It had been nearly four cycles since the meeting with the Ivartar tribe. In that time, the Erantu hunters had begun training in ernest, the news of the coming war now common knowledge amongst our tribe. I myself had been attempting to improve my magic, training day in and day out with Elder Ragna. “Not like that Calder, you must picture yourself freezing the pot of water.” It seemed over these four cycles, Elder Ragna had grown to enjoy yelling at me. I was currently training to learn to freeze a pot of boiling water. Having already mastered warm water, Elder said that to improve the quality of ice I produce, I needed to be able to freeze substances of any temperature. “Ok, that's it, I can’t go on any longer,” I said, collapsing onto the floor of the gathering hall, completely out of breath. I had been attempting to freeze the same pot of water for a week now, with little success. “Alright Calder, that’s enough for now, go and take a break. You will try again later. I want you to master this by the end of tomorrow,” the old women said.
I left the gathering hall, my head slightly throbbing from overusing my magic. I headed to Father’s tent, hoping to rest for a while, though upon entering the tent, I was greeted by a highly unexpected sight. Mother and Alfhild were both in the tent, mother in her usual fur lined skirt. Alfhild, on the other hand, was sporting a familiar suit of hunter leathers and a slightly ragged fur cloak. She was also equipped with my old dagger and bow. I recognized all of that gear, it was the first set of hunting equipment I ever received from Father. “Mother, what is going on,” I asked, quite puzzled by the sight of my younger cousin in a hunting outfit. “You sound like your Father,” Mother said. “Alfhild said she wanted to learn how to hunt and fight. The armor was a little large for her, but with a bit of adjustments, it fits perfectly. I figured you would not mind since you have your magic and all.” While it was true that the gear she was wearing was stuff I no longer had a use for, that was not the problem i had. So I rephrase my question. “Alfhild, why do you want to learn to hunt, there should be no need for a girl like you to have to do that.”
Alfhild looked at me, taken aback by my slight resistance to her learning to wield weapons. “Uncle Keldi said the same thing. I just want to fight to protect everyone as well. It’s not like I’m asking to fight in the war. When all the men leave in a few years to fight, who will protect the village while they are gone?” She brought up a good point. Most of the men would likely be taken away to fight once the war started. That meant the women would have to learn to fight, hunt and defend themselves.
“Fine then Alfhild, come outside now, but leave the dagger and bow. I know of a better weapon for you.” The girl followed me outside. Once we were in the middle of the village, I made an axe out of ice and threw it over to the girl. It was roughly as large as she was and incredibly heavy, though the girl caught it with ease. “Alfhild, attack me with that axe, don’t worry about hurting me, just attack.” The girl, slightly unsure about this turn of events, swung the axe. She effortlessly wielded the heavy weapon, her physical strength far greater than what her small body showed. Still, I was able to easily dodge her attacks. Again and again she attacked me, missing over and over. She eventually ran out of breath after a few attacks and dropped to the ground. “Calder, why are we doing this,” she whined. I kneeled down and pat her on the head. “You said you wanted to learn to fight right. Until the war starts, as time permits, I will train you and make sure you can defend the village by the time I leave for war.” The girls face lit up with joy. I doubt Father would like Alfhild learning to fight, but she inherited Uncle Esborn’s amazing physical prowess and battle instincts, it would be a waste to let such talent remain unpolished.
“Anyways Alfhild, that should be enough for now. When I can’t train you, ask mother. She’s quite skilled with weapons and would be more than willing to give you some pointers.” We both headed back to the tent; our stomachs growling from the workout. I hadn’t eaten all day and I bet it was the same for Alfhild. With so much happening lately, there was little time for rest, let alone eat and sleep, even for us children. Walking into the tent, we could smell Mothers delicious cooking. From the smell, it had to be a good venison stew; we all sat down to eat. However, before I could even take a bite, a young hunter of the tribe barged into the tent.
“What is the meaning of this trespass,” Mother yelled at the young man, immediately standing up rather threateningly. “I didn't mean to intrude milady, its just… well.” The boy was obviously scared; Mother tended to have that effect on people. “Well, out with it,” she screeched. The young man turned to me, “Master Calder, a messenger from the Ivartar is here to see you. He is in the gathering hall, please meet him there.” Without another word, the boy ran before he had the chance to feel Mother’s wrath. “Well Calder, what are you waiting for, go meet the messenger.” Mother was now yelling at me. I looked longingly at my stew, my stomach making more sounds. “NOW!!!” I ran out the door, not bothering to even put on my cloak, running straight to the gathering hall.
Once there, Father, Elder and a man wearing a hooded cloak were gathered. “It's about damn time you finally got here brat,” a familiar voice said from beneath the hood. “Pippin, is that you,” I asked, glad to see the Ivartar Head Hunter again. “Let's not waste time on pleasantries. Chief Arnbion has decided on the place for the Summit,” the hunter said, removing his hood, showing his shaggy head of messy, black hair. “So where are we meeting and when,” Father asked him. “We will be meeting in two cycles, on the night when the Lovita hids in the shadow of Manatu,” Days here were told by the position of the moons. “The Summit will be held at the Grand Gathering Grounds, at Na Forais Bhailiú.” Hearing that name made me remember Elder Ragna’s old history lessons she used to make me sit through.
Long before the tribes called these mountains home, the entire Northern Mountain had been home to a vast and expansive kingdom. They had built a great number of monuments in these mountains, many of which now lay in ruins. However, one structure that still shows the might of that once great kingdom still stood to this day, enduring the battering winds of the mountains and the corrosion of time. That was Na Forais Bhailiú, often called the Gathering Grounds or Grand Gathering Hall. This place was holy land for the nomads of the mountain; it was forbidden by ancient law to fight within those grounds. Because of that law, it was the perfect location for the Summit. “How many tribes have agreed to attend,” I asked Pippin. “Quite a few. The most surprising one being the Lokvan, no one thought those savages would ever bother coming to something like this. We half expected them to try and fight the Empire on their own to be honest with you.” We all laughed at the reamark.
“Well, it’s good that attendance for the Summit is rather high. Hopefully we can get all the tribes to work together. My biggest fear is trying just get through the Summit with all of us alive,” I said. “With the Lokvan being the most troublesome of all. Good luck trying to get them to corporate,” Pippin said as he rose from his seat. “Not my problem though. I should be heading back, lots to do and not a lot of time to do it. See you at the Summit Calder, Keldi, Elder.” Rushing out the door, Pippin was gone as fast as he had arrived. “Well Father, how long until we leave for the Summit,” I asked. “I would say about one cycle. If the Summit is taking place in two cycles, we will want plenty of time to make it to Na Forais Bhailiú.” One cycle till we left, that gave me time to get better still with my magic and my arm. “Elder, can we resume my training right away,” I asked the old women. She nodded and we prepared to start again right away. “Don’t neglect to train you body as well Calder, we can’t have you getting soft because you rely too much on your magic,” Father added in.
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“Cmon, is that all you guys have. At this rate you won’t last even one day out in the Northern mountains. The natives up there are ruthless and kill on sight.” The young High Paladin Elizabeth Duvark was standing in front of a large group of knight, all of them out of breath. “Maybe you should hold back on them a bit sister,” Blake said, observing from the corner of the courtyard where the training was taking place. “I can’t go soft on them Blake, I am their commander and a commander must take charge of the lives of her troops. I will not have any soldiers in my legion who are too weak to survive even the harshest of environments. We don’t have the time nor resources for weakness.” At these words, the soldiers prepared to launch another assault. “We won’t give up here,” one of the knights yelled, leading the charge towards the High Paladin.
“That's more like it,” she said with a smirk. Raising her giant lance in front of herself, Elizabeth charged towards the large group of knights. The moment they made contact, the spear sent the ,em flying with little to no effort. “Well I guess that is enough for now boys,” Elizabeth said. “All of you take the rest of the day off, tomorrow we have joint training with Grandfather’s second legion so don’t even think about being late.” Blake and Elizabeth left the courtyard and entered into the attached mansion, the group of knights still sprawled out on the ground, unable to move from exhaustion. This was the Duvark family manor, a massive building with dozens of rooms and a small army of servants. One of the maids walked up to Elizabeth. “Milady, a bath has been drawn for you, please go and wash off the muck,” the maid said. Elizabeth nodded, handing her oversized lance to the maid, she headed to the bath.
“Blake, will you wait outside for me and make sure no one enters while I am bathing,” she ordered her younger brother. “Understood sister. After your bath, will you train me though?” The boys face was filled with hope. Elizabeth gave in to the boys demand, “Very well, after my bath, let me rest for a bit and then I will spar with you. It will be better training than fighting more of those weak knights.” Elizabeth entered into the bathroom while her brother waited in the hall.
While Elizabeth bathed, the nine year old Blake practiced sword swings in the hallway. The boy wielded a massive blade, one that was far larger than he himself was. He effortlessly swung the blade, possessing an immense amounts of physical strength despite his skinny appearance. Suddenly, Blake heard a girl’s scream from the bathroom and the shattering of glass. Rushing in, sword in hand, he saw four hooded men, all bearing daggers, standing over his sister. She was at a compleat disadvantage naked and unarmed. Blake rushed at the four men. “Leave her alone,” he yelled at them. The men turned their attention to Blake.
The four assassins quickly surrounded the boy, all lunging at him simultaneously. A flurry of furious slashes stuck him, the knives of the assassins dripping with poison. After several moments of attack, the assassins jumped back. Blake still stood there, seemingly unfazed by the attack. “Are you done,” he said, glaring at the assassins. “If so, let me have some fun.” The boy ripped off his cut up shirt, revealing muscles honed to the limit and not a scratch on his body. “How, how are you uninjured,” one of the assassins yelled at Blake. The boy rushed at the one that spoke and, in one fell swoop of his blade, cut the man clean in half, blood splattering all over. “It’s nothing special really,” the boy said. “It’s magic. Members of the Duvark family are magic knights, we all know how to use basic shielding spells you know.”
The other three would be assassins attempted to run out the broken window they had used to enter. “Not so fast, we're not finished yet,” Blake said, stabbing his sword into the ground. The moment his sword entered the ground, pillars of bones and rotting flesh emerged from the fine, marble floor covering the windows and door. “Blake, could you not use your necromancy here please, it really leaves a foul odor that is a nightmare to remove,” Elizabeth said. “Sorry sister, I’ll have this finished quickly.” Elizabeth got out of the water and began drying off as if nothing was happening. “Very well, you have until I get dressed to dispatch them.” Blake removed his sword from the floor and took his stance. The assassins, having given up on escape, dashed at Blake one more time. Without hesitation, Blake proceeded to swiftly cut down all three men.
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“Are you alright sister,” Blake said, approaching the now clothed Elizabeth. “Yes, I am fine Blake, though you didn’t need to come and save me, I could have taken out fools of that level on my own. I was merely startled by their sudden appearance” The boy smiled. “I know, but I still worry you know. At least let me help you in little ways like this.” Elizabeth sighed. “Have it your way,” she said, walking out of the bathroom. She went up to the maids stationed outside the bathroom. “We had another attack, four this time, please clean up the mess,” she asked the maids. They merely bowed and proceeded into the bathroom, though that was followed by loud squeals. “Master Blake, could you please remove these stinking, piles of death, they really smell,” on of the maids yelled from inside the bathroom, clearly more upset by the necromancy than the four dead bodies. “Sorry about that,” Blake said while smiling in embarrassment. He tapped his sword on the ground, the sound of the pillars of bone receding was easily audible throughout the whole mansion.
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After a cycle long journey through the snow, Father, Elder and I all arrived at the destination of the Summit, Na Forais Bhailiú. As we approached the large, iron gates, I gasped in amazement. “To think that a kingdom really did flourished here at one time,” I said aloud. “That was long ago Calder, this structure is about all that remains. What led to the destruction of that kingdom is unknown, but that area of study is not my forte. If you are interested on the subject, I suggest you ask Relith about it, he is well versed in ancient history and lore, as you already know.” A man stood at the gatehouse, his emblem showing he was of the Ivartar. “Which tribe are you with,” the gateman asked. Father stepped forward. “I am Keldi Erantu. With me is my son, Calder, and the Erantu Elder, Ragna, we have come to attend the Summit.”
The gateman examined us for a moment from the gate house. “Representatives of the Erantu Tribe, you are the last to arrive, please enter. Inside will be someone to guide you.” The gate opened and the three of us entered, greeted by large walls of stone and bright burning torches. Walking through the long entryway, we could make out someone at the end of the hall. “Greetings friends, it’s been sometime,” said a familiar, bellowing voice. The man there to guide us was none other than the Ivartar’s own Head Warrior, Van. “Van, it has been far to long,” Father said. Father walked up to the large man and the two vigorously shook hands, obviously good friends from the looks of it. “That it has Keldi, I see you’ve grown a bit of a gut since you became chief,” Van jokingly remarked. Father chuckled a bit. “Blame my prodigal son, he’s taken all of my work from me. I have no choice but to sit around all day while adding to my belly.” The two men continued to talk while walking down the many, winding halls. Elder and I followed the two in silence. Eventually, we arrived in a hall filled with a large number of wooden doors on either side. “Welcome to the guest residence. These three rooms here will belong to the Erantu for the duration of your stay. Please rest well, tomorrow, the Summit begins.” Van bid us goodnight and went on his way.
***
Come the morning of the Summit, Father and I gathered into Elder’s room. “Calder, you still have that Empire document, correct,” Elder asked me. “It’s with me, don’t worry.” I reached into my cloak to remove the document, still in mint condition. Both Father and Elder nodded. “Then I guess we’ll get started after breakfast,” Father said. We had been provided with a basic meal earlier that morning, only some lightly dried meats and some wild greens. Based on the yelling in some of the other rooms in the residential area, it was obvious that not everyone was satisfied with this meal. As we continued discussing what might happen at the Summit, there was a knock on our door. “Who is it,” Elder asked. The knocking continued. Father drew his sword and I summoned a dagger of ice. Father carefully opened the door, making sure not to startle whoever it was outside.
Upon opening the door, we were greeted by Grandfather Arnbiorn, the Ivartar chief. “What's with the swords, there is no need to be so up in arms. We’re here to negotiate peace against a common enemy, not gut each other before talks can even begin,” Grandfather said, lightly chuckling.“ Father lowered his sword, “You can never be too safe, Chief Arnbiorn. With so many tribes here, it would not surprise me if one tried something… foolish.” Arnbiorn nodded in agreement and motioned us to follow him. “Calder my boy,” he said. “You have that paper with you I assume?” I showed him the Empire orders. “Don’t worry, they haven't left my side since I found them. I’m not foolish enough to trust someone else with their safekeeping.” The chief smiled at this remark. “Good choice boy. With something that important, don’t trust anyone else with its safety. That document is the most crucial evidence we have for the Empires invasion.”
We arrived in a large, ornate room. In the middle of the room was a large, round table with well over fifty chairs around it. The middle of the table was missing, a large fire pit in the middle, warming the whole room. “This is where the Summit will be held. A total of fifty three people will be attending that we know of, though there might be a few late comers,” Grandfather said. “Why have you brought us here early, Chief Arnbiorn,” Father asked him. Arnbiorn sat in one of the chairs, signaling us to do the same. With all of us now seated, Grandfather started to speak. “I have called the Erantu here early to make a request. A request for Calder to be specific, though I would like Chief Keldi and Elder Ragna to hear this as well.” I leaned back into my seat, rather aware of what Chief Arnbiorn was about to ask.
“Calder, I asked this of you before, but I will ask again. Will you become my heir, the next chief of the Ivartar?” I had been thinking about this over and over for the last five cycles. I already had my answer but still looked to Elder and Father for a moment of guidance. Both stayed silent, perhaps expecting this. I looked back to grandfather. “I am sorry Grandfather, but I am not yet ready to be chief of a tribe like the Ivartar, for me… the Erantu is currently enough. When I am older, however, and have more experience as a chief, I will gladly take up that title.” I paused for a moment. “That is only if the other members of the Ivartar will have me as their chief.” Grandfather smiled. “That is what I wanted to hear my boy. Now then, why don’t we...”
Before Grandfather could finish his sentence, the door to the room opened. Head Warrior Van stood there, dressed in a regal outfit of fine silks. “Chief, the other tribes are all ready to begin,” Van said. Grandfather seemed rather surprised. “What do you mean they’re ready, the Summit doesn't begin until Midday.” A large hand appeared on Van’s shoulder and pushed him to the side. “You may say it does not start till midday but we say it starts now.” A loud man came bursting into the room. He was even larger than Van, his hair tangled and filthy, with a beard covered in spit and dirt. The large man was covered in scars and tribal tattoos. “That decision is not yours to make, sir,” I said to the man, my voice cold and callus.
The large man walked right up to me, standing at more than three times my height. “Not for me to make huh. And what gives you, just a child, the right to talk back to me. Do you even know who I am boy?” I knew full well who this man was. This man was likely the most battle crazed maniac in the North, if not the whole of the Continent of Elana Isla (Continent that the Empire and North sit on); Chief of the barbaric Lokvan tribe. This man was none other than Leftheria Lokvan, said to stand equal to Uncle and Van in battle, though, unlike them, cared little for his own life and was known to run into enemy front lines and take on whole tribes on his own. Yet despite this recklessness, he always emerged from battle alive, though sometimes on the brink of death. He was called The Unkillable.
“Isn’t that enough bickering for now chief, remember what we came here to do,” a smooth and calm voice called from behind Van. Another man walked into the room, quite tall, though not as great of stature as Leftheria; he had dark brown hair and deep, green eyes. Unlike the former, he was well kept, with pale skin; regal almost. “Fine Frestia, I will drop this,” Leftheria said to the man that just walked in, though he kneeled down to me. “For now that is,” he whispered in my ear. The handsome Frestia came up to me as Leftheria walked away. “I hope my Father didn't cause you to much trouble, Calder Erantu,” he said to me, his hand outstretched.
I grabbed his hand firmly and shook it. “No harm done Frestia Lokvan. I’m surprised though to see someone like you a member of the Lokvan tribe, especially with a father like that,” I said to him. Frestia laughed at the remark. “I know, the people of my tribe tell me the same thing. Apparently, wanting to get along with the other tribes and not wanting to follow the way of my tribe is a sin.” I smiled a bit; this man was likely the one that forced the Lokvan to come to this Summit. He was definitely someone I could get along with, regardless of his tribal origins. “Chief, why don’t we start early, all of the other chiefs are here as well,” Van interjected. I looked towards to the door to see many battle hardened men enter into the room, all of different shapes and styles. Some were short and strong, much like a dwarf, while others tall and lean. Others still were large and fat or rather normal size.
The many chiefs and their aids gathered into the hall, all sitting at their chairs around the table. Grandfather sighed and merely went to his seat as well. I bid Frestia goodbye and joined Father and Elder at our seats. Once everyone was seated, Grandfather spoke. “I would like to thank you for coming all this way to these holy grounds. You were all called here for a reason of the utmost importance. Recently, a great threat was brought to my attention by a child of a certain tribe. That child is here with us today.” Grandfather looked at me, signaling me to stand and introduce myself. I rose and cleared my throat. “Chiefs of the North, I am Calder Erantu, son of the Chief of the Erantu tribe.” Pausing for a second, I could hear some people laughing at me. “Since it is obvious none of you care to listen to a child, I shall keep this brief and get right to the point. The Empire plans to attack these mountains we call home… and soon.”
Hearing this, the laughs turned to fearful whispers, some even seemingly in shock. “The Empire… attacking the North, are you mad boy,” Leftheria yelled out laughing. Frestia rose. “Calder, that is a bold claim, one I hope you can back up, though it seems I need not even ask that.” I had already pulled out the Empire orders. “Right here, I hold a certain document, a document written by the Duvark Family itself; orders given to a set of scouts to gain information on the North for the coming invasion. If any doubt me, come and look at the family seal on the orders, that should be all the proof you need.” I sat back down and hid the orders back in my cloak when none seemed to come up and confirm. I had everyone's attention more or less now.
“Alright, so the Empire attacks us, and what do you think we should do about it, brat.” Again, chief Leftheria was unable to go a few moments without screaming or arguing. This time, Father answered. “Chief Leftheria, surely you are not so foolish as to think we called all of you here just to waste your time. What we want is simple, for the tribes to unite together against a common enemy, is that so hard to understand. With a united front, we could…” Leftheria stood up and slammed his hand down on the table with such force, he cracked the stone. “Well then, I hope you have a place for the Lokvan in the Vanguard. So long as we can fight well, eat well and die well, we the Lokvan will fight with you as staunch allies.” Hearing such a declaration, from the Lokvan of all people, was surprising to say the least. We had all prepared for a long and drawn out debate. The other tribes too started pledging their support left and right, a unanimous vote in favor of the alliance between all the tribes.
“Well, I think we have our army Arnbiron,” Father said. Chief Arnbiorn got up and faced the great many chiefs. “Thank you, all of you. With this we might just have a chance.” The old Chief was almost in tears from the look of it, relief filling his face. I too stood up and spoke once more. “Everyone, it’s too early to celebrate. There are still many things we have to work out, who will lead the army, what are our formations and many others. We need scouts to determine which path the Empire will take into the mountains, and…” I was stopped by Frestia. “Calder, we can worry about that a little later, for now, we have just achieved a sense of unity between us all. The first thing we need is a name for our army, without that, we can’t say we are one, cohesive group.” Father rose in agreement, as did all of the other chiefs. Grandfather then spoke to the group. “We are those who were forged in ice and snow, those who have lived side by side with death. This pact is forged in that same frost, a pact that determines if we live, or die. So let the Empire come, we shall greet them head on. Let them know our name and know who we are. NOW IS THE BIRTH OF THE FROZEN PACT!!!”