, with a wound to the head. But tended to him we have, and he shall live. Both he and the girl are safe in our home.”

     Raide looked about in wonder. This cave they were in was large with smooth surfaces everywhere, and numerous torches fashioned to the walls lit it brightly. There was a pile of nets fashioned from reeds piled in a corner, and a passage at the back of the cave led away, presumably to Vrissh and Grooshla’s home.

     “If you would pardon my asking,” he said to the two creatures. “What are you?”

     “We are Jraa, and long have our kind dwelt in the waterways and passages in the mountain.” Vrissh stood, and Raide and Rhia saw that he was probably at least seven feet tall. “However, the time for many words is not yet at hand. You are our guests, and we shall feed and comfort you as is proper. Once that is done, then we can speak. Come!”

     Vrissh and Grooshla led Rhia and Raide out of the cave, through the passage, and into another cave. This one was smaller, but more homely.  Torches were the source of light here too, and reed mats covered the ground. Dried fish hung from hooks on the walls, and baskets full of dried plants were clustered in a corner, as were several clay jars. On a flat raised spur of stone dozens of blankets were piled, creating a large sleeping space.

     Sitting on this spur were both Evan and Trina. Evan had a cloth bandage stained with blood wrapped around his head just above the eyes, and both he and Trina were wrapped in blankets.

     Trina gave a cry of relief upon seeing Raide and Rhia, and she jumped up to give the red-headed young woman a hug, while Evan looked solemnly at the older man.

     “Trina told me what happened,” he said.

     “Yes, we were lucky to get away,” Raide replied. “Our luck has not been good thus far, and this Sundrak wielded power equal to Rhia’s.”

      “Come, come!” Vrissh said, laying a long-fingered hand on Raide’s shoulder. “Victuals you need, and rest!”

      “I thank you Vrissh,” Raide said. “But we cannot stay long. That thing that attacked us will kill us all if we linger here. I would not put either you or Grooshla in danger. ”

      “Nonsense,” spoke up Grooshla, his voice a little deeper than Vrissh’s. “We are well hidden, and never has an enemy been able to locate our dwelling. Even such evil as you have faced would be hard pressed to come here. Besides, the great flying lizard does not swim.”

      “He is right,” pointed out Rhia. “Agrand will be hard pressed to find us here, but he will wait. We can’t stay hidden, and if we linger too long he will summon others than can get to us, but I do not think a night here will worsen our position unduly.”

     Raide shrugged. “Very well.”

     Vrissh clapped his hands together. “Ah, good, good! Come, eat!” In a moment, he had produced a platter of dried fish, a pile of wild berries picked from the thorny yellowish plants that grew sparsely on the mountainside, and a jar of cool, clear water. The four travelers ate heartily, glad to fill their stomachs.
     When they had eaten their fill, Vrissh took Raide and Rhia aside while Grooshla entertained Evan and Trina with Jraa lore.

     “Alarm you is something I do not wish to do,” Vrissh said in a low voice, the torchlight flickering weirdly off his blue skin, “but strange vibrations I have felt recently in the stone of the mountain. Something tries to penetrate it, I believe. Perhaps to get to you.”

     “Agrand,” Raide said grimly.

     “He must be trying to blast down the mountain!” Rhia exclaimed. “He will not stop trying to destroy us, not while he bends to the Unnamed Lord’s commands!”

     “The Lord of Darkness you speak of?” Vrissh asked, flexing his long, webbed fingers rapidly. “He who poisoned half the world with his army of blight?”

     “Yes,” Rhia replied. “He seeks to capture me.”

     “Never before have we encountered his kind of evil,” said Vrissh. “But years ago, when the world was a bit younger and our interaction with your kind greater, the human traders that bartered with us for our wares spoke of his grievous and terrible deeds. If servants of such a being seek you, we shall do all we can to help you escape them.”

     “But how?” Raide asked, his voice laced with doubt. “Agrand can feel wherever Rhia goes. There is no way we can hide from him.”

     “Evil this being is, but immortal he is not?” Vrissh asked Rhia.

     “Immortality has only been granted to a few that walk this earth,” she replied. “Agrand is not one of them, nor are any of the Unnamed Lord’s other servants.”

     “Then, to a place this enemy would not dare assail alone we shall lead you,” Vrissh said. “Through the mountain, upon the hidden waterways of our people we shall take you. To the great city at the base of this mountain’s eastern slopes we will travel.”

     “To Kair-Leonid?” Raide asked incredulously. “The tunnels will lead us all the way to it?”

     “Yes,” Vrissh said. “Grooshla and I shall take you as soon as you are ready.” He paused as a faint tremor could be felt in the stone underfoot. “Within the hour would be best, else your enemy may yet find this place.”

      Gathering a basket of provisions for the journey, the Jraas led the travelers down a dark passage until they emerged in a low cavern with a shelf of stone that abruptly dropped away at the edge of an underground river. Two flat, leaf-shaped boats bobbed in the water, tied to an outcropping of stone to keep the vessels from being swept away by the strong current that rushed by in the darkness beneath the mountain.

      Evan and Raide got into one boat; Rhia and Trina the other. Vrissh and Grooshla tied ropes around their waists, and then the other ends to the prows of the boats, sliding into the frigid water.

      “Sleep you should attempt,” Vrissh said to Evan and Raide as he untied the boat from its mooring and let it slide into the swift current. “The journey will take at least half a day, and night is already beginning to fall outside.”

      Evan didn’t know how Vrissh knew that night was falling, but he didn’t question the Jraa’s words. Instead, he lay back in the boat; it was flat and relatively smooth, with enough room for both he and Raide to lie in side by side.

      “What is going on?” he asked, as the wanderer bundled a blanket underneath his head for a pillow. He had not been informed of anything concerning their impending journey through the mountain.

      “We’re going to Kair-Leonid,” Raide replied, turning on his side, with his back to Evan. 

      “But why? What is this thing that attacked you? I deserve to know what is going on!” Evan felt his face flush with impatience.

      Raid turned to Evan, his face twisted into a dark scowl. “You deserve to know what I think you should know!” he growled. “We are going to Kair-Leonid because the Sundrak can feel Rhia wherever she goes, and it will destroy the mountain to get at her unless we go somewhere it wouldn’t dare attack us in the open. Now go to sleep!”

     He rolled over and was silent.

     Evan fumed to himself as he stared into the darkness. Raide had offered a truce, but he was still as callous and brusque as before, and Evan knew that the struggle between them was not over. He still didn’t trust the older man, not wholly, and resolved to keep his eyes and ears open in Kair-Leonid in case Raide tried something.

     Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The city on the other side of the mountain was still leagues away, and he badly needed rest.

Chp cont...

Here is chapter 4. Enjoy...

CHAPTER FOUR

 

      Evan awoke the next morning before Rhia and Trina. The sky was overcast, and wind was blowing that was cool, not cold. Raide was crouched over a small fire he had lit just outside of the grove, and on it he was roasting a large hare; Evan surmised that he must have gotten up early and gone hunting. The boy went over to the fire and sat down opposite the man of nearly twenty-five seasons.

      Raide glanced up at Evan's approach. "Are you going to keep questioning my judgment?" he asked in a low voice, turning the hare over on a rough spit he had constructed. "We were lucky to get out of that mess alive."

      "I...no," Evan replied. "In terms of our route, I will say no more unless it seems like great folly."

     "Good. I am the only one who knows the quickest route through Penhgost, and we'll only be slowed if you and the woman keep banding against me."

     "Hey, we're all in this together," Evan protested. He decided to voice his doubts. "Why should we simply follow you blindly? You wanted to kill her originally. What if you're leading us somewhere where you have friends that feel the same as you do about Rhia? You could be trying to have Trina and I locked away so you can do her in without my interference."

     "Do not question my honor boy!" Raide's face was contorted with a suppressed fury. "I am a man of my word. I said I would try to help return her to her home, and that I am going to do! Neither of you knows this land! She has been locked away for over a century, and before we embarked you hadn't been twenty leagues away from Yeolin in your life! I know the way, and I would appreciate it if you didn't question my decisions at every turn. Will you do the same when we enter Termainia? One misstep and we all die!"

     "I am not the only one at fault," Evan retorted.

     "Aye, she sides with you. Neither of you trust me."

     "Because you wanted to kill her!"

     "But I didn't!" Raide replied. "Believe me Evan, had I not cared an inkling about you interfering, neither of you could have stopped me." His voice dropped, and the anger left it. "We have to work together. There is too much danger in this world for us to be bickering amongst ourselves. It will only make our attempt that much more likely to fail."

      Evan nodded. "Fine, but could you please let us know your plans before you lead us somewhere we have no knowledge about? We have a right to know."

      "If I see fit." Raide took the hare off the spit and gave it to Evan. "I'm going to wake the others. We need to head out as soon as possible."

     They set out a half hour later, after everyone had consumed a bit of breakfast. The going became difficult after about two hours of hard walking; the rough terrain became even hillier as they drew nearer to the Pennhgin Mountains. The number of trees increased as well, and by midday the land all around them was blanketed in forest. It was not quaint and peaceful as the one around Yeolin had been, but dark and stifling, and seemed to exude an ominous air. The tall pines loomed thick, and the ground was a mass of dead branches and pine needles, and the group was hard-pressed to locate any form of wildlife as they traveled along.

      At midday, they took rest on a stone ledge midway up a steep hill. They were completely undetectable from the air due to the thickness of the tree foliage above, so the group of travelers relaxed; the likelihood of being found by the dragon that had been plaguing them was incredibly small.

      Dangling his legs off of the ledge, Evan surveyed the landscape, looking down into the murky semi-darkness they had climbed out of. Trina sat next to him, following his gaze with her eyes.

      "Do you ever wish we were back in Yeolin, the way it used to be?" she asked softly.

      "Sometimes..." Evan glanced at her, and then looked away. "Its hard to imagine life before...I know its only been a few days, but all I can think of is seeing everything destroyed, and realizing that everyone is dead...everything we ever knew is gone. It makes me angry, angry at everything. I just want to help Rhia get home."

      "What about after that? What will you do?"

      "I want to fight against the Dark Hordes," Evan confessed. "I want to avenge our village. I know I shouldn't, and Rhia doesn't want me to, but they all died because of her, and I don't want them to added to the list of all those killed by the enemy and then forgotten. They need to be remembered. They deserve to be remembered."

     "But you are not a warrior, how can you fight them?" Trina asked. "You are only sixteen seasons old! War is for men of honor, and courage, like Raide."

     "I will learn," Evan replied firmly. "I have to try. I know no other purpose for my life, and if the Unnamed Lord wins, then there will be no need for a purpose!"

     Trina looked at him with sorrowful eyes. "I am afraid for you Evan."

     Evan stared at his hands, and then clenched them into fists. "I know. I am afraid for us all."

 

      The group of travelers reached Calimon an hour before sunset that evening. The town was situated high in the foothills of Mount Versidde, nestled between two hills at the head of the path over the mountains. It was a way station for those traveling to the towns on outer edges of Penhgost, like Yeolin, and for those going to the heart of the Empire, to Kair-Leonid, and then on to Adrala, the crown jewel of Penhgost and its capital city, where the King resided. Calimon itself was a mass of inns, taverns, stables, shops, and cottages, all clustered together between the two hills. Roughly three times the size of Yeolin, it was very dirty, the buildings dingy and dark, the streets muddy and putrid. But it was a beehive of activity, for many traders passed through and spent time in Calimon, and the air was alive with voices of traders haggling over prices from the stands they had set up upon the crowded main causeway through the town.

     With Raide leading the way, they wound through the crowds, ignoring the shouts of the rough-looking traders, who leered at Rhia and Trina and made crass remarks as they passed. The wanderer paused before a ramshackle, two story building, a broken sign that spelled out "The Lame Goat Inn" swinging in the evening breeze.

     Evan looked at it dubiously. "Are we to stay here?"

     "Yes," Raide replied. "The owner is a friend who owes me a favor. I'm sure he'll let us have a room for the night."

     "Can we be sure this friend is an honest man?" Rhia asked. "All I can sense in this place is lies and lust and anger."

     "You just have to trust me," responded Raide. "Come on."

     Pushing through the door, they found themselves in a low, dim room, lit only by a smoldering fireplace over which was mounted the head of a goat. There was counter next to the door, and a half-dozen rough wooden tables surrounded by rickety chairs scattered about haphazardly; a narrow stairwell at the back of the room led, presumably, to the second floor. Only a handful of beings were in the room: three men wearing dirty leather jerkins and looking as if they needed to shave, and a fat, bald man with a short blond goatee slouched behind the counter.

     The fat man looked up as they entered, and his face contorted into a look of surprise as he saw Raide. "What 'n the devil are ye doin 'ere?" he asked, wiping his hands on a dirty-white apron he had tied around his waist. "I thought ye'd had enough ah this dingy auld town?"

     "I'm afraid pressing business had forced my return. How are you Groad?" Raide replied stiffly.

     "Ah've been better. Business is slow, but nary any trouble round ere. Ye looking fer a room tonight?"

     Raide nodded, and leaned towards Groad. "I was hoping you could repay that favor you owe me."

     "Aww, damn Raide, ye'll make meh go outta business. Alrigh', room five es open, but yer friends'll have te sleep on the floor. I cannae afford tae give ye two rooms."

     "Thank you, old friend. Can we get some supper perhaps?"

     "Ye, ah'll have me wife make ye somethin'. We've got a fair amount ah stew left. Go an sit an it'll be out in a tick."

     They crowded around a low table in the corner, nearest to the fireplace, and waited.

     After a moment, Raide stood. "I've got a bit of business to attend to," he said. "I'll be back later. If I'm not back when you're finished eating, go up to the room. This is a rough town, and none of you should be wandering about, especially after dark." Then he was gone, the door to the inn thudding shut behind him.

     Rhia, Evan, and Trina waited in silence. The only noise was that of Groad arguing with his wife in the kitchen, and the three men muttering to themselves as they sat around their own table on the opposite side of the room. Occasionally they cast strange glances towards the traveler’s table, making Evan nervous. As Raide had said, this place was dangerous, and he knew one boy and two girls that all looked to be less than twenty seasons old would be prime targets for all sorts of trouble.

     Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Evan, Groad's wife brought out three bowls of steaming meat stew. She was slight and had dirty-blond hair that was tied in a bun, and her rough cotton dress was stained so much that it was hard to tell what the original color had been. Her face was beginning to wrinkle, and her hands were rough, showing signs of a hard lifestyle, but her smile was kind, though she did not say a word, and this encouraged the three as they began to dig into the stew, which was rather good.

      They had all nearly finished when Evan heard the scraping of a chair being pulled back. Looking up from his stew, his heart fell as he saw one of the men, a large fellow with face full of stubble and large, squat nose walking slowly towards them, each pace deliberate and heavy. He stopped next to their table, looking directly at Rhia, his face twisting into a leering smile.

     "Weel, naow," he said loudly, "ah couldn't help but te notice you've gotta right pretty face, lil' lady!"

     "Thank you sir," Rhia replied in a low voice without looking at the man. "Now, if you'd excuse me, I'd like to finish my supper."

     "Awh, naow wait a min', ah was jus gunna invite ye ta mah table fer a drink. Me an ma buddies'd like ta talk a little with ye. We ain't had the honor ah a lady's company in ah long spell."  

     "Thank you, but I'd rather not."

     "What?? Ah, come on, don' be like thet!" The man grasped Rhia by the arm and pulled her out of her chair roughly.

     Evan was on his feet in a flash and confronting Rhia's very large problem. "She said no!" he said fiercely, glaring at the man, who was much bigger than he.

     "Ain't thet a shame. Ah don' give a damn. Siddown boy!" Quick as a flash, the man swung a ham-like fist towards Evan, connecting with the side of the boy's face, sending him sprawling onto his back, dazed. A bruise began to quickly form on his right cheek.

     The man laughed, and pulled Rhia toward his table, but the young woman resisted, grinding hard down on the man's foot with her heel while elbowing him right in the gut. With a quick twist, she escaped his grasp as her assailer stumbled back, winded.

     "You lil' whore!" he gasped. "Ah'll teach ye ta do thet!" He lunged forward.

     However, a flying boot in the face altered his plans as Rhia dealt him a roundhouse kick, bloodying the man's nose and knocking him back over one of the empty tables, breaking it.

     Instantly, things turned ugly as the man's two companions fell deathly silent, and then quickly got to their feet, nasty looks on their faces. Evan scrambled up off the floor and stood beside Rhia, touching his own face gingerly.

     "What es goin' on out 'ere?" Groad shouted, coming out of the kitchen, his face etched with a look of alarm.

     "Never ye mind Groad," one of the men spat. "We're sortin' out ah lil' problem."

     He and his partner advanced on Rhia and Evan, drawing rusty daggers from their belts, while the man Rhia had knocked down got painfully to his feet, his face spattered with blood that flowed from his broken nose.  

     "Hold out your hand," Rhia whispered to Evan.

     "What?"

     "Just do it!"

     Evan thrust out his hand.

     Rhia produced her short, silver staff seemingly out of thin air, and tapped Evan's hand with it and withdrew in an instant.

     A split-second later, Evan felt a heavy weight in his hand, and looked down in surprise to see a long knife in his palm, the hilt gold and studded with sapphires. He grasped it and faced the men.

     "Did ye see thet!" one of the men gasped. "She conjured thet lil' knife with 'er lil' silver stick!"

     "She's ah witch!" growled the man with a broken nose. "Let's stick 'er like a steer an bleed thet witchcraft right outta 'er!"

     They advanced menacingly.

     Rhia whirled her staff about in an arch. The golden jewel that capped the staff blinked, spraying a sparkling yellow mist towards the men. As it reached them, it disintegrated their weapons, leaving ash in their hands.

     The men faltered visibly, crying out in surprise looking fearfully at the staff and at Rhia.

     "Leave," she said in a cold, commanding voice, her eyes drilling the men with a stony stare.

     Slowly, the men backed away, muttering curses and eyeing the silver rod in Rhia's hand. After they were well out of the young woman's reach, they hurried out of the inn, parting curses flung over their shoulders as they left.

     Groad stared nervously at Rhia from the behind the safety of the counter. "Ah, ah dunno what ye've done with thet lil' stick, but get up n' yer room afore ah kick ye out!" he said loudly. "Ye'll stir up trouble ye aught not te have if yer face is showin much longer!"

     Rhia, Evan and Trina did so without argument. They knew very well that Groad was right. If those men were anything like they seemed, they'd spread word about Rhia as fast as they could, and then try and get a band together to come kill her. Her and her 'witchcraft'.

     Their room was a bare cube with a small window and a single lumpy mattress on a rickety wooden frame jammed in one corner; the floor was dirty and a dented chamber pot sat in the corner. The moon provided the only light, casting a gray band into the otherwise dark room. Trina and Rhia shared the bed, while Evan laid his cloak out on the rough wooden floorboards and tried to sleep.  

     Little sleep was to come, however, because the nightlife of Calimon—mainly drunken hunters and merchants wandering about the streets shouting—was very lively into the early morning hours. On occasion, a fight could be heard breaking out, and the night would grow even louder, and to himself Evan worried that one of those instances could be a mob coming to find Rhia.

     Raide came into the room about an hour past midnight. Treading as softly as he could as not to wake the girls, he shook Evan awake, who had been dozing fitfully.

     “What is it?” asked the young man groggily, squinting in the light of the candle that the older man held.

     “We have a problem. Come with me,” Raide replied in a whisper. “Bring that.” He motioned to the dagger conjured by Rhia that was lying on the ground next to Evan’s head; he had put it there within easy reach just in case it was needed.

     They crept down the stairs and into the main room of the inn. Everything was dark inside, but the light of torches outside shone through the smudged windows. Keeping low, Raide crept beneath the window closest to the front door, with Evan following right behind. Putting his ear up to the window, the older man motioned for quiet.

     Voices could be heard outside, and peering discreetly over the windowsill, Evan could see two men talking, flanked by others holding torches. The man on the right looked as he could have been one of the men from earlier, and the other was a taller, broad-shouldered figure wearing a black cloak and hood that obscured his features completely in the torchlight.  

     “You do not speak lies?” said the one in the cloak, his voice extremely husky and guttural, almost in a growl.

     “Nah,” said the other, scuffing his boot in the dirt. “She’s in thar alrigh’. Ah had Brugg watch te make sure o’ thet. She an’ two younguns, a boy an’ a girl are with er’.”

     “And she wields magic?”

     “Yeh, some silver stick. She conjured a dagger outta the air wit’ it.” The man folded his arms. “Come naow, ye promised me coin fer this information.”

     The cloaked figure withdrew a small pouch and dropped it on the ground, the other man scrabbling for it. Then, it drew a long sword from the folds of its black garb. It turned towards the inn.

     “Wha’ are ye gonna do?” asked the man who was on his knees, pouch of money in hand.

     “Kill the children,” was the response. “The woman cannot be harmed, but the children, they must die. They will know too much.”

     Raide grasped Evan’s arm. “Evan, go!” he hissed. “Wake them and go out the back. I’ll hold that thing here! Go!”

     Evan scrambled to his feet and dashed upstairs. He flung open the door to the room with a bang.

     “Evan! What is it?” Rhia asked, sitting up alertly.

     Evan told her in halting gasps. “Someone’s here…to kill you! We…have to get…out of here!”

     Rhia nodded. Waking Trina, she and Evan gathered up their packs with haste.

     There was a crash, shouting, and then the clanging of sword on sword coming from downstairs.

     Rhia flung open the window and looked down. It was about twenty feet to the ground. With a click of her fingers, a thin silver cord appeared coiled at her feet. Tying it to the frame of the bed, she flung the packs out the window. Trina went first down the cord, sliding and landing with a soft thump on the hard ground. Evan was next, and then Rhia followed him, expertly sliding down the cord.

     Gathering their packs, the three dashed away from the inn and up a side street that ended where the forest surrounding Calimon began. Reaching the dark overhanging trees, they dove behind a moss-covered log.

     Evan turned just in time to see the inn explode brilliantly into white flames with a tremendous bang. A moment later, the lone figure of Raide could be seen sprinting up the street towards them, while dark figures surrounded the burning inn, shouting to one another. A bell began to clang.

     Raide located Evan, Rhia and Trina a moment later, and he slumped against the log, panting. There was a cut on his left arm, his hair singed, and his face very red from the intense heat he must have encountered.

     There was a loud whooshing noise, and a large, winged creature, a black dragon, came into view as it hovered above the blazing inn. Wisps of flame issued from its nostrils, and its black scales glimmered in the firelight. It dropped like a rock on the building, smashing the structure and sending blazing fragments all about. A moment later, a dark figure appeared on its back. The massive lizard rose into the air, gave a grating roar, and winged its way into the darkness to the north, blotting out the moon momentarily.

     Raide lay back, gasping for breath. “I have not encountered such a thing before,” he said. “Such strength…It could have hewn me in two had it gotten the chance...”

     Rhia looked at him with a dark expression. “Did you see its face?”

     “No, it was mostly obscured in shadow, and a swirling mist covered its face whenever the light hit it,” Raide replied. “Some work of devilry.”

     “Worse,” Rhia said. “A Sundrak, one of the Unnamed Lord’s assassins. One killed my guards and tried to capture me while I was still in Termainia, before the Dark Hordes had reached Lavol. They are their Lord’s most skilled warriors, and wielders of the Dark Arts. It must have been the Sundrak that set the inn afire...”

     Evan and Trina sat in silence, looking out at the blazing ruins of what had been the Lame Goat Inn.

     “An assassin?” Raide’s face also grew dark and troubled. “I have battled many a foul creature and man, but never have I encountered magic-wielding devil that follows the Unnamed Lord’s commands! I do not know if I can protect you from such a threat.”

     “Do not worry,” Rhia replied. “As long as we are not caught unawares I can repel it. I have done so before. But now, let us leave this place. Soon someone will start to search for us, and with the trouble that has followed us, it can be assured our exchange with them will be unfriendly.”

The night passed without incident, and the morning dawned not with the arrival of the sun, but with gray clouds stretching across the sky as far as the eye could see. Raide still said nothing, and ate a breakfast of fish without even glancing over at the others, who did the same, sobered by his dark mood.

      After everyone had finished eating they gathered up their cloaks and satchels and set off down the side of the valley wall. The going was difficult, for the boulders shifted underfoot, and it was hard to keep one's balance. But, after a good twenty minutes of cautious descent, they reached the green valley floor. Tall wavy grass met them, and the ground was slightly spongy, as if the entire basin was saturated in water. Raide made Evan and Rhia lead the way, and he followed a ways behind Trina, a scowl etched on his face. The going was fairly slow because often they would encounter muddy ground that their feet sank into up to the ankles, and it was a struggle to get out of the waterlogged ground again. Evan, picking his way from dry patch of land to the next, which were difficult to see because of the tall grass, became increasingly frustrated. Perhaps Raide had been right, they might have been better off going around. But, looking over his shoulder and seeing the edge of the valley getting farther and farther away all the time, Evan decided to press on.

      Proceeding in this fashion, the group traveled for about five hours, and were only about halfway across when midday hit, accompanied by a baking heat as the sun beat down upon them from a cloudless, deep blue sky. Coming upon a small island in the wet valley, a low hillock with a half-dozen willow trees growing atop it, Evan and Rhia agreed that they should rest there and take a short midday meal. Sitting down in the grass, thankful for firm ground, shade, and a place to rest his mud-caked and weary legs, Evan looked towards the horizon. Before them lay exactly what they had just come through, and now the heat of the day was upon them in all its strength-sapping fury. Taking a drink of water from a flask he had filled at the edge of one of the small lakes they had passed, the boy of fifteen seasons chewed thoughtfully on a piece of venison.

      "I'd say five hours more until we reach the other side," he said.

      Rhia, crouching and rummaging through her pack for her own flask, which she handed to Trina, nodded. "Aye, we've made decent time, and we're lucky there is plenty of water about. We'd have assuredly run out if we had gone around."

      She glanced at Raide, who stood at the base of the hillock, slashing waywardly at the tall grass with his sword, glancing occasionally towards the horizon. He still had not said a word, and showed no intention of resting or eating.

      "He'll run himself into the ground if he doesn't take rest," Rhia said in a low voice to Evan and Trina. "He shows all the signs of a true warrior, but has not the common sense of a leader."

      Evan nodded and stretched out on the cool grass. "We'll have to take charge then, if he's going to be foolish—”

      He was interrupted as Raide came dashing up the small hill. "Get off the hill! Into the tall grass!" he shouted, hauling Evan up roughly by his arm.

     "What is it?" Evan asked.

     "Danger!" Raide shoved Evan down the hill into the tall grass and flung his satchel after the boy. Herding Rhia and Trina down the hill, back into the waterlogged grasslands, the wanderer flung himself alongside Evan. "Don't make a move!" he hissed.

     "What is it?" Evan whispered.

     Raide held up his hand. There, faint but growing louder, was the familiar sound of something large flying through the air. A moment later, a large shadow passed over them, and the massive form of a black lizard could be seen winging its way to the south. After a few minutes, it became a tiny speck on the horizon.

     "I suppose that was a foolish thing to do?" Raide asked Evan, standing up, his front wet and muddy.

     Evan felt his face burn with shame. "No...It wasn't."

     "Then perhaps you'll stop speaking ill of me when you think I'm not listening." Stalking back up onto the hill, Raide opened his pack and took a drink from his flask. "We're no longer safe. I had thought that the dragon and whoever is riding it would have searched the other villages along the coast, allowing us more time to get away, but they must have felt you moving inland. Everyone must keep a weather eye out from now on, or we'll be caught unawares."

     As if to punctuate his words, there was a sudden rustling in the tall grass, and in an instant, the hill was surrounded by a mass of small dark figures, numbering at least two dozen. They were like monkeys, but their skin was smooth and slimy, and sharp little teeth glinted in mouths that released screeching snarls. They stood only as high as Raide's waist, but there were a lot of them. In a concentrated mass they rushed the travelers, who quickly backed up onto the hill.

     Raide drew his sword and threw a dagger to Evan that he had taken from a small scabbard on his left hip, while Rhia produced a silver staff about three feet long and capped with a golden jewel. Forming a ring around Trina, who was defenseless, they lashed out as the creatures threw themselves on them.

     Evan stabbed the first that jumped at him and stifled a cry as another latched itself into his leg with sharp claws and bit his calf. Lashing out with his leg instinctively, he managed to kick the creature off, and bring his dagger up in time to fend off another. Rhia, moving with cat-like grace, whirled through the throng of creatures, rendering one after another senseless with a sharp rap from her strange staff. Raide went on the offensive, not contend to defend, and he cut down each creature he came upon with ruthless efficiency, yelling horrible curses into the air.

     The creatures, frightened at Raide's rampage, abandoned their assault after only a few minutes, scampering back into the thick grass. A moment later, there was no sign of a live one anywhere; about twenty had been killed. Rolling one of the corpses onto its back, Raide examined it with disgust. "Kreeva! Damn things, must have tunnels in the dry parts of the valley. They hunt in packs, though they don't usually attack humans..."

     "They will be back with even greater numbers if we don't leave this place," Rhia warned. "I can feel their presence growing."

     "Right, come on." Raide hoisted his pack over his shoulder and set out, taking up the lead. The others followed, entering the marshy grasslands once again and trudging along as fast as they could manage. The going was even more difficult as the mud grew thicker and deeper, and then turned to water, knee-deep and lukewarm. They were moving along without thought or care to their route; they only wanted to get away as fast as they could manage.            

     Shrill cries behind them in distance lent speed to their weary legs, and looking over his shoulder Evan could see the grass moving as the Kreeva pursued them, catching up quickly.

     Suddenly, all four of the fleeing travelers crashed through a line of tall grass and found only the placid surface of a lake before them. There was an immediate drop-off at the lake's edge, and Evan, unable to stop, tumbled into the cool, murky water. He found himself struggling to stay afloat as his pack weighed him down, threatening to pull down beneath the surface. Rhia and Raide were experiencing similar problems, and Trina was spluttering and coughing, having swallowed a mouthful of water when she crashed into the lake. The Kreeva gathered on the edge of the shore and watched with fascination at the floundering humans, screeching and gesturing to one another.

     Spying a large log floating a little way away, snarled in some reeds, Raide struck out after it, and finding it extremely buoyant, tugged it through the water to the others, hoisting his pack upon it as he did so. The others followed his example, having been on the verge of letting their packs sink to avoid drowning.

     "Agh," Raide said, spitting water. "We should use this log to get across the lake. It'll be a sight better then going back to deal with the Kreeva."

     Evan, Rhia, and Trina nodded in agreement, so they set out across the small lake, each holding to the side of the log swimming alongside it. Their progress was slow, but the cool water was refreshing in the heat of the day. The lake was a murky bluish-brown, and Evan wondered if anything other than fish dwelt in it, but he quickly banished that thought, not wanting to become paranoid; if there was something in the depths of the lake that would be a danger to them, there was precious little they could do about it.

     It was tiring work, but close to an hour later they reached the opposite bank of the lake. Unlike the side they had come from, this one was relatively dry, and the four weary travelers crawled up onto it, sopping wet and dragging their waterlogged packs with them. Evan sprawled out upon the soggy ground amidst the tall blades of green-brown grass. He felt as if he could sleep anywhere, he was so exhausted. But Raide, wary of the danger that still existed, bade them all to get up.

     "We need to get out of the valley," he said, wiping wet hair out of his eyes and unsheathing his sword and wiping it dry on the ground. "The Kreeva will find us eventually if we stay here. It should only take a few hours, and then we'll call it day, agreed?"

     Too tired to argue, the others nodded in agreement, and raising themselves back up on weary limbs, the travelers struggled onwards. Evan and Trina brought up the rear, supporting each other, while Rhia walked a few paces in front of them; Raide led the way, his pace determined, but decidedly slower than it had been all day. The going was a painful crawl as they encountered more muddy ground and tiny lakes that they had to skirt, but eventually, with the setting sun at their backs, they scrambled up the rocky valley wall and emerged back into the wild lands.

     Finding a suitable camp in a small grove of scraggly pine trees that was situated in a small, rocky dell a quarter-mile from the valley's edge, the four exhausted souls cast their packs aside and spread out their cloaks upon the pine needles. They fell asleep within minutes, just as the sun withdrew its final rays of golden radiance from the sky, heedless of any dangers that were about.

So, here is chapter 3...enjoy...?

CHAPTER THREE

 

     They had not gone far into the woodlands when the three travelers halted suddenly. A large shadow had passed over them, momentarily blotting out any rays of sunlight that had managed to slip through the tree canopy, accompanied by the whooshing sound of air being displaced by massive wings.

     "Lizdra!" Raide hissed, his hand on his sword hilt. "Dragons! They've come back! Let us fly from here as fast as we can!"

     "Wait!" Evan said suddenly. "What is that noise?"

     Faintly, the sound of someone crying could be heard drifting between the trees.

     "It is a cry of sorrow," Rhia said.

     Evan hurried through the woods toward the noise. That voice was familiar...

     "Evan!" Raide whispered furiously, and then hurried after the boy.

     Coming upon the source of the noise in small, fern-shrouded hollow, Evan's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Trina?"

     "Evan!" Trina, her face blackened by soot, her clothing ripped and singed, scrambled from the hollow and embraced Evan tightly, a look of sorrow mixed with fear etched on her face.

     "How did your survive the attack?" asked Raide. "We thought no one escaped."

     "I...don't know," Trina replied brokenly. "I heard people screaming...heard the wind roaring...and then our house exploded into flame...my mother and I, we ran outside...but the black lizard was there...it killed everyone...I ran, and I thought for sure that it would crush me or set me afire...but it didn't...I hid in the forest...saw it destroy everything! Everyone...everyone is dead!" She buried her head in Evan's shoulder as sobs wracked her body.

     "We are in great peril if we linger in this place," Rhia said solemnly from where she stood, a little way away amidst the ferns.

     "Please...don't leave me here!" Trina said with a cry.

     Raide looked at her with a frown on his face. "We will be slowed down..."

     "You would leave her here?" Evan asked incredulously. "There is nothing about for leagues! She will either starve, or that thing will find her!"

     Rhia stepped next to Raide. "I agree with the young one, we cannot allow her to perish out in the wild, or by the hand of the enemy," she said in a gentle voice. “Such cruel uncaring is what defines the enemy.”

     Raide scowled. "Fine, but the moment we reach Calimon, we find a place for her to stay. I will not have all our lives endangered by a defenseless child that cannot protect herself!"

     There was an air of finality in his voice, and Evan knew better than to argue with Raide; they were still too close to danger and needed to put as many leagues between themselves and the ruins of Yeolin as possible, especially since the dragon was about. Following the wanderer as best they could, with Evan and Rhia helping a grief-stricken Trina along, the travelers once again left behind the quaint woodlands that bordered the sea and set out into the harsh wild lands beyond. It was one hundred leagues to Calimon, the nearest town, and Raide made very clear his desire to be there within a fortnight.

     They traveled at a steady pace all day, taking only brief breaks for water and a quick midday meal of venison and preserved fruit. The heat was sweltering and the rough, stony terrain meant there were fewer and fewer trees to provide shade, but still Raide marched, ignoring pleas for him to lessen his pace, forcing the others to stumble after him as best they could manage. Many times, Evan lost sight of him, and would scramble up a hill just in time to see Raide disappear behind the crest of another.

     In the distance, the massive Pennhgin Mountains could be seen looming up into the sky, their summits capped in ice, imposing themselves on the otherwise empty canvas of the horizon; all the land between the travelers and mountain foothills seemed as foreboding and wild as the ground they were currently traversing. Great gashes in the land could be made out faintly, and as the group came upon them, they found deep chasms with rivers racing their way along the depths, and the group traveled along the edges of these for a time, before their route led them away again and back into the rocky hills.

     As the evening wore on, and the sun began to wash the Pennhgin Mountains in a fiery light, Raide, Evan, Rhia and Trina found themselves at the edge of a small valley about thirty leagues across and just as many wide, a round basin-like depression in the land. It was a stark contrast from the bleak wilderness surrounding it, for the valley floor was rich with vegetation, mainly sweeping grasslands, dotted with clumps of brightly-flowering trees and a smattering of small lakes and ponds; the slope descending into the valley was a dull gray jumble of boulders.

     "It has been said that this is where a great stone of fire fell from the sky, creating a well in the earth," said Raide. "Some believe it was a gift from the gods to those ancients who dwelt in these harsh lands, an oasis in an otherwise unforgiving world. But those people have long since died off, despite their 'gift'." He dropped his satchel at the base of a scraggly pine, a hundred yards from the valley's edge. "We shall rest here for the night, and then pass around the valley in the morning. From there, it is about a day to Calimon, on the base of Mount Versidde."

     "Why not pass through the valley?" asked Evan, spreading out his cloak on the ground for Trina to sleep upon, and then setting his pack down and fishing about in it for something to eat. "It would save us several hours' journey going around."

      "I have a bad feeling about that place," Raide confessed. "I have met many other wanderers in my time, and they all avoid it. They say it is cursed, inhabited by unnatural creatures that would consume you while you still breathed."

     "I would not be frightened of such a place," Rhia said, her tone slightly dismissive. "Men wandering in the wild often grow strange and see things that do not exist, and I feel no evil coming from this land before us. It would certainly shorten our journey to Calimon to pass through it."

     "And we all know how anxious you are to get rid of our 'burden'," Evan chimed in.

     Raide threw his hands up in disgust. "Fine! If you two are going to stand against me at every turn, then fine! We shall cross the valley. But do not expect me to come to your aid if we are attacked!" Throwing down his cloak away from the others, he wrapped himself in it and laid awake, keeping watch, not saying a word. 

     Rhia and Trina set about preparing dinner while Evan gathered kindling for a small fire, and the three of them sat around it, eating dried fish and venison; a jar of plums was for dessert.

     "Tell me of living in Termainia," Evan asked Rhia in a low voice as he stared at the flickering tongues of flame, the light from the fire reflecting in his eyes. "What was it like to be among royalty?"

     Rhia smiled. "It was the most joyous time in my life. I was sent to that land to aid the people, but I was not looked on as a sorceress, distant and feared. King Arden treated me as his daughter, and though he often came to me for council and to ask that I use my powers for a certain purpose, I always felt that he and Queen Calleni were as second parents to me, and their children as close friends. Those were the days of peace; I remember great balls in the castle hall, riding out in the country with Princess Vesteen, traveling to the towns and cities to help heal the sick and bring bounty to the harvest. Never once did I have to use my powers for other than good, for Termainia and Penhgost were allies, and there was no war..." She trailed off, a dark expression passing across her face.

     "That was before..." Evan said quietly.

     "Yes," Rhia said bitterly. "I always knew that I would have to use my abilities to kill; my father warned me that evil would be drawn to me because of that power. But, no one expected such evil as that which came from the Eastern Desert...I was overwhelmed, as was all of Termainia. I could combat the darkness, but my power alone could not propel the soldiers to victory, so vast was the enemy. King Arden knew this, and I and Princess Vesteen were able to escape as he fought, drawing the enemy's attention away from us. He knew that death was all that awaited him and his people, but he made sure that I and his daughter survived. It was because of me that Termainia fell, because I was who the Unnamed Lord desired to capture, and the King, in his love for me, sacrificed his nation and his life so that I might live to help defeat the darkness. Even now, I weep for his loss, because there is little hope that what he gave his life for will come to pass. I can feel evil growing around me, and though we are relatively safe in this land for the time being, if I cannot return to my home, the world will be cast into an unending shadow."

      Rhia fell silent again, and Evan could see glistening tears in her eyes.

      "I do not know what hope there is, but we—" he glanced at Trina, who sat silently, listening, "—have lost all we ever knew, and I guess that makes us a part of this as well. If there is one thing I wish to do, it is to get you back to where you belong. Our families and friends died because this Unnamed Lord wants you, and if we can help thwart him, then maybe their spirits will be put to rest, and their deaths avenged."

      "I thank you, Evan, and you Trina," Rhia said. "But I ask, do not let revenge be all that drives you. If anger is all that guides us, then even in victory we will be defeated, for without love and kindness the world can never be at peace. Let hope for a new beginning be that which fills your soul and mind, and then perhaps all that we strive for will not be in vain."      

Continued in next entry...

      Following Raide, Evan made his way down the passage, which wound and curved and descended gradually downwards, the strange reddish light that seemed to emanate from nowhere getting brighter all the time. After several minutes, they came to a point where the red light intensified a hundred-fold, causing both to shield their eyes from the painful glare. Through his fingers, Evan could make out a door, barely visible in the blinding light. One hand held out, he slowly walked forward, his fingers touching the smooth, warm surface. His hand roving across the surface of the door, Evan found the handle: a metal ring. Grasping the cool circle, he tugged it towards himself strongly.

     The door swung open with a groan, and the intense red light subsided almost instantly and was replaced by a weak yellowish glow that seemed to simply float in the air for it too had no apparent source. Behind the door was a room with a threadbare rug covering the stone ground, a bed covered by a red silk veil, and an assortment of crude pieces of furniture. There was a figure sitting motionless on the bed, its form silhouetted behind the silk.

     There was a grating sound, and Evan turned to see that Raide had drawn his sword, an ancient-looking affair with a leather-bound hilt and a blade scarred by numerous battles. Striding quickly forward, the older man wrenched at the silk curtain, tearing it away.

     A shriek pierced the silence as the form of a young woman was revealed, sitting, legs crossed, upon the bed. Her hair was an intense red, and her skin white; not pale, but like ebony. Her cheeks were a rosy color, her lips were full and bloodred, and even her eyes betrayed a reddish tint. She wore a red dress, and Evan believed she looked to be no more than eighteen seasons old, but if his grandmother had been hiding her as a secret for many years, then she was probably much older, perhaps even magical. The one thing he was quite sure of was that she was very beautiful.                  

     At the sight of Raide standing above her, sword raised as if to strike her, the woman cried out, "Stay your hand good sir! Would thou spill innocent blood so freely?"

     "I would to rid the world of that which would destroy it," Raide said grimly.

      Evan, mortified, rushed in front of his companion. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Who is she?"

     "You have not even let your compatriot in on your intentions?" the woman asked. Her voice brought to Evan's head visions of a babbling brook or a happy songbird; it was powerful and clear, yet gentle and kind.

     "It does not matter," Raide said through gritted teeth. "Get out of the way boy, and let me finish this."

     "No!" Evan replied. "She has done nothing wrong! And besides, you haven't explained how you even knew she was here, or how you knew my grandmother was hiding the key, or anything!"

      Raide lowered his sword. "Fine, I suppose you deserve some explanation. But it will not save her—" he nodded at the woman "—it will only prolong her life a little while."

     "We'll see," Evan said in a low voice.

     "Then I shall begin," Raide said, his face stony; he seemed impatient at this interruption of his plans. "You have heard of the legend of the Heart of Fire, yes?"

      Evan nodded.

      "Well, as the legend goes, King Arden's daughter, Princess Vesteen, smuggled the Heart out of Lavol while the King held off the Black Hordes long enough to ensure her escape. Then she and the Heart disappeared. Many thought she had crossed the border of Termainia and entered into Penhgost, and the Unnamed Lord, desperate to acquire the Heart attacked our lands and was repelled. Beaten, the Dark Hordes withdrew to the East and disappeared into the blackness, waiting and regaining strength, and all concern for the whereabouts of the Heart subsided in Penhgost.

      "But even as I speak, the Unnamed Lord is nearing the time when he shall cast out again to find the Heart, and with so many years to restore his forces, his army shall surely be large enough to overrun the world."

      "But what does that have to do with her?" Evan asked.

     "She is what the Unnamed Lord desires so," Raide said, pointing a finger at the woman accusingly. "The Heart is not an object, bestowed with magical powers, but a person, living and breathing, immortal. She is the Heart of Fire, the last of those that would give ultimate power, the ability to stretch his domain over all the world, to the Unnamed Lord."

     "How do you know this?" Evan felt his heart skip a beat. Those days of the past that he had dreamed about, those days of danger, of demons and heroes, they were staring him in the face.

     "Princess Vesteen took with her a young boy to help carry provisions and the like, and together they smuggled the Heart into Penhgost. That young boy was my grandfather. He, knowing the danger that would follow, urged Vesteen to kill this thing, for if the Heart was destroyed, the Unnamed Lord could never achieve his goal." Raide looked pointedly at the woman who sat in silence, a look of contempt on his face. "But Vesteen ignored his pleas, taking pity on this pathetic being, and so one night, she abandoned my grandfather, taking the Heart with her. For the rest of his life my grandfather searched for the two, as did his son, my father, as have I. They never found the key, never found Vesteen, never found the Heart. But I have, and I must destroy her, so that the Unnamed Lord can never do what he intends."

     Evan looked to the woman, the Heart of Fire. "Is this true?"

     She bowed her head. "It is true. Vesteen hid me here, despite my protests, locking me inside, hidden from all senses, undetectable. Alas, the Princess's pity clouded her judgment. For had I been allowed, I could have returned to my place of origin before the danger grew too great, where the Darkness could never find me again, but it was not to be."

      "This much I learned," said Raide. "Vesteen wrote extensively of her doings, perhaps out of guilt or just to remember, and I found those papers many years after her death. But as to where she had hid you away, or the key to unlock you, was unclear. She wrote of a 'lass in the village by the sea', who she entrusted with the knowledge of the Heart of Fire, for she, in her solitude, felt she had to speak of it to someone, and when the Princess passed, she gave the key to this young girl. I searched every seaside village in Penhgost, and found your grandmother. She was not young of course, but I surmised that she could have been the daughter of the young girl Vesteen spoke of. I asked her about it, and she was strangely cold to me, and I knew at once that she was the one who had the key, passed down from her mother. I left, hoping that she would settle down, and then in time we could speak. But a dozen times I left and returned, and each time she rejected my pleas.

      "Her death and your discovery of the key were timely indeed, though I am sorry for your loss," Raide told Evan. "There have been stirrings in the East, and if the Heart is destroyed now, the Unnamed Lord will have nothing to acquire. Now, stand aside."

      Evan didn't move. Surely there was another way. To kill a being so fair...it did not seem right.

     "Move boy!" Raide repeated.

     "No, there has to be another way!" Evan said. He turned to the woman. "Is there not another way?" he asked. He desperately did not want Raide to kill her; something within him, an unknown source, told him that she must be spared.

     "There is a way, but to pursue it would be near to madness," the woman replied. "I must be returned to my true home, but the portal is in Uur-Valel, far away in the south-eastern corner of Termainia, and already the Unnamed Lord can feel me. The moment the one who possessed the key fell into shadow, without having passed the key and its magic along to another, the magical seal on my prison was broken, and I became known to his senses, and now that I have been found, he will do all he can to capture me."

      Evan turned to Raide, hope springing in his heart. "We could take her there," he said. "We could return her home!"

      "Have you gone mad?" Raide asked incredulously. "You heard her; Uur-Valel is in the south-east of Termainia. That place is a wasteland, filled with evil left by the Dark Hordes! And even if we could get into Termainia, for the borders are heavily guarded to keep people out of it, the Unnamed Lord would capture her and kill us both! The moment we leave Penhgost, we would lose any semblance of safety."

     Evan frowned. "I don't care, just killing her in cold blood is unjust, and I won't let you do it." He had plucked up his courage, and felt more confident than he ever had, standing between Raide and the woman.

      Raide's face contorted into a look of fury. "It must be done! Don't make me hurt you to get at her, because I will!"

      "If, young warrior, a way to destroy the Unnamed Lord could be given to you, would thou spare mine life?" asked the woman suddenly, rising and standing next to Evan.

     "In an instant," replied Raide. "But who can make a promise to give power like that? You? What kind of power could destroy the Unnamed Lord?"

     "Though my appearance is that of an innocent youth, I am the greatest of Three, and I helped protect Termainia for many years, before the Blackness came. My power was not enough to repel all the hordes, but with my power sitting dormant and growing for so many years, a weapon could be produced with enough strength to destroy the Unnamed Lord, despite his power, which is drawn from evil."

     "And you would do this to spare yourself?"

     "I would do it to destroy the evil that threatens to blight the world," the woman replied. "And, for my own sake, if my life can be preserved, it is an added bonus to a far greater and more important achievement."

     Raide was silent for a moment. "Alright, if you can procure or create such a weapon, then I shall aid you in your journey to Uur-Valel. But I say this, if we should arrive at a moment where you shall fall into the enemy's hands, I will kill you. The Dark Hordes cannot be allowed to take you to the Unnamed Lord, and I will do all that I can to ensure that they do not."

     The woman nodded.

     The scruffy wanderer turned to Evan. "You do realize that you are coming with us. You've succeeded in your do-good endeavour, and now you'll pay for it. I’ve found that a good pack-bearer is hard to come by, and you’ll do just fine."

     Evan nodded, a thrilling feeling rising in his gut. Adventure was calling him! It was all he had ever wanted, and now it was a reality. Even in the face of danger, excitement consumed him.

     "Do you have things to bring with you, and perhaps garments better suited for traveling?" Raide asked the woman brusquely. "We must be on our way."

     "I do," she replied. "If you leave me for a moment, I can dress properly, and gather what few possessions I have."

     The two males left the chamber, retreating into the passageway to wait. Raide was strangely silent, a stony look on his face.

     "What's wrong?" Evan asked in a low voice.

     "You!" Raide hissed. "I was so close to achieving my goal, the goal of my father and grandfather, but you had to stick your nose in and get in the way!"

     "But you gave in," Evan countered. "You didn't push me aside and slay her anyways."

     "That’s because I have some semblance of a heart, unfortunately," replied Raide. "I take no joy in killing, unless my focus is a thing of evil, and when there is an alternative route toward my end goal, I will take it, though, I do not feel that this venture we are about to set out upon has a great chance of success. But, should I perish along the road, I will do all I can to destroy this woman before all the blood has been spilt from my body. I promise this, for I cannot allow Darkness to triumph, not while my body still holds breath. When that deed is done, then shall the focus of my life be complete."

     Evan frowned. "Do you really believe we shall fail? Is the road that perilous?"

     Raide laughed. "You really are foolish boy, agreeing to set out on a journey such as this. Yes, the road toward Uur-Valel is fraught with dangers you could never even imagine. Only once have I ventured in Termainia, and I say this, it is nothing like the tales of old; awe and beauty has been replaced with terror and hideousness. I barely escaped with my life, and I was traveling alone. With you and the woman to slow me down, we may barely step foot into that land before we perish."

     "You speak as one who is without hope." The woman had returned, garbed in a black tunic and pants, a belt with a sheathed dagger buckled around her waist;  her feet were covered with small black shoes and her long red hair mostly hidden beneath the brown cloak she wore to complete the ensemble. "But I say to you: I am not as weak as you seem to believe. I have skills and powers you have never seen, and the enemy shall find capturing me not an easy task."

     "That is good, we only have to protect the boy," Raide said, his off-handed taunt causing Evan to flush with embarrassment. Here he was, sixteen seasons old, and in their party of three, he was the weak link. Right then and there, he resolved to learn all he could about wielding weapons; he did not want to endure Raide's taunts longer than he could help.

     "Do you have a name?" the younger man asked the woman. "Besides the Heart of Fire I mean. It would feel odd to call you that..."

      "My name is Rhia Ethiliel Irunvatori, but you may call me Rhia."

     "Irunvatori?" Raide raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That is the name of those ancient people blessed by the gods. Your father must have been a man of great importance."

     Rhia smiled. "He is."

     The men and woman left the passageway, clambering out into the open air. The mists were lifting, and the gray clouds were giving way to sunlight; the barren land would soon be covered in a sweltering heat.

     "We should return to Yeolin shortly to gather provisions before we depart," said Raide as they made their way out of the ravine and onto open ground.

     Evan and Rhia agreed, and they set out through the rough land, which turned back into gentle forest as they nearer Yeolin. But, something was different. The woods had become deathly silent, and a strange air of mystery and danger seemed to hang in the air, growing stronger and stronger with the three's progress. They reached a small, tree-covered rise, and Evan knew that Yeolin lay on the other side, obscured by the towering majesties.

     But at that moment, Rhia cried out and fell to her knees, trembling.

     Evan and Raide rushed to her side. "What is it?" Raide asked urgently, his eyes darting about.

     "Death! Despair! The blood of the innocent mixed with the dust! The voices of the murdered, they speak to me! Of pain! Of darkness! Of a great lizard black as the night!" With a trembling finger, she pointed skyward, and then fell to her knees and covered her head with her cloak.

     Evan looked up. Billowing black smoke was rising into the air, visible through the trees. It was coming from Yeolin.

     "No!" He dropped his satchel and dashed up the small rise and through the trees. Emerging on the other side, a scene of terror met his eyes, and it caused a roiling sensation in his stomach as an icy feeling flooded his veins.  

      Where Yeolin had been was a scene that Evan could hardly bear to look at. The buildings had been set ablaze and smashed, and anything green in the surrounding area was charred and blackened. The docks and warehouses were also ablaze, as were those fishing ships that had not already sank, blackened masts protruding from the water the only sign that those that had slipped beneath the waves had ever been there. But what horrified Evan even more were the blackened forms laying about: charred bodies, some pin-cushioned with black arrows. Indeed, it seemed as if not one of the villagers in Yeolin had survived, and Evan's mind immediately went to Master Worin, and to Trina and the rest of his classmates. They were dead, wiped out by some hideous evil that cared not whether they were innocent and unarmed or not.

     Raide stood in silence next to the young man, and he put his hand on his shoulder in an awkward gesture of comfort, but Evan shook it off. His eyes welled with tears, and he struggled to shrug off the emotions welling up inside his chest.

     "Already he is searching for me," Rhia said mournfully, standing near Raide and Evan. "His winged servants will search this land until they find me, killing everyone they come across, and if that does not work, then his armies will set out and march upon Penhgost, and surely then the world shall fall."

     "Then we must not linger," Raide said through gritted teeth. "If the Unnamed Lord's warriors can sense you, they will return to this place again. Let us search the ruins and see if anything survived that we can use, and then let us depart as swiftly as we can manage."

      Somberly, the three went down into the remnants of the village. Many of the fires were still blazing, but some had gone out, leaving behind the charred skeletons of buildings, and it was through these that Evan, Raide, and Rhia searched, trying to find some manner of provisions that had survived the inferno. Their search revealed little, until Raide stumbled upon a cellar that had survived the fire: it was filled with dried venison, fish, and an assortment of preserved and pickled vegetables and fruit. They filled their packs with as much as they could bear to carry, and realizing there was no reason to linger, headed back up the hill, away from the burned village and away from the sea.

      Pausing at the forest's edge, Evan looked back one more time as the place where he had spent his entire life. It had held so many memories, some good, some bad, and although he had always intended to leave it he had known it would not be easy to let go, and under the current circumstances and the events that had transpired in the last day, it was even harder. But now that it was destroyed, he had nothing that really led him to wish to stay, other than fanciful images of happier times, and those could not undo reality.

      Turning away, he composed himself and followed Raide and Rhia into the shadow of the trees, away from what was once Yeolin, never to return.

Hey, here is chapter 2. Still in editing stages. Enjoy.

CHAPTER TWO

                                                        

     Evan sat in a numb silence next to the burning hearth of the small hut, oblivious to Mrs. Pedland’s concerned jabber as she made him supper. He was still stunned at what had happened. Yes, his grandmother had been ill, but she had always been strong, and looked to be on the road to recovery. But none of that mattered now; she was dead, and that was that. All that remained was the empty place in Evan’s heart; a place that would never be filled again.

     Master Worin returned at that moment, the door shutting behind his tall, lanky frame with a bang. His muddy boots clunking and his soaking jacket dripping water, he sat down at the rough kitchen table, opposite Evan, who merely looked up and then away again.

     “Its still raining like the floodgates of heaven are open,” Worin commented to Mrs. Pedland. “I’d say we could experience a spot of serious flooding before it lets up.”

     “And a right shame it is,” she replied, putting a plate of bread and salted pork down in front of Evan on the table. “To think, passing on such a day…” She shook her head and wiped her hands on her apron. “I knew Verona my whole life, and she was always the picture of health, even when age started to slow her down.”

     “Well, death takes even the best of us, young or old,” Worin said solemnly. He glanced over at Evan, who was silently studying his palms in the firelight, immersed in his pained thoughts. The schoolteacher took a sip from the steaming mug Mrs. Pedland handed him, his sharp face wrinkled thoughtfully. “You know, before Verona passed, she said something to me. She said, ‘my heart is hidden in stone. Destroy the key’.”

     “That’s a mite odd,” Mrs. Pedland replied. “Verona never was one to speak nonsense. A right sensible lady she was…”

     Evan spoke up suddenly. “What is going to happen to me?” he asked softly, looking at Master Worin.

     “Well, I suppose you can continue to live here, providing you make enough money from your job at the docks to buy food,” Worin said thoughtfully.

     “I don’t have a job anymore.”

     “What?”

     “Seaman Burns fired me,” Evan said simply. “Madra blamed me for something he did, and Burns believed him.”

     “Well, you can’t go on living here without food!” Mrs. Pedland exclaimed. “That’s out of the question. You can stay with me until you’ve found another job in the village. My son Orven would be rightly glad of your company for a spell—”

     “No thank you,” Evan said forcefully. “I’m not going to stay in Yeolin.”

     “What? Don’t talk nonsense, of course you are! Where will you go? The wild lands are full of dangers a young lad ought not to tempt.” Mrs. Pedland turned to Master Worin. “Thorip, speak to the boy! Tell him he has to stay.”

     The gaunt man cast thoughtful eyes over Evan. “Well, he’s sixteen seasons old and hardly a child. I don’t believe I have the authority to order him about.”

     “Well…” Mrs. Pedland huffed, her face getting red. “I’ll speak to my husband, and he’ll talk to the village elders. They’ll set this nonsense straight!” She bustled over to the door, picking up her shawl from where it was draped over a chair. “Goodnight!” Stepping out into the pouring rain, she shut the door behind her with a bang.

     “Are you sure about this Evan?” Master Worin asked, looking over his student with a weary eye.

     Evan stood and stirred the fire, adding a couple of branches from the wood box next to the rough hearth. “Yes sir. I don’t want to live the rest of my life as a dockhand or seaman. It’s not the life I want, and I don’t think my grandmother wanted it for me either. I’m sure she would have let me leave when I felt I was ready, but I couldn’t leave her all alone.”

     “And are you ready?”

     “Yes sir. I’ve no reason to stay here.”

     “Where will you go?” asked the schoolteacher somberly.

     “Adrala, I’ve always dreamed of seeing the capital.”

     “Just as any boy or your age has…” Master Worin stood. “Well Evan, the best of luck to you. Will you be leaving on the morrow?” 

     “As soon as I am packed, yes sir.”

     “Perhaps I shall come by to see you off then?”

     “I would appreciate that sir.”

     Worin nodded. “Well, goodnight then, lad.”

     “Goodnight, sir.”  

     The tall man nodded briefly and then stepped out into the downpour and disappeared into the darkness, the door clunking shut behind him.

 

      It took a long time for Evan to find sleep that night, huddled on his straw mattress in the corner of the hut’s main room. The rain on the roof caused a ceaseless drumming, and the wind howled between the cracks in the walls. But worse than that was the hollow feeling in his stomach. The woman who had raised him from a small child after his parents’ disappearance, the one who knew him best and whose company he enjoyed the most, was dead. It would take a long time for him to get over the fact that he would never speak to her again during this life.

     But eventually, with these thoughts swirling about in his mind, coupled with the knowledge he was about to embark on a adventure, leaving the only home he had ever known behind for the wild beyond, Evan fell asleep and did not awaken until the gray light of a overcast morning shone through the chinks in the rough wooden walls of the hut.

     Rising, he ate a small meal of bread and water, packing the remainder of the contents of the meager food shelf into a satchel, along with his extra tunic and boots, a blanket, and a cloak.  This would be good enough to start him off on his journey, he decided, and perhaps he could trap a rabbit or two in a snare when he ran out of food; he had always been good at snaring animals, and he and his grandmother usually had always had enough to eat, even when the money ran low.

     His things packed, Evan surveyed the small hut one last time, waiting for Master Worin to come to see him, and something compelled him to look into his grandmother’s room. The small bed that dominated the tiny, darkened cubicle look forlornly empty; his grandmother’s body had been buried in the village cemetery the night before after the rain had eased up a bit.

     Suddenly, his eyes caught the edge of a small trunk sticking out from underneath the bed. He didn’t know what was in it and had never gone through his grandmother’s possessions. But now that she was gone, it couldn’t hurt, could it?

      Pulling the trunk into the light, he kneeled and opened it. It was almost completely empty. There was a bundle of letters, the ink faded, making the words illegible, and beneath that a small bundle wrapped in a black cloth. Carefully unfolding it, he found a piece of wrapped leather parchment inside; it looked very old. He held it to the light, and as he did, something hard fell out of its folds with a clunk onto the hard dirt floor. It was a key. Picking it up, Evan eyed the object in wonder. It was made of a black metal, and was of an intricate design, with tiny red symbols inked along its length. What could this go to? Evan never knew his grandmother to possess anything of great value, and this key looked the part.

     “What’s that you’ve got there, boy?”

     Evan jumped and wheeled around to face Raide Lorth, who was leaning in the doorway of the hut. His tattered cloak was draped over his shoulder, and he was looking even dirtier than he had the day before.

      “Uh, nothing,” Evan replied, putting his hands behind his back.

     “I know you’re lying, boy. Just let me give it a look.” Raide swiftly stepped forward and grasping Evan’s arm, plucked the key from his grasp with ease. He examined it, and then his eyebrows rose in surprise as he looked towards the boy. “Where did you get this?”

     “In my grandmother’s trunk,” Evan replied. “It was wrapped in this.” He showed Raide the leather parchment.

     “Do you know what this is?” Raide asked, taking the parchment from Evan and waving it about, his face etched with excitement

       “No. I didn’t get a chance to look at it.”

      “It’s a map. And I’d bet my arm it leads to whatever this key unlocks!” Raide looked Evan over. “Can I borrow these?”

      “No, they’re my grandmother’s!” Evan replied in indignation. Raide had a lot nerve, entering his hut and taking the key from him.

      “C’mon boy, ease up a little! I’ve been searching for these for years, and all the time your granny had ‘em. I knew she was hiding it!”

      “What? What was she hiding?”

     Raide grinned. “Come with me and find out.”

     “But I’m waiting for Master Worin. He’s coming to see me off,” Evan protested. “I can’t just leave.”

     “You’re leaving this little dump of a village?” Raide asked.

     Evan nodded.

     “Well, you can stand to come back for a little while after we’re done. If I’m right, this map leads us only a few miles south. You can come back and say goodbye to that old schoolteacher and be on your merry way in an hour or two.”

     Evan sighed. “Fine, let’s go.”

     “Bring that with you,” Raide said, nodding towards Evan’s satchel.

     “Why? I though we were coming back.”

     “Just bring it boy, you never know when you’ll need extra provisions.”

     Evan nodded, hoisting the satchel over his shoulder and following the older man out into the gray morning.

     They headed in a southeasterly direction, into the forest lowlands that lined the coast for hundreds of miles. Raide, an experienced woodsman, set a quick pace, only glancing at the map occasionally. For near on half an hour they traveled this way through the forest, traversing gentle, moss-covered slopes and fording rushing streams, spilling their banks a little due to the intense rain from the night before. But after a while, the terrain began to change. The ground became rocky and the trees sparser and more gnarled, and a thin mist began to settle, limiting visibility; even the noise of the forest, the calls of various songbirds and the chatter of the squirrels, began to dissipate.

     “Where are we?” Evan asked, following Raide up the side of a boulder-strewn dell, between two scraggly pine trees.

     “The fringes of the wild lands,” the older man replied, without turning. “We’ve headed inland a bit, and the land is more rugged here than the little forest that surrounds Yeolin.” He paused at the top of the dell and scanned the mist-shrouded land that lay before him, and then glanced down briefly at the map he held in his hands. “Now…where is the Heart?” he muttered under his breath, trying to pierce the mist with his gaze.

     “What are you looking for?” Evan asked, leaning forwards, trying to see what was on the map.

     “This.” Raide pointed to the parchment. At the bottom right corner was the faded ink drawing of a tree, split into two at the trunk, each half curling up and away and then down toward each other to form the rough shape of a heart. Just above it on the map was a crude likeness of the hillock they now stood on, the two gnarled trees at its base. “The Heart should be very near here…”

     Evan studied it for a moment, and then walked a little ways into the mist, peering intently. The land was shrouded, and the thick white blanket was settling in deeper, lowering visibility by the minute. He could barely make out the ground a few dozen yards in front of him, much less a tree shaped like a heart.

     Suddenly, his ears caught a strange sound that seemed to float out of the mist. It was almost like the voice of a little girl, very high with an eerie pitch and an echoing quality. There was swirling in the mist to Evan's right, near a small ravine that led away into the whiteness. He headed towards this curiously, quickly disappearing from Raide's view, who cursed and hurried after the boy.

     Loose stone shifting underfoot, Evan followed the ravine, barely able to see three feet ahead in the thick whiteness. The walls of the ravine began to close in and get higher as the path the boy was following sloped downwards. The voice was growing louder, and Evan found himself strangely drawn towards it. Suddenly, steadying himself as the gravelly ground began to slide beneath his feet, he emerged into a small hollow completely devoid of mist; a strange reddish light seemed to sift down from the sky above. But what caught his breath in his throat was the scene before him: a gnarled tree with its trunk split a few feet above its base, and contorted to form the rough likeness of a heart. The tree was growing up against the side of a small rock cliff, and within the outline of the heart, the stone appeared smooth and unbroken, save for a small chink that looked like a keyhole.      

     "Well done, boy!" Raide said in a low whisper, coming up next to Evan and clapping the young man on the shoulder. Going over to the tree, he ran his hands across the smooth surface of the stone, pausing when his fingers traced across the rough keyhole, which was at about eye-level. Producing the key, the scruffy journeyman inserted it slowly into the stone. There was a grinding noise, and dust fell from the cliffside as, Evan and Raide watching in wonder, the outline of a round doorway about five feet in circumference was carved out of the gray surface by an invisible force. When the circle was completed, the small door swung inwards, revealing a passage lit by a faint glow coming from an unknown source.

     "Follow me!" Raide whispered, his voice trembling with excitement as he hoisted himself into the round entranceway. Evan followed hesitantly, scrambling into the freshly-revealed passage, finding that inside it grew much larger, so that one could stand straight up. He still didn't know what Raide was looking for, but the fact that the older man who had hounded his grandmother for so many years knew exactly what the key in the chest was for unsettled Evan. Had his grandmother really been hiding something? Evan was becoming more confident that he would find out very soon.

So, here's chapter one. Still needs work, but I'd call it at a moderately-edited stage. Enjoy.

CHAPTER ONE

 

     “Evan McKell! You’d better have a good reason for being late for my class again!”     

     All eyes in the tiny classroom turned towards the open door as Evan, a boy of sixteen seasons, stood framed in the sunlight, his chest heaving and his brown hair sweaty and askew. He had run the length of Yeolin, and was still a good ten minutes late for Master Worin’s history class for the third time this week.

     “I have sir!” he said breathlessly. “I—”    

     “Save your breath,” Master Worin said, holding up a bony hand, “I shall speak to you after we are finished for the day. Take a seat, young McKell.” 

     Yeolin was a village of two hundred people, though during the summer festival that number more than doubled. It was located on the western seaboard of the kingdom of Penhgost, and enjoyed the profits that were brought by the many successful fishermen that resided there.

     Master Worin was the only teacher in the village, and his classes were looked down upon by most of the common, hardworking people in Yeolin as a waste of time and only for the rich folk. But Evan’s grandmother, his only living relative, had insisted he attend, and had used what little money she had saved over the years to pay for the young man’s attendance.

     A tall and bony man with thin, graying hair and a severe nose, Thorip Worin presented the disposition of a strict disciplinarian, but in reality he was kind in a gruff sort of way, and more than willing to answer questions. Every day was new and interesting, and he managed to keep his little class of students filled. But the one thing he did not take kindly to was students showing up late, and Evan had already been testing his patience.

     Sliding behind the only open desk, Evan glanced quickly at the girl next to him. She smiled at him, and he averted his eyes quickly. She was Trina Burns, the daughter of the richest fisherman in Yeolin and the most beautiful girl Evan had ever seen.

     With dark brown hair that curled gracefully onto her shoulders, deep blue eyes, a rosy, smiling face, and a slender form, Trina could have been a princess, or at least Evan thought so. She had always been friendly to him, but he was shy, and she was constantly being courted by the rich boys in the village so Evan was cautious of being seen talking with her, because those boys, especially Jonathan Hull, who acted as if he and Trina were already betrothed, would make his life miserable. 

     “Alright,” Master Worin said briskly, “as I was saying before that interruption, the great war between the Dark Hordes and Termainia was in the year 715. Can anybody remember who the last king of Termainia was and why he is remembered?”

     Trina flung her hand into the air. “King Arden. He held the Dark Ones at bay in the Battle of Lavol while his daughter, Princess Vesteen escaped with the Heart of Fire, keeping it safe from the Unnamed Lord!”

     Worin nodded. “Very good, Miss Burns. The Heart of Fire was lost of course, and the Unnamed Lord never found it. He attacked Penhgost as well, but King Fraeden repelled him and he retreated back into his lands with only two of the three Hearts of Power.”

     Evan raised his hand. “Sir? What are the other two Hearts of Power?”

     “No one knows for sure,” Worin replied. “All we know about any of the Hearts is that they give special abilities to the possessor. With all three the Unnamed Lord would have been invincible, and it is rumored the two he does have are associated with Darkness and Light. The Heart of Fire is said to be the most powerful of the three, being both the creator of light and the eliminator of darkness, but without all three, none of the Hearts’ powers are complete. But as I said, no one knows for sure.

     “Now, after King Fraeden defeated the Dark Hordes after the fall of Termainia—”

     “Sir?” Evan’s hand was up again.

     “Yes, young McKell?”

     “Sir, what happened to the Termainians? Did any survive?”

     Worin looked thoughtful. “Some did, yes. They fled into Penhgost and some of their descendants still live among us. It is even rumored that Princess Vesteen managed to escape here, and that the royal blood line of Termainia still exists, but that is widely regarded as fanciful wondering and nothing more.”

     “Oh.” Evan didn’t raise his hand again.

     “Now, where were we? Ah yes, King Fraeden was succeeded by his son, King Jorulian, who ruled during the Plague of Flies in 752. His son and our current king, King Kedran, was inaugurated in 812 after Jorulian’s death, ten seasons ago tomorrow in fact.”

     Worin continued on for the good part of an hour, elaborating on the particulars of more recent Penhgost history, something Evan found much less interesting than the late Termainian Empire. When class let out Evan stood up quickly with the others, hoping that the schoolmaster had forgotten to tell him off, but it was not to be.

     “Master McKell, I need to have a word with you.”

     Evan grudgingly made his way up the front of the small classroom, the rough wool shirt he wore itching uncomfortably.

     “Now,” Worin said sternly, “would you mind telling my why you were late again Evan? I let the other two times slide because I know your grandmother well, but if this continues I cannot allow you to continue to come to class if you are constantly tardy.”

     Evan looked at the ground. “Sir, it’s my grandmother. She is ill, and I was tending to her. I wasn’t going to come at all, but she insisted. Our landlord, Mister Growden, refused to check on her when I asked him, so I’ve got to run back there to check on her before I go down to work at the docks, sir.” 

     Worin’s face softened. “Is that right lad? You should’ve told me sooner. I could have sent you back right away with some of the soup I made this morning.”

     “I didn’t want anyone making a fuss. The other boys will make fun of me if I started taking handouts and asking for help because we’re poor, sir.”

     “It is nothing to be ashamed of, son,” Worin replied. “Listen, I’ll go and talk to Doctor Underwood, and we’ll stop by and check in on your grandmother. Take the afternoon off after you get off of work, and I’ll stay with her until the evening meal. I’m sure Verona would appreciate the company, and you could likely do with a little time free of worry.”

     “Thank you, sir!” Evan beamed gratefully. “I won’t be late for class again, I promise!” 

     Worin’s face tugged into the faintest traces of a smile. “All right boy, you’d best be off to the docks then. Seaman Burns is far less forgiving of tardiness than I, I imagine.”

     “Yes sir, thank you sir!” Evan left the small school building and headed down towards the docks.

     The school building was situated on the outskirts of Yeolin, upon a hill near the outskirts of the Fardren Forest, while the docks were across the village down next to the bay. Between that was the bulk of the village: an assortment of all sizes of thatched homes that gave way to wooden two-story shops nearer to the docks. It was also here where the richest lived, the fishermen like Trina’s father that had found success and wealth, living in homes with more bedrooms than occupants and usually housing several servants as well. Then there were the docks themselves, a large mass of sprawling storehouses that housed the fishermen’s wares lining the long wooden walkway where numerous fishing boats and the occasional trading ship were tied.

     Running fast, Evan made his way through the village. He wasn’t late by any means—it was not yet midday—but he loved the feeling of the wind flowing through his ear-length brown locks and the semi-weightlessness sensation that came from running downhill; the village was built on a moderate decline towards the seashore.

     He reached the docks and immediately the overwhelming smell of fish invaded his senses. Most of the fishing boats were in, and Evan headed towards the northern end of the dock, where he worked unloading Seaman Burns’ boats and stacking the fish baskets in the man’s storehouse. 

     “Hey, boy!”

     Evan turned at the sound of the sharp voice calling to him knowing full well who it belonged to, and it was not a person he had hoped to run into that day.

     Limping towards Evan was Raide Lorth. He was a part-time deckhand on Seaman Burns’ boats, when he wasn’t wandering far and wide across the countryside. He usually appeared every two or three months, working on the fishing boats and spending his free hours spinning tales in the Goat’s Leg, the local tavern.

     Evan had not seen him since last autumn, and Raide was looking even more unkempt than usual. He was clad in a rough leather jerkin, had a tattered cloak flung over his shoulder, an empty scabbard belted to his waist, a bloodstained bandaged wrapped around his left forearm and a strange ring on his right hand. His dark, shoulder-length hair was unwashed and framed a brooding but handsome face that was covered in thick stubble.

     The one thing that made him the most odd, at least in Evan’s mind, was that he spoke with a clear and crisp accent, not like the drawl of the people of Yeolin. That perhaps Raide came from the great city of Adrala two five hundred leagues to the east was something Evan had wondered about, since he yearned to see that wondrous place, the source of many of his daydreams one day.

     Besides the fact that it was widely agreed that Raide was a wayward recluse with little motivation other than personal gain and a nasty temper, the boy had a justified aversion to him: Raide apparently knew his grandmother, and when she had been well, he had hounded her on his returns to Yeolin, dropping not-so-subtle hints about a secret that she supposedly carried, and how she was a fool for not getting rid of “it”. Verona stopped speaking to him after several of these instances had occurred, and Raide had turned to Evan, asking him questions about his grandmother and if he had ever seen her doing anything unusual. The boy had in turn taken to avoiding him whenever possible, and was more than inclined to agree with his grandmother’s statement that Raide was “a dirty troublemaker without a lick of sense and an unhealthy aversion to keeping his nose out of other folk’s business”.   

     “Hey boy,” Raide repeated, casting a suspicious eye over Evan, “your grandmother about?”

     “No sir,” Evan replied, “she’s ill. Been down with the chills for near on four days.”

     “I’m sorry to hear that,” Raide said, his face softening slightly and his tone surprisingly genuine. “Give her my regards and best wishes for a speedy recovery. Oh, and let her know I still think she should do something about that little secret of hers, will you?”

     “I will,” Evan replied slowly, wondering what Raide was hinting at. He had no idea what secret his grandmother carried.

     “Thanks lad. Well, I’ll be seeing you about I imagine. Top of the afternoon to you.” Raide nodded to Evan and limped away.

     Evan watched Raid limp off among the fish stalls and mounds of nets that littered the dock for a moment. If not for what the man had put his grandmother through, the boy of fifteen seasons felt like he could almost like the ragged traveler. After all, he was seemingly carefree in his travels and lifestyle, not caring what any person thought of him, something every boy forced to spend his afternoons working on the fishing docks dreamed of emulating.

     Tearing himself back to reality with the realization that being late to work could mean a lash at the hand of Seaman Burns, Evan hurried along the busy dock until he reached the large plank storehouse owned by the rich fisherman. Porlick and Madra, the two boys that were also employed under Seaman Burns were already there, watching as the boat they were to unload that day pulled into the dock and was tied off. A plank was laid and several burly fishermen, including Hudor Burns, a massive man with tree-trunk-like arms and a bald head, exited the vessel.   

     “Up an’ to it boys!” Burns said gruffly. “We’ve near on sixty ah those baskets aboard, and ah I don’t want ma fish spoiling. Be quick, or it’ll come outta ye pay!”

     “Sixty? Ma bloody arms’ll fall off if we gotta haul all those,” Porlick, a stocky boy with curly blond hair muttered.

     “Ah, quit yer whining,” Madra replied, poking Porlick in the ribs. He was several inches taller than the other boy, with darkly-tanned skin and flat black hair.

     Evan ignored them and climbed aboard the boat to set about the task at hand. Each basket was fully heaped with tuna fish and extremely heavy. Straining, he lifted the first basket and made his way carefully down the plank, being careful not to lose his balance and fall into the blue-green water that lapped against the pilings of the dock below. Lugging the basket inside the open door of the empty storehouse, he placed it in the farthest corner of the building. The storehouse was ventilated and cool, but not for refrigeration or long-term storage by any means. Most of the fishermen in Yeolin preferred to keep their wares under a roof so the fish did not spoil as quickly, opening their doors to the traders and townspeople.

     The three boys continued on in this manner for near on an hour, the heat and weight of the baskets slowly taking their toll on the boy’s strength. When only half a dozen baskets remained, Evan took a short breather and wiped his forehead. He was sweating profusely and his arms ached.  He had lugged at least as many baskets as Porlick and Madra combined, who had spend the better part of the hour bickering, rather than working. Now the two boys were sprawled across a pile of fishing nets, moaning and trading insults.

     “Well,” Evan said tiredly, “let’s get the rest of these in, shall we?”

     “You go ahead,” Porlick said, sighing exaggeratedly. “I’m knackered.”

     “Yeah, you finish up Evan,” Madra agreed, smiling and stretching out on the nets.

     “But you’ve hauled less than two dozen together!” Evan protested. “I’ve done most of the work. What if Seaman Burns catches you?”

     “All the more reason for you to finish it,” Madra sniggered. “And even if ol’ Burns does come, we’ll just say you were slow, and the last six are yours. He’ll believe us too, and you know it.”

     It was true, Hudor Burns didn’t seem to like Evan all that much, and it was always Evan who got in trouble whenever Porlick or Madra spilled a basket or went too slow and the fish went bad too soon. All they did was blame Evan and it was he who lost pay or got the occasional lash.

     “You’re a goat Madra,” Evan said angrily.

     “At least I’ve got proper parents, not some crazy old lady for a granny,” Madra retorted smugly. “My father makes good money, and we never have to talk handouts.”

     He and Porlick burst out laughing.

     Evan turned away, his face burning. It wasn’t his fault his parents were dead or that his grandmother was too old to work! But Porlick and Madra held it over him nonetheless, and it hurt to be made fun of for something he couldn’t help.

     Trying to block out the boys’ taunts, he struggled with the last of the baskets. The sun beat down on him mercilessly, and every trip from boat to storehouse seemed to take longer and longer. When he had reached the final one, he was resorting to half-carrying, half-dragging the baskets, much to the amusement of Porlick and Madra, who laughed at his wearied attempts.

     Stumbling in exhaustion from the heat, Evan heaved the last basket on the plank that led down to the dock.  As he did, he noticed that Madra had come up onto the plank as well, and he was jumping up and down on it, causing it to wobble. Swaying, Evan nearly lost his balance as he clutched at the heavy basket to keep it from falling into the water.

     “Quit that!” he said sharply.

     “Why?” asked Madra impudently. “I’m just having a bit of fun.”

     “Because I’ve got to get this bloody basket of fish into the storehouse, that’s why,” Evan replied angrily. He did not have a quick temper and took most of the abuse the two boys dolled out to him without retaliation, but Madra was toeing the line.

     “Ooh! Evan, are you getting angry?” Porlick called from where he was sprawled lazily across the nets.

     Evan muttered under his breath and pushed the basket forwards, balancing it on the plank.

     “Whoa,” Madra exclaimed as Evan pushed the basket towards him, “what’re ya doing?” 

     “Get out of the way Madra,” Evan replied through gritted teeth.

     Madra folded his arms. “Say please.”

     “Okay, please move.”

     Madra looked around for a moment, as if thinking about it, then, “Umm, no.”

     “No?” Evan asked incredulously. Madra and Porlick had pulled stunts before, but preventing him to finish his work so they could all leave for the day? He didn’t know why they even bothered. They’d much rather be running about causing mischief that lingering on the docks longer than they had to.

     Madra stepped forward and gripped the basket opposite Evan. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said in a lowered voice. “How about you give me your pay this week, or I’ll knock this basket over into the bay and tell Burns you did it.”

     “You wouldn’t,” said Evan disbelievingly. He couldn’t afford to lose that money; it was the only income he and his grandmother had. “I need that money. You just use your pay to buy sweets when the traders come.”

     “It’s an expensive habit,” Madra replied, glancing over his shoulder at the dock, which was nearly deserted now that most of the fishermen had taken leave and gone home or to the tavern. “Besides, I’m sure you can just get some more handouts to compensate.”

     The insult slapped Evan in the face like an icy barb. “Enough!” he said, his usually passive temper flaring. “I am not giving you anything Madra! Now get out of the way!”

     Madra’s face took a dark expression. “Wrong answer,” he said icily. With a sideways shove, he sent the basket splashing into the warm waters of the bay.

     “What was that?” rumbled a deep voice, and Seaman Burns came round the side of the storehouse and saw Madra and Evan on the plank. Then he noticed the basket floating upside down in the water, its contents bobbing around it.

     “Who did that?!” he roared. “That is a hundred coin worth o’ fish!”

     Madra pointed accusingly at Evan. “It was him sir. I went to help with the last one, but he knocked it into the water! He’s been slacking all day and made a huge ruckus when we asked him to get the last one—”

     Evan, half–blinded by anger, slugged the boy in the gut and shoved him into the water. “That’s a lie!” he cried. “They’ve been making me do all the work, and Madra knocked the basket over!”

     The air knocked from his lungs, Madra came up to the surface spluttering and coughing.  “No, you’re lying,” he said, spitting water. “You’re always being lazy when no one’s looking!”

     “I’ve had enough ah this!” Seaman Burns rumbled. “You, boy!” He pointed a ham-like finger at Evan. “Ah don’t want ta see ye round my boats nemore! And ahm holding yer pay back fer that bit ah stupidity! Get ye gone!”

     “But I need that money!” Evan pleaded.

     “Ah don’t giva damn boy! Yer grandmother shouldn’t ave raised ye in such ah deceitful an’ cheatin manner! Yer lucky ah don’t charge ye fer the fish, and ah still may if yer still in ma sight much longer!” 

     His eyes watery, he totally humiliated, Evan left the docks. He couldn’t believe what had just transpired. Madra and Porlick had always been cruel to him because of his quiet and usually docile manner, but they had never tried to take his pay or get him fired as they had just done. And what was he going to tell his grandmother? That he had gotten fired for fighting? He couldn’t face her right now, especially since she was sick; he couldn’t bear to see her disappointed.

     Wandering out of the village, Evan headed into Fardren Forest. The tall, looming fur trees kept the moss-covered ground blanketed in shade, and the boy walked among them, the moss spongy beneath his feet. He wasn’t going anywhere in particular, just away from Yeolin. But as he wandered, he found himself nearing the cliffs to the north of the village, the ones that overlooked the ocean. He always went there to think, and this day was no different.

     Climbing a tree-shrouded hill, he emerged onto a small open plateau that gave away to a sheer drop to the ocean below. There was a lone tree near the cliff’s edge, and a small, flat-topped boulder. Making his way over to them, Evan sat down on the boulder, hugging his knees to his chest and looking out at the cloud-flecked horizon. The only sounds were that of a lone song bird, and the distant sound of waves breaking against the base of the cliff.

     He desperately wished he could escape this place, and this life. He did love his grandmother and would never dream of leaving her alone, and he really did enjoy Master Worin’s classes, but something deep within himself told Evan that this life was not for him. Being a laborer was never a life he desired, and he resolved to do everything he could to avoid such a fate. If only there was a way…

     “Evan?”

     Evan looked up. Trina Burns was standing directly in front of him. Her brown hair was waving in the wind—it was brisk that afternoon—and a look of concern was etched on her face.

     “Leave me alone Trina, please,” he muttered, turning his head away from her. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

     “I saw what happened, Evan,” she said quietly. “I was bringing my father his lunch and saw it all.”

     “Yes, I was humiliated,” Evan said stonily, staring stubbornly out to sea. “Why did you follow me? To rub it in?”

     “No, of course not! I wanted to see if you were okay,” Trina replied.

     “Well, I’m not. There, now you can go.”

     “No.” Trina folded her arms. “I’m going to stay here until you stop sulking. Evan, you’ve no reason to be ashamed. It wasn’t your fault, we both know that. So why don’t you buck up and deal with it?” 

     Evan turned to her in amazement. “You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

     “Yes, I am.” Trina grinned at him. “What? You think all girls are fragile and weak-willed?”

     “No, I’ve just never met many who weren’t,” was Evan’s reply. “But won’t Jonathan be angry that you’re speaking to me?”

     “You speak as if we were married,” Trina sniffed. “I don’t care about what he thinks. You were always much nicer to me anyways.”

     Evan shrugged. “I guess—”

     He was silenced as all noise was overcome by an inhuman wail, so loud that it echoed off of the cliffs and rustled the leaves in the trees. It was a sound made by no living creature, and Evan and Trina fell to the ground, holding their ears in pain as the horrible sound beat into their heads. A moment later it was gone, echoing into the distance and fading away into a wind that began to blow fiercely.

     A shadow was cast over the two young people at that moment, and looking up, Evan saw roiling black clouds that blotted out the sun. The dull rumble of thunder could be heard, followed momentarily by a forked tongue of lightening. There was a bright flash of light away to the south, right in the vicinity of Yeolin, and a heavy rain began to fall, soaking Evan's light tunic in a matter of seconds.

     “What is going on?” Trina shouted over the noise of the wind and thunder.

     “I don’t know, but we’d better get back to the village!” Evan said loudly.

     Together, they dashed into the woods, towards Yeolin. The trees creaked and groaned mightily as the two ran amongst them, doing little to stop the torrential downpour that had lowered the visibility dramatically. Already, the small streams had begun to overflow, and Evan and Trina had to leap as far as they could to avoid being caught in the miniature torrents.

     Bursting out of the Fardren Forest, sopping wet, they reached the outskirts of Yeolin. The clouds overhead made it so dark that it was as if night had fallen, and in the rain it was hard to discern what was what. The hard ground had turned to mud, and the road through the middle of the village was like a small, muddy river.

     “I’ve got to get home!” Evan yelled over the noise of the rain.

     Trina nodded. “See you later!” Then she was gone, disappearing into the watery darkness.

     Struggling through the mud, he made his way uphill towards the small hut where he and his grandmother lived. Slipping and sliding, he fell down several times; caking his wet clothes in the thick, brown syrupy earth.

     “Evan! Evan!”

     The boy peered into the darkness, hearing his name being called. He could make out a tall, lanky figure stumbling about, a lantern in hand.

     “Yes?!” he called back, struggling forwards.

     The figure paused, hearing his voice, and then spied Evan and hurried towards him. It was Master Worin, caked in mud up to his knees and soaked to the bone.

     “Evan!” he said, grasping the boy’s arm. “I’m glad I found you! Come quickly!”

     “What’s the matter?”

     “It’s your grandmother, boy! Come!”

     Evan felt his stomach flip upside down. Had something happened? Following Master Worin, he came to his small hut and burst inside.

     Doctor Underwood was there, standing next to the rough fireplace where a small fired burned, his old, wrinkled face solemn. He was standing with Mrs. Pedland, a homely lady with hair that was always in a severe bun. She was the village nurse, and sometimes assisted the doctor. They both looked at Evan with sad expressions on their faces.

     “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, bewildered.

     “Its…it’s your grandmother, dear,” Mrs. Pedland replied, sniffing and wiping away a tear with the sleeve of her blue, woolen dress.

     “What? Is her fever worse?”

     Master Worin laid a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “No Evan, she is dead. Your grandmother is dead.”

I thought I'd throw up the prologue of a fantasy story that has been dormant for a while but I'm starting to get back to. Its fantasy skewing strongly in a Young Adult direction, so keep that in mind. Also, this is a relatively rough draft, so I'll be cleaning it up in the near future. Oh yeah, and please don't copy and paste this.Thanks.


PROLOGUE:
THE FALL           

 

     Blood dripped from the sword of King Arden, the ruby-studded hilt of his weapon glinting dimly in the orange glow of the many fires that had been set that night; they were the only light, for the clouds were blackened by evil. His armor was dented and smudged by ash, his steed killed, and his limbs heavy, but still he battled on; the only thing that still shone strong was the golden crown upon his head, studded with a single diamond shaped in the likeness of a heart.

     The great city of Lavol, gem of the Termainian Empire, was ablaze. The Dark Hordes that had appeared out of the AvrainDesert to the east a week before had reached Termainia’s last stronghold, and they were overrunning it.  Fire consumed all four of the city’s levels, and the Dark Hordes had backed King Arden and his men onto the one bridge that led to the King’s castle, which sat at the middle of a lake that was completely ringed by the once-majestic city. 

     “Hold fast!” Arden cried to his men as another wave of the Dark Hordes surged forward wielding flaming blades and screaming in strange tongues. He still commanded the respect and fear of his men, as he had during his entire twenty-five year tenure as their ruler, and their hope was renewed as the gray-bearded warrior stood fast and faced the enemy alongside them.

     The clashes of sword on sword rang out ceaselessly, and Arden felled one of the Dark Ones, silencing its cries with a thrust from his weapon, Magrath, which had been his father’s before him. Whirling, he was met with another adversary, but he was tired and the black-helmed creature knocked the king onto his back with a punishing blow to the shoulder; thankfully, his armor proved too strong for the sharp, black blade.

     An arrow zipped through the sky and felled the creature as it stood over the King, who scrambled to his feet and was met by his Captain, Lord Ier, atop a black horse and flanked by a half-dozen archers in golden mail.            

     “Your Majesty, word has come to us from King Fraeden of Penhgost’s messenger falcon. He says that regrettably he cannot spare more troops to come to our aid, as his own borders are already too weak from attacks by the Dark Horde’s raiding parties.” The Captain looked at his King, despair etched on his grizzled face.

     “His message is too late to matter,” Arden said grimly. “We are nearly overrun. What of the Heart of Fire?”

     “Princess Vesteen has taken it to the tunnel, but is there really any hope that she will escape? The Dark Hordes have overrun all our lands!”

     “She must, else the world will fail. We must hold them as long as possible so that she can get away. The enemy’s focus will be here and only here as long as we defend the castle—”

     At that moment, a grating roar was heard, and a shadow passed over the bridge. Winging its way above the broken city was a great lizard. It was as black as night, from its great clawed limbs and glistening scales, to its tremendous leathery wings of immense span and long, whip-like tail. Even the massive, serrated teeth in its gaping mouth were black, and its tongue a sickly gray. Only its great, slit-like eyes stood out against the darkness, and they were red as blood.

     “Dragon!” cried Ier, his horse rearing and whinnying fearfully. “My King, you must get into the castle!”  

     “No, I will face it!” Arden replied with a shout. “The King of Termainia shall not die a coward!” He raised Magrath to the heavens. “Come to me foul lizard! Come and taste the might of Termainia!” The blade of Magrath became as if a flame, sending a bright light into the night sky.

     Wheeling, the black dragon dove towards the bridge like a bullet, arrows let loose by the archers upon the ramparts of the mighty castle in the middle of the lake pinging harmlessly off of its scales. Opening its claws wide, the fearsome beast raked them through the remaining Termainian ranks as it flew low over the bridge, killing dozens. Slowly, the creature wheeled and hovered above the span for a moment, and then dropped onto it and reared up on two legs, roaring into the heavens.

     The Termainian soldiers scattered as King Arden stood before the great lizard. Clutching at a yellow gem shaped in the likeness of a heart that hung on a golden chain around his neck, he knelt, bowing his head and whispering, “With what little power is left to me, may the Creature Within grant me the strength to give my daughter the time that is needed to get away. That is all I ask.”

     The jewel began to glow, and then a yellow light shot out of it and enveloped Arden in a golden dome of blinding radiance. When it had subsided, Arden had taken the form of a golden dragon with eyes as blue as the sea and a black splotch upon his chest in the shape of a heart.

     With a roar, the black dragon took flight, followed by Arden’s golden transformation. Wheeling and swooping, they fought with a ferocious energy. Around and around the castle they went, ripping and tearing with their fearsome claws and teeth. The golden dragon began to gain the upper hand, pushing the black dragon powerfully against the ramparts of the castle on the lake, breaking a hole in the side of the stone fortress and causing blocks of stone to rain into the water below.

     Hissing in pain, the black dragon launched itself back at Arden, spewing a gout of flame that harmlessly splashed against golden scales.  The great golden lizard did the same in retribution, a column of flame enveloping the black dragon.

     Then it dove away quickly. Swooping low over the bridge the golden dragon unleashed flames that enveloped many of the Dark Ones and left behind dozens of smoking corpses. Then he wheeled to meet the black dragon that came at him once more. They met with tremendous impact as Arden flew to meet his foe head on. Snapping and roaring, the two flying lizards locked in a ferocious struggle, losing altitude quickly. Suddenly, Arden’s golden form locked its powerful jaws around the neck of the black dragon, just below the skull, its teeth sinking through the black scales. With a violent motion, Arden ripped his dragon head backwards, gashing a gaping wound in the neck of his enemy. Green icor spewed forth and the black dragon, mortally wounded, let out an unearthly wail and plummeted into the lake and sank from view. The point in the water where it entered frothed for a moment and then turned green.

     Arden winged his way skyward and roared in triumph, causing his remaining soldiers on the bridge to rally with a cry. Wheeling, the golden dragon turned to the Dark Hordes on the bridge, who faltered at the death of their dragon. Spraying gouts of flame, he killed dozens more before landing upon the bridge in front of his men, forming a barrier. Rearing, he roared a thundering challenge to the mass of black creatures that hesitantly pressed towards him.

     Suddenly a red light shot out of the sky and hit Arden’s dragon in the breast. There was a flash, and the form of King Arden in human form was revealed, lying facedown.

     Three black dragons, the middle creature larger than its counterparts and bearing a rider, issued from the black clouds. Zeroing in on the bridge they landed amidst the remaining Termainian soldiers. The men screamed as the dragons lashed out with fangs and tails, crushing or consuming those that did not jump off of the bridge—in full armor it was suicide—in a manner of seconds. The rider of the largest dragon dropped to the ground.

     King Arden, a great burning pain in his chest, raised his head as two booted feet came to rest before him. A great gloved hand grasped the chain mail that Arden wore across his chest and lifted him up until his feet were no longer touching the ground.

     “Where is the Heart of Fire?” asked the one who held Arden in a deep, rasping voice. He was the most feared of all the Dark Hordes, Captain of the legions under his master, the Unnamed Lord. His name was Servain. A Great Dragon was his steed, and the Heart of Fire was what he sought.

     His massive form was clad from throat to toe in dull black armor, but he wore no helmet, letting his face be seen by all, for it was what instilled the most fear. Human in basic form, this thing's skin was black as night and misshapen from numerous scars, and his teeth were serrated and glistening white. He had no hair, but a large red furrow running across his forehead and skull could be seen, the hideous remnant of some past wound.  His yellowish eyes glinted in deep sockets, snow-white pupils fully dilated.

     “Where is the Heart of Fire?” he repeated, drawing Arden close until their faces almost touched, so the King could smell his foul breath.  

     “It…is…gone,” Arden gasped, barely able to breathe.

     “What?!” Servain ripped the heart jewel from around Arden’s neck. It no longer held a glimmer of color, but was blackened and dark.

     Arden smiled. “You…are too late,” he managed hoarsely.

     Servain threw him to the ground. “You fool! You shall pay for this! And I promise you this: I shall find the Heart of Fire, and then I will not stop until humanity has been completely erased from this earth! The people’s screams shall ring across the land until all other noise is drowned out, and the suffering of the women and children shall be unmatched! This I promise!” He unsheathed his sword, a pale blade with a hilt in the likeness of a snake’s head.

     Arden, on his knees, smiled again. “And I swear this to you: you will never find the Heart, and may it be a man of my own family that destroys you, so that I and my people may be avenged!”

     Servain brushed aside the comment. “Goodbye, my King! May we meet again, in hell!” With one quick motion, he beheaded Arden, and so the line of Kings in Termainia was ended.

     The castle of the Royal family was the then broken asunder, and its stones fell into the lake and sank into the deep depths. The city was pillaged and its peoples killed, and that fate fell also to the cities and villages of Termainia in every direction. And so the hands of Darkness fell over that land…

So, I've decided to get a LiveJournal (obviously) so I can post some of my ramblings and writings. And...here...we...go!

A SLIGHT DISCLAIMER: I WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF PEOPLE DID NOT COPY THE WORK I POST HERE. ITS MINE, YA KNOW, NOT YOURS. THANKS.