Greffel slowly rose up and put some weight on the once broken leg, "Oh, that feels much better, Draegos! Thank you!" He even did a little hop, and then removed the splint. "Yep. Good as new!" But Greffel’s skin was an ashen color, which Draegos knew meant he had been severely injured.
Draegos examined the corridor they had ended up in and searched for an exit tunnel through all the debris. Then he had the two gnomes follow him as they went down the hall that Draegos had recently emerged. They came to the landing he had levitated to, and he looked up towards the open pit to the sky.
"We could climb up and out," he informed the others.
"Is it safe to do that, after the quakes?" Glorýa asked in reply.
"Safer than trying to dig out a corridor that might collapse anyway," Draegos responded and then continued, "I have some climbing gear. We can use ropes and carabiners. I'll scamper up and place them, then you can follow."
He then removed his pack and grabbed some of the carabiners he had left, a small hammer and hand drill, and then he put on his crampons. Then he climbed out onto the pit wall and began free-climbing it. After ascending ten feet, he grabbed the hammer on his belt, carefully placed a carabiner on the wall, and hammered. Then he ran a rope through it and secured the line. He continued this, one every fifteen feet until he reached the top a hundred feet up.
"He is quite agile," Greffel said as he watched nervously.
"He has a few gifts, doesn't he?" Glorýa replied, her hands clenched into fists as she watched the dwarf’s form scamper up the pit. He disappeared at the top and then re-emerged.
"All clear!" he called down to them. "Climb on up! The rope is secured!"
As Draegos helped each one out of the pit, he tossed the rope back in and said a silent prayer to the deceased. He then built a cairn at their spot, for the dead, and then they all stood looking out over the Great Inland Sea. They were at sixteen thousand feet, the air was thin, and the winds were freezing, but Glorýa noticed it did not seem to bother the dwarf.
Draegos turned to the southwest and pointed down the chain of mountains known as the Shield Mountains. Then he spoke. "We'll have to go down to the base because the tops are nothing but ice and snow year-round." Then he pointed out a road twenty miles from their position and down the mountain where they stood, and she saw how it wound through the snow-filled valleys and right into Nýa'Bín.
"Well, we have twenty miles until we hit a road that we can use the wagon on. We’d best get moving before the snow comes," Draegos said as he readied his Ice Staff. The gnomes pulled up their hoods and fell in line behind the dwarf as they all began their descent down the mountainside. The clouds rolled in, dark and billowy, and the temperatures dropped even more.
Draegos did not seem to notice the cold, but he did notice that the gnomes were showing signs of freezing. So he stopped and took off his pack and instructed them to do the same.
"We'll build a snow cave to rest. But we better hurry ‘cause I am not sure how long we have until the storm hits us, or how bad it will be." He began to dig into the snowpack and instructed the gnomes to start piling up as much snow as possible. They worked at it for an hour as they sky began to turn on them, and the winds became merciless. Finally, they were finished, and they crawled into it.
Draegos used the packs to seal the entrance, leaving the bags accessible but blocking out the wind and cold. Once inside he lit a few candles and Glorýa took out a second cloak and laid it on the ground for comfort and to shield them from the frozen ground. Greffel settled into his warm winter cloak and was soon snoring as the other two sat listening to the winds howl. Glorýa looked over at Draegos, noticing the look in his eye, and she wondered what deep secret or weight he was carrying.
She leaned over to her pack and opened the top flap, rummaged around inside it, and pulled out something wrapped in a cloth. Slowly she unfolded the object and revealed an eye patch. It was made of soft leather, with a felt backing, and adorned with a crystal-blue tiger's eye gem in the center. She had carefully fashioned it in the shape of an eye and inlaid it into the eye patch. She turned to face Draegos and presented the gift.
He sat there looking at the finely crafted eye patch, and a tear fell from his eye. Gently he took it and marveled at the new “eye” he would wear. She watched, a slight smile forming on her lips, as she saw how much he appreciated the gift.
"Let me help you put it on," she said as she moved behind him. He turned and began removing the bandages from his head, his hair matted with sweat and blood, as Glorýa turned his head to see the eye.
"Oh, Draegos," she said as she saw the damage up close. "Does it hurt?"
"Only when I laugh." They both shared a single chuckle, and she removed the cloth from within the dead eye. "Do you have any clean cloth?"
He pointed to the outer pocket on his pack. "In there. Some fine linen."
She grabbed a small piece and rolled it into a small ball. Gently, she placed it in the eye cavity. She reached back and pulled the two cords together into a tight snug knot and turned to face the dwarf, to view him with the new patch.
"Well, at least it matches your other eye."
"Something’s different. Is this patch magical?" Draegos asked.
"A bit, yes," Glorýa responded and then continued, "I noticed you were having trouble with your field of vision, so I added a spell to help with that."
He looked around and noticed how he could sort of sense what was to his right, even though he could not see, and then he looked at Glorýa, seeing something very different. "Did you know you glow?" Draegos asked.
"Glow? What do you mean?" she asked.
"It's like the energy from within is shining out." He leaned in closer and looked into her beautiful green eyes. He saw something brilliant flash within, and then he saw her death. The image flashed quickly, but he was able to notice it involved a massive collapse of a cavern and her caught within it. He jumped back.
You cannot run from your destiny, dwarf, the spirit said.
"Are you okay, Draegos?" Glorýa asked as he jumped back.
"Just tired. I need some fresh air," Draegos said as he moved his pack to the side to leave the snow shelter. He exit the confines of the makeshift shelter and stood in the swirling snow, the winds whipping all around him as he gazed at the world with his new eye.
Two things came to his mind as he stood there in the blizzard, the first being he could see the world as if through two eyes again, and the second thing was he wasn't even the slightest bit cold or bothered by the blizzard. His hand went to the ax at his side, and he could feel a slight vibration from it. Something was coming, and it was big. He decided to duck back into the snow shelter and inform Glorýa of the impending conflict.
He pulled the packs back together and sat beside Glorýa. "We have a new problem."
"What's going on, Draegos?" she asked, and then she grabbed her rune chips and donned a winter cloak.
"Not sure, but something big is coming," he said as he too prepared for the battle.
"Greffel is in no shape to fight, Draegos. What are we going to do?”
"We'll fight it together, you and I, and when done, we'll rest," he said as he flashed her a toothy grin.
"Okay then. I have only a few spells left to throw, but my sword should be just as good."
"Then we'll go out swinging, like warriors," he said as he moved the packs to exit. She followed, placing the packs back into their spot as she exited. Then Draegos buried the entrance.
"Why did you do that?" Glorýa asked. She stood there with her sword drawn and ready for battle, looking around occasionally.
"If we die, I don't want whatever got us to get Greffel," he replied, then he drew his ax and dagger, holding them ready, and they didn't have long to wait.
Several moments went by, as the two companions stood looking for the impending doom, and suddenly they saw what headed their way. Cresting the ice-packed hill, the head of a blood giant came into view, and Draegos took a step back. He
turned to look at Glorýa who stood defiantly in her stance and drew courage from her example. But that wasn't the only adversary headed towards the two. The dark red eyes of the giant scanned the area and found his target, locking on the face of Draegos.
"May the Great Philosophers guide our blades," he heard Glorýa pray, to which Draegos added, "May we be victorious over this great foe." They each raised their weapons as they waited for the approaching conflict.
"It's been a great adventure so far, Draegos, I only hope we can continue." She drew in several breaths as she prepared her last spell to throw. Draegos took the hint, and he focused on a spell to throw. Time slowed down, the flakes in the air seemed suspended, and the winds dropped altogether.
The dwarf readied his ax, and spoke the first words for his spell, holding the last one for the right moment. His new eye revealed the giant’s dark colored aura, and he knew there would be no way to negotiate; it would be a battle to the death. Draegos was not ready to die.
Without warning, Draegos charged the blood giant. He knew he had to keep the beast away from the snow cave, so he took the fight forward. That was when Glorýa noticed the dire wolves, each flanking the two little adventurers, so she waited for the right moment before releasing her last spell. The wolves jumped at her, while the giant engaged the dwarf.
As the first wolf jumped at her, she laid her body back and fell on the ice, reaching out to touch the wolf's chest. As her fingertips made contact, she shouted "Bué'Nath'Ećplosyous!”[20]
The wolf landed, turned, shuddered, and then collapsed on the ground before her. She immediately got to her feet and held her wrought-iron sword in both hands, scanning for the other wolf. She could see the blood giant swing his great club at the dwarf, who just rolled and stepped to the side to avoid it. Draegos looked different with his new abilities, his body seemed displaced, and she noticed he was chanting something under his breath as he circled his adversary.
He watched as the giant tested his skills, swinging his great club at the dwarf periodically, watching and learning. Draegos was tired, his magic fading, and he did not want to fight this beast. But there was a price to pay, and he was starting to think that maybe he could pay that price through the deaths of his enemies. A howl erupted from behind him, and he turned to see a wolf bearing down on him.
Glorýa ran towards the wolf as fast as she could, but she knew she would not make it before both the wolf and giant attacked Draegos. She raised her sword up and released a rallying cry. The wolf turned its head just in time to dodge a swing from her. It reared up and tried to bite at her face; she turned and deflected his attack with the flat of her blade.
Draegos ducked under the club of the giant as he ran between the creature’s legs and behind it. The giant turned but did not expect the dwarf to throw his ax. It landed on the right side of the giant's face, and he roared with anger as he bled. The dwarf reached his hand up, and the ax returned to it. Then he began running in circles around the giant, the winds began to pick up, obscuring them from view.
Glorýa kept her eyes on the dire wolf, and they each stood to face off. They began to sidestep into a circle pattern, and she wondered how long she could fight the wolf without help. She needed to end it quickly, or she would become too tired. She decided to perform a feint. As they circled, the wolf leaped at her, she fell back, and as she did so brought the sword up into the gut of the wolf. It landed on her full force, and as it felt the blade sink deep into its stomach, it went to bite her face, but she had thrown her left arm up to protect her. The wolf bit down hard as it tried to kill her, and she let out a scream of pain.
Draegos ran and ran, the winds chasing him, and caused the area to become a flurry of snow and frost. The giant was becoming angry at not being able to hit his target, so he began wildly swinging his club, seeking to land some blow. Draegos was too small and quick, and as the giant became enraged and dizzy from watching him, the dwarf grew confident in its demise. At the right moment, the dwarf grabbed the club as he ran by, holding on as it was raised up for another strike. The giant noticed the dwarf was no longer in front of him and he searched the area for the tricky foe.
The wolf died, but its jaws remained locked around Glorýa's left arm. She struggled to get out from under the wolf but was unsuccessful; she had to figure out how to pry the wolf’s jaw open. With each movement, she felt the jagged teeth tear at her flesh, and she let out a scream of pain. Her only hope was Draegos.
Draegos let go of the club as it rose over the giant's head, and landed on its back. He grabbed a lock of hair to hold on to and began hacking away at the back of the giant’s head. The beast cried out in pain as the ax pierced his skull. He dropped his massive club and began to slap at the dwarf on his neck, but the dwarf was too quick, moving from side to side to avoid each slap. Finally, Draegos took out his long dagger and thrust it into the base of the giant's skull.
"There. There is your sacrifice. Make it count, spirit," Draegos said as he felt the body of the giant tense up. The giant had been defeated, and as his large form began to fall to the ground, the dwarf grabbed a lock of hair in each hand and rode it down like a large beast. As it slammed into the earth, Draegos rolled off and landed in the deep snow, and then sat up immediately as he heard Glorýa screaming.
As Draegos ran by the former giant, he grabbed the dagger from its skull and headed to the still body of the wolf. He immediately noticed the predicament Glorýa was in and slid the blade into the mouth of the dead wolf. There was so much blood that it made it difficult to find the right spot to place the knife to pry the jaw open. He looked at her grimaced face and noticed the color was starting to fade, her inner light was becoming dim, and he began to panic.
I told you she would be the first to die, the spirit spoke to the dwarf.
Anger lit his mind, energy surged through his body, and with a yell, he used his hands to pry the mouth wide. The jaw spread wide and broke as he pulled and jerked on it. As he fell back into the snow, still holding the bottom jaw, he scrambled to his feet to check on Glorýa. She was still breathing, but unconscious, and Draegos saw a significant amount of blood she was losing. He had to act fast.
He cut his cloak into strips, tearing them lengthwise, and wrapped them around her arm tightly. To stop her from losing all her blood, he tied a rope around her upper arm near the shoulder, and then he had to wake her to make sure she was okay. Deftly his hands worked, and his mind remembered what he learned as an apprentice. As he worked feverishly, he prayed.
What good are the Great Philosophers if they do not help? He asked as he worked.
What law says they must help? The spirit replied.
What good are they if they do not?
Ah, but you are assuming they want to help.
Draegos felt the presence of another spirit, and he mentally sought to engage it.
Can you help? He asked of the new spirit.
Yes. Draw this symbol in the center of her forehead. It showed Draegos a symbol in his mind, a circle with a dot in the middle, surrounded by a square and four rays.
He dipped his thumb in her blood and drew the symbol as instructed. The air grew still and warm, and he could see a golden light around them as it flowed down into the wound. The bleeding stopped, and the color began to return to her face. He finished tying the wraps up and sat back, breathing and silently sobbing. Slowly she began to stir.
He wiped away his tears and went back to her side, stroking her left cheek gently as he whispered in her ear, "You'll be okay. But we're going to need to get to Nýa'Bín and soon." She nodded a slow yes and lay on the snow breathing.
"I'm warm all over . . . Am I dying?" She asked. Her voice was raspy and weak, the dwarf had to lean close to hear it, and as Draegos pulled back his face, she saw tears.
"Not if I have anything to do with it." He left her side to fetch Greffel and their gear, and she noticed the cold settle back in. It's him. She noted as she watched him go.
Draegos ran back to the spot he
thought the cave was, but after digging for a few moments, he noted it was not the right location. Panic welled up deep inside as he began stomping around the snow-covered hill, searching for the snow shelter, frantically running his hands through the drifts and piles. He silently cursed himself as he could not figure out where it had been. He stopped and steadied his mind, focusing on the mountains and their arrangement, and stood to face them. The winds seemed to swirl around his feet, wanting him to follow them.
Glorýa inched her way up the dead wolf carcass to better see what the dwarf was raging on about and watched as he followed small dust devils of snow leading him to the location. He has the power of the elements, she again noted. Soon she witnessed the dwarf nose-diving into one of the several large piles of snow. He disappeared. Good! She thought to herself, focusing on her breathing, it means he found Greffel. She waited, while she sat and shivered, for the return of Draegos.
Draegos emerged with the packs and tossed them over towards Glorýa, glanced her way to check on her, then dived back under to retrieve Greffel. As he dragged the gnome over to his twin sister, he laid him down gently and began pouring everything out of the packs. Once everything was out, he began to break the packs down and remove the framing. Now and then he would check on the two injured gnomes. Glorýa watched, fading in and out, at what the curious dwarf was doing and finally asked, "What are you doing, Draegos?" Her voice was raspy and weak.
"We’ve got to get to the hamlet soon, or you may die. You lost a lot of blood. Greffel is not doing much better. I can't carry you both, so I am making a sled to pull you both on," he said. Then he began cutting the packs up. There were three backpacks, so he stuffed all the items he could into his own backpack, and then rigged the other two packs up to become a stretcher of sorts. He sat down, trying to get his breath, and gathered his thoughts.
You'll never make it with those two.
I'm trying to figure out why you are so bent on making me believe that.
You cannot get away from your destiny.
The Obsidian Axe: Prelude to the Prophecy Page 8
