Grace's Quest

by Christopher Purrett

to set and we needed to move. Night time was the best chance for us to travel without being noticed by the terrors of Mistasia.

  We were approximately one night’s ride from the Outer Realm now. Our journey had been uneventful, which made me edgy. Mecca, as usual, had found a way to relax my tension, even if for only a few moments.

  I led us from the cluster of Blue Elm trees that had served as our protection throughout the past day and into the vast open space between us and the Outer Realm. Being Elf gave me an advantage in these wild lands. I could see quite clearly even in the dark. My keen ears also allowed me to hear any enemies that might be attempting to sneak up on us…I just needed to remain focused.

  However, my mind began to race, eyes searching the area for any movement that could provide signs that someone was out there. A pressure gathered between my eyes. My instincts were at the verge of cracking under the strain. I was worried about our safety but fearful of what we just might find when we reached the Deadly Spray Forest. Would we really find King Stephan and his wife, Delia? Would they really be alive, trapped in the forest?

  Grace! A voice shouted in my head, startling me awake from my dream. What is that? Mecca’s voice sounded unusually surprised.

  Ahead of us, in the darkness, colors swirled in the sky. It cast shadows over the silhouetted image of the Outer Realm. We were almost there, yet after these past few days of hard travel, I had the sudden urge to turn around and head back to Cadieux Castle.

  Grace, what in Mistasia is that?

  I have no idea. I replied keeping the conversation between us Elves.

  The wind pushed hard against my face flinging my hood back, exposing me ears to the harsh cold. Snow lifted from the ground, swept skyward by the winds. Fraydorn struggled against the powerful gusts.

  We slowly approached the village along the Red River. The slender-crescent moon was all the light that showed our way, and it had nearly been blotted out by the snow.

  Where did this snowfall come from? Mecca groaned as he rode up beside me.

  “It’s not snowing, Mecca. The snow is being pulled skyward by whatever that is above the village.” I stared blankly at the violently swirling lines of blue, green and yellow light.

  The wind suddenly stopped. All sounds vanished like a void. A stiff pressure filled my ears. Mecca’s too, I could tell as he covered them with his hands. The colorful light flashed toward the ground and exploded tearing apart a series of small buildings. Fraydorn knelt down bracing for the sonic boom. It swept in from the village knocking Millessa back tossing Mecca to the snow.

  I dismounted and rushed to Mecca’s aid. My ears numbed from the blast, it took a moment to understand the noise coming from my friend, but I should have known…he was laughing.

  “I’m fine,” he chuckled. “Help me up.”

  Our horses had moved behind us allowing a full view of the village smoldering. Flames danced atop the blackened remains of the buildings that had just stood there moments earlier. The colorful storm above had mysteriously vanished too.

  Dread filled my body. Fear began to invade my mind with full force. Every part of me body ached. I desperately wanted to turn and leave but was too embarrassed to admit it. I am Grace Tallon, Elven Warrior and Guardian to the Queen. That is what I said to myself attempting to reassure my mind.

  “What was that, Grace?” Fraydorn asked.

  I shook my head. I had no response.

  “It wasn’t a storm of nature. That’s for darn sure.” Mecca brushed snow from his woolen coat.

  My heart thumped hard in my head. I was regretting coming on the quest and we hadn’t even made it to our initial destination yet.

  A familiar sound rang out in my wind-burnt ears. The sound of steel sliding from its home, Mecca had unsheathed his sword.

  “I’m not going in there unprepared,” Mecca announced.

  “That sounds unfair. I can’t hold a sword,” Fraydorn whined.

  “Just use your tongue.”

  I pulled my sword free and gripped the hilt tightly in my cold fingers. “Mecca!” I barked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut it!” I moved ahead, trudging one foot at a time through the thickening snow. The top layer was fresh and powdery, yet below it was crusty and hardened. Snow was past my knees in areas and quickly rising near my hips. Travel had become increasingly difficult.

  We entered the village of the Outer Realm with great apprehension. Lit by the bright moonlight from above and the smoldering flames where much of the village once stood. A few small buildings remained, but those too had cracked and scorched walls.

  A rustling noise emerged from a badly burnt building to my right. A rush of wind hit my face; it carried a familiar sound…an arrow. I swung my blade deflecting the arrow just enough that it only grazed my shoulder, tearing through my jacket. Standing in the doorway was a figure. A glint of light sparkled from the tip of another arrow pointed directly at me. Two ferocious eyes gazed upon me.

  “Show yourself!” I commanded.

  It let loose another arrow.

  Mecca cut it in half before it could reach me. The arrows pieces dove into the snow at my feet.

  “By order of the queen’s guards…show yourself! Now!” Mecca barked.

  I reached for my bow and arrow and aimed at the shadowed figure. I watched as it slowly emerged from the building into the moonlight. It wore a hood to cover its face.

  “I will not warn you again. Show yourself!” I shouted with my arrow pointed at it.

  The figure reached up and removed its hood.

  OUTER REALM

  5

  Standing before us was a young elf, she was beautiful yet angry. Her intense, golden eyes darted between us with contempt. She appeared to be searching our minds for answers…if we were friends or foes. Her flowing, brunette hair flapped in the blustery winds.

  I quickly commandeered her attention with arrow still raised. I needed to know why she tried to kill me…an elf like her.

  “We do not harm our own kind without good reason.” I raised an eyebrow in contempt.

  She shot me a horrific stare. “Nor do we leave our own to perish alone,” she spat.

  I quickly lowered my arrow and released the tension on my bow. “No, we do not.” I replied.

  “Who has been attacking this village?” Mecca interjected as he witnessed the devastation.

  “The sorcerer.” She replied with furrowed brow. She quickly approached. “And you Commander Tallon have abandoned us. Where is your honor?” The young girl hissed.

  Mecca grabbed her by the arm, and she kicked out his legs, knocking him to the snow. She removed her sword reached back and stopped mid swing. My arrow was only a few inches from her nose; once again I was ready to fire.

  “Put down the sword.” I calmly commanded. “I think you are misguided young one. Your anger is just, but directed improperly at me when it should be toward the one that brought this chaos to the Outer Realm.” We stared at one another with unwavering resolve. “Tell me of this sorcerer. What is his name?”

  “LaCroiux.”

  I felt a shiver run through my body. I quickly lowered my weapon, gazing at Mecca who shared my fearful expression. Sorcerer LaCroiux had returned. That meant awful things to more than just the Outer Realm in Mistasia.

  She led us into the burnt building and through the charred remains of the home it once was…her home, Delza Yorne. She was the elf that Queen Merran had asked us to find here. Delza was to take us to the Deadly Spray Forest to find the lost King and Queen of Mistasia. We never expected to find this upon our arrival.

  Delza took us briskly into a narrow passage that dipped below the floor and led through a dirt-walled tunnel that spiraled down into the depths below the village. At the bottom of the tunnel was a heavy wooden door. She knocked and awaited a response from within. After her coded reply, which neither Mecca nor I understood as any current form of Elfish language, the door slowly retreated. Inside was an underground world far more in
tricate than that beneath Cadieux Castle, and it was full of Elves.

  “What is this place, Delza?” I asked.

  “The Outer Realm has long been the furthest Elven village away from the castle. We learned long ago that we must protect ourselves from the beasts of Mistasia. This underground shelter provided us that protection from LaCroiux when you didn’t.” Delza’s words stabbed at me.

  “I had no idea that your village was under attack…that our people were in danger.”

  “Communication has been cut off for some time now. I hoped that you would have noticed and sent warriors to check up on us in the very least, Commander Tallon.” Delza handed her sword to an elderly elf. “Please repair the edges, Elder Smorg.

  He nodded and hobbled off to a work station nearby. Instantly, he set to work sharpening the edge of Delza’s blade along a large stone wheel.

  “I am sorry, Delza.” I began when I was rudely interrupted.

  “Chief Yorne,” She brashly replied looking at me intensely.

  I stopped in shock.

  “Chief? Who named you chief?” Mecca mocked.

  “The people of the Outer Realm,” She soundly retorted. “When it became apparent that our Commander had abandoned us…they named me Chief Commanding Officer overseeing the village and its protection.” Delza left, leaving Mecca and I standing alone.

  “What is going on here?” I mumbled in frustration.

  “Well, it appears that you can add Chief Yorne to the “not-a-friend” list,” Mecca mocked.

  “This isn’t funny, Mecca.” I watched as a group of villagers had gathered around Chief Yorne.