The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) (40 page)

“Saeunn,” she addressed with a smile. “I have long known that your place is not within the walls of any structure. Your spirit wants to soar free and you need to let it.” Saeunn avoided eye contact at first with her mother until Huuna gently grabbed her face in her hand and turned it towards her own.

“Sae, it is a strange thing that you are a strong and fierce warrior on the battlefield and not so strong when faced with emotional turmoil!” Huuna teased her daughter. “You must fulfill this request and your own destiny. The High Council and the Inquisition are requesting your assistance. Support is what you must give them!”

“But…you are—”

“My daughter! And I am so proud of you,” Huuna cried out, and then paused a moment. “Saeunn, you will do this. We Chansuk survivors will be fine. We are a strong lot! Remember, I have your father’s sister for comfort, and though this stay may be temporary, we may end up liking it here; I do not know.”

Huuna finished speaking and saw a hint of relief on her daughter’s face. That was something she had rarely seen this last month, she noted, even if it was for a brief second. Saeunn carried her father’s promise seriously, but the time had come for her to be released from it. There were many circumstances that dictated her place to be elsewhere.

The two proud Chansuk women hugged again, then Saeunn continued packing her gear as she felt that her mother was completely honest. That honesty made her feel confident enough and free enough to perform the task at hand properly. There would be no feelings of guilt or regret now when Saeunn left their new home and headed into the unknown. She had her mother’s blessing.

“I will miss you, mother,” Saeunn sighed, hugging her once more.

“I will barely notice you gone,” Huuna teased, drawing a look of shock from Saeunn. “Besides, I may well be learning how to read soon,” she added through a chuckle.

This drew a deep and sincere laugh from her daughter. Huuna had not seen her chuckle like that for a very long time. Saeunn was indeed a strong and proud warrior and now she would show not only the High Council and her peers what she offered in the way of battle prowess, but the originators of this current evil as well.

 She finished her preparation and strapped her reliable greatsword upon her rather wide back and headed down the path to the Hall of the High Council with a clear mind and a free heart—truly a barbarian.

Thaurion regained consciousness and found he was staring up into the face of Alana, one of his fellow apprentices. She was in a panic. She held him by the front of his robes as she shook him awake.

“Wake up, Thaurion!” she cried in her anxiety, continuing her firm grasp on his garments.

Thaurion seized her wrists in an attempt to halt her and finally succeeded.

“I am awake,” he told her firmly, opening his bright green eyes wide enough to exaggerate his state, and then he scratched the dry scalp beneath his curly blonde locks. “It is good to see you alive and well, Alana.”

“Where are we?!“ Alana asked him in an agitated tone.

Thaurion glanced around again and shook his head. “I do not know,” he replied honestly. “We must be in some kind of holding cell…somewhere. The door is sealed shut from the outside.”

“Therefore, someone has placed us here?”

“So it would seem,” Thaurion answered her.

The lack of memory regarding his journey was more than a bit choppy. He remembered being in the temple of The Shimmering One, where he could remember performing his chores and studies. Then he specifically heard Niomir speaking to him about something…then…a voice? It was gnawing at him. Maybe not quite a voice…it was more of an impulse. Something compelled him, he felt no doubt, but he could not verbalize it to Alana, nor did he want to admit anything to her just yet.

“I do not remember what happened to us. Do you recall anything at all?” Thaurion asked.

“I…remember Niomir speaking, then a flash of green…something shone brightly in my mind’s eye…then… nothing,” she shrugged as she too shook her head.

“An emerald light. Yes! I recall that, too!” Thaurion said as if he’d discovered something. But, that thought led to nothing else. Thaurion looked her over as he tried to remember. Alana was dressed in remnants of the garb of The Shimmering One, as Thaurion was, but their garments looked haggard at best. They both had dried blood on their bodies, stains on their robes. After a closer inspection of one another, they discovered that they both had scrapes and bruises. They also realized they had nothing else with them. They were weaponless and without provisions of any kind.

Thaurion felt bumps and swollen skin almost everywhere on his body beneath his robes. He also made note of specks resembling soot in Alana’s crop of auburn hair.

Thaurion panicked and clutched his chest, fishing under his cloak for something. “Praise The Shimmering One!” he cried, clutching the silver holy symbol of the sun-god that dangled from a chain around his neck. It was the depiction of the sun—a solid circle— surrounded by stylized, symmetrical waves that encircled it, each ending in tapered points to represent the sun’s rays. That symbol aided them in many of their prayers and rituals. “At least I yet have this.”

Alana searched and found that she too retained her holy symbol, too. “We need to find out just where we are.” Alana stated the obvious to Thaurion. “And what is that…
creature
in the corner?!”

“You are not going to like this when I tell you my theory,” Thaurion warned. “From what I can tell, it is a doppelganger; a creature of legend,” he explained matter-of-factly as he walked closer to the body to inspect it again. “Though they are rare to be seen, they are depicted as foul creatures with eyes toward evil gains. I believe this one was impersonating Niomir.” He looked at Alana to see her reaction. She remained calm for now, but frowned in distaste.

“I do not know for how long it was impersonating him besides,” he said worriedly.

“So, he could have been this creature for…weeks? Months?” Alana asked. Thaurion nodded with resignation.

“It explains, at least to some degree, why we cannot remember anything in the recent past. I am sure that this creature, the doppelganger, had something to do with it, though I know not how,” Thaurion paused briefly, and then pursued a new line of thinking. “Rolf still lives, but is in need of healing and rest. His wounds are serious. He will be of no use to us for a while, I fear. We need to figure out what happened and where we are in order to not only survive, but to save him as well,” Thaurion stated with a worried expression. “It is up to you and me now.”

“I have exhausted my healing favors already and was only able to mend some of our wounds,” Alana remarked with some resignation.

“I have expended all of my prayers earlier to heal both of us, and then I passed out, I guess,” Thaurion supposed, recalling the events prior to him being awakened by Alana.

“I have tried again too, but cannot seem to close his wounds,” Alana sighed. “And it drains me quickly, as you know.”

 “It is because we only have limited access to the plane of reg—” Thaurion began and then noted the look on Alana’s face, causing him to cease his didactic diatribe, for she was very well aware of the facts on how their healing energies worked. And judging by the look on her face, she was in no need of a lecture this day.

“Let us search this cell and see what we can find,” Thaurion suggested instead, diffusing her frustration toward him. He stood on wobbly legs at first, but after a few moments, he slowly regained his equilibrium.

“Do you know even what month it is?” Thaurion asked suddenly, not knowing how long they had been gone from Oakhaven or even how long they had been here.

“I recall clearly the Festival of New Year as the calendar turned to 66 PA,” Alana replied. ”We had at least been around for that. Also, preparations were being made for The Days of Holy Enlightenment festival that would begin in the first week of Winter’s Heart.  I can barely remember anything after that, however.”

“So it may still be Winter’s Bite? Perhaps it is Winter’s Heart, judging by the extreme chill in here,” Thaurion deduced. “Though, it is truly hard to tell in this damp and dark environment where in the sun-god’s name we are.”

“I am unsure, but it must be winter, based on the chill in the air,” Alana agreed, pulling her robe tighter around her shoulders as if she just remembered the fact that it was freezing. ”Let’s see what we can find in here.”

Together she and Thaurion wandered around the large area, moving the furs and rubbish around on the ground, trying to uncover any clue as to what transpired or where they were. Thaurion found and lit another torch and found a bracket on the wall to place it.

“Rays of the sun!” Thaurion exclaimed.

“What is it?” Alana asked, moving to stand beside him.

“Look at this foul thing!” Thaurion held up a chain to Alana that had a symbol dangling on it. She gasped audibly.

“It is the symbol of Thanatos, the devourer of corpses!” Alana exclaimed in a startled manner and stumbled back from it in horror.

“Yes, it is the symbol of the demon lord of death,” Thaurion admitted grimly as he threw the symbol across the room and into the wall in an attempt to destroy it.

“That could be…where we are?!” Alana deduced as she a hand through her matted hair. A look of concern crept across her face and Thaurion was immediately concerned that they very well could be trapped within a demonic temple of some kind!

But who exactly brought us here?
Thaurion wondered.
Or what?
Are we to become sacrifices to the demon lord?

The implications of the recently found holy symbol were vast and added to the young acolyte’s confusion as he pondered their predicament further.

The orc clan had stumbled upon the entrance of this cave immediately after they found the young priests they were ordered to find. They had found their targets—three humans and a lone elf that matched the description given to them by Chieftain Kelgarek—barely alive and all unconscious. Shaman Tukk had quickly made contact with the spirit world, confirming that the group of battered individuals they’d found were indeed the ones that they had come seeking.

As the snow began to fall heavily upon the goblinoid troops, the snow being common for this area near the Oakcrest Mountains, Commander Grubb had decided to use a cave entrance they found as a temporary shelter.

Grubb’s orders were to find the group of priests who bore the symbols of The Shimmering One, and bring them back to Kelgarek—alive. He therefore decided that his contingent would remain in the cave until he could trek safely back to his Chieftain with his prized prisoners. The month had just changed, according to Shaman Tukk, and the snowfall was certainly expected during Winter’s Heart, which was generally the worst time for it. And while it made for difficult passing, the coming snow would also hide the tracks of the large force that he had taken with him—over a hundred strong.

 It had been snowing intermittently for the past few days. Storms traditionally could last for weeks at this time of year, making travel impossible. Making the attempt to get his party back to the overrun village of Chansuk in the south under these conditions would be foolish. Chansuk, now occupied by the main force of goblinoids, was at least several weeks’ travel to the south—in good weather. The retinue of overlords and the shaman agreed with their commander that this was the best course of action.

The Bonemasher clan and Kelgarek had recently joined forces with the Bloody Fang tribe of goblins. Somehow, Chieftain Kelgarek had convinced their leader, the cunning and devious goblin, Kogh, to allow him to lead the combined forces, with Kogh becoming his second in command. Grubb believed that the apprentices must be extremely valuable if Kelgarek wanted them.  Why else would the Mighty Chieftain ask for them to be delivered to him? Especially since Kelgarek was asking for them to be brought back alive if possible.

Grubb did not dare question the chieftain aloud—for to query his judgment would lead to a swift death. Grubb was a massively built orc in his own right and was well versed in the arts of combat and warfare. But even he feared the wrath of mighty Kelgarek, for none matched his prowess or ferocity in combat…especially with that massive axe he wielded.

Upon their arrival, the commander had immediately sent a small mix of goblin cavalry to take word to Kelgarek. That order had been given several days ago by now. Grubb knew that it would take at least a week or two of continuous travel to reach Chansuk in this weather, even though the goblins traveled on the backs of their dire wolves.

Shaman Tukk could keep in contact with the cavalry on a daily basis using his gift to commune with spirits. But Grubb could not guarantee the safe transport of the prisoners to Chansuk until the worst of the storm had passed, as they would be traveling on foot and not horseback.

The cave mouth originated on a slope and was large enough to contain his entire detachment. The cave itself stretched south a small distance, and then west before opening up into a large cavity with a natural pool in it.

Several giant spider hatchlings had occupied the cavern beyond, making their nests in the many stalagmites and rock formations jutting up from the hard ground and ceiling. The orcs and goblins had cut these hatchlings down quickly so as to suffer no losses to their overall force, using fire and sword to smite them.