The Stars of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 1)

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  “Oh, I see,” he replied before quickly changing the subject. “So, how many siblings do you have?”

  “Seven.”

  “Seven siblings?!” the rogue exclaimed. “Is that normal among elves?”

  “No,” Erana laughed. “That is very, very rare. Two or three would be considered normal. However, my mother loves children and my father loves my mother, so we're a rather large family.”

  “Well, what are their names?” Kilren asked.

  “Well, Galinral is the oldest and my father's heir. Then, there are my twin sisters, Selena and Selrana.”

  “You have twin sisters?” Kilren interrupted with an almost dreamy look in his eyes.

  “I mean that they're twins. After them, there is my middle brother, Raeltan, and then my sisters, Theana and Aralin. Then, there is my youngest brother, Kinrae.”

  “Where do you fit into the list?” the rogue asked.

  “Oh, I'm the youngest,” the elvish maiden answered. “My father allowed me to take the trials several years before the normal age. In fact, last winter was only my thirtieth,” Erana said with a girlish grin and a slight blush.

  “Thirty?” Kilren said with surprise. “I won't be eighteen for three months!”

  “What?” Erana gasped. “You look at least thirty! In fact, I would have guessed you were forty!”

  “Forty!” Kilren exclaimed. “Are you mad? I'm in my prime!”

  “There are two things you should know, Kilren,” Ian began, having approached the pair unobserved. “First, Tealor is between thirty and forty and he is in his prime. Second, elves age at half the rate that humans do. Erana just said that you look like a full-grown man. She's wrong; you don't look it – and you certainly don't act it – but still, a maiden's entitled to her opinion.”

  “Ah,” Kilren replied, the smile returning to his face, “So, this fair ranger is only thirty. Well, I would never have guessed she was so young. Her skills are very impressive for a maid of her youth.”

  “Her skills are very impressive for anyone of any age,” Ian retorted.

  “Thank you both,” the maiden replied, blushing even more deeply.

  “I would say you're welcome, dear, but I need no thanks for telling the truth,” Ian grinned. “In any event, that's not why I came out here. We'll be leaving in less than an hour and I feel we should follow the stream straight toward the mountains. What are your thoughts?”

  “I think that's wise,” the beautiful ranger agreed. “We won't leave any tracks along the rocky bank.”

  “Well then, I'm going to eat a bit more before we head out,” Kilren said. “More than likely, we'll eat our noonday meal on the march. So, I'm going to take time to enjoy my breakfast.”

  “Good point, lad,” Ian nodded. “I think I'll have a bit more myself.”

  In less than an hour, Darian and his companions bid farewell to their temporary haven. The young knight was more than ready to continue their quest. Between his hours of rest and Ian's healing song, he felt almost completely restored. He silently thanked the Eilian for providing him and his companions a shelter in the wilderness. Darian took one last look at the little cavern before plunging into the woods, following the rest of his party toward the stream.

  The young Telian marched along in pensive silence. He was fully aware they were being hunted by a man who would never give up. Every tree might conceal a spy; every thicket an ambush. Although it was impossible to remain where they were, traveling came with its own risks. At any moment, they might stumble into more of Valrak's men. There was no way of knowing just how many mercenaries sought them, but Galrin easily had hundreds of men at his disposal. The countryside might very truly be crawling with their enemies.

  After several hours of marching, Erana stopped, suddenly raising her hand. She turned her head, apparently listening for some sound she had caught on the wind. After a few moments, she stepped over to Tealor.

  “Horsemen,” she whispered.

  “Which way are they coming from?” the large warrior asked quietly.

  “Up the stream,” she said, staring into the distance. “I can hear the horses’ hooves on the rocks.”

  “We should break away from the stream and head into the woods,” Kilren said in hushed tones as the band pulled closer together to discuss the situation.

  “I agree with the lad,” Ian nodded. “We should be able to lose them without much effort.”

  “I'm not sure about that,” Erana said, pointing toward the young knight, “Darian and Tealor leave footprints behind that the blind could follow.”

  “Erana, you and the fool could sneak past them, couldn't you?” Sarena asked with a smile.

  “We could,” the pair agreed with a nod.

  “Then, go,” the sorceress said. “I'll take care of the others. It will tax me, but I'm certain I can do it.”

  “I don't want any of us to get separated, my love,” the mighty mercenary whispered.

  “No, that's true, dear one. How can we find you once we've passed by the enemy?” she asked, turning to the rogue.

  “We'll stack up three rocks – one on top of the other – on the bank near where we're hiding,” Erana suggested.

  “That will do,” Sarena agreed. “Go, quickly.”

  The pair seemed almost to vanish as soon as they stepped amongst the surrounding trees. Sarena looked on with an approving nod before turning her attention to the rest of the party.

  “We must hurry, dear heart,” the beautiful sorceress said, gazing up at her husband. “We will have only minutes.”

  “I know,” he nodded.

  Sarena began to chant softly to herself before reaching out and tenderly touching the large warrior on the arm. Instantly, he vanished from sight. Again, she reached out and the bard immediately disappeared. The valiant knight was next and, as he stood amazed by what he didn't see, he heard the dwarf's familiar voice.

  “We need to hurry, Darian,” the invisible Ian whispered. “I can hear them now.”

  In truth, even Darian could hear the party ahead quite clearly. There were several horses, at least, moving along the stony bank. He began to creep along the shore carefully, fully conscious of every noise made by his clinking armor. Within moments, the enemy party burst into view. They were moving quickly, but carefully. Several men scanned the bank looking for any sign of their quarry, while others marched along in file. There were at least thirty in the band, and each man had a horse.

  At the moment, they were dismounted and led their animals in the hunt. However, if they found the trail they sought, the soldiers would easily be able to ride the party down. Darian glanced around before deciding to press straight on. The quickest way to safety lay right through the middle of his enemies so, with a deep breath and a careful step, he moved toward his foes.

  He was amazed at how difficult it was to watch his step when he couldn't see his feet. More than once, he almost slipped and he felt certain he was making enough noise to wake the dead. However, he had already succeeded in passing several of his foes and none of them seemed to take the slightest notice of him. With every successful step, he gained more confidence and moved with more speed. In moments, he found himself in the very center of the enemy band and could see the last few stragglers who made up the rear guard.

  However, his growing confidence betrayed him and, with a single clumsy step, he broke a branch laying directly in his path. Instantly, one of his enemies turned and stared straight through the young knight. Darian stood as still as stone as the mercenary's eyes carefully scanned the area. Sweat began to form on the young Telian's brow as his enemy took a step nearer, gazing down at the broken branch.

  “What is it Akkin?” one of his companions asked.

  “I thought I heard something,” he replied, still looking carefully over the ground.

  “What?”

  “I don't know. Just something.”

  “Well, come on. We don't have time to go chasing every sound in the forest. They've camped beside one
of these streams. If we find the camp, we'll find the trail.”

  Without a reply, the young man turned and began to follow the pack once again. Darian breathed a silent sigh of relief before stepping carefully past the few remaining mercenaries. As the last of his enemies were hidden by a turn in the stream, Tealor reappeared just ahead of him. Moments later, Ian and the young knight were again visible, followed quickly by the reappearance of Gwendolyn and Sarena.

  “Thrilling, my love!” the sorceress said, smiling broadly at her husband.

  “Indeed!” was his simple reply.

  “Did you hear what they said?” Ian asked, glancing back over his shoulder. “They knew we had camped by a stream. Now, I wonder just how it was they came to know that. They won't find our little cavern for several hours yet.”

  “That is... odd.” Sarena said thoughtfully.

  “Well, whatever the explanation, we need to move on as quickly as possible,” Tealor observed.

  The entire party agreed on that point, and they were shortly standing beside three rocks; piled one on top of the other. As soon as they had reached the marker, Erana and Kilren emerged from their separate hiding spots.

  “Well, it seems like your plan worked,” Kilren observed, stepping over to join his companions. “What was it?”

  “She made us all invisible,” Gwendolyn grinned. “It was amazing.”

  “I imagine!” the rogue replied. “I can think of a few things I could do with power like that.”

  “It wouldn't last long enough for most of your plans, I'm sure,” The sorceress chuckled. “I'm sorry I couldn't do the same for both of you but, as it was, my power was stretched almost to its limits.”

  “Well, it was nothing to sneak past them,” Erana replied. “We cut a good way into the woods and then back to the stream. It would take better men than those to pick up our trail.”

  “Hopefully, they'll be the last group we encounter for a while,” Ian observed.

  “I agree!” Tealor added. “Now, let's get moving. The closer we get to the mountains, the safer we are.”

  With that, the party began to march up the little stream once again; each step bringing them closer to the mountains and, they hoped, to safety.

  Chapter 9: A Friend in Need

  Step after step, and hour after hour, the party continued to follow the stream toward its source. The forest through which they passed slowly changed from branching boughs of oak to tall straight trunks of pine. Soon, the long shadows that lay across their path revealed that noon had come and gone. They marched along, each member of the little band enjoying the sylvan journey for reasons of their own.

  Erana loved to feel immersed in nature. The surrounding woodlands wrapped around her like a cloak filling her soul with a sense of security and familiarity; the looming mountains ahead reminded her more and more of the home that was just beyond them. For Kilren, it was the excitement of the chase combined with the peace of having, for the moment, escaped. In addition, he was a nature lover of a different stamp and, as Erana strolled along beside him, he greatly enjoyed the scenery. Darian marched along on a noble quest with foes behind, victory before, and a fair maiden rescued at his side. It was the life he was destined to lead. For her part, Gwendolyn greatly enjoyed the company – especially that of the young knight. The woodland scenes also appealed to her young heart and she was delighted by the sights and sounds that surrounded her. Tealor and Sarena strode side by side, and often, hand in hand. They made a very striking couple; the husband that had returned from the grave and the wife that would stand beside him in life or in death. To them, the world was merely a backdrop for their love; a canvas upon which their hearts could paint scenes of joy and wonder. Their affection and attachment – which was always deep – had been made even more acute by the averted tragedy. Both had time to reflect on how much they had to be thankful for, and more than once, Sarena's tear filled eyes were turned with a look of thanks at the valiant Telian. Ian found himself in the middle of a ballad and was very pleased with his position. It wasn't the first time he had played a part in one of his own tales, but this seemed the most dramatic by far. As he marched along, he couldn't help but wonder just how the story would end.

  As mile after mile slipped beneath the party's feet, one member of the little band began to flag. Gwendolyn was unaccustomed to such physical exertion; especially over such long periods of time. Over the past two days, she had walked further than she would have in a month at home. She was exhausted and foot sore, but continued to press on with a smile on her face. She had determined that, as long as she had the strength to move one foot in front of the other, the party wouldn't be slowed on her account. However, eventually, her will was worn away by agony. Blisters had both formed and burst as the party trudged along. At last, it was only with a limping step that her feet would obey the command to move on.

  “Are you alright?” Darian asked with a hint of concern in his eyes.

  “I'm fine, thank you!” Gwendolyn said with a nod and a grin.

  “Well, you're limping,” the Telian observed.

  “It's probably just a stone in my shoe,” the maiden lied.

  “Then, let's get it out,” the young knight nodded. “Take my arm.”

  Gwendolyn gladly accepted the Telian's offer. He quickly led her to a suitable spot on the bank and helped her lower herself to the ground. Her feet rejoiced at having their burden lifted, if only for a moment. Darian gently removed the light leather shoes she had borrowed from Erana; revealing feet that were swollen and raw.

  “We're going to have to rest here for a few minutes,” the knight cried over his shoulder to the rest of the band. “How long ago did you realize you were getting blisters?”

  “A few hours, I guess,” she replied.

  “Why didn't you say anything?” Darian asked, shaking his head.

  “I didn't want to slow us down,” the maiden explained.

  “You wouldn't have,” the Telian said, glancing up at her face. “If nothing else, we could have carried you.”

  “Well, that would have slowed us down,” she smiled.

  At this, Darian laughed merrily.

  “It wouldn't have slowed me down and it certainly wouldn't have slowed Ian,” he pointed out. “How many miles did he carry me only last night? Anyway, there was no reason for you to suffer through this. Sit still.”

  The handsome young knight gazed up at the heavens, asking the Eilian to give him the power to ease the maiden's pain and heal her swollen wounds. As his prayer ended, he reached out and firmly grabbed one of Gwendolyn's feet. At first, pain shot through her as he rubbed his bare hand into her open wounds. However, this unpleasant sensation quickly gave way to another and, within moments, the only thing she could feel was the firm, gentle pressure of his hands on the sole of her foot. After the first was healed, the second quickly followed. Within seconds, she was strolling bare foot in the long grass.

  “Thank you!” She said, softly giggling. “That's much better.”

  “You should have said something hours ago,” Darian replied, almost scowling at her. “There was no need for you to suffer like that.”

  “Well, I won't do it again,” she said, playfully raising her right hand as if taking an oath. “From now on, if I'm hurt, I'll let you know immediately.”

  “Good!” he nodded. “Now, I'll wash your shoes out in the stream. You rest here for a minute.”

  “No, I'll wash them,” she replied, quickly lifting them from the ground. “I'm fine now.”

  “Alright,” he conceded. “But, either way, we're going to stop here for a few minutes.”

  The remainder of the party had taken the opportunity to rest their bones while the maiden was being attended to. They had spread themselves out on the grass in the warmth of what sunlight made its way through the lofty pines. As soon as her shoes were clean, the maiden – escorted by the Telian – approached her companions.

  “How are you feeling, lass?” the bard asked, motioning for he
r to sit and offering her a fish left over from breakfast.

  “Oh, I'm fine now,” she replied, graciously accepting his offer and taking a seat.

  “She's exhausted,” the young knight asserted, lowering himself on the grass. “No matter what she may say.”

  “Well,” Ian began, before taking a drink from his flask. “We can stay here for a few minutes, but not much more than that. However, I have something in my pack that should help her a great deal.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. “But, honestly, I don't need anything.”

  “Honestly, you do,” was the knight's firm reply.

  “And, she shall have it!” the bard winked.

  After only a few minutes, the group once again rose to its feet. Gwendolyn stood in silent determination; although her small frame practically shook with exhaustion. The dwarvish bard stepped to her side holding a small vial of pale blue liquid.

  “Here, lass, drink this,” he said.

  “What is it?” she asked, gazing at the small bottle in Ian's outstretched hand.

  “Something to help you keep going,” he grinned.

  “Thank you,” the maiden replied, before quickly uncorking the vial and swallowing its contents.

  Immediately, warmth and energy seemed to flow through her body. Her weariness fell from her like a garment and even the memory of what it was to be tired left her. She felt as if she could run forever and never need stop for breath. Sleep and rest – those old friends – suddenly seemed weak and childish. Before, she had almost shaken with exhaustion; now, she was shaking with seemingly boundless energy.

  “Let's go!” Gwendolyn exclaimed, grabbing the knight by the hand and leading him quickly ahead of the party. “We need to hurry if we're going to lose our enemies!”

  “What was that?” Kilren asked, gazing in amazement at the young maiden.

  “Just a little something I've found useful on such occasions,” the bard chuckled.

  “Do you have any more?” the rogue asked hopefully.

  “Not that we're going to use just now,” Ian chuckled.