Legacy of Oblivion

An armored hand pulled Airsk sharply out of the way.

“You’ve got until the count of three to tell us who you are,” Grimvalt said quietly.

The mist around the elf glowed softly when she spoke and rippled like a cloud when she moved. A trail of the magical essence led back to the phallus, which was still standing in the center of the broken aquarium. A sad piece of seaweed had gotten tangled up around it.

“And then what?” the elf asked Grimvalt with an amused smile. “You will attack me?” Her head shook slightly, sending faint ripples of mist away from her head. “I think you should reconsider that plan. The individuals who have been watching this house will come through that door in a moment and then you will have your hands full.”

Before anyone could ask how she knew about that, Raeln rounded on the group angrily from where he had trotted off to search through the wreckage that had once been his living room.

“I think we’ve forgotten the primary concern here, people!”

“Former people!” Matelda protested.

In unison, the group turned to him with an exasperated look. No one was really certain what could be more important than a strange elf appearing out of a phallus.

“What is it now?” Autumnwolf demanded.

Glaring at her, Raeln stomped back over to where they had gathered and held up his detached limb. The movement whipped the wrist upward and the hand went with it. All fingers curled up into the palm, save for the middle one, which stood erect and at indignant attention. Before anyone could determine whether or not that was intentional, the sage shook the arm again until it was limp and inoffensively posed.

“Give me that,” Grimvalt said, snatching the arm away.

Whirling back around, he pointed to the elf again, gesturing with the extra appendage he held. Raeln’s hand conveniently did the pointing for him; the index finger extended toward the elf accusingly.

“Who are you?” He said. His voice was low, but the threat was clear.

Silence prevailed over the tense moment, save for a few exotic fish flopping about on the floor.

“My name is Delinia. I’ve already said this.”

He didn’t flinch. “No,” he said calmly.

Each word was carefully enunciated as if it were its own sentence. As he spoke, his sword came effortlessly from the scabbard.

“Who are you?” He repeated.

Their eyes locked.

(more…)

“We’re going in circles,” Arcadi grumbled under his breath. “I can’t track a damn thing, so it’s pretty bad when even I know. This is the same rock formation we passed by three days ago.”

Sabe nodded unhappily. They should have reached the Swamp of Sorrows by now, but for reasons unknown they were still wandering around Duskwood forest. Any attempts to question their guide on such lack of progress was answered with short, angry remarks about remaining silent and the occasional assurance that they would be out of the trees by the next day.

But the days dragged on and Thundrax slept less. When he closed his eyes for at least ten minutes it was considered a good day. His cognizance and ability to reason had deteriorated and no one was quite sure how to deal with it.

After a quick discussion among the coherent members of the party, Emberchill took the lead in distracting him. Her soft voice floated back, barely above a whisper. At the end of their small caravan, Arcadi and Sabe quietly planned an intervention.

“I agree, something is definitely wrong,” Sabe murmured, leaning over in her saddle so the priest could hear her.

Arcadi nodded back. “He’s leading us around like we’re trying to shake something off our trail, but if that’s the case, he isn’t talking about it. In fact, he isn’t talking at all.”

“That’s not true,” Sabe corrected. “This morning I asked him if he wanted breakfast, and he grunted.”

“I wouldn’t classify that as talking.”

The orc waved his comment away.

“If someone is following us,” she whispered back, “then it would make sense to try and lose them before we make it to Deadwind Pass. There’s not much maneuvering in the area and we’d be too easily trapped.”

“Yeah, but it would help if we knew what it was,” Arcadi grumbled. “Why doesn’t he just tell us?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

“Right. On the count of three, let’s just get him.”

Sabe made a face. “That’s the best you’ve got?” She asked. “Just get him?”

“You have a problem with the ‘gettim’ plan?”

“No,” she said, “it’s just that he’s our friend. I thought we might want to go with something a little more special than the standard ‘gettim’ plan.”

Their scheming ended up being unnecessary. Too many days of hard travel without sleep had finally caught up with the hunter. Silently, his body slumped in the saddle and slipped sideways.

(more…)