As the sun crept up above the mountains to the east. Ricar knelt on the bare earth and prostrated himself towards it as he mouthed a quiet prayer. Rhania watched in silence as she waited for him to complete one of his twice daily prayers to the God of Light. Her Captain had told her numerous times that as a wielder of His power, the least she could do was perform the morning prayer, but He could take that power back for all she cared.
Soon, Ricar was done, and they resumed their journey upstream. Though she hadn’t detected any signs of life in their trek through the night, Rhania took heart from the arrival of dawn. She glanced at the river and saw that its water was beginning to run clear, though she wouldn’t dare drink from it. At least not yet.
“Perhaps I have misjudged you,” Rhania jumped as Ricar spoke for the first time since they’d left the village.
“What do you mean?” she asked without turning around.
“Well, you seem to want everyone to know how much disdain you hold for humanity,” he remarked. “But at the end of the day, you have a soft spot for we mortals after all.”
Rhania grunted. It had been her idea to leave Idriene and her son bound in their home before slipping away in the night so that her neighbours wouldn’t think she had collaborated with the outsiders. The other villagers, for their part, had been content to observe them from their darkened homes until they left. Something about her plight resonated with her, and Rhania breathed a silent prayer hoping that no harm would come to Idriene or her son.
“We should help those who cooperate with us,” she replied.
“Oh yeah,” Ricar smirked.
His demeanour changed when Rhania came to an abrupt halt. He approached her and was pleased that she didn’t raise her guard this time.
“What is it?” he whispered.
“Over to the left, a hundred yards away,” she replied softly. “Something’s not right.”
“We should investigate,” Ricar remarked.
Rhania nodded and together, they crept forward cautiously until they found a tree that had been snapped from its trunk roughly five feet from its base. Lying close by was a pile of slate grey boulders that had been arrayed in the vague shape of a man.
More shattered trees lay scattered around. Most were huge, with trunks almost over six feet in diameter and having once stood over a hundred feet tall. They had been blown away by some great force as though they were matchsticks. Scattered around the ground were more slate grey boulders.
“A great battle took place here,” Ricar breathed.
Rhania nodded silently and touched the sap that dripped from a shattered tree like blood. “It took place recently. Perhaps last night.”
“Those stones, I’ve never seen them around here,” Ricar remarked as he examined one that was the size of a large carriage.
“They came from further up the mountains,” Rhania remarked. She touched one and gasped. Magical energies, though faint, still flowed through it. “These are stone giants. Wardens of the mountains.”
Ricar cocked an eyebrow. “I thought those were myths.”
“Rest well, ancient one,” Rhania whispered quietly in elvish, deeply troubled. Stone giants were rare, mighty incarnations of nature and normally kept to the higher inclines and yet, the remains of two were here in the foothills. What brought them here, and what could have done this to them? To shatter one would take the strength of an army of men.
She then became aware of a crater amidst the fallen trees. Inside, lying in a pool of black, steaming liquid, was the shattered body of a strange, winged humanoid creature. Rhania nocked an arrow and took aim. The creature’s chest was caved in but was still breathing, albeit weakly.
“What is that thing?” Ricar breathed as he appeared behind her.
One of the creature’s bloodshot eyes creaked open and focused it on Rhania. The elf took an involuntary step back, and the creature smirked. It then looked at Ricar, and the eye narrowed to a slit.
“So, Sir Ilian’s dog has come this far.” The creature broke into a shrill, baiting laugh. “Your master didn’t dare come on his own? Tell me, is he still cowering in Yeryn?”
“There’s no need for him to get involved personally with the likes of you, or your master,” Ricar replied as he approached the creature cautiously. He paused and frowned. “Niclan. So, this is what has become of you.”
The creature’s eyes glazed over with confusion. It blinked before replying. “Niclan… so that was my name.”
“Were you a turncoat from the start, or did your new master bend you to his will?” Ricar asked with a look of disgust.
The creature broke into a grotuesque smile. “I will leave that to your imagination. The master has gone upstream. Perhaps you could ask him.”
“And why are you being so helpful?” Rhania asked suspiciously.
The creature smiled wanly, revealing a mouth full of jagged teeth. “Perhaps it’s because he abandoned me when I broke my body defending him.”
“No, that isn’t it,” Ricar stated flatly.
“I agree,” Rhania nodded.
She looked over the creature carefully. It’s two of its legs and an arm had been shattered, and it clutched what looked like a black iron slab of steel in the taloned hand of its good arm. She shot Ricar a look and the wiry man nodded in response. Getting too close to this thing could be fatal.
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The creature began to chuckle before breaking out into a wheezing fit. “How unfortunate, but I must return to the master now.”
Rhania’s eyes widened as the creature turned to dust before their eyes. “Did he expire on his own, or was that intentional?”
“Well, if nothing else, we’re on the right track,” Ricar remarked. “However, I am concerned that he tried to send us on ahead.”
“Perhaps he was trying to make us doubt ourselves,” Rhania said absently. “Or do you think he had a change of heart and came back to the light at the end?”
“He was one of Sir Ilian’s most trusted men, which is why he was put in command of the hundred strong force. I find it hard to believe he went over to Glonn’s side in the first place,” Ricar remarked. “And I considered him a friend.”
“Perhaps the sword had the power to bend people to its master’s will,” Rhania remarked.
“Perhaps the sword’s power over him waned as he died,” Ricar mused. “And his true will came through.”
“I am concerned that might be wishful thinking,” Rhania said as she looked upstream. “Well, it’s not as though we can turn back now.”
Ricar grunted in agreement. “What he became was nothing like the thing we encountered in the village.”
Rhania nodded. “So, if anything, the sword’s power has grown.”
Ricar touched Rhania on the arm and looked her in the eye. “Is your plan to take him in a head on confrontation?”
The half elf shrugged. “If it comes to it. What is the alternative, head back to Yeryn and send word to Dinburn for reinforcements? That would take weeks. Weeks that we do not have.”
She paused and turned to Ricar. “If you want to hedge our bets, you can go back and get the ball rolling on summoning help. I will even lend you my signet ring. That will get the Arbiters to treat any missive you send seriously.”
Ricar thought it over for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I will go with you until the bitter end. Glonn needs to be stopped before he can unleash his sword’s full potential. Our best chance to accomplish that is by working together.”
“I suppose you have a point,” Rhania allowed as she looked at the blackened slab of steel, which was all that remained of the creature, with concern. It possessed a badly notched, single edge, and was probably what had shattered the stone giants.
It was likely that this Glonn had four more of those things by his side. Then there was the man himself to deal with. She bit her lip. She didn’t know how they were going to deal with them and Glonn himself on top of that, but it was too late to turn back now. She didn’t see what choice they had but to blunder on and play it by ear.
She ground her teeth in frustration. Her Captain was right. Somehow, despite having been in the Arbiters for as long as the average human lifespan, she still lacked experience.
The elven temple stood amidst a grove of herbs and fruit trees. It was a circular stone building, almost a hundred feet in diameter and its walls were covered in frescos depicting Ergon, the elven god of nature and scenes of Him guiding the elves in their early days. The temple was topped by a domed roof. Its turquoise tiles glittered in the evening sun. Standing at each corner of the temple was a willow tree. Their fronds fell almost to the ground and were of a greenish blue hue. The temple and its grounds had to be thousands of years old and yet, it looked like it was still in use. Its walls were free from creepers and its garden looked like it had been manicured that very morning. There wasn’t so much as a leaf out of place.
“At last,” he breathed. He could feel the hunger in the sword at his back. He could feel his body growing more frail with each passing moment as the sword fed off his life force. He glanced at his four guards who towered over him. If he was turned into a monstrosity like them once the sword had gorged all the magical energy it could, it would be a price he would gladly pay.
“It looks clear, master,” one of his men rumbled. He had a name once, but it seemed he could not remember it. Perhaps his lieutenant knew it. He had been mortally wounded in the battle against the stone giants, but Glonn intended to return to see if he could be healed once he empowered the sword. He needed capable and loyal men like him in his new kingdom. However, despite being so important to his cause, he could not, for the life of him, recall his name.
Glonn nodded and together, the five approached the temple cautiously. The stone giants had been formidable foes and his confidence in their newfound power had caused his lieuteant to be unnecessarily incapacitated. Glonn would not make that mistake again.
When they set foot in the grove, Glonn felt electricity in the air. His guards felt it too. Their hackles stood on end, and they broke into ferocious snarls as they readied their weapons.
“Get back,” Glonn warned. “This could be a trap.”
As they retreated several paces, loud cracks filled the air as the willow trees surrounding the temple began to move. Each had a pair of deep, brown eyes hidden amidst the knotted wood of their trunks that opened and focused on the intruders. Their roots came bursting from the ground to serve as legs and their main branches bowed down to serve as arms. Each creature had at least six limbs and lumbered towards them with surprising speed.
“Your bodies will fertilize the grove, servants of darkness,” one of them rumbled as it swung a mighty limb.
“Treants,” Glonn growled.
One of Glonn’s guards raised its weapon to parry but the force of the impact swept it off its feet and sent it flying backwards. A flap of the guard’s wings brought it under control. A second sent it soaring high into the air, over the treant. It raised its weapon high over its head as it fell back to the ground. It brought its weapon down over the treant, splitting it down the middle.
As the stricken treant creaked and groaned, one of its companions snatched Glonn’s guard out of the air by its head and slammed it repeatedly against the ground before grabbing its legs with another limb. It strained and the guard roared in pain as it was ripped in half at the waist. The treant hurled the two halves of the broken creature into the forest as it fended off another guard with its other limbs by flailing them around like whips.
A pair of guards occupied the limps of another treant as best they could while Glonn stepped into the flurry of whip like branches and vines, blocking stray hits with his sword until he plunged it into the creature’s trunk.
The treant emitted a loud, shrill shriek as it slowly crumbled to dust. The remaining treants flattened one of Glonn’s guards and swatted another aside before converging on the frail man. He could feel power coursing through his body. A treant brought a huge limb crashing down on him. Instead of dodging, he pointed his sword up and thrust into the branch that was as thick as an ox. The treant attempted to retract its limb but the sword clung on fast. It thrashed about but the sword’s power kept Glonn glued to the ground and another treant crumbled away.
The remaining treant crushed Glonn’s last guard under its root feet. The pair squared off against one another, and Glonn smirked and lowered his sword. “I’m curious. What are you going to do now?”
The creature stared at Glonn before rumbling, “I return my energy to the temple.”
The treant’s roots shovelled the earth under it aside, planting it where it stood and in the blink of an eye, it had reverted back into a tree.
Glonn grunted and looked towards the temple as the guard that had been swatted away came flying back. He felt invigorated from the magical energies he had absorbed from the two treants and regretted taunting the third which had deprived him of an opportunity to absorb more. However, soon, his sword would have all the energy it needed. He took a step forward and felt a paw on his shoulder, holding him back.
“That creature sacrificed itself for a reason,” the guard warned.
Glonn cocked his head towards the temple and the guard held its weapon out in front of it and inched forward slowly. As the black steel slab crossed the threshold of the garden, a barrier of blue energy shimmered into existence, slicing the tip of the weapon clean off.
The guard looked to his master who frowned. “My captain has died.”
“What killed him?” the guard rumbled. “More stone golems?”
Glonn shook his head. “It appears that our former master has summoned reinforcements.”
“Do we go back, or attempt to find a way inside?”
A smile crept across Glonn’s face. “We stay right here and wait. The lieutenant says an elf comes. Perhaps she is our way in.”