Age of Souls

by Garrett Stevens

  “Duu Furhdrae hajth brakdu. Furhdrae muurs ripkaal duu brakduu.” Another reptilian voice softly spoke from close behind her.

  Spinning in panic, she quickly brought her hands up in her attempt to go on the offensive but was met by two large clawed hands grabbing her wrists and hoisting her into the air. The new hulk was a lot taller than the last and easily held her from the ground. It wore the same void-like cloak which hid all its features, like the others, aside from the brief scaly clawed hands holding her, nothing else could be seen in the dark of the night.

  “Meidrae, yosh muurs raptru duu caldri.” It spoke again, barely moving as it held her.

  From behind the larger robed hulk, a smaller version of it appeared. Skirting in behind them to the still body, laying in the grass, it reached towards it with one of its clawed hands. Grabbing where its head would be, its large scaly hand slowly closed around it. Sounds of bone shattering, crushing under the weight of its grip filled the grove, finally fulfilling what the crypt wanted, a corpse.

  Mya wriggled against the larger beast grasp, much to her futility, there was something about this one that did not seem as threatening as the first. She watched as the small cloaked hulk ripped the robes from the dead. It was as if it pulled a cover from a basket filled with ash, nothing but smoke filled the grasses and flowed from within. A plume of the ash fell from the cloth as the executioner flipped it over its own body, adding the fabrics to his own.

  Her full attention turned back to the one holding her. “What do you want with me?”

  Silence.

  The air grew heavier again around them as she starred into the void of the robed figure. It remained quiet, standing motionless, holding her in the quiet of the clearing, as if studying her. Mya kept her struggle to a minimum while trying to study it herself. Something was not right.

  “Meidrae, duu furhdrae ol Tyrolin ikneare.” A brief silence as if it were catching its breath. “Mother, release the spirits.”

  “What did you say?” Mya’s eyes widened as it spoke in a language she could understand.

  “Meidrae, raptruks duu Furhdrae.” Its voice was harsh this time in the unknown tongue.

  Before she could get another word out, her captor dropped her to the ground and took off into the darkness with the smaller one, like something had them spooked. The night remained heavy around her. It was hard to follow the sprinting shadows on their way to the verge; both disappeared into the night quickly. The weight of the night lifted from her chest as regained her lungs and solidified her footing in the tall grass.

  Spinning in circles, scanning the tree line for anything. Her eyesight became hazy and her head spun in circles faster than she was turning, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed to the cold damp earth.

  Death truly had come to this tomb.

  Chapter 10

  The night air was crisp against the white of the snowy province, littered with the odd protruding trees, mixed with large stone pillars reaching up, trying to hold up the sky. With both tree and pillar filling in much of the area, the view was interrupted easily that made things difficult to move in a straight line or know which direction you were heading.

  Porter Granol kept his pace up, dodging back and forth, skirting around each pillar or tree he came across. His little hooved feet gently packing divots into the top of the clean white blanket that was paved before him. The sound of snow crunching under each light step echoed slightly off the walls of the stone giants around him like a drip landing on a frozen pond that quickly faded into the trees.

  “You got here fast.” A deep growling voice made him skid to a stop, spraying the light fluffy snow into the air and looked for its origin.

  A very tall burly man leaning against one of the stone giants held a short pipe in one hand a had a blank stare towards the little Satyr. A hardy man covered in tribal tattoos with bands holding feathers and small skulls wrapping around his biceps that continued the painted story of his tattoos. Fur lined leather-like vest covered in similar tribal markings and matching short leggings looked barely enough to keep the cold out. The bottom half of his legs exposed to the cold air were also covered with tattoos that told a story down to his bare feet.

  “Shaman Thron-Din, the elder spoke with urgency.” Granol performed a subtle bow as he spoke.

  “What word comes from the Undergrowth?” Thron-Din pushed himself from his leaning post and stepped toward the short Narx.

  “The Elders are worried about their children; they have ordered them to be gathered. The youngest has been in contact with a relic and somehow the chains are weakening. The Furhdrae are hunting for the Mother and Tyrolin is on her way here.” Granol took a deep breath.

  Silence came into the night as Thron-Din thought about the Narx’ words.

  “The young princess will be welcome when she arrives. Has the cup been found?”

  Granol nodded.

  “Then the three will be together quickly. Have the Spiri been consulted?” Thron-Din scratched his shoulder to flick away some of the falling snow.

  Granol shook his head. “Does that mean you know where Chronolin is?” Looking up at the giant of a man with his big owl eyes.

  “We have known where he has been since the last transfer of souls. With this new age of souls, we made sure to keep close watch on all of the new hosts.”

  Nodding his acceptance, Granol swallowed back his follow up question.

  “Give me the Mask then, I will take it to our coffers for safe keeping and await the daughter. Please tell the Elder that things are progressing quickly, Necrolin will not be able to keep his chains secure and the Neightur have been moving around in Tulcarna.” Thron-Din reached out with his large hand.

  Granol reached into his pouch and pulled out the small glass mask, gently placing it in the barbarian’s large palm. His hand was so much larger than the mask, it was but a pebble being swallowed by the ocean.

  “Eirolin’s soul has been in torment, she has been touched by the youngest Elder again.” Granol stepped back and rested on his staff.

  Taking another long breath, Thron-Din closed his eyes in thought.

  “Erisolin must be behind this, she has been a thorn in the family for more than a millennia. Thank you for everything Porter, let the Elder know that we will help where we can. I will prep the relics for Tyrolin’s arrival.” Thron-Din reached into a pouch behind him and pulled out a small scroll. “Take this to the Spirit Shelves, to Dire. The Mother will be needing it if their path diverges from the current.”

  Granol reached up and grabbed the scroll from his large hand. It was a bit awkward for him in size, larger than his pouch could hide which made it stick out the top flap. Before any other exchange could happen, Granol pushed off through the snow and disappeared quickly behind the stone and wood. Thron-Din watched in the same direction for a short while, eyes glaring in thought.

  Turning slowly, he walked off in a saunter to allow himself to think. After a few turns into his walk he quickly reached to his side and grabbed at something in the dark shadows of the forest. A muffled sound of struggle echoed off the stones and into the night.

  “You do not belong.” Pulling his prize towards his face and out into the night, a cloaked figure so dark, even the shadows of the night couldn’t compare. The hulking shadow reached up with a scaly clawed hand in protest, trying to free itself.

  “Let them know that she will finally be free of the despair. Erisolin will never have her way. Her host will overcome the sorrow and the Five will never consume the realms.”

  With a clenching of his hand, sounds of bone shattering under his strength filled the night. The beast went limp and its tattered robes fell still. Dropping the Furhdrae corpse to the ground, Thron-Din looked down and scoffed before returning his gaze back to the darkness of the forest. A feint set of footsteps in the snow could barely be heard quickly fading away.

  “We don’t have much time.”

  • • •

  “Mya? Wake u
p.” Gemini stood over top her, looking down.

  Squinting as she slowly woke, Mya realized that she was still out in the field of grass and the sun had already breached the top of the surrounding trees. Pushing herself up and propping up with an elbow, she scanned behind Gemini for anything to indicate the interactions that occurred during the night.

  “What are you doing out here?” Gemini stepped back to give Mya some space and crossed her arms across her chest.

  “Must have been sleep walking.” Mya gave her a slight embarrassed face.

  “Do that a lot these days?” Gemini raised her eyebrows and glared back.

  Mya could tell by her tone that she didn’t believe her. Standing slowly and rubbing her eyes to clear the sleep. The camp was already packed up and Faer was eating some sort of bread like substance for breakfast on one of the boulders that circled the camp.

  “We need to get going so we can reach the falls before nightfall.” Gemini turned and headed back to the campfire.

  Mya lowered her head in thought, trying to piece together what transpired during the night. The voice of the larger Furhdrae repeated in her head. From the corner of her eye, she could see Gemini looking back over her shoulder with a curious face. Shaking it off, Mya stood and caught up to Gemini and smacked her on the backside.

  “Guess this is the last time we get to see each other for a while.” Mya gave her a sideways hug as they walked.

  “Are you going to be alright by yourself? The Central Province is very unpredictable.” Gemini hugged her back.

  “I will be alright, it’s only a day or two from here to Sky Pedestal and then North Gate is a couple days past. There are villages and towns along the way, or a Travelers Tree to rest in.” Mya gave her a hip bump and trotted off ahead to the camp.

  “I hear a bed roll is a better rest than the ground.” Faer mocked her when she came close.

  “Very funny.” Mya punched him in the arm as she walked by to her pack.

  Rubbing his arm, he curled his inward in concern before he said. “It happened again, didn’t it? Was it like before?”

  “The same, but I could see faces this time. Don’t tell Gemini about it.” Mya looked over her shoulder at him with a fearful glare.

  He nodded in silence.

  “Faer we should get going if we want to make the lookout before dark.” Gemini came into the camp and scooped up her bag, slinging it over her shoulders.

  Faer nodded again, biting into the last chunk of his breakfast.

  “Take care you two. And, keep out of trouble.” Mya stood with her backpack in hand.

  Gemini grabbed Mya in an embrace, resting her chin on her shoulder. Mya squeezed her back and pushed away, keeping her hands-on Gemini’s shoulders to give her a smile filled nod. With a flip of her bag, Mya looped the straps of her pack over her shoulders and stepped back to get everything in place for her journey.

  “Farewell Faer, look after her for me.” Mya gave him another little punch to the shoulder.

  “I will.” Faer looked up at her and rubbed his wound again.

  As she left the campsite, Mya turned mid stride, waving a final farewell before fading beyond the foliage on the edge of the grove. Gemini stood watching her until the branches stopped moving, until there was no sign of her anymore.

  “Shall we get out of here too?” Gemini bounced her pack into place and gave Faer a hurry up nod with her head, pointing in the opposite direction with her head.

  Faer grumblingly grabbed his backpack and slid his way into it, moaning under his breath about being on another adventure. The two companions exited the campsite quietly, making their way around the lake to the north edge of the clearing. Faer pushed through a small break in the foliage fringe and disappeared into the forest beyond.

  Gemini stopped before entering the forest and looked back to spot in the field where she found Mya. With a curious look, she silently questioned the direction that Mya disappeared through the bushed and sighed. A small shake of her head with another sigh, she turned and succumbed to being swallowed by the forest as well.

  • • •

  “I’m exhausted, I thought you said we were going to Sky Pedestal first?” Chyla collapsed into a chair that rest against a nearby wall.

  Dominic crossed the small bedroom and dropped his bag on the end of the bed. There was not much in the room aside from a small bed and a small wooden table next to where Chyla was sitting. A single portrait of some nobleman hung on the far wall next to the only window. A very simple room.

  “I changed my mind. There might be further things we need to consider before going to Sky Pedestal. You should be fine here, I will go get settled in the other room.” Dominic left before Chyla could sit back up with another complaint.

  The inside of the house was a lot larger than the bedroom, ornate figurines and delicate looking boxes littered counter tops and shelving. An organized mess with stacks of books and small crates filled empty spaces, scattered across the flooring; strategically placed to allow a walking path to get around. A simple home that was obviously occupied by an academic with an obsession.

  “R’nuuk?” Dominic called out over the organized mess.

  His call was responded by rummaging noises coming from the far side of the house. Closing in on the origin, he found a slender middle-aged man dressed in a simple attire, riffling through a pile of books.

  “Thanks for taking us in R’nuuk.” Dominic stood for a second without a response and went to sit in a nearby chair.

  Dominic watched him check each binding of every book he grabbed before placing it on a neighboring pile. He was determined to find something since they got there, like them arriving stirred something up in the back of his mind that was urgent.

  “Need help looking?” Dominic called from his comfortable chair.

  R’nuuk just waved his hand back at him.

  “Ha!” R’nuuk yelped in excitement.

  Pulling out a small leather book that had a string tightened around it from all four sides. Twirling around in his excitement to the small wooden table behind him, R’nuuk dropped it with a surprisingly heavy thunk, sending a plume of dust into the air.

  “Are you sure this is it?” Dominic shimmied to the front of his chair.

  “Of course, am I ever not sure about anything?” R’nuuk put a single finger on the top of the book. “This was taken from their library by someone who met a very untimely death shortly after.”

  “How did you come by it then?” Dominic asked.

  “I have friends in careful positions.” R’nuuk raised an eyebrow, trying to look sinister. His young features did not do it justice. “It should help with sorting out what Latisha is doing on the main land.”

  Sitting down at the small table, R’nuuk pulled on the small string holding the book closed and pulled on the cover, lifting the squished down pages into a lot thicker of a book. The string must have been a spell to shrink it down for storage.

  Looking around at the room while R’nuuk read through the much larger tomb, Dominic shook his head at all the knickknacks and paper bound items strewn around the kitchen. Not enough space to prep a meal or store anything for future meals. A small basket of fruit sat on the edge of a small free counter space that looked to be more of a book end than something used for food. Minutes past before R’nuuk slammed his finger on a page.

  “This.” R’nuuk’s face looked incredibly serious.

  Looking down at the page to see a small drawing. A cluster of six stars forming around three hoops, almost touching but never connecting. The rings had an ornate layout with additional swoops and lines finally encasing the stars into what looked like six more rings with thorns protruding at the apex of each ring. In the middle, being perfectly spaced in a triangle formation, the circles were no more than a sliver apart and housed the shape of two dragon heads about to devour each other.

  “What does it mean?”

  “It’s the Seal of the Elders. Freyolin and Incinolin; the original elders, h
ad these symbols put on everything that was passed on to High Realm. When Necrolin was given the honor of managing the realm of the dead, he was elevated to the rank of Elder. They gave him access to these seals as part of his charge, to entrust him on their upkeep.” R’nuuk kept his eyes on Dominic but spoke like he was reading from the book. R’nuuk flung his arms around as he talked, getting his whole body into the motions.

  “Why would that be a problem?”

  “In his youth as an Elder, he shifted them around all Vulthrodin and hid their locations from the other Elders. Some were placed on objects rather than locations and some were placed within some of the mortals as well; to be passed down through the generations.” His arms flailing about as he talked, Dominic had a hard time trying not to laugh at how he moved during conversation.

  “Again, why would that be a problem and what does it have to do with Latisha?” Dominic stayed in his chair for the fear of moving might knock over R’nuuk’s precious stacks of books.

  “Because! The seals protect High Realm, they limit the Dragon’s power so that this land does not become another Low Realm.” R’nuuk huffed. “With the objects given to specific people in Vulthrodin and beyond, the Elder’s children are allowed to be welcomed into a mortal form with their essence in a sort of possession and utilize its power. Like yourself.” R’nuuk took a long breathe, “where is the gift Chronolin gave you?”

  “It was lost a long time ago.” Dominic shook his head.

  “For the love of the Twenty, that is a powerful relic, you will need to recover it. The seals have been breaking, the ones Necrolin has placed across the lands. Seems the Neightur have found a way to circumvent their bind which is causing them to break. This will allow the souls of the children to heighten in strength and ultimately allow the Dragon children free to be in their true forms.” His face now joining into the contortions as he talked, each twitch and jolt added more to his words.