Chapter 10

The trio followed the pair of stag-folk through the forest, still amazed by the mystical feeling of the place and how the air almost hummed. Even coming from a life spent in the Great Forest, Osric couldn’t get over how full of life this place was.

Osric was so enamored, trying to see everything around him, that he almost walked into the gargantuan tree the stag-folk stopped in front of, jumping back a step out of fright. Its trunk was so wide that a dozen men could not have encircled it with their arms outstretched. One of the stag-folk, a woman, Osric thought, giggled at his sudden alarm at the appearance of the tree. It was an odd sound, almost a high-pitched chirp ending in kind of a snort. He didn’t know how he knew it was a giggle, except that he somehow did.

Osric shook himself from the confusing line of thought as the stag-folk led them to an opening at the base of the tree, the edges worn smooth by countless years of use. Inside, the tree was hollowed out, creating a spacious chamber. Spider silk hammocks hung from the walls, shimmering in the soft light that filtered through small gaps in the wood above them, like something soft and glowing was sitting in the gaps.

A female stag-folk, with chestnut fur and kind eyes, approached carrying two wooden bowls. She handed one to Osric and the other to Talia.

“Please, eat. You must be famished after your journey.”

Her voice was like Valen’s. Soothing and pleasant, like when someone sings a gentle lullaby.

Osric glanced down at the bowl. A strange broth swirled within, flecked with herbs he did not recognize. He brought it to his lips and took a tentative sip. Flavors burst across his tongue - savory and rich, with a hint of sweetness. It warmed him from the inside out, soothing the aches in his tired muscles.

“This is delicious,” Talia said, her words mumbled as she tried to eat and speak at the same time. “What is it?”

“Roots and herbs offered up by the forest. It is good for fueling the soul and the body. I’m told humans find it good for bringing strength to the weary and comfort to the soul.”

“‘ish good,” Talia said around more food.

Osric smiled at his friend. For someone raised by the ever-proper Elder Miriam, she’d always been a little bit of a wild child herself. Not that Osric didn’t finish his almost as fast. Setting the bowl aside, he couldn’t help but feel a little better, although it was unclear if it was some mystical quality of the food or just that he had been famished. He was full after one bowl of root and herb soup, so he was willing to lean toward the mystical.

Talia set her empty bowl down beside her, leaning back against the smooth wood of the hollowed tree and looked over to Osric. “I don’t even know what to think about all this. The Calaphium, the Veilguard, how magic really works ... it’s overwhelming.”

“I know. Everything we thought we knew ... or I guess what you knew.”

“It’s like the world’s been turned upside down. I mean, the Calaphium being guardians of magic instead of evil monsters? It’s ... it’s ... I don’t even know what to think.”

“Makes you wonder what else might not be what it seems, or what else we were told is wrong.”

“Exactly,” Talia said, snapping her fingers. “You know, Elder Miriam, she never trusted the conclave. I didn’t really give it much thought and she didn’t talk about it a lot or really say why, but I can’t help but wonder if she may have suspected the truth all along.”

“You know her better than I do. To me, it seemed like she knew everything, so it wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Not everything, but certainly more than she let on.”

“But do you really believe it? Everything the sage said? About the Calaphium, I mean.”

Talia considered the question for a moment before saying, “I don’t know. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Right. I mean, these ... things we’ve always heard about as existing before time, they were actually a real empire? With people living and breathing before our recorded history? Just because he says it’s a thing ... is it?”

“It is hard to wrap my head around,” Talia admitted. “But there’s something about this place, about the sage. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I feel like we should trust him.”

“Really? Even with all the crazy things he’s telling us?”

“Yes, even then. This place, Avendell, it’s clearly special. There’s a magic here that feels ... pure, untainted. And the sage, he doesn’t feel evil. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Talia smiled and said, “Besides, Cinder trusts him. And how bad could he be?”

As if on cue, Cinder lifted his head from where he lay on the ground between their hammocks, his tail thumping softly against the earthen floor.

Osric chuckled, reaching down to scratch behind the wolf’s ears. “You make a good point.”

They chatted for a little while, in their tree trunk room seemingly separate from the whole world, talking about how different things were, about the amazing things they’d seen and done, and about home. Neither mentioned the danger they’d been in or how afraid they’d been, as if even talking about it would bring the evil back down on them. Inviting it.

Over time, their conversation slowed, the gaps of silence extended. As Osric’s eyes drifted shut, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of safety wash over him. For the first time in days, he felt like they could truly rest, protected by the mystical embrace of Avendell and the watchful eye of their newfound allies.

The gentle sway of the hammock and the soothing sounds of the forest lulled him into a deep, dreamless sleep, his mind finally quiet.

The next morning, Osric felt better than he had in a long time, even before all of the crazy events that had happened over the last week. He loved learning from Master Ironhand, but sometimes, the mat he slept on in the back room left his back feeling sore and stiff. When this was all over, he was going to ask the sage to let him take one of these hammocks to string up instead.

To Osric’s surprise, shortly after they woke up, a human in deep brown robes collected them instead of a stag-folk, leading them to another large tree, larger than the one they’d been given to sleep in. A curtain was pulled across the entrance, but the man, who never spoke to them other than to ask them to follow him, pulled it aside, not knocking or anything.

Inside, the sage sat hunched over a table strewn with ancient tomes and scrolls. He had dark circles under his eyes and his silver-white hair looked more disheveled than the day before. He glanced up as they entered, giving them a weary smile.

“Ah, Osric, Talia, please come in. I apologize for the clutter. It’s been a long night of study and meditation.”

There were a few seats around the room, most with things on them. Osric picked up some scrolls and set them gently on the table before taking a seat.

“I have spent the night attempting to commune with the gods, seeking their guidance on these matters. As with any attempt to gain knowledge from them, the answers I received were ... difficult to understand. I was able to glean a bit more from the document itself, or at least deduce a few additional details.”

Osric leaned forward to look at the page they’d carried with them from the keep. The symbols on it still meant nothing to him, although he thought the script itself was beautiful. As much art as language.

“It appears to be written in ancient Calaphium, that much I can tell you. However, with the page torn as it is, longways, a significant portion is missing, and in such a way as to destroy the context of everything on the page. I think, perhaps, that was deliberate. The page had been protected with powerful magics, I believe, to keep it intact. Whoever ripped it might have wanted to destroy it but had to settle for just tearing it in two parts. They were smart about it, though. Had they ripped it the other way, I would at least be able to tell what the top half said.”

“So can you can translate it?” Talia asked.

“No. If it was torn the other way I could, but like this ... it’s not possible. Their language was highly context dependent. Seeing only half of sentences, missing other sentences, I lose too much context and the words don’t make a lot of sense. Without the other half, it’s impossible to tell what it said. What I can tell you is that it’s very old, likely dating back to the time near, or just before, the Reckoning.”

Talia whistled. “That old. You said they were from ... before.”

Osric knew what she was getting at. It was hard to fathom a time before Aeloria, or at least a time before the dark days before Aeloria came into being, when people lived in small tribes and struggled to survive.