Vlad'War's Anvil

by Rex Hazelton

  After watching the show the silver falcons put on, J'Aryl turned his gaze from the impressive avian acrobats to the landscape below.

  The largest and northern most of a string of islands, Stromane was part of a mostly submerged mountain range whose highest peaks rose above of the Largryk Sea. Non-volcanic in origin, outcroppings of crystal, like the cliffs the griffin had claimed as their own, were found on most of the islands, usually near their centers. Stromane was unique in this regard. Here the crystal was found on the island's extreme northern edge. Looking like a bride dressed in a white gown whose train was as green as a tropical jungle, the mountain of crystal's steep upward sweep ended in the cliffs the griffin built their nests on.

  The jungle below J'Aryl and Nazar Blood was not uniform green in color. The verdant hues found here ran the gamut of variation from near black, to vibrant chartreuse, and everything in between. Splendidly mottled with the full spectrum of leafy possibilities, the jungle canopy was a sight to behold as it ran off to the south where a distant shore was covered with pure white sand.

  Up ahead, the sea gulls and pelicans, gliding this way and that way on the air currents rising out of the Largryk Sea, marked the location of the crystalline cliffs as the griffin and his rider matched the island's rise in elevation.

  Soon, Nazar Blood swept over the white cliff's edge. Dropping lower to skirt along the towering crystalline wall's steep face, he was taking J'Aryl to the Cave of Meeting whose dark mouth mirrored the hole in his own heart caused by the recent griffin cubs' deaths. As he flew along, the Community of Blood watched him pass by on his way to meet the elders that waited in the cave. Some looked sad. Others lifted their lips in snarls that gave proof of their foul mood. Many looked down into the churning sea, hoping to catch a glimpse of a shadow that might betray the murderer's location. Lionesses nuzzled their cubs to the rear of their fur-padded nests and away from the steep drop that ended where the emerald green water crashed up against the crystalline wall.

  The disturbance in the atmosphere of peace that was the hallmark of the Community of Blood's nesting ground was not the only thing that was different about the cliffs. The rare sight of lemurs and apes standing on top of the crystalline heights was also visible. These were working with nimble fingers that were weaving strands of slender, sinewy vines together that others of their kind were harvesting in the jungle below.

  Before J'Aryl could figure out what the hairy troop was up to, Nazar Blood banked downward drawing his attention away from the industrious throng. After a brief but abrupt descent, the griffin spred his massive wings out as wide as they could reach before dropping onto the ledge that fronted the Cave of Meeting's entrance. Dismounting from the griffin, J'Aryl strode into the cave where the elders were engrossed in conversation.

  Seeing J'Aryl had arrived, Tor Blood closed his eyes and shook his black mane like he was trying to gather his resolve before he spoke to the human and his griffin companion. "Nazar Blood, thank you for bringing Muriel Blood's Son so quickly." Then focusing on the young man with eyes as yellow as a blazing sunset, the griffin elder said, "I have a favor to ask of you."

  "Tor Blood, ask away. If it's in my power to do your bidding, I most certainly will."

  The renowned griffin nodded his massive head as he looked to the elders who stood nearby in the cave whose walls were blackened by the countless fires that had burned there to provide light for the gatherings. Seeing them encouraging him on, Tor Blood recaptured J'Aryl with his gaze and added, "Before I make my request, I need to give it some context." Then clearing his throat with a sound that was close to a growl, he gave a detailed description of all that was known about the assassin who was preying on the pride's young.

  J'Aryl learned that the Community of Blood was certain it was an unusually large serpent eel that was to blame, a creature that had no business meddling with the griffin community. Normally smaller in size, serpent eels chose comparably sized prey to ambush: fish mostly, and any crustacean that crawled too close to its hiding place. The serpent eel's preferred mode of operation was to strike the unwary from a place of concealment. It didn't patrol a territory that would expose it to attacks from other predators.

  "We think we've located the creature's lair," Tor Blood explained. "The problem is that the entrance to the place is too small for an adult griffin to enter. And a younger griffin, small enough to fit through the opening, would stand little chance of surviving a fight with such a monster."

  "That's why you sent Nazar Blood to bring me here." J'Aryl was following the direction that Tor Blood was going. "You need my help."

  "Yes, we do." The griffin elder looked suddenly weary as he spoke. "Though we have no wish to risk the life of one of Muriel Blood's children, we feel compelled to ask for your help. Sadly, it's gotten to the point where there appears to be no other recourse. Your size and the Candle Maker powers you possess are well suited for the plans we have developed."

  Stepping closer to J'Aryl, Tor Blood shook off the look of weariness that had besieged him and said, "There was a time when Muriel Blood needed our help. Today, we need her's. Since she is not here, nor do we have time to wait for her to be brought to this place, we are asking you to act in her stead. As the son of the Prophetess and Hammer Bearer, you have been taught to fight and have received instructions on the use of the Warl's Magic. Will you help us?"

  "I carry Candle Maker candles with me and have the trident I use to go fishing with the pride," J'Aryl responded as he studied the faces of the winged-lions who were gathered in the Cave of Meeting, those whose unblinking eyes waited for his reply. "Tell me what you want me to do. I'm not afraid of the serpent eel."

  With low rumbling voices providing a background as spontaneous side conversations broke out among the griffin elders after J'Aryl had his say, Tor Blood replied, "You should be afraid. The eel can strike with lightning quickness. It's huge and almost entirely comprised of muscle."

  "The Candle Maker's magic will shield me from the serpent eel's attack. My trident will be the griffin fangs I lack. I promise you, I'll strike the thing down."

  Frowning over the show of youthful exuberance, Tor Blood blinked his eyes slowly knowing the risks Muriel Blood's Son was being asked to take. Would Muriel Blood forgive the griffin if her son was injured or killed, he wondered. But if the strategy the elders had developed worked out, J'Aryl's life wouldn't be in danger. Or would it? Tor Blood felt bile rise up into his throat as he considered the part the pride would ask the young man to play.

  Chapter 8: Serpent Eel

  The light, cast from the translucent air-filled bubble covering J'Aryl’s head, revealed that the water in the tunnel had developed a surface. Stone was no longer visible above him, only a mirror-like reflection, portending the space that lay beyond, was evident. With its placid skin gently undulating from the disturbance his smooth swimming motion produced, the young man lifted his head above the water’s surface. Looking about a chamber, whose size was impossible to ascertain from his present vantage point, J'Aryl slipped quietly out of the water and stood on the flat stone floor that abutted the pool.

  With a wave of one hand, the translucent sphere that had been covering his head was removed, while his other hand kept a firm grip on the trident he carried. Continuing to reshape what was once a transparent bubble that provided the air needed to make the passage down the water-filled tunnel, J'Aryl soon had a candle in hand. After breathing into the candle's flickering flame to increase its intensity so he could scan the unexpected chamber, J'Aryl warily looked about.

  What did a serpent eel need with such a place? It didn't have lungs to breathe air. Nor could it travel on solid ground. Besides, if a griffin was able to squeeze through the narrow passage that lead from the Largryk Sea and into this place, the massive pocket of air would provide fuel the winged-lion needed to renew its struggle against the slimy monster. Then he heard a sound that gave a clue to why the serpent eel had chosen this place for its lair.

  A slurping noise
came out of one of the crevices slicing their way into the crystalline walls that surrounded the large pool of water, a noise that echoed about in the otherwise silent chamber as it bounced off an uneven ceiling that could barely be detected on the fringe of the field of light the candle sent forth. Then the watery, slurping noise was heard again while the sound of wide feet, slapping against stone, joined in.

  J'Aryl heard about noises that sounded like this when his parents told him and his brothers about their struggles with the dreaded river children- Schmar’s loathsome offspring. But wasn’t their kind eradicated from Nyeg Warl after the Battle of Decision? From Nyeg Warl, yes. But could some have survived the combined efforts of the griffin and elves who hunted them down for all the harm they and their father had inflicted upon the people. And if some had survived the hunt, what better place to go to than to Stromane to exact revenge.

  Harsh, watery voices were soon dispersed among the slurping sounds as J'Aryl stood listening. They’ve seen the candle’s light, he guessed. But this was only to be expected. J'Aryl had come to confront the evil that lived here, not hide from it. Hissing, snapping noises joined the cacophonous sound that wafted into the chamber a moment before two man-like creatures exited the fissure. Black as night, they would have looked like mere shadows against the white stone if not for the reflective quality their slimy skin possessed, a quality that gave their forms depth.

  Shaped like short-legged men with elongated bodies, their hairless heads were hard to differentiate from the thick necks they sat on. The creatures’ feet were wide and flat. Their hands, holding barbed spears in their grasp, were webbed. Long, talon-like claws protruded from their thumbs. These were used to latch onto the prey they intended to bite into with red mouths that were as round as soup bowls and filled with hundreds of bristle-like teeth. Shorter claws tipped the rest of their long fingers.

  Eyes, large and black like fish have, were focused on the man the creatures assumed was a Candle Maker. Erupting in horrible, watery laughter, what did they have to fear from a wizard whose powers were focused on healing and not fighting?

  “Have you come to soothe our wounded souls with your gentle words?” One of the mocking creatures spat out as they advanced on the stranger, feet slapping against cool stone as they went.

  The sound of a human-like voice, garbled with watery intonation, took J'Aryl aback. Inhuman as they looked, the voice seemed grossly out of place.

  “Wizard, we have nothing that needs healing,” the second river child added with a gurgling voice that was deep and threatening. “But if you wait a moment, you can heal yourself, that is, if your candle’s flame can raise the dead.”

  A wry smile crossed J'Aryl’s face as he realized the monsters assumed he was a benevolent wizard. Having been raised by Jeaf and Muriel Oakenfel, who taught him to expect the unexpected, J'Aryl was hardly put off by the turn of events. Instead, he adjusted his plans accordingly and sent the candle he held twirling about until it took on the shape of a round, fiery shield he planned to use for protection as he went to confront the river children. The hissing, snapping sounds that were coming out of the crevice the monsters had exited didn't slow his advance. He knew a serpent eel was near, but he wasn’t aware they could live out of the water.

  Seeing the fiery shield the stranger had fashioned, and the trident he brandished about in warrior-like fashion, the river children soon guessed this was no ordinary Candle Maker. Turning their heads back to the jagged opening, they growled out a watery command in a language J'Aryl didn’t understand. In response, the hissing and snapping increased, so much so that the chamber was soon gorged with layers of echoing sound that mimicked the ugly noise.

  In time, a creature that looked like the description of a serpent eel the griffin had given J'Aryl, but ten times the expected size, slithered out of the crevice. Then it stood up on two powerful forelegs, making it look like a dragon had responded to the river children's command. With a dark green-colored body, covered with yellow and white spots, the serpent eel's eyes were red as freshly drawn blood. Its nose and mouth was elongated like a dog's muzzle. No hind legs could be seen.

  Surely magic was at work here, the kind used to twist nature and make the mutant creatures that purveyors of evil used as weapons to terrorize the Warl of Men. But as far as J'Aryl knew, though Schmar’s magic had been great, the river children lacked the power to do this. Something else must be here, he guessed, something hiding in the shadows.

  As if the shadows had read J'Aryl's mind, they gave up the one they had been hiding as a black-robed human stepped into the light. A spark of brilliant light appeared before the man's form a moment before it began to whirl about as it grew larger and took on the shape of a huge, fiery hand. With the magical light reaching into the depths of the cowl that covered the Hag’s head, for it was apparent that this was one of Ar Warl’s dark wizards, it revealed the sallow face hidden within, a face whose teeth ground together with the effort the Hag was using to manipulate its black candle.

  With two river children, a mutated serpent eel, and a candle-wielding Hag confronting him, the fight was proving to be more dangerous than J'Aryl expected. Though his life began in a womb the Hammer of Power’s indomitable magic had touched, and his parents were the Prophetess and Hammer Bearer, J'Aryl was, nonetheless, still a youth. Born with gifts that normal men didn’t possess, his ability to use the Candle Maker’s candles without having the prerequisite training being an example of one of these gifts, J'Aryl still lacked experience. His talents were untested and, for the most part, untapped. An unseasoned warrior, he was facing those who had survived wars now long past and, no doubt, had a plan set in place to deal with those who would dare to trespass into the serpent eel’s lair. With this in mind, J'Aryl’s goal had changed from killing the serpent eel, to escaping the trap he had stumbled into.

  Pulling up short of the river children, J'Aryl reinforced the incandescent shield he was holding onto by focusing his thoughts into the circular field of magic and calling on the candle's flame to buttress the shield’s strength. This was not done a moment too soon since the Hag sent the fiery hand it had created flying towards the radiant shield.

  Like a ball of flame thrown by a catapult, it burst across the shield’s surface. But instead of dissipating for lack of fuel to feed upon, the wildly burning flame quickly reshaped itself into the huge hand once again, a hand whose fingers were tipped with sharp knife-like nails made of white hot fire that tore at the shield, rending it as it did.

  Shreds of dislodged magic were thrown about the subterranean chamber, all curly like strips of rind had been cut off a piece of fruit. The sparks filling the air made it easy to see the gashes that had been torn into the shield, as well as the broad smile that spread across the Hag’s face.

  Realizing his compromised shield made him vulnerable, J'Aryl released the radiant disk at the same moment the charging river children thrust their spears through the gashes the Hag’s fiery hand had opened up and took a step backward. If he hadn’t done this when he did, he would have been skewered. Then at a distance that was a mere hand’s breadth away from the barbed spear tips that reached out to pierce his flesh, J'Aryl turned his hand like he was unscrewing the lid on a jar that was facing him. As he did this, the shield that was kept aloft by its own power turned in like fashion as it responsed to the young man's command. And just as J'Aryl intended it to, the shield's twisitng motion snapped the spears in two.

  Moving ever forward, the dark wizard’s massive, fiery hand pressed its advantage and took hold of the ruined shield in an effort to crush the Candle Maker's flame in its grasp. But this wasn't to be, for Stromane possessed magic unlike the rest of the warl.

  Calling on this reservoir of mystical might, J'Aryl re-enforced the beleaguered candle's flame with a dose of resilience his thoughts commanded the island to provide. With Stromane replenishing the candle's power, the shield's fading fire erupted and cast the closing fingers away a moment before the shield re-shaped itself into
a luminous wall the Hag's magic couldn't get past, at least not quickly and maybe not until the candle's wick had been completely used up, a prospect that wasn't far away with how much magic was being expended.

  Not taking time to see the full affect of what he had conjured up, realizing his manuever wouldn't last long, J'Aryl took a deep breath and dove back into the water-filled tunnel. And when the candle finally burned itself out, something its feverish labors were quickly bringing to pass, the serpent eel would be on him.

  The water-filled tunnel pulsed with light as the Candle Maker's candle used up the power it had drawn from the ambient magic inundating Stromane's environs. Not knowing how much time was left before the serpent eel could safely begin its pursuit, J'Aryl swam for all he was worth hoping the air in his lungs was enough to fuel his muscles until he reached the open sea.

  As his air supply dwindled, the light behind him diminished right along with it. J'Aryl didn't know if this was due to the distance he had traveled or because the candle's magic was giving way to Hag sorcery. A Blinding flash of light gave evidence that the later was the case. The force of the water that drove up behind him made this abundantly clear.

  The Hag's dark power had finally snuffed out the candle's dwindling light and sent a foreboding wave of energy crashing into the fleeing man. Pushed up against the tunnel's roof, and then against one of the sides before being thrown against the opposite wall, J'Aryl was battered about by the torrent that would have sent him tumbling end-over-end if there was enough room for him to do so. Still, he was bludgeoned by the uneven walls that bruised and cut his flesh. Luckily, when his head finally hit stone, it didn't strike it hard enough for him to lose consciousness. But it did leave him dazed as he struggled to right himself as he was swept along.