The king was dazed and mentally recovering as he lifted himself to his knees. The dwarf groaned out his grogginess as he recuperated from the debilitating blows the old man had delivered. The wolf began to calm and settle his nerves as he slowly accepted the stranger’s disappearance.
Caedmon looked at the king and insisted, “Kvaran, we must go.”
The king shook the confusion out of his mind and remembered the fight they were undoubtedly losing, and his voice rose. “Defend yourself, Caedmon!” He stood up, and his eyes madly darted around as he began shifting his stance to relocate his fierce opponent. “Where did he go?”
“I do not know,” Caedmon answered.
“He fled?” Kvaran sighed in relief and then produced a hearty laugh. “Yes! We won, Caedmon! Good thing the town’s guard informed me of your arrival when they did. They said you had arrived a few hours ago, and I rushed here through the caves so as not to miss your passing.”
Caedmon was glad to see the nightmare had gone, though he could not so easily believe the notion of victory.
“I do not believe we won, old friend,” Caedmon said as he cautiously scanned for the inhuman old man.
King Kvaran laughed heartily. “Nonsense. We are still here, and he has gone. Concluding-we-achieved-victory conditions! Good Caedmon, we must celebrate our victory over such a difficult opponent. Let us go have a pint for old times’ sake.”
The weary guardian wished he could but admitted, “Unfortunately, I must decline the merriment and local spirits, though I was very much looking forward to sharing that with you again, my friend. Perhaps matters will allow it the next time I travel to your kingdom. Instead, I must discuss with you urgent matters where others’ ears may not pry.”
Kvaran eyed the wolf curiously as the pain in his stomach began to diminish. “I care not for those words, Caedmon. Trouble always seems to follow them, as it does you.”
Yet the king could see the urgency in Caedmon’s eyes. He picked up his war hammer and added in a grumble, “Follow me.”
◆◆◆
The wolf guardian and the young leader continued steadily as they neared the Tri-Peaks. They still followed behind the others and the wagon at a distance while they talked in private. The ancient protector’s storytelling had taken quite a while as he’d had to stop several times to answer the young guardian’s questions.
Caedmon’s tale had ended, and he searched Faolan’s face for a reaction. “I tell you this because I need you to do something for me. If this old stranger comes back, I would have you take the others and flee. Protect them until a safe haven is found.”
Faolan could see the sadness plaguing the wolf’s face. “Leaving you alone to stand against such wrath?”
The old protector’s distant gaze shifted to the rich soil below. “If it must be.” His eyes lifted to the road before them. “The Ikalreev’s magic crossed the span of time in order to find those capable of destroying the evil creatures that one day would step on these lands. It must not be lost now.”
Faolan respected the wise wolf more than the ancient guardian would ever know, yet he understood quite well what he would need to do should those be Caedmon’s true beliefs. The magic flowing through the old protector came from the same origin and purpose as the magic in the unconscious mages.
The young Shadow Guardian calmly remarked, “I will stand alone, so no other must.”
Caedmon glanced at him. “What did you say?”
“You are part of the same Ikalreev magic and the spell cast long ago. Losing you would nullify their purpose, Caedmon. It will take all five Ikalreev mages to overcome and defeat the Initiate, and you are one of the five,” Faolan reasoned as his resolve solidified. “I will stand alone, so you and the others may survive.”
The great wolf shook his head in disagreement with the young guardian’s claim. “No, Fao—”
“Yes, Caedmon! Your wisdom is not failing you now. It’s just . . . your heart denies that I, perhaps, must die in order for this plan to succeed.” Faolan rejected the wolf’s concern with determination.
Caedmon noticed slight changes occurring to Faolan’s clothing as faint white and blue streaks appeared against the dark-green base color of his uniform, followed by a small yellow patch growing over the Shadow Guardian’s chest.
The wolf was curious and questioned, “Why do you feel joy?”
“Joy?” the young guardian wondered.
“Yes, your clothes will not lie to others’ eyes,” Caedmon responded.
Faolan briefly looked down at his shirt and then lifted his gaze to the road before them. “I now have a reason to lift my swords and a purpose for the protection I may provide our companions in the future.”
The soldiers’ screams he had once heard in Darnum, when the elven swordsmen were defending against the Nathra during their charge, echoed in his mind. He wished his abilities had been great enough to save their lives and felt guilt for his lack of power. He yearned to be stronger and to one day have enough power to prevent death and to cease war.
“A purpose to the bloodshed.” The somber guardian reflected on the losses.
Caedmon knew Faolan was resolute in his decision, and he would not be able to change the young guardian’s mind. The saddened beast said nothing more as their footsteps’ rhythmic beats rose over their silence. A harmony of insects began to hum as the sun disappeared over the horizon, and no moon rose as the approaching night was only tempered by starlight.
Chapter 21
“The Trials”
“The place of origin shall hold trials to awaken the magic within the three mortals and the one creation. The last mage is unknown. The fifth’s trial is his own.”
The Ikalreev Prophecies 16:1–3
Caedmon and Faolan walked through the night, and a new day’s sun rose over the canopy, providing light to the hardwood forest around them. They had followed the others in continued solitude as the plains of Gathian faded into the Zajena Forest. Neither of them wished to rejoin the others after their sobering talk, and little more was said during the lengthy walk. Caedmon’s unique eyes kept watch throughout the night though no danger had proven near. The calm beat of the wolf guardian’s footsteps eased Faolan’s mind and kept any further negative thoughts at bay. The white puffy clouds drifting high above were sparse and nonthreatening as the new day began.
A single question had plagued Faolan for some time, and he finally mustered the courage to ask it. “Caedmon?”
His tired neighbor looked at him. “Yes, Faolan?”
“Zauvek attacked you, but the distance between you two would not have allowed such a strike to occur. He also scoffed at the idea of magic or a wizard’s mental ability.” Faolan was distraught. “If his attack was produced by neither physical nor mental means, then how could he have created such attacks and with such force?”
Caedmon understood all too well the young leader’s confusion. “Ah, yes, his attack. It is confounding, is it not?”
Faolan fell silent as he mulled over his limited understanding of magic and otherworldly abilities.
Caedmon continued. “Force produced by neither the mind nor the body—what remains?” He eyed his companion’s frustrated expression. “Have you heard about Cathan Lonaas Castle?”
Faolan’s eyes rose, and he shook his head.
“Then I will explain the best I am able.”
Faolan listened.
The blue wolf breathed in deeply, “There are many kingdoms and peoples that have come and gone for various reasons. Cathan Lonaas Castle was the capital of one such long-forgotten kingdom. There was once a time when humans created a proud and expansive empire, although it cannot be seen today, and I doubt any remember its true magnitude. Only ruins lie where its heavenly white towers previously stood.” He sighed. “Oh, how I miss the peacefulness of the old human kingdom. The westlands at one time were home to me.”
Caedmon cleared his throat in an attempt to catch his rambling. “Sorry, old memories are hard to l
et go. As I was saying, Cathan Lonaas Castle was once filled with happiness and lively people. After a long reign, the standing king of the twenty-second generation lost his populace’s favor. Neither son nor daughter could accept the throne in his stead as there had been unfortunate occurrences, killing every offspring the king had produced. The bloodline was broken, and the populace grew distrustful of the reigning lord.”
He paused on hearing a slight sound in the distance and cautiously scanned his surroundings, but he shrugged the sound off as a possible vocalization from a forest animal and continued.
“Well, to put it briefly, a revolt rose, and the king was dethroned. What was left was ruin and anarchy. The populace failed to find another individual suitable for the king’s position diplomatically. Each contender was killed or banished while vying for power. There was war among humans concerning which would be the next bloodline to rule the kingdom. The castle was abandoned when enough vile blood had been shed and evil done on those hallowed grounds to curse them for eternity. To this day, souls of the long dead still remain among the weathered stones of the old castle. Outside the castle gates the air is warm, but inside Cathan Lonaas, the chilling air is no ordinary cold, and its temperature feels as if it is from the tallest peak in Verdunmull. The sensation is quite eerie inde—”
He hesitated as he heard another sound. This time, it was farther up the path, though nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, and so he continued. “Inside the castle the restless spirits move the tangible. Rocks are thrown, doors open and close on their own, footsteps are heard, and scratches appear on the living.”
He glanced at Faolan’s confused expression and tried explaining in a different manner. “What I am trying to say is if neither the mind nor the body is the cause, then perhaps his spirit is the source. If a mortal’s spirit or soul can produce enough force to throw objects and scratch the living long after death, then perhaps Zauvek’s soul can lash out and do the same while living. Yet his soul would have to hold immense power in order to strike out with such ferocity while still alive. Meaning his spirit must not be confined or limited by his physical form as worldly limitations seem to hold no power over him.”
Faolan finally understood the ancient wolf’s long-winded explanation and gasped. “Impossible. How can that be? His soul can harm me?”
Caedmon shook his head. “I have lived a very long time, and I have never seen such power, such abilities, as his. I conclude his soul is the source of his might for no other rationale resolves the question, in my perception.”
Not far up the path, there was a sound much louder than those that rose before, and a scream followed, chilling the air. The young leader’s eyes met the wolf’s in an anxious glance, and the pair raced toward the scream. Faolan unhooked his swords, and Caedmon rose to his full height in preparation. They rounded a sharp curve in the road, and the trees parted as they raced into a small clearing. The clearing’s northwest-to-southwest side was lined with sheer cliffs, which rose high above the small grassy glade. A cave entrance could be seen in the midst of the polished cliffs. In front of the cave’s entrance, they spotted their companions where the wagon had stopped. Treasach was flat on his back, moaning in discomfort. Aili and Leith were hunched over Treasach’s spasming form, and the others were stunned with disbelief.
Faolan was unable to locate an attacker though he could see the prince was in great pain. Nothing else about the scene looked abnormal, yet they approached their companions with cautious steps.
The two guardians neared the others.
“What happened?” Caedmon asked.
Leith held up a hand for them to stop. “He is fine.”
They obeyed the healer’s visual command. Faolan questioned, “Was he attacked?”
“Hardly,” Leith remarked sarcastically. “This guy is pure genius, I tell you. Nothing but wits.”
The perplexed leader looked over at Gavina as he heard a short series of sounds emanating from her. At a closer glance, he noticed she was giggling with a hand cupped over her mouth. He was now thoroughly confused by their reactions because he found it rather concerning that the prince was writhing in pain, yet none of them exhibited the same concern.
Faolan looked back at Leith. “What is going on?”
“We found this magic barrier. It is invisible to the naked eye but unmistakable to those with intelligence as no grass is growing in a very thin, curved line at a distance around the cave.” Leith sighed and smirked. “Well, the prince, with wits of a scholar, takes his sword and shield in hand after so wisely deciding he wants to go search the cave before you two arrive.”
Faolan raised an eyebrow as he heard the story unfolding. “Did you know the barrier was there?”
“Yeah, one of the horses encountered it first. It did not do much to the horse, just gave it a scare. But I did not say anything because I figured if a horse could notice the magic barrier, then everyone would.”
The healer stood up and stretched his back. “So Mr. Genius here tells us to wait here while he goes to scout the cave. Before anyone could open their mouth, Treasach took flight.” Leith shrugged. “By that time, it was too late.”
A small smile found its way across Faolan’s face, but he did feel badly for the prince. “So he just ran into the barrier?”
Leith nodded. “Yeah, face first.”
Laughter rose from Kellen as his hard exterior crumbled, and the comedy of the situation finally overwhelmed him.
Leith waved their concerns away. “He should be fine. The barrier seems to be the nonfatal kind, only a ward to prohibit any unwanted visitors. If it did have the potential to kill, I suspect there would be some animal bones lying around here somewhere.”
Faolan’s smile persisted. “We should pick him up and move him into the shade until he recovers.”
Kellen and Leith helped him relocate Treasach under some trees at the glade’s edge. The others moved the wagon and horses nearby, and after a few lighthearted comments, the group collected themselves.
Auvelia spoke up. “Caedmon?”
“Yes?” the wolf responded.
“Is this the entrance to the Four Trials?”
Caedmon inspected the cliff from afar. “I believe so. Do you see the insignia engraved in the stone above the entrance?”
Everyone gazed toward the cliffs and searched for the symbol.
“Yes,” Kellen answered, and the others soon found it as well.
“That is the insignia of the five Archmages from the Ikalreev governing council,” Caedmon announced.
“Then it must be!” Gavina exclaimed.
“We cannot enter with that barrier barring us. We must break the defensive magic,” Kellen surmised.
Caedmon shook his head. “It cannot be broken, and it should not be. Only those the Ikalreev wished to enter will enter. I assume it is exclusion magic of the highest grade. The caves would not have remained pristine with anything less.”
“Then only the five may pass through the barrier unharmed?” Gavina asked.
“I believe so.” Caedmon supported her revelation.
Kellen wondered, “May you still enter as only three mages?”
Caedmon was unsure, and hesitated. “We shall see.”
“How do you intend to test your theory?” Auvelia chimed in.
“Trial and error, Auvelia. That is the only way.”
The wolf guardian began walking away from them, intending to discover if he would be allowed safe passage through the Ikalreev exclusion magic. A few moments were all it took for him to cross the small glade. The others watched from afar and hoped all would go well as they remembered what had happened to the prince just a moment ago. The ancient protector paused when he found himself standing ten yards outside the cave entrance.
Caedmon glanced around for the thin line devoid of grass and called back to the others. “Where is the barrier’s perimeter?”
“It should be near there!” Gavina shouted.
Caedmon glanced back at t
he pitch-black tunnel, and an odd feeling surged through him as he peered down that dark passage. He knew this was it, the culmination of his entire existence and the purpose for which he was created. The Ikalreev magic was beginning to awaken, and the spell would soon come to fruition. Finally, the time had come for the five to rise and defend Verdunmull.
The massive guardian stepped forward and hoped the Ikalreev protective magic worked as they surmised.
The highest Archmage had told the old protector during their final meeting, “When the time comes, Caedmon, do not hesitate and step forward in faith. A few precious seconds can determine the fates. The seals will not wait.”
Caedmon heeded his master’s words, stepping forward in faith as he awaited some sign he had crossed the barrier’s threshold. A moment passed, and he stood within the cave’s mouth. He looked back over his shoulder in curiosity, believing they would have received fanfare on their arrival to the trials, though no such welcoming or sign of recognition came from his attendance.
Caedmon shifted his mind to the task at hand and shouted at the others, “Faolan! Kellen! Bring Ehreion and Ireli to me.”
Faolan cautiously lifted Ireli’s delicate body with one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back. He easily transported the slumbering beauty with her head propped against his chest.
Ehreion, on the other hand, was quite a bit heavier and rather cumbersome to move. It took Kellen, Gavina, and Auvelia to move the burly dwarf; all three grabbed hold of Ehreion in some sense of the word. The manner in which they lifted the poor dwarf was quite uncomfortable, though luckily, the dwarf was unconscious. After about twenty yards, one of the dwarf’s legs slipped from Auvelia’s slight hands, and a vocal note of worry escaped her lips, but Kellen discarded her concern as there was not much farther to go.
Faolan neared the cave, though he hesitated roughly fifty feet from the entrance as he was uncertain where the magical barrier was located. He lowered Ireli’s slim figure to the ground in a smooth motion, careful not to drop her.
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