by deSouza, Leo
“Get off, nasty creature!” Said Torag whisking his hands in the air towards the fairy.
“She is not on you, Torag. It seems she likes Olaf.” Said Altar.
The fairy moved left and right as fast as lightning, then came towards Olaf and stood still right in front of his nose, the dwarf prepared his hands to smash it with his palms, but before he could do it, the fairy kissed his nose. The other dwarfs laughed.
“Oh get off of my face!” Said Olaf whisking. “Let’s continue.” He stepped forward, the others also started walking again.
As the journey continued, Olaf came to know that the fairy would not leave him alone so easily, the creature came after the dwarf, circling and messing with his hair. The travel through the grove took the entire morning and when it was about noon, they stopped for another meal. There were the four dwarfs and Altar sitting on the ground around a bonfire again. The fairy kept some distance from the fire for a while, and then finally sat on Olaf’s shoulder, she stood there braiding the dwarf’s hair.
“She will not leave you anymore.” Said Altar as he stirred the bonfire with a stick.
Meat was being roasted on it, Rurur found some mushrooms next to the road, and was now wiping them. Olaf reached for an empty bottle, the one where once was mead, he took a strand of hair from his own head and dropped it inside the glass, the fairy went after it and entered the bottle too, and in a quick move the dwarf put the stopper in the hole, closing it. The fairy flounced and then stood still, looking at Olaf, vexed.
“This one is not going anywhere.” Said the dwarf flicking the bottle glass.
“Leave it on the road, the small devil will die suffocated.” Spoke Torag after a bite on a piece of meat.
“I don’t think she will suffocate, not this creature.” Said Altar.
“Keep the bottle, we can come to need it.” Said Thuor.
“How by the skies could we come to need this tricky devil?” Exclaimed Olaf.
“Not the fairy ye stupid chicken head, the bottle!” Spoke. Torag with his harsh voice.
Olaf could swear that he noticed some sadness on the face of the fairy. After the meal the group left again, they travelled all the afternoon; in some moments clouds came bringing rain and refreshing the air, but never covering the sun completely, that gave the scene a colorful look as the sunbeams glanced on the water drops coming from the sky and dropping from the leaves, for there were some flowers and different tones of color from the leaves. Winter was hitting, but this grove seemed to be a place of eternal spring. From time to time Thuor talked to Altar, they discussed about the route and the things that could happen ahead, but the other dwarfs were not that mindful to it, they were attracted by the woods around, its many trees and dwellers, like insects and even small squirrels. When sunset came, they noticed a change in the landscape, the trees had become scattered and a clear land opened up ahead.
“We are leaving the grove, and we are very close to the tomb.” Said Altar as he stopped and rested his hands on his staff.
“Where to now?” Asked Thuor.
“Not along the road, there is a small path, somewhere…” Replied Altar moving slowly around and looking at the ground.
The sun was gone and now there were just a few rays of its light coming from beyond the horizon, the sky darkened and the first stars began to appear.
“Oh! It is here!” Said Altar pointing his staff to the ground.
The dwarfs looked out and saw there a small narrow trail, like a path made by footsteps, not much more than a clean way between grass tufts.
“So…” Said Torag looking around as he rested his hands on his belt. “Time to have a talk with this Rider, I have some suggestions for him, that is for sure, if ye know what I mean.”
“Not now!” Said Altar. “We should rest now, and wait for the best time.”
“And what time would be it, master Altar?” Asked Olaf.
Altar replied: “Midnight… Dawn… This is when we should go.”
“May I ask how ye know this?” Asked Torag.
“You should trust me, for I know what I’m talking about. It is a good choice to wait for the right time, the moment when he will be more, pervious… But this is not something for you to understand now!” Said Altar.
Rurur untied a bag from the saddle and dropped it on the ground. “Pervious ye say. Right on, it is about time to eat anyway, and a good rest for these legs would be welcome.”
The dwarfs gathered and arranged stuff on the ground to eat one more time, Rurur was still curious about the taste of that meal that Altar had. As they ate, the fairy was flouncing inside the bottle, from time to time Olaf looked at her.
“You should let her free.” Said Altar.
Olaf slightly smiled as he chewed. “She is good inside there.”
The fairy was emitting a slight light.
“She is like a firefly.” Said Rurur looking at her.
After the meal everyone leaned back against the ground and sat for a while looking at the fire, Altar and Thuor picking their teeth, Torag and Olaf belching and rubbing their bellies, and Rurur doing both. Some time passed and no one said anything, the only sound being heard came from crickets and owls, an uncomfortable silence only broken by Altar, when he finally spoke: “Well… My fellow dwarfs. Now I have something for you.” He said taking something out from his pack.
It was a bottle, and inside it a green liquid that somehow looked fluorescent, at least in the bonfire light. Altar threw the bottle to Torag, the dwarf caught it in the air.
“Have a drink.” Said the old man.
Torag looked at the bottle and read the label. “Attitude, what kind of beverage is called Attitude?” He asked.
“It is a special one, prepared by me myself.” Said Altar.
Torag looked at the bottle again, then removed the stopper and was about to drink when Rurur shouted: “Don’t drink it! It is poison!”
Altar frowned. “Poison! How do you dare?”
“Yes! How can we know if ye are not trying to poison us?” Insisted Rurur. “That’s it! Ye waited for the right time, ye got our confidence, and now ye will poison us!”
“That is most outrageous!” Altar exclaimed.
“Well... I’m not the one kind of dwarf who goes around drinking strange beverages, from strangers. No offense, master Altar.” Said Olaf.
Torag nodded, he put the stopper again in the bottle and threw it back to Altar.
“This is defamatory, one can’t even gently offer a drink.” Said Altar taking the bottle.
“They have a point here, Altar. Not that we found ye dubious, but a dwarf is a cautious kind, and much camaraderie and partnership is necessary before sitting to share a drink like this.” Said Thuor.
Altar grumbled. “So be it.” He said and then started to drink the beverage in the bottle himself. “Ahh…” He exhaled.
Then he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and held the bottle out towards Torag again. The dwarf shrugged and took the bottle, taking a gulp, he frowned after drinking and then nodded as if saying that the taste was good. “Tastes like mead, but a little more sweet. And it is invigorating!” He reached the bottle to Olaf who took it.
“Why not?” Asked Olaf before drinking. He frowned and exhaled, then nodded and looked to Rurur passing the bottle to him.
“Oh not me. I’m done with beverage.” Said Rurur.
“What about ye, captain?” Asked Olaf reaching the bottle to him.
“Some of us must keep sane, just in case.” Said Thuor.
Olaf shrugged and took another gulp.
“Give it me here.” Said Torag reaching out, he drank again. “What is it?
“A mixture of mead and other fermented, and some special ingredients added by me. Now give me it here.” Said Altar taking the bottle from Torag’s hand. “It is enough for now.”
For a while everyone sat silent again, the dwarfs were waiting for Altar’s warning for them to get ready and follow him to the tomb, specially Olaf and Torag
, who despite the entire day of travelling, where now feeling quite jaunty, from time to time they looked at each other and smiled. Night advanced, and then Altar finally stood up and spoke: “Well... My fellow friends. I believe it is about time for us to leave towards our destiny and…”
“Yes!” Torag interrupted. “And have a meeting with this dread subject. Oh yes it’s time, I could not wait more.”
“You seem pretty willing, Torag.” Said Altar.
“And who is not?” Said Olaf so loudly that it made Thuor and Rurur wake up from their naps.
“Good. Then come, my friends, for it is time for us to unveil at once this mystery.” Spoke Altar.
Everyone rose, they prepared to leave.
The Ivory Tombs.
Back on the road again, the group was now approaching its destination, Altar was leading the company through the darkness of the grove, holding a torch with one hand, Thuor came right at his side. As they advanced the atmosphere became more and more silent, as if suddenly all the night creatures of the woods had withdrawn into their dens. The ground became darker and the trees contorted and dry, the grove turned into a sinister place, the shadows cast by the torch danced among the trunks like curtains stirred by the wind. The silence was so deep that besides the footsteps, they could also hear their own breathing.
“It’s getting cold.” Whispered Rurur.
“I feel nothing. Actually, I fell quite heated.” Olaf replied.
“I’m telling ye… That does not seem natural, it is too cold, and silent.” Rurur continued.
“And dark...” Broke in Torag. “Look at this darkness... It seems like a veil being ripped up by the torch light, it’s dense, and unnatural. I don’t care anyway.”
“What if this soothsayer is really a rogue taking us to a trap?” Asked Olaf, not being heard by Altar.
“Well... Then I'll have some scores to settle with him before the end of this.” Said Torag quietly.
The ram was visibly scared by the darkness, and sometimes unwilling to step forward.
“Don’t worry Jewelry, none will mess with ye.” Said Rurur stroking the animal’s neck. He searched for a canteen of water on the saddle and found it easily due to something he was not counting on. The fairy inside the glass bottle was emitting a pale white light, enough for lightening a small area around. The ambience around began to change even more, the tree trunks were now dark, and the trees themselves twisted, some of them were rotten and their dead branches had a sinister appearance.
“I cannot even see a span out of my eyes without this torch. I feel like walking on the void.” Rurur said.
“On the void... That is an interesting thing to say. Our host would have some things to say about it, anyway we are about to meet him, the tomb is right ahead.” Said Altar as he walked supported by his staff.
The group followed the road and went around a curve amongst some trees, then they could see a slope going down ahead, down there a large clearing, and in its center a building, the strangest building that anyone in the group had ever seen, except for Altar. They stopped walking.
“There it is, the Ivory Tombs” Said Altar.
It was a large building, and had just a ground floor, its architecture was strange for this region of the world, for no man, dwarf or any other kind built things like that these days.
“This place was built long ago, by the kings of yore, kings among men, long gone. Built to keep their fallen ones, their fallen champions and sovereigns.” Altar spoke.
“So it is a mausoleum, a grave… A sepulcher.” Whispered Torag, he had his eyes staring at the building with fascination.
“Where does this light comes from?” Asked Olaf.
“I was about to ask this.” Said Rurur.
Everyone could notice a strange light coming from the building, not from its entrance or windows, but from its bare walls, as if the structure itself was emitting some kind of radiation, a pale white light radiating around the building, strange to the dwarfs’ eyes, and quite sinister.
“A cold light it is.” Said Torag.
“Talk about cold, my bones are about to crack.” Said Olaf.
Is this the place you saw in your dream, Olaf?” Altar asked.
Olaf nodded and replied: “Yes, it is the place.”
They noticed steam coming from their mouths as they talked.
“Come, let’s get closer.” Said Altar motioning and stepping ahead.
The group went down the slope and approached the tomb. There was an arch as entrance and inside it nothing but complete darkness. Thuor looked up and noticed that the sky was clear, he could see stars and the moon itself. “The moon is there, maybe the light is coming from it.” He said pointing up.
Altar pointed to the ground. “Look at your shadows, they are not made by any light coming from up.” He said.
The dwarfs looked down to the shadows and saw that he was telling the truth.
“It gets more and more strange.” Said Torag.
“So the rider is there inside?” Asked Rurur.
“He is, I know it.” Olaf replied.
“Well, all right. Who goes first?” Asked Rurur putting his hands on hips.
“You must go there. First.” Said Altar.
“What?” Asked Rurur. “No way master soothsayer, it seems much too suspicious to me!”
“Yes, what is this about at all? Ye said nothing about us entering this place by ourselves.” Said Thuor.
Altar shook his head. “I cannot go in, there is a blockage.”
“What type of blockage? I see no door, nor lock.” Said Thuor.
“It is not a physical blockage, it is there, even if you cannot see it.” Said Altar.
“This is not a good moment for riddles.” Said Thuor with an inquisitive look.
“Witchcraft!” Said Altar. “A powerful magic blocking the entrance, but it only works for folks like me, for it is a dark magic, to avoid light entering. But you can get in, that is why I must count on you for this task, dwarfs are more resistant to magic, stubbornness is not something to be underestimated.”
“Whatever, I’m going in. I will be the first one to have a talk with this rider.” Said Torag stepping on the first step of a small stair that led to the entrance.
“I’m still not liking it.” Rurur said.
“Ye folks talk too much.” Said Olaf advancing toward the entrance, he stepped in with no hesitation and passed under the arch, standing inside the entrance, covered by the darkness there, almost unseen, then he turned back and motioned to the others. “Ye see? No witchcraft can stop the old Olaf!”
“He seems quite fearless.” Said Rurur.
“It’s the effect of the beverage I gave you. Attitude is its name, you should all drink.” Said Altar.
“No, master Altar. We don’t know each other that well yet, it is better that some of us remain without drinking this.” Said Thuor, he looked to Torag and Rurur. “I’m going in, none of ye must come after me if ye don’t want.” He said.
“I’m going too.” Said Rurur.
“What are we waiting for?” Spoke Torag.
“What about the ram?” Asked Rurur. “Jewelry surely doesn’t want to go inside there.”
They looked at the animal and noticed it was frightened and wavering.
“I can take care of him here outside. You go there and unlock the witchcraft, then you can leave, and the rest of the job is up to me.” Said Altar.
“Will we trust leaving Jewelry with him?” Asked Rurur.
Thuor looked at Altar for a moment, then spoke: “Alright. Ye stay here outside with the ram. Now tell me, what is this lock about?”
“The witchcraft is kept by some form of powering, there must be some kind of object, an artifact, enchanted to emanate the force for keeping the passage blocked.” Said Altar.
“And what object is this?” Asked Thuor.
“It could be anything, but you will recognize it when you see, that is for sure. Under the charming the object becomes diff
erent than anything around, you must look for it.” Said Altar.
“And then do what?” Asked Rurur.
“Break it! It should not be difficult, a witchcraft can be strong against many things, but will not resist a good blow from a strong arm.” Said Altar.
“Right.” Said Thuor. “What about the Rider? What if we meet him?” Asked Thuor.
“You should avoid him at all costs.” Said Altar looking into the entrance as if suddenly remembering the matter which they came to deal with. But rather than a rider he saw Olaf under the arch, smiling as if in joy for the adventure he was about to participate in, his eyes shining like two jewels in the darkness. “Listen to me.” Continued Altar. “You don’t know the nature of this rider yet, but I can tell you he is not someone you could deal with easily, you must be careful. Break the locking and get out, leave the rest with me.”
Thuor nodded. “Anyway, if he is really there inside, where is his mount, the flying beast?”
“Well... Considering that such a beast cannot go inside this place, I would say it is flying around.” Said Altar.
Torag squinted with his malicious smile. “This is the perfect time for us to meet the scoundrel. He is defenseless without his monstrous body guard.”
“I would not say he is defenseless.” Said Altar.
“Enough of talking! My hands are scratching and my axe lays restless in my belt!” Exclaimed Torag.
“Right, let’s go inside.” Said Thuor motioning to the others and moving towards the arch.
Torag approached the ram’s saddle and took from there the gems, putting them in his pocket. “Just in case…” He whispered.
Altar lit his own torch and stayed outside with the ram and the hawk. The dwarfs joined Olaf who was already under the arch and entered the tomb, Thuor came first, lighting the place with his fire, right ahead they could only see a narrow corridor and a staircase leading down. The group went downstairs, the light from the torch licking the walls of the corridor, at the end of the staircase they reached a flat area and still ahead lay the corridor, they could not say how long it was as the darkness was total. Thuor walked quietly while holding his warhammer, the others came after him in a row, everyone was carrying his own weapon, Rurur with his mattock, Olaf holding his shield and axe, and Torag had a small axe in his hand, but his crossbow was hanging on his back. As they advanced they felt as if the corridor was getting even narrower, there were no doors nor any passages but the corridor itself. It wasn’t until it turned a curve that they saw light coming from its end.
