Ahren- the 13th Paladin

by Torsten Weitze

  Ahren looked tentatively over at the bodies but his master said, ‘the feudal lord of this stretch of land will bury them. There’s too much blood in the air for us three to put four bodies under the ground undisturbed. Even normal beast of prey from the Green Sea could be dangerous for us’.

  They gathered the horses together and rode away from the gruesome scene. Uldini distracted the young man from the terrible sights by explaining to him, as he had promised, the rankings of the adversary’s servants

  ‘If a human, dwarf or elf comes into direct contact with the willpower of the Betrayer, whether willingly or not, there are several results. Most of them die, pure and simple. Their spirit breaks, their heart stops beating. All elves and dwarves react in this way, and also the majority of humans. The humans who survive are forced into another form that seems totally arbitrary. They are human to a large degree, but there are two-headed variations, some with several arms, legs, with claws, fangs, feathers, whatever you can imagine. They almost always produce sharp teeth, which is why we call them Low Fangs. Their spirits suffer greatly under the implanting of his will and their intelligence is mostly limited. They gather together into hordes of one hundred up to one thousand individuals and they travel through the country looking for prey. Those of a high intelligence and an outstanding will withstand the pressure of transformation to some extent. Even if they are still under the control of Him, who forces, they maintain a large amount of their human form and an intact spirit in so far as that is possible, even if they all eventually succumb to some form of madness or passion. Their changes are mostly subtler, a third eye in the palm of their hand, or a hidden tongue of poison, as in our friend’s case back there. We call these beings High Fangs. They are the ringleaders of the hordes - philosophers, spies or assassins. You’re already well acquainted with the Dark Ones. Almost all of them fulfil special roles or are compliant stooges of the High Fangs. And above them all are the Transformers. They are the generals if you like. They obey only the Adversary’.

  Ahren wondered at the wizard’s words. ‘What do you mean, ‘willingly or not’?’ he asked.

  Uldini answered, ‘the unwilling variation follows three different types. Firstly, chance. A few Borderlanders came under the wandering and dreaming will of the Betrayer. That could even happen outside the Border Lands at the beginning of the spell, but it was highly improbable and is impossible now because he is still sleeping too deeply. The same applies to the second variation. Someone had aroused his attention during the Dark Days and to such an extent that He, who forces went to the effort of searching after the troublemaker. Luckily, such a visitation can be easily avoided if one carries a sign of the Three, usually as a pendant. Otherwise He would have been able to destroy all the opposition in their sleep. The closer one is, the stronger the effect. That’s why we have possibility number three, the most common one nowadays. It still regularly catches border guards who are careless and wander to within a length of the Pall Pillar, and then a medallion is of no use anymore. One of the reasons that the gods created the Paladins that time was their ability to withstand his willpower, even in direct contact’.

  Uldini was now lost in his memories and stopped talking and so Falk took over the reins.

  ‘The willing variation is very simple. You go to him and submit yourself to his will’.

  Ahren was shocked. ‘Who would do something like that’, he asked, flabbergasted.

  ‘You want power over other people, you see no point in your life, you are tired of taking independent decisions, you are running away from their consequences or you simply reject the Three. Some of them only wanted to be on the side of the so-called victors. The lonely, the lost, the despised – they all ran to him and ended up as Low or High Fangs in his army. That’s another reason. If you go to him of your own free will, then the transformation won’t kill you. There was even the rumour that you could become a Transformer. People can be incredibly stupid’. Falk shook his head in disdain. The three rode along for a while in silence.

  Then Uldini asked, ‘The High Fang, what did he say to you that time at the trading post?’

  Ahren thought hard. It had been months earlier and he hadn’t attached much importance to it. Finally he said, ‘something about me not needing to be lonely anymore. Something like that. Something about a shimmering path or an illuminating way, I think’.

  Uldini and Falk were suddenly very uneasy and the magus asked carefully, ‘was it the Illuminated Path, perhaps?’

  Ahren thought for a moment, then nodded.

  Falk looked grim and said, ‘that was fast’.

  The apprentice looked questioningly from one to the other and finally his master relented and offered an explanation.

  ‘There was a cult in the Dark Days that taught the adoration of the Adversary. Their true god was buried under a heap of lies in order to lure the unhappy and weak. ‘Never be lonely again, have no fear, abandon yourself to our community, be free of all doubts, all that rubbish. This all resulted in the poor souls freely putting themselves under his control. The name of this cult was ‘the Illuminated Path’’.

  ‘It seems our enemy is organizing himself more quickly than expected’, added Uldini.

  ‘You think too vertically’, said Falk in contradiction. ‘Not everything is coming from Him. I think the Transformers are preparing the ground for the harvest. Not that this possibility is much better’.

  Uldini shrugged his shoulders. ‘Whatever the case, I’m going to call on the Ancients to eradicate the cult in all the kingdoms before it can gain a foothold. Anyway, that will give them something meaningful to do’.

  ‘Good idea’, agreed Falk grimly.

  They rode on in brooding silence and after a few lengths the rain started – thick heavy drops that soaked through to the skin within seconds.

  Uldini looked up at the heavens and said, ‘well, that figures’.

  Ahren awoke, his breathing was fitful and his clothing stuck to his body under the blanket. Just as every night since the ambush he only slept a few hours before he was woken up by nightmares. Culhen was beside him as always, his warm pelt a rock withstanding his master’s constant and alternate surges of fear and guilt. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the faces of his enemies who had died at his hands. He was finding it impossible to shake off the memories no matter how hard he tried to justify his actions to himself.

  At the start he had tried to calm his nerves by reaching the Void. But the ghosts of the dead were the new ghosts of the Void and so this refuge remained barred to him until he could find the opportunity to come to terms with his deeds. Logic told him that he had done the right thing, that he himself would have been killed had he not defended himself. But the very same logic told him that they had taken fourteen lives in order to save five. He was going around in circles and didn’t know the way out.

  Falk and Uldini were of no use whatsoever. His master would always say, ‘the answers are already there, you just don’t want to see them’. And Uldini spoke like an oracle. ‘Each must find their own way to come to terms with it. Find the reason that justifies what you have done. Falk knows his and I have my own. Find yours and you shall find peace’.

  This really didn’t help the young man, but he struggled on, forced his way through the days as the ribbon of Evergreen grew bigger and bigger until they could recognize individual trees with the naked eye. According to Falk they would be there in two days and slowly the feelings of guilt gave way to curiosity and excitement. Only at night was it impossible to escape from his conscience in the nightmares that plagued him. Culhen would sense his disquiet and so lick his face and hit him playfully with his paws and within a few heartbeats they would be tussling for fun until Ahren would collapse, unable to breathe because he was laughing so much. Then he would stroke the fur of his friend and fall into a dreamless sleep.

  The following days passed painfully slowly. The trees of Evergreen were growing into the skies before them but still they hadn’t reached the
tree border. He reckoned that most of the trees soared over fifty paces up into the heavens, and the green wall stretched unbroken from one end of the horizon to the other. He felt a sense of awe in the face of such an elemental force of nature. His master understood the expression on his apprentice’s face, for he himself often wore it. He whispered to Ahren, ‘wherever I go, Eathinian will always be my true home. It would take a person three years to cross it from east to west, and three months to travel from here to its northern end where the Icy Vasts await one. It would take you a whole lifetime to see all of Eathinian’. Ahren had never heard the old man gush like this, but there was always a painful undertone when he spoke of the forest of the elves. This part of their adventure was finally coming to a close and the following day they would enter at last into the safety of the Elfish Forest in order to find the first of the three Einhans.

  Chapter 18

  The green wall of trees soared ever higher as they traversed the final lengths to the Elfish forest. Shortly before that, they had passed by the Knight Marshes border station, a strangely humble stone building with an elderly man sitting snoring on a platform. Ahren had expected an imposing castle or some other symbol of power through which the kingdom would assert its border with the elves, but he was obviously mistaken. Falk had seen his puzzled look and explained the reason to him.

  ‘There haven’t been any border conflicts for centuries. The trees are a clear divide. The elves live within, the people outside. Everything has been peaceful since nobody tries to fell the trees anymore. A strong fortification would only increase tensions. And the more harmonious relations are, the more the trade road brings in. Money has always been a powerful motivation’.

  The green giants were now soaring before the travellers into the sky and Ahren’s first impression, that most of these trees had to be at least fifty paces tall, had proven itself to be true. Sweeping branches full of leaves created a green canopy above the forest floor. As he lowered his gaze to look ahead he saw that the trade path was snaking its way between the massive trunks of the enormous trees, and its appearance had altered markedly since they’d passed the border post. The massive stone slabs had made way to a curious green growth that made its way like velvet, smooth and shimmering.

  They rode closer and Falk said, ‘leave the talking to me’.

  Ahren stretched his neck but could see nobody. There was no border post or guards, and while he was wondering what exactly Falk meant, two slim figures stepped out of the trees and onto the trade path from left and right and looked at them impassively. Ahren squinted his eyes in an effort to make out details, as these were the first elves he had ever seen in the flesh, but the distance was still too great.

  Falk said quietly, ‘we’ll dismount here and lead the horses by their reins’.

  Uldini grumbled but followed the others’ example.

  They slowly walked towards the two elves, who still hadn’t moved a muscle. The whole situations seemed somewhat unreal to Ahren. They were still a hundred paces from the first trees but already they were stepping into the shade of the leafy canopy. Much to Ahren’s surprise it had hardly darkened at all, but everything was lit up in a greenish lustre. He looked up and had to blink straight away. The leaves of the giant trees were strongly translucent and hardly stopped the sun at all. He was filled with a sense of security and peace, almost as if the canopy of leaves was keeping everything evil at bay and only the warmth and beauty of the world was allowed to pass through.

  A light breeze ruffled the tree tops and the silent swoosh created a play of colours as shades of gold and green danced their way through the branches in ever changing variations as the sun found its way to the forest floor.

  These sensual elements hit Ahren quite unexpectedly and tears of joy ran down his cheeks He felt safe for the first time since he had left Deepstone. Selsena emitted a storm of joy and happiness, which proved to the young man that he wasn’t alone with his emotions. His master was walking before him but the young man could tell from his trembling shoulders that the old man was equally overcome.

  He blinked away his tears and concentrated fully on the elves they were nearing. They were a dozen paces away and he could now make out all their features. Both were slim and tall with snow white hair that fell to their chests and down their backs in complicated plaits and coils. Their bodies were covered by unusual leather armour that Ahren had never come across before. The leather seemed to be made up of individually hardened leather pieces which were in a variety of curved shapes that made a complete, closed piece. Ahren could make out fine lines where the individual leather plates met up and he asked himself why anyone would dress themselves in armour like this with its dozens of weak points.

  The guards were unarmed and looked at the travel party as they finally arrived with eyes that were calm yet penetrating. They didn’t say a word to the arrivals and still hadn’t moved, but still Ahren couldn’t ignore them. The guards radiated a sort of quiet authority that warned everybody not to proceed without their permission. Falk cleared his throat after a few seconds of silence and said in a trembling voice, ‘we wish to enter Eathinian in order to speak to Jelninolan’. He clearly wanted to say more but it seemed that the feelings that had surfaced on his return to the Elfish forest were overwhelming him. But there was something else. His shoulders were pulled in and he had sunk his head which was looking erratically from one guard to the other. His proud and unflinching master was coming across like a nervous and vulnerable Godsday student. This sight took Ahren aback, and he was even more dismayed when one of the guards said in a quiet but clear voice, ‘we know who you are, Dorian Falkenstein. Your time under the Elfish trees was declared over. Turn around and return no more’. His master flinched at these words as if they had been accompanied by blows. Selsena gave a shrill neigh as a reaction to the emotional suffering her spiritual partner was enduring, and Ahren felt an anger building up inside him at the heartless way that these two elves had chastised the old man. Falk himself seemed to want to yield, and turned away, his face a picture of inner torment. Ahren was about to utter some scornful words when suddenly a crackling sound filled the air behind him. The apprentice spun around and saw Uldini. Ahren gasped and staggered backwards until he crashed into his horse, for he hardly recognized the wizard. He was floating a good one and a half paces above the ground and he was engulfed in an aura of flashes that was dancing over the ground and the trees with a power was almost tangible. His eyes were lit up in a painfully bright glow and when he spoke, his voice sounded like thunder,

  ‘I am Uldini Getobo, beloved of the gods, supreme commander of the Ancients, weaver of the Bane Spell and protector of the Sunplains. I demand admission for me and my companions and an escort to Jelninolan. Now!’

  The last word was accompanied by a tremendous blast that threw everyone off balance as it raced along the canopy of leaves and disappeared in the distance. The simultaneous whoosh of the leaves around them was deafening. Ahren had been in awe at the stillness of the guards, but the way the Arch Magus so easily made use of his absolute power was quite overwhelming. The elves were obviously of the same opinion for they turned without saying another word and led them into the Elfish forest. Ahren stared at the floating figure in front of him as if in a trance. The transformation of the childlike figure into this manifestation of light and willpower had stunned him so completely that he was rooted to the spot. Falk trotted in a daze behind the elves, still trapped in the painful suffering that the elves’ rebuff had caused. Uldini floated forwards and whispered to Ahren as he passed him, ‘now get a move on! You Three, how I despise these sleights of hand’.

  This comment was typical of the dry humour and Uldini’s pragmatic nature that Ahren had got to know in the previous months and it broke the spell that the wizard’s present appearance had on him. He was still in awe of the Arch Magus’s power play but he was no longer crippled with fear. He took his horse by the reins and hurried after the others. Uldini’s aura hurt his eyes if he loo
ked at it for too long, so he concentrated on his surroundings instead.

  The shimmering ribbon he had seen from the distance and on which he was now walking turned out to be a thick bed of moss that felt soft and feathery under his feet yet provided a secure footing. Ahren could see no kerbstone, but despite this the bed of moss was always three paces wide and led them into the wood, curving here and there around the giant trees. He looked around but neither boots nor hooves left their prints on the cultivated moss. Ahren didn’t know of any plants that were so robust and his admiration for the elves increased. If the path leading them on was a minor miracle, then what wonders awaited them in the middle of the forest? He continued to study the scene around him and saw something moving in the branches high above him. A white-haired figure in leather armour and with a long bow in his hand was following them, hopping with fluid movements from branch to branch in the same way that Ahren used to jump from stone to stone as he crossed the little river at home. The grace and ease of movement almost distracted him from the danger the longbow above their heads presented. A quick look around revealed that at least six armed elves were keeping pace with them above and he was in no doubt that he hadn’t spotted them all.

  The apprentice wanted to talk with the others about them, but Falk was caught up in his own troubles and it would be impossible to have a quiet word with Uldini without going too near the lightning flashes that he was still emitting. The discharges seemed harmless enough as they were causing no damage to their surroundings, but the young man didn’t want to risk his health on this assumption. So he said nothing, tried to ignore the armed escorts above them and concentrated instead on the elves who were leading them. High cheekbones and pointed chins gave their faces a somewhat triangular appearance. Their silver eyes twinkled forth from their finely drawn features. Their movements were supple and they almost came across as animals of prey that had been dressed in a human form. Now that they were moving, Ahren could see the functionality of their armouring. The variously shaped tiles of hardened leather floated on two levels, one over another and occasionally he could see leather strips, which connected the tiles, shining in the gaps between them. As he watched the elves move, he realized that this type of armouring offered total freedom of movement and the body was always protected by at least one layer of leather as the tiles harmoniously interacted with each other. Serpentine patterns were engraved on the individual tiles and so every movement of the elves presented a new combination of swirls and spirals that dazzled the eyes. He got a headache if he watched the patterns for any length of time.