by Levi Samuel
Thousands of pin-pricks punctured Inyalia’s hands and face. It burned her exposed skin. Crushing pressure constricted her entire body. She couldn’t move. She was trapped. Trapped between vicious shadows and growing fear. She could feel them, whatever they were. They were cold, malicious, hungry. Whispers filled her mind, undecipherable voices burrowing into her soul. Inyalia collapsed to the frozen earth, her arms wrapped around her knees. She was going to die here. There was no doubt of that. And to make matters worse, she hadn’t even completed her first trial yet.
A soft glow formed around her. The shadows shrieked in retreat, trying desperately to avoid the burning light. Tear-filled eyes searched the fleeing darkness, looking for the source of her salvation. A heavy thump shook the ground. Inyalia felt it in her body. She stared into the blue glow, uncertain if she was safe. It stopped the shadows from ripping her to pieces, but what towered over her was much more frightening.
Pearl-white scales shimmered from the calm deep breaths of the massive reptile. Each time its chest fell, the iridescent plating flexed revealing an icy-blue glow. The thick onyx talons churned the dirt where the weight had embedded them. The leathery white wings were folded neatly behind its wide torso, though they were too large to pass out of sight.
Inyalia trailed the glowing form from its beating chest, up the slender spiny neck, and finally to its horned head. The brilliant blue eyes stared compassionately at her, pupils narrow and tall, larger than her entire body. This was the dragon that rested atop the sanctum. Only somehow bigger.
“Do not be afraid child. I mean you no harm.”
Inyalia heard the words in her mind as much as she felt them in her backside. They were strong yet forgiving. But what surprised her most, they were feminine. “Who—Who are you?” The question hung on her lips. A dragon telling her not to be afraid was like telling someone not to look. Nature enforced the exact opposite.
“My name is Alonandrensal. But you may call me Alona. Tell me, child, what are you doing out here? Are you not aware the dangers these mountains represent?”
Inyalia picked herself up. She was terrified, but that would remain whether she was lying on her back or standing on her feet. Staring intently at the great beast, she realized her sweating had stopped. Her heart was no longer racing. And, somehow, the moon had returned to the sky. But with the lingering perspiration, the cold was causing her to shiver. That and the crippling fear. The fear certainly had something to do with it. “I’m headed to Thayer Outpost. The rangers sent me to deliver a message. It’s part of my trials.”
Alona shook her head in an almost human manner. Releasing a sigh, the dragon tucked her legs beneath her, reminiscent of a giant cat, and plopped down. “Elves! Always testing one another. I once saw a father toss his child into a lake in an attempt to teach it to swim. The child did, but there was a moment I thought otherwise.” Reaching to her chin, one of the massive talons extended and gently scratched between the dense scales.
“Forgive me for asking, and believe me when I say I’m grateful you got rid of those things, but what— I’m sorry, why are you here?” Her fear was lessening. There was something about the mammoth beast that reassured her safety. Yet the sheer size of it was worthy of terror.
“Those things, as you called them, are trapped souls. This realm is unique from the others I’ve seen. There is no natural order here. We, The Seven Keys, were brought here to fill that void in an artificial capacity. But, as with all things, when one neglects their duties the machine ceases to function properly.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“One day, sooner than you realize, my words will make sense. But until then, just know that I offer my apologies. I should have trapped those souls long ago. It was my fault they attacked you. As repentance, please allow me to offer you a gift. May it lead your way when all seems lost.” The glow beneath Alona’s pearl scales grew vibrant, near blinding in the dark night. It expanded, wrapping around the young elf.
Inyalia felt the cold leave her. A calm replaced her fear, drowning the lingering doubts inside her. For the first time in a long time, she was truly at peace. And suddenly, as quick as the glow had enveloped her, Inyalia was standing alone on the eastern pass. There were no shadows to be repelled by the faint glow emanating from her. The soft rays of moonlight lit the way, better than any torch could. In the distance, Inyalia heard the flap of large leathery wings.
The remainder of the journey didn’t take any time at all now that she could see where she was going. Along the mountain pass, she could see the glow of civilization. Thayer Outpost was settled in an alcove between two of the mountain’s roots. It was of fair size, larger than a village, but smaller than a city, and still not quite a town. Sharpened posts comprised the outer wall, blocking out all sight with the exception of a few thatch roofs. There were two however that stood much taller, suggesting a second floor.
Inyalia approached the sealed gate, looking up at the elf on watch. His eyes locked onto her and he signal below.
“Welcome Ranger. Will you be staying long?”
Inyalia was caught off-guard by the title. She hadn’t prepared for it yet. And now that it was thrown upon her, all she could do was smile.
The watchman cleared his throat and spoke again. “Will you be staying long?”
Pulled from her glee by the vocal grumblings, Inyalia replied. “I’m uncertain to the length of my stay. I’m here to deliver word from Dragon Sanctum. Are there any rangers inside I might speak with?”
The gate began to groan as it opened. “Only one to my knowledge. You’ll find him at the inn. Last table to the right. Follow this road. It’s the first two-story building you’ll come across.”
“Thank you.” Inyalia stepped inside and marched toward her destination. She heard the gate close behind her. The security of this place seemed odd. There was no real threat as far as she knew. Why did they bother closing the gate? But then again, she’d literally just been attacked not an hour prior. Perhaps they were more justified than she knew.
Reaching the inn, Inyalia heard several voices before she neared the door. For such a small settlement, it seemed quite chaotic. Everyone in town had to be here. Approaching the wooden barrier, she grabbed hold of the bronze handle and pulled. The stale odor of pipe smoke and ale rolled out the door, assaulting her nostrils. Flickering light illuminated her face, and the numerous conversations quieted to see who was entering. Though it didn’t last long. They resumed almost immediately, realizing it was no one of importance.
Inyalia stepped inside, taking in the full visage of the tavern before her. She’d never been in one, but it was about how she’d imagined it. Lots of people talking and having a merry time. Tables filled with people playing cards. Subtle music lingering in the background, and a long bar, topped in granite, that ran the entire length of the wall. Though this bar was topped in wood.
Inyalia noticed a half-elf behind the bar, wiping the counter with a rag. She didn’t see many of his kind, though it was more frequent than seeing a human. Half-elves were often shunned by certain noble families. It wasn’t right as far as she was concerned, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.
Glancing around the room, Inyalia took note of a narrow hall that extended past the bar. At its entrance, where the row of staggered circular tables ended, there was a set of stairs that rounded the corner and disappeared into shadow.
Turning her attention toward the people, she was surprised by how many could fit in here. It wasn’t crowded but it remained the largest collection she’d seen in months. The majority of the population was made of elves. There was no surprise there. But there were also about half a dozen half-elves, including the barkeep. And shockingly, three humans engaged in a card game. Finding the last table to the right, Inyalia spotted the elf she sought. And he apparently knew who she was, as his gaze was locked intently upon her.
She studied his armor as she cut through the crowd. It wasn’t as fancy as ma
ny of the others. In fact, it was relatively simple. There were no flashy additions or really anything out of the ordinary. The browns were dulled from use, and the hardened material appeared broken down and worn near the joints. The only real way to describe it was rough and neglected, but still functional, much like the elf wearing it. Despite his less than enthusiastic appearance, Inyalia still knew what she was looking at. There was no mistaking the sigil displayed across his left collar guard. This elf was a lieutenant. And given he was the only one in town, he was her lieutenant. Though there was one part of his insignia she did not expect.
Making her way across the room, Inyalia approached the elf. Without word, she extended her hand bearing the encrypted missive.
The elf took it, keeping his eyes locked on hers. Unfolding the thin vellum, he broke his gaze and quickly scanned the words. “I see. Well done, recruit. Take a seat.” As if the chair beside him obeyed the command, it shot out from beneath the table, its wooden legs sliding gently across the wax planked floor.
Inyalia unwrapped her cloak and sat, allowing it to rest comfortably beneath her. She stared in silence, awaiting word. She had no idea what she was supposed to do now. Moreover, why had her father sent her to a wild elf?
A slight smirk formed on his otherwise stern face. He pulled a glass vial from the leather pouch resting along his belt. Laying it on the table in front of her, he studied her face, seeming to read what she was thinking. “It doesn’t appear you need this, but it’s better to be safe. Drink up.”
Inyalia popped the cork and swallowed the contents.
“As I’m sure you know by now, the first vial you drank is known to cause a number of effects, including hallucinations, paranoia, and occasional memory loss. In fact, most people never remember drinking it to begin with. So, I have to ask. How did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“I hadn’t expected you until tomorrow evening at minimum. Even then, you would still be showing signs of influence. Yet here you are, calm and collected. The only way that should be possible is if you’ve ingested the contents of the antidote I just gave you. My current theories are, you acquired another, or you possibly made your own with an advanced knowledge of herbalism. So, I ask again, how did you do it?”
“I assure you, prior to the one you just gave me, I’ve had no such potion. It was unnaturally dark. I was terrified. There were all these— things surrounding me. I didn’t know how much more I could take. And that’s when the dragon showed up.”
The elf leaned against the back of his chair. He glanced around the room, making sure no one was listening. “A dragon?” A soft chuckle escaped him.
“Yes. She said her name was Alonezara, or something like that.”
The elf smiled in disbelief, though there was something in her voice that suggested honesty. “You? You met the white queen?” Shaking his head, he sighed. “I guess that’s an explanation. Though I’m surprised. She rarely chooses to interfere with our affairs. A few have reported seeing her high above the mountains on a cloudless day. But, to my knowledge, none have spoken with her since the first elves settled here—.” He cut himself off, seemingly lost in thought.
Inyalia waited several moments in silence before speaking. “So, perhaps you can answer a question for me?”
He waved his hand, granting permission.
“Forgive me for being so blunt, but why did my father pick a wild elf?”
His smile grew as he nodded to her question. “Yes. Because wild elves are lesser than all the rest of you highborn nobles.”
“I don’t mean it like that.”
“Sure, you do. You wouldn’t care about my status if you didn’t. But, to answer your question, your father chose me because I’ve earned his trust. He knows I’ll perform my duties to the best of my ability, and he believes you have the potential to learn from me. But anyways, where are my manners? My name is Tylor Caer’Moor. As I’m sure you’ve already gathered, I’m a Ranger-Lieutenant. Though my rank will have little impact on our relationship. Using my wild elf status, I serve the corps outside the traditional means. I can go places others cannot, and if things go bad, nobody, including your father, can be held accountable for my actions. While we’re together, it will be my job to assess your abilities, and ensure you become the best ranger you can be. Only after my job is complete, will you be formally invited into the ranks and assigned to a unit. Do you have any questions?”
Hanging on each word, committing them to memory, Inyalia nearly missed the prompt. “Um, no?”
“Very well. Eat, drink, and be merry. I’ll arrange a room for you tonight. Tomorrow your training officially begins.”
Chapter V
The Path to Enlightenment
Floorboards creaked just outside Inyalia’s door. Her eyes shot open, hearing a soft rap against the wooden barrier. She glanced out the single window, realizing it was still dark. Quickly, she sat up, swinging her legs off the bed. The wood was cold against her bare feet. Grabbing her dagger from the table, Inyalia wrapped her cloak tightly and approached the door. Carefully, she unlatched and pulled it toward her. Lantern light pierced the darkness of her room. She saw Tylor standing just outside, fully dressed and ready to travel.
“Good morning. The sun will rise soon. Gather your things and meet me downstairs. We’ll have a quick breakfast before we head out.” Without another word, he spun and disappeared toward the stairs.
Inyalia closed the door, latching it behind her. She wasn’t used to being up so early. And her previous day’s travel had caught up with her. Yawning, she stretched her arms wide and approached the bed. Inyalia disrobed and lifted the shield from the lantern on the end table. The fire sticks rested beside it in a small canister. Grabbing one, she quickly struck it, watching the flame come to life. It released the scent of burning pine and sulfur. Carefully, she lit the wick of the lantern and adjusted it to light the room. Shaking the firestick, it went out with a wisp of smoke. She replaced the shield and laid her dagger on the table. She wasn’t ready to start. But that choice was no longer hers.
Exhaling sharply, Inyalia pulled her clothes and armor into place, ensuring they were coupled properly. Positioning her quiver, she wrapped the heavy cloak around her and slung the pack over her shoulder. With a final look around the room, Inyalia grabbed the rest of her effects and twisted the knob on the lamp. The flame shrunk and disappeared. Making her way across the room, Inyalia opened the door and stepped into the lantern lit hallway.
Hurrying down the stairs, she was surprised to find only three people in the large room. An elf stood behind the bar, casually wiping out the previous night’s mugs. One by one, he stacked them on a shelf. Another elf was kicked back in a heavy leather-bound chair. She hadn’t seen it the night before, but that area was fairly crowded. The elf was staring intently into the fire pit, his back to her. Inyalia could only see the tips of his ears, and what appeared to be a rather thick book opened somewhere near the midpoint, though he clearly wasn’t reading it. And lastly, Tylor sat at the table he’d occupied the night before. A wooden platter sat in front of him filled with sliced meat, eggs, and toast. A similar platter rested where Inyalia had been sitting.
Tylor nodded to the young elf descending the bottom steps. He gestured to the chair beside him and slid the undisturbed platter closer to the edge.
Inyalia took a seat and dug in. It was a simple meal, rather bland as far as spice went. She’d grown accustomed to the meals her mother made. Even the food at Dragon Sanctum was pretty good. This was extremely poor by comparison. How anyone could mess up meat and eggs was a mystery, yet somehow they’d managed. Even the toast was burnt completely through. It was like they weren’t even trying. But, if she could force it down, it’d sate her for a while. Worst case scenario, she still had about half a bag of the dried meats, fruits, and cheese her mother had given her. And if that failed, the sanctum had supplied her with a week’s worth of rations.
Taking a long draw from his tankard, Tylor slammed i
t down next to his plate. It clapped against the wooden tabletop and echoed through the near empty pub. Belching loudly, he turned and addressed Inyalia, speaking as if no one else mattered. “We have a long journey ahead of us. If all goes accordingly, we’ll make camp just before nightfall and set out again at first light.”
Nodding her understanding, Inyalia scooped the overcooked eggs onto the burnt toast and blackened meat. That was the only way she could get enough moisture to cut it. Even then it was difficult. Taking as large a bite as she dared, Inyalia suffered through the gritty mixture and swallowed. It clung to the back of her throat. She tipped back her mug in a desperate attempt to wash it down. The sour concoction did little to aid her, but at least it went down. The entire experience was dreadful. But the quicker it was gone, the quicker she could forget about it.
They finished their breakfast in silence and made for the gate. Inyalia recognized it from the night before. She hoped they weren’t heading back toward the sanctum. If so, why did she waste the energy to come here? Containing her concern, she looked to the elf standing atop the gate. He was also the same. But that part made sense. After all, she’d only been here a few hours.
“Good morning, Tylor. Heading out?”
“That we are. Would you mind opening the gate?”
“Of course. Terrence, wake up and open the gate!” The watchman shouted from his perch. After a long moment the wooden gate began to creak open. “Damn fool’s always sleeping on the job. Ancients forbid we ever have a real need. My apologies for the delay. Any idea when you’ll be back?”
Tylor gestured toward the opening. “After you.” Returning his attention to the watchman, he started forward. “It’s hard to say. Though when I do, I’ll be sure to swing by. Always a pleasure seeing your wife and my kids.”
