by T. A. Uner
Above him it was night time and for the first time in his young existence he beheld the stars above. “They’re so beautiful; just like mother used to describe them,” he whispered to himself, and for a moment he did not even worry that he was alone.
After getting his fill of the nighttime sky he turned his attention back to his dilemma. “What is this place?” he called out. This time even louder.
“It’s your quest,” said a voice behind him.
Fabian twirled around and before him stood a grizzled old man in green robes adorned with golden suns. A large wax candle hovered next to him and provided illumination, revealing a wizened old face with snowy eyebrows and a matching gnarled beard that resembled a bird’s nest. Fabian thought the old man’s face looked vaguely familiar, but how could it? He had never seen it before; he had been blind before he had arrived here.
“So many questions inside your mind, brave Fabian SilverSword, young shepherd from Doxmix province and the descendant of Yule SilverSword.”
“How do you know me, sir?” Fabian asked as the old man ambled toward him, the candle keeping pace with him.
“I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time, Fabian SilverSword,” the old man said.
“You look familiar,” Fabian said. “But how can that be? I’ve been blind all my life, there’s no way I could know you.”
“Eyes are not the only way of seeing Fabian; when you were a child, your mother told you stories about me…think!”
Fabian searched his mind and picked apart memories from his early childhood, going as far back as he could stretch his memory. He looked the strange old man over again. No? It couldn’t be? He’s been dead for centuries. “Tildon Crossmark? The first State Sorcerer of Rek?”
The old man clapped his hands and applauded Fabian. “Good, you see, your mind can see me just as well as eyesight, perhaps even better.”
“So why am I here, Mage Crossmark?” Fabian asked, addressing Crossmark by his respective title.
“I’m here to help you. I promised your ancestor and my good friend—the great Yule SilverSword whom I worked with for a short while—that I would help you out when the time came…and…here I am!”
“Help me with what? The Gold Quest?”
Crossmark smiled. “You catch on fast, lad.”
“Well can you give me back my eyesight…for good?”
Crossmark shook his head. “No…I’m afraid not…that would hurt you more than help, I’m afraid. Fabian, for within your perceived disability, lies your greatest strength.”
“I’m not sure I understand; you gave me back my sight now, didn’t you?”
Crossmark shook his head again. “No, my boy, this is just a dream, another world, another version of you, but not the real version.” The old man paused and wrapped a twisted arm around Fabian’s shoulder before they both started walking. “No. I’ve come to tell you of another way of getting to the Darklands.”
“Faster you mean?” Fabian asked.
Crossmark nodded. “It can be, that depends entirely on you, but you must pass through the three Hellion Doors.”
Fabian nearly laughed. “Hellion Doors?” He scratched his head. “But those are just fables, told to children from the Golden Book.”
“Do you know the true story of the Hellion Doors Fabian?”
Fabian stopped and turned to face Crossmark. “Well of course, everyone knows about them. They helped Rek’s greatest Hero, Earl Jonas Rek, whom our Kingdom was named after when he defeated the Chimerat.”
Crossmark smiled and rubbed his hands together. A light mist branched out from his palms and formed itself into the shape of the winged Chimerat. Crossmark blew on it and it dispersed. “Yes, but now the time has come for Rek’s next great hero to pass through the three Hellion Doors. Do you remember the doors…in order?”
That was an easy enough question, Fabian knew what metal each door had been constructed from, but for some reason, he couldn’t remember the order Earl Rek had passed through each one to find the Chimerat. “I swear, I thought I knew.” Then it came to him” “Bronze, Silver, Gold.”
Crossmark patted him on the back. “That is correct. But remember, you must pass through the Hellion Doors in the proper order…or else…”
“‘Or else’ what?”
“You don’t want to know,” Crossmark replied. His bushy eyebrows somehow grew larger, or maybe Fabian’s eyesight was playing tricks on him. “Needless to say, you could be lost forever throughout time and space. The order of the Doors must be respected.”
“Do the other adventurers know of this, Mage?”
“Alas not, son,” Crossmark said somberly. “They will attempt to reach the Reeper’s Keep through conventional means,” Crossmark sighed, “most will die before they even reach the Darklands, but that cannot be avoided, the only citizen of Rek that can retrieve the Golden Mane is the one that traverses the Hellion Doors.
“Now it is time for us to part ways, but rest assured, you haven’t seen the last of me yet.” He playfully punched Fabian in the shoulder and turned around.
“Wait!” Fabian said. “Why can’t you tell me the correct order? Wouldn’t that be easier?”
Crossmark stopped and slowly turned around. “If I did that then it wouldn’t be much of a quest, now would it. You’re a bright boy Fabian, even without sight you are more gifted than a legion of men who possess sight. Remember, your other senses will guide you towards the doors and help you unlock the secret of each one so that you may pass through them. Now, I must be off. Don’t fret; we’ll see each other soon.”
Crossmark waved farewell—Fabian was still trying to digest everything he’d just been told—before disappearing through one of the labyrinth’s walls.
He shook his head, yawned, and looked up at the stars.
***
When he awoke Matilda was licking his face.
He rose from his spot washed the dog saliva from his face with water from the stream. It felt cool on his face and shook off any remnants of slumber. He looked around and was disheartened to see the dark blur which was his world. It was hard to bear the fact that he had been given the one thing he had sought his whole life, only to have it taken from him.
“I wonder if the dream was real,” he grumbled before filling his canteen with fresh water.
After he had drank his fill, he refilled it and took Starspeed’s reins.
He stopped for one moment, his ears were picking up a sound. He couldn’t quite discern what was the cause of the sound, but every passing moment he noticed it was getting louder. What was it? A herd of Boschbeasts? No. They usually migrated during the day, and weren’t nocturnal. He saddled Starspeed and Matilda started barking. She had picked up the sound too. “Quiet girl,” Fabian scolded her. “Let me do the listening.” She placed her paws on top of her head and looked up at Fabian abashedly. “Maybe it’s a search party.” He cursed out loud. Not something he often did, thanks to his upbringing, but he couldn’t afford to be caught and taken back to his home. Then the Quest would be over even before it had really begun. After the strange dream where he had spoken with Tildon Crossmark, he couldn’t afford to fail, then he would never know what the dream really meant, and that was the worst outcome he could imagine.
The sound got louder and it was quite obvious that it was a rider. But as it drew closer Fabian could only make out one horse’s hooves pounding against the Crescent Road. Could it be father? He thought hard. That was impossible. Even if his father had risen and went after him there was no way he could’ve caught up so quickly since Fabian had built a sizeable lead. So who could it be? Whoever it was, he obviously couldn’t outrun in time, the only alternative was to hide. He took Starspeed’s reins and after using his smell for guidance located a dense patch of bracken at the foot of the bridge’s rear abutment. He drew his dagger and waited.
The rider got closer until its horse slowed to a trot, then a canter. Then it stopped. Fabian could hear it right over the bridge, it neighed
loudly and Fabian covered Starspeed’s mouth so the horse would not betray their location. Matilda was deathly quiet.
“Fabian? Where are you buddy?” the rider called out.
That was not the voice of his father. It was familiar, he searched his memory. It sounded like…Lager McVick?
“Fabian I know you’re around here, my scanner can pick up your lifesigns, now don’t make me have to dismount and search for you on foot.”
Fabian wondered how the Earthman could’ve found him. They were still two clocks from Rek City. And judging by the route Lager had taken he had likely headed west towards Doxmix province before doubling back east toward Outville. Lager obviously possessed sort of Earth magic that had allowed his horse to find him and his two animal companions. Perhaps Lager could be of use to him. Or maybe he was here to bring him back to his parents.
His father had always told him that, “When in doubt about someone, give them your trust.” Fabian sighed and rose from the bracken, Starspeed, who had been resting on his legs, followed suit, Matilda brought up the rear.
“Fabian…there you are!” McVick said. “Where you been pal? Been searching for you all night.”
“And why is that? Did my parents send you?”
“Of course not!”
“Then what are you doing here?”
Lager chuckled. “Nothing gets past you, does it kid? Well, after our little chat yesterday, I decided that I’d find you and try and talk you out of this little quest, but it appears you’ve got your mind set on getting killed.”
“What makes you think I’ll get killed?”
“Kid, I’ve been around this galaxy, from one part to the next, every time you take a huge risk you’re testing your luck, you may get lucky once or twice, or even a thousand times, but in the end, it runs out.”
Fabian grimaced and stared in Lager’s direction. He wished he could see the Lager’s face, so he could read it. But for now he had to tolerate the indignant tone in the alien’s voice. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought of that Lager.”
“Why? Are you so keen on getting hurt or killed?”
Fabian thought about the dream where Mage Crossmark had encouraged him to trust in his disability. “I have my reasons.” Fabian climbed atop Starspeed; he was keen to resume his journey toward Outville and had no time to fence with Lager.
“Well you’re gonna need some help kid.”
Fabian turned Starspeed toward Lager. “Are you offering your assistance?”
“Damn right I am, kid. You’re gonna need it.”
“Because I’m blind…right?”
Lager exhaled. “Now I never said that, kid; you never heard me say that.”
“But you thought it.”
“Kid, if we all got convicted for our thoughts there wouldn’t be enough jail cells to detain everyone in the universe.”
“Fine, Lager, I’d be happy to have you along.” He listened for Lager’s response and only heard the sound of someone gulping down liquid. Fabian had a feeling it wasn’t water.
“Alright, I’m ready, kid. Let’s get this over with.”
***
They reached Outville in the last throes of the final night hour. When they entered the town’s limits the sun announced its presence behind the peaks of the rolling hills. Fabian could not see it but he felt the sun’s warmth over his face, he smiled, the Sun was a positive omen in Rek mythology and he hoped its light would bless his small band with good fortune.
“So what do you need to buy here, kid? I’ve got enough provisions here for two weeks.” Lager took another swig of his alcohol and belched.
“Does that really help you feel good?” Fabian asked.
Lager shook his head. “Not really but it helps me forget.”
“Forget what?”
“My past, amongst other things.”
“Is that regret I sense in your voice?”
“Everybody’s got regrets, kid, but mine are the kind you can’t recover from.”
Fabian was intrigued by Lager’s comments. He sensed his new ally wasn’t quite ready to disclose his feelings, and Fabian was fine with that, he did not want to estrange his only ally. “I hope we’ll find the adventurers we’re looking for here, Lager. I’m anxious to get more people on our side.”
“Trust me kid, you really don’t want to hire the cowardly scum that rents itself out here; at the first sign of trouble they’ll turn tail and abandon you.”
“I don’t believe you: Outville is well-known for having the best Mercenaries in Metris Province, why the Governor of my home province, Doxmix, hired out sixty Outville trackers to help him locate a band of miscreants who were raiding crops.”
“Yeah but he was a man with a title and he had a hell of a lot of more experience and money than you have, Fabian. The kind of trash you will be getting is not even worth the trouble. I say get what supplies you need and make for the East Road toward Darklands.”
“Do you wish to take charge of this quest, Lager?”
Lager stared at Fabian, straight-faced. The shepherd could not see this but waited patiently for a response. “No, kid, I was just trying to offer my advice to you, this is your quest, I’m just along to make sure you don’t get killed.”
“Fine then, since you acknowledge that I am adventure band leader, I propose we recruit at least two more people to accompany us.”
“It’s your show kid.”
They continued onwards until Lager pointed out a tavern called Vile Offerings. Fabian hobbled Starspeed, then looked around, trying to get a feel for his surroundings. Around them locals stared at the mismatched pair, one docile-looking boy and the other an unshaven Earthling wearing a grey field jacket. “I don’t like the looks of this place,” Lager said.
“I would think you would, Lager, it is an establishment that sells alcohol.”
“It’s the only good thing going for it, Fabian,” Lager replied, “sad really.” Lager pressed a button on his belt and his horse disappeared, much to the surprise of the two drunks sitting on a porch next to the entrance of the bar.
“What’s happening?” Fabian asked after the horse disappeared.
“I deactivated my horse.”
“Deactivated?”
“Yeah, you didn’t think I could catch up to you so quickly with a regular horse, did you? It’d be dead from exhaustion; then, I’d be hard pressed to catch you on foot.”
Fabian smiled. Now it made sense how Lager had found him so quickly. He had been so preoccupied with the quest that it did not occur to him until now. “You Earthmen are true magicians, ships that fly in the heavens and magic horses.”
Lager checked his wrist band and scowled. “Yes but they both use up lots of power.”
They walked inside Vile Offerings, Lager had one hand on his holster, ready to discharge his Ionic pistol should any trouble arise. “There’s a group of gambling scumbags in the corner, Fabian, they look like mules you can hire.”
A heavy-set man with a bald, shiny head wearing a sweat-stained apron called out to them from behind the bar. “Is that your dog?” he asked Fabian.
When Fabian realized he was the one being addressed he nodded. “We don’t allow four-legged things in here boy, it’ll have to wait outside!”
“Better play along, kid,” Lager said, “we don’t want any trouble.”
“Go on Matty, wait for us outside.” Matilda looked at Fabian and Lager sadly before turning around and exiting under the tavern’s swinging doors. Fabian grasped his crook and made his way past the tables of drinking patrons toward the corner, Lager guided him by explaining the layout of the room so Fabian’s blindness would not be apparent to the four men sitting at the table. When they reached the table the men didn’t even bother looking at them and continued with their table game.
“Mind if we join you?” Fabian asked.
One of the men, a broad-shouldered man wearing a straw hat looked up at Fabian. “The game’s closed boy,” he said, “go find another t
able.”
“I’m not here to play; I’m looking to hire some men out for a quest.”
The other three men lowered their playing pieces and looked at Fabian mirthfully. “And what type of quest would that be boy?” said another man with a scarred nose whose long brown hair was tied behind his neck.
“Why, the Gold Quest of course.” The four men looked at one another and exploded into laughter. One of them laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes. “Did I say something funny?” Fabian asked.
“We’d like to see some money first,” said the man in the straw hat, “show us you’re serious and maybe we’ll talk, if not then quit wasting our time and wicker off.”
Fabian looked at Lager, who shook his head. “Told you this was a bad idea kid.”
The shepherd ignored Lager’s comment and pulled out a small drawstring bag from inside his leather waist pouch. The four men at the table looked at Fabian expectantly. Lager returned their ominous glares and slowly moved his left hand toward his holster, doing his best not to make any sudden moves.
Fabian balanced his crook over his armpit while showing the coins to the men. Their expression was indifferent. Finally the man in the straw hat spoke: “Place the bag on the table boy.”
Lager placed his right hand on top of Fabian’s coin bag. “You’ve seen the money boys, now you gonna listen to the kid’s offer or not?”
The man in the straw hat stood up. Despite Lager’s impressive height, straw-hat towered over the Earther and looked down at him haughtily. Lager looked up at him but his facial features were relaxed, he even cracked a sly grin at the giant. “No one was talking to you Earth filth,” straw hat said, “so why don’t you go over to the bar and fetch us four red brews before I lose my temper.”
Lager laughed. “You know there are two things I hate in life,” he said, before turning toward Fabian and gently pushing him away from the table, “people who are taller than me, and people who try and tell me what to do.”
Straw hat jerked his muscular arm backwards to throw a punch but Lager was too fast for him. He slammed the giant in the windpipe with a concentrated fist strike. Straw-hat’s face turned red like a ripe apple before he collapsed to his knees. The floor shook under Fabian and he could hear some of the bar patrons muttering excitedly behind him.
