In Search of Auria (14 page)

This complicated things. If things went
wrong, the whole camp would be upon me. From one of the front tents
came out a soldier with a bucket in hand. He was going to gather
rain water. A sudden bolt of lightning flashed close and brightened
the grounds, revealing my presence. When he saw me holding a bloody
knife, he opened the tent and called more men out. Three more
appeared, armed with swords. I put away the dagger and took out my
own sword, along with the shield. I needed to take them out as fast
as I could, without alerting the rest of the camp. I had finally
reached Auria, and I was not going to lose her again. I hit the
first one on the arm, breaking the bone. The second tried to hack
my side, but I blocked, I slashed his torso and pushed him away
with the shield. The third one attempted to pierce my chest while
my shield was out. I tried to dodge, but he cut the outside of my
right shoulder. I stepped back as I felt the burn of his blade. I
glanced for the carriage, but I lost it among the tents. When I
looked back to the soldiers, the fourth one was not there anymore.
He must have gone to alarm others. Now every balorian in the camp
would rise against me.

This was not good; I lost my sight on Auria,
a horde of soldiers would soon come at me, and the bridge was up. I
attacked the third soldier once more, but he parried to the side
and kicked me to the mud. As I tried to get on my feet, I suddenly
felt powerless. The fear of not reaching Auria filled me with
fright. That horror hindered my abilities and drained my hope. I
glanced at the tents again, but the intensifying storm made view
almost impossible. The soldier swung his sword and all I could do
was block, dodge and step back, until he finally pushed me down the
slope. I rolled down to the bank of the river. The mud stained all
my clothes; my gambeson, my pants, my bag, everything. I looked up
and the soldier was joined by a squadron, including a sergeant. He
pointed his finger at me and I heard him yell through the rain,
“Bring him to me. He seems to be the one Vallias’ men just warned
us about.”

Two soldiers came down the slope to fetch my
wretched body. I had lost her again. All my efforts had been for
nothing. My fear and weakness began to flee out my mind to make way
for another emotion, one that saddens the heart and berserks the
spirit. I felt deception. I felt as if fate had played me, showing
me my prize and snatching it away at the last second. And just like
a boy throws a fit when he’s denied what he wants, I wanted to
unleash hell on earth. When the first soldier reached me, I rose up
and slashed his face in half. The second came charging, but he
slipped on the mud and lost balance. He opened his arms and I
raised the rim of my shield to his throat. They both fell before
me. I glared up to the sergeant and let out an agonizing scream.
The noise of the heavy rain wasn’t enough to mute my roar.

Just before the sergeant sent his men my
way, a crashing sound came from behind. The drawbridge had dropped,
slamming hard into the bank. Then, the left tower crumbled and fell
before our eyes. Only a third of it remained standing with rock
slabs scattered on the ground; along with a big iron pole. Right
after, the other tower blasted in half when the giant gear of the
windlass darted through its blocks. Seeing the mechanism sink in
the river, it was clear what was happening: the troll broke free.
What the beast master predicted was not happening in another week;
it was happening now. The rusty chains must’ve broken, or the troll
pulled them out of the softened soil. Whatever the cause, it was
now out of the hole.

The massive creature stood with the chains
hanging from its neck. It opened its humongous hands, stretching
its crooked fingers. Seeing us on the other side, it let out a
vicious growl and made its walk upon the bridge. Its first step
made the wood bend; the second made it splinter, and the third made
it crack. The heavy brute continued as it gravely damaged the
bridge. But, as weighty as the troll was, the bridge did not give.
As the monster neared our bank, the balorians cowered. I, on the
other hand, did not. I slung my shield on my back and held both my
sword and dagger. I waited for the beast, right on the bank.

“He’s going to fight the troll?” I heard the
balorians yelling behind me. “He’s a fool, he’ll die.”

“Let him die,” said the sergeant, “It’ll be
one less problem to worry about. We’ll deal with the troll
afterwards.”

The troll spread out his arms and roared as
I waited before him.

“Come on, ugly! Give me your best shot!”

When the troll got close enough, it lifted
its grimy fist and tried to smash me flat. Mud splattered
everywhere as the fist landed. I dodged to the right and stabbed my
dagger at the meaty bottom of its palm. As it raised its hand back,
I held onto the dagger and let myself be carried up. The lift let
me swing onto its shoulder. I was about to cut into its neck with
my sword, when it seized me with its other hand. The fiend tried to
squeeze the life out of me, and I screamed every time it did. It
must’ve thought I was some kind of squeaking frog, for it smirked
with pleasure every time it constricted me. In one of its obnoxious
laughs, I managed to free my left arm out and stab its thumb with
the dagger. The troll opened its palm in a jerking motion. The
movement threw me up and I lost grip of the dagger. I kicked and
twirled in the air until I landed on a lumpy surface. I soon
realized I landed on the top of the troll’s head. It was now or
never. I lifted my sword and thrust it right through the skull. It
grunted, opening its eyes wildly. I thought that would end it, but
the troll didn’t fall. Instead, it swiped its arm over and knocked
me back. The sword stayed encrusted on its head.

I landed hard behind the monster, almost
dislocating my left shoulder. I was now near the other side of the
river, where the towers once stood. The troll turned around to
pursue me, but I was still recovering from the fall. It walked
close to me, and I felt the bridge suffering with each of its
steps.

The monster reached me and looked down with
a grin. It raised its enormous foot to stomp me flat. I could only
watch as its foot rose above me. Then, light blinded us all. A bolt
of lightning burst through the clouds and struck my sword. All that
mighty power burned from my steel blade to the core of the troll’s
body. The shock made it shake uncontrollably. The bolt lasted only
for a second, but it was enough to smoke its flesh.

The troll stood still, the rain dripping
from its loose arms. I got up and looked at it. Was it dead or just
recovering? Then, just like the slow motion a tree makes before it
falls, the troll began to tilt at my direction. Dead or alive, it
still wanted to squash me flat! I dashed to the bank, not daring to
look back. I passed between the remains of the towers and heard a
loud “blam”. The troll’s face hit the riverbank, and its body
smashed the bridge, at last breaking it to pieces. I hunched over,
incredulous of what had just happened. I had never seen anything
get toasted out in a rainy day. But, my thoughts were brought to a
halt when the troll’s body began to sink into the deep river. My
sword was still stuck on its head! I grasped the sword, but it was
scorching hot. The rain on it boiled. I saw one of the bridge
sentries dead under one of the tower blocks. I ripped a piece of
cloth from him and wrapped it around the sword’s handle. I had to
be quick, for the troll was sinking fast. As the body sank, the
head was being pulled away from the bank. I grasped the sword again
and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge. The lightning had fused it to
the troll’s head! I pulled again, but nothing. My feet were slowly
being dragged by the monster’s sinking. And if that wasn’t bad
enough, I felt an arrow fly by me. On the other side of the river,
balorian archers were shooting at me. I needed to go, but I
couldn’t without my blade. The troll’s head was now sweeping
through the remaining planks of the bridge.

I gave it one last try. I stepped on its
forehead and pulled hard. The skin broke as I finally ripped the
sword off. With my weapon with me, I swiftly ran south upriver. I
ran and ran, till the balorian arrows could reach me no more.

After running from the bridge, I spent the
night under a large rock formation, sheltered from the rain. I put
my shirt and boots on a stone to dry and sat against the wall. At
this point, I didn’t care if the balorians came in the middle of
the night to capture me, or even kill me. I didn’t care. Auria was
now out of reach. I met with failure. I should’ve just kept
fighting the army by the bridge and died with dignity.

After an hour, it stopped raining. I needed
to dry the rest of my belongings, so I made a fire with the little
dry wood and bushes beneath the rocks. I took my blanket and placed
it outstretched on a rock near the flames. Next, I took out the
Yang’s egg. The box was wet, but it was well sealed. The egg and
the red cushion it rested on remained dry. Lastly, I took out the
Book of Beasts. The downpour had wet the cover and the edge of the
pages, but it was not damaged. I hadn’t really read it since
Richard gave it to me. I opened it and observed the descriptions
and illustrations of the various monsters and fiends. I read about
the corvus, pixies, gargoyles, vampires, the freaking lamia. And
then, I turned to a page that was titled “Sun Fairies”. The
illustration depicted rays of light coming from an unknown source.
The description only had one sentence:

“
Being children of the
fiery star, they shine, blind and burn just like the
father.”

Shine, blind and burn. I knew that all too
well. But, if I had feather and ink, I would write that shining,
blinding and burning weren’t the only things they did. I’d write
that they also flew like the graceful swan, and that their bodies
were beautiful and pretty. That they liked conversations, tended to
flowers, and cooked mild worm stew!

It was useless. I couldn’t bear the
memories. I threw the book to the side and my face to my hands.

I started to think how the daystars would be
dealing with their loss. Glorio must’ve kept on wailing like a
paranoid geezer, and Radian had to be organizing a fairy invasion
to the world of man. I didn’t see Beam, but I guess he had to be
sad, too.

Then, I thought about Bri. He was the owner
of the shack beside the pond of the forest. I met him before
leaving for Balora. He would not be sad or tearful like the rest.
He would be expectant and hopeful, because I told him I’d never
give up until I returned with Auria. I promised him.

I was so valiant and righteous when I talked
with him. Now, I was withdrawn with shame and defeat.

A headache began to pain me. I laid on the
ground beside the fire and closed my eyes. This was my last night
here. Tomorrow I would gather my things and return to Miaflore. I
would return empty handed…

*

After the battle on Margot Plateau, Erik
left the frontlines and returned to the camp beside the Forest of
Agony. It was early, so he decided to have a little rest and change
his clothes before visiting Auria. When he presented himself at the
outpost’s gate, he heard someone yell, “Open the gate, the Blood
Marauder is here!”

Erik was amazed his newly acquired pseudonym
was already known here. Raymond must’ve sent a herald with news
about the victory, including the details of his nickname. Erik
laughed at the thought of it. If he kept being a deadly warrior,
maybe the fame would make him a general in no time.

After a wash and a well deserved sleep, he
woke up staring at the ceiling of his room. He rehearsed in his
mind how he was going to apologize to Auria. She indirectly said he
was below her, but he was the one that made her choose between him,
a man she had just met a few weeks ago, and her people, the ones
that had been with her their whole lives. To put it plain and
simple, it was not meant to be. She was a fairy of the forest; and
him, well, the damn Blood Marauder.

He got up and walked to a chest opposite to
the bed. The chest was where he put his apparel. He opened it and
took out a dark blue gambeson jacket. It was one of his finest;
sleeveless and reached above the knees, with diamond pattern
padding. Next he took out a wide silver belt with an octagonal
buckle. It fit him nicely around the waist and had a space to place
a dagger. Lastly, he reached for the bottom of the chest and took
out a pair of black leather gloves with
matching
b
oots. The gloves had straps around the forearms, and the
boots had a latch on the side for fastening.

After all was tight, fit and ready, he took
a good look at himself. It had been some time he had seen himself
this proper and good looking.

Erik needed one more thing before leaving:
his weapons. Above the chest, a heater shield hanged on the wall
with a sword attached behind. The shield was made of wood, overlaid
with tough leather. The rim was lined with iron and held in place
with rivets. It had leather enarmes attached behind to hold it with
the forearm, and a long leather strap to let the shield sling
across the back. The face had a painted symbol of a golden rose in
azure background. The head of the rose was sharp and crown-like,
with a straight thin line for a stem. He took the shield and fixed
it on his arm.

Erik then reached for the sword and took it
out of the scabbard. That broadsword had seen its share of battles.
Not with Erik, but with his father and his father’s father.
Nevertheless, the blade was well maintained and still had its
mirror-like shine. The silver hilt was cross shaped with a red
leather handle, and the overall weight was lighter than any other
sword of its kind. These were the heirlooms left by his ancestors;
The Silver Sword and The Golden Rose Shield. He had never used them
in battle for he believed they were too valuable to get damaged.
But for this occasion, he didn’t mind taking them along. He was
going to see Auria one more time to apologize and to say goodbye.
He wanted to leave her with a good image of himself. Before he left
the outpost, he told the men he would take a final walk in the
forest. He said not to worry if it got late before he returned.