by Sam Ferguson
Njar pulled his sword once more and turned to the large warrior-trees around him. Rajeh signaled for the creatures to follow him. The ground trembled as they ran toward the stone golems. Everything crashed together in a battle unlike anything Njar had ever witnessed before. Stone golems would break off a tree-warrior’s arm only to have the tree regrow and come back stronger. The tree-warriors shot out strong vines, strangling and holding the golems in place while the stone creatures ripped through the vegetation. It appeared they were at a stalemate, with Rajeh hopelessly hacking at the rock with his scimitar and dodging their savage blows.
The satyr chief looked to the sky and uttered the words of another spell. A green beacon of light erupted from the ground beneath him to pierce the great clouds. Dremathor was there, hiding in the vapors above the ground.
“Come down and fight me fair, you coward,” Njar shouted.
Dremathor shook his head. He pulled his hands back and gathered balls of silver and black lightning, allowing their strength to build before discharging them toward Njar. The satyr called upon Terramyr’s power, pulling a wall of earth up between him and the magical assault. Dirt and turf exploded around him, but the lightning did not make it through. Njar then summoned large plants under himself. A great, sturdy leaf unfurled beneath his hooves as the stalk shot upward. With his left hand, he held onto a branching vine for stability, while his sword was ready in his right hand. The stalk shot upward at an alarming speed, reaching up over the wall of earth and careening for Dremathor before the shadowfiend realized what was happening.
Dremathor shouted angrily and spun in a fury of smoke and mist. When he emerged a second later, he had great, bat-like wings, four arms, and two harpy-like legs replete with talons. He opened his fang-filled mouth and issued forth a bout of fire, but the stalk grew a shield of leaves and thick, green stems that blocked the flames.
The growing plant slammed into Dremathor and drove him upward. Dremathor clawed savagely at the vegetation, but the vines grew back twice as fast as he could cut through them, ensnaring his arms and wrapping around his waist and neck. Njar was lifted out as the leaf he stood upon dropped him upon a stretching vine that snaked out and around the entangled Dremathor.
“It ends here,” Njar shouted as the vine shot toward Dremathor. The shadowfiend only barely managed to turn his head to see Njar before the satyr chief plunged his scimitar deep into Dremathor’s back. The tough hide gave way and allowed the blade to slice through the softer tissues underneath until it slipped through the back of the ribcage and through Dremathor’s heart, and finally out the front of the creature’s chest. Dremathor howled in pain as fire erupted from his wound. Njar put his left hand onto the handle of his weapon and used all of his strength to twist the blade inside Dremathor. He felt the ribs struggle at first, and then pop as they broke under the pressure. Dremathor shrieked in an unearthly manner before his body began to spasm.
Njar ripped his bloody blade free of the shadowfiend and watched as the giant stalk he rode upon shot vines into Dremathor’s open chest. They threaded themselves out the back and then wrapped around and plunged down the anguished Dremathor’s open mouth. Within seconds, he was entirely consumed by a mess of vines. Then, as if that weren’t enough, Njar lifted his hand to add his magic. Each of the hundreds of vines sprouted sharp, knife-long thorns, cutting Dremathor’s screams short.
The shadowfiend was dead.
The remaining clouds dissipated and the stone golems below crumbled to dust.
The giant stalk gently returned Njar to the ground, and then sprang back upright, growing yellow, blue, and purple flowers along its trunk and many vines.
Rajeh approached with a smile on his face. “It is over,” he said.
All six of the tree-warriors were with him, smiling with their wooden faces and bowing to Njar.
“There is one thing left before we can return home,” Njar said. He turned and sheathed his scimitar as he looked out at the expanse of the cleansed valley. He reached into a small pouch at his belt and pulled a single seed, that of an aspen tree. He bent down to the ground and planted it. Rajeh knelt beside Njar and the two held their hands over the seed, uttering the words of a prayer so sacred and ancient that it has no written words. When they were done, the first aspen grew out of the ground and reached for the sky. When it attained its full height, it stretched out with branches and unfurled magnificent leaves of gold and green.
“This will be the first of many,” Njar said. “The aspens will ensure this valley remains clean.”
Rajeh nodded and placed a reverent hand on the new tree.
“We must stay,” one of the tree-warriors said sadly. “Our purpose is fulfilled.”
Njar looked to them with tears in his eyes. “I am sorry to have lost you all. You have performed with honor, and helped our people more than I can ever explain.”
“We will not disappear,” a second tree-warrior said. “We shall remain here, in this valley. Should you have need of us again, return to this tree and whisper your prayers to Mother Terramyr. Then we shall come.”
Njar watched, astounded as the tree-warriors walked to the new aspen tree. They each placed their wooden hands on the tree’s trunk, and then vanished.
“Mother Terramyr has created a new race,” Rajeh said.
Guardian spirits of the world,” Njar said with breathless awe. “We have been favored today.” He then thought of Nonac, and his mind recalled the words which Dremathor had spoken. “Come, we should return home.” He walked away from the tree, Rajeh close behind, and opened a portal to Viverandon. He was overjoyed to see through the portal that everything was intact. The sun was shining brightly, for even though it was night in the valley were Dremathor’s tower had been, night and day behaved differently in Viverandon than in other places on Terramyr. The sun could be called upon at almost any time, according to the will of those living within Viverandon. Njar smiled as he saw satyr younglings playing in the fields.
“All is well,” Njar said. “All is well.”
They stepped through the portal, happy to return home victorious, and anxious to find a remedy for Nonac.
CHAPTER 13
By all accounts, Erik found Rafe to be a relatively ordinary man. He had long, black hair pulled into a single braid at the back of his head, spoke with an interesting northern accent, and no more looked like a daring adventurer than he did a simple fisherman. Yet, his skill with their ship was more than obvious. Rafe by himself could do what Gerald and his daughters did as a team, and he was faster at it. The ship was a little smaller than Gerald’s, about sixteen feet long with a single center mast, but it looked no less complicated to pilot than Gerald’s to Erik’s untrained eye. Rafe worked the rigging and the wheel without requesting help at all the first day. Erik couldn’t be sure how far they had traveled, but it seemed they were going much faster than Gerald’s ship. The prow of the ship almost bounced off the incoming waves as Rafe carried them across the water.
Lady Arkyn sat on a bench overlooking the starboard side of the ship, seemingly lost in thoughts. Given the lull in activity, Erik thought it appropriate to see what answers he could get about Captain Deringer. He went below deck and grabbed some bread and dried meats, along with a water skin, and then went to her.
She noticed him coming and offered a smile, but Erik could tell by the way her eyes seemed to remain fixed on a distant point that she was deep in thought.
“So, Captain Deringer seems to be a good man,” Erik said, hoping he was breaching the subject lightly enough.
“Subtlety is not your strong suit,” Lady Arkyn replied with a laugh. “If you want to know about him, just ask directly.”
He offered the waterskin, which she took and drank from. “You two have history,” Erik stated. “I was curious, that’s all.”
“It was a long time ago, in human terms at least.”
Erik took a bite of bread, chewed and swallowed, and then said, “Didn’t seem to be long enough for him.”
>
Lady Arkyn took a bit of dried meat and held it in her hand. “It wasn’t a long relationship. It was not even an entire summer. I was never as committed to it as he was. Sometimes men have a hard time letting go.”
“Or maybe that’s just your effect on us poor, helpless souls,” Erik teased as he took a drink.
“Ah, so now you think I have some sort of charm spells at my disposal?”
Erik smirked and closed the waterskin. “You charmed Deringer pretty well, me too I suppose.”
Minrielle fidgeted with her left glove. “So in the last couple of years, you haven’t changed your mind?” Lady Arkyn asked.
Erik shook his head. “No, why do you ask?”
Lady Arkyn shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because you asked me to give you some space. I wasn’t sure if that had more behind it than you let on. Four years of ‘space’ could be enough for a man to change his mind.”
Erik went quiet and looked out to the water. Wanting to be alone had indeed had many reasons behind it, but none of them had to do with her, exactly, at least not in the way she was making it sound. He had only wanted to keep her safe, and to keep her from seeing a part of him that he didn’t like, and wasn’t sure how to control or come to terms with. He tried to think of how to explain it as she watched him stare at the open sea.
“Did it?” Lady Arkyn pressed.
Erik shook his head. “Not in the way you think,” he said. “It was a lot of things, but mostly it was just me trying to understand who, or what, I was, and am. Like I mentioned back in Gontin.”
“Because of the war against Tu’luh?” she asked. “Many warriors have nightmares after such experiences. And, if you are talking about what Alkantar and the other demon said, then you already know my feelings on that. You are a man of good character. All of us struggle, but you will come out on top in the end.”
Erik nodded. “Not only that, but that is a large part of it. I am still worried about the Four Horsemen. I have this nagging feeling that they are going to come, and that there is nothing I can do to prevent that.”
“That will be long after our times have ended,” Lady Arkyn said.
Erik shook his head. “But that’s just it,” he started. “I am sahale, that means dragon blood flows through my veins. In very much the same way that you would outlive any man you chose to be your partner, I will live long after you have…” he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“Is that perhaps part of why you asked me to leave? You’re afraid of my death?”
“No,” Erik said with an exasperated sigh. “I’m not explaining it right. You and I have talked about life many times. I know that you, despite having a longer life span than humans, have learned to take joy in the moment, and not worry so much about the future. I am trying to do that as well. With you, I think I could be happy for as long as we’re together, but it is the fact that I will live for hundreds, maybe thousands of years beyond that which bothers me. You may not be here when the Four Horsemen come, but I very well may be. I have seen so much suffering already, I don’t want to watch the end of the world.”
“You mean, you don’t want to be helpless to stop it,” Lady Arkyn said.
Erik nodded. “More than that,” he said. “Sometimes, in my dreams, I actually help them destroy our homeland.”
“Preposterous,” Minrielle said quickly. “Those are just nightmares, nothing more than your own fears being processed by your mind while you sleep. You should not give them so much power over you.”
“I am trying to work out the problem as best I can,” Erik said. “But I have only been able to find a couple of clues here and there. So far, everything I see points to the fact that they are unbeatable. Even the gods shy away from their power. No one understands them, and no one can stop them.”
“So we take joy in the moment,” Minrielle said. “We do what we can to right the injustices of this world while we live, but we understand and accept that the end might come any day. Maybe today, maybe next week, or maybe a thousand years from now. The appointed time of its coming doesn’t matter nearly so much as how we live our lives in the meantime.” Erik smiled. He always felt better after talking to her. She smiled at him and took his hand. “You have people who love you back at Lokton Manor. Perhaps after this you should return home and see the good you have brought about there.”
Erik nodded. “That sounds good.”
“So,” Lady Arkyn started with a coy smile. “Do you have anyone in your past I should be aware of? After all, you were alone for four years.”
Erik laughed and nodded playfully. “There was this one orc princess, actually. She had great teeth and a wonderful set of muscular legs.”
“Oh!” Minrielle broke off a piece of bread and tossed it at Erik.
He responded by shrugging and taking another drink. “Her name was Griselda,” he added after he finished drinking.
“I’m sorry I asked,” Minrielle replied. “Don’t let me keep you from your green-skinned lover. Please, by all means, return to her arms once this is over. Just watch out for those tusks when you move in for a kiss.” Minrielle shook her head and looked out at the sea.
“No, I think I will go home, as you suggest,” Erik said.
“Oh, well, then take her there. I am sure Braun will be pleased to serve an orc mistress.”
Erik laughed again. “Actually, I was hoping you would join me,” he said. Erik reached out and took her left hand in his.
Before Lady Arkyn could respond, Rafe cut in with a warning shout.
“We are coming up on Natchy Moors. You two should get below deck.”
Erik gathered the food while Lady Arkyn sighed.
“I have always tried to avoid the Natchy Moors,” she said. “If we weren’t in such a hurry, I would have had us sail two days out to the west just to avoid them.”
“What are they?” Erik asked. “You didn’t mention them when we spoke with Captain Deringer or Rafe.”
“There is not a good explanation for them,” she replied. “To some, they are considered to be the manifestation of Hammenfein within the mortal realm. To others, they are considered cursed.”
“Neither sound like good choices,” Erik said as he looked off to the north. He could just make out a thick curtain of fog rising up from the waters near the far horizon.
“Come, we will need to do as Rafe says. Don’t worry, he has gone through them once. He’ll get us safely to the other side.”
Erik and Lady Arkyn quickly went below deck.
*****
Njar struggled to open his eyes. A terrible, high-pitched ringing assaulted his ears and his head was pounding. As he took in a breath, the air burned his lungs. His fur was matted to his skin with a thick coating of sweat, and blood trickled from his nose and lip.
What happened? Njar wondered. The last thing he remembered was stepping through the portal and… He rubbed his sore eyes and forced them open. The air was boiling hot against the soft tissue of his eyes. He recoiled and covered his face as he closed them against the pain. The burning in his nostrils and lungs grew worse as he continued to take in breaths. He began coughing and choking. His mouth was dry and all of his joints hurt. He couldn’t think clearly with the ringing in his ear growing louder. He tried to move his legs, and only then realized that he was lying on his side. He felt the ground with his hands and opened his eyes just narrowly enough to see the ground while avoiding the intense heat.
The earth below him was dry and covered with scorch marks. Ash swirled along the ground, driven by the currents caused by the high temperatures in the air. An ember landed on the back of Njar’s right hand. He stared at it blankly at first, and then shook it off when it melted some of his black fur.
Where am I? He got onto his hands and knees and then pushed up to a kneeling position. The difference in temperature he experienced on his head and neck compared with the lower parts of his body was astounding. If it was hard to breathe before, it was nearly impossible now. He lowered his
head toward the ground, fighting against the fit of coughs that beset him. After he regained control of his breath, he stayed low to the ground and looked around, forcing himself to open his eyes enough to see his surroundings.
There was a ditch of some sort a few meters ahead of him. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. He crawled toward it, curious about its familiarity. As he peered down from the side, he saw a sliver of water at the bottom of the ditch. This had been a stream of some sort.
He looked up along the length of the ditch and saw a pair of cement footings. They were both cracked and broken, but he knew they had once held a bridge. He looked to the other side of the ditch and saw another two footings, although in worse shape than the closer pair.
Everything looked so familiar. He was sure he knew the place. He turned around, but saw only a vast, open stretch of dry land. There were no plants or buildings of any kind. There were wisps of smoke rising from the ground and smaller piles of ash lining the dirt in various places, but nothing recognizable.
Njar tried to summon a protective shell around himself, but his magic failed him.
“Too tired,” Njar told himself absently. He slowly rose to a standing position, giving himself several seconds with each couple of inches he moved upward so he could try to adjust to the intense heat of the air. When he finally was upright, he held a hand before his eyes and spun around in place. The land was so foreign to him. Smoke and vapors rose up from the ground, riding the great thermal energy upward to the gray sky. There were no animals or structures that he could see, but yet he felt as though he should understand where he was.
He walked away from the ditch for several meters, searching for any clue of what had gone wrong. The last thing he remembered was the portal. He had been on his way home. Rajeh had been with him.
“Rajeh!” Njar called out.
