The Soul Forge (8 page)

“Look friend, my name is Thomas Finn. I’m trying to get to Verdonti to warn them about what’s happening.”

“What
is
happening?” the stranger asked.

“Honestly… I don’t think you wanna know.”

The stranger was silent, but something about Thomas’ stark tone must have convinced him.

“No, something tells me I don’t.”

“Do you happen to know which way Verdonti is?” Thomas asked. He really needed to get moving, or the Others would beat him there.

“Yeah, but it’s not on any map,” the stranger said. “I’d have to show you.”

Thomas nodded. “Do you have a horse?”

“Um… no sir.”

“That’s okay,” Thomas said, eyeing a helpful prize. “Just pick one of those.”

“Er…”

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“I don’t know how to ride a horse, sir.”

Thomas
chuckled, glad the problem was so minimal. “Ain’t nothing to it, buddy. Just climb in the saddle and grab hold of the reins. Talk friendly to the horse, and there won’t be a problem. By the by, what’s your name?”

“
Zacharias, sir.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Thomas laughed. Zacharias joined him.

“Most people just call me Zach, sir.”

“Zack it is, then,” Thomas aid, remounting Lucille. Zach watched his motions and repeating it with a caramel colored horse that was standing by
, completely unconcerned.

“So, you can lead me to Verdonti?” Thomas asked.

“Yes sir. It’s not even a day away from here. Though based on the direction you were going, I think you were headed the wrong way.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, turning Lucille around with a click of his tongue. “Of course I was,” was all he replied.

Zach looked nervous, Thomas noticed. As the night dragged on, Thomas found the scenery starting to lose its luster.
Instead, he found he was far more interested in his newfound companion.

“So where ya from, Zach?”

“A little backwater village called Hodunt. Not much there, but there were good people… there… there were…”

Thomas could have kicked himself. He hadn’t even realized the obvious.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Thomas said, “I didn’t even think…”

“Nah, it’s not your fault,”
Zach replied, “I don’t think this is something any of us expected.”

His response didn’t mollify Thomas’ mood, and Thomas couldn’t think of anything else to say.
He played with Lucille’s reins, trying to control the red he knew was rising in his face. He was grateful for the darkness that hid it.

“Where you from?”
Zach asked, breaking the silence.

“The Kimpchik farm,”
Thomas answered immediately, a swell of pride erupting in his voice.

“
I’ve heard of them. Good family, that. But Gods, that accident...”

“Yeah,” Thomas said in a tone that made it quite clear he didn’t want to talk about it.

“I meant no offense,” Zach said, trying to cover his mistake.

“Nah, none taken,” Thomas replied, “just not something I’m fond of talking about.”

“I understand,” Zach said before his voice practically disappeared. “Does that mean… oh Gods, I’m so sorry…”

Thomas was confused for a moment before figuring out what Zach was talking about.

“Oh! No, it’s not like that. They… they weren’t at the farm when it burned. They should be safe. I hope their safe…”

Silence fell between them again, each one absorbed in their thoughts.
Thomas wanted to ask about Zach’s family, but the answer terrified him. As much as he wanted to know, as much as he wanted to hope they had been spared, he couldn’t bear to ask.

“I don’t remember the Kimpchik’s having two sons,” Zach said quietly. It seemed he didn’t want to ask his question either, but he had mounted his courage before Thomas had.

“They don’t. I’m just the farm hand.”

“So… where’re your parents?”
Zach asked.

“Lost ‘em,” Thomas r
eplied, “during the first days of the Magi War. I was too young to fight, and my parents wanted nothing to do with it, but somehow the fire found us anyway.”

“I’m sorry,” Zach
said, which was quickly becoming a common refrain.

“Oh come on now,”
Thomas laughed, “that’s enough sorry to be going around.”

Zach joined him in laughing, “
Yeah, I can get behind that idea.”

“So you’re a farm boy too, huh?”

“Yes sir. Worked on my family’s farm since I could swing a scythe. It was  a good job, that. Hard work. Funny how all us farm boys sound alike.”

Thomas nodded, thrown by the sudden shift of topic but accepting it. “You read any when you were younger?”

“I read a thing or two in my time. Not a whole lot of time for the practice,” Zach replied, “you?”

“I read everything I could get my hands on. Course, I didn’t know what half of the words meant, but I still enjoyed ‘em. How they sounded, the way
they made me feel.”

“Always imagined going off on an adventure?”

“Nah, not me. I was perfectly happy on my farm. But looks like it had to happen anyway.”

Zach laughed and said nothing more, and the pair rode on just a bit fonder of each other.

They rode for hours until Thomas found himself falling asleep at the reins. When Zach yelled after the third time of Thomas almost falling off of Lucille, they both agreed it was time to settle down for the night. They rested by a stream, where Lucille gratefully drank some water. Thomas would have done the same, but he found that staying awake was a burden he just wasn’t able to handle anymore.

He collapsed to the ground and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep. But it seemed no sooner had he closed his eyes than Zach was shaking him awake.
Thomas looked around, seeing the sun was high in the sky even though it was mostly hidden by gray clouds that threatened rain. Apparently, he had been sleeping for quite a while.

“We need to get moving,” Zach said, “or we won’t make it there by nightfall.”

Thomas nodded, getting to his feet. He felt like one big bruise as every muscle ached in protest at being disturbed. Lucille looked ready to go, which was about the only welcome thing greeting Thomas this morning.

“No time to waste, then,” Thomas replied as he climbed into the saddle.
He rubbed his eyes once to make sure they were still working before following Zach away from the stream and back towards the road.

“So how come you know the way to Verdonti, Zach?” Thomas asked.

“We do a little trade up that way,” Zach answered. “Fish, grains, that sort of thing. I don’t think they grow most food on their own.”

“I thought the elves didn’t need to eat,” Thomas mused aloud.

“There are a lot of stories that say that, but most of them aren’t true. Back in the days of the War, the elves would review strategies and wouldn’t eat for days at a time. Eventually, people just started thinking they didn’t eat. But they eat just like we do. We actually have a lot more in common than people think.”

“Really?”
Thomas said, sitting up a little in his saddle. He hadn’t heard much talk about the elves from someone who really knew them.

“Oh yeah.
They don’t live forever like people think. They live longer than we do, but that’s just because they take better care of themselves. We do backbreaking work, and they just sit around and phi… phil…”

“Yeah, I can’t pronounce it either,” Thomas laughed, “but I know what you mean.”

“They’re actually pretty nice once you get to know them. But you have to get to know them first. Why, the first time I visited them with my pa, they were… none too friendly towards me. But eventually I made a few friends.”

“Have you ever met any dwarves?” Thomas asked, unable to contain his excitement.

“Afraid not,” Zach replied, and Thomas very nearly huffed. “Not many of them leave the mountains. Too busy doing… whatever it is dwarves do.”

“Forging stuff, I think,” Thomas joked.

“Who even knows?” Zach chuckled.

They fell into a comfortable silence
as their horses trotted down the path. Thomas stared up at the sky, wondering when the rain was going to start to fall. From the looks of things, it wouldn’t be very long before…

A giant water drop pegged him right between the eyes.

He jumped, slightly upsetting Lucille, but he wiped away the drop with a sigh. Sure enough, the next moment the rain fell hard as if Thomas had summoned it with his worries.

“Come on!” Zach yelled, flicking the reins as Thomas had taught him to.
Both horses ran through the rain, but it was falling to thick that Thomas could barely see through it. Soon enough the ground would be nothing but mud, and that would slow their trip down considerably.

“We got to make it across the bridge before it floods! If we don’t make it, we’ll have to wait for the river to die down again, and that could take hours!”

Thomas spurred Lucille on, keeping pace with Zach as he led them through the twists and turns of the forest. The rain somehow got even worse, and Thomas felt the water hit his skin as if his clothes weren’t even on him anymore.

“It’s getting worse!” he shouted.

“I know! I’ve never seen a rainstorm this bad before!”

Thomas looked up, immediately regretting it as the rain got into his eyes.
He didn’t know how far away they were, but he hoped it wasn’t too much farther. Already, he could see the stream start to rise, becoming a river. Soon, it would burst its banks and then Thomas and Zach would be stranded.

“There it is!”

The joyous call made Thomas burst into a smile as the bridge they were seeking came into view. The river hadn’t jumped it yet, but that danger was still closing in fast. Understanding their need for haste, Lucille pushed herself even faster to get to the bridge.

They turned a sharp corner, coming up on the bridge, when an arrow buried itself in Thomas’ arm.

He reflexively screamed, and lost his grip on the reins. The pain carried up his shoulder and down his arm, wave after wave of pulsating burning. He reached up to the arrow on reflex alone, but even touching it caused a spasm of agony to tear through his body.

Thomas was dimly aware of Zach by his side, keeping him upright as the horses ran for all they were worth. Other arrows zipped past their heads, but no other shafts were buried in their
bodies. Zach was shouting, Thomas could hear it, but the roar of the rain was so loud in his head. His shoulder was bleeding, he could feel the blood. Thicker than the rain, yet somehow wetter than it.

It was only when he noticed the rain had stopped did he realize he was only feeling blood.

It was his last sentient thought as he slipped from the saddle and fell to the ground. He didn’t lose consciousness, not quite, but only his willpower alone kept him awake. Every nerve wanted to succumb to the welcoming darkness, but he refused. If he fell asleep, what were the odds he would wake up again?

The next thing he was truly sure of was a dull pain in his shoulder and a sudden release of pain, as if the wound had been relieved.
He tried to stand, but he found his limbs were heavy and he really didn’t want to, anyway.

“Stay still, human,” an unfamiliar voice said.
Thomas complied, not that he had much say in the matter anyway. He tried taking a deep, steadying breath, but the attempt caused pain to surge through his ribs like a thousand pinpricks.

“
He going to be alright, Morando?”

Thomas heard Zach ask the question, though he felt it was kind of a silly one. Of course he wasn’t. There had been an arrow in his arm!

“Peace, Zacharias,” came the answer. It was from a voice that seemed older than Thomas thought possible, the voice of a wise old man in a much younger man’s body. “He will be on the mend within a day or so,” the voice continued.

“Zach,” Zach replied, “just
call me Zach.”

Thomas
grumbled a response to one of the voices, as real words were beyond him. The pain in his shoulder was lessening moment by moment, but Thomas was still almost positive he was going to die.

“Hey Tom, you’re going to be all right
,” Zach said. Thomas didn’t believe him until he opened his eyes.

Then he felt his will to live return to him.

Wherever he was, it was beautiful. Trees sprouted higher than his eyes could follow, and the area glowed green as the sun pushed through the leaves. The homes were downright quaint, built from wood and stone with carvings that were made with the utmost care. The carvings caught the sunlight just so, making them look like they were glowing.

That was just the front wall of the nearest house. Thomas looked around as best he could, unable to lift his head but wanting to capture everything.
The ground was made of cobblestone, with leaves falling to the floor at random times. There was an arch made of wood nearby, leading to the main hub of the city.

“Where am I?” Thomas asked.

“You are in Verdonti, human,” the old voice replied. Thomas turned to see its owner, surprised to see the plainly dressed man standing over him. He had a high forehead with well-groomed blond hair, but his green eyes were not unkind. He had a thin mouth and a clean face, and the rest of his body was hidden in a plain brown robe.

“Name’s Thomas, sir.”

“Very
well… Thomas. I am Morando, a healer of the elves.”

“Thank you for taking care of me, sir.”

“Zacharias…”

“Zach.”

“Zacharias,” Moranda repeated, completely ignoring Zach’s interjection, “
is a friend to the elves, and you did need aid. We elves are not as unkind as people seem to think.”

Thomas nodded, but the motion hurt his head so he stopped. “Well, I’m afraid all I can do is
offer my thanks, seeing as I don’t have any money.”

“Monetary compensation is not required. However, if you were willing, I could use… a favor.”

“A favor?” Thomas repeated, “what do you need?”

The h
ealer looked away, which Thomas thought was strange. What favor could this elf need that he was so unwilling to ask?

“It is a shameful thing, I must admit,” Morand
o said, pacing away from Thomas and Zach. Both boys shared a confused glance, Zach raising an eyebrow and Thomas repeating the motion and adding a shrug for effect.

“There is a
girl in town,” Morando finally said.

“Okay,” Thomas said, “and what do you want me to do?”

“If you would deliver this letter…” the healer began.