Calla shook her head. “Norrex and his minions took a toll on me. There were times I never thought I would come home again. You saved me, Patch, and for that I am grateful. But there is much injustice I feel that all plants endure, and I wish to make sure no flower feels the perils that I have felt. I must do this, and I am committed to this now. I’m sorry,” she said.
Theophilus lowered his head. “I do not think you can feel sorrier than I do in this moment,” he said, wanting to fight more. But something in Calla’s eyes, the pain he saw there stopped him. “I will always support you, Calla, no matter what. I would hope that you would reconsider, not just for my sake. If I cannot see you happy at the end of the day, then it feels as if all that I fought for was for naught,” he said.
Calla was about to respond when they both heard a clearing of a throat. Patch turned to see the immaculate magnolia Mondoor standing patiently. He was flanked by two of the royal guard, looking every bit as the perfect image of an Alethian flower. At the sight of him, Calla smiled faintly and Theophilus took notice. The little weed at last found where much of Calla’s words were coming from.
Approaching the two friends, Mondoor held out his hands for effect. “Calla, my dear, we must prepare to depart at once. We have been cleared to meet with High King Landin himself. This is a great honor bestowed, and the high king must hear your story and plight,” he said.
Calla nodded. “I understand, Mondoor. I just need one more moment with Theophilus,” she said.
Mondoor bowed eloquently at this as he backed away. “As you wish, milady,” he said before nodding to Patch. “Theophilus, it is good to see you again. Your exploits among the streets of Alethia are becoming almost legendary,” he added.
Theophilus nodded to him. “Thank you, Mondoor. And I wish you a safe journey,” he said as Mondoor distanced himself from them once more.
For the moment, the two friends were alone again. An awkward silence now rested heavily on their shoulders. The picnic they had set up was nearly all but forgotten as the new revelation changed the entire course of their day. Theophilus looked about, afraid to make eye contact again for fear of seeing sadness in Calla’s eyes again.
At last, Calla spoke. “I need to go, Patch. This is not how I was hoping to conclude our reunion,” she said.
“Aye,” he said distantly, doing poorly at concealing the pain in his voice.
Calla wiped at her eyes as she mustered the words again. “Patch, I…”
It was then that Theophilus offered her a conjured smile as he spoke for them both. “Calla, if this is what you wish then I cannot stop you. Despite my feelings, I must encourage you to do what you feel is right. I hope that you and Mondoor will be a shining beacon for all plants and that you are happy together,” he said.
Calla’s eyes snapped back up at him. “It is not like that, Patch,” she said.
“That is not what his eyes say,” said Theophilus.
“I think you are reading too much into this,” she said.
“We’ll see,” said Theophilus as he turned away, fighting the pain now gripping in his chest. He had not meant to be curt, but it was difficult. The little weed had absorbed much information and seeing Calla in sadness was not helping. Yet, despite his feelings he could not discover a solution to the matter.
“Well, I guess I will be seeing you, Patch,” said Calla as she slowly pulled herself away. “You take care of yourself.”
“Yeah, you too,” said Theophilus without turning. He could hear her turn to leave and something in him broke open as he imagined it the last time he would ever see her again. “Calla!” he called out to her.
Calla stopped and turned again. Instantly he saw the tears in her eyes flowing freely. The sight of it hurt him more. He knew he could offer no more words, fearing greatly he would say something he would regret. Instead he looked at her deeply one more spell before he pulled her in and hugged her deeply again.
Sobbing, Calla whispered to him. “I’ll miss you again, Patch,” she breathed.
“Do what you feel is right in your heart, Calla. Do what you need to do for your people. But please, all I ask is that you never question your own worth to me again, for your love and depth are as bright as the Firestar,” he whispered in her ear.
“Goodbye, Patch,” she said.
“Goodbye, Calla,” he replied.
Theophilus watched her rejoin Mondoor and depart from their picnic. In his heart, he felt little other than defeat. Looking down at the picnic, it all felt painful and hallow now. Turning from it, Theophilus gazed into the distance as he pondered his next move, feeling lonelier than he had felt in a very long time.
Not far from him, concealed behind a tree, sinister eyes witnessed the events, as the owner of those eyes smiled at the misfortune of Theophilus Thistle.
Chapter Four
Caught Unprepared
Exhausted yet elated, Elor happily followed Marin from the Grand Market. His hands were full of acquisitions from a day of shopping. His belly was full on delicacies from across the region. The young imp was tired indeed, but this did little to contain his merriment as he was lead from the day’s festivities.
Smiling under her hooded robe, Marin shook her head in amusement. She did not have to look back to know that Elor was practically skipping, still grateful to have frequented the market. He would sleep good tonight around the fire, and this in turn pleased the stone troll. The duo had been busy helping Theophilus for many days, and the market was a great diversion before some much-needed rest.
Still beaming, Marin spoke without turning. “I didn’t think we were ever going to get you full today,” she said.
Elor offered her the deepest of grins. “I don’t know what came over me, mom, but everything tasted wonderful!” he said. The stone troll enjoyed his earnest enthusiasm.
“I take it the trip was to your satisfaction?” asked Marin.
“Was it ever!” beamed Elor as he popped a taffy into his mouth. “Thank you so much, mother!”
“It was my pleasure,” said Marin as she turned to look at Elor. “Now, are you ready for some rest? I think that we are quite, quite due.”
Elor nodded to her. “I think you are right,” he said.
The two of the walked upon the road for some time, nodding and greeting passersby as they came and went. Now walking alongside Marin, Elor yawned deeply. Marin placed a hand on his head, enjoying this moment they were sharing. The stone troll was proud of her charge, pleased with the young man that the imp was becoming. She thought on the last few weeks as their silence endured a while longer.
“Elor,” said Marin, lingering upon a thought, “are you still doing your magic studies?”
Elor nodded to Marin. “Yes, of course,” he replied immediately. “Every night!”
“Good, good,” said Marin as she rubbed her hands together. “I just noticed that in our adventures of late, you rely solely upon magical concoctions and enchantments and never upon spells in battle.”
“Yeah,” said Elor. The young imp lowered his head, seeming somewhat ashamed. “I feel safer that way, for me, for you, and for Theophilus.”
Marin stopped so that she could look fully into the imp’s yellow eyes. “What do you mean, Elor?”
Elor’s gaze lowered again for a second before he pushed himself to look at Marin. “Do you remember the first time I felt magic within me?” he asked.
Marin nodded. “I certainly do,” she said, hiding the shiver that tried to run through her. The result had been a painful burst of flame that Elor could not control.
Elor continued. “I have grown to fear that sensation, no matter how easy it was to produce or how powerful it made me feel,” he responded. The imp chewed on his lip before continuing. “I find it difficult to let the magic channel through me, unless I embrace my darker, imp impulses. Then I feel too confident. I feel mischief and darkness wanting to rush over me and make me powerful. Such a notion scares me, mother, and I do not wish to discover the consequence
s of embracing such a feeling.”
Marin threw her arms around the imp. “Oh, Elor! My little Elor! I am so proud of you. I wish you would have told me these things. Never do I wish for you to be afraid. I will help you through this and I will teach you properly. You have already decided the correct course. It will not be an easy road, but at the end of the journey you will be more powerful than you could ever be through darkness,” she said.
Elor was more than happy to return the embrace. “Thank you, mother. For everything,” he said.
“Of course, my darling,” said Marin as she pointed to the road. Let us be away from here now and back to our camp. The sooner you are resting the better.”
Elor stifled a yawn. “For once, I shall not argue with you on the matter,” he said.
Keeping an arm around the young imp, Marin lead them forward with much warmth in her heart. She had been surprised to feel such things again after so long, more surprised that such feelings continued to grow. Elor rested his head upon her as they walked silently, as content and moved by the moment as his adoptive mother. Without realizing it, the imp and the stone troll had become inseparable.
As the two walked, the road before them grew quiet and free of fellow travelers and frequenters of the market. Marin suddenly stopped, feeling a change in the ground around them. Instinctively she put herself in front of Elor as she searched about. Noticing the change in Marin, Elor put his things down and searched about as well.
“What is it, mother?” he asked.
Marin narrowed her eyes as she clenched her fists. “Ready yourself, Elor, for we are in the presence of evil,” she said.
As the two prepared, the land around the road trembled. Holes slowly opened and as they did goblins emerged. The creatures stood just taller than Elor, adorned in ragged armor and yielding skin of blue, green, brown, or mixed shades of these colors. The goblins snarled at the Firestar light as their eyes adjusted and fixed on Marin and Elor, growling as they brandished swords, staffs, and daggers.
Counting 20 goblins, Marin kept wary eyes on them as she spoke. “What is the meaning of this? We have done nothing to you or your kind,” she said firmly.
One of the blue skinned goblins cackled as he drew two jagged swords from his belt. The gleam in his red tinted eyes glowed fiercer than the rings in his ear and on his pointed nose. “No, but you have quarreled with our brethren and brothers of the cause, and for that you must be punished,” he said, fully confident in himself and the numbers he held.
Marin nodded as her features darkened. “You have one chance now to leave in peace and let us on our way. I assure you that should you try to harm my child, the consequences shall be severe,” she said.
At this the goblins laughed devilishly before the blue skinned goblin replied. “Your child, you say? That’s a new one,” he laughed before he pointed his swords, both dripping with some foul, black liquid. “Take them!”
The slew of goblins rushed at Marin and Elor from all sides. Elor tossed enchanted orbs at them, either halting them with entrapment spells or blinding them in noxious smoke. Several of the goblins charged at Marin, who clenched her fists and concentrated. As they connected with her, the goblins and their weapons bounced off the stone troll before she retaliated with attacks of her own.
Catching the goblins by surprise, Marin then opened her hands and held them before her. Rocks and pebbles burst from the road and surrounding wilderness as the stone troll assaulted the goblins with them. The goblins cursed and screamed as they dove for cover. Several of them dove back in their holes to avoid the relentless attacks.
As Marin continued her magical onslaught, she heard the lighting of a fuse. Soon a round grey orb bound in steel was tossed from one of the holes. As it approached, Marin turned and placed herself around Elor. The explosion ripped into the road and caused the stones in the air to fall. Marin grunted but was able to deflect most of the blast. Releasing Elor, she turned again and resumed her defense as Elor cast more orbs at their enemies.
As the goblins resolve started to wane, Marin called out to them. “You would be wise to flee while you still can,” she said.
“They will do no such thing,” said a thundering voice, coming from the very road they stood on. “They may not be enough for you, but I am.”
Marin felt an instant chill as the ground below her hummed with vitality. Before her eyes, a figure rose from the road. The ground opened as an orc garbed in a thick crimson robe and hood emerged. Holding to a gnarled scepter of black wood a green glowing gem, the gray-skinned orc offered nothing with his indifferent gaze. He eyed Marin as if he had already sized up her abilities and found them wanting.
The orc then spoke, and his voice offered no comfort for the imp and stone troll. “You have fought well and are to be commended. But the goblins under my command are but a glimpse of the true power you face. I, Dobah, servant of Norrex and our master Moreg, ask you now to see reason and surrender,” he said.
Elor procured another enchanted orb as he looked up at Marin. “He is with Norrex. That is enough for me, mother,” he said.
Marin nodded to Elor before looking at Dobah again. “Your minions have been bested, Dobah. Do not tempt the fates. Leave now and take the goblins with you.”
Dobah nodded grimly at this. “So be it then. A quarrel we shall have,” he said before he pointed his scepter at Elor and Marin.
As Dobah aimed his scepter, the road surrounding him erupted savagely, coursing at Elor and Marin with unbridled wrath. Marin was caught off guard by the speed of such an attack, barely raising her arms up in protection. And while the stone troll did succeed, the fury of Dobah’s attack cast young Elor back fiercely as the young imp fell to the ground. Marin called out to him before she realized that to protect him, she had to devote her full attention upon Dobah.
Drawing upon the surrounding stones once more, Marin brought them all upon Dobah. The shaman raised the land around him, encasing himself in a protective shield. The rocks ate deeply into this shield but were effectively halted. At the attack’s end, Dobah allowed the shield to explode, sending rock and soil in all directions and forcing Marin to guard herself once more.
Utilizing his scepter again, Dobah conjured vines that burst from the road and entangled Marin’s feet. As the vines snared her, the orc raised his scepter to the air, drawing magical lighting to his weapon. Training it on Marin, Dobah unleashed the fury upon the stone troll, sending forth an unrelenting stream of electric power. The blast hit Marin fully as she held up her hands to deflect some of its damage.
Not relenting, Dobah spoke. “This is but a taste, stone troll. Yield,” he ordered.
“I will not,” grunted Marin through clenched teeth. She then willed herself forward. Breaking free of the vines, Marin inched toward Dobah, absorbing and enduring the fury of his spell. The stone troll focused her thoughts on Elor and stopping the evil that threatened him, and that was enough to motivate step after step. Soon she was in grabbing distance of Dobah as she reached for his weapon.
Using the scepter again, Dobah trained it upon the ground, causing another explosion as a wave of land carried him away from Marin. Coming to stand casually again, he nodded to Marin. “You are strong, stone troll. Yet you are already bested. Now yield.”
Marin shook her head. “It will take more than your words to stop me,” she said.
Dobah nodded to this. “Very well,” he said as he pointed behind her. “Perhaps what you see now will change your mind.”
Marin turned quickly as her spirits sank. Instantly she saw the goblins holding Elor, weapons trained upon him as the little imp looked helplessly at her. Marin could see clearly in their eyes that they would not hesitate to send Elor to the Dream if pushed. With pained acceptance, Marin lowered her hands and ceased her aggressions.
“A wise choice,” said Dobah as he blasted Marin’s back with another stream of lightning. This time Marin fell to her knees. Elor cried out to her as the stone troll tried to offer him a brave smile
. Dobah then used his magic to encase Marin in dirt and clay. She offered no resistance as Dobah did so.
“You have won this fight,” said Marin darkly as Dobah came around to face her. “But see that no harm comes to my Elor or that victory will not last.”
Dobah offered a polite smile, but only for a moment. “You are a worthy opponent, stone troll. And for this I will offer my word that no harm will come to your imp on this journey, so long as you remain docile. But should you test me or my minions, you have my word that he will be the first to suffer,” he said.
“Very well,” said Marin.
“That is the only promise I can offer you,” said Dobah as he motioned to the goblins. They quickly retreated to their holes with Elor in tow. “Once we reach our destination and you are in the hands of Norrex, all assurances are null and void,” he offered.
“Then I will do what I must,” said Marin.
“And I would expect no less,” said Dobah.
With the goblins off the road, Dobah activated his scepter again. The road rose once more, swallowing Marin and pulling her underground. Once she was out of sight, it did the same for Dobah. Soon the magics of the orc shaman worked over the battle scars upon the Great Road, dissolving any remnants of the fight. Within seconds all was quiet and serene once more, without anyone seeing or realizing there in fact had been a skirmish.
Soon all that remained was an untattered road and the wake of a deadly and ominous silence.
Chapter Five
An Old Enemy
A carriage of floral and splendor traveled briskly upon a small, secret road. Six steeds made of flower petals and vine pulled the elegant carriage swiftly toward its destination of Lunamorn. 12 mounted flowers flanked the emissaries as six more flowers surveyed the road above on their flying mounts. It was at the elven stronghold that the Alethian representatives would convene with the regent of Lunamorn in hopes that their message would be heard and spread to High King Landin.
The Adventures of Theophilus Thistle Page 18
