Dream of Legends (20 page)

“Maybe in my world we were living in very dark times too … though I, like most of the people in my world, refused to admit what was right before my eyes,” Lee responded.

In that very moment, he realized more about himself than he had ever cared to face before. An obscuring haze had suddenly been burned away, before the onset of an emergent dawn, revealing things for what they were in all of their stark reality. Truth, as it was more often than not, was anything but comforting.

Lee recognized that a penetrating chill had slipped into his own world, delving far underneath the shining magnificence of the tools and trades of modernity. It was an empty heart at the center of a body whose marvels of advancement would utterly shock one such as Gunther, or anyone from Ave.

The people of his world in their masses were drifting further and further apart, like great lands being shattered and fragmented into tiny, ever-fracturing islands. They were increasingly following a siren’s song, a call that subtly, and sometimes openly, promised to make them masters and gods of their mortal lives. Like whispers from sylvan tongues, notions drifted into, and resounded throughout, the general consciousness that humanity could unearth all secrets, and control their world and beyond, by turning entirely to the direction of their own will. They were promises that could never, ever be fulfilled.

A nagging emptiness, pressures, and growing anxieties had crept into Lee’s own life. He could see the same things occurring in so many others, the result of an existence with increasingly unstable foundations. Like a furious storm that rapidly expended itself, so would the frenzied lifestyles so predominant in his former world. Under what was touted as the most civilized and advanced age ever was little more than a splendid, ornamented tomb, with the decaying essence of true, living humanity within.

Lee knew the stark revelation was nothing less than the reality, and it was the identity of the evasive, murky frustrations that had so often gripped him. He also saw the parallels to Gunther’s own world, facing a future where enslavement and destruction of the free human spirit loomed, the willpower of a dominating few pounding the great majority in all lands into a compliant submission. The two worlds, despite their enormous differences in cultures and styles, were both going through unrivaled dark ages. It was merely the trappings and forms that differed.

The gruff, large woodsman was not so different from the comparatively diminutive, otherworld refugee standing before him. Interestingly, Lee felt a shared bond and understanding with Gunther. It was one that was forged with the fires of a shared passion, born of a mutual hunger for the desire to be free of those who had the arrogance, or malfeasance, to promise humanity a way to become their own gods.

“Maybe we are more alike than we think,” Lee remarked. “The more I think about it, the more I’m sure this is so.”

“Then there is little that we can do, other than to be true to each moment, as it comes,” Gunther responded.

“I think both of us can say we have no idea what the future will bring. I used to think I had a good idea of the future, but I think that it goes without saying how quickly things can change,” Lee said. “That much is pretty obvious.”

“I used to think that I knew my general future as well,” Gunther said ruefully, as a little sadness mixed into his shadowy expression. “I knew otherwise by the time that I resolved to live my days out in these woodlands. Maybe all of this is a good lesson for both of us. Even this old woodsman should not be too arrogant to think that he cannot learn something new.”

The slightest hint of amusement crept onto Gunther’s face at his words of self-deprecation.

“Then I guess we will learn some new things together, but I hope to learn much from you as well,” Lee responded, mirroring the woodsman’s grin on his own face.

Gunther leaned forward, and placed his hand gently upon Lee’s shoulder. “And perhaps I will learn much from you as well. Perhaps I already have during these recent moments. And we may yet find a way through all of this. We just may.”

“We may … and I’m going to think that we will,” Lee responded, smiling warmly, as he saw the emboldened spirit renewing right before him like a stoked flame within Gunther.

*

Avanorans

*

A large patrol group of Avanoran soldiers, accompanied by a few Atagar with Licanthers, discovered the woodland abode of Gunther. Their attentions were quickly turned from the small outbuildings and pen towards its main structure, set against the slope of the sizeable hill rising before them.

Very cautiously, the Avanoran fighters circled around the two-level dwelling. The Atagar kept to the outer perimeter of the woodsman’s timber constructs, as the Licanthers that they tended displayed an extreme edginess around the buildings.

From their agitation, it was obvious that the feline monstrosities had picked up a wealth of distressing scents from the grounds. The hackles of the great cats were raised, and they paced about with slow, deliberate movements, muscles tensed and in a state of full alertness.

It was very apparent to the warriors that the main dwelling was in a solid, well-maintained condition, and was certainly not any long-abandoned homestead. While capably kept up, the structure was still not anything more than two levels of rough timber construction, attended by a couple of small outbuildings and the large, gated pen. In addition to the pen, there was an abundance of signs that a number of animals had been kept around the place. The huge paw prints and widespread droppings quickly told the Avanorans that the homestead had not quartered simple livestock, such as cattle, sheep, or swine. The signs also told them unmistakably that the dwelling had only very recently been deserted.

The ubiquitous tufts of fur, excrement, impressions, and other signs baffled the most experienced, knowledgeable individuals amongst the large scouting party. Not one person in the patrol could ascertain the exact nature of the creatures that had clearly been on those grounds just mere hours before.

The Licanthers provided the only comfort in those strained moments, as the muscular, feline creatures finally began to relax their rigid postures. The Avanorans inferred that the keen predators did not sense any imminent threats.

Trusting to the discernment of the cats’ superior senses, the Avanorans allowed themselves to breathe just a little easier. The scouts’ eyes still darted at every slight sound, their wariness continuing to be roused as they slowly made their way towards the door of the main dwelling structure.

One of the scout leaders rapped his fist hard against the thick wooden door.

“Is anyone in there?” he called out, in a commanding voice. “Show yourselves now, and you shall not be harmed!”

Empty silence met the scout’s inquiry. He looked back towards the others from his party, gathered all around the grounds with weapons drawn and ready. Spears and bows were poised all throughout the grounds, and the warriors were positioned to react should an attack be sprung.

The Atagar chattered excitedly amongst themselves in their high pitched voices, drawing some fiery glares from the Avanorans. The Licanthers that the rat-men mastered were held tightly back on their long leashes.

The scouting party’s leader, a tall, thin-faced warrior, then nodded towards a few men standing to his left, and gestured towards the door. The Avanoran fighters hurried up and gathered around the scout at the door, as he knocked upon it one more time. Not a sound emerged from within the building.

“Open it!” the scout leader commanded the men, who withdrew some small hand axes, and set about hacking into the planks of the door.

In a few short moments, the steel-edged blades burst through the planks, as splintered, shattered chunks of the door flew all about. The way was soon open for the Avanorans to enter the dwelling. They paused hesitantly before the heavy darkness of the interior, weapons raised, as if expecting some sort of ambush by the inhabitants of the edifice. As their eyes began to adjust more fully to the deep, shadowy interior, they carefully entered with their weapons gripped firmly in hand.

There was no sign of the occupants of the abode. The emptiness of the upper floor was discovered a few moments later, when a couple of the Avanorans guardedly ascended the wooden staircase to inspect the second level.

“There were at least four, staying up there,” one of the men reported back to the party’s leader.

The leader’s brow furrowed in concern, as the few sparse belongings, furnishings, a couple of chests and clothes found on the first level indicated a larger-bodied, singular male. As he stood in the center of the room, he watched a couple of other men try the large door set in the back of the ground level’s open chamber. At first, he paid them little attention, surmising that the door opened into some manner of storage chamber.

“Some further sign of what this place is may be in there,” he said, encouraging the men endeavoring to open it. “And perhaps some supplies as well. This is not the usual Saxan dwelling.”

It was swiftly discovered that the door was barred from the inside. That only meant one thing to the Avanoran leader.

“Break through it then! I care not how!” he ordered them harshly, his curiosity significantly piqued.

The men did not need any extra impetus, as they set their muscles towards breaking through the second door. Hand axes were turned again from being weapons to tools of utility. The blades impacted heavily into the planks, and bits of wood flew outward, exposing the thick timber bar that had been set in place on the opposite side. Beyond the bar was what seemed to be some kind of passageway.

“Barred from the inside. Can only mean one thing,” muttered the scout leader, his sense of caution rising fast. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the doorway. He then concluded aloud, “Whoever was here has gone down that passage.”

Eyes riveted to the door, he raised his spear up, and gestured for the others to gather close around him. The cracks of shattering wood resounded as the door was bashed into pieces, to fully expose the entryway into darkness.

Cool air wafted up from the dark entrance and flowed into the room, enveloping the Avanorans and causing several of them to shiver. The scout leader immediately sensed that an elongated chamber, or some kind of extended tunnel, lay beyond, far different in scale than the small storage area that he had initially expected to find.

The Avanorans hesitated nervously at the opening to the dark passage, letting their eyes adjust, even as they took notice of a far off speck of light within the blackness.

“Get some torches ready,” the leader gruffly commanded the men.

As some kept their vigil at the opening, others immediately set about preparing flames and lighting short-hafted torches. When they were finally ready, the scout leader ordered a couple of fighters in the front to take a few steps inside the chilly entrance.

The torchlight seemed to be swallowed up by the encompassing darkness within, though the flames’ ambience cast enough light to reveal the damp, rocky environs of a cave’s interior. A short distance down, just beyond the revealing edge of the lights, it looked as if the walls were much more even than they were towards the opening. To those that looked upon the change in the surfacing, it looked uncannily as if the rock had been worked intentionally.

“Bring the dagger-tooths through, and keep your guard up, rat-men,” the scout leader curtly ordered a couple of nearby Atagar.

The two rat-men that he had addressed made no reply, though the scout leader heard them chattering a few words in their strange tongue as they scurried off. They returned quickly enough, this time in the company of a couple of others of their kind that held the leashes to brawny Licanthers.

The Avanorans in the room backed up as the beasts padded forward with their handlers. Even the leader tensed for a moment, as the dark-furred cats stepped silently past him, watching their muscles rippling in their fluid, graceful motions.

At their masters’ urgings, the pair moved into the mouth of the opening, one following the other into the narrow confines. The two huge cats tensed within a couple of steps, their ears flattening back against their heads, as they paused and stared into the blackness.

The Avanoran leader brusquely compelled the Atagar to move the beasts deeper into the passage, impatient to get underway before his nerves began to fray. Looking greatly irritated, the Atagar handlers complied, and cajoled the reluctant beasts forward.

Low growls rumbled from the back of the agitated beasts’ throats as they started forward again. They drew up to the torchbearers in the passage and took the lead. The scout leader and several other Avanoran warriors then entered the tunnel, and followed closely behind.

A few Avanorans remained back in the dwelling, as the larger proportion of the patrol proceeded forward into the depths of the cave passage. The few torches that the party had lit did little to ease the oppressive feeling that the scout leader felt, an ominous dread that rose with each step. The blackness appeared to press in, confining the scant glow cast by the torches, and threatening to swallow the firebrands, and perhaps even their bearers, at any time.

The walls of the passage grew broader, and the scout leader knew that the ceiling had risen higher when the Licanthers started to growl more fervently, in extreme agitation. The creatures were now side by side, no longer forced to walk in single file. Their handlers were unable to coax the giant cats forward, both beasts rigidly defiant as they stood their ground.

“What is it?” the scout leader whispered sharply to the Atagar handlers, as he eased his way up to their position.

His words trailed off right at the moment when the cave walls themselves appeared to come alive. A storm of motion exploded upon the scouting party, Avanoran, Atagar, and Licanther alike.

Huge, shadowy forms erupted from the darkness, whirling about from where they had been pressed closely against the cave walls. Their rock-gray hides, rough and of gritty textures, had blended very capably with the stone as they had maneuvered themselves to fill in crevices and depressions along the course of the passageway.