Delver Magic I: Sanctum's Breach, Jeff Inlo [buy e reader .txt] 📗
- Author: Jeff Inlo
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“They speak the same as ours,” Mappel answered simply.
“But what will I say to them?”
“What you must, what you have already said. You have convinced me that the time of change is at hand. Use the same emotion. Tell them all you have seen and heard, and I mean everything. Do not leave out a single item because you might fear it is too outlandish. The truth is that the algors may agree to meet us if your story is curious enough. Do not ask me to explain it. As I said before, they are a strange group. The more eccentric the story, the more inclined they are to look into it. It is how elflore describes them.”
“You also said this might be dangerous. Are you talking about the algors?”
“No, the algors will not harm you. They will either hide from you or simply ignore you. That is not where the danger lies. In reaching the desert, you must cross territory which is now certainly inhabited by mountain shags and river rogues. That is the danger you face.”
“I see.” Ryson rubbed his chin as he considered the proposal.
“Do not feel forced into this matter, Ryson Acumen,” Mappel counseled. “Look deeply into yourself. Let your own feelings dictate your answer.”
And he did address his feelings. This day he walked within the camp of elves, spoke with an elfin leader. Now, the exquisite opportunity of chasing another legend opened before him, something previously beyond his imagination. As a delver, he simply could not turn away.
“My own feelings tell me to go,” Ryson admitted, answering not only Mappel’s request, but the doubts in his own mind. “Not because I don’t fear the danger, because I do. It’s because as a delver I wish to find an algor. If I reject this, I would regret it. That much I’m sure of. Maybe this is my chance to finally prove that I’m not really mad, that this really is happening.”
“He should not face it alone,” Lief insisted. “He will not know how to deal with what he might encounter. Let me go with him. You do not need me in your travel. A guard will suffice.”
Mappel shook his head sternly. “Your lot is cast, Lief Woodson. But I agree he should not face the dangers alone. I will send a guard with him. I will send Holli Brances.” The elder elf paused. He considered a gnawing thought echoing through his own mind. He spoke of it almost as if the thought defied logic. “I also realize that a short sword taken from a goblin will not help him. He shall take the Sword of Decree. It will be needed in times yet to come, and perhaps it is foolish of me to give it to him. Risking its loss when it is truly needed seems more than foolish. For some reason, though, I sense it is necessary.”
“The Sword of Decree?” Ryson looked confused.
“A powerful weapon,” Mappel responded. “A weapon thats purpose was forged at the time of Sanctum. A weapon which will be needed again if we are to succeed. However, I sense an intertwining of events, and I believe it must go with you now.”
“It is a great honor he bestows upon you,” Lief added. “The sword has not been carried in battle or in defense as long as I have lived.”
“The truth is that it was created just after the Wizard War,” Mappel emphasized. “The sword is enchanted. It has been held in reserve for an occasion of dire need. Its time of service has come, and it will be needed for us to reach our objective.”
“I thought the sphere held all the magic?” Ryson remained confused. “How can the sword still be enchanted?”
Mappel offered a simple explanation. “The sphere took that energy which was free. It could not pull the power from items which held it inertly. That is why the sword remained unused for so long. It can hold its power for an eternity. As it is used, however, the power will dwindle. The enchantment can not be recharged as long as the magic in the air remains tainted. Each time the sword is used it will lose a portion of its enchantment.”
Another hundred questions erupted in the delver’s mind. He blurted out the first, his curiosity apparent. “How do you use this sword?”
“Like any other sword, but with greater energy. When it touches your foe, it will do far more than cut or stab. It will unleash power that will burn the very soul.”
Here, Ryson’s curiosity faded into aversion.
“I don’t know if I want such a sword,” Ryson stated seriously.
It was Mappel’s turn to reveal confusion. To bestow the sword was to bestow honor. He could not imagine why someone would refuse. “I do not understand.”
“I don’t want to use anything that’s going to burn someone’s soul,” Ryson admitted without shame. He did not wish to insult the elder or the honor, but the sword was simply beyond his desires. “I wasn’t happy with carrying the short sword.”
Lief spoke up, now with greater authority. “Your mind might change when you face a river rogue. It would not show you the same kind of mercy. There are simply times when you must act with force.”
Ryson stood firm to his principles. The thought of holding such a sword left him ill at ease. As a delver, it was always easy to identify danger before stumbling upon it, or to dodge threats as he dodged the arrow of the elf guard earlier that day. He understood defensive procedures, but shied away from any offensive undertaking.
“I can understand people protecting themselves,” he explained, “but I don’t agree with going out with the intention of killing. I can’t believe you would want me to go out with that attitude.”
Lief spoke coldly. “I realize that you may not understand this, but yes we would. Right now, you are still looking at things as if the world you knew was still intact. It is not.”
“If you’re talking about indiscriminate killing,” Ryson responded quickly, “I doubt my feelings on that will ever change. I was taught to respect life, all life. Even if I have to accept the existence of goblins, river rogues and even elves, you can’t expect me to give up my values.”
“Your values are based on a reality which will soon change greatly.”
Mappel waved his hand making it clear he wanted the debate to end.
“I understand your values are important,” the elder allowed. “They make you what you are. I doubt anyone will expect you to change them, but your perspective must change. You must accept what is about to happen.”
Ryson spoke undeterred of his position. “There is still right and wrong, good and evil.”
“Yes there is. Even more so now. The evil which lurks in the wilderness may strike at you horribly. I do not ask you to hunt this evil down. I ask you to carry the sword and use it to protect yourself. Use it to make sure your task succeeds. It might mean the end of everything if you fail.”
“What about this Holli person. Can’t you give her the sword?”
Mappel reflected upon the suggestion for long moments. “I can, if you insist, but then I will have to make a request of my own. I offer the sword for your protection not hers. If you wish her to carry it, you must always remain at her side. Do you agree to this?”
Ryson found the option acceptable. “Sure.”
Mappel did not allow this reply to end the discussion until he made one more request. “You must also vow to protect the sword, as it will protect you. Use it when necessary, but not with disregard. If something should happen to Holli, you must take up the sword. It must then never leave your side. I can not speak further of this. You simply must accept that if the sword is lost, so are we all.”
“If it’s that important maybe you should hold onto it.” Ryson offered.
“I believe it must go with you. Do you accept this responsibility?”
Ryson nodded.
“Very well,” Mappel spoke as if the matter was concluded. “Lief, summon Holli Brances. She will receive the sword and guide our new friend toward the desert. It will be a difficult path through the forest. It remains thick in that direction.”
“Do not fear for him on that,” Lief stated as he turned to fulfill Mappel’s request. “He climbs as well, perhaps even better than I.”
“That is high praise indeed. Come now, delver, it is time for me to tell you all I know of the algors.”
“Before you do, I have one more question for you. It seems to me we’re forgetting one piece of the puzzle.”
“Which might that be?”
“The delvers,” Ryson admitted. “Even if Reader Matthew can help us with the humans, and I can convince the algors, we still have no idea what my people put in Sanctum. I can’t even tell you who to ask.”
“I see.” Mappel paused as he closed his eyes to think for long moments before continuing. “Let us not fret upon that now. I will see what the reader can tell me and we shall see how you fare with the algors. As for the delvers, you are here with us at this moment. That is enough for now. We will deal with the puzzles of Sanctum when we bring others together. Perhaps, Matthew will help us with this problem.”
Ryson only shrugged.
Holli Brances moved alongside Ryson as they headed toward the Lacobian desert. She obviously took Mappel’s request seriously for she remained ever within arm’s reach. The Sword of Decree remained sheathed at her side, but Ryson knew it would take her less than a second to wield it against any potential foe.
Ryson made a point of watching Holli closely when she was first introduced to him. If Ryson’s life would be dependant upon this elf, he wished to know as much about her as possible. As only a delver would, he examined her movements, expressions and replies. He realized immediately that her personality was as diametrically opposed to Lief Woodson’s as possible. Where Lief’s emotions would burst forth, Holli remained stable and controlled. Lief had previously showed signs of humor, but Holli remained stoic and reserved. Ryson would never forget the look in Holli’s face when Mappel presented her with the sword. She barely breathed as she took possession, and a smile dared not crack her lips. She held it with the care a mother holds a newborn, but not with the same emotion. She said not a word. She only nodded her head as if willingly accepting some Herculean task.
Holli Brances looked very much like an average human female, except of course for her pointed ears. She stood tall and slender, but no more than some of the appearance conscious girls from Connel. In truth, her most distinguishable characteristic was her darting eyes. Even when resting, her eyes flashed about constantly, drinking in every surrounding image. She took nothing for granted. She looked about, scanned the horizon, and watched for the slightest movement in all directions. One pass was evidently insufficient, for this surveillance continued unendingly.
Unable to ignore this trait, Ryson found the habit catchy. After but a few moments with the elf guard, he too, began to constantly scan his surroundings. Such diligence became strenuous as the two ventured further southward.
The forest increased in its density. Thick branches overwhelmed the travelers, limiting their movements and choice of paths. It also restricted their visibility which obviously discomforted the elf. She twisted and turned her neck with
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