Despite the presence of the Sun’s light, there was a pressure that pressed upon Helbram’s shoulders as he entered the forest. It pulsed with such regularity it was as if the forest itself was breathing upon him, and he knew that the further that we walked into its depths the more suffocating that it would be.
Still, he was resolute even with the dread that sat at his heart.
His companions shared the same resolution in their eyes, the same tremble that shook all of their legs. Beyond Helbram’s machinations, there was the desire to prevent such manipulations from being necessary in the first place. Even so far from Southsheer he could hear the low murmur of activity that rang from the town, echoes of their attempts to fortify its defenses. He had insisted that his friends join him within the forest separately, but they stubbornly chose to follow him, earning them the same glances of disdain amongst the townsfolk that he wanted focused on him alone. Guilt and comfort pressed on his mind, but he chose to silence the self-reproach from his companions. He’d burdened them enough with his emotions already.
He took in a breath, holding it as he centered himself. When he let it go, he was thankful for the sliver of clarity that it granted him.
“Are we ready?” Helbram said.
His companions nodded, and they proceeded into the woods.
Locating the Trolls was a simple affair this time. With their emotions clear in the air, the closer that Helbram and the others drew to them, the more that such feelings pressed against them. This effect had taken its toll on the forest itself. Where the trees that sat at the outside of the forest stood upright as normal, there was a noticeable sag to the branches the further that they proceeded into the forest. While the sounds of fauna were scarce before, now they were absent entirely, which made the air all the more heavier with silence. Such pressure provoked twitches from Helbram’s fingers, an instinctual flare of instinct to reach for the presence of the weapons that sat at the back of his mind.
They had decided to approach the parents the same as they had the son, with their weapons stowed away due to the aid of Jahora’s magic. Given the tumultuous mood of the previous night, the Thaumaturge had gotten little rest, and the storage spells that she cast this time had taken a much greater toll on her than before. She was weary, and her dragging movements reflected this. Elly and Leaf reflected this to a lesser extent, with the archer’s fingers twitching just as Helbram’s as he reached for a bow that was not there. Elly herself still favored one of her arms, and despite Sophia’s ministrations the previous night there was a slight limp to her gait. Helbram himself felt refreshed, a result of the Sword’s power the previous night. Looking at his party’s weary state both told him that they were in no condition for battle and granted him a further sense of guilt that weighed upon his mind.
His evaluation of his party had taken up the better part of their trek throughout woods, and it appeared to be an instant before he found himself close to the source of all the emotions that pulsed through the foliage. Silence was replaced with the rhythm of heavy breathing. They were labored, restrained, the noise of one that was close to snapping. The trees themselves were pulled in towards the breathing, releasing with each exhale and producing a soft, yet near deafening rustle to their leaves that only drew Helbram’s mind into further disarray. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, only opening them when he stepped into the Trolls’ clearing.
It was all the more evident that the previous Troll that they fought was not fully grown. They reflected their child’s appearance, with moss-like hair that draped over their heads, stone colored skin with patches of moss splashed across their skin. However, where the son was large, the parents were giant, towering over Helbram even in their hunched, seated positions. Should they stand, it would not be a surprise if their scalps were to graze the canopy of the forest above. A chill traveled down Helbram’s spine the more that their size dawned on him, an instinct that was screaming at him to run.
Such impulses were only further incised when he looked upon the animals that had gathered around the Trolls. Bears, Scalehounds, and Wolves that lay against the two giants, their postures indicating some attempt at comforting the two parents, but their breathing mimicking the same restrained rage sitting underneath it all. Many of them were aware of the party’s presence, and stared at them. A few, namely the Scalehounds, rose to their feet, bearing fangs and uttering low growls. As he looked to the edge of the clearing, he saw more predators funneling in, carrying that same threatening air.
Helbram fought down the fear that trembled up his throat, biting his lip hard enough to draw a speck of blood. He opened his mouth to speak, and was promptly silenced as a deeping, booming voice washed over him.
“I know why you are here, human,” one of the Trolls said. The one that held a wider, stockier build, the Father. His voice rumbled like a rockslide, deafening both Helbram’s ears and mind alike as he heard the earthy tones both physically and mentally. The sensation nearly brought the party to their knees, but they held fast under such pressure.
Now was not the time to falter.
“You reek of your intent,” the Father continued, “approaching us with such lack of malice that I almost believe it to be true.”
He stood up, confirming Helbram’s fears as his head nearly reached the canopy above. The Father turned to face him, revealing a similar mix of bovine and humanoid features. Were his eyes not bloodshot, his face stained by the tears that had run down his face, Helbram knew he would have laid eyes upon a kindly creature, one that would soothe the soul with a kindly smile. Now, the Troll’s broad, near bull-like features lay shrouded in shadow, and Helbram could not help but notice how large the Father’s tusks were, and how set his jaw was as he looked down upon the party.
His nostrils flared as he sniffed, eyes widening for a brief moment before they narrowed, “You were there…” he growled, a noise that drew the attention of the troll beside him.
The Mother turned around, still seated, her expression reflecting the despair that both parents felt rather than the rage that the Father exuded. Her features were softer, closer to her son’s rather than the Father’s own hardened, furrowed expression. Her tusks were smaller, nubs in comparison to the ones of her husband, and her eyes held a weathered, defeated look to them that cut through Helbram’s fear with a pang of sorrow and regret. She said nothing, but eyed the party with both confusion and sorrow.
The Father leaned down, sniffing further as his face drew closer to Helbram, “I smell his blood on you,” he rumbled, “but it is a scant amount… you were not the one to fell my son.”
“Then who was it?!” the Mother said, a voice that he only heard in his mind, but given the flinch of his companions, he knew they could hear too.
She lumbered forward, her eyes flaring with a manic desperation, “Who?!”
Helbram stepped back from her out of instinct, “The one who did so is not here with us.”
“That I can tell,” the Father said, “The one who did so… they bore a scent similar to yours, that metallic… unnatural taint that ever so slightly radiates from you… THE SAME ONE THAT CORRUPTED MY SON!”
The roar pushed the party back, with only Helbram managing to stay on his feet.
Helbram shook his head, “They had no intent of-”
“Do not spout your excuses!” The Mother hissed into his mind, “Our son is dead,” she cried, tears falling freely from her face, “nothing you say will change that.”
Helbram held his hands up, “Please, if you would listen to me for a mo-.”
The Father slammed his fist into the ground, shaking the earth beneath Helbram’s feet, “Did you not hear her, boy? I would choose my next words carefully.”
The growl that rumbled in the Troll’s throat passed into the animals around them, who had started to form a circle around the party. For a moment, Helbram faltered, the weight behind the Father’s words enough to render him speechless. At the same time, they all but confirmed his own suspicions. If he was going to speak on them, it would have to be now. He shook his head and looked the Father directly in the eyes.
“Your son was victim to forces that were outside our control. The Sword of Promise that lays within Southsheer addled your son’s mind, forcing him to act with a violence that we tried to contain,” he clenched his jaw, “we failed, and in the resulting chaos your son fell as we tried to defend ourselves.”
The Father loomed closer, his face only a foot in front of Helbram, “You say ‘we’, does that include those that accompany you now?”
Elly, Leaf, and Jahora nodded in response.
“We tried to save him, we really did,” Jahora said in a sorrowful voice. Her eyes glistened with tears.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“We almost succeeded,” Helbram explained, “but an outside party interfered, and he broke free…”
The Father regarded them all for a moment, his expression neutral, “So you say. You all do not smell of my son’s blood, save you,” he looked back to Helbram, “Though it is not enough to say that you were the one who slew him… no, I have looked over the place where he fell over and over. There were others there, one of whom stuck him down,” his eyes flared with rage, “Your story holds some measure of truth, one that shall be found provided you bring us proof,” He leaned in closer to Helbram, his face only a breath away, “You will bring them, all of them.”
Helbram shivered, “The one that felled your son did so only out of defense,” he explained, “they were trying to save him.”
The Mother loomed closer, the sorrow on her face replaced by a stillness made his breath stop at his throat, “My brother would often speak of Man as selfish, malicious creatures. Beings that would lie to, steal from, or murder one another to get what they want, uncaring of any that happened to fall victim to their whims,” her voice flowed into his mind, her tone calm, “I disagreed, for in my heart I knew that there was good in the hearts of Men, good that was capable of great things should they set their minds to it…” there was a crack to her tone, followed by a low, seething anger, “Now I see that he was right.”
Helbram could feel despair settle at his chest, a sharp, heavy pain that flowed through him.
“He was so curious,” she said, “Of the forest, of animals, but most of all… of Man. Your cultures, your… technology, all of it. In my ignorance I fostered such curiosity,” a tear bled from her glistened eyes, “in my ignorance, I guided my son to his death.”
The Mother’s eyes narrowed and she grimaced, revealing her large teeth as she growled, “You will bring us the ones who killed our son. All. Of. Them.”
As she spoke, Helbram searched the parents’ eyes, desperate to see the silver glint of light in their irises as he had in their son’s. His heart sank when he could see none. This rage was their own, it had rendered them blind, and he could understand why.
“You have until the morrow,” the Father said.
“And if I do not bring them to you?” Helbram asked.
The Parents pulled away and turned their back to him, “Then what is due to few will be felt by all,” the Father replied.
Silence came over them. Helbram reached out and opened his mouth, but stopped before he could say anything.
He knew it would be pointless.
___
No words were said between the party as they made their way out of the forest. A dread sat equally across their shoulders, and their downturned postures were enough to let them know that they were all of the same mind. The pulsing rage and sorrow that permeated the trees was gone, replaced by an utter stillness, and they wished to be as far away from it as possible for the time being.
The Sun greeted them as they left the border of the forest, its bright light muted by the dread that settled over Helbram’s vision.
“What are we going to do?” asked Leaf, “We know what they want.”
Helbram nodded, “Yes, that we do.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Jahora said, “he was just defending himself.”
Helbram sighed, “That we know as well.”
“In such matters… logic does not take precedence,” Elly said.
He lifted his visor rubbed his brow, “I am well aware of that.”
“We should bring Marjorie to them,” Leaf said, “she’s the one that caused all of this.”
“While I agree, I am not sure if we are capable of doing so,” Elly pressed her lips thin, “According to you she is a Third Layer Journeyman, which is troublesome enough on its own, but she also has a Mage of the Third Circle next to her as well.”
“And that is just them alone,” Jahora added, “With how things are, there’s no doubt the townsfolk and other adventurers will rise to their defense should we try to force their compliance… and I can’t see them being charitable enough to go with us willingly.”
“Then what the hells can we do?” Leaf’s knuckles popped as he clenched his fist, “give them Marcus even if he was not the one to do it? He’s not going to go willingly either.”
“I would not be so quick to judge him on that,” Elly said, “given his actions in the forest, it is clear that he has a measure of integrity, and if he knew that his sister and Sophia were endangered…”
“We’re not doing it,” Jahora said adamantly.
“If we do not, then it is likely that the entire village is doomed,” Elly said in a defeated tone, “It does not rest well on my conscience either, there is little else we can do to stop the destruction of Southsheer from happening.”
“Beyond letting the adventurers and the Trolls clash…” Leaf said, “and given all the predators that were around the Trolls… I would not put much stock behind Man in this case.”
“Helbram?” Jahora asked, “You’ve been awfully quiet.”
He stopped walking and rolled his head back, letting out another sigh, “There is another option. I draw the Sword.”
They fell silent.
He looked back at them, “Not to use it, but to present it to the parents, let them do what they will with it.”
“Are you sure that it will let you do that?” Elly questioned.
Helbram shook his head, “Oh it will not, that I know for certain. It would require a great deal of deception, one that I am not so confident that I can do for so long. Given that it has the capability of bending a Troll’s mind from a distance, I can only guess how hard it is to resist it with it in your hand,” He drove his heel into the ground, “But I can see no other option available to us at the moment.”
His companions could do little else but nod. There was little other choice.
“Perhaps there is a way to shield your mind, just enough to bring the Sword out of the town,” Jahora suggested.
“We’d need to find a way to sneak it out of town as well,” Leaf said, “I can’t say that the townsfolk will be too keen on us spiriting away their sacred relic.”
“I would be more worried about the adventurers,” Elly said, “they are wholly motivated by greed and spite towards its intended wielder in this case… and I have a feeling that the Sword won't be subtle the moment it is drawn.”
“Yes, all valid points; ones that we could address had we the luxury of time,” Helbram sighed, “But of course we have no such boons available to us,” he looked back to his friends, “Which means that we need to be rather reckless in this case. Are you with me?”
His party nodded without hesitation.
He smiled, “I truly am fortunate,” he slipped his visor down, “we need to make our move now.”
With newfound resolve, the party marched back to Southsheer. The town had already set up multiple makeshift and spiked barricades along its perimeter, a mix of both adventurers and townsfolk laboring over them at a desperately quick pace. The town guard stood at the town’s major points of entry, but Helbram noted that their numbers seemed a bit thin to be fully out in force. Adventurers and townsfolk alike filled the rest of the ranks, guarding smaller, narrower entrances that could be exploited. The town’s main gate was the most heavily fortified, as it was the one that pointed towards the forest itself. Multiple lines of barricades stood in front of the gate, lined with guards and adventurers who were to busy inspecting the structure of the barriers and their own weapons to pay Helbram’s party much mind.
The town itself held a decisively different air than the dread that loomed over it all in the morning. He could not place the energy as excitement, but rather desperation and resignation as all of the townfolk set about their tasks. Parents were guiding children deeper into the town, most likely to a building that they would all take shelter in. Helbram could see a few of the children, those closer to fighting age, volunteer themselves to protect the town, and to his relief he saw the parents shut down such notions.
It helped him ignore the looks of hate that were directed his way.
They continued on, walking through crowd that had formed in the town square and towards the Sword’s shrine, stopping when they saw what lay in front of it.
A defensive line had formed on the bridge leading to the Shrine’s isolated isle, composed of the town’s guard. A disproportionate amount for a building that lay so far within the town’s depths. Helbram clenched his jaw, doing his best to suppress the anger that brought a flare of heat to his face.
And act that he failed.
He approached the guards standing in front of the bridge, his footsteps heavy as he drew close. The men themselves faltered for a moment as Helbram walked up to them, caught off guard at his momentum. They soon recovered, thrusting their spears forward.
“Halt!” one of them yelled. Helbram recognized him as Darin, the one who had greeted them when they first entered Southsheer.
Helbram stopped just at the tip of the spears. His party rushed after him, but did not say anything as they caught up.
“Tell me,” Helbram began, his voice cold, “For what reason do you stand here while your peers are towards the front?”
Darin frowned, “We were ordered here, told that we needed to protect the Sword from someone,” his eyes did not meet Helbram’s.
“From who?”
“Why, from you of course.”
Helbram turned to the direction of the new voice, and was greeted by the site of Holden, who was adorned in his armor, now with the addition of an open faced helmet. At his sides were more of the Southsheer’s guard along with a few adventurers. Such was their number that they surrounded Helbram’s party, and all had their weapons raised at them. Holden walked up to Helbram, a twisted smile on his face.
“For the reckless endangerment of the citizens of Southsheer, and the attempted theft of the Sword of Promise. You are under arrest.”