by Geno Allen
They discussed this, and Raim Sabbar laid out a plan. They would rest that night and start for Vandaris in the morning. Briefly he strayed from the point only to catch himself and continue, “It is a day’s march if I carry you both and we leave at first light. Noralie and Bondur will be most glad to meet the slayer of the dark Dragon Crimthorn.”
“Who are they?” Zam asked.
“Old friends. They once lived in Tangleweave, and that is where I first awoke. They were the first creatures to greet me, and I knew immediately they did not belong to the dark. We have been fast friends since that day.”
“They have lived longer than you… are they Tal’kyon?”
“No no… Spirius-Taliae. But you will meet them, and they will decide whether they wish to help you.”
The three talked for several hours more before turning in. Griss had been deeply impressed by Zam’s tale of his victory over Crimthorn.
“It should be in song,” he said. “Few men have ended the tyranny of so great a beast and not felt a mortal wound. I know of only three: Zamora and Kamm—the Brother Kings—and…well… now you, Zam.”
It was strange hearing the awe in Griss’ voice. Surviving my battle with Crimthorn was a most unlikely feat. He Smiled. There’s hope for Raine yet.
Zam slept restfully and was awakened by the first glimmer of sunlight peeking into the cave. Sleeping soundly through the night had been wonderful. He walked to the opening and the whole ancient kingdom of Darlandis was laid out before him. The valley was glorious in the golden light. He could almost see the villages that had once bordered Tangleweave, farmers pushing carts, children playing. Looking north he saw, for a moment, the ruins of Vandaris as they once were—a kingly outpost with royal banners flying high above the parapets. West and north of there, far in the distance, Cirin Darlanden glimmered in all its glory. He could almost hear the trumpet call as warriors returned from battle.
The history of the land that he knew unfolded in his mind, along with some of the history he did not know. As the sun rose a little higher, he saw the land in its current state, worn and weary, darkened, teeming with evil creatures, on the surface still glorious to behold, but somehow broken.
Raim Sabbar approached. He perceived the vision Zam had. “It was once a beautiful and wholesome land filled with life.” He paused to reflect. “It will be again one day I believe.”
Looking out over the broken land, Zam said, “Perhaps in my lifetime.”
Raim Sabbar smiled. “Perhaps.”
Griss approached them. “It is a glorious sunrise, friends, but we must away. The road awaits, and there is a task at hand.”
Raim Sabbar waited for the others to reach the bottom before leaping down behind them. Though he was a massive creature, he touched down without a sound, and Zam marveled at the stony character’s grace. Raim Sabbar knelt, allowing his friends to climb atop his back.
They left the wall of Ellerion and made for the heart of the woods. Raim Sabbar said, “There is a path not far from here that belies the woods’ name. It is the straightest road I know through any wood in Darlandis, and it runs through the heart of Tangleweave.” He chuckled. “I do enjoy irony.”
Zam chuckled as well. Looking down at Raim Sabbar, he was drawn back to his near-battle with the Tal'kyon and was struck by a question that had not come to him until now. Was I that delirious? On the night we met, when the trees parted and Raim Sabbar burst through, did I not see a dragon? “Raim Sabbar? This may be a foolish question, but I must ask.”
“It is always best to ask when one has questions. Proceed, Windwater. You do not wish to remain in the dark.”
“Well, it’s just that… you see… in the clearing when you burst in to save me... I thought you were a dragon. That’s why I attacked you and was so unwilling to listen when you spoke.”
Raim Sabbar was amused. “I do believe lack of sleep added to your unwillingness to listen... but to the issue of me seeming as a dragon, I did.”
“But you do not seem so now.”
Griss responded. “It is one of a Tal’kyon’s great talents.”
Zam was confused. Raim Sabbar tried to help. “Windwater, dragons were once the peacekeepers of Darlandis. Their purpose was to protect men against lesser creatures. When Mim was corrupted and led his kind astray, the dragons abandoned their call. On that day the Tal’kyon sprang from the rocks and awoke throughout Darlandis.
“Dragons were too powerful to be left unchecked, their call too great to be left unfulfilled, so when we Tal'kyon arrived we began standing in the gap between mankind and the dark creatures of this world. As dragons had joined those ranks, we became their truest enemies. In part because they knew we stood against them, and in part for their pride, knowing they were no longer the most powerful of Elyon’s creatures.” He craned his neck and faced Zam for a moment. “But that does not fully answer your question.”
Griss pointed to the path ahead.
Raim Sabbar nodded and faced the road. “I will add, the simple sight of a dragon will dissuade evil men and some of the lesser beasts of Darlandis from pursuing whatever harmful course they may be set upon, but if they are in a mood for battle, though it is folly, they will attack a Tal'kyon trusting that we do not kill without purpose. So to appear as a dragon, as unpleasant as it may be, is one of our gifts. I did not know what evil may be attacking you that night, so I chose a dragon's form for my entrance.”
“That is amazing! Can you appear as anything you wish?”
“No.” Raim Sabbar sighed. “Would that I could appear as a Rindle or a Meridel, a horse even, or any other creature, but no. I appear as I am, or I appear as a dragon. I believe it is, in part, to keep a Tal’kyon’s pride down. We may be ourselves, or we must be that which we both pity and despise the most.”
The companions fell silent for a while, Raim Sabbar obviously in thought, Griss in deep thought as always, and Zam pondering the Tal'kyon's talent. At first it seemed a wondrous gift, and he couldn't understand how Raim Sabbar would see it as unpleasant... until the thought came to him this way. Suppose for some reason I acquired such a talent, but could only appear as Mort. That would be intolerable. I see why Raim Sabbar finds the gift as unpleasant.
As they passed into a particularly dark section of the wood, Zam felt uneasy And Raim Sabbar sensed it. “Yes, Windwater, the Shadow Vermin are near, but they will not dare attack you atop my back. Vile creatures, but they know their limits, and they would never attack a Tal’kyon no matter how great their number. Do not fear the dark this day. All is yet well.” Zam was glad for Raim Sabbar’s words, but still he felt anxious.
Griss understood how Zam felt, remembering years ago when he was not much older than Zam and on a similar ride through dark places.
“Would you care to hear more of our travels in Darlandis, Zam?”
“I would like that very much.”
Griss shared how, with Raim Sabbar's help, he had explored many ancient places, finding written accounts of histories that had been lost to the world. Raim Sabbar joined in, sharing stories of the battles he’d fought as well as beasts Griss had stumbled upon in his youth and required rescuing from. Griss shared how he had learned to overcome most of those beasts. He even offered the details of his first encounter with Raim Sabbar.
“I had wandered into Darlandis not knowing I had left one country for another and my first day passed as any spent in the wild. But, on my second day around noon I met a Farrix.”
Raim Sabbar chimed in. “Nasty, mindless creatures. No real thoughts, just ravenous hunger.” He glanced over his shoulder at Griss whose face held the slightest annoyed smirk. “Eh, do continue.” Raim Sabbar said and continued the march.
Griss smiled at his friend. “I had slept a little, but there was an eerie unpleasantness in the wood that made deep sleep almost impossible. As I said, it was around noon when I encountered the Farrix. I had found some berries that also grew in the village where I was raised. As I set to picking them, I heard a guttura
l growl, but could not discern its direction. It was like no animal sound I had ever heard. I stood stock still, but felt the sudden rush to defend myself.
“I drew my sword and a slavering, hairy beast with the largest mouth I’d ever seen was standing only a short distance away. Hunger was all I could see in its beady eyes. It narrowed its gaze on me and I wondered–”
Zam interrupted. “How a creature could have a mouth bigger, it seemed, than its head!”
Griss paused. “Yes. You have seen a Farrix?”
“If that is what it’s called, yes. Almost a wolf-like creature… matted black fur… but more sinuous than any wolf?”
Griss nodded.
“One attacked me, or nearly so.”
“And you defeated it with only your sword? It nearly took my life! Had Raim Sabbar not arrived I would be dead. How could–”
“I did not defeat it.”
Zam couldn’t imagine having actually battled the beast. Crimthorn’s pride had afforded him victory in that battle. The Farrix simply wanted food. I would have lost my life. “I didn’t even know the Farrix was approaching me. A great bird snatched it into the air just as it leapt at me. I only saw it as it was carried away.”
Griss had first been amazed, thinking Zam had defeated the beast, but thought it quite possible—after all, Zam had defeated a dragon—but, at this last news, he understood something deeper than he had before. “You have a protection upon you, Zam. Your quest must be greater than you realize. You defeat a dragon; then Raim Sabbar, one of the most ancient warriors alive, is called to your aid; you are nearly attacked by one of the fiercest, most stealthy creatures of this wood, and without even knowing the danger, you are rescued.” He shook his head in wonder. “That bird arriving when it did speaks of more than you know.”
“Indeed,” Raim Sabbar added. “There are only a few fowl large enough to prey on a Farrix, and most live in the west. Likely it was a Rindle, and that is surprising. They would sooner prey upon you than upon a Farrix. As I live, I would wager that somehow the Rindle never saw you, or you would have been its target. Farrix has a harsh taste. I have argued with the Rindles many times that even though man may taste sweeter—” He turned his head to Zam. “Not that I know this personally—” He turned back to the road. “The dark creatures of the land are more plentiful and more deserving of being made a meal.”
A shiver ran through Zam as he imagined his own death at the Rindle’s hand—so to speak. He pushed the thought away.
“Or perhaps,” Raim Sabbar said with a lighter tone. “That Rindle had taken my words to heart. No matter... Griss is correct. Your quest is greater than you know. Again, as I live, I would wager the rescue of your friend is only the beginning of this quest.”
They each fell silent again, for a while. The sun was well overhead and they were approaching the end of the straight path through Tangleweave.
Griss spoke up again. “I never told you the end of the tale, with the Farrix.”
“Oh yes,” Zam said eagerly—He couldn't imagine actually fighting such a beast. “Please continue.”
“Well, when I drew my sword and dropped the berries, to my left, I saw the Farrix. Often my strength and size will dissuade attackers, but this creature simply saw a larger meal. I remained still with sword drawn. The creature leapt at me. I struck him with all my might, and my sword barely broke his skin. His muscles felt like Irontrees, not unbreakable, but nearly. The creature took my blade in its teeth and wrenched it from my hand. The next thing I knew I was on the ground with its hideous, gaping maw trying to close around my head. I took its jaws in my hands and pushed them apart with all my might. They did not budge, but neither did they close any farther. Its teeth dug into my hands—” He held up his palms. “I still have the scars—and I was certain we could not remain that way for long. Just then I heard a cracking from the Farrix' jaw and the creature yelped like a hurt dog. I had dislocated its jaw, and it could not close any tighter. It began to claw at me, but in that moment Raim Sabbar appeared.”
Raim Sabbar interjected, “I had never seen a Farrix that did not succeed in severing some part of its prey when attacking.” A low hanging branch brushed across the top of his head as he walked. “Watch that branch, you two. “
Griss and Zam both ducked, and Griss continued. “Raim Sabbar stepped on the creature’s hind leg. It cried out in pain, forgetting me, and tried to strike whatever had harmed it. Before its limp jaw could reach Raim Sabbar’s foot, Raim Sabbar threw it into the air and caught it in his mouth. It was gone in two bites.
“I lay there in stunned silence, and Raim Sabbar looked me over. I thought certainly I would be his second course. But then I saw the warmth in his eyes and realized I was wrong. I will never forget his words, ‘You may be big and strong, good warrior, but if you are to survive you’ll have to come with me.’ Then he said—”
Raim Sabbar interrupted again. “I said ‘Farrix... nasty, mindless creatures. No real thoughts, just ravenous hunger.’” Raim Sabbar smiled at Griss and the two chuckled.
Zam asked, “Are all Farrix dark creatures?”
The tone Zam used made Raim Sabbar stop walking.
Griss sensed a long conversation approaching, and with that a long pause in their travel. “Old friend, we must keep moving if we are to reach Vandaris by nightfall.”
“True.” He began walking again. “Windwater, why do you ask?”
“Well... when the bird took the first Farrix–”
Griss started at that. “There was more than one?”
“Well, yes. When the first was carried off, a second came. Looking back, it seems it may have been hunting the first–”
Raim Sabbar stopped again and looked back. Griss lightly kicked his side.
Exasperated, Raim Sabbar said, “Ah, yes, the march. Thank you, Griss.” He started walking again. “This second Farrix, Windwater, was it black also?”
“No. Sort of a silvery gray.”
At this Raim Sabbar stopped in his tracks and Griss kicked his side again.
“No amount of kicking or chiding will cause me to move an inch this time, Griss Corwise.” He craned his neck around to look at Zam, excitement glowing on his face. “You have seen a Silver Farrix?”
At those words, some of the dark trees nearby, unnoticed by Zam or Griss, shifted from the unwholesome green most common in these parts to a more natural shade, and some that had seemed plain grew to the emerald color that had brought Zam comfort in the early steps of his quest. Raim Sabbar continued. “I will walk as I speak. It may bring hope to the forest.”
Zam and Griss looked at each other in confusion.
“It has been eight hundred and thirty one years since I have seen a Silver Farrix. I had thought them extinct. They are the shepherds of their kind. Not even the Black Farrix were always evil—stupid, but not evil. Theirs was the task of keeping Shadow Vermin in check.
“The Silver Farrix is not mindless as the others seem, and the others were not always consumed with hunger only, though it aided them in their task, as did their great mouths.” He caught himself. “But I believe I am straying from the point again. Please, tell me what happened.”
Zam shared how the creature had regarded him and stopped its growling, how it had assessed him. “Its eyes were not like those of a beast. They were more like… yours, Raim Sabbar. There seemed to be a personality behind them. And after a while it seemed as though it... it bowed to me... and then it ran off.”
Griss was intrigued by the tale, and Raim Sabbar could hardly keep from stopping every few feet to look at Zam and read the truth of his words in his eyes. Almost whimsically he said, “Bowed indeed…. If the Silver Farrix are returning what else might return? Could it be my brothers and sisters may follow soon? And light return to this dark land?” He sighed and Zam felt his anticipation as if it was his own. Pausing one last time in his march, Raim Sabbar looked at Zam. “Your defeat of Crimthorn was the start of this, Windwater. I thank you. Indeed your quest is la
rger than you know. I must ponder this.”
Zam was beginning to believe.
The three continued the journey without words for many more hours. They passed beyond the edge of Tangleweave, across open fields, into other woods. The trees were brighter, more full of life. The emerald trees dominated the surroundings, and there were none of the soulless trees. In the near distance the ruins of Vandaris was bathed in the waning light. They would reach the outpost just after nightfall.
CHAPTER EIGHT: A CLOAK FIT FOR A KING
The sun was down and they approached the ruins in the deepening darkness. Creatures scurried in the woods about them. “Look sharp,” Raim Sabbar said. “We are not expected, and as such we may not first be welcomed.”
That doesn't sound comforting. “I thought they were your friends?”
“They are, but we have not taken counsel together in nearly one hundred years. They do not expect me, and they do not know you.”
Griss spoke up, “That is a long time, my friend. I’m sure they cannot harm you, but was it wise for us to join you in approaching their gates?”
What if Raim Sabbar's friends are not as close as it seemed at first?
Raim Sabbar's tone was reassuring. “It will be fine. They will not harm you, even if at first they do not trust you.”
When the gates were still some distance away, Griss heard a sound akin to that of an arrow singing past his ear. In the darkness he could see nothing. A moment later something tightened around his shoulders and clamped over his mouth. Like a feather he was lifted from Raim Sabbar’s back into the darkness.
Zam felt Griss move and looked to see why he had dismounted. He was met by the unexpected vision of Griss’ feet passing out of sight into the trees above. “Griss! Raim Sabbar, something has taken Griss!”
Raim Sabbar looked back, then up into the trees. “Hold as tight and close to my mane as you are able, Windwater.” He folded his wings over Zam to protect him and charged forward. Tentacle-like vines reached for them with the speed and force of arrows from crossbows. Raim Sabbar crashed through trees and brush until he reached the great wooden gates.
