The Wyvern & The Spear

Darkness overtook the wagon two more times before it rattled to Cycsteria's Hold. A blizzard had swept up through the evergreens as they passed into the northlands. Night had fallen four hours earlier the first night. Even if it had not, the wagon had slowed to a crawl. The horse's hooves cracked and splintered  the second day, as they crossed the Obsidian shards that stuck up from the grounds of High March. A road used during the war that had seen massive fire. Teller had apologized to Halren after they were forced to use the treacherous detour. "I did not know the blizzard would block the road beyond us and force us to take this path. I shall buy you new horses when we reach the Hold."

       The night of the second day came six hours early. The chill was beaten back by Teller's fire. The snow made it crackle. But with only one log, the fire raged on through the darkness. Even after all of this, Renzel did not wake.

      Alverna stayed by his side none the less. Desperately growing all the more worried. But the morning of the final day. All awoke to no blizzard. Nor did they wake to obsidian shards. What they had risen to and from, was the finest smell of mint brittle and crowsweed pipe smoke they had ever encountered. Teller opened his eyes first, for he didn't sleep but was rather in a trance. Tracking something. He rose with his eyes shut and took a long, deep and satisfied inhale of the abundant aromas. And a smile slowly crept across his face as he opened to the forest, knowing what had happened. Master Mock. Was awake, healed and puffing a pipe by the fire with a pot of mintbrittle tea bubbling brilliantly.

      Teller and Renzel met eyes and with a grin. The Magi nodded to each other out of respect. Alverna and Halren slept long that day. But all was at peace for the moment. Questions and goals could be sated later. Instead, Teller pulled out his own pipe and joined Renzel by the fire. Where the two smoked for hours and sipped tea in silence.

It was highnoon when Alverna and Halren creaked awake from their blankets. Though mid-day, frost still hung in the air. Alverna could hear someone over the hill stirring the horses. She smelled crowsweed and mint brittle tea. The air was electric, that's when she noticed that her keep. Her best friend and dying Magi Renzel. Was not in her blankets. She rose in a panic, kicking Halren awake and scuttling around the campsite looking for drag marks and yelling for Teller. A figure emerged over the hill and Alverna clung to it tight, tears in her eyes.

"They took him Teller, someone or something took Ren!"

"Verna, nobody took me. I simply needed to stretch my limbs and ready the wagon. You see, we are almost to Cycsteria."

Alverna looked up from the chest she clung, to see Renzel, not Teller grinning back at her. She grinned with happiness from ear to ear, but quickly scowled and hit the mage in the chest knocking him back.

"You gave me a heart attack! Wretched mage and all of your kind.. Don't ever do that again! Carry some bread with you or something so you wont deplete.."

Renzel smiled and pointed a finger upwards in between them. A black and white flame seeped forth effortlessly, it did not flicker, nor did it waiver. But as steady as it burned. The flame began to melt and flow south like water, slithering in slow circles around Renzel's wrist. It began to pick up rotation and change its shape, growing larger and larger until an abyssal cloak hung from Renzel's palm. Alverna stepped back from the flaming garment with amazement in her eyes.

      With a snap of a finger the flames smothered to a hiss. Renzel held the cloak out wide in front of Alverna, a house symbol was etched into the back.

"The Wyvern and the spear, your father's house.. I can never repay you for the sacrifice you have made in aiding me and my efforts. As well as watching over me Verna. So I give you this. A cloak baring your kin's insignia."

The cloak was a darkened deep maroon, shining a gold Wyvern in the light. Alverna teared and took it slowly from Renzel's hand.

"It's made of my abyssal essence.. When you wear this. You will never grow cold nor hot, spears and swords will no longer be a problem for you. Shall they strike the cloak itself."

        Alverna grinned and threw it around her, giving Renzel a hug. Halren had already scuffled off to drink his tea and was helping Teller with the horses. Alverna leaned in to The Mage's ear and whispered.

"I'm still mad at you, but thank you Renzel Mock."

         Renzel nodded and chuckled, following Alverna over the hillside toward the wagon. He had many questions for Teller and once they arrived in Cycsteria he would get his answers. But for now, he must contain himself. He was stronger, and the Spark that surged within him was urging him to fuel it. To use it.

'For now, I will ease my questions for you Teller, I thank you for what you've done, but I do not truly know you, nor your intentions. You are a curiously level minded mage.. Or maybe this is all a game of trickery. Time will tell.'

                               __

     The wagon came to the Cycsterian stables just as the weather broke. Though that night would mean stars in the skies, it would deliver no warmth. The Northlands were cold all year long and the only relief would be found not by the changing of seasons, but under wolf pelt garments and crackling Tavern firepits.

        Magic was forbidden in Cycsteria, and had been since the Magi war. However purchases of elixirs could still be made, various potions, lesser healing and mixtures that promised buffs for three days or more. Iron skin was a popular item, making the drinker's pelt as thick as a turtle shell. What they don't relay to the customer is the pain it causes in your bones. Teller and Renzel knew of this and strayed from the elixir market. They kept to themselves, Alverna had gotten a room at the Wailing Witchling and was fast asleep by her fire. Halren had ran off to a brothel of sorts, which left Teller and Renzel sitting at a table in the corner of a Tavern; sharing silence over an ale. It was a good hour before either spoke, when Teller started.

"I'm sure you're curious why I'm here."

Renzel took a swig out of his clay mug and kept eyes on Teller.

"Not really, Alverna filled me in."

Teller grinned and looked down, fiddling with his mug.

"We both know there is more to it."

Renzel grinned back, leaning back in his chair and looking across the Tavern toward the bard. Who was singing a tale of brave Cycsterian knights, slaying hundreds of Magi during the war.

"Very well, I'll ask my question. Why is a White mage. Seeking out and aiding a black mage. Who's father he had dismembered during the war? Who are you working for Teller. What could they possibly want with me?"

      Teller considered for a moment and pushed his fiery red hair back behind his ears with a sigh. After much consideration he leaned in and uttered a name.

"Ferin. Lazarus."

Renzel choked on his swig of ale and burst out laughing.

"Ferin died during the war Teller. Both him and Thanious. I wouldn't ask such questions, had I known you were a few screws short of a shelf."

The white mage sighed.

"I know how it sounds, I was sent after you because I have seen you. That look on your face as a child from the window of your cottage. That was the only reason I patched your father, instead of collecting his life. But because of that memory being such a strong willed one. It enabled me to remember your aura and track you."

Renzel leaned back in his chair in disbelief. Teller continued.

"I was instructed to gather you and a Wyvern and bring them here. I was to leave the Wyvern here and take you further down the path. To meet Ferin himself. When I woke Lady Alverna was carrying me, I had no intention of keeping her around. It wasn't until you made that cloak with her family crest this morning that I realized she's the Wyvern.. She can not come with us. She must stay. Ferin has seen this. Our fates diverge here Renzel."

      Renzel rasped his fingers on the table and watched two barmaids begin to dance as the bard plucked at his lute.

"Will she be harmed? If there is danger for her here, I will not leave her."

"There's less danger for her here than there is out there. In good conscious I must tell you. If we take her.. She will die.. All paths I have seen say this."

Renzel's brow furrowed.

"What's to stop her from following us into the Forest of Sorrow? To Ferinion?"

Teller chuckled and signaled a barmaid with a silver.

"Because that map isn't where we are going, it is a map to Helmronli, she will follow it. Where she will end up with the wood elves."

"You would send her to unknowing Elves? They'll drain her soul for entering their sacred lands!"

The barmaid brought them two more mugs of ale and scampered off to entertain a group of guards who came in from a shift change at their post.

"She's expected, they will protect her. Until the time comes when they can't. They have their orders."

Renzel considered, with a great sigh of anguish he nodded.

"When must we leave?"

Teller closed his eyes and inhaled. After a few seconds he released. Taking a final swig of his ale and stood.

"Now. Leave your ivory blade at Alverna's bed chamber. We shall aquire you a new weapon on the morrow, something more suitable for you."