Ruby- Lost & Found

by M. D. Grimm

  I stepped up to the pedestal and, as always, felt the surge of power the Pferun Dulleriin let off. Desire for them welled up inside me, but I shoved it away; my knowledge of the stones’ true power allowed me to resist their seduction. Their temptation. The only limitations to their powers were the imagination of the possessor. It was said that it took some time before the possessor could truly tap into the real power of a stone, but once he or she did... It wasn't a good thought.

  In fact, it made me shudder with fear. And I didn't fear. Fear was for lesser creatures, those under the control of someone else. I was under no one's control.

  Not all of the Pferun Dulleriin were created equal. Some offered more power than others. I had one of the major power stones, a diamond called Dilacheuj. The other four stones were minor, only giving control over one or two elements. The major stones were the most dangerous; they had power over every element, every aspect of life. But, despite the help these gemstones could give the possessor, they were still deadly. The easy abuse of them would lead to more destruction than I was comfortable with. They were addictive, a drug that you kept using until it controlled you.

  Their sizes and shapes varied, but all of them were brilliant in their color. Garchej, a garnet which controlled fire, was the size of my thumbnail, while Menakeju, an aquamarine, controlled water and was the size of my fist. But anyone coming across them would know they were special, unique, even if they didn't know they were a stone of power.

  It wasn't easy to deny them, to turn away and reject what they offered. I still battled against the inherent desire for more power, to rule Karishian as I saw fit. But I wasn't an ignorant novice. I knew them for what they really were.

  I had to see for myself that they were all still there. I had been truly fearful that one of them had been stolen, somehow. I didn't have any reason to doubt my own magick, my own fortifications, but when I was gone so long, the worry would build, until I had to see for myself that everything was how it was supposed to be.

  Dilacheuj called to me louder than the others. She begged me to consider the gifts she could give me, the power to create peace in my world, the power to stop all war and to assert my will over everyone, to make Karishian safe and under my control. Sure, I felt the pull, the desire. I felt my thoughts stir, but I consciously dismissed her and the rest.

  While the original number of stones was unknown, any mage who came across them would know their names and what they did. They were connected intimately to mages, and even the weakest mage would know the power of the stone they held in their hands. The stones "talked" to us, pleaded and begged and cajoled, but I wasn't fooled. No matter how innocent and soft their voices sounded, they were vipers in the grass, ready to strike when your back was turned.

  Letting myself take a steady breath, I turned away and left the room. The moment I stepped onto the stairs, the slab of stone appeared once more, unbending and unyielding. Satisfied and hungry, I jogged down the stairs and looked back to make sure nothing of the door showed. Nope, just wall. Simple illusion magick, perhaps, but damn handy. ***

  I ate breakfast the next morning and hardly tasted it. My massive library didn't pique my interest or curiosity either. Geheimnis was quiet, which was in stark contrast with the life that was never still in Vorgoroth. The boygles never made any noise; they were invisible, never in the same room as I was. The gargoyles had their same lame jokes, their grinding voices barely heard over the howl of the wind around the tower. The combination of the biting cold and their humorless jokes drove me back inside. I tried to paint, but I ended up just staring at the canvas and the oils, feeling no motivation to create.

  The crystal caverns inside the mountain were a sight to behold, as usual. But even their pure sheen and musical notes couldn't stir anything inside me. I gathered what I needed and left, climbing up the craggy steps, which I reminded myself, for the hundredth time, I needed to replace. They were literally crumbling under my feet. I shut the door behind me and veiled it to look like a wall. For a second, nothing happened. Then, the illusion slowly coalesced.

  I scowled. I should be thankful nothing worse happened, like the spell lashing out at me, but instead I was just irritated that my desire for the magick to work was lacking. I shuffled into one of the larger parlors and fell onto one of the cushioned chairs that sat in front of the grand fireplace. I stared into the flames, and my eyes narrowed.

  I was bored. Hell.

  I had returned home yesterday feeling such elation at the familiar sights, and now I was growing antsy, restless. This always happened, and I was sick of it.

  Maybe it was time I visited the sappy-happy citizens of Happy Valley. I had stayed away a rather long time; they might have forgotten about me or thought that I'd abandoned them. I would go in the guise of invisibility, since the first and only time I ever entered that town in my own form was the day I decided to move in, build my castle, and own the forest. I'd made sure they understood that I was their resident Dark Mage and that they'd better respect and fear me. I think I even made a few of them ill with terror. That had been pleasant.

  I didn't obliterate the small village because I found it, and the citizens who lived in it, amusing. It was a nice change from Vorgoroth and Geheimnis, and I gained nothing by destroying their home, since I already had a deadly reputation. It would have just been a waste of energy.

  Having decided, I stood up and strode purposefully through Geheimnis, my boots echoing off the stone walls. I pushed through the front doors without a backwards glance.

  The most distinctive thing about Happy Valley was that it had a damned rainbow arched over it. Seriously, they always had a fucking rainbow, along with great weather, no droughts ever, and no thunder or lightning. It was like the village lived in a bubble of happy innocence. I could never figure out why, and I had obsessed over it for several years after I moved in. But I got bored, just like I always did, and ceased to care about it.

  The citizens of Happy Valley were indeed happy. To the point of nausea, actually. They were located south of Blue River, east of Green Meadow, and north of Vorgoroth. They named the river and meadow, not me. And they ended up naming my forest, Sinister Forest, as well as my castle, Black Castle. Creative, weren't they?

  Happy Valley was home to a variety of creatures, including a few seelas, who lacked magickal abilities and were not much of a threat until they created kingdoms and got some numbskull of a king who thought he was a god. Of course, there was one thing that the seelas offered the world that no other creature could, and that would be mages. All mages were born of seelas, since mages couldn’t reproduce. It was an odd quirk, and only the Mother knew why that was.

  There were other creatures that lived in Happy Valley, such as morags, whose species was notoriously morose and solemn -- they were grayskinned, blacked-eyed, and smelly with large noses and mouths. There were also vasilys, who were a species that lived in herds. They were tall and bipedal, with hooved feet and backward knees. Most lived on open plains, but there were some who preferred town living. There was a smattering of gVattarens that made permanent residents in the Valley. They were short with green skin and pointy feet. They were one of the few species that could always find water in the desert

  - they just had the nose for it.

  It was a colorful town, even without the rainbow.

  Vorgoroth was quiet as I walked through it. The smell of early morning meant the nocturnal creatures were going to sleep and the daylight creatures were waking up. I traveled down the only trail that wound through my forest. Stepping off the trail wasn't wise and only provoked the predators constantly watching for an easy meal. I was safe, of course, but everyone else who dared pass through Vorgoroth knew that the trail was the safest place to be.

  I soon stood on a hill at the edge of the forest that looked over Happy Valley down below. I sighed before thinking a word and becoming invisible.

  The village was clean and neat and smelled like apple and pumpkin pies. Community crops were plant
ed in a large field to the east of the village. Herb gardens were on every window sill. Since everyone lived a very long life, children weren't exactly a priority, so there were only a limited number of young in a place like this. A few of them chased after their domesticated wolf pups. I watched with amusement as the pups easily outran the short legs of the children. I stood in the middle of town, keeping myself from touching anyone, and enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the lively town. The shouts and calls of merchants, the haggling of customers, and the occasional good-natured argument between long-time friends filled the streets. The flayn, large beasts similar to horses, except with wings, were soaring through the air. I looked up warily when several flew over me, praying they didn't decide to relieve themselves. They were ten times worse than birds in that respect.

  There were a few ludki who came as merchants, and I had to smile at the little men and women. They mined the mountains for jewels and valuable building materials. They were short and stout, and the men had thick beards. Both sexes had bronze skin, and their eyes were either an onyx black or silver. The females had a beauty that rivaled the jewels of the deep, and despite their short stature, many males of different species looked their way. I liked ludkis. They were earthy, honest creatures, if not always the friendliest. I allowed them free passage through my forest because of an understanding we had: if they found one of the Pferun Dulleriin, they would give it to me, and I paid them in gold for it. It was a good trade, in my opinion, and in fact, I got two of my stones because of that agreement, which meant two more stones kept out of the hands of greedy idiots with delusions of grandeur. You might be wondering why ludki would sell powerful stones of magick instead of using it themselves. Well, to understand that, you have to understand ludki. They wouldn't know what to do with the stones since they had no understanding or concept of the power the stones offered. Essentially, they were incorruptible because they were content and simple creatures by nature. They had their mountains, their clans, and their mates, and they didn't need anything else.

  I looked around, wondering where I should start. A couple of dialens walked past me, and I took a deep breath of their woodsy scent. They were female and wore dresses that showed off their curves and luminous skin. Perhaps my favorite creatures in Karishian were the dialens. They were tall, willowy, and absolutely beautiful. The dialens who lived in villages and towns were outcasts from their tribes, for one reason or another. Some simply didn't want to stay with their tribes and the strict rules and traditions they were obligated to follow. I've stayed with dialens before, and while they can joke and make wonderful music, they were mostly solemn, serious creatures who weren't fond of outsiders. They had a dark, violent streak that I responded to. Before I found a place to call home, after I left my mentor, I stayed with several tribes and oddly enjoyed the community feeling I got. I felt like I'd found kindred spirits, but I never contemplated staying. They weren't my family; I had no family.

  I enjoyed watching the females as they walked by, the way the wind played with their white hair. I enjoyed beauty in all its forms; I appreciated it and sometimes tried to create it by painting, but most things that I found beautiful, others might not. For instance, I enjoyed the sounds of the hunt -- the struggle between predator and prey and the sheer naturalness of it. For one to survive, the other must die, and neither should be cheered or condemned for doing what was in their natures to do.

  The battle of life and death was probably the only battle that would never be lost or won. It was forever a tug-of-war, pushing and pulling, eternal and unsullied. Not even mages, with all our power, could escape death. We might have to die for another to live. One day I might die so another could live. But that wouldn't be for a long time. I'd rather have them die and I survive. Who wouldn't? I would fight against death as hard as I could. The Dark Mother wouldn't claim me so easily.

  Two merchants pulled carts full of vegetables past each other, and I flicked my hand toward both carts, causing a wheel from each to fall off. They ran into each other, spilling their supplies all over the dirt street. I chuckled as the merchants began to argue, but I knew it wouldn't last long. Arguments and fights had no place in this village, and when one was started it was always quelled within a few minutes, and grudges were never held. Can you understand the name of this place now?

  As other citizens ran to the merchants, I flicked my hand at a thatched roof and set it ablaze, knowing it would be put out quickly because these creatures sure knew how to coordinate. It was a small fire, and the citizens were already getting buckets of water from the wells around the village. I walked away from the chaos and knocked over a merchant's pottery stand, causing the clay pots to crash to the ground. I had to admit that the potters knew their stuff, since nothing shattered. I didn't bother the crops; I didn't want anyone to die. I just liked to keep them on their toes. I flung a bit of wind towards a large-eared morag, who liked to think he was a poet, and blew parchments right out of his hands. He gasped and leapt into the air, trying to grab the sheets. I covered my mouth to silence my laugh as I watched him leap like a kangaroo in a panic. He was gray and hairless with large black eyes, and his species always had a very distinctive scent that preceded them into a room. He also had large feet and a big nose, and he tripped over himself as the sheets blew in every direction. One ended up landing in a trough, and I had to pity him when a pig began to eat it.

  I continued with pranks like that throughout the village, causing chaos and mayhem and admiring how the villagers banded together to work through it all, the way they helped each other and cared for their neighbors. I was a big believer in being prepared, and I didn't want the villagers to become rusty if something really bad happened because I wasn't going to save their asses. And besides, it was just fun.

  I swung around the corner of a pub after I sent a booth that held buckets of nuts spilling over the dirt and covered my mouth with my hand. I laughed hysterically as I listened to the result of my mischief. Shouts and the sounds of villagers falling to the ground delighted me. Damn, I was good. This was really fun. This was what I needed, some good old-fashioned pranks. Sometimes I really enjoyed these creatures.

  Cold suddenly slithered up my spine. I looked up and saw a fireball fall from the sky and collide with the crop field, the flames consuming it eagerly. I was still for only a split second before shrugging off my invisibility like a blanket and stepping out into the center of town. The citizens were running and screaming for water, everything else forgotten as they tried to save their food source. I stood, my hands clenched, my anger mixing with my magick and making my hands burn.

  Who dared harm my village?

  I looked up in time to see another fireball hit a flayn and send the poor creature crashing to the ground, feathers burning. I snarled a word and flung my hand out, sending a force that smothered the fire even as the flayn thrashed on the dirt. Once the flames were doused, I looked around me, the chaos and screams infuriating me. Stands were tipped over, hand-made merchandise crashed to the dirt, and terror was painted on the faces of all the citizens of Happy Valley.

  Someone was going to pay for this.

  A whirling noise brought my attention up and to my left, where a swirling mass of air, like a grounded tornado, held up a mage who was currently destroying my village. He had a sort of manic glee on his face, and as I watched, horrified and pissed, he pointed a finger and sent a bolt

  of pure force directly at a group of dialens who were helping the downed flayn.

  I surged forward, bent my left arm over my face, and formed a shield that stretched ten feet into the air and touched the ground. The mage's force bounced off of it, and I managed to angle it so that it shot back toward him. He didn't react quickly enough, and the force struck him in the chest, sending him to the ground. He landed hard, the whirlwind underneath him dissipated. I was on him before he could draw breath.

  My hands burned and glowed with the magick lashing through me. I lifted water from a well nearby and flung it at him. Then
I sent a freezing wind at the mage, causing the water to freeze and ice to form on his skin and clothes, immobilizing him. I ran to his side and stared down at him, not recognizing him at all.

  "You bastard," I spat and reached down to grab his collar. "You insignificant insect. You dare come into my territory and harm my village?"

  He snarled at me, a golden prince with narrow blue eyes. He had the look and physique of a mage, but all the intelligence of hired muscle. Did he really think he could destroy my home and walk away?

  I was about to end him, I was already forming a ball in my hand that resembled a small star, and it had just as much power as one, when I heard my name called.

  I swung my head around to see a dialen, a male, staring at me in panic. He was about six feet tall, which made him several inches taller than me, and he had that athletic build most of his species were prone to. I noticed a lot of things about him: his dress, the fact that he had a bow and was currently pointing an arrow at me. But the most prominent feature was the black strip of paint across his eyes. It started at his ear, stretched over his eyes underneath his eyebrows and over the bridge of his nose, and ended at his other ear. It was a mark, a warning to all who encountered him. It warned that someone had killed a blood relation of his, and he was honor bound to avenge them. The dialens called it a hakum. He would use any means to complete his task, and would kill anyone who got in his way. His entire life was put on hold until he finished his mission, which meant he couldn't indulge in any pleasure whatsoever.

  Unfortunately, as I observed this, which took less than a second, the mage was able to break through the ice. He flung force at me, and I was knocked away, the star ball flying out of my hand. We both got to our feet at the same time, and that was when I saw that he was gripping something hard in his hand. His knuckles were white, he was clenching that object so hard.