by RG Long
Arranus had all those black and silver banners, where Three Way had several of different color, hue, and design. Though they were as plentiful as the ones they had seen in Arranus, their varying hues and patterns made them seem much less ominous and dreary.
“Mister Ealrin,” Jurrin asked as they walked through a section of stalls and vendors who were selling wares as diverse and foreign to Ealrin as he had ever seen. “Let’s get something to eat.”
Ealrin chuckled.
The little halfling could eat just about anything and at just about any time as well. He felt quite full himself from the soup and bread but looked around at the food vendors all the same. They sold grains and leaves of varying sizes and colors. Pieces of dried or drying meat hung from the roofs of several stalls, though Ealrin could see that most of these were either lizard, fish, or bird.
There didn’t seem to be anything he’d recommend for Jurrin to eat. Then again, they didn’t have any money to buy food with at the moment anyhow.
“Not right now,” Ealrin said. “Let’s go see what that is,”
As he said this, he pointed over to a colorful garden right past the market stalls. It seemed to be full of every kind of banner and flower at the same time, while also having some impressive columns supporting a roof of stone. Jurrin’s shoulders drooped a little, but he still nodded.
“Alright, Mister Ealrin.”
He led the halfling away from the food carts and towards the garden. Ealrin knew it was hard to deny his friend food, but without stealing, he didn’t see how they could get anything from the booths at the moment.
“Bah,” Gorplin said as they walked closer. “These men need a steadier hand when it comes to stone. They’ve ruined it!”
The garden was surrounded by rough hewn stones stacked on one another about waist high. To Jurrin, they came all the way up to his shoulders. While Ealrin didn’t have Gorplin’s fine eye for stone work, he could tell that these rocks had been carved many hundreds of years ago and without much concern for handiwork.
A wooden gate, one that must have been replaced many times over the years, was due for a fix up as it was. It looked very rotted and worn by time. Ealrin pushed it open gradually and stepped onto a stone path. This led to a domed roof, held up by several stone columns. On each column, a long banner of a different color with different markings was hung. Under them, several small piles of wood chips and candles were laid out on the floor. Some of the candles were lit, while others were not.
The smoke wafted up and created a slight cloud inside the domed stone structure. Then something clicked in Ealrin’s head. All over Three Way, wood was the common building material. In fact, wood and grass were the only building material. Stone seemed to have been saved for this special garden alone.
Interesting.
“What’s all these for, Mister Ealrin?” Jurrin asked, bending to look at a red banner with a yellow star woven onto it. “They’re different than the others we saw.”
“I should hope so,” said a voice from behind the columns of stone. A young but stern looking woman stepped out into the garden path and clasped her hands in front of her. She wore a simple brown robe and a rope for a belt. On her chest, the symbol they had seen so prevalent in Arranus was sewn on a black piece of cloth that hung from her neck. She raised her eyebrow at them.
“You are not from Three Way,” she said, looking from Gorplin, to Jurrin, then at Ealrin. “I daresay that you are not from Ladis at all.”
“No ma’am,” Jurrin said with a bow. “We were just admiring your garden, ma’am.”
This only made her raise her eyebrow higher, a feat Ealrin found impressive given its already considerable height. The woman had bright yellow hair and gray eyes. They seemed to look right into each of them. Ealrin nearly felt as if he was somehow indecent in her presence, though he didn’t know why.
“This ‘garden’ is the sacred temple of Ladism, the religion of our great nation,” the woman said. “And I am Parda, its priest. I am here to guide the people of Three Way in the worship of the gods and help them to understand their paths in this life.”
“Ladism?” Ealrin said, trying out the word on his tongue. He hadn’t been here for long, but this was something he hadn’t heard yet. Not even from Holve or Silverwolf.
Parda sighed.
“I suppose you must be from Irradan or Ruyn. Those lands have never cared much for the gods.”
Ealrin and Gorplin exchanged looks. Jurrin just shrugged his shoulders.
“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am,” he said politely. “But maybe if you explained it to us, we could understand what you mean by Ladist...ism.”
“Ladism,” Parda corrected. “And come here, little one.”
Gorplin managed to stifle his laugh into a fit of coughing as Jurrin looked up at Ealrin, his own eyebrows raising slightly as he approached the intimidating looking woman. She knelt down and put on what Ealrin guessed she meant to be a warm, motherly face. It looked painful.
“Long ago, before the world we know here took its current form, all was chaos and calamity. The dark gods of ages past warred over the realms of men. That is, until one day, a shining light pierced through the darkness and drove back the heathen gods. That light was named Decolos. He is the god of Ladis and the hero of our nation.”
She pointed to her chest, indicating the silver skull engraved there.
“We honor Decolos for his driving out the darkness and bringing us into the era of light we now live in. The gods you see around us are his pupils, trained in the life after life to do great deeds of their own, and shed their light on us today. We strive to follow the path of light so that we too may join them and lead others ourselves.”
With this, she indicated the pillars that surrounded the circular dome.
“Though there are many more gods than these, we worship the twelve seen here and seek to follow their guidance.”
“Twelve gods?” Gorplin said. “Bah. That’s a tad too many.”
“Thirteen primary deities,” Parda said with a scowl. “There are several more not represented here.”
“Bah,” Gorplin said, looking at the pillars and mumbling. “Ought to pay more attention to the chisel and not these hangings.”
Ealrin was under the impression that Parda heard the dwarf but chose to ignore him.
“Do you understand, little one?” she said, turning her attention back to Jurrin and putting back on her motherly face.
“In a manner of speaking, mam,” Jurrin said, which Ealrin understood to mean ‘not at all’ but the halfling was too polite to say so. “Who’s this one?”
Jurrin pointed out the red banner with a yellow star on it.
Parda stood back up at her full height and folded her hands in front of her again.
“That is Raf, god of the suns. He watches over us during the day.”
“Bah,” Gorplin said, looking at a dark blue banner with three white circles. “And I guess this is Mufu, god of the moons?”
“Xi, Ti, and Ri actually,” Parda said, gritting her teeth.
Ealrin knew that look from Holve.
“Thank you,” he said, stepping forward and grabbing Jurrin by the shoulder and Gorplin by the arm. “We have to get back to Martta’s now.”
“Martta!? That she-devil!?” Parda nearly shouted with more disdain in her voice than before. Ealrin didn’t think this level of ire was something to be seen from such close range. He took a tighter hold of his two companions and ran for the gate, Parda’s warnings and name callings following him out into the street. Several passersby looked their way and either giggled or shook their heads and walked faster.
“What’s all this?” a gruff voice said. Ealrin spun around to see Holve standing in the street, hands at his side, but spear on his back. The old man didn’t go anywhere unprepared.
Ealrin loosened his grip on Jurrin and let go of Gorplin, who he was sure only allowed him to be pulled away because the dwarf wanted out of that temple area as well.
<
br /> “We just got a lesson in Ladis’ state religion,” Ealrin said in as much of a casual voice as he could muster. Really, he just wanted to get back to Martta’s to see what kind of deal Holve had worked up with her so they could all get some rest.
But Holve turned very serious at Ealrin’s comment.
“What happened?” he asked gravely.
“Well...”
It only took a few moments for Ealrin to explain, but Holve seemed interested in every detail. When he finished, the old man went from looking at Ealrin intently, to Jurrin. He knelt down and put two hands on the halfling and looked him in the eyes.
If Parda had attempted a motherly look, Holve was certainly trying to seem like a father to the halfling. Of the two, Ealrin would believe Holve’s sincerity over Parda’s any day.
“Put it out of your mind, Jurrin,” Holve said in a serious but kind tone. “Don’t worry about gods and deities. Focus on today and the people in front of you. No need to get your head in the clouds and miss what’s actually going on, hmm?”
Jurrin nodded.
“Yes sir, Mister Holve,” he said with a look of confused acceptance.
Holve stood up and brushed his front unnecessarily.
“Let’s get back to Martta’s,” he said to the three of them. “She’s got something planned for us.”
He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he turned and walked down the muddy street, back in the direction of the stalls and vendors and people running this way and that through them. He disappeared into the crowd in just a few paces.
Ealrin looked down at his two shorter companions before shrugging and following in Holve’s direction.
Holve had been on Ladis before. He was a wanted man here. What ghosts of his past were being brought to light now that they had returned? These thoughts accompanied Ealrin all the way through the crowded market until the sight of Martta’s stern face waiting for them at the door reminded him of another thought.
Parda hadn’t thought much of Martta. She had told them so, even though they were strangers and new to Three Way. What did the two have between them that would warrant such anger?
Ealrin shook his head.
It seemed there were more questions than answers he would receive anytime soon.
13: Hunt to Eat
Blume stretched as she walked through the murky jungle territory. Ealrin had woken her up, telling her she had slept nearly past breakfast. This was something her stomach would not allow.
Being a Speaker meant having a nearly insatiable appetite. Especially when magic kept escaping without the express permission of its user. Normally, Blume had come to the point where a few simple acts of magic would only make her hungrier during normal eating times. More intense magic would mean she would need greater amounts of sustenance and possibly a nap.
But, after she had her necklace of Rimstone brought near an ancient tree of great power, both she and her amulet had been a little unruly.
Blume was a self-taught Speaker, all except for a very short stint at a school of magic in a distant kingdom and an old tutor in a musty library. But even those days hadn’t been as effective to her training as the time she had spent reading the two books the halflings had brought from their village. Where the books had come from, who had brought them there, and how in the world a book on magic had ended up in the hands of a people so unmagical was all a mystery.
She didn’t have much time to dwell on these things, though. They had a job to do now.
Holve had told her that the continent of Ladis was not a very friendly place to magic users. He hadn’t told them why yet, but being yelled at in hysterics while being called a witch was a good enough indicator that he was right. Blume thought that was odd. Why would people hate magic? It was a wonderful thing.
Mostly.
“Where exactly are we going again?” Blume asked from behind Gorplin. They had been trudging through smaller and smaller paths through the dense jungle terrain for about an hour now. The trees were getting closer together and the vines that hung down from them seemed to be getting lower to the ground. Blume got the impression that this way had not been traveled for a very long time. Gorplin looked back over his shoulder and gave her a half shrug.
“Bah. East. To where ever Holve says we’re going. Something about lizards.”
The dwarf was, as always, less than helpful with information and more concerned about cutting things open with his ax. Gorplin fingered his blade carefully in front of Blume. She rolled her eyes.
Unhelpful dwarf.
Blume looked up and tried to see if she could see the sky. The trees were so thick. It was hard to see through these intimidating trees. Small parts of the blue above poked through, but very little. Blume sighed. She wanted to see the suns shining and feel the warmth on her skin, rather than the mugginess of the jungle.
It was beginning to wear on her.
“Ealrin?” Blume said, louder than she meant. He was upfront, talking with Holve and Silverwolf. The group turned quickly to look back and see. Ealrin smiled at her and started to walk back, but Silverwolf grabbed him and shook her head, pointing forward.
Blume stomped her foot in frustration but kept walking all the same.
This was the same treatment she had gotten once before. Like she was too little to be included in a conversation. A small bush on the side of the trails burst into flame and Blume felt a surge of magic pulse through her.
Oops.
She didn’t mean to allow her emotions to spew out of her in magical form. But these days, they just did.
“Go talk to her before she burns down the whole jungle,” Silverwolf said, shaking her head and consulting more with Holve, giving Ealrin a shove in Blume’s direction.
Ealrin stopped walking long enough for Blume to catch up. The only one who was behind her in line was Serinde. She didn’t say anything about the burning bush or Blume’s outburst. Steady and brooding, Serinde kept walking, daggers drawn and eyes all around.
“What’s wrong, Blume?” Ealrin asked, looking over his shoulder as the bush smoldered and burned. Blume followed his gaze. The vegetation around it was so damp that it couldn’t spread any farther.
“Where are we going?” she asked again, feeling her anger boiling up again, but trying not to let it burn anything close by.
She really had to get control of these magical bursts. If nothing else, the constant eating and napping would certainly become tiresome.
“Before breakfast, when you were finishing up your ten-hour nap,” Ealrin said, giving her a playful nudge. He was at least good at making her feel more at ease. “Martta told Holve about some of the problems Three Way has been having recently.”
“With lizards?” Blume said, looking up at the trees and scoping out the ones they had seen this far. The little creatures of the jungle didn’t seem like something they needed to be concerned about.
“She called them a different name,” Ealrin said. “Which I didn’t catch because I was coming upstairs to wake you up so you could eat. At any rate, there’s a small group of these things that have apparently attacked a caravan of goods needed for Three Way.”
“It’s not exactly a thoroughfare, is it?” Blume said with a smirk.
“Right,” Ealrin agreed. “And so, we’re out here in order to find the lost goods and the lizards who walk like men.”
“I hope they aren’t as tall as men,” Blume said, making a mental image in her head that she was sure was inaccurate. At least, she hoped.
“Taller,” Ealrin replied. “Or so Holve remembers.”
“Holve remembers a lot about Ladis,” Blume said, stepping over a taller than average root. “How long ago was he here again?”
“Uh,” Ealrin said scratching his neck. Probably swatting off a bug. They had gotten thicker the deeper they went into the jungle. Blume smacked one off her forearm. It was rather large and a sickly green color. It buzzed in protest and flew off to torment Gorplin. “Longer than either of us have been alive
?”
Blume nodded. She guessed as much. The old man had many secrets up his sleeve.
“And what are we supposed to do with the lizard things when we find them?” Blume asked. She guessed the answer wasn’t ask them nicely to leave.
“Get rid of them,” Ealrin answered, keeping his eyes forward.
At that moment, Blume saw Holve hold his hand up, signaling them to stop. And they weren’t the only thing. The entire jungle seemed to have just...stopped. Even the bug that was buzzing around Gorplin’s head flew off. The only sound left was that of the dwarf’s cursing. Gorplin hadn’t seen the signal.
Holve put his hand down and sighed.
“Must be something up further,” he said over his shoulder.
Silverwolf bounded ahead down the path. Holve put out a hand to stop her but seemed to give up. He turned to look at the rest of their company.
“Be cautious,” he said. “We don’t know where these things are nesting.”
“Nesting?” Serinde asked. Blume looked back to see her with her eyebrows raised in confusion. “I didn’t think we were hunting birds.”
“Veiled Ones will nest in holes in the ground,” Holve answered. “Not like birds at all. They prefer darkness and so will often sleep in caves. There are some up ahead about four lengths. We should be coming up on it soon.”
A whistle like the call of a bird came from up ahead. Holve nodded at it.
“Must be something ahead.”
He turned and walked down the path, which took a sharp left before going down into a type of small depression. The air felt cooler there, like water was nearby.
They came upon Silverwolf looking over the dead carcass of a huge creature Blume had never seen before. It wasn’t a horse. It was the size of four horses at least. Its skin was leathery and its face was a mixture of tusks and a long snout that must be as long as Blume was tall.
