Arcana: A recollection

by Liberty of the Aether Project

  Chapter 3 – A Forest of thorns

  LITTLE IS SAID AS THE THREE MEN rest in the carriage, travelling shadowy roads towards the nearest town or outpost. Jacques’ head nearly hits the roof at each bump on the road and Brahm, attempting to break the awkward silence, jokes about it.

  ‘We should try to find a way to make you shorter, Jacques. I would hate for that head of yours to be bashed around and for you to lose your memory!’

  ‘Or you could make this carriage taller. Why are men of Harkon so short-statured?’ Isaac, though hearing their words, doesn’t even register the conversation. Anything that had held up his old life and given it stability has been torn away. He’s venturing out in the unknown, and he does not like it at all. Trying to snap him out of it, Brahm addresses him directly.

  ‘What of you, Isaac? Do you believe Jacques to be too tall, or the carriage to be too short?’ Unresponsive, Isaac simply gazes out the tiny window on his side of the carriage.

  ‘It seems like he’s in another place right now. Anyway, it’s fortunate that I ordered those oil lanterns before we ventured out here. This road would’ve been terrible to navigate at this hour without them.’ Jacques gives a small nod.

  ‘Indeed. Where exactly does this road lead, Brahm?’ Flipping open a small compass, Jacques double checks their direction.

  ‘I do not remember any road on it which led to the east from that village.’

  Confused, Brahm quickly reaches over to the small compartment where he keeps his documents and maps. Fumbling through the huge mass of aged paper, he finds the map which details the region around Isaac’s village.

  ‘Hmm, that is strange… This road is definitely not in my maps, and these maps of mine were only drafted a few months ago.’

  ‘Then I think it would be wise to turn around and get back on a road we actually know.’ Just as he finishes speaking, their carriage comes to a stop. They hear there’s frantic knocking on the carriage door.

  ‘Councilman! We’ve been cut off from our escort! You have to come out here and see for yourself!’ Cautiously, Brahm and Jacques step out of the carriage, while Isaac remains inside. Sure enough, there is a gigantic wall of black thorns cutting off their carriage from the rest of the caravan. Soldiers attempt to hack away at the horns, finding that the thorns grow back over the holes faster than they can cut them. Jacques carefully steps towards the thorns, slipping a knife out of his robe. He slices open a small hole, to watch as the thorns cover it again.

  ‘There’s magic at work here, Brahm.’

  ‘Well, Jacques, you’re our expert in that regard. How exactly do we break this enchantment?’

  ‘It’s simple. We kill whoever, or whatever, is causing those thorns to grow.’

  ‘And how would we do that? The shadows of this forest are pitch black. We would become lost long before we found the sorcerer.’

  ‘Magic of this kind is ancient and powerful. The user must be close by.’

  ‘Well, we’re facing such powers, I would rather not have you face it alone.’

  ‘Are you sure, Brahm? I know how crippling superstition can be to a Harkonian.’

  ‘Superstition or not, you aren’t exactly in your prime. I will go with you, and aid you if I can.’

  Unknown to the two men, Isaac is listening in to the conversation. While afraid of the possibility of a sorcerer holding them all hostage, he becomes curious about the concept of magic. He continues listening in.

  ‘I know that none of your men will follow us, so it will be just us two.’ Quickly reaching inside the caravan, Brahm retrieves his well-worn sword and shield, clanging them together to signal his men.

  ‘Report to the highest ranking officer! He will be in charge until Jacques and I return.’

  With that, no more is said and Isaac hears the rustle of leaves and branches, presumably as Jacques and Brahm wander into the shadows. Deciding that he would rather not be alone at this moment, Isaac steps of the carriage in order to join Brahm’s troops. What few escort soldiers had been travelling with them at the front are now gathered around the commandeering officer. They are speaking prayers, and making signs to ward off evil. Harkonians have a great phobia of magic, believing it to be wicked. In order to inspire the frightened troops, the officer yells at the top of his lungs.

  ‘Stand fast, men! Jacques and Brahm are already working to remove the source of this sorcery! Hold your talismans close and no one is to wander off by themselves! Check to see if everyone is accounted for in your unit!’ This stops some of the murmurs and panicked chants coming from the soldiers. Having been inside the carriage, Isaac didn’t get an opportunity to see where Jacques went.

  ‘Where did they go?’

  ‘They wandered into the underground, Brahm trailing behind Jacques.’ One of the soldiers responds. Scanning around, the soldier seems disheartened.

  ‘We’re afraid. Witchcraft like this sends shudders down my spine. We have tactics for fighting Arcanian soldiers, not for fighting thorns which grow back.’ Fear strikes Isaac at his core too. He had never walked outside of his village before and magic is a completely foreign concept to him. Still though, he knew Jacques and Brahm are out there.

  Jacques slashes his way through the shadowy thicket, Brahm following close behind. Jacques had not even mentioned it to Brahm, but he is actually quite skilled in the use of sorcery. He knew that they were all unnerved by the concept, so he did his best to keep quiet about it. He did not even mention his ability to Isaac, playing off the moments in his life story where magic had aided him as luck. A person with latent magic ability unconsciously affects things around them, as Jacques had done when a great serpent had once attempted to take his life. It is possible that he has actually manipulated Isaac and even Brahm into aiding him, though he denies himself that thought. As the pair carve a vicious path through the shadows, the very vines and thorns which creep through the canopy seem to attempt to lash at them, bind them, doing anything possible to slow them down.

  ‘It seems all the plants here are getting desperate to keep us away.’ Brahm observes.

  ‘Then it means we’re getting close to the source.’ Responds Jacques. Jacques can feel where the flow of mystic energies is coming from. With a sense of triumph, he sees a small clearing in the woods. Moonlight shines down on a giant stone pillar. To his surprise, he sees several figures standing around the pillar. All of them are wearing battered and torn garbs, as though they had been out in the woods for years. They all have the look of wild people. Jacques has heard of rumours about wild users of magic in the remote wilderness of Arcana, but this is his first encounter with such a people. In times even more ancient than the establishing of the two kingdoms of Harkon and Arcana, a primitive people carved great monoliths which served as focus points for magical power. Such stones are shunned even by the Arcanians, who believe them to bring ill fortune should they be used. This stone must’ve been one of those monoliths Jacques had heard about. Over his shoulder, Jacques signals Brahm to come over. As quietly as he can manage, Brahm peaks through a bush to observe the strange sight.

  ‘What is this? You implied there would only be one sorcerer.’

  ‘This is… rather unusual, Brahm. They are using a focus stone. It is an ancient source of power, but anyone with half a brain would stay away from those things. It’s dangerous at best to use them.’’

  ‘In what way are they dangerous?’

  ‘They connect to… somewhere else. And I have read legends about some of the creatures which have arisen from such stones. We must stop them immediately.’ With no regard to his own safety, Jacques rises from the bushes, brandishing his sword at the small group of wild men. Brahm quickly joins him, shield and sword at the ready.

  ‘Wandering men, capable of seeking us here. Obviously part of the caravan. What to do with them, I ask of us.’ One of the figures manages to fumble off their tongues.

  ‘To slay is the answer. Threat ceases to be threatening.’ Another figure chimes in. Defiantly, J
acques issues a challenge.

  ‘If you desire to slay us, then why do you not try it?’ Each figure slams their fists together, and etchings begin to glow on the pillar.

  ‘Foolish presumption, that we must be the ones to slay. When there are others to slay.’ Not desiring to wait and see what they mean by “others”, Jacques signals Brahm, and together they begin sprinting the distance between them. He is too late, however, and light begins pouring from the etchings. Glowing strips begin wrapping together, sculpting and giving life to a monstrous shape. The wild ones cheer and sing as the horror they summoned starts moving. It appears as nothing more but a blur of a dark and vaguely humanoid shape to Jacques, but he sees quick flashes of various beasts he had seen across Arcana. At times its face appears as the great maw of an Arcanian serpent, and others as a feline predator, and its limbs seem to flicker in much the same manner. Brahm stops dead in his tracks, and gazes at the thing blankly.

  ‘What… is that?’

  ‘What we were trying to stop.’ Its flashing form begins taking awkward steps towards Jacques, and it unleashes a horrid howl, causing the animals of the forest to wake up and flee. It raises one of its blurred and deformed limbs, and sweeps the area around it. Jacques and Brahm barely dodge its clumsy attack, but the wild people weren’t so fortunate. They have no control over the beast, and become the target of its wrath as well.

  ‘The other fights us, not just the strangers!’ A wild man cries out as he flees from the warped horror. The two warriors take this opportunity to slay the fleeing wild people, and makes sure none of them escape. As their bloody corpses begin lining the battlefield, the beast seems to shrink with every death. Noticing this, Jacques quickly informs Brahm.

  ‘Kill them all! If they’re all dead, this thing will lose its anchor in this world!’ Some of the wild people attempt to attack them with clubs and primitive weapons. Being slower than he was in his youth, Jacques is only able to dodge a few of their savage swings. With his superior training and youth, Brahm fares much better. Quickly slicing his way through the savages, he deflects a blow which would’ve cracked Jacques’ skill. Between the fighting skills of the two and the monster’s blundering and awkward attacks, the wild people are quickly dispatched. When the last falls, the glowing lights disappear and the monstrosity fades away into nothing but a memory.

  Meanwhile, Brahm’s men remain stuck on the road. Each inhuman howl they hear in the undergrowth causes them to shuffle into an increasingly defensive formation, until they are all bunched together, using their shields to form a turtle-like shell. Sudden sounds of snapping branches causes everyone to jump. Much to their relief, it is the sound of the thorn wall falling apart.

  ‘Quickly, we might have a chance to hack it down now!’ The officer shouts out. With that, each soldier takes their blade to the wall, and soon the caravan is reunited. Their horses also calm down as the thorn wall resides, returning to their normal demeanour.

  ‘Now, there’s just the matter of Jacques and Brahm. We should wait a moment for them to return.’ As he finishes speaking, several rustles come from the undergrowth, as Brahm and Jacques burst through the darkness. Jacques sustained several injuries in the fight, and is walking with a limp behind Brahm.

  ‘I need to get some notes on this, Jacques! How many of them were there? What did they do when you found them? How did you find them?’ Not keen to be interviewed after the battle, Jacques hushes Isaac.

  ‘Leave me be for the time being. We will discuss it later.’ Seeing that Jacques is not in the mood for storytelling, Isaac chooses to return to reading over the notes he has already recorded.

  ‘I’m getting too old for this, Brahm.’ Jacques sighs as he begins surveying his wounds and bruises.

  ‘Well, going against an entire tribe of sorcerers isn’t something most men can do even when they’re young, Jacques. You should be pleased with yourself.’

  ‘I suppose so. I wish that some of your men were better adjusted to dealing with magical threats.’

  ‘Jacques, we already know that is easier said than done. Let’s just get out of here.’ Turning back to his men, Brahm beams a bright smile.

  ‘We are ready to leave these accursed woods. Forward, men!’ Triumphant over the evil that had attempted to draw them in, the soldiers cheer and march their way back to more familiar roads.

 

  Making it back to Harkonian roads, the caravan eventually reaches a small town at the base of the mountain chain known as the Giant’s Spine. Having run low on supplies, and needing a break from the constant travelling, the caravan stops there. The townspeople give them a warm welcome, since they’re used to travellers. They weren’t surprised to see a Councilman among the caravan, since their town is on a road frequented by noblemen from various regions of Harkon. Isaac realised that he had failed to ask an important question. With no further delay, he immediately asks Brahm while the two of them are wandering around the town.

  ‘Where are we going? What’s the final destination of this caravan?’

  ‘I was wondering when you were going to ask. Most people tend to ask where they’re going before they start going there. To answer your question, we are heading to Greatspire Castle to see my brother. We have to make a trip along the Giant’s Spine, so we’re stocking up on as much supplies as we can carry.’ Not understanding what significance this has, Isaac questions him further.

  ‘Your brother? Who exactly is your brother?’

  ‘Why, Malaach, of course. The king of Harkon. I swear, you must not know anything about Harkonian politics. I would think that my name would be a household name by now. What does a man have to do to get some attention these days? Is being royalty not enough?’

  ‘You’re… the King’s brother…’ Isaac trails off. Lacking anything further of substance to say, he remains quiet for the rest of their wanderings through the town. Brahm seems to not mind, and keeps quiet too. Truthfully, Brahm knows Isaac may still be a bit shell shocked from his upheaval from his home, and chooses not to push him. For Isaac, this raises more questions about Jacques. Why exactly is Jacques involved with the King’s brother? What is his goal for travelling to see the king? Isaac couldn’t help but wonder to himself. But most of all, Isaac wondered how exactly these two men had met. He would have to ask Jacques later.

  Soon enough, Isaac and Jacques find a suitable spot for them to continue their work.

  ‘What do you think of the town, Isaac? I quite like this place.’

  ‘It’s okay. Can we please continue where you left off?’