Fragile Peaces

Bewr closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and turned to face Jolen. “You’re Jolen Durana, brother of Telina?” she clarified.

Jolen nodded. “Though, she’s only my half sister. We have different mothers,” he clarified.

Kirel fled the room while Lelwyn stepped forward. “Hail, Jolen! Your sister spoke well and at length of you. I am Lelwyn, Healer from the Order of the Golden Shield. Beside me is my friend, Bewr. The one who departed was Kirel and Rikel was the Knight you probably passed as you entered.”

Jolen held out his hand. “You met my sister? Do you know where she is?”

Before Lelwyn could grasp the offered arm, Bewr started pulling Jolen outside. “She’s,” Bewr swallowed a sob. “She’s outside.”

Jolen, quickly piecing things together, started running after Bewr. “What happened?” He demanded with worry. Bewr led Jolen to the cart and lifted the sheet, revealing Telina’s remains.

Lelwyn placed his hand on Jolen’s shoulder. “I know not the depth of your grief for your sister,” he tried to comfort the Elf. “She was indeed taken too...”

“Later!” Jolen interrupted. “We have an entire village that needs to be saved right now,” he continued, holding back his tears. “Don’t mistake me, the lot of you will be telling me the entire story of what happened to her as soon as we’re not dealing with this,” Jolen paused to think, “curse is what you called it. Right?” he asked to Bewr.

Mayor Tethith saw the commotion and came over. “What happened?” she demanded.

Lelwyn bowed to the mayor. “We discovered news that needs to be reported to the Order in utmost haste. Have you a speaking stone?” he queried.

She shook her head. “No, our village is too small to need one and too poor to afford one,” she informed him.

Bewr scratched her chin. “What about a summoner or any mage who studied summoning?” Bewr asked.

“We haven’t had a mage live in our village for generations,” the mayor answered. “What did you find that’s so important?” she demanded.

Lelwyn straightened his body. “The blight afflicting your village is not natural; ‘tis a curse, from a necromancer, no less,” he explained.

Tethith gasped in shock. “Weren’t they destroyed in the Mage’s War almost 400 years ago?” she demanded.

Bewr entered her lecture mode. “As a group? That’s correct. However, sometimes a stupid, evil mage decides to try to revive the practice,” she explained.

Lelwyn attempted to calm the mayor down. “Worry not. We three are graduates of the Mage’s Academy. We have all been well trained in the art of opposing necromancy,” he assured her.

The mayor nodded her head in relief. “Okay. What are we dealing with here?” the mayor asked. “I mean, what exactly does this curse do?”

“The formal name for this curse is growth stasis field,” at the mayor’s confused look, he continued. “Have you any training in the magical arts?”

“None,” she admitted modestly.

Bewr reentered the conversation. “In short, nothing can grow: people, plants, animals, nothing,” she explained.

The mayor nodded. “That’s why even our crops and animals have stopped growing.”

Bewr added, “I’d bet that your animals have even stopped giving milk or laying eggs.”

“You’d be right,” the mayor admitted in surprise.

Lelwyn pulled Bewr back. “We must gather the others and track down the necromancer who cast this vile curse,” he announced. “There is naught I can do until then.”

The mayor nodded in agreement. “It’s too late now to travel safely. I’ll see to it that you’re given lodging for the evening and provisions in the morning.”

“The lodging will be most welcome, “Lelwyn smiled. “However, we will accept no food from those who have none to spare. We shall conjure our own provisions,” he explained.

The mayor bowed in agreement. Jolen turned to Lelwyn. “I’m going with you,” he announced in a tone that would not broker argument.

Lelwyin smiled, “a guide would be welcome, my new friend. We shall await you at the village gates. We leave at dawn,” he announced.

“Good,” Jolen answered. “That will give me time to lay my sister in our family tomb.”

Mayor Tethith looked aghast. “What! She’s a half-human mongrel! Why would you defile your family’s crypt like that?” she demanded.

Jolen took a deep breath to calm himself. “She’s my sister! I’m laying her to rest with my family and that’s final!” After he calmed down a moment. “Besides, she was my father’s first child. That makes her the family heiress and you know it,” he smirked.

Tethith nodded in reluctant acceptance, barely keeping her rage in check.

Bewr walked over to Jolen. “I apologize if this is a breach of protocol but, would it be okay if we helped you with Telina’s preparations?” she asked. “She was our friend, even if we didn’t know her very long. I can’t speak for the others but I’d really like to say ‘good-bye’ to her properly.”

Jolen smiled sadly, “no offense is taken. Our burial rites are very specific, though, family only.” At Bewr’s crestfallen look, he continued. “When this is over, we’ll have a memorial; you’re invited to attend that.”

Lelwyn placed his hand and Bewr’s shoulder. “Then we shall attend. Until the ‘morrow, Jolen,” he bowed.

While Jolen left to make arrangements for his sister, Bewr and Lelwyn went to search for Rikel and Kirel. They quickly found them at the tavern, drinking heavily with several untouched drinks in front of them on the counter-top.

“No!” Kirel hiccuped around his drink. “I was the one at fault! If I had kept my barrier spell in front of her, she wouldn’t have taken that crossbow bolt to her neck,” he argued with slurred words.

Rikel put down her drink. “You had no way of knowing she’d get that far ahead of us. It was my job to keep you safe; I’m the one who failed.”

Lelwyn walked up behind them. “Neither of you are at fault, my friends,” he assured them. “Kirel, you know very well that barrier spells have an extremely short range. And Rikel, your sword was still stuck in your foe while Telina ran in,” he reminded them.

Bewr chimed in. “The only one responsible for her death is the one who shot her,” she assured them.

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Kirel belched. “Some day, I may actually believe that,” he mused. He then handed both Lelwyn and Bewr a drink. “To Telina,” he toasted. “Taken from us far too soon,” he finished before downing the drink in one swallow.

The others raised their glasses and echoed the toast before downing the drinks.

Rikel finished off her drink. “Are you done for the day already, Lelwyn?” she asked.

“Nay,” he answered, “while I was rendering aid, Bewr discovered that what was thought a blight was actually a growth stasis curse.”

Kirel spit out his drink. “Sobering spell, now,” he ordered. Bewr smirked and cast the spell to return Kirel and Rikel to sobriety.

When Bewr was done, Rikel stood up. “How are you so certain about the curse?” she asked in earnest.

Lelwyn gestured to Bewr. “Bewr used what’s known as Nertel’s Method to determine the basic nature of a spell or enchantment. Though, we could be mistaken,” he admitted.

Kirel rolled his eyes. “Yes Lelwyin, this is the first time in the history of magic that Nertel’s Method has ever been wrong about how a spell works,” he answered sarcastically.

Rikel tried to diffuse the growing argument. “What are we going to do about this?” she asked.

Lelwyn nodded. “We leave at dawn in search of the necromancer who cursed this village,” he ordered. “Jolen will be acting as our guide. He has also invited us to partake in a memorial service for Telina after this crises is dealt with.”

Rikel nodded. “Then we should probably get some sleep before we head out,” she suggested.

Lelwyn smiled. “To that end, Mayor Tethith informed us that she’d arrange for us to have lodging for the evening,” he informed her.

As though summoned by that announcement, the owner of the tavern walked up to the group and handed out keys. “Your rooms are ready. Mayor Tethith explained what you’re doing. Your drinks and the rooms are on me.” The quartet went to their rooms to prepare for the next day.

Morning arrived without further incident so the quartet returned their room keys and made for the village’s gate to meet with Jolen. Fortunately, it the snow hadn’t yet resumed, though the skies were still cloudy.

As the group reached the gate, they found Mayor Tethith arguing with a pair of Elves. Jolen walked over to the group. “Our little village has been graced by the great generals themselves,” he informed sarcastically.

Kirel laughed. “Sorry, who?” he asked in confusion.

Jolen pointed at one of the Elves. “The lady with the sword that looks like it weighs more than I do is Tirlena of the family Icebear, general of the Wood Elf army.” Jolen then pointed to the other Elf. “Whereas he is Nole of the family Darius, the general of the High Elf army and is supposed to be something called a Spellbow.”

Bewr gasped excitedly. “A Spellbow! Those are real?” she practically screamed.

Rikel whispered to Kirel, “what’s a Spellbow?”

The generals in question overheard the conversation and walked over. General Darius chuckled at Rikel. “It’s quite understandable. We can hardly expect a mere to know about the intricacies of Elvish Magic,” he patronized.

Rikel, placed her hand on her sword and glared at the High Elf general. “Do not insult me, Elf!”

General Icebear threw her head back and laughed. “Is it your plan to drive away the only hope this village has? Or do you think you can cure this blight single-handily while exhausted from travel?”

Lelwyn decided to come to his friend’s aid. “This is no mere blight. You are familiar with Nertel’s Method, are you not, General Darius?” he challenged.

“Of course!” the general boasted.

Bewr, seeing what Lelwyn was up to gestured towards the Hall of Healing. “Examine one of the patients,” she suggested to the general.

As General Darius headed off to the House of Healing, Kirel finally answered Rikel’s question. “A Spellbow is an elf who learns to cast spells through their bow, allowing their arrows to have magical properties,” he told her.

General Icebear chimed in. “Only High Elves can become Spellbows. No Wood Elf has ever quite been able to learn the technique. Though, not for a lack of trying,” she whispered the last part.

Before anybody could reply, General Darius ran back, face ashen. “A necromancer cursed this village!” he reported.

General Icebear’s playful mood instantly evaporated. “What can we do to break the curse?” she demanded.

Mayor Tethith cleared her throat to get the attention of the two generals. “As I was saying before the Humans arrived, they’ve already offered to find the Necromancer who cast the curse and break it. I suggest we allow them to get on with it,” she ordered, suggestive nature of her words aside.

The two generals nodded in agreement. Bewr chimed in, “do either of you have a speaking stone on you?”

When they both shook their heads, Lelwyn continued. “Then, should we fail in our mission, it falls on the two of you to arrange for others to save Midway from this vile curse,” he challenged them in dire seriousness.

General Darius nodded solemnly. “I’ll inform Queen Sireleth of these events at once,” he informed the group.

General Icebear saluted the small group with a smile. “And I’ll let King Fireraven know.” She then turned to the other general. “And you make sure you rest up before we meet again; I want our next fight to be a fair one!” she ordered him good-naturedly.

Mayor Tethith walked up to the group. “Thank you for your help in diffusing that situation. If there’s anything else you require before you leave, please don’t hesitate to ask,” she bowed formally.

Lelwyn bowed back to the mayor. “We have that which we currently require,” he answered. “Thank you.”

Bewr shyly raised her hand. “Um, before we leave, we should probably tell you about the poachers we ran into on our way here,” she advised.

Jolen raised his eyebrow while Tethith turned to Bewr. “Poachers, in our forest?” she demanded.

Lelwyn briefed the mayor. “We encountered a trio of poachers on our way here. We tracked them to a small shack a half day’s journey to the east. We slew one but the others absconded in cowardice before they could be dealt with.”

The mayor nodded. “Thank you. I’ll tell my scouts to keep an eye out in case they come back,” she explained.

Kirel got onto the cart. “If we’re done wasting time here, can we leave?”

Bewr got onto the cart next to Kirel and lightly slammed her shoulder into his. “The famous Kirel tact strikes again!” she mocked.

Lelwyn got on the cart between them. “The day is too young for such antics, you two,” he admonished. “Jolen,” he shouted, “please be seated next to us! Rikel shall ride Snowhoof while keeping lookout.”

Once Jolen found his seat, Kirel tried to get the horse moving. “Silreth, stop eating the grass; we have to leave,” he groaned. When the horse didn’t move, Kirel cast a spell that created an illusion of fire behind them, scaring the horse into moving forward.

Bewr turned to Kirel while trying to calm the horse. “Did you really need to scare the poor horse half to death?” she demanded.

Lelwyn placed his hand on Kirel’s shoulder. “I find I must concur with Bewr, my friend. Utilizing your magic to frighten the animal was excessive.”

Kirel shrugged. “We’re in a hurry, aren’t we?” He turned to Jolen, “aren’t you going to chime in, too?”

Jolen shrugged back. “Just walking there would have been fine with me,” he countered.

Bewr finally managed to calm the horse down enough that she was merely trotting instead of galloping in fear. “And what exactly did Silreth do to deserve that?” she demanded in annoyance. “You scared her half to death!”

Kirel huffed in annoyance. “Right now, I just want to get this blasted mission over with so I can return home and continue my research,” he complained.

Bewr glared at Kirel. “As you know, this was a volunteer mission; you weren’t forced to come along with us,” she reminded him.

Kirel laughed humorlessly. “As if you’d have let me hear the end of it if I didn’t go with you,” he muttered.

Bewr ground her teeth. “What did you say?”

Kirel smirked cruelly, “if you’re having problems with your hearing, why don’t you ask the Elf to repeat my words?” he suggested in a mocking tone.

Jolen held up his hands. “Don’t pull me into the middle of this!” he pleaded.

Lelwyn placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. “Cease this foolishness at once!” He ordered. “Bewr! Kirel! Your behavior is hardly befitting that of graduates of the Mage’s Academy of Elrlith! While I will not be so parental as to force the two of you to clasp hands, I do expect you to at least keep civil tongues inside your heads!”

Kirel started to protest but Lelwyn interrupted him. “Do not try my patience in this!” he warned. “And I care not as to who is more at fault!”

As the uncomfortable silence stretched, Rikel let out a sigh. “About time,” she muttered under her breath.

Jolen, being the only one to hear her turned around, “What did you mean by that?” he shouted back to her.

Rikel chuckled. “Only that if I had acted like that while I was still in the army, I would have lost my knighthood then and there,” she shouted back, smiling.

Lelwyn took the reins from Bewr. “Our valiant knight has a point,” he added. “Anyway, now that that nonsense is concluded, where should we begin our search in earnest?” he asked the others.

Jolen got Lelwyn’s attention. “How about where you saw those poachers?” the elf offered.

Lelwyn shrugged. “Unless anybody else has a better suggestion, the cottage where we fought those poachers is as good a place to start as any I can think of,” he admitted.

When nobody offered any other ideas, Rikel started leading them back to the cottage. “Follow me, then,” she told the others.