More Metamor in part four!
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Metamor Keep: Heading to All Tomorrows
by Charles Matthias
A bright blue sky overhead blended with streaks
of clouds until it seemed to roil like an ocean
churning through rocks. His steps glided along
the old road, while the smell of wood, farms, and
pastureland inundated him from all sides,
blending into a bouquet of simple charm.
Intermittent copses of trees dotted the stone
road, hoping back and forth all the way up to
cluster of homes and buildings that comprised the
small town that had sprung up at the road's fork.
Beyond this a larger wood spread outward from
which lumber and game could be found. This too
seemed to stretch into the sky and blend as if
all of the colors in the world were made from
fresh paint being sprinkled with raindrops.
Andares felt a presence at his side, but was
surprised to discover that it was a man in his
middle ages, with only the first glimmers of gray
framing his ears and tingling his scraggly beard.
He was draped in a faded green cloak and walked
with a staff fashioned from a fallen branch, now
smoothed so many times by repeated attention that
it was almost glossy. And yet, though Andares
could not remember meeting this man before, it
seemed as if they had been talking for a long time.
Ah, there, Nenuin. You will find lodging there
for the night, the man said while gesturing with
the tip of his walking staff at the town up the road.
Could one even sleep in a dream, he wondered? Yet
when was the last time he recalled carrying on a
discourse with anyone in a dream, let alone a
forester and seeming mystic, perhaps even a disciple of Artela herself?
Thank you for your kind assistance. And where shall you be sleeping?
I? His smile was gentle as his eyes trailed
past the town to the forest beyond. I shall return to my home.
You live in the woods.
Aye, the stranger replied with a warm sigh. I
live there, and they have accepted me as a
friend, even if I remain a stranger to those places.
And these woods have welcomed you?
They are wild, simpler than the wood of your
home, but wild nevertheless. Artela has a special
fondness for even such small forests as that
which blossoms at Nenuin's borders.
Andares felt a bit of delight in talking with
this stranger. His entire body seemed to glow
with joy as he spoke of the forest and his eyes
burnished with the trees and their verdant boughs
as his gaze fixed upon them. You are her disciple then?
Aye, I serve her faithfully. Nothing in these
woods would bring harm to Nenuin, and no man in
Nenuin would bring harm to these woods.
But what of other woods, Andares asked. What
of the Elderwood? It lays on your borders too.
Not as close, the disciple replied with a
gentle wag of one finger. The skin on his face
drew taut as his gaze swept northward toward the
dark green line in the distance. It seemed to
Andares as if the very air congealed in that
moment, and they had to struggle to continue on
their way down the road, thrashing arms back and
forth for several seconds before they broke free.
But... thankfully quiet for many years now. It
has been a long time since we have had to fear the northern hills.
Truly? You have seen nothing then?
Not even the birds fear the north; I watch them
and listen to their songs. They fear each other
more than any monsters from that cursed place.
The disciple turned his head slightly to regard
Andares with a worried expression. Have you seen
something? I have always known your kind could
sense things mine cannot. It is a great privilege
to meet you and share the road with you so short
a way. I will believe whatever you tell me.
Perhaps one day you may yet meet another of my
kind, Andares offered. He cast his eyes back to
the north and frowned. The sky seemed so bright
it almost felt like a barren blue, bereft of even
a simple consoling cloud. As to what I have seen, I...
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April 11, 708 CR
Andares stirred when he felt a hand touch his
shoulder. He curled his fingers around the ivory
handle of Anna-ithil-årda, but in the bleak
morning sky he could still discern the outline of
Anefistar. In a quiet whisper, Andares asked, What is it?
The scholar gingerly stepped back from the
lean-to and cast a wary glance across the
remnants of their fire from the night before. The
dawn had come, but a leaden pallor spread across
the sky from horizon to horizon. A cold breeze
rushed down across the top of the lean-to, but
they could feel its clawing touch at the edges of
their sleeping pallets. I heard their cries
again, Anefistar replied in a hoarse whisper. I...
Andares noted that his companion was already
dressed in his robes and, even as he shifted out
from beneath his cloaks and reached for his
day-time tunics, saw that the hem of his robes
were wet with dew. What have you been doing? I
warned you not to wander without my aid.
I only relieved myself, then came straight back.
Your choose a very good spot to sleep. I can see for miles in every direction.
Did you see anything?
Nothing. But... Anefistar shuddered, one hand
gripping the end of his beard and pulling. I heard it again.
In the week since they had first sighted the
Elderwood, they had traveled as swiftly as they
could, spending each night if possible in a
village where there would be some protection from
the monsters that were ranging more freely than
they had in generations. Twice more they had
stumbled upon one of the four-armed, four-legged
beasts, but their mindless attacks were
predictable and easily thwarted. But at night,
they could often hear the cries of things that
reminded Andares very strongly of another dark time.
While they had journeyed through the jungles of
Marzac, every night had surrounded them by
horrible noises, of beasts croaking and crying,
hissing and snarling, and then some screaming and
some gorging. No matter how calm he'd kept his
exterior in those trying days, he'd never been
able to sleep soundly. How could they when the
strange noises seemed ready to topple into their
tent and attempt to make a meal of them?
Yet even in the comparable safety of the villages
they had begun to hear horrible cries, especially
of livestock milling, frightened and ready to
break. Something ponderous, something merciless
would lurk nearby, its aural shadow a menace to
the senses, forcing his heart to pound more
quickly, shifting always with such deliberate
purpose that Andares found it difficult not to
leap up and try to brace the terrible mysteries that kept out of sight.
Those terrible mysteries always left a splatter
of blood and trails of foul smelling residue from
where they had feasted on some cow or sheep the
night before. The villagers cowered in fear at
the sight of it, what soldiery then possessed
begged Andares to lend them his arm for but one night more.
But haste drove him, and his sleep kept him from
their aid. Still, with such things moving in the
mists of night, Andares did not dare sleep out in the open.
Until last night when they found no village
within reach. He had erected traps in a wide
range about their small lean-to, each triggered
by minor enchantments, but also by little sticks
or fishing line that either he or Anefistar had
brought with them. He had not intended to sleep,
and for several hours he had kept watch from
beneath the lean-to, feeding the fire to keep
their enemies at bay. Even there he made use of
his enchantments to make that fire particularly
bright in every direction except toward the
lean-to. He saw nothing come within the wide
circle of light that stretched for over a hundred
yards in each direction. But still he had heard
the sound of things moving around them, large
heavy things that gouged at the earth and dragged
corpuscular appendages through the long grasses
and shrubs dotting the roadside.
And yet, despite all of his precautions, at some
point, his exhaustion must have gotten the better
of him. How long have you been awake? he asked
Anefistar as he quickly began changing into a fresh set of clothes.
Not long after you fell asleep I believe,
Anefistar admitted with a grimace. Dawn only just came.
Then we should keep moving. We do not want to
spend another night on this road.
Of course, Velelya.
They packed their gear quickly, and then Andares
carefully removed his traps, noting with some
dismay that not a single one of them had been
tripped. He'd hoped for some sign of what their
nightly haunts looked like, but all he could
satisfy himself with was a faint, acrid miasma in
the air. Unlike the night, the day arose
quiescent with only the wind bending the grasses
to vibrate his ears. A few hillocks showed signs
of passage by some fetid thing, but there were no
profusions of blood splattered and smeared as
they had arisen to discover in each of the villages.
Once their gear was collected, they ate a small
bit of bread and salted jerky on the way, their
pace insistent and unremitting. Anefistar panted
for breath after only a few hours, and as they
had seen no other sign of the vile Elderwood
beasts, they rested for a few minutes before
continuing on their way. And while the sun never
broke through the sepulchral canopy of clouds,
they were able to continue in this manner until sometime in the afternoon.
The road began to descend from a ridge
overlooking the low plain that swept down to the
first fingers of the Elderwood feasting up along
the rivulets of streams gorged from snow melt and
rains toward rolling terrain with its own slender
copses of trees and in the distance a town much
larger than the villages they had passed by.
Beyond it lay a forest whose lush boughs were
pregnant with health and sanguine vitality. The
contrast was a welcome one and it gave renewed energy to their steps.
And then, as they continued down the ridge, the
Elderwood lost to sight, they passed between a
long line of trees on either side and Andares
unsheathed his ivory-handled blade. As the last
of the metal left the scabbard with a wordless
hiss, a bilious wretch leaped from one of the
trees, arms spread so thin that they were nearly
wings, while its faceless head writhed with short tentacles.
Anefistar screamed and ducked low, while the Åelf
met this new enemy with a wide slash, cleaving
one of its wings in a spray of yellowed mucous.
The beast, its scream throaty and strident like
glass scratching glass, continued toward Andares,
idiotic tentacles grasping at his tunic and
toward his neck. Andares ducked beneath their
putrid grasp, and slashed again, this time
catching the creature in its middle, flinging it
to the ground. It gibbered as it lashed all of
its varied incoherent limbs, struggling with a
hellish fury to right itself and reach out for the two travelers.
Its backside blossomed with a pair of arrows and
it screamed in fury, though neither Andares nor
Anefistar could see any mouth with which to
scream. From out of the copse of trees to the
south thundered a fully armored knight on
horseback. Iron hooves stopped just before the
beast, and the knight drove a long lance through
its black body, fixing it to the ground where it
continued to helplessly writhe. A trio of riders,
two bowmen, and a man in a long blue cloak, came
out of the woods only a moment later.
Anefistar clutched at the edges of Andares's
cloak as they watched the archers fire a pair of
arrows into its head. The creature convulsed a
moment more, then collapsed on the ground, its mindless rage spent in death.
Thank you, maethor! Anefistar gasped in relief. We are in your debt.
The knight yanked his lance free from the beast's
chest, and then drove the tip into the earth to
clean it. What Velelya would wander these roads
with such vile monsters about?
I am Anefistar, a scholar of Dûn Fennas, and
this is my companion and protector, Andares-es-sebashou.
The knight regarded them from beneath his visor
while the blue cloaked man climbed off his steed
and began sprinkling a sulfurous powder over the
corpse. The two archers kept a wary eye on the
other trees. I see. A scholar and one of the
fair folk. You are most welcome in Nenuin. I fear
that we do not have much time to spare for
Velelya. But we will escort you there. These
lands are no longer safe. I am Sir Pieter
Nephenhir, Justicar of Dokorath and protector of
the lands of Nenuin. Step clear, Velelya, and let my friend tend to his duty.
Both Anefistar and Andares stepped around the
dead thing while the blue robed man smiled to
them beneath a close-cropped beard a bright
mahogany in hue. Murias, he said with a wave of
one hand, returning his pouch of unguents to its
place at his side. It is a great honor to meet you both.
As we are honored to make your acquaintance,
Andares replied with silvery tones that seemed to
die at the edges of the woods on either side of
the road. What are you doing to that foul thing, Heru Murias?
Burning it, or I will be in a moment, Velelya.
If we leave it here like this, the scent will
attract more of their kind. That's the last thing we need!
Then continue, Andares urged even as he turned
to face the knight. Sir Nephenhir, how long have
these Elderwood beasts been haunting your land?
The knight lifted his visor to reveal a face
hardened and stern with deep blue eyes, wide
cheekbones, and a crisp short mustache of black
hair. Three weeks now they have pressed at our
borders, killing our herds and attacking our
farmers and shepherds. I have pressed many into
service defending our lands, but there are only
so many hands to wield a weapon.
Has no other land sent relief? Anefistar asked in surprise.
None, Nephenhir ground his teeth together. And
the monsters only grow bolder.
A sudden whoomp behind them made them jump a pace
and turn. The body was now wreathed in flames,
licking and rising up its surface in a triangular
spire of yellowish-orange light. Murias rubbed
his hands together for a moment, and then warmed
them in the face of that conflagration. It only
took a few seconds before the body charred and
shriveled, revealing nothing beneath its flaccid skin, not even bone.
Well, Murias said as he backed away from the
quickly diminishing fire, shall we go home?
The hamlet of Nenuin nestled on all sides of the
road, which forked at its central square which
was a marketplace filled more with soldiers than
with merchants. The northern fork would
eventually bring a weary traveler to Frondham
even as it gradually left the Elderwood in the
west. The southern fork would bring them to
Delavia, sometimes called Rhuivir, and eventually
to Salinon if they so chose. In the smaller roads
between the homes and shops they had erected pens
for livestock and they bleated and lowed their
displeasure and fear without pausing no matter
how much the shepherds and farmers tried to console them.
Beyond the hamlet, the brighter more welcoming
wood loomed, but it too, on closer inspection,
seemed melancholy, dreamy and brooding, branches
wilting and flinching from that inescapable other
to the northeast. Of all the eyes in the central
square, only one other cast their forlorn gaze at
that wood. Andares saw a middle aged man with the
first glimmers of gray framing his ears and
tingling his scraggly beard gazing with a
miserable ache at that wood. One hand clenched at
the faded green cloak draped over his shoulders
while the other clutched a staff fashioned from a
fallen branch, now smoothed so many times by
repeated attention that is was almost glossy.
Rothrir! Sir Nephenhir called and the cloaked
man spun on his heels. Come show these Velelya
where they can spend the night. They helped us
fell another beast on the western road.
Another? the forester's voice asked in such a
plaintive ache that Andares felt his heart throb
in shared misery. Will the gods not aid us? Will
our own people not come to our aid, but only two
Velelya? He sighed and stepped closer, rapping
the end of his staff on the ground. Forgive my
words of acid, but I have seen so much of
Artela's land desecrated by these hell-spat
beasts. Especially you, Yára Velelya. He bowed
his head toward Andares and nearly came down to
one knee. That you have come among us now, is a
sign that our prayers may yet be answered.
Andares felt deeply touched by this gesture, and
by the hardships these people were facing. I
will do what I can to aid you. I have... I have slain such evils before.
You will again if you stay here, Sir Nephenhir
said as he dismounted and clasped Andares on the
shoulder with a mailed hand. But Velelya should
not stay here. Now go with Rothrir. He will find
you something to sate your hunger and a place to rest your heads.
Will you not come and dine with us? Anefistar asked.
I have patrols to make and men to see. Tell
Rothrir your plans and he shall make sure I am
informed. You will be protected as long as you are in the lands of Nenuin.
We are in your debt, maethor, Andares replied,
before turning to follow after the disciple of
Artela. Rothrir tapped his staff on the
close-packed smooth stones of the street, his
cheeks twitching at each glance of person, dog,
or horse milling around the square. He led the
two travelers through their midst down the
southern fork until they came to an well-kept Inn
with a blue-antlered stag's head painted onto the
sign above the wide oaken door. The inside was
warm but the common area was mostly empty apart
from a pair of nessë trying to keep things clean
in between trying to bludgeon each other with their brooms.
Nessë! Rothrir said with a clap of his hands,
staff nestled in the crook of his elbow. These
two Velelya need rooms and food. Prepare both.
The boys rushed off through a door to the back
after making perfunctory genuflections toward the
travelers. Rothrir sighed and settled onto a
bench at a long table near the door. He gestured
for them to do the same. Anefistar settled
opposite him, forcing Andares to take the seat next to the disciple.
Have the foul beasts entered the wood to your
east? Andares asked gently, one hand on the hilt
of his blade to steady it and keep it from scraping against the wood floor.
Rothrir sighed, rheumy eyes brightening for a
moment, but only a moment. Nae, they have not
ventured into Nan Tavas. Not yet anyway. But many
of Artela's charges have fled anyway. It is...
he closed his eyes and swallowed, a visible
tremor passing through his face. It is so quiet there now.
Not even birds? Anefistar asked in a soft voice
as he leaned forward, pinching his beard between his chest and the table.
They were the first to flee, Rothrir replied
even as his fingers curled more tightly about his
walking staff. Not even the owls remained. The
deer followed them a day later, as did the
wolves, and I have seen neither otters playing in
the streams nor heard frogs serenading the night
for a week now. We have been abandoned here by
our own kind and now by my great Lady's! He took
a deep breath and then shook his head from side
to side. He lifted his gaze to Andares, an
unspoken request creasing every line and
disturbing every strand of hair. Forgive my foul
words. But our cause is desperate and my hope is strained.
Justicar Nephenhir is ably leading the people of
Nenuin, Andares pointed out, though the
heaviness in his heart could not bring him to
claim anything greater than that. Will no one
come to your aid, or the aid of those living near
Elderwood? Do you not have mages in Marigund
experienced in driving back monsters? Are there
no armies in Dûn Fennas who can march these roads and slaughter these beasts?
Mages in Marigund, aye, there are such mages.
All of them still in Marigund! Rothrir replied,
his voice first filled with a barely concealed
anger which quickly melted into a hopeless
resignation. Armies are aplenty in our land. All
to the south and to the west!
Aneifstar narrowed his eyes as he leaned in
closer. Have you not sent messages to Salinon
seeking aid? It is two weeks to reach the city, less by horse.
We have, but neither they, nor Delvaia, nor
Vineta have sent us aid. We do not know if our messages have reached them.
Andares and Anefistar exchanged a long glance,
the scholar's gaunt expression bearing a request
once made, but now renewed. Andares curled his
fingers about the smooth hilt of Anna-ithil-årda.
How could he leave them alone? I will speak with
my people. We will aid where your own have not.
It will take over a month for you to reach your
people, Rothrir pointed with a faint, but empty
smile. And well more than that to bring them
here. Will there be anyone to rescue then? Will
there be any forests left not drenched in their evil?
My path leads me to Salinon, Anefistar offered.
I am not unknown in that city; I can certainly
carry a message of your plight there. Justicar
Nephenhir seems quite capable of holding these
monsters at bay for a few weeks more. That would
be long enough, if Duke Otakar agrees to come to your aid.
If! Rothrir heaved a sigh and tapped the side
of the staff against the table, his eyes peering
into its depths but seeing none of it. He will not listen to a mere scholar.
I am willing to try, Anefistar said with a
renewed fire. I have seen the road and seen these Elderwood beasts myself.
Andares lowered his gaze, and then uncurled his
fingers from the hilt of his ivory-handled blade.
He rested those fingers on Rothrir's sagging
shoulder and pulled him away from his ligneous
contemplation. You are right. A scholar alone
will not be enough to convince the Duke to send
his armies. If you believe your people can hold
out a few weeks more, and if you can spare two
horses, then that scholar will not be alone. I
will go to Salinon and I will lend my voice to your cause.
Rothrir turned and stared at him with ravenous
hope. Even Anefistar brightened, his smile full
of relief. You would go there and leave aside your quest for our sake?
Delay it only, but yes, I will help, Andares
replied. But we will need horses if we are to
make the journey as quickly as possible.
Oh, Yára Velelya, you honor us! We are ever in
your debt! Rothrir leaped to his feet, and after
pressing his hand to Andares's back and nearly
touching the long braid of black hair, he rushed
from the chamber, shouting behind him, I will
find your horses now! Wait here!
Anefistar chuckled under his breath, before
heaving a sigh of vast relief, as if he'd held it
within his chest for weeks. The scholar regarded
Andares with a warm smile, and a gentle nod of
his head. No words passed between them as they
reclined in the old Inn waiting for their food.
Andares hated putting aside the needs of his
people, but he could no longer do nothing. He
just prayed that they would be in time to save
Nenuin and defeat whatever evil seeped from Elderwood.
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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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