A SECOND HERO ARRIVED at their village a few days later. Another self-proclaimed master swordsman, this one was much more impressive. He wore leather armor engraved with the outlines of a variety of different creatures, all of which he claimed to have killed. Unlike the previous Hero, he carried a single long sword, its hilt inlaid with jewels and the hand-guard carved with intricate designs on its surface. He had wide shoulders and a trim waistline. At the inn, Hero number-two leapt from tabletop to tabletop without losing his balance, showing off his athleticism for the delighted crowd. What an arrogant buffoon, thought Ean, but he had to admit that the physically fit second Hero showed more promise than the first one had.
And at the bog he lasted twice as long before the creature made a snack of him. Ean watched the whole battle from the same spot, this time without Bran and Jaslen. He hadn’t seen the two since the night they had watched the first Hero die. He had to admit it hurt, and he felt abandoned, but he was used to them only making brief appearances in his life.
The third Hero arrived about twelve days after the beast made a home in the mines. He came into town on the wagons of an unknown trader, which in itself was something special. For the added visitor, the villagers set up their stalls in the town square like it was the Harvest Festival, hoping to sell the little crafts they made in their spare time. The few families that had produced a good harvest brought out a variety of different meals to serve to the trader. All of the meals were made of different types of beans, since it was one of the few edible plants that grew in the valley, but the villagers had learned enough over the years to spice them up in different ways to make them interesting.
The Hero appeared to have magical abilities of his own, thus also considered a Magus. After the wagons had settled in around the village square, he leapt out of the back, throwing sparks of different colored energy into the air. Then, in a shower of red lights, he was gone, appearing again on the other side of the square as more sparks flew from his fingertips. The crowd that had gathered around by that point cheered and followed along after the Hero as he bowed once and sauntered his way back towards the inn.
While the villagers laughed and cheered as they followed along after the man, Ean found the whole situation ironic. The fact that the gruesome deaths of villagers and Heroes at the hands of a horrible creature would bring the town to life was funny in a sad sort of way. He looked forward to the day he could leave this cruel town more than ever. The only thing keeping him here now was his complete lack of money, since Krane had stolen most of it from him. He had no idea how long it would take to save up enough money to leave. But he was here now and curious to see what this new Hero was capable of doing.
Ean frowned as he passed the two men the mayor had posted at the entrance to the inn. Their mere presence kept the town folks on their best behavior. Ean managed to weave his way through the crowd gathered on the porch and reach the front doors. The thugs guarding the door were only being paid to toss people out, not keep paying patrons from coming in, so they let Ean pass through the swinging doors.and he weaved his way through the crowd gathered right at the entrance.
The place was packed. He had to muscle his way through the crowd to find a place close to the new visitor. With the inn so packed, it took him a while to figure out where the Magus was sitting. The failures of the previous two Heroes had made the town cynical. People had come here to socialize and get drunk, not to dote on some pompous windbag who would probably be dead this time tomorrow. Nonetheless, the third Hero had found a small audience. Ean spotted him at a table in the far corner of the room, leaning back in his chair with a mug of ale in one hand. By the time Ean wormed his way over to him, the man seemed to be in the middle of a story.
“I found half of the loggers dead, ripped apart and fed upon. The beast was nearby, a horrible creature three times the size of dog and twice as mean looking. I recognized it right a way; the steam coming off the ground and bodies where the saliva of the beast had landed marked it as a Hound from the Abyss. Its back was to me as it feasted on one of the unlucky men. Not wanting to risk a lengthy battle, I unleashed all of my magic on it before it knew I was even there.”
“Where does your power come from?” a voice called out from the crowd.
The Hero’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. With a visible effort, he forced a smile before answering.
“An excellent question, even if it did interrupt the story.” He cast another glance around the room before continuing on. "We Magus or Magi, that’s what my kind of magic user call ourselves, draw the energy for our magic from our bodies, a sort of well that the older Magi, from days long past, called a Sal-Eum. Now, it doesn’t matter the size of a man or woman’s body; the depth of each person’s Sal-Eum is as different as each person’s nose in here tonight. Most of you might even be able to hold a small amount; it just might be so small that it’s not noticeable.”
He waved the serving girl back over. The Magus snatched the pitcher of ale she was holding and held it up along with his cup. “This pitcher is a good representation of my own ability. A decent amount, but nowhere near the capacity of the most powerful Magi. Thankfully, the most intelligent Magus of the past found a way to increase all of our capacities.” Raising his free hand, the Magus showed off a variety of rings on each of his fingers.
“These are called Wells. Let’s say my cup here represents the Wells that I wear on my fingers. Once my own Sal-Eum is full, it begins to overflow.” The Magus tipped the pitcher over, pouring the golden brown ale down into his cup. “The Wells catch and store the overflow, allowing me to draw power from them later.” He paused, taking a long swig from his cup. “Or from my Sal-Eum.” Tilting his head back, he took a longer swig from the pitcher. “See.” He paused again, this time to belch. “Nothing complicated about it.”
Ean found the whole explanation enlightening, but he was more curious about the Hound. The scars on his left arm were a testament to his own experience with one of the creatures, and that one had looked like a pup. Pushing his way closer to the Magus, he called out to him. “What happened with the Hound?”
The Magus glanced at Ean briefly, then turned his attention back to the crowd and continued on with his story. “Well now, as I was saying, the Hound was focused on his meal and didn’t know I was there. I drew on all of my power, both my Sal-Eum and the power in my rings, and unleashed upon the beast streaks of pure energy.” He shot a little bolt of yellow energy out of his finger into the air. It fizzled out before reaching the ceiling. “The savage beast didn’t have a chance. Its body was torn to shreds by the energy before it hit the ground.”
“Did you see any distinguishing marks on its body?” Ean was leaning in further now, his interest peaked. The Magus paused a moment underneath that stare, then let out a laugh.
“I was too busy worrying about ending up like the rest of the loggers to notice, boy,” the Hero slurred. “Why does it matter anyway?”
“No reason,” Ean sighed in disappointment. “Just curious is all.”
“No problem at all, boy,” the Magus said, leaning back in his chair again. “It’s only natural for a simple village boy to be curious about the rest of the world. Now how about I tell you the story about how I killed a whole pack of–?” But Ean was already making his way out the door.
The sun had reached its midday position in the sky, which gave him plenty of time to make it to the bog ahead of the Hero. Ean wanted to find a prime spot to watch the idiot Magus get eaten. As he started making his way down the street, he couldn’t help picture the cocky man getting scooped up in the creature’s huge hands and made a meal. Of course, part of him felt a little bad about the thought; maybe the Magus would succeed after all. Deep in thought, Ean made it about halfway down the road when something struck him in the back. He was about to defend himself when Zin’s voice whispered in his ear.
“What was all that about in the inn? You might as well have come out and said you’ve seen a Hound before.” Zin spoke in hushed tone
s, making his whiney voice difficult to hear. “The villagers are always looking for an excuse to punish you, so you better quit asking about the Hound. They’ll run you right out of the village if they even suspect that you have a connection to the Abyss.”
“They were all focused on the Hero’s stories” Ean brushed off his comment with a wave of his hand. “Besides, I wanted to know if he had killed my Hound. It would have made me somewhat upset.”
“YOUR Hound?” Zin shouted. Thankfully, most of the village was out of earshot. “I wouldn’t exactly call that mangy beast a puppy—an acid-slobbering killing machine is more like it. Even as young as it was, that creature was a menace.”
“He wasn’t all that bad.”
“Not that bad?” Zin let out a harsh laugh. “He chased me around the room, trying to make a meal of me, and he did a number on you when you tried to send him back.”
Ean rubbed at his left arm. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t strong enough to control him at that point. But that’s not his fault. He was just acting out like any puppy.”
“Except most normal puppies don’t leave you burnt and scarred from their saliva.”
Ean shook his shoulders about, trying to dislodge the pesky imp clinging to his back, but failed as usual. Unable to persuade his friend, he changed the subject. “So, what do you think— this Magus fellow have any chance bringing the creature down?”
“Nope, but watching him try is sure to be fun.” Zin said then held up a dead rat for Ean to see. “I even brought a snack.”
AND ZIN HAD BEEN right.
From his usual hiding spot, Ean watched a real magic user battle the beast. The Magus sent bolts of blue that sizzled and lit tiny flames on the creature’s scales. Bolts of orange and yellow crackled with electricity but bounced off the creature and into the night. Whenever a bolt hit, it would explode in a dazzling display of light, illuminating the mine and nearby bog. This always seemed to blind the monster for a few moments but nothing more. Eventually, the creature would make his way through the bolts to within striking distance of the Magus, only to find the man far to its left, right, or back.
Ean was fascinated to see a different kind of magic at work. His own magic relied on runes and the language of the Abyss, where the slightest mistake could result in disastrous consequences. The night he had created light out of thin air had happened more on instinct than Ean having an idea of what he was doing. Seeing the Magus launch the magic out of his fingertips at will opened up a whole new realm of possibilities.
The Magus’s spells, on the other hand, leapt from his fingers on command. He moved across the field in the blink of an eye without any elaborate motions or fancy words. It all seemed so simple. Ean would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t a little jealous of the ease of how the Magus’s magic seemed to work.
The Magus started to show signs of tiring. His bolts began to dim, and the previous rainbow of colors he had used before was reduced to only blue. He also wasn’t able to teleport himself as far, each jump seeming to put him closer to the beast than the last. After one last burst of energy to the beast’s eyes, the Magus teleported back in the direction of the town and took off running. By the time the creature had oriented itself again, the Magus was far out of its reach.
Ean watched the man run towards the protection of the village until he was a gray dot on the horizon. It had been the second best possible outcome. It would have been great if the Magus had succeeded, but watching him fail and survive to live with that failure was an acceptable outcome. He crouched there, laughing, until Zin tugged on his glove. The imp pointed to the mine with a wide-eyed expression. Following Zin’s finger, Ean’s stomach dropped when he realized the monster was looking straight at him with those awful, yellow eyes. A strangled sound escaped from Zin just before he turned invisible.
The creature was still in the same spot as before, but it had turned and was now facing Ean. He hadn’t realized how close the Magus and the creature had gotten to his position, but he was aware of it now. It was close enough that he could make out its blood-stained teeth and black claws.
Ean froze. It had every opportunity to catch him while he had been laughing and not paying attention. Why hadn’t it attacked? If the thing charged now, he should be able to lose it in the bog, maybe blind it with the same rune he had used before.
A dozen different possibilities raced through Ean’s mind. A moment later, the creature turned around and stomped back to the cave. Afraid to move, Ean held his breath, expecting it to change its mind at any second and come storming back out. When it didn’t, he let out a long breath. His limbs were trembling, but he was grateful to be alive.
Zin shimmered then reappeared, looking just as confused as Ean. “I have no idea what that was all about,” Zin said, his eyes locked on the mine entrance. “But let’s not press our luck.” Not waiting for a response, the imp started heading back the way they came.
After a few moments, Ean jogged to catch up, slowing down once he reached his friend and matching his pace. “After not catching its meal and being riled up by all of those blasts from the Magus, why wouldn’t it at least try to come after us?”
The imp waved his question off with a clawed hand. “Who knows, and who cares? I’m just happy not to be a meal.” He shuddered and continued walking.
There had to be something more to what happened than simple indifference by the beast. They returned to the house without answers. Zin crawled into his sleeping spot beneath the bed, while Ean climbed onto the mattress and burrowed into his sheets. Staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t stop thinking that there was more to the monster’s retreat than apathy. But the answer continued to elude him as he drifted off to sleep.
WAKING UP EARLY, EAN headed downstairs to see if there was news about the Hero. Cleff informed him about the Magus’s embarrassing departure. While Ean had been making his way back home the night before, the Magus had run all the way back through town. He didn’t even stop to collect his things from the inn as he ran out of the village and towards the pass out of the valley. As unfortunate as it was that the Magus hadn’t taken down the beast, Ean was glad that there hadn’t been another death.
Later that morning, while Ean was busy cataloguing and organizing Cleff’s various bottles and containers of potions and plants, a villager stopped by the house. Cleff greeted him at the door, while Ean hovered behind in case Cleff needed his aid. The villager was only there to deliver a message, saying that the Mayor had called for an emergency village meeting. The entire village was to meet in front of the inn before midday.
Ean worked twice as fast at finishing his chores so that he could make his way down to the inn early. It was rare for the Mayor to gather the whole village for a meeting. Usually the man preferred to make all of the decisions himself. That was, after all, the best way to ensure that any decision made was the most beneficial to him.
After finishing up his work, Ean jogged up the road to the front of the inn, which was already packed with people. It seemed like the whole village was already there. The Mayor wore an arrogant smirk as he gazed over the gathering crowd. Bran stood at his side looking confident as usual. Krane stood on the opposite side of the mayor with a superior scowl. What a threesome, Ean thought. I’m surprised the porch doesn’t collapse under the weight of so much pride.
Ean was stuck on the edge of the crowd, his small frame no help for how packed the villagers were gathered around the front of the inn. The Mayor cleared his throat and stepped forward. The crowd grew silent as they waited for him to speak.
“My fellow villagers! Thank you so much for meeting together here on such short notice. These are troubling times, I know, but I believe I have come up with a solution to rid ourselves of the beast that has taken over our mine!”
Ean pushed himself as close as possible in order to listen as the Mayor continued on. He received a few dirty looks for his efforts but ignored them.
“The worry I have felt for the well-being of our fellow villagers
has kept me awake most nights, and I have spent many days thinking about what can be done. Our fallen Heroes had strength, skill and courage, so I keep asking myself the question: Why did they fail?
My friends, I have found the answer to that question: Ignorance. They did not know what they faced--the monster’s habits, strengths or weaknesses. Everything the gods put on this earth has a weakness; we just need to know how to find it, which brings me to the solution of our problem: Knowledge.”
A murmur from the crowd started, but the Mayor silenced it with a raised hand. “How are we to discover the way in which to beat the creature? The answer is to send one of our own to the capitol, to ask the very leaders of the temples for help.” The Mayor lifted his hands in triumph as if just his idea had already saved the village. He stood there, hands raised until the crowd applauded. When the applause died off, he continued.
“And who should we send? Who should we task with such an important mission?” He grew quiet then, glancing around at the crowd and trying to add to the suspense. Reaching back, the Mayor wrapped a giant arm around Bran and pulled him forward. “My own son, of course! Intelligence and skilled with the blade, he will set out on a quest to bring about the end of the beast, one way or another!”
The crowd cheered. The village viewed Bran as their own beloved son. They were eager to get behind any campaign that heralded him as their personal savior. Bran allowed the applause to last for some time then raised his hand, which silenced the crowd.
“I feel honored to be chosen for such an important task.” Bran’s face had grown serious now as he addressed the villagers. “But for such an important quest, I should not go alone. I will be going out into a world where dangerous creatures and brigands prey on unwary travelers. If I am to survive, I will need someone who is skilled at bandaging wounds, healing broken bones, and dealing with poisons.”
The crowd started to chant Cleff’s name. Despite his advanced age, he was the obvious choice to go on a long trip. As thoughts of all the freedom he would have with Cleff out of the house ran through his head, the crowd quieted down.
Bound to the Abyss Page 6
