The Twice-Enchanted Blade: Part 12

Later that day, we were sitting around the fire with Maru, the captain of the Honor Guard. He was giving us directions on how to reach the locations of our trials, but could not say anything about the trials themselves.

“Those areas are taboo to our people. This whole northern frontier has a stench of foul sorcery. It reminds us of Miriyevo, and we do not like venturing here. Were it otherwise, we would have built grand cities here centuries ago. And the locations of the trials are the worst of all. Something terrible happened here. It may have been eons ago, way before Miriyevo was even a dream, but the land has not healed yet”.

“Did you not think even once to complete the trials and claim the treasure for yourselves?” wondered Rhombus, “the Twice-Enchanted Blade is supposed to be a powerful weapon”.

Maru shook his head. “The sword is a symbol to your people, but merely a tool to mine, and one blade, no matter how strong, does not decide wars. Besides, we honor our oaths, and we owe this much to the valiant sacrifice of your ancestors”.

Civet had another question. “Assume some groups succeed in their quest, and some fail. What would you do with the incomplete set of retrieved artefacts?”

“I believe the three Guardians keep a complete set of instructions on how to reach the targets, likely along with a set of wards and spells to bypass the dangers”, Maru answered. “I am not sure, however, what would happen with whatever threats the challengers dispatched on the way. Given the magical nature of the locations, I find it likely they are intrinsically perilous and are nigh impossible to be fully cleansed of danger”.

The next order of business would be to decide how to divide our forces. It took us some time to iron out the details, but we came to a satisfactory arrangement eventually.

Annabel was deemed most suitable to tackle the swamp, as her skills would be helpful in dealing with the illusions mentioned by the guardians. Similarly, having Civet around could prove useful in the abandoned temple. Iocasta insisted on joining that team, citing her expertise in navigating the surrounding forest, and we humored her. Gandor and Rhombus were a natural team, and we assigned them to the mountain. That left Nixon and me. We decided to make the temple group the one with three members, so that there were two competent fighters in each group. There was no particular advantage Spiridon and I could bring to either group, so the decision was made somewhat randomly, and I ended up paired with Annabel while the lieutenant went with Civet and Iocasta.

This is where the story diverges. We left Orion’s Watch early in the morning two days later, bid each other farewell, and took off in three separate directions. For transport, we used rhinoceri borrowed from the Bele Wode, as we were bound to run into large stretches of rough terrain where we would have to leave our mounts behind, and the local beasts were more likely to be able to fend for themselves until our return.

Rhombus and Gandor went northeast. They were prepared for the possibility of rough terrain and colder climate at greater heights, bringing warm clothes, ample quantities of rope, and other equipment. Their journey took them through verdant grasslands, where various skitterish small herbivores ran for the hills at the mere suggestion of danger, while the megafauna – multiple species of elephant, giraffes, ceratopsid, and the magnificent baluchitherium – remained phlegmatically indifferent to anything smaller than an allosaurus. As they went further and further uphill, the weather became increasingly more pleasant. They didn’t have to travel far before their destination could be seen from a distance – the impossibly steep rock formation, protruding from the ground on its lonesome like a titanic stalagmite, its sharp peak piercing through the clouds, the Igla mountain. With their destination within sight, they continued their journey, pondering how they could scale the sheer cliffs in front of them.

Iocasta’s group, meanwhile, went northwest. There were more trees and less grazeland here, flocks of lemurs perched on acacia branches observing the travellers as they passed. Strange round creatures walked on stilt legs through the brush, feeding on pollen from oversized flowers with their long trunks. Grass eventually gave way completely to dense shrubbery, so they had to leave their mounts behind and continue on foot. It was slow going, making their way through the dense bush, but they persevered, inching slowly towards their goal. Eventually, they would reach the intimidating darkness of a tropical forest.

We finally return to Annabel and me, who were going west. It took us a while to find the first hints of a wetland. Initially, we ran into frequent ponds and small lakes, inhabited by large quantities of birds and the occasional crocodile; these aquatic predators thankfully considered our rhinoceri to be too big a prey to even consider attacking. Our first sign of things to come was a quagmire into which we carelessly stumbled, where we tragically lost one of our mounts. The poor beast, sinking ever deeper into thin mud, was struggling in vain, roaring with increasing panic and desperation. We tried our best to rescue it, but in its thrashing, it snapped the rope we were pulling it with, and Annabel’s telekinesis wasn’t powerful enough to save the day on its own. All our further efforts achieved was to postpone the inevitable, as the unfortunate creature, too exhausted to struggle anymore, all hope gone from its eyes, sank beneath the mud.

From this point on, we decided to continue carefully, on foot. Deeper into the marsh we went, in low spirits which the gloomy mist we began to enter did not alleviate. Pressing on, we wondered how we could avoid getting hopelessly lost in the fog, let alone find a particular large tree. Ghost light soon began appearing in the corners of our eyes, and with every fumbling step we got deeper and deeper into the enchanted swamp.