Wielder's Rising (3 page)

Traven’s eager gaze fell upon the ancient scroll.  The map was an outline of Faldor’s Watch and the western coast of Kalia.  The only thing marked on the map was a single dot near the southern tip of Faldor’s Watch.  Below the map were a bunch of ancient symbols that Studell had called the old tongue.

“That’s where we’re going?” Traven asked as he pointed to the dot.

“Exactly,” the philosopher said with excitement.  Traven’s hopes of finding the ruins disappeared as he looked at the small dot.  If there were ruins right on the coast, he was sure that plenty of ships would have seen them before.

“Don’t you think others would have already found these ruins if they’re right on the coast as this map suggests?”

“What are you talking about?” Studell exclaimed as he stared back at him.  “Faldor’s Keep is not located on the coast.  It’s at least a few days’ journey inland.”  Traven took another look at the map and then glanced back at the philosopher.  He pointed at the dot once again with a questioning look at Studell.

“It looks like it’s right on the coast.”  Studell looked from Traven to the map and back to him.

“That’s not where the ruins are,” he said with exasperation.  “That’s just the starting point.  The map explains where to go from there.  Can’t you read the directions?”  Studell paused as if waiting for him to answer and then started laughing.  “Oh, sorry.  What am I thinking?  Of course you can’t read the directions.  They’re in the old tongue.”

Traven was reminded again of Studell’s interesting personality.  The man often forgot that others didn’t know as much as he did when it came to history and other academics.  He also seemed to expect others to know exactly what he was thinking without having to explain anything.

“Perhaps you could read the directions to me,” Traven said, smiling.  “I would like to know where we’ll be heading once we land.”

“Of course, of course,” Studell replied.  “Sometimes I just think too far ahead.  That’s why I brought you down here to the cabin.  I wanted to discuss the map with you where others wouldn’t be able to overhear.  You can never be too careful you know.”

Traven leaned back over the map as he waited for the philosopher to begin reading.  He had been anxious to find out specifically where they would be traveling and what they were supposed to find at the ruins of Faldor’s Keep.

“The map has the starting point fixed here as you can see,” Studell began while pointing at the southern tip of Faldor’s Watch.  “These first symbols state that the one who opened the chest must follow this map to Faldor’s Keep where he will find ‘what he has been searching for’.  I’m not sure what that necessarily means, but I suppose we’ll find out when we get there.  Below that are the directions for getting to Faldor’s Keep from the starting point that is marked on the map.

“First we must find the exact spot to start from.  The directions state that it will be a small cove near the most southerly tip of the peninsula.  There are two large rocks that jut out of the water several spans out in the ocean in front of the cove.  This is how the cove is to be identified.  Once we leave from Jatz, we will have the captain sail to this point and look for the two rocks.  When we find them, he can drop us off at the cove and our search for the keep will begin!”

Traven wrinkled his brow in thought.  The map didn’t indicate what was at the keep.  It left him wondering what it was that he was supposed to be searching for.  The only thing mentioned on the scroll was that at the keep he would find ‘what he was searching for’.  What was he searching for?  Perhaps he was looking for a weapon that could be used against the wielder leading the Balthan Army.  At least that’s what Studell had convinced the High King of.  The vagueness of the statement of what would be found at the keep concerned him.  It basically meant that anything could be waiting at the ruins of the keep; if in fact anything was there at all.  He turned his attention back to the philosopher as the scholar continued reading the directions.

“From the small cove we will need to journey along the coast for about a day until we reach a break in the cliffs that we can follow up into the desert beyond.  We will follow the break until we reach the ‘shimmering hills’ of the ‘Dune Sea’.  From there we continue due north for a set amount of time until we come to the ‘Keeper’s Staff’.  It will be a tall rock formation that reaches up into the sky.  Just north of the ‘Keeper’s Staff’ will be a small spring were we can replenish our water supply.  At the spring we turn east towards the ‘Twin Guards’, two similar mountains right next to each other.  From there we will head due north again to the ‘Blood Mountains’.  In the midst of the ‘Blood Mountains’ lies Faldor’s Keep!”  The philosopher turned an excited look towards Traven.  “Fascinating, isn’t it?”

He didn’t know if that was the word he would use to describe it.  He knew from his time at the merchant academy that the only thing on Faldor’s Watch was one huge desert.  He wasn’t certain that he wanted to venture into it with only vague directions to follow.  However, he supposed it would have to do since the directions on the scroll were all they had.

He could only hope that with some luck they would find the ancient ruins.  Who knew, maybe they actually would find a treasure hidden there.

2

Traven sat up and hit his head with a loud crack.  He groaned and let himself fall back onto the small bunk.  He had jerked awake as the boat lurched suddenly and sat up without thinking about where he was.  He rubbed is head and hopped down off the upper bunk.  The rocking of the boat had actually helped him to fall asleep the previous night, and with sleep his dreams had come once again.  He didn’t mind his dreams of the Princess Kalista and the crown of Kalia, but he was left wondering once again why they occurred so often and what they might mean.

The last time he had a recurring dream it had led him to the cave in the marsh and ultimately to the golden chest.  He still couldn’t figure out how he had dreamed of an actual place he had never seen before, but somehow he had.  Was it possible that his new recurring dream would lead him to something else important?  If so, he had no idea what it could be.  He couldn’t understand why the crown of Kalia would have any importance in his life.

He quickly dressed himself and grabbed his sword as the boat lurched once again.  He hoped he would be able to get some exercise and sword practice in before it got too busy on deck.  Studell was still snoring quietly as he slipped out of the room and went up the stairs.  The sun had not yet cleared the horizon, and there were only a few sailors up and about.  He breathed in the fresh ocean air deeply with a smile.  The small sleeping quarters had been stuffy and stale.

He almost lost his balance as the boat lurched once again.  He noticed several sailors standing together looking to the northwest.  He followed their gaze and immediately felt uneasy.  Angry looking black clouds boiled in the far distance.  Large waves were rolling towards the ship from the approaching storm.  He wondered if they would have to find a place to dock the ship before the storm hit.  At least the storm appeared to still be fairly far away.

He loosened himself up and started to exercise on an empty section of the deck.  Soon he had his sword out and was methodically going through his forms.  It felt great to be doing them again.  Over the last several days, as his body had slowly regained strength, he had been working his way back up to the intensity of his practices before the kidnapping and rescue.  He was happy to see that his body finally appeared to be close to full strength.  He was very grateful for the strength he had regained, especially with the search and journey that lay ahead of him.  He let his mind rest as he continued through his sword forms.  Soon the sun was peeking over the ocean and gleaming off of his swirling sword.

“What have we here?” boomed the voice of Captain Willie.  Traven turned towards the captain and sheathed his sword.

“Just practicing my forms,” he muttered to the scruffy captain.

“I can see that,” Captain Willie exclaimed.  “You look like you’re quite good with that sword.”

“Thanks,” he replied.

“Now I don’t feel as bad putting you and the philosopher on shore alone at Faldor’s Watch.  I’ve heard tales of the beasts that wander the desert there.  At least now I know the philosopher will have some protection.”

Traven hoped there weren’t dangerous beasts roaming the desert.  He would prefer not to have to use his sword.  The memory of his most recent sword fight with the thieves was still fresh in his mind.  The captain turned to look at the approaching storm and shook his head.

“It looks to be a nasty one,” he stated.

“Are we going to dock on shore before it hits?” Traven asked.

“Nope,” the captain responded.  “There’s really nowhere to dock until we get to Jatz.  Besides, we’re safer out here in the open water than near the rocky shoreline.”

Traven looked from the dark storm clouds to the approaching waves.  He didn’t feel safe out on the open water with the storm approaching but tried to quench his fears by telling himself that the captain knew more about a ship on the ocean than he did.  He was sure of one thing; the lurching of the ship that had been happening all morning was not going to get any calmer as the storm got closer.  He was already beginning to feel queasy and wasn’t looking forward to more movement.

“Don’t worry about it,” Captain Willie said slapping him on the back.  “We’ve been through plenty worse with the Arrow.  The only thing this storm is going to do is give us a ride and put us about half a day behind schedule.”  The captain started to walk away but stopped and turned back to face him.  “You might think I’m crazy for asking, but can I take a quick look at your sword?  I swear the stone in its hilt is twisting the light.”

“Oh, you’re not crazy,” Traven said as he unsheathed his sword and carefully handed it to the captain.  “The stone in the hilt somehow sucks in light.”

Captain Willie took the sword and began to stare at the dark stone in its hilt.  Traven followed as he walked over to the side of the ship to get a better look at it in the morning sun.  The captain leaned over the railing of the ship and held the sword up.  Traven could clearly see the glint off the blade of the sword appear to be streaming into the dark stone.

“If that ain’t the strangest thing I ever saw,” Captain Willie muttered as he turned the sword slowly in his hands.  “I’ve never seen a jewel that did such a thing.”

“It’s not just some jewel.  It’s a stone.”  Traven turned and saw Philosopher Studell coming over to join them.  “A might stone to be exact!”

He smiled as the philosopher burst into an explanation of what in fact the captain was holding in his hands.  Traven touched his chest gingerly.  His cuts and burns still hadn’t completely healed.  It was strange not having his father’s stone around his neck anymore.  Ever since waking up from the horrific event, he had felt the loss of the stone.  It left him feeling strangely exposed.  However, it also left him feeling freer.  He couldn’t explain why, but somehow he felt incredibly different without his father’s might stone around his neck.

“No!!!”

Traven was jerked from his thoughts as Studell let out a scream.  At first he didn’t know what had upset the philosopher so much.  Both Studell and the captain were staring over the side of the ship.

“What have you done, you big oaf?” Studell screamed as he shook his finger at the large captain.

“What have I done?” Captain Willie yelled back.  “You’re the one who tried to grab it out of my hands!”

Traven stared aghast at the deep blue water as the realization hit him that neither the philosopher nor the captain was holding his sword.  They had dropped his sword into the depths of the ocean!  He watched as the ship sped away from where the sword had been dropped.  In despair he stared at the patch of water as he felt the sword stop falling and come to rest on the ocean floor.  What was he going to do without his sword?  It was his most valuable and useful possession.  Not only had it been wrought by the ambience, but it was his main form of protection.  It had felt so natural in his hands.  No other weapon had ever felt the same.  He needed the sword!

He gave a start as he felt the sword growing closer.  He wasn’t sure how he knew it, but somehow he could tell that it was.  As the feeling increased, Traven stretched out his hand, willing the sword to come to him.  Suddenly the sword burst out of the ocean in a spray of water and flashed through the air into his open hand.  His mouth dropped open as he stared at the dripping sword.  Both the philosopher and the captain looked on with disbelief as the ocean water continued dripping off the raised sword and onto his sleeve.

What had just happened was impossible.  He didn’t want to believe what he had seen.  Was he going crazy?  He knew of no way to explain what had occurred, but he had seen it with his own eyes.  He could feel the hilt molding once again in his hand and could see his awestruck expression reflected back at him in the shining blade.  His sword had returned to him.

“What in the . . .” the captain sputtered.  “How could . . .  I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed as he finally finished a full sentence.

Traven felt the same way as the captain sounded.  He began to feel slightly unsteady on his feet, and it was more than just the increasing consistency of the large waves.

“I think I’ll take Traven back to our quarters to get some more rest,” Studell announced as he grabbed his arm and began leading him back to the stairs.  Traven let himself be led down the steps and into their small cabin as Captain Willie continued to stare from behind them.  Studell helped him sit down on the bottom bunk with his hand still tightly gripping the sword.  His lightheadedness started to dissipate as he closed his eyes and rested.  Even with his eyes shut he could tell that the philosopher was pacing quickly back and forth in the cramped room.  He rubbed his head with his free hand.  He wondered if the philosopher might have an explanation for what had just occurred.

“Philosopher Studell,” he began, “what just happened?”