“I haven’t seen that in forever,” Ren says, as he steps through the door.
Penny looks up from where she and Tiv are seated at the coffee table, indulging in some bread and pastries. She flicks the black ring into the air, and she catches it with a deft swipe of her hand. Tiv’s gaze darts from the ring to Ren and Gridel, the latter shutting the door behind her.
Penny smirks. “Yeah. I haven’t lost it, just so you know.”
Ren hasn’t really thought about it before, but the power of the ring is real, isn’t it? It brought them here, after the Sun’s Blessing, which is very likely a prayer to Ignis. But how did Mrs Russell get a hold of something like that in the first place? Could this ring have travelled from this world to theirs? If so, Ren can only think of one way, but…
Penny’s next question snaps Ren from his train of thought. “So, uh, where did you guys go?”
Ren strides over to the table, and Penny hands him a bun. It looks like a blueberry Danish, which Ren gives a big chomp. “Tried to get some medicine, got Claymore fixed up, that sort of thing.”
“Unsuccessful with the medicines, though,” Gridel says.
Penny’s face falls. “Oh, then… what do we do now?”
“We have to make do. Our analgesics are limited, so we have to avoid injury as far as possible.”
Ren sits himself beside Tiv, and Gridel sits opposite the boy.
“How’s the food?” Ren asks, gaze on Tiv.
Tiv glances away, still nibbling on his bun. “It’s okay.”
Penny nods. “I don’t know about you, but this is some of the best bread that I’ve ever tasted. Especially when it’s warm.”
Tiv mumbles something inaudible.
“What is it?” Penny asks.
“Bas makes better bread than this,” Tiv says. “He makes the best bread in the world.”
“The best bread, huh?” Penny hums. “Now, I’d like to get a taste of that.”
Tiv smirks. “Bas’ bread will blow your socks off, just you wait.”
It’s nice seeing Tiv being more open with them, although he still keeps rather quiet, and to himself, most of the time. And yet… what really concerns Ren is the boy’s future. They’ve not only ripped him away from the only community he called home, they’ve taken him to this town and away from the protection of the Duskbells, and now he’s got nowhere to go.
“What are you going to do now?” Ren asks. Tiv looks over at him, with that bread still in his hands. “We’re leaving on an expedition tomorrow, all three of us.”
Tiv drops his gaze. “I dunno.”
“The question is,” Ren presses, “whether you want to join us or not.”
“What?” Penny furrows her brows. “Are you crazy? He’s just a kid! And remember what Mavell said.”
“But he can handle himself. He’s good with a spear, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, but we didn’t exactly take his spear with us,” Gridel says. “We could buy one off Ripwael…”
“Or, we could just ask Mavell for one,” Ren reasons. “He’s the Captain of the Guard. He should be able to lend us one spear.”
“Whoa, wait.” Penny holds her hands up. “Why’re you guys talking like Tiv’s already coming with us? He might want to stay here, for all we know. It’s entirely his choice.”
All pairs of eyes fall on Tiv, who has swallowed the last of his bread. He glances from one face to the other. “Uh… I thought…”
“So, are you coming with us?” Ren asks.
Tiv nods. “I think so. If I stay here, then I’m going to be all alone, and we’re very near the temple, so… Wax and Zan could find me here. And if they do, I’m done for.”
He’s got a point. Tiv is stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he’s only picking the lesser of two evils.
“Welcome to the team,” Gridel says, flashing him a small smile.
“But you have to promise to stay behind us, okay? Don’t wander off on your own,” Penny says. Ren bites back a chuckle. She sounds almost like a mother. Speaking of which…
“Tiv, where are your parents?” Ren asks. “You and the rest of the kids at the temple, were you kidnapped or something?”
“Kidnapped?” Tiv shakes his head. “Nah. We had parents, then we didn’t. None of us do. We’d been living on the streets since a long time ago.”
“Living on the streets? You mean, as street urchins?” Penny asks.
Tiv wrinkles his nose up. “Street… urchins?”
Ren waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”
“So, you mean to say that you were homeless?” Gridel asks.
Tiv nods. “Yeah. My mum and dad died to the illness a long time ago, and then Minister Berg brought her men to reclaim the house and kick me out.”
“Kick you out?” Ren asks, raising a brow. “Why?”
“I dunno. She used a lot of big words, but then she just told me to skedaddle over to the Western End. You know, where all the poor people are.”
Penny shakes her head. “How could anyone do that to a child?”
Tiv hums, and he reaches for another piece of bread. “Then, Hal came along, and asked me whether I wanted to join him. I said yes, because I knew I was going to go hungry if I relied on scraps from the trash bins. He promised me a warm place to sleep and free food, so how could I say no?”
Ren never did think that Tiv would have had such a story to tell. And yet… something about it bothers him. Why would a minister come and throw a child out of a house and forcing him to brave the cold and the disease by himself? Did she not care at all for Tiv’s welfare?
“Wait, I just realised something,” Penny says. “Are you from Beville?”
Tiv nods. “Uh huh.”
“Wait, so… this minister… she works in the Clocktower?” Ren asks. The same place that Mavell, and apparently, Hal, worked.
“Uh huh.”
Now, that’s a first; Ren wasn’t quite expecting it. It’s no wonder that Tiv and the other children would have slipped under the government’s radar. If their ministers are black-hearted enough to send a vulnerable child out into the cold, they wouldn’t care about the disappearances of a couple of homeless children.
And Hal as well. Forcing children to train for combat, to conduct rituals for the Horseman of Pestilence? This man who promised them safety and security… is no less despicable than the officials of Beville.
Penny pushes her chair back, and she stands. “Well, I’m going to go talk to Mavell, to get that spear for Tiv. The rest of us should get as much rest as possible.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Ren has to concur. He has not yet seen the bedrooms this place has to offer, and boy, is he hoping for something soft and warm. He excuses himself second, and Gridel assures him that she’d get Tiv settled. (To which Tiv protested, rather vehemently, that he is a big boy and is capable of seeing himself to the bedroom.)
Ren ascends the stairs, Ifrit in one hand and the other trailing along the banister. He yawns, padding down the single, long corridor. The day’s weariness finally crashed down on him, leaving him nothing short of exhausted.
The moment he gets to bed, Ren’s surrendering to dreamland. That, he promises himself.
*
“There you are! Hurry!” Penny calls, hands cupping her mouth.
Ren jogs up to where the Beville soldiers are waiting, and where Penny, Gridel and Tiv are as well. Barking orders to his subordinates, Mavell stands with his back to them, arms folded, decked out in armour. It sort of makes Ren wonder whether it’s one of his suits displayed in his office.
“Sorry,” Ren says. He went to see Vane before they left, to make sure that his condition is still stable. It was, which the doctor reassured him with a kindly tone. He’d have nothing to worry about till they return.
“It’s about time we leave, if we are to make it back on the morrow,” Mavell says. He turns to Ren and company. “Now, let us depart. To Drasil Mountain we go.”
Drasil Mountain, which harbours a field of Duskbells. However, Mavell did say that Hal’s army would be vying for the same prize, and he doesn’t even know whether there would be any this time. All they can do, really, is to hope.
And so, Beville’s soldiers set off, marching down the beaten track through the piles of snow. Ren and the others follow behind. Neither Gridel nor Tiv speak a word, but Penny chats enough for all of them.
The air is freezing, but there is next to no wind, and honestly, Ren can only wish that it stays that way.
After walking for what felt like hours, they come to a fork in the road. The left path leads into a forest, filled with pine trees, while the right one would take them to an imposing mountain. Its base is nothing impressive—just a rough, jagged rock face with hardly any features. The only feature that Ren notices is the entrance to a tunnel, perhaps one that would deliver them to the very top. That must be their destination.
“Now, this is where the treachery of the journey begins,” Mavell says, more for the guests’ benefit than for his soldiers. “Dwelling within the mountain is a fearsome beast, known as the Nidhogg. It strikes fast and strong, and you must avoid getting caught in its jaws. If it does have you in its clutches, I doubt that you would be able to escape its iron grip.”
In other words, they’d be dead. Ren swallows thickly, taking a sharp breath, and wincing internally at the stabbing of the cold into his airways.
“Of course, the Nidhogg is not the only threat present in the mountain,” Mavell says, angling his head to look at Ren’s little band. “There are others, but surely, their might cannot be compared to that of the Nidhogg. As long as you keep your wits about you, you should be able to eliminate them easily.”
“What does it look like?” Penny asks. “The Nidhogg, that is?”
“It is a wyrm of the skies, much like the hydras of the seas, or the basilisk of the forests. The only safe place is to hide in the caves, but that would be impossible if we are to be harvesting the Duskbells on its summit.”
That… makes a lot of sense, actually. Then they’ve just got to defend the soldiers against the Nidhogg when it attacks, which Ren is certain it will. With Mavell leading the legion, the soldiers file into the wide tunnel. Ren lifts his gaze, looking up at the massive mountain, and the snow that covers it. It’s majestic, truly, like it belongs on a landscape painting.
He’s not seeing any sign of the Nidhogg for now. Maybe it’s terrorising some other hapless creature? Or perhaps it is still fast asleep? Do monsters even sleep?
“What are you waiting for?” Penny calls. “Come on.”
Ren’s attention flits back to the retreating backs of the soldiers as they disappear into the darkness of the cave. Gridel and Tiv have gone on ahead, with only Penny waiting for him closer to the entrance.
“Coming,” Ren calls, and he takes off after them with hurried footsteps.
*
The cave is dark. And damp. The walls are embedded with flowers of crystal, casting their dim, reflective glows on the walls, just barely enough to illuminate their way ahead. Penny sticks to Ren like glue, keeping one hand on his arm. As much as she loves the creatures of this world, poltergeists and ghosts are still most definitely a no-no for her.
Honestly, Ren doesn’t fault her either. If the mausoleum that was Mount Hilbeck was eerie, this place is just downright creepy, and the crystals’ light isn’t helping. Every bit of light makes the shadows darker, makes them almost seem like hiding places, where something could reach out and—
Tiv shrieks. He stumbles forward, crashing to the ground on his stomach. The other soldiers turn back to look, and Gridel is instantly by his side. In one swift move, she whips out a bolt from her quiver, and she stabs it down on the black claw that’s got Tiv’s ankle in a tight hold. The claw lets go of him, and it retreats into the darkness.
What was that? What did Ren just see…?
“That was a ghoul,” Mavell says, his voice echoing in the tunnel. “Creatures that hide in the shadows and ambush their unsuspecting prey.”
Penny stiffens. “Wait, are you telling me that the cave is full of these?”
Mavell nods. “Indeed. They’re rather commonplace here on Drasil Mountain. Best watch your step, and keep to the glow of the crystals. Stay clear of the walls.”
Keep to the light, and don’t go near the darkness. Got it.
Gridel helps Tiv up, and ushers him towards the middle of the path, away from the walls. Ren makes sure to keep a distance from the spots of darkness too.
Once or twice, hands of black reach out from the shadows, grabbing at people who get too close. However, the soldiers are quick to react, and slice off the limbs, or stab them through, before the ghouls can make their move. Never did Ren ever see anything beyond hands and feet, though, not even a sliver of their faces… if they even have faces.
The tunnel soon widens, and it delivers them to a chamber. However, this chamber appears… occupied. Or not, depending on how you want to see it. Huddled against the crevices are what look to be skeletons dressed in armour, the same kind that their Bevillian companions are wearing. Next to them are their weapons, blades stabbed into the ground, spears leaning against the wall, and chakrams and whips lain next to their bodies. Ren has absolutely no idea how many there are, but judging from the piles, and the smell…
Penny gulps. “What… what is this place?”
“A graveyard. It’s the least we could do for our brethren who perished in the line of duty,” Mavell says. “Scavenged what little we could of their remains, and brought them down from the summit, to keep them from being feasted upon by the Nidhogg and other wyrms.”
“Then the ghouls?” Gridel asks.
“They don’t touch the flesh of the dead… but it seems that our friends have rotted away anyways.” Mavell keeps his gaze on the road forward. “Let’s push onward.”
He doesn’t seem to want to linger here any longer than necessary. Ren and Penny exchange glances. Tiv’s gaze flicks from skeleton to skeleton with disinterest, and Gridel continues on ahead with the rest of the legion.
*
The ghouls no longer pose a threat when they reach the uppermost caverns, since the sheer abundance of the crystals means that each and every nook and cranny is illuminated. Ren ducks under a low overhang, with Penny trailing behind. Just in front of them is the mouth of the cave, one that Ren had been looking forward to seeing for the past hour or so.
“This path ahead leads to the summit,” Mavell says. “Watch your step. The ice makes it rather slippery.”
And there are no railings. Not that Ren expected to see any. However, from the angle of the inclines and the time that they had been walking for, he can’t imagine that falling from this height would be pretty. His worries were further reinforced when he emerges from the tunnel.
The final slope that they have to climb to reach the top is nothing more than a ledge. Although it is barely broad enough for two people to stand on, the soldiers march on in a single line without losing pace, as if unafraid of the consequences of the plummet.
As fearless as always, Gridel strides on, trudging through the snow. Tiv practically hugs the wall while tottering along behind. Penny is the next to go, her back also pressed to the wall and dragging along its rough sides as she edges along the ledge. Ren decides that he’s going to join her in doing that.
The wind up here is stronger than before, embracing the mountain with a ferocity that could knock a human being off if they’re not careful. Snow gets in Ren’s shoes, the powdery substance clumping around his soles and melting readily. He grits his teeth to stop them from chattering, and he prays that his ears wouldn’t freeze.
So far, the journey up this last stretch is more peaceful that Ren imagined. From all the talk about how terrible the Nidhogg is, he sure hasn’t seen hide nor hair of it. Neither wing nor whisker. In fact, as long as they go slow and steady, they’d have no fear of falling. Mavell is the first to reach the peak, then his first soldiers, then the rest.
Ren is the last to stumble into the snowy clearing. A massive tree stands at the other end of the flower field, the white snowy patch dotted with purple. The same purple as the Duskbell Extract that Ren saw back in the hospital. And it doesn’t look like anyone’s picked them for a while.
“Well, I’ll be,” Mavell says. “I thought we’d come to an empty field again.”
“That means that Hal’s army hasn’t been here yet, right?” Ren says. “So, all these Duskbells are ripe for the picking.”
“That’s right.” Mavell turns to his men. “Jonello’s unit, harvest the flowers, quick!”
Half the soldiers salute him, and they rush off towards the fields, kneeling, nestled in the Duskbells and ripping them from their stalks. Penny steps forward to help with the effort, only for Mavell to grip her shoulder and pull her back.
“What is it?” Penny asks.
“We will leave the harvest up to Jonello and his men,” Mavell says. “For now, there is something more important that we have to do.”
Gridel folds her arms. “And that is—”
A booming roar echoes all around them. Ren whips his head about. Where did that come from? What made that?
“Our enemy is not the Duskbells,” Mavell says, drawing his sword. “But rather, their guardian.”
The boss of the mountain. As if on cue, a massive dragon rises up from below, soaring high into the air. Its long, serpentine body is a sleek silver, scales glinting in the light of the sun. The other Bevillian soldiers draw their weapons as well, staring up at the creature with mightily beating wings and a whip-like tail ready to lash out.
It roars, spittle flying from its mouth as it glares at them.
“Everyone, on your guard!” Mavell demands.
Ren raises Ifrit, prepared to attack when the creature does. This dragon, or wyrm, must be the Nidhogg, and according to Mavell, it strikes fast, and viciously.
Fast, but how fast? Vicious, but how vicious?
Well, they’ll soon find out.