JourneyThe night was cold, their sleep fitful and restless. Dreams dominated by monsters and ghosts made no joy of what little sleep was to be had. As dawn broke the seven youths stirred, slowly stretching frozen limbs. Allan and Ola hand not wanted to take the journey, which surprised Jula. She had thought Nadia would have been the one to shy away.
Standing up, unsteadily at first, Jula looked about. They were deep in the foothills that preceded their mountain destination. The path was well travelled, but those who did never returned by it. At least, not as mere mortals.
Her gaze turned from the rolling green hills below them to the forest covered slopes above. Somewhere in there lay the Hall of victors, the fortress of the Spectral Knights. A knight had come to the village many years ago, to rest from his injuries. He wore strange armour of a deep blue, his shoulder emblazoned with the sacred winged thunderbolt. On his helm were the colours of The Emperor – the multitude shades that combined to a single, pure, light. He had seemed like a giant next to the village’s blacksmith, a being beyond reality. But without his armour he was still a man. She remembered her parents telling her that he was Mr Lusow’s uncle, and that he looked younger due to the Emperor giving him some of His own strength to fight.
It was from then that she wanted to know everything about the Knights, their tales of heroism, their names, their heritage, how she could become one...
The road was hard with little cover from the harsh winds blowing in from the Southlands, but once they entered into the great mountain forest the encroaching winter would be staved off.
The others were readying themselves to continue the march onwards, Cable strapping his long knife around his waist, Marco slipping an axe into his belt. Jula had a dagger at her hip, her father’s parting gift to her. There were few bandits near, and even fewer who would risk attacking people on the Rainbow Path. There were wild predators however, who knew no distinction.
The sun was cresting the far off hills to the west, golden rays of daylight piercing the fog in the valleys below. Squinting into the glare Jula held out a small triangular crystal in front of her eyes. The glow hit the crystal and cast a rainbow across her features, the warm light dancing as the sun rose higher. She smiled, imagining the glory of wearing the sacred Rainbow on her own helm one day.
“You coming?”
Snapping from her daydream Jula turned and hurried after the others. Marco was standing on a rough outcropping, looking down at her and laughing.
“You can daydream later – we’ve still got to get there you know.”
“Yes yes. How much further do you think it is?”
Marco jumped down beside her, his pack clanking as he landed.
“They said it should be two days after we reach the forest, which should be today.”
Frowning, she tucked her thumbs into her pack’s shoulder straps.
“This is taking too long.”
“You can walk all night and be too tired for the trials if you want. I’m going to rest up while I can.”
“I don’t need the rest – I’ve been waiting my whole life for this, I’m ready.”
“You really think you are?”
Cable had turned around and was looking at her scornfully.
“You think I’m not?”
“Do you know what they’ll do to us? We’ll have to fight wild beasts with just our hands, lift stones the size of a grozan, run for leagues and survive walking through fire. There’s no way you’ll make it.”
“What’d you know, have you been to the Hall of Victors before?” she shot back.
“You’re too old, and too scrawny – they probably just want you to be their serving maid!”
Jula bristled at the thought of being considered unworthy, her fists bunched and face ruddy. Marco half stepped in front of her to stop her leaping at the young man.
“What’s your problem Cab? You’re being an idiot.”
“Shut up Marco, you too were always so buddy buddy – why don’t you turn around and get married already?”
Marco went to reply but his words were cut short by the crash of Jula’s pack. She dropped it to the ground and lunged past, screaming incoherently. Cable threw his arms up and took her charge, stumbling under the weight of the impact. Jula swung her fists, as did her opponent, though neither had any skill or idea what to do. After a flurry of mostly ineffectual blows Jula stepping in close, using her height to get the boy in a headlock. He threw his arms around her waist, trying to pull her over, their feet kicking up dust as they struggled. The other travellers stood in a circle, unsure and unwilling to intervene.
Grunting, he punched her in the ribs and she felt a crack followed by a stabbing pain in her left side. Wincing she tightened her grip and brought her knee into Cable’s face with a satisfying crunch. His grip slackened and she took the opportunity to shove the boy down the hill, sending him rolling through the dirt path and onto the grass. He continued sliding down the hill before coming to a rest some distance down the slope.
Jula stood at the edge of the rise and yelled down at him.
“You go back home! When you’re old and grey you’ll see my runes carved in honour on the bell tower’s wall! Jula West, knight of the Emperor!”
Cable didn’t go home, but the youths had split into two groups. Jula, Marco, Vitor and Nadia together while Cable stayed back with Marcel and Petr. They were never out of sight, it would be foolish to become too separated in the woods, but were out of earshot.
The temperature had cooled significantly since they had entered the tree line, hidden from the sun’s rays and higher into the mountains. They had never been in a forest like this; trees with trunks as wide as a grown man stood tall stretching up into the sky, dark shadows pierced by beams of sunlight in the few clearings. Brown leaves and mossy rocks littered the ground between clumps of bracken that would spread like a carpet as far as they could see.
After several hours of walking the travellers rounded a bend and saw a large clearing to their right with several strange shapes in its centre. Jula stopped and stared, trying to make out what they were. They appeared to be small houses, but were overgrown by plant life. Looking back at her companions she raised her eyebrows before stepping off the path into the knee high undergrowth. Nadia shook her head, shrinking back. Vitor smiled and Marco sighed theatrically and threw up his hands in mock resignation.
“You should stay on the path!” Nadia called out, breaking the near silence of the forest, before hurriedly chasing after them. Jula carefully made her way across the hillside, the surface slippery and uneven. As she neared the could see the reason for the size of the clearing – one of the great trees had fallen many years ago and left the area around it open to the sky. The massive trunk lay on the slope like a great wall covered in moss and patches of fungi. Small patches of grasses sprouted from its rotting wood. Further down the hill
“It fell up the hill.” Vitor pointed down to the mass of roots below them. “How did that happen?”
“There’s less soil on the down slope side so when it falls its easier for it to fall this way.”
The other three turned to look at Nadia, who was looking nervous and somewhat uncomfortable.
“We lived on a hill, and...”
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Marco smiled. “He asked so you answered.”
“Always the peacemaker” Jula muttered before approaching the shape.
It was a large box like shape, not natural. The four stood by it with a mix of awe and confusion. It was buried into the hillside, the exposed parts wrapped in vines and covered in lichen. From its middle grew a comparatively small tree, likely newly sprouting in out of the shadow of the fallen giant.
The box itself was painted in earthy browns and greens, as if not to be seen. There were doors, though they were half buried, and only tiny windows on one side. They circled it and saw that on one side it had been scorched and burnt, a hole melted in its side. The hole went into the ground, the clear area barely large enough to squeeze a hand through, but the top was opened.
“Give me a boost up” said Jula to Marco, awkwardly taking off her pack.
“Are you sure? Your arm’s pretty busted up.”
“It’s only two canas high, I just need a leg up.”
Marco sighed, cupping his hands together for her to put her feet in.
“This is just like that time at Mr Kinling’s farm,” he grunted as she put her weight in his hands, “there’s no talking you out of it!”
With a grunt he hauled her, up to the roof of the box. She scrambled with her one mobile arm for purchase, grasping the vines before pulling her legs up. Carefully moving to a crouching position she called down to the others.
“There are more doors up here. Two small round ones and a big one that’s open.” She pulled vines away with her good arm, tossing them to the ground. “The round ones don’t seem to have handles or anything though.”
“What’s inside?” Marco asked, standing on his tiptoes to try and get a better look.
“It seems to be mostly full of dirt, but there’s a bit of a gap... hang on...”
She dropped down, feet crunching leaves and vines. The inside of the box was bigger than the doors on the roof suggested. First she crouched, but had to drop to her stomach to look. Tears came to her eyes as a jolt of agony shot through her chest and down her arm. Blinking away the tears she looked around.
It was dark and cool under the roof, the walls a simple grey. She could make out what looked like a small door leading to the side with the windows, under the round doors in the roof.
Reaching forward she clawed away the soft soil. She heard one of the boys outside yell something, but she ignored it. There was something on the door – a rune or picture of some sort. Scraping more dirt away she could make out a familiar shape. The sacred winged lightning bolt.
