The Beasts of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 2)

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  “Right,” she nodded.

  “Of course, there's not a great deal we can do with that,” Ian asserted. “We know that we don't know, if you follow me. Until we manage to track down some information, we've got nothing to work with. Having come to that realization, I decided to approach the problem from a different angle.”

  “What angle is that?” the maiden asked.

  “I decided to consider other healers,” the bard replied. “Now, the priests and Telian aren't really a great deal of help because they both use the divine power. They simply tell the body be well and, by the power of the gods, it is well. Wizards who can heal are equally useless to you because their abilities shape the arcane using a very definite pattern. It's a matter of study and forcing the power to take the shape they want.”

  “I think I understand,” Gwendolyn replied.

  “Well, that leaves us with bards,” Ian said with a wink. “What we do is something betwixt and between, you might say. It's a combination of the science of magic and the art of magic, if you see what I mean. What we do is studied, as it is with wizards, but it also comes from the soul just as it does with sorcerers.”

  “I see what you mean,” she nodded. “You use your heart as much as your head.”

  “Exactly!” he exclaimed with a wide smile on his face. “When I want to heal a wound, I sing songs that are ancient; they're spells of power, but they're shaped by my desires. I focus on the good I want to do or the love I have for all life. Sorcerers do much the same thing. One of the things that struck me was that Sarena caught a wall on fire because she was angry. She hadn't been trained. She didn't even know she was a sorceress. But she started a blaze all the same! Her emotions manifested themselves as magical effects.”

  “You're right,” the maiden agreed.

  “So,” he said, taking a moment to light his pipe. “I think you might want to try something similar. The next time we need someone healed – when it's not an emergency of course, and when Darian is right there just in case – try to heal them. Focus on your desire and try to make it manifest. Sarena says you're a very powerful sorceress. I feel that you have as good a chance to succeed as anyone ever has.”

  “That's brilliant!” Gwendolyn said with a smile. “Thank you, Ian.”

  “Anytime, lass. Anytime at all.”

  Shortly after this conversation ended, Erana and Kilren rejoined the party; a small army of wardens following at their heels. The leader of these warriors, along with the ranger and the rogue, made their way immediately to the Telian. As soon as he reached the young knight, he knelt before him with his head bowed. Darian stood quietly, gazing down at the elf at his feet waiting for him to speak. As the silent seconds passed, the Telian began to feel more and more awkward.

  His eyes wandered as he wondered exactly what, if anything, he was supposed to do. His gaze landed on Erana who appeared to be trying to say something, but who was completely unable to speak for some reason. As she began to point energetically from the knight to the kneeling warden, he realized she was trying to mouth something to him. Darian shook his head in confusion. He had never been very good at reading lips.

  “Arise, my brother,” she said at last, lifting the warden captain to his feet. “Sir Darian, this is Captain Kalfin, friend of the Telian. Captain Kalfin, this is Sir Darian, elf friend.”

  “It's an honor,” Kalfin said, taking the Telian by the wrist.

  “The honor is mine,” the knight replied.

  “King Illfas sent us in search of you,” the elf said. “We're under your command until we reach Talsier. What would you have us do?”

  “Captain Tealor?” the young knight said, turning to his friend.

  “Our group has gotten large enough that we need to travel as a true military column,” the warrior began. “We need to keep the refugees near the center of the group, along with the captain's most capable wardens. Sarena and Ian, along with Gwendolyn, should also stay near the middle. Kilren and Erana would probably be extremely helpful near the front with a few wardens to support them. We also need three other scouting bands to cover the left and right flanks and act as the rear guard. Darin, you and I, as well as Captain Kalfin, need to move throughout to column ensuring that everyone stays alert at all times.”

  “Do it,” the Telian said with a nod.

  “At once,” Kalfin replied, quickly turning to see the knight's orders enforced.

  Considering the size and composition of the group, they managed to travel with reasonable speed. Even the refugees were able to keep up a rather remarkable pace. This was partially due to the fact that most of the party's horses were shared amongst them. Of course, the fact that the hope of safety was still many miles away served as a motivating factor.

  As the party marched along, they encountered more wandering wardens and even more fleeing refugees. Over the course of just a few hours, the band had grown until there were over one-hundred-fifty elves traveling with them. This had both positive and negative aspects. Although they were steadily adding more and more warriors to their ranks, the number of those requiring protection was growing even more quickly. Inevitably, as the size of the party increased, its speed lessened.

  They reached Salnaer roughly two hours after they had hoped to. Darian was more disappointed than surprised when they arrived to find the village completely deserted. Fortunately, it hadn't been ransacked. At least, not yet. The people had been wise enough to flee before they were attacked.

  Obviously, word of the danger had gotten this far. In all probability, they were heading north and there was at least some chance that they would be able to catch them. The young knight had no idea how long they had been gone. However, an entire fleeing village would be moving even more slowly than their own numerous band.

  As the party passed through the center of Salnaer, a voice from above attracted the knight's attention.

  “Kalfin,” the voice cried, “I'm glad to see you.”

  The Telian looked up to see a young elf perched in the upper branches of a tree.

  “Mallian,” the elvish captain replied, “What are you doing here?”

  “Scouting duty, sir!” the elf answered. “I'm to wait and watch.”

  “How long has the village been empty?” Kalfin asked.

  “Maybe an hour-and-a-half, sir,” Mallian answered. “Maybe a little less. If you hurry, you should be able to catch 'em before nightfall, or just after. The king sent two-hundred wardens and twenty rangers as an escort. You'll not find another occupied town anywhere nearby. If I were you, I'd try to reach them before I setup camp. You'll stand a better chance together.”

  “We'll try,” Kalfin nodded before turning his gaze to the Telian. “Assuming that's your wish, sir.”

  “Oh, yes,” the knight agreed, “absolutely.”

  “Will you be alright?” the elvish captain asked, gazing back up in the tree.

  “Yes, sir,” the young elf nodded. “They'll never see me. Even if they do, they'll never catch me!”

  With a clear goal in sight, the party once again set out. Now, there was no question that they would have to spend yet another night in the wilderness. That being the case, it was imperative that the band reach the camp of the other refugees and combine their forces. Together, they might have the numbers they needed to repel even a substantial attack.

  It also seemed likely that the road between the two groups would be clear. At least, for the next few hours. Any resistance would have been swept aside as the people of Salnaer fled. This being the case, Tealor suggested that Darian dispatch the ranger and the rogue on horseback to let their allies know they intended to join them.

  Minutes later, Kilren and Erana were flying down the road to the north with one goal in mind: to reach their allies. The countryside through which they passed was almost breathtaking. The rogue couldn't help but admire the flowering trees that lined the elvish roads or the verdant grass that seemed to universally carpet them. The last few days had allowed him little time to enjoy
the beauties of the land. Now, however, as he rode alongside his love with allies before and allies behind, he was able to breathe a sigh of relief and appreciate just how amazing Innalas truly was.

  In less than an hour, the pair reached the rear guard of the band they were searching for. Several hundred elves were marching along the road heading north. Most of them had left their worldly possessions behind and carried nothing more than small packs of food and sturdy walking sticks. Mothers and their children strode along in the middle of the band; protected on all sides.

  It seemed a sad sight to the rogue. He had never seen so many people driven from their homes. However, the spirit of the refugees was inspiring. Kilren didn't hear a single complaint as they passed through the group and made their way to the commander. In fact, most of the citizens were very confident that their king would deal with the situation in short order. Most seemed to believe they would be able to return home in the next few days. The rogue hoped they were right.

  Shortly after Kilren and Erana met with the elvish commander, he brought the band to a halt. They would stop for the night. A clearing was found nearby with enough room for the hundreds of refugees and their escorts. Fires were lit and food prepared. When the knight and his companions arrived, they would find the camp a haven of rest.

  By the time the Telian's group reached the site, the sun had already dropped below the horizon. The sky was once again lit with crimson clouds; promising a clear day on the morrow. It was with a great sense of relief, not to mention genuine pleasure, that the two bands merged. Both were weary and understandably happy just to be able to sit down in peace and eat a meal together.

  The commander of the elvish forces was informed the moment the Telian arrived. He met with the party and informed the knight, along with his companions, that King Illfas wanted them to head for Talsier as quickly as possible. For the moment, the refugees were safe. They were far enough north that the troll armies presented no danger. Early on the following morning, they would join an even larger elvish force.

  Several other groups of refugees had to be merged before they continued their journey north. All things considered, the rescue was complete. The party had led their band of refugees to safety. Now, they would need to focus their energies on answering the king's summons. The commander pointed out that, even if they rode hard the next day, they wouldn't be likely to reach the capital until the following morning.

  The knight and his companions would begin their journey with the first light of dawn. However, it was now time for food and rest. The day had been long, difficult, and filled with uncertainty and fear. This was an opportunity to lay their burdens down for a few hours in relative safety. It was an opportunity they all intended to take.

  As the elvish warriors had taken up the responsibility of caring for the refugees, the knight and his friends decided to setup their own small camp on the outskirts of the clearing. It had been days since they had been able to enjoy one another's company without having to constantly be on guard. They made the most of the moment. Ian sang and played as his companions rested and relaxed.

  After roughly an hour of this, Kilren asked Tealor and Darian to spar with him for a few minutes. Circumstances had forced him to use the blade rather than the bow several times over the last few days. As a result, he was determined to do his best to increase his skill with the sword. Once they had finished, the remainder of the evening was spent recounting the details of the day as seen by the different members of the band. It was with a sense of genuine peace that the party fell quickly to sleep.

  The following morning, the party was up before the sun and riding north as the first golden rays of the day gently kissed the treetops. It was unlikely that they would reach their destination before nightfall, but they were determined to try. Hour followed hour, as mile after mile passed beneath the beating hooves of their constantly moving mounts. Both beast and rider would likely be sore before the sun set tonight.

  More than once, the party passed refugees heading north. It seemed the king was determined to prevent another massacre like the one that had taken place at Dalfaen. As these unfortunates were making their way toward the capital, more and more soldiers were heading south. It was clear that Illfas had mobilized his forces and that he intended to take the battle to his enemies.

  As the riders drew ever nearer to Talsier, it was easy for them to believe that they truly were approaching the very heart of Innalas. The landscape, if it were possible, seemed to be even more alive, more lush, more verdant. The trees that lined the road were ancient, towering above the party as if to remind them that their own time on Areon was but a fleeting moment.

  There were vast clearings within the woodlands that went on for miles in every direction. They were carpeted with flowers of every imaginable color. Some even seemed to shift and change as you watched them; slowly turning from violet to blue to a deep, rich red.

  A gently flowing stream passed through one of these natural pastures. Countless blossoms floated on its cool, clear water as it ran along the field's edge and then back into the surrounding woodlands. As the party looked on, a pure white unicorn stepped from the wood and drank deeply of the water before turning and making its way back into the shaded recesses of the forest.

  The sun was quickly sinking toward the horizon when the warrior stopped the band. They had gone as far as they could. Both the animals and their riders were weary and stiff. They would reach Talsier early the next day. For the moment, they needed rest. The rogue, however, did manage to persuade the knight and the warrior that they had strength enough left for a few minutes of sparring.

  The clearing in which they setup camp seemed like a garden. The scent of innumerable flowers filled the air and, as the twin moons rose, they filled the little glen with their silver light. Even the wood they collected for the fire seemed perfumed and what little smoke it put out smelled delightful. The party was weary and, shortly after they stopped, they were well fed. Although it seemed unlikely that they were in any danger, the warrior and the knight decided it would be best to maintain a watch. They would reach safety in the morning but, for the time being, they had to remain on guard.

  The dark brown eyes that stared back at him from the mirror-like surface of the water burned with determination and power. They seemed ageless, immortal, and relentless. The face in which these eyes were set did not share these qualities, however. Its long white hair and beard, along with the deep wrinkles that seemed to cover it, made it seem both ancient and frail.

  Galrin sighed before turning to make his way to a nearby chair. There was no question, the girl was getting more powerful with every passing day. Perhaps with every hour. He raised his left hand, taking hold of the bridge of his nose. Pinching it gently, he relieved some of the thunderous pressure that was pounding through his skull. Scrying on this girl was becoming increasingly difficult.

  He motioned toward a nearby cabinet. Immediately the door flew open. It contained several corked vials, sorted in a set of racks that were hinged along their edge. They could be flipped through, much like the pages of a book, in order to find what one wanted. The ancient wizard motioned twice more, bringing the third rack to the front. His gaze dropped to the second shelf, which held containers of a faintly glowing orange liquid.

  With another wave of his hand, he summoned one of these. Carefully, he uncorked the small bottle before raising it to his lips. Again, he pinched the bridge of his nose. That was slightly better. Now, at least he could think through the pain.

  The wizard laid the empty vial on the table beside him before raising himself with another sigh. He stepped slowly back to the water filled bowl; grabbing it by the edges with both hands. He took a deep breath. She would not overcome him.

  With all of the considerable power that Galrin could muster, he forced the arcane power through his veins like fire. The waters began to change and shift. Darkness. Blindness. No, he would see her. Suddenly, an image formed on the surface of the still water. There she was,
surrounded by her companions; asleep beside the low burning coals of a campfire.

  They were still in Innalas, that much was obvious. Not that she was likely to be anywhere else. However, he hadn't been certain. For two days, she had been able to completely resist him. It seemed to be getting easier for her. The ancient wizard could feel her fighting him. Even in sleep, she struggled against him. Something would need to be done. He would have to consider the situation and come up with an answer.

  For now, it was enough to know that she was safe. The fool that had allowed her to go on this quest had no idea just how valuable she was. No... That was the pain talking. Andor might be many things, but he was certainly not a fool. That was something Galrin would never allow himself to forget.

  In truth, her increasing power could make his task much easier. Provided, of course, that they didn't get the girl killed before she could be put to use. This thought almost made the old man shudder. No. Whatever happened, she could not be allowed to die. He had to find a strategy, he had to devise a plan. For the moment, however, he had to rest. At least until the pain in his head died down to a tolerable level...

  Chapter 5: An Audience

  It was still early morning when the band reached the outskirts of Talsier. They had risen before the sun and ridden hard to cover what distance still lay between them and their destination. As the party crested a steep hill they got their first view of the city. It was with eyes filled with wonder that the companions gazed up at the elegant and majestic elvish capital.

  Talsier had been built on a massive, tree-covered hill. It seemed the perfect marriage of nature and craft. The roads were paved with large sections of white stone flawlessly cut and seamlessly joined together to perfectly follow the ups and downs of the land they traversed. A river that was both wide and deep encompassed the capital, serving to defend it. Arched bridges of wood and stone spanned this natural moat making it possible for those who were welcome to enter the city.