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The Order of the Stag
Chapter 11 - The Basilisk

Chapter 11 - The Basilisk

Erevan sighed deeply as Nalion and Ilias scoured through the books in the chapel of Yolkshire. He was bored out of his mind. He didn’t understand how someone could enjoy combing through dusty tome after dusty tome, and yet the other two had been at it for hours. He scoffed. Mages. He missed Hama. The other guy would have surely been standing by his side cracking some inane joke to pass the time. But Hama was not here. He wasn’t sure if they’d ever see Hama again.

They would have to spend the night at the inn again, Erevan mused, as he considered their options. It was too bad really as he didn’t have that many rations left, and probably neither did Nalion. They’d have to restock soon. Which meant either finding the staff or getting far away from here so that he could hunt.

He absentmindedly threw a small rock for Spiro, who expertly caught it in the air and brought it back. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who was bored. It was kind of cute, the way Spiro chirped happily after a particularly tricky throw. His lips twitched.

“AHA!” exclaimed Nalion all of a sudden, startling Spiro so that the small dragon missed Erevans latest throw.

The stone hit Ilias right in the temple. Erevan allowed himself the smallest of smiles. Ilias looked at the stone, flabbergasted, while slowly massaging the spot where it had hit him. The ranger rolled his eyes as his smile dropped. There was no need for any massaging, it’s not like there was even any force behind the throw. Why did the human have to be so over the top all the time? Erevan had only been playing with Spiro. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t absolutely barbaric. Sure, he could appreciate a good fight but that didn’t mean he enjoyed needless violence. Unless it was funny.

Nalion, paying his surroundings no heed as per usual, continued with his face buried in the pages. “I found it! Right here, it says: “the basilisk’s weakness is the odor of the weasel -” oh but the weasel dies too… But it also says “basilisks can be killed by hearing the crow of the rooster or by gazing at itself in a mirror”.” The elf lifted his head and looked at the other two in excitement. “The mirror part might be quite finicky to do while avoiding eye-contact and being devoured and what-not, but the rooster-thing could be doable. We should check if the town folk have roosters!”

Bolstered by the confidence the new information had given him, Nalion rushed past Erevan with a determined expression on his face. Erevan sighed again. Guess beer would have to wait. Nalion was far too gullible to be left on his own devices. He had no choice except to begrudgingly follow after the elf.

As they walked over to where Claire was standing, he spotted another trio of humans in his peripheral vision. Two men and a woman. They were dressed in nondescript clothing, their hair ranging from gray to mousy brown. The paranoid part of Erevan, which just happened to be the largest part of him, whispered how their clothing choice felt intentional. As if they wanted to go unnoticed, to blend in the crowd. Yet there was something about them that caught his sharp gaze, something that separated them from the other humans milling about. Something, that didn’t feel right in his gut.

The humans looked around keenly with their beady little eyes and long noses. Erevan felt as if he should know what it was, the wrongness, yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He frowned. He should keep an eye on them.

He kept sneaking sideway glances at the strange trio as Nalion and Ilias talked about the rooster situation. In all fairness Erevan didn’t really care about that. He was just glad that he didn’t have to be the one talking.

He had never enjoyed standing around and yapping about, just to talk for the sake of talking. This was true with anyone really, but it was even worse when it came to the opposite gender. If his past experience was to be trusted, he would begin to stutter and stammer, a white hot embarrassment flashing through his entire body in ruthless waves. Erevan hadn’t really had that many chances to talk to women, he had no idea what he should say. To be fair, the way his mouth seemed to stop working it wouldn’t help even if he knew the right words.

A sudden longing to run back to the forest, to the wilderness, awakened in his heart. Soon they’d be done with this folly and things could be more normal again. He couldn’t wait.

Erevan looked back towards Nalion and Ilias, only to see Nalion looking dejected and lost.

“What is it?” Erevan grunted, instantly alert as his sharp gaze sweeped the perimeter for potential threats. Had he missed something because he had been so focused on the odd trio?

“They don’t have any roosters!” Nalion uttered sadly.

“So?” asked Erevan, unperturbed. “You turned yourself into a spider, surely you can be a rooster.”

He paused as he thought for a while. “Though it’s too dangerous. Shouldn’t risk it.”

Nalion looked ready to argue, and then paused. After thinking about it the older mage gave a sad nod, shoulders slumping slightly as he accepted Erevans logic. Good. He didn’t have enough beer in him to try to convince Nalion that it was a bad plan.

It seemed that they wouldn’t be able to help the town after all. To be fair, it wasn’t their fault. They had tried, but it didn't work out. Sometimes that’s life. He knew it better than anyone that you couldn’t save everyone. Sometimes life sucked. Besides, now they could leave. And most importantly, the human could leave them be. So far Ilias hadn’t been as bad as the bard, though Erevan was convinced that this blond had merely not shown his true colors yet. But the time would come, and he would be ready. Ilias would rue the day he decided to cross Erevan Stormwind.

“I could do it.”

Erevan whipped his head to glare at the idiotic teenager in question, causing his hair to partially block his vision. He narrowed his eyes menacingly as he surreptitiously tried to blow his hair out of them. What was the human’s end game?

Ilias merely continued smiling in a friendly manner, looking like the perfect picture of innocence. Erevan didn’t trust it one bit. He much preferred shitty liars like Nalion.

“Isn’t it too dangerous?” asked Nalion hesitantly, eyebrows faintly scrunched in concern.

Ilias shrugged amicably.

“I don’t think so. You turn me, I close my eyes and take a few steps and then, I guess, “crow”,” the human lifted his hands to do small citation-marks in the air, “and basilisk dies, problem solved!”

Ilias beamed at them brightly. Erevan huffed. It was an unnecessarily dangerous plan but if the idiot insisted, who was he to stop him?

Nalion was still clearly hesitating, chewing his lower lip between his teeth as he mulled it over. The elf then turned to look at Erevan, most likely hoping for the ranger’s input. He gave a noncommittal shrug. He really didn’t care.

“Alright,” Nalion said, still looking a bit worried. The elf didn’t seem to be too keen on the idea yet he also knew the reality of the situation they were facing. Hundreds of people would starve if they didn’t find the staff. And Bony did seem to know where to find it. If Bony could be trusted that is.

Nalion looked at Ilias intently, expression morphing into something more determined and stern. “But you have to promise to be careful. I won’t be able to keep up any other spell at the same time since it requires me to be completely focused on it. If something goes wrong, I will turn you back to yourself while you’ll turn around and run out of there as fast as you can. We’ll be ready to close the doors if it comes to that.”

Ilias lifted both his hands up by his chest, palms towards them. “I promise, I promise!”

Nalion and Erevan shared an unimpressed glance.

Thus they began making their way back towards the towers with Ilias trudging behind them. With an unspoken agreement, Nalion casted his signature spell on them while they crossed the bridge, letting go of it as soon as they reached the majestic double doors.

Erevan still wasn’t quite used to the casual magic use, especially when it was directed at him, yet a part of him had begun to really appreciate that specific spell. It was really nice to just blend into his surroundings. It made him think of the safeness and comfort he’d experienced when he had the bandit cloak with the big hood. He really should buy a cloak. With the biggest hood there was.

Nalion started casting again, face slightly pinched in concentration. Ilias began to shrink as bright orange-red feathers sprouted all along his body. After a few seconds a rooster stood in his place.

“Caw,” said Ilias-the-rooster.

Nalion nodded somberly. He then looked at Erevan, the gaze signaling it was time to open the doors. The ranger relaxed his shoulders and gave each arm a small shake to shrug off the nerves, preparing the limbs for what was to come. He’d need to be ready to close the door fast. Maybe even help Nalion with his.

“Shut your eyes,” Erevan muttered with a low voice as he closed his own. It felt very wrong to do so, especially knowing the threat that lay within. It went against all his instincts as a hunter. He’d just have to trust his hearing, or for Ilias to warn them if the basilisk started to move towards them. The choice was easily made.

Soon he could hear, clear as day, the light clacking sound on the cold marble as Ilias probably tested out his new body. That could in no way be the basilisk. Something that big would have to make a lot more noise as it moved.

The door opened, slow and soundless. It was a little on the heavy side as well, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Just like the first time. He could hear Ilias skittering inside, the “footsteps” blatantly obvious in the otherwise silent room. After a while he could hear a rooster crow. It seemed things were going according to plan. Now they just had to hope the book's information was, indeed, correct.

Some more light clacking followed as Ilias made his way back to them. Erevan strained his hearing. There were no other sounds. As the clacking grew close, there was suddenly a thumping sound. At the same time, he could feel something extremely light push against the door momentarily. He slapped his forehead. The idiot had run into the door. He opened his eyes, blue gaze fixed at the faintly bluer lake as he waited for Ilias to get out. Which he did, walking slowly this time and with his little bird eyes opened.

“How did it go?” asked Nalion in a hushed voice.

“Caw,” replied Ilias.

“Really?”

“Caw.”

Nalion hummed as he nodded absentmindedly. Erevan crossed his arms and rolled his eyes in ever mounting exasperation. Mages. He himself didn’t trust a dusty old book, but there was someone who could check the safety of the situation for them. He fished out the little silver bell from his pocket and rang it a few times, the sound sharp yet melodic. It was more pleasant than he had expected.

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They waited in silence as a few moments passed. Then Erevan could hear movement from inside, slowly closing in. This too sounded too light to be the basilisk. Ilias, however, didn't seem to have too keen a hearing as the rooster crowed again. Probably playing it safe.

And then Bony was in front of them. Erevan suppressed a small smile. It was quite handy to summon him with the bell. Bony bowed down low with the same exaggerated flourish as he had done the previous time.

“Bony,” said Erevan. The skeleton slowly straightened his back and turned his bony face towards him. “Is the basilisk dead?”

Bony gave a smaller bow, and walked back inside the tower. Most likely to check. Erevan listened as his footsteps went further and further away, stopped, and then began drawing closer again. As he came to the doorway he nodded.

“Does that mean the basilisk is dead?” asked Nalion hopefully.

Bony nodded yet again. Nalion clapped his hands together in joy, his eyes bright as he probably thought of all the books in the basement. Erevan shook his head in fond exasperation. Someone who didn’t have their head in the clouds needed to step up.

“Is there anything else that will kill us in the entrance or basement?” asked Erevan, focusing his intent gaze on Bony’s bony face. The skeleton shook his head.

“How about in the rest of the tower? Or the other towers?”

Bony nodded, while doing a so-so gesture with his other hand. So there were more dangers ahead. Or at the very least potential dangers

“Can you get rid of them for us?”

Bony shook his head. That was a pity. But then again Erevan had already guessed so since the skeleton had done nothing to the basilisk looming in the basement. Though he probably didn’t have any access to roosters or weasels so it kind of made sense.

The skeleton, half-elf, elf, pocket-dragon and rooster made their way to the staircases. Bony gestured for them to follow him up on the spiral stairs, but Nalions gaze was fixed on the angular stairs leading down. The elfs eyes were positively shining with excitement. Well, Nalion could pour through some books while Erevan looked for valuables. Who knows what the basilisk might have hoarded, or what travelers might have met their demise in the basement?

“Go on then,” he said gruffly.

Nalion practically flew down the stairs. The movement was so sudden that Spiro, who was currently perched on Nalion’s head, almost lost his balance. The dragon gave Nalion a disgruntled look, which went completely unnoticed by the elf. Erevan shook his head fondly. The prospect of the books seemed to make Nalion lose his concentration on his spell, as the rooster beside Erevan began to suddenly grow larger and shed his bright feathers.

He walked down briskly, not waiting for the transformation to end. First he checked on Nalion, finding the older mage already sitting down cross legged in the middle of a bunch of dusty books - pulling the one closest even closer so that he could make out the title. Erevan smirked as he casually strolled past the bookish elf and began searching through the room. He could hear Ilias offering to help Nalion, if there was anything specific the other was searching for. Erevan tuned out their voices as he began his own search.

He made his way forward gingerly, lifting books and larger pieces of wood, making dust fly up all over the place. He sneezed as a particularly big dust cloud wormed its way up in his nostrils. He glared viciously at it as if it had personally insulted him. Which he felt like it had, invading his personal space like that and all. He continued his way carefully as he wiped his now slightly runny nose on his shabby sleeve.

Next to a far away wall, he could see the corpse of what he presumed must have been the basilisk. The reptile was huge, resembling an odd mixture of a snake and a dragon. Except it had eight legs, four on each side. Its pale blue scales served as natural armor and it had sharp red horns from the top of its head all the way through the back to the top of the tail. Erevan drew out his swords as silently as he could. The likelihood of the basilisk being deceased was very high. Even if he didn’t fully trust Bony, which he didn’t, the stillness of the body would have clued him in.

Yet he had to be sure it wasn’t just sleeping extremely soundly. Swiftly and gracefully he closed in, plunging his sharp swords into the creature's tough and scaly neck with effort.

Erevan lifted his swords away, muscles complaining as he needed to strain even with this. He wiped an errand sweat droplet from his brow. Now it was definitely dead. Satisfied with this, he cleaned the swords and sheathed them before creeping further into the basement. He was nearing the end of the room when he noticed something glittering from the corner of his eye. He knew it! The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. Then he thought of how pumped Hama would have been and a frown washed away any traces of elation.

He glanced back towards Nalion, positively buried in books. Several of them were open in front of him. It seemed he couldn’t decide which one to read first, so he was reading them all simultaneously. It was quite amusing to watch. He didn’t comprehend how Nalion could take in anything while constantly flitting between different subjects. Maybe that was why he could never seem to finish that damned book they had found at the bandit hide-out.

Erevan let out a small sigh as he focused on the possible loot. After a bit of rummaging around, he’d found several stony limbs. Some of them were damaged beyond recollection. They must have been adventurers, who had fallen victim to the gaze of the basilisk.

He’d also found what he assumed was their possessions. All in all, there was a sizable amount of gold as well as an interesting necklace. It was made of a simple, thin and delicate string which was tied together in a knot. Despite its looks it was unwavering as Erevan gave it a test tug.

There were seven fragile looking balls were securely attached to the string. All of the seven were dark, though Erevan could swear he could see a flicker of fire every now and again if he strained his vision. They felt warm to the touch, almost as if they’d been lying in direct summer sun for days instead of being trapped in a dusty old basement for who knows how long. They were most likely magic. He’d have to ask Nalion.

Lastly, there were three odd rocks. They were all smooth, light gray with a weird squiggly symbol etched on to each of them. It almost looked as if a face was yelling. Weird. Their shape made it so that one stone fit perfectly into his calloused palm. He had no idea if they were something potentially valuable, or if they were just some strange rocks someone had carved upon in boredom. Though why anyone would do that was beyond him. It would merely blunt a perfectly good knife.

He beelined to where Nalion and Ilias were sitting amidst an ever-increasing mound of books. Ilias lifted his head as the ranger was nearing them whereas Nalion was in deep concentration. The scrawny elfs hazel eyes flitted from one open book to the next. Erevan frowned at them while he waited for Nalion to notice his presence. He didn’t want to interrupt if the other was in the middle of something important.

His mind began to wander towards beer as it often did, especially in times of boredom, mixed in with the mysteries surrounding the Order. He really should ask Nalion more about it now that they’d been traveling together for a while. Though he would need to wait for the human to leave first as there probably was a good reason Nalion was hiding things.

Erevan came back out of his musings as Spiro landed on his shoulder, cooing. His hand rose involuntarily and began to pet the small dragon's warm head absentmindedly. This was when he realized he’d been staring at an increasingly nervous-looking Ilias the whole time. The human was fidgeting slightly where he sat, then stilled as if he realized what he was doing only to start fidgeting once more a few moments later.

The embarrassment of being caught staring and lost in his head was a difficult emotion to deal with. It instantly combined itself with thoughts of how the other must think him weird and rude and how easily the human could mock him…

So, instead of looking away or explaining his intense staring, he frowned deeper in order to conceal how small he felt at that moment. That’s when he noticed that Ilias’ mouth was moving as words poured out of it. Huh. Wonder how long that’d been going on.

“- anyway so. I like books. For reading. An-”

Erevan interrupted the incessant rambling by dumping half of the gold on top of the book laying in Nalions lap. The gold was gathered in a fine leather pouch which he had found. It was similar to the one he had taken for himself, for his share of the gold. As the heavy pouch landed on the book, Nalion jumped slightly in startlement. As the elf made eye contact, Erevan presented his other findings.

“Is there magic in these?” he asked gruffly.

Nalion reached for the necklace and the stones as Ilias peeked at them curiously. Erevan scowled in the human's general direction. In response, the younger mage hid his face in the book he had been reading before.

Nalion examined the artifacts with care, completely absorbed in what he was doing. The elf let out a low, contemplative hum as he lifted the necklace towards the light of the evening sun as it was cascading down in soft rays from the entrance. He then gently closed it in his fist and shut his eyes. His brows drew closer together in concentration and then smoothed, the small wrinkles on his forehead disappearing as if they were never there. Nalion opened his eyes and peered at the necklace curiously. He then went through the same procedure with the stones.

“I do believe there is some magic in them all, though it’s different in the necklace and the stones. I’m not sure on the type of magic but we could experiment?”

Erevan sighed. Of course Nalion wanted to experiment with unknown magic to find out exactly what kind it was. He should’ve known.

“What do you have in mind?” asked Ilias naively. Erevan rubbed his temple. Mages.

“Well, we cou-”

“No,” he interrupted impatiently. Nalion opened his mouth to argue, so Erevan continued speaking before the elf had a chance. “We ask Bony first.”

He stuffed his hand in his pocket in order to fetch the bell, only to be disappointed as he saw Bony in the staircase walking towards them. The skeleton had been waiting nearby and had most likely heard them. The ranger inwardly pouted as he took his empty hand out of his pocket. It had been fun to ring the bell and have Bony appear.

“Bony,” said Erevan seriously. “Do you know what these things are?”

The skeleton nodded.

He lifted the necklace first. “Is it dangerous?”

The skeleton nodded.

“Will it kill me if I wear it?”

The skeleton shook his head.

“Is it the warm balls that are dangerous?”

The skeleton paused, and then nodded. It took a while before Erevan realized what he had said and how it could be interpreted. It nearly made him blush, his cheeks heating faintly, but he covered it up with a deep, manly, frown. Damn it, why did his mouth have to blurt it out like that?

“Are they dangerous as they are or only when broken?”

Bony lifted up two fingers.

“So only when broken?” puzzled Nalion, looking interested.

The skeleton nodded.

“What happens then?” continued Erevan.

The skeleton brought his hands together and then quickly apart, mimicking an explosion. This made him smile. Could come really handy.

“Can they be broken while they are attached to the necklace?”

The skeleton shook his head.

That was enough for Erevan, as he looped the necklace around his neck and buried it under his shirt. It softly clanged with the ring hanging securely on its chain. He couldn’t wait to test his balls on some bad guys. From a safe distance of course.

“What about the stones?” Ilias joined the conversation with a polite tone.

Bony lifted one hand so that the four bony fingers were on top of the thumb and then opened and closed the gap several times. Receiving three flat stares, the skeleton took one of the stones from Nalion, brought it to his cheek and then repeated the hand gesture with his other hand.

“They make bird noises?” wondered a baffled Nalion, at the same time as Ilias asked “We talk into them?”

Bony nodded and pointed towards Ilias. Erevan made a “gimme” -gesture and the skeleton complied, giving him the smooth stone. Time to test what the hell that meant. Erevan put the stone in front of his mouth and spoke directly into the symbol, voice loud and clear.

“Hello?”

Suddenly Erevans voice boomed from the other two stones, “HELLO?”

The sound was so deafening everyone covered their ears in agony, making Nalion drop the stones he’d been holding. Even Bony had lifted his hands to where his ears would have been. If he’d been alive that is. The noise died down as quickly as it had begun, though it left a distinct ringing in Erevan’s ears. Sometimes it sucked to have good hearing.

Nalion slowly lowered his hands, wincing slightly.

“So it’s some kind of communication stone,” the druid wondered. The sound of his voice was muffled, as if the elf was speaking from under water. Erevan shook his head, trying to rid himself of the feeling. He then sighed as he resigned himself to suffer from the ringing for the time being. However, if they were to be separated for some reason, the stones could be quite useful.

“Rocky Talky,” Erevan named them appreciatively, while pocketing the one he’d spoken into previously. Nalion noticed this and picked the stones from the floor, slipping one in his pocket as well while giving the other one to Ilias. Erevans mood soured instantly. He didn’t want the human to be able to reach him whenever. The ranger made a mental note to himself to demand the stone back before Ilias left their company.

He glanced outside, seeing how low the sun had gotten. It was getting late. They should either head back or camp here.

“Come on,” he said as he started walking up the stairs. Nalion glanced back at the basement, a wistful look upon his features. Erevan shook his head, instantly knowing what the elf was considering, as he fondly scowled at Nalion, “Naah, we need to go rest.”

Bony nodded empathetically, and gestured for them to follow him upstairs again.

“Oh, we can rest upstairs?” Nalion inquired, ever curious.

The skeleton nodded again.

Erevan narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Is it safe?”

The skeleton nodded.

Erevan glanced at Nalion and Ilias. They did seem tired as well. But what if Bony was lying? But then again if the skeleton wanted them dead he could’ve just led them to the basement in the first place, before they got rid of the basilisk.

“Thank you! Will you show us there?” Nalion exclaimed loudly.

The skeleton nodded again and began walking up the spiral stairs, presenting a small red key from his sleeve in a flaunting manner. Erevan rolled his eyes. As they walked up, he could spot another obsidian dragon head ornament up ahead before they came to a stop in front of the first one.

Bony made sure that they were watching closely as the skeleton inserted the key inside the first dragon wall-statue-things mouth and twisted. A section of the wall moved, forming a door-shaped hole in the marble. Outside of the hole was a small, narrow marble bridge leading to one of the other towers. This bridge had no sides for safety, and only room for one person to be crossing at a time. Fortunately the tower was not very far away nor were they very high up.

Bony gave the key to Nalion, who was right behind the skeleton, and then stepped on the bridge. The skeletons' steps were confident and sure as he walked towards the tower. A small gust of wind tugged his clothing, yet it wasn’t enough to even cause the tiniest of stagger. Erevan sighed. Guess they were sleeping in there then.

He peeked down from where he stood. It was a small drop, and the lake was right there so they’d probably be alright even if they’d lose their footing. Unless there was something in the lake. He glared at it for good measure.

Nalion didn’t seem particularly concerned as he walked out to follow Bony, but then again the older mage did possess the ability to transform himself into an animal. Erevan wasn’t that worried either, he was used to balancing his way in an unsteady environment. It would most likely be the human who could be a problem. Perhaps this could be where they finally got rid of him. He mentally crossed his fingers.

He strolled outside to follow Nalion, hoping that the human would admit defeat and stay inside. Or better yet go to the town, or to wherever he came from.

And then there were steps behind him. Of course the idiot couldn’t just leave them alone. He barely managed to suppress the urge to shoot a withering glare towards the human, and that was mostly due to the fact that he wanted to concentrate on where he was going. He was not looking forward to finding out if there was something in the lake or not. In fact he’d die a happy man if he never had to find out. And if he had some beer of course.