The Azure Wizard

by Nicholas Trandahl

  “Great,” Ethan stated as he rolled his eyes, “I can’t wait.”

  “After Breckyn’s Call, then, we will encounter only one more settlement before Greenwell City. A little more than halfway there we will come across a small, sylvan village called Deephollow. There we will stay the night and maybe make a handful of silvers.”

  “Well, you’re the boss, Scarlet,” Ethan declared with a shrug and a relaxed smile.

  “Hey, this isn’t for my benefit. This is to make sure you stand a chance of joining those Foresters. Let’s have a little more enthusiasm, my dear storyteller,” she chuckled as she reached back and patted Ethan’s thigh. That simple touch sent warmth and energy through Ethan, and he had the urge to kiss the minstrel. Each day he grew more and more enchanted with her presence, with her accent, with her lifestyle and her figure.

  “Scarlet,” he whispered close to her ear.

  “Yes, Ethan?” she replied as she half-turned in the saddle so she could look at her companion with one eye. Ethan met her there with a firm passionate kiss.

  The instant their lips touched Ethan was sure he was going to get throttled by this hardened adventurer, but he was shocked and overjoyed when she closed her vivid crimson eyes and returned the kiss with even more passion and fervor. Lost in the moment, she scooted back in the saddle so that she sat hard in between his legs, and Ethan answered by reaching around her and unbuckling her belt with one hand. Meanwhile his other hand wandered under her black loose linen shirt and cupped one of her breasts. A slight shudder escaped her lips and then a quiet moan when Ethan slid his other hand down the front of her loosened gray trousers.

  As quickly as it started it up Scarlet ended it. She pulled her mouth back from Ethan’s, her exotic eyes opening and shrouding him in a measured crimson stare of seething anger, anger for Ethan or the moment, he did not know. She slid forward in the saddle breaking all contact of their lower torsos, and she swiftly yanked Ethan’s hand from her loins as he hurriedly pulled the other from under her shirt.

  The horse continued to walk down the forested dirt road as Scarlet buckled her belt in silence, the only sound the thuds of the steed’s hooves and the labored breathing of its two riders. “Alright?” Ethan wondered aloud to himself, dragging out the word in confusion.

  “You took advantage of the moment, Ethan. You acted rashly and without a thought.”

  “So?” he replied.

  “If you are a Forester, acting like that will get you killed. You must always think situations and encounters through and gauge the risks versus the-”

  “Why in the Soul Wastes is everything always a test with you, Scarlet?” he shouted, interrupting her.

  He continued when she didn’t immediately answer, “You never answer any of my questions, and you’re always remarking on what I need to do and how I need to do it! Why in the Ancestors don’t you ever act on your impulses? It would probably do you some good! It might get that chip off your shoulder! I don’t know what your life was before this and I don’t know what happened that was so horrible, but maybe if you came out with it to somebody you would end up feeling a little better!”

  Scarlet didn’t answer, and with a huff Ethan leaned back in the saddle and gazed out into the trees. They rode on in silence.

  Not a word passed between the two for the entirety of the day and at nightfall they circumvented the high noble walls of the town that Scarlet had previously identified as Breckyn’s Call and they set up camp. In the morning just after sunrise they turned from the Three Baronies Road and rode southward, entering the shadows of the unfathomable majesty of the Forests of Greenwell, and Ethan wondered if they would ever be coming back out.

  Chapter Six

  A Monster in Deephollow

  Five days later the storyteller and the minstrel rode into the village of Deephollow. The village was a very small settlement, composed of only about a score of buildings, arranged in a circle around a stone well peppered in moss. They were all residences of the inhabitants of the village, but also a small inn, two-stories tall with a thatched roof, sat in the center of the village near the well. Trees had not been cleared with the construction of the village, but instead the settlement had been built around their trunks. To a casual eye it seemed as if Deephollow had been grown from the Forests of Greenwell along with the trees, appearing as some sort of overgrown toadstool ring of the deep woods.

  As Scarlet and Ethan rode into the village through a plush high stand of ferns on the north side of the village they noticed the majority of the settlement’s inhabitants tending orchards and gardens on the outskirts of the village while others toiled with their chores in the village interior. Shade and cool woodland air enveloped the landscape around Deephollow despite another hot summer afternoon. A busy road ran through Deephollow, the East Road, and the village’s residents were used to visitors and travelers. The East Road ran from the port-town of Runette on the Barony of Greenwell’s eastern shore, crossed the Three Baronies Road at the city of Wellgreet north of Greenwell City, before finally coming to an end at an important mining city called Stone’s Shore where rare rocks and much of the land’s gold and other ores were unearthed from the foothills of the Greenwellian Highlands that laid in the western portion of the wooded barony. Most of the Three Baronies’ silver ore was known to come from the scattered mining outposts dotted throughout the Vhar Mountains. Thus the people of Deephollow sent the companions a fair share of peculiar stares when they rode in from the deep vast woods north of the village and not upon the East Road.

  It had been a very tense journey since departing the Three Baronies Road for the wilds five days ago. The companions, of course, rarely spoke to one another, and in fact Scarlet neither sang nor tried to give Ethan any Forester advice the entire time. Danger and excitement had also come to them in the depths of ancient forest in the course of their travels, and it was in the form of a pack of Deep Wolves, enormous dark-furred fierce wolves that roamed the deepest regions of the Forests of Greenwell. They had escaped the predators through the skill and agility of their mount, unnamed by its master, and had lost the wolves in the wood. Ethan had never been so frightened in all of his life. Ethan was also quite curious, though, about the lack of name possessed by his Wendlithian companion’s mount. He had come to learn during his studies of the various cultures in the Three Baronies that Wendlithians loved their horses such as they would love a brother or sister, and often they had elaborate beautiful names. Ethan just figured that her lack of attachment to her steed was born from her desire to sever ties for one reason or another with her homeland.

  Ethan considered himself to be very fortunate and very lucky to have escaped harm from wild animals in his solitary travels to the Barony of Greenwell through the perilous wilderness of the Barony of Vhar. Though wolves and bears roamed all of the Three Baronies’ wilds from the Vhar Mountains to the shores of Wendlith each barony was known to have a couple odd cunning beasts, different from more natural varieties of animals, suited to its environment.

  The Barony of Greenwell was the territory of the Deep Wolves, massive black-furred wolves that grew to be the size of a small horse, and the Barony of Wendlith was the barony of the Sun Cats, great cats similar in appearance to the Ice Cats of the Ice Wilds but for their golden yellow-brown hue. The Barony of Vhar was home to the dreaded Blood Bears, immense territorial bears about twice the size of the Three Baronies’ common bears.

  They possessed a shaggy coat of crimson-colored fur that enabled them to withstand the frigid peaks in which they dwelt and also enabled them to better attract mates for they also had very keen sight and scent and could thus locate a suitable mate due to their bright red coats. Another feature of the Blood Bear was their tusks, identical to wild boar’s, that jutted upward from their bottom jaw. All in all they were a terrible animal to encounter out in the wild, and it was a wonder Ethan hadn’t encountered them or any other dangerous wildlife for that matter during his journey. In fact he had never seen a living Blood Bear.
The closest he had ever come to sighting one of these horrible beasts came when he was about twelve summers and one of the villagers in North Ridge had returned from a hunting expedition with the pelt of one with the head still attached. It was awe-inspiring for the young storyteller. Ethan couldn’t imagine his late grandmother, Ethyl, slaying one alone single-handedly with naught but her Foresters hand axe, but she had mentioned as much the last night Ethan had spoken with her.

  They rode up to the inn, and Ethan noticed the moss-speckled, wooden sign that was nailed above the entry that stated, Deephollow Inn. Very original, he thought sarcastically to himself. They dismounted and Scarlet tethered her horse to one of the wooden pillars that supported the inn’s sagging thatched awning that overhung the doorway. Upon entering the building they found a small taproom with a few tables and chairs of weathered graying wood and a very small bar. There were only a couple of grizzled, old patrons that knew nothing but mead in their later years, a middle-aged, chubby scullery maid, and a similar innkeeper that was also a woman, likely twins.

  When the companions entered, and their eyes adjusted to the dim light within that filtered into the room through the moss-shrouded windows, they beheld the folks in the bar staring at them with unmoving visages. It seemed to the two wanderers that the reclusive locals appeared to be gauging them and taking their measure. It wasn’t a feeling Ethan was very used to, and thus he was, of course, plagued with anxiety. If it wasn’t for Scarlet’s unwavering stoic presence at his side he likely would of turned around and left in a hurry. “We are foreign performers that wish no harm and wish only to enjoy some food, beds, and maybe entertain you a little,” Scarlet stated in a loud voice, naturally with a thick Wendlithian accent.

  The small crowd didn’t immediately reply but after an awkward and tense moment the woman behind the counter said, “Aye. Sounds well enough to me as long as you got the coins, lass.”

  Scarlet turned to Ethan and whispered, “Use your remaining silvers to get us food and a room. You can make it back later by telling one of your tales.”

  Ethan looked doubtful and replied, “No offense, Scarlet, but once I crossed the border into Greenwell I vowed to never tell stories for coins. I won’t allow the legacy of my people to become a novelty act for others. A troubadour may be your calling, but by the Ancestors it is not mine. Besides my remaining five silvers are just enough for one meal and one room, are they not?”

  “Maybe in a larger trading-town like the ones scattered down the Three Baronies Road, that would be enough to suit one person, but here in these rural villages five silvers should be enough for the two of us with enough for a tip for the innkeeper. You’re from a village aren’t you? Aren’t you familiar with the cost of inn lodging in your village?”

  “North Ridge wasn’t blessed with an inn. The only business we had was a blacksmith,” answered Ethan in a very matter-of-fact tone as he fished out his remaining coins and began walking towards the counter. All eyes in the inn followed him. Scarlet shrugged with a cool smirk and walked to a small table in a small alcove with a window.

  He reached the counter, old wood lined with half-empty bottles of various spirits and colors, and nodded with a smile at the innkeeper. “Here are your silvers, milady. We need two rooms and supper for the two of us,” he stated as he laid the coins on the counter in front of her.

  As she scooped them up, placing them one at a time into a stitched-on pocket on the front of her stained apron, she replied, “Aye. That’ll be only four coins, lad. Ye gave me one too many.”

  “That is your tip, milady, for your generosity.”

  She flashed a kind smile at Ethan and said, “We’re cooking up newly caught boar steaks and fresh carrots and potatoes, and with your meals you get a mug of either honey mead or our local specialty, strawberry-cinnamon mead.”

  “Excellent. We'll both have your strawberry-cinnamon mead then, my kind lady.”

  Ethan strode over to the table that Scarlet had chosen in the windowed-alcove while the innkeeper returned to her supper preparations. When he walked past the two old fellows Ethan gave them a slight nod of respect that was returned in kind. When he sat down across from Scarlet, who, of course, had her back to the window so she could face the taproom, she asked, “So what’s for supper, mother?”

  Ethan smirked and answered in a poor interpretation of his grandmother’s voice, “Nice roasted boar steaks, fresh veggies, and strawberry-cinnamon mead. So don’t spoil your appetite, and don’t forget to wash your hands before supper, my dearest Scarlet.”

  They both shared a laugh, the first in a while, and Ethan felt the tension between them dissipate signaling a return to normality.

  Later that evening after they enjoyed their warm hearty meal, Ethan having stuffed himself for Scarlet had given him her vegetables in addition to his own boar steak and vegetables, Scarlet began singing. Numerous residents of Deephollow arrived around nightfall, some because they wanted to see the travelers that had rode in out of the woods. And it was needless to say that the din of the small packed taproom became as quiet as a church of the Ancestors when her enchanting Wendlithian-accented voice became audible.

  There was a time in our land

  Before darkness was known

  All dwelt in boundless wilds

  That stretched even o’er the sea

  Peace and innocence reigned and all men were free

  In this myth, or was it not a dream,

  Was a maiden, the fairest of all

  All of her time was spent in the green environs

  That her kin called home

  But she was alone

  One day in a fresh young copse

  This maiden strolled and wandered

  She then grew tired and lay down her weary head

  In but a moment she was asleep

  Asleep in dreams very deep

  As she rested this way a young woodsman

  Ventured to her side

  Nothing in his years of sojourn had been as perfect

  As the maiden’s pristine face

  Thus the woodsman took her as she slept to his sylvan place

  When she awoke she was afraid and angered

  At the woodsman she did rage

  Eventually he calmed her with soothing words

  He explained he meant her no harm of any kind

  That she was the fairest treasure in all the land that one could find

  The maiden did not flee

  And over time love for him she felt

  Together they enjoyed life and joy and love

  Yet her kinsmen had not forgotten her

  And their searching led them to the maiden and her roguish sir

  At the heads of spears and swords

  The woodsman was held

  All the while the maiden

  Urged them his innocence of any blame

  Her kin ignored her pleas and he was slain

  In her misery she turned words against them

  Her aqua eyes aglow

  Dreadful enchantments she did shed

  A dying kin threw a spear

  That found its way into a heart so dear

  Thus it was that our land of the Three Baronies

  In the virginity of the Ancient Age

  Knew violence and woe

  Where once only peace and glory was grown

  New seeds of a darker sort then were sown

  Upon finishing her lament to the innocence lost in the pre-Three Baronies’ mythic early years Scarlet stood, head hanging low in the center of the taproom. Enraptured by the glorious tragic song, among the best the Deephollow Inn had heard in a thick number of seasons, the audience was slow in its applause, but when it did arrive it was an eruption of cheers and claps that roared out into the surrounding village. Scarlet made her slow meandering way back to table, accepting offerings of coins from the astounded crowd of patrons en route.

  When she finally sat down across from Ethan and her fans began to disperse back to their tables and co
nversations Ethan, also awed by the performance, stammered, “Scarlet, that was amazing.”

  She shrugged with a smirk and took a pull from a full bottle of Summer Lily wine that had been gifted to her by one of the patrons. Ethan marveled at her beauty.

  It was nearly midnight when Ethan and Scarlet retired to their own separate moderate-sized rooms located across the hall from one another. And it was sometime in the early pre-dawn morning when Ethan awoke in his bed. But he wasn’t alone.

  He lay in the center of his bed on his back and Scarlet straddled his hips, leaning forward over him with her crimson eyes gazing unblinkingly into his own startled amber orbs. She was completely nude, her dark smooth skin reflecting just a little of the soft blue moonlight that came into the room through the room’s small window, and her pale blond hair hung loose down her back and shoulders.

  “Uh, Scarlet, what are you doing?” whispered Ethan as he tried to lift his head a little off of the pillow. That’s when he noticed Scarlet’s short sword blade lay dangerously across his throat. He looked to the side to see her curved short sword with the ruby in the pommel gripped firmly in her left hand and the blade resting horizontally crossed his neck. “What in the Soul Wastes do you think you’re doing? Believe me, you don’t need to force me or anything,” he laughed nervously.

  She didn’t say anything or move in the slightest, not even blinking. “Okay,” Ethan whispered to himself in confused tones and he attempted to slide out from under Scarlet.

  In an instant she pressed the razor edge of her sword harder against his throat and her vivid crimson eyes grew wider on her expressionless face.