by C. J. Strong
“You must be their leader,” Andrum said as he summoned his book.
The coyote transformed from animal to humanoid form, revealing himself to be a Tilturian.
“You are trespassing on sacred ground,” he said as his attack coyotes remained ever vicious.
“Must every animal secretly be a Tilturian?” Andrum asked himself.
“Leave here at once or you and your people will be devoured.”
My people? So they must know about our camp… Andrum thought. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who negotiates do you?” he said with a sigh.
“Exactly correct,” the Tilturian said as he drew his sword.
“I’m tired of running from battles,” Andrum said before thinking of his next moves. Within moments his eyes lit blue and his book slammed shut before he could use it.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Andrum said in a much deeper tone of voice as his eyes shined bright. He could feel an immense surge of power from within him.
The battle had begun. Benry leapt into the air and took on two coyotes at once before they teamed up against him. Andrum defended the leader’s sword attacks with simple deflections with his hands. After dodging back and forth, he stuck out two fingers and jammed them into the Tilturians’ chest, knocking him back. Andrum had no idea how he was doing any of this, he was just reacting. It was as if he was now on auto pilot, and Xurion had taken over.
“Leave now and I will spare your souls,” Xurion said through Andrum’s voice.
The coyote leader motioned to his pack and one by one they jumped at Andrum, biting his arms and legs as he fought their leader in combat. After being on the defensive for quite some time, Andrum had had enough. He shouted and a released a massive blueish aura that surrounded him. The coyotes continued their attack, but by now it was useless. None of them could penetrate the barrier, and it was now Andrum’s turn to strike. As one coyote leapt up, he swatted it down, and began to come forward. One by one he knocked the coyotes to the ground as they tried to attack. Eventually he only had one opponent remaining. Andrum was impressed with what he could do, but he could also feel his energy slowly draining. The longer the battle went on, the more control Andrum had over his own body. It was as if Xurion’s battle prowess was rubbing off on him.
As his pack now laid before him, knocked out or too wounded to move, the leader still decided to stay and fight. Transforming back into his animal form, he snapped at Andrum as the force field overtook him. He pushed as hard as he could, resisting the blue aura and eventually coming close enough to Andrum to land an attack. He bit at Andrum’s arm, holding on tightly and causing significant damage before Andrum shook him off. Again he tried, but this time was different. Andrum strengthened his aura as the coyote approached. Just before he was able to bite again, Andrum raised his barrier to new heights, sending shockwaves of heat slashing through his opponent. The blow not only knocked the beast back, but as he flew through the air transforming back, magik burned through him. His skin boiled momentarily from the mighty blow, but still the leader began to get up once more.
Wounded and beaten, he struggled to speak as he held his burns, “You… you win. Now finish me! I only ask that you spare my brothers.”
Andrum lowered the bluish force field around him, and collapsed to his knees in exhaustion. “Leave! Now…” he said as the last of the magik left his eyes. He had been completely drained from the battle, and it was clear to Andrum that Xurion’s powers were going to take some getting used to.
The Tilturian leader turned to his comrades and motioned as some of them whimpered off. Among the wounded was Benry, who turned and ran away with his tail between his legs as the coyotes left. Andrum, looked up as if to call the dog but found that he was too exhausted to do so.
It wasn’t long after Benry left that Uriella and Yuralia found Andrum. He was too tired to move nor speak, but heard them talk about their encounters with the coyotes as they carried him back to camp.
Chapter 14
Nearly one hundred years have passed since Andrum and company set out on their journey, and much has changed in the kingdom of Ulteria. Styir, now interim Head of the Magniffs, has had to make several hard decisions while the others have been away. Although he was already used to this while Andrum was Head, he was no longer working behind the scenes and had to take full responsibility when something went wrong. Styir had implemented a rations system within the kingdom, where each family only got allotted so much food and water each day. Because only a few hundred Nifflarians still possessed their conjuring gift compared to the thousands upon thousands in population, Styir had to manage and plan accordingly. Most conjurers were sent to battle in order to protect Ulteria from the invading Tilturians, where a few were left behind to conjure food and supplies. Food and shelter were some of the only things that conjurers could create that others besides the creator could use, and Styir used this to his advantage. He had devised a plan so that as long as his troops on the front lines weren’t completely starving, they could hold out against the overwhelming Tilturian army.
Styir had changed a few rules while Andrum was gone. One of the first being in regards to the Nifflarian Exams. Previously, young Nifflarian conjurers would showcase their magik skill in front of a panel of elders who then judged them on whether or not they possessed adequate knowledge about the magik of conjuring. If they passed, then the Nifflarians were officially recognized as adults and would be allowed to conjure a home for themselves within the city as well as start a family with another Nifflarian adult of the opposite sex. Because so few young Nifflarians were able to conjure, Styir himself judged the Nifflarian Exams and passed every single Nifflarian who displayed even basic magik knowledge. Instead of being rewarded with the opportunity to settle down and potentially start a family, the Nifflarians who passed the exams were forced to join the military and were sent to protect against the Tilturians. The few who did not pass but still possessed their magik abilities, were instead rewarded with the duties of preparing food and other supplies. Had Andrum taken the Nifflarian Exam during this time instead of when his father was in charge, he would most likely have been assigned to the latter.
As yet another day without the return of Andrum and company came to an end, Styir was found tending to the castles garden when a man approached him.
“You know we have multiple gardeners that do that already sir,” he said.
“I know. But I do enjoy the tranquility that it gives me after a hard day’s work,” Styir said as he picked a rose pedal. “What news have you got for me today?”
“It seems as though the Tilturians are ready to negotiate.”
“Excellent, then the war may finally come to an end,” Styir said before breathing in the soothing sensations of the flower.
“They want to meet tomorrow just before sundown at Rezhul’s Memorial,” the man said as he handed Styir a letter.
“A fitting place to call a truce,” he said as he opened the official Tilturian letter. “Prepare an armed escort service of the best conjurers we have at our disposal. We need not show them how weak our numbers are.”
“Yes Head, sir.” the man said as he saluted and walked off.
Styir left the garden and entered Castle Xurion. He headed up the stairs of the castle and into his room where he sat at his desk and read the letter before burning it. He then enjoyed himself a nice hot cup of tea and then went to bed early after planning all the possible scenarios out he could for his scheduled meeting with the Tilturians.
He woke up at the crack of dawn. After dressing in his royal garbs and dabbing on a hint of cologne, he was ready for the day. He had always been the eccentric type, and the title of interim Head of the Magniffs gave him the opportunity to showcase it with his fancy clothes. Styir travelled down the stairs and exited the castle doors to a royal welcome of guards that were stationed outside. One by one their swords crossed each other as Styir walked passed them. A horse and carriage was waiting for Styir
at the end. Although he was used to this treatment by now, Styir thanked the guards nonetheless before he sat in the carriage and set out past the city of Ulteria. It was a short ride to Rezhul’s Memorial and most of the spellbinders rode on up ahead to secure the area. Styir always arrived fashionably early to every meeting, and this one was no exception. As he stepped out from his transportation, he was greeted by the same man who brought him the letter the day before.
“Our scouts report that the Tilturian leaders are about a half hour away,” he said as he saluted the Head.
“Very good, Ronem is it?” Styir said as he bowed.
“Yes sir.”
“Are our men in place?”
“Of course sir.”
“Then take a load off and relax,” he said as he motioned for the carriage to return to Ulteria.
“Shouldn’t we always be on guard?” Ronem asked.
“Well of course, which is why we have our troops around. You and me however, can sit down and enjoy a cup of tea before they arrive.”
“Umm… uhh, right then,” Ronem said before summoning his book and jotting things down. Almost instantly a small table for two appeared with a kettle of hot tea on top.
Styir took a seat and poured the two of them a cup of tea before admiring the great statue of Rezhul that stood before them. “He really was a great man.”
“Do you ever think his great grandson will return to us?” Ronen said as he sat down as well.
“Of course, when the time is right,” Styir said as he sipped his tea.
“How can you be so sure? Sir Ashurd has been gone for nearly a century.”
“Trust me Ronem, some things you just know.”
After finishing their second round of tea, a small platoon of Tilturian soldiers headed by a balding old man marched into the memorial’s grounds. As they approached, Styir remained ever calm, eventually standing in respect as the old man approached. Both of the man’s eyes were a deathly gray and he stood only up to Styir’s shoulders with a patchy coyote pelt draped around him. He walked with a limp and greeted the Head with a simple handshake as his troops looked on in perfect formation.
“You must be Styir, the leader of the Nifflarian people,” the man said.
“Yes, and you must be Guldar,” Styir said.
“Guldar the Experienced, general of the northern armies,” he said.
“Right then, of course. Please excuse my misinformation,” Styir said while smiling.
“If you didn’t know, then you should’ve kept your mouth shut,” Guldar said before motioning to his men to bring out a chair.
“Wise words from a wise man. Please, I already have this table set up for us,” Styir said as he gestured for him to sit down.
“Bah! Inferior conjured items, I prefer the real thing,” he said as a soldier brought up a chair and he sat down in the middle of the walkway.
Guldar’s nit picking was beginning to irk Styir a bit, but still he remained calm. “I don’t suppose Ronem here can offer you any tea?” Styir said as he pulled one of the chairs from the table and sat down across from Guldar.
“No…” Guldar said before pausing. “Let’s talk business terms.”
“Alright then, so here’s what I propose—“
“We are ready for your surrender,” Guldar interrupted.
“Surrender? Why would we do that? We are here to discuss a peace treaty,” Styir said as he snapped his fingers at Ronem. “Now I have something all made up already, all you have to do is—“
“Your surrender. At once,” Guldar said as he in turn snapped his fingers and his soldiers chanted, drawing their swords. His second in command quickly broke formation and charged Ronem, grabbing him and putting his sword against his throat.
“Woah there, no need to get feisty,” Styir said before Guldar started to nod at his soldier. “…Right then, our surrender.”
“Don’t even think about calling your conjurers to help, they are a bit… preoccupied at the moment,” Guldar said. He slowly stood up and walked over to the table near where Ronem was being held captive and grabbed the tea kettle, lifted it up with one hand and then chugged the rest of the tea as steam radiated from his breath. “Not bad, I’d say. Not bad at all.”
Having lost the upper hand, Styir stood as well, trying to remain calm and smiling at Ronem before lifting his chair and throwing it at the Tilturians’ 2nd in command. Ronem ducked at the last second as the chair struck the soldier across the face. Turning with a surprised look on his face, Guldar shouted and pointed at Styir as both of the Nifflarians took off running.
Styir and Ronem ran as fast as they could as the army marched after them. With a safe distance between them, Ronem turned to Styir and said, “Continue on to Ulteria and don’t look back. I’ll hold them off for as long as I can sir.”
“I’m the one who gives the orders around here,” Styir said as Ronem faced the Tilturians.
“You won’t for much longer if they catch you. We’ve already lost the battle today, but we cannot afford to lose the war,” Ronem said before his eyes turned blue and he summoned his conjuring book. Guldar remained in the distance, nonchalantly walking with his arms behind his back as the Tilturian soldiers approached Ronem who was writing in his book. A few of the soldiers let out a cry as they transformed into beasts and it was at this moment that Styir turned and ran.
He didn’t run out of cowardice or even because Ronem told him to, but ran instead because he knew it was the right thing to do. Despite being a master tactician, his scarce numbers and the overall brute force of the Tiltur people is what cost Styir the victory.
After running nonstop for nearly an hour, Styir finally approached the city limits. “This day can’t get any worse,” he said as he took a moment to catch his breath.
Not a minute later though, it did. Styir noticed smoke coming from just inside the city gates. He rushed to where the action was as the guards let him in.
“What’s going on?” he said as he looked on in horror.
“We don’t know. This fire started out of nowhere, and we don’t have any available conjurers to put it out,” a guard told him.
“Is everybody out at least?” Styir asked as the school building continued to burn.
“We think so, but there is still a dog trapped inside.”
Without hesitation, Styir ripped his elegant shirt off and ran in to the blazing fire just as the building was about to collapse. “Nobody else dies today,” he said as the smoke choked him up. He heard a whimpering bark come from just inside one of the rooms. Using his shirt as protection, he gripped the door handle and jarred it open. A dog covered in filth and debris was pinned in between two desks crying for help. Styir pushed through and eventually reached the dog, lifting the desks that had trapped him and freeing the animal. Coughing uncontrollably, he put his shirt against his mouth as a filter and the dog scurried off. He nearly fainted on his way back through the school until finally reaching the entrance just before the structure started to crumble.
Guards rushed over and carried him to safety as one of the few remaining conjurers arrived to help put out the fire. After they sat him down on a nearby bench, children cheered and the dog he had saved limped over to him wagging its tail. “Give me some room,” Styir said as he coughed once more. The golden retriever jumped half way onto his lap and began licking his face in gratitude. “At least I did something right today.”
After the conjurer summoned enough water to put the fire out, the crowd slowly dispersed and only a few guards remained nearby as well as the dog. “What is your name anyway?” Styir asked as he touched the golden retriever’s burnt collar. “Benry,” he read before patting the dog on the head.
“Well, we are all but doomed but at least I found a new man’s best friend,” he said as he stood up from the bench and headed towards the castle. “Let’s go Benry.”
Chapter 15
Gallagher and his friends set out on their first journey together after sneaking out of the village
. Gallagher didn’t know much about what to expect, but knew that exploring was going to be fun. According to Moldur, Stonewall Point was only about a day’s walk from the village, but because everyone packed far too much for the trip it was going to take a little longer. Gallagher used up a lot of his strength carrying around Valdar’s sword, and Moldur quickly grew hungry after only a few hours. Since they left so late, they decided it was a good idea to make camp before sunrise. The roads they travelled had been abandoned since the resolve of the Nifflarian-Tilturian war, and therefore hadn’t been very well maintained. They found a mountain range not far from their destination and figured it best to stop. It was easy for them to scavenge up wood from broken down carriages as well as find scraps of food that were left by previous travelers. After setting up the bivouac, Gallagher and Moldur cooked some road kill as the others fell asleep.
“What do you think we’ll find tomorrow?” Gallagher asked.
“I’m not really sure. I don’t member much about it other than where my dad’s house is,” Moldur said as he twirled his stick over the fire.
“What if there’s more guys who blow up like in the village?”
“Then my dad will save us of course!”
“Oh yeah… I hope we get to see a battle,” Gallagher said as he bit into his poorly cooked roadkill.
“There hasn’t been a battle at Stonewall Point in over a decade,”
“Then why do ya think that man came so gravely wounded?” Gallagher asked.
“I don’t know man, just shut up and eat your food,” Moldur said as he scarfed down the last of his meal, causing Piggles to snort in disappointment.
It wasn’t long after they finished eating that they both fell asleep. Gallagher took a little longer than usual though due to his anxious nature, but he knew that he would have all of his questions answered soon enough… well most of them anyway.
Omna was the first to wake up, so she took it upon herself to repack everyone’s things and prepare for the adventure that was to come. Babah and Valden were the next to rise, and they stretched out and went for a walk, exploring a little more around the encampment. By the time they got back, everybody was pretty much packed up and ready to go.
