Kyle
Chapter 2
“Master,” the white clothed Follower bowed subserviently.
“Speak.”
“We have found two boys who have the gift!”
“More?” He answered boredly. Since the bounty on gifted individuals, the
announcements of supposed Chosen had made administration more than tedious. When first
enacted, the law and bounty was managed directly by the Head Domsel. Now, several
decades later, it was relegated to Lesser Domsels.
“Yes, Master!” The Follower still prostrated himself.
“Oh, well, bring them!” He returned to the documents laid out in from of him.
“But,” the Follower blurted looking up at the Domsel. Then seeing the his glaring
eyes—for no Lesser Follower was to look upon a Domsel—he immediately cowered again.
“Master, they are of Nelen Jex!”
The Domsel rose his feet and walked around the desk menacing. He grabbed the
groveling man and lifted him up gruffly. The man began to blubber: “It’s true! It’s true! I
swear it!” He began to weep for fear of his life. The Domsel dropped him as he blubbered.
Progeny of Nelen Jex, the Great Defiler! He mused. While yet he was a Lesser
Domsel, this discovery, if true it would certainly lift him to a Greater Domsel. He squared
his shoulders, trying to appear more authoritative. As he walked around back to his chair,
small grin creased his scowled face. “Bring them to me!” He said sternly.
“We don’t have them yet, Master!”
“What! Why do you bring me lies?” If the Lesser Domsel could, he would have
vaulted over the desk and strangled the plebeian.
“Master, please! They got away! They are in Sommerston.”
“Find them!” He barked.
“Yes, Master!”
*****
‘nDric and Kyle left as soon as they were ready. Kyle never imagined that traveling
could be so involved—all the things they had to carry with them. Some of these things he
has always took for granted, like having fire or food nearby. ‘nDric had given him a cloak of
some sort and told him to ware it at all times including in the sun. That didn’t make much
sense, but Kyle was too tired to argue.
And tired he was! Normally, he was in bed right after the meal, but here he was
wandering about in the night (without telling his father) in the light of the waning moon. It
must be about midnight, he thought. Oh, will my father be upset tomorrow morning! I
don’t really know why I’m doing this: Grth has always been able to take care of himself
before.
They walked around to the back of the building to a shed where ‘nDric worked by
himself, and both of them stepped in. Kyle or Grth had never been in this building before,
so Kyle was a little uneasy walking around in the dark in there. There were cracks between
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the boards that made up the walls where light from the moon showed through casting streaks
of white on the straw floor. The shed was filled with flies and the smell of dung. The odor
wasn’t that strong, so Kyle got used to it rather quickly.
‘nDric had left the boy in the middle of the shed and went off into one very dark
corner. Within minutes, ‘nDric was back with both his arms raised and fists clenched. Kyle
did not like the looks of this, so he started to back up. The old dwarf was approaching much
more quickly than Kyle was backing up, so Kyle decided that this trip was a mite too
difficult for one so young as himself and turned to run back to the inn. The boy turned and
ran right into a supporting post.
When Kyle finally shook the daze from his mind, he found ‘nDric holding him up
with one arm. Yet, the other fist was still raised above his head. Kyle’s instincts kicked in
as he tried to roll out the dwarf’s reach.
“Boy, what is the matter with you? Haven’t you ever seen a horse before?” ‘nDric
almost exclaimed through his whisper.
The boy immediately relaxed after seeing that ‘nDric’s fist held reins that ended at a
horse—there were two of them. But, the horses were the darkest the Kyle had ever seen
before: they were coal black. Kyle immediately caught on: black for night riding and so was
the cloak.
“Are you all right now?” ‘nDric was asking in a loud whisper.
Kyle briefly nodded; realized that ‘nDric could not see that gesture then whispered
“yes.”
“Have you ever ridden a horse before?”
“No.”
“Wonderful!” ‘nDric murmured. “Well, you are going to learn very quickly and are
going to be very sore for a couple weeks.” The soreness didn’t bother Kyle too much: the
fascination of finally being able to ride a horse removed all hesitation. Kyle got up and
walked over to the horses.
“Not too fast! Never walk up to a horse that doesn’t know you very quickly. Also
speak softly to them until they are used to you.” ‘nDric cautioned.
Kyle listened carefully and obeyed. He walked slowly up to one of the horses and
patted its neck. The horse responded by turning its large head to Kyle and sniffing him from
toe to head. The hair protruding from the animal’s nostrils tickled Kyle’s face. Kyle closed
eyes tightly, held his breath, and made an amusing grimace as he was being inspected.
“These are very good horses. The one you have chosen is named Nathan, and the
one I will ride is named Ciber,” ‘nDric was already placing the packs on his horse. Soon he
was in the saddle; Kyle watched carefully how ‘nDric mounted. (It was rather amusing to
Kyle to see a four foot man climb up onto a five foot back of a seven foot monster—but he
did manage to do it).
Kyle tried to the same but fell backward into the hay. The hay was so soft: he should
have stayed there and slept until morning, but he knew that they must leave.
“No, don’t try it my way. Stand on the left side of the horse; Grab the horn of the
saddle—that’s that part that sticks up; put your left foot into the stirrup—that’s that thing
hanging down; and pull/step up swinging your right leg up and over. There!” As ‘nDric
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instructed, Kyle executed each step. When he was on, he felt a great sense of elation: it was
like conquering a mountain, in this case a tall, black monster.
“The reins are used to tell the horse where you want to go. Pull them left, and the
horse will go left; pull them right, and the horse will go right,” ‘nDric continued, “And to
stop, pull back on the reins—not too hard!” ‘nDric added when he saw Kyle’s horse object.
“These are excellent
horses, but pulling the reins too hard may cause them to throw you!” ‘nDric chided softly.
By the time they left the shed, the moon had dipped down by two hours. They were
progessing slowly, and ‘nDric knew it. It was a miracle that no one noticed any noise.
‘nDric silently hoped that no one really did. They rode due east until they came up the
southern tributary leading into the Long River. By then, the boy was already asleep on the
horse; Kyle’s horse was following ‘nDric’s. ‘nDric led his horse downsteam in a slow trot
then turned into the river and walked the horses for a few hundred yards. Then, he lead
them out of the river on the other side and went due north.
Most of the way was traveling through tall grass. The sky that night was clear and
the stars could be clearly seen. Although, it was not a good night for flight, because there
was enough light for anyone to see for miles. So, ‘nDric was careful to choose the routes
going in between the hills crossing over hills only when necessary.
Soon it would become light, ‘nDric thought, so I should find some cover. He looked
over at Kyle, it will take Kyle a few days to get used to travelling at night, he thought.
He looked off to the west and saw a forest not too far off coarse, so he guided the
horses towards it. The forest was dark—dark enough to hide the horses and themselves
well. As they approached the woods, ‘nDric felt like they were being watched; but the
horses were not hesitant so he led them slowly in.
Eyes followed them as they entered, but they were not hostile just curious. The old
dwarf stopped the horses after going into the forest about sixty yards. He dismounted and
tied the horse to a nearby branch of a bush and pulled the reins slowly so the horse dipped its
head. He stood upon his toes and whispered into the horse’s ear. After finishing, the horse
lifted its head—almost nodding—and whinnied clomping hoof. Then the dwarf walked
over to the other horse and the same thing. He then helped Kyle down and carefully placed
him against a tree next to Kyle’s horse. He himself then stretched out next a tree near his
own horse and fell asleep.
*****
It was morning when Grth woke up. He sat up and looked about. Trees surrounded
him and almost completely cut off the light. He had no idea what hour it was nor where he
was. This didn’t bother him as much as the fact that he was in a forest. His friends always
told him that spirits dwell in the woods, and the darker it was, the more likely of running
into some.
He got up and walked around. He was about to run when he heard a rumbling, but
then realized that it was his own stomach. He had not eaten since the night before, or did
he? He could not quite remember; yet, all he knew was that he was hungry, and he had no
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food.
He looked about but could find nothing that appeared to be palatable. So, he decided
to find out where he was. There was nothing spectacular there—nothing but gnarled trees.
As he was looking around there came to him a cold sensation that cut directly to his bones.
There was something wrong—something just didn’t feel right. He quickly looked around
and saw nothing—how could he? It was almost as dark as night in these woods.
“So, you can sense me, eh?” Came a voice that did not sound human.
Grth whirled about to where the sound came and saw nothing there. “Who are you!”
Grth cried more out of anger for being started. “What do you want!”
“My, but your a brash fellow! Don’t you know where you are? You really don’t do
you?” The voice said taunting. The voice was getting closer.
The coldness increased about Grth and the hackles on his neck rose. The outline of
the figure soon became appearent. It was the height of a man but did not walk like a man
would. Its voice cracked and squeaked like a rusty hinge on an old door. Each word was
filled with hatred and cruelity. It was as if the actual incarnation of hatred and cruelity stood
in front of Grth.
“What are you?” Grth managed.
“I am called many things by many people. But I am called Kalesi, the Wanderer.
You are brash and not well disciplined. You have not learned how to use your powers yet—
in fact, you fight them. How stupid that dwarf was not to recognize it.
“You say I have powers like Kyle does? Then, why can’t I use them?” Grth found
that using his brain wasn’t as difficult to do—it just takes time.
“You see an obsidian wall, don’t you? That wall is your refusal to accept your gifts!
You must accept what you have in order to use them to their potential.”
Grth snorted. Gifts! Ridiculous! Being like Kyle is no gift!
Kalesi continued ignoring him: “You will have to accept your fate, in order for you
to use your powers. There will be many times where you will have to use your powers. And
they will obey you implicitly if only you were to accept them! The Old Dwarf never told
you of this? No? That idiot! He thinks I am an idiot and am mad! Do you think me mad?”
Grth hesitated. This apparition’s mood swings made him very wary; he also recognized the
loaded question. “No, not in the slightest.” Grth lied carefully. He did not want to anger
this already mad apparition. The ruse worked, Kalesi calmed slightly.
“Well, I know he is coming for you, but he doesn’t know that I have set a trap for
him!” Kalesi exclaimed with horrible glee. The thought of having someone trapping ‘nDric
angered Grth.
“Why do you do you want to do this? What has he done to you?”
“Oh, silly boy, I want revenge! Many centuries ago, your Hypc’nDric killed me.”
Noticing the expression on Grth’s face, the wraith said, “You mean you didn’t know that
Hypc’nDric is more than three centuries old? Why else would they call him the Old
Dwarf!” The wraith was getting more and more shrill by the moment: it was beyond insane.
“Why are you telling me? You know I will not let you trap him.”
“Oh, that is the whole idea!” Kalesi calmed down to a taunting voice again and got
closer to Grth. “You are going to be the trap!” The apparition let out a scream of laughter
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the filled the forest and faded.
Grth was stunned by that declaration. How could I be the trap? This is ridiculous! I
would never trap ‘nDric! As Grth thought on this, he walked around in a circle kicking up
the leaves on the ground. Most the leaves on the ground were brown and beginning to
decompose. “I would never trap ‘nDric!” Grth said aloud. Finally tired of racking his mind
over this problem, Grth decided not to wait for the apparition to reappear and make him part
of something he did not want to do.
The light of day still illuminated parts of the forest, but it was obvious that daylight
was waning. Strange shapes seemed to move in the shadows between the trees. The hackles
on Grth’s neck started to rise as his stomach knotted with fear. The light was decreasing
more quickly now, and Grth started to panic.
How am I going to get out of this place? Grth thought with the panic of fear
emphasizing each word. The thought of having someone to talk to or even to be with right
at the moment made Grth desirous to see his brother again. Grth then realized that he may
“talk” to Kyle mentally like they always did. I wonder where he is right now, he thought.
*****
Kyle was the first to wake up; it was in the late morning. He was stiff and sore from
the ride: he never knew that he muscles in those areas. His back was the worst off, almost
everything was knotted and sore; just moving was new experience in pain. He looked about
himself and found to his dismay that he was in a forest. However, he was comforted to see
‘nDric was still with him: ‘nDric was sleeping against a tree some twenty paces from him.
‘nDric’s horse was alert and was standing like a sentry. Kyle’s own horse was close by and
was chewing some of the leaves from a bush. All were so relaxed that Kyle’s dread of the
forest was slowly calmed.
Kyle got up to his feet and decided to have look around. The hush of the leaves on
the trees above him as the wind passed over the tree tops had a calming effect on Kyle. In
fact, he could not remember why he was afraid at all: the beauty of the forest made Kyle
wonder why such stories about the forest were ever spread.
As he walked, he heard a soft gurgle of water splashing, cascading over rocks. He,
then, noticed how hungry and thirsty he was. Picking up the pace, Kyle walked towards the
noise, the soft loam giving under his feet as he walked. That sensation was familiar! Kyle
stopped and looked around. Where did he feel that before? Something about that feeling
made Kyle shiver. He closed his eyes and tried to remember but could not: it was as if
something was placed in its way. That perturbed him.
Still that feeling of dread lingered, and he did not like it. Slowly he backed away
from the direction he was going, panic building in his chest. He started going faster and
turned to run but ran head on into a tall dark cloaked figure. The man caught the boy before
he could fall.
“From what you running, small boy?” The man asked as he slowly, gently pushed
the boy from him for appraisal. “You need not be afraid.” He continued soothingly.
Kyle within these last two days had come to not trust strangers in least, and this man
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was no exception. He looked him over: the man was probably the tallest that Kyle ever saw.
He stood about seven foot and wore a jet-black cloak that covered him from head to foot.
The material of the cloak was not made from wool but was very soft and did not appear very
strong. His hands were large and long with a few scars from cuts; they held Kyle gently yet
firmly.
The man noticed that the boy did not trust him, so with one hand on the boy, he
slowly lifted the hood from his face. This was more of a token of trust on the man’s part.
Still the boy looked him over: the black hair was not well kept and somewhat long and
matted. A few clumps fell across his face touching his nose. He had a beard that was well
kept and trim; it ran from ear to ear and was shaved under the chin and neck. The facial
definition was astonishing and highly charismatic. Eyes, dark brown, looked at the boy
intently, waiting.
Kyle did not know what to think: he looked trustworthy on the outside but what
about the inside? He reached out into the man and looked deep into him. He saw much
traveling and suspicion—such distrust! How can anyone not trust everyone so much? But,
in strong contrast, he found that this man was a man of honesty. Basically, Kyle found that
he could relay on him as a friend—that is if this man wanted to get involved.
“I’m called Kyle,” Kyle spoke slowly.
“Good! I am Biknor,” the man said with a smile that made Kyle smile. “By the
way, it is unkind to enter a person’s mind without his permission.”
Kyle was taken aback. How did know that I was looking into him? And those
words! I said that before! But when?
The puzzlement on his was apparent, and Biknor saw it. Although, he did not want
to reveal too much to the boy—not yet. So, he just let it pass. “With whom are you
traveling, Kyle? For a boy so young, you must be with someone.”
Kyle’s instincts was about to tell Biknor, but Kyle was hesitant. But he remembered
that he could trust the man. What is happening to me? Kyle thought. “I’m traveling north
with Hypc’nDric,” Kyle responded slowly. Then he added quickly, “how did you know that
I was reading you?” That question just could not be left alone in Kyle’s mind.
Biknor regarded the boy carefully: Kyle was a boy—maybe a young man—but at
times he talks like a mature adult. Perhaps this boy/man could understand, he thought. “I
am able to do some things that others aren’t able to do. This is called the Power; it appears
that you have the same gift/curse.” Biknor knew that what he said was probably difficult for
the boy to understand, but something told him that Kyle did understand.
A mixture of questions flashed across Kyle’s face. ‘nDric said that all others like
himself and Grth were gone, did he lie or was he wrong? Why did he call the Power (as
how he put it) a gift and a curse? Are there any others or are there only three? Is there some
way to find out who has the Power? Why didn’t ‘nDric know about Biknor?
Biknor once again saw most of the questions and was amazed by the intelligence of
the boy. But still he would rather not answer those questions just yet; so he said, “Let’s go
and find your traveling companion called Hypc’nDric.”
The question by Biknor brought Kyle back to reality, and he looked around. Biknor
also looked about in the same directions that Kyle looked. A stricken look formed on Kyle’s
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face as he realized that he could not remember where he had come from. Biknor
immediately recognized the expression and smiled to himself in amusement.
Kyle looked down as he said, “I done remember where he is.” He slowly looked
back up to see Biknor smiling.”
“What are you smiling at?” Kyle said angered.
“Whoa! I was not laughing at you! I was just remembering when I got lost for the
first time. But you are lucky: I was alone in the woods, and I had to find my own way,” He
said defensively, raising his hands as if to ward off a blow.
Kyle wasn’t completely satisfied, so he stewed a little while. He looked down and
kicked at the leaves.
‘Kyle!’
“What?”
“Huh? I didn’t say anything,” Biknor said perplexed.
“Then who did?”
Kyle looked about and seeing no one else. He thought that he was just imagining
things.
‘Kyle! Where are you?’
“Someone is calling your name telepathically, Kyle,” Biknor heard it this time.
“Who could it be? Doesn’t he know that anyone with the Power can hear that?”
Anyone? That thought was very unsettling to Kyle. ‘Grth, where are you?’ Kyle
thrust.
“Hey! Not so loud!” Biknor protested.
‘I don’t know where I am. Boy, am I hungry!’
‘Let me see where you are.’
Kyle saw a seen that filled him with dread and fear—that must be Grth’s fear! It was
dark but he could make out images of trees and objects—creatures (said Grth’s
interpretation). Then the image ended.
“He’s in the Valley of Derangement,” the tall man said matter-of-factly. “He is in
great danger.”
“What do I tell him?”
“Tell him to stay put and to close his eyes.”
‘Grth did you hear that?’
‘Yeah. Who is that?’
‘His name is Biknor. Don’t worry, we can trust him.’
‘What do you mean we can trust him? You don’t even know him!’
‘Just trust me!’
“Thank you,” Biknor said sincerely.
“Can I pop Grth here?”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. The Gulf of Derangement is almost pure magic. I just
hope that he obeys.”
“How do we get back? I am lost.”
“With this,” Biknor said moving his hand slowly. A small glow appeared in his
palm and grew brighter. Biknor looked at the light and said, “lead us to the man with the
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name of Hypc’nDric.”
The light shimmered and moved away from his palm. It moved slowly as if it were
waiting for them to follow. When they started after the light, it kept pace with them staying
within a couple yards from them. Kyle was so entranced with that he stared at it for a long
time.
Finally, Kyle asked Biknor, “how did you do that?”
“Oh, you can do it too; I can teach you.”
Finding someone with the same abilities was so comforting to Kyle. At last, there
was someone who can understand me, Kyle thought. Maybe he can teach me more about
this Power.
They walked along following the small blip of light ahead of them. The light from
the late morning sun filtered through the limbs above them. Dust or some mist slowly
swirled and danced in the beams. The leaves made a crunching-shifting noise as they
walked on the forest floor.
More than an hour passed; soon, Kyle heard his name being called. It was ‘nDric.
Kyle ran up to the Old Dwarf and embraced him. After a few moments, ‘nDric pushed him
away and asked, “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you for a couple of hours!” His
anger was overshadowed by his concern.
Realizing his folly, Kyle looked down and said nothing. By that point, Biknor had
approached them. At the sound of his footsteps, Kyle looked up at Biknor. Biknor’s hood
was covering his face again. Kyle wondered to himself why Biknor was covering his face.
“I am Biknor,” he introduced himself. “You must be Hypc’nDric,” extending his
right hand.
‘nDric eyed him for a moment and then reached out and shook the extended hand.
That voice! ‘nDric thought. “You can call me ‘nDric. Thank you for guiding Kyle back to
me. Is there some way we can repay you?”
Kyle looked at the Old Dwarf questioningly.
“By allowing me to travel with you and be Kyle’s mentor, that would be payment
enough.” Seeing the tall man talk with his hood up seemed very ominous and impersonal.
Biknor’s arms were crossed with left hand clasping the right arm. The fingers wrapped
themselves almost completely around his arm.
“I don’t think that that would be wise.” ‘nDric said slowly, carefully watching the
visitor for any reaction. “We are fleeing from thieves from the south. I don’t think that you
would want to involve yourself in these matters.”
Kyle looked anxiously at the Old Dwarf. He was about to speak but a glance from
‘nDric kept his utterance. “We can trust him!” Kyle wanted to plea. But he respected the
dwarf so he said not a word.
“I may be of some help: I know this area very well.”
“How can I trust a man that leaves him hood up so that others cannot see his face?
I’m sorry, if you cannot trust us so far as to see your face, how can we trust you to travel
with us?” The question, reasonably asked, was filled with nettles of suspicion.
“All I ask is that you trust me to the end of this wood. From there, I will leave you to
your flight.” The sound of hooves interrupted the détente. They were approaching from the
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southeast. “Six men on horseback—they are approaching directly. You must find cover; I
will divert them. You will have to trust me for now, my friends. Now, go!”
It wasn’t difficult to find cover there were many nooks with well-leafed brush
covering the entrance. Kyle and ‘nDric each found a suitably sized one for themselves.
Kyle faced the oncoming horsemen and the hooded figure so he able to watch the
interaction. He was some twenty five yards from Biknor. Why was ‘nDric so suspicious of
Biknor? Why didn’t Biknor lower his hood as he did with me? Why didn’t Biknor say
anything about him finding me and how I trust him? The questions in Kyle’s mind just hung
without resolution.
The horsemen approached Biknor and surrounded him. They were obviously
angered, and breathed many threats at the hooded man. There was one among them that was
apparently the leader of the band for he did most of the speaking, although it was
intermingled with taunting remarks form the others. Biknor was facing away from Kyle so
he could not hear anything that he said. The questions from the leader he could hear
however:
“What are you doing here, Woodsman?” “We are looking for two renegades that
cheated us out of our money.” “Of course we are, why else are we running our horses to the
point of death.” “Look Woodsman, all we want is our money back and you always seem to
know when someone enters this forest. Have you seen them?” “One is an old dwarf and the
other is a human boy.” There was a pause and then the leader drew a long cutlass and
pointed it at the hooded figure. Kyle wanted to help but realized that he could do nothing.
“If you are lying to me, the leader threatened, I will have pleasure in torturing you to a slow
and painful death.” With that, the cutlass swiped Biknor’s right arm and slid into its sheath.
Biknor shuddered in pain yet remained standing straight looking at the leader. As the band
rode off in the direction that he had pointed, Biknor moved his left hand over the gash that
was already covering his sleave with blood.
When the band was out of sight, n’Dric moved towards the tall figure. Taking the
cue, Kyle ran up to him also. Although the hood was still up, Kyle could sense the pain and
pallor in Biknor expression.
“How’s the arm?” ‘nDric asked.
“It’s deep. I will need attention soon to restore the use of my arm. I think the artery
is undamaged, but the muscle is almost completely severed. And I think I better sit down.”
Biknor said moving slowing towards a tree.
“We can’t take you with us now. You would slow us down.” The Old Dwarf said
softly.
Kyle looked at the sleeve and almost gagged. He could see the cut material, his hand
was covering the cut flesh. His hand was streaked with glistening dark red blood. The
whole sleeve it self was covered with blood.
Biknor looked up at Kyle and smiled faintly and ironically. “It appears that you have
your first lesson.” ‘nDric looked at them both questioningly. “Put your hand on mine.”
Kyle looked up at ‘nDric; ‘nDric didn’t know what to think, but he decided to trust
Biknor this once. He nodded. Kyle placed his hand Biknor’s blood-covered hand.
“Now, look into it and tell me what you see.”
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Kyle knew what he has asking and pushed his awareness through his hand and into
the arm. There was pain—so much pain! It was the same kind of pain he felt in his legs
after they were clawed. Kyle knew that that was not what he was supposed to find, so he
pushed the pain out of his mind and “looked” at the wound. He could “see” that the cut
went all the way to the bone, yet there were strands still holding the groups of strands
together. These must be the muscle. He gave a quick report and tried to listen to the
response.
“Those strands you see are the muscle. Now, move in and force the strands together.
You must do it quickly.”
Kyle obeyed and starting with the innermost put/fused strand by strand the muscle
together. He felt like he had been at this for hours when finished the last one. He told
Biknor what he had done.
“Good, now look in again and you will find long, stringy filaments these must be put
back together in the same order as they were in. Then after that, look at the outer covering
of the muscle and sow this together.”
“I’ve already put the filaments together.” Kyle said. Within a few moments, Kyle
was done. And he removed his hand. He felt so drawn and tired. ‘nDric was kneeling on
the other side of Biknor and was watching intently. Kyle leaned up against the tree and fell
fast asleep.
“What happened to Kyle?” ‘nDric asked.
“As you know, when one uses their power, it requires a lot of energy. The only way
to restore that energy is to sleep.” Biknor said carefully as he inspected the mending. To
‘nDric’s amazement, the arm revealed a cut sleave but a perfectly healthy arm underneath it
—without even a scar. “My complements to Kyle,” Biknor said inspecting the work and
flexing his arm. “I haven’t seen a sew-up job like this for many, many years.”
‘nDric just looked at him. Noticing the gaze, Biknor turned to him and said, “I am
the Woodsman. You knew me once a long time ago.” With that Biknor removed the hood
from his face.
Recognition was immediate. “You were one of the Chosen. I thought you
died years ago in the last war.”
“I almost did. But, you were the one that amazed me! How could a man live as long
as you and not have the Power?”
“Luck.”
*****
After the communication, Grth just sat there under the tree and thought. More than
anything he felt sorry for himself for getting into that place. He looked around feeling the
hunger pangs increase to a demanding crescendo. Something told him that the most
important thing he must have is water and that he might be there for many days. So he
concentrated listening for the sound of any running water.
Within a few minutes, he was able to isolate a single sound that could only be
described as a gargling stream. He proceeded to walk in that path focusing on that lone
sound. Soon the sound intensified and Grth could barely control his excitement. He walked
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Kyle
faster, avoiding various obstacles, and almost burst into a run when the forest floor gave way
to a deep ravine which carried off a loud rushing water. The ravine was far too deep and
sheer for him to climb down. Discouraged, he turned away from the ledge and trudged back
into the forest.
Something was wrong. He was not paying much attention to the surroundings as he
came in but he did remember that he had to avoid a large boulder. But the boulder was no
longer there. He looked around and noticed other changes. Huge tree trunks that were near
the path on his return were either turned, much thinner, or not there at all. He looked about
very confused. He walked still further and looked behind himself.
As he was standing there beside a tree thinking about the phenomenon and feeling
the ache of hunger in his belly, he felt the familiar sense of coldness in his soul. He looked
up to see Kalesi approaching him. The feeling was so intense that he wanted to run away.
But he was beginning to wonder if that would make any difference.
“So, I see you have discovered one of the reasons why this is called the valley of
Derangement!” The wraith hissed with delight. “You are a very intelligent boy,” he said
tauntingly. “What do you think it is? Illusion? No! Something more fantastic!”
Forgetting his hunger momentarily, Grth asked: “what is it then? If it is not illusion,
then it must be real. What in this world can make me see a boulder as I go towards the river,
but then hide it from view when I come back?
“What indeed?” It laughed horribly. “Oh, by the way, I brought some food and
water—I don’t want any dead meat waiting for the Old Dwarf’s entrapment!”
Seeing the food made Grth forget about the anomaly. But as he began to sate
himself on the foul tasting roots and bark, the questions came slowly back into his conscious
thinking. He looked up to ask.
Kalesi was apparently watching him intently—almost longingly. The question in
Grth’s eyes were obvious, Kalesi did not have to wait for it. “You think that all the world is
as it seems? Well let me tell you that I have existed here for many centuries and have come
to know that that is not true.” Kalesi’s tone of voice has changed! He is actually trying to
teach me something! Grth thought. “When you look at a tree, do you see the rock behind
it? No. Why? Because the tree is blocking line of vision. Now, suppose that a line is not
the shortest distance between to points. This would mean that the tree may not block your
perspective directly in front of you but may block a perspective to right, left or behind you!”
It was quite clear that Kalesi was mad, but he did make sense.
“You do not believe me?” The question held the “normal” squeaky voice again.
“Get up! Now walk over towards the boulder and put your hand on it.” The squeak soon
changed into a shrill scream. Grth was once again afraid but did what the apparition
requested/demanded. Once he put his hand on the boulder, he looked back, and the wraith
approached him. Grth backed himself against the rock in fear of being attacked. “Good!
You still fear me!” It taunted again. “Now! What direction is the sound of the water
coming from?”
“South.” Grth said shaking, voice cracking.
“Good. Walk around to the other side of the boulder and tell me where the sound of
the water is coming from.”
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Kyle
Grth obeyed. As he walked around, he became amazed that the sound of the water
was always in front of him. At last, he reported that the sound was coming from the north.
Grth was very confused now.
“This is because this continent used to be two continents and a long time ago they
were joined magically. But the magic was flawed; so, the southern and northern regions
overlap and fold. This means that any attempt to save you must come from the sole vantage
voice that can see you. All others lead away from you and every other object. Therefore you
are the trap!” The instructing wraith summed up it madness with a wrenching laugh/scream
and faded away.
Grth sat on the floor of the forest and put his back against the boulder. With the
sound of the water coming behind him, he let the significance of the wraith’s final words
sink in. “Folding,” He thought. The area is “folded into itself.” Kyle once described what
the world looked like when is in between popping in and popping out, and he said it looked
“bent in; folded.”
With minutes, Grth found himself falling asleep. He shook his head to try to clear it
but to no avail. The landscape looked more strange and unnatural. Light from the trees
above fused itself with the surroundings forming a kaleidoscope of colors and figures. As
far as he could tell, the figures were moving towards him. He tried to move but found his
limbs to be heavy and dead as the wood he used to carry for fires. The last thing he could
remember was a thing appearing to be a hand reaching down to touch his shoulder before he
fell into a deep sleep.
*****
Kyle awoke to a morning on horse back. The whole idea of riding while asleep was
unnatural to him—how can a man do that? But, still, he found himself on the horse, and it
plodded behind a horse carrying a tall man in a black cloak—Biknor. Kyle looked up and
felt the sudden ache of riding for many hours. From what it looked like, they were traveling
northwest and were still in the woods.
“Ah, Kyle, so you live!” ‘nDric’s laughed from behind. “Beautiful morning, isn’t
it?” After a few moments, he said, “The ache from riding will go away in due time. You
must be hungry. Woodsman! Ho!”
Biknor turned his horse to meet ‘nDric.
“Yes, this would be a good place to eat and rest the horses.” He looked at Kyle who
looked sore and a little pale. The hood covered well the concern he had. “I think I shall take
a walk. You two start a small camp fire, and I will be back soon.”
Biknor tied his horse to a bush and went off. ‘nDric started clearing the area for a
small fire. Every once in a while, he looked in the direction that Biknor had taken. It was
not long before the Woodsman could not be seen. By that point, Kyle was off his horse
gathering limbs.
Biknor returned with a small, bulging bag when the fire was ready. He took a small,
shallow pot/dish with a handle from his horse. Kyle did not remember Biknor with a horse,
but he was too tired to ask. Biknor used a stick to separate some live coals and placed the
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pot on them. He opened the bag he was carrying, took out some leaves, and placed them in
the pot. With a twig, he stirred the contents until it began to smoke. Then he poured water
in the bowl. The bowl objected to the addition of water as it hissed and blew off steam.
Biknor used a stick to lift the bowl from the coals. He poured the dark liquid into a
small cup and handed it to Kyle. ‘nDric and Kyle were watching him with interest. But as
soon as Biknor offered the potion to Kyle, ‘nDric could not stand by any longer.
“What is that?” ‘nDric asked lifting the liquid away from Kyle.
“It is simply a mixture of herbs to help Kyle feel better.” Biknor responded
unperturbed and proceeded to give the cup back to Kyle.
‘nDric conceded and Kyle drank slowly. It tasted somewhat bitter, but it did help
him feel his vitality return. They had a small breakfast consisted of dried meat and fruit.
“You know that the fire will attract thieves; so, we better be on our way.” ‘nDric
said after finishing his meal. Both nodded, and all mounted their horses.
They continued on their way. They had traveled for two days now, and Kyle began
to worry whether Grth was actually alive. Without food and maybe without water a man
cannot last for long—three days at the most. His concern was mirrored in the face of ‘nDric,
but never did he say a word. Kyle’s mind wondered over the last few days events. Being at,
sleeping at, living at home almost seemed a dream of some unreality or wish.
It was midday when they reached the edge of the forest where they turned due west.
There were a few roads and paths but they avoided them. By late afternoon, Biknor lead
them to a well traveled road. Rode at a trot passing a few travelers that looked tired and
distrusting to Kyle. The looks the other travelers gave to them was a hateful dishonesty.
Kyle could not understand what he had done that was deserving of their distaste. The
realization came as sudden as a slap of cold water to the face: they were semi-well dressed
and had well groomed horses whereas the travelers were in rags and had ill kept donkeys to
lead their wagons. They were miserably poor.
The realization made Kyle self-conscious, but little time passed before they were far beyond
their scrutiny. Kyle let that image of the wagoneers slip from his mind. Traveling, riding is
very boring he thought to himself. As he was thinking, he noticed that his legs were aching
and he was again not feeling too well. Reality to him was something vague and obscure. It
started with his peripheral vision: it was kind of blackness—numb blackness. This obscurity
quickly closed in around him. What he saw in front of him closed up like he were looking
down an elongating tunnel which finally closed off completely.
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Chapter 3
“Status!” Boomed the Domsel when he saw the door swing open.
The Follower dropped immediately to the floor so his legs stuck out in the
hallway. “They have escaped! One twin has been led away to the Valley of Derangement
and the other escaped with a dwarf.”
Twins! The Domsel was well versed in the old prophecies about the twins of
Nelen Jex. But he was even more interested in the fact that there would be two Chosen
with all the powers of Nelen Jex. Possibilities of great rewards swirled in his mind.
After a few moments he came to himself. He eyed this incompetent fool; the temptation
to execute this wretch at once was very strong. But, if the rumor were true and there were
twins of Nelen Jex still alive.... “Send Jornon after them.” He said after some thought.
The Follower rushed out of the room. The Domsel sat down to let all the facts sink
in. How was he supposed to deliver the one that’s in the Valley of Derangement? No
mercenary would be willing at any price to enter there. A cruel smile crept up his shallow
cheek: “I will have to talk to Dominstra, the harpy queen.”
*****
“What thin'ye with it we can do?” the voice cackled.
“Ah don'no. Morsel...Slave, perhaps? But for meat it does not have much, yet
young it is, and it we can always fatten.” The other voice said laughing.
Grth just lied there listening to the conversation. He had a strong impression that
they were talking about him. He felt the cold breeze pass over him. They had taken all of
his clothes! He felt a blush of anger coming on but was able to suppress it. He had to
stay calm, for if they knew that he was listening, they might not like it. His hands and
feet ached from what he found to his dismay were chords of rope tightly lashed. He could
not look to see how thick the rope was for fear of being discovered.
Somehow he had to find a way out of there. Even the horrible presence of the
wraith was better than these creatures. He felt a cold, bony, calloused hand squeeze his
leg in the same way an old hag squeezed a tomato to see if it is ripe. The very thought
that came with the touch made Grth shudder suddenly.
“Oho awake the little one is and to us listening, that he is!” said the first with the
same cackle.
“Aye, right ye'are,” said the second. “You! Little morsel! Lift yourself!” She
said prodding him in the leg with a long fingernail.
Grth opened his eyes carefully and sat up. He was lying on some kind of leather
table or bed in a small cavernous room. Fungus was hanging from the walls and ceiling
dripping with moisture. The floor was dirty and had bones scattered here and there.
There was a nauseous odor of urine and feces. He looked over at two short women that
were hideously hunched over wearing sordid rags and furs that dangled from their body
like the ceiling fungus. They were dirty and had matted, greasy hair that clumped to their
skulls. In the light, he could barely make out hole-rittled wings protruding out of their
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backs. They were harpes. The realization made Grth shudder once again.
“So see ye our ugliness and because of it shake!” the second one hissed. Anger
setting her face in such a contortion that its ugliness rivaled 'nDric smile.
The comparison of 'nDric's smile to her frown made Grth smile slightly. As he
figured it, the only way to get away from these hags was to somehow flatter them—in
other words, lie. “No, I don't think you're ugly,” Grth said trying to muster all the
sincerity he could. He noticed that there were scratch marks on her face that did not
exactly heighten her beauty. But that did mean that they have fought a few times. Maybe
he could use that a little later.
“And why not?” she shrieked.
Oops. She likes being ugly, Grth realized. “No, it's not that you aren't ugly, but
the other is much uglier than you. She is the one that scared me.” Grth was able not to
allow any irony enter his voice so the hag could not detect he was lying.
As Grth was speaking, the other one came up smiling grotesquely. Flamed
emotions erupted in the face of the harpe that he was talking to. “Lie ye do! Handsome
liar!” She shrieked reaching out with her dirty claws. The other just stood by and
watched.
Grth was confused. The other one is supposed to step in and save him, but it
looked like she was just as willing to let the other one kill him as before. Well, at least
she feels a little more secure now with her ugliness. In a flash, the claws came acrossed
his chest like rusty razor blades tearing his flesh.
Pain seared through him with heated fire. The other harpe laughed at Grth's pain.
She reached over with one tainted finger, touched the flowing blood, and tasted it. Her
eyes rolled in delight and let out another cackle.
“Sister! Taste ye must!”
Anger filled Grth. He thrust his mind out to the one that tasted his blood. The
harpe stopped smiling and let out a scream that hurt Grth's ears but he didn't stop. The
harpe started shuddering, froth dripping from her mouth. A second later, her head bloated
and exploded spraying flesh all over the rock walls, then she collapsed to the floor.
But Grth was not satisfied his anger cuminating to absolute hatred for the one
enflicted pain on him from the start. The remaining harpe stood there staring at the
twitching corpse on the floor. She turned to look at Grth who was now looking at her
with pure hatred. She saw the look in his eyes and started backing away.
Grth saw her reaction and the fear and that reminded him of what he did to Kyle.
Many thoughts ran through his mind: she was going to kill him and would probably still
do it, she had purposefully hurt him, he thought that destroying her would lead to nothing,
he needed a guide to get out of the cavern, yet she needed to pay for what she had done to
him. The solution came suddenly and brought an ironic smile to his lips. Seeing the
smile, sudden dread came over the harpe; she turned to run. She slipped on some mud
formed by the dropping water and landed on her face.
She looked back at Grth who was following her with his eyes. She cowed and
covered her face with her knarled hands. Grth concentrated once more and found himself
facing the tall obsidian wall again. Why did he confront the with the other harpy? He
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Kyle
couldn't waste any time on that question. The height and heaviness of the wall started to
make Grth discouraged. But he realized that if he didn't act soon she would either be
gone, or she would attack him again. He forced with all his might against the wall, but
could not get through. Noticing the delay, the harpe got up and brought out a long curved
knife which had small hooks on it.
“Since my sister's life ye have taken, yours ah shall have to take, witch-boy!” She
moved slowly towards him the blade ready.
Panic ran through his body; it took much effort to keep from loosing control. He
recalled back to what the wraith had said: “in fact, you fight it.” How else does one gain
control of it, he thought. A cool thought came to him: “You must accept what you have
to use it,” was essentially what the wraith said. She was some ten feet from him now, but
he looked inward again and saw the obsidian wall. This time he did not fight it; he did
not push against it; he quelled all animosity towards it. It was there and he had to accept
it; so, he forced himself to accept it for the urgency of the situation. She was seven feet
from him now. He put his hand up and touched the wall; it passed through it. He walked
slowly through the wall feeling it touch his skin but not hindering him. She was standing
over him now, raising the knife over his chest. He looked at her and said: “Change.” His
voice rippled through the air and sounded deeper than ever before.
Fear and terror cut through her face again, and she backed away once more.
Waves of light passed over her in iridescent radiance. She dropped the knife but it hung
in space rigidly held there, but she didn't notice. Light intensified, and it became
impossible for Grth to watch. When the light faded, the knife fell to the ground with the
sound of blunted metal. Grth uncovered his eyes and looked and the woman standing in
front of him.
The harpy touched her face, and with disbelief she saw the her hands were that of
a maiden's. She was a slender, incredibly beautiful woman. The harpy looked herself
over and over. Even the rags that she was accustomed to were replaced by a modest,
colorful dress.
“What have ye done to me?” She demanded in a voice that could no longer
express the anguish she felt.
“I've repaid you for your kindness,” Grth said pointing at his chest. “Now, if you
want your ugliness back, you will set me free and heal these cuts.” He continued coolly.
Dismay lined her face but she acquiesced. She walked towards Grth and began
fumbling with the knots. After some time, she was able untie him. Her hands must have
been much stronger before the change, because she kept cursing at hands in a language
that was foreign to Grth. When she was done, Grth kept the cords. The hag/woman left
the room and returned with a small, ceramic jar containing a foul smelling grey paste.
With a delicate hand, she scooped the paste and proceded to spread it over the scratch
marks that were already covered with dried blood. She scowled at the smell.
As she spread the goo, she asked, “Why can't ye yourself heal?”
The peculiar way she spoke still Grth by surprise. “I don't have much control over
it,” he answered in a way that ended the conversation.
After finishing, she left again and came back with his clothes. He put them on
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Kyle
and tied the rope around his waist. Slowly, his adrenaline waned and he felt fatigue wash
over him. His mind felt dull, and he felt his eyes glazing. But, until he was free he could
not let his guard down. One cannot trust a harpy.
*****
n'Dric noticed Kyle's figure slump forward in the saddle. He rode up beside him
and looked into his face.
“Woodsman!” 'nDirc yelled after the cloaked man.
Biknor slowed until he was on the other side of Kyle's mount. Since he was used
to riding for extended periods of time, he was not weary. The expression in 'nDric's face
caught the Woodsman by surprise.
“What's wrong?” He asked expressing this surprise.
“What did you put in that drink?” the Old Dwarf asked accusingly.
“It was merely a potion of herbs to help him feel less wan.”
“How am I supposed to be sure that you did not drug him?”
“Why are you questioning me so? What have I done?”
“Isn't it obvious? Look at Kyle!”
They stopped the horses, and Biknor dismounted. He walked around to Kyle and
inspected his face. Kyle's face was hot and dry. All of the tone had left his cheeks, so he
was deathly pale. He felt for a pulse in the neck and found it very weak. He pulled the
horse over to the side of the road and lifted Kyle from his mount without much difficulty.
He proceeded to inspect him starting from the head and moved towards the feet.
“I am trying to look for the reason for Kyle's fever,” Biknor said sensing the rising
question. “His illness is likely to be from a poisonous parasite or a snakebite. I'm
looking for some sign....” He cut off as he lifted Kyle's pant leg. Exposed were sores that
were white with infection. The infection had almost obscured the claw marks. “What's
this?” Biknor exclaimed at 'nDric.
“Grth changed himself into a beast and attacked Kyle. I washed and bandaged the
cuts.” 'nDric responded defensively.
“And you simply forgot about them? You should know better than this! He's
lucky to be alive!”
'nDric was taken aback and didn't know what to say. How did he forget
something so important as this. Of course, Kyle would not complain about an ache or a
sore. No wonder Kyle was so fatigued all the time! 'nDric turned his face in fury—angry
at himself and the whole circumstance.
Seeing the torment in the Old dwarf's eyes (seeing anything in dwarves' eye is a
feat in itself), Biknor decided that pursuing this line of argument would do no good—
especially for Kyle.
They were some ten miles from the nearest town. Riding at a full run on a horse
would get them there in about twenty minutes—too long. Kyle needed attention now. He
looked up at 'nDric again. The Old Dwarf was still turned away with his head bowed.
Biknor understood what 'nDric was feeling, but they still needed to tend to Kyle.
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“'nDric, could you help me? We need to move him into the forest.” Biknor said
softly.
'nDric turned, slowly showing the emotion he felt. But quickly gathered himself
and went to the boy's feet. They lifted Kyle and carried him deeper into the woods, and
the horses followed on their own volition.
The day was waning, and the sun showed it's bright light through the woods. The
heat from the day soon was carried away in a gentle breeze. Soon 'nDric had a small fire
burning with a kettle of water boiling. Biknor took the pot and crushed some herbs into
the water with his hands. With each addition, the liquid effervesced. Finally, he licked
his finger and stuck it in the pot. The heat from the liquid burned it slightly, but the pain
quickly disappeared as he stirred the potion. Within a few seconds, the potion was black,
thick, and oilly. It bubbled and hissed. Biknor pulled out his finger and cleaned it off.
'nDric was watching in amazement. The water was boiling hot, but Biknor's finger
showed no sign of a scald.
The Woodsman fished around in his pouch and pulled out a tied bunch of corn
husks that had been torn into thin strips. He kneeled down next to Kyle and dipped the
stock of husks into the oilly liquid. The black, pitchy potion clung to the stock and
matted the stripped leaves together. He carefully brushed the potion on the infected
sores. As soon as he started, 'nDric noticed that he worked much faster, almost hurried.
But, he was obviously very careful to get every inch.
Once done, Biknor dropped the pot (without spilling its contents), ran to the fire,
grabbed a firebrand, and rushed back. By then, the potion-covered sores were erupting
with puss, spitting it on the ground. The sight made 'nDric feel very ill. 'nDric did not
know what Biknor was going to do with the firebrand, but he felt unwise to ask.
The wounds continued their eruptions, each further than the one before. Biknor
and 'nDric carefully avoided each spray. It was as if the poison was trying to spit out the
noxious counter-poison. Within a few minutes, the eruptions ceased, and a small wisp of
smoke came out of the center. It lifted vertically and stopped one yard from Kyle's leg.
There it swirled and coalesced into a translucent sphere. The smoke stopped rising and
formed a column connecting the sphere to the leg.
At that moment, Biknor jabbed the firebrand into the sore at the base of the
column of smoke. The column of smoke caught fire and led straight up to the sphere.
There was a hollow cry from within the sphere which flew straight up to the sky trying to
run away from the fire. The travelers' eyes followed its trail. Moments later, there was a
small fireball followed by a small explosion.
“Pretty impressive,” was all 'nDric could say.
Biknor just glanced at 'nDric who was gawking at the sky. He knelt down to the
boy and lifted the now extinguished firebrand. With a cloth, he wiped the pitchy potion
from the wound. Cleaned, it showed fresh pink skin. There were only small lines where
scratches once were. He took a small, glass flask from his pouch and put a drop in Kyle's
mouth. Color returned in the boy's cheeks.
“He'll be all right. He'll just need rest.”
'nDric looked at Biknor, and a question crossed his mind. “What did you do?
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Kyle
That sphere looked awfully familiar.”
“Of course, it should look familiar. I changed the infection into a 'wisp. I find it a
lot easier fighting something I can see. And, you know how much 'wisps hate fire!”
Biknor smiled deviously.
'nDric smiled remembering the small explosion. “Do you do all your magic with
potions?”
“You know better than to call it 'magic.' And, I really don't need to use potions—
it's just a distraction.” Biknor then sensed a reaction. “Don't misunderstand me. The
potions do help, like this one here. The potion only healed the leg; I did the rest.”
They decided the only way to safely get Kyle to town was for him to ride with
Biknor who would hold him in his saddle. Kyle was still unconscious but was sleeping
deeply. They rode in darkness and reached the town about midnight. The first hint of the
town's existance was a tavern. They stopped there to bed down.
“What want ye?” Growled an old, gnarled innkeeper.
“Lodging for three,” Biknor responded without hesitation.
“M'store's closed. Go away!” The innkeeper said closing the door.
“We only desire to stay for the night in your humble inn.”
This diction was only a formality. Minutes later, the travelers were let in and
prices were settled. They were lead up some stairs and down a corridor. The room they
shared was old and dusty. There were two beds made of straw bound in a wool blanket.
The wool was moth-eaten and smelled of mold. The floor was made of wood and was
water stained—it did not look very safe.
“Maybe we should have slept outside.” 'nDric mumbled.
Biknor didn't need to say anything, but he did agree. These were the one of the
worst rooms he's ever been in. He went to one of the windows. Fortunately, they were
on the corner of the building, so there were two windows.
“Take to boy out for a minute while clean the place.” Biknor said as he opened
the window. As window opened the clamor of the night flowed in.
'nDric knew that Biknor was going to use some of his power to speedily clean and
refurbish the decrepit room. He really wanted to watch the phenomenon but did not
argue. He walked out with Kyle slung over him shoulder and closed the door. As the
door closed, he felt the hackles on his neck rise.
Biknor opened the other window and walked to the opposite corner of the room.
There he traced a square in the air. It shimmered in the moonlight as he pushed it to the
center of the wall. He walked to the window and stepped out on the roof. Turning
around, he closed the window and looked in the room to where the plain hung,
suspended, on the wall. He flicked his finger at the plain, and it immediately started to
expand to fill the whole wall. He quickly turned and put his back to the outside wall.
The sound of creaking and splintering of fresh wood came from the room. At
times, it reached the crescendo of shattering glass as the plain moved effortlessly across
the room. Moments later, the plain passed the window next to where Biknor was
standing. The brightness almost burned the night away, yet passed on. One minute later,
there was a sound of a great wind from the other window around the corner. Biknor
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Kyle
turned to enter the window and fell through the roof.
'nDric turned to see a shadow and a toothy smile within standing above him. He
felt cold, gleaming steel push against his neck. He sensed another standing behind him—
as a matter of fact, there were about three in the hallway. The hallway was sparsely
lighted, making recognition impossible.
“So, this is the boy with the gift. You should have brought him to us, Old
Dwarf,” the voice said coolly.
The Old Dwarf recognized the voice but didn't say anything. The hunters must
have long anticipated their coming, because there was no hint of fatigue in his henchmen.
Not one of them smelled of horses, unlike they-themselves.
“Where is the Woodsman? He lied to us so he must pay.” The voice continued
unperturbed by 'nDric's silence. There was creaking sound from within the room that
made everyone turn. “So, he's in there!” The soft, cool voice quickly turned to stone.
The two henchmen behind 'nDric rushed to the door. They opened the door just
as the plain passed the door frame. The two men could not speak as the colorful
iridescence flooded them. Within an eyeblink, they transformed into misshapenned ice
crystals which immediately shattered like glass into fragments. 'nDric quickly put Kyle
down and slammed his knarled fist into the speaker's croch. The henchman dropped to
his knees in pain. 'nDric finished the score with a slam in the back, and the henchman
fell to the floor unconscious.
Carefully, he looked in the room. A large, transparent plain of glass-like
substance moved toward the window. Everything it touched became as if new, but there
was an unusual sheen to the surfaces. The sound of the wood mending was something
like a colossal ship at sea in a tempest. Moments later, a huge wind almost pulled him in
and through the window. He looked again and the plain was gone. A motion at the
window caught his eye, but there was nothing more of it.
He carried Kyle and the prisoner into the room. He laid Kyle on one of the beds
that was no longer made of wool and straw but was linen and feathers. Out of one pack,
he got a length of rope and tied the hands of the prisoner. He looked about for Biknor,
only finding a hole in the roof outside one of the windows. A smile crept into the Old
Dwarf's making the facing wall weaken noisily.
The ruckus down the corridor confirmed 'nDric's suspicions. The basic gist of the
noise was that one of the visitors had fallen through the roof—which brings the question
of why he was on the roof in the first place? And what was all that noise in the corner
room to which the innkeeper had rented some late-comers. That was the sum of all the
yelling and screaming. The whole situation gave 'nDric complete entertainment.
After about a half an hour, Biknor walked heavily (stomped) into the room. His
countenance was blacker than normal. When 'nDric looked at him, he started laughing
waking the prisoner into shuddering fear. This distracted Biknor from strangling 'nDric.
“Who's that!” Biknor pointed over to the cowed figure in the corner.
“One of the friends of yours that sliced your arm,” 'nDric said recovering enough
to put an edge in his voice. The intended victim for that edge turned his head to Biknor
who was now looking more dangerous than before.
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Kyle
“Who are you?” Biknor asked pointedly at the prisoner.
That gave the man a little confidence. “Who are you to care?” He retorted.
“I am the Woodsman. I like to hunt assassins and henchmen.”
Not shaken by the last comment, the prisoner remained silent. Biknor noticed his
determination and decided to use a little ruse. “What do you know about me?” He asked
changing to a amiable countenance.
“You are a witch-doctor,” the prisoner responded with a little vulgarity.
“Then you won't mind if I try my malpractice out on you?”
Not understanding what “malpractice” actually meant did not hinder the prisoner
from understanding that this witch-doctor was intending to experiment on him. The
reaction was obvious: the henchman was terrified.
“Now that we understand each other, how about answering some simple
questions?”
The man nodded blankly. “I am Saeman.”
“Okay, Salmon, who sent you?” 'nDric came in.
“Saeman!” He snapped at the dwarf, but turned quickly back to Biknor who was
fingering a blade. He immediately turned white and hastily said, “I don't know.”
“You don't know? That's interesting! It seems unusual to me that a henchman
leader should not know his employer.”
“I tell you! I don't know!”
“Okay, then tell us where you were deployed.”
“Vale of Sommerston.”
“Are there anymore of you?” 'nDric asked.
Saeman looked nervously at the blade and Biknor, then back at the dwarf. “Yes,
there are five more outside waiting for our report.”
“Do you like this blade?” Biknor taunted. The prisoner just blankly nodded.
“Look at it! See how it gleems!” Within a few seconds, the prisoner was transfixed.
“Time is of the essence.” Biknor said turning the dwarf. “It's too late to send him
back without any message.”
'nDric turned to the staring prisoner. “Where are your companions?”
“Three are on the northwest corner and three are on the southeast corner,” the
prisoner answered absently.
Realizing the previous lie, Biknor pursued the second question: “Who hired you?”
“I don't know.”
'nDric turned to the Woodsman, “Is it safe for me to wake Kyle?”
Biknor nodded. And proceeded to instruct Saeman that a trap was set by the
group. Two of them were killed by being turned into glass and shattered. Saeman, the
remaining, was knocked unconscious by the dwarf, before the group fled.
All the while, 'nDric slowly was rousing Kyle from his sleep. Biknor must have
placed a sleep spell on Kyle, 'nDric thought. Finally, Kyle was awake enough to walk,
and the prisoner was completely prepared.
Biknor then walked to a wall and drew with his finger an imaginary door. When
he was done, a metallic rectangle appeared. The metal dissolved when Biknor touched
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Kyle
the right side a few times. The three walked quickly into the blackness.
*****
The harpy led Grth down a myriad of tunnels which basically moved downward.
Not being used to her new form, she would often stumble and curse. Finally, they
emerged to the open air. It was late morning and the sun was approaching its zenith. The
familiar atmosphere of utter confusion started to sweep him as he walked behind her. But
she did not seem to have any problem.
“Aye, there ye go! On with ye!” She was saying.
She was staring at him. The surroundings were quite confusing for he knew not
which way to go. Slowly, he came to the conclusion that only she could get him out of
this accused land. Since her change, she has become more and more comfortable as a
traveling companion. The mere thought seemed totally absurd but... He looked about
forming the proposition.
“You know you are a very pretty woman,” he started.
Chagrined she responded, “yea, verily I know it.”
This was going to take some work. The whole perspective had to be reversed.
“Where I come from, ugly is to your kind as beautiful is to ours. You would now be able
to leave this vale.”
“Why should I wish to leave?” She asked trying to put a snarl in her voice,
succeeding only in producing a pout.
The unnatural contortions in her face as she spoke almost made Grth completely
loose control. This was going to be difficult. “Let me put it this way,” he started again
carefully. “How about leading me to the edge of the vale, where I then would change you
back and make you uglier still?” The only way, Grth figured, was to find a way just to
get out. The time needed to get her used to her new form would be just about a day.
Furthermore, he was not quite sure he could change her back.
This new proposition seemed to tempt the beautiful harpy. Noticing this, Grth
added a further comment: “If you don't, I'll leave you as you are. And what would the
other harpies do to you if they found you like this?”
“Not I would find the chance to meet my other kind!” She retorted, still the retort
was muffled by her immence beauty. But, still, Grth's last comment did affect her.
Finally, she acquiesed.
Soon, they became hungry. The harpy sat down by a tree and reached into a bag.
She seemed completely contented to eat by herself, so Grth let her alone while he went to
forage some food. Whatever she took out to eat, he knew he would find more than just
distasteful.
Grth congratulated himself on paying some attention to 'nDric's lessons describing
what could be eaten in the forests. While he searched about for some edible berries, there
came a horrible scream. Grth ran back to find the harpy doubled over, vomiting.
Perplexed, he just stood there.
“Vile creature!” She tried to scream accusingly at Grth. “Made me dislike my
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Kyle
own food thou hast!”
Great, Grth thought. Another reaction to the change. Now, I'll have to gather
food for two. He looked about and found nothing more than before—only a few berries.
The only way for them to eat was to conjure it, he thought sitting down.
“What think ye? Perish for lack of food while sitting?” the “old” crone wailed at
him in frustration.
Ignoring her, he concentrated searching for the wall. There it was, as black and as
impenetrable as ever. In his mind, he carefully reached for the wall. He had no animosity
only acceptance in that touch; he passed through effortlessly. He formed a bowl of fruit
in front of him with his mind. When he opened his eyes the bowl was there but only half
full. Still the hag was impressed.
“Me told that control hast not! But, what thou hast done!” Even though her
scornful voice was not possible in her present form, Grth had quickly recognized the
occasions when she was critical. This time she was not: Grth was completely taken
aback. Still, why was the bowl only half full? He had concentrated on a full bowl.
The harpy seemed not to care, for she dove her hands ravenously into the bowl.
Grth tried a red fruit; it was tasteless and felt pasty. He really didn't care for he was too
hungry. They ate and were contented. As the last fruit was taken, the bowl disintegrated
into a pile of dust which was blown away by the wind. Grth noticed each of these
happenings, yet did not let his concern influence his companion.
They travelled on until dusk. Grth had to completely trust the direction sense of
the harpy, for he was thoroughly lost. It even appeared to him that they were traveling in
a curved line—almost spiraling outward. He wondered what the harpy saw to lead them
in this particular direction.
They traveled a little further before finding a suitable place to rest for the night.
Grth leaned against a tree opposite to his companion—trust was something that she had
yet to earn. Grth was very tired: fatigue being only thing that kept him from staying
awake, so he immediately fell into a deep sleep.
The harpy eyed the boy as he nodded off. The idea of him stealing her much
desired ugliness infuriated her, but she could do nothing until he restored her. Without a
doubt, this was a companionship by extortion; but, being powerless, she held her peace.
Revenge for her hateful sister's martyr would be enough to please her after her own
restoration. After this thought, she allowed herself a very light doze to come over her.
*****
As soon as they entered the corridor Biknor created, the door behind them closed
off. They weren't exactly in complete darkness, because a soft, colorless glow emanated
from the walls: each could see each other easily. Biknor lead them down the “hall” to a
brighter glow.
Biknor held up his hand, and the others halted. His head disappeared as it passed
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Kyle
through the bright wall ending the corridor. Within a moment, he pulled it back and
turned to the others.
“We are about five hundred yards from the inn. I can't see anyone outside, but
that does not mean we are safe. This corridor will only remain connected to this point for
another hour while we are in it. They can't follow us through the other end, because it is
sealed. If we are to move, we must do it now.”
Kyle and 'nDric looked at each other. The concept of this corridor was beyond
Kyle's comprehension, but he had no desires to wait and find out.
“Let’s go,” 'nDric said grimly and Kyle nodded in agreement.
Receiving the responses, Biknor nodded and turned to the exit. He poked his
head out and moved slowly out. Kyle and followed his lead and passed out of the exit.
Once everyone had exited, the portal closed up with a soft clap.
From the portal to the corridor, they quietly moved to various forms of cover.
Morning was approaching so they would have to move soon. The moon was well passed
out from view, yet the night was clear and bright. Hiding from mercenaries would be
difficult. 'nDric was beginning to wish he had his weapon.
“How are we going to get our mounts?” Kyle whispered harshly.
“We may have to leave them,” 'nDric answered.
Kyle did not like that idea in the least. The likely thing Grth would do was to go
and get them. This impetuous action now seemed like a very good idea to Kyle. They
certainly could not travel very fast without the horses.
“Where are they?” Kyle asked.
“You are not going to go and get them! There is no way for you to get in there
safely,” 'nDric snapped.
“How do you propose we travel? By foot?” Biknor sided with Kyle.
“Are you mad? Kyle's too young! He'll never make it.”
'nDric's protective nature was getting on Kyle's nerves, but he didn't say anything.
Kyle was surprised for Biknor to agree with him in the course.
“I'm not saying that he go, but I'll go.”
Yep, it was too good to be true, Kyle thought. The only way 'nDric was going to
accept me as an adult, would be for me to do things on my own, Kyle figured.
While Biknor and 'nDric continued in their argument ('nDric finally conceded that
they did need the horses, but now they arguing about how to do it), Kyle slowly crept
around and toward the inn.
“Okay, so it's decided,” 'nDric whispered with finality. “Kyle? Kyle!” He softly
called.
“He's already gone,” Biknor said hushing 'nDric.
“You sound like you're not surprised! If you knew he was going to go, why didn't
you stop him?” 'nDric asked angrily.
“I wasn't sure he would go, but he does want to prove to you that he is a valuable
member of this group,” Biknor said carefully. Seeing 'nDric's reaction, he continued:
“Didn't you see his reaction when you mother-henned him? To him, we've been taking
care of him like a child since the start of the trip. He wants to prove himself to us—to
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Kyle
you.” As Biknor finished by pointing at 'nDric's chest.
“Sure, he goes to get himself killed just to prove himself to me!”
“If necessary.” But before 'nDric could retort, “It appears to me that he knew the
dangers involved before he left. It may be that he has underestimated how severe they
were, but he still needs to prove himself. And, the best thing for us to do is to wait where
he can find us.”
'nDric was almost livid. If it weren't for Kyle's respect for Biknor, he would have
asked (or forced) the Woodsman to leave the group long ago. However, the words did
ring somewhat true in his ears he contemplated what was said but did not make it too
obvious. Biknor getting the upperhand in the group was the least of 'nDric desires.
'nDric looked into the trees and saw that they were good cover. He motioned up
to Biknor who, then, nodded. They climbed up, and both lodged themselves in the limbs,
making sure that they were well obscured from sight.
'nDric had vowed many years back not to get emotionally involved with those he
was protecting. He had learned over and over that each had to die in due time—long
before he will. So, the best way to cope was not to feel. But somehow he got far more
attached to Kyle and Grth than he should have. When he found that Kyle almost died
because of his own carelessness he could see that he was being far more protecting than
he should have been. The boy must become a man; to fend for himself and depend on
none. The wisdom of this little quest Kyle had chosen lacked wisdom, but pampering
does too. Two hours to sunlight, Kyle would have to hurry.
Kyle skirted the area around the inn. He found no sign of the acclaimed
henchmen that were supposed to be waiting for the others that had entered to take them.
Maybe, they had already gone in, Kyle thought. He was crouching near some bushes and
was about to move when he hear some low voices. He couldn't make out what they were
saying, but he gathered it was the henchmen looking for him. This sort of unnerved him
and thought of going back, but that would prove nothing to 'nDric and himself.
Noting the location of the voices were right in the way of the inn, he couldn't get
to the stalls without getting an unfriendly (or perhaps too friendly) encounter. He needed
some way of distracting them. Something that would not call too much attention to
himself as a magic wielder. He thrust his mind out to the henchmen, one at a time, and
looked at their thoughts. All of them were horribly vile. Kyle was in luck: he managed to
get a picture of where the stalls were by one henchman. It was past the inn, near one of
the sides of the building close by.
He could only sense three minds, but according to 'nDric and Biknor there were
six men. Kyle decided to worry about the other three when they appeared. The easiest
thing Kyle could figure doing was to pop over to the stable, now that he had a picture of
where it was. But, he had to do it softly so that no one could hear him pop out and then
in.
He concentrated on the location he wanted to go, and slowly thought himself
there. He noticed that once the process was started it went on by itself until completed.
But, it was controlled: no sound was made. Within moments, he smelled the sweetness
of straw and the stink of manure.
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Kyle
He was in the stable but at the stable doorway. He quickly moved into the stable,
just as a shout went up—he had been noticed! All discretion left him, and ran to the three
horses in the corner that looked like theirs. Wrong horses! He ran to the next set; these
were theirs, but they weren't saddled. Soon, there was a sound of running feet toward the
stables. Kyle hid himself behind one of the horses.
“You! Look over there!” Came one voice. “You! Look in there!”
They were going to search the whole stable! They were sure to find him. Now
was the time for the distraction. He concentrated and found the minds of the three men
he found before. He recalled the sound of a twig snapping underfoot and thrust that out
to them. Their minds snapped to attention. He, then, quickly sent the sound of someone
running through the bushes off to their right.
“Ho! You there! Stop!” Yelled one of the men outside.
It worked! The three henchmen within the stable stopped searching and ran
outside. Kyle didn't have much time. He touched the three saddles and “popped” them to
the base of the tree the group used to be at. As each one popped out, loud thuds hurt his
hands and ears. He climbed the short fence separating the stalls and got on 'nDric's horse.
He hoped the others would follow behind.
Kyle went for the reins and found none. In desperation, he looked about and
found them (for all three horses) on one post some twenty feet away. He guided the horse
over to the post and grabbed the reins and bits. Directing a horse without a bit was
difficult, and Kyle almost got his leg crushed as they approached the post.
He motioned to the other horses, clicking his tongue like 'nDric does and dug his
heels into the his horse's flank. The horse almost reared and galloped out the door. The
other horses did follow suit and ran behind. Kyle, until just within the last few days, had
never ridden a horse. Until now, he had never ridden bareback. He had a terrible time
guiding the running mount, much the less just staying on. He grabbed onto the mane for
dear (almost departed) life and tried to guide the beast to the tree.
He heard a cry from the henchmen as they heard the galloping steeds. An
explosion from the inn frightened the mount, but Kyle managed to stay on with herculean
effort. He was almost to the tree—nothing was going to stop him now.
'Kyle! Do not approach! Go northwest until your mount tires!'
That was Biknor! Kyle could tell by the feeling that went along with the message
that there was great danger. Obediently, he veered the mount to approximately northwest
and continued galloping. He almost made it! What went wrong?
As time passed, the horse slowed to a walk, but Kyle did not push it. When he
came to a stream, he stopped the horses and allowed them to drink. The horses were
sweaty and their mouths were frothing. All he could do now was wait. He heard no
sound of approach, so he tethered the horses near the water. He sat down and kicked
some rocks in frustration.
*****
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Kyle
“What is this!” Shrieked the horrible voice that woke Grth with a start.
He looked up and saw the wraith hanging in the morning shadows. It looked very
agitated and angry. It hung near Grth, glaring down.
“Thinking to escape me? Little fool!” Then, turning to the harpy: “And who are
you? And think you to take my revenge from me?”
The beautiful harpy cowed but said, “Helga the harpy am I, lord.”
“Oh! Well! Begone wench!”
“But, master! Need I my ugliness from the witch-boy.”
Grth's hopes for a companion from this insane land all withered to a dead,
unblossomed weed. She had only desires for gaining her ugliness back—nothing more.
She still considered him a “witch-boy” too. Grth's thoughts blackened.
“I said begone!”
With that, the harpy scurried off. In a way, Grth felt sorry for her: to her, ugliness
was life and this being the only thing of value to her. Yet, she lost even this. Still, Grth
considered her to be something ugly and repulsive.
“So you've found the way to get out. No doubt, you know now the logic of my
domain. Well, this is easily remedied!” The wraith moved his hands in a circular
motion; before Grth could do anything, wraith thrust his arms.
Grth remained there in a small sphere of shimmering lights, his body and mind
frozen like a statue. Time was irrelevant to the sphere, for it simply ceased to exist within.
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Kyle
Chapter 4
The Domsel sat at his desk nervously twisting the tassel on his gown. No news.
He must do something---Oh, he wished that he had not told his superiors! When they
find out that the boys were still lost, his head would be served as stew. He chewed on his
lip and stopped upon tasting blood. What is he to do! The tassel snapped off in his hand;
he let it drop to a small accumulated pile.
“Servant!” He shouted. From a distance he heard shuffling, hurried feet. He
must get to the bottom of this quickly. Again, he chewed his lip.
*****
Kyle awoke disquieted and disturbed. He felt like there was something very
wrong. He looked about and could not find the horses. Instead, he found broken pottery
scattered round about. He picked up one of the pieces: it had the face of Biknor. He
picked up another: it was 'nDric. Then, as he looked at them more carefully, they looked
nothing like his companions. Confused, he looked about. He was standing in a meadow
of tall grass. The three horses were grazing tranquilly, but there was something very
disquieting. As he watched the horses, gruff, callused hands grabbed him from behind.
Kyle awoke with a jolt—that was a dream! But, he still felt uneasy. Late morning
winds brushed passively through his hair. And, it carried the sweet scent of wildflowers.
He looked around convincing himself that he had just a dream—it was only a dream. A
stream trickled and bubbled nearby. He looked about for the horses could not find any
sign of them. He jumped up panicked to have lost them just after getting them through a
very arduous night of escapades (it was only a dream!).
He left the little clove of trees in which he had hid himself and the horses. He
followed the trees downstream and found the horses grazing in an adjacent pasture.
Perplexed, he went up to them and found that their bridles were removed. He
approached.
“Ho! Kyle!” Biknor yelled.
Relief swept over Kyle as he saw Biknor approaching. “Why did you move the
horses?”
“Certainly, they need water,” responded 'nDric coming from Kyle side, “but they
also need food—just like you!”
As they approached, Kyle noticed something rather strange: 'nDric was walking
with an unusual gate. Fear flashed through Kyle's mind, and he started to back away. His
heart was racing and he couldn't feel his fingers and hands.
His progress was stopped suddenly; incredibly strong hands grasped him when he
tried to run. He couldn't even see who was holding him. He looked back to where
Biknor and 'nDric were approaching. Instead of his companions, they were two men he
had never seen before. But yet he had! His dream! The correlation stunned Kyle.
Kyle thought of trying to pop out but realized that the man that was holding him
would end up going along for the ride: this was not what Kyle wanted in the slightest. So
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he would have to wait until he was free.
Frightened and desperate, he jerked his arms trying to free them from his
assailant. The two men finally were just two yards away from where Kyle was held. One
of them drew out a knife and put it under Kyle ear, the sharp edge a hot cold.
“So, my little friend, you have discovered us a little too late!” The man with the
knife spoke. “What say we go back to the inn and meet your....?” Then, almost an
afterthought, he said: “our two friends hiding in the tree are back at the inn too. If you do
not come with us, they will die!” The man smiled sadistically.
Kyle clearly despised these men. To threaten his own friends, allowed Kyle to
exchange his fear with anger and hatred. But, as long as these men had control of the rest
of the group, Kyle had to go along. Sullenly, he nodded and felt a jab of disappointment:
he had gotten so far. Why didn't his dream tell him of the outcome, instead of letting him
enter the danger unprepared?
In all, there were four men surrounding Kyle. The leader told one of the
henchmen to tie Kyle's hands behind his back. The henchman blanched at this order and
hesitated. The leader saw the reaction and yelled something unintelligible at the man.
The man's face clouded with anger and spat at the ground near the leader's feet. In a
flash, the leader flashed a stiletto through the air burying itself into the offender's throat.
As the dead man thrashed, the leader motioned to another to do the job. The new man the
leader selected looked at Kyle then at the now motionless figure on the ground. With a
decision, the man moved quickly with a length of rope.
Kyle looked back at the corpse on the ground. Nausea started to build. He had
never before seen a man die before his eyes. He let the man who was nervously tying his
hands to do his work. The man was so nervous that the job was sloppy and loose, which
was perfectly fine with Kyle. The large man that was holding Kyle lifted him onto the
saddle. As an after thought, Kyle searched the minds of the three men who held him
captive. Kyle recognized one of the henchmen's mind from those of the talking trio he
ran into near the inn. The others he did not recognized, but from the leader's mind he
knew that Biknor and 'nDric were safe. Kyle felt a something like a rock hit his jaw. As
he was blacking out, he heard the leader say something about trying his sorcery on him.
Kyle gained consciousness but felt letharic. The throb in his chin was distant and
bearly noticeable. He tried to shake himself of the lethargy but only succeeded in dryheaving on the horse. There was a horrible sweet taste in his mouth, and he felt gross.
He tried not to be too conspicuous, but once he tried to vomit the ruse was lost. There
was incomprehensible speech, a moist rag, and then dreams again.
*****
Kyle walked along a narrow path. On either side, the ground cascaded
bottomlessly. He was undisturbed by this revelation and kept walking. This is a dream,
he told himself. The path seemed unending: without sight of time or distance of space.
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Kyle
Yet, Kyle could see a man-figure approaching him. Kyle stopped. The man stopped.
Kyle regarded the man; the man regarded Kyle.
“Who are you?” the man and Kyle asked, their voices echoing off invisible walls.
Once again, they regarded each other.
Kyle started to walk forward, and so did the man. The path was too narrow to
pass, but Kyle did not know what to do; so he continued. Similar hesitancy exhibited in
the stranger, yet he continued.
As they approached each other, Kyle could see that the man had a cowl covering
his face. Then Kyle remembered: his vision, Biknor, and the cowled man. But, Kyle
could not believed that the obtrusive person who probed him and, then, entered his
dreams was the same person who was his riding companion. Fear stuck in his mind, but
curiosity had its way: he yet continued.
Finally, they approached and were facing each other. The stranger was robed and
featureless. They both were the same height and had the same build. Kyle waited for the
other to speak, but he said nothing, waiting.
“Who are you?” they both asked each other again.
Finally, the stranger lifted his hand, extending it. The hand was weathered but
strong, hesitant but offered. Until this point, everything Kyle had done the stranger had
mirrored. Kyle did not know what to do, moments passing like expectant hours.
Kyle would not hold himself back any longer and asked: “Are you the same one
that was in my dream before?”
The stranger shook his head in negation.
“Then who was he?”
There was no response. The man still stood with his arm tirelessly extended.
There was trust. Should I trust him? Kyle thought carefully.
A feeling came over Kyle. It was like a warm breeze on a cool day, making Kyle
feel good and at ease. Slowly, Kyle extended his hand and touched the extended hand.
As they touched the scene around them faded and revealed a small grove of trees that
extended endlessly into a white, featureless sky.
“I am Nelen Jex,” said the man. “I have been expecting you.”
*****
“If you do not return Kyle unharmed, you will have much to pay,” 'nDric glared
at their captors. He sat tied to Biknor at the base of the very same tree they were hiding in
when Kyle left. They had kept Biknor unconscious or at least close to it to prevent them
from escaping. The ropes were very well tied but did not cut into their wrists.
“Oh, don't you worry about him,” one of the two captors assured him off-handedly
and went back to picking his teeth clean with a knife of the food they had just eaten.
'nDric looked at the man who answered him. In any other instance, you would
expect such a character to be drunk to unconsciousness, lying in the gutter. He hair was,
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Kyle
to say the least, unkempt. And, judging from the scars, the crooked nose, and the lacking
teeth, it appeared that someone (perhaps more than one occasion) offered and, then,
supplied ample facial rearrangements.
'nDric thought back to how they were captured. When they heard a yell raised,
they knew that Kyle had been seen. Within moments, another cry was raised by the other
group. Biknor and 'nDric saw and heard very little of what was causing the commotion,
until they heard three loud slaps below the base of the tree. They looked down and saw,
to their dismay, three saddles sitting on the ground.
They then understood that Kyle was somewhat out of danger, but now, they were
in danger of being noticed. While he, 'nDric, climbed down the tree and tried to hide the
saddles, Biknor made a distraction by causing an explosion in the inn. 'nDric did not
know what he did to cause the explosion, but the inn didn't look too good afterward.
He had managed to hide the saddles, but in the process, one of the searching
henchmen must have seen him. All he could remember was feeling a small dart hit his
shoulder, falling, and losing consciousness. When he awoke, Biknor was still
unconscious and tied to his back.
It was well into the afternoon when the other henchmen with their new captive
arrived. 'nDric's expression darkened when he saw Kyle's slumped-over figure with dried
blood trailing from his lips.
Noticing the dwarf's gaze, the leader said: “You really expect me to allow a
magic-wielder remain awake? As you can see,” pointing at Biknor, “I know how to
handle these things.”
“Where are you going to take us?” 'nDric trying to contain his anger.
“At the moment, 'south' will only be the answer. We don't want any of the
neighboring kingdoms to know our destination. It would make them...restless.”
'nDric considered that answer but said nothing. Then, a thought came to him: “If
we are going to travel far and assuming you want us alive, how are going to feed them
being unconscious?”
“You honestly assume too much,” was the only answer.
In time, the answer was manifested: the captors relaxed the amount of the drug so
that Biknor and Kyle were groggy but were able to eat. As the leader had said, they
traveled due south. For a while, it looked as if they were going right back to the small
village from where they originated, but instead, they went around it and continued toward
the Sommers Hills.
They had untied the captives, being pretty sure that they would not try to escape.
Although the henchmen did have anything but knives and stilettos back at the inn, their
horses did have arrows, a couple bows, and swords. They also had plenty of food, so the
group never wanted.
The way was tedious and without event. They had to avoid paths and roads for
fear of being known or causing an uproar. In due point, they reached the hills. This time,
they had to find a path, because the hills were known to be dangerous. They had to risk
being seen as a large group.
Being seen in a large group usually meant a few things: a pilgrimage for which the
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group is usually left alone or plundered, an embassy for which the group was plundered,
or a campaign for which the group was killed and plundered. Either way, the local
kingdoms would get notified, and the benefactors would be unduly rewarded for
information.
The “hills” were a complete misnomer. They bordered the Pinewood Mountains
and were just as treacherous. Whoever had named the hills must have had no idea what
the “hills” looked like: it must have been some king.
They camped at the base of the range and planned for entrance early in the
morning. Kyle and Biknor still were semi-aware of the surroundings because of the drug
that was given to them. At first, the drug was in the form of a needle prick. Later,
another drug in the form of an ointment was simply spread on the back of their hands.
“We want to cross these mountains,” the leader began, “and reach the coast on the
other side. Since we will be going high enough, everyone will be allotted a cloak and a
woolen blanket. We do not want to remain in the range for more than daylight, because
the temperatures will fall down to dead-level. Finally, we have another problem. The
two magic-wielders must be brought to full consciousness.” The hirelings looked up
warily. The leader lifted his hand to quell any protest. “The whole reason we have come
this far is for the boy's power. The drug that we are giving them lowers their metabolism:
they will not withstand the temperatures of the ranges. There are also dangers in the
mountains; we will need all the help we can get. He will be of no use to our employers
dead.
“You are aware that we will try to escape,” 'nDric said plainly.
The leader regarded the dwarf. “Yes, but let me tell you this: I know some of the
thoughts of people, and I also have a deadly aim. You can ask the boy. If I even sense
treachery, I will not hesitate to kill all of you. The boy isn't the only one with the gift.”
“So why don't they take you?”
“The boy has more power than ever been seen before. Still, he is expendable:
there’s always his brother.”
So, now it was left up to 'nDric to keep Biknor and Kyle under control. Yet, he
felt there could be a way for them to escape unscathed. In the morning, for the first time
in almost ten days, Kyle and Biknor were wide awake and aware.
They looked about and noticed that 'nDric was watching them. 'nDric held up his
hand slightly, but the guard saw the two arouse and stepped behind Kyle placing a blade
under his throat. In a moment, the leader approached and explained the situation to Kyle
and Biknor. 'nDric noticed that he left out certain pieces of information and that nobody
called him over! 'nDric now realized that the leader was perhaps as formidable as he
claimed.
As they broke camp, 'nDric explained his feelings in the matter quietly to Kyle
and Biknor. “I think that maybe we could find out what they want,” he summed up.
“After all, if there is any danger, both of you can get us out of here at any time.” Biknor
agreed; however, Kyle's only response was silent shock.
As they ascended, the temperature gradually fell making them feel the chill. They
distributed the coats and blankets. Within time, the horses started to shiver. So, they
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Kyle
stepped up the pace to a canter. The scenery was, by that point blanketed with crusty
snow. And everyone was blowing white mist out their nostrils—especially, the horses.
Time passed without incident, and they reached the summit by early afternoon.
Kyle looked up to the sky. It was a cold, cloudless, crisp blue. The snow was too
bright to look at, so he completely hid himself in the cloak. Time and again he reflected
the vision he saw just returning to consciousness. There he was looking at an image of
his grandfather. They did not have much time to talk, for in due time, Kyle awoke. He
wondered what his mother was like. He could not even remember her; all he could
remember was his father—a memory so faded now that it seemed like a dream. Dreams!
All he gets is these useless dreams! Kyle scowled to himself.
Kyle was jarred from his thoughts by a yell from behind. Instinctively, he
uncovered his head to the cold and looked in the direction from which the cry came.
Behind him he saw a line of travelers cloaked in wool blankets; behind them, a huge
beast with white hair, claws and teeth lunging at the man in the rear. The man parried but
showed some hesitation. A roar from the beast called in two more giants.
The creatures had black noses and shaggy, white hair. The claws were at least the
length of a man's hand. The skeletal build was similar to a bear, but the muzzle was flush
with the skull. The overall appearance was a horrible, man-bear-beast. The appearance
certainly worked on Kyle—he was completely petrified with fear and amazement (until,
of course, one of the new comers came to welcome him).
It was at that point that Kyle (and his horse) decided to take their leave. First, it
was the mount's idea: it reared and galloped off. Then, it was Kyle's idea: he fell off and
plowed into a snow drift. The fall did little immediate harm, for Kyle landed on soft
powder.
While Kyle was braving the snow drift, the others were off their mounts and
attacking the three creatures. The man holding the rear was doubled over holding his
stomach with blood-stained hands. The group had divided itself into three groups of two,
each group attacking one creature. Within minutes, it was all over with various minor
wounds and one serious.
Biknor immediately took to the serious wounds of the rear guard. The others
tended each other. Kyle sat up and brushed himself. Once again, he felt like a burden to
the group. His brooding was interrupted again by a howl of rage. He turned and saw
another beast bearing down on him.
For once, Kyle was not afraid. His self-recrimination was forgotten as he faced
the oncoming snow-creature. The others saw what was happening and yelled
incomprehensible things at Kyle. Kyle stretched out his arm, pointing, and said “burn.”
Kyle pushed too hard: the bear-creature exploded, throwing burning flesh in all
directions. The creature was far enough away that the flying fireballs did not touch them.
Kyle, on the other hand, caught some on his cloak. Quickly, he dropped into the snow
and dowsed the fires.
Everyone was awestruck. As Kyle walked back, the henchmen backed away;
even the leader was apprehensive. Biknor was the only one that did not seem surprised.
He motioned Kyle over while the others watched intently. Kyle knelt next to Biknor who
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Kyle
was still tending the now dying man.
“I am going to have to teach you some things if you are going to insist on being a
fool,” was Biknor's preamble. Kyle looked shocked then realized that he unnecessarily
put his life on the line. “This man is dying. He is beyond what I can do. Do you
remember what I taught you concerning healing?”
Kyle nodded.
“Good. Now let me teach you something else: magic, as how some call it, can be
'programmed' to a specific pattern to follow until its end. This means that you can build
the image of what the magic is supposed to do, execute it, and it will continue the way
you formulated it.”
Kyle concentrated on this concept. Some of the words were foreign to him, but he
did understand the idea: it did happen to him back at the inn. Kyle nodded again that he
understood.
“I want you to 'look' into this man and find the damage. Then, 'look' into my body
for a general pattern. Form this pattern in your mind and start the process.”
Kyle had a hard time understanding all that he needed to do but started probing
the unconscious body. He saw the damage was extensive. Using the model of Biknor's
torso, Kyle rebuilt the man's torn sections. Some things were missing, so Kyle just
formed them in his mind. When the reconstruction was done, Kyle forced his mind back
into the body and started the process of rebuilding.
Kyle felt with his mind that the reconstruction, once started, took its own course.
He opened his eyes to watch. The clothing was torn away from the torso, and Kyle could
see the damage that his mind found. He watched, with fascination, as the flesh rebuilt
itself. In the end, no scar remained.
“Not bad for a first try,” Biknor praised Kyle carefully. “I'll also have to teach
you about the human anatomy, though.” He pointed to the lower center where the navel
was supposed to be. “A minor oversight. It will be amusing to see the man's reaction to
its absence!”
Kyle felt a certain elation with the praise and smiled at the mental image. But, he
noted the concern Biknor had: he had a lot to learn. Within minutes, Kyle's thoughts
were cloudy. The exertion this day was a bit much. He felt so drained!
“You will find that, after a lot of practice, you will not get so tired. You will also
find out how to control it.” Biknor said, seeing Kyle's fatigue. “You really do not have to
put so much effort into it.”
'nDric and one of the henchmen called the horses back. Luck was still with them:
none of the horses were lost or hurt. The leader, who formally identified himself as
Jornon, inspected Kyle's work on the man. A smirk crept into his expression and said:
“He'll certainly get some jeers about not being born of woman! Due justice! He's a
woman-hater, anyway!”
They mounted and were on there way. They had to hurry to make it across by
nightfall. The attitude of the henchmen was more cautious than before around Kyle.
Even Jornon treated the boy with far more respect. Kyle picked up on subtleties, like
calling him by his given name instead of “the boy.”
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Kyle
** * * *
“So, my little handsome one, in a bit of trouble thou art!” Helga paced around
Grth's frozen, sitting figure. Her voice filled with foreboding unlike any of her kind. “In
the spite of an holy agreement, communed with a wraith thou hast! How pretty man?
Why hast thou known such a ghastly apparition? Like predicament as this, hast thou
placed thyself! Need thee Ah do, so help thee I shall. Knowst thou that accept me not
my kindred? Until returned is my desired ugliness, companion and help shall I be.”
Grth's helpless form was unaware of the harpy's presence. There he sat looking up
at a no-longer present wraith with a pitiful expression on his face. The wraith had
suspended him there about a week before.
“Strange! Merely a week have Ah been away, come Ah to thee to help. Oh, did
Ah hate thee!” She paced around the figure as if to reconcile a problem she had. “Mark
me, not for my sister did Ah hate thee. No, 'tis for my appearance and my appetite.
Knowest thou that even the old delicacies my olfactory detests? And, lowliest of all, even
repulsive to me are the ugly features of my dear cousins. More and more through the eyes
of thy kind am Ah seeing. So alone do Ah feel.” She uncoiled a length of glistening
rope. “Free thee shall Ah do.” She stopped and looked looked at Grth expectantly. She
turned and walked away.
She walked through the forests for the rest of the day. As she got close to her
destination, the odor of the cave rang sharply in her nose. She approached the cave and
called out faking the voice of a harpy: “old witch-crone!” She waited. No answer.
Again she called.
Finally, there came a rumbling like the cave was about to collapse. Helga stood
firm and called again. In the deep recesses, a sound of an angry grisly growled. Not
changed the welcome the witch-crone has, she thought to herself, calling again.
Within a few moments, a shuffling sound approached the cave entrance. The
figure that appeared was the most repulsive, Helga has ever seen. (This was a lie, the
witch-crone and she were good friends for many years.) A harpy, by definition, is ugly:
calling someone a harpy is the same as calling them ugly and visa versa. But, an ugly old
harpy-crone was quite a repulsive sight. Fortunately for Helga, the old crone couldn't
return the gesture: the crone was blind.
“Who seeks me?” The old, wrinkled, ugly witch-crone screeched.
“Forget me so soon?” Helga managed a similar shriek.
“Helga? Wench! Why bother me?”
“On my sister a stasis the wraith placed.”
“Oh, for that bothered me thou hast! Simple it is! Take this and begone!” The
crone creaked, throwing a silver rope out at Helga.
“Crone! What do Ah with this?” Helga caught the rope and looked at it.
“Idiot! Loop the stasis and pull it off! Stupid wench!” She yelled back,
mumbling loudly the latter.
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Kyle
Very close we've always been, Helga thought to herself inspecting the rope
carefully. She turned and walked back to where Grth was. It was morning again when
she returned and saw the undisturbed glistening sphere. Who would disturb it? The
sphere was obviously the handiwork of the wraith, and no one wanted to get on the bad
side of the wraith.
She made a loop and began to swing the loop overhead. She practiced on a rock,
looping the rock and drawing back again and again. Finally, when she felt confident, she
swung the rope over her head and threw it over the shining sphere. The loop settled on
the transparent globe. It crackled angrily at the contact. Carefully, Helga pulled the rope.
The rope slid slickly over the top and off the sphere.
Helga suppressed a fit.
She stopped and considered what she had been taught in the past about these
spheres: anything contacting the globe will force the globe to extend just enough to
incorporate the object, freezing the object in the same stasis. Then resistant this rope
must be, she thought.
The solution to the problem came suddenly and unexpectedly. All these years,
Helga had been used to having a dull, slow wit. The answer drew a grin across Helga's
lips. She reached down to the loop; lifting it, she made it a little smaller than the
diameter of the globe. She walked over to the globe, picked up a large rock, and draped
the rope over the globe. Still holding the rope with one hand, she carefully lifted the rock
and dropped it on the other side of the sphere—just above the rope.
The rock halted as it contacted the surface. The glistening field opened and
engulfed the rock. The bulge in the surface held the rope at that point, just as Helga had
hoped. She let go of the rope and gathered two more stones. She returned, straightened
the rope, and dropped the two stones opposite each other. She repeated this process until
there was a ring of stones securing the rope in place.
She stood back and checked everything. Satisfied, Helga picked up the rope end
and pulled as hard as she could. All the rocks popped off, releasing the rope from the
sphere and flinging Helga to the forest floor with a “thump.”
She sat up and rubbed her rear while she thought. She brightened and said one
word: “weight!” With much pain, she lifted herself up and walked around the sphere
staring at Grth. Minutes later, she had rebuilt the ring of rocks to hold the rope in place.
Then she added many more rocks, layering them one on top of another, until she was
certain that the total weight of the rocks was about three times the weight of Grth. The
mound was ridiculously large! The mound of rocks came to a rough point, looking like a
cone-hat of stone.
Excitedly, she grabbed the end of the rope and hauled. From behind her, she
heard a familiar voice screeching. The old witch-crone!
“Wench! Where art thou? Need the rope Ah do! Wench!”
Helga was already committed: she couldn't say anything. She felt a slight giving
in the rope. With an extra yank, there was a load pop. Helga again fell flat to the ground.
Above her flew this rock-cone-topped missle—straight for the screeching crone.
Suddenly the crone was no longer screeching.
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Kyle
“No! Don't!” Yelled Grth, as he rapped his arms around his head. There was a
pause, then, “Hey! Where is everyone?”
Helga got up a lot more painfully this time, but for some reason, the sound of
Grth's voice assuaged it. She walked stiffly over to him and looked down to meet his
gaze.
“Oh, no! Not you! I thought you only wanted to get away from me. If you want
your stupid ugliness, I'll give it back to you!” Grth was livid. The only reason she was
still with him was for her wanted ugliness. Fine. Grth was more than willing to furnish
her with that.
She looked away from him. Grth had been able to decipher most of the harpy's
moods before, but this one was totally alien to him. He sat there dumbfounded, mouth
gaped open. She reached down. He watched her hand as it came down but did nothing.
When she shut his mouth, he only gaped further. She turned and started to walk away.
Grth jumped up and ran up to her. It was obvious she was walking stiffly, but he
made no comment about it. He soon saw her destination. There was a cone of stones
pointing at the belly of the ugliest harpy he had ever seen. Surrounding both objects was
a glimmering, shining sphere. The sphere reached to about ten feet high and round. On
the ground, was a silver rope. The harpy reached down and picked it up and turned to
face Grth.
“Helga my name is. To travel with thee I would like.”
** * * *
The group traveled quickly as they trotted their mounts across the barely-used,
snow covered road. It took some time for them to calm the horses after the encounter.
They didn't have the time to wait, so they mounted scared horses (a feat in itself) and tried
to calm the horses while they rode (an accomplishment deserving of an honor).
They were well beyond the summit when they heard the bay of wolves. All their
work to calm the steeds simple dwindled away like a splinter in hot furnace. However,
Kyle was to only one who had difficulty maintaining control. As each bay was sounded,
his horse threatened to bolt. At first, Kyle froze as the horse reared, threatening to gallop
away. But after repeated attempts, the steed's nervous behavior only angered Kyle.
“Stop that!” Kyle yelled at the horse, slapping the rear of the head.
The horse lowered its ears, turned its head so that one eye could see the rider, and
glared. Kyle was not in the least intimidated. He dug his heals into its flank and pulled
the reins. The result was predictable; Kyle flew off the saddle and landed by the roadside.
The group, noticing the interaction, halted and some of the henchmen suppressed
their mirth. But 'nDric could not; this cascaded down to include the somber leader,
Jornon. The laughter did nothing to improve Kyle's mood. He sat there, crossed his
arms, and fumed. The horse reached over and tried to nuzzle him. Kyle found very
difficult to stay angry and be nuzzled at the same. The hairy nose was far too apologetic.
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Kyle
“The horse is trying to make up,” 'nDric said, wiping the mirthful tears from his
eyes. “The least you could do is accept!”
Kyle's anger dissipated, and he remounted. As other noises introduced themselves
later, the horse was not as apt to react negatively. However, Kyle did notice that it was
very tense. Not really wanting to be thrown again, he soothed the animal by talking softly
to it.
They finally reached the end of the snow-patched road. It wasn't sudden, but the
quantity of snow waned until none could be seen. They were already feeling the effects
of the night-freeze they were trying to avoid. The setting sun showed brightly on the
horizon. The sounds of nocturnal animals soon filled the air.
They set up off the road in a small open area surrounded by trees and brush. Kyle
lay on the ground looking up into the sky wondering if he was ever going to see his
brother again. Tears began to well up, but he suppressed them by changing his chain of
thought. Instead, he thought about where they were going and the men surrounding,
guarding, and kidnapping him.
All of his life, Kyle had lived in Sommerston with the security of the mountains to
the south and the curiosity of the plains to the north. But now, as he is discovering his
powers, men have chased him, taken his brother, and now kidnapped him all because of
his powers. Were his powers the reason Grth is in the most naturally dangerous place—
the Valley of Madness? Was it his fault that they are now traveling far away from the
sacred security of Sommerston? Was it his fault the two dearest friends, 'nDric and
Biknor, have suffered so much? Was it his fault? The realization of the consequences of
his “gift” cut through Kyle’s heart and soul. This time he could not hold back the tears,
and he wept silently and bitterly.
“You know, you're not all that bad,” said the voice next to him. Kyle jerked up,
exposing his tear-streaked face to the speaker. The face sitting next to him was Jornon's.
He sat there looking ahead into the trees. Kyle said nothing, but turned away.
“I've hunted down many with the Gift before, and some of them have given quite
a chase and others have simply given up.” He continued pretending not to notice Kyle's
reaction. “But, you have been the youngest and the most determined I have seen yet. It
almost was a disapointment to capture you finally. You were quite a challenge.”
Why is he telling me this? Kyle asked himself. Doesn't he realize that I didn't
even want to get “captured”?
“You don't realize how different you really are, do you?” He said as if hearing the
unasked questions. “You have something that all of the others did not have. After all of
the others had been captured, they either gave in or continually fought against us. I
resorted many times to drugging most of them. You, however, have not fought against
us. You have honestly tried to contribute. I sensed that in you; that is why I stopped
giving you the drug. Oh, yes, there are other ways to incapacitate a Gifted, but figured
you didn't need any of that.”
What an interesting way to praise someone: to tell them that they helped an
enemy! Kyle thought bitterly. What does he want me to do? Jump up and down for this
praise? If he does, he doesn't understand me at all!
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Kyle
“On the contrary, I do understand you!”
Kyle jerked his head to face the kidnapper—he had read his thoughts! Many
things started to click into place: when he was knocked on the head, why he stopped
giving them the drug, and why 'nDric had not tried to organize an escape. He would
know beforehand all the thoughts of the ones involved! What a formidable enemy this
was!
“I am just doing my job. I don't really care if you consider me your enemy, but I
have and will continue to protect you.”
“Where are we going?” Kyle asked for the first time.
“I can't tell you. It would endanger our quest. By the way, I wouldn't worry if it's
anyone's fault that you're here. The fact is that you are here, and there is always danger so
that any introspection would be hazardous to one's health.” He said as he got up. “Don't
worry about your brother, we'll have him too pretty soon.” And, he walked away.
Kyle sat there thinking. Contrary to 'nDric's belief, there appears to be no way of
escaping. Kyle laid back and let his fate be decided by dreams. Quickly, he was asleep
with random visions of greedy men, long and winding roads, connected buildings, and
colorfully dressed women.
Kyle awoke to someone shaking him. He opened his eyes and looked into a dark,
hooded face against a black, starry sky. He jumped slightly, not knowing who or what it
was. It then motioned him to follow. Kyle, not knowing what to do, just laid there
staring. Again, the creature motioned him to follow but more emphatically.
Kyle got up and walked carefully and quietly after the figure. He walked by
'nDric and kicked him imperceptibly. 'nDric did not move. Worried now, Kyle had to
follow without any help. He was now committed. As he followed, Kyle's worry
increased exponentially. The figure lead him some distance before stopping. The figure
turned and faced Kyle, and Kyle stopped to regard his porter.
“I am Heicos, the Guardian. I perceive that thou are being lead against thy will.
Is this true?”
Kyle had learned a relatively long time ago that one could implicitly trust or
distrust a person who gives his name and his title. Kyle figured it would be the better part
of valor to lie this time. “Yes.” Wait a minute! Kyle thought. I meant to say “no.” Kyle
stood there confused.
“I had suspected so. Are there any others like thee?”
“Yes.”
“And who are they?”
“Hypn'cDric and Biknor.” Kyle was totally confused. The more he tried to hide
information; the more freely the information came.
“The Old Dwarf and the Woodsman?” The Heicos asked surprised.
“Yes. Do you know them?” Kyle managed a question.
The figure seemed more surprised at the question. “Who art thou?”
“Kyle, grandson of Nelen Jex.” This whole interaction was quite jarring for Kyle.
He had never addressed himself as the son or grandson of anyone, but this man managed
to force it out of him. That's it! Kyle thought. The Guardian has the power to know truth
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Kyle
of anything he wants. Then, Kyle realized what a terrible power it was.
The figure seemed impressed. “Where are they taking thee?”
“I don't know. Do you know?”
“Nay, but I can find out if thou dost desire it.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Wait thou here.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get thee the answer.”
Kyle had second thoughts. Suppose they saw the Guardian, found that he himself
is not there, they would hurt 'nDric and Biknor. “Uh, never mind. I'll find out sooner or
later.”
“As thou dost wish. Dost thou desire to flee?”
“No, I think I will be alright. Where do you know 'nDric and Biknor from?”
“Many centuries back.”
“Many centuries? How can a man live that long?”
“I am sure that the Old Dwarf or the Woodsman told thee about the Chosen, have
they not? Good. The Chosen were each given a special skill. Only one was given all of
the powers—your grandfather, Nelen Jex. This special skill also meant that they did not
age. This skill could be given up by having offspring. The firstborn would get all the
parent's power. Therefore, the parent would, from that point on, age like a normal man.
The Old Dwarf and Biknor apparently have chosen not have offspring. When thou
becomest twenty and one, thou shalt cease to age—if thou hadst not known a woman
before then.”
“But I do know some women!” Kyle protested.
“Let me rephrase: if thou hast not had offspring by the age of twenty and one, thou
shalt cease to age. Anytime after that point if thou hast offspring, thou shalt begin to age
again.” He explained carefully. “One warning I leave thee: if thou intends to have
offspring, be thou sure it is by thine own choice and not by subversion! Now go!”
Kyle wanted to asked more, but thought better of it. He retraced his footsteps
back to the camp. All was quiet. He lay down again and closed his eyes.
“It's a good thing you did not try to escape with him, I would have killed your
companions, Kyle.” Kyle bolted up to face the leader's face. He was squatting
surrounded by shrubs facing him.
At first, Kyle felt ashamed, then he felt indignant anger build. He didn't say
anything—he didn't have to.
“Before you make any rash comment, I would recommend you look over at your
companions, boy.”
Slowly taking his eyes from Jornon's shadow, he looked where 'nDric and Biknor
slept. Two henchmen were standing behind the sitting up and awake shadows of his
companions, who were facing him.
He turned back to his captor, only to see an arm leading up to a blade under his
own throat. Kyle was not surprised. The leader had shown once before how silently he
could move. Kyle looked deeply into the leader's cold eyes. What he saw was cold,
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Kyle
cruel, and cynical. Jornon saw his insight and smiled matching the attributes Kyle had
seen.
“Do you want to kill me?” Kyle braved the question.
“Only if it is necessary,” he responded matter-of-factly.
“What have I done to deserve it? I could have escaped, but I came back.”
“You came back because of your friends,” he bantered.
“You are wrong. I had concern for them. But I knew that the Guardian had the
ability to take us away from you. But, I chose to stay.”
Jornon's smile became far more pleasant. He lowered the knife and sat down by
Kyle. Kyle's ire had not waned completely, so he felt very uncomfortable. The very
thought that a person who is willing to kill him and/or his friends was sitting next to him
and probably will try to make conversation did exactly make him feel secure.
“I'm interested,” he started the fated conversation. “Why did you choose to stay?”
I don't really feel like talking to him, Kyle thought. “Curiosity, I guess.” There
were other reasons, but Kyle consciously tried not to think of them.
“There must be more to it than that,” he said cheerfully. “With the prospect of
death looming over your head, there must be something worth the challenge or more.
What do you have on your mind?”
Kyle could see that this swindler was only interested in money, but to play his
own game would mean lying. The leader would know that he was lying, so the truth:
“Ah, look...Jornon, I am a little tired. Can we talk about this in the morning.” By, then
the others were already asleep, so logic prevailed: Jornon agreed.
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Kyle
Chapter 5
“That was the only smart thing he did, sending Jornon.” The Higher Domsel said
accepting some steaming liquid in his cup. “Do you think he’s up for lunch, yet?” They
both laughed coarsely. Continuing, he said: “I understand that Jornon has things well in
hand, and we should shortly see the boy named ‘Kyle’ fairly soon!” He shooed the
attendant away.
“My lord, what about the twin?” Said the man with a long, black robe and beard.
Unlike the Domsel, he wore very plain robes and no tassels. His beard was long and eyes
were sunken. When he spoke it was slightly fainter than the creak of a door with his t’s
with more of an scht.
“We’ll have him soon enough! Don’t worry,” he said weakly.
“Good. I would not want him to miss out on his training.” He concluded barely
moving in his cloke.
*****
Since volunteering her assistance, Grth mulled over the concept of being with a
harpy. Simply, he was amazed and shocked. At first, she had gone with Grth to retain
her original state. Now it appears that she actually wants her present appearance. This
complete flip in attitude did nothing to make Grth feel more comfortable. What was
worse was Helga seemed to trust and depend on him now. He never knew that harpies
could ever do that. Yet she seemed perfectly content to accompany him.
The ugly, old hag-harpy they left behind frozen in time was the only way Helga
convinced him that he actually was suspended for about a week in time. That too was
another concept Grth had trouble understanding. How can one place stop in time? Now
matter how hard he tried to disregard it or even refute it he could not deny the fact that the
old harpy was suspended. Helga had mentioned very briefly that the old harpy and she
were very good friends some time in the past. Why they just left her in that awful state
Grth did not know. Overall, Grth was at present very confused.
“Leave we must. And now it must be!” She urged the totally befuddled boy.
Grth's response was a glazed glance and a slow, ponderous nod. Why would she
want to remain with him? Although he wasn't sure he could change her back, he could
have tried. Did the change also include a change in attitude?
It was late afternoon and approaching evening when they reached the summit of
the first mountain in the range they had to cross. She had to lead him still, because of the
unusual properties the land held. As he looked outward, he saw the river cutting a spiral
out of a huge basin. The very center of the basin looked as if it was higher in altitude
than they were. Grth knew that this could not be, because they had climbed the mountain
they were now on. The summits of the range on the other side of the basin were barely
visible.
He looked up and saw the clouds bend down toward the opposite horizon.
Generally, their movements followed the same pattern as did the river: endlessly
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Kyle
spiralling outward. Yet, it did not seem to have a starting point.
The land seemed so peaceful, but Grth knew that this was only an illusion or
facade to reality. He tried not to consider the things that could possibly go wrong. Then
he realized that he was the only one of the two that could provide the defense. The
realization came suddenly and unwelcome. Until they could rejoin Kyle and 'nDric, they
were on their own with the only defense being Grth's unpredictable magic. The thought
was sobering in the midst of such beautifully confused landscape.
He looked within himself and saw the wall still there. How was he supposed to
defend themselves with something that he himself had a hard time understanding and
accepting. Certainly he had used it quite well—back when he was a “little morsel,” but
that was borne of need.
Grth finally came out of his reverie of thought and noticed that Helga was
watching him. Her attachment to him still left him bewildered. He also noticed the
reason they stopped: they both needed to eat. That was another problem: he was going to
have to provide for both of them, because she was unable to provide for herself with her
new tastes. Even though she had become human more than a week ago, she still had not
come to know what is edible and what isn't. How did she manage during the week he
was in the sphere? Another complication to confuse himself.
Grth looked about for something to sate their hunger. He only wanted to use his
magic when absolutely necessary. 'nDric had tried to teach him the various flora that
could be eaten or used for medication. But, Grth didn't listen to most of it. Kyle was
more than happy to learn, and there was the irony: Kyle was carrying food yet not needing
to, and Grth didn't even have a knife. Wait a minute! Grth thought. He looked at his
side and saw the wicked blade still there.
Finally, things didn't look all that grim. He took out the knife, grabbed a sapling,
and cut it off at the base. He whittled it to a point and then looked around for something
appropriate to hunt.
“Why dost thou not use thy magic?” Helga asked studying his progress (or lack of
progress).
“I still have a hard time controlling it. I'd rather not use it,” Grth said still hunting.
“How wilt thou control it if usest it thou not?”
Her logic was compelling. Realizing that at their altitude they were surrounded by
nothing but scrub and rocks, he finally gave up and tried to conjure some fruit. This time
he carefully designed the fruit to have taste and palatable texture. The next thing he had
to do was to confront the wall again. There were so many steps he had to take, he was
beginning to wonder if weren't easier to go to the base of the mountain again and gather
some food.
There he stood—in front of the wall. The imposing blackness still as unyielding
as ever. He reached up and touched the wall. In the past, it was cold and hard, but this
time it was soft yet but pliable. He wanted to explore it further, but he was getting
ravenous. He told himself: I must accept it. And, he passed through.
When he openned his eyes, there was a small pile of fruit on the ground.
Unfortunately, he must have conjured them in the air, for some had spattered
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Kyle
ungracefully on the ground. The rest were just bruised. There was a snicker; he looked
over to Helga who was carefully trying not to burst. Her mirth was so compelling Grth
smiled and started to laugh also.
“What made you decide to come with me?” Grth asked after sating his hunger.
Helga became a little embarrassed and she turned away. Grth got the hint that she
did not want to talk about whatever it was. So, he didn't press the point. Instead, he
concerned himself with more important things.
“Are there any dangers in this area?” Grth tried again.
“Aye, dangers everywhere there be! In the mountains, especially!”
“Then why are we going this way?”
“The only exit out of the vale it is.”
“What kind of dangers are there?”
“My kind mostly. Goblins and trolls there be also.”
Looking around, he asked: “when are they likely to appear?”
“Night creatures goblins and trolls be, yet day-travelers be my kind.”
“So we're not exactly safe out here in the open.”
“Nay, if a fire build we, will let us be the night-creatures.”
“But, won't the other dangerous animals see the fire?”
Helga regarded him and his naiveté. Grth, seeing the gaze, realized that he asked
a stupid question and he turned his head chagrined.
“Yea, the fire other forest animals will see, but of these we be not afraid. Afraid
of fire and light are the trolls and goblins. Yea, the fire my kind will not see 'til dawn.”
Grth certainly had a lot to learn when it came to living in the forest without
protection. When he was a prisoner of Kalesi, he at least had some of his protection.
How Helga and her sister managed to get passed him unawares was totally beyond him.
Now, he at least realizes the dangers that exist in this area. Not only was he
unaccustomed to the land, but also he had no idea how the dangers would manifest
themselves.
That was another problem: what are they going to do if the wraith came for him.
And where has it been lately? Where are Kyle and 'nDric? They should be here by now.
Grth was tempted to contact Kyle, but something restrained him—his new traveling
companion, Biknor, had said something about calling every magic-wielder. So, Grth
thought better of it.
Helga helped in making a small fire. It seemed strange to have a fire when it was
in the middle of summer, but Grth was too tired to comment. Finally, it was getting late,
so Grth found a comfortable rock and laid down. He felt some movement behind
himself. He turned to see Helga settling down next him. Grth just shrugged, turned back,
and pondered the sharp orange flames and dancing sparks. Silently he hoped to be
beyond the valley soon.
*****
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Kyle
Having a person who is perfectly apt in knowing what one's thinking, made Kyle
somewhat nervous. He had slept well, and from what it appeared, everyone else had had
the same experience. Glancing over to 'nDric and Biknor, Kyle was reminded of the
night before and the dream with Nelen Jex. He still could not understand the significance
of the dream, but he was not going to have much time to think about it: Jornon was
approaching.
“Well, how well did you sleep?”
Kyle was a little edgy and so was his response: “Why should you care? Last night
when nothing happened, you threatened to kill us!” Kyle knew that he was making a
rather large mistake in talking to this person that way, but Kyle had felt himself pushed to
the emotional edge. “Go ahead! Flip one of your stupid sleeping darts at me! At least
then I could not feel it when you get tired of me enough to kill me! What have I done to
you!” Kyle almost out of control. Biknor and 'nDric ran over to him unimpeded. Biknor
placed himself between Kyle and Jornon while 'nDric consoled Kyle who was now
sobbing uncontrollably.
Biknor said nothing only watched Jornon who seemed shocked by the display. As
the leader looked at Biknor, his eyes darkened only slightly. Then he turned sharply and
walked to the horses.
“Everyone mount up!” He shouted.
Biknor walked ahead of 'nDric and Kyle his expression solemn, eyes narrowed.
The strain of riding with these men was getting on him too. It was one thing not to be
able to talk with one's companions, yet it was quite another not to think dangerous
thoughts. Something was going to break, but Biknor did not know when. He looked
back at Kyle walking with 'nDric. He wished consciously that he could do something to
alleviate the boy's frustration. But, as far as he could tell, things were only going to get
worse. He reached into his pouch and dabbed his finger in some ointment.
When they reached the horses, Biknor helped Kyle mount. Carefully, without
being noticed, he wiped the ointment on Kyle's neck. Within a few minutes, he thought,
he'll be asleep. This will help Kyle's anxieties for a while.
The trio hadn't really talked since they found out that Jornon could read their
thoughts. Each had their own opinion for the reason they were being taken captive. Each
had felt the crowded loneliness: something was going to break that was clear. At least,
Kyle will be aloof from this tension for a while.
They started riding toward the town of Dobberston. 'nDric trotted his beast up to
Jornon. “We are now far enough out of range for any to care where we are going. Will
you please tell us now?”
Jornon turned his head and looked down at the dwarf. What Kyle had said had
taken a toll on the charismatic face. He was well experienced and his actions showed—
until now. It was now apparent that the leader liked Kyle a little more than he cared to
admit. Kyle's words had hurt a hardened man.
As that realization flashed through 'nDric mind, Jornon quickly turned his face
and spoke while not looking at the dwarf: “I will tell you when I tell you.” There was a
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note contempt in his voice.
While 'nDric was talking with the Jornon, Kyle took the opportunity to try Biknor
with a question: “Biknor? Have you ever entered one of my dreams?”
The question certainly raised an eyebrow of the listener. “Whether you dreamed
about me at any time is completely out of my control,” Biknor answered with amusement.
“But, if you mean whether I have entered your conscious thoughts at any point: no, I
haven't.”
Kyle was getting too drowsy to ask any more questions. But, the answer was
quite sufficient. He leaned forward in his saddle and fell asleep. 'nDric was done talking
with Jornon, by then, so he slowed to join Kyle and Biknor. 'nDric noticed that Kyle was
asleep.
“Is he alright?” 'nDric asked, nodding at Kyle.
“He'll be fine. I gave a little ointment to help him sleep. I felt he needed to forget
for a little while.”
Kyle began to dream. He looked around. The trees were a dark green and
glistened with morning dew. The sky was white and featureless. There was a slight
breeze blowing from an indeterminable source. It was the same scene Kyle was in
before...
“Welcome back, Kyle,” came the voice from behind Kyle.
Kyle turned about. A robed man stood there. He pulled back his hood and said:
“Remember me?” The man extended his hand.
Kyle nodded slowly. It was Nelen Jex—his grandfather. Kyle shook his hand.
But, how was he supposed to take this appearance? Was he the very person that he
claimed? How he be sure? He had been fooled once before.
“You do not believe I am who I say I am. Well, then we have a small dilemma,
don't we? Because, I cannot prove who I say I am, and you cannot check me because I
am merely an apparition to you. Just trust me and what I have to say.”
Kyle didn't know what to do other than listen. He didn't feel tired, and he wasn't
in his bodily form so he did feel inclined to sit down. Being content in his current stature,
he listened to the self-claimed relative.
“Many have given you a lot of erroneous information. So, I must tell you the real
story to what happened to me, so that you may avoid the same threat. I know you have
read part of the record of Grog. It relates the coming of Gall, and his ultimate
destruction,” then seeing Kyle's reaction he added: “Yes, he was destroyed. This
information is not well known, for the Followers have done their very best to quell this
knowledge. This way they can still rein in their tyrannical stations without threat.
“The Followers wanted to rule over the world, and we Chosen would not allow
that: they use fear and intimidation to control others. So we chose to separate ourselves
from them. Back then there was only one main continent: we tried to combine our
powers and break off the kingdom of the Followers. But our magic was flawed. Not only
did it divide the continent but it also created the Valley of Derangement and banished
Gall (or Gatom to us). Gatom, then the leader of the Followers (called the Head Domsel)
was trying to distract us when he got caught by the power’s force. We had no intention of
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destroying anyone: he just was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“When the Followers had heard that I destroyed their lord, they conspired to retain
their stations. Of course, they weren't very happy with what I had done. And, since I was
now their greatest threat, they decided to kill me and my wife and raise my daughter,
Narith, under their influence. Further if she would not agree to help them, they would
take her first child, giving it to a Follower’s family to be raised as a Follower then kill her
—for they knew that the powers are only given to the firstborn. It was quite an elegant
plan: even if Narith were to have found out that it was a Follower who killed me and my
wife, they would have already killed the murderer, so that retribution would have already
been paid.
“Fortunately, there was a small flaw in their plan: one of the Followers had taken
pity on me and my family. But, by the time he reached us me and Narith were being
taken away, and I had already been poisoned. He placed my body in a position to make it
appear that I had died of exhaustion and went after my family. He was able to find my
family and help them away. He took care of my family until my wife was killed by some
of the Followers. He then took care of Narith and her sons. Narith had to flee to save
you and Grth but was killed by a stampede of horses as she was chased by the Followers’
mercenaries. This ex-Follower basically had no powers other than agelessness.”
“Are you saying that 'nDric was a Follower? You are out of your mind!”
“Yes, I am out of my mind. I have been for many years now,” Nelen Jex said with
a smile.
Kyle understood the pun but was still angry for the man's accusation. 'nDric one
the Followers that he hates? Impossible! How much of the information is this being
volunteering true? Kyle was caught in indecision.
Nelen Jex saw that Kyle was having trouble believing, but he could do nothing to
help him. “I know that this is hard to accept, but try to hear me out. 'nDric is no longer a
Follower. I've never met him personally, but he's done well enough to raise my
grandsons. He must be a very good man, but please believe me: he was a Follower once a
long time ago. But, now, he’s as much a Chosen as you.”
“How do you know all of this without even meeting 'nDric? Where have you
been all this time?” Kyle asked after some thought.
“I've been here.”
“In my mind?”
“Let me explain: I didn't move into your mind, your mind moved here.”
“Where's here?” Kyle looked about.
“The place where the dead go after their death.”
“I'm in the world of the dead!” Kyle gasped. “Then, I am dead?”
“Calm down. You were here last time, remember? Had you died then? No!”
“But... but... How did I get here?”
“I don't know. But, I figured that I might as well set the story right while you
were here.”
“How did you learn the 'whole' story, as you put it?”
“By asking those that are here. Narith, your mother, is even here.”
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Kyle
“Where? I don't see anyone else here.”
“Oh, they're around. They just have a hard time seeing a living person—they miss
being mortal.”
All of these concepts were very confusing to Kyle. But he did not want to pursue
the topics. There were questions that he had wanted to ask, and it appeared now was a
good time. “The Guardian told me that all of the Chosen were given some powers and
that only one was given all of the powers. Is this true?”
“Yes, as far as I know. And that lineage is my lineage.”
“So, I have all the powers?” Kyle said to himself trying to swallow the enormity
of it.
“Yes, so that means you have a great responsibility.”
“Twins get the same powers?”
“I suppose so. It happens so rarely that no one knows what happens.”
“Who has Grth?”
“Kalesi, the Wanderer. A very wicked man. He has chose not to leave your
world for vengeance. Do you remember the path you were on when we met? That is the
connection between your world and this world. He turned back instead of coming in.
This is one task that you must perform, you know: since you can come here, you must
bring Kalesi back.”
** * * *
“Take his child didst thou?” Came a screech waking Grth.
He looked up and saw a whole horde of harpies surrounding them. Still groggy,
he rolled over and looked at Helga. She was looking around at the horde, just as startled
as he was.
“Helga! Didst thou take his child?” Repeated the crone impatiently.
She shook her head in shame. “Ah could not, Dominstra. Nor did Ah want to.”
She looked up defiantly.
“Oh, so, has spirit the woman who herself claims a harpy. Well, my little pretty!”
Grth caught that was a vile insult. “That thou art a simple maiden know we now! Will
want you both the Followers, because taken his child thou hast not!”
Grth blanched at the thought: the Followers! So they were hired by the Followers
to find them. They killed Nelen Jex and probably killed their mother, Narith. Soon they
would have himself—Kyle's search party wouldn't know anything about it. He looked at
Helga. She was supposed to have taken my child? Why? Helga seeing his gaze turned
her face away.
The harpies grabbed them harshly and dragged them down to the woods. Grth
and Helga dared not fight back, because there were so many of them. There must have
been about fifty harpies surrounding them: without a doubt, the harpies were scared of the
duo. The grasp hurt Grth's hands, feet, back, legs, etc. In short, they were being quite
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abusive.
As they approached a mountain base, they heard an unholy scream from behind
them. The hags ignored it and continued their course toward a cliff face. Within a few
minutes, a cave opening became apparent. Once reaching it, Grth and Helga were
ceremoniously dropped on the ground with echoing thuds and complaints of pain.
Grth looked around and saw that they were in a huge cavern, lit by various, smoky
torches on the walls. The walls to the ceiling was covered with a thick, greasy soot by the
torches. All the harpies had lined themselves against the wall and stood staring at himself
and Helga. They were on something like straw, but it was built up in a ring—a nest?
“The counsel chamber,” said Helga. “Expect us to mate they do.” She concluded
solemnly.
Grth was shocked. “Why do they expect us to do that? Why did they ask if you
had taken my child? I don't have a child.”
“When under the wraith's spell thou wast, went Ah to my people and pleaded
them undo thy spell with their spells. None believed that once a harpy Ah was. They
conditioned the reversal: I had to take thy child. Well known it is that a Chosen’s seed
would carry the Gift as well.” She looked around at the cavern she would have called
home, but now she detested. “They wanted me to steal thy child and shorten thy life.”
Grth thought about this and knew that there had to be a way of this maddening
place. The walls and floor were smooth but filthy. No way out here. The only opening
was from whence they came, which was carefully guarded. He thought back to her
conclusion: “Shorten my life?”
“Yea,” she said emphatically. “Chosen do not age—until they conceive their first
born.” She paused and turned looking at the surroundings and considering her next step.
Then, squaring her shoulders, she called up to the guards: “We will not comply,
Dominstra!”, she declared.
Cries of disgust and anger reverberated off the stony walls. The queen harpy
swooped down and landed with an abrupt, unceremonious thud. She stood for a moment
considering the two. Her expression was clouded with anger and impatience yet
indecisiveness. She clearly wanted something but was too proud to state it. Finally, she
blurted: “Then we will have to turn you over to the Followers.” She turned to Grth with a
sadistic grin, “My pretty, them will ye face, and with red-hot irons thine seed will they
rip.” Then to Helga, she said: “If truly thou art the Helga knew once,” her voice seemed
slightly forlorn, “may thy wings always droop!” She cackled with wicked glee. Calling
to the guards: “Take them to the Followers!”
Four harpies flew down and snatched up Grth and Helga.
*****
Kyle gazed out at the morning sky as he pondered his grandfather. How was he
supposed to get Kalesi to the other plane? He wasn’t even sure how he got there himself.
Nelen Jex said something about a path or road which connected the two worlds. How
could he get Kalesi onto this path? His mind shifted, unconcerned that Jornon might be
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Kyle
listening. This path that we’re taking right now: what does it have to do with the
warnings I have gotten. A concern for my offspring, he pondered. As the realization
came to him, his anger flared. Though quickly he quenched it and thought again about
the sunrise.
“The sunrises up here are always impressive,” Biknor talked up interrupting
Kyle’s thoughts. He sat down and looked out over the new valley they would enter today.
“They are going to take my offspring,” Kyle declared calmly.
Biknor paused and did not know what to say. Instead he pointed out to the distant
lake. “That looks like a good place for fishing.” He lowered his hand and placed it over
his mouth. Kyle understood. Still, he fumed but left the cause out of his thoughts.
He thought about Grth and silently wished he could see him again. How
interesting it was that we would fight all the time, yet I miss him now, he pondered. The
morning air still had a little nip, and until now, it didn’t bother him. Now he was getting
a little chill. He got up, leaving Biknor to himself, and walked over to the fire. He
warmed his hands quietly, ignoring the cold the suspicious and hateful stares.
‘nDric was warming a cup near the fire. He considered going over to him, but
what could they talk about. The only obvious topics were what their destination was,
how Grth was and how they going to escape. The first two would lead nowhere and the
latter was forbidden. So, he sat there in quiet solitude.
Biknor had once said that it would rude to read others’ mind without their
permission; now, he knew why. This situation was simply unbearable. The more he
thought about it, the more his mood soured.
“I have good news,” Jornon spoke interrupting his thoughts (and making him
jump slightly). “We have your brother and we will be meeting them at the next town!”
He walked up to Kyle and smiled: “I’m sure you will be looking forward to seeing him
again!” He was honestly trying to be cheerful, which gave Kyle no consolation: anything
that would make Jornon happy is not likely to be good. Still, he began to think about how
nice it would be to see his brother again.
Or, maybe it wouldn’t be... After all, all they ever do is fight and argue. He
thought back to when their last meeting: Grth became a creature and seriously hurt him.
That was hardly pleasant. His thoughts shifted: How did Grth survive all this time? That
thought really impressed Kyle.
“You don’t seem very happy to hear this news,” Jornon said playfully.
“How much money will you get for us?” Kyle asked coolly.
Jornon was taken aback. He didn’t know how to answer, so he decided to walk
away instead. ‘nDric watched the exchange with somber anticipation. He knew that
Kyle’s jabs may eventually cause the leader to lash out. The resulting would become
anything—maybe even a chance to escape. He grinned slightly but quickly pushed that
thought out.
“How are you doing?” Came a soft friendly voice.
“Biknor, I don’t want to talk about it.” Kyle’s reply was flat and peeved.
“It’s hard on all of us. Listen, why don’t practice some more magic and get your
mind off other things.” While Kyle was not very eager, he was willing to do anything to
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Kyle
beat the boredom.
Biknor picked up a rock about the size of his large fist and placed it in front of
Kyle. “That is very hard: soften it.” He got a puzzled look. “Think that rock to mud.”
Kyle at first did not know how or even why he should. He was perfectly content
with the rock being as solid as it was. Still, it was either boredom or mushy rocks. He
thought to himself: How would I soften a rock? He got an idea and started to concentrate.
He didn’t want to do it too fast and cause too much attention. In his mind he could see
the rock dissolving into the dirt.
Soon he started to cough from some pungent odor. Opening his eyes he saw
Biknor holding his nose. Kyle’s eyes followed Biknor’s gaze: there was a smoldering,
red lump where the rock used to be.
“You melted it,” Biknor said still holding his nose. “I think it had a little sulfur in
it, as well.”
Kyle sat down in a slump, discouraged.
“Don’t get discouraged,” consoled the Woodsman. “Here try again. This time,
think of it getting wet, mushy and pliable.” He placed another rock in front of him.
As those two worked together, ‘nDric watched from a distance. He looked around
and made sure that no one paid any attention to them. As Kyle closed his eyes a second
time, the Old Dwarf watched the rock fracture then sag. Eventually it became a lump.
Kyle’s eyes lit up as he discovered his triumph. Something his father would never
understand, ‘nDric thought sadly.
Kyle played with the gooey thing that once was a rock, making a little bowl. Then
he tried to convert it back to a solid. Almost immediately, it crumbled to a powder and
passed through his fingers. That boy has a lot to learn in so little time, ‘nDric smiled wanly.
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Kyle
Chapter 6
“Good news, Master!” The Higher Follower spoke when he got the attention of
the Domsel who was reading a large tome on the desk.
“Yes?”
“The brother of Kyle, Grth, was retrieved!”
“Excellent! When can we expect them all to arrive?” The Domsel grinned
sincerely. He held his finger at the last spot he had read. The colorful text looked
alluring to the Follower, but he dared not approach.
“Within a month,” he said straightening his shoulders with certainty.
“Very good! Dismissed” The Domsel returned to the text. When the Follower
left the room, he leaned back, placing his hands behind his head, and smiled broadly.
*****
“You dare take him from me!” The screech jarred everyone in the campsite. “I will
have my revenge! Now!” The was a clamor and a couple grunts.
“That was ‘nDric,” Kyle gasped. He jumped up and ran over to where ‘nDric lay.
Floating above him was a ghostly form with bony fingers and tattered rags for clothing. It
swung out and slashed at ‘nDric, who twisted and grunted at each attack.
“Wake up, mortal fool! I must destroy thee!” Kalesi cried powerlessly. “I must have
my revenge! I will have my revenge!” ‘nDric grunted and grumbled and rolled over,
completely ignoring the apparition.
The sight completely stunned Kyle: A ghost is attacking ‘nDric, and he doesn’t even
wake up! By that point, several others had joined Kyle in watching this spectacle. At
first they were terrified, then stunned, then a couple began to laugh. The laugher drew the
attention of the specter which looked up and scowled. Those who were laughing paled
and began to back away.
“So, dost thou find humor in me?” Kalesi approached one of the men. “Thou wilt
learn today—a little too late—thy lesson!” Instantly, Kalesi pounced on the man. At
each swipe the man writhed and wailed; each hit made him darker and darker. Until,
nothing remained but a black shadow. Once the transformation completed, Kalesi
relented and began to pursue another. The shadow rose, faced Kyle and walked toward
him.
The other men immediately ran for their swords. Kyle began to panic. He turned and
plowed directly into cloaked tree. Well, it was—to his relief—Bilnor. “Bilnor, do you
see it? What do I do?” Kyle used him as a post to get up from falling.
“First, you must relax and listen to me very carefully,” he said soothingly. Kyle, still
terrified, took a breath and listened. “What did you see happen? He lost his light. Give
it back to him. Think him full of light.” Kyle listened but did not understand.
He shook his head and glanced back at the approaching shadow.
“Kyle, picture in your mind a light growing in the shadowed man,” Biknor said
firmly. Kyle obeyed. He quickly pictured in his mind where the shadow it. He began at
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the center and filled it will white light. He looked over and saw the man standing there
restored. “Very good! Now we have no time.” He pointed over at Kalesi who was now
attacking another man. The other men tried to no avail with their swords. Again the new
victim darkened and faded.
“You must send Kalesi, the specter, to the next world,” Bilnor said quickly.
“But how? Nelen Jex told me that I needed to that also!” He shook his head in
frustration. “I don’t know how.”
“Do you remember what you saw before seeing Nelen Jex?”
“Yeah, a distant white light—like a door.”
“Open that door and send him through.” When Biknor noticed a complaint rise,
he raised his hand to shush him. “Think him through the door.”
Kyle again closed his eyes and remembered the door. No, it was a gate. He
opened it. Immediately, he heard a shriek. He shot a look in that direction. There was a
white light with shafts of piercing out of it directly next to Kalesi. Kalesi was reaching
out trying to get away from the gate. All the other men stood there dumbfounded. One of
the shafts struck Kalesi, and instantly he, the light and the gate were sucked into a bright
point which faded.
Bilnor and Kyle walked up to the last victim who was nearly human. He was
weak and lay on his side propped up by one good arm. Parts of him were blacker than
wood coal. His face was streaked with void stripes. He gasped for breath and moaned
barely audibly. The black splotches widened and continued to consume him. He looked
at Kyle with vague intelligence and emotional pleading. “Kill me! Please!”
Pity welled up in Kyle. Briefly holding his emotions back, he repeated how he
healed the last man. But he turned away before they noticed the tears in his eyes.
“What’s going on?” ‘nDric stepped around the tree he had been sleeping next to.
“Why everyone up and about in the middle of the night?” Getting no answer, he yawned,
stretched and returned to his bedroll. Bilnor considered telling him, but it could wait until
morning. Instead he followed Kyle and put his arm around the young man.
*****
The next morning, everyone was much more somber and noticeably more
considerate of Kyle and his friends. Jornon had eyed them all during that night but did
nothing. They broke camp and began to pack their things.
“We will be heading a little east to catch up to your brother and his girlfriend,”
Jornon said to Kyle within ‘nDric’s and Bilnor’s earshot. The news sort of took Kyle by
surprise: first, this was the first time that Jornon ever indicated a destination. Second,
Grth has a girlfriend? The evening’s escapades slipped quickly from his mind. Grth has
a girlfriend. Being able to see his brother again after so long gave him a new hope.
Albeit, it was a small one.
Bilnor and ‘nDric we not slow on the uptake themselves. But, the thought of
escape was beyond their power at that point. Still, reuniting with Grth would actually
facilitate them in the long run. Both of them also had concerns about Grth’s lack of
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training and supposedly having a girlfriend. The implications would be disastrous if he
were to marry without proper instruction with his gifts.
They began their trek and proceeded to descend from the mountain ranges. Rocks
and boulders lay strewn along the face of the mountain and they would often have to
bypass one or two large ones found in the path. Vegetation was sparse as was animal life.
By the time they reached the valley floor, they were once again shrouded in dense forests.
Before long, they were on a road. And by evening, they had reached a small town.
“We will stay here and wait for your brother,” Jornon said. “I would consider
very carefully about attempting an escape: we have your brother and we have you.” He
let that thought hang in the air ominously. “We will wait in the tavern here. They will
join us by morning.” As he walked away, Kyle looked over at Bilnor and ‘nDric, feeling
powerless as always.
The town was very small—two buildings and a few houses. Still for a town that
size, there were several people on the road walking to/from various buildings. It almost
seemed unnatural. Even more particular was the feeling that they were being watched,
but no one was obviously looking at them. In fact, no one returned their gaze. It was a
very odd, unsettling feeling.
They entered the tavern and went up directly to their rooms. It was approaching
dusk and the inhabitants began to clear the streets. Kyle watched them from the window,
silently wishing that someone would rescue them. He looked out to the dusky sky and
watched the sun make its descent amidst a orange and red creased blanket. He felt slight
melancholy. Closing his eyes he tried carefully, quietly to find his brother. Nothing.
He resigned himself to bed
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