Scene Five: Last Night in the Old Forest
...Of Act One: Enter Ryoku
In the eyes of Ryoku Dragontalen, we are in
The Old Forest, in the world of Harohto.
It is mid afternoon
On November 6th, 2017.
The breath slammed from my lungs as I hit the ground. Sira fell beside me, and I saw Will on my other side. Behind me, a piercing shriek cut through the woods like lightning. I spun around, scrambling for my weapon – but there was nothing.
Sira got to her feet, dusting her tight pants off with a grin. Will offered me a hand up, smiling too. Confused, I accepted, and he lifted me with unnerving ease.
"What... what just happened?" I asked, dazed.
"What the hell do you mean?" Sira demanded, but she was smirking. "Quick thinking on your behalf for once. Guess that has its costs, but don't waste my momentary gratitude. Literally never thought of using fire against that thing. Besides my sword, but... fire. Actual damn fire. I didn't know you could do it."
I tilted my head at her. "How did you...?" I trailed off, noticing the straps of her shield dangling uselessly off her arm. The broken metal shards of her shield splashed in a wide arc across the path, showing the monstrous velocity of the Keeper's strike. "Your shield."
She only grunted, ripping the straps from her arms and tossed them into the woods. "Whatever. Thing only reminded me of my home, anyway. Sinistra? She's a part of me, not Orden. And you," she added, "only apologize if it's damned necessary. Did you smash my shield with your puny fists? No? Didn't think so." She tossed her hair as she turned away, smirking at me in a somewhat teasing way. "If you apologize for everything, it makes your real apologies worthless."
"Sorr—"
I cut myself off, shaking my head. "Ugh. Okay, well what happened?"
"You summoned fire and surprised the Keeper at a precise moment," Will explained, but with the tone of speaking to a moron. His expression changed when I regarded him blankly. "Do you... honestly not recall?"
"It was the most useful thing I've seen you do," Sira remarked with a grin. "It was right there, and could have easily taken any of us down with those claws. Then you were there, and you threw up your staff, and there was this bright flash. You must have used a real burst of magic. I haven't seen anything like it, to be honest, but Orden's pretty unfamiliar with magic. And your eyes—"
I almost missed it, but Will silenced her with a sharp look. I looked at him until he turned his sapphire eyes to me with the innocence of a child. "My eyes what?" I asked accusingly. I looked between the two of them, who both, for the first time, appeared equally hesitant.
Will knelt down and retrieved my staff from the ground, where I hadn't noticed it next to a sizeable scorch mark across the dirt path. Were it not for that, I might not believe their story. It wasn't the first time I had a short gap in my memory, but it still smelt of trouble.
"Your eyes only looked rather red for a moment," Will assured me gently, placing the staff in my hands. His eyes were so earnest that I couldn't help but listen. "I believe it was but a reflection of that brilliant blaze. It was quite a batch! I am no more a magic practitioner than Kimball is an organized baker, but I have heard that staves may borrow your energy in a time of need. You fell almost immediately after. I followed, fearing you might strike your head on a stray rock – that would be an abrupt end to our journey!" He smiled complacently. "It might explain why you do not seem to recall."
I could only nod. Amid a pair who liked to save my life at regular intervals, it was hard to remain suspicious. He wouldn't keep something harmful from me, I felt. Kimball said something about staves borrowing energy when needed. "Will it be back?" I asked instead.
Will shrugged. "It was likely but scared off for now. Such a beast is stronger than a single spell, even a fully charged one. Something angers it, and I fear we might not see the end of this until its rage is quieted. That is why we must press on, and hopefully avoid running into it until we are prepared. We still have time to reach the Capital. We packed up early and have kept a good pace this morning."
"Fear's a good fuel," Sira remarked. "Still, doesn't the Capital close their gates early at this season? Bytold wouldn't shut up about the raiders and bandits."
We started down the trail again. "I don't understand," I piped up after a few minutes of silence. "The shopkeeper told me I'd figure out how to use the staff when I really needed it, but I don't remember at all."
Will shrugged. "I am not well versed in magic, but I believe adrenaline had a large role in that. My presumption is that your body supplied the necessary energy in a time of need, and the rush of the moment nearly knocked you unconscious. Perhaps we should take a moment in the city to gain some proper insight on the fact. Next we run into that creature, I imagine it would serve you well."
"Or practice with a real weapon," Sira suggested dryly. "There's a reason magic's all but extinct in Orden, except in the royal family: it's dangerous, mostly to you. Drawing untold amounts of energy from your body whenever it wants? A real weapon never does that to its host." She stared off into the trees. "Still, guess that fire did come in handy. You control that, and we might have this hunt in the bag."
Since neither could tell me much more about magic, I dropped the subject and focused on our hike. The terrain closer to the Capital was different. The trees spaced out more, and I even saw some signs of clear-cutting. It seemed the Capital taxed the forest far more than the people of Bytold, who largely left the woods alone. Autumn leaves showered the path around us on what turned out to be a mostly levelled-out path.
To my glee, I spotted some more wildlife around here. Will pointed out a small pack of deer mulling over the corner of a creek a ways off the path. Only one buck herded them, one with antlers in an impressive array around its head and laden with moss, and a few fawns with them. I wanted to get a closer look, but Will strongly recommended against it. Apparently, the normally docile creatures could be territorial.
Further down, Will stopped me at a set of tracks. He informed me that they belonged to a type of beast he called a Ragul. It sounded something like a bear from his description, but the huge mammals often had hides of greenish, moss-like tints and known to be quite aggressive. He showed me how the edges of the print betrayed how recently it had been there, which he wagered to be within the last twelve hours. It was with this in mind that he quickly turned us down another deer trail, this one arcing toward the Capital in a straighter line.
We took a brief rest around midday, but our moods kept different from our last break atop the plateau. Will and Sira sparred with each other, an impressive feat I was sure I would never see replicated. Will moved like a stream, his footsteps careful and planned, and his lance like a bend in the river. Sira was like fire. She never stopped moving, and her eyes kept alight with the promise of battle. From afar, they looked to be an even match even as they both practiced wildly different styles. I tried my hand at practicing with them, but nothing I could do matched up to their expertise. Will tried to practice with his gladius against my knife, but I always wound up in situations that would have killed me in a brawl.
For a spell, he tried to teach me how to use his lance. I couldn't muster up enough strength to do much with the weapon, even with his advice on footwork and how to hold my shoulders. He let me swing it around, trying for angles over my head and behind my back, but I dropped the long weapon frequently. Then he offered for me to try his gladius. The blade was just longer than the distance between my longest finger and elbow, plus a hand and a half for the handle.
No matter what, though, I couldn't seem to keep a grip on the weapon. When I went to swing it exactly as Will asked, it lurched from my grip like something snatched it from the air. Will watched with curiosity, switching me back and forth from the gladius to the knife and watching my form as though it might explain something. I never lost grip on my knife, though.
As we forged on, the path ascended again as we made the final climb toward the Capital. The sun remained a glowing red beam upon the mountains for much of our walk through the woods as evening neared. When I asked Will about the length of time it remained for, he said our altitude and the forest canopy affected our perception of daylight. Behind us, darkness already shrouded much of the forest, especially at the dip in the valley between us and the plateau of our last camp.
Before the sun finally dipped behind the mountains, Will stopped me and led me through a gap in the trees. I followed, arms wrapped around myself for warmth even under my cloak in the evening chill.
At the opening in the trees, my eyes fell upon the Capital of Harohto while the sun lowered behind it. Light reflected off the stone walls in shimmering waves like an aurora, but in a slew of warm colors from a set of summery watercolor paints. Brilliant waves of red, orange, gold, and white hung around the walls and into the sky in the most breathtaking sight I'd seen yet. It gave off a sort of mirage that clung to my vision even as we left the sight behind us. Will looked disappointed as Sira dragged us onward. My favorite thing about Will was how he'd likely seen this a thousand times, and similar other beauties, but it never ceased to be beautiful to him.
Will explained the phenomenon as we walked. Sunset stones were mined from deep within the Border Range, the mountains we hiked alongside to the east. He wasn't sure about the possibility that they might ward off unwarranted threats, but he knew they'd been discovered when an avalanche revealed part of the sunset stone mine, which had been largely unremarkable until the sun fell and the valley had been showered with an array of color. In terms of strength, the material was little different from regular iron and coppery ores, which meant it could be refined into standard armor. Apparently, they kept that purpose mostly for ceremonial usage rather than direct combat. I imagined a squad of soldiers caught when they tried to enter the enemy base because their armor started glowing.
A deeper chill set in as we climbed, and Will daydreamed of November snow in Harohto. Sira dismissed it as ridiculous, but I wondered about it. Snow wasn't a good thing in my world, just like water and rain. Here, it could easily be a thing of beauty like so much else.
Our pace quickened as darkness fell, mostly out of fear of being stuck in the woods another night. The moon hadn't appeared to guide our path, so Will led the way with a makeshift torch. Within an hour, his idea dampened as clouds arrived from nowhere to begin a steady stream of rainfall upon us. Will cursed, abandoning his torch, and we were forced to forge ahead in darkness. I fell so many times on the path that my body felt a seemingly permanent ache settling in. Atop the tenderness in my legs from our day of travel, it was almost unbearable.
It seemed like forever until the trees finally came to an abrupt halt around us, and we stumbled out into a clearing. I felt an immediate change in atmosphere when the great walls of Harohto's Capital stuck out before us, lit by a pair of sheltered torches alongside an iron gate. The walls shone no longer and appeared just like simple stone, slick with rain. From this close, it all seemed larger than life, spanning along the edge of the forest with no clear end in sight. The forest curved around the walls until either side of us looked back into the woods.
"Welcome to Harohto," Sira droned, "the capital of boredom."
Will choked at this, but I couldn't spark a smile. Everything about the huge city seemed immediately intimidating. Would they let us in, or were we condemned to another night in the woods? It hadn't been all that bad, but I was soaked to the bone in such a way that I wondered if we could even start a fire.
As we worked our way across the field, a thought occurred to me. "Do they speak a different language in the city?" I asked.
Sira muttered something about me, but Will didn't laugh this time. "That is actually an interesting trait about Defenders, one which I am not surprised you are unfamiliar with. I could not begin to explain why, but Defenders are known to be something of a natural bridge between languages. Sira and I are spirits, so we are professed in several languages and can understand each other regardless. However, if that weren't the case, we might not be able to understand one another if we were apart. Say she spoke the Ordenite tongue, and I spoke Syaotoan.
"Harohto does have its own common tongue," he added, "varied only slightly from that of Syaotoan. Harohtian is a mere stone throw from common English, a little less dignified than Syaotoan."
I raised a brow. It was a much bigger response than I expected, and focusing on the topic was helping alleviate the cold. "So I never have to learn another language while I'm here?"
"Apparently not," Sira replied, but there was a strange sort of accent to her words. When she spoke again, it was gone. "You understood that, right? See? You just picked up on the Ordenite tongue, and that ain't as common as Syaotoan."
"I heard the accent," I replied, perplexed. "That's all, though."
That seemed to surprise both of them, and they exchanged glances. "Orden has an accent?" Sira asked Will.
"Syaotoan certainly does not," Will replied formally, and his own words had a sharp, dignified accent to them almost like the people in Bytold. As he said, it sounded more crisp and refined.
"It does," I informed him with a chuckle. "Nicer than I expected."
"You sound something like this, Will," Sira imitated his accent, but in a drawn-out and exaggerated way. Then she cleared her throat, and spoke, "'Your cow looks like a mate.' How's that for Syaotoan?"
Will's brow rose, and he smirked at her over his shoulder as we walked. "What did you try to say? If that was a greeting, I hope you have never spoken to a Syaotoan farmer."
The expression on Sira's face was well worth the smack on the shoulder I got for laughing. I wished I could hear how their own languages sounded, but being a permanent translator might be interesting on its own.
The rain only picked up as we crossed the plains. Puddles formed quickly in the mood, reflecting the bright glow of a full moon that started to poke out around the western clouds, which burst apart as we trampled through them.
"They could easily refuse us at this hour," Will said as a warning. "This season is wrought with thieves and bandits. Without writs, we could be dismissed, and it would be justified."
"But they won't," Sira reputed. "We have a Defender, and we're both international soldiers. If they've got half a brain between their shoulders, they'll let us in."
Will cleared his throat. "An unregistered Defender, a member of a missing squad, and a soldier from Orden. I am uncertain."
Guilt gripped my chest. In the fun of traveling with this pair, I'd almost forgotten about the missing squad. I didn't dare voice that thought.
Lightning flared across the sky. The resounding boom came from nearby, scaring the wits out of me and rocking the earth like a cradle in rough winds. A bold flash of light shone across the stone walls of the kingdom, shedding light on a pair of soldiers winging the gates and awaiting our arrival.
When we closed in, one raised a gauntleted hand in greeting. "Hail, travelers!" More thunder rolled nearby. The storm was worsening more quickly than it would rescind. "Give us a reason to shelter ye for the night! This eve, we've turned away our fair share o' travelers. Raiders flock around their camp in the eastern woods, strugglin' to steal a dry room from us!"
The pair of guards dressed in what I could only call traditional European, plain steel with full helms and gleaming plates, though it was ill maintained – I noted rust on the sockets of their armor. They saw many a rain, and little a fight.
Sira saluted them. "Sira Jessura, swordstress of Orden. Uh, ex-soldier."
"I am Will Ramun, from the patrol of Field Commander Lancet Cooper. I am a crusader, deviated from my original company in favor of..."
He gestured to me, implying my title might be all that was necessary. I swallowed hard. "Ryoku Dragontalen. Defender."
The guards shifted uncomfortably, like thin bolts of lightning shot through to their armor.
"A Defender, ye say?" one of the guards asked. "Long time since we seen one o' your kind around here. Yer a novice, by the look o' ye. Can ye fight well? Or use some kind of otherworldly magic?"
"He can, and it has been a long journey for us," Will replied. Out of the three of us, he seemed the one who'd talk our way into the city with the most ease. "We come to the city in search of aid. A foul beast plagues the Old Forest. Much of my squad may have been lost, or may have come through here ahead of us. We seek to regroup, acquire help, and get to the bottom of the situation."
"Aye, that'd be the Keeper." One of the guards tipped the visor of his helm, peering at Will with jaded green eyes. "Ye did say you were from Lancet's team, didn't ye?" he asked. "A couple o'em came through here not long ago mutterin' about such things. Must've been... two days past, I'd wager. Rough shape."
Will and I exchanged glances. His eyes were sharp. "How many, exactly? There should have been seven of them."
The guard shrugged. "Beats me," he replied. "Like I said, rough shape, and I don't watch this bloody wall day n' night. Could've been three, could've been more. Though you Syaoto lots sure stand out." He turned to his partner, who nodded once. "Right. You got can go on in. Best o' luck an' all that." He reared his head back toward the gate and shouted, "Open the gates, ye ol' codger!"
A great roll of lightning shook the field as he shouted and battered my eardrums so loudly that I thought I might faint. The next sound was the resounding roll of grating steel, almost as aggravating as the thunder itself. The gate was lifted by great black chains, folding up somewhere within the stone entry. I thought I recalled the medieval word associated with the type: a portcullis.
"One last thing," Will said as we stared into the city gates, where a few citizens and guards poked their heads through, curious of what travelers were allowed entry at this hour. "Where might I find these other members of my squad?"
The other guard guffawed, which caused Will to give him a look I'd only ever seen the friendly soldier conjure up once: against Lancet. He quickly straightened, and replied, "That'll be the Grand Hospital. Southwest from the gates as soon as ye go in. It'll be closed to visitors at this hour, much like anything else but the bars and inns. Best bet is to wait. That is, if the one o' em's still alive."
The foolish soldier had the nerve to guffaw again. By Will's expression, it took all his might not to strike the soldier down where he stood. Thinking of the faces of Oliver and the others, and imagining them injured or dead, made me barely resist the notion myself.
As it was, Will harshly pushed his way past the man without a word of apology, landing the man on his rump in the mud. Sira snorted, but she didn't dare laugh for the sake of either Will or the soldiers.
I gazed up nervously as we passed through the entry into the Capital. Amid the stormy weather, I spotted homes of a decidedly European style, though with peaked roofs and constructed mostly of brick, stone, or hardwood. I kept close to Will and Sira as we entered the largest city I'd ever been in, wondering just what awaited me inside.