Into the Light (Axe Druid Book 1)

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Into the Light (Axe Druid Book 1) Page 15

by Christopher Johns


  Not the case for her.

  Kayda zapped the man, who dropped her in his shock, and she flew to my shoulder again. The man cursed, and I asked if he was okay; he just walked away shaking.

  “Hey now,” I said in a heavy disapproving tone. “You can’t just go around shocking people like that. He could have been seriously hurt.”

  I got a definitive lack of caring from her as she preened her feathers. I swept her off my shoulder and let her fly to the forge. If she couldn’t play nice, I wasn’t going to be her ride. This also left the people here a little safer.

  I came to the forge, and Kayda was perched on the roof. She hopped down to my upheld hand, and we went inside. After a few hours of bouncing ideas off Rowland, I held a dagger and reached for my mana. This time, I kept my eyes open and concentrated on the fact that lightning causes damage, the sharp sting of it, the way it can paralyze you if struck. I pulled the mana away from my mana pool and sent the bolts of it into the blade. I realized that while before my lightning mana had been a yellow energy, it was now the same azure blue as my familiar’s. Sweet, I thought. I lost my concentration, and the enchantment failed, charring and ruining the weapon, unfortunately.

  I offered to pay for it, but the smith just informed me that he would have no such thing and that Jaken had made it for just such a purpose. He had made others as well: swords, daggers, and even a few shields. I guess I got to play with all of these, as they weren’t the best in the shop. They looked really nice, though.

  The next dagger I worked on, I didn’t let the lightning surprise or distract me. I focused on the damage and the element could do and that only. After I brought my now azure lightning to bear on it, the enchantment took effect and I got the result I was looking for—Lightning aspected damage. The damage rating was only +1 which Rowland informed me meant an extra one percent damage added to the actual damage of the weapon. So in this case, it was +1 to attack and +1 for the element equating to two percent more damage per attack. Not too bad for a beginning weapon. He also said that an enchanted weapon almost always doubled the price of the weapon when it sold.

  I spent the next couple hours enchanting. I failed at times because my concentration slipped or, as I comically found out, I ran out of mana. It was an informative time, and my level in enchanting went up by three so I was a level 4 enchanter. Pretty nice. The levels didn’t seem to do all too much for me now, but I imagined that as I got used to it and raised my level, it should get easier. Not to mention the special skills and abilities that could be gained like the one I had witnessed the blacksmith use. At least, that’s how it sounded from the way Rowland and my friends spoke about leveling craftsmanship.

  After that, Kayda and I went into the forest. While we were there, she took wing and began to hunt and prowl. We had some luck after I had shifted into my panther form and flushed out some game. It would have made me feel bad, you know since these weren’t the same crazed or infected animals I was slaying, but Kayda wasn’t killing and looting them just for experience. She was eating them the way she would have if she were a wild Roc. I wasn’t getting anything from these low-level creatures, the grouses and forest voles, but she was. When she was full after about twenty minutes of hunting, we left. As simple as that. I wasn’t going to make her gorge herself, and I didn’t want the local wildlife to take too big a hit.

  We spent the rest of the day going back to working on our bond, communicating thoughts and sights, emotions and concepts. The more we worked on this, the easier it would be for her to be my eyes and ears later on.

  At least I hoped.

  I needed to get a flying form of my own, but when I tried to acquire her shape, it didn’t seem to take. I think maybe the Roc is a little outside the realm of my abilities. I’d just get one later; hopefully we would be moving on soon. The quiet life was nice, but we needed to move on—we had a mission to complete.

  Chapter Eleven

  A couple more days of that routine and I was ready to go, regardless of what anyone said. My companions felt the same. I had leveled my enchanting up to level 7 at this point. My friends were in the teens since they had decent trainers, and Kayda had leveled since our hunts had begun in earnest. Level 2 looked good on her. She got three points per level and one natural one that applied on its own. Since she was my familiar, I put her points where best suited, not where they might naturally fall if she were wild. Her stats looked like this to begin with.

  Name: Kayda

  Race: Lightning Roc

  Level: 2

  Strength: 1

  Dexterity: 8

  Constitution: 3

  Intelligence: 4

  Wisdom: 1

  Charisma: 5

  Unspent Attribute Points: 3

  She was already pretty smart and agile. Her constitution worried me, though. One good hit and she would be hurting bad. She leveled after only two days of hunting low level creatures, so if we were to go after some big game she might level faster. Then again, she needed the HP now, so I poured it all into constitution. After I did, she looked a little more robust than she had before. The sixty HP did her some good. We would worry about her other stats as she leveled.

  The village was bustling as usual, people buying and selling wares. Nothing I could use, but it was nice to see.

  “Yo!” I heard Yohsuke shout.

  I turned to see him jogging toward me from the direction of the Inn.

  “Hey, man,” I greeted him. “Did we get word?”

  He nodded and began to jog back the way he’d come. Kayda took off after him, and I bounded off to catch up.

  We broke off from our jog as we reached the door and stepped through. The air inside the inn was comfortable as compared to the heat and humidity outside. The atmosphere here was almost homier than home? It was hard to put my finger on. Even empty, you felt welcome in this inn and tavern environment, and it was because of that welcome atmosphere that I was so much more comfortable here than most places. Sir Dillon stood before the group and smiled as we walked up.

  “Good,” he said. “Let’s begin. We’ve received intelligence that Maven Rock, a city a few days West of here, has reported citizens disappearing from the lower wards. We believe this to be the work of War’s minions.”

  “We don’t have anything concrete to work with?” I asked.

  “As of yet, no,” the old Paladin said, “but we have people among us who can relay messages to you and one has offered to teach the magic users among you how to do so.”

  My brows raised in surprise. Mental Message spells were game changers in some games. If you can talk over distances, you can feed information to others freely. I had to admit, I was curious to see how that worked here.

  Our host bid myself and a surprised Balmur to go the small courtyard out back.

  “Why not Yohsuke and Jaken too?” I asked.

  “I spoke with the person you are about to meet beforehand and informed them of your capabilities.” He cleared his throat. “She believed it best that the two of you learn this spell as the others’ magic isn’t suited to this kind of spell.”

  Fair, I thought to myself and looked to Balmur. He simply shrugged, and I followed him out the back door.

  Once we arrived, a kindly old lady, one I had seen tending some of the cats in the square, was sitting on a bench. The courtyard was usually a place that farmers preferred to take their drinks and food. It let them be outside under the stars and away from snooty noses who couldn’t handle the scent of hard work.

  The little old lady, slumped forward in age, wore a plain brown dress and her grey hair loosely plaited over her shoulders and hobbled toward us. Balmur reached her first; he gently grabbed her arm to steady her, and she reached out and touched her palm to his forehead gently. There was a mute burst of light that shone like a star even in the afternoon light, then nothing. Balmur let her go, then looked at me in confusion. The woman waved me over. I stepped forward, and she did the same to me. The same muted burst of light and I knew how
to cast the spell I needed.

  Abilities Learned

  Mental Message – Send a message to any person you are familiar with and allow them to respond instantaneously. Cost: 25 mana.

  That was cool. Wish I could have done that with enchanting. The lady was walking away by now, and I wasn’t sure she would say anything to us anyway. She seemed content to keep to herself.

  After she left, we walked back in, and the old Paladin was waiting for us. He had us pull out our map and indicated the area we were heading. Like before with Kayda, the area to search was rather large, but I figured we could see it from a distance once we got closer.

  We decided to spend the night in town and head that way in the morning. We relinquished our bladed weapons to Rowland for maintenance, and Bokaj cared for his bow himself. Yohsuke didn’t have to do anything, but from his grumbling, I could tell he was making decisions on abilities. I had gotten a couple myself but nothing I was keen to use just yet—fireball and a new ability that allowed me to charge spells. They were mana burners, and I was looking for a chance for them to be of use other than something flashy and stupid. No real reason to be stupid. So far. I smirked at the thought.

  Rowland and some of the other villagers joined us in a rather tame goodbye party. We let them know that we would be back before we moved on past the city. Yohsuke’s trainer came, an elderly Elven woman who wore her wrinkled skin with regal pride. She kept her hood up, so I couldn’t make out much of her actually, other than her pointed smile and dainty fangs. My Spell Blade friend waved off my question, making me think that she didn’t like talking about it.

  We turned in early that night, wanting to be well rested for our travels. I had procured some items I thought we might need. I also spent some time working on my enchanting. I was leveling up a little faster now that I knew how to use my mana correctly, but I felt I was missing some kind of fundamental knowledge somewhere. Damn miserly Gnome and his dick-ish ways.

  * * *

  I laid down on my bed, closed my eyes, and—not for the first time since I had been to this world—dreamt of my son. His smiling face and blue eyes were beaming up at me while he ran around, encouraging me to chase him. The sky was a cloudy blue that would be described as a perfect day. We were at the park we played at a few times with a lot of houses nearby. His small, surprisingly muscular arms were waving back and forth as he sprinted away from me, screaming in joy. Peace and calm enveloped me; my muscles eased. This. I missed this.

  I smiled and blinked, and his cries of joy turned to terror. He screamed. Not out of fear but genuine horror and pain, and my blood ran cold. He screamed for his daddy to come and help him. The sky blood red and the world around me aflame—I could see him in some shadow beast’s claws, tears in his eyes as he begged me to come to his aid.

  Rage and fury gripped my being as I started forward toward him, but the flames grasped at my limbs and held me still. I struggled harder as voices began taunting me. The shadow beast growled in delight, and I shifted into my bear form without thinking. I pulled harder and roared my fury at the world.

  “CHRIS!” several voices shouted into my ear, my real name breaking through. The world shattered, and I came awake to the dawn light and my friends dangling from my arms. Jaken had his arms as far around my waist as they would go, Balmur dangled from my left arm as he hung on, and Bokaj was wrapped around my swinging right arm. Yohsuke was on my shoulders, punching me in the head.

  I shifted back, and we all went down into a pile with a series of grunts and curses.

  “What the hell, man?” Balmur asked. “What happened?”

  I explained the nightmare to them, and everyone seemed to understand. The room was a wreck. When I shifted, I had broken the bed, and my furniture was clawed and gouged. The rest of our party had piled into the room thinking we were under attack. I just took ten gold out and pushed it into Sir Dillon’s hand. He understood and tried to give it back to me, but I shook my head and left the room. The dread had gripped my soul, and I needed to be alone at that moment.

  I walked outside, and Kayda perched on my shoulder. I gently brushed her off, and she flew into the sky. My friends tried to follow me outside, but Sir Dillon stopped them, “Let him be, boys. Let him be.”

  I walked into the forest and began sprinting to try and get my still restless body under control. It felt good to actually run, and in this body, I moved faster than I ever had before. After five minutes at a dead sprint, springing over obstacles and dodging trees, I felt better. I found a log to sit on and just sat there in silence. Warmth dripped into the fur on my face, and I realized that it wasn’t sweat but tears. That nightmare, like so many before it, had been so real. The threat, fueled by my anxiety, was never real.

  But now that there was one that could do that? Fuck. FUCK. My slightly heaving chest began to spasm as I let the tears flow until they were gone. I had lost track of how long I sat there with Kayda cooing softly from a tree nearby, but eventually, I picked up movement larger than the native wildlife. I looked up, and Sir Dillon came out of the tree line with a soft expression on his face.

  “I know your fears, Zekiel,” he said simply. Rather than fire back that he didn’t or that he couldn’t possibly understand, I shut my mouth and let him speak.

  “When I was young, before the call to serve the Lady, I had a son.” He sat next to me and stared into the partially wood-covered sky above us. “He was a beautiful lad, auburn hair, stubborn streak a league wide, and the brown eyes of his ma. He would come out and play in this very forest on his own and did not heed the warning of his parents, but back then we didn’t have to worry about the crazed beasts that you and yours slew. Still, like any good father, I worried. I let the boy make mistakes but guided him and taught him as well as I could.”

  He picked up a stick in front of him and looked at it for a moment before I had to ask, “Did something happen to him out here?”

  “Nay,” he sighed. “It happened after the call to serve Her Light came to me in a dream. By this time, he was on the cusp of manhood and I was a Paladin already. He had thoughts to join the order himself. It was then that tragedy struck. He was in the area of that first battle with the dark forces of War, and one of the Generals slated him for being on his way away from the fighting. Your fears are well-founded ones. If you do not stop them here—they will go to your world and slaughter your son as they did mine, but here, you have a chance that they do not. You can make a stand.”

  He clapped me on the shoulder and made me look him in the eyes. “You can protect your son, where I did not protect mine. Do not let him become a victim. I will help you and yours however I can, I swear it, but you cannot let this destroy you. Use it.”

  He clenched his fist in front of him, the leather of his gloves creaking a bit, and held it before me. I nodded and bumped it back. Jaken must have taught him that.

  “Thank you, Sir Dillon,” I said and stood up.

  “Aye.” He clapped me on the back. “While we walk to the tavern, will you tell me of your son?”

  I nodded and we began a slow walk back to the village, stories about my son and his adventurous nature renewing my spirit to fight for him.

  During breakfast, we got our final briefing from Sir Willem.

  “Maven Rock is a few days away by horse,” he explained. “Between our village and your destination is a swamp area that spans the forest exit to the west, then the plains. I’m going to venture a guess that none of you have mounts?”

  We all looked at each other and shook our heads.

  “Well, I hope you’re okay on money because they cost a pretty penny.” He sighed and told us to go to the stables on the outskirts of town to the south—a portion of town I hadn’t been to yet, to be honest.

  “Good luck, my friends,” the older Paladin said and shook each of our hands.

  We left for the stables. A few of the villagers stopped to wish us luck, but it was a solemn walk otherwise. The stables were what one might expect—a home tacke
d on to what looked like an open barn. The stalls each held horses of various colors and sizes. The owner of the village stable turned out to be a Dwarf by the name of Swelles. He looked like he could have been Rowland’s twin, but he had silver hair and a bushier beard.

  “Ho there!” he greeted us kindly. “Be ye seeking mounts?”

  I smiled at how direct he was. “Why yes, sir, we are.”

  “I can get ye mounts.” He nodded sagely. “Don’t ye be afeared. Hopin’ ye have the funds for it, though. It stops most from trying to get a mount worthy of them. Horses like the ones ye see behind me will boost speed by a quarter but can only be rented. Once ye travel so far, they get tired and spooked easier, but they’re a reasonable price. Only cost ye about twenty gold a day and any time ye dismount after the final day, the horse will take off for the nearest stable. If the beast is killed or hurt, you have to pay another fee as well.”

  “That sounds rough, considering what it is we have ahead of us,” Jaken said.

  “Aye, that it does, but most people don’t travel much these days,” he said simply. “Royalty, nobles, and the well-off can afford to buy their own mounts or steeds to do what they like. Or even breed their own. Even adventurers who go to the dungeons and questing can save up for a horse of their own. Two hundred gold per steed. Most hold out and stay near their current location until they can afford it, some never can. It depends.”

  I whistled softly. We could afford that easily, and I would be perfectly fine after. I wasn’t tracking the others’ funds, but I’m sure they should be fine too.

  “Now, afore ye decide,” he held his hands up quickly, “there be options, so hear Ol’ Swelles out, now.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a whistle. It looked to be carved from stone, a slender tube about the size of his pinky. He blew on it, and a second later, a large goat with a saddle bolted toward him from behind our backs. The goat was a solid, stocky thing with great horns and intelligent eyes. His shaggy, brown fur rustled in the breeze as his caller patted him.

 

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