Qassot collapsed into a sitting position.
"That was exhausting."
Dracoa had turned around and was now trying to snap at Riselus, who was trying to calm her down. I wandered over and hit her on the head with a rock. The light left her eyes.
"Oh, it's just you," she said. Before Riselus could ask what she meant by "It's just you", she continued, "Hope I didn't hurt you."
Riselus closed his eyes and didn't answer the question.
"What was that about?" Qassot asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Dracoa said.
"C'mon, you can tell me."
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"That was… intense," Aavern said.
"It's so hard to aim rocks," I commented.
"No, it's not," Aavern said.
"Yes it is!"
"I'm hungry," Qassot said as I threw some sand at Aavern. She had given up on asking Dracoa what the strange light was.
Dracoa threw a fish that had fallen out of the block of water at her. She caught it and ate it.
"Shouldn't you cook that?" I asked. We had gotten used to eating cooked food at Azor's place.
"Don't really care," Qassot said, finishing the fish and throwing the bones at me.
A gentle thump drew our attention. We turned and saw a creature standing there. It had two immense oaken arms, with a stony body and claw-like legs. Its head was different; smooth and shining with four curious eyes. The whole creature was mottled dark brown, from the wood to the skin to the head. It was much taller than Riselus. It looked curiously at us. It didn't speak.
It walked five paces down the ledge into the forest and looked back at them. We followed it through the forest, which now has a distinct aura of power in it, which seemed to render us speechless. The creature led us deep into the forest, to a high hill which everybody living in the valley had, at some point, visited but ignored. Then, it turned towards something and rooted itself into the ground. There was some sort of carving on the ground. Amidst eleven other statues with likeness identical to the creature, there were lines. Numerous lines, indents in the ground, in a dance of curves and junctions. As soon as I noticed the lines, I noticed that the lines contain some strange green light. The lines all radiated from a small, green item, from which the lights pulsate and follow the small furrows into the forest with graceful flow.
The orb flashed brightly, illuminating the clearing in a warm green glow. The ground rumbles. The statues all came alive. The trees uprooted themselves and seemed to look at us. Even the grass under our feet seemed to turn against the wind in curiosity. I looked around, confused. One of the statues moved forwards, tilting its head and gesturing with an arm, as if to ask what we wanted.
Aavern looked at the rest of us. He didn't seem confused. He spoke up, pointing at the glowing orb in the middle of the clearing. "Can we have that?"
"What are you doing?" Qassot whispered.
"I'm asking them to give it to us," Aavern whispered back.
"What?" Dracoa hissed.
"Didn't you read the scrolls? This is how Azor's scrolls said we were supposed to get it."
The statues turned towards each other and conversed for a while in some unknown, wordless language, obviously deciding on who to give it to. They looked over each of us thoughtfully, holding out an arm and letting green light from the lines wash over each of us, and received the ring on the chain from Aavern. Eventually, the statues stood in a straight line in front of us. The first guardian (at least, that's what I thought they were) removed the gem from its orb and placed it into the chain. They walked to Riselus and placed it around his neck. The guardians returned to their places. The trees fell back into their trance. Soon, the clearing was still, even the orb's green pulse looked dim. We left the clearing and walked back to the outcrop.
"That was easy," Risleus grumbled.
"I agree," Dracoa commented, "The guardian just found us and led us in."
"Maybe it was watching us fight," Aavern wondered, "and deemed us worthy of the gem."
"Wait!" Qassot cried, "Maybe they made that sound and led the creatures over! Maybe that whole attack was a test!"
We looked at each other.
"That doesn't make sense, though. Why would they do that if they knew you two would defeat most of them with your gems?" Aavern reasoned. "If it was a test, it's not a very good test."
I replayed the scene in my mind. The attack being a test made sense.
"I feel like it was a test, though. What else could have caused the noise?" I asked.
"Maybe some unfortunate victim of the creatures?" Dracoa suggested.
"That doesn't explain why the creatures came for us next. It was like they knew we were there," Aavern argued. He scratched his head with a wing.
"The sound came from the really old thing that I noticed earlier," Qassot added, "I'm pretty sure one of those statue things was the old thing that made the sound."
Dracoa, Aavern, and Qassot continued arguing. I recalled the event for the fifth time, focusing now more on the scenery, hoping that I could see a glimpse of those creatures hiding in the bushes, making the noise, and didn't notice it initially. No luck. My memory was not even close to good enough for that. I suddenly remembered the strange lines and curves around the gem. I thought about it for a while, wondering why it looked like a language. I suddenly had a rush of inspiration.
"There are those weird symbols around each gem. There was that 'air' symbol in Ysk Mountain and there were those weird lines and things around the earth gem!" I explained rapidly, snapping the others out of their argument.
"There was also one on the bottom of the whirlpool," Qassot said, remembering.
"There were also some symbols on top of the rock in the desert!" Dracoa said.
"But what does that mean?" Riselus asked.
"After we find the fire gem," I said with a spreading smile, "we have a clue to find the light gem."
-
Axel yawned and stretched. It was getting late.
"How much more is there of this story?" he asked.
"We're about halfway through," Cyil said.
Axel rubbed your eyes tiredly. "Can you just let me read those scrolls?"
Cyil yawned. "Don't you like my storytelling?"
"It's getting late, you should get some sleep. I can read the rest from those scrolls."
"But why? Is my storytelling not good enough?"
Axel sighed. It's just like dealing with a child. He leaned forwards and his voice took on a patient, knowledgeable tone.
"Listen. It's very late. I had a long journey. I'm going to have a hard time paying attention to your story. I'll be too tired and I'll miss some parts. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
"I see," Cyil said, nodding in acknowledgement. "I'm pretty tired too. Why don't we pick this up in the morning? I can tell you the rest of it tomorrow!"
"Yeah, sure," Axel said. Cyil brightened and turned to wander out of the room.
"You can sleep on that big squishy thing in the middle of the room there," he said, pointing at the rug.
"Alright," Axel said.
"Good night, Axel," Cyil said. He waved a wing and then wandered out of the room, drooping with exhaustion.
Axel waited until Cyil's gentle footsteps recede out of the range of hearing, then moved to the table where Cyil had been sitting. He opened the scroll which contained the story Cyil had been telling.
The title was placed at the bottom. In squiggly, uneven scribbles, it read, "The story of the Gem Keepers, scroll number 4, by Cyil." Right below it, in massive, angry writing, was "AND ALSO QASSOT, RISELUS, AAVERN, AND DRACOA. CYIL, YOU CAN'T JUST CLAIM ALL THE CREDIT FOR A STORY WE ALL WROTE TOGETHER YOU LITTLE PIECE OF-"
Axel stopped reading the title and unrolled the scroll to find the place where Cyil left off. He carefully looked at the swooping characters and loops that the scroll is written in, some wobbly and uneven, some perfectly formed and elegant. He carefully sifted through his fractured memory in an attempt to find something to help him read it. Axel started skimming the characters, gradually reading up the scroll. Images start flowing off the page into his mind. Something in Axel's brain recognized the characters and constructed Falnear from the past in his mind.
Axel sat back and sighed contentedly. How long has it been since I last read a good story? Five years? Ten? Axel sat up in surprise. For a brief moment, clarity had returned to his memories. A scene of sitting on a porch in a hammock, reading a book aloud to a young girl about three years younger than- The memory quickly fades into gray fuzz. Axel couldn't even be bothered to be frustrated at this point. He sighed and turned back to the scroll, letting himself smile as the words flew off the page and pulled him back into the gem keepers' past.