You can run, but you can’t hide. - Anonymous
The next morning dawned warm and spring like. The sky was a brilliant azure with a few feathery clouds floating across the vast ocean of the cosmos. Birds were singing their praises to the new morning. It was a morning so unlike the previous one that it could not go unnoticed.
The companions all agreed that the faeries did not want them to feel safe in their ring. That was the reason for the frost of yester-morn.
They ate a breakfast of roast pheasant that Shaunna had killed on an early morning hunt. After the meal was finished and the fire extinguished, they finished packing their equipment and prepared for another hard days march.
Their spirits were high as they marched out of camp, though not as high as they could have been, the party being one member short, but higher than they had been the previous day. They marched north yet again, following Shaunna’s leadership. They walked in silence, trying to pick up any sounds of the creatures that were following them.
For three days they moved north with no interference. Each day their uneasiness grew as their pursuers made at least one appearance per day to let the party know they were still following. Each night they slept with their conventional weapons at their sides as the Crystal Blades patrolled the camp perimeter. Nothing approached their campsite at night. The creatures seemed content with keeping their distance.
At dusk on the third day, a small town came into view. Shaunna attempted to skirt the town, but Taren stopped her.
“Let’s stop in that town for the night.” Taren suggested.
Shaunna was suddenly very nervous. “Ummm... That town? I’d rather not.” She edged closer to the far side of the town. “There is a very nice, very secluded, camp spot not far from here.”
Hope eyed Shaunna carefully. “Are you well? You seem very nervous.”
Shaunna was wild eyed. “I can’t go into that town.”
Sudden realization dawned in Taren’s mind. “This is the town, isn’t it.”
Shaunna could only nod.
Taren took Shaunna’s hand in his, lightly squeezing it. “It’s time to stop running. You need to face your fears. It’s the only way you can gain complete closure on your past, and I sense that you need closure.”
Shaunna violently shook her head. “I can’t face them. I just can’t.” Tears were streaming down her face as she stood there. “He was well liked; I was an outsider. They’ll kill me if I show my face there again. I’ve seen them do it.”
“I think we should stay in the town,” Taren said in a tone of authority. “We’ll be safer in the town than we will in the wilderness, especially with those two brutes following us.” He laid his free hand on Shaunna’s shoulder. “I will protect you, don’t worry.”
In Taren’s eyes, the words had the desired effect. In reality, however, Shaunna could see that he wasn’t going to relent. She knew that she would eventually have to face her past, but the thought of actually doing it scared her to death. She had had friends in this town, what would they think of her? She didn’t think that there would be much problem with them. No, the problem would be with the corrupt town guard. True, it had been a long time since she had been here, but there are some things that just don’t change. She was certain that this was one of them.
She stood staring at the familiar town for a few moments before catching them all off guard as she began to walk. As she moved in the direction of her past, she made sure that her weapons were easily accessible.
The three men had to run to catch up with Shaunna. Taren noticed her preparing her weapons for any trouble that might arise. He quickly followed suit. He kept the short sword, its blade notched from striking the lock, held loosely in his right hand, prepared to bring it into use should the need arise.
From the sounds directly behind him, Taren could tell that the other two were also making their weapons easier to reach.
The town seemed almost ominous as the quartet approached. The sun was beginning to set, and lights in the windows were beginning to wink into existence like stars in a deepening sea of blackness, each light reminding the companions of evil eyes maliciously watching their approach.
It was completely dark when they finally reached the town. The streets were empty, except for an occasional guard making his rounds. No street lamps illuminated the building fronts that lined the short main street.
Shaunna paused at the edge of the town to look at the changes that must have occurred over the past years. What she saw was a scene straight out of her memory. Nothing had changed, as far as she could tell.
“There is an inn and tavern not far from here,” Shaunna mentioned as she led them into town. “I know the owner, he’s a good man.”
She led them half way down the main street before turning into a large building with an unreadable sign on it. As they entered the main building, the smell of roasting meat wafted to their nostrils. The patrons of the tavern turned to look at the group as they entered. Looks of disbelief flooded over every face in the room. Here were two elves one of which would be considered “marked” upon first glance, a creature out of legend, and the barmaid that had mysteriously disappeared years ago.
The innkeeper was a tall, thin man, with a head full of hair that had been peppered grey with age. He had the look of a man that had been very handsome in his prime, but his looks faded as age increased its unmerciful grasp on his life. His startling blue eyes were still clear and his hands were sturdy as he poured the drinks behind the bar.
As soon as the innkeeper saw the group, he stopped what he was doing to come meet them at the door.
“Shaunna, where have you been?” He started to speak as soon as was close enough to whisper to her. “I have heard some terrible rumors.”
Shaunna smiled, for the first time in days. “Hello Sarec, how have you been?”
“I have been well, but what about you? They say you killed Moran.” His voice grew quieter with every word, trying to not let the patrons hear what he was saying. “Is this true?”
“I’m glad to see you, Sarec.” Shaunna hugged the old man. “Yes, I did kill Moran, He would have killed me if I hadn’t.”
Sarec’s face was worried as Shaunna began to speak, but the last comment put his mind at ease. “Ah, so it was self defense. You should have nothing to worry about.”
Shaunna laughed quietly. “You know better than that, Sarec. Moran was well liked in the town. Most of the guards were his personal friends. You know he told them about my lineage as soon as he found out.”
Sarec shrugged slightly. “That may be true, but you are safe as long as you are in my care.” He bowed deeply to the party. “Welcome to the Canavar’s Run. No offense meant, sir.” He added to Grathius, “Legend has it that you all died out a long time ago.”
“The legend has been overrrstated; no harrrm done.” Grathius replied, his low whisper making it sound like he was growling.
Sarec raised his voice back to a normal level. “Meals and lodging for you and your group are on the house. The prodigal daughter has come home. ”
Shaunna sighed. “Sarec, I am not your daughter.”
Sarec laughed heartily. “You may as well be, child, for all the strain you put on this old heart.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke. “Come with me, all of you.”
The old man led them to a room in the back of the inn. “Would you like a separate room for the lady?”
Shaunna shook her head. “No, we’d rather not be separated. Would it be possible for us to dine in our room?”
Sarec nodded. “Of course. We shall bring the meal in shortly.” He bowed as he left the room.
The room was sparsely furnished with two medium sized beds and one bed stand in between them. A cheery fire was burning in the fireplace located opposite the door. Next to the fireplace was a small circular window that showed the blackness of the night beyond. A small lamp stood on the table between the beds.
Taren walked over to the bed situated closest to the fire and sat down. “That wasn’t so bad.”
A weak smile splayed across Shaunna’s lips. “Wait until tomorrow. Getting out of town may be a chore.” She walked over to sit beside Taren. “Nothing has changed. Even Sarec looks the same. I’m sure the town militia will be alerted to our presence. By morning this inn will be surrounded by guards demanding my surrender. Just wait and see.”
A light knock came at the door as the party was making preparations to retire for the night. As Hope opened the door, several trays laden with food came into the room. Within moments there were tables set up and a veritable feast laid out before the four companions. When each of them had eaten their fill, Shaunna signaled to the kitchen that they were ready to have the tables cleared and removed.
When the room was once again cleared of the tables and the remains of dinner, each of them retired for the night. Shaunna and Taren snuggled up on one bed, Hope slept on the other bed, and Grathius curled up in front of the fire, looking very much like a large dog taking a nap.
“Taren, where are you?” Parel’s voice echoed through the vast blackness of Taren’s mind. “I am so scared. Please come to me.”
He suddenly found himself running through a stone corridor searching for something he had lost, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was. He burst into a large, treasure filled cavern to find himself face to face with Silax, the Mother Dragon.
Fire exploded around him as he retreated into the corridor. A shield suddenly appeared on his arm, protecting him from the dragon’s fire.
As the fire subsided, Parel walked into the corridor in front of him dressed in a long black dress with red and orange flames streaked up the left side.
“You came,” She said as she approached him. “I’m so glad.” Wrapping her arms
around his neck, Parel kissed him deeply and passionately.
The kiss lasted several minutes. When he broke the embrace he was no longer facing Parel Zalek. Instead, Shaunna Nightshade faced him in a white floor length gown. The smoke from the dragon’s fire...
“Taren, wake up.” Shaunna was coughing violently as she shook Taren to wake him up. “The inn is on fire, we need to get out!”
Taren was brought to a sudden state of wakefulness at the impact of those words. “What happened?” The sudden intake of air as he sat up caused him to break into a coughing fit.
“We have to leave. They will blame us for this. “Shaunna crouched down to the floor to get under the smoke. She had a white cloth over her mouth. “Grathius and Hope are already out.”
Taren wasted no time. Grabbing his pouch off the bed stand, he headed out the
door at a low crouch.
Shaunna and Taren made it out of the inn with little difficulty, but what they saw broke their hearts. The streets were brightly illuminated by the fire that reached into the sky from the roof of the Canavar’s Run Inn. Smoke blacker than the midnight sky billowed into the air as the flames devoured every piece of wood that was in the building. A short way down the road Sarec could be seen hunched over, his shoulders wracked with sobs at the sight of his life’s work up in flames.
Grathius had his sword out as they approached. “You need to get out of town. I will extinguish this firrre beforrre it gets worrrse.”
Taren, Hope, and Shaunna made their way out of the town quickly. They were not stopped by any of the town guards, as all the guards were at the fire. On the outskirts of town they stopped to wait for Grathius.
Taren watched as the flames shooting into the sky slowly began to recede. Happiness filled his soul at the thought of Grathius being able to save as much as he could of Sarec’s building, but the happiness was short lived. A red glow suddenly surrounded the party a split second before the fire shot into the air, higher than before. Suddenly the Canavar’s Run Inn exploded in a massive fireball that incinerated every bit of burnable material in the town. The fire was so hot that they could feel the heat through the strange shield that was protecting them.
“GRATHIUS!” Hope had to physically restrain Taren as he tried to leap forward.
“He is fine, your majesty.” Hope assured him. “The flame blade protected him, just as the father blade protects us.”
Assured by Hope’s claim, Taren allowed himself to be led away from the town to await Grathius’ emergence from the inferno.
As the trio stood at the top of the hill over looking the ruins of the town, Shaunna
watched, shocked beyond feeling, as a chapter in her past was reduced to ash.
When Grathius finally rejoined the group, his head was hung low in shame.
“What happened?” Taren was the first to ask the question that was on everybody’s mind.
Grathius shrugged. “I am not surrre. Some outside forrrce seized contrrrol frrrom Marrrk. He is not even surrre how it happened.”
Taren filed the situation in the back of his mind. He had liked Sarec This was something that he would have to investigate.
They stayed in the area for the all of the next day poking through the ash for anybody that may have survived the inferno. They found no survivors. The group camped on the outskirts of the wreckage, the men not daring to speak to Shaunna about what had occurred. They sat in silence around the campfire, just staring at each other. Hope was the first to break the silence.
“Do you think our followers were in that?”
Both Shaunna and Taren shook their heads.
“No, I’ve seen them throughout the day,” Shaunna explained. “I’m tired, I’m going to bed.” She stood up and moved to her bedroll. “I would appreciate it if we didn’t discuss this.” Without another word she climbed under her blanket and was instantly asleep.
The next morning they wasted no time setting off on their trek again, heading east from the still smoldering remains of the town.
For two more days they traveled toward the rising sun until, at the end of the second day, a large black shadow could be seen on the horizon. So complete was the shadow that it seemed as if the light was swallowed up in the vast expanse that seemed to go on forever.
They camped in the shadow of a large tree, as they had every night since they left the faerie ring. It would give them a tactical advantage should their pursuers decide that they were tired of playing cat and mouse.
“We should reach the edge of the forest tomorrow afternoon.” Shaunna was explaining what would happen over the next few days. “From there it will be two more days hard march to the village. It’s going to be extremely tiring, because we are not going to camp in the forest. There are all kinds of really big nasty creatures in there. Before we enter, I will invoke the protection of the black unicorn. Hopefully she will be kinder to me than the faeries were.”
Mentioning the faeries brought back the familiar feeling of guilt that had been plaguing Shaunna since the night they had taken refuge in the strange mushroom ring. She still couldn’t believe what had happened. Every day she looked at the horizon, half expecting to see Narissa bounding towards them with her feline grace. She was never there, however her absence a shocking testimonial to the loyalty she had towards her friends.
Shaking her head, Shaunna sank to the ground, removing her pack from behind her. Digging out the trail rations she had left, she began to eat. Two more days and she would be able to eat a proper meal again.
They sat in complete silence for a long time, each of them traveling the road that had brought them this far on their quest. They did not have happy memories of the trek. Two companions were missing. The Crystal Blades had always been thought of as Immortal, but this had been proven false. A whole town had been destroyed...
“Shaunna, I am SO sorry,” Taren placed his hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean for all of this to happen.”
A puzzled look crept into her beautiful features. “What are you talking abou... Oh the town?”
Taren nodded.
Shaunna closed her eyes momentarily. “I don’t know how I feel about that. That town was a step in history, and now its gone.” She shook her head. “My history hasn’t been a happy one.” She closed her eyes again, and remained silent.
“None of our histories have been happy,” Hope replied. “We have all lost loved ones, and been forced to live lives that we would otherwise not have chosen to live. We have been brought together, just as our ancestors were. It is time we changed the unhappy direction of our lives.” They all looked at him as he spoke, none of them daring to speak.
“Working together,” Hope continued, “we can change the course of our lives for the better.”
When Hope finished speaking, Shaunna stood up, laid out her bedroll, and wrapped herself in it. “Thank you, Hope. I needed to hear that. Good night, everybody.”
The other three rolled themselves into their bedrolls, and one by one they all dropped
off to sleep. Taren waited until he was sure that each of them was in a deep sleep, and rose from his bed. He walked over to his pack, pulled out the book he had retrieved from the castle ruins, and headed out of camp to find a good place to read.
He walked a short way into the woods they had just come through. On the morrow they would have to cross the open ground between these woods and the denser trees that made up the Black Forest. That would be an ideal time for those that had been following them to make their attack.
Shoving the thought to the back of his mind, Taren decided that now would be a good time to test out his wings. He had not had a chance to test them out since Hope had healed them. Quickly pulling off his cloak and shirt, he spread his wings to their full span, marveling in how good it felt to stretch them. He took a few steps and jumped into the air, rising quickly into the night sky. Circling the area a few times, he picked out a large tree branch that had no cover over it.
Landing on the branch, he settled himself down with the old book to see if he could get an idea of what kind of person his father was. The double moons had both waxed full, giving enough light for him to read the book without straining his eyes. Opening the book to the front page he read: This is a life record of Paron Elloy; may it stand as a witness of the great deeds he performed while he was in his life.
Quickly turning the page, he read on:
We have done it. Derek and I have found a way to fuse my magic with his technology. We have successfully created a sword. We have named him Maxximillian Crystal Blade. We have also found a way to combine crystal and steel to create a indestructible, transparent, alloy that we can forge into the blades for the weapons.
The process has taken longer than I had hoped, because it took me a long time to get Derek to trust me. That is not surprising, due to the fiasco with Silax. He has come to trust me; he has even come to call me friend. With the help of the weapons, we should be able to overcome the dragons.
Taren kept reading until just before dawn, when he found a short passage that was very interesting to him:
I met the most beautiful creature this day. Her name is Ahlana, and she is the daughter of the Salannian Prime Minister. I intend on making her my wife.
A pink light on the horizon told him that dawn was not very far away. He decided it was a good time to return to camp, before the others awoke and began to worry. He dropped from the high branch, extending his wings to slow his fall, and landed very lightly on the soft grass.
As he began to walk back to camp, a shadow fell across him from behind the tree, and powerful arms grabbed him and lifted him from the ground, while another hand covered his mouth to keep him from crying out. The book slipped from his fingers under the crushing grip.
“Look what we have here.” A deep voice sounded from behind him. “The young king has gone off by himself, and has landed himself into trouble again. Where are your friends to protect you now? Where is that infernally cold sword of yours.”
Taren did not miss the reference to Cyan. He wasn’t quite sure what was
going on, but the owner of these large hands obviously knew that he had once wielded the Cold Blade. How could he know that? Who is this being of such power? How am I going to get out of this predicament? These were the thoughts that raced through his mind as the large hands held his arms pinned to his side. He couldn’t even grab the Sword of Star Fire to defend himself, and he had no Cyan to help him as he had when last he found himself in a similar situation.
“What are you going to do, young sparrow? You can’t even fly away, can you?” The voice was mocking him. “Not even going to struggle, are you? You are a brave one, but you are ruining my fun.”
In his shock, struggling had not even occurred to Taren, but it wouldn’t have done any good against such a powerful assailant.
“I’m going to enjoy separating every bone in your body, one by one.”
How am I going to get out of this? There has to be a way. His mind was racing now, trying to find a way to outsmart the elusive being that held him incapacitated. “If applied correctly great power shall be thy gift.” The words raced through his mind with the speed of quicksilver. He had read those words somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where. It somehow seemed very important to remember.
An image took form in the fore-regions of his conscious mind. He was standing in a large room with a small table at its center. Above the table, suspended in mid air, were two gloves, one black and one white. Silver runes glowed on the table, casting the light that held the gauntlets aloft. A message was engraved in the table; a warning and a clue.
The dust settled in his mind as understanding dawned. He was being given a message. Here was the answer to the question he had just asked himself. The power of the gloves he had found in that strange room must be strong enough to defeat even as strong an enemy as this. If he only knew what kind of power it was.
He began to search for the answer to this riddle, the riddle of the gloves, or talons as had been carved into the strange table. As he began to concentrate on the gloves, a surge of power began to rise up his arms, originating at the very tips of his fingers. The power surged through his body, and he found himself suddenly free. He was not prepared for the mighty hands to suddenly release him, so he fell heavily to the ground. He had to have been at least three feet off the ground, another fact he had not counted on, so his knees buckled when his feet connected with the firm soil of the forest floor.
He recovered quickly from the shock, rolling to his feet and snatching the small purple cylinder from the pocket where kept it stored. The strange sword flared to life illuminating the area from the half light of dawn. Lying about four feet from him were the two largest men he had ever seen. They must have stood at least ten feet tall. They had skin that was tinged with a greenish tint that gave them a sick look. Neither had any hair on his head. They had bodies that looked like they may have once been considered lithe, but their abdomen had swollen considerably giving them a deformed look. One of them, the one that Taren thought had been holding him, had iron manacles on his wrists and feet. Chains dangled from the cuffs looking as if they had once held the manacles together. The fingers and toes were black, making them
look even sicker than the green skin of the hands.
As the two men began to lift themselves into sitting position, Taren called out to his companions.
“TO ARMS! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!”
The sound of three pairs of running feet could be heard behind him. Shaunna, Hope, and Grathius all arrived at the scene of the attack, weapons drawn, just as the ogres (for that is what they were) regained their feet.
“Ah, the young king has called his friends to come and protect him.” It was the ogre with the manacles that was speaking, his voice dripping with contempt. “He will not face us alone. Just like last time.”
“Last time?” Taren was confused for a moment, then reality hit him. The iron manacles and the black fingers and toes, obviously frost bitten. “You!” he exclaimed. “You are the one that ambushed me in Knoro’s mansion.”
“Ahh, you are a bright one. The Master is wise not to underestimate you.” The sneer in the ogre’s deep voice was growing ever more apparent as he spoke.
Hope took a small step forward. “You are very well spoken, for an ogre.”
For the first time the ogre took his eyes off of Taren. He looked at Hope with hatred in his gaze. “Yes, the master decided that he could not afford to have any more blunders, so he increased our intelligence. ”
“Wonderful,” Hope wasn’t happy about this turn of events. “This is all we need, first the Mother Dragon and now intelligent ogres. What next?”
Taren would have laughed had the situation not looked so grim. “I’m not sure I want to know what’s next.”
“This is growing tiring.” The ogre spoke in his deep voice as he rolled his eyes. “Since I am unable to defeat you using subterfuge, I propose a more direct approach.” He looked at Taren as he spoke. “I challenge you to a duel, just you and I.”
“What happens if you win?” Taren was trying to stall for time while he tried to come up with another plan. He didn’t relish the thought of dueling a creature that stood above him by four feet.
“If I win, I get to pull each of your bones from your still living body, one by one.” The ogre seemed happy at the thought, “As payback for you freezing me.”
All three of Taren’s companions looked to him for clarification of the comment. He just shook his head.
“If I win?” The young elf was not having any luck thinking of a way out of this.
The ogre grinned, an action that made his ugly face seem to erupt into a shower of teeth. “Not that I’m worried about that, but if you win I will be dead and my companion may as well be. He will leave you unharmed and go back to the Master to tell him we failed.”
Taren shook his head. “Well, if I’m going to die I may as well die fighting. I accept
your challenge.” He raised his sword as he took several steps toward the ogre.
“It is well,” the ogre said as he took one giant step forward. As he moved forward, he
made the motions of reaching toward his back to remove a weapon. As his hand reached the place where most weapons are usually strapped, he closed his hand around thin air and the largest battle-axe Taren had ever seen materialized out of thin air.
Taren shook his head again. “This may not have been the best of ideas.”
Taren and the ogre faced each other, each in the battle stance of preference. Taren held the Sword of Star Fire horizontal in front of him, while the ogre held the massive battle-axe in both oversized hands in front of him. They stood in this manner, motionless, for a few moments, each waiting for the other to make the first move.
Ascertaining that Taren wasn’t going to be foolish enough to attack, the ogre lunged at the smaller combatant. Taren easily sidestepped the anticipated attack, swinging his sword in a wide arc that should have separated the ogre from his left arm. The ogre, however, was too quick for the sword to connect.
The ogre was quick, quicker than something that size should be, a fact that had discomforted Taren. The young king didn’t have much time to reflect on his discomfort however. The ogre was swinging the large axe at Taren again.
Seeing that defense was not going to be a good tactic to take in this battle - he was most likely going to get tired long before this ogre - Taren brought his sword up to parry the blow. As the two weapons connected a crackling sound filled the area, as if a large electric giant had suddenly awakened. Both of the combatants were surprised that Taren had not been knocked off his feet by the force of the blow. They were even more surprised when Taren started forcing the ogre backwards.
The ogre was becoming nervous. He had not expected his opponent to have this kind of power. With great effort, the large hands pulled the axe blade away from the sword. Taren almost fell, as the force that had held the two blades together was broken.
The ogre took advantage of Taren’s moment of confusion. In a great arc the giant battle- axe swung at the head of the ogre’s opponent while the ogre focused a single thought on his weapon. As Taren brought his sword up in time to deflect the blow, he felt the surface of the crystal cylinder dislodge itself from his hand and soar out of reach.
The ogre’s laugh boomed throughout the forest as he watched Taren’s weapon fly from his hand. Taking the handle of the mighty axe in both hands, he prepared to deal the final blow. He stood there for an instant watching the smaller creature cast his eyes around for something to defend himself.
After just a moment of hesitation, the ogre struck.
Taren dodged the blow that would have cleaved him in two, the dodge carrying him closer to the ogre, where he struck out with the only weapon he still had. He punched the ogre as hard as he could in the stomach, not really expecting it to do any good.
As his hand connected with the ogre’s abdomen, he felt a familiar surge of power race through him. It originated from the tips of his fingers and spread quickly through his body.
The ogre emitted a scream of mixed rage and agony as he began to fall backwards.
Taren watched in awe as the ogre fell away from his hand, revealing foot long
silver claws that extended from between each of the knuckles on his hand.
The forest shook with the force of the ogre’s fall. Trees trembled, birds took flight, and small animals scurried from hiding holes to try and find a place that would protect them better from the danger that must be approaching.
Taren was astounded by the power that had just surged through his body. Had this been the same power that had forced the ogre to release him? What were these talons that he had picked up? He suddenly wished that he could speak to either Cyan or Parel; one of them would know what these were.
Heavy footsteps brought him out of his silent musing. As he looked in the direction of the sound, he saw the other ogre running through the forest, trying to get away before Taren decided to kill him too.
“Don’t follow him” Taren called out to his companions as they were getting ready to pursue the ogre. “Let his ‘Master’ handle his failure to kill me again.”
“Again? What’s going on, Taren?” Shaunna was almost on the verge of tears again. She had been very worried about him since he accepted the duel, even more so when his weapon had been knocked out of his hand. Then overwhelming relief coupled with fear as Taren had defeated the ogre with, what seemed like, his bare hands. The claws that had been revealed by the ogre falling away had unnerved her immensely. “How did you do that? Where did you get those claws?”
Taren just smiled as the questions erupted from Shaunna’s mouth. He walked silently to where the Sword of Star Fire had landed. He quickly retrieved the small cylinder and placed it back into the pocket where he usually kept it hidden.
Taren walked over to the book that had fallen from his hands when he was attacked. The cover and pages had been ripped in several pieces and strewn all over the area. He stooped down and carefully looked at the damaged book. It was irreparable. Apparently the other ogre had destroyed it while the duel was in progress. He would not be able to learn any more from those pages.
Without speaking he moved to the ogre’s corpse. He meticulously searched the large body. He found several pouches of unpleasant material that he could not identify. He found a large pouch full of coins. However, he did not find the one item he was looking for. After several minutes he expanded his search to the area surrounding the fallen beast. For several more minutes he searched for a small crystal cylinder. much like the one that he had. He was mildly disturbed that there seemed to be no trace of the star fire weapon. He shrugged to himself, secretly mourning the loss of the second weapon. It would have been nice to have the use of both them
Shaunna was watching every move that he made, as if trying to decide whether or not she had dreamed what she had just witnessed.
“Let’s go back to camp. I’ll explain everything there.” He called behind him as he went. Once they were all back in camp and situated around the campfire, Taren began to explain the events that had just transpired.
“For three years I have been working for the thieves guild in Brightbay. I was affectionately referred to as ‘Satchel’ because that is the name that I gave when I was caught, by Parel, on my first night. The night before the Bard revealed my past to me, I was given a job, through the guild, to break into Knoro’s old mansion and find some orb.”
“As searched the house, I found a strange sword standing in the corner of the wardrobe. It was here that I picked up Cyan, thinking the sword would fetch a nice price on the black market.”
“I was soon to learn that I was not the only one in the house. There was no dust in the house. No indication if someone had preceded me into the mansion. My first instinct was to leave, but I had a job to do, so I went down stairs. It was there that the ogre I just defeated first attacked me. He was able to sneak up on me and grab me from behind. It was Cyan that saved me by freezing the ogre for me so I could escape.” Taren paused a moment, trying to make sure he didn’t leave anything out. Satisfied that he had conveyed the events of the first attack satisfactorily, he went on to explain the events that transpired underneath the ruins of his father’s castle.
“I don’t remember much about what happened after I put the black glove on, but I think that’s when Cyan died. “Taren was just coming to the end of his narration. “But the gloves I found gave me the power I needed to win.”
A million more questions burned in the other three companions’ minds, but the look of weariness on Taren’s face stayed their tongues.
“I’m tired; I’m going to get some sleep. Let’s rest here today. We’ll continue our journey tomorrow.” Taren said as he lay down .
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