Arik and Aern had ridden the horse fairly hard the last leg of the journey. To rest the gelding Arik decided to dismount and walk it back into the village leaving Aern dozing in the saddle. It had been a slow and peaceful journey down from the northern end of the valley on foot. However, just as the pair were within sight of the village Arik heard a noise which also startled the horse, but the valley echo had been distorted by the wind. He had thought it possibly a bear. But bears arent known for activity during winters, not unless rabid or starving. Even so best to be cautious, Arik found himself following training, listening for further sounds and adjusting his belt and sheath for faster sword draw. It was a grim nostalgia that had been engraved into his very bones and probably unnecessary so close to home.
Passing the first few houses on the road in Risvale, Arik determined they were probably safe so relaxed his guard a little. Not long now they would be home, warm dry and safe. A mead with father should be in order, maybe the old smith would know something about metal skin or the shadow golems. For he always loved tall tales and fireplace talk. With no more daylight Arik had to light a linen and straw torch to help illuminate the path. Which is when the young soldier saw a commotion by the palisade gates. Several locals were creating a rabble about something, directed at one of the town guards.
As the former soldier drew closer to the gathering he noticed that the guard they were arguing with was Cresius. Arik swore, Cresius was known to be an unreasonable man that hated the Icanii and anyone not of Imperial blood for that matter. The townsfolk wouldn't get any cooperation from him. Just as Arik came into earshot, he heard Cresius saying "Probably just a bear or a pack of wolves. We don't have the men to send anyone into the hills, I'm sure you're all just are imagining things!" Several of the crowd turned looking almost startled by the sudden appearance of the smiths son. Although Arik was sure he had made his presence fairly obvious.
"'Is that young Arik? The smith son? Come closer lad let the crowd see ye" came a curt greeting from amongst the crowd. Walking slowly towards the group Arik announced himself.
"Pleasant eventide to you all, I am indeed Arik the Smithson. Whatever brings all of you out into the cold tonight?"
"We all 'ere on account of the screaming we heard from up the torr. The last of which was guttural and sad sounding. These others say they gon' seen an broken cart, which they passed on way up 'ere too." Came the same gruff voice that had offered the previous greeting. Arik could see it was old man Malcurn, with a fleece of sheepskin draped over his shoulders.
"Nonsense, just your imaginati..." Arik waved his hand at Cresius, who having been cut short snarled at Arik with an intense loathing. "Please let the man finish officer" requested the smiths son.
"Saw your father pas' on his way home, not too long after he had gone did come the screams." Uttered the old man. "We com' up an' get a guard to investigate. But theys sayin' probably just wolves and dismissin' us tribes folk. I'm tell ye something worrying afoot there is."
"Aye!" sounded the voice of a young tribesman in the back of the crowd. "We heard the screams; we live close by you Arik. Was clear as day screams!"
"It's clear everyone is worried. But if I go scout the western tor seein' as the guards are busy. Would that help at all?" Replied Arik to the worried Malcurn.
"Aye it would! You fought with the fangs didn't ye lad?" said the man in sheepskin.
Aern had awoken startled partway through the encounter. only to catch the end of the conversation. Arik just smiled.
"The breastplate gave it away right?" he said as he then chuckled. "I'll go take a look then. Where's this cart?"
"The carts south, on the route to yer home Arik." came a younger voice from the back of the crowd.
Before Aern knew it Arik was again walking south. The boy saw the soldier mumble something to himself.
"What's the matter Arik?" asked the child.
"Something unusual, can't know though unless I look." replied the soldier.
"But you seem angry!" Stated Aern.
"Well that has to do with the attitude of the town guard Aern." said Arik, somewhat melancholy.
It was not too far down the path when the pair came upon the abandoned cart. Immediately though both Aern and Arik knew the cart. Searching around now Arik stumbled across the same evidence his own father had. A scrap of blue cloth, spots of blood and tracks heading west. Though this time there were extra tracks, Arik thought them to be his fathers.
"Arik, isn't that Ursla's cart?" queried Aern.
"Aye lad, that it is." came Ariks response, though he was looking directly at Aern now. Aern saw the look on his face and felt his skin grow cold.
"What's happened?" asked the boy.
"I won't know until I see for myself. Come I must get you home to mother." Almost as soon as he had uttered the words, Arik had mounted the gelding in a single swift movement and had heeled the beast into motion once more. This time riding faster than a canter. Within a short few moments, the beast bore them into the courtyard of the smiths home, coming to a halt with a disapproving snort.
Ilga, was stood in front of the house a terrified look upon her face.
"Mother! What's going on?" demanded Arik.
"I do not know son, though neither your sister nor your father have come home yet and something terrible is happening up the Torr I can sense it!" Ilga's words were full of fear and yet her eyes full of understanding. Arik felt something in his chest, a pain a panic. Fear maybe, but he bit his lip and swallowed.
"Mother I must go up there! Take Aern into your care." insisted Arik. His blood now hot and pumping, he found himself pushing aside disparaging thoughts. He still did not know the situation, but for his whole life he knew his mother was never wrong about her 'senses'. So pulling his dagger from the horse's saddle, he looked at Aern. Who gave him a nod of approval. Feeling somewhat encouraged by the boy Arik took off as fast as his feet would carry him, back towards the tracks he had previously discovered.
Aern was watching the young man run off into the night. When he heard Ilga's voice from behind him. "Aern, come inside. Just help me with the horse first. Don't worry Arik will be fine." So Aern shuffled from atop the gelding, plodding to the ground then proceeded to assist Ilga to lead it into the small stable. Where they removed the saddle and provided some hay for the beast to eat. Then they made their way indoors. The fire was alight and Aern felt its warmth flood over him. The fire's light flickered from the walls and lack of noise from family members made the whole place feel empty and slightly eerie.
"Here Aern, eat something." said Ilga, handing the boy a slice of bread with some fresh butter. The child happily wolfed down the snack. But the woman just sat watching the lad stuff bread into his face. This was somewhat suddenly unpleasant for Aern and mid mouthful he stopped and uttered an apology. "Um Suwy Ilba, Iwl swow down." looking somewhat ashamed.
Ilga couldn't help but laugh. "You sure do seem like a sweet child Aern. Even if you're not a child at all. I feel I know you better than you realise."
Aern felt a sharp prick in the back of his mind. "Not yet boy, Its not time. Don't say a word." echoed a familiar voice. Aern himself felt relief that he could hear master, but fear and panic could only describe the situation he found himself in. "Calm down boy" the voice again.
Ilga smiled again. "Don't worry Aern you don't have to say anything. Its fine. now off to bed with you, I feel you'll be needing your sleep."
"Shit!" said that voice in the back of his head. Aern found himself wide eyed in disbelief. But he shuffled off his seat and walked toward his room. Slightly despondent, he felt as though something had happened and he had missed it entirely even though he was experiencing it.
Aern just sat on his bed a moment, he thought sleep would be really, quite nice about now. So much excitement in the last two days. He sighed. "Excuse me, what do you think you're doing?" sounded that voice again.
"Nothing master, I was about to go to sleep. I feel uneasy." Replied Aern, inside his head.
"That's what I mean! you feel uneasy for a reason! Go to the window and hop out. There's something important we HAVE to do and we're running out of time." the voice almost shouted.
Aern did not bother to reply, he just got up and moved toward the window. Where he unfasted the shutters and pushed one half open. That was enough for him to lever his small frame over the sill and to roll to his feet outside. "Luckily I am still dressed enough, its cold" he found himself thinking. Quietly closing the shutter he thanked the lack of wind as a blessing. Turning then toward the darkness the child then sent one last message inwards.
"So which way do I go master?" He only heard a groan in response.
"Aern, look up. Do you see the stars?"
"erm yes, they are bright." replied the confused child.
"Well remember I said the stars move, and that there are three stars in a line?"
"Oh yes the belt! It moves East to West." came the smug response.
"Yes well find them, then turn around you'll see the mountain you need to climb."
"Thanks master!" feeling somewhat chirpier Aern followed the instructions and started headed West up the side of the Torr. "When you come to some woods, you will need to go into them." said Aern's master then. "What? but its dark!" said Aern fearfully.
Ilga cleaned up the table then followed Aern towards the bedrooms. Passing Aern's door she leaned in closely to listen. She only heard the creak of the window shutter. Smiling she looked up and said "You rotten old rascal!" then went off to her chambers to rest. If she slept she would not spend the time worrying.
Arik had dismounted at the broken cart. If he were to traverse the torr in this light on foot would be better. Thus, he had begun his climb at full speed, following the multiple sets of fading tracks. The former soldier controlled his breathing and used his extensive knowledge of this terrain to weave through obstacles. As he approached familiar woodland though he slowed. The cold air was burning his lungs and his body felt tired already. It had been a long day and night with little rest. Now he found himself with fresh challenges thrown his way.
The woodland although familiar would be noisy to move through fast, and he didn't know if the people who made the tracks were inside or not. Not to mention the low light and pitch blackness inside. But with his instincts all screaming at him he knew he had to enter to find out what skulduggery was afoot. So, staying low he barely even paused ducking into the thickets he followed the general direction of the tracks.
It was pitch black and cold. Arik felt the sweat evaporating from his skin and his temperature dropping. He knew he would have to move faster to stay warm without all the bulky clothing, but he didn't think he would notice it this soon. "Must be colder tonight than previous." he thought. The hair on Ariks arms suddenly started to stand on end and the young man felt a shiver run up his spine. Stopping and dropping low, the training from master Hasain making his body move automatically. He had even stopped breathing, totally eliminating his presence.
Silence. Nothing but silence. Arik smelled blood then, a familiar smell that he had gotten used to over long campaigns. This was fresh blood though still warm and pungent. Then his senses flared as he heard a groan a feminine groan. With a feline grace, Arik managed to manoeuvre toward the groan. In the pitch darkness the voice groaned again, and Arik realised he was right above it. Not hearing any signs of life or activity anywhere nearby. The soldier decided to risk everything right then.
Reaching around himself Arik found a somewhat girthy stick. Wrapping some linen around one end he then took a small wax parcel from his waist and rubbed some pitch from within to the linen. With the back of his dagger and a small rock Arik chipped until he produced enough sparks to light his makeshift torch. Suddenly Arik was blind but only briefly. He squinted and looked down away from the light source he was holding. A petite girl was laying on the floor, stirring from the light. she looked injured but not too seriously as Arik couldn't see any blood, as his eyes focussed he saw that it was Agne, Ursla's friend and that she had a bruise around her throat. Her lips were slightly blue but she seemed awake and semi-conscious.
"This is bad, something sinister has happed here." Arik thought aloud as he stood dup. Just as he did, he heard a thud from behind him. Torchlight now flickering he spun on his heel drawing his dagger. Only to see a large man laying upon a pool of blood, Arik paced over to the body and quickly realised who it was. Panic and fear erupted inside of him again, from the belly upward to his throat, as if he were about to choke. Diving to his knees, blood staining his boots he checked the man for a pulse.
"Father no! Hear me father hear my voice. It's me Arik, you need to breathe!" Arik felt himself shouting. The burly man's pulse was almost gone, its beat shallow and weak and his breathing had already stopped. Arik felt tears behind his eyes waiting to erupt. "Father please breathe!" he felt himself shouting again. The young man, almost frantic, then that was all almost immediately followed by a deep seething anger. "What happened here is not some accident, this is murder and indecency. Whomever committed these acts.."
"My master says to stay your anger." came a small indifferent voice from the shadows. Arik had already engaged twisting toward the sound Arik had released his dagger and as if time had slowed he saw it flying through the air toward a small figure, a boy with light hair. "Aern! What's he doing here?" Ariks thought process ran beyond comprehensible speeds only realising the fatal mistake after it was too late. Then just as quickly as the second it had taken Arik to do all this, a bright viridian light burst forth shining in front of the small boy. Arik saw his dagger stop mid-flight and fall flat on the floor. All motion gone.
Once the green light had stopped burning the retina of all present. Arik thought to re-adjust to the darkness yet found he in fact did not need to. The green light had not gone, in fact it was still present his eyes had just adjusted almost immediately. Arik found the light to be soft now and almost calming. Then, he saw it was emanating from a perfectly smooth ball, that stood grasped by wooden fingers upon a staff. For now vanished was the small fair haired boy Aern, and there stood an old man, with a white beard and a brown cape. Holding what Arik could only find himself describing as a magic staff.
"Have I died? Did that green light kill me?" asked Arik, tensing up." Are you the reaper?" Fearing the response.
"No lad!" laughed the old man rather haughtily.
"Well where did Aern go?"
"No, No lad, just listen. Aern is fine, he's just gone home. I am also called Aern. It's a pleasure to finally meet you Arik! Though it seems the circumstances seem rather dire don't they. Well don't threat it's of little consequence." said the old man with a very lacklustre tone.
"I don't think the death of my father is of little consequence!" replied Arik. "Besides who are you really, what is that magic and where is Aern?"
"Hold on for a moment laddie, didn't I say you need to stay your anger. Besides, your father. He's not dead." a smile erupted across this Old Aern's face. Immediately the old man strode toward the body of Rigurd. Arik wanted to stop him but found his legs wouldn't move. "What are you doing old man?"
Aern ignored the youths temper and knelt beside Rigurd's lifeless body. Feeling for a pulse the strange old man grunted then began to speak aloud. Almost as if he were chatting with the body. "Well Rig, you really went and did it this time. You very nearly went for that final adventure. Always were a romantic fool. I know it hurt's but just hang on to those flesh an bones. Don't go drifting!" as he was speaking the Old Aern tipped his staff toward the blood on the floor, the light slowly changed from that viridian green to a scarlet red. "It's still warm, good. Let the critters do the work." Arik stood agape as the blood began to seethe and move by itself and pour back up his father's body, back into the wound that slew the smith. Watching as the wound its self, started to knit itself back up. Arik felt fear begin to replace the awe at what he had witnessed. "Just who is this old man?" He thought to himself.
"I have told you previous I am Aern, the other Aern is safe. Your father will also soon be out of immediate danger too! So, calm down and breathe please for your own sake." snapped the old man.
"Wait you heard me?" asked Arik "What about my father. His blood was on the floor, then..." he trailed off.
"Don't worry so much it's a process. Now the easy bit is done, next will require some concentration on my behalf, if no problems arise the old smithy should be hammering again in a full lunar cycle. Won't stop it hurting though. Can't help there I'm afraid." the reply felt complicated to Arik. But the Old man was smiling anyway.
"You talk funny Old Aern? Then what about the girl, Ange over there?" Arik asked.
"Well, Old Rigurd just got stabbed in the heart. It was lucky that it was only a glancing blow. To the heart that is. But he may yet live, though he will hurt. As for the girl." the old man taking on a more sombre tone with a sigh "I do not know. Have nae looked at her yet." he shrugged "But since you are thinking clearly now Arik. I think you should give chase, your sister may be in peril."
Just as the old man spoke Arik heard Agne moan a name. "Ursla" she groaned aloud. Ariks nostrils flared. He looked at Old Aern who only nodded. "Save these two!" and with those commanding words Arik was off moving like the wind. Following a deer trail to avoid major debris he quickly exited the woods. Extraordinarily his eyesight was working extremely well. He had adjusted to the darkness rapidly and he was making quick progress up the mountain he ran almost daily. This was his territory. He would not be outwitted here.
Taking one last look behind he saw a golden orb shoot from the woodland he had himself emerged from. This orb shot directly upwards where it exploded about a hundred foot above the treeline. The explosion was bright and loud, the bang was felt physically even this far away. But it didn't stop. Hundreds of smaller shining orbs burst forth and slowly drifted downwards. Arik was cresting the torr by this point and the light itself helped him notice a shadow moving quickly down the opposite side of the hill. It wasn't too far off; he could make out the shapes of two people. Gritting his teeth, the warrior of the Icanii fangs knew the hunt was on.