The Banished Lands- The Complete Series

by Benjamin Mester

  “Yes it is,” said Pallin. “Arathama is a creature from the old world. He and his kind once lived abroad amongst the lakes and pools of the forests, clothing them with vibrant beauty. But now that darkness has come to our world, Arathama uses his power to stalk his prey. He is the last of his kind. He sees every motion of every creature in Enlath. Even vibrations along the shore can send out waves of color into the waters. We must be very cautious now.”

  Durian walked very slowly, transfixed on the beautiful, clear lake. The blueish golden gleam was subtle and ever-changing, as though the lake itself were alive. Durian stepped closer, but felt a hand quickly come down upon his shoulder.

  “Go no further,” Pallin commanded.

  Durian nodded and fell into line with the rest of the group. The landscape around the lake grew steep, forcing them nearer to shore. Pallin crept atop the bouldered edge.

  There was a stream ahead, wide but gently flowing out of the lake. Pallin came to its edge and scanned their surroundings for a dry crossing. At length, Pallin stepped gently into the crystal stream. As his foot touched the water, streaks of azure and gold surrounded his foot and streaked out in all directions, even creeping against the current toward the lake. But the color weakened and faded before reaching the lake.

  “Be very careful,” cautioned Pallin and continued on.

  Durian followed behind, wrapped up in fascination at the color around their feet. The color emanating from each person was slightly different, and every step he took mesmerized him and filled him with wonder. How could a creature that used such beauty seek to cause them harm, Durian wondered?

  Durian's toe suddenly struck the back of Pallin's foot. Horrified, Durian stumbled forward, nearly knocking Pallin down. The rest froze. The violent crashing of his feet filled the stream with color.

  Time seemed to halt as the color streaked against the current toward the lake. Bright wisps of color slithered forward, tendrils desperately reaching outward. Just before fading, one of the wisps of color made contact, and as it did, a roar erupted from Enlath's furthest side.

  “Run!”

  The Edgewhic Isles

  “Pallin! Take them out of here!” Sheabor shouted, and then broke company, sprinting back in the direction they had come.

  “Sheabor!” Pallin called out. But he could not stop him.

  “Run!” Sheabor called back again.

  Straiah came behind Baron and Blair and pushed them forward. Then he ran to meet Sheabor. Pallin grabbed Durian and pulled him to the other side of the stream. Once clear of it, the four scrambled up a nearby hillside as far as they could and then waited.

  Sheabor unsheathed his hammer instead of his sword. He moved to the edge of a boulder overhanging the lake and swung powerfully down with the hammer. The sharp tip of Shade Stone made contact with the stone, shattering it and sending large chunks into the lake below. Another roar erupted, closer and louder than before.

  Sheabor rushed to the nearest small tree. Striking the base, it splintered and fell to the waters. The tree floated for a moment before being suddenly wrenched below the surface. Durian saw a form disappear beneath the waters where the tree had been. The lake was now full of vibrant swirls of color – reds, greens, and golden yellows.

  “We must continue on,” commanded Pallin.

  The four descended the hillside and sprinted along the lake, Sheabor continuing to menace the lake shore. Straiah followed him at a distance, bow in hand with arrow drawn, waiting for the creature to reveal itself. But Arathama was nowhere to be seen.

  “Sheabor!” Straiah called out as he loosed an arrow toward a huge form soaring through the air. Sheabor turned and rolled away right as two powerful fists pounded the ground he had just occupied. The creature let out another roar.

  Arathama's form was terrible, resembling what could only be described as a frog-like gorilla, with large amphibious legs, and a powerful, muscular upper torso, covered with armored scales. His arms were long and his hands looked large enough to clutch Durian's entire body. Straiah immediately shot another arrow, which struck between his shoulder blades.

  The arrow didn't seem to pierce, but the creature turned with a hateful roar toward Straiah. Arathama lunged at Straiah striking the tree Straiah stood behind, uprooting it, but not knocking it down completely. Straiah darted for another tree.

  Sheabor sprang forward with a yell. Arathama turned and swung across Sheabor's chest, keeping him at bay. Straiah drew his sword and the two men faced off with the creature. But then, Arathama turned to see the other group sprinting along the shoreline behind him. With a mighty leap, he disappeared into the lake, only to reappear on the other side, flying through the air and landing only paces from Pallin and the others. The group dispersed in fright and terror.

  Durian fled, but a large, powerful hand caught hold of him. Durian couldn't breathe. He couldn't even scream. Arathama jerked him through the air as he moved toward another victim.

  Durian still couldn't breathe. His lungs were on fire. The cry of Sheabor rang out through the air, and he felt the creature swing round to face it. Arathama roared and clenched Durian even more tightly. Darkness took hold of Durian and sounds grew dull.

  Sheabor and Straiah charged forward, yelling out. Arathama stayed his ground. As they neared, Arathama swung his arm toward them, missing Sheabor but knocking Straiah backward to the ground. Sheabor dashed forward and swung his hammer down on the hardened scales of Arathama's head. The creature's eyes grew wide and he dropped Durian.

  Arathama staggered backward toward the lake. Sheabor raised his hammer yet again, and Arathama scrambled anxiously away to the waters. Soon he had disappeared into the glimmering lake and was gone again. The group rushed to Durian, who lay still on the ground.

  “Durian!” Baron yelled, shaking him.

  Durian winced in pain and opened his eyes. He blinked his eyes a few times and saw five forms standing over him. They helped him to his feet. Durian struggled to take in breaths. He leaned over and nearly fell, but Sheabor caught him.

  “That thing almost made a meal out of you,” Blair said.

  Just then, the distant roar of Arathama erupted from the far side of Lake Enlath. Baron slapped Durian on the back, but Durian only winced and shuddered at the thought.

  “We must leave here, now!” Straiah commanded. “If any Dungeon Core are nearby, they will have heard the battle.”

  “Pallin, lead the way.”

  The group set off, away from Lake Enlath. Durian pitied the Dungeon Core who might come that way in search of them. Back in the open woodlands, they set a quick pace the rest of the day and the next morning.

  But then, Sheabor and Straiah grew cautious, which surprised Durian. Surely the Dungeon Core weren't still tracking them. They had come many leagues north. But Straiah bent down on multiple occasions, examining tracks.

  “A group of Dungeon Core passed this way, heading north,” said Straiah. “These tracks are fresh.”

  “They are searching for us,” Pallin declared. “We will reach the forest edge by nightfall.”

  “I thought Thob Forest stretched northward the whole length of the kingdom?” Sheabor questioned. “Why would we leave it so soon?”

  “It does,” Pallin replied. “But soon the forest will veer west, leading away from Eulsiphion. And a second mountain range lies to the north, which would take days to go around. Our best chance is to leave the forest through cover of night. With luck, the Dungeon Core won't expect it and will lose our trail.”

  Sheabor nodded slowly, glancing to Straiah for his thoughts. But he had nothing to offer. The group jogged on, afternoon passing into evening. They had covered many leagues through the open forest when darkness finally took hold. At times, they could see a glow in the distance.

  “Why are they using torches?” asked Baron. “It makes them easy to avoid.”

  “It's merely a decoy,” said Straiah. “Only one in ten carries a torch. They're hoping to herd us the direction they want us t
o go.”

  “Pallin, we should rest,” advised Sheabor. “If we're discovered on the open plain, we'll be forced to run a great distance.”

  “We are very near the edge of Thob Forest now,” Pallin replied. “We can rest here.”

  The three Suriyans were exhausted from the day's walk, and gathered some bedding around the small fire Straiah was building. Though they tried to stay awake for the evening meal, they fell fast asleep.

  Durian awoke to a tap on his shoulder and arose. It was still dark and Durian felt as though he had only barely slept.

  “Pallin, how far to Eulsiphion?” Sheabor questioned.

  “A week's journey, at least,” he said.

  “Pallin, that isn't going to work. We aren't going to escape undetected. Straiah and I have seen forms moving through the plains. They're trying to conceal themselves, but there are many Dungeon Core there.”

  Pallin grew thoughtful for a moment.

  “There is a place not far from here called the Edgewhic Isles. There are tall spires of stone and many ravines and cliffs. The Isles end at a sheer wall called Ridgewall, a narrow pathway leading up. If you could destroy the pathway after us, we may yet escape them.”

  The group departed eastward bound. Half an hour's walk brought them to the edge of the forest, and Durian was surprised it had been so close. Beyond were the plains, brightly bathed in moonlight.

  “Sheabor, we ought to wait until the moon sets,” Straiah advised.

  “It will be near morning by then,” he replied.

  Sheabor and Straiah scanned the darkness. All was silent and still but for the gently flowing breeze swaying the tips of the low-lying grasses.

  “Pallin, lead them onward,” Sheabor commanded. “Do not look for us. We will be near.”

  And with that, Sheabor and Straiah burst forward into the open plains. Pallin set out after them at a quick pace, but not too quick, in case the time came when they truly had to flee for their lives. Durian felt incredibly exposed out in the open. Though it was night, the moon was bright enough to cast their shadows down in front of them.

  They jogged until reaching a small hill, upon which Pallin laid down, peering outward on the wide plains. The three Suriyans did likewise, heaving deep breaths of air as they watched the night. Durian's mind might have been playing tricks on him, but he saw things moving in the darkness, though never once did he make out their forms.

  “They haven't seen us yet,” Pallin declared.

  “Where are Sheabor and Straiah?”

  “Keeping the soldiers off our trail.”

  And with that, Pallin arose and descended the hill, his pace a bit slower than before. Each moment they escaped detection made it more difficult for the Dungeon Core to find them. Durian suddenly heard the sound of boots on the earth behind him. He turned round in fright and almost yelled out, before seeing the form of Sheabor.

  “Pallin, you must move more swiftly,” Sheabor declared. “There are too many. And some travel by horseback. We need to be well away from them by morning.”

  Pallin picked up the pace and Sheabor ran off to the north. They jogged for hours, taking breaks only briefly. Durian's muscles burned with exhaustion. If the enemy discovered them, it would be hopeless to try and outrun them. But the moon finally set, leaving a sprawling sky full of stars.

  The landscape began to change and slope upward, the grasses of the plains giving way to rocky ground. Pallin was forced to slow the pace.

  “How far to the Edgewhic Isles?” Durian asked.

  “We will arrive by morning.”

  Durian thought he heard the sound of battle in the distance behind them. But it was brief. Steep, rocky hills lay in the distance ahead, and looming spires of rock reaching up a stone's throw into the heavens.

  “Those are the Isles,” said Pallin. “It will be difficult for them to find us here.”

  Durian saw quickly what he meant. The rocky hills and spires were a maze of narrow corridors and side routes that quickly curved out of sight. And because the ground was rocky and hard, they left no tracks to follow. Durian didn't even know how Sheabor and Straiah would find them.

  But they continued on, the glow of morning just beginning to fill the horizon. Their course led them through into a narrow ravine barely navigable between two tall rocky hills.

  Durian again heard the distant sound of battle wafting down the corridor and a not so distant crash of stone. The group turned round, but saw nothing more than a plume of dust rising in the air. What was happening?

  “Quickly now,” said Pallin and hurried down the corridor.

  The sound of battle intensified. It was just behind them now. All of a sudden, a soldier flew into the corridor from around the corner, crashing to the ground. Sheabor ran through just behind him, followed by Straiah and more soldiers.

  Durian saw nothing more, for they curved out of view. But the battle continued in the narrow passage, Sheabor yelling for them to hurry their pace. Their course opened up into a wider basin, but narrowing again after only a few dozen paces.

  Pallin raced to the far side. Sheabor and Straiah were just behind them. But as Sheabor reached the broader section, he swung his hammer into the stone on either side of the opening, piling fresh rock into the gap. It wouldn't stop them completely, but it would slow them down.

  He kept at it, filling it more and more until the soldiers finally caught up with him. Then Sheabor raced after Pallin and the others, catching them quickly. The Candlewood of the hammer glowed in the darkness of their passageway, and the head of the hammer held a deep seated gleam.

  “Pallin, how far to the Ridgewall?”

  “It is moments away.”

  The passage finally emptied into a broad and flat basin a few hundred paces wide. High walls surrounded them on all sides. It looked impassible. Had Pallin made a mistake? But he ran for the far side of Ridgewall.

  Before they reached it the Dungeon Core began pouring into the basin. Pallin's eyes darted along the wall ahead, searching for the pathway up. If it was there, Durian didn't see it. But Pallin found a handhold and pulled himself up the Ridgewall. Baron and Blair went next, followed by Durian.

  Sheabor and Straiah lingered at the bottom of the wall. Straiah loosed an arrow and quickly set another. The first arrow missed its target but the second found its mark. Then he unsheathed his sword.

  Pallin and the three Suriyans were making slow headway. This pathway wasn't much better than the one they used on the Estees Mountains. It was more of a climb than a walk. The soldiers reached Straiah and Sheabor.

  Sheabor ducked the first man's blow, throwing him over his shoulder and slamming him into the wall. He lashed out at a second and was blocked, but leaped up upon the Ridgewall. Straiah ducked and parried a flurry of blows, striking the nearest soldier to him dead and then leaping upward to catch the outstretched arm of Sheabor, who pulled him onto the Ridgewall just as swords slashed beneath his feet.

  Sheabor took up the rear, smashing as much as he could of the pathway behind him. The soldiers climbed and inched their way forward. After the initial ascent, the pathway leveled off and the three Suriyans and Pallin ran along it, lungs burning. The path reached the end of the wall and then doubled back. Sheabor and Straiah were now just below them. Sheabor still swung his hammer but the lead soldier lunged for him.

  “Look out!” yelled Durian.

  Sheabor narrowly ducked a blow and struck the lead soldier with his hammer, knocking him from the ledge to the ground below.

  “Sheabor, your hammer!” Straiah called out, hands extended.

  Sheabor threw him the hammer, which he carried up ahead. Then Sheabor drew his sword. Straiah came to where the road doubled back and continued a few paces until he was directly above the Dungeon Core. Sheabor was engaged with the lead warrior, bringing the rest to a standstill.

  Straiah smashed the ground and splintered it, sending large chunks of rock down, knocking one of the soldiers from the ledge and forcing the others back. S
heabor and the lead soldier fought until Sheabor ducked one final blow. He kicked the soldier into the others and then ran up the narrow path.

  By the time he reached Straiah, he had demolished a large section of the pathway, so much so that Sheabor had to leap across the distance. Then, taking back his hammer, he smashed the ground furiously. The soldiers were rounding the bend, approaching fast. Durian and the others halted, watching anxiously.

  The lead soldier sprinted for the gap looking as if to try and clear the distance. But as he neared, he slowed and stood facing Sheabor with steely eyes. Sheabor rose, breathing deep and returning the soldier's gaze. Then, raising his hammer straight out in front of him, he spoke with a loud command.

  “Go back to the dungeon. The schemes of Malfur and Corcoran have been outwitted. Soon all the Eastern Realm will know of your presence here.”

  The leader of the Dungeon Core stood his ground for many moments. But then, without a word, he and his band turned round and moved quickly down the passageway to the ground below. Sheabor ran up to where Pallin and the others waited and leaned against the wall for a few moments to rest.

  “Will they be able to go around?” Sheabor asked.

  “Doubtful,” responded Pallin. “The way around is many miles, and through difficult terrain.”

  Sheabor nodded in relief and put his hands on his knees to rest. After a few more moments, he lifted his head and smiled.

  “What other dangers does your perilous land have to offer?” Sheabor asked.

  “None that I can name,” responded Pallin. “At least between here and Eulsiphion. Still, we ought to travel as far as we can before resting, just to be safe. And the journey through the plains will be long.”

  The three Suriyans gazed in awe and wonder at the Hammer of Haladrin still held in Sheabor's hand. Pallin too, was enamored by its beautiful, yet destructive form.

  “Candlewood and Shade Stone,” Pallin remarked. “The hammer has the properties of both light and darkness. I have never seen anything formed by the hands of man quite so magnificent.”