The Chosen - Rise of Cithria Part 1

by Kris Kramer

  Chapter 23

  Two Anduain women stood in frozen awe as the large tunnel before them pitched and rolled like a ship battered in stormy seas. The tremors raged, spilling torches from the walls, punching cracks into the tall ceiling. One of the women gripped the hilt of a small, sheathed sword, seeking comfort in the grooves of the leather wrap. Her companion stood tall, gaining strength from the presence of the wolf at her side. She gently stroked the tense animal’s bristling fur, assuring him that they were fine.

  And as suddenly as the violent motion had started, the rumbling faded, leaving the walls intact, but crumbling slowly. A dusty breeze flowed through the expansive passageway, creating the only audible sound.

  The women stood stalk-still, wide-eyed and shocked by Ghrian’s fury. They’d both spent years studying the ways of nature, honing their skills by harnessing the Tree’s deep magic, but never had they witnessed such raw power firsthand. Who could command such destruction other than the Sun Goddess herself?

  Torches lay scattered across the tunnel floor now, burning their seemingly unquenchable flames, magically lit by the spells of Teekwood Caverns’ early explorers. The rows of lights formed a walkway of fire, leading to a wide, dark spot in the ground. Even after taking just a few steps towards the spot, both women could see the large hole in the tile floor ahead. They continued forward slowly, curious, but guarded.

  And both stopped in a heartbeat as a head appeared from the depths of the collapse. The bare head continued on its upward journey as an armored body and legs also rose from the gloom. Now was no time for hesitation.

  “Stop right there,” called out the first woman.

  The newly arrived, much unwanted guest halted, facing away from them.

  “And don’t turn around, or I will kill you where you stand,” she added.

  Following the instructions well, the intruder resembled a statue. In the illumination of the fallen torches, another form appeared, this one lying down at the feet of the first. Red, flowing hair protruded from under a well-worn dome helmet. From the redhead, a female voice spoke in the Anduain tongue, but the two watching women had no patience even for their own kind today, and with good reason.

  “Shut up, girl. And don’t even think about moving,” said the first woman. The wolf tamer had no issue allowing her companion to handle the talking for now.

  The giant wolf accompanying the two women paced uneasily around them, its protective instincts peaking hyperactively. Kearney had a habit of guarding the sisters, and not just during cave-ins. Once he’d bitten a chunk out of an overly forward male suitor who could now only sit on one cheek.

  No matter where he moved in the tunnel, the wolf always kept an eye on the two newcomers, just as the sisters did. In the last few hours they’d learned to trust no one. Never before had they been attacked by other Anduains seemingly working in conjunction with the enemy, but there was apparently a first time for everything. One of the sisters still unconsciously poked at a fresh cut in her dark green armor, just over her left elbow. Even a slightly more powerful blow would’ve sheared her arm clean off.

  “Shela, you’re doing it again,” said the other sister, still facing their newly encountered allies.

  “So what?” Shela snapped, continuing to touch the rough edges of the damaged bark-skin sleeve. “You didn’t just about lose an arm back there.”

  “Be nice, sister. If I recall correctly, I’m the one who prevented you from losing more than an arm.”

  Shela’s glare could have melted stone. Fionn looked back with all the patience of an elder sibling.

  “And if I recall correctly, I’m the one who got us away from that horde of traitors,” Shela pointed out.

  The woman lying on the ground coughed and both sisters snapped to attention. Shela started to shout for the woman to keep quiet, but stopped short. The man who’d stood next to the prostrate woman had disappeared. Fionn took a step back cautiously. If this man commanded knowledge in the ways of concealment, he could easily sneak up on them while they bickered.

  “We might have a problem here,” Fionn whispered.

  Kearney picked up on his master’s unease and stepped in front of her, sniffing the air menacingly, itching for a fight. Unfortunately, Shela doubted that even Kearney’s acute senses could uncover a skilled master of hiding. Those damned tricksters could blend in anywhere and then strike without warning.

  But, as usual, Shela didn’t share her sister’s concern.

  “He can try whatever he wants. He won’t be able to kill us.”

  Another cough resonated from the hole in the floor, where the girl, who the sisters had already identified as an Anduain like themselves, still lay flat. This cough sounded noticeably deeper than the last. Fionn and Shela exchanged a quick glance. Shela smiled and then slowly edged forward towards the opening in the ground. She stopped when Fionn hissed at her.

  “If they were enemies, they wouldn’t have stopped at the sight of two druids. We’re hardly an imposing sight,” Shela whispered adamantly, knowing their silver cloaks announced their identity to anyone who cared to notice.

  In truth, neither of them had much combat training. Even Shela’s short sword was just for show, a gift from her brother. Druids primarily studied the light magic of Ghrian, and during times of war they only fulfilled support roles for King Darren’s soldiers. It was a difficult life, trying to keep those alive who seemed so desperate to die famously in battle.

  “So?”

  Shela shook her head in exasperation, her shoulder-length brown hair emphasizing the movement.

  “So it means that they’re friendly. And, if I’m not mistaken, I do believe my last comment upset that man,” Shela explained quietly.

  “Why’s that?” Fionn asked.

  “Just watch,” Shela replied with a smile as she stepped towards the hole. Louder now, she said, “Sister, obviously the man has abandoned this girl, running for fear of the valiant and imposing duo before him.”

  Another deep cough flew out of the hole, a little angrier than the first. Shela stifled a laugh, and now Fionn understood the game. Shela was stepping on someone’s pride. Fionn motioned for Kearney to stay put and then joined her sister, both very close to the hole now.

  “That’s right. He must be a very weak man and definitely not a warrior of any kind,” Fionn said.

  “A heinous lie,” someone grumbled quietly inside the hole. “I’m the most valiant and superb Thorn ever!”

  The whisper was followed by yet another cough in a bizarre attempt to cover up the involuntary rebuttal of slanderous words. The sisters doubled over laughing, having trodden on this poor man’s ego to their satisfaction. The girl lying on the floor next to them now turned over and sat up, staring at the pair with a smile on her face. Apparently she knew the game as well.

  Now the man leapt out of the hole and landed behind them, swords drawn. All three women regarded him with shock, not expecting such hostility. Kearney apparently had anticipated such a move and shot out from the shadows, tackling the man from behind. The red blades clanged across the floor as the man lay splayed out underneath the weight of the great black wolf. The animal’s growling did little to silence the man’s instant protests.

  “Get this beast off of me!” he exclaimed. “I have done nothing wrong here. You have tarnished my good name with your lies!”

  “It would appear that your dog has caught a mighty Thorn for dinner. Isn’t that nice?” Shela said to her sister, grinning widely.

  Thorns had a reputation for oversized and easily injured egos, a fact that Shela frequently enjoyed manipulating. She took great pleasure from the emotional discomfort of others, something most druids couldn’t fathom. A heavily light-attuned druid such as Fionn could enjoy a good giggle, but any kind of harm to an ally moved them deeply, even if it was just the harm of embarrassment. Having said that, certain people, such as overzealous Thorns, deserved a good ribbing every now and
then.

  “Let him up, please,” came a small voice from behind the sisters.

  They turned to see a petite, redheaded soldier, and judging from her cheap and tattered equipment, not a very good one at that. Fionn whistled at Kearney, who quickly returned to her side, keeping his eyes on the befuddled Thorn.

  “What are you doing with this blowhard, girl?” demanded Shela in her characteristic I-do-not-like-you-so-now-I-will-interrogate-you voice.

  The tone seemed to surprise the young woman. She glanced at her recovering friend, who now was sheepishly retrieving his weapons. Without responding to the question, she got up and joined her companion. Shela just rolled her eyes.

  “I asked you a question, dear,” she said, and not nicely.

  The girl continued to tend to her friend and answered without looking up at Shela.

  “I’m Eilidh, and I’m searching for my lost friend, Ruaidhri. We were separated in a cave-in earlier,” Eilidh explained, gaining a little confidence from her proximity to the Thorn, Shela sensed. The young woman looked over and continued, “This is Liam, a great Thorn who has chosen to help me find Ruaidhri.”

  Shela stifled a giggle as Liam’s face turned red. This interesting encounter had taught Shela a lot about this man in a very short space of time. Obviously he didn’t like his skills to be questioned, yet the affirmation from this pretty redhead made him blush. And from what Shela could tell, this naïve girl had no idea what effect she had on the man. She had a lot to learn about a lot of things from the looks of it.

  Fionn jabbed Shela’s side, probably in hopes of keeping her mouth in check. Fionn probably thought this was a cute love triangle of sorts, but she knew what Shela would think of such silliness. At the sound of Shela’s patronizing laugh, Liam’s face creased into a gallant smile and the red dissolved immediately.

  “And what, may I ask, are you two doing here, druids of Andua? Taking a little break from your assignment to the king’s army?” he asked pleasantly.

  “Our rotation is over for now. We’re on a mission of our own and encountered some opposition that decided to chase us for an age through these damn tunnels,” Shela explained. “We ended up right here as the floor caved in, and then you two appeared.”

  Eilidh asked, “What is your mission?”

  The sisters looked at each other. Communication didn’t need words for the twins. Shela was mere hours younger than Fionn, but even from that moment, their mother knew that Shela would be the headstrong one.

  “You weren’t happy to be forced from the womb, my dear child,” their mother would say. “Eventually the midwife resigned herself to waiting for you to come out in your own time. And that you did.”

  In Shela’s mind, that first event summed her up perfectly to this day.

  But now she nodded to Fionn, allowing the elder sibling to explain their situation. A grave countenance fell upon Fionn as she contemplated the dire business that had driven them into the caverns. Not every day did children search for the hope that their own father so desperately needed. Their failure to locate his prized possession could kill him, if the black depths of depression had not already claimed his fading life in their absence.

  Shela could see the burden of their brother’s disappearance pressing down on Fionn’s spirit, physically compressing her body, it seemed. A gentle hand on the shoulder snapped away the miry daze clouding Fionn’s eyes.

  Watching them intently, Eilidh’s gaze showed compassion beyond her knowledge. Fionn’s shrunken appearance alone had moved the younger woman, who’d been but a girl only moments ago. Shela wondered if she had a druidic inkling or two.

  Fionn opened her mouth to speak, but barely got one word out before Kearney growled deeply beside her. Her eyes followed his towards the darkness from where they had come, and her hand found his thick, black fur bristling sharply. The other three companions looked around, but saw and heard nothing.

  “What is it?” asked Shela, a scowl preemptively forming on her face.

  “They’ve found us.”

  Eilidh looked confused.

  “Who’s found us?” she asked.

  Shela stepped forward and stared back up the immense tunnel. Now she could hear the faint cries and yelps approaching from an unseen passageway. The echoes haunted the hallway, prickling Shela’s skin. She flexed her fingers, preparing for battle.

  “They have found us,” she growled.

  Fionn rolled her shoulders under the weight of her green scale armor and then popped her neck to the left. They could try to escape down into the hole in the floor, but running away again was not really an option to either sister. Confrontation was inevitable.

  So they would fight.