It's been far too long, so I thought it was time for me to put something else up.
The sun glinted with a pang of regret, its failing rays trickling gently over flat and crest. Shadows flickered eagerly as their tendrils flared out to envelop the landscape. A quiet unease flooded the ground, as the animals in the forest struggled with the failing light and the people in the valley rushed to escape the oncoming darkness.
As the light faded, more eyes surveyed the land with a different intent, readying for the coming evening with a keen taste of its offerings. The twilight bred a disquiet that passed as the night grew stronger, the passing from day to night presenting itself as a greater evil. The nocturnal creatures bade their time with patience for their equal share of the land, awaiting their chance to forage, hunt and live.
Alone, in silence, lay those who watched both the creatures of night and day. Watching with ceaseless gazes and unrelenting fervour, observing everything with an interest unmatched. The passionate thirst for knowledge and balance drove their thoughts, a lust not slaked by a normal life.
Those watchful eyes drooled over the scene below their furrowed ridge, a pock marked face peering with ferocity into the valley. Their owner's mind whirled with possibilities as he surveyed with acute vision, practice and experience picking up the smallest movements of all things.
The sway of a bush as a cat stalked underneath it, the gentle swish of the tree leaves as a possum leapt from one to another, the flutter of a bat's wings cast against the night sky all stood out for his gaze. His pricked ears heard the casual rustle of leaves filtered out so it barely registered in his mind, that white noise barely a whisper beneath the sounds of movement for all manner of beasts prowling in the dark.
Two figures made their way across a clearing towards their homes. They had tarried too long in the late afternoon and were forced to make their way home by the light of the moon. The night sounds were a disturbance to them, unused to the foreign sounds of nocturnal life. The watcher did not find amusement or feel pity due to the fear dripping from their muted tones of their useless babble.
He pitied their ignorance. He felt regret that they had never learned to observe or listen to their surroundings apart from the sheltered existence they knew. He held his place as the event approached. His pity redoubled as he knew the people had no clue what was about to happen.
The creature came from a patch of thick scrub near the tree line, bursting forth with bared teeth, venom in its heart and hunger in its minds. Its humanoid structure covered in fur charged at the two figures with pure thought of intent. It had prey in its vision, and neither their piercing squeals of terror nor feeble attempts to flee would suffice.
The watcher judged the distance close enough to use his weapon to bring the creature down. He waited. The pursuit was brief, as the figures were no match in speed for the creature. The watcher felt his weapon heave on him, but his hands were steady.
Their bodies were rend asunder by the creature. The watcher would be no deus ex machina for the figures below. He was there to observe, not to interfere. Involvement would simply dim his senses to the truth of observation. The watcher turned, his mind already elsewhere as other sounds and sights demanded his attention. His feet rushed to a new vantage point, for neither time nor his thirst would wait.
Showing posts with label Fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fantasy. Show all posts
Wednesday, 10 October 2007
Thursday, 5 July 2007
Lowelm's Shadow (Part 1)
I've redone Lowelm's Shadow. I'd make an apology, but it wouldn't be sincere, as a crucial part of writing is rewriting. Without a willingness to rewrite and improve things, adjust characters, add in extra detail, flesh out depth and do lots of other great things that make stories interesting, then it's not possible to write really well. Though it makes writing a whole lot more work.
Anyway, here's the rewritten version. So even if you read part 1 before, please "re-read" this part 1 before reading part 2, otherwise part 2 won't make sense. This version adds more depth to the characters and the setting, the lack of which in the first version made it... not as good or interesting as it should have been. I'm hoping to write some more about these characters in the future, though I guess I could actually end up writing more about their past...
Naptali whirled as a threatening noise cracked forth from the natural thrum of the forest. Her burnished hair rippled against its ties with unease as a strange energy coursed in the air. Birds became silent and flittered away, while the soft thumping of feet spoke the retreat of deer and rabbits. Her elven ears pricked tightly, Naptali drew her sword with soft hands, unsheathing it without a single whisper against its scabbard. A hint of discomfort twitched through Naptali’s body, telling her the source of the disturbance: magic.
Her footsteps barely left a touch on the wild grass, practiced movement meaning she was silent and untraceable. The trees rustled with grave warning, letting their friend know of an impending danger, all the while trying to conceal her presence. Whatever was stalking her, Naptali could tell it was close. It was moving cautiously, yet with not enough stealth, and she ducked quickly into a seemingly impenetrable growth of spiked bushes with untold ease.
The unknown foe approached as Naptali crouched at the ready, and suddenly a figure stepped before her invisible hiding place. In an instant Naptali was on her feet and had her sword point at her opponent’s throat.
The man stopped deadly still as he felt the sharp tip against the side of his neck. His dark eyes moved sideways to look at her nervously while rooted in place. Brushing the top of his hood back slowly with his left hand, he gave a puzzled look. “How do you do that?” He asked incredulously. “And is that any way to greet an old friend, Naptali?”
“Drauglin!” She said with a great smile. He sheathed her sword and kissed him lightly on the cheek before embracing him. “It’s been too long, friend.”
“Indeed it has, my dear elf,” his look of worry giving way to a warm smirk. “Though, of course, I have to envy that you still look like someone I wish I could court.”
“Don’t be foolish, Drauglin,” she admonished him. “If you wanted to court me, not even your magic would give you the power to speak even one intelligent word!”
Both of them had been young when she had first met the powerful magician, and no matter how many years passed, neither of them could forget his painfully inept attempts to woo a young girl on that first occasion. It had been a running joke between the two of them ever since. Drauglin grimaced in mock anguish at Naptali’s barb and sighed. “Ah, a precious flower you would be to me, dare I to pluck you and offer my kind heart.”
“That’s more like it,” said Naptali with a grin. “But how come I’m lucky enough to see you here?”
Drauglin’s faced dropped. “I wouldn’t exactly consider it luck. That would probably be the last word I would use.”
Naptali knew the graveness of his tone spoke of a deep-seated worry. It was a voice that was reserved for matters of importance, matters that could affect the futures of many. She gave a concerned look East to the town of Lowelm, a community that had long been under her protection, and her home. “Come,” she said to Drauglin. “Whatever it is that you have to tell me, it would be best said in my home.”
“But,” began Drauglin.
“No,” she insisted. “It is late in the day already. And whatever it is can wait until we return there.” He nodded in reluctant acquiescence. “Besides,” Naptali added with a knowing look, “I’m guessing we’re going to need supplies for wherever it is we’re going.”
The two reached the small town just as night began to fall. “Is there some way we can get in without attention?” Asked Drauglin.
“What’s the matter, Drauglin?” Naptali asked. “Still playing the reluctant saviour of everyone’s existence?”
“I like to keep quiet wherever I can,” he said. “Besides, isn't your history with Lowelm somewhat similar? Only due to the word of a friend?”
Naptali frowned in defeat, for she her decision to act as an informal guardian to the town was not something she wanted to make initially. “Circumstances,” she offered weakly.
“Aren’t we all ruled by them?” Drauglin asked. “I didn’t ask for my fate and fame either.”
“Don’t worry,” she replied, changing the subject. “We’re so remote that by time tales of your exploits reach us, you’re at least twice as tall, have eyes of flame, and carry thunderbolts in your hands. No one would believe you were ‘Drauglin, hero of the world of Leiaron.’ Not even if I told them.”
Naptali’s words proved correct as they walked into the small town without incident. Regardless, she took him directly to her home to avoid any possible questions from the townsfolk. She moved quickly about the house and lit several lamps to combat the fading light. Offering him a seat, she sat down and looked at him with concern. “I’m worried that I might have an idea why you are here,” she said.
Drauglin appraised her cautiously. “What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything,” she replied. “Not for certain. I just know that I felt something about a week ago. It was big.”
“Magical?” He exhaled pointedly as Naptali nodded. “Your ability to sense magic has always been strange to me.”
Her face cracked in frustration. “Drauglin, my ancestors were mages for as long as I know.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean you will have the gift.”
Her voice developed a hint of dejection. “Thanks, Drauglin, that really appeases me at being so pathetic that not only am I not a magician, but I also get sick from magic.”
“It doesn’t make you a failure, Naptali.”
“I don’t want to discuss this,” she said curtly. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“It was a release of magical energy,” Drauglin explained. “Or rather, being violently dissipated. Near the old ruins to the south.”
“I’d often thought to ask you about those,” said Naptali. “Though I suppose you probably would have dodged the question.”
Drauglin smiled. “Possibly, but generally I’m evasive for your own good. But in this case, until recently I wouldn’t have been able answer you. It was only because of that something that I found out what was there. Many things are forgotten and become secrets for a reason.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “What kind of reason?”
“Because they’re dangerous for people to know.” Drauglin’s voice had reassumed that flat, serious tone. “But sometimes they must be remembered. So that something can be done about them.”
“Stop speaking in riddles,” Naptali growled. “What’s this secret?”
“To be honest?” Drauglin paused. He ran a hand slowly back through his cropped, greying hair and sighed. “I don’t know. All I know is that something is there. And it’s nothing good.”
“You’ve got to give me more than that, Drauglin!” She exclaimed.
“I wish I could,” he said. “But I don’t know what it is. I just know that there’s a lot of magical energy being disturbed. And there’s some kind of underground complex.”
“How do you know all this?” Naptali asked, her face hard.
“I felt that disturbance too. From a lot further away.” His eyes were flooded with concern. “I found the entrance yesterday. I walked only a short distance inside before I saw a corpse. The injuries must’ve come from magic.”
“I understand,” she said flatly. “We’ll leave tomorrow. I’ll ready my weapons and get supplies.”
“That’s it?” Drauglin asked.
“What else is there to say?” she replied. “I’ll make sure the town is prepared in case we don’t return.”
“You have a very bleak outlook at times, did you know that, Naptali?”
It was Naptali’s turn to answer with a dark tone. “Not all of us have magic to alter our destiny.”
She was glad Drauglin knew her well enough to answer only with silence.
They woke early the next day. They ate a full breakfast in a wisp of sunlight, and set off before it was fully risen. Both carried a small pack of food supplies, and Naptali carried her sword and bow. She had offered Drauglin a lightweight weapon, but he produced an ornate dagger and refused.
“No offence, Naptali, but if I have to use this, I doubt whatever you can offer will protect me more.” Her simple shrug was the only natural reply.
The hours of walking passed with light conversation, with both recounting events since they had last met. Drauglin shadowed Naptali, for her natural affinity with the forest produced an easy path for him to follow. Across the light scrub she found flat ground, through the trees she made a straight path, and in dense brush she trod an invisible track through seemingly impenetrable vegetation.
“Naptali, I think you have your own kind of magic in weaving through this forest,” Drauglin commented. She stared back with a blank expression, an icy disposition lurking beneath the surface.
“Sorry,” he apologised.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, though her voice made it clear she did.
A few moments later, Naptali came to an abrupt halt. Drauglin, with his head still partially down to avoid her gaze, bumped into her back. She gave a short curse as she grabbed onto a sapling. Her body teetered forward over the steep bank of a river, the small tree stretching painfully under her weight. Drauglin recovered quickly from his surprise and grabbed her free arm, tugging her back from the edge.
“Thank you,” she said. “Though it helps if you look where you’re going.”
He gave her a sheepish expression, and then looked at the river. “I don’t remember this.”
Naptali looked at him quizzically. “I’m not sure how you missed it,” she said. “It’s virtually impossible to cover this territory without crossing it.” She looked left and right in vague annoyance. “But I thought it narrowed enough that we could leap it somewhere around here.”
“Why don’t we just wade through?” Drauglin asked.
Naptali scanned the river for a moment then pointed a finger at the water. Drauglin followed her motion to a patch of shade. Just as he was about to speak, a bird dived down and skimmed the surface of the smooth river. In an instant, the dark patch darted forth and a mouth filled with teeth emerged from the surface. A flash of those stained daggers enveloped the hapless bird and disappeared like a nightmare beneath the impenetrable murk.
“Good answer,” said Drauglin.
“Come on.” Naptali motioned for him to follow her.
“No,” he said. “My turn to find the path.” He signalled for her to come to him. “Take my hand.”
“What?” She asked. “Why?” She grimaced as her hand clasped his. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Probably not,” he answered.
Naptali felt her stomach churn as Drauglin’s eyes gave a brief look of concentration. Time felt as though it were slowed down and the air crackled with a silent sound that Naptali knew was magic. She almost felt compelled to shut her eyes, but she kept them open and saw the colours of the scenery warp into a green mud. As the blur cleared, Naptali saw they were on the opposite side of the bank.
“Next time I won’t ask,” she said. “Though it still doesn’t solve the problem that I’m now not sure exactly where we are.”
“That’s not a problem either,” said Drauglin. “I know where we need to go.” He concentrated for a moment, and Naptali felt the distinct unease of magic pulse through her. “It’s that way.” Drauglin pointed a finger slightly to their left. “And it’s not very far away.” Naptali shook off the unnatural feeling of Drauglin’s spell and started moving in the direction that he had pointed.
The sun had already passed its peak and they had still not eaten since morning, so a trace of hunger lingered in Naptali’s stomach. She had a vague desire to stop and eat, but black clouds loomed with malice, so grabbed an apple from her pack and ate as they moved. She felt an uncomfortable itch on her skin for an instant, and turned back to see Drauglin with a peeled orange in his hand. “Can’t you use your hands like normal people?” She asked.
Naptali had almost finished her apple when they came to the clearing. The forest suddenly gave way to erratic grassland dotted with the remnants of buildings. The ruins were an oddity amongst the substantial foliage, for they marked an otherwise interrupted wilderness. There was something amiss in its presence, its silence dissonant against the typical murmur of the forest.
Naptali felt a chill rush through her body involuntarily, and looked at Drauglin accusingly.
“That wasn’t me,” he said worriedly. “I’m not sure where it came from.” His eyes glazed in concentration for an instant. “There’s nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?” Naptali asked.
“I can’t feel or see anything,” Drauglin replied. “There’s nothing around here that…” He suddenly looked at Naptali in shock as they both felt a massive surge of energy.
“What was that?” she exclaimed.
“We need to get to that complex. It’s coming from inside.” Drauglin’s tone was severe.
“You didn’t answer my question,” said Naptali.
“I’ll give you the answer when I know it,” he replied. “Follow me.”
They moved with measured urgency, eager to find the source of the disturbance, but also wary of its possible danger. Drauglin led with the confidence of conviction, his normally troubled step finding easy purchase on the undulating terrain. His steps travelled in a near straight line, his faultless memory taking them directly to a near invisible arrangement of stones near the edge of the clearing. “Here,” he said.
Naptali looked around, confused. “I don’t see anything.”
“Not yet,” Drauglin replied. A soft whisper parted his lips as his hand made a small circular motion at the stones embedded in the ground. Three pale flashes of light sprung forth from his hand and danced around the rocks. Their spirals lasted momentarily, then burnt out into nothingness.
Naptali stood bewildered for an instant, before her expression turned to one of amazement as the ground began to shimmer and fade before her eyes. The grass disappeared to show a small staircase of stone leading into darkness underground.
“A concealed entrance?” She asked incredulously.
“The mark of a secret that’s supposed to be forgotten,” Drauglin said.
Naptali gave him an admonishing look. “Not everything can be fixed by hiding it.”
“Then we can determine which one of the two this is.” He motioned for her to go down. “Quickly, let’s move.”
Naptali moved down the steps fast, but her pace slowed as the darkness grew. Her eyes flickered to see the floor, but her vision failed, and she stopped in a momentary panic. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the absence of light as wave of fear rushed over her, gripping her sword hilt so hard that her fingers ached.
In an instant, the magician appeared by her side. “Damn you, Drauglin,” she hissed angrily. “You know I can’t stand the dark.”
“Sorry,” he apologised. “I can help.” He shook his hand forcefully, and an artificial light suddenly sprung up around them. Naptali shuddered at the slight pain that it also sparked in her head, but was relieved at the light.
“Good.” She resumed walking, her mood as dark as the receding shadow.
There were only a few more steps before they reached the bottom of the staircase, and Naptali froze as she saw the entrance hall. She saw the corpse Drauglin had referred to and shivered in revulsion. The body appeared as though it had been melted in place. The head was a lump of boiled flesh, and the rest of the body looked red with heat, yet unmarked by any effect of burns.
“What in the hells can do that?” Naptali asked.
“I don’t know,” said Drauglin. They approached the corpse warily, as though it still held some form of unknown danger. “It just doesn’t look like anything natural.”
Naptali inspected the corpse. There were no signs of a struggle, no burn marks, nor anything to indicate what could have possibly caused it. “Drauglin, why do you need me here?” Naptali asked. “What can I possibly do against whatever caused that?”
“Plenty,” said Drauglin. “Sometimes, the worst way to fight magic is with more magic.”
“Right.” Naptali made her displeasure apparent. “Of course, that's not a problem for me, is it?” She paused. “And why aren’t other people here?”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere, Naptali. You know how isolated Lowelm is. And even if someone else had felt it, we probably wouldn’t want them here.”
“Of course,” she said. “Because I want to be without help when we’re up against something that can do that!” She pointed at the corpse.
“Mages have an overly active survival instinct, Naptali. Investigating magical anomalies isn’t safe. The only people that might be heading in our direction, we don’t want to meet. And I’d say they don’t want to meet us.”
“Then let’s find out what’s going on before they arrive,” said Naptali.
---------- Read the previous post for part 2
Anyway, here's the rewritten version. So even if you read part 1 before, please "re-read" this part 1 before reading part 2, otherwise part 2 won't make sense. This version adds more depth to the characters and the setting, the lack of which in the first version made it... not as good or interesting as it should have been. I'm hoping to write some more about these characters in the future, though I guess I could actually end up writing more about their past...
Naptali whirled as a threatening noise cracked forth from the natural thrum of the forest. Her burnished hair rippled against its ties with unease as a strange energy coursed in the air. Birds became silent and flittered away, while the soft thumping of feet spoke the retreat of deer and rabbits. Her elven ears pricked tightly, Naptali drew her sword with soft hands, unsheathing it without a single whisper against its scabbard. A hint of discomfort twitched through Naptali’s body, telling her the source of the disturbance: magic.
Her footsteps barely left a touch on the wild grass, practiced movement meaning she was silent and untraceable. The trees rustled with grave warning, letting their friend know of an impending danger, all the while trying to conceal her presence. Whatever was stalking her, Naptali could tell it was close. It was moving cautiously, yet with not enough stealth, and she ducked quickly into a seemingly impenetrable growth of spiked bushes with untold ease.
The unknown foe approached as Naptali crouched at the ready, and suddenly a figure stepped before her invisible hiding place. In an instant Naptali was on her feet and had her sword point at her opponent’s throat.
The man stopped deadly still as he felt the sharp tip against the side of his neck. His dark eyes moved sideways to look at her nervously while rooted in place. Brushing the top of his hood back slowly with his left hand, he gave a puzzled look. “How do you do that?” He asked incredulously. “And is that any way to greet an old friend, Naptali?”
“Drauglin!” She said with a great smile. He sheathed her sword and kissed him lightly on the cheek before embracing him. “It’s been too long, friend.”
“Indeed it has, my dear elf,” his look of worry giving way to a warm smirk. “Though, of course, I have to envy that you still look like someone I wish I could court.”
“Don’t be foolish, Drauglin,” she admonished him. “If you wanted to court me, not even your magic would give you the power to speak even one intelligent word!”
Both of them had been young when she had first met the powerful magician, and no matter how many years passed, neither of them could forget his painfully inept attempts to woo a young girl on that first occasion. It had been a running joke between the two of them ever since. Drauglin grimaced in mock anguish at Naptali’s barb and sighed. “Ah, a precious flower you would be to me, dare I to pluck you and offer my kind heart.”
“That’s more like it,” said Naptali with a grin. “But how come I’m lucky enough to see you here?”
Drauglin’s faced dropped. “I wouldn’t exactly consider it luck. That would probably be the last word I would use.”
Naptali knew the graveness of his tone spoke of a deep-seated worry. It was a voice that was reserved for matters of importance, matters that could affect the futures of many. She gave a concerned look East to the town of Lowelm, a community that had long been under her protection, and her home. “Come,” she said to Drauglin. “Whatever it is that you have to tell me, it would be best said in my home.”
“But,” began Drauglin.
“No,” she insisted. “It is late in the day already. And whatever it is can wait until we return there.” He nodded in reluctant acquiescence. “Besides,” Naptali added with a knowing look, “I’m guessing we’re going to need supplies for wherever it is we’re going.”
The two reached the small town just as night began to fall. “Is there some way we can get in without attention?” Asked Drauglin.
“What’s the matter, Drauglin?” Naptali asked. “Still playing the reluctant saviour of everyone’s existence?”
“I like to keep quiet wherever I can,” he said. “Besides, isn't your history with Lowelm somewhat similar? Only due to the word of a friend?”
Naptali frowned in defeat, for she her decision to act as an informal guardian to the town was not something she wanted to make initially. “Circumstances,” she offered weakly.
“Aren’t we all ruled by them?” Drauglin asked. “I didn’t ask for my fate and fame either.”
“Don’t worry,” she replied, changing the subject. “We’re so remote that by time tales of your exploits reach us, you’re at least twice as tall, have eyes of flame, and carry thunderbolts in your hands. No one would believe you were ‘Drauglin, hero of the world of Leiaron.’ Not even if I told them.”
Naptali’s words proved correct as they walked into the small town without incident. Regardless, she took him directly to her home to avoid any possible questions from the townsfolk. She moved quickly about the house and lit several lamps to combat the fading light. Offering him a seat, she sat down and looked at him with concern. “I’m worried that I might have an idea why you are here,” she said.
Drauglin appraised her cautiously. “What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything,” she replied. “Not for certain. I just know that I felt something about a week ago. It was big.”
“Magical?” He exhaled pointedly as Naptali nodded. “Your ability to sense magic has always been strange to me.”
Her face cracked in frustration. “Drauglin, my ancestors were mages for as long as I know.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean you will have the gift.”
Her voice developed a hint of dejection. “Thanks, Drauglin, that really appeases me at being so pathetic that not only am I not a magician, but I also get sick from magic.”
“It doesn’t make you a failure, Naptali.”
“I don’t want to discuss this,” she said curtly. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“It was a release of magical energy,” Drauglin explained. “Or rather, being violently dissipated. Near the old ruins to the south.”
“I’d often thought to ask you about those,” said Naptali. “Though I suppose you probably would have dodged the question.”
Drauglin smiled. “Possibly, but generally I’m evasive for your own good. But in this case, until recently I wouldn’t have been able answer you. It was only because of that something that I found out what was there. Many things are forgotten and become secrets for a reason.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “What kind of reason?”
“Because they’re dangerous for people to know.” Drauglin’s voice had reassumed that flat, serious tone. “But sometimes they must be remembered. So that something can be done about them.”
“Stop speaking in riddles,” Naptali growled. “What’s this secret?”
“To be honest?” Drauglin paused. He ran a hand slowly back through his cropped, greying hair and sighed. “I don’t know. All I know is that something is there. And it’s nothing good.”
“You’ve got to give me more than that, Drauglin!” She exclaimed.
“I wish I could,” he said. “But I don’t know what it is. I just know that there’s a lot of magical energy being disturbed. And there’s some kind of underground complex.”
“How do you know all this?” Naptali asked, her face hard.
“I felt that disturbance too. From a lot further away.” His eyes were flooded with concern. “I found the entrance yesterday. I walked only a short distance inside before I saw a corpse. The injuries must’ve come from magic.”
“I understand,” she said flatly. “We’ll leave tomorrow. I’ll ready my weapons and get supplies.”
“That’s it?” Drauglin asked.
“What else is there to say?” she replied. “I’ll make sure the town is prepared in case we don’t return.”
“You have a very bleak outlook at times, did you know that, Naptali?”
It was Naptali’s turn to answer with a dark tone. “Not all of us have magic to alter our destiny.”
She was glad Drauglin knew her well enough to answer only with silence.
They woke early the next day. They ate a full breakfast in a wisp of sunlight, and set off before it was fully risen. Both carried a small pack of food supplies, and Naptali carried her sword and bow. She had offered Drauglin a lightweight weapon, but he produced an ornate dagger and refused.
“No offence, Naptali, but if I have to use this, I doubt whatever you can offer will protect me more.” Her simple shrug was the only natural reply.
The hours of walking passed with light conversation, with both recounting events since they had last met. Drauglin shadowed Naptali, for her natural affinity with the forest produced an easy path for him to follow. Across the light scrub she found flat ground, through the trees she made a straight path, and in dense brush she trod an invisible track through seemingly impenetrable vegetation.
“Naptali, I think you have your own kind of magic in weaving through this forest,” Drauglin commented. She stared back with a blank expression, an icy disposition lurking beneath the surface.
“Sorry,” he apologised.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, though her voice made it clear she did.
A few moments later, Naptali came to an abrupt halt. Drauglin, with his head still partially down to avoid her gaze, bumped into her back. She gave a short curse as she grabbed onto a sapling. Her body teetered forward over the steep bank of a river, the small tree stretching painfully under her weight. Drauglin recovered quickly from his surprise and grabbed her free arm, tugging her back from the edge.
“Thank you,” she said. “Though it helps if you look where you’re going.”
He gave her a sheepish expression, and then looked at the river. “I don’t remember this.”
Naptali looked at him quizzically. “I’m not sure how you missed it,” she said. “It’s virtually impossible to cover this territory without crossing it.” She looked left and right in vague annoyance. “But I thought it narrowed enough that we could leap it somewhere around here.”
“Why don’t we just wade through?” Drauglin asked.
Naptali scanned the river for a moment then pointed a finger at the water. Drauglin followed her motion to a patch of shade. Just as he was about to speak, a bird dived down and skimmed the surface of the smooth river. In an instant, the dark patch darted forth and a mouth filled with teeth emerged from the surface. A flash of those stained daggers enveloped the hapless bird and disappeared like a nightmare beneath the impenetrable murk.
“Good answer,” said Drauglin.
“Come on.” Naptali motioned for him to follow her.
“No,” he said. “My turn to find the path.” He signalled for her to come to him. “Take my hand.”
“What?” She asked. “Why?” She grimaced as her hand clasped his. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Probably not,” he answered.
Naptali felt her stomach churn as Drauglin’s eyes gave a brief look of concentration. Time felt as though it were slowed down and the air crackled with a silent sound that Naptali knew was magic. She almost felt compelled to shut her eyes, but she kept them open and saw the colours of the scenery warp into a green mud. As the blur cleared, Naptali saw they were on the opposite side of the bank.
“Next time I won’t ask,” she said. “Though it still doesn’t solve the problem that I’m now not sure exactly where we are.”
“That’s not a problem either,” said Drauglin. “I know where we need to go.” He concentrated for a moment, and Naptali felt the distinct unease of magic pulse through her. “It’s that way.” Drauglin pointed a finger slightly to their left. “And it’s not very far away.” Naptali shook off the unnatural feeling of Drauglin’s spell and started moving in the direction that he had pointed.
The sun had already passed its peak and they had still not eaten since morning, so a trace of hunger lingered in Naptali’s stomach. She had a vague desire to stop and eat, but black clouds loomed with malice, so grabbed an apple from her pack and ate as they moved. She felt an uncomfortable itch on her skin for an instant, and turned back to see Drauglin with a peeled orange in his hand. “Can’t you use your hands like normal people?” She asked.
Naptali had almost finished her apple when they came to the clearing. The forest suddenly gave way to erratic grassland dotted with the remnants of buildings. The ruins were an oddity amongst the substantial foliage, for they marked an otherwise interrupted wilderness. There was something amiss in its presence, its silence dissonant against the typical murmur of the forest.
Naptali felt a chill rush through her body involuntarily, and looked at Drauglin accusingly.
“That wasn’t me,” he said worriedly. “I’m not sure where it came from.” His eyes glazed in concentration for an instant. “There’s nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?” Naptali asked.
“I can’t feel or see anything,” Drauglin replied. “There’s nothing around here that…” He suddenly looked at Naptali in shock as they both felt a massive surge of energy.
“What was that?” she exclaimed.
“We need to get to that complex. It’s coming from inside.” Drauglin’s tone was severe.
“You didn’t answer my question,” said Naptali.
“I’ll give you the answer when I know it,” he replied. “Follow me.”
They moved with measured urgency, eager to find the source of the disturbance, but also wary of its possible danger. Drauglin led with the confidence of conviction, his normally troubled step finding easy purchase on the undulating terrain. His steps travelled in a near straight line, his faultless memory taking them directly to a near invisible arrangement of stones near the edge of the clearing. “Here,” he said.
Naptali looked around, confused. “I don’t see anything.”
“Not yet,” Drauglin replied. A soft whisper parted his lips as his hand made a small circular motion at the stones embedded in the ground. Three pale flashes of light sprung forth from his hand and danced around the rocks. Their spirals lasted momentarily, then burnt out into nothingness.
Naptali stood bewildered for an instant, before her expression turned to one of amazement as the ground began to shimmer and fade before her eyes. The grass disappeared to show a small staircase of stone leading into darkness underground.
“A concealed entrance?” She asked incredulously.
“The mark of a secret that’s supposed to be forgotten,” Drauglin said.
Naptali gave him an admonishing look. “Not everything can be fixed by hiding it.”
“Then we can determine which one of the two this is.” He motioned for her to go down. “Quickly, let’s move.”
Naptali moved down the steps fast, but her pace slowed as the darkness grew. Her eyes flickered to see the floor, but her vision failed, and she stopped in a momentary panic. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the absence of light as wave of fear rushed over her, gripping her sword hilt so hard that her fingers ached.
In an instant, the magician appeared by her side. “Damn you, Drauglin,” she hissed angrily. “You know I can’t stand the dark.”
“Sorry,” he apologised. “I can help.” He shook his hand forcefully, and an artificial light suddenly sprung up around them. Naptali shuddered at the slight pain that it also sparked in her head, but was relieved at the light.
“Good.” She resumed walking, her mood as dark as the receding shadow.
There were only a few more steps before they reached the bottom of the staircase, and Naptali froze as she saw the entrance hall. She saw the corpse Drauglin had referred to and shivered in revulsion. The body appeared as though it had been melted in place. The head was a lump of boiled flesh, and the rest of the body looked red with heat, yet unmarked by any effect of burns.
“What in the hells can do that?” Naptali asked.
“I don’t know,” said Drauglin. They approached the corpse warily, as though it still held some form of unknown danger. “It just doesn’t look like anything natural.”
Naptali inspected the corpse. There were no signs of a struggle, no burn marks, nor anything to indicate what could have possibly caused it. “Drauglin, why do you need me here?” Naptali asked. “What can I possibly do against whatever caused that?”
“Plenty,” said Drauglin. “Sometimes, the worst way to fight magic is with more magic.”
“Right.” Naptali made her displeasure apparent. “Of course, that's not a problem for me, is it?” She paused. “And why aren’t other people here?”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere, Naptali. You know how isolated Lowelm is. And even if someone else had felt it, we probably wouldn’t want them here.”
“Of course,” she said. “Because I want to be without help when we’re up against something that can do that!” She pointed at the corpse.
“Mages have an overly active survival instinct, Naptali. Investigating magical anomalies isn’t safe. The only people that might be heading in our direction, we don’t want to meet. And I’d say they don’t want to meet us.”
“Then let’s find out what’s going on before they arrive,” said Naptali.
---------- Read the previous post for part 2
Lowelm's Shadow (Part 2)
If you're reading this without having read the redone version of part 1, go forward and read that first. The story has been reworked, so part 1 is different from before.
They moved through the stone passages carefully, the cold silence interrupted only by their sound of their feet against the floor. Naptali held close to Drauglin, making sure she was not separated from the magical light that surrounded him. They moved through a series of interconnected chambers, each of them square and empty. The featureless void was disturbing, for the underground secret seemed home to nothing but stale air.
They made their way along a downward sloping tunnel, which eventually opened up to an octagonal room with a passage leading from each face. A large circular dais dominated this central room, flanked by eight pedestals, one for each corner of the room. A turquoise glow filled the room, acting as the visible partner for the embrace of icy air within.
Naptali shivered involuntarily. “Why is it so cold in here?”
Drauglin looked around for a few moments in silence. He walked around, inspecting the floor. “This was once used as a summoning chamber. There are still faint marks on the stone from it. The coldness is artificial, either for the summoning, or because of it. I don’t know which.” He looked at her. “Come. We need to look at these ante-chambers.”
“You might want to start with this one,” said Naptali, the distress audible in her voice.
Drauglin turned and peered to see that the small room Naptali had entered had lit up, exposing three dead bodies. One had been charred so badly it was only a blackened skeleton, another lying with a broken neck, a look of sheer horror upon the perfectly preserved face. The last was the most disturbing, for it was simply missing the top half of its body. It was as though its head and upper torso had simply disappeared.
“They killed each other with magic,” said Drauglin.
“But who was victorious?” Naptali asked.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “But I think we’re going to find out. Let’s look at the other rooms.”
They moved with a sense of urgency between the rooms. “Alchemical lab,” said Drauglin of the first. It was monopolised by a large table, with shelves on the walls holding all manner of glass apparatus. “Reagent room.” It appeared like a ramshackle arrangement of drawers, cupboards and chests. The fourth passage was a staircase, leading down an indeterminable distance deeper below. “We’ll look there later,” said Drauglin.
The next room was empty, followed by a chamber with small platforms that Drauglin explained were used for practicing spells. The last contained three bookshelves packed with heavy tomes. Two had been pulled out and lay on the small desk. Drauglin moved forward and looked at them. “Here,” he said. “Look at this.”
She looked at him frostily. “You know I never learned to read.”
“Sorry,” Drauglin replied. “They’re on summoning. This one appears to be some sort of journal.”
“Read them, then tell me,” Naptali said.
She waited silently as Drauglin read, a soft mutter occasionally escaping his lips as he flicked through the old pages. “It’s not clear,” he said softly.
“What?”
He looked at her frustrated. “The notes indicate they were trying to summon extraplanar creatures, but…”
“What’s an extraplanar creature?” asked Naptali.
“They don’t really exist. Or at least, not in a ‘solid’ sense like things that we know. They have to be forced into a corporeal form as they are summoned.”
“Next question,” she said. “Why?”
Drauglin smiled. “That’s easy. Power. The more difficult questions are ‘whom’ and when.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at these tomes,” he said. “You can see the fingermarks that have taken away the dust. At least on these two.” He turned to the bookshelf on his left and pulled a book from it. A plume of dust shot forth to accompany it. Once they stopped coughing, he spoke. “None of the other books have been touched. The dust alone says that they’ve been here for a long time. The almost unintelligible language means that they were also written then. But those dead magicians we saw, they didn’t write these. They only died recently.”
Naptali gave him a quizzical look. “What you’re saying is that those magicians did something to cause the disturbance and get themselves killed?”
“Exactly!” Drauglin said, clapping his hands together. “The worrying thing is, I’m not sure exactly what they disturbed. But it was nothing good.” Naptali gazed at him attentively, so he continued. “Whatever was originally summoned was too powerful for the summoners. The diary notes that there was a group of magicians, and several of them died trying to control it. The last entry indicates only that the author trapped ‘the beast’ permanently in a cage of magic.”
“Down the stairs?”
Drauglin nodded. “But I need to look in the reagent room first. The diary mentioned the use of crystals to drain its power. I have no idea what might be down those stairs, but I don’t want to go without those crystals.”
“Take all the time you need, Drauglin.” Naptali said. “I don’t like my chances at being able to hit something with my sword if it doesn’t have a body.”
Drauglin looked through the drawers carefully, and began pulling out long amber and violet crystals. “I think these are what we need,” he said. “They can store magical energy, and nothing else in here is remotely useful. At least, not anymore.” He picked up an unidentifiable ball that crumbled to dust between his fingers. Eventually, a total of eight crystals went into his small pack.
“Is that enough?” Naptali asked.
“It will have to be,” he replied.
“Then let’s go.” She walked towards the stairs calmly despite her terror of the unknown horror below.
The slow descent fuelled a growing unease that was suffocating in such close quarters. Neither of them spoke for fear of disturbing the cloying silence, as though it would be animated by the palpable magic that permeated their bodies. The feeling was nauseating in the way it emanated from everywhere, and each step seemed to cause more energy to rise and envelop them.
Naptali shuddered involuntarily and stopped. “I can’t stand it Drauglin.” she said.
“I know,” he replied. “It’s filling me as well.” His eyes glimmered with a vague aura of fear. “The magicians didn’t kill each other.” He said with a sudden note of realisation.
“They didn’t?”
Drauglin shook his head. “No. They killed themselves because they couldn’t control their magic.”
“You still can?” Naptali dreaded asking the question, but dreaded his answer more.
“At the moment.”
She inhaled worriedly. “It’s getting stronger, isn’t it?”
Drauglin nodded. “But we have to keep going.”
Naptali said nothing as she took another step down the long staircase. A soft, flickering colour was growing stronger as they moved down, distorting their perceptions even further. They finally saw the bottom of the staircase, and it appeared as though an ever-changing sun was captured below the earth.
They stepped forward into a massive chamber carved from the rock. It was impeccable in creation, a circular space with perfectly angled slopes carving a cone-shaped hollow into both the floor and ceiling. And within that vast emptiness was the blinding flurry of colour that was the source of the unrelenting light and energy. Naptali squinted as she tried to look at it directly, an act that felt as though it caused her physical pain.
“There’s far too much wild magical energy here,” said Drauglin. “Whatever is inside is trying to break free, and it doesn’t really care how it does it.”
“What do we do?” asked Naptali.
Drauglin held his finger to his lips and shut his eyes. Naptali could only wait as his eyes flickered wildly from underneath their closed lids. She could not imagine what he was doing, and was not sure that she wanted to.
“It’s as though this being exudes magic,” he said. “That’s what they needed the crystals for, to drain some of its essence and power before caging it.”
“There’s too much magic?”
“Yes, and I need to dissipate some of that energy first. Otherwise I don’t know what will happen when I try and strengthen the bonds.” Naptali had never seen Drauglin look so apprehensive about magic before, and it filled her with trepidation too. “I’m going to have to weaken the cage slightly and pull the energy from the ‘beast’ itself in order to do so.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Yes, but less so than trying to strengthen the cage as is it. Draining energy is a simple spell, but manipulating it into a cage…” Drauglin let his voice trail off.
The magician laid out the crystals on the floor in front of him. Standing bolt upright, he moved his arms in a circular motion and brought them in front of his chest. His fingers were splayed apart, with his thumbs barely apart and his palms directed at the crystals. The crystals began to glow faintly as Drauglin’s fingers became fiercely rigid. They lit up with ever increasing strength as Drauglin held his position for what seemed like an eternity.
The vague hum of energy filled the room with an oppressive air, as though it were demanding their silence. Naptali felt her head throb as the colour in the centre of the room grew stronger and thrashed more violently as time passed. The gentle glow of the crystals had swelled into a strong light source as Drauglin’s spell continued. As they approached a luminescence that nearly drowned out their original colour, Drauglin stopped.
He turned to Naptali. “They’re not enough.”
“What?” she asked, worriedly.
“I wasn’t able to drain enough energy into the crystals. There’s still too much magic for me to be able to strengthen the cage without the threat of killing us both and setting it free.”
Naptali beamed with pride as an idea entered her head. “Can we go find more crystals?”
Drauglin shook his head in resignation. “Those crystals aren’t easy to find, and I’ve weakened the cage too much. In the time it would take to get them, this thing would have broken free.”
The elf exhaled helplessly. “Then we best run as fast as we can and hope we get help in time.”
“I don’t know what it is, Naptali,” he said. “But I from what was written in that journal, we can’t let it get free. There’s one last option.”
“I’m not going to like it, am I?” Drauglin shook his head. “What is it?” she asked.
“I drain the magical energy into you. You’re a better vessel for it than anything else we could possibly find in time.”
Her expression was tinged with anger. “I don’t appreciate being called a vessel.”
“Sorry. Magical term,” said Drauglin. “I know it makes you feel sick, but the fact that you can feel the energy means that you can hold a lot of it, as though you were storing it to cast a spell.”
A wave of anticipatory sickness gushed over Naptali, but she knew Drauglin would not have suggested it except as a last, desperate resort. “Where should I stand?” she asked resignedly.
“There is fine,” he said. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
She nodded at Drauglin and saw his hands clench as his face turned harsh with concentration. He thrust an open hand in her direction and another towards the centre of the room, and suddenly beams of the kaleidoscope flow arced towards her through him. She felt the energy flowing into her from the visible stream that burst from Drauglin’s fingers. Each crest in the undulating wave assaulted her with a surge of nausea that made her want to vomit. Her skin felt hot and sweaty with an unrelenting blistering that fought to overwhelm her senses.
“Just a little longer!” Drauglin yelled.
Naptali could not find the strength to respond verbally, her eyes looking helplessly at him with palpable suffering. Suddenly she felt her body lurch to the ground and her stomach heaved and violently expelled its contents. The acrid taste of bile filled her mouth and caused her insides to churn more, trying to rid itself of the unknown evil that wracked her.
She suddenly felt herself launched into the air, and saw a new multi-coloured stream flying towards her chest directly from the centre of the room. It hit her with indescribable agony, and she barely managed to avoid passing out immediately. “Drauglin!” Every fibre of her body provided fuel to the ear-splitting scream of pain and terror.
His expression was filled with utter dread, and immediately he turned his full attention towards her. She felt the burning of her skin subside slightly as the stream between them grew thicker, though it was obviously that Drauglin was now draining the magic from her.
“Hold on!” he yelled. “I’ll break the bond as soon as I can!” He moved his hands frantically as his eyes danced in spasm. Streaks of colour flashed into the air, forming a semi-transparent lattice as they flaked towards the centre of the room in disparate pieces.
Naptali felt her consciousness slipping from her grasp and the room fade into an insubstantial blur. It was as though she were ceasing to exist, burning away into sheer magical energy. It had transcended pain and she simply felt disjoint from her body, unable to feel emotion or sensation, merely sensing the phenomenal flows of magic in this alternate space.
She suddenly felt her feeling return as her body dropped to the hard floor. No longer suspended in space, her head landed with unbroken force on the cold stone. She could still see the streams of magic flowing around, Drauglin desperately trying to repel the large worm-like tube that was trying to push its way towards him.
The magician was beading with sweat over his entire body from exertion, desperately tearing off parts of the raw energy to reinforce the slowly growing lattice cage. The stream pushed ever closer, creeping with deadly intent to envelop him. Drauglin’s actions grew even more erratic, a wild flurry of hysterical movement to save his own life.
In an instant, the lattice closed and the malevolent force dissipated harmlessly into the air. Drauglin’s actions slowed gradually in pace, the lattice growing and layering itself in increasing depth. The unpredictable multi-coloured glare gave way to a constant, cooler glow as the magical beast became wrapped in an impenetrable weave.
An eternity seemed to pass before Drauglin finally stopped. He cast a final concerned look at Naptali, and then collapsed onto the ground with exhaustion. He looked at her blankly in his inert form. “Sorry I couldn’t help you faster.” The words were a bare hush before he passed out. Naptali felt herself losing her own struggle for consciousness, and saw the black edges of her vision meet and fold over until all sensation disappeared.
When she awoke in a hazy rush, her skin still felt on fire and her entire body throbbed with an unquenchable pain. Her insides felt as though they had been churned through, and her muscles swayed feebly. Naptali forced her eyes open under protest, and saw an unwelcome blur cloud her vision. She managed a soft groan of pain, and she felt a stopping sensation. It was strange because she had not even registered that she had been moving.
She was placed on the ground, and saw Drauglin looking down at her. “I didn’t expect you to be awake quite so quickly. You need more rest.”
Naptali tried to object, but her mouth fought and refused to make an intelligible sound. She realised she wasn’t even sure what words she wanted to say. Then a sudden wave of tiredness wracked her, and her eyes drooped to close.
“I’ll get us back to Lowelm. You’ll be able to recover there.”
Consciousness became an abstract concept for Naptali as they moved. She wasn’t sure where Drauglin was finding the strength to carry her and travel at the blurred speed she almost felt them travelling at. Night had fallen, but they still moved with great speed, and Drauglin’s main concern appeared to be getting to Lowelm as quickly as possible.
She eventually felt herself being lain down, and the comforting voice of Lowelm’s priest murmuring incomprehensibly. His reassuring tone was tinged with grave concern, but her body responded to his ministrations with welcome relief. Her eyes occasionally blinked open to see Drauglin’s worried form, hunched vigilantly by her side.
Eventually, a wave of cold struck Naptali with force, sapping the feeling of unnatural warmth that had tormented her. She searched vainly for a blanket as her eyes struggled against the recuperative sleep. Drauglin had collapsed from fatigue, by awoke with a start as he heard her rouse. “Why is it so cold in here?” she demanded.
“Glad to hear you’re okay,” he said groggily. Disappeared momentarily before placing a blanket over her and collapsing beside her again. If a sudden lack of energy had not stopped her, Naptali would have smiled.
By the time she woke again, Drauglin was gone. The priest looked back at her with his characteristic benevolence, making sure of her health. “Where is Drauglin?” she asked.
“He just left,” the man said. “But said to tell you that he’ll see you far too soon.”
Naptali gave an amused grunt. “I’m sure. And I’ll bet he’s right.”
They moved through the stone passages carefully, the cold silence interrupted only by their sound of their feet against the floor. Naptali held close to Drauglin, making sure she was not separated from the magical light that surrounded him. They moved through a series of interconnected chambers, each of them square and empty. The featureless void was disturbing, for the underground secret seemed home to nothing but stale air.
They made their way along a downward sloping tunnel, which eventually opened up to an octagonal room with a passage leading from each face. A large circular dais dominated this central room, flanked by eight pedestals, one for each corner of the room. A turquoise glow filled the room, acting as the visible partner for the embrace of icy air within.
Naptali shivered involuntarily. “Why is it so cold in here?”
Drauglin looked around for a few moments in silence. He walked around, inspecting the floor. “This was once used as a summoning chamber. There are still faint marks on the stone from it. The coldness is artificial, either for the summoning, or because of it. I don’t know which.” He looked at her. “Come. We need to look at these ante-chambers.”
“You might want to start with this one,” said Naptali, the distress audible in her voice.
Drauglin turned and peered to see that the small room Naptali had entered had lit up, exposing three dead bodies. One had been charred so badly it was only a blackened skeleton, another lying with a broken neck, a look of sheer horror upon the perfectly preserved face. The last was the most disturbing, for it was simply missing the top half of its body. It was as though its head and upper torso had simply disappeared.
“They killed each other with magic,” said Drauglin.
“But who was victorious?” Naptali asked.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “But I think we’re going to find out. Let’s look at the other rooms.”
They moved with a sense of urgency between the rooms. “Alchemical lab,” said Drauglin of the first. It was monopolised by a large table, with shelves on the walls holding all manner of glass apparatus. “Reagent room.” It appeared like a ramshackle arrangement of drawers, cupboards and chests. The fourth passage was a staircase, leading down an indeterminable distance deeper below. “We’ll look there later,” said Drauglin.
The next room was empty, followed by a chamber with small platforms that Drauglin explained were used for practicing spells. The last contained three bookshelves packed with heavy tomes. Two had been pulled out and lay on the small desk. Drauglin moved forward and looked at them. “Here,” he said. “Look at this.”
She looked at him frostily. “You know I never learned to read.”
“Sorry,” Drauglin replied. “They’re on summoning. This one appears to be some sort of journal.”
“Read them, then tell me,” Naptali said.
She waited silently as Drauglin read, a soft mutter occasionally escaping his lips as he flicked through the old pages. “It’s not clear,” he said softly.
“What?”
He looked at her frustrated. “The notes indicate they were trying to summon extraplanar creatures, but…”
“What’s an extraplanar creature?” asked Naptali.
“They don’t really exist. Or at least, not in a ‘solid’ sense like things that we know. They have to be forced into a corporeal form as they are summoned.”
“Next question,” she said. “Why?”
Drauglin smiled. “That’s easy. Power. The more difficult questions are ‘whom’ and when.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at these tomes,” he said. “You can see the fingermarks that have taken away the dust. At least on these two.” He turned to the bookshelf on his left and pulled a book from it. A plume of dust shot forth to accompany it. Once they stopped coughing, he spoke. “None of the other books have been touched. The dust alone says that they’ve been here for a long time. The almost unintelligible language means that they were also written then. But those dead magicians we saw, they didn’t write these. They only died recently.”
Naptali gave him a quizzical look. “What you’re saying is that those magicians did something to cause the disturbance and get themselves killed?”
“Exactly!” Drauglin said, clapping his hands together. “The worrying thing is, I’m not sure exactly what they disturbed. But it was nothing good.” Naptali gazed at him attentively, so he continued. “Whatever was originally summoned was too powerful for the summoners. The diary notes that there was a group of magicians, and several of them died trying to control it. The last entry indicates only that the author trapped ‘the beast’ permanently in a cage of magic.”
“Down the stairs?”
Drauglin nodded. “But I need to look in the reagent room first. The diary mentioned the use of crystals to drain its power. I have no idea what might be down those stairs, but I don’t want to go without those crystals.”
“Take all the time you need, Drauglin.” Naptali said. “I don’t like my chances at being able to hit something with my sword if it doesn’t have a body.”
Drauglin looked through the drawers carefully, and began pulling out long amber and violet crystals. “I think these are what we need,” he said. “They can store magical energy, and nothing else in here is remotely useful. At least, not anymore.” He picked up an unidentifiable ball that crumbled to dust between his fingers. Eventually, a total of eight crystals went into his small pack.
“Is that enough?” Naptali asked.
“It will have to be,” he replied.
“Then let’s go.” She walked towards the stairs calmly despite her terror of the unknown horror below.
The slow descent fuelled a growing unease that was suffocating in such close quarters. Neither of them spoke for fear of disturbing the cloying silence, as though it would be animated by the palpable magic that permeated their bodies. The feeling was nauseating in the way it emanated from everywhere, and each step seemed to cause more energy to rise and envelop them.
Naptali shuddered involuntarily and stopped. “I can’t stand it Drauglin.” she said.
“I know,” he replied. “It’s filling me as well.” His eyes glimmered with a vague aura of fear. “The magicians didn’t kill each other.” He said with a sudden note of realisation.
“They didn’t?”
Drauglin shook his head. “No. They killed themselves because they couldn’t control their magic.”
“You still can?” Naptali dreaded asking the question, but dreaded his answer more.
“At the moment.”
She inhaled worriedly. “It’s getting stronger, isn’t it?”
Drauglin nodded. “But we have to keep going.”
Naptali said nothing as she took another step down the long staircase. A soft, flickering colour was growing stronger as they moved down, distorting their perceptions even further. They finally saw the bottom of the staircase, and it appeared as though an ever-changing sun was captured below the earth.
They stepped forward into a massive chamber carved from the rock. It was impeccable in creation, a circular space with perfectly angled slopes carving a cone-shaped hollow into both the floor and ceiling. And within that vast emptiness was the blinding flurry of colour that was the source of the unrelenting light and energy. Naptali squinted as she tried to look at it directly, an act that felt as though it caused her physical pain.
“There’s far too much wild magical energy here,” said Drauglin. “Whatever is inside is trying to break free, and it doesn’t really care how it does it.”
“What do we do?” asked Naptali.
Drauglin held his finger to his lips and shut his eyes. Naptali could only wait as his eyes flickered wildly from underneath their closed lids. She could not imagine what he was doing, and was not sure that she wanted to.
“It’s as though this being exudes magic,” he said. “That’s what they needed the crystals for, to drain some of its essence and power before caging it.”
“There’s too much magic?”
“Yes, and I need to dissipate some of that energy first. Otherwise I don’t know what will happen when I try and strengthen the bonds.” Naptali had never seen Drauglin look so apprehensive about magic before, and it filled her with trepidation too. “I’m going to have to weaken the cage slightly and pull the energy from the ‘beast’ itself in order to do so.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Yes, but less so than trying to strengthen the cage as is it. Draining energy is a simple spell, but manipulating it into a cage…” Drauglin let his voice trail off.
The magician laid out the crystals on the floor in front of him. Standing bolt upright, he moved his arms in a circular motion and brought them in front of his chest. His fingers were splayed apart, with his thumbs barely apart and his palms directed at the crystals. The crystals began to glow faintly as Drauglin’s fingers became fiercely rigid. They lit up with ever increasing strength as Drauglin held his position for what seemed like an eternity.
The vague hum of energy filled the room with an oppressive air, as though it were demanding their silence. Naptali felt her head throb as the colour in the centre of the room grew stronger and thrashed more violently as time passed. The gentle glow of the crystals had swelled into a strong light source as Drauglin’s spell continued. As they approached a luminescence that nearly drowned out their original colour, Drauglin stopped.
He turned to Naptali. “They’re not enough.”
“What?” she asked, worriedly.
“I wasn’t able to drain enough energy into the crystals. There’s still too much magic for me to be able to strengthen the cage without the threat of killing us both and setting it free.”
Naptali beamed with pride as an idea entered her head. “Can we go find more crystals?”
Drauglin shook his head in resignation. “Those crystals aren’t easy to find, and I’ve weakened the cage too much. In the time it would take to get them, this thing would have broken free.”
The elf exhaled helplessly. “Then we best run as fast as we can and hope we get help in time.”
“I don’t know what it is, Naptali,” he said. “But I from what was written in that journal, we can’t let it get free. There’s one last option.”
“I’m not going to like it, am I?” Drauglin shook his head. “What is it?” she asked.
“I drain the magical energy into you. You’re a better vessel for it than anything else we could possibly find in time.”
Her expression was tinged with anger. “I don’t appreciate being called a vessel.”
“Sorry. Magical term,” said Drauglin. “I know it makes you feel sick, but the fact that you can feel the energy means that you can hold a lot of it, as though you were storing it to cast a spell.”
A wave of anticipatory sickness gushed over Naptali, but she knew Drauglin would not have suggested it except as a last, desperate resort. “Where should I stand?” she asked resignedly.
“There is fine,” he said. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
She nodded at Drauglin and saw his hands clench as his face turned harsh with concentration. He thrust an open hand in her direction and another towards the centre of the room, and suddenly beams of the kaleidoscope flow arced towards her through him. She felt the energy flowing into her from the visible stream that burst from Drauglin’s fingers. Each crest in the undulating wave assaulted her with a surge of nausea that made her want to vomit. Her skin felt hot and sweaty with an unrelenting blistering that fought to overwhelm her senses.
“Just a little longer!” Drauglin yelled.
Naptali could not find the strength to respond verbally, her eyes looking helplessly at him with palpable suffering. Suddenly she felt her body lurch to the ground and her stomach heaved and violently expelled its contents. The acrid taste of bile filled her mouth and caused her insides to churn more, trying to rid itself of the unknown evil that wracked her.
She suddenly felt herself launched into the air, and saw a new multi-coloured stream flying towards her chest directly from the centre of the room. It hit her with indescribable agony, and she barely managed to avoid passing out immediately. “Drauglin!” Every fibre of her body provided fuel to the ear-splitting scream of pain and terror.
His expression was filled with utter dread, and immediately he turned his full attention towards her. She felt the burning of her skin subside slightly as the stream between them grew thicker, though it was obviously that Drauglin was now draining the magic from her.
“Hold on!” he yelled. “I’ll break the bond as soon as I can!” He moved his hands frantically as his eyes danced in spasm. Streaks of colour flashed into the air, forming a semi-transparent lattice as they flaked towards the centre of the room in disparate pieces.
Naptali felt her consciousness slipping from her grasp and the room fade into an insubstantial blur. It was as though she were ceasing to exist, burning away into sheer magical energy. It had transcended pain and she simply felt disjoint from her body, unable to feel emotion or sensation, merely sensing the phenomenal flows of magic in this alternate space.
She suddenly felt her feeling return as her body dropped to the hard floor. No longer suspended in space, her head landed with unbroken force on the cold stone. She could still see the streams of magic flowing around, Drauglin desperately trying to repel the large worm-like tube that was trying to push its way towards him.
The magician was beading with sweat over his entire body from exertion, desperately tearing off parts of the raw energy to reinforce the slowly growing lattice cage. The stream pushed ever closer, creeping with deadly intent to envelop him. Drauglin’s actions grew even more erratic, a wild flurry of hysterical movement to save his own life.
In an instant, the lattice closed and the malevolent force dissipated harmlessly into the air. Drauglin’s actions slowed gradually in pace, the lattice growing and layering itself in increasing depth. The unpredictable multi-coloured glare gave way to a constant, cooler glow as the magical beast became wrapped in an impenetrable weave.
An eternity seemed to pass before Drauglin finally stopped. He cast a final concerned look at Naptali, and then collapsed onto the ground with exhaustion. He looked at her blankly in his inert form. “Sorry I couldn’t help you faster.” The words were a bare hush before he passed out. Naptali felt herself losing her own struggle for consciousness, and saw the black edges of her vision meet and fold over until all sensation disappeared.
When she awoke in a hazy rush, her skin still felt on fire and her entire body throbbed with an unquenchable pain. Her insides felt as though they had been churned through, and her muscles swayed feebly. Naptali forced her eyes open under protest, and saw an unwelcome blur cloud her vision. She managed a soft groan of pain, and she felt a stopping sensation. It was strange because she had not even registered that she had been moving.
She was placed on the ground, and saw Drauglin looking down at her. “I didn’t expect you to be awake quite so quickly. You need more rest.”
Naptali tried to object, but her mouth fought and refused to make an intelligible sound. She realised she wasn’t even sure what words she wanted to say. Then a sudden wave of tiredness wracked her, and her eyes drooped to close.
“I’ll get us back to Lowelm. You’ll be able to recover there.”
Consciousness became an abstract concept for Naptali as they moved. She wasn’t sure where Drauglin was finding the strength to carry her and travel at the blurred speed she almost felt them travelling at. Night had fallen, but they still moved with great speed, and Drauglin’s main concern appeared to be getting to Lowelm as quickly as possible.
She eventually felt herself being lain down, and the comforting voice of Lowelm’s priest murmuring incomprehensibly. His reassuring tone was tinged with grave concern, but her body responded to his ministrations with welcome relief. Her eyes occasionally blinked open to see Drauglin’s worried form, hunched vigilantly by her side.
Eventually, a wave of cold struck Naptali with force, sapping the feeling of unnatural warmth that had tormented her. She searched vainly for a blanket as her eyes struggled against the recuperative sleep. Drauglin had collapsed from fatigue, by awoke with a start as he heard her rouse. “Why is it so cold in here?” she demanded.
“Glad to hear you’re okay,” he said groggily. Disappeared momentarily before placing a blanket over her and collapsing beside her again. If a sudden lack of energy had not stopped her, Naptali would have smiled.
By the time she woke again, Drauglin was gone. The priest looked back at her with his characteristic benevolence, making sure of her health. “Where is Drauglin?” she asked.
“He just left,” the man said. “But said to tell you that he’ll see you far too soon.”
Naptali gave an amused grunt. “I’m sure. And I’ll bet he’s right.”
Wednesday, 27 June 2007
Lowelm's Shadow (Part 1) (Original)
And now for a bit of a change of pace. Fantasy is considered by some to be a lesser art of writing, because it's "easy" (at least to write bad, potentially publishable fantasy) and because the writer gets to make up their own rules for just about everything. And then they get to break those rules using magic. I would agree, but also argue that the art of writing good fantasy is very difficult, because you have to maintain consistency and develop the entire history, pantheon, social structure, etc, in order to present an engrossing and believable world.
But I digress. As a short story, it is largely devoid of the connections to the greater world, history, and all those good qualities I just espoused. But, rest assured, it does belong to such a world, and I hope to write more from it in the future. Also, this is the first part of the short story. I'm still working on completing it, but given what I've written so far clocks in at around 2,200 words, I thought it would be best to post it in two parts.
Naptali whirled as a threatening noise cracked forth from the natural thrum of the forest. Her long, burnished hair rippled with unease as a strange energy coursed in the air. Birds became silent and flittered away, while the soft thumping of feet spoke the retreat of deer and rabbits. Her elven ears pricked tightly, Naptali drew her sword with soft hands, unsheathing it without a single whisper against its scabbard. A faint hint twitched through Naptali’s body, telling her the source of the disturbance: magic.
Her footsteps barely left a touch on the wild grass, practiced movement meaning she was silent and untraceable. The trees rustled with grave warning, letting their friend know of an impending danger, all the while trying to conceal her presence. Whatever was stalking her, Naptali could tell it was close. It was moving cautiously, yet with not enough stealth, and she ducked quickly into a seemingly impenetrable growth of spiked bushes with untold ease.
The unknown foe approached as Naptali crouched at the ready, and suddenly a figure stepped before her invisible hiding place. In an instant Naptali was on her feet and had her sword point at her opponent’s throat.
The man stopped deadly still as he felt the sharp tip against the side of his neck. His dark eyes moved sideways to look at her nervously while rooted in place. Brushing the top of his hood back slowly with his left hand, he gave a puzzled look. “How in the world do you do that?” He asked incredulously. “And is that any way to greet an old friend, Naptali?”
“Drauglin!” She said with a great smile. He sheathed her sword and kissed him lightly on the cheek before embracing him. “It’s been too long, friend.”
“Indeed it has, my dear elf,” his look of worry giving way to a warm smirk. “Though, of course, I have to envy that you still look like someone I wish I could court.”
“Don’t be foolish, Drauglin,” she admonished him. “If you wanted to court me, not even your magic would give you the power to speak even one intelligent word!”
Both of them had been young when she had first met the powerful magician, and no matter how many years passed, neither of them could forget his painfully inept attempts to woo a young girl on that first occasion. It had been a running joke between the two of them ever since. Drauglin grimaced in mock anguish at Naptali’s barb and sighed. “Ah, a precious flower you would be to me, dare I to pluck you and offer my kind heart.”
“That’s more like it,” said Naptali with a grin. “But how come I’m lucky enough to see you here?”
Drauglin’s faced dropped. “I wouldn’t exactly consider it luck. That would probably be the last word I would use.”
Naptali knew the graveness of his tone spoke of a deep-seated worry. It was a voice that was reserved for matters of importance, matters that could affect the futures of many. She gave a concerned look East to the town of Lowelm, a community that had long been under her protection, and her home. “Come,” she said to Drauglin. “Whatever it is that you have to tell me, it would be best said in my home.”
“But,” began Drauglin.
“No,” she insisted. “It is late in the day already. And whatever it is can wait until we return there.” He nodded in reluctant acquiescence. “Besides,” Naptali added with a knowing look, “I’m guessing we’re going to need supplies for wherever it is we’re going.”
The two reached the small town just as night began to fall. Knowing Drauglin would not wish to attract significant attention to himself, she took him directly to her home. She moved quickly about the house and lit several lamps to combat the fading light. Offering him a seat, she sat down and looked at him concerned. “I’m worried that I might have an idea why you are here,” she said.
Drauglin appraised her cautiously. “What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything,” she replied. “Not for certain. I just know that I felt something about a week ago. It was big.”
“Magical?” He exhaled pointedly as Naptali nodded. For reasons Drauglin didn’t know, Naptali was strangely attuned to magic energy, despite that she was unable to use it. That she had felt something was worrying.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” She inquired.
“It was a release of magical energy,” Drauglin explained. “Or rather, being violently dissipated. Near the old ruins to the south.”
“I’d often thought to ask you about those,” said Naptali. “Though I suppose you probably would have dodged the question.”
Drauglin smiled. “Possibly, but generally I’m evasive for your own good. But in this case, until recently I wouldn’t have been able answer you. It was only because of that something that I found out what was there. Many things are forgotten and become secrets for a reason.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “What kind of reason?”
“Because they are dangerous things for people to know.” Drauglin’s voice had reassumed that flat, serious tone. “But sometimes they must be remembered. So that something can be done about them.”
“Stop speaking in riddles,” Naptali growled. “What is this secret?”
“To be honest?” Drauglin paused. He ran a hand slowly back through his cropped, greying hair and sighed. “I don’t know. All I know is that something is there. And it is nothing good.”
“You’ve got to give me more than that, Drauglin!” She exclaimed.
“I wish I could,” he said. “But I don’t know what it is. I just know that there is a lot of magical energy being disturbed. And there’s some kind of underground complex.”
“How do you know all this?” Naptali asked, her face hard.
“I felt that disturbance too. From a lot further away.” His eyes were flooded with concern. “I found the entrance yesterday. I walked only a short distance inside before I saw a corpse. The injuries it had sustained, it had to have been caused by magic.”
“I understand,” she said flatly. “We’ll leave tomorrow. I’ll ready my weapons and get supplies.”
“That’s it?” Drauglin asked.
“What else is there to say?” she replied. “I’ll make sure the town is prepared in case we don’t return.”
“You have a very bleak outlook at times, did you know that, Naptali?”
It was Naptali’s turn to answer with a dark tone. “Not all of us have magic to alter our destiny.”
She was glad Drauglin knew her well enough to answer only with silence.
They woke early the next day. They ate a full breakfast in a wisp of sunlight, and set off before it was fully risen. Both carried a small pack of food supplies, and Naptali carried her sword and bow. She had offered Drauglin a lightweight weapon, but he produced an ornate dagger and refused.
“No offence, Naptali, but if I have to use this, I doubt whatever you can offer will protect me more.” Her simple shrug was the only natural reply.
The hours of walking passed with light conversation, with both recounting events since they had last met. Drauglin shadowed Naptali, for her natural affinity with the forest produced an easy path for him to follow. Across the light scrub she found flat ground, through the trees she made a straight path, and in dense brush she trod an invisible track through seemingly impenetrable vegetation.
“Naptali, I think you have your own kind of magic in weaving through this forest,” Drauglin commented. She stared back with a blank expression, an icy disposition lurking beneath the surface.
“Sorry,” he apologised. “I know how you feel about magic.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, and then continued walking in silence.
A few moments later, Naptali came to an abrupt halt. Drauglin, with his head still partially down to avoid her gaze, bumped into her back. She gave a short curse as she grabbed onto a sapling. Her body teetered forward over the steep bank of a river, the small tree stretching painfully under her weight. Drauglin recovered quickly from his surprise and grabbed her free arm, tugging her back from the edge.
“Thank you,” she said. “Though it helps if you look where you’re going.”
He gave her a sheepish expression, and then looked at the river. “I don’t remember this.”
Naptali looked at him quizzically. “I’m not sure how you missed it,” she said. “It’s virtually impossible to cover this territory without crossing it.” She looked left and right in vague annoyance. “But I thought it narrowed enough that we could leap it somewhere around here.”
“Why don’t we just wade through?” Drauglin asked.
Naptali scanned the river for a moment then pointed a finger at the water. Drauglin followed her motion to a patch of shade. Just as he was about to speak, a bird dived down and skimmed the surface of the smooth river. In an instant, the dark patch darted forth and a mouth filled with teeth emerged from the surface. A flash of those stained daggers enveloped the hapless bird and disappeared like a nightmare beneath the impenetrable murk.
“Good answer,” said Drauglin.
“Come on.” Naptali motioned for him to follow her.
“No,” he said. “My turn to find the path.” He signalled for her to come to him. “Take my hand.”
“What?” She asked. “Why?” She grimaced as her hand clasped his. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Probably not,” he answered.
Naptali felt her stomach churn as Drauglin’s eyes gave a brief look of concentration. Time felt as though it were slowed down and the air crackled with a silent sound that Naptali knew was magic. She almost felt compelled to shut her eyes, but she kept them open and saw the colours of the scenery warp into a green mud. As the blur cleared, Naptali saw they were on the opposite side of the bank
“Next time I won’t ask,” she said. “Though it still doesn’t solve the problem that I’m now not sure exactly where we are.”
“That’s not a problem either,” said Drauglin. “I know where we need to go.” He concentrated for a moment, and Naptali felt the distinct unease of magic pulse through her. “It’s that way.” Drauglin pointed a finger slightly to their left. “And it’s not very far away.” Naptali shook off the unnatural feeling of Drauglin’s spell and started moving in the direction that he had pointed.
The sun had already passed its peak and they had still not eaten since morning, so a trace of hunger lingered in Naptali’s stomach. She had a vague desire to stop and eat, but black clouds loomed with malice, so grabbed an apple from her pack and ate as they moved. She felt an uncomfortable itch on her skin for an instant, and turned back to see Drauglin with a peeled orange in his hand. “Can’t you use your hands like normal people?” She asked.
Naptali had almost finished her apple when they came to the clearing. The forest suddenly gave way to erratic grassland dotted with the remnants of buildings. The ruins were an oddity amongst the substantial foliage, for they marked an otherwise interrupted wilderness. There was something amiss in its presence, its silence dissonant against the typical murmur of the forest.
Naptali felt a chill rush through her body involuntarily, and looked at Drauglin accusingly.
“That wasn’t me,” he said worriedly. “I’m not sure where it came from.” His eyes glazed in concentration for an instant. “There’s nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?” Naptali asked.
“I can’t feel or see anything,” Drauglin replied. “There’s nothing around here that…” He suddenly looked at Naptali in shock as they both felt a massive surge of energy.
“What was that?” she exclaimed.
“We need to get to that complex. It’s coming from inside.” Drauglin’s tone was severe.
“You didn’t answer my question,” said Naptali.
“I’ll give you the answer when I know it,” he replied. “Follow me.”
They moved with measured urgency, eager to find the source of the disturbance, but also wary of its possible danger. Drauglin led with the confidence of conviction, his normally troubled step finding easy purchase on the undulating terrain. His steps travelled in a near straight line, his faultless memory taking them directly to a near invisible arrangement of stones near the edge of the clearing. “Here,” he said.
Naptali looked around, confused. “I don’t see anything.”
“Not yet,” Drauglin replied. A soft whisper parted his lips as his hand made a small circular motion at the stones embedded in the ground. Three pale flashes of light sprung forth from his hand and danced around the rocks. Their spirals lasted momentarily, then burnt out into nothingness.
Naptali stood bewildered for an instant, before her expression turned to one of amazement as the ground began to shimmer and fade before her eyes. The grass disappeared to show a small staircase of stone leading into darkness underground.
“A concealed entrance?” She asked incredulously.
“The mark of a secret that is supposed to be forgotten,” Drauglin said.
Naptali gave him an admonishing look. “Not everything can be fixed by hiding it.”
“Then let us determine which one of the two this is.” He motioned for her to go down. “Quickly, let's move.”
---------- To be concluded
But I digress. As a short story, it is largely devoid of the connections to the greater world, history, and all those good qualities I just espoused. But, rest assured, it does belong to such a world, and I hope to write more from it in the future. Also, this is the first part of the short story. I'm still working on completing it, but given what I've written so far clocks in at around 2,200 words, I thought it would be best to post it in two parts.
Naptali whirled as a threatening noise cracked forth from the natural thrum of the forest. Her long, burnished hair rippled with unease as a strange energy coursed in the air. Birds became silent and flittered away, while the soft thumping of feet spoke the retreat of deer and rabbits. Her elven ears pricked tightly, Naptali drew her sword with soft hands, unsheathing it without a single whisper against its scabbard. A faint hint twitched through Naptali’s body, telling her the source of the disturbance: magic.
Her footsteps barely left a touch on the wild grass, practiced movement meaning she was silent and untraceable. The trees rustled with grave warning, letting their friend know of an impending danger, all the while trying to conceal her presence. Whatever was stalking her, Naptali could tell it was close. It was moving cautiously, yet with not enough stealth, and she ducked quickly into a seemingly impenetrable growth of spiked bushes with untold ease.
The unknown foe approached as Naptali crouched at the ready, and suddenly a figure stepped before her invisible hiding place. In an instant Naptali was on her feet and had her sword point at her opponent’s throat.
The man stopped deadly still as he felt the sharp tip against the side of his neck. His dark eyes moved sideways to look at her nervously while rooted in place. Brushing the top of his hood back slowly with his left hand, he gave a puzzled look. “How in the world do you do that?” He asked incredulously. “And is that any way to greet an old friend, Naptali?”
“Drauglin!” She said with a great smile. He sheathed her sword and kissed him lightly on the cheek before embracing him. “It’s been too long, friend.”
“Indeed it has, my dear elf,” his look of worry giving way to a warm smirk. “Though, of course, I have to envy that you still look like someone I wish I could court.”
“Don’t be foolish, Drauglin,” she admonished him. “If you wanted to court me, not even your magic would give you the power to speak even one intelligent word!”
Both of them had been young when she had first met the powerful magician, and no matter how many years passed, neither of them could forget his painfully inept attempts to woo a young girl on that first occasion. It had been a running joke between the two of them ever since. Drauglin grimaced in mock anguish at Naptali’s barb and sighed. “Ah, a precious flower you would be to me, dare I to pluck you and offer my kind heart.”
“That’s more like it,” said Naptali with a grin. “But how come I’m lucky enough to see you here?”
Drauglin’s faced dropped. “I wouldn’t exactly consider it luck. That would probably be the last word I would use.”
Naptali knew the graveness of his tone spoke of a deep-seated worry. It was a voice that was reserved for matters of importance, matters that could affect the futures of many. She gave a concerned look East to the town of Lowelm, a community that had long been under her protection, and her home. “Come,” she said to Drauglin. “Whatever it is that you have to tell me, it would be best said in my home.”
“But,” began Drauglin.
“No,” she insisted. “It is late in the day already. And whatever it is can wait until we return there.” He nodded in reluctant acquiescence. “Besides,” Naptali added with a knowing look, “I’m guessing we’re going to need supplies for wherever it is we’re going.”
The two reached the small town just as night began to fall. Knowing Drauglin would not wish to attract significant attention to himself, she took him directly to her home. She moved quickly about the house and lit several lamps to combat the fading light. Offering him a seat, she sat down and looked at him concerned. “I’m worried that I might have an idea why you are here,” she said.
Drauglin appraised her cautiously. “What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything,” she replied. “Not for certain. I just know that I felt something about a week ago. It was big.”
“Magical?” He exhaled pointedly as Naptali nodded. For reasons Drauglin didn’t know, Naptali was strangely attuned to magic energy, despite that she was unable to use it. That she had felt something was worrying.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” She inquired.
“It was a release of magical energy,” Drauglin explained. “Or rather, being violently dissipated. Near the old ruins to the south.”
“I’d often thought to ask you about those,” said Naptali. “Though I suppose you probably would have dodged the question.”
Drauglin smiled. “Possibly, but generally I’m evasive for your own good. But in this case, until recently I wouldn’t have been able answer you. It was only because of that something that I found out what was there. Many things are forgotten and become secrets for a reason.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “What kind of reason?”
“Because they are dangerous things for people to know.” Drauglin’s voice had reassumed that flat, serious tone. “But sometimes they must be remembered. So that something can be done about them.”
“Stop speaking in riddles,” Naptali growled. “What is this secret?”
“To be honest?” Drauglin paused. He ran a hand slowly back through his cropped, greying hair and sighed. “I don’t know. All I know is that something is there. And it is nothing good.”
“You’ve got to give me more than that, Drauglin!” She exclaimed.
“I wish I could,” he said. “But I don’t know what it is. I just know that there is a lot of magical energy being disturbed. And there’s some kind of underground complex.”
“How do you know all this?” Naptali asked, her face hard.
“I felt that disturbance too. From a lot further away.” His eyes were flooded with concern. “I found the entrance yesterday. I walked only a short distance inside before I saw a corpse. The injuries it had sustained, it had to have been caused by magic.”
“I understand,” she said flatly. “We’ll leave tomorrow. I’ll ready my weapons and get supplies.”
“That’s it?” Drauglin asked.
“What else is there to say?” she replied. “I’ll make sure the town is prepared in case we don’t return.”
“You have a very bleak outlook at times, did you know that, Naptali?”
It was Naptali’s turn to answer with a dark tone. “Not all of us have magic to alter our destiny.”
She was glad Drauglin knew her well enough to answer only with silence.
They woke early the next day. They ate a full breakfast in a wisp of sunlight, and set off before it was fully risen. Both carried a small pack of food supplies, and Naptali carried her sword and bow. She had offered Drauglin a lightweight weapon, but he produced an ornate dagger and refused.
“No offence, Naptali, but if I have to use this, I doubt whatever you can offer will protect me more.” Her simple shrug was the only natural reply.
The hours of walking passed with light conversation, with both recounting events since they had last met. Drauglin shadowed Naptali, for her natural affinity with the forest produced an easy path for him to follow. Across the light scrub she found flat ground, through the trees she made a straight path, and in dense brush she trod an invisible track through seemingly impenetrable vegetation.
“Naptali, I think you have your own kind of magic in weaving through this forest,” Drauglin commented. She stared back with a blank expression, an icy disposition lurking beneath the surface.
“Sorry,” he apologised. “I know how you feel about magic.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, and then continued walking in silence.
A few moments later, Naptali came to an abrupt halt. Drauglin, with his head still partially down to avoid her gaze, bumped into her back. She gave a short curse as she grabbed onto a sapling. Her body teetered forward over the steep bank of a river, the small tree stretching painfully under her weight. Drauglin recovered quickly from his surprise and grabbed her free arm, tugging her back from the edge.
“Thank you,” she said. “Though it helps if you look where you’re going.”
He gave her a sheepish expression, and then looked at the river. “I don’t remember this.”
Naptali looked at him quizzically. “I’m not sure how you missed it,” she said. “It’s virtually impossible to cover this territory without crossing it.” She looked left and right in vague annoyance. “But I thought it narrowed enough that we could leap it somewhere around here.”
“Why don’t we just wade through?” Drauglin asked.
Naptali scanned the river for a moment then pointed a finger at the water. Drauglin followed her motion to a patch of shade. Just as he was about to speak, a bird dived down and skimmed the surface of the smooth river. In an instant, the dark patch darted forth and a mouth filled with teeth emerged from the surface. A flash of those stained daggers enveloped the hapless bird and disappeared like a nightmare beneath the impenetrable murk.
“Good answer,” said Drauglin.
“Come on.” Naptali motioned for him to follow her.
“No,” he said. “My turn to find the path.” He signalled for her to come to him. “Take my hand.”
“What?” She asked. “Why?” She grimaced as her hand clasped his. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Probably not,” he answered.
Naptali felt her stomach churn as Drauglin’s eyes gave a brief look of concentration. Time felt as though it were slowed down and the air crackled with a silent sound that Naptali knew was magic. She almost felt compelled to shut her eyes, but she kept them open and saw the colours of the scenery warp into a green mud. As the blur cleared, Naptali saw they were on the opposite side of the bank
“Next time I won’t ask,” she said. “Though it still doesn’t solve the problem that I’m now not sure exactly where we are.”
“That’s not a problem either,” said Drauglin. “I know where we need to go.” He concentrated for a moment, and Naptali felt the distinct unease of magic pulse through her. “It’s that way.” Drauglin pointed a finger slightly to their left. “And it’s not very far away.” Naptali shook off the unnatural feeling of Drauglin’s spell and started moving in the direction that he had pointed.
The sun had already passed its peak and they had still not eaten since morning, so a trace of hunger lingered in Naptali’s stomach. She had a vague desire to stop and eat, but black clouds loomed with malice, so grabbed an apple from her pack and ate as they moved. She felt an uncomfortable itch on her skin for an instant, and turned back to see Drauglin with a peeled orange in his hand. “Can’t you use your hands like normal people?” She asked.
Naptali had almost finished her apple when they came to the clearing. The forest suddenly gave way to erratic grassland dotted with the remnants of buildings. The ruins were an oddity amongst the substantial foliage, for they marked an otherwise interrupted wilderness. There was something amiss in its presence, its silence dissonant against the typical murmur of the forest.
Naptali felt a chill rush through her body involuntarily, and looked at Drauglin accusingly.
“That wasn’t me,” he said worriedly. “I’m not sure where it came from.” His eyes glazed in concentration for an instant. “There’s nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?” Naptali asked.
“I can’t feel or see anything,” Drauglin replied. “There’s nothing around here that…” He suddenly looked at Naptali in shock as they both felt a massive surge of energy.
“What was that?” she exclaimed.
“We need to get to that complex. It’s coming from inside.” Drauglin’s tone was severe.
“You didn’t answer my question,” said Naptali.
“I’ll give you the answer when I know it,” he replied. “Follow me.”
They moved with measured urgency, eager to find the source of the disturbance, but also wary of its possible danger. Drauglin led with the confidence of conviction, his normally troubled step finding easy purchase on the undulating terrain. His steps travelled in a near straight line, his faultless memory taking them directly to a near invisible arrangement of stones near the edge of the clearing. “Here,” he said.
Naptali looked around, confused. “I don’t see anything.”
“Not yet,” Drauglin replied. A soft whisper parted his lips as his hand made a small circular motion at the stones embedded in the ground. Three pale flashes of light sprung forth from his hand and danced around the rocks. Their spirals lasted momentarily, then burnt out into nothingness.
Naptali stood bewildered for an instant, before her expression turned to one of amazement as the ground began to shimmer and fade before her eyes. The grass disappeared to show a small staircase of stone leading into darkness underground.
“A concealed entrance?” She asked incredulously.
“The mark of a secret that is supposed to be forgotten,” Drauglin said.
Naptali gave him an admonishing look. “Not everything can be fixed by hiding it.”
“Then let us determine which one of the two this is.” He motioned for her to go down. “Quickly, let's move.”
---------- To be concluded
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