The Winds of Crowns and Wolves

by K. E. Walter

  The boy and his horse had been travelling for a period that could not have been longer than twenty minutes when a sudden chill overtook the area of the path which they found themselves on. Rine reared to a halt as they reached a clearing about halfway up the mountain.

  It looked as if someone had cut the top of this peak of the mountain off and sanded it down, treating it as though it were a sword to a whetstone. Its flat surface was so well leveled that a bashful individual may have been able to see his own reflection in the glasslike rock.

  A gust of wind blew in from the south as Neach and Rine both seemed to shiver from the vigor of the travelling air. Silent and still in the clearing on the hill, Neach dismounted Rine, as he thought that this would prove a good place to cease the journey for the time being.

  Almost immediately after he left the saddle atop Rine’s back, a new burst of cold air hit him directly in the face, causing him to lurch backward toward the rock wall behind him. His eyes had closed momentarily, and when he opened them, what was now in front of him struck fear into the darkest chasms of his soul.

  Standing in front of himself and his horse was a beast unlike anything he had ever seen before.

  With eyes a piercing green, more vibrant than the fields below him, and teeth that resembled sharpened jewels glistening in the midday sunlight, this beast resembled a human, if not only in its facial structure.

  All elements of humanity had disappeared from its flesh as in its place there stood a myriad of differently shaped and lengthened pieces of ice. It was as if a stalactite had been reified into being by a demented witchdoctor, only for that very witchdoctor to lose control of its creation and have it end up on this very mountain.

  Frozen both literally and figuratively by fear, Neach breathed heavily, and as it came out, it crystallized into a cloud in front of his mouth. Incapacitated and unsure of what his next move should be, he remembered the book which had helped him mount the horse earlier.

  His first reaction was to attempt to make a connection with it as he had earlier, purely through his brain. Unfortunately, he was in such shock from the events unfolding before him that he was unable to muster the focus or energy to mechanize the book’s powers in his favor.

  In the secluded world of Spleuchan Sonse, things were organized and well intentioned. Deviance from the normalized culture was not prevalent and your day to day life from birth until demise would be set forth by your elders. In this new world Neach found himself in, a new motif would materialize before his very eyes: spontaneity.

  To think on your feet is to remove all cost benefit analyses from the equation. A clearing of the mind and a resolute attempt to allow your body to reach equilibrium before hurling it waist deep into the dark abyss of water below. The mind is most at peace before the most decisive of actions.

  And so, as Neach took his next few steps, any reservations about what may have happened were thrown over the edge of the cliff, as he assumed his body would follow suit in the near future.

  A side-step to his right saw him narrowly avoid a flying shot of ice directed with one intention: to kill. Rine had run himself behind a rock covering at this point and Neach was all but completely exposed to the beast in front of him.

  In its anger, and with a fervent swing, the icy beast rushed forward and attempted to impale Neach on his left arm. Any ounce of humanity which may have been left in this abomination of a creature was surely gone at this point, and the unlawful nature of a beast had taken its place completely.

  With a swing and a thrust of its arm, it glanced Neach’s right shoulder as he bounded leftward in an attempt to avoid the impending destruction. Having narrowly avoided two attacks from the beast, Neach now lay on the rock floor with blood seeping through his top. A small cut had been opened up on his right shoulder and the crimson color of the blood was now becoming apparent through the fabric that lay atop it.

  His movement leftward had placed him closer to his knapsack than he had initially known. It was within arm’s reach and he did what he believed was his only option at this point in time. With the icy beast closing in on him, Neach removed the Toriik Riamendi from his ragged knapsack and attempted to read the first few lines that were present in the beginning of its bowels.

  “Rusteh firgilli dur Ergawah,” he began.

  Suddenly, the beast stopped in its current location.

  Bewildered at both his ability to read the words on the page and the reaction that the beast exhibited in return, Neach continued to espouse the remaining words on the first entrance in the text.

  “Guud polliwus dur Bewwin Wimlo,” he continued, “arg newa dur Civve Ghul.”

  As he concluded his diatribe directed toward the icy beast, now retracting its footsteps and moving further away from Neach as he lay on the ground, he realized the power that was held within the words that he now harnessed the ability to read. It appeared as if even the first entrance in the Toriik Riamendi was an incantation of sorts, but what did it mean?

  Before that question could be answered, Neach saw the color disappear from the beast’s eyes.

  What were once tangible emeralds, sat far back in the sockets of this icy beast, now sat as uncut onyx. A mere shell of the potency they once exhibited, its irises were rendered nearly nonexistent. As the color drained, the ice began to melt from its skin.

  In a calamity of both terror and joy, Neach watched as the icy beast was reduced to a heap of sand atop that plateau, whisked away swiftly by the careening winds that traveled across the face of the mountain.

  It took quite some time for Neach’s heart to cease palpitating. By this time, he had slid himself up against the rock wall which Rine was shuddering behind. He sat up and began to construct a viable explanation for what had just occurred over the last few minutes.

  A beast, the likes of which he had never seen, attempted to kill him as he scaled the side of this mountain. Unsure of the implications this held, Neach could do nothing but pant for air as he and his horse rested for a few moments.

  The majority of Neach’s energy had been sapped from his body after the encounter. The reading of the passage from the beginning of the sacred text that Daniel had given him seemed to have removed every ounce of motivation he had contained within his own frail body over the past week.

  Unfortunately, the journey had to continue. Neach had planned on reaching the other side of the mountain that day and hoped that he could reassess his situation once this destination was reached. The sun was still high in the sky, though it had started its descent downward. He figured that he had at least another seven hours of sunlight before travel would be rendered impossible.

  And so, after the draining encounter, Neach mounted his horse and set off at a slow trot up the path toward the peak of the mountain.

  The chill which had plagued the two weary travelers was now nonexistent. Heat returned to Neach’s body, and so too did his energy. After just a few minutes on the path, Neach felt that he was nearly back to full strength. This added to the complex and confusing nature of what had occurred only minutes before.

  Instead of attempting to comprehend the larger nature of the events that had transpired, Neach focused his energy on the journey and the ultimate destination.

  His thoughts wandered to possible aesthetic qualities of the island he would, hopefully, find himself on, not too far in the future. Never exposed to the idea of islands or even anything further north than his own village until just a short while earlier, Neach could not help but conjure unrealistic fabrications of what this mysterious world might contain.

  As they ascended the face of the mountain, the temperature once again lowered. It was evident from their vantage point that snow still remained at its crest. It ran like a rigid stone spine, down the land, dividing it into two separate entities that seemed to be doomed to ever interact with one another. For Neach, making it over this mountain was essential. For even in his exhaustion, his journey was not yet over.

  The final push towards the top of
the mountain saw the sparse brown grass disappear and be consumed by the snow that was visible from down below. Shivering as he and Rine continued upward, Neach clenched his teeth and prepared to climb the final few feet to the peak.

  As the two came over the wrinkle of the stone edifice, what lay before them was a magnificent sight. Through the passage at the top of the mountain, Neach could see the land below and an expanse of water.

  Fields of purple and gold littered the land below the mountain in a natural collage of floral benevolence. No settlements could be seen from this view atop the rocky ridge, but it seemed that almost as soon as the fields started, they ended. From what Neach could guess, the shoreline began only about a mile from the base of the mountain. Equally as rocky and lacking the sand he expected to see along the water, the beach appeared daunting in the late afternoon sunlight.

  Neach returned to reality and began plotting his path downward. In front of him was a passageway through the top of the mountain which he hoped would lead downward as well. In order to save time, as the sun was fast setting, Neach mounted Rine and cautiously proceeded forward through the snaking path.

  The path down the mountain was sheer, not winding as it had been coming up. Nevertheless, with reigns in hand, Neach urged Rine forward slowly, toward the basin of violets and daffodils below. With an overt sense of apprehension, the boy and his horse stuttered down the path in a jagged motion. Though not adroit at the art of equine navigation, Neach had managed to take the pair this far at the expense of merely a few scrapes and unwanted heart palpitations. He could taste the salt air on his tongue as he careened down the face of the mountain toward his ultimate destination.

  Before too much time had passed, the two had broken into a full sprint as they travelled through the beautiful flower beds that littered the ground around them with a passionate mixture of purple and gold hues. The sun was now lower but its heat still gave Neach life. He smiled and threw his hands off the reigns as Rine carried him toward the shoreline. In that moment, Neach was without burden. The weight which had been crushing his every fiber for the hours and days prior had seemingly evaporated. Unencumbered by the previous expectation, he felt the wind blow through his hair, he smelled the newly blossoming flowers as they provided and aroma to the impending spring season. Bliss would have been too dull a word to describe the utter euphoria which he was experiencing.

  Minutes passed before Neach was brought to his senses by a change in the texture of the ground beneath Rine’s feet. A transition from grass to rock let Neach know that they had reached the shoreline and the water was not far. With a firm grasp of the reign and a pull backward, Rine came to a halt about thirty feet from the water’s edge.

  Neach scanned the horizon and saw what appeared to be a small island only a few hundred feet from shore. In his eagerness it is quite possible this distance was indeed underestimated, but his desire and curiosity rendered the factual determination of distance unnecessary. Neach urged Rine into a swift trot up the shore as he contemplated his options of how it was that he would reach the piece of land floating in the water.

  About a half mile from where Neach had initially reached the shore there laid a small wooden boat. As he approached the watercraft from afar, Neach couldn’t believe his luck in finding a vessel to assist him in his journey to the island in the distance. He dismounted Rine and surveyed the boat for its provisions. Inside of the boat there was a large paddle, a bench seat, and nothing more. If he was going to venture to the island, he would have to do it in a difficult manner and alone.

  Thinking on his feet as quickly as he could, Neach noticed a tree in the center of the field of violets behind him. At once, he led Rine to the tree and tied him up by his reigns. So as not to be cruel to the majestic creature, Neach unpack the food which he had from his knapsack and laid it in front of him. He hoped that it would be enough to allow him time to reach the island and return.

  With a firm pat on his rear, Neach left Rine to fend for himself for as long would be necessary. There was a skip in his step as he returned to the boat and attempted to launch it from the shoreline. Fortunately, the waters were just calm enough that Neach could begin movement fairly simply. With a push backward, the large oar which he now found himself in possession of, moved the boat forward ever so slightly. It was the first stroke of many which would be exhibited in order to reach the elusive island that had seemed to be located so much closer earlier in the day. But Neach pressed on, determined to reach the island by sunset. The sun was now burning crimson and orange as it hovered above the horizon, like a bird searching for fish below the water’s surface.

  He pressed on, hell-bent on forward motion in the direction of the strangely formed rock located a few hundred meters from where he was currently floating amongst the waves. A well-organized stroke of the oar sent the small boat crashing over the crest of the falling wave which finally moved Neach out of the fray that was the water nearest to land. Smoothly maneuvering his way amongst the rocks which speckled the ocean surface, Neach ambitiously hurled the bow of the boat in the direction of the island.

  It was as if the beach was in the palm of his hand now as he found a second wind that enabled him to put his maximum effort into the push toward the destination. His gaze could be fixated by little, as it was intent upon the strip of sand that appeared a safe haven to Neach’s weary eyes. The final hundred feet or so seemed as if it was a mile in a rainstorm, but eventually the rickety boat made its way onshore.

  The sand provided retribution for the journey which had previously ensued. Neach collapsed on its gritty surface as the sun began to fall below the horizon. To his left, the purple and orange of the setting sun appeared as if it were a cataclysmic explosion on the very rift between sky and land. A nebula of iridescent flames that threatened to burn the very world as it was known, the sunset provided a palette of colors that the finest artist would have salivated to have in their possession.

  He closed his eyes and his mind wandered to the beautiful girl from Leirwold. Her vivid green eyes were looking into the chasms of his soul as he dreamt of seeing her again. Her deep black hair looked almost purple as it flowed in the wind behind her. The two were riding through a field atop Rine, toward an unknown destination. She was so beautiful that Neach was able to get lost within her stunning qualities. No natural occurrence could deviate his thoughts from her beauty.

  The tranquility was disrupted as he felt the tide moving in on the shore. His feet were drenched as the saltwater crept further up the beach. With a swift turn, Neach stood up and scanned his surroundings.

  Rising from the sand with unabashed fervor was a collection of trees that were as skinny as they were tall. Their broad leaves cast a shadow over the ground below, in the sunset which was overpowering the tiny island at dusk. A path, rough at best, could be seen snaking through the wooded outcrop and disappearing behind a drop off.

  Off into the impending darkness, Neach disappeared. What lie beyond the trees was uncertain, but onward he pressed, hoping for revelation in a time of thinly veiled secrecy.

  IX

  The trees hung over the path as if the forest begged to be adorned by their plentiful foliage. Any light which had existed nearer the beach had now disappeared. Exotic animals, which made sounds unlike anything Neach had ever heard before, crooned deep into the misty forest. Smoke lingered in the air ahead of Neach as he wandered aimlessly along the path. Its scent hit his nostrils with a pungent reprieve and at once he knew what it was: a fire.

  At risk of breaking into a trot, Neach caught himself as he bounded quickly toward the fire he believed he was closing in on. With a stutter, he stopped in his tracks and crept slowly toward the crackling flame that was only a few hundred meters in front of him.

  Exotic was a tame term to define what it was that Neach was seeing on this island. Such flora had never been seen by the young man, and his eyes gaped as he gazed around his perimeter. Large mushrooms with red caps speckled the ground as if they were a fungal
rash outspread on the vibrant green land. The trees which comprised the space around him seemed to ascend for eternity, only to be halted by the fanning out of their broad leaves. As a result, a canopy was erected that prevented even the slightest amount of sunlight from reaching the forest floor. At the base of these trees, bright pink flowers were in bloom. They wrapped themselves around the thick part of the trunk as the innocent bystander would be left to determine if they were caressing or strangling the massive plant.