The Warrior (The Hidden Realm)

by A. Giannetti

  With great reluctance, Elerian extinguished the mage lights fastened to the tree trunks and doused the flames of his fire with water from the nearby stream. He then ended his illusion spell, watching with his third eye as the golden mantle of light masking the campsite winked out of existence. The opening between the trees was now a dark and cheerless place.

  “Someday, if the world is ever rid of Torquatus, I will use all the magic I wish when I travel through the forest,” thought Elerian to himself.

  A wry smile immediately twisted his lips as he recalled the power and might of the Goblin king that he had observed in Nefandus, for he could not imagine how such a thing might happen. Wrapping himself in his cloak, Elerian sat on the ground with his back to a tree, but remembering the leopardi, he remained awake, forsaking even the dream paths he often trod at night.

  THE GAVIUS

  All through the night, Elerian kept watch, but nothing dangerous approached the ring of trees. At first light, he rose lithely to his feet. Setting aside his cloak, he decided to forage for food before waking Ascilius.

  “He should be safe enough if I stay nearby,” thought Elerian to himself.

  After stringing his bow, he left the campsite, his light steps making no noise. Behind him, Ascilius, slept on in his warm cloak.

  A short distance from the camp, Elerian surprised a flock of gray, black barred grouse in a grove of beech trees, where they were searching the dried leaves covering the ground for last year’s nuts. When they sensed his presence, they thundered up into the air in a flurry of wings. Elerian brought down two of them in mid flight with his quick arrows.

  “They will make us a fine breakfast, and I can use their tail feathers to fletch my arrows properly when we make camp again,” he thought to himself as he gathered up the two birds and his arrows.

  When he returned to the campsite, Elerian found Ascilius sleeping on undisturbed, only the top of his head visible above his cloak. Quietly, Elerian cleaned the grouse and began roasting them over a small, nearly smokeless fire that he built in the center of the opening.

  As the smell of roasting meat filled the air, Ascilius’s robes suddenly stirred. A moment later, his head popped out, beard quivering as he snuffed the air, taking in the delicate aroma of the cooking fowl. A frown crossed his face.

  “You are taking another risk with that fire,” he said disapprovingly to Elerian, but his displeasure did not prevent him from downing one of the birds as soon as he had emerged from his cloak.

  After breakfast, Elerian and Ascilius covered up all signs of their presence as best they could before continuing on in an easterly direction through the forest. Over the next two days, Ascilius was forced to walk by himself a good part of the time, for despite the Dwarf’s disapproval, Elerian often disappeared into the canopy.

  With Elerian’s staff to guide him, however, Ascilius no longer felt any fear of becoming lost or losing his companion. Elerian played no more tricks on him, and Ascilius almost began to enjoy himself. The constant hunger he had endured as a captive of the Goblins became only a memory, for there was plenty of game now. Elerian returned from his foraging trips with trout, spring mushrooms, and gray-feathered grouse. They also had the venison he carried in his pouch. Best of all, as far as Ascilius was concerned, was the wine Elerian made each night to accompany their meal. After dinner, his stomach comfortably full, Ascilius slept on a soft bed of ferns and sweet-smelling herbs, wrapped in his warm fur cloak.

  “This is too good to last,” he thought to himself each night as he drifted off to untroubled sleep, secure in the knowledge that Elerian would keep watch all night.

  On the fourth day after fording the Elvorix, while running through the canopy miles ahead of Ascilius, Elerian came upon the remains of a wild ox on the edge of one of the stony meadows that dotted the forest. Running from one huge branch to another, he explored the forest floor all around the small forest glade, but he found no sight or sign of the beast that had slain the ox. Descending to the ground, he walked lightly over to the huge carcass. It proved to be a young bull, freshly killed that very morning.

  “It was most likely a bear or a lion,” thought Elerian to himself. “Even a large pack of wolves could not bring down a creature of this size,” he thought to himself, taking in the great horns with their dagger sharp points.

  With many a wary look around him in case the owner of the kill returned, he hastily salvaged as much of the hide as he could. He also took several enormous cuts of meat from an untouched hindquarter, wrapping them up in the hide before taking to the trees again. With the heavily laden skin flung over his shoulder like a sack, he followed his innate sense of direction through the canopy until he found Ascilius again.

  “What are you carrying?” asked Ascilius when Elerian leaped lithely to the ground from a tree trunk in front of him.

  “A bull’s hide and fresh meat that I salvaged from a newly made kill that I was lucky enough to find,” said Elerian happily.

  Ascilius frowned, for he was not pleased at the news.

  “If the beast was killed by a bear, you are asking for trouble, taking part of its kill,” he said to Elerian. “Brown bears do not take kindly to being robbed. I do not relish the thought of one of those monsters appearing at our campsite in the middle of the night seeking revenge for the theft.”

  “As much as you worry, your hair and beard should be white as snow by now,” said Elerian with a cheerful smile. “I returned through the treetops, so I am not concerned about the prospect of being found. Even a bear must have tracks to follow.”

  Ascilius remained apprehensive, but he took a share of the stolen beef and the hide. Walking together at a steady pace, he and Elerian reached the banks of another river in the late evening. Standing on the stony western bank of the watercourse, they looked across to the far side, a span of about one hundred feet. The distance was not great, but the green tinted, icy cold water of the river ran swiftly between its banks, concealing unknown depths.

  “This is the Gavius,” said Ascilius. “It is the last river we will need to cross on our journey through the Broken Lands. We will not cross here, however,” added Ascilius as he surveyed the rushing green water before him. “If the land has not changed since I last passed this way, there will be a ford farther south. The river channel widens there, and it is only knee deep in most places. Let us camp here for the night and continue on in the morning.”

  With the prospect of steaks for dinner, Elerian was more than willing to make camp. When they explored the surrounding forest, he and Ascilius soon discovered a huge boulder within hearing distance of the noisy river waters. It rose up like a gray, moss grown wall in the midst of a grove of enormous oak trees.

  “We can camp here and have our backs protected by the stone,” said Elerian to Ascilius. “A simple illusion will hide us from anything that passes nearby.”

  Raising his right hand, he cast a spell, watching with his magical third eye as a flow of golden light spilled from his fingers, covering himself, Ascilius, and their campsite in a mantle of golden light. A small strand of light tethered Elerian’s right hand to the spell, feeding it the power it needed to maintain itself. Anyone or anything looking at their campsite from the other side of that golden dome would see only empty ground before the boulder.

  Elerian next hung gold and silver mage lights on the side of the boulder. In their soft glow, he kindled a fire with dry wood that Ascilius chopped from a broken branch with his ax. When the fire burned down to coals, Elerian began roasting two enormous steaks, skewered on green sticks. Ascilius sat nearby on a small boulder, the flames casting shadows on his craggy features and raising gleams of light from the depths of his dark eyes. Although they had solid stone at their backs, and an illusion hiding them, Ascilius remained on edge.

  “Your concealment spell will not hide the scent of those steaks,” he said nervously to Elerian. “A bear can smell roasting meat from a mile away.”

  “If a bear appears, we can always
climb a tree,” Elerian replied, a glint of laughter in his eyes. Ascilius glowered back without making any reply. The prospect of climbing a tree in the middle of the night with an enraged bear trying to remove a piece of his hindquarters while he did so did not please him at all.

  Rising to his feet, he left the campsite and began to gather armfuls of ferns from under the trees to make beds for himself and Elerian. When he returned, he saw no sign at all of their camp, only the boulder, and an empty space before it. There was a smell of roasting beef in the air, however, and Ascilius began to frown again.

  “If I can smell those steaks so can a bear or anything else that happens by,” he thought worriedly to himself.

  Stepping through the veil of the illusion, he saw their bright camp once more and Elerian cheerfully roasting steaks over the fire. Still frowning, Ascilius made up two beds.

  When the steaks were browned and dripping with their own juices, Elerian retrieved the tankards he had made in Nefandus from the place where he kept his spell book. After filling them with water, which he turned into a rich beer, he passed one over to Ascilius. Sitting on the ground on opposite sides of the fire, they ate their steaks. Elerian noticed that Ascilius’s uneasiness did not prevent him from consuming every bite of his steak as well as several tankards of beer.

  “I have no great liking for forests unless they are parks or tame hunting preserves, but I could almost learn to enjoy this life,” said Ascilius when he finally came up for air.

  He no longer seemed worried about bears or anything else as he sat contentedly sipping beer. A frown suddenly crossed his face as he looked at Elerian. For the first time, Ascilius noticed that Elerian had changed. The fair Elfin features that his companion had revealed in the pit of the lentulus were subtly altered. Elerian looked more like a man now than an Elf. The gleam was gone from his gray eyes. His hair was shot with gray and his face was worn, clearly showing the ravages of age and a hard life. On the point of asking about the change, Ascilius mentally shrugged and kept quiet instead.

  “It is no business of mine if he has changed his mind and decided to resume a disguise once more,” thought Ascilius to himself. “Old habits die hard, after all.”

  Elerian noticed the frown on Ascilius’s face, but he mistook its cause.

  “Stop worrying,” he said. “I will put out the fire in a moment and end my illusion spell.”

  Although the illusion which protected them would also act as a golden beacon for anyone or anything with mage sight, whether Goblin or dragon, Elerian was determined to enjoy his lights, the warm fire, and the fine meal they had eaten for at least a few more moments.

  Ascilius was about to correct Elerian’s mistake, but then held his tongue. Instead, he sipped his bear and watched as Elerian dried the left over beef with a transformation spell for future use. Next, Elerian spread out the ox hide he had salvaged. Much as he had enjoyed the steaks, Elerian considered the hide the real prize. He cast a transformation spell and watched with his magical third eye as a small, golden orb left his right hand. It struck the hide, expanding to cover it in a film of golden light. When the light faded, the hair had fallen away from the thick hide, which was now transformed into supple, tanned leather of a deep shade of brown.

  “Here, let me do this,” said Ascilius, for he had guessed Elerian’s plans for the hide.

  Without taking any measurements, he expertly cut pieces of leather for two tunics with Elerian’s knife. Patiently, he attached the pieces with joining spells, producing two seamless, supple garments falling to mid thigh. Ascilius also made a pair of stout boots for himself, discarding the light deerskin shoes Elerian had made for him. Meanwhile, Elerian made two leather packs, better for carrying their food than their small pigskin pouch. He placed the shoes Ascilius had discarded into his own pack against some future need.

  “I will be able to carry our tankards in my pack too,” thought Elerian to himself, “instead of having to send them away each time we are done with them.”

  He converted his old pouch into a quiver for his arrows. With the last good-sized pieces of the hide, Ascilius made two large water bottles, which he secretly hoped Elerian would fill with wine.

  “Too bad I could not salvage more of the hide,” said Elerian regretfully. “I would have liked a new pair of pants too.

  The abbreviated pants Elerian and Ascilius wore were neatly mended, but they had come from other prisoners who had died in the mines. Elerian would have preferred clothes with a more cheerful history.

  “Our old pants will do for now,” said Ascilius, who had already put on his new tunic and shoes. He had attached a hood to each tunic and now happily pulled his hood over his head.

  “I have not worn a hood since I was captured,” he said to Elerian.

  Elerian, of course, knew that a Dwarf did not feel properly dressed without a hood, so he could appreciate the deep satisfaction Ascilius must be feeling. He put on his own tunic, which fit perfectly. Turning to Ascilius to complement him on his tailoring skills, he saw that the Dwarf had already crawled into the comfortable bed he had made out of ferns. Wrapped snugly in his warm fur cloak, Ascilius fell asleep almost immediately, trusting to Elerian to keep watch.

  As usual, Elerian felt no need of sleep. He extinguished his lights and the fire before ending his illusion. Long after Ascilius had fallen asleep, too restless to seek the dream paths tonight, he sat with his back against the boulder that formed the back of their campsite, listening to the sound of the river splashing in its stony bed. He passed the time by joining together all the scraps of leather that he had left: deer and ox, into a thin cord that he strengthened with another transformation spell. After placing the cord in his pack, Elerian began to speculate on what dangers they might encounter on their journey in the coming days.

  “It would certainly be helpful if we could see what lies ahead of us,” he thought to idly to himself. Then, for the first time in many years, he remembered the orb he had made in his youth. He had hoped to use it as a window through which he could see things at a distance, both in the present and the past, but orb had proved to be a disappointment, for it had not fulfilled its purpose, showing him only things that were nearby or, more often, nothing at all.

  “Perhaps the flaw was in me at the time, not the sphere,” thought Elerian to himself. “My powers have grown since I first made the orb. Maybe it will respond to me now as I first intended.”

  Filled with anticipation, Elerian cast the spell that recalled the orb from the place where he kept his spell book. Immediately, a small crystal globe, about six inches in diameter, appeared in his right hand. It was dark at first, a pool of blackness cradled in his palm, the starlight gleaming on its polished surface. Then, with his third eye, Elerian saw it take on a silvery glow. Concentrating on the globe, Elerian tried to make it show him something that lay ahead of them. Slowly, the light covering the orb faded, and its interior began to lighten as if lit from within. Excitement filled Elerian as a scene took shape inside the orb. As if he were looking through a small, round window, he saw the nearby river, slipping smoothly between its stony banks under the starlight. Shifting scenes from the forest around him followed, but Elerian was unable to make the globe show him anything farther away.

  “It still suffers from the same flaw as before,” thought Elerian to himself in disappointment. “Even though my power has grown, it will still only show me things that are nearby. What error did I make in its construction?” he wondered to himself as he reviewed the spells that had gone into the making of the portal.

  On the point of sending the orb away again, Elerian nearly dropped it when a yellow orange blaze appeared in its depths. With a sense of horror, he recognized the farmhouse where he had grown up, now being consumed by leaping flames. A Goblin emerged from the front door, his pale, evil face illuminated by the flames. Elerian immediately recognized Lurco, the Uruc he had slain in Nefandus.

  “He must be fresh from the murder of Balbus,” thought Elerian sadly to
himself. “He did not lie to me after all.”

  Suddenly the scene changed. The burning house vanished, and a young woman’s face appeared in the crystal depths of the orb, framed against the night sky and seeming to wear a crown of bright stars. Sable hair falling in dark waves framed a face of remarkable beauty, but it was her eyes that captivated Elerian. Dark as the night, they seemed to look into the distance as if in search of someone long expected. Elerian had the feeling that she had been waiting a long time, for there was a melancholy look in her eyes, as if she had begun to lose hope that the one she waited for would ever appear.

  “Who do you look for my lady?” asked Elerian softly.

  At his words, his uncertain control of the orb failed, and once more, he saw only an opaque, silvery glow covering its surface. With all the force of his will, he tried to bring back the image he had seen, but the orb stubbornly refused to respond. Elerian finally sent it away, but for the remainder of the night, he was troubled by the face of the woman he had seen in the sphere.

  “I can understand the scene with Lurco, for that was tied to my own past, but why did the orb seek this woman out?” wondered Elerian to himself. A strong desire to find her suddenly took hold of him, making Elerian wonder for a moment if some spell had been cast on him.

  “Steady now,” he cautioned himself. “The woman you saw may not even be from this time. The orb may have shown you a scene from the past. She may have passed away from the confines of the Middle Realm long ago.”

  It was wise advice, but it did little to ease his troubled mind. The urge to seek out the maid he had seen had become rooted in Elerian’s breast, not to be torn out by mere words. To distract himself, he went down to the river at first light, leaving Ascilius sleeping soundly in his warm cloak. Changing into a sleek brown otter, Elerian slipped into a deep, clear pool. Swimming lithely through the water, leaving a swirl of silver bubbles in his wake, he chased down and caught two gleaming trout, each almost as long as himself, for breakfast, dragging them out onto the stony bank where they lay side by side, gleaming like silver ingots in the light of the rising sun.