Year: 3045 AGD
Month: Midwinter
First Sixthday
Death’s Edge Forest
“There it is,” Pershanti said as they crested the hill.
A sea of green and brown met their eyes as they looked down upon the northern tip of Death’s Edge Forest. Millions of diverse flora and fauna battled for supremacy beneath the branches of a thousand different types of trees below. At least that’s how Pershanti had described the forest the night before. What that all boiled down to was that it was a very good place for them to get lost for a while, even if it was one of the more dangerous places on Terrazil to try to eke out an existence.
“How are we ever going to find Troublefinder’s people in all of that?”
“Don’t worry,” Pershanti replied, “they'll find us. We just need to hope that they find us before something else does. Keep on your toes as we move forward, and trust nothing. There are plants further in that will eat you just as heartily as the animals. Do not let that thing out of its cage unless you are moments away from death.”
That thing was how Pershanti had referred to the part of his subconscious they had discovered the night before, on their second night of meditation training. He had become too complacent during the session, and somehow, something buried deep within his mind had assumed control. He had to be told what happened after that, because he had no memories of the event.
According to what Pershanti had learned from the entity, something had occurred on the night of the boy's birth that caused his subconscious to become hyperaware. It had since been learning from the memories contained in his blood in order to protect him. The problem was that the thing had no sense of right or wrong, only thinking about what was best for the goal of ensuring the boy’s protection.
As such, whenever the opportunity arose, it used latent abilities to ensure that anyone who might be useful to the boy was enhanced. Pershanti said the thing had bragged about the changes that it had already begun to make in Troublefinder when it had saved the Quaelyne’s life, and the things that it could do to improve Pershanti if given the chance. He had no idea who the thing inside of him might have messed with before he came to be in the mine, but the thought that a part of his mind could mess with Pershanti and Troublemaker without their consent made him sick.
The problem was that the thing inside his mind had the memories and experiences of thousands of beings; neither of them was entirely sure how to wrestle control from the thing without being seen as a threat to development. From what the man Walkins had said, he had reason to believe that someone had done this to him. But what if he had learned what this part of his mind was doing and tried to stop it, only to wake up the next morning as someone else? The only thing that seemed to keep the creature from doing whatever it wanted was the limitations that the manacles the boy wore placed upon the thing. Not only that, but they limited the amount of material the thing had to work with, so even if the boy was touching something there was only so much that the entity could do.
“I’ll try to keep my head,” the boy said. “I don’t want that thing taking control again either.”
“We would appreciate that. I would also recommend not taking those manacles off until you figure out how to deal with it. I have a feeling that pushing through the manacle’s barrier as much as it has means that you have grown incredibly in that area, and that kind of power without control is dangerous.” Pershanti sighed. “I wish I knew an easy way to fix this. I wish there was a way that I could go into your mind and help you wrest control, but I’ve only heard of such things being possible in stories. I'm afraid you are alone in this battle. Perhaps the Quaelyne will be able to do something to help you. If not, I think your best bet would be the Protectorate Mages.”
“Well, if I ever see the Arch Magus I’ll be sure to let him do what he sees fit,” the boy laughed.
“You might think such a thing is impossible, but powerful people tend to draw their like. For good or ill, you will have a large part to play in things to come. I will prepare your mind as best I can, but it is up to you how that knowledge is used.”
Troublefinder sneezed. Looking at their furry friend, they noticed his gaze was locked on the direction they had come. As they looked north they saw storm clouds gathering in the mountains, a wall of white already forming near the peaks.
“We were lucky the weather held this long.” Pershanti said eying the coming storm. “I think we can beat the storm to the trees if we hurry, but it's going to be a cold night.”
Town of Verge
Elandria was hungry and in an incredible amount of pain. It was the third day since they had been captured, and they hadn't seen nor heard anyone else in that entire time. She had tried yelling for help through the door, but if anyone heard her, they hadn’t responded to her plea. The few vegetables she was able to find were well past being edible, and she knew she would have to start eating the multi-legged residents of their impromptu cell soon if nothing changed.
The light from the window had dimmed significantly sometime in the late afternoon, and now flakes of snow were beginning to cover the ground, making the already cool cellar freezing cold. She could see her breath frosting the air in front of her. Through the carpet, she could hear Rundig’s teeth begin to chatter. He had the same type of worn down blanket as she had, but with whatever his body was going through it obviously wasn’t going to do the job tonight.
Pushing her way through the hanging carpet, she laid her blanket over his, a process made surprisingly difficult with only one arm. After she managed to lay the blanket squarely over the Dwarf, she crawled into bed in order to share her warmth with him.
“Oye lass, I thought you’d never come,” Rundig said, his voice weak.
“Don’t get any ideas, you old goat, I’m just here to try to make sure you don’t die on me,” Elandria replied.
“That hurts, lass. I’ll have you know I’m a popular fellow back home.”
“Well as you can see my beard is not nearly as long as yours so we aren’t a good pairing.”
“Bah, that’s a myth. Most Dwarven women don’t have beards. Hell, I know a lot of Dwarven men without them as well. The damn things itch, you know.” Rundig laughed.
“Oh good, then it won’t hurt your pride to know that whoever bandaged you up also trimmed your beard quite a bit.”
“Damn, I knew something felt different. Figured it was just the poison. Oh well, either I won’t be alive long enough to have it concern me, or we’ll get out and I can regrow it. Made any escape plans yet?”
“No. We don’t have much to work with here, and no one has been by since we woke up. Either they are trying to figure out what to do with us, or they are just going to let us rot here for killing as many of them as we did.” Elandria sighed.
“We did well. They didn’t expect that, or they would have all been in those trees trying to shoot us.” Rundig’s breathing became labored.
“Just get your rest. We can talk later.”
“Almost…” Rundig took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs. “Almost done with it one way or the other, lass. I can feel it working through my chest. I can feel my toes and fingers again, so if it doesn’t kill me I should be up and about in a day or two.”
“If you die while I’m lying next to you, I’ll never forgive you for it,” Elandria said.
“Deal,” Rundig whispered before closing his eyes and falling asleep.
Elandria watched her old friend sleep for a while before succumbing herself.
Northern Death’s Edge Forest
The boy sat in a bower that Troublefinder had found just before the sun began to set. Pershanti had cautioned against them having a fire at first, but as the temperature began to plummet he decided that they needed something to keep themselves alive. They dug a hole as best they could in the cold ground and made a small fire in the middle of the bower. It wasn’t much, but it should keep their extremities from freezing, according to the Grenaldin.
They had foregone meditation training tonight in order to learn about fire safety and maintenance. Pershanti taught him several different ways to start a fire and how to keep it from being seen from far away. The snow came down in waves throughout the evening, causing their shelter to slowly shrink in size. Several times they had to go out and knock away snow in order to keep the branches above the heat of the flames.
Conversation was sparse as they huddled together in an effort to conserve as much heat as possible. The crackle of the flames was the only sound that broke the oppressive silence of the night. Not even the regular inhabitants of the forest wanted to brave a night like tonight. The only one who seemed comfortable was Troublefinder, who curled up next to them and quickly fell asleep.
Any jealous thoughts about his friend’s ability to sleep in these kinds of conditions were cut short when the boy found himself beginning to doze. It didn’t take long for him to fall into a restful sleep.
“Must you leave?” Dalton said, holding her hand. “We just made it home.”
Their journey back to South Harbor had gone quickly enough after they had been given mounts whose owners had been killed by the Dracairei. They arrived back in South Harbor just in time for the Harvest Festival.
Ever since their encounter in Mountainview, he had been doting over her. She had firmly rebuffed his advances dozens of times, but he still seemed to hope that she was just being stubborn.
“Dalton,” Tyrdra said, making sure she had his full attention. “What happened was a mistake. Not only that, but I am going to leave soon and may not be back for a dozen years or more. You need to find a nice girl and settle down. This city needs you, and soon I fear it will need you more than ever.”
“Leave? But…”
“No buts, I am leaving. You are staying to finish your training to become the leader that I know you will be. Forget about anything that happened, and for the love of all that is good and holy don’t tell your mother.”
He looked at her with those eyes, obviously hurt, but she could tell that he understood. Dalton had been raised to do what was right, and she knew that he would continue with his career, if that is what she told him to do. She also knew that if he realized she was pregnant there wasn’t a force on Terrazil that would stop him from being at her side, and she had to leave before it became apparent.
“Will you at least tell me where you are going?”
“North,” she said, being only partially honest. “I’ll be sure to send messages through the Mages occasionally so you know I am well. I hope the next time I hear from you I will find out you’ve been given a post, or found a nice girl to marry.”
“Alright,” he said as he grabbed her hand and quickly kissed the back of it. “But I don’t think I will ever find anyone that compares to you. I can see in your eyes that you are set in this, however, so I will not fight you. Know that wherever you go, my heart goes with you.”
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
His declaration was followed by loud footsteps up the front steps of her home followed by a series of loud knocks. Freeing her hand from his embrace, she moved towards the door. A familiar form was on the other side of the door.
“Knight Commander,” Tyrdra said with a slight bow. “I see news still travels fast.
“You don’t expect my son to come home in the company of a ravishing woman and expect my men not to tell me about it. Speaking of which, my dear, you look wonderful. I see that little excursion was good for you.” The Knight Commander smiled. “One might even say that you are positively glowing.”
“Yes,” Tyrdra said, motioning for the Knight Commander to enter. “I was just telling Dalton that I was planning to leave again shortly for some time.” She hoped that she had hidden her reaction to the frustratingly perceptive woman’s remarks well, but that damn smile was annoying.
“Mother!” Dalton said, moving over to embrace the Knight Commander of the Protectorate. “Do I have some stories for you!”
“I’ll bet,” Tyrdra heard her mutter.
Oblivious to the hidden context flying about him, Dalton began to regale his mother with his many deeds. Tyrdra smiled at the young man’s enthusiasm, especially when his mother was unable to get in a word during his tirade. She soaked it all in knowing that she would miss such interactions in the years ahead.
Something stalked through the darkness. Somehow, he knew it was nearby watching them from a distance. In a way, he was glad it had awoken him from his dreams, as they were becoming increasingly odd of late. Part of him still wanted to know how things had played out from there, but he had a feeling that part of the story was done.
Troublefinder stirred a few moments later and his fur stood on end for a short while before he began to sniff the air. His eyes went wide at the scent he caught, and he looked at the boy with a look that could only be called excitement. He let loose a few short noises that surely got the attention of whatever was waiting outside.
Pershanti woke with a start, staring down at their little friend. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be making that noise,” he said, his tone much more collected than he appeared.
“I think he knows what’s out there,” the boy said. “Though, that doesn’t really make me any more comfortable with it.”
They waited in silence for a few moments before the light steps of some large creature could be heard crushing the snow beneath their steps. It didn’t take long for a hulking form of silver and black to materialize out of the darkness as it entered the small light provided by their dying fire. Pershanti grabbed a piece of wood and set it into their impromptu pit as he seemed to notice the dying light as well.
Troublefinder ran into the darkness, his stubby little tail wagging uncontrollably. Not long after he ran back in followed by a much larger version of himself.
“Don’t make any sudden movements,” Pershanti whispered.
“Obviously,” the boy drawled.
The mature Quaelyne eyed them both. Not only was it taking up a large portion of their shelter with only half of its bulk in the bower, but its blue eyes shone with a vast intelligence. After staring at them for a short time, it tilted its head to the side as it turned its gaze to the boy.
“He says that you have an exceptional will and wants to reassure you that he means no harm,” Pershanti said, his words coming slowly as he put the Quaelyne’s thoughts to words.
After Pershanti spoke, he realized that he could feel a slight pressure on his head. Taking a deep breath and turning his thoughts inward he found that he was indeed keeping the Quaelyne out of his thoughts. He mentally probed the defense, trying to figure out exactly how it had been made, and thought that he might be able to duplicate it on his own in the future. When he attempted to remove the shield of thought, however, he experienced resistance and heard a slight warning growl in the back of his mind.
He means us no harm. The boy sent the thought loudly, not knowing the exact location of the intelligence that had been created from his subconscious. In return, he felt a wave of reluctance. Clearly, a part of his mind remembered what had happened to him and didn’t want anything like that to happen again. Pershanti’s reminder that he needed to be careful when dealing with the thing shaped his next thoughts. I appreciate you looking out for me, but Troublefinder obviously trusts whoever this is, and you have seen inside his mind. We are among friends.
The benefits and negatives of dropping the thought shield suddenly rushed through him, and he thought for a moment that the thing might keep the shield in place no matter what. One final thought flashed, however; Troublefinder looking up at him with complete trust in his blue-gray eyes as their consciousness began to separate. With that thought it seemed a decision had been made and the thought shield dropped.
That was impressive to witness. The thought came from outside himself, and he knew it must be the Quaelyne’s mind.
You could see what happened through the shield? he thought back.
Not so much see, as feel. The will of the other is strong, but I could feel your battle even through the barrier. A feeling of respect flowed through the connection. Wisdom is knowing when you are overmatched and finding a way to outthink your opponent. He is you, but not. The most primal part of your mind it knows only base things, attack and defense, victory and defeat. Emotions will shape its growth. The more afraid you are, the more control it will have over you. Show it that you are able to handle whatever comes your way and you will eventually become its master.
As the Quaelyne finished his thoughts, the boy could feel the barely contained rage that the intimidating being in front of him was keeping in check and realized that these strange creatures knew better than anyone what he was dealing with. As the Quaelyne started to speak into his mind again he realized that the previous conversation had been between only the two of them as Pershanti looked between the two of them curiously.
I see that you saved the life of my son, the Quaelyne said, sending gratitude and happiness through the link.
“Well, he did,” Pershanti said, tilting his head towards his young friend. "I just kind of helped out afterwards."
Acknowledgement of the truth was sent to them, along with respect. True, but you are fostering this cub, so his actions speak well for you.
Pershanti nodded his understanding, clearly overwhelmed to have earned the respect of such a powerful creature.
We heard you walking the remembrances, the Quaelyne said, looking towards the boy. Rarely has one seen them so clearly.
“The memories?” the boy said, receiving a strong feeling to the affirmative in return. “I am not sure how I do it, they come and go at random.”
This is common in one so young, though I have rarely heard of one of your kind having the ability. If the Elders agree I will teach you how to walk the remembrances as I teach Troublefinder. As he finished, a small yip of excitement filled the bower and they all felt a quick wave of exaltation rush through them.
All of them looked at Troublefinder to see him hopping in a small circle, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. They all shared a moment of merriment between them that had the little guy stop and look at them all.
“That was him, wasn’t it?” Pershanti said.
Yes, through the thought share you may pick up on his strongest feelings. He is young yet, and doesn’t know how to share his thoughts, but when a connection is established it is sometimes strong enough that emotions can intrude on the signal.
“Amazing.” Pershanti looked like a cat that had just found a bowl of cream.
“What are you called?” the boy asked.
Forgive me, that should have been one of the first things we spoke of, but I noticed that you do not have a thing you call yourself so thought it might be rude to bring it up. A wave of thoughts went through them then. First, an image of a smaller silver and black form dropping onto the back of a spider three times his size in order to save his future mate. Next, an image of a slightly larger version of himself staring down a pack of wolves whose pelts gleamed like the night sky. Finally images of him nearly fully grown staring into the challenging eyes of a familiar female, now fully grown, who was half again his size. Dauntless.
“Well, Dauntless, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am known as Pershanti. I have tried to give my companion here a name, but he seems set against it.”
Names are important, Pershanti. He will know when he has found the name he is comfortable with, and in time that too shall be shed when he reaches maturity, as it should be.
This thought comforted the boy. He was beginning to think that he was simply being stubborn, but Dauntless had reinforced the idea that had been simmering in the back of his mind for some time. He would find a name that fit him until he remembered who he was or picked a name for himself.
Rest until morning, then I will bring you to the Quaelyne. I will stand guard, in case there is anything hungry enough to brave your flame.
First Seventhday
Town of Verge
Elandria awoke to the sounds of crunching snow as someone walked up to the front door of the building they were trapped in. She thought about getting out of bed to meet whoever it was on her feet, but as she poked her head above the blankets, she decided it was too cold out to let her pride get the best of her. After several boards were removed, the door was slowly pulled open. It took a few well-placed kicks to break through the snow that had built up at the bottom of the door in order to open it enough to let someone inside.
A Dracairei stepped into view a moment later. He stepped down into the room with a slight wince, his leg giving slightly under his weight.
“Still alive, I see,” he said, his breath billowing out before him. “Noble of you to help keep the Dwarf warm, but his chances of survival are not very good. Even if he survives the toxin, he’ll probably just end up like the other one.”
The other one? She thought. Her eyes went wide as she realized he must be talking about Seargeant Mcdowell.
“Ah, I can see you didn’t know he was alive still.” The Dracairei laughed. “Well, even though I’m a little surprised myself, I assure you he will not be so for long.” Respect entered his voice after the taunt. “These Dwarves are awfully tenacious creatures. He’s been in the pillory for the last few days. This morning he began to show the first signs of frostbite. I’m afraid that if the weather continues, he’s going to lose his fingers and toes by the end of the day.”
Elandria stared at the Dracairei, his pink eyes watching her for the smallest reaction. She was determined not to let him see how much his words hurt her. Sergeant Mcdowell wouldn’t want her to show the assassin any weakness, so she was determined to shove her despair away while he was in the room.
“You might be surprised. He’s tougher than you think.”
“Rest assured, we are well aware of who you are now. There are only a few special units that the Protectorate would send this far into our territory. Based on the composition of the members of your squad, we are fairly certain you are the unit known as the Vigilantes. According to our intelligence, there are several not yet identified members of your squad still at large.” The Dracairei pulled out a small slip of paper. “Let’s see. Twin Gray Elven brothers, who go by Za’erath and Za’kereth, a Priest and Mage respectively. A Human named Drake who specializes in scouting and infiltration, and a Dwarven Cleric named Bredwin.”
They don’t know yet that Bredwin and Drake died last year, and they haven’t caught the twins yet. Elandria put every effort into keeping her face stony so as not to show any sort of reaction as he read off the names. “You have done your homework,” she said, figuring it was no use trying to deny the information.
“Yes, which would make you Elandria, expert archer and sometimes scout…” The Dracairei looked down at her with a smirk. “…or at least formerly so.”
She couldn’t help but wince at his jab, his remarks hit her solidly in her most vulnerable spot. For the last few days, she had been studiously trying to ignore the fact that she would no longer be able to use a bow and had failed miserably in that task. The thought was with her every moment of her imprisonment. Who was she now that she wasn’t able to do the job she had excelled at?
“I see that one hit the mark.” The Dracairei laughed. “At least my leg will heal, and I’ll be able to resume my duties. I’ve never heard of anyone regaining a limb once the wound began to seal, although I’m betting the Blood Mages will give it a shot if you let them. I hear some of them love trying to put pieces from one creature onto another. They call it grafting.”
“That’s just what I want, to be some insane Mage's pet project.” Elandria realized she had raised her voice when Rundig stirred.
“Luckily for you,” the Dracairei said, completely disregarding her sarcasm, “you will have that chance once our mission here is complete.”
“You’re taking us to Siniquity?”
“You, and any others that survive our attempts to capture them.” The assassin pulled out a bag from inside his cloak and tossed it onto the bed. “On that note, my superior seems to think our master would like it if you and your companion weren’t dead from starvation before we can leave.”
“I’d say thank you, but you seem more inclined towards letting us rot away in here in our own filth,” Elandria replied while grabbing the bag.
“Yes, I think it is a waste of resources. However, until I hear otherwise, you will be treated as our guests.”
The smirk he shot her way let her know that he didn’t have a high ideal on how one should treat a guest. He stopped on his way back towards the door and looked at the pile of waste that was frozen in the corner of the room.
“Hopefully we can get out of here before the thaw really hits, or this place is going to be rather foul.” With that he exited the room, closing the door behind him.
She listened as he moved the bolts back into place, waiting until she could no longer hear his footfalls before looking inside the bag. Inside, there was a waterskin, a half dozen biscuits, and several large strips of dried meat. It would be enough to keep them alive for several days, but from the look the Dracairei had given her she realized that they would have to make it last for as long as possible.
Unless rescue came soon, they were not going to be strong enough to fight back. Laying her head down, she decided to wait until Rundig awoke before eating. They were in this together, and his body needed the resources more than hers at the moment. If he saw that she was eating, he would be more inclined to do so as well. Elandria moved the bag down underneath the blankets between them so that it wouldn’t freeze in the meantime. She wondered where everyone else was, and how they were doing.
Part of her wanted them to swoop in and rescue her, but she knew that wasn’t likely with so many Dracairei around. Their best option was escape, but she also knew they wouldn’t leave without her. In the quiet morning light, lying beside her weakened companion, she did something she hadn’t done since she was a girl: she prayed.