Delver Magic I: Sanctum's Breach, Jeff Inlo [buy e reader .txt] 📗
- Author: Jeff Inlo
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The passing land became more and more isolated, the road less kept. Carefully managed plots of planted wheat or corn turned into endless stretches of untouched fields where tall grass flourished. Wild flowers greeted them at first, but soon most closed their petals in anticipation of the coming rain. Weeds grew from the center of the dirt lane, rocks and holes appeared more regularly and as much in their path as upon the sides of the road. The number of travelers and roadside farmers dwindled to nothing.
The hills became steeper ahead as Ryson turned them to the southwest. They were now far enough north to avoid contact with even the outer limits of Burbon’s farmland, and it allowed Ryson to draw a direct bead upon Sanctum. Its peak was not yet visible to them, but his delver senses allowed him to focus upon it as if it were right before him. They would avoid the growing inclines of the mountains ahead by cutting through the sliver of forest that separated Sanctum from these lands.
A gleam grew in each of the elves’ eyes as the first true signs of Dark Spruce formed on the horizon. These were no scattered saplings set as markers for farmers. The growing clusters of trees rose tall and proud. At first sight, gaps appeared, created by the axe of the budding farm population, but soon, even these disappeared. To the south and to the west, the trees thickened, claiming this land as their own and defying all who might try to raze them.
The clouds now covered the entire sky, but other than a few droplets, the rain stayed away. The wind blew stronger and shuffled the leaves of the trees which now surrounded them. Holli followed Ryson’s directions and kept the party moving through sparser sections of the forest where paths proved wide enough for the Dzeb’s cart to pass. Still, enough cover of branches and leaves existed overhead to prevent a drenching if the constant rain did finally arrive.
Ryson continued his scouting activity. He did so now, however, with greater care. He no longer looked for the farmer or the merchant, but for obstacles created by the wild tainted magic. His own encounters with the undead, with goblins, and with vampire burned fresh in his mind. He finished the final leg of the journey completely on foot, allowing Holli to lead his horse. He watched, smelled and listened for any sign of danger, or of a scent he could not recognize.
He asked Holli to slow the pace to allow him to completely circle the group in order to prevent an ambush from the rear. She agreed reluctantly but the speed in which they reached this point allowed her the luxury of such care. Even if they slowed to a walk, they would reach the base of Sanctum before nightfall. With the delver’s agility, they could maintain a casual trot and still allow him the chance to scout all directions before they stumbled upon something unawares.
The rest of the party remained at ease, even in the thickening forest. They found security, even comfort in Holli’s careful guidance and in Ryson’s unquestionable skills. As they witnessed the delver circling the party and on guard for even the slightest hint of danger, any doubts or fears simply evaporated. If there was a threat, they knew they would be warned far in advance, and that any pitfall would be avoided. It was only at the first sight of Sanctum that this calm confidence began to dissolve.
Through the trees, they could all see the peak, and soon enough, even the side of this hollow mountain. In the backdrop of a gray and purple sky, with the wind blowing steady from the west, the reality of what they yet faced stung their consciousness just as sleet falls in the dormant season.
The peak called to their attention as if a glowing beacon in a night sky. Those that would actually enter Sanctum, as well as those that accompanied them, found themselves searching their souls for inner strength and determination. Elves, dwarves, algors, and humans alike; they all knew the desperate facts of their dilemma. It wore upon their spirit as rough pine needles would scrape upon raw skin.
They were to enter a place that was constructed to defy entry. They were to pass obstacles older than the ways of life they had grown accustomed. If ever a prospect appeared out of reach, it was indeed the Sphere of Ingar. This was no simple quest, no pioneer adventure. This was history, legends, evil and magic rolled into one unyielding task. Even the delver’s spirit, his desire to uncover truths long hidden, was squelched by the enormity, by the unquestionable magnitude of their final aim. Sanctum was a monument to the impossible, to what was not meant to be. Yet this handful of travelers moved onward to conquer the impossible, driven by the belief that it was theirs to overcome. This, and only this, pressed them forward and brought them all to Sanctum’s base.
Holli dismounted and met Ryson on foot. She requested a full scout of the perimeter surrounding the mountain’s base. If something hid on the other side, she would know of it before they ventured forward. To the others, she directed them to bring their horses to a cluster of trees. Each rider dismounted and tethered their animal to a branch or tree trunk and waited patiently as Holli quietly scanned the area. Her darting eyes covered every direction in an instant. With equal speed, she decided upon her strategy.
“It is not wise to bring the entire group up the mountain. There is little shelter from the storm. Only those that will ultimately enter Sanctum must make the climb. The others should stay here.”
Mappel responded with a doubtful eye. He spoke with a quicker tongue than was his norm, and with an agitated tone. “You would have us wait here? Is that truly wise? I think it might be more valuable for us to accompany you. We can wait at the entrance, make sure you gain entry. We would also be there to see you return. There is also the matter of Shayed. I believe she awaits us. She may have something important to offer all of us.”
Holli’s face held no expression. Sharp eyes continued to dart about the forest even as she replied to Mappel with a monotone voice. “I will accept whatever decision you make, but I would ask you to carefully consider why you might make such a decision. Is it truly to benefit our cause or is it to allow you a chance to see Shayed? We will not be able to use the horses in this climb. The eight algors, Matthew, and even yourself, would have to climb on foot. There is no doubt in my mind the added number would slow our ascent. Once we reach the summit and point of entry, what is it that you would hope to accomplish? Would you simply mull about in the open during this storm waiting for our return? Do we even know how long that might be?”
Mappel turned even more introspective than ever. He pondered the truth behind his desires. Realizing that there was much validity in Holli’s words, he abdicated his position.
“You are correct.” His voice was hollow and sorrowful. “We can do little for you now. We will stay here. With Matthew’s assistance and that of the remaining algors, I shall build a shelter from branches and leaves. It is a wise decision.”
Sensing the sorrow in the elder elf, Holli offered a conciliatory option. “There is no reason you can not climb Sanctum after the storm is over. Perhaps even before midnight, the sky will be clear. You could rest now and begin your climb then. You could do so at your own leisure without worrying how you might slow the progress of those that must enter. If Shayed has a message, I will ask her to repeat it to you upon your arrival. Would that be satisfactory?”
“More than satisfactory,” Mappel replied with a warming smile. He appeared as if youth was returning to his frail form.
With a decision made, Holli’s tone returned to that of stern caution. “I will ask that you all remain alert both here and upon Sanctum. If goblins are infesting Dark Spruce, they might attack at any time. When climbing Sanctum, take even greater care. The stone will become slick with the rain. The ropes we use, we shall leave for your climb as well. Use them and remain patient. If you fall and are injured, there will be no way for us to help you.”
All ten algors responded immediately. “Do not concern yourself with possible injuries from falling. We are again blessed with the power of healing. Nearly all the knowledge is returning slowly.”
Holli turned toward them with a questioning stare. “Are you all of equal ability in this matter?”
They responded separately, talking one after the other, sometimes speaking over another’s words.
“No.”
“Some have greater ability.”
“We each have some of the knowledge.”
“The delver picked us that way.”
“Those that could not heal were not picked by the delver.”
“I have shown the greatest power.”
At that, Holli held up her hand to stop them. Their chatter ended as if Holli held their mouths shut. She nodded to the last to speak.
“You have displayed the greatest power?”
“Yes,” the single algor answered.
Though it was near impossible for most to distinguish one algor from another, Holli made it a point to do so. During her escort of them from the desert to Connel, she noted the smallest differences. She examined such slight characteristics as the distance between the eyes, the length of their arms, the number of purple spots on their heads, and the hue of the yellow that colored their chests. With such an eye for detail, she was able to distinguish individuals from the ten. “You were also selected by Ryson to be one of the two to enter Sanctum.” She looked back at Mappel as if to punctuate a hidden meaning in the selection.
A gleam rose in the elder elf’s eye. “More providence.”
The cliff behemoth’s voice rolled softly over them all. “As I have said, it is the will of Godson.”
Stephen and Matthew beamed, and even Holli allowed a smile to cross her lips.
It lasted but a heartbeat, for her face quickly became as stern as it would ever become. The time was near for their ascent of Sanctum, but one last preparation was required. Her eyes stopped checking for signs of danger about them as she fastened them upon Mappel. Her words held the importance of what she was about to request. “It is time you reveal what the elves placed in Sanctum and how we might overcome it.”
Mappel looked at his staff and then at the ground. Strange. He had been so willing to speak of the secret, so willing to release it in hopes that others might do the same. In his heart, ending the secrets meant breaking the bonds of the separation. It would represent the key to defeating Sanctum, the sphere, and the tainted magic that spread its curse across the land. But now, now that the time had truly come, he regretted having to speak of it. His lips became tight, as if he needed to consciously force them to mouth his words.
“So it is,” he spoke with a pained tongue. He could say nothing
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