Now that they were out of the dark of the cave, Kylan took in his companion in the daylight. He wore a beige tunic with the sleeves cut off, and was more muscular than the elves Kylan knew. Defined shoulders and lean arms, the muscles of his back were bulging beneath the thin fabric of his tunic. It was clear this elf had seen some adventure, perhaps spent time rowing a boat or chopping wood. And he fought well back in the cave, he knew his way around that bow. That magic bow.
That conversation could wait. Hechthir may not want to open up to someone he just met. Kylan’s eyes followed the tattoos running up the elf’s neck from beneath his tunic. Thorny vines curved around his cheeks. The elf turned and raised an arm, shading his eyes from the sun, his eyes on the treeline.
His red eyes. It was so dark in the cave, Kylan hadn’t noticed the shade of his companion’s eyes. He glanced at the antlers, the color of ashen bone, above pointed ears pierced by several gold rings. Hechthir had angled features with high cheekbones. Around his neck was an opal, its flecks of color were like iridescent stars floating in an ivory sea. The gemstone pendant was round and hung from a braided leather cord.
The elf raised an arm and brushed a lock of grey hair back. The sunlight caught several strands, revealing streaks of chestnut and sepia. The tribal tattoos spiraled down each arm, vines entwined with leaves and curling at the wrist in a cluster of thorns.
They passed a cluster of large stones and crossed over a hill, making their way down to a stream winding in the distance. Kylan listened as the elf spoke.
“As I said, that coven was doing things that I hold in low regard. While I eat for survival, they chose their victims, using murder and blackmail, pulling political strings.” Hechthir shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t agree with their ideals, and keeping an innocent man prisoner, I couldn’t allow that. I simply choose to eat a different meat than others. That’s where my line is drawn.”
Kylan walked up beside Hechthir, pushing a low hanging branch out of the way as they rounded a thicket of bushes.
“I’m grateful for your help. Where are we?”
“We’re in the north. Beyond this forest the landscape becomes snow and mountains. There’s a town called Coldember on the other side against those mountains. That’s the closest town from here. I figured we could head there to lay low in case there’s retaliation for what just happened. I was heading to Ke’nora when you ended up in that cave. I can accompany you to safety and then I have my own errands. I’m honestly not sure how far the coven’s reach extends. I heard the priest talking to you, he was right. Archaina has many followers.”
“Yes, I am familiar with that area. Good thinking. And I appreciate the company.”
They walked in silence, crossing through a shallow stream beneath a curved weeping willow tree. Kylan cleared his throat, moving around a thick oak with curving branches.
“Tell me about yourself, Hechthir. I’ve met forest elves, but I have never seen an elf like you. What brought you to be involved with this coven?”
“Well, I was previously living in the land across the sea, to the north of Everscia. I found myself traveling with a nobleman. Zaragoza Venoza.” Hechthir laughed. “It’s a strange name, I know. I discovered through our journey together that he had been banished from his own homeland. There are some behaviors that others consider improper or inappropriate. It seemed he dabbled in magic that went against his family’s ideals. You see, he had a scientific mind, always curious, always learning. He got excited by unraveling the mysteries of things most did not understand. He was a great alchemist and brewed potions from the rarest ingredients. One of the things that his family didn’t understand was his practice of necromancy.”
Hechthir shrugged.
“And I guess we shared common proclivities, which was the thing that connected us, cannibalism. I first noticed it when he pulled a piece of jerky from his pouch. The scent of human flesh is different from that of an animal. I only eat uncooked flesh, while he preferred it cooked. Any other person would think it was just beef or venison. But it was the meat of a man.”
Kylan watched the elf recount his adventures with the banished nobleman. He spoke with excitement and reflection, using his hands and arms to gesture in the air as his story continued.
“Venoza was my friend. He actually taught me the spells to conjure the bow I use from magic, as well as several other spells that help on occasion. It allows me to travel light.”
The mage listened to the story and walked alongside, wondering if the necromancer Morluna ever had a genuine interaction with someone or if she was only focused on her own agendas. He considered that obsession she had and recognized the same one-sided focus in himself. Aside from his work with the school, he had also spent months working on spells without coming up for air. Even now, he chases the embershards to remove the necromancer’s soul so that his wife may have a body to live, when he knows it would be easier to just move on.
Hechthir looked up, the sound of rustling leaves breaking them both from their reveries. The bushes ahead of them split apart beneath a dark blur. Three large blackfang spiders leapt from the bushes. The nearest one spit a venomous web line at the travelers, pushing itself forward with long crooked legs. The thick skin of the spider’s legs were scarred, remnants of previous fights or from climbing the jagged rocks of the mountains. Kylan raised a glowing hand and the venom-drenched web line dissolved in the air before it reached them. He crouched down, preparing to defend against another strike.
The spiders were as big as cave bears but moved much faster. Their bulbous abdomens were like black armor with thin grey hairs woven along its surface. Thick, black fangs hung from their gaping jaws, below several clusters of blood-red eyes. Spikes of ebony bone curved over their backs in rows. The next spider knocked Hechthir to the ground and stood over the elf, raising its front legs to strike. Its underside was soft grey flesh. Hechthir rolled, reached for his dagger as the creature brought its barbed legs down, clawing the grass and dirt. Kylan threw up his hands, tossing several ice spears into the spider, toppling it backwards. Hechthir moved quickly.
Kylan heard a crackle in the air behind him. A shimmering silver-blue spectral wolf appeared and attacked one of the spiders, its fangs sinking into one of the thick legs.
Hechthir was up within seconds, crouched on one knee, his spectral bow in hand. The bow’s amethyst light cast an eerie glow across the elf’s face. He narrowed his eyes, focused, and sent a trio of magic arrows through the air. Each one sunk deep into the spider’s head and body as the strength of the wolf’s jaws tore the spider’s leg from its body. The giant creature staggered and fell against the body of another spider. Its death scream was otherworldly. Hechthir turned, bow raised. The final spider was frozen solid and looked like it was carved from ice. Kylan held his hands above his head. Hechthir noticed two large stones were hovering in the air above the spider. Kylan dropped his hands and the stones came crashing down into the frozen spider, smashing it to pieces. Hechthir covered his face with an arm as debris exploded outwards.
“Your mastery over the elements is impressive.”
Kylan raised his hood back up as it had fallen during the fight. He brushed off the shoulders of his cloak.
“Thanks. And I did not miss your skill with that bow.” Kylan grinned. “The wolf was a surprise.”
“That’s Rune. The wolf is my companion. It’s only a spell, and doesn’t last long, but it's just as real as any living wolf and, as you can see, can help me to get away from trouble if I need to. He’s been very useful over the years.” Hechthir wiped his forehead, brushing his tousled hair and tying it back up. “Spiders.” He looked over to the dead arachnids piled together. “I really hate those things.”
Kylan thought back to the coven’s goddess Archaina, being more spider than woman and understood that Hechthir was telling the truth about being a traveler and not a true follower of the cannibal’s goddess. If he hated spiders, he wouldn’t be so inclined to worship one. The mage
laughed to himself and they continued walking through the forest, emerging into a clearing beneath the shadow of the nearby mountains. The companions looked up to the peaks scraping the sky, crowned by a halo of sunlight and jagged cliffs, and their eyes fell upon something moving in the distance.
A dragon.
A bronze-scaled dragon was perched on one of the stone arches atop the ruins of a fallen temple. Hechthir’s eyes widened in wonder.
“That’s Snowshrine Temple. It’s been abandoned for nearly a century, I believe. The priests of Gaal once worshipped there. The priests were an order of orcs that worshiped their deity, Gaal, god of penance and the afterlife. While the orcs have always been skilled warriors and I’m sure those priests were no stranger to a fight, the story is that the temple was overrun by a large tribe of Stonekin, fierce bloodthirsty savages, and they were slaughtered.” Kylan pointed towards the ruins, drawing a crooked line in the air, outlining the path. “There’s only one path in or out, there on the mountainside. Nobody really knows for sure, and it has been said that explorers refuse to go inside or even near it for fear the Stonekin are still there, generations later. Superstition, if you ask me.”
The dragon’s wings unfurled as they watched, stretching outwards. With a thrust, it pushed itself from its stone perch and soared through the air. It dipped and flew up into the clouds and back down, almost dancing across the sky. It was graceful for such a large and dangerous creature. They watched it disappear over the mountains.
“That’s the closest I’ve ever been to a dragon.”
Hechthir rubbed his eyes and looked at the sky again, then to Kylan. The mage’s eyes were just as wide.
“I’ve studied scales, talons, and teeth. I’ve happened upon remains and sifted through bones, but I’ve never witnessed a living dragon. They are truly majestic creatures.” Kylan smiled and nodded, running a hand through his beard. “Everscia has its mysteries, does it not? I’m always surprised by its dangers and its beauty.”
“Like a woman holding a dagger behind her back.”
Kylan laughed at Hechthir’s comment. “Yes, I suppose so.”
They continued walking, soaking in the experience until they reached the other side of the clearing. The sun was sinking into the horizon and the sky was darkening. They stopped along the edge of the tree line to make camp near a fallen log, hollowed by the weather. Hechthir pulled a bundle of kindling tied to his knapsack. Kylan gathered several larger branches and they piled them together. Kylan raised his arms and cast several small bolts of fire. The wood burst into flames and Hechthir leaned back against the log. Kylan positioned himself just across from the fire on the ground. He looked into the fire and for a moment, he was looking at the necromancer’s burning cottage, and then the shriveled remains of his wife in the crypt. He shook his head and pushed the images from his mind. He had to remember why he was out here. His thoughts turned to his wife and what they’ve been through to this point. He reminded himself that his journey is not over yet. Not until he’s separated his wife from the necromancer.
Hechthir broke the silence.
“I told you how I came to be here, Kylan. What about you? How does a mage with your power get trapped by a simple priest?”
Kylan told him how he let his guard down, thinking the priest’s motives were genuine. He told him of the necromancer and his wife, and how he’s searching for a cure to the necromancer’s curse. He did not speak of the embershards, these stones of great magic. Kylan, like the priest before him, wanted to keep that secret for himself, though he did not yet fully understand the stones.
Kylan glanced at Hechthir’s knapsack and noticed something beneath the cover. He nodded to the knapsack at Hechthir’s side.
“What is that, Hec, a musical instrument?”
Hechthir looked over and grinned. He reached for the knapsack and unfastened the cover.
“It is, in fact. It’s a lute.”
Kylan watched Hechthir remove the lute. He turned it over in his hands, running his fingers along the strings. He turned a couple of tuning pegs and thumped the strings in unison, the reverberation sounding a mournful note. He looked at the lute, admiration in his eyes. It was clear to Kylan that there was a special connection with the instrument.
“I love music, and have created many songs over the years, pulling inspiration from my travels and experiences, though I haven’t played in quite some time.” He looked to the trees as he spoke. The elf’s red eyes seemed to be searching some distant memory. “I was a bard, seems like it was another life though. I traveled from tavern to tavern, playing for tips or a warm meal.” Hechthir’s cheeks raised in a crooked smile, his elven features lightening. “I made friends and heard many stories, and loved many ladies.”
Kylan grinned at the mischievous twinkle in his new friend’s eyes. Hechthir’s voice was almost melodic as he told of his former life. “I got to see a lot of places, had some good times, but the pull of my first love kept drawing me away.”
Hechthir positioned the lute onto his lap and shifted against the log. “Music. She’s a temptress, a jealous mistress, and she’s a fiery lover in the right hands. Seems we each chase the allure of the siren's song, calling us to follow. Mine is music, yours is magic.”
Kylan lowered his hood and brushed his long grey hair to the side. He watched the elf stretch his fingers open and closed, warming the muscles for use.
“I’ll admit, Hec, I have not heard much music lately. I’ve been so caught up in arcane matters and now this quest. Would you play something for me?”
“I appreciate your friendship, Kylan, and that you don’t judge my choices, my lifestyle.” Hechthir ran a hand over the lute as he spoke. Its fretboard was inlaid with abalone in the shape of a thorned vine running the length of the neck. “And after hearing your story, this tragedy that has befallen you,” He lowered his arm over the body of the instrument and closed his eyes. “I will dedicate this song to your wife, Auralyn. She sounds like a lovely lady, worth fighting for.”
Hechthir plucked the strings and strummed chords, the notes weaving a haunting melody. The forest was alive with a symphony of sounds, the subtle rattle of the nearby fadewings, the long drawn out hiss of the wind through the leaves against the ripple of a nearby stream. It all coalesced with the echoes of Hechthir’s lute to create a melancholy instrumental. Creatures of the forest seemed to be drawn to the sound as the mage watched birds and squirrels line the branches in the distance, and thought he saw a slender grey fox skulking around the shadows of the trees.
Kylan listened as the elf played into the night. He played from his heart, each note full of passion and emotion. Kylan found himself connecting to the bard's music, lost in song, images of his life with Auralyn flickering in the back of his mind. It was almost spiritual. The darkened horizon beyond the trees pulsed to the rhythm, washed in hues of purple and pink. When the song was over, the sky faded back to deep indigo with streaks of turquoise lights. Hechthir exhaled and placed the lute beside him on the grass. He leaned back onto the log and the audience of animals disappeared back into the darkness of the forest.
Kylan sat in awe at the simple beauty of music and its impact, the emotion it evoked. He cast his eyes across the campfire to the elf and held his stare. Two people on different paths, sharing an understanding of the fragility of all that is sacred.
“Thank you for that gift, Hechthir. The music you create is a magic all its own.”
◆◆◆
Morning fell over the forest and when Kylan awoke, Hechthir was already awake and dousing their campfire with water from the nearby stream. He handed Kylan a small waterskin.
“Fresh water. I had an extra that I refilled for you. I figured you may need it depending on where your quest takes you next.”
Kylan accepted the skin and fastened it to the belt beneath his cloak. Hechthir threw the two knapsacks over his shoulder and turned to the mage.
“I know you have to get back to your wife, Kylan, and the things tha
t you’re involved in, I just can’t get caught up with that. I’m sorry. So this is where our paths diverge, my friend.”
Hechthir pulled something wrapped in cloth and held it out to Kylan.
“But here, take this. It’s cooked meat.”
Kylan raised an eyebrow. Hechthir laughed.
“I caught a rabbit passing by while you slept. I cooked it over the fire with spices I got from a Servaali merchant while visiting Erros.”
“Ah, the cat folk of Erros. I have met a couple of them in recent years, students at Silvermoth. Turns out, they can be quite good mages.” Kylan took the meat and slid the cloth into his pocket. “Thank you for the meat and water, my friend. Where will you go?”
Hechthir shrugged.
“I have heard stories of other lands out there, so I may just wander and do some more exploring. Maybe listen to new music, try new foods. I’ve had wine from the red shores of Arylon, might head west across the ocean one day and visit. But there’s a ship, the Sea’s Wretch, leaving from Ke’nora in a few days and going north. That’s the land where I met Venoza. That was a beautiful and treacherous place, much like Everscia. I was leaving to make my way out there when they captured you in that cave. I’ll make my way to the docks and see where this path takes me.”
“You are a unique and charming elf, Hechthir, and I’m glad we met. Your company and your music have been a welcome blessing along this darkened path I tread. If you ever find yourself back this way, go to the town of Velorra and make your way up to Silvermoth, the school for mages in the mountains above. You can always find me there.” Kylan smiled. “Until then, safe travels, and may Alivar watch over you.”
They embraced in a hug and Hechthir adjusted the straps of his knapsack.
“Thank you, Kylan. The same to you, my friend. I hope everything works out with your wife.”
The Blade Unbroken: Magebreaker Page 5
