Abruptly, he felt a tug as if a rope was that was tied to his head was pulled taught.
“You aren’t going down there, pay attention! You’re almost home, just do as I say. The longer you dawdle in this realm the more dangerous it gets. The abyss stares back eventually, you know.” Recht vaguely threatened.
Home was indeed rather close now, and he focused all his concentration on getting there. As he drew closer to the shaft of light he noticed it seemed to be almost imperceptibly pulsating, dancing and flickering as if were a static rod of lightning. It appeared as if it was impaled through his house, more specifically his room in fact. The closer he got, the more he felt a breeze drawing in toward this shaft of light, which was odd considering he felt absolutely nothing in the way of wind this whole time flying in this strange realm. Once he was within a stone’s throw of this shaft of light and hovering almost above his house, he stopped himself and looked back and all around.
He noticed firstly a long, thin, and silvery strand that trailed in from the direction he had come from. It seemed to be going somewhere above him, so he craned his neck up and the strand moved along with him seeming to follow his head movements. Surmising it was somehow a part of him in this realm, he felt the top of his head and his guess was correct. The strand was attached to the top of his skull, yet he couldn’t feel it. He started tugging and playing with it.
“Quit that, you idiot! If you break that, you die! That’s all that’s connecting you to the Mortal Realm right now.” Recht hissed into his mind.
Naurus took the advice and let go of it, although it felt extremely strong regardless. Looking up, he could see no stars nor the moon. Off in the distance the usually black, saw-toothed shapes of the mountains simply weren’t there. A murky, effervescent darkness is all that lay beyond the city. It grew and morphed, changing into strange shapes and seeming to come alive the longer he looked around. He was transfixed by the seemingly living black matter that enveloped the whole world and it all seemed to be closing in on him, but he didn’t know if that was an illusion or not.
“For the love of pox! What did I tell you about the abyss staring back?!” That indeed was the last thing Naurus remembered hearing before a shove sent him flying into the shaft of light and he suddenly found himself sprawled on his bedroom floor.
His room was dark, but he could hear Mokhey hissing and spitting from his bed on the other side. He then felt the strange draft drawing in towards directly behind him and turned around to see the shimmering door closing itself up as it morphed and twisted the shadows around it even so. After a few seconds, it was gone as if nothing was ever there. Naurus stood up and saw in the moonlight that his cat was arched up and his hair stood like porcupine quills. He slowly made his way over, gently shushing and calming his bewildered furry friend. Soon all was normal, and a rumbling purr filled the room instead and as the bed was filled with its usual crowd.
Something Ends
As dawn broke, a pleasant smell filled the room. There was something tasty cooking downstairs. Naurus rolled over and out of bed. He stretched and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, still in a bit of a haze over the previous day’s experiences. He looked over and saw another letter sitting on his desk. Picking it up, the seal of the Immortal King stood in scarlet contrast to his morning haze. He immediately ripped it open, realizing there was actually another smaller sealed note inside along with some now familiar handwriting:
Naurus,
Enclosed you will find a sealed note that you are not to open yourself, for if you do it will burn. You will give it to the stables of your choice and they will be able to give you a little extra help on this outing of yours. I expect you will leave with haste, as I’m sure your father will be happy to keep you company. I will be waiting for you in the woods. By the way, remember that little black pin with the red hand you have? Bring that along.
Regards,
-R
This was definitely not what he was expecting to wake up to on this day and he started to feel pangs of regret about what his life would be like now had he not gone out to the far side of the mountains in the first place. He set the note aside and made his way downstairs, rod and ring tucked into the pocket of his pajama pants. The usual suspects were there, with his father buried in a newspaper cradling the umpteenth coffee of the day and his mother fretting about in the kitchen making sure there was food being plated. He was just in time, as three ceramic plates were placed on the table next to the silverware.
“Good morning honey, I didn’t even hear you come home last night!” His mother said while setting a plate full of sausage and hash in front of him.
“Yeah, it was pretty late so you were asleep.” Came his reply as he dug in.
Listening to his parent’s banal conversation about the honey-do list and the juicy gossip of the neighborhood only made him want to focus on eating faster as the nerves of what he had to do soon started welling up. He easily finished before them and made sure to slip a bribe of sausage to Mokhey under the table, delaying his inevitable demise at the hands of his cat only a for the time being. He nervously glanced around, sipping his coffee as if that was going to make it less noticeable.
“You seem all restless, if you want to get up and do something else you can.” His mother suggested, drawing his father's eyes to him with a quizzical look.
“Yeah I should, but um…something important came up.” Nobody responded, just looked at him in anticipation.
“Well dad its actually only something to do with you. It’s a really long story, but I was told you would be familiar with this.” Naurus produced the rod and ring and set it in the middle of the table.
His father neatly folded the newspaper back up and plopped it on the table. He stared at the trinket laid before him with several excruciatingly long and hard blinks. Each blink flashed a different emotion across his scarred old face: anger, confusion, disbelief, and finally settling on vaguely hidden irritation.
“Well son, that’s interesting. Where’d you find that?” His father asked, leaning across the table and boring his eyes through his son.
“It uh...well it was given to me. This strange old man who calls himself Recht, he—”
Naurus didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence. In a blinding flash of flying tableware that sent his mother tumbling to the ground, his father bulled the table over and pinned him to the nearby wall by his shirt collar in one swift movement.
“Dad...I can explain. Just calm down...” Naurus nervously piped up, averted his father's furious eyes to look at his mother grab a rolling pin off the nearby countertop.
“You better explain real fuckin’ good boy, you’ve just opened up a world of shit for us if you aren’t lying!” His father seethed through his teeth.
Before Naurus could reply, a dull thud rang out from the crack of a rolling pin across his father's back. It hardly fazed him, and his mother followed up with an even harder strike. This finally broke his concentration enough to let go with one hand and grab the rolling pin from his wife mid-swing. He hurled it across the kitchen, embedding the handle through a wooden cabinet. Looking between his bewildered wife and equally confused son, he took a deep breath and let go. He picked the table and chair up and sat down.
“Sit down, and speak!” His father barked. Naurus pulled up a chair and picked up the rod and ring off the floor, setting it back on the table.
“The rod and the ring will strike.” He said while averting his father's stone-cold gaze.
“The belly of the dragon will drip water.” Came the hissing reply.
His father snatched up the trinket, rolling it around in his fingers.
“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into boy. That man you ran into out in the woods, that was him wasn’t it?”
Naurus nodded.
“I was really hoping it wasn’t, but I had a bad feeling it was. Stupid me for not anticipating this. But son, you are an absolute moron for ever going out on that stupid little journey.
Recht and I have a little history, and not a pleasant one. Don’t ask me any questions, you’ll have to find the answers on your own. Let me guess, he wants us to meet him back at the woods where you first met?”
Another nod was the answer.
“Well that’s just fantastic.” His father turned to his mother who had blanched by this point. “You hear that honey? Your dumbass son just had to dig up my past and it’s all coming back, just another goddamned skeleton in the closet. This means another little adventure for us, I hope we will be back in a couple of days. Go upstairs and get ready dipshit, you’ve played with fire now and now we’re getting burned for it. Just a chip off the old block.” His father said venomously as he made his way upstairs.
Naurus found himself in his mother's warm embrace.
“I’m so sorry. He didn’t mean to get that mad, he just...” She trailed off, lost for words.
“I know, I stuck my nose where I shouldn’t have. I don’t know why I did that.”
“It’ll be ok dear, just try not to get in his way now. Somethings he’d like to leave in the past, but now...well for now just know I love you. So does your father, even if he doesn’t say it much. Now go on and get ready.” She said comfortingly while squeezing him extra tight.
He took the cue and went upstairs to make ready. He decided to pack lighter this time, only bringing his sword and water skein. His eyes caught the note sitting unfurled on the desk, and he remembered the bit about the pin. He tucked that away into a pouch on his belt and tied his boots on, not bothering to blouse his pants in his rush. Coming down the stairs, his father was already waiting by the door. Most notably he had his favorite stiletto dagger hanging off his belt, which he affectionately referred to as his ‘toothpick’ as he was apt to use it as such. Its hand carved buckhorn handle bared many signs of use and abuse. An indigo cloak hung over his father's shoulders, something he usually only wore on hunting trips or special occasions. A black gambeson completed the look, matching his dark leather gusseted pants. The predisposition to muted earth tones was rather strong in this family.
They silently made their way outside into the cool autumn air.
“I suppose we should get some horses.” His father suggested demurely.
“I have a letter right here that I’m supposed to give the stables actually.” Naurus blurted out while waving the sealed letter in his hand.
“Oh, how nice. Let me guess, Recht gave that to you? What a swell guy.” Came his father’s burningly sarcastic reply.
They walked in silence towards the stables, seeming to be in perfect harmony as to where they were going without any discussion needing to be had about it. Soon they found themselves coming upon Hunter’s Run, and as they approached the stable master immediately recognized Naurus. Before any words could be said the barrel chested, middle aged man crossed his arms and shot him a dirty look.
“Well well, if it isn’t the little horse thief. You better tell me where Muffin is or I’ll have the guards haul you off!” The stable master said gruffly.
“Well uh...” Naurus fumbled for a moment about what to say, then remembered the letter in his pocket. “I think you should read this first.”
No sooner did he extend his hand out than the letter was ripped out of his grip in a swift movement. The stable master popped the seal off and flipped it open, scanning it furiously. Naurus looked over at his father, but only could see his face buried in hand rubbing his eyes methodically. Looking back over at the stable master, the man's face started going pale and a bead of sweat became obvious over his temple. He nervously threw his pony tail back from over his shoulder.
“I uh...m-my apologies sirs. I had no idea you were agents of His Royal Majesty himself. You uh...just take whatever horses you like! Please don’t give me any trouble!” The stable master sputtered out before scurrying off to hide in his workshop.
Naurus looked over for some sort of approval from his father, but instead of finding that he saw his father poorly stifling a laugh that was shaking his body from head to toe. After rubbing his face with his hands, he finally looked over at his son.
“That son of a bitch hasn’t changed at all. Agents my ass. Come on, lets pick out some nags and get this shitshow on the road.” His father said stifling more laughter.
They walked over and the usual motley assortment of well beaten horses in better or worse health was there. His father however zeroed in on a pair of sable stallions tucked away in the rear corner stall.
“These will do just fine. Saddle up, boy. I hope you can handle something larger than a pony by now.”
Naurus didn’t bother replying, instead he busied himself and got his saddle strapped on, snatching up a saddlebag full of tackle just in case. His father was all mounted up before he was, something that had never changed since childhood. A chip off the old block indeed, always slower than his father at horsemanship though. All saddled up, they hit the Barthwick Path just in time for the morning rush hour of carts and wagons hauling produce, meat, and grain into town. The sun cast its warmth on their backs as it illuminated the dykes and streams that crisscrossed the fields of golden grains and orchards budding with their harvest. Chickens and goats scurried around inside stone walled cottages. Windmills did their ever-diligent duty, turning in the winds as the waterwheels did the same with yet another constant force of nature.
The deciduous trees were starting to turn their fall colors as far as the eye could see. Corn stalks hung heavy with cobs that were picked by farm hands working up and down in neat rows. The peaceful serenity seemed to do the talking between father and son, but soon Naurus started chuckling as memorable mishaps usually involving hunting flooded into his head. His father noticed and looked over at him.
“What's so damn funny?”
“Well, remember that time we were hunting tree rats at Foster Grove Farms and you got separated from me?”
“Oh, but how could I?” His father started off sarcastically, “How could I ever forget getting shot in the ass by my own son because he forgot one of the most basic rules of gun safety? All you had to do was call out and see where I was!”
Naurus cackled, drawing his father into a sheepish chuckle as well. “But I got the tree rat! We ate good that night with our day’s haul! You were so ass chapped from having to ride side saddle all the way back!”
“Har har, you certainly remember that much more fondly than I do. Hey son, remember that one time we went fishing on the Flowing Well Pond?”
“What one time? Every time we went there we hardly caught anything!” Naurus replied.
“Yeah right, you caught a big one! Ha, ha! Indeed, you hooked yourself in your scalp! I don’t know why you kept casting it like you were splitting logs...” He trailed off in laughter.
“Yeah yeah I remember that, at least you took pleasure in forcing the hook through my scalp to get it out huh?”
“Still all butthurt about that, son? You know damn well the barb would have torn your scalp in two had I pulled it out!” His father wiped some tears from his eyes and finally caught his breath.
“Yeah well at least I didn’t sprain my ankle on tree roots and rocks like you did so damn much! I hated having to drag you back home and Ma having to chew us out for your clumsiness.” Naurus crowed in laughter again, fondly remembering the tell-tale pop and crack of an ankle rolled followed up with choice swearing that would have made even the most veteran innkeeper blush.
“I distinctly remember one time was because my oxygen thief of a son failed to tell me of a guard dog that for some reason ignored you but came charging after me!”
“Oh yeah now I remember that. You didn’t bribe him with tripe like I did, but at least I was able to help get your crippled old self back over the fence!”
“Yeah what a great help you were, laughing so hard you almost dropped me straight back down into the jaws of death.”
“Don’t be so dramatic dad, you only got bit all up and down your legs and ass!”
They both lau
ghed another fit in unison. Truly it had been some years since they both had set out together out in this direction, only this time they weren’t going hunting. That realization was at least softened by the laughter of memories long since solidified over many retellings at the family dinner table. The bantering and humor had certainly passed a good chunk of time, and soon enough they found themselves looking at their stop for the night of in the distance.
“Well look son, it’s your favorite little town!”
“Hardy har, so funny dad. You never told me you were a jester.”
“Yeah right. I was nothing more than a sapper at your age. When you were still teething Kaladore was still a respectable town where a man could make a decent living. Now…well now we have to deal with it for tonight.”
Naurus scratched his head and an idea came to him. “Yes, well what if we don’t have to deal with it? Let’s just camp on the outskirts perhaps?”
“And what? Get eaten by pumas? Get stripped naked and robbed blind by the local guild of the sticky fingers? Or even better yet, get swiped up for a tasty treat by a wayward roc!” His father cackled.
“Don’t be so dramatic. What rocs? I’ve sure never see one.” Naurus mused.
“Aye? Well let’s consider that a good thing then. I can count the number of people who have met one and survived on one hand.”
On that sobering thought, the sun began its retreat behind the mountains looming ahead. Deciduous forests gradually turned to conifers and pines all the way up to the tree line before being capped by snowy peaks. This peaceful scenery was a small comfort for Naurus, who started to tense up at the thought of staying in this town once more. He looked over at his father, who had pulled his cloak up over his head and furtively glanced around. Damnit! I forgot my own hood. Oh well, what are the chances those bandits are still around now? He rationalized away his fear as the town lay dead ahead.
Soon the neatly tramped dirt path gave way to the broken cobblestone road through the main drag of the town. Father and son were silent, save for the thrashing of reins about trying to keep the horses from stepping in pot holes. His father took the lead and seemed to know exactly where he was going. A few people milled about and greeted them with cold glances, stray dogs fought over and dug though trash that lined the roads. They soon found themselves at the Broken Sword Inn, but nerves were coming over Naurus now.
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