Engelsain Tales 22

Allowing his mount to circle freely for a while gave Jordan time to reflect on his return home. This perspective also gave him the chance to see the Mior Mountains as he had never seen.

Watching them from above made him love his homeland even more, but there was a certain fear in him. That’s what he couldn’t understand since Lord Aujir told him he should go home for a brief time.

He now knew what his assignment was, which was a reassuring; but he felt not all had been said and that maybe there was unpleasant news waiting for him at home.
The stir in his stomach returned and his discipline helped him breathe and regain control over his emotions.

Below he could spot the outpost where any traveller could use to make entry into the Mior cities territory. He could see a carriage approaching. He smiled at the thought of the endurance land merchants need to travel to Mior and back anywhere.

About a mile and a half from the foot of the mountains, the merchant was probably eager to reach the outpost, so that the animal could have some water and the way down to the cities would become easier.

Jordan leant forward and his giant eagle plunged diagonally towards the outpost. Feeling the wind rushing strongly through the mounts feathers always thrilled him, and Jordan was looking forward mounting one of the young drakes back at the academy.
Still, RedSting the nickname of this war eagle, was a great companion and helped save Jordan’s life at Inkmaar.

And the land was coming closer, so fast, Jordan had his best times then, flying freely and fearlessly. All the details becoming blurs of speed; as the land approached.
RedSting’s wings shifted and they softly landed behind the outpost.

Jordan decided to wait there for the merchant and maybe escort him into the city.

RedSting flew off into hunting, she would return at nightfall, after enjoying her meals and her spare time.

Jordan opened his waterskin and smiled at the thought of his admiration for Lord Aujir’s wisdom.

The way all the creatures had been trained to be effective and still having a time when they could just be the creatures they were struck Jordan as a lesson he was still yet to fully understand, but he felt it made sense somehow and he smiled as he drank and waited to welcome the merchant’s carriage to the outpost.

Johnathan was usually very scared of wandering around unknown places. He had even been very afraid of Arphork’s animals. But one of them seemed to like his company and even guarded him at times. Johnathan felt less bad having such a warm big dog to rely on, especially during the day, when the others would sleep.
Still, the daytime was his favourite time. Then he wouldn’t have to feel the pain in his stomach, and all the fear he had for Dryan, Arphork and even the sad eyed lady, Margaret.

She was a strange person like the men, but there was something different in her. He thought that she had something in common with him but couldn’t define what.

And now the big dog tugged him away from the village they had stopped at.

Johanthan was already used to the pushes of Moonfang, as Arphork had called him.

And so they went to a hill away from the seemingly deserted village, to watch the sun go down and the fears come back…

Rafanael could clearly see that Toren felt relief in arriving at the outpost at the end of the road up the mountain.

Toren had said the road went only half the way up and that after reaching the outpost a fire should be lit up, during the night so that a guide from the city could come and welcome the visitors as well as check for their intentions in the area.

Rafanael had unexpectedly fallen asleep again during the trip towards the mountain, and the dream had come as strongly as before, but the voice hadn’t come and all he could see was the boy holding on to the winged horse as it landed in front of some kind of arena.

He had shaken the dream away, but the subject was too insistent.
Adding up to his own disturbance he could now see there was a young man waving at them from the base of the outpost. He was wearing some sort of military uniform, and Rafanael tensed up for unwanted confrontations with any authority. He flexed a part of his jaw and brow, hunched a part of his back and in no time he was no longer Rafanael or even Rov. He was old Rover, the hunch back that carries the arc of a family from the east as a gift to a cleric in the west.

He whispered to Toren not to be startled by the change in him, and the man looked at him with a certain fear noticing the change in his voice already.
He also said Toren should do the talking and not really mention Rover’s business, except he came from the East for a delivery.

Jordan was glad to welcome the travellers but as they really approached and halted, he could see they were both weary, and there was something odd about them.

He was still smiling and he remembered he had once, as a kid, wanted to serve as a guide to incoming merchants, so he could see what the other side of the mountains looked like.

“Welcome to the Outpost of East-Mior! I must inquire as to your purpose and how long you intend to stay in our city.”

The driver hesitated a bit before talking, as if trying to remember a message he should say exactly as he had been told.

“I am Toren the merchant, sir, and we travel from the East to make a delivery. I do not believe we are to take long in the city, sir, just the time to recover some strength and get on back to our own homes, sir.”

“I am to escort you into the outpost, good people, but I am unauthorized to take you into the city just yet. Please follow.” Jordan was proud of somehow serving his city; he also remembered he was not officially appointed for the task and that there was a specific order in which guards and guides came to the outpost. He had already started the fire, and hit the bell of the tunnel, so the guide would arrive sooner than at dusk.
Jordan offered some water from the nearby spring and mugs were put on the table so they could sit and wait.

Only Toren came to the table, and the other man remained in the carriage.

“Rover has some backache, he prefers to lie down quietly for a while if it’s OK, sir. It’s been a long ride, sir, and none of us is as fit as a soldier like you, sir.”
“Have some water, good sir, and rest your peace. Soon you both will have a comfortable bed to recover your strength.”

Jordan climbed to the watch and sat there. His stomach was tensed again and taking some moments to scope the landscape would help him ease the feeling in his gut.

It had been long since he had felt so disturbed, especially without knowing exactly what it was that disturbed him.

Northeast from the outpost he could see RedSting circling again, in the distance. He had learned how to distinguish giant eagles from common eagles in the distance, by watching carefully the rhythm of their wings, and the distraction would help him relax a bit, while the sun made its descent to the back of the mountain.

Now it was but a matter of time until the guide would be with them. All he had to do was focus
on the tasks ahead and the love for his family…

Three vampires and a kid?

Can anyone imagine what these four will bring to the Lands of Engelsain?
Twists, turns... and so much more.
Hope you like this.

Engelsain Tales - chapter 21

Night had fallen.
The lake and its surroundings were quiet. As quiet as he had become.
Lying beside him, his backpack supported his harp, conveniently covered by its protective bag.
Bacca had too strong emotions still boiling inside, and this solitude unexpectedly relieved him a bit.
Even though he had long yearned for and feared to meet with elves and to mingle with them, what had just taken place had been far too powerful. It had awoken distant memories, grief, achievements both small and big; and now this turmoil that had bothered him since he came to know of the truth about his mother’s departure would have to be settled.
All the bitterness with his father had to be solved.
Yet now, despite all else; Bacca enjoyed the quietness.
As if the entire world behind had disappeared. In fact, it was as if beyond the lake and the trees there was nothing but the deep night sky.
The faint light from the stars reflected softly on the water and there was the slightest whisper of a note. It was beautifully simple, continuous and taking. Bacca quickly understood that closing his eyes to listen better would not work; the subtle sound was everywhere, the note resounded in his chest, so Bacca decided to ease his breath and remain open.
A part of him was excited that the sound had become clearer, but he persisted on easing his breath and remaining open.
He realized it was a voice that sounded like three; it would be children or women but it was not. It was deeper yet acute.
No, a part of his mind argued; there was another layer of resonance, and that was the deep one.
Somehow the light over the lake became brighter, or was his vision simply adjusting at a great rate to the relative darkness, Bacca wondered.
He didn’t linger on it though, for the light and the sound were becoming all the more intense.
The sound was vibrating into his bones and through his skin. It was as if every pore and muscle was being open and shaken.
Then the voice that had sounded like three multiplied into all possible levels of tone.
Bacca had never heard such moving harmonics; he felt his eyes were once again shedding tears and that was when he realized the new degree of light.
All of him was being crossed by that golden white light, and there was an irrepressible feeling of release.
He was so full of the light and the sound, the sound was music and beyond music; and when the scent of the pine trees started to gather around him, Bacca felt himself tearing open even more.
Driven by the multiple voice and the rejoicing light, he felt his body lifting and spreading.
The sound and the light wound wave delightfully like fire, but not burning; instead purifying and washing all within…
All was full of light.
All was full of love.
All was full of joy.
He exploded and saw all of the land from above.
All the eyes were his to look into and he saw all, and felt the love for all.
A pair stayed longer. They looked like his but wiser and deeper.
A strong wind joined under the light and its sound.
The eyes were fixing his intently and then all of the sudden; Bacca was elsewhere facing the most beautiful vision of a female he had ever laid eyes on. The eyes were hers, then.
Everything went dark and silent.
Bacca fell unconscious on Gronmerthill’s drakeport.

Engelsain Tales - chapter 20

On the edge of the lake, horse hooves slowly paced the shore.

The last light of dusk was leaving. The clouds and trees that had been bathed in the sun’s warm colours seemed like, somehow, were turning in for the night.

The trees whispered as they cuddled into themselves, and the horses ears stood up as if the whisper was meant for them. The clouds embraced each other away as they bade the day farewell.

Nophar noticed the subtle change on the surface of the water and on her horse. She looked at her brother and Bacca, giving them a hand sign to settle down.

She got down from her horse and looked for a certain tree, with roots both in the water and into the Earth.

Bacca’s already acute sense of hearing had developed amazingly in the days since they left Muirlen. Nophar and Nethur had promised to try to help him with his “current condition” and offered to guide him through the mountains and forest to the base of Gronmerthill Table Mountain. If that strange little one hadn’t cursed him by sealing his mouth and shutting his songs away, Bacca would have considered this new level of sensitivity a blessing.

He watched Nophar curiously while she searched for something on the floor; but when she put a thin golden rope around the base of an oak at the shore, he felt the air stir and heard the voices of the forest creatures become silent.

Nophar was kneeling as if she were praying, and when she finally stood up and held her Nethur’s hand, Bacca detected deer hooves gently padding the ground on the other side of the lake.

The hooves were soft but there was an overwhelming wave that pressed his heart each time the deer stepped.

It was the same kind of deep emotion he had felt in his musical trances – but this one was far stronger.

By the deer arrived by the three, Bacca was already so riveted he found himself knelt and facing the ground, his heart bursting uncontrollably. Everything around was made of music, and the closest pulse, the one ahead of him, could only be described as light.

He would later on recall it as silent joy.

A firm hand barely pressed his shoulder and Bacca realized he had been shedding tears. He still couldn’t face the source of this emotion but stood up, feeling humble and grateful at the same time.

The hand left and he grew calm and steady. He could see the horses beside him, but it was the surface of the lake that inevitably attracted him now.

He needed his solitude more than ever.

It was time to face his sorrows, his grief and his past. Only by himself could he mange that.

“Welcome, my children.” Saymi stated, and opened her arms.

Both Nophar and Nethur hesitated, not knowing exactly what to do or how to behave. They couldn’t speak either. They only hung to each other’s hand.

“After all this time, doesn’t a mother deserve a hug from her children?” - Her eyes were filled with tears. Despite everything, her children always turned Saymi into a more outspoken person. She couldn’t stand another moment without embracing them.

Before she broke down, both of them were holding her and all felt the relief of their love.

Of the two siblings, Nethur was the most sensitive to his mother’s shifts of mood or stance. Tonight was no exception. The slightest contraction echoed through their embrace and Nethur stepped away and whispered, while Saymi comforted Nophar still:
“Though we have missed you, Mother, we wouldn’t have disturbed the peace of your home for no light reason. We apologise for the unannounced visit, but the matter is somewhat serious.”

Nethur’s practicality had always surprised Saymi and, at rare occasions, hurt Nophar; but tonight all knew he was in no cold mood.

He was simply right.

Saymi gently left her daughter’s arms and assumed a more formal posture.

“From your friend’s scent I can perfectly tell Hourin has been up to his…pranks. Your friend has now been sent to a battle of his own and his alone. Whether he is released from Hourin’s spell or not depends entirely of the outcome of his inner battle.

As for Hourin himself, you both know how unwise it is to demand an explanation or an exception from him. I would not advise you to do so, and I have only recently returned from the Kingdom. I need my quarantine to establish my bond with him again. Therefore I wouldn’t be able to do it for you.”
Nophar was able to hold herself together again and replied quite seriously:
“Hourin used these circumstances to summon us here.”
“Summon you?” Saymi was perplexed. “Where were you summoned by him? Not…”

“Yes, Mother, Hourin got into Muirlen. He has found a way inside of our magic defences.”
Saymi felt her bowels pressed by an alarm. Hourin was a being beyond the common magic level, but the sacred relics that protect all elves and some humans are almost unsurpassable. For an elven location to be visited by such an uninvited deity, it could only mean that the Gate Icon of Muirlen had been removed.

“You must get to the queen immediately, children, and report all that has happened, including our meeting.”
This last statement was a clear command and the urgency of Saymi’s tone made the sibling look at each other in reluctance.

“Mother, we haven’t been to Gronmerthil in…”
“You will go, sent by me and the queen will receive you promptly.” Her commanding voice seemed louder than it had actually been.

Saymi eased a sigh and her gaze became tender once more.

“Do you forget you were sent by the queen herself to stand in Muirlen as hosts of our kind? Do you forget you serve our race as does she? I cannot tell you why, but our good queen herself may be in danger should you not this task to an end. As in all in nature, so has our meeting come to be.”
With her typical sentence to call upon silence, Saymi kissed both her children on their forehead, blessing them.

Nethur smiled, inwardly thankful to be sent back to the great city, even if for a short time. He knew, though, his sister wouldn’t feel as comfortable as he would, for she had inherited mother’s shyness to big crowds.

He decided to lay camp where they were and soon they were enjoying their ration around a welcoming bonfire…

Engelsain Tales - 19th chapter

An eagle rushed her hunt because the wind changed.

No matter what size, any fish would have to do.

Her eyes sharpened and at the first glimpse of a prey, she plunged in.

In the horizon, under the heavy cover of dark clouds, a lightning shone.

With a trout in her claws, the eagle flew west, towards the mountain top, struggling to take her meal home, in spite of the wind and heavy rain thrown down at her.

Her wings vigorously pushed the air underneath as she couldn’t afford to stop before the nest.

The thunder echoed sombrely, dimming away in the distance.

Focusing on getting home, she ignored the valley below and the temptation of a protecting tree. She knew better than to land on a tree under such weather. She also ignored the travellers on the road by the river.

A humble carriage was pulled by a discouraged mule. Its cover was darkened by the rain, but the driver wouldn’t stop pushing the mule.

Blinding light and a deafening roar burst behind the carriage and the animal hasted into an almost incontrollable race. The passenger had to help the driver hold the reins, because it had all happened too fast for a quick enough reaction.

After a while the mule got used to the sound of thunders and was absently trotting again.

Toren, the driver, spoke. “There is no way this weather is going to calm down anytime soon. We’ll have to make a stop a mile up ahead.”

The passenger just nodded and tried to find some comfort in his soaked cape.

All along the journey this fellow whose name was Rov, as far as Toren could tell, had wore that hood. He was a nice enough young man, although easily distracted, often wandering into his own thoughts or memories. Whenever they crossed an area with people he would pull up his scarf and cover his face, leaving the hood on to cover the upper part.

He said it was for safety. Toren’s safety, mostly.

Good enough, Toren thought under the pressing rain, because the amount of gold he had already been paid would allow him to drive twice as far as the Northern mountain gates and back without needing to see his face.

It still was a mystery though.

Immerse in thoughts of abundance of food for his family in the winter months, Toren started to make a turn to left, away from the road.

Rov looked at him inquisitively but Toren reassured him:

“There is a cave a little south from here. We can try to dry up there and rest until the storm subsides.”
After not too long, they arrived at the place and quietly settled in.

As in the previous stops, Toren and Rov carried the arc to the place where Rov would sleep. No questions asked – more than enough gold for that.

After that, Toren started the fire and they hung up the clothes they could try to dry.

The storm echoed sombrely outside, while Toren fetched them each a blanket, noticing that even the mule seemed to be relieved to be inside. He sat across Rov and Rov handed him bread and ale.

A tasty loaf went down Rov’s throat and then he asked:

“So, you do know these parts well. How long do you think it will take us to get to Mior now?”

Toren pondered while he chewed on the bread and when he found enough space in his mouth he uttered:

“Around one full day under good weather, two or three days if he storm calms down, and five or six if it doesn’t.” As Rov’s brows rose, Toren continued and gave him back the bottle of ale – “The last road that goes down to Mior gets very easily slippery, especially under such heavy rain…”
Rov’s eyes became vague as he was clearly driven into his own thoughts. Toren understood the cue and turned into the blanket, bidding his passenger goodnight.

Rov nodded and hummed, quickly resuming his stream of thought…

Rafanael had fallen asleep unexpectedly, cuddling as an innocent boy would to the blanket on him.

In the next morning he woke up refreshed, a feeling not enjoyed in many years. The clear memory of a dream insisted on coming back and back again.

An ill woman and a boy were taking a hot bath in the same room and they spoke tenderly to each other, often begging forgiveness to each other. When they were clean and dry, the woman took care of a bleeding wound in the boy’s bottom – they must have been son and mother – and an eternity of apologies, wishful thinking and hugs, the boy got dressed with thick clothes and a snow jacket and took a bag and a staff and walked out into the snowy night. The woman made a prayer and one could see the light of the blessing softly shinning down on her and an equal glow falling like snow onto the boy.

Rafanael could see the boy sadly walking away from a village and into a wide path in the nearby forest. The boy resembled many of the people in the area of his homeland but that did not matter at all now. The boy walked and talked to himself, repeating his mother’s prayer over and over again. Rafanael could see the boy from above as if he were softly flying. And then suddenly a bright white light shone beside him and a beautiful, deep and calm voice came from the light:
“Our gathering will soon take place, I will retrieve Nev from the snow and in time your paths shall cross, as his is the icon you now carry. Be in peace, until soon.”
Then out of the light a blue winged horse flew and landed close to the unconscious body of the boy…Nev… the light seemed to pull the boy on to the horse and then it became brighter and brighter until Rafanael was awaken by the sunlight coming in the hut.
Toren asked:
“Good morning Rov, the storm has completely faded away. It will take us a while to get to Mior safely. Would you like to wait here another day before the roads are dry?”
Rafanael shook his head to get a grip on the question and after a long yawn, replied:

“We must get to Mior as soon as possible, I think it’s preferable to deal with possible delays when confronted with them, alright, Toren?”
“Certainly. Let’s get going then; all sunlit hours are precious in these final parts of the trek.”

Toren noticed a subtle shift in Rov’s face and demeanour but didn’t comment. No questions asked – enough gold for that. And they went back to the road by the river and drove away into the mountains.

Up in the sky, a proud eagle was slowly circling up a current of warm air, searching for food or simply enjoying the flight…

Intro post scriptum

Hello again,

I forgot to mention to those who don't know the Engelsain tales yet that you can find the previous 18 chapters in the gallery and journal section of my page at www.innerpeace1979.deviantart.com

More than that,you can also find there pictures of several of the characters and a map which you can use for reference.

Thanks for reading:)

all the best
:)

Intro

Hi everybody,

I hope we all enjoy the journey that is about the be started here.

The Engelsain Tales will now arrive at a new stage.

Characters will come together. Bonds will be broken while others will be forged.

In the upcoming chapters we will see a mysterious character by the name of Rav arrive in Mior, to find a city where he goes looking for a priest to confront... but no one knows tomorrow...

Jordan will meet and start training a new student in Lord Aujir's house.

Genma Hawrry and Godfred become friends.


I'm looking forward to posting.

Enjoy the ride.

Ric