by James Day
Morning came with a sunrise that glowed a pinkish purple, with gray clouds and breaks of blue sky. The company was ready to leave for Galway. The provisions were packed, and the horses saddled. They would stop there and then move on with task at hand. Prince Alec and King Grandur said their goodbyes as Noleann kissed her daughter and told her to be a good girl for her grandfather and uncle.
Unseen by anyone else, the company left in the rising mists of the morning.
FIVE
Just after morning, a lonely dark figure walked through the timberlands in solitude. He was a tall thin man wrapped in a black hooded cowl. His features were hidden in the morning light. He entered the woods and went off the dilapidated track. He traversed between ferns and the wildflowers as puffy clouds went by. A storm was beginning to brew from the west, traveling east. He carried a steel rod staff and encased by entwining dragons was a white, clear orb, but something red stirred within. He was pale and brown eyes watched for any unforeseen travelers, but none were seen. A short cut beard was cleanly edged on his face. He had not remembered the last time he had been this far south. He strode along, his boots crushing in the soft pieces of shale and rocks that lined the broken path. Up ahead was a cave with a large burned mound in front of it. Dark thunderheads rolled in with a whipping wind as green leaves blew from the gale force. It began raining as he sheltered just underneath the cave in front of the Fae Mound. Instantly red Silverthreads came to him in droves and buzzed around his ears, whispering their findings to him. They told him all of the secrets they had found out about the Elves and the heirs of Shannon. He was given the truth about the quest and the defeat of the Fire Imps. He sat calmly listening to them biding his time. He knew of their journey to Galway and their intent on finding the Red Faeriestone. The man thought about such power and how the stones would turn the tide of the oncoming Faerie War. He would have absolute power. Then they told him of the search for the Hearthstone Sword, and he grew angry and swatted them away. His little minions flew throughout the Six Providences and there was nothing he did not know. He wanted them to pay dearly for what had been taken from him. He wanted the Mystics to suffer. He nearly gloated to himself as lightning struck all about the forests. A whirlwind storm blew as the timbers bent and he pulled the cowl closer to him. He did not need to start a fire, there was no time. He had control of the Fae temporarily and it had been given with a price, his very soul. He had pledged himself to Sovereign Lord of Darkness, the evil one that controlled the underworld and the dark magic. He would please his master with a new attempt at stopping their lives before crippling and weakening the Elves and their lands. He would steal their magic and use it against them. He would put the Kingdom of Shannon under his rule. The Dark Fae would rule. He would also destroy the other faeries that warred against them. Oh, how he had tricked them all. Fooled him with his promises. He would enslave all and bring them to his knees. They would all bow before him and his master. The Six Providences would be engulfed in Dragon fire, but he had to wait for his power to grow. It was not given freely, and he had yet to master it. The orb spun around in red as he brought himself to an upright position. He took the steel rod staff and bent it forward at the mound. Fire erupted from the mound as a huge opening exploded and smoke and steam came forth with green glowing mist. A Fire Imp came scampered out and turned and waited, then moments later a whole pack stood before him on all fours awaiting his orders. But he was not done yet. Red and green fire exploded from the crystal as something huge and beastly came out. It was a Fae Wolf and they jumped and dodged by the droves. Huge beastly hairy creatures with fangs and a short muzzle, to sniff out prey. Large ears could hear for miles. They were big enough for a man to ride swiftly and just as fast as a horse. Then he extended the orb again as the pit became wide and deep and greenish mist swirled deep down within the pit. It was the Dark Fae mist, tinged with some red glow. Something half wolf and half elven came forth. It was the size of the Elf, agile and swift with pointed ears and red eyes. It wore black robes and long arms with claws. Others came out with it, the same race. It was the Wolven Elves. Once a race held in high regard but banished for raging war with the human elves. The Wolven Elves came out one after another and climbed onto the Fae Wolves. Each brandished a short glowing green sword. They did not need saddles; they were one with beasts. They stood quietly in a group and watched the man with steel staff orb. There was no going back for these creatures, they would fight to the death. A dark alliance had been struck, their freedom for the task of killing all of the group except the Mystic Dayven. He would be the last to die. He would enslave his foe and put him in chains. The others were expendable. The man spoke to the them and told them to hunt them down but wait. He did not want them dead right away. He wanted to be there to witness their destruction. His orb exploded in greenish red fire destroying one of the Fire Imps. The rest cowered and knew that they had to fulfill his wish. Only kill them when he gave the order. The leader of Wolven Elves spoke to him and told his master that his command would be followed. The Fire Imps understood as well. They were to track them at this time, not destroy them. More Fire Imps would be free to hunt in the countryside and destroy the farms and villages when the time came. The man gloated for a moment as his minions and how they would do his work. This time he controlled them. The man had a recollection of a long time ago of a boy who roamed the lands freely with his friends, but that had been stolen and destroyed. The man was once a boy named Jarret, but he now went by the name of the Dark Fae Warlock. He waved his steel rod staff and they scattered into the forests awaiting nightfall to do his bidding. Then the Dark Fae Warlock got up on a Fae Wolf and leapt down the broken path.
The Mystic Dayven and the company had stopped to rest in a thick wooded area as a storm raged on. It was a mid-morning storm that was fierce and cruel. The horses neighed in fear as their riders attempted to keep them calm. Winds blew timbers over as oaks fell onto the forest floor. He had never seen such a storm arise and wondered if it was an ill omen. Then a cool breeze came through and thick sticky humidity dissipated as a cool wind blew. The thunderheads rolled overhead, and the rain continued coming down furiously. The riders rested their legs and ate some bread and cheese as they waited for the storm to pass. The Spellmaker Llyendrie went over to the She-Elf Warrior Shydrie and made light conversation as they pulled their hunting cloaks close. The rain was beginning to saturate everything and the company’s spirit waned. Prince Grandur Princess Noleann Bounty Hunter spoke for a little while trying make light of the predicament. They told jokes and she explained that she missed hugging her daughter in the morning. The Spellmakers remained quiet as the one named Hickory came up to the She-Elf Warrior.
“I sense something evil,” he spoke directly to the both of them while looking around. “Something evil is coming. The others are worried because they sensed an expansive power. Whatever hunts us is now released.”
Mystic Dayven overheard them speaking and came up to them. “Are you sure?”
“I sensed it too,” Spellmaker Llyendrie replied with a nod.
“Then we must continue our journey and keep our eyes open. We have been at a disadvantage since the beginning. The red Silverthreads are minions of some dark magic. We will continue our journey and watch closely. We will not sleep until we get to Galway.”
Noleann walked over, “We will be in good hands once my men join us. They are a rough breed, but very loyal to me and the Kingdom. They cherish gold and there is plenty of that. They will be paid well.”
“Paid assassins,” Shydrie said with some annoyance. “We should have taken an Elven Army. We are not protected against the Fire Imps as well as we should be. We need Elves with bows who can strike down those monsters before they even get near us. My Elven Archers would have done the trick.”
“Do not doubt our three guardsman, they are silent and do not talk. They only protect and they have perfected all of their skills. They are up to the task,” the Bounty Huntress turned to see Prince Grandur speaking w
ith them as they nodded and said little.
The She-Elf Warrior did not say a word, she took her bow and arrow out, turned and released it right at the three guardsman. Prince Grandur was thrown to the side as a shield came up and bolt struck into it. The other two had their arrows pointed at the She-Elf Warrior. “Impressive, I didn’t think they had it in them. Let us hope they are just as good with whatever magic the Dark Fae throw at us.”
Prince Grandur rose and walked over to the three. Anger was in his eyes and his face was flushed as tried to hold back his temper. Noleann patted him on the shoulder and smiled. She handed him a gold coin as he smiled and walked away.
“What was that all about?” The She-Elf Warrior asked.
“Oh, we made a bet that you would test the guardsman. I told him he was crazy, but he told me that Elves are a curious bunch. They need to see sometimes before they believe. It appears he was right.” Noleann handed her the gold coin. “Keep as an act of faith, we will protect you when the time comes.” She walked over to the four men.
“That was uncalled for,” Llyendrie said as he looked at the Mystic Dayven who stood there silently.
“There is something I must go and do. Will the both of you excuse me.” Dayven walked over to Dunnganon and whispered in his ear. The Boy-Mystic nodded and they both began walking away from the group into the forest.
The two Mystics strode through the ferns and hills before they came to some cut timbers. An old broken down home remained burned and charred. A past memory of someone’s life.
The Boy-Mystic journeyed along the side of the timbers examining the earth for a Fae Mound. It took a few minutes and he found one. He waited patiently with Dayven at his side as the storm seemed to pass and gray cloudy skies prevailed. The cool air felt refreshing as their cloaks began drying off. An hour passed as they stood then something stirred out of the mound, it was a white Silverthread. It danced along the flowers and sprinkled fairy dust all around. It darted and zoomed as Dunnganon opened his palm and it flew and landed in the middle. The Boy-Mystic closed his eyes and chanted an incantation as Dayven waited quietly watching his father. He sometimes had a hard time dealing with fact that a thirteen-year-old boy was his father. The magic that Dunnganon had been swept up with gave him youth to live a second life. His father did not speak of it, but seemed unhappy at times, but became used to the body. He retained all of his memories from the long life he had previously led. Dayven then turned his attention to Dunnganon. The Boy-Mystic had his eyes closed.
‘Speak little Silverthread, tell me your troubles,’ his mind communicated with white silvery creature.
‘The Dark Fae Clan has been released. They search the forests and fortress for secrets. They plan to wage war against the humans and faeries.’
‘Can you tell your people; we need their help?’
‘They will not interfere in the affairs of man.’
‘We need to enter your realm. How can we do this?’
‘You cannot. It is forbidden.’
‘There must be a way.’
‘The King of Fae is waging war with the Dark Fae.’
‘Can he come to our assistance?’
‘If he wishes to do so, he will.’
‘Can you give him a message?’
‘He will not listen to our clan.’
‘Please try to make him understand that we need his help.’
‘I will try.’
‘I have always been a good friend to the Fae Folk. I have always respected your ways. We need to speak with him.’
‘He is angry that Humankind has opened the doorway for Dark Fae to come through.’
‘A human did this?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know who?’
‘No.’
‘Please send your message and come to me when he is ready. We do not want a Faerie War, we want peace.’
‘So be it Mystic.”
The Silverthread fluttered out of his hand through the timbers sprinkling fairy dust. The two Mystics watched the Silverthread dart away. A tail of dust was left to follow. Then the storm cleared, and sun came out. It was hot and sticky, the cool breeze subsided. The Boy-Mystic untied his cowl and let the sunshine warm his face. His conversation with the Silverthread was with an ancient spell that he learned in his younger years, before he regressed in years from the Life Spring. Dayven untied his cloak and felt better as the thick cloth dried out and the summer heat began baking them. The weather seemed to be unpredictable as if some elemental force were controlling it. The birds started chirping as they watched the bees buzz going from dandelion to dandelion. They went into the huge shade of the oaks and began heading back to the camp.
“I asked the Silverthread if she could speak with her people. I think she will. They have clans you know. Some clans are not allowed to speak to others, but the message she gave explains a little of what’s been happening.” The Boy-Mystic Dunnganon strolled onto a small path which would take them through the wood and back to the group.
“What did she say, father?” Dayven asked directly.
“A human has opened the doorway to the Dark Fae. That means someone with great power is stalking the lands and trying to destroy us. If he or she is human than they were given the power by an evil that never dies.”
“Sovereign,” Mystic Dayven spoke his name. “He is returning.”
“Yes, and with A Dark Alliance Apprentice who is yet to be named or known.”
“There is only one that I can think of that would hold such power. The boy Jarret.” Mystic Dayven answered. “He must have survived and gotten out of Fire Rock Crater, only to be given a gift for pledging his allegiance to Sovereign Lord of Darkness.”
“Then he was given a piece of faerie magic to open up the Dark Fae mounds. He will be hunting us down.”
“What would he want?” Dayven questioned his father then answered it himself. “He would want the quests destruction and to make sure I do not regain the Hearthstone Sword. That weapon would be formidable against the Dark Fae that roam the countryside. We need to keep this from the group until he makes himself known and until we are sure it is him.”
“I agree because controlling the Dark Fae is not impossible, but they’re suitable race that likes freedom. Some may stray. But then he has most likely promised them their freedom to do his bidding. The only recourse would be death.”
“The Crimson Seekers turned him to the dark side and now he is gaining strength in power. Now, he has the power which he controls. It does not control him.”
They continued down the path and saw the camp and look at each other’s, words that were unspoken, it was decided to keep it from them for now. They had to be sure that their assumptions were correct. Jarret would be the only person with the knowledge of evil because of his transformation to becoming a Crimson Seeker six years ago. It made perfect sense and now he had the power of the Dark Fae at his side.
The Mystics greeted everyone who appeared to be in a better mood. The early morning storm was over, and it was time to continue their trip to Galway to make sure they got the assistance they needed.
The She-Elf Warrior and Spellmaker Llyendrie gave them quick glances without saying a word. The couple has suspicions about the two Mystics. They went off for hours without telling the company anything and returned without warning. The two Elves watched the Mystics go about their business as the Prince and Princess of Shannon began to mount their horses. The three guardsman also straddled their horses. The Spellmakers were a silent group and did not care about the going’s on concerning the two Mystics. They also held powers which gave them warnings of something evil arising in the Kingdom of Shannon. The company was ready, and they rode toward Galway.
It was evening when they approached outskirts of Galway and heat of the day was subsiding. The village had been completely rebuilt after the destruction during the Reunion War when the Mystic Zandu sent his demons to destroy the people in the town. Noleann began to feel a sense of excitement as she and
the Prince rode side by side making friendly conversation trying to pass the time. Fatigue was growing and they would need to stop and rest one night at the Galway Inn. She wondered how she would be received and also worried about the attitudes of the assassins she hired. They would not take kindly to Shydrie and disliked Mystic’s and Spellmaker’s, but they had taken the money and now they were to get safe passage to Fire Rock Crater. Noleann decided that she would handle the situation when the time came. After all, she was a Bounty Huntress who once hunted men for money. She had been trained by one of the best assassin’s during his time, O’Dea. She missed him and wondered if they would ever meet again. Her father, Allenor had said he was alive doing well, but never mentioned anything about him again. She wondered where he was and if he was safe. One thing was for certain, the Mystics were completely involved with the Six Providences affairs and they could be anywhere at any time. She knew that he would eventually send her a message. He had helped her channel her innate magic and control it. He had given her a family and now she had a daughter. Prince Grandur never treated her as a wife, but an equal with respect and admiration for all of her skills. He knew that she needed to be free. She could not be locked away in some castle with being content with a title of Princess. She found excitement in the quest. Noleann smiled because she realized that Prince Grandur could never be locked away as a King to rule and make decisions. He needed to be free and that is why the both of them had decided to go on the quest to help the Mystics.
