Delver Magic I: Sanctum's Breach - Jeff Inlo (the best motivational books .txt) 📗

members of my camp were becoming filled with a power long since vanished. Many took it as a blessing, a sign that the elves would return to their place in the land’s order. I did not look at it in such a favorable light.

“My fears truly became heightened when a very gifted youngster turned invisible at his own will. At that point, I spoke up. I declared that something was very wrong, that the only answer was that the magic long trapped in the sphere was now being released. With no surprise, my announcement created great fear. There were those that refused to believe me. They wished to believe it a blessing and not a curse. Yet, within a day, the more sensitive of my people found themselves feeling ill at ease.

“Again, I spoke up and again I was refuted. This time, however, there were others which spoke with me. Even my harshest critics could not ignore the fact that magic was again free in the air. They persisted, however, that the magic was not from the sphere. They concluded that the magic was freed from the land itself, freed by the quake.”

“But you don’t think so, do you?” Ryson asked inquisitively. Finally, he found a moment of freedom from the anguish in his mind. The chance to ask questions, to listen and learn of such things as elves and their conversations, to hear of things as foreign as Elf camps; such things invoked his delver instincts.

Lief shook his head sternly. “I did not then, and I certainly do not now. The dead has been raised. That is not a blessing. This is serious magic, magic that could only have been held by the sphere. Magic caught within the land would not hold the ability or the intention to create undead warriors. If it was not from the sphere, it would be pure and hold no such order. No, I’m afraid the magic must have been corrupted by a powerful sorcerer long ago. All of that energy was captured in the sphere.”

“It sounds as if you’re convinced,” Ryson noted. “I don’t know enough to argue the point. I know what I’ve seen and it does defy all sanity. You’re obviously out in the forest for a reason, I assume to help support your theory. That being the case, what is it you want to do?”

“We must travel to Sanctum Mountain. We must learn what we can.”

Ryson contemplated the proposal. His face revealed slight hesitancy.

“What troubles you, delver?” Lief asked.

Ryson grimaced. “I must admit that I’m not just following the quake for myself. I promised Reader Matthew I would include him on what I found. If I agree to go with you to Sanctum, it means I’m giving up. I’d rather not do that.”

“Who is this Reader Matthew?” Lief requested, perturbed by the thought that something might detract from him obtaining the help of the delver.

“I guess you would call him the spiritual leader for the Church of Godson at Connel,” Ryson responded simply.

Surprise filled the elf. He reared his head back as he could not refrain from blurting out a hasty question. “A reader of Godson is concerned about the quake? Did he tell you why?”

“He did. He spoke of the prophesies of Godson. Apparently, they were translated with great accuracy for them by some interpreter. But this tremor wasn’t mentioned by the translator. Matthew found this difficult to accept. He wants to know more of the quake, where it came from and what it’s done to the land.”

“So their prophecies include nothing about the quake, either?” The fact appeared to strike Lief more personally than it should have, almost as if the translated prophecies meant as much to him as they did to Matthew and his followers.

The elf’s reaction was not lost upon the delver, and Ryson watched with greater interest as he made his simple response. “Apparently not.”

Lief shook his head in tired frustration. “Yet, another factor which now weighs upon me. How do I deal with this? Elflore says nothing about this and now I find the Book of Godson is also lacking. Fire upon the prophecies for not warning us of this. Must we face this without the slightest reference of what might be? How are we to act, what should we do?”

Ryson remained quiet for long moments. He longed to ask about elflore and how it impacted Lief’s theories. But the elf remained in deep deliberation, and Ryson let his companion weigh this new information without interruption. He would find another time to ask about such things.

The elf grimaced with uncertainty before turning his attention back to the delver. When he spoke, he said nothing of elflore or the Book of Godson.

“So, the reader wishes you to send word as to what you find. I think we can continue to accommodate that. I do not believe it will be a conflict at all. He wishes you to follow the path of the quake. If I am not mistaken, the path will lead us directly to Sanctum Mountain. I would also go as far as to guess that the reader would also be quite interested in the fate of the sphere. I believe the Book of Godson refers to the sphere and its history.”

“I’m not sure about that. While I’ve been told the legends, I’ve never received teachings direct from the book. I’m not sure which story comes from where. I would have to agree, though, that Matthew would be interested in knowing of the sphere, if indeed such a sphere exists.”

“Free yourself from your doubts, delver. I understand them, but they will only make things more difficult for you. There is a sphere and I am now quite sure that it is responsible for the happenings of the past few days. You must expect to see things you would previously never have believed possible. Very simply, the magic is free. How or why it’s free is of great concern to me. It is what we must determine. Remember the legends. Keep them in your mind, hold to them, and believe them. They will help you, and perhaps keep you from madness. They may also save your life.”

The elf paused and nodded to the decaying remains upon the ground before them. “You’ve already faced the undead today. There is no telling what else awaits us.”

Ryson looked upon the now lifeless corpse for the last time, a stark reminder of the madness he might face. He noticed the handle of his dagger protruding out of its chest. He fought off his own repugnance and bent over to retrieve it. He wiped the blade on the ground several times. He examined it carefully before returning it to his belt, making sure not the slightest stain remained.

“Speaking of such,” Ryson spoke with an edge, “what happens if we face another one of these? What do I have to do to stop it?”

“You must remember it is an undead warrior. It is no longer a living thing. It is a lifeless hulk, animated by dark magic. You can’t expect to kill it by thrusting a blade into its heart. It won’t be effective, for the heart is no longer important. It also won’t feel pain. And it won’t feel regret or remorse at attacking. There are only two ways to stop such a creature. You must remove the magic which gives it life, or inflict enough damage so that it is no longer a threat. It takes powerful spells to forcibly remove the energy, so unless you are willing to become a sorcerer, that option is not open to you. That leaves the second. That is what I did. The undead are strong, but their bodies are not very resilient. Decay will do that. If you damage the body to a point where it can no longer hurt you, the magic will leave of its own accord. When I struck the legs of the creature, it was no longer capable of movement. The energy could no longer force the corpse to attack, so it left.”

“I see. But I’m not equipped for such a battle. This knife is all I carry.”

“Then, you might consider altering that decision. Your only other option is to flee. Don’t worry about that now. We go to Sanctum Mountain together. If we face the undead, I shall dispatch it, unless they’re in great numbers.”

“Then I’ll rely upon you as well as my own senses,” Ryson acknowledged. “Hopefully, I can warn us of another such monster.”

“Warnings are always advantageous. Now let us move on. I would, though, make one request. Let us move through the trees. Passing from branch to branch, crossing the forest above the ground, it is how I travel.”

“That will slow me down,” Ryson admitted.

“I know, but it will allow me to keep pace with you. It is the quickest way for me. It is a fairly short trip to Sanctum. We might reach its base before nightfall, but if you are as gifted as the stories reveal about delvers, there is no way I can match your speed upon the ground. I have seen you move as you battled the undead; of this I’m already sure.”

“If you think it’s best.”

“It is indeed. The forest will take us to the edge of Sanctum. At that point we can examine the area and adjust our travel. For now, simply follow your instincts. Return your attention to the quake and its path. It will lead us westward and that is where I wish to go. Follow it as you see fit. I believe it will lead us to the mountain. If you sense anything else which calls for your attention, please inform me.”

“Certainly,” Ryson agreed without hesitation. Millions of questions assaulted him, questions without answers. He would not find those answers by remaining here; they waited elsewhere, perhaps within Sanctum Mountain. He could not deny what had happened to him, could not shove it into the recesses of his mind. As a delver, he needed answers, no matter how incredible. He took to the journey with no less hesitation then when he first left Connel. Without further word, the two nimble figures grasped branches overhead and disappeared into the trees.