The Ascent (Book 2) Read online

  “We will test your fighting skills,” Erenoth replied. “Priests of the Dragon are warriors as well as pilgrims, especially in times like these. We are the last line of defense against the enemy when the Knights are occupied. When I am satisfied that your skills are adequate, we will begin our crusade.”

  “Crusade?” Khalid asked. “I never imagined that I would ever be a crusader, or a priest.”

  “Keep in mind,” Erenoth said, “that your skills as a thief are valuable as well. Our battles ahead will require stealth, cunning, and subterfuge. All of these are necessary to perform our duties properly.”

  Khalid said nothing, but turned his mind back to the comfortable looking bed that awaited him.

  “Rest well, Khalid,” Erenoth said. “When you awaken, we will begin.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” Khalid said. “I truly look forward to learning my new path.”

  Erenoth nodded, urging him into the room. Khalid shuffled over to the bed and lowered himself onto the edge. The bed was soft yet firm, and he immediately felt relief as it cradled him. With a smile and a sigh, he spun onto his back, feeling the comforting bed encase him in its warmth.

  He was asleep within seconds.

  Farouk stood against a massive willow in the dying forest. The great tree was withered and dark, and its branches were cracked and bare. All around, the underbrush and the soil itself were desolate, brown, and lifeless. A Defiler had come this way, drawing the life from the forest with its dark magic, and now the Druid and his apprentice had come to heal the damage.

  The apprentice’s hands were spread upon the bark, and his head was lowered in sorrow. He could feel the tree’s pain, and grieved its suffering. The tree had undergone great trauma, and it was losing its will to live. Jodocus looked on, sitting upon a fallen branch, stirring the dead soil with his staff.

  “What do you feel, Farouk?” the Druid asked.

  Farouk gasped, clenching his eyelids and gritting his teeth. “I feel…pain,” he answered, struggling to breathe as the willow’s agony flowed through his body. “Pain and suffering. Not only for itself, but for the plants around it. It grieves their pain as well, and laments its inability to protect them.”

  “Yes,” Jodocus replied. “The willow feels all. As its name suggests, it weeps when the forest dies.”

  “Its pain is great,” Farouk lamented. “I can feel it as if it were my own pain.”

  “That’s called empathy, my friend,” Jodocus explained. “You feel its pain, and you grieve with it. This is how you heal it.”

  “Tell me how to end its suffering.” Farouk begged.

  “Show sympathy now,” Jodocus said. “Feel the life of the Earth and let it flow through you. Your sympathy will be the conduit. Tell the great willow that you are here to help, and it will allow you to do so.”

  “The pain is very real; excruciating,” Farouk exclaimed. “And the sorrow the tree feels is too great. It wants to die.”

  “It will change its mind,” Jodocus said, “once you take away the pain.”

  Farouk focused on drawing energy from the Earth. He could feel a tingling in his feet, telling him that he was on the right track, but the power was too weak. He struggled to concentrate, putting all other thoughts out of his mind; all worries, all of his own pain, and all of his past guilt. As he dismissed these distractions, he felt the tingling grow stronger and move slowly up his legs. He sighed with the pleasant feeling, determined to impart it to the damaged tree.

  “Very good, my friend,” Jodocus said. “Keep your focus. I can see the power flowing into your body. Take as much as you need and share it with the willow. End its pain.”

  Farouk accepted the influx of life, letting it rise into him and flow through his arms down to his fingertips. He let his sympathy for the willow be his guide, directing the life force into the withered bark, feeling it tremble beneath his fingers. The tree began to crackle, leaking sap out of the open gashes in its trunk. The branches above him became strengthened, sprouting small buds of green. The willow’s trunk faded from dead gray to brown as the life returned to its withered mass.

  Jodocus smiled, watching the tree slowly come to life once more. “You are doing it, Farouk,” he said, excitedly. “Don’t stop; give the willow what it needs to live.”

  Farouk’s expression began to relax as the tree’s agony lessened. He could feel its relief, and the pain he felt began to subside. Above, the green was spreading, each sprout growing into long, supple branches. Leaves sprouted from the ends, slowly elongating into a willow’s typical, weeping canopy.

  When the willow was fully healed, Farouk slowly took his hands off of the trunk, backing away to admire its beauty. He smiled as he saw his handiwork. He had saved the tree, successfully passing his first trial as a Druid. He had never felt more proud in his life. Nor had he ever thought his love for nature could be so strong.

  “Excellent work, my apprentice!” Jodocus exclaimed. “The willow thrives again, and is no longer in pain. You have done well.”

  The Druid stood, placing a hand on Farouk’s shoulder in encouragement. He, too, was proud of Farouk’s work, and was happy to see that his apprentice had succeeded without any help. The man was a natural. He was truly born to be a Druid.

  “You have earned a new power, Farouk.” Jodocus said. “The Dragon is proud, and so is The Great Mother. You can now heal trees and smaller plants on your own. You are on your way to becoming a great Druid. I am very proud of you.”

  “I owe it all to you, Jodocus,” Farouk said. “And the Dragon.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” Jodocus warned. “This was your doing. Your ability to summon the powers of the Earth is extraordinary. Better than any man I’ve ever known.”

  Farouk accepted the compliment, simply nodding his head and returning to admire the willow. As he watched, three small branches suddenly began to move together. They twisted themselves around each other, slowly growing together as they did. The braid continued for a full six feet, tightening and twisting to a strong, supple shaft.

  “What is happening?” Farouk asked.

  Jodocus smiled, knowing what was coming. “The willow is preparing a gift for you,” he said. “Wait and see.”

  The twisting continued. As the two watched, the three branches were melding into one single, straight, sturdy staff, complete with a formidable-looking knot of branches and thorns at its end. When the willow had finished, the staff broke off and fell to the ground, its point sticking into the newly-revived soil at Farouk’s feet.

  He reached out to take the staff, pulling it gently from the forest floor and admiring its craftsmanship.

  “It’s beautiful,” he exclaimed.

  “It is your staff,” Jodocus explained. “Given to you by the willow of its own free will. That is quite a gift.”

  “What is its purpose?” Farouk asked.

  “It is simply a conduit for your power,” Jodocus said. “It will aid in summoning the Earth’s energy and imparting it where it needs to go. You see, to another man, it is just a stick. But to a Druid, it is a tool that helps focus his power, much like a seer or wizard’s staff. You will find that it becomes a part of you, and you will never travel anywhere without it. And remember, my friend, the right staff is given, not taken. My staff was given to me by a great oak many, many thou...years ago. The willow was kind enough to give you your first staff, and it is beautiful, indeed. Honor that gift, always.”

  Farouk smiled, proudly holding the staff at his side. “I will cherish it forever,” he said, “as a gift from my friend, the willow.”

  “Good, good,” Jodocus replied. “Such a gift is a rarity. Never take it for granted. As your power grows, so, too, will the power of your staff. It may change over time, as mine has, and will reform itself according to its primary use.”

  Farouk nodded. “I will test it on the surrounding plants,” he said. “Our work is not complete.”

  “Very well,” Jodocus said. “Finish.”

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nbsp; Farouk walked to the center of the clearing, looking down at the brown and withered underbrush that lay around him. He placed his staff before him, anchoring it firmly in the ground, and closed his eyes. He called to the Earth, focusing on drawing its life up into his body. The energy built up slowly, charging and warming him as he concentrated. He could feel the power course through his body, swirling within him as it was directed through his arms and into his hands. He released it into the staff, allowing it to enter its length fully. When he felt he had charged the staff sufficiently, he opened his eyes and released the energy into the ground.

  Slowly, the plants around him began to shudder. Their leaves faded from brown to green, uncurling and shifting their surfaces into the rays of sunlight that filtered in through the canopy above. New plants sprouted as well, reaching up into the life giving sun, and spreading their roots deep within the resurrected soil. Several small animals that had been lying dead among the brush stirred and then pounced to their feet, bounding off into the woods. A few moments later, the underbrush had been restored, and the clearing was green once more.

  “Very good, Farouk,” Jodocus said. “The forest has been repaired. Your efforts will not go unnoticed. All of the wildlife of the forest is under your protection, and it will repay you in kind. When you need protection, the forest will be your guardian. I learned over my years that it is a symbiotic relationship. Every bit of life you return to the forest will be reciprocated in one form or another.”

  “I feel connected to the forest already,” Farouk said. “It is a kinship like none other I have ever felt.”

  “That is common,” Jodocus explained. “When your power grows to encompass the land itself, that feeling will be a hundredfold. Communing with the land itself is a much more rewarding experience, and much more intense. But, I’m used to it. You will grow accustomed to it as well.”

  Farouk was about to speak, but Jodocus suddenly looked to the side, his brow furrowing in concern.

  “Do you feel that, Farouk?” Jodocus asked.

  Farouk looked around, then to the ground, opening his mind to the surrounding forest. He felt a minor sense of negativity, as if something was approaching from a distance. Something dark and evil.

  “I feel it,” he replied. “I don’t what it is, but I feel its darkness.”

  “Yes,” Jodocus said. “Perhaps it is time to use your new gift. Hide, my friend.”

  Farouk dashed to the underbrush, crouching as low as he could and willing the Dryad’s gift into action. Jodocus watched as Farouk faded into the greenery around him. He smiled proudly and took a concealed position among the brush on the other side of the path. He, too, faded into the greenery.

  The Druid and his apprentice remained crouched, concealed in their hiding places, and waited. After several minutes, the sound of unearthly hissing echoed through the woods. Something dark was approaching the clearing, and both of them could feel its aura. It was a feeling of disparity, anguish, and hate. One that unsettled even the Druid himself.

  It was a familiar feeling to him, one that he had experienced in the past. But he had long since vanquished creatures like this from Eirenoch, and was at a loss to explain the presence of something so similar and evil. It was not a Defiler, he knew, nor a demon. It was something that had once been human, but now roamed the Earth in only spirit form.

  Wraith.

  The Druid took hold of his staff, focusing his power into a single point at its tip. He would blast the wraith with his power when it appeared, hoping it was enough to banish the entity forever.

  Farouk saw it first, watching as its blackness floated into the clearing. It was a mass of shimmering darkness, vaguely man shaped, and surrounded by an aura that frightened and repulsed the apprentice. The creature moved to the center of the clearing, spreading its mass to absorb the life energy that surrounded it. Farouk could feel the trees and plants around him shudder, as if they, too, were afraid.

  Suddenly, Jodocus materialized within his hiding place and boldly stood in the creature’s path. His staff was raised in defiance, and his teeth were bared in anger. His robes billowed with the power of the Dragon, and his eyes glowed with energy.

  He spoke in the Dragon’s tongue, cursing the entity. “Begone, foul spirit!” he growled, aiming his staff at the mass of darkness.

  A flash of green light appeared at the end of his staff and streaked toward the entity, exploding on impact. The dark mass screeched in agony; its black, ethereal tendrils moving around sporadically. Jodocus stepped forward, waving his staff before him. With each pass, the staff sparked bolts of green energy into the spirit’s depths, dissolving it gradually.

  “Back to the depths of Hell!” Jodocus shouted. “Begone with you!”

  Farouk looked to his staff, which seemed to be gathering energy on its own. Without hesitation, he took it up and stood, rushing to stand next to his mentor. As he watched Jodocus continue to dissolve the creature, Farouk raised his own staff, willing the gathered power into a bolt of energy that streaked toward the beast. It shattered the spirit’s form, sending it back from the center of the clearing. It screeched again, swirling faster, trying to regain its cohesiveness.

  Jodocus blasted it again, this time sending an invisible whirlwind into the creature’s center. The spell swirled within it, sucking its dark energy into the vortex. It slowly shrank in size as it mass was absorbed, screeching and sending out tendrils of darkness toward the Druids. Then, with a flash of blue, the ball of darkness exploded, sending the two back a few steps with the impact. They watched as the darkness gradually spread out and dissolved.

  The wraith had been destroyed.

  Farouk stood frozen, still frightened and unsure. He had never experienced anything like this before, having only fought with men in his years as a warrior. Battling an entity like this was a completely new experience.

  “Well,” Jodocus said. “That’s that.”

  Farouk caught his breath, looking to the Druid in amazement. “What was that creature?” he asked.

  “That,” Jodocus replied, “was a wraith. A malevolent spirit. Why it was here, I don’t know. I had banished them many years ago, driving them away from the barrows and tombs they inhabited. This one may have wandered here from across the sea, or the sea itself. There are dead men there, too.”

  “A wraith is the spirit of a villainous man?” Farouk asked.

  “Precisely,” Jodocus replied. “Seeing this one makes me wonder if The Lifegiver is influencing the dead on this island. Waking their souls and enslaving them to do his bidding.”

  “The Lifegiver has created strange creatures before,” Farouk said. “And he has brought the dead to life on many occasions.”

  “That is disturbing,” Jodocus said, his face a mask of worry. “If he can raise the dead from this distance, then who knows what else he can do? We must keep vigilant, Farouk. Our task has just become much more complex.”

  “I am with you, Jodocus,” Farouk replied.

  Jodocus smiled, knowing that Farouk was truly willing to stand by his side. But he wondered if the two of them would be enough to undo all of The Lifegiver’s destruction. It would be difficult and dangerous, but he had no choice. He was created to maintain the balance, and that was what he would do.

  “Come, my friend,” Jodocus said. “We will return to my tower. I must do some research into this matter, and commune with the Dragon. We need to find some answers before we can proceed.”

  Chapter Four

  The sky had darkened to a pleasant, starlit evening as the Knights reached Bray. Eamon had commanded the Knights to tether their horses to the nearby trees, and they all lay quietly along a ridge overlooking the coastal town. It was quiet, with only a minor amount of activity along its docks. The town itself was built right on the coast, with most of the buildings and houses resting upon stilts and connected with a network of planked, suspended walkways.

  As the Knights scanned the town, they saw only a few scattered Jindala guards patrol
ling the walkways, and one of their own vessels moored in the distance. Many small boats were docked, but empty, and most of the town’s own fishing vessels had been commandeered and occupied by enemy sailors.

  Bray was now under Jindala control. The Knights had to come up with a plan to retake it without endangering the townsfolk. As the Jindala were spread out and unaware of their presence, stealth seemed the best option. They would have to sneak into the city and take out the guards one by one. Arrows were out of the question. Even if the three archers among them were able to hit the guards from this distance, their bodies would fall into the water, alerting any others nearby.

  “We’ll need to infiltrate the town without raising the alarm,” Eamon stated. “Any ideas?”

  “My armor has the power of shadow,” Daryth reminded him. “I can take out the nearest guard by the shack to the right and signal when the way is clear.”

  “Do it,” Eamon said. “And be careful. Hide his body in the salt marsh.”

  Daryth nodded, putting away his bow and drawing his dagger. He pulled up his hood and bounded over the ridge silently. As he entered the shadows, he faded from sight, his armor blending in with the darkness.

  “I can barely see him,” Angen said, squinting into the darkness. “He’s just a shadow.”

  “The power of the Dragon armor,” Eamon reminded him, “is different for everyone.”

  Daryth snuck down the hill into the swampy ground below. He remained in a crouching position, treading carefully through the muck to stay silent. His target stood on a ledge attached to the shack, facing away and swaying slowly with fatigue. Daryth approached from behind, his dagger in his teeth. He reached the edge of the dock, gripping the ledge and silently pulling himself onto it behind the guard. When his feet were firmly upon the planks, he gripped his dagger and crept up behind the guard, ready to strike.

  Reaching around from behind, Daryth grasped the guard’s head, covering his mouth, and plunged his dagger into his back. The guard slumped to the walkway, Daryth easing him down to lessen the impact. He dragged the guard backward, sliding quietly off the ledge, bringing the guard down with him. He turned to the Knights as they watched and gave a thumbs up to signal that the way was clear, and then dragged the guard to the rear of the shack.