Rogue Vanguard: Book One of the Eterialumen

by Peter Hall

  He was running low on food, game was getting harder to come by as the winter months rolled by so he set out hunting the following day. He headed east across the plains before the sun came up and kept low and quiet as he moved. Around mid-morning he came across a commotion in the distance, near the treeline. He saw two horses and as he approached he saw two Legion soldiers in their distinctive silver armor and blue capes. He jogged up and it struck him, They are going to think i am a native! I’m wearing furs and carrying a bow!

  He crouched in the long, dead grass and peered at the soldiers across the field. He saw a native woman struggling with them and they were beating her. To Hades with it…

  He crept forward and drew his bowstring. He nailed the first soldier in the neck, his shiny armor splattered with blood as he toppled over in the dirt. The other soldier threw the woman to the ground and unsheathed his sword. Durandal threw the bow down and unsheathed his at the same time, charging at the soldier across the plains. They met with a clash of steel and Durandal deflected two strikes and rammed his sword through the soldiers throat. Blood sprayed from his neck as he fell to the ground clutching the mortal wound. He walked over to the native girl and she shuffled back away from him.

  “It’s alright. You are safe now.” he said.

  He walked back over to the fallen Legion soldiers and looked at their dead faces. What have I done? There was movement in the woods behind him. He turned around and saw at least thirty native tribesmen heading towards him from the trees, all wearing their wolf furs and carrying spears. Durandal dropped his sword and raised his hands as they surrounded him.

  An elderly man walked up to Durandal and studied him. He looked at Durandal’s sword, then saw the dead soldiers lying nearby. He grabbed Durandal’s arms and gently pulled them down. He nodded and tapped him on the shoulder. The tribe turned around and headed back into the woods with the girl. She looked back and shared a glance with Durandal as they left. She was beautiful. She had tanned skin and long dark hair and Durandal was enamored by her.

  The following night, she came to the gates of the fort. Durandal ran down and met her in the moonlight as the wind howled through the rolling plains. She smiled and handed Durandal a bunch of flowers. He smiled and nodded, taking the flowers from the beautiful native girl. She ran back into the woods and he stood at the gate watching her run until she had disappeared amongst the trees.

  A week passed and he didn’t see the tribe or the girl again, until late one evening, a group approached the fort from the south. Durandal went down to meet them, leaving his weapons inside. It was the old man and he was with four other muscular tribesmen. They gestured for him to follow and so he did. He followed the tribesmen deep into the southern woods, following the path he had discovered that night when he first encountered them. They came to a small village in the woods. There was a large bonfire burning in the middle of a ring of huts made from sticks, and the girl was standing in the clearing, near the fire. The men gestured for Durandal to go to the girl, so he did. She smiled and held his hands and he noticed the other villagers gathering around. The old man walked over and started talking. Durandal had no idea what he was saying but he listened anyway. When he finished his speech he clapped his hands and the tribe cheered. The girl leaned over and kissed him and laughed. Did I just get married?

  Durandal moved into the village and lived with the natives, deep in the woods of Gorn. His new wife was named Tilda and she taught him how to speak in their traditional language. After some time, the elders decided to show Durandal the secrets of their tribe. They gathered around a fire and played drums, chanting sacred words. They passed a large bowl of a horrid smelling liquid to Durandal and he nodded and sipped it. It tasted like mud. They shouted at him and he guzzled the whole lot down. He dropped the bowl and felt dizzy. He was doing everything within his power to keep his stomach from coming up. The next moment, the elders took off their furs and started howling. Their bodies shook and they transformed into large black wolves before Durandal’s eyes. He was frozen with fear as he drooled and watched the wolves gather around him. He got to his feet and they pounced, all attacking him at once. He felt their sharp teeth piercing his body all over and he screamed. They stopped biting and sprinted off into the woods, leaving Durandal to bleed out on in the dirt, alone. He looked up and saw the full moon in the night sky and his body shook and trembled all over. Suddenly he transformed into a giant grey wolf. His eyes glowed blue and he sprinted off through the forest in the misty, full-moon light.

  A year passed and Tilda gave birth to a baby boy. They named him Leon after Durandal’s father. Durandal wondered what had become of his parents, he had been away for years now and for all they knew he could be dead. They probably did think he was dead. He wanted his mother to see her grandson, but he also wasn’t keen on returning to Siera, after his encounter with the Legion soldiers at the treeline. As he laid on his fur blanket next to Tilda his heart jumped and he felt a wave of panic across his body. The diary! He had left the diary at the fort and it contained a map that led directly to the village. He jumped to his feet and got dressed, explaining to Tilda that he had to go and gather some things from the fort. She kissed him goodbye and he ran off into the woods, heading north towards the outpost in the bright morning sun.

  He saw a group of around twenty or so horses outside the walls as he approached the outpost. This is not good… he thought. He jogged up to the gates and a group of soldiers ran up to him with their swords drawn.

  “Halt! Halt! Drop your weapons!” they shouted and Durandal complied.

  “You have me mistaken.” he said as they grabbed his weapons. “I am a soldier of the Legion. My name is Durandal.”

  “Shut up!” the soldier said and clobbered him over the head with the hilt of his sword. Durandal fell to the ground with blood gushing from his head. He tried to focus and saw a soldier emerge from the door to the small outpost.

  “I found this inside sir!”

  The soldier handed the diary to his senior officer and he flipped through the book.

  “Wait… please.” Durandal said.

  A soldier kicked him in the gut and dragged him to his feet. They bound his hands and the Commander walked over to him.

  “Looks like we have a deserter here boys.”

  They tied a cloth over Durandal’s mouth and led him down the path he had drawn in his diary. The soldiers saw the village and charged in while one of them held a sword at Durandal’s neck. The soldiers slaughtered the entire village and burned it to the ground as Durandal watched on, helpless to stop them. Tears rolled from his eyes as they dragged him back along the path leading from the village. When they got back to the outpost they tied Durandal to the gate. His body shook and his eyes glowed a bright blue. Grey fur burst from his body and his bonds snapped. His clothes ripped apart and he transformed into the wolf. He tore the soldiers limb from limb and when he was finished, the courtyard was a sea of blood and body parts. He shifted back and collapsed to the ground, shivering as the cold wind howled across the plains. He got to his feet and sprinted back to the village, naked and covered in blood. He found Tilda and Leon, dead outside their hut. He collapsed to the ground and held their lifeless bodies until the sun went down. He buried them near the remains of the village and headed back to the fort.

  He spent the next few years of his life wandering Siera, a vagabond, a lost soul. He would steal and kill to stay alive. He lost faith in the world and mankind in general. He became bitter and cruel. He spent his days drinking and gambling, and his nights thieving and killing for coin. One night after a particularly brutal assasination on his part, he was resting by a river that ran through Balen Forest. He heard noises all around and he scrambled to his feet, unsheathing his sword. He was surrounded by a group of ten huge wolves, all of different colors and breeds. They were snarling and baring their teeth. Then all at once they transformed into men, and one woman. Durandal was shocked and he lowered his sword as he looked around at the shapeshifte
rs.

  “What is your name boy?” one of the men said as he stepped forward from the shadows.

  “Durandal.”

  “You are a shifter, like us.” the man said and grinned.

  “How…”

  “We can sniff each other out.”

  “Oh… I see.” Durandal said, not sure if he was in danger.

  “Who are you?”

  “We are the Knights of Greymoore. We are all… like you.”

  “What do you want with me?” Durandal said.

  “Join us, Durandal. We are sworn to protect Siera from evil. We need good men to join us.”

  “I’m not a good man.” Durandal said, still gripping his sword tightly.

  “The choice is yours Durandal. Continue living in the woods as a vagabond, or come with us and be a man of honor.”

  “I fear my chance at honor has passed, my friend.” Durandal said, sheathing his sword.

  The man walked up to Durandal and put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s never too late, my friend.” he said.

  Durandal saw a kindness in his steel grey eyes. The man had dark grey hair and a tanned muscular frame.

  “Alright. I’m in.” Durandal said and shook the man’s hand.

  When they arrived at Castle Greymoore, the man showed Durandal to his room. He brought Durandal a fine set of steel armor, a red cape and a beautiful silver broadsword.

  “Welcome, Sir Durandal of Greymoore.” the man said and left the room.

  Durandal walked over to the window and gazed out across the mountains to the horizon. He could see the ocean from here. He wondered what Tilda and Leon would have made of the view and tears rolled from his eyes.

  Garden Soup

  ‘Recipes for the Soul’ by E.Honeydew

  Cabbage

  Tomatoes

  Carrots

  Green Beans

  Thyme

  Yellow Spice

  Sea Salt

  Lemon Juice

  Water

  Chop the Cabbage, Carrots and Green Beans, saute’ with Sea Salt, Yellow Spice and a splash of water. Add Tomatoes, Lemon Juice, Thyme, Water and simmer for one hour.

  E.

  XIV

  Heroes

  Eir wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled the tiny, charred flute from her belt as she kneeled next to Bryn on the cold stone floor of the throne room. She began playing a bright tune and after a few moments, Bryn’s whole body lit up with a golden glow. The glow faded and she slowly opened her eyes. She lifted her head and saw Eir hobbling over to Durandal as he laid motionless, bleeding out. She scrambled to her feet and ran over to him, dropping to her knees. Eir began playing her flute again and Bryn watched as the golden glow lit up his body for a few moments, then slowly faded out again, his wounds completely healed.

  “Thank you Eir.” Bryn said and looked over at the Halfling as she dropped her flute and collapsed to the ground.

  “Eir!” Bryn said and lifted her off the ground into her arms. She had blood running from her nose and her skin had turned pale white. “No! Eir!” she cried, wiping the blood from her face.

  Her little green eyes opened slightly and she turned her head to the side, looking over at Durandal as he sat up, rubbing his head. She smiled and looked up at Bryn. “Take me home please.” she said softly as her eyes closed again, her body going limp in Bryn’s arms. Durandal looked over and his eyes widened.

  “Eir!” he said and kneeled down beside Bryn, brushing the matted hair from the Halfling’s face. “What happened?”

  “She saved us.” Bryn said as the tears ran from her eyes.

  Durandal put his ear next to Eir’s nose and listened. “She’s breathing!” he said, turning to Bryn with a look of panic. “What do we do?”

  “We take her home.” Bryn said as she got to her feet.

  Durandal put his pants and boots on and gathered Bryn’s sword and shield as she carried Eir out into the annex room. The Ljosalfar opened the large doors to the castle and watched Bryn walk outside into the daylight. The demons had been vanquished along with their Master, the husks of their lifeless bodies scattered and burning across the mountainside. Bryn felt warmth on her face and realized the sun had gone back to being it’s brilliant, golden, self. Ylyndar approached them with a squad of Ljosalfar, their golden armor and feathered white wings stained with demon blood. He looked down at the Halfling in Bryn’s arms.

  “Is there anything I can do?” he said.

  “Take us to Teeko Forest.”

  Ylyndar looked over at Durandal and noticed his eyes were severely bloodshot. The imposing Ljosalfar commander stared into his eyes for a moment, as if studying him.

  “Well? Can you take us or not?” Bryn said.

  “Not him.” Ylyndar said, still staring at Durandal.

  “What? Why?” Bryn said.

  Ylyndar turned to her, his face devoid of expression. “He is unwell.” He turned back to Durandal. “Come with us back to Valenor, we may be able to help you.”

  “Valenor?” Bryn said, “But why…”

  “It’s alright Brynhildr, go. Take Eir back home. I will find you.” he said, knowing better than to argue with the Ljosalfar.

  Bryn shook her head, not understanding why he had to go. Durandal passed Bryn’s sword and shield to Ylyndar and nodded. A group of Ljosalfar escorted Durandal away and moments later, many of the Ljosalfar army began launching into the air and five huge golden galleons emerged from the clouds. The ships were hanging from giant air balloons and had large oars and propellers steering the vessels through the sky. They landed on the battlefield and the injured and dead Ljosalfar were being taken onboard, as Bryn made her way to the closest air-ship with Ylyndar.

  They sailed across the mountains and crossed back into Siera later that evening. Bryn didn’t leave Eir’s side for a moment. They landed at the northern edge of Teeko Forest the next morning and Ylyndar escorted Bryn into the trees with a squad of Ljosalfar. They carried Eir on a soft stretcher all the way back to her little village hidden in the depths of the mysterious forest. As they came to the village, Bryn saw strange lights hovering around in amongst the foliage. The lights were different colors and seemed to be floating around, hiding behind the trees. What are they? Bryn thought and suddenly a blue light floated straight towards her. The group stopped as the light got close to her face and hovered at the end of her nose. Bryn’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

  She saw in the light, a tiny lady with wings like that of a butterfly, floating in front of her face. She was wearing simple forest garb and she was twirling around and staring at Bryn. Oh my Gods it’s a Fae! The Fae then began to speak in a soft, high pitched voice that only Bryn could hear. She told Bryn to follow her and then the tiny lady floated away down the forest path to the west.

  The Ljosalfar escorted them through the strange forest for two days until the Fae finally brought the small caravan to its destination. They had entered into an area of the forest where the plants and grass were strange shades of pink, peach and light blue. Bryn saw a hill ahead with two white trees upon it. They approached the hill and the small blue colored Fae hovered between the white trees. The creature then passed between the trees and disappeared in a flash of light. Bryn glanced at Ylyndar and he seemed unfazed.

  “This is as far as we go.” Ylyndar said.

  The Ljosalfar placed Eir’s stretcher on the ground and Bryn lifted the Halfling up into her arms.

  Thank you Ylyndar.” Bryn said.

  The Ljosalfar nodded and the squad departed, leaving Bryn alone with Eir on the hill. She closed her eyes and carried Eir between the trees, passing through with a flash of bright white light. Bryn lost consciousness as she faded into the magickal glow surrounding her...

  Sweet, soft music, laughter and the scent of fresh flowers filled the air. Bryn could hear voices whispering nearby.

  “She’s awake!”

  She opened her eyes and her vision slowly came into focus. There was a tiny green lady with bu
tterfly wings floating in front of her face. The little lady floated close and Bryn’s eyes widened. What in the… The lady floated away and Bryn felt a small hand on her leg.

  “Bryn!” Eir said, beaming with joy.

  The halfling jumped up on the fluffy grass bed and embraced her.

  “Eir sweetheart!” Bryn said and held her tight.

  They looked at each other and smiled. Bryn looked around at the strange place.

  “Eir… where are we?”

  “This is the Fae Kingdom.” Eir said “Do you remember what happened at the castle?”

  The memories came flooding back to her. The demons, the Master… Durandal.

  “Yes.” Bryn said, “I remember.”

  “You saved me Bryn! You brought me here to see the Fae Queen and she made me better!” Eir said.

  “Where is Durandal?” Eir said looking around.

  Bryn looked down and seemed upset.

  “Bryn what’s wrong? Where is he?”

  “He had to go with the Ljosalfar back to Valenor on their ship.”

  “Valenor?”

  “He got sick. Something bad happened to him I think at the castle. The Elves said they… they might be able to help him get better.” Bryn said, trying to put on a brave face.

  Bryn gave Eir a hug and brushed her hair from her face. The Halfling looked up at her and the tears started to fall.

  Bryn held her as they sat on the fluffy grass bed. She noticed there were Fae floating nearby, watching them. The peach colored grass, the multicolored flowers and plants and even the strange blue and pink trees surrounding them were all gently swaying back and forth, as if they were underwater. Bryn saw a large, twisted old tree glowing bright white in a clearing just near them. She saw Halflings! They were dancing around in a circle near the tree.