by F. P. Spirit
She held out her arm and allowed him to gently unwrap the bloody kerchief. The armor had been neatly sliced open, exposing the skin beneath. Across the length ran an ugly, open scar, with blood still welling inside. It was not the deep wound he had expected to find, but the blood he had seen leaking onto the deck before, and the stains on her skin and armor could not have been caused by such a wound. Aksel eyes fell on Alana. “You healed this yourself?”
Her expression was woeful. “I tried, but I was a bit too distracted to do an effective job.”
Aksel gave her a brief smile. “I understand. Healing is not easy, even in the best of circumstances.”
Alana attempted a wan smile, but her face flushed even more, this time from embarrassment. Aksel returned his attention to the wound. He scanned deep into her arm, making sure that no tendons were cut, then held his hand over the wound and called forth the white light bestowed upon him by his goddess. The healing energy flowed from his hand and bathed the wound, causing flesh and skin to mend together and close completely.
He stood in silence among the three women during the few minutes it took to heal the wound. When he was done, Alana withdrew her arm and twisted it around, an expression of marvel upon her face. She glanced down at Aksel and gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you so much. I dare say our own holy clerics of Cormar could not have done a better job.”
Aksel grinned in response. “That is high praise, indeed.”
Alana took a deep breath before speaking once more. “Aksel?”
“Yes?” he responded uncertainly.
“Thank you for being such a gentleman. It would be nice if certain folks behaved more like you.” She finished with a quick glance across the deck.
Aksel raised an eyebrow, uncertain how to respond. In the end, he merely said, “Thank you.”
“So what happened to that witch?” Ruka interjected.
Aksel chuckled softly, certain that the young teen was purposely curbing her tongue. “Lloyd checked in all directions, but there was no sign of her. It seems to have disappeared for the moment...”
“...but could return at any time,” Elistra finished for him.
Aksel nodded to the seeress. “Yes. We were thinking it might be best to leave the river.”
Elistra pursed her lips. “It makes sense. This was the second attack in two days. There’s little doubt they know where to find us.”
Aksel couldn’t help smiling—Glo had said almost the same exact thing. It was uncanny how alike these two were. His smile quickly faded—there was still a lot to do and night was fast approaching. Aksel turned to Alana. “Elladan and Morled are trying to figure out our current position. Perhaps you can join them and help figure out where Sir Craven and your company might be. Maybe we can even set up some kind of rendezvous point?”
Ruka snorted. “Humph. Sounds better than waiting out here for that overgrown harpy.”
The young teen’s comment made them all laugh, breaking any remaining tension. Alana, still chuckling, placed an arm around Ruka’s shoulder. “Very well, let’s do this.”
Aksel led them back across the deck. Donnie stood alone at the tiller, the others nowhere in sight. The slight elf smiled self-consciously at Alana. The lady knight shook her head and let out a deep sigh, smiling despite herself at the irrepressible elf. Donnie told them that Seth had returned to the crow’s nest, while Elladan, Morled, and Glo had adjourned to the Captain’s cabin below.
Aksel, Alana, and Elistra left Donnie at the wheel, and headed down to the cabin, while Ruka returned to the crow’s nest above. Inside the Captain’s cabin, Morled and the two elves pored over a large map spread across the single table in the room. The three of them had already figured out their current position. Further, they estimated that if they kept sailing until dark, it would put them within a couple of hours’ ride of where they believed the monolith to be.
Alana joined in and they were soon able to place the position of her company on the map. If they were right, Sir Craven and the armored riders would reach a good rendezvous point not too far from where they intended to dock sometime late the next morning. Aksel told them he could use a spell he had just learned to communicate with Sir Craven first thing in the morning. In the end, everyone agreed to the plan.
The Rusty Nail continued its passage upstream until just before the sun set. Everyone was on edge, keeping a keen look-out on both the northern and southern shores. Luckily, the rest of the day passed by uneventfully. At sundown, Morled set course for the northern bank. They pulled up to the shore, drew the sails, and dropped anchor. A watch was set and everyone else went inside to their cabins for a much-needed rest.
It was the middle of the night and Seth could not sleep. He was still wound up from the day’s events, and decided to get up and check out things on deck. Martan stood in the crow’s nest, busily scanning the shorelines. Seth thought it best not to disturb him, instead moving silently around the ship, checking for any sign of intruders.
As he passed the sterncastle, Seth heard a soft voice drifting down from above. As far as he knew, no one else was awake. Seth grabbed his cloak and made himself invisible, then slowly climbed the stairs that led to the upper deck. When he reached the top, the voice abruptly stopped. Seth froze in place, his eyes searching the dark deck for any sign of intruders, but there were none.
After a few moments, the voice started up again. It was coming from behind a large storage chest at the very rear of the vessel. Seth paused a moment to consider his next move. If he went directly for the chest, he would end up on top of whoever was hiding behind it. However, if he slid far enough along the railing, he should be able get a glimpse behind that chest. His mind made up, Seth stole over to the railing and slowly made his way toward the stern.
As he drew closer, Seth was able to pick out individual words. They were not in the Common tongue, but it was a language he knew nonetheless. It was Draconic, the native tongue of dragons. Furthermore, he now recognized the voice—it belonged to Ruka. Seth nearly revealed himself at that point, but froze once again when he heard a second voice answer Ruka in the same tongue. It was the voice of an old man. The dialect was a bit strange, but Seth could just make it out.
“Why do you waste your time with these elves and the others?” the old man was saying.
“They’re interesting,” Ruka replied evasively.
“You mean the one elf is interesting,” the old man corrected her.
Seth, now thoroughly intrigued, inched his way closer until he could see behind the storage chest. Ruka sat cross-legged on the deck, with her back up against the chest. She held her short sword out in front of her, the blade glowing, but not as bright as it were going to discharge a bolt. Seth peered closer and realized the strange glow had a shape to it. It was the image of an old man.
“Grandfather!” Ruka replied, her voice rising from embarrassment.
“Admit it, child. It is this elf that intrigues you.”
Ruka paused a moment before answering. When she spoke, her tone had returned to normal. “It’s not like that. At first I just wanted treasure—but then this group seemed fun.”
“And that drew you to them.”
“Yes! Ves is always so stuffy. We always have to do the right thing when she is around, but she is not Mother and she doesn’t get to tell me what to do!”
There was more than a trace of bitterness in her tone. For the first time, Seth felt sympathy for the young teen. He knew only too well what it was like to have family members who wanted to run your life.
“And what of Maya?” the old man asked softly.
“She’s just a child. She adores Ves and follows her blindly.”
“So you took this opportunity to go off and have fun. Is that it?”
“Yes.” Ruka nodded.
“And then you fell in love with this elf.”<
br />
“I’m not in love with him!” she said, perhaps a bit too loudly.
Her head shot up and her eyes furtively scanned the deck, looking to see if she had been overheard. Seth held his breath. She had caught him once too often that way, and he had learned from his mistakes. Ruka tilted her head upward toward the crow’s nest. Seth followed her gaze, but saw no reaction from Martan. The archer continued to scan the shoreline, oblivious to the argument going on down here at the stern of the ship. In fairness, her rebuttal had not really been that loud, and Martan did not have the hearing of a halfling or an elf.
After a few moments, Ruka sat back and resumed the conversation with her “grandfather.” The timbre of her voice had changed, though—it was almost too pleasant. “Inazuma, Donnie is different. He may act roguish, but there is far more than that to him. He has one of the purest hearts I have ever seen.”
There was a slight pause before her grandfather answered. “Ahhhh, now we come to it. His heart has resonated with yours. Yes, that explains much. Very well, child. I will not interfere. But if he ends up disappointing you in the end, do not say I did not warn you.”
“Very well, Grandfather,” Ruka replied, sounding quite pleased.
The image before her wavered and vanished, and she went to sheathe the sword. Seth decided to get out of there while he still could. He carefully backpedaled along the rail, holding his breath until he reached the stairs. There was no sign of Ruka, but he remained invisible, breathing softly and sparingly. When he finally made it back to his room, Seth dismissed the invisibility spell and strode over to his bedroll.
“Out for an evening stroll?” Aksel’s voice came from under the bedcovers.
“Yep,” Seth responded without flinching. He was not about to let the cleric know that he had surprised him.
“I trust it was uneventful?”
“Well...” Seth paused a moment, then told Aksel all about the strange conversation between Ruka and her sword. When he finished, Aksel sat back, his hand slowly stroking his chin. Seth lay down on his bedroll and waited patiently for his friend to comment. Finally, the little gnome sat back up again. “That is one interesting sword. I seem to remember that name, Inazuma, from somewhere, but I cannot place it right now. Still, how many named lightning short swords were ever made?”
Seth, finally feeling tired, snuggled further into his covers before answering. “Not many, I’m guessing, but the whole thing with Ruka talking to the image...” Seth paused and yawned. “And calling it Grandfather...” Seth yawned once more. “That was... just... freaky...”
“Go to sleep, Seth,” Aksel told him. But Seth was already fast asleep.
Into the Darkwoods
It was as if the absence of light encouraged the shadows to warp and twist the trees here
First thing in the morning, Aksel contacted Sir Craven. It was a brief conversation due to the limitations of the spell, but still they were able to set up a rendezvous point. The knight had been lucky enough to discover an old beaten path that paralleled the river. He told the companions to find the trail and wait for him there. Everyone gathered their belongings and congregated on the main deck about an hour after dawn.
After bidding Captain Morled farewell, the companions disembarked the Rusty Nail onto the northern shore of the West Stromen. Aksel sent Seth and Martan to scout ahead. Ruka volunteered to help as well, turning into a hawk and taking to the skies. Glo sent Raven along with her, and the airborne duo swiftly disappeared above the trees to the north. Meanwhile, the others stayed near the river, watching the Rusty Nail as it slowly turned and headed back downstream. Before too long, it was out of sight and they were alone in the forest.
Seth, Martan, and Ruka all returned a short while later. The halfling and tracker had scouted a mile ahead, with no sign of anything other than normal forest wildlife. Ruka had gone a bit further and found the trail they were looking for about two miles north of the river. With that in mind, the companions set out northward. Even though there had been no further succubus sightings, Aksel still wanted to be cautious. He put Martan and Seth out in front, with Ruka and Raven airborne once again. Alana and Lloyd followed them, then Glo and Elistra. Aksel paired himself with Elladan, then had Donnie bring up the rear.
The marching order put them in a good position to respond if anything happened, and also kept Donnie and Alana as far apart as possible. Donnie had been trying all morning to get back on Alana’s good side. The lady knight was cordial to him, but still remained somewhat aloof. Yet her behavior did not seem to dissuade him, making the slight elf only try harder.
The Darkwoods continued to live up to its name, the trees so tall and thick that the sun barely shone through to the forest floor below. While not as eerie as the Dead Forest, there was a palpable heaviness to the woods. It was as if the absence of light encouraged the shadows to warp and twist the trees here, the trunks and branches growing at odd angles, creating shapes that fueled the fearful imagination. The underbrush was thick, and the forest floor was rather mossy, being so close to the river. It gave off a dank smell, the musky scent rather pungent.
“I hope the whole forest doesn’t smell like this,” Donnie complained as the companions slowly made their way through the thick vegetation.
“It’s only near the river,” Seth responded. “It gets better farther inland.”
Sure enough, only a few hundred yards inland, the dank odor began to dissipate. The forest floor grew less slick and even the trees opened up a bit. The companions’ morale visibly brightened and they were now able to move forward at a quicker pace. An hour later, they came across the trail Ruka had found, cutting across their path from east to west.
The trail was indeed old and beaten, appearing as if it hadn’t been used in years. Nevertheless, the overgrown dirt pathway was still quite visible under the fallen branches and vegetation that covered it in so many spots. Elladan cautioned against staying too long out in the open, so Martan found a grove of dark, twisted trees a short ways north of the trail where they could easily keep it in sight. Ruka and Raven continued to scout in the air while the companions waited for Sir Craven and company to show.
The wait turned out to be worthwhile. Donnie managed to finally break the ice with Alana. Aksel had watched with some concern as the slight elf continued to try to win her over, but Donnie had a way about him. Before long, the lady knight was conversing, and even smiling, with the slight elf. Aksel breathed a sigh of relief. That was one less thing he had to worry about.
A short while later, Ruka came flying in from the east. “I spotted riders on the trail five miles east of here. They were decked out in chainmail, and the horses had white caparisons decorated with red roses, just like Alana’s.”
Alana nodded. “Indeed, that is Sir Craven. How long do you estimate before they get here?”
“The trail is pretty overgrown as far as I could see, so I would guess maybe an hour.”
Sure enough, just over an hour later, Sir Craven and company appeared up the trail. Greetings were traded, and the companions made ready to travel with the riders. Thankfully they had planned ahead, thus Sir Craven had Alana’s war horse, Lloyd’s paint, Seth’s and Aksel’s riding dogs, and three more spare horses with him. Elladan and Donnie shared one of the extra horses while Glo and Elistra mounted another. Martan was given the last and was sent to scout out ahead. Ruka went airborne once more, flying off with Raven westward along the trail. The path, overgrown as it was, was still wide enough for two horses. Aksel and Seth rode in the front of the company, followed by Sir Craven and Alana.
“We’ve still got about a day’s march ahead of us,” Sir Craven told them. “Assuming this path continues as we suspect, by this time tomorrow we should be in eyesight of the monolith.”
“And then the real fun begins,” Seth added dryly.
The companions and troop of knights continu
ed the rest of their long, slow march westward along the overrun path through the Darkwoods.
“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Ruka announced. It was early the next morning, and the shape-shifting teen had just returned from a scouting mission of the forest ahead. The others were just packing up camp and preparing to move out.
“What’s the good news?” Donnie asked as he stuffed his bedroll into a saddlebag on the rear of his horse.
“I found the monolith.”
Glo felt a surge of excitement through his body. He dropped his own bedroll and rushed over to the young teen. “Where?”
Ruka’s mouth bent into a lopsided smirk. “That’s the bad news. We’re on the wrong side of the river.”
Elladan looked up from a saddle bag on the other side of the horse he and Donnie shared. “The wrong side?”
Ruka nodded. “Uh huh. The monolith is in a wide clearing about three miles southwest of here—across the river.”
Seth, still feeding his riding dog, wore a thin smirk himself. “And you’re sure it’s the monolith?” he asked, without looking up.
Ruka fixed the halfling with an acid stare. “Well, if it isn’t, then someone else dropped a tall, stone building smack in the middle of the forest.”
Glo chose to ignore the banter and get back to business. “What exactly did this building look like?”
Ruka spun toward him, her eyes turned upward as if envisioning what she had seen. “It’s a tall stone structure, probably three times as high as the surrounding trees. It’s got a fairly thick base but is not nearly as wide at the top.” She paused a second, then added, “Oh, and it’s completely black.”
Glo felt a hand on his arm—Elistra now stood next to him. He exchanged a glance with her and she nodded to him.
“That’s it, then,” the seeress said.
Elladan, done with his packing, walked over to join them. “Well that’s all well and fine, but how are we supposed to cross the West Stromen then with horses and these heavily-armored folks?”
