by Aaron Oster
Morgan did as he was told and turned back to try and fashion himself something until he could get his hands on another outfit. It was the simple and mundane act of Sarah demanding he do something he wouldn’t have otherwise noticed that really started to get the idea across that if he succeeded, he’d be back with her soon. And even if she tended to be a bit bossy when it came to certain things, he couldn’t have been happier to hear her once again.
He’d been worried that she wouldn’t be able to talk to him as she’d said, and even though it was a bit odd to talk to her this way, it was better than nothing.
It took him a few minutes to gather some vines and twine them around his waist in a way that gave him a modicum of modesty, but when he tried to ask Sarah if she was happy with it, he got no response.
“I guess her time is really limited,” he muttered.
A warm feeling spread through him at the thought that she’d sacrificed the little time she had per day for his benefit. Then again, he honestly didn’t know how it worked and figured that he’d find out over the next few days.
With his makeshift vine skirt/pants on, he headed to the edge of the bubble and shot into the air, heading back in the direction of Spirit Town.
He arrived shortly before dark and had to wait until the city had calmed down before sneaking in once more. Making his way past the guards was easy enough now that he’d already done it, and just a handful of seconds later, he was standing inside the temple once more.
“You made it back?” the shaman asked, the surprise clear in his voice.
“Were you not expecting me to?” Morgan replied, approaching the old and wrinkly troll.
“Um…no?” the shaman answered.
“Wow. So, you basically sent me to my death,” Morgan said flatly.
“You would have gone either way,” the troll replied with a shrug. “I just helped you out so you wouldn’t kill me.”
Morgan blinked several times, wondering how crazy this shaman really was.
“Seriously?”
The shaman cracked a smile and cackled to himself, giving Morgan the answer to his question. The level of crazy this old troll was definitely leaned closer to the ‘bat-shit’ side of the scale.
“How long have I been gone?” he asked, taking a seat before the old troll.
“I think I saw you about a month ago, if I’m not mistaken,” the shaman said.
“What?!” Morgan exclaimed, feeling his heart leap into his throat.
“Then again, it could have been yesterday…” the shaman continued, making Morgan realize that he was, once again, being messed with.
“Can you please just give me a straight answer?” he asked with a sigh. “Time is kind of important right now.”
The old shaman must have seen how serious he was because he nodded.
“You were last here three nights ago,” the troll said.
It had been a week since he’d started his journey, which meant that half his time had already elapsed, and he still had most of his mission remaining.
“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head. “Now that I’ve cleared the Well of Eternal Youth, can you please tell me where the last one is located?”
“Well, I did promise,” the troll said with a wink.
When Morgan didn’t laugh at the awful pun, the troll just let out a snort and mumbled something about a lack of appreciation for the classics. He cleared his throat several times, then launched into his explanation.
“Finding the Well of Consciousness isn’t as simple as just following a trail to a specific area. Luckily for you, you’ve already completed the prerequisites for being able to see its location once you’ve arrived in the area.”
“By that, I’m assuming you mean bathing in the other two Wells?” Morgan asked.
“Indeed,” the old troll croaked. “The Well of Consciousness can only be seen by those who have already bathed in the waters of the Soul Well and the Well of Eternal Youth. Unlike the first two, this Well will demand a toll unlike any other.”
He paused, leaning in as though preparing to tell Morgan a very important secret. But when Morgan leaned in as well, the troll whispered, “You’re going to have to fight a Guardian.”
“Wait, that’s the big secret?” Morgan asked, wondering if the troll was pulling his leg again. “I’m going to have to fight?”
“Yup,” the shaman said, leaning back and grinning widely. “You’re going to have to fight.”
“And that’s it? There’s nothing else?”
“That’s it. Nothing else,” the shaman repeated.
“Then why did I have to go to the first two Wells before going to this one?” Morgan asked, wondering what kind of crackpot had set this system up.
“Because,” the shaman said.
“Yeah,” Morgan muttered. “I figured.”
The shaman just nodded, leaving Morgan with the almost unbearable urge to slam his head – repeatedly – into a wall.
“Where can I find it?” he asked instead.
“In the Arcane Kingdom,” the shaman replied. “There’s a ring of volcanoes lining a boiling lake at the very center of their lands. At the center of the lake, you will find another volcano. The entrance is somewhere around there…Probably.”
“Probably?”
“Well, I’ve never bathed in the Wells, so how should I know exactly where it is?” the shaman replied.
“Right,” Morgan muttered.
The two of them stared at one another for a few more moments before Morgan stood abruptly.
“I guess I’ll be going now,” he said, glad that this was the last he’d need to see of the insane troll.
“One thing before you go,” the shaman said.
“Yes?” Morgan asked, half-turning to glare at the old troll.
“Can I have that vine skirt?”
Five minutes later, Morgan was streaking through the air, flying toward the Arcane Kingdom, the homeland of the gnomes. The oversized robes of the old shaman flapped around him, but in his opinion, they were far superior to the vine pants he’d traded them for. According to the map in his head, it would take well over two days to reach the center of the Arcane Kingdom, especially if he didn’t want to be caught.
Unlike all the other races, the gnomes were known for their innovations, wards, and detection constructs. Once Morgan reached the border, he would be stuck moving on foot, which meant a whole lot of running. He still had no idea how he was going to get into the Arcane Kingdom undetected, and when he eventually found Gold, he was going to make sure to strangle the man for setting such an insane schedule for him to keep.
He knew the man must have his reasons, as Gold’s plans almost always unfolded as he’d predicted, but Morgan just wished he knew exactly what those plans were, for once.
If everything went his way, Morgan would reach the last Well on the night of day nine. If this took him another three days to complete, he would exit on the night of day twelve and would then have a little over a day to reach the Pinnacle, challenge and kill a goddess, and bring Sarah back.
Yeah, he thought to himself. Totally doable.
Flying across the Brutal Bayou wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience. He had to avoid cities several times, but for the most part, it was all misty wilderness. All he saw was the endless landscape covered in murky water and dark, twisted trees, and the same mists that gave him a strong feeling of unease.
Contrary to what he’d believed, Sarah reached out to him only three hours after he’d started flying. They exchanged a few short sentences before she went silent again, but even though they didn’t have a lot of time together, Morgan cherished their short conversations.
“I can see a barrier coming up, and I’m pretty sure there’s a wall in the distance,” he said, squinting his eyes and staring through the wall of reiki to see the massive green dome stretching out before him.
The swamps had been receding over the past few hours, showing that his time in the Brutal Bayou was coming to a
n end. It had taken him a bit over a day to reach this point, and this dome marked the borders between where the Brutal Bayou ended and the Arcane Kingdom began.
“How exactly will you be getting over?” Sarah asked.
She sounded worried, which, once again, sent a feeling of warmth flooding through him.
“I’ve gotten over tall walls in the past. I’m sure I’ll be able to manage.”
“Whatever it is you’re planning on doing, please be careful.”
“I’ll do my best,” he replied, drifting back to the ground.
Sarah didn’t reply and likely wouldn’t again for several hours more, but Morgan wasn’t too worried.
His feet touched down on the marshy ground, his boots sinking about a half-inch into the sodden earth. This was yet another sign that he was leaving the swamps and heading into a more friendly environment. Seeing as he was going from enemy territory and into even greater enemy territory, though, he was glad that at least the landscape was on his side.
He walked over to the barrier and stared at it, turning his head left and right until he could determine its purpose. From what he could tell, it was simply designed to alert the gnomes if anything flew, tunneled, or teleported in. But, if he were to simply walk through, he should be fine. So, Morgan did just that, stepping through the dome and feeling an odd rippling pass over his skin.
As soon as he walked through, the air quality changed. The mists that had been permeating the air vanished, and the ground solidified. More than that, he found that the wall that had seemed so distant from the other side of the dome was far closer than it had appeared.
It seemed like the dome did more than just scan for intruders. It also messed with the perceptions of those on the other side. The wall had appeared to be several miles away, but now, he could see that it was only a few hundred yards away, made of solid gray stone, and stood some ten yards tall. Worse, he could clearly tell that there was no way to get through, under, or over without alerting the enemy.
Teleporting, flying, or tunneling was completely out of the question, as was attempting to climb the wall or vault over it. From where Morgan stood, he could also see guards patrolling the walls, and the area between him and them was wide open and clear. The only reason he had yet to be spotted was because he was standing still at the very edge of the dome, and it was dark out.
The cover of darkness also wouldn’t help for long, as several sets of guards were running massive lanterns that shone powerful beams out over the intervening distance, so anyone attempting to cross the space would be caught within seconds. His eyes scanned over the warding scripts, looking for even the smallest signs of weakness, but he could find none.
It seemed that the gnomes’ notorious and brilliant reputations were not exaggerated, which left Morgan frustrated. There had to be some way for him to get through without being caught, and seeing as he was already on such a tight schedule, he had to get through tonight.
38
Not really having any ideas, Morgan began pacing around the far edge of the dome, walking along the perimeter of the wall and looking for any breaks or chinks in their defenses. He found none, of course, but it gave him time to think.
The gnomes had clearly gone to great lengths to assure that their borders were well-protected – even more so than the dwarves. Because while the dwarves had a wall towering over a thousand feet high, he’d still managed to get over using a combination of his skills. The insane amount of security was just another sign that they were up to something, because why would the gnomes go to such trouble and expense to guard the entirety of their border, unless they had something to hide?
He was sure that all of the other races had been infiltrated with spies sent by the gnomes, but the Arcane Kingdom itself likely tracked every mouse that entered just in case.
Morgan came up short as his mind flashed back to a particularly effective gambit he’d used back in the South Kingdom several years ago. Pulling something like that off here would be a lot more difficult, as he would be unable to use his skills, but right now, it was the only thing he could think of.
The gnomes had seemingly thought of everything, which meant that they would be overconfident in their security systems. They wouldn’t dream of someone trying to do what he was planning, so he was confident that if he could pull it off, he’d be able to make it in. There were many risks involved, of course, but that was what would make this fun!
So, turning in place, Morgan dashed back through the dome and into the mists. He had some hunting to do!
***
Pinto was angry. Who wouldn’t be, if they were stuck with patrolling their borders night after night with a brutal commander like hers? Aardvark was as strict as they came and constantly doling out punishments to anyone caught slacking on the job. She’d even heard a rumor that he’d had his own brother whipped in front of his entire garrison, just to send a message.
What annoyed her – and just about every other guard stuck with this shift – was that nothing ever happened! If they were dealing with constant raids or beast attacks, she could understand why they’d need all this security. But in her six years of walking these damned walls, the most exciting thing to happen had been when one of her cohorts had tripped and nearly fallen off the other side.
The wards that lined these walls had been created by the most powerful mage in the entire kingdom, and the Repelling Dome set four hundred yards from their position kept anything below rank 60 from even approaching. The constant need to keep shining lights over the intervening area seemed to be completely pointless as well, because of the aforementioned Dome.
Still, like the rest of her compatriots, Pinto didn’t dare complain out loud, for fear of incurring disciplinary action. She’d seen enough of her fellow guards be punished not to step out of line, but that didn’t mean she had to like what she was doing.
She walked past a fellow guard, and while she might have wanted to stop to chat or at least exchange a nod, she kept her eyes trained forward and pretended he didn’t exist. One never knew when Aardvark might be making his rounds, and the old bastard wasn’t happy unless he got to make an example of someone at least once a week. Pinto had enough problems to deal with, so the last thing she was going to do was take a chance.
She continued on her normal patrol route, turning along the curve of the wall and keeping her eyes locked forward at a forty-five-degree angle. This assured that she was always looking at the wall's interior just in case someone tried to sneak out of their kingdom at night.
It was one of Aardvark’s proudest achievements. He not only guarded the outside of the walls, but the inside as well.
Pinto came to her end line, the place where she’d turn and switch up her view to the outside of the walls. This was yet another way that Aardvark made sure they kept watching carefully. By constantly rotating the eyes on both the inside and outside, he assured that there was always a fresh pair to observe the area every five minutes.
The guard operating the oversized lantern that marked her turning point broke protocol and gave her a smile and small wave, one that Pinto did not return. He was a younger man, perhaps in his early twenties, which was probably why he risked disciplinary action to wave to a pretty girl. In his mind, it would be worth it, but to Pinto, who was happily married, it most definitely was not.
She turned, pretending not to see him at all, and swiveled her gaze to the bare land surrounding the walls. Of course, there was nothing there, but at least it was more interesting to stare at the Brutal Bayou than it was the bare landscape between the wall and the nearest settlement. Which, coincidentally, was a training camp for new recruits.
She felt a yawn coming on as she began her walk along the new route but suppressed it, knowing the fickle nature of her commander. Her tired eyes scanned over the darkened landscape, following the moving lanterns' paths as they illuminated small sections of the darkened area.
Pinto had tried looking for patterns in the lanterns' movements over the
course of her term here and had yet to find one. The lantern guards were given a new series of sweeping patterns every night – just in case. In case of what, though, Pinto wasn’t sure. By this point, she’d just given up on the reasoning behind her commander’s paranoia and decided, like all of the other guards in her regiment, that he was just nuts.
Her eyes continued sweeping across the landscape, taking note of the boring nothingness that was her job. She felt another yawn coming on, and this time, was unable to silence it. She paused for a few seconds, her mouth opening wide and eyes squinting shut. She rubbed the accumulated moisture from her eyes, then looked back out to the open landscape, already knowing that she was going to have to speed up her march a bit to assure she reached her checkpoint in time, when something unexpectedly caught her attention.
She rubbed her eyes, squinting out over the open area, sure that a combination of boredom and exhaustion must be causing her eyes to play tricks on her. She watched as a light swept out over the area, illuminating the ground and passing over the spot where she’d thought she saw something.
Her heart rate unexpectedly began to go up, the anticipation of something finally happening here almost too much to bear. But when the light swept over the spot, Pinto felt her hopes die down. There was nothing there, just as she’d thought.
She let out a long sigh, then turned to continue on her patrol, already knowing that she’d have to jog the entire way now if she were to check in on time.
A loud clanging sound that seemed to reverberate through the entire wall, rang out in the night air, causing her to jump and let out an alarmed squeal. The clanging was followed a moment later by an earth-shaking roar, and a moment after that, the entire area was flooded with light as the scripts drew on the reserves of power to make sure they could see everything in the area.
Pinto felt her heart skip a beat at what she saw, the lights illuminating their surroundings assuring that she couldn’t tell herself she was imagining things. Alarmed shouts traveled along the wall, and Pinto could hear the other guards rushing to fetch the repelling equipment. She could see why they were so frightened, and as the pack of gigantic Brutal-Plague Wolves slunk toward the walls, she berated herself for being dissatisfied with her earlier boredom.
