Ever Burn
Prologue
The four kingdoms chose loyal knights and met in a small clearing in the middle of the woods. The king of one of these kingdoms, Tretara, had brought with him another knight, one that he trusted, one that the other kingdoms disliked for his courage and strange ways. This strange knight was called Alanar. At the present moment he was leaning against the rough bark of a fat tree.
Alanar had deep emerald green eyes and a slim, but muscular body. The knight was around the age of twenty. His deep brown hair was a bit too long and covered his ears completely. To those who knew him the expressionless line that served as his mouth was something you’d have grown used to. The knight wore a thin tunic that had a golden sword, with a jeweled hilt on it. It told all that he was from Tretara. He wore a thick line of chain mail over the tan tunic. Slung across his back was a quiver of arrows that were feathered with the fire like feathers of a phoenix. Around his waist was a leather belt where he had a sword and a throwing dagger. He was skilled with a blade, but even more so with a bow and arrow.
In addition to fighting as a knight the art of healing came natural to Alanar. He had long since stopped treating those that were sick in Tretara though, for he had failed to save the life of a girl, named Kara, with whom he was in love. Kara had been a beautiful young lady. She had had long slightly curly black hair that flowed, like a river, over her slim shoulders. Her eyes had been a haunting, but stunning, golden, and her voice like that of an angel.
He was just close enough so that he could here the discussed topic going about between the four kingdoms. His own kingdom, Tretara, the neighboring kingdom to the north, Mondeer, the kingdom the south, Drenarra, and the kingdom to the far west, Linwil, had gathered to discuss a fire that seemed to never burn low; the Ever-Burning Fire. It burned through the heaviest rain storms, through the most blinding of blizzards.
Alanar wasn’t pleased when the three kings and queen looked about their soldiers and shook their heads in disapproval. Those were the knights they trusted, why wouldn’t they want them to destroy the fire? Tretara’s king, Thrain, looked to Alanar and spoke softly so the knight could not hear. The other two kings and queen turned to look at him as well. Thrain motioned for Alanar to join them.
With dread seeming to swallow him up, Alanar walked down the hill to join the kings and the queen. He bowed his head to them and said, “My lords, my lady.” His voice was rough, yet not unfriendly. His green eyes looked up once more, upon the respectful gesture of the kings and queen.
King Thrain said, his voice thick with defiance, “Even though all these knights here are loyal, strong, brave, and more then willing to go on this quest, we,” he gestured to himself, the other kings and the queen, “have decided that you, Lord Alanar of Tretara will be the knight to travel to where the Ever-Burning Fire resides. You are the one chosen to destroy this great caller of evil.”
Thrain was a bold, yet a wise king. He wore the same tunic as Alanar, and, like the knight, wore a thick plate of chain mail over his tan tunic. He wore a large belt that was home to his two swords and dagger. He never went anywhere without them, just as Alanar never went anywhere with out his bow and quiver of arrows. His eyes were hazel and kind looking. Yet behind that kindness there was a firm look that would be used if necessary. Thrain’s hair was curled at the edges and was a soft brown, now graying with age.
Those words hit Alanar with such despair that he almost turned round and walked away, but he knew better. Instead he dipped his head and declined politely, “I am deeply sorry to put an end to such thought, my liege. But I must tell you that I am not ready to journey anywhere, for the account of my last unfortunate adventure still lingers in my mind.” He spoke of his love, Kara, who had perished when he himself failed to heal her fatal wounds.
Tretara’s king shook his head, “You haven’t a choice, my friend.” The king’s deep hazel eyes locked with Alanar’s emerald green eyes. “You must do this, not just for Tretara, but for all the kingdoms.”
Alanar almost scowled, but he knew it would be unwise to do such a disrespectful gesture to the three great kings and the beautiful queen, including his own. Not wanting to appear dishonorable he heaved a huge sigh and said warily, “If you insist, my lord, I will do what you ask of me.” He didn’t want to, but Alanar had little choice.
Drenarra’s king, Cedric, looked Alanar over and spoke to Thrain, “Are you sure this young man is the right one?” The king’s eyes met Alanar and they seemed to say, ‘you’re the reason someone from my own kingdom can’t take this challenge.’
Cedric had broad muscular shoulders that showed his strength. He was tall and muscular. His voice was deep, yet had a sort of gentleness to it. His hair reached his chin and was a sandy brown. His beard was short and unevenly cut, as was his mustache. His eyes were deep with wisdom and were silvery blue. The crest that he wore on his black tunic was one of a white horse head.
“Of course,” said Thrain without the hesitation that would have spread for a period of time, had it been Alanar who had to answer. Alanar glanced at him, but the king saw nothing of the knight’s glance, for his gaze was locked with Cedric’s.
It was the queen of Mondeer, Annabelle, who answered bitterly, “You place too much trust in one person, King Thrain.” Her long black hair, tied in a neat braid, was resting on her shoulder as she sheltered it from the gentle breeze now blowing through the clearing.
Annabelle’s black hair that reached down to about the mid area of her back was tied in a braid, like it always was. Her amber eyes were fierce, but not unfriendly. Unlike Thrain, Alanar, and Cedric, whose castle crests where printed on tunics, Annabelle’s was on her beautiful flowing indigo dress. In the middle of the dress there was a white dragon standing on its back legs, breathing out fire.
Horace, the king that resided in Linwil, agreed with a shake of his head and a deep scowl sent in Alanar’s direction. The knight from Tretara ignored all the disrespectful gestures, hoping that he wasn’t scowling back without knowing it.
King Horace had a mean look to him. His pale green eyes were often set in a deep scowl, as they were now. His tunic was red with the crest of a silvery flame. His eyes hardly ever showed any emotion. If they did they were grim and gruff. Linwil’s king hardly ever smiled. That’s what made him so unlikable.
Thrain said, “No. Alanar is brave and strong. And he won’t be going alone.” When Alanar looked confused the king grinned, “The young apprentice-knight, Ronith is in need of a mentor. He’ll learn much from you, Alanar.”
Alanar was quite disappointed, and hoped that it didn’t show on his face, when he found he’d be traveling with an apprentice-knight, a squire. He guessed the young boy was loud and annoying. But he nodded and thanked the king.
Annabelle glared at Alanar. She said grouchily, “You hold the fate of us all in your hands, Alanar of Tretara.” She tossed the braid off her shoulder and studied Alanar, her eyes fierce, “We won’t react too strongly if we die because of you.” Then she whipped round and mounted her horse. The knight from Mondeer also jumped upon his mighty black steed and, with a final glare toward Alanar, spurred his horse away after his queen.
Cedric looked at Alanar and sighed, “We should not judge you before you even start your quest, I am sorry that we seem to have no faith in you.” The king nodded his head to Alanar and gave the knight a small smile.
Tretara’s knight shook his head. “No, you are right to not trust me. You do not know me like you know your own knights. There is no need for you to apologize,” Alanar said.
Drenarra’s king smiled and slapped Thrain on the back, “You picked the right knight my old friend!” King Cedric winked at Alanar, “Don’t even think of changing your mind, Thrain!”
At those words Thrain beamed. “Do not worry, Cedric. I wouldn’t change my mind even if my life depended on it.”
Alanar sighed, as Cedric shot him a grin and mounted his horse. He gave Alanar a wink and a swift nod, which Alanar returned, and trotted off, toward his castle. His knight grinned at Alanar and followed.
Horace looked uneasily at Alanar then bowed his head to the three Tretarians and swung up into his saddle. His knight mounted as well. Then the two soldiers from Linwil rode off.
Sir Will, the other knight of Tretara clapped Alanar on the back saying, “Congratulations, Alanar.” Will grinned.
Alanar said warily, “What couldn’t you have stepped up? I would have willingly handed the quest over to you.” Alanar’s deep green eyes were narrowed slightly in question. His brow was furrowed with a frown.
Will laughed. “Why do you think Thrain brought you here!?” When Alanar shrugged truthfully the younger knight went on, “He brought me because the other kings, queen and their knights know me. He brought you because you are brave and strong and the rightfully man to complete this quest. He brought you because not many know your name and that you are a better knight then me and the king himself. He knows that, so do I.” The younger knight’s brown eyes glowed.
Alanar took a step back. He shook his head, his voice shaking a little, “I don’t want this. I don’t want to be better then everyone. I want to be normal.”
Will smiled. He said gently, “But you aren’t normal. You proved that with your knowledge of healing and strength in swordsmanship.” When Alanar stared at him, Will said, “Come now, Alanar! We all know that you aren’t normal, now you need to find it out for yourself!”
The knight sighed. “Look Will, I can’t do this, it’ll just bring memories of Kara back to me. I don’t want to be filled with sadness anymore, and going on this quest won’t help at all.”
“You’ve always told us to believe in ourselves and do what has to be done no matter what happens,” said Will firmly. “Are you going to go against your own words because of someone who you loved died?”
“She died because I failed to heal her!”
“It doesn’t matter, she knows you tried and that’s all that matters.”
Alanar glared at the young knight. He said not a word.
“Think of what Kara would say if she still lived. She would want you to do this. Think of her, my friend. If you backed down what would she have done?” Will pushed on.
And Alanar did think about what Kara would have done. She would have made him change his mind someway or another. She would say something to him that would make him think, make him change his mind. He sighed and said, “She wouldn’t have slept ‘till I changed my mind and went.”
Will opened his mouth to say something more but Thrain interrupted, “My apologizes William, but we must return to Tretara.” The younger knight nodded and mounted his horse.
Alanar sighed and walked over to his own horse. The steed was brown with black mane and tail. The horse had been named Levitas, by Kara. Alanar would never change the horse’s name. He mounted the brown steed and trotted to where Will and Thrain were atop their own horses.
Will rode on ahead while Alanar stayed back with Thrain. The king was explaining, “As you may already know, the Ever-Burning Fire, which we have done countless studies on, is a caller of evil. If it continues to burn it will call great hosts of evil to the kingdoms. We can not let that happen, Alanar. That is why you are being sent to destroy it once and for all. But you can not do this alone. There is an elf queen to the west in a castle know as the Western Isles. If she gives you the information you seek you may have a chance to destroy the fire. Be weary though, for Tretara and her kind are not in good terms at the present time.” The king met Alanar’s eyes and said, warily, “I am sorry my friend, but this may be your death. And Ronith’s too. But remember this; if you fail in time we will all die.”
Alanar was astounded at the pressure that was now weighing him down. There was too much to worry about. He took a breath and asked, “How do I get to the Western Isles?”
Thrain said, pulling a map from his belt, “I marked out the path on here.” He pointed to a cave entrance, “Be careful here. It’s the entrance to the Caves of Darr. Not only is it old and could very well collapse, it’s filled with Walers.”
Walers were large lizard like creature that stood on their back legs, like humans. They had snake like tongues and narrowed yellow eyes. They were commonly green and always carried a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a flask of poison, to use against their most dread enemies. This poison was from their jagged canine teeth, and could burn through even the thickest of armor. Even though the poison came from them, the Walers’ bite is more dangerous then getting hit with one of their poisoned arrows. If you’re bitten you have less then an hour to live before the poison sets in. There is no cure to this deadly venom, which makes it all the more dangerous.
Alanar was suddenly filled with sadness and anger. When King Thrain was an adviser to the old king of Tretara, Alanar’s father had been the leading knight. The king had sent Thrain and Alanar’s father to the Caves of Darr to deal with the Walers. Only Thrain returned. In the caves they had fought against the Walers and Alanar’s father had been shot with an arrow and Thrain had left him, to save his own life. Despite the protests of his mind Alanar growled at his king, “Do you still remember that day you left my father to save yourself?”
Thrain turned his head to Alanar, his eyes glaring. “I did not leave him, I tried to save Ivan. He told me to leave him and save myself.”
“Lies!” snarled Alanar. “It’s all lies!” He knew he shouldn’t have spoken that way to the king of Tretara, but his anger was swallowing him whole, controlling him like a sorcerer’s spell.
Thrain snapped, “Alanar! I should have you thrown in the dungeons for your ignorance.” The king’s eyes were narrowed with anger, “But since you’re going on the quest soon, I’ll just say, when you get back there’ll be a place in the dungeon waiting for you.” Then with a final glare at Alanar the king galloped ahead.
Alanar sighed and silently cursed himself for being so stupid. He followed the king and his fellow knight slowly. Soon he reached the castle drawbridge and he crossed over it, with a nod to the guards stationed there.
The Tretara castle had large battlements that were guarded by a guard each. The moat that circled the fortress was filled as much as it could be without it spilling over the drawbridge. After crossing the bridge you entered a large courtyard that contained the stables to the far right. The nobility chambers were straight ahead and the servant chambers to the left. The armory was next to the stables. Outside the king’s chambers there was a large balcony that over looked the courtyard.
Alanar was just dismounting his horse and was about to take him to the stables when a boy, about twelve ran up. The boy had light brown hair that came down to his chin and had thoughtful blue eyes. His tonic was supposed to be tan but looked dark brown because of the dirt, and his hair was thick with the same dirt. Alanar was going to ignore the boy, but then the boy said, “Do you want me to take your horse to the stables?”
Alanar looked at the boy. “I’d rather do it myself, he knows me.” He walked to the stables, leading Levitas. The boy followed. Alanar ignored the boy as he took off the saddle and reins. He hung the reins and saddle outside the stall door and was about to go and get a brush when the boy asked, “Do you want me to get a brush for you?”
The knight looked at him, and raised an eyebrow, “Please.” The boy ran off to the tack room. He came back moments later with a brush, a comb, and a hoof pick. Alanar thanked him then went to work brushes the brown horse. When he was done he handed the tool back to the boy and thanked him once more. The boy sped away. Alanar rolled his eyes as he gaze the steed new food, and water. He knew that the servants mucked out the stalls but, Alanar did anyway.
When he was done looking after his horse, Alanar turned to the boy and asked, “Who are you?” The knight leaned against Levitas’ stall door and gazed at the boy.
“Ronith Iryn, sir,” replied the boy.
Alanar was taken aback. This was Ronith? Well apparently it was. Alanar had been wrong, the boy wasn’t loud, nor was he annoying. But he was so young. It didn’t seem right that a boy of twelve would be traveling with a knight on a perilous quest. The knight would have brought it to Thrain’s notice if the king wasn’t already mad at him. Doing such a thing might enrage the king even more. Alanar replied, “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ronith. My name is Alanar.” Not waiting for the boy to reply Alanar went on, “Now hurry along and pack, we leave at sun-high.”
Chapter One
At sun-high Alanar met Ronith at the drawbridge. The young knight-to-be was bursting with excitement, and Alanar was beginning to think that the boy was going to be loud and annoying. It was Will, and not Thrain who came to see Alanar off. The younger knight said, “Good luck, my friend, I hope I see you again, some day.”
Alanar dipped his head, hoping the same thing. Then he looked back at the large castle, took a deep breath, and spurred his horse forward. With a cloud of despair, thickening with ever step his horse took, Alanar was beginning to wish he was not riding away with Ronith at his side.
The boy seemed to sense Alanar’s despair because he said, “Lord Alanar, are you alright? You look a little down.” Ronith’s voice was sincere and Alanar had to smile. He looked to the boy, who was regarding him with questioning eyes, and said:
“I haven’t been past the boarders of Tretara since my,” he thought for a moment, “friend, Kara, died.”
Ronith’s eyebrows soared, “Was this girl more then a friend?” Alanar’s head whipped to face the boy, who was grinning broadly.
Alanar made a face and said, “Since you asked, yes. Yes she was.”
Ronith laughed. His laugh was bright and happy. His eyes were shining, when he looked back to the knight. Alanar just rolled his eyes, which made the boy laugh again.
Alanar let his companion laugh, not really caring what the boy did, as long as he didn’t get himself killed. The knight had to admit that he was beginning to like the boy. Yes, he was loud, and could be a little annoying, but he was just that sort of person you liked no matter how annoying he or she was.
They rode in silence for the rest of the day.
When night fell upon them, the knight and the boy were sitting in front of a crackling fire. Fireflies danced around in the trees surrounding them and the horses light hooves could be heard as the two steeds pranced about. A soft rasp filled the air as Alanar sharpened his sword blade, while Ronith lay on his back looking at the stars.
“How far away do you think they are?” wondered the boy, his eyes never leaving the sky above them.
Alanar stopped sharpening and looked at the boy, bewildered. “How far away to I think what are?” he asked, for he hadn’t noticed Ronith’s gaze on the sky.
Ronith lifted his head and looked at the knight. He said, “The stars, how far away do you think they are?” His eyes were full of question, and were intently on Alanar.
The knight of Tretara sighed and put the sword and sharpener done. “I don’t know, many, many miles away I’d suppose.” He wasn’t really sure, and just gave the boy the most reasonable answer he could think of.
Ronith sighed too. He was about to reply when a stick cracked somewhere in the woods close by. Alanar stood slowly, his sword held in a defensive stance in front of him. Ronith opened his mouth to speak, but Alanar put a finger to his lips, gesturing to Ronith to be quiet. The boy shut his mouth.
Then a shadowy shape came out of the shadows of the trees, its green eyes seeming to glow in the faint light. The creature stepped out into the firelight and the two Tretarians could see that it was a dusty beige colored wolf. Its paws were white, and so was its muzzle. But its eyes were what entranced both the boy and knight. The wolf’s unique eyes flickered from Ronith, then to Alanar.
“Who are you?” asked Alanar. Then a memory came to him he questioned, “Quiro?”
The wolf pricked its ears and said, “You know my brother?”
Ronith’s eyes grew wide; obviously he hadn’t seen a talking wolf before.
Alanar replied, “Uh, yes. But you aren’t him?”
“No,” replied the dusty wolf. “I am Frojer.”
Ronith walked forward and ran his hand through the wolf’s wiring fur, with a grin forming on his lips. The wolf leaned in and licked Ronith’s hand, the boy laughed. “Can he come with us?”
Alanar shrugged, “If he wishes.”
Frojer looked to Ronith, “Young boy, to where do you travel?”
Ronith said, “We are going to the Field of Fire, to destroy the Ever-Burning fire.”
The wolf looked taken aback, “But why? You are so young….Did you, strong knight, demand he come with you?”
Ronith answered for Alanar, “No, no, it was not Alanar who told me to go, it was King Thrain of Tretara.”
Frojer’s gaze left Ronith to go the knight, “Ah, the son of Ivan Tretara. You are a legend among my kind. Stories are told of your bravery and healing powers.”
Alanar’s blood ran cold. He’d never known his father’s other name, now the wolf had spoken it. He stuttered, “My father was related to Brain Tretara, the first king of the kingdom?”
Frojer didn’t even looked shocked, “Your father was Brain’s brother’s son’s son. You, my friend, are the rightful king of Tretara. Thrain left your father in the Caves so that he could become king and Tretara’s reign would end.”
Alanar looked at the wolf, “You were there? You were there when Thrain left my father?” His hopes soared; he was going to learn the true story of his father’s death.
Frojer nodded and began his story, “It was nearly nightfall when the two knights reached the Caves. I, having been the guardian of the Caves, watched them as they entered torches ablaze. It was Ivan who spoke first, ‘Thrain, don’t you think we should wait until morning?’ They were wise words, and anyone sane would have agreed, but Thrain only shook his head, his eyes looking mischievous in the dim light of his torch, saying, ‘No, not at all, my friend, the Walers are more active at night.’ And that was the exact reason they should have waited until morning. They entered the main chamber, oblivious to me following them. Again Ivan spoke, ‘Thrain we should really turn around and wait until sun-high.’ Just as the words were out of his mouth the arrows started to rain down on them. One was heading right toward Thrain, and I watched, helpless, as the knight grabbed your father’s shoulders and shoved him in front of himself. Your father was struck with the arrow, and Thrain ran. I ran after him, and managed to get a hold on his leg. But the knight wanted to get out and was prepared to kill me, which was when I let go, not wanting Thrain to find out who I was. When he had left I ran back to your father. When he saw me he thought I was my brother. But I told him who I was and he said, ‘Frojer, I want you to protect my son, his name is Alanar. I want you to tell him who I was and the true story of what happened down here, the story that Thrain is likely to twist around.’ I agreed to what he asked, I lay by him, protecting him from the Walers as he drew his last breaths.”
Alanar felt a lump rise in his throat as he thought of his father’s horrid death. How could Thrain do such a thing just for power? He swallowed the rising lump as he sank to the ground, his legs unable to hold him any longer. He looked up at the wolf, his eyes blazing with anger, “Thrain shall die for what he did to my father.”
Frojer said, “Calm yourself, brave knight. In time you will get the revenge you seek, but not now. Now you must rest, for tomorrow you ride toward the Caves of Darr.”
Alanar realized then, how exhausted he was. He said, “I need to keep watch though.”
The wolf shook his head, “I will watch the campsite do not worry.”
Ronith lay his head down on his saddle bag and pulled his cloak around him. Alanar did the same, instantly falling asleep.
In the morning of the fallowing day, after a eating a light breakfast of rabbit, Alanar and Ronith continued their journey to the Western Isles, Frojer striding along with them.
The two horses, Kalgara and Levitas, stood side by side as their riders gazed down at the caves below them. Frojer stretched and yawned, “Well we don’t have all day, what are you two waiting for?”
Alanar made a face at the wolf and yawned. “We’re still recovering from being woken up at the crack of dawn.” Before the wolf could reply Alanar gave Levitas a slight kick and the horse trotted down the hill, Ronith’s horse, Kalgara, following with Frojer.
The caves loomed in front of them, the darkness threatening to swallow them up. The caves were old, as Thrain had said. It seemed like anything could bring the caves crashing down. The thought was even more frightening when they heard a rock hit the stone ground.
“We’re going in there?” said Ronith in disbelief. He eyes were locked on the entrance to the Caves of Darr. They were wide with fear and horror. Then he looked toward Alanar.
Alanar only nodded, also dreading what they had to do. As much as he wanted to get this quest over with as soon as possible he would have liked to take the long way, around the perimeter of the caves, but that would take an extra day, and in this mission time was vital.
The wolf at Ronith’s side, Frojer, commented, “If that place collapses, well I don’t want to be inside.” He spoke the obvious.
Alanar walked his horse forward, having dismounted, and into the caves. Ronith dismounted and followed, the pack horse and Frojer following closely behind.
Darkness swallowed them up and they were in complete darkness for the moments before Alanar got the torch to light. He held it high over his head as he gazed around the eerie tunnels before them. His gaze lingered on the wolf, “Well, you were the guardian, get us out of here.”
“My pleasure,” said the wolf, trotting forward, his tail swishing. Without hesitation Frojer turned to the right and went on forward, Alanar and Ronith had no other choice then to follow.
Soon enough they got to the main chamber. Frojer picked up his pace, saying, “Walers are close I can feel them.” And sure enough, moments after those words left his mouth torches were ablaze around them and close to a hundred Walers lifted their bows, arrows already strung.
“Run!” barked Frojer, leaping forward.
Alanar threw his dimly lit torch to the ground and pulled out his own bow. He strung an arrow and shut at the Walers. He’d shot about ten when he felt searing pain in his right side. Alanar cried out in pain, without realizing it. His hands lost their grip on the bow and he felt instantly weak. His legs couldn’t hold him, so he fell to the ground. He heard Ronith’s voice, but it sounded far off. The world spun and his eyes came in and out of focus. Then suddenly darkness invaded his vision and Alanar was unconscious before his head hit the ground.
Ronith whipped around when he heard Alanar’s cry of pain. He yelled out, “Alanar!” his voice almost being lost in the angry screams of the Walers. He ran to his friend’s side as the knight hit the ground, unconscious. “Levitas!” called the young boy and the horse trotted to his side. With a lot of difficulty Ronith got Alanar onto Levitas and smack the horse’s butt.
The brown stallion reared and bolted off toward Darr’s exit, followed closely by the pack horse and Kalgara.
Ronith was about to follow when Frojer tripped. The boy was horrified when he saw the two arrows pointing out of the wolf’s side. “Frojer!” the apprentice-knight yelped.
“Go!” cried the wolf. “Get out of here, our paths will cross again.” When Ronith hesitated, Frojer said, “Trust me!”
Ronith sighed and reluctantly ran toward the exit, dodging arrows all the way.
Chapter Two
It was the sun that woke him, and the searing pain that was killing his side. The knight wasn’t really sure what had happened. All he knew was that he was laying on his back on the grass, with the sun beating down on him. He looked next to him, and saw the bow made of rowan bark, with arrows tipped with phoenix feathers. After a moment of staring at it, Alanar remembered everything. He looked down at his side, the wound was seeping blood, but was nicely dressed. Alanar was pleased and wondered who could have done such a good job.
He looked up and saw the young knight-to-be, Ronith sitting alone on a large boulder. The wolf, Frojer, was no where to been seen. The knight spoke, “Ronith, where is Frojer?”
Ronith looked back, his eyes red with tears. He jumped to his feet when he saw Alanar’s gaze on him. He ran over and threw his arms around the knight. Alanar was surprised, but ended up hugging the boy back. When Ronith broke away he looked at the ground, “Frojer’s dead.”
To Ronith’s rage and disappointment, Alanar laughed. Ronith retorted, “It is not funny!” His glare burned into Alanar, his anger rolling off him in great waves.
“Excuse me, but I had to. Ronith, Frojer is not dead, he’s an immortal wolf.”
“How can you tell?”
“His eyes, didn’t you see how strangely colored they were?”
Ronith nodded thoughtfully and said, “But he was shot and he was hurt by the arrows.”
“Immortals are not immune to pain, my friend, they still feel it but their wounds heal within a matter of moments,” replied the knight, quoting what Quiro had told him years ago.
Ronith walked a few paces and turned, so his back was to Alanar. “I’d like to go back in and find Frojer, but I can’t allow you to go back in the way you are.”
Alanar came to his feet, with a wince, and walked to his friend’s side. “Frojer will be fine, trust me.”
Ronith nodded, but Alanar got the sense that his companion didn’t really believe that. Alanar sighed and bent to pick up his bow and quiver. His face twisted in pain and he straightened quickly. The pain ebbed away and he leaned over and grabbed his weapons before the pain could strike him again. He straightened again, and with a little pain, walked over to Levitas. He swung his leg over and pulled himself onto the horse, his face showing the pain he felt.
Ronith swung onto Kalgara, the sword on his belt clanging against his leg as he did so. The boy asked, “So now how are we going to get to the Western Isles without Frojer?”
Alanar sighed, “We’ll just have to try to follow Train’s map.” As he said the king’s name Alanar was filled with hate and anger. One of these days he’d go to Tretara and tell the king what he knew, and then his father’s killer would pay.
Ronith looked at Alanar and said, “I sense anger in your voice, it is toward the king, is it not?” when Alanar didn’t protest, Ronith went on, “Your anger is toward one more powerful then you, but yet that seems to have no meaning to you. Is that all you care about, revenge? I know it is hard for you to take, but you must think before you ride out to battle. My father would always tell me, ‘live today, fight tomorrow.’”
Alanar’s voice was quiet, “Then your father is a wise man, and it would do you good to listen to his words.” He paused, “Those words are wise for one so young, and you speak well beyond your age, my fried.” The corner of his mouth turned up, and Alanar gave the boy a small smile.
Ronith returned the smile. Then the boy gave his horse a slight kick to get it to move forward. Soon his black horse was trotting steadily, with Alanar on his brown steed beside him. The two friends, Alanar Tretara and Ronith Night, trotted their horses toward the Western Isles.
After hours of riding the sun finally began to set and Alanar and Ronith stopped for the night. After taking care of the horses the two sat by the fire, letting the flames warm them. They sat in silence, Ronith leafing through an old book, and Alanar staring into the crackling flames.
Suddenly the flames erupted and Alanar’s vision was blocked by a series of images: Thrain grabbing Ivan’s shoulders and pulling him in front of himself, Frojer jumping at Thrain, Ivan’s death, Frojer laying next to Alanar’s father, and then Alanar himself with Kara fighting the Walers, Kara’s death, he, Ronith, and Frojer running from the Walers, himself being hit with the arrow, Frojer falling - then he was being shook by Ronith. Alanar was on his back, he had fallen off the log, and Ronith was kneeling beside him, a look of concern on his face.
“Alanar, are you alright?” The boy’s voice was as thick with concern as his eyes were. There was also fear in the twelve year-old boy’s eyes.
Alanar swallowed, “What happened?” He sat up; his head feeling like it’d been kicked by a horse about fifty times.
Ronith frowned, uneasily, “You were just sitting there and all of a sudden you fell off the log and were withering in pain, it seemed. I should be the one asking you what happened.”
“I don’t know what happened,” stated the knight. When he received a blank look from Ronith he tried to explain, “I saw Thrain kill my father, Frojer jump at him, my father’s death and Frojer lying beside him. I saw you and I running through the caves with Frojer, I saw myself injured. I saw Kara and me fighting the Walers, and her death.”
Ronith’s eyebrows were rising, and he was looking at Alanar like he was crazy.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Alanar said, “I’m just telling you what happened!” When Ronith’s expression didn’t change Alanar looked away with a heavy sigh.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t really know if I believe or not. And that I don’t know how you can see all that from staring into a fire. It’s just….strange,” said Ronith in a soft voice.
Alanar recalled Will’s words, and was starting to think that the younger knight was right, We all know that you aren’t normal, now you need to find it out for yourself! The words echoed in his head and he looked at the ground, thinking of what could possibly be wrong with him. He just wanted to be normal. But now he knew that he was far from that.
Ronith sighed and looked away. He didn’t know the words to say, although he wanted to say something, anything. He thought of what would make Alanar feel better. He thought of Kara, and said, “Kara wouldn’t care about this you know, I don’t care either.”
Alanar looked at him and a soft smile came to the knight’s grim face. Although the smile was sincere in didn’t reach the knight’s emerald eyes, they were still grave, and staring away into the night. At that moment Alanar wasn’t really there, his mind was somewhere else.
Again the boy sighed. He knew that Alanar disliked being like this, but Ronith didn’t know what to say because he didn’t know how his friend felt.
He had always felt cut off from everyone else, but now Alanar felt so far away, so nonhuman that it was almost unbearable. He closed his eyes and wished with all his heart that this was just a dream. But inside he knew that this was real and it was just as Will said, Alanar wasn’t normal, and he had to realize it. He’d always none he was different from the others, his natural gift of healing, and his strength when sword fighting, but he was just figuring out how different he really was.
What he’d seen in the fire made little sense to him. He was living things he’d already lived. He was being reminded of the things that hurt him, either physically or emotionally. From the death of his father, to Kara’s death, then to his own injury and to Frojer’s, he relived moments in his live he’d rather forget about. But now there was something other then sadness making those memories cling to Alanar. Something that the knight guessed had to do with the Ever-Burning fire.
Alanar put his head in his hand and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It was a jumbled mess inside his head. There was too much for him to take in. He sighed and laid back. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. He just then realized how heavy his eyes felt. He reopened them and looked at Ronith, who should have been sitting beside him. He craned his head to the left and saw Ronith standing a little ways from the fire. The knight asked, “What are you doing?”
The boy didn’t turn, “Taking my watch.”
“Ronith, go sleep, you need the rest,” protested Alanar.
“So do you,” countered Ronith. “Get some rest and I’ll wake you at moon rise.”
Gratefully Alanar thanked the boy and laid his head back down, closing his eyes. He welcomed sleep as it swept over him.
Ronith woke Alanar at moon high, which seemed to have come too quickly. He sat up as the boy curled up next to him. Alanar took off his cloak and put it over the boy’s shoulders, and then with a yawn he staggered over to where Ronith had been standing earlier. The knight’s gaze swept through the trees around their campsite. He heard a twig crack and pulled out his sword in case of danger. A moment later a fox scurried away from the direction where the crack had come. Alanar sheathed his sword, guessing it was just the fox.
He sat down by the dieing fire and gazed into it, half thinking that images would erupt in front of his eyes again. But nothing happened and Alanar breathed a slight sigh of relief. But then great pain pulsed through his side and he nearly cried out. If he’d been standing he would have fallen to the ground for sure. He gasped as the pain grew a bit. He looked down at his wound and what he saw horrified him. The wound that had once been neatly dressed was now seeping yellow liquid and crimson blood. He knew it was infected.
The knight looked over at the sleeping Ronith, and wondered if he should tell the boy, but then though against it. He didn’t want to concern the boy. So for a moment the knight just sat there gasping in pain. But the pain would not lessen. The knight knew it should have ebbed away some time ago, but the pain would not go away.
Alanar stood up and his legs buckled. He tried again and walked unsteadily back to his post, wanting to make sure that nothing was going to happen to Ronith. But again the knight’s legs buckled and this time he tumbled down the hill and hit the ground, his breath stolen away. He lay there, getting his breath back. He was going to get up and walk back up, but he felt too weak. So he just lay there, not knowing what else to do.
Over time though, Alanar grew restless, and thought of what could happen if he didn’t get back to his post soon. So, with pain gnawing at his side, he clambered up the hill, falling to the ground when he got to the top, feeling weaker then before. Is this what dieing from poison feels like? The knight wondered, shuddering.
It was a quiet night, and Alanar was very grateful for that.
When the morning came and Ronith awoke, Alanar was sitting by the dead fire. The boy sat down next to him and asked, “Anything happen during the night?”
Again Alanar considered telling Ronith about the infection, but again decided against it. “No, nothing, it was a quiet night.” It was half the truth at least. When Ronith yawned, Alanar asked, “Did you sleep okay?”
The apprentice-knight nodded, “Yes, it was okay. So do you think we’ll reach the Western Isles today?”
Alanar thought it over and pulled out the map. They were close by a river, the Serpent River, so it looked like they had about five more miles to go. He nodded, “We might. Who knows though?” He shrugged his slightly muscular shoulders as Ronith yawned again. “Are you sure you got enough sleep?” Alanar asked his voice bewildered.
Ronith shrugged, “I thought,” another yawn, “I got enough. Sure doesn’t feel like it though.” He yawned again, and said, sleepily, “I think I’ll sleep for another hour, if that’s okay with you.” Without waiting for the knight’s reply the boy sank to the ground where he’d slept and was instantly asleep.
“Ronith?” said Alanar going over and shaking the boy’s shoulder. Ronith made no attempt to even open an eye. Alanar shook him again, “Ronith! Come on, wake up we have to get moving.”
“I’m too tired to do anything, go away,” the boy’s voice moaned.
Alanar instantly realized something was not right. A stick cracked and three knights clad in dark black armor stepped out of the trees. Alanar yelled, “Ronith, get up and run!”
The boy suddenly jumped up and saw the knights, his eyes grew wide and he cried, “No, you won’t last a minute on your own!”
“Get out of here, Ronith!” Alanar commanded.
The knights were marching forward their eyes blank, as though under some sort of spell. Then their eyes turned to a crimson color and seemed to erupt like a crackling fire. Ronith screamed in fear as the knight suddenly began to change. There was a flash and there, where the knights had once stood, stood three horrible grey dragons clad in the same black armor.
“Run!” yelled Alanar leaping upon Levitas, ignoring the pain. Ronith leaped onto the back of his horse and then without further hesitation the two Tretarians fled the campsite, pushing their steeds as fast as they could go.
They burst out of the trees at top speed and raced down the hill, the horses’ hooves tearing at the grass, sending lumps into the air. The dragons’ roars filled the air as the two riders made their escape. They didn’t slow their horses until they were sure that the three dragons weren’t still near.
When Alanar finally allowed his horse to slow to a stop his side was hurting so much that it was hard for him to stand it without wincing, and Ronith looked like he was going to fall over, he was so tired.
“Are you okay?” the two asked each other in unison.
Ronith was looking expectantly at Alanar so the knight answered first, “I think that cursed arrow wound is infected.
Ronith looked at him, a little fearfully, “You’re not going to die are you?”
“No! Well at least I don’t think I will,” replied the knight.
Looking a little frightened still, Ronith said, “I’m still tired, that’s not normal is it?”
“No,” the knight shook his head, “I’m afraid not.”
Ronith’s shoulders sagged and he looked at his horse’s mane, his eyes starting to close. Alanar slapped his back, and the boy jumped slightly. “Don’t fall asleep, just try and keep your eyes open.”
Ronith looked at him, “Sorry, but it’s hard not to fall asleep.”
“Just try.”
“I can barely,” a yawn cut his words off, “keep them open.”
“If I can stay up half the night with an infected wound, then you can keep your eyes open until we get to the Western Isles.”
It was near sunset when the two riders from Tretara reached the Western Isle castle. The castle was almost as large as the one in Tretara. Only it had fewer battlements and no moat circled the fortress. Untamed ivy grew up the great stone walls. Two elf guards were stationed at the castle opening, spears in hand.
Alanar was about to ride down when suddenly the pain hit him and he felt incredibly weak. Before he knew it he was falling from his saddle. But he was unconscious before he even hit the ground.
Ronith yelled out, fully awake. He gave his horse a kick and Kalgara reared and raced down the hill. Just before he got to the drawbridge he hopped off the steed and ran to the guards, saying, “My friend is hurt! Please you must help him!”
The guard on the right’s eyes narrowed and he growled, “You are from Tretara, I’ll give you a chance to get out of her before I call enforcements.”
“No, please! My friend may be dying! He needs to be healed!” Ronith cried in agony.
“What is going on here?” came a female voice from behind the guard.
The guard turned and bowed, “My lady.” When she waved her head he straightened and said, “This boy, from Tretara, claims that his friend is dying and needs help.”
The queen’s hair was black and fell on her shoulders perfectly. Her eyes of blue glass stared at Ronith, with a firmness that only a queen could have. Around her neck was a beautiful turquoise diamond on a polished silver chain. Her dress was deep indigo blue, with lighter indigo edges. Around her waist was a chain that hung loosely, around the band was small circle turquoise diamonds, identical to the one that hung around her neck.
Her eyes burned into Ronith when she said, “Why should I care if this other Tretarian dies? That’s one less we’ll have to deal with later. Give me a good reason and I’ll think about letting you both live.”
Ronith struggled, but finally managed to blurt out, “Alanar is braver then any of the other knights! He would lay down his life for those he cares about. He wants the king of Tretara dead!”
The queen looked at Ronith her eyes narrowing, “Why would a loyal knight want his king dead? Knights should be loyal and ready to die for their king.”
Ronith said, “The king is the reason Alanar’s father, Ivan, is dead! Alanar just wants to avenge his father’s dead.”
The elf queen stared at Ronith then waved her hand, “Take him and his friend to the dungeons.” She turned and walked away.
“No!” cried Ronith as one of the guards grabbed his arms and put them behind his back. The other guard walked toward the hill where Alanar lay unconscious on the ground.
It was dark. The only light was the dim torch light seeping into the room from under the door. Ronith sat, his arms tied behind his back, staring at the door, half expecting Queen Lontra to come in and let him and Alanar go. But the door didn’t open.
When it did it was about an hour later, and Ronith, who’d been lying uncomfortably on his side struggled to sit up. His hopes of it being Lontra dashed when he saw it was one of the guards stationed at the door, carrying a food tray. He put it in front of Ronith and untied the boy’s hands. He stood and watched the boy.
“Please,” pleaded Ronith, “help Alanar. We are trying to destroy the Ever-Burning fire!”
The guard stared at him, collected the tray and left. Ronith was left to puzzle in the darkness.
Moments late though, Queen Lontra swept into the cell and said, “King Thrain Wyllyam sent out riders to destroy the Fire?”
Ronith nodded.
“Do you know how to get there?”
“No, Thrain said you’d be able to help Alanar and I get there.”
Her blue eyes stared into him then shifted to Alanar. She sighed and turned to the guard, “Take the wounded one up to the healing chambers.”
“But my lady…” the guard began to protest.
“Now, Teritus,” said the queen her eyes glaring at him.
“Yes my lady,” Teritus bowed and moved forward.
Once Alanar was safe in the healing chambers Ronith was given his own chambers to rest in. After sleeping for the rest of the day and most of the next, Ronith woke and was wide awake. After eating the food that the servants of the queen had delivered Ronith paced his room, wondering when he’d be able to see Alanar again. But all after sun-high Ronith received no news of his friend’s condition.
It was nearly night fall when Ronith got what he’d been waiting for.
When it happened Ronith was looking out the large window in his room, looking out at the village below. He was about to retire to his bed when his door opened with a slight creak. Ronith stiffened and cursed himself for leaving his sword by his bed. He was about to whip around and face the intruder when a familiar voice spoke:
“They told me I’d find you here.”
Ronith whipped around and met Alanar’s eyes. He gave a cry of joy and ran to the knight, hugging his friend tightly. Alanar hugged his friend back, and was just releasing the boy when Lontra entered the room.
The queen’s voice was soft when she said, “You’ve been through a lot, Sir Alanar you must rest before you continue on your journey to the Field of Fire.”
Alanar turned to her and bowed his head. “I thank you, my lady.”
Lontra looked at Ronith and said, “I know you miss the wolf, but you must trust that he will find you again, and not travel on a suicide mission the caves”
But that was exactly what Ronith wanted to do.
Alanar awoke in the middle of the night to see Ronith slip out the door. With a feeling of dread Alanar got to his feet, retrieved his sword, bow and quiver, and followed the boy out of the room.
Ronith’s footsteps were almost silent as he walked down the corridors, Alanar’s were silent. Ronith passed the guards, so did Alanar. The knight followed the boy to the stables. He saddled and bridled Kalgara, Alanar didn’t dare. Once Ronith was clear of the stables Alanar got Levitas out of his stall and put a bridle on him then followed Ronith, bare back.
It was only then, when they were out in the open when Alanar made himself known to the boy. He galloping up beside Ronith and said, making the boy jump, “Ronith, I know what you are trying to do, but I won’t let you do this alone and unprepared.”
Ronith brightened a little, “You mean you’ll help me find Frojer?”
“Yes,” Alanar said, “but you must come back with me and wait until morning.”
Ronith sighed, “Alright fine.”
The next morning after leaving a note for Lontra, Alanar and Ronith left the castle and headed for the caves. Surprisingly they reached the caves before night fall. Ronith ran right in. Alanar had no choice but to follow, even though his heart was telling him they should wait until morning.
Ronith’s torch lit up the tunnels, and before long they reached the main tunnel. Alanar whipped around at the sound of a rock dropping. A voice broke through the silence. “Did you not believe me when I said our paths would cross again?”
Frojer stepped forward so that the light from the torch could reach him. His green eyes burned into Ronith as he cocked his head. His pelt showed no signs that he was ever injured.
Ronith hung his head, a little ashamed. “Sorry, Frojer.”
The wolf shook his ruff, “Well you’re both here now and that is all that matters, and that we have to get out of here.”
“Not so fast,” a voice stopped them.
Alanar whipped around his eyes blazing. “You!” he snarled, his eyes burning as he glared at the king of Tretara.
“It’s time for you to meet the same end as your father, Alanar Tretara. You and your little friends,” said Thrain his voice evil.
Alanar drew his sword and stepped in front of Ronith and Frojer. His voice was dark with hate, “You’ll hurt them over my dead body.”
“So be it,” said Thrain, with an evil grin. As soon as those words were out of his mouth the Walers lit their torches and stepped out of the shadows. Instantly arrows started to rain down upon the three Tretarians and the immortal wolf.
One was speeding toward Thrain and he grabbed Alanar’s shoulders and pulled him in front of him. Alanar knew he only had seconds until the arrow killed him. So with a shot of adrenaline he thrust his elbow back into Thrain’s stomach. Thrain pitched forward and Alanar fell to the ground. Thrain straightened and the arrow hit him.
As the king fell to the ground Alanar straightened, breathing hard. A feeling of guilt came over the knight even though he had avenged his father’s death. His head hung slightly, and his shoulders slouched. His guilt was overpowering.
“If you’re done, I’d say it’s time to return,” Frojer barked running toward the exit. Ronith looked back at Alanar before running after the wolf. With guilt still clawing at him, Alanar followed.
When Alanar and Ronith returned to the castle Lontra met them there. Her eyes were glaring. “You’re both fools, you could have died, and you,” her gaze swung to Alanar, “you should still be resting!” Then the queen whipped around and walked away.
“You two always end up making royally mad, what is it with you two?” Frojer asked with a shake of his head.
Ronith said, with mock hurt, “Hey! That is not true!”
Frojer looked over his furry shoulder, “Sure it’s not.” Then the wolf grinned and walked away.
“Not to happy you brought him back now, are you?” teased Alanar.
Ronith looked at him, thinking he was serious. But then he saw the knight’s smile and slapped his friend’s arm, “Quite it!”
Alanar grinned and followed Frojer and the queen. When he reached the room he was staying in Lontra was there. Her glare silenced any questions that the knight had. She spoke, “Why did you let that boy talk you into going back to the caves. Alanar, your wound wasn’t healed. Ronith should have never allowed you to.”
Alanar ignored her question and said, “King Thrain was there and he tried to kill me, the same way he did my father.”
Lontra sighed, “He’s dead isn’t he?”
Alanar nodded.
“Now you can take your rightful place as Tretara’s king.”
“What!? No!” said Alanar taking a step back.
Lontra sighed and said, “You are Brain Tretara’s heir, you’re the rightful king. When this quest is over you must take your seat in the great hall.”
Alanar shook his head, “I will not be king for all I care Will or Ronith can take it.”
“Ronith is too young, and Will is a brilliant knight, but is a great choose for your advisor,” said the queen She stared at him for a moment then added, “Ronith, when he gets old enough, could be your best knight.”
Alanar looked away, “I don’t want to be a king I’m content just being a knight.”
Lontra’s eyes were angry and she was just opening her mouth to reply when Ronith came in and plopped onto his bed. “Sorry,” the boy apologized, “did I interrupt your conversation?”
Alanar shook his head, “No we’re done here. I was just making sure that the queen here knows that she’s going to have to lead us to the Field of Fire. We’re clear on this aren’t we, Queen Lontra?”
Lontra nodded curtly, “Of course, Sir Alanar.” Then she spun around and walked from the room.
Ronith watched her go, “What’s gotten into her?”
Alanar sighed, “I made her mad when I told her I was content being a knight, and that I didn’t want to be Tretara’s king.”
“Well, I won’t be saying anything like that to her,” said Ronith nodding thoughtfully.
Frojer grinned wolfishly as he entered the room. “Someone hit the queen’s temper, and it has to be one of you two, because no one’s in the dungeons. So, which one of you upset our hostess?” He sat down and cocked his head, with a wild grin.
Alanar gave the wolf a fake glare and said, “If you must know ‘tis I who upset the queen.”
Frojer chuckled, “And how, noble lord, did you do this?”
Ronith chimed in, “He told her that he is content being a knight and doesn’t want to be a king.”
Frojer threw back his head and howled with laughter. Ronith too was laughing and Alanar was glaring at the two of them. Frojer managed to say, in-between laughs, “Nice going, Alanar! Now she might rethink taking the three of us to the Field of Fire!”
“That is not funny!” said Alanar.
Frojer nodded, “Oh yes it is!”
Ronith snickered, looking away so Alanar wouldn’t see his smile.
Alanar sighed and glared at the two of them. Then he realized what Frojer had said, “You’re coming with us?”
The wolf stopped laughing and turned his green-eyed gaze to Alanar and said, “Of course.”
Ronith grinned joyfully.
The knight too was filled with joy for he quite enjoyed having the wolf around.
The queen of the Western Isles castle kept her word though, and about seven sun rises after the day the three companions arrived at the castle she led them away from her home and toward the Field of Fire beyond the Dragonfire Mountain.
That's all I have right now. Please comment, I'd love to hear what you all have to say!I know there are some, spelling/grammar mistakes, sorry.
Thank you for reading,
~Dragonwolf
