The Stone of Autroch, Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Khadan

Khadan Jalayir crouched in a bush, staring at the corpse of the Chosen One. A horrid, dripping spine, the length of a forearm pierced the boy’s heart and brought their quest to a very premature end. As if to taunt their failure, the enchanter’s tower where their quest had begun was still visible through gaps in the trees.

The body in the road was Jack Overmarker, a farm boy built like an oak tree. He still gripped a sword in his right hand, a look of surprise on his pale face. Blood soaked the white shirt and pooled beneath him. Khadan emerged from the woods, glancing in both directions and up at the sky.

Creeping from cover, he expected the shriek of the scaly, jackal-headed monsters as they swooped for him. But no such cry came.

Khadan knelt next to the body. “Are you alive?” he whispered.

Jack did not respond.

“I’m just gonna take the Stone of Autroct.”

Jack still did not respond.

Nodding, Khadan fished inside Jack’s trouser pocket, wrapping his fingers around the smooth stone that the old enchanter Gino had given him. He pulled the stone free and held it up in the sunlight. Blue light spread across the surface, solidifying into symbols and letters of some unknown language falling like rain down the surface. Standing up, Khadan dropped the stone into his pocket.

“Well, it was a pleasure travelling with you.” Khadan looked down at the boy. “Even if it was only for an hour. I hope you feel the same and find happiness in whatever afterlife awaits us. Uhm—Good day.”

Turning on his heels, Khadan headed back to where his adventure began. And once he stood before the large wooden doors of Gino’s tower he straightened his back and flattened his doublet. Brushing out the twigs and dust gained from his time spent in the bushes from his leather riding pants. Knocking on the door, he heard it echo inside the empty tower entrance.

There was no response.

Khadan performed another series of knocks, more firm than the first. This prompted the padded shuffling of slippered footsteps. The door creaked open a crack. Dark brown eyes matched to the delicate, ochre skin of Lady Cirina.

“Done already?” she asked in a sharp tone. “Or did you forget your bravery on the doorstep?”

“I do not think I had any bravery to forget. I return because Jack has fallen to the mighty spine of a Drackel,” Khadan replied, solemnly.

Lady Cirina placed fists on her hips, pulling in the loose, grey gown she wore. “What, another one?”

“Yes—,” Khadan answered automatically. “Wait—what do you mean another one.”

Lady Cirina let out a long sigh. She swung open the door. “Come in, Lord Jalayir. You brought the stone back, right?”

“Yes, I have it here in my pocket.”

“That’s good, it’d be a shame if he had to make another one.” Lady Cirina fished a ribbon from her pocket and used it to tie back the tight, dark braids that ran to the small of her back.

“What do you mean another one?” Khadan sputtered louder.

“Never you mind, let’s go speak with Master Gino,” Cirina said, ushering him in and shutting the door. They climbed the spiraling stairs headed for the top of the tower.

“When I started working for the man I expected to learn—well you know—Enchantment. We all dream of making a sword that drops meteors on our bullies, or an amulet that curses whomever wears it. Instead I’ve been nothing but handmaid to that man! Can you believe it? I eek out what wisdom I can but when does the real training start?” She continued in a mocking tone of Gino, “Oh Lady Cirina, please won’t you create an orb of hot water summoning for my bath. Oh Lady Cirina, won’t you watch the chosen one on your crystal ball for me? Mind you, most of them survive longer than it takes for me to sweep up the floor.”

Khadan followed behind her, his mouth ajar. She droned on until they reached the door to the top of the tower and Gino’s office. Knocking on the door, Cirina called out. “Gino, the noble boy is back with the stone. Jack’s dead already.”

They wait for a few seconds. Lady Cirina craned her neck so that her ear hovered above the door. Grabbing the doorknob, she pushed it open to the office of the enchanter. Bookshelves filled the room, stacked to the brim with leather-bound books and knick-knacks of all varieties. On the far side of the room was a desk facing the doorway, a large red chair pointed out the window behind it. Lady Cirina shuffled across the room with Khadan close behind.

“Gino, are you sleeping?” she called from across the room. Rounding the chair, there was Gino, looking as if asleep but unmoving. Grabbing his shoulders, Cirina shook him gently at first, though with increasing intensity as the man did not stir. “Gino are you there?”

He did not move.

She shook more, shouting at him to wake.

He still did not move; nor did his chest rise and fall with breath.

Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, trickling down her face. Khadan grabbed an arm and halted her assault of the deceased man. Gentle tears turned to sobs as Lady Cirina collapsed on the floor.

Over the three days that followed, Khadan worked with Lady Cirina to dig two graves near the edge of the forest for the old man and Jack, whom they retrieved from the road with a cart and ox. A coffin had been long prepared in the basement, beside a small tombstone, four handbreadths in length with only Gino printed upon it.

Using ropes and sawhorses, they lowered the coffin of Gino into the ground beside the unmarked grave of Jack Overmaker. Lady Cirina’s tears had dwindled from constant streams on the day of the Enchanters death, to occasional outbursts. These streams of salty water returned in force as the coffin disappeared beneath dirt.

Khadan shoveled the dirt back into the ground while Lady Cirina spoke, “Gino was a kind man, with a good heart. He worked hard to right a world so wrong, dreaming of mending the Tear. He saw the power in all people, and the necessity of teamwork and cooperation. Gino had the power to move mountains, but moved hearts instead. He will be missed, and by my will never forgotten.”

Khadan awoke days later to opalescent hues scattered across the spare bedroom through the random colors of the stained-glass window. Dressing in a simple gray coat and white trousers. A mirror showed his curling black hair had grown in a poofing ball since its last cut weeks ago. Similar hairs grew from his face into a short beard obscuring his sharp features.

As he had done each day since the discovery of late Gino’s will, he climbed the staircase to the office to help sort the goods with Cirina. Papers shuffled beyond the wooden door as though it were an acknowledgement of his tardiness.

Pushing the door open, Khadan called into the room, “Good morning.”

“Finally awake, are you?” Lady Cirina crowed from across the room. “Come here, I have something to show you.”

Rolling his eyes, Khadan crossed the room to the desk. Behind it sat Lady Cirina, dressed in purple robes as she tended to do these last few days. She turned an open scroll towards Khadan. A list of names and locations crossed by red ink ran down the scroll—at closer inspection Khadan noticed that four names remained unmarked. The first of these was the familiar name of ‘Jack Overmark, Stonefall’ followed by ‘Linta Tilden, Peford’; ‘Erasto Opprey, Izteszent’; and ‘Assandra Resvera, Gualis’.

“What is this?” Khadan asked, though realization dawned as he spoke.

“This is the list of Chosen Ones that Gino”—Cirina flinched at the mention of his name—“created years ago after a series of prophetic dreams.”

“How many names are on that list?” Khadan asked, looking at the size.

“That’s not important. What is important is that we can complete his life’s work,” Lady Cirina said, standing.

“We?” Khadan asked, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure I will join? And what of the tower? who will watch it?”

“I am sure you will join because what else would you do? And this tower is not without its magic. When we have departed, the tower will be inaccessible until we return. Gi—there are many powerful enchantments upon it to protect it while we search for the Chosen Ones.” Lady Cirina rolled up the scroll and slid it into a scroll case. “Please prepare for travel.”

“What do you mean I have nothing else to do?” Khadan asked, blood rising. “I am the child of a noble house!”

“Third child—and least favored am I right? Hardly worth the cost; housing a third son.”

“You speak very ill of someone who you wish a great deal from?”

“No, I speak the truth that hurts. If not for me, or yourself, you should do this because you swore an oath to take the Stone of Autroct to the Statue at the End.”

Khadan sniffed, glaring out the window. “That is true. If not for myself, but for my house I should hold my oaths. Very well, my lady. But I must point out one key flaw in your plan. Neither of us is Gino, the Enchanter of the Tower. Convincing a series of children to follow us to almost certain death will be impossible.”

Lady Cirina paused for a moment as she was tying shut the small scroll case. “Did you know what Gino looked like before you met him?”

Khadan opened his mouth, then closed it again before answering. “I did not.”

Lady Cirina raised her eyebrows, giving him a sly smile.

“No! I shan’t!” Khadan shook his head while waving his hands in front of him. “I don’t know Enchantment and the ruse will surely be discovered.”

“I can do any simple enchantments we need, you can claim a bone illness.”

“A bone illness? In one so young as I?”

“You have an artifact of illusion that makes you appear young.”

Khadan stomped his foot. “Lie upon lie! All shall see through this and I will hanged.”

“True, but—counterpoint—I don’t wish for the world to end. So put on your big boy robes, and we will be on our way.” Cirina rose to end the argument, placing a hand up to silence any further thoughts from Khadan. “Grab robes from Gino’s bedroom, we must leave soon for Derry.”

Khadan let out a breath through clenched teeth. “Very well, Lady Cirina—for my oaths will see it done.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. And just call me Cirina, it will be suspicious if you are calling me such a formal name in public,” she replied waving her hand.

“Very well, Cirina.” Khadan stomped from the room.