Wielder of the Flame

by Nikolas Rex

  Laura glanced at Marc, she was blushing, Marc felt awkward as well.

  “Yes,” Mel said, “Well then, Farewell!”

  And then, the two groups were separated, heading down different paths.

  Chapter Forty One

  The Forging

  At first the group could only speak of Mel and her time with them. Then they spoke of Terga and their time there, since Puck had not been with them at that time. Puck was impressed to hear of Drake’s victory over the Vorstai in Terga. He asked him why he had traveled South and Drake replied that after being unable to find out where Puck had gone, he had traveled south, trying to find Marc.

  Whether or not it was fully true, Drake did not know, but he hoped it was.

  Then they began to tell each other of their respective stories and the time flew by.

  In the late afternoon they continued their sword training with Drake. Puck had only heard of Drake’s prowess on the battlefield but never experienced it firsthand. He was impressed with the young man’s agility and strength.

  They followed roads and trails where they could. They passed by many farms. Sometimes children would run down and see who was journeying by, but mostly they were greeted only by the rolling farmlands. The mountain range in the distance they were traveling towards soon grew closer and closer until the mountains rose up on their right, leaving sparse woodlands and green rolling hills on their left. The warm breeze and hot sun began to grow slightly colder by the day.

  “Abeo draws near,” Cydas said one morning.

  “Abeo?” Marc asked, he thought he had heard the term before but could not remember.

  “The Season of Change,” Sesuadra replied, “The warm days of Refoveo are soon to be over.”

  “Autumn,” Marc said, “Where I’m from we call it Autumn, or Fall.”

  “Ah-tum,” Sesuadra tried, “Interesting.”

  “Why Fall?” Laura asked.

  “Because it is the time of year when all the leaves on the tree turn from green to orange, brown, yellow, and red, and then, they fall off the tree.”

  She smiled, “I like it,” she said, “Fall.”

  Marc smiled back. He was glad she was no longer angry with him.

  Puck changed his bandages and was coming along in his healing nicely but he still had the now scarring wound on his cheek.

  Laura was becoming quite good with her magic. The group would take turns throwing rocks and pebbles gathered from the ground, as high and far as they could in whatever direction to test Laura. She would wield her magic upon the stones, extending their distance traveled, or changing the direction of the flung stone completely to land in different locations. She would do so until she was bathed in sweat and leaning against her aldom’s neck to not fall off. As time went on she would have the party throw several rocks in unison and she would teleport the rocks to form shapes in the air or have them disappear completely. After several days of this she then began to have the groups throw the rocks and she would teleport herself to catch the rocks before they hit the ground, and then return to her aldom, captured rocks in her hand. Once she mastered that she would have two of the party members throw rocks, one high in the air, the second a little later as far as they could throw. She would then teleport herself into the air to catch the first stone, then teleport herself to catch the further thrown stone.

  The first time she attempted this she simply winked out and the second stone clattered to the road in front of the group a fair distance.

  “Laura!” Marc’s heart leapt in fear.

  A few moments later Laura appeared so far in the distance down the road she was barely a speck.

  “Hurry!” Marc said, urging Redmor to a sprint, “She could be hurt!”

  Marc raced ahead and the group quickened their pace, trying to keep up.

  Marc arrived first, pulling Redmor to a halt and leaping off his mount to the road. He ran to Laura who was laying face down.

  He carefully but quickly turned her over.

  Her nose was bleeding.

  “Laura?” Marc gently shook her, wiping the blood from her face.

  The rest of the group arrived as Laura opened her eyes.

  “Is she alright?” Zildjin asked.

  Marc lifted his hand for silence.

  Laura sat up.

  “I am okay,” she said, her hands shaking slightly.

  “No more teleportation today!” Marc said sternly, “You could have been seriously injured.”

  He helped her to her feet.

  Laura shook her head, “I have to keep practicing, it is the only way to improve.”

  Marc nodded, “Take a break for the rest of the day at least,” he implored.

  Laura did not reply immediately, but as blood trickled down her nose and she wiped it away, she consented.

  ***

  As they got further away from Denbel and Whiteholt they could see each mountain clearly as the peaks rose up and declined, forming triangular shapes that were distinctly separate. The one they were nearing was much taller than the rest.

  “These are the six mountains that lead to the Path of Freedom, the path that the Shyden Monks follow, their Monastery is near here, if I remember correctly.” Sesuadra said as they began to pass next to the first mountain.

  “Have you been there?” Puck was surprised.

  Sesuadra shook his head but continued speaking anyway, “Kyroth, Courage over Pain, the first mountain. Eroesa, Strength over Weakness, the second mountain. Seiswen, Mind over Body, the third mountain. Legaia, Life over Death, the fourth mountain. Pirewin, Truth over Lies, the fifth mountain, and Shyden, or Ascendency or the Rise of one’s Essence, the sixth and last mountain. The Shyden monastery is built near the base of the first mountain, Kyroth, where the snow melts from the mountains run off and down the waterfall to form the Jurhal river. Those who wish to join the monastery and take the Oath, must travel over Kyroth and back. Each mountain crossed over and returned represents a deeper and more powerful level of commitment to the Oath. The mountains literally and symbolically represent the Path to Freedom. As one crosses over each mountain, one must contemplate what that mountain symbolizes. Only one monk, by the name of Ybiend, in the history of the Shyden Monastery has crossed over each mountain and climbed to the peak of the Shyden mountain and completed the Path to Freedom. He did not return and the monks claim that they only know he did so because a bright light rose from the mountaintop of Shyden almost half a cycle after he left.”

  Sesuadra paused and Zildjin spoke.

  “Sesuadra,” Zildjin said in disbelief, “I know you must have read it somewhere once, because that is how you know everything you know, but what I do not understand, is how do you remember it all?”

  Sesuadra gave a sort of shrug, “I—”

  He struggled to find the words.

  “I do not know,” He finally said simply, “When I see things I just remember, that is all.”

  Zildjin shrugged.

  “So they have a difficult test to pass to become a monk,” Marc said, “Unless they cross over Ky—the first mountain, they can’t go inside?”

  Sesuadra nodded.

  “Or if you are family, like me,” Puck said.

  “They also have a great reverence for magic,” Sesuadra commented, “I am sure if you,” he looked to Marc, “ever wanted to visit, they would allow you in.”

  “Interesting,” Marc said, “interesting.”

  ***

  Their days were spent journeying and talking, and their nights were spent training and sleeping.

  Drake never seemed to tire, despite teaching and practicing against each of the group separately every evening. Even Cydas, who was older than all of them, found that he had much to learn from Drake. Drake was even teaching Laura to fight with a dagger and sword combination and she was learning fairly quickly. Marc noticed that Zildjin, of them all, did the best against Drake during practice. For some reason Zildjin always seemed to luck out at all the right instances. They were all
surprised one evening when Drake, usually perfectly balanced, tripped upon a stone and Zildjin was able to fling one of Drake’s katanas out of the young man’s grip. Drake ended the practice with acknowledgments to Zildjin’s good performance with a little bit of good fortune.

  They were all impressed with Puck’s magical artifact. He could transform it into any weapon. He shifted it into a sword to swordfight, but he wanted to learn how to use the quarterstaff most. Drake admitted to not learning much in the way of fighting with staves so Puck was mostly on his own.

  When they weren’t learning sword fighting they were practicing and learning other skills. Sesuadra began to open up more about his vast knowledge of things. Hunting, survival, everything they needed to know on the road. Laura tried to share what she remembered from her lessons in the Order of the Leaf but admitted that her skill was paltry compared to Mel.

  “I wish she would have stayed,” Laura said one evening.

  Drake shrugged.

  “She needed to return. Terga really could use her help, since her and her mother are the only skilled healers there, besides, no one else could have gone back with the supplies but her,” Marc replied.

  Laura nodded.

  They also continued to practice their magical skills. Laura was getting better and quicker at transporting things from one place to another. She was still hesitant to trying moving herself again, but told Marc that the Oracle had told her she would be able to do so easily one day. She said it was scary, unnerving. She felt like she was being pulled apart and put back together again or something. Marc contemplated similar technology he knew of that did the same thing with information, but decided not to bring it up as it would likely be too complicated to explain in full detail, and just more unsettling for Laura. He always supported and encouraged her.

  Puck spent his time changing his artifact into different shapes and stretching the limitations of his power. The relic seemed to have an unlimited supply of metal but did not follow any rules or laws of science as Marc knew. It transformed from the smallest of things into much larger items.

  The largest of which Puck could shift it into seemed to be something the size of a wagon.

  Drake, of course, kept pace with the aldoms simply by walking quickly.

  And Marc, was becoming better and better at controlling the power from the Sword of the Phoenix.

  They followed the Jurhal river down to Essoril.

  ***

  Essoril was the second smallest town Marc had visited, next to Terga.

  Since they had no real need of stopping in town Puck led them down a separate road that went to his home.

  “It is small, sure,” Puck agreed when Marc mentioned it, “But it is my home, and speaking of home, there it is!”

  Puck raced forward.

  It was a fairly sizable stone home with a shop jutting out of the side of it, there were two doorways, one for the home, and the other was more of an opening, which they could see right into the smithing area. The house also had two chimney stacks, one for the house, and the other for the shop, which at the moment had thick black smoke billowing from the top of it.

  A man was in the open area at work at the forge.

  “Father! I am home!” Puck cried as he and the group approached.

  The man turned at the voice.

  “Puck! What? What a surprise! It is good to see you back!”

  Puck hugged his father, despite the black soot all over his apron.

  “Who are they?” The man asked.

  “Father, these are my friends. There is a lot to talk about, where is mother and Aliyana?” They are inside, I am sure—”

  The front door to the house opened and a woman poked her head out.

  “Marad, what is—oh!”

  She saw Marc and the others all atop their steeds and their balkar in the back loaded with supplies.

  Then she saw Puck.

  “Puck! You are home! OH! Puck! By the Exalted, what happened to you?”

  Puck looked much better than before but still had several fairly badly colored bruises on his arms and face.

  Puck dismissed her concern and rushed over to give her a hug.

  “Never mind it Mother, these are my friends, I must introduce them, there is much to talk about! Where is— Aliyana! And Ranasa!”

  Marc could not see the other two people as they were in the house.

  Puck dodged inside to greet the other two people.

  Puck’s mother sighed in a sort of forgiving but exasperated sigh.

  She walked over to Marc and the others, putting a hand on Redmor’s neck. The aldom gave a sort of cooing sound, not minding the stranger at all.

  “Please forgive my son’s manners, it seems he has forgotten them.”

  “No worries,” Marc replied.

  “My name is Lilis, I am Puck’s Mother,” She put out a hand.

  Marc reached down slightly and gripped her forearm briefly.

  Puck’s father put down what he was working on and came out to stand beside his wife.

  “This is my husband, Marad,” she said.

  “My name is Marcus,” Marc replied.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Marad said, he had a monstrous crushing grip.

  “I am Laura,” Laura said.

  Puck came out with the other two people as Marad and Lilis greeted everyone.

  “Sorry,” Puck said, after realizing he hadn’t introduced everyone properly.

  “All is well,” Marad said with a hearty smile, “We have come to expect your forgetfulness on things of this nature Puck.”

  Marc jumped down from Redmor and the others followed suit.

  “Well,” Puck said, “At least I can introduce my sister Aliyana, and her, uhm, companion Ranasa.”

  They all went around and introduced everyone again.

  Aliyana and Ranasa did not let go of each other’s hands at any time, and they kept looking into each other’s eyes.

  Marc sort of wished he could do the same with Laura, but was embarrassed with what everyone in the group might think, especially Cydas. Cydas was older, and seemed to picture Marc’s title and calling as more important than anything else, especially frivolous things, like relationships.

  “Well,” Lilis said after the introductions were over, “Puck, I want to know exactly how you got yourself into this condition.” She gently prodded one of the bruises, inspecting it.

  “Yes,” Ranasa spoke up, “You seem to have had quite a number done on you.”

  Puck looked at Ranasa solemnly, “It was the Bloodcloaks.”

  “Archfiend take them and darkness consume them!” Ranasa said, his face twisting suddenly with anger.

  “Ranasa, Derru of Essoril, watch your tongue,” Lilis spoke in a motherly tone.

  “It is true,” Ranasa said still somewhat resolutely, though in a quieter tone.

  Aliyana patted Ranasa on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear.

  He nodded his head and fell silent.

  “Let us all go inside,” Marad said, “There is food on the table.”

  “Is there a place we can stable the aldoms?” Cydas asked.

  “We can throw something together in the workshop,” Marad suggested.

  “Come in, then,” Lilis ushered them into the house while Cydas, Marad, Puck, Ranasa, and Aliyana helped with the aldoms and the balkar.

  “Please, find a place to sit, whether at the table or in the main room, I have plenty of plates.”

  The delicious smells of cooking meat and bread wafted all throughout the house. There were several wooden chairs, a rocking chair, and other seats for everyone to sit at. Marc found himself sitting at the table next to Laura. Laura placed her hand on his knee underneath the table. She smiled at him. He smiled back. The wonderful smells made him conscious of his own odor and just how long he had been on the road and the last time he had taken a shower, or bathed, rather.

  Lilis was quick on her feet with serving food, soon a platter was laid out in front
of everyone. The others came in and were also given a plate of delicious food.

  “Well,” Marad said as the eating was coming to an end, “Puck, if you would,” He motioned for Puck to begin the story.

  “Yes,” Puck replied, “This is not going to be a short telling.”

  And it wasn’t.

  ***

  The story went until late into the night and even till the morning.

  Puck was not the only one to speak through it, either. Almost everyone contributed to the conversation, whether it was telling a part of the story Puck did not know, or explaining some things, like Cydas did when they got to the Oracle, and like Marc did when he revealed that he was the Wielder of the Flame.

  Marc was not surprised by Puck’s Family’s reaction, but he was still not used to it. Marc spoke about the Oracle’s mission for them, of the search for the crystal shards to gather them together before the rising darkness can do so. He talked about Tremos and the Oracles call for Marc and the others to rise up and fight for good. When Puck revealed that Aliyana’s pendant was one of the Crystal shards and talked about how they only had a map to find them now instead of simply retrieving them with the orbs that the Oracle spoke of that the Keeper had, Lilis spoke up.

  “Yes,” She said, “It makes sense, give me a moment.”

  She retreated into her bedroom and returned holding a small orb.

  It was perfectly clear and smooth in appearance, except for a single crack on one side.

  “Did you drop it?” Marc asked.

  Lilis shook her head.

  “No, this happened not too long ago.”

  “That must have been when the other orb linking to this one was destroyed,” Sesuadra said.

  They all nodded, remembering what the Oracle, or a fraction of the Oracle, had said.

  “My great grandfather gave this to his wife with a charge to keep it safe and it has been passed down to me, and I passed it down to Aliyana, but I never knew of its importance.”

  Puck told them of his escapades with the Bloodcloaks, at which part his mother both chided him for his foolishness and expressed her concern for the danger and hardship he had endured. He told them of the Journal he had found and Marad asked to see it. Puck told them of their visit to the Shyden monastery and everything that happened from there and down the river.