Chronicles of Galadria II - Encounters
David Gay-Perret
Translated by Amy Trahearn
“Chronicles of Galadria II - Encounters”
Written By David Gay-Perret
Copyright © 2017 David Gay-Perret
All rights reserved
Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.
www.babelcube.com
Translated by Amy Trahearn
Cover Design © 2017 Joshua Wright
“Babelcube Books” and “Babelcube” are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.
The complete Chronicles of Galadria are made up of 6 volumes, which can be found in multiple languages in an e-book format (for a complete and up-to-date listing of translations and distributors, follow this link or look on the website www.gayperret.com, under the Chronicles of Galadria tab):
Chronicles of Galadria I - The Other World
Chronicles of Galadria II - Encounters
Chronicles of Galadria III - Lessons
Chronicles of Galadria IV - Tranquility
Chronicles of Galadria V - A New Beginning
Chronicles of Galadria VI - Hope
Please note, some volumes of the series may not have been translated into the language you are currently reading yet. To verify which books are available and in which languages, or to see translation progress, follow the link above.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Map
Foreword
Before you launch yourself into the saga that awaits you, let me just mention that I would like to have this book available in as many different languages as possible, so if you’ve mastered a couple and you’re tempted by adventure, visit Babelcube to get in contact with me! The original language is French (but I will entertain offers based on a previously translated language), but the target languages depend only on you – although some have already been covered.
It is important to understand that the “coming of age” aspect of the Chronicles is the result of a patchwork of themes and ideas that I added in as they came to me, in a spontaneous way, without really thinking about their effects on the overall stream of the story—a bit like an intimate diary or journal. However, the completion of the writing process also marked a moment of comprehension and a new perspective on my life and the world; I now thought of elements that I ardently wanted to share, though the story was sadly already finished. As I reread the story in the light of this new realization, I discovered that all that I now wanted to say was already there, though perhaps poorly expressed (as I hadn’t constructed the story with those ideas in mind).
So, I would also like to mention my latest project concerning this series: I am planning on creating an animated series, divided into episodes. For connoisseurs, it would be somewhat in the style of Japanese anime. Ideally, I would like to work in collaboration with an animation studio (perhaps seeking a scenario?) so that the story can benefit from the knowledge, advice, and resources of professionals, all while maintaining my point of view, my ideas for direction, and my music. Most important for me are assurances to respect the atmosphere and the story. The creation of an animated series would permit me to begin the creative process again, but with those key themes and message in mind, so that I could transmit them throughout the story, but in a clear, structured, and logical manner.
So, if you know individuals who work in the field of animation who might be interested, or if you yourself are in such a position, don’t hesitate to contact me!
And here we go. It is more than time for you to discover the adventure that is to follow. Enjoy reading, and enjoy the journey...
To all who still know how to love...
Chapter 1
HOW long had he been walking? Glaide had no idea. Shinozuka – and even the hill – had long since disappeared from his field of vision. He thought about nothing, reflected on nothing. Sometimes he looked at the ground, sometimes he looked in front of him. He knew, aptly enough, that he was in no state to make an objective judgement about what he was doing, so he preferred simply advancing to thinking. A rosy tint suddenly appeared on the horizon. In the distance, the young man could distinguish mountains, and behind them loomed the sun, a gleaming red ball of fire.
“Dawn,” he murmured. “Already.” His lips felt swollen from keeping them so tightly clamped together. The fatigue of the miles he had traveled weighed down on him suddenly, and he felt obliged to sit. His thoughts surged to the surface, confused and foggy. He didn’t try to order them. He simply sat there, contemplating what nature held up before him. In his heart of hearts, he wished this moment would not end. This moment of serenity shouldn’t give up its place to the abyss full of doubts and uncertainties that threatened him.
He suddenly heard noise: groans, the striking of weapons. A battle was happening somewhere nearby, of that he was certain. In the hilly terrain, the teen had not noticed that he was no longer alone. Besides which, he had taken pains to avoid the roads. Intrigued, he moved to seek out the origin of the sounds. He climbed to the top of a butte, laying on his stomach at the summit so that he could remain hidden in the vegetation. He crawled slowly towards the battle.
The knoll couldn’t have been more than nine feet up, but upon reaching the very top, the boy was able to see what he was approaching: an older man held off a group of creatures that nearly had him surrounded: a dozen orks, along with two or three smaller and less muscled creatures, that Glaide assumed must be goblins. Already five bodies lay on the ground, covered in wounds from a sword. The young man was surprised; it seemed the monsters had attacked someone stronger than them.
They suddenly launched their own attack in unison. In a flash, the man threw his weapon in the air, stepping around a goblin so that the circle didn’t close in around him. He caught his weapon and – without turning – planted it in the small body of one of the aggressors. He again threw his weapon above him as he dodged the slow and ill-assured attacks. A few moments later, the sword fell back into his hand, and he took to swinging it about, sometimes in front of him and sometimes behind him, riddling three orks with wounds. The wounds, however, weren’t deep, and it would take more than that to stop these killing machines. The man seemed to know that, and yet, rather than continuing to slash at the three injured orks, he went after the others. With the same technique, his weapon swung around him as he dodged and sliced. Glaide, however, was perplexed: to all appearances, the technique didn’t work well, as none of the assailants were dead, and it had been more than ten minutes since the battle began.
“If this continues much longer,” thought the adolescent, “he’ll grow tired; He’s not exactly young...” Glaide made his weapon reappear; a little action would no doubt do him good. But his intervention
wasn’t necessary. The old man, after having distributed a few strikes to all of his adversaries, and having injured them all, gave them a few mortal wounds, rapid and precise. The bodies all fell at almost the same time, covered with wounds. The stranger sheathed his sword, threw a glance around himself, collected his bag, and continued down the road, leaving behind him the field of battle and eighteen cadavers. He didn’t appear to be the least bit tired, and only a small drip of sweat on his forehead gave any sign that he was coming from combat. He quickly disappeared over the horizon.
Glaide remained in his hiding place. He had no interest in speaking with this man. No, he had no interest in speaking with a master of the Murockai technique. The teen had immediately recognized the aerial fighting technique that characterized the school, as well as the sword the man carried – very similar in shape to Jeremy’s. Besides, Gryth had said that his master was to return shortly, and it seemed he was indeed on his way.
The young man rolled over, facing up towards the sky. The sun was up now, and it had to be seven or eight in the morning. Everything around him was calm and quiet; he was in no danger. Everything on his mind pressed in on him; it was time to deal with it all. With his eyes still trained on the blue expanse above him, Glaide let his thoughts flood in. Starting out vague and imprecise, they soon began to take on order. In turn, the young man felt first despair, then joy, then pain, and then guilt. The conflicting emotions warred in his heart. He forced himself to be calm, and to analyze the situation objectively. He began to speak aloud.
“My name is Glaide. I arrived on Galadria because the Book of Eternal Twilight held a prophecy about Emily and Gwenn. Jeremy is the protector of Gwenn, and I am the protector of Emily and as such...” His voice cracked, but he forced himself to continue, saying, “and as such, I was supposed to always remain near her, and never to abandon her, unless it was to protect her.” He immediately felt the need to justify himself, and submerged himself in his reasons for leaving, which seemed to be more or less valid. He cut off the explanations and continued his monologue. “We had weapons and needed to learn how to use them. Several different schools existed, all created by Novak the Liberator. Jeremy began to study the Murockai style, and I...” The things Glaide was sure of ended there; he would have to move on to his doubts.
“I’m learning nothing at the moment. I’m searching for a master of the Iretane style who can teach me what he knows. My goal is to master this technique so I can protect my magg and my friends. I’ll find them again once I’ve become stronger.” The young man had clarified his goal, and now he began to feel more calm. His ragged breaths calmed and became more regular. Yes, he knew what he needed to do. A tiny voice in the back of his mind, though, warned him that it would not be easy. He chose to listen to the voice, and began to answer it out loud.
“At this point, this man could be anywhere in the Known Lands. He was seen for the last time in Shinozuka two years ago. I don’t know how he thinks, and I don’t know where he would want to go.” As he said those words, he felt anger begin to win the battle in his heart. “So where do I go now?” He sat up, angry now. “That man could be anywhere,” he raged. “What am I doing here, chasing a shadow? Argh! No, calm down, Glaide. Calm down...” He laid back down, his breath quickened after his rage.
Soon, though, his face brightened into a smile; his despair left him. The sudden bout of anger had reanimated him. He now felt full of courage. Yes, the man could be absolutely anywhere, but he had all of Galadria before him. He did not need to search for the man. It would be enough to go wherever he wanted, and to ask for information in the taverns that he would certainly be stopping at. But where to start? Glaide remembered that Zorick had mentioned dwarves; according to him, they lived in the mountains to the east.
“That’s it,” whispered the young man. “I’ll go to see the dwarves! They’re usually creatures of good, so I shouldn’t have any problems with them.” Though he really didn’t know what he would talk about with them, the teen wanted to travel. He had not yet gotten around to contemplating his true reasons for leaving, and he was already beginning to miss his friends. Plus, he knew that his sword fighting technique left something to be desired. But to the devil with all of those answerless questions and that fatalism. He was going to become the Destroyer, and for that he would need to know how to fight, but he would also need to know Galadria! His decision was made: he would start by seeking out the dwarves, and eventually the elves, all in the process of looking for information about the master of the Iretane technique.
Glaide jumped to his feet, filled with renewed vigor. The day ought to be beautiful, and it was time for him to get a move on! However, it had been nearly twenty-four hours since he last slept. He collapsed back down, vanquished by his fatigue. The sun continued to rise, tranquilly, and there seemed to be no threat of danger. He decided to rest on the butte that he had still not yet left.
The young man awoke slowly several hours later. He took a moment to recall recent events, then he sat up. He ached everywhere. “Right, sleeping on the ground isn’t all it’s cracked up to be... I’ve got plenty of aches and pains now,” he complained aloud. He got up, thinking all the while that he couldn’t remember having such aches and pains when he and his friends had rested on the way to Shinozuka. Maybe the excitement of the trip had made him forget them? He promised himself he’d look for a solution to the problem as soon as possible, then he continued on his journey.
While nibbling on some of his provisions and drinking some water from a gourd, he headed back to the road. He wanted to reach a village, and walking without a marked path was the best way to fail at that! His map indicated that a town called Morthiaz was in the area, so he headed in that direction. While traveling, he discovered that the gusts of wind that blew around him lifted the dust of the road into the air; a traveling cape would be a necessary addition to his things. Besides, a thick one could act as a blanket, giving him a softer mattress to lie on then the bare ground! He decided to procure one as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
The young man continued on his way for another hour. He whistled, sang, and talked to himself to fill the time. But the great spaces he traveled through, so full of silence, finally silenced him as well. He looked about him at everything nature had to offer, admiring the way the golden rays of light played on the tall plants, and the way the shadows of the trees he passed seemed to dance around him. The spectacle couldn’t replace a real conversation, however, and the solitude of it all began to weigh down on him.
From the very beginning, the adolescent had known that traveling alone would prove to be trying, both for mind and body, but he had chosen to try it anyway. He had not been wrong; having no one to speak to besides the wind might appear poetic, but after a few hours, it was exasperating above all else. He finally decided that in the future, he would try as often as possible to travel with other people, even if that required him to change his course or walk more slowly. After all, he was in no hurry; no one was waiting for him. Or that is, they waited for him, but it would be months – or even years – before they would meet again, so what was a few more days, in the scheme of things?
Chapter 2
GLAIDE finally reached Morthiaz in the late afternoon. He arrived by a little-used path; however, the place was fairly large, probably because of its proximity to the capital, and once he reached the main road, he found it was busy and full of people. The sight reminded him of the people who were important to him. “What are my friends doing now? Are they searching for me? Might I run into them here?” Glaide asked himself. In the depths of his heart, he really didn’t care either way; if he ran into them, he would continue with them, but if he didn’t find them, he would continue on his way alone. However, the young man didn’t cross paths with anyone he knew in that city.
He decided to spend some time in the marketplace. The cries of the merchants, the bargaining, the general impression of life happening in that place would do him some good. He passed several dif
ferent maggs with their protectors, often men and women in their thirties, while some appeared older. He was careful to keep his own weapon hidden. If he was recognized as a protector, and someone started asking questions, it would be rather uncomfortable having to explain where his magg was! The market stalls were filled with a diverse collection of merchandise, with weapons here, spices there, and all of them always surrounded by the roar of the merchants extolling the virtues of this product and that product.
Glaide smiled, then set out to find a cape. He wanted one that would fall nearly to his feet, and that would be simple and inexpensive. He found exactly what he was looking for in an inconspicuous stand, set back a little behind the others. The merchant sold necklaces and little charms that didn’t look very important. However, in the middle of all of the odds and ends, he saw a pile of magnificent brown material. The cape appeared to be immense. The young man approached, and the merchant lifted his eyes to look at him. He was very old, and had dark skin. A few days beard, white in color, seemed to eat up his face. His bushy eyebrows lifted when Glaide asked to see the folded piece of clothing. The stranger got up slowly, lifted the piece of merchandise, and let the material unfold entirely.
The young man stared at the cape for a moment without a word. It couldn’t have been less pretentious. The material was thick, and would offer excellent protection from the cold – which didn’t really seem to exist here – as well as against dust. The merchant held out the cape to Glaide, encouraging him to try it on. The young man put on the cloak and noted that it fit him perfectly. The cape covered him both to the front and to the back, but with a gap to the one side that would allow him to easily grab his sword. At the same time, the material could easily be thrown fully behind him, so that it wouldn’t hinder him in a fight. The cape also had a number of folds of material towards the top, under his chin, that would allow him to protect his mouth if he wished. The young man immediately felt better, wrapped up in the cloak as he was. He paid what he owed, thanked the merchant, and continued on his way, his new cape blowing in the wind.
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