“You look tired,” Fineblade said to Max as they marched down through the city. “Life in the castle doesn’t suit you, perhaps.”
Max yawned. He was tired. He’d been in bed all night but had he rested? The late-night visit from the princess might not have helped. Had his spells reactivated? He checked his Mage Book.
>
>
> Active spells:
>
> • Magic Missile
>
> • Magic Missile
>
> • Magic Missile
>
> • Magic Missile
>
> • Magic Missile
>
> • Magic Missile
>
> • Strength
>
> • Summon Fog
>
> • Fireball
>
>
He closed his Mage Book, relieved to see that all his spells had been reactivated. He only wished he had more spells. Yes, he had a lot of Level 1 spells thanks to his current level and his Ring of Extra Spells, but Magic Missile was not the most powerful spell, not yet, at least. Elderon, at his high level, cast many more magic orbs when he cast Magic Missile, as many as six, but when Max cast Magic Missile, he could only generate two magic orbs. As he went up levels, his Magic Missile would become a lot more powerful.
Until then, he had Fireball. A hugely powerful spell, it delivered lots of damage, and it looked awesome.
Walking out of the city with the company of elves and his party, Max saw the work rebuilding the city gate was already well underway. The best city craftsmen and women had been busy the night long. Torches burning low telling the tale of a night spent at their labors. The battlefield on the meadows was littered with abandoned weapons. Townsfolk out in the early morning sun were roaming over the battlefield collecting discarded weapons to transform into more useful and practical items, some claiming trophies of the battle. The battering ram was missing, and Max wondered how the Deadtide army had managed to take it when they had fled in such disarray, but then he noticed it was being disassembled and the timbers used to rebuild and reinforce the city gate.
The sun rose on a crisp, dew-frosted morning. Max could see now that the elves had not come out of the encounter unscathed. Many wore wound dressings, some walking with the use of staffs. He thought there appeared to be fewer of them today.
The walk through the East Ridge Forest was made easier thanks to the paths that the Deadtide army had cut, particularly the wide one they cut to let them move the huge battering ram. Even though the path was only a few days old, it was already overgrown, the East Ridge Forest reclaiming the paths rapidly. Max could almost hear the vines growing and spreading over the path, snarling it up with thick foliage.
“It is vital we return to the city of the elves at full Health,” Fineblade said to Max as they moved through the East Ridge Forest. “We will rest regularly so my company can regain their Health.”
“Anita can heal you,” Max said. He looked around for her. She was nowhere to be seen.
“We are too many for Anita to heal us all. We will use our own preparations, and some of our company has basic Druid spells. We will be fully fit when we get to the city.”
“You don’t want her aid? Does it have something to do with her being a half elf?”
Fineblade remained silent for a moment. Max watched him carefully pick his words.
“My company was struggling to hold off the darkness of the dark shard. It made my Warriors less gracious than we are known for. I do not have any problem with elves marrying outside the Kingdom of Deepwood. Moreover, we have many dwarfs and men living in Deepwood. And as a soldier, I have crossed this continent and seen more of the world than most elves. Difference is a huge asset. Like you, for instance. You are no elf, but you are welcome in my company.”
“I am glad to be in your company,” Max said. “I want to help you free your kingdom of these dark shards once and for all.”
Fineblade regarded Max with an inquisitive stare that lingered for a fraction of a moment longer than Max was comfortable with. He had a fleeting thought that perhaps this elf did not trust him as much as he professed to.
“Why do you want to help the elves?” Fineblade said
“It is all Eveirea I must help,” Max said without skipping a beat. It was easy to say because it was true. Max could not shake the feeling that the danger to Eveirea was his doing and his responsibility to fix. He could try and run from it, hide here in Eveirea, but he knew he could not hide from Janet. She was never going to leave him alone, and the dark portal was not going to go away, not until it destroyed Eveirea.
“Where are you from, Max?” Fineblade said. “You speak strangely at times. I have never met someone like you before. Are you from the empires of the Scarfel continent or somewhere here on Awen? Where in Eveirea are you from?”
Now it was Max’s turn to pick his words carefully. “I don’t know where I am from, Darius. My parents moved around a lot. Awen and Scarfel, too, I think. I don’t know what happened to them, but I was very young, and I found I was alone in the world. When I met Elderon, he decided to mentor me and guide me in the ways of the Mage class.”
Fineblade seemed satisfied with this. “I am sure you will make a great Mage. You will be on the Mage council one day, I have no doubt.”
Max wasn’t so sure. If he was able to destroy the shards and find the dark portal, he would quite likely return home, leaving Eveirea forever. It was a thought that gave him no comfort. Despite the dark slugs, skeleton lords, goblins, Skarak, and all the many other deadly monstrosities he had encountered, he liked it here.
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Max could not but be in awe of Fineblade. Even though his outfit showed signs of wear from the battle the day before and from hacking his way through the rapidly growing forest, he still looked sharp. His light-colored clothes elegant and stylish. The rest of the elves looked handsome in their white-and-gold capes. Their soft hair, their wide almond eyes. Even though they looked glamorous, there was a steel edge behind their soft exterior. Max knew firsthand they were brave and hard fighters. Max guessed that Anita had inherited this from her elven side.
“Tell me about your king,” Max said to Fineblade.
Fineblade gave him a broad warm smile. “I am honored to have known the king well. We were in the elven company together. He was a prince of the kingdom at the time, and we were both young officers in the company. He was a mentor to me, taught me much about the company, about our great history. He liked my fellowship; I think we were friends. And then, when the old king died and Prince Daynor became our king, he left the company. Since that day, I have only seen him on a few brief occasions, mostly at company ceremonies when he came to inspect the troops. He assured me once that he was kept busy by affairs of state. He assured me he was ever my servant.” Fineblade laughed. “My servant, indeed. He is a king. Yes, we were friends. I hope we still can be.”
Max detected a change in tone, sadness creeping into Fineblade’s usual sunny demeanor.
“I requested an audience when we were sent with the witch to gather the shards. The story was we were saving the continent of Awen from the dark influence. His advisors would not let me see him, but his daughter took me to him. She said she hoped he would listen to an old friend. She is wise for her age. The Princess Harari is probably about your age. Wise beyond her years. So she sent me in to the king’s private chambers. He was not the man I once knew. He was dark, consumed by it, crippled by it. And he was surrounded by dark agents. I wish I had done something then, but I realize now that I was becoming affected by the darkness. How the Princess Harari managed to stay pure, I will never know. I hope we can save them all. And with your help, Max, we will.”
As they walked, Max felt Fineblade studying him. Max felt his wide all-seeing eyes on him, and finally, he turned to Fineblade.
“Speak your mind, Darius. Are we not friends, you and I?”
“How are you able to resist the shards, and how can you destroy them? Anyone I have seen hold them becomes obsessed with them.”
“Maybe it has to do with me being alone and without my parents for so long.”
Fineblade was not convinced, but he shrugged his concerns away. “As long as you can help me save our king, I am at ease. He was so close to the end when I last saw him. He is older than me but not so old he should yet be in his final days. Maybe with the darkness lifted, he can still enjoy some sunny days in the Kingdom of Deepwood.”
The march was relentless. After a full day and a long evening marching, as the shadows lengthened, the company came to a halt. Max did not hear any order from Fineblade for the company to halt. It appeared that the elves simply knew it was time to rest.
Max collapsed to the ground. Jahrod and Anita joined him once they returned from their scouting trips. Both sat silently for some time, regathering their Strength.
“Damn elves never know when to stop marching or stop talking,” Jahrod said. “They’ll start singing before you know it. I’d rather be a dwarf and not know when to stop eating.” He picked out his pouch of lizard guano and dipped his finger in. He sucked his finger and let out a moan of delight.
Max thought he was going to throw up. “How can you put that in your mouth?”
Jahrod carefully and ceremoniously rewrapped the guano and stowed it in his pouch. “I know, it is a waste to eat it on its own. It needs to be in a good scromble. But I just had to have a taste. It is rare to find it so fresh.”
Max felt his gut churn. Anita offered him some heavy bread and a mug of ale, but Max was unable to eat, having seen Jahrod sucking guano.
Elderon walked over to the little group. He looked as fresh as ever, as if he had done little more than taken a pleasant evening stroll.
“The elves will rest until just before dawn. It is a short rest. I hope you will be ready to march. The elves keep a punishing pace.”
“I will prepare spells of recovery to keep us in good Health,” Anita said. She snuggled up to Max. “And we will get to sleep right away. Is there anything I can do for you that will help you fall to sleep?” Anita purred.
Max didn’t know what she meant. A spell of some sort, or did she mean . . . something else? Anita was so attractive, and she sure sounded like she was hitting on him. Max knew nothing should happen between them, but he couldn’t stay strong for both of them. If she kept hitting on him, he would eventually crumble.
Jahrod was already snoring, lying on his back, face up, mouth open, presumably hoping some hapless creature would wander in during the night so he could chomp it down.
Max pulled out his Blanket of Comfort. Anita checked her spells before joining Max on the blanket, and then she nestled into him. He wrapped an arm over her shoulder. She did not suffer from the cold at all, and the night in the forests of the Hinge was very cold. They were so close to the Salt River that Max could hear its waters lapping against the rocky shore. He felt the cold bite, but with Anita in his arms, he grew warmer and was soon asleep.
Morning came too soon. The day’s march was brutal. The elves set a steady pace, but it was unremitting and relentless. Yet the elven company moved with ease. They ate on the march, not taking any rest during the day at all. Even though Max knew his Stamina was high and had recently received a permanent boost, he still felt fatigue creep over him by midafternoon. Anita must have seen it, for she cast a spell of Recovery, and Max felt instantly refreshed, like he’d had a power nap followed by a strong coffee. He made it to sundown without difficulty, but when the elves came to a halt, he collapsed, relieved the day was over.
“We are now deep into the Hinge,” Elderon said as the party rested. He drew a map on the ground with his staff, showing the long, narrow sea known as the Salt River splitting the continent of Awen in two, the continent joined only at the Hinge in the southeast. Elderon stabbed a point on the southern bank of the Salt River near its easternmost point.
“We are here.” He moved his staff around the Salt River coast on the map and jabbed the ground northwest of their current position. “The elven city of Deepwood is here. We will leave the East Ridge Forest tomorrow and move into the forests south of Oak Ridge. We will be passing very close to Castle Deadtide. Captain Fineblade tells me they intend to slip past on the banks of the Salt River. Another long march tomorrow, and we will be into the Kingdom of Deepwood. Rest well.”
Max lay awake, unable to find sleep. He was thinking about Castle Deadtide. Had it been a mistake to let Gaius Deadtide go? Max worried that the Deadtide army and their goblin allies could even now be regrouping at Castle Deadtide. He didn’t remember when he fell into sleep, but when he woke, it was dark, and he was in the middle of chaos, surrounded by the sounds of steel on steel and the shouts of elves in the dark.
Max sat up and tucked his Blanket of Comfort away into his pouch. Jahrod was on his feet, axe in hand. Anita crouching and peering into the darkness.
Elderon came to Max. “We find ourselves in the middle of an elven civil war,” he said, crouching next to Max and the others. “A company of elves is attacking Fineblade’s company. Violence between elves is a rare and terrible thing. It is a brutal sight Eveirea never wanted to see again.”
Max stood up and drew his sword. “We must help Captain Fineblade. If what he tells me is true, the Kingdom of Deepwood is under the influence of the darkness. These elves must be victims of the darkness. We must aid him.”
Max’s party conferred with a series of glances into each other’s eyes, all they needed to gauge their party’s wish for this fight. All agreed with Max.
“We are with you,” Anita said.
“Who needs sleep?” Jahrod said spinning his axe. “We can sleep when we meet in the Underlands.”
A flash of movement in the trees drew Max’s eye, something rushing forward, a hint of movement in the shadows, impossible to see clearly. Max turned his head this way and that to identify the source of this strange movement, but he could only see the outline of something moving. Something advancing at a quick pace. Then he saw a fleeting glimpse of an elf who came running out of the darkness towards Max as he drew his sword, the blade singing on the scabbard, the metal glinting in the dull light of dawn.