If only I were a foot taller. He groaned to himself as he grappled with the giant bully who held his head on the ground. Kyneth was smothered beneath the bulk of Esmir, one of the local boys. Kyneth refused to give in. Let him beat me black and blue, but I will never stop fighting. As soon as I stop, I will stop forever. Kyneth wailed his toothpick arms, seeking leverage to push the larger boy off him.
�Let him go!� The voice was unmistakable. Asmyn, a good two inches taller then him and at least fifty pounds heavier had been his friend ever since they could both remember. �Let him go!� she shouted again, quickly losing her temper.
Asmyn knew Kenyth�s mouth had gotten him into this, once tempted Kyneth would never back down. He had the heart of a lion, but the body of�Asmyn could think of no suitable creature to describe her friend. He was so skinny they often joked they could see through him. Esmir was a bully but he knew better then to allow Kenyth to goad him into a fight. Eventually Asmyn or Cleole would find out and intercept them.
�Esmir Halt!� Asmyn commanded, the undertones of magic resonated long after she shouted.
Esmir froze in place and out shock so did the surrounding rabble who had gathered to watch the fight. Kyneth glared up from where he lay still pinned by the bulk of the frozen bully. She had hurt his pride and he would not forget it for some time.
�Well, don�t just stand there, Esmir! Get up off of him.� Asmyn said, speaking normally.
Esmir did as she said, but shook his head as if he disagreed. The first command had been a result of magic; the second was a result of the psyche of those not as familiar with magic as Asmyn. She knew they would pretty much do anything she said for several days after such a display. She threatened no bodily harm to any of them, but within most people was the fear of the unknown, and to non-practitioners magic was a huge unknown.
�Asmyn!� Kenyth exclaimed as he walked towards her. �You shouldn�t have interfered. Now they will think I have to be saved by a girl!�
�You do have to be saved from a girl Kenyth.� Asmyn replied flatly.
�Asmyn!� Kenyth gasped, seemingly more hurt by her words then her actions.
Asmyn turned to Kenyth, punctuating her point �Kenyth open your eyes! Look at yourself! You are no knight of honor! You are a farmer�s son. Your arms are weak; your neck sits too high from your shoulders, you trip over your own steps! You will never be the great thing that you dream of. You only fool yourself.�
Kenyth felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Asmyn�s words cut deep. �Asmyn, you may not see it now, but some day I will be a great Knight, greater then the Force Knights of olden days. Some day I will rescue even you.�
Asmyn saw the fire in Kenyth�s eyes as he spoke and pitied him. He would never see the thruth. She felt sorry for the poor woman who would marry him one day and bear his children. They would probably starve. Fantasies don�t provide food and shelter.
�Fine, Kenyth. You go and pick fights with ogres! But do it when I�m not around to watch you get hurt!� She shouted, nearly bursting to tears and ran away towards home.
Most of the crowd had broken up and the remaining loiterers looked at Kenyth, whispering to their neighbors. He felt their stares on him heavier then Esmir had been. Maybe Asmyn was right. She and Cleole had bailed him out of nearly every fight he had been in. If it weren�t for them he would not have been around to pick another fight. He knew he was weak, he knew his ribs poked out and his elbows and knees looked huge in comparison to the hollow places where muscles should have bulged; but he could not divest himself with his dreams. He was consumed with the stories he heard and read about knights of old battling great beasts and evil men. He would read these stories and dream of himself, riding his charger into battle, slaying the evil brutes, and saving the beautiful princess. Kenyth sighed. Princess or none, he only wanted to prove himself to Asmyn. She wasn�t the most beautiful girl in town, she was taller then some of the boys her own age and that magic �thing� was definitely a notch against her. People were so superstitious they didn�t understand her abilities. But Kenyth had known her seemingly forever. He knew she looked out for him out of kindness. He thought if he could somehow prove himself, she might think of him as something other then a gangly little boy she was always having to bail out of trouble.
Kenyth�s thoughts turned to his friend Cleole. Cleole was more like a hero to Kenyth then a friend in some respects. Cleole didn�t understand Kenyth or know about the fantasies he had about becoming a Knight. Cleole would only laugh and Kenyth couldn�t stand both of his friends mocking him. Cleole stood a good half-foot taller then Kenyth and was nearly 200 pounds of muscle. The girls in town who hadn�t been wooed by him fought like vicious cats. Those who had been wooed and discarded, though more reserved, were not completely immune to his charms. Asmyn, as far as Kenyth knew was no more impressed by Cleole then she was by Kenyth. The independence and force of will which came as a natural side effect of being gifted with magic made Asmyn less prone to the charms of �mindless muscle� as she referred to Cleole.
Kenyth could think of no reason for such mismatched personalities to get along so well. Kenyth, whose main pass-time was reading in a village of people who were mostly illiterate; Asmyn, a magical genius in a village of people who were mostly�well�idiots; and Cleole� Oh he was an illiterate idiot, but his charms and way with women kept him in trouble. Because there was no competition for lovers between Cleole and Kenyth and there was no affection between Cleole and Asmyn, the threesome maintained a type of balance. If anyone among them could be counted on to be a leader, it would have to be Asmyn. While Kyneth was a well-read dreamer, she was a woman of such intelligence Kenyth wondered how she had ever lived her whole life trapped in the sea of stupidity that was their village.
Chapter 2: Asmyn
That Kyneth! He would never learn his lesson. Kyneth and Asmyn had known each other since they were small children but only more recently did he become so�so�stupid! He was constantly picking fights with bullies tougher then him. He had some crazy fantasy about becoming a Knight and doing something great. She could understand wanting to leave the small village of their birth, but he would need to grow up first; and growing up meant leaving his fantasies behind and facing reality. Asmyn growled to herself at the thought of Kyneth�s stubborn refusal to face the real world. No amount of magical ability could convince him. He would have to learn on his own.
Kyneth wasn�t exactly short but he wasn�t tall either. Asmyn was taller then him and bigger then him. She had the full hips and chest of womanhood no matter how hard she tried to conceal it beneath baggy shirts and trousers. She could easily have married one of the village idiots by now and squeezed out a few pups of her own, but her intellect demanded more of her. She possessed knowledge and ability of one twice her age and she longed for the opportunity to hone her ability. The people of the village accepted her magical ability though no one fully understood it. The only person who ever tried to was Kyneth, but even he could not understand her completely. She wished she could meet some mage who would help her to understand the powers that lay dormant within her.
When Asmyn was twelve, she realized for the first time what she had always known in some dark corner of her mind: she was different. It wasn�t just that she was intelligent, she knew things and whatever she saw, heard, or read she seemed to store in her super-organized mind to recall at any time she needed to. She remembered every detail of every book she had ever read. She knew the precise dimensions of every building in the village. When she was 13 she had a dream about mystical images and when she woke up she knew somehow what they meant. She never took any formal training, she seemed to possess the natural ability to create spells and cast them on instinct alone. Asmyn suspected that somewhere in her heritage one of her ancestors had been Elvin. What else could explain her tall-thin frame, sharp features, and inherent talent for magic?
Asmyn walked through her father�s tavern and into the apartment in the back. Her mother was tending to one of the other children. Those two reproduced like animals she thought, and then mentally chastised herself for thinking such disrespectful thoughts. Asmyn wondered why they had so many children with the concoctions to prevent pregnancy so readily available. If they were not, Cleole would have had many a mess on his hand. Asmyn laughed to herself at the thought of Cleole up to his elbows in baby-diapers and spittle covered toys. That would certainly serve him right! Cleole was definitely a product of no consequence. If he had been forced, just once to take responsibility, he might actually develop into a fine�Asmyn broke her thoughts off right there. What was she thinking? Cleole was a lout. The thought that she would see him as anything more then a friend was disturbing. But the muscles on that one! Something about him spoke to her in a way that was purely primal. Asmyn mentally placed Kyneth�s head on Cleole�s body and sighed. Perfection she thought, but not reality.
Asmyn mindlessly picked up one of her younger siblings, hefted them onto a hip and walked with them out the back door into the small pebble-covered alley. She let the child down to play and sat on the small wooden porch. She was watching her younger siblings file out of the house to play, but her mind was elsewhere. What had Kyneth said to her today? He would save her one-day. She laughed at that. She very much doubted that. She had been saving him for the last two years almost daily. If it weren�t for her and Cleole Kyneth would have been seriously injured or worse. Without me she thought he might not have gotten into those fights at all. Was Kyneth doing all this to try to prove himself to her? Was he really that crazy? She thought about all the silly fantasies he read; dashing knights, maidens in distress, evil monsters and villains. Perhaps he was just trying to prove himself to her after all.
She didn�t want to be a prize to be won. She was an independent, intelligent young woman who could turn him into a toad! She would choose her own man when the time was right for her�if ever. And what if the man of her dreams never came? What Kyneth or Cleole were the only options left to her? No doubt Cleole would not want to pin himself down with any one woman. The whole village would pair off and he would probably remain single to prey upon the next generation of young women. Who would want to marry Kyneth, the sticklike farmer�s son? Asmyn knew she wasn�t exactly being sought after by any of the men in the village, they all held their superstitions and were probably frightened by independence and intelligence anyway.
It was clear to Asmyn what would have to be done. She would have to leave the village and seek a bigger pond, one with more intelligent fish. She would go to one of the big cities, one of the remains of the great empire. She was sure to find a mage somewhere within that city who could help her to use her gifts. Asmyn�s mother called to her from inside and she stood, telling her younger sister Kalyn to watch the little ones. Inside he helped her mother prepare the evening meal.
Kyneth�s father had brought some delicate savory earlier that day. Asmyn could smell the distinct aroma of it baking in her mother�s bread. The savory was an herb not uncommon but expensive because of the amount of care that went into its growth. It had to be watered more regularly then other herbs and it had to be protected from insects and the creatures of the wild that sought it out for its sweet refreshing taste. Many people tried to grow it but just didn�t have the patience and care to ensure a successful crop. Kyneth�s father was the only farmer Asmyn knew who could produce savory every year. Sure it could be dried, but it lost some of its pungent aroma that made it such a delight. When baked in bread it was almost like a dessert. As Asmyn grew older she found that it stirred in her emotions she had never before felt. She had always thought of food as just nourishment, but savory made food a joyful experience. No wonder her parents had so many children; they ate it almost every summer. Her father brewed it into his beer and always held a cask in reserve with the herb in it to be sold during the off-season for growing savory. People paid triple for the beer brewed with savory especially when wooing a woman. It was through the savory that Asmyn had met Kyneth. Kyneth�s father had brought some to her father�s tavern to be sold and Kyneth came along. She remembered he was gangly even then.
�Mother,� Asmyn started, fear choking her up.
�Yes?� her mother asked, aware that her daughter was holding back.
�I have news.� Asmyn stated hoping she would find the way to relay her plans to her mother.
�Oh Asmyn! I have waited so long! I told your father it was never too late! Who is it, Asmyn? Cleole? He is such a handsome one, and strong��
�Mother!� Asmyn cut in, dismayed. �I am not getting married! I�m leaving here.�
Mother�s face went white. She searched behind her for a chair then set her girth upon it. �Oh Asmyn,� she said, her voice full of disappointment. �Asmyn I know these people don�t fully understand your�differences. But Asmyn, you are loved!�
Asmyn�s voice trembled, holding back tears. �Mother, I have to find myself and I just can�t do it here. I feel like I am going to suffocate some days. I need to find people who understand me who can help me to understand myself better,� Asmyn pleaded.
Asmyn�s mother looked desperately at her oldest daughter and then sighed, as if convinced. �Daughter we have only tried to give you and your sisters every opportunity. Your father had those expensive books shipped in from the great city so that you would have all the knowledge of any city-born lady. I guess this is the consequence for wanting you to have everything. I will tell your father. You�re old enough to go yourself, but he will offer his blessing.�
Asmyn hugged her mother fiercely, sobbing like she hadn�t done in so many years. �Thank you mother.�
Asmyn knew her mother had been right. They had given her every opportunity they could. There were just some things that parents could not give. Some things must be learned on one�s own. In her mother�s home, Asmyn would always be a little girl. Asmyn would go and learn to be her own woman.
Chapter 3: Cleole
Kyneth was tired from his long walk through muddy roads back to his father�s farm. The sun was a bloody globe suspended over the tree line like a wizard�s scrying ball. Kyneth imagined such a sunset in his latest fantasy he rode into on his charger with Asmyn sitting behind him gripping him tightly around his chest. Of course the chest in his fantasy bulged with muscles, whereas his own chest seemed to fall into itself where there were no bones to hold it outward. Kenyth looked out over the farmland and sighed. This was a peaceful place. He liked it despite his growing desire to leave and go adventuring. He could not deny the fond memories of his childhood and family. Kenyth approached the small farmhouse door lost in his fantasy-trance when out of the hedges leapt a large figure. Kyneth shrieked and tried to step aside as the massive hulk grabbed him in a bear hug, toppling them both into the grass. Did that oaf, Esmir want revenge so soon? Kenyth wondered.
�There�s no girl here to save you now!� Familiar laughter rose to a crescendo as Kyneth struggled beneath the huge figure.
�Cleole! Get off!� Kyneth demanaded.
Cleole rolled into the grass, hugging his ribs still caught in riotous laughter. �Oh! Kyneth! You should have seen your face!� Cleole was gasping for air, shuddering with laughter. �I thought you would pee yourself!� With this last remark, Cleole exploded into laughter.
Kyneth stood �Ha Ha,� he said, unimpressed. �You gonna lay out as a feast for the flies, or you coming inside?� Kyneth asked.
Cleole stood, laughing still and mussed Kyneth�s hair in a way that intentionally reminded him of his stature. �Aw c�mon, Kyn. It was just a joke.� Cleole pleaded. �And a damn funny one at that!� Another fit of laughter.
Kyneth swiped open the front door, obviously annoyed at his friend�s teasing. Twice today a friend had mocked him. Inside, a fire burned low and the savory aroma of stew permeated the small farmhouse. The two friends walked into the center of the room that served as kitchen, dining room, and living room and grabbed chairs.
�So, what�s wrong Cleole? Got some woman�s fianc�e upset at you?� Kyneth asked, breaking crusty bread into halves and scooping out the insides to be used as bowls for the stew.
�Now Kyn, you know me better then that. Can�t I visit a friend once in awhile?� Cleole asked, his voice relaying mock-hurt.
�Only when you want something, friend.� Kenyth said, relaying his doubts.
�Okay, okay. Rosalie, I think that�s her name, the brunette with the big�� he gestured rudely.
�Cleole!� Kyneth interrupted before the discussion digressed much further.
Cleole looked up as if shocked that one of his own sex could deny the importance of such details. �Kenyth, you amaze me.� Cleole shook his head.
�What happened to Rosalie, Cleoloe?� Kyneth struggled to keep his friend on track.
Cleole rolled his eyes back in his head, woolgathering his thoughts. �Oh, yes. Rosalie said I have to marry her or her father�s going to kill me.� Cleole said, casually as if remarking on the weather.
�Kill you?� Kyneth stood up, his chair grating against the pine wood floor. �And this threat on your life doesn�t bother you?� he demanded.
�No,� Cleole shrugged. �Why should it?�
�Rosalie, the butcher�s daughter wants you to marry you. The butcher�s daughter!� Kyneth pleaded �who could hack you up and sell you at market before anyone knows!� Kyneth lifted his arms in the air in a Y of exasperation then sank back in his chair as if all his energy were spent. �You know what you have to do, don�t you?�
�I thought I would stay with you awhile.� Cleole said, unimpressed by his friend�s display of emotion.
�Me? You want to bring an angry butcher to my house? No, no, no, Cleole. You will have to do the right thing.�
The intensity of Kyneth�s gaze made Cleole sink in his chair. �I can�t kill the butcher, Kyn. It�s just not right.�
Kyneth ran his fingers through his hair and down his neck trying to remain calm. �Cleole, you have to do the honorable thing. Marry Rosalie.�
�I rather like the sound of the market thing instead.� Cleole said, glumly.
�You would rather be in someone�s stew then married?� Kyneth asked in disbelief.
�What�s the difference?� Cleole asked. He knew he would have to think like Kyneth if he were to convince his friend to grant him asylum. �Kyn, the honorable thing for me to do here is to remain single. If I were to deny other women the honor� he glanced up and seeing his friend�s amazement decided upon another path. �I could never limit myself�� No, no that path wasn�t working either. �What about Asmyn?� His final exclamation was one of desperation.
�What about Asmyn?� Kyneth asked, now surprised.
�You know how Asmyn looks at me. It�s clear how much she lusts after me. And you know no one in this town will have her. They call her a witch.� Kyneth�s face reddened and Cleole took some secret delight in torturing his friend thus. �Oh she pretends she isn�t interested, but eventually she�ll admit it. It would be wrong of me to marry someone else and break the poor girl�s heart. See, I�m saving myself for her.� Cleole smiled, victory apparent on his face.
Kyneth wanted nothing more then to leap across the table and strangle his friend. He knew the oaf was just toying with him. He was too stupid to say anything clever so he went where it would hurt�Asmyn. Through gritted teeth he said, �Fine, you can stay here. I�ll tell my dad.� Kyneth stood from the chair and climbed the narrow rickety stairs to the second floor. There under the A-frame roof of the farmhouse were two beds separated by a wall of old cloth. A lamp cast shadows on the upstairs and through the cloth Kyneth saw his fathers silhouette as he sat up in bed.
�That you, son?� The old man asked in a quiet voice, raspy with age.
�Yeah. Kyneth pulled back the cloth. His father was a scarecrow indication of what he would someday become. �Cleole is gonna� stay here awhile, if that�s okay with you.�
�Um-hum. S�fine� his dad said.
Kyneth let the cloth drop into place and turned to walk back down the steps, but turned looking back at his father�s silhouette. The man had worked his whole life for a meager living and when he died there would be nothing left of him but Kyneth.
Downstairs: �Yeah you can stay.� Kyneth slumped into a chair. He looked up scowling and Cleole gobbled up the last of the bread bowl and stew. Kyneth stood up angrily and stormed out the front door.
Cleole replied with a shrug and went back to the stewpot over the fire. �Guess he�s not hungry� he said as he dished a second helping into a wooden bowl.
Chapter 4: The Woods
Kyneth stomped into the woods that bordered the farmhouse and trudged to a small clearing he had found when he was about 4 or 5 years old. Sitting on an old tree stump, he propped his chin on his palm and let out a sigh. Cleole�s words had hurt. He knew Cleole had just meant to win that fight, he rarely thought of consequences to his actions beyond the moment. Kyneth wondered why he helped his friend after being so thoroughly defeated. Asmyn! He thought to himself, as if her name could protect him. She could not love him. It was a waste! She was a woman of surprising intelligence and beauty he hoped he had been the only man to see. If Asmyn had been tempted by Cleole who was Kyneth to stop her? He knew he was a weak dreamer. Why would she set herself with a weak dreamer whose only inheritance was a broken old farmhouse when she could have the brutishly handsome and charming Cleole. Sure he was as poor as Kyneth, but with his stature he could make something of himself. Cleole had a better chance of becoming the Knight-hero of Kyneth�s dreams then Kyneth himself.
Kyneth thought of his dad, frail and old. He would probably die in his bed one winter after the farm froze and the eye-covered potatoes in the cellar ran out. The thought of his father�s death filled Kyneth with dread. How long had it been since his mother had died? She was such a sweet woman with the mark of a woman who had once been a beauty of her own day. The life of a farmer�s wife had indeed been cruel. What could she have seen in his father, Kyneth wondered? Why would she consign herself to the hard, valueless life of a farmer?
Kyneth thought about the times when she would walk with him in these same woods. She seemed to understand without him telling her when he needed to talk. Somehow it was her who first introduced him to the idea of sitting, surrounded by trees, and bearing his soul to the woods. He remembered holding her hand and how she held him when he stumbled. Kyneth knew his father could have these woods cut back an acre or two and take advantage of the rich soil for the sake of his crops. He wondered if his mother shared the secrets of the forest with his father as well. Kyneth found himself wishing he could share his sacred grove with someone. Maybe he could share it with Asmyn. Fear of rejection drove that idea from his mind almost as quickly as it appeared. Kyneth would be crushed if he were rejected so soon after Cleole cut him down with his words.
The thought of his mother gave Kyneth the strength to dare dream that Asmyn would be his someday. If a beauty such as his mother could love his father, why couldn�t Asmyn love Kyneth? A plan began to formulate. Kyneth remembered his mother telling him some of the history of the woods he sat in. They were once part of the grand old empire. The stones that went into the foundations of the surrounding houses and the shops in the villiage had been taken from the great walls of the empire. The streets had long since been covered with growth. Occasionally a great block of stone split by the slow cruelty of the forest could be found.
There were rumors of battles that left great piles of treasure behind in metal armor and artifacts. If they could somehow find one of these treasure-troves from the ancient empire, they would all live like kings for the rest of their lives. Perhaps along the way, Kyneth would finally prove to Asmyn of his bravery and finally make good on his promise that one day he would rescue her.
With renewed hope he stood and marched to the house out of the woods.
Chapter 5: Zole
�Hey, we don�t serve your kind in here, get lost!� the barkeep bellowed, pointing to the exit.
The �creature� to which he referred was a Lizard-man, not uncommon, but given the reputation of being thieves and ill-omened magicians. Their size and agility only accentuated their unsavory lifestyles. Many Lizard-men could sneak in take what they wanted and sneak out again unseen.
�Ah, so you don�t. Well, pray tell my good man, where do the intelligent life forms dine then?� the creature asked, a cunning gleam in his orange-tan eyes.
The barkeep squinted his eyes, knowing he had been insulted but not sure quite what it meant.
�Oh please do continue. I so await your witty repartee. Perhaps you are too stupid to know when you have been insulted?� the creature sneered, his fork tongue darting hungrily in and out of his lipless mouth.
�Out!� the barkeep bellowed lifting a crude cudgel as he shouted. Two of the regulars stepped off their barstools, and hovering over the small intruder crossed their arms awaiting orders from their friend-barkeep or a fight from the small creature.
�Very well, then. I and my gold shall go patron someone else�s establishment.� Most of what had been said was said in a flurry of strange-accented words, except for the word gold, which was said with such emphasis, every head in the bar turned to stare. �I daresay, I rather like quaint little inns and have been known buy many a round for my new friends, and tip heavily for the house.� The creature, a predatorial gleam in his eyes, locked gazes with the barkeep.
The barkeep stammered, deciding whether to refuse this creature, or reverse his earlier decision. Never before had he encountered such a beast carrying gold and offering to spend it freely. He knew his other patrons would demand the drinks at his expense if he refused the creature�s promise to buy rounds for all. Word would certainly get back to his wife and he would take an ear-beating over the lost profits.
�Very well,� The barkeep surrendered. �But cause any mischief, and I�ll have you out on yer�yer�tail!�
�Excellent.� The creature said, his lipless mouth forming an unsettling smile of razor-sharp teeth. �I�ll have your very best drink, and a round for my friends here!�
A roar of appreciation was raised and the cask of savory-brewed beer was rolled out and tapped. The creature introduced himself as Zole and as promised ordered many rounds for his new �friends�. As the hours passed, word spread and nearly the whole village had heard the rumors and went to the inn for free drinks. The creature, a lipless smile painted across his scaly face, seemed to have the manners of a prince. Although he stood as high as a five-year-old child, he carried himself with an air of distinction that spoke of a noble upbringing. He spoke with such intelligence, the insults he hurled at the poor stupid villagers were completely lost on ignorant ears. He laughed inwardly at himself, sneering too stupid to know I make fun of them. I�ll have to come back to this place again.
A young slender woman with sharp, delicate features, long brown hair, and surefootedness brought a tray laden with beer to the table Zole had moved to away from the bar. The inn�s other guests of course migrated with him, hoping to gain favor and more drinks from this over-generous stranger. Something in her eyes told him that she was the one he had been looking for. She carried herself like a noble lost in a sea of fools. She was clearly bored with her service as a bar-maid and somewhat resentful for the drunkenness around her. It was clear that she thought more of herself then a wench to be ordered about by local drunkards. On an instinct, tongue darting in and out of his lipless mouth, he reached out with a three-fingered hand and seized a small portion of her developing backside.
With a whirl of brown hair and drinks, she turned on him, her gaze gone from cool boredom to icy. �What by the Gods makes you think you can touch me?� She demanded as if she were royalty rather then the barmaid. �Didn�t my father warn you he would throw you out?�
Dear Gods! Zole thought. He had definitely picked the wrong woman to test. This demanded cunning. With a flick of his scaly wrist, he produced a small, sticky piece of beer-soaked rubbish. He leapt onto the table so that he was eye level, and took on an innocent, big-eyed look that many humans associated with pets and small children.
�Pardon my rudeness, madame, but you seem to have had something, stuck,� he trailed off, holding the piece of rubbish aloft.
She glared at him, took the piece of refuse from his hand and stomped off to the bar. Returning only moments later with a round of beer to replace those she had dropped in her anger, she plopped the glasses onto the table and muttered under her breath �Compliments of the house.�
Before she could leave the table, however, the small lizard-man held a goldpeice aloft, an innocent look pained on his face. �I insist, milady, and please keep the change for your trouble. And if you would be so kind, bring a chair and sit a minute, I am curious about something.�
The girl was obviously hesitant and looked hastily around the room to see if anyone would be left without drinks. Satisfied that the other guests seemed happily drinking and this strange creature had a seemingly childish look that spoke of sincere apology, she retrieved a chair from another table and sat. The creature asked her many questions about her education, interests, hobbies and the like. She was relieved to have someone to talk to who held certain interests that were above those of pig farming, brewing beer, and making babies. What had earlier been anger and irritation was replaced by sincere happiness. When her father finally called her to the bar to take another round of drinks to other patrons, she stood up happily and seemed to dance across the floor to the bar.
Zole was positively delighted to have finally found what he had sought for so long. An intelligent young person with potential, who lived in this remote, isolated area. This would be easier then he thought. And such a beauty too, oh this will be fun!
Zole listened to the locals, as they got drunker and drunker they told him all about their affairs, feuds, histories, and more. He filed every bit of information into his perfectly organized mind for future reference and when he came upon a thread of conversation which especially piqued his interest, a few choice words and the hidden information gushed forth from the unwary idiots. One woman told him that she had been sleeping with her best friend�s husband. When the best friend who was sitting right beside her looked up she continued with �on their very bed�. This of course started a catastrophic fight between the two women and a resulting fight between the two husbands. Zole watched it all, pleased with himself. Excellent, he thought to himself, most excellent.
Chapter 6: Dreams
Kyneth started awake, his hair plastered to his sweat soaked forehead. He looked around the upstairs of the farmhouse to see if anyone else had been disturbed. Seeing Cleole sleeping soundly on a pallet next to him and his father�s silhouette against the sheet that separated their bedchamber, he lay back in bed staring at the rafters in the ceiling. The shadows writhed, mimicking those awful dream-images.
Kyneth saw giant worm-creatures. Somehow they had been speaking, but Kyneth had heard no sounds. They were eyeless, faceless, limbless creatures but he had the distinct impression they were leaders. He had never even heard of them before but his dream-sense told him they were incredibly evil and incredibly dangerous. He saw them leading armies of creatures that may have been nobler versions of the goblins and orcs occasionally killed while raiding the outlying farms. There were other creatures to, unrecognizable to Kyneth and now obscured by his wakening. The details of the dream began to drift from his cognizance, but the reality of his fear remained. These creatures had led massive armies which destroyed thousands of men�maybe even innocent farmers like his father.
Kyneth rolled over and heard the book he had been reading when he fell asleep crumple beneath him. Stupid stories, he thought. That was all it was, he had been reading and his dreams mimicked the fantasies he read so often. Kyneth tried to recall which of the stories his dream could have modeled itself after. Fear gripped him when he realized that he had never read anywhere of armies being lead by terrifyingly evil gigantic worms. The fantasies that had elements of history in their stories told of the empire�s fight against all manner of beasts. He knew of the great Force Knights whose weapons had been forged to fight beasts in defense of the empire. They were called Force Knights after their weapons of force, which were magically crafted to enhance the natural life force of those who held them. Each weapon would be crafted specifically to attune to the Knight it had been crafted for.
Most Force Knights had evolved into minor nobles and Lords and the weapons passed down through the families. Often scandal would erupt when an heir was unable to wield the weapon; everyone knew the blood of the heir would have to be true for the forces to work. Some mages speculated that after so many generations the bloodline could be weakened to the point that the specific dweomers would not recognize the heir anyway. Of course rival houses could always claim the mages were paid to speak thus and had heir own mages to refute the claims. Some noble houses reverted to inbreeding to solve this problem. Of course, this was easily refuted saying that if the heir had not been a true heir in the first place, the bloodline would not be reinforced in the next generation, but rather introduced.
Many of the popular fantasies that Kyneth read had, contrary to the advise of the noble houses, plotlines which actually mimicked current events in noble society. Kyneth, though intrigued, was always more interested in the fight scenes and rescuing the damsels in distress. Without the formal education of many of the noble city-born, Kyneth had only the knowledge from fiction to draw upon. If anyone knew anything about what he had dreamt, it would be Asmyn. She didn�t have a formal education, but she was always reading expensive books that her mysterious friend named Zole brought from his frequent trips to the city. He knew from her ramblings that many of those books were written about the old Empire�s history and demise.
Kyneth closed his eyes and tried no to think of those giant, worm-creatures and their armies. He tried only to think of how he would convince his friends to accompany him into the woods the next day. The thought of leaving brought his attention to another detail he had forgotten completely. His father. He knew his father had slowed down a lot with age. The amount of land turned over every year and replanted seemed to be shrinking. He knew the price of savory had gone up considerably in the past few years, so maybe the sale of the herb in Asmyn�s father�s tavern made up for the loss. What if something happened to his father? If he were injured or took ill, how would his father take care of himself? What if his father died while he was away?
Chapter 7: Leaving for the City
Zole paced the small bedroom over the tavern that was shared by all of the Barkeep�s daughters. Asmyn was hastily picking over her few possessions and stuffing them into a sack. He had tried all morning to convince her not to go into the city. He had his own reasons for wanting to keep her away; her resolve was maddening. Over the past five years his frequent visits to the village had gone exactly as he had planned. He brought her books to increase her knowledge of all things pertaining to history, science, mathematics, astrology, astronomy, alchemy, phlebotomy, medicine, geometry, physics, and of course magic. As expected she read them hungrily, absorbing the contents as quickly as she could. Some of the more expensive books had to be traded once she had read them. Even he wasn�t rich enough to buy rare books for her to keep.
�Asmyn, if you leave here I shall have to take the books back that I have given you.� He demanded, sure that would cause her to think again about her plans. He had to duck as a book came whirling just inches above where he stood on her bed. �Asmyn!� he gasped. �These are not mere toys to be tossed about. Show some respect for the books!� he chided. The book she had hurled had cost more then the bed she hurled it onto.
�Zole, I expected you of all people to understand. I cannot live here forever. This town sucks the life from my limbs. I am already eighteen! I�m practically an old maid and I have never done anything worthwhile with myself!� Asmyn plopped down on the bed next to where Zole was standing.
�Asmyn,� he cooed, putting a scaly hand on her shoulder �You have so much potential, dear girl; but you are a girl you still have so much to learn before you are ready for the city. I have been there before. I could teach you, I just need more time. Stay a year or two and��
�A year or two!� She interrupted, standing from the bed with a stomp �A year or two and I�ll be so old and dried up I�ll be of no use to anyone! No I will go now and I will learn on my own!�
At that, the door to her bedroom swung open and Kyneth rushed in still panting from his dash up the stairs.
�Asmyn!� he gasped. �I just heard. You cannot leave!�
�Finally someone who speaks with reason,� Zole put in.
�Why is it that everyone thinks they can tell me what I can and cannot do?� Asmyn demanded, poison dripping from her voice. She was but one tone away from using the magical tones and both Kyneth and Zole who recognized such tones knew to be cautious.
�Asmyn,� Kyneth said, this time more calmly. �Please, listen to what I have to say��
�No! I will listen to no more. I am leaving and that is that!� Asmyn insisted, ignoring the pleading in his voice.
Kyneth lost all patience. �You can�t expect to just walk into the city and have the first wizard you meet just give you the training you need. You need money, a place to stay, references; not to mention you�re a single woman unaccompanied by a chaperone. Anything could happen to you and we would never find out about it.�
�Oh, you are one to talk! You cannot even go a day without picking a fight and needing rescue! I have saved you from bullies nearly every day for three years. I am not the one who needs a chaperone.� Asmyn was infuriated.
Zole stood on the bed, tongue darting nervously in and out of his mouth. Kyneth had provided the distraction he needed to formulate a plan. He needed more time to prepare Asmyn for what he wanted and Kyneth seemed to have plans of his own which might buy him that time.
Zole made a noise similar to a hiss and spoke soothingly, almost pleading. �Asmyn, no one here doubts your ability to defend yourself. We all know you to be quite capable. But listen to your friend, he speaks out of heartfelt concern for you.�
Kyneth looked at Zole, surprised at his change in demeanor. He swore he almost detected a hint of magical undertone in his words. When he looked at Asmyn, he saw that she was indeed calmed and somehow affected by his tone. Although Kyneth had known Zole for many years and never had reason to suspect him of any dubious motives, this newly noticed ability made his skin crawl.
Kyneth pleaded with Asmyn, hoping to bring her to her senses. �Come with us, Asmyn. Cleole and I are going into the woods to seek the ruins of the old empire. There is treasure there like none we have ever imagined. We�ll find a fortune in the ruins then we�ll all go to the city to find your mage-trainer. Cleole and I��
�You? Cleole and you?� Asmyn interrupted. �We�ll need Cleole to keep you out of trouble with your big mouth and picking fights with men twice your size!�
Kyneth thought a moment, his feelings hurt when confronted with the truth about himself. �Asmyn, on my word of honor, I will not pick a fight I cannot win.�
�That�s just it, Kyneth. You think you are a match for every fight you pick. You have to face reality. You will never be a fighting man. You are not a champion.� Asmyn wanted him to see himself the way he truly was for once. �Say you will not fight in the city, promise me you will not fight. Anyone!�
Kyneth looked defeated. �I promise I will not fight until you ask me to do otherwise. Some day, Asmyn you will ask me to fight, and I will do it with honor.�
Asmyn shook her head. At least he had promised her. �Ok, we�ll all go seeking this fortune in the ruins of the old empire. But if we do not find them, I expect you to fulfill your part and come with me to the city.�
�Deal.� Kyneth said, nodding affirmatively.
Zole�s eyes seemed to burn with delight. Asmyn had been 13 the night he came into her father�s tavern and discovered her ability. Ever since that night he had tutored her and carefully molded her into what he hoped to be an easily manipulated mage. Her esoteric training was almost complete and he knew her talent grew as her knowledge increased. Zole knew the feeble minds of humans demanded quite a lot of education before their minds could grasp the intricacies of magic. What seemed inherent to him required years of torturous study for humans. Soon if not carefully directed, she would find her magical energy uncontrollable. A tinge of anger and chaos would erupt. While the thought was certainly exciting, Zole knew that if she could not control her ability, she would not be able to summon a familiar, and that was what he wanted more then anything. The ritual of familiar summoning was long and taxing and required immense control. While failure was not exactly dangerous, the drain of a summoning gone awry would take months to regenerate. Kyneth�s plan to go traipsing through the woods on some half-cocked idea would be enough of a delay ensure Asmyn�s training continue in just the manner he desired. He couldn�t have some mage go and undo five years of hard work. He needed her to summon a familiar. He needed her to remain na�ve for just a little while longer. When the time was right she would summon a familiar then he would enter phase two of his plan and finally be rid of this scaly body. Another sound escaped his throat much like a hiss but more closely resembling laughter.
Chapter 8: Worgs Attack
Asmyn and Kyneth spent over an hour assuring and reassuring Asmyn�s parents that she would be safely delivered to the city once the ruins of the old empire had been discovered and of course stripped of their wealth. They were given some money for supplies and went to the local shopkeeper and bought what they could for the journey. Zole, who hadn�t been seen since the decision was made to leave, appeared outside Kyneth�s farmhouse just as the friends were preparing to leave.
�I don�t suppose you thought to leave me behind,� he asked, a smile stretched across his lipless mouth.
Asmyn laughed and assured him it would not be an adventure without him. He fell into step behind Cleole next to Asmyn, and Kyneth taking up the rear frowned. He never completely trusted that lizard-man and always suspected there was something about him that was not as it seemed.
The group approached his favorite clearing with the sun streaking through the trees and he called a halt. The group protested but he insisted. He found the old moss eaten stone he was looking for and knelt in front of it. He closed his eyes and reached out to the stone. Images flooded his mind like they did every time he touched it. The stone was more then just an old piece of the empire; it was the marker for his mother�s burial. Tears streaked his face as he opened his eyes and said goodbye to his mother once again. When he stood he felt refreshed as a cool breeze stirred the trees. The thought of his mother�s shade standing watch over his father while he was away gave him some peace of mind.
The group continued on in silence, this time Asmyn fell back and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She had been there when Kyneth�s mother was buried and remembered all too well how much he had cried. That of course had been three years ago when Kyneth became obsessed with picking his losing fights. Kyneth pondered over the images he had seen when he touched his mother�s stone. All the familiar memories were there but this time, there was something new. It was as if she was warning him of something, but the images were too muddled. He thought of his dreams the night before and shuddered.
The group walked all day since they had started in the late afternoon anyway. They chose a campsite in a small clearing much like Kyneth�s clearing near his father�s house. There were many crumbled stones all in a circle and after a bit of digging they found a stone foundation as well. They were inside the remains of an old cottage. Debris was cleared from the stone floor and each of the friends spread out their own pallets. The stones were smooth and made a better foundation then the rocky ground. Cleole was given first watch and set a small fire in the center of the clearing so that he could remain awake for several hours while the others slept. The friends were on the outskirts of known goblin territory and the more they traveled the more careful they would have to be.
After several hours Cleole woke Kyneth and took his place sleeping while Kyneth busied himself tending the fire to keep himself awake. Kyneth placed a hand on the stone floor as he lowered himself into a crouch where he could poke at the hot coals in the fire ring. Images flooded his mind as he placed his hand on the smooth, cold stone. A small cottage stood beside a well-kept stone road. A large man, his slightly smaller wife, and two children sat in the center of the cottage eating their evening meal. Shadows danced across the walls, large beasts closely resembling goblins flooded into the small cottage. Children screamed and the man stood trying to no avail to defend his home. The family was slaughtered and the house burned.
Kyneth blinked, watching the flames jumping higher as they fed on the new tinder. He wanted to cry as he thought about his own family and how he would have felt if such things were to happen to him. What would bring about such images? He glanced down at the fantasy book sitting in his lap. He wanted to pitch it into the fire. He must have read a story at one time involving the very images he had seen. He looked around into the trees watching for signs of movement. The shadows from the firelight twisted with branches and trunks of trees creating the ghost images of monsters and screaming children. He pinched his eyes closed and reopened them, praying the frightening images would dissipate.
Kyneth was startled awake by a kick to the abdomen and a shout from Cleole. He squinted as daylight filled his eyes. Had he fallen asleep? He had only closed his eyes for a moment to clear the ghost images from his mind.
�Kyneth! We could have been killed! While you were sleeping we could have been dragged off into the woods and killed!� Cleole was yelling, kicking around the rocks and debris around the fire.
The coals were low and smoking ash. The fire had died hours ago. Asmyn was packing her pallet, her hair tangled and rumpled in a way Kyneth found strangely attractive. Kyneth glanced at the sun sitting in the sky. It must have been just before noon. The party had slept nearly the whole day away. They were tired given their march the day before but they simply could not go on this way.
Zole, who had been hefting his own pack onto his tiny shoulder interjected. �Actually, the goblins in these parts are notorious slavers. They would have taken almost all of us as slave, Kyneth they would have killed.�
Kyneth winced.
�Shut up!� Cleole shouted to Zole �Nobody is taking nobody as slaves!�
Zole again interjected �Don�t you mean�� he began to correct Cleole.
�I said shut up, Lizard Man!� Cleole turned to the lizard, his face red with rage.
This time Asmyn interrupted. �Cleole, calm down. Kyneth slept in, so what. He won�t make that mistake again. Will you Kyneth?� She turned to him, something in her eyes flashed briefly daring him to disagree.
Kyneth sat up straight �Uh�I�No, no of course not.� Holding his hand up as if swearing a pledge he continued, �It will not happen again, I promise.�
Cleole calmed down considerably but was still obviously upset. �Damn right he won�t. There won�t be a next time. We�ll all take watch, he will cook dinner and breakfast!�
Kyneth gulped both out of fear of his friend�s dead-serious tone and at his own luck getting out of a shift on watch. �Deal, I�ll cook breakfast.� He stood and began throwing tinder back into the fire pit.
�Tomorrow.� Asmyn out in. �Today we need to get back to the trail. We�ll have to eat our breakfast cold.�
The group tidied up, packed their gear and buried the fire pit. They ate their breakfast cold and got back to the trail, as put by Asmyn. The trail they discovered was actually the ancient road long overgrown by brush and littered with the debris of the forest. Many of the huge stones that had been buried in the ground to produce the road were split after hundreds of years of the patient brutality of the forest.
About once per hour the group came upon pillars, usually fallen to the ground, upon which markings were scribed in some ancient text. The markings were placed on the pillars from top to bottom. Besides each individual mark was a tiny picture-symbol. Where the text was an impression in the stone, the pictures were raised from the stone. Asmyn jotted the symbols and their coordinating pictures into her journal. After several hours a pattern began to emerge. Most of the pillars seemed to have some form of metering of distances. Others contained two different messages, one similar to the others a form of distance marker, the other an unknown and altogether different type of script. These pillars that contained the two types of markings were usually at either a crossroads in the trail or a clearing much like the cottage they had spent the night in the night before.
The second day was slow going, Asmyn making her marks in her journal and Cleole and Zole carefully studying the ground searching for goblin tracks. Twice they had come across the tracks and stopped while Zole disappeared into the brush to scout around and look for enemy movement. After several minutes he would come back reporting no more then wildlife. Just before dusk the group found another clearing and decided to make camp. Against caution, they decided to have a small fire and dinner just before sundown, which was promptly buried to prevent their discovery. Kyneth supposed the fire was more to make a point that he would be expected to cook for the group in exchange for not having to participate in the watch.
During the middle of second watch, the group was startled awake by howls in the nearby forest. With no light to see by, the images in the trees loomed frightfully over the party. The friends quickly and quietly dressed and huddled together in the clearing. Cleole was the only member of the group who was armed. He pulled his giant two-handed sword from his nearby pallet and stood protectively over the group. Zole disappeared into the brush beside them. Kyneth placed a protective arm over Asmyn and even in the darkness saw the look on her face. She knew it would be her protecting him if anything were to get past Cleole.
One of the nearby bushes rattled with movement. A small wiry creature that looked like the cross between a large dog and a goblin came snuffling through the bushes into the clearing. It sniffed the air then called a howl into the night sky. Its howl was answered by several more. In the trees the rustling of bushes marked movement. Zole saw from where he hid four other beasts moving towards where their leader had called. Although these creatures could see well at night, their eyesight was dependant on movement. The friends sat huddled in one spot trying desperately not to move as Cleole provided the distraction. In the darkness the creature spotted Cleole standing, broadsword in hand. He hunched up, snarling, still on all fours waiting to plunge toward Cleole. The creature sprang forward, jaws snapping and Cleole waited frozen with fear until the creature was upon him. With a broad swing of his sword, the creature�s head was lopped from its body and roll still salivating, to the side. Cleole caught the body in midair, and fell to the ground under a hundred pounds of dead flesh.
Cleole threw off the corpse and stood just in time for the other four to make their way to the clearing. They spotted him immediately and charged. One went down as a small scaly figure darted from the bushes and lopped off the creature�s hind leg. The creature fell and turned on Zole, jaws snapping. Cleole, surrounded by three others held his sword aloft waiting for the first to plunge. The beasts jockeyed for position trying to maneuver so that one would be behind him. Cleole carefully sidestepped, keeping the others in sight, so that none could sneak up behind him. Meanwhile, Zole danced serpent-like away from the snapping of jaws from the beast he had be-legged. He was no sword fighter and relied on his defenses until he could get in a swipe that would catch the creature off-guard. He could dance with such a stupid creature all night.
Cleole was backing steadily towards the woods, carefully side stepping the pack as to keep them all positioned in front of him. Finally, he stepped back to the edge of the clearing and stumbled over a branch lying on the ground. He stumbled backwards and the beasts lunged. One finally stepped behind him as the other two leapt towards him providing the distraction their partner needed. Cleole remained standing but struggled for firm footing, swinging his sword unsteadily as the two in front of him closed. Seeing his predicament, Kyneth stood from his protective crouch with asmyn, stepped a few paces away and grabbed a stick.
Kyneth beat loudly on the stony ground and shouted �Over here, you stupid beasts!�
As he had hoped, the beasts were distracted just long enough for Cleole�s sword to land a blow. He split one beast nearly in two, its legs buckling beneath its torn body. The beast behind Cleole leapt, grabbed a hold of his calve and bit furiously. The other beast that had been facing Cleole now turned on Kyneth. Snarling and snapping the beast made his way to Kyneth. Kyneth froze, dropping the stick to the ground. Cleole swung his sword wide and behind himself, removing the creature�s head from its body. The jaws had locked into place so although quite dead, the creature�s teeth remained in his calve. Kyneth barely noticed the movement behind him as Asmyn silently incanted. The air grew heavy around him and he only had an instant to duck before flames sprouted from her palms, leaping inches over Kyneth�s back where he lay crouched against the earth, and singeing the creature�s coat. With yelping and howling the creature turned to run, its coat aflame and stinking. Cleole with his last bit of strength, plunged his sword in the direction of the beast, and impaled it as he himself fell to the ground. Kyneth nearly fainted. Asmyn rushed to Cleole�s side and began to pry the creature�s teeth from his wound.
Zole, still parrying and dancing called to the group. �A little help here, please!�
Kyneth stood, immobile and turned in disbelief to Zole. He picked up Cleole�s sword, barely able to lift it, and swung allowing the weight of the weapon to carry downward. The creature fell under the weight of the sword, and Zole took the opportunity to sidestep the creature, plunging his small sword into the beast�s belly. Kyneth�s swing did no real damage but it gave Zole the distraction he needed to finish the beast off.
�Well done, my good man!� Zole said, wiping his blade on the creature�s coat. He strode over to Cleole to take a look at the boy�s wound. �Tis� but a flesh wound, he will be fine. He merely exhausted himself.�
Asmyn and Kyneth looked at Zole in disbelief. His tine conveyed nothing of excitement or panic over the attack or Cleole�s injury.
�We will need to get moving as soon as he comes around.� Zole said, without emotion. �Those dogs were not mere wild animals. They are pack hunters that live with the goblins. They may have been out hunting but they will be missed and their master swill come for them.�
�What about his wound?� Kyneth asked, real concern evident in his voice.
�A simple bandage will do. He will limp but he will be fine.�