A tale of Celcynd. Chapter Five.

[Tynerion]

Chapter 5

The Rithwic pub was devoid of activity at this time of night and but two figures remained. A man sitting enshrouded in the darkness at a far table to the side of the establishment, and the proprietor, Ricetha. The former had just finished the last remaining tasks for the night, cleaning up the tables, carefully stacking washed beer steins and sweeping up the remnants of discarded chicken bones from the less couth customers.

As he looked around him for anything he might have missed, he smiled at the stories he had heard throughout the night from many of his patrons. It never ceased to amaze him to see how the regaling of events by many of the local explorers would progress throughout the evening. The early tales were always plausible, including recollections of Drudge battles and Banderling bashing. But as the storytellers became increasingly inundated with the house Ale, it was not uncommon to hear about the dispatching of a Tremendous Monouga single handedly, "with but a flaming dirk and a piece of cheese". What truly amazed him was that his equally intoxicated audience would in most cases believe his machinated yarn. If anyone new to the inn showed even the slightest disbelief, it was tradition for the storyteller to yell out across the crowded room to gain the bartenders attention for validation since the bartender would always have the final say on such matters. It wasn't so much that he believed them to be true, but he was generally the only sober person in the bar at any given time, which always lended to his credibility. Ricetha would of course back up the stories, for he knew that a contented customer was a paying customer. No matter how far he lived from reality.

But now Ricetha was all but finished closing his pub for the day. The only tasks remaining were to restock his caskets of Ale from the basement, and to usher out his only remaining guest, Celcynd the Dour. He hated this last chore. Other than the rising price of foodstuffs recently, Celcynd was the only other negative aspect of his business. If it weren’t for the fact that Celcynd was the Rithwic Society Agent, meant to help the new arrivals to the land, Ricetha would have banned him from entering his bar doors long ago. Ricetha knew the stories about this man. He himself was but nine years old and playing by the Rithwic bridge throwing stones when children started appearing around him like dropping from the sky. Some bruised, some bloodied. All with faces painted with fear. All that he knew spoke highly of Celcynd and thought him a hero. All, that is except for Celcynd. Celcynd considered himself a failure and turned to drink in an attempt to rid him of the nightmares and the loss. He sat at his table every day from morning until he was shown the door at the end of the night, drinking ale, performing his station to the minimum adherence. His gloomy outlook was always a source of agitation to Ricetha. It was not a good thing for business, not at all. So when anyone came in for a table, he would always put them far away from the incessant dark cloud of a man that sat on the other side of the pub.

Ricetha walked up to Celcynd who was staring at nothing with empty eyes. "Celcynd", he spoke softly, "It's almost time to go, so while I am restocking, please finish your drink."

At first, Celcynd didn't respond, but kept focused on whatever cloudy vision he was having. As Ricetha was about to reiterate his request, louder this time, Celcynd turned his head and nodded without a word. Ricetha sighed and shook his head as he turned towards the stairs to where his caskets of ale were kept and disappeared leaving Celcynd alone in the room.

Celcynd turned his focus to his mug and watched as the cloudy concoction swirled within. "Just like my soul." he thought. "Bitter, rich in darkness and no longer with effervescence, poured into a hardened shell and as lukewarm as can be." He raised the cup to his lips; finishing the last bit and whispered; "At least the ale is gone when the last drop is quaffed. Unlike myself, who has no escape.".

As he did every evening before retiring from the pub, Celcynd reached into his pockets and pulled out three items wrapped in soft cloth and placed them on the table in front of him. To the left he set a little clay figurine given to him years ago by a little girl. No worse for wear, the statuette of Brentsella seemingly looked back at him with loving eyes. The second item he placed in the middle. A little silver ring he received from Brentsella the day that the nightmare had begun.

The ring and the statuette caused Celcynds mind once more to reel back to that infamous day. He wished that he could drink enough ale to prevent these memories from flooding back to him, but he come to learn that the drinking would not remove that day from his mind. It only served to numb some of the pain associated with it.

He had spent the last few minutes of that day opening portals for the children’s amusement. Originally he had only intended to make one to Rithwic. The children would ogle his creation and ask questions. But they insisted he do more, and since he was in a particularly good mood after his time with Brentsella, he capitulated to their demands, opening portal after portal in a semi-circle fashion out in the field near the schoolhouse. His actions expended the pool of mana he had built up and his components were running out, but he loved the faces of the children as they watched him toss a pebble into one of the swirling masses only to see it disappear into nothingness. He only hoped that there was nobody in Rithwic passing by his portal end-point at the time. If there were, he'd hear about it, he was certain.

Just as the last portal sputtered and ebbed away into the evening sky and he was about to send the children home, it happened. It all happened. The world erupted around him.

First there were the screams heard in the direction of Holtburg proper. Terrible screams of the Holtburg womenfolk seeing their town being overrun by Tumeroks. Slaying the unsuspecting citizens who didn't even have time to think, much less to fight back. Then he saw the smoke rising from over the hill. It took Celcynd a second for all of this to register in his mind. Being so surreal, he stood there next to the children, all as dumbfounded and confused as he was. It wasn't until an arrow whizzed by his ear and lodged itself into a nearby tree that he came out of his stupor and had the sense to act.

The only thought now that impressed itself in his mind was "The children! They must be saved!" Without thinking, and with the speed attained from years of practice, Celcynd within a second had pulled out the assortment of components from his pack needed and moved a few feet away from the fearful children. Many of who were crying loudly at this point, despite Brentsellas attempts to keep them calm.

"When I open this portal, everyone must go into it! Do you understand? I mean EVERYONE!" He bellowed, without even looking to verify their acknowledgement.

Quickly he closed his eyes and recited the words that summoned a portal to Rithwic. And only the sound of loud static was heard. He had failed.

Looking quickly behind him to make sure the children were still with him, he saw a dark form rising above the crest of the hill towards town. It was a Tumerok. He knew the Tumerok had seen them and his double-take let Celcynd know that death would come swiftly if he did not act soon for the Tumerok had brought out a composite bow and was preparing to noch an arrow.

Once again he turned back to the open area in front of him and replaced the components that he had burned up with his unsuccessful attempt. Taking a deep breath, he once again moved his hands to summon what was left of his depleted mana and yelled out in desperation, "ROIGA THILOI!!" His voice carried over the sounds of the nearby massacre and as if the magical ley lines around him understood his need, in front of him appeared the white form of a portal.

Another arrow buried its head in the ground before Celcynds feet. He felt sure the next one would not miss and looked at Brentsella. "Get them in! Go!" he rasped, "I must go help the others!"

Celcynd turned toward the oncoming Tumerok and noticed that two others, both with staves, had joined him. Unsheathing the only weapon he had, he placed himself between the children making their way into the portal and the Tumerok assault. His mind raced for a way to take on the three encroachers, for he knew his dagger and melee skills were hardly up to par. There was no way he could take on three of them in hand-to-hand combat.

Upon seeing Celcynd open a portal of escape for the children of this town, Keutah realized that his plans could not be completely successful. Being too far from the group of humans down the hill, he knew that it would be complete luck if he was to hit any of them, but in desperation he tried anyway. There was no time to get closer. The first one hit a tree and as he nocked his second arrow, two of his troops caught up with him brandishing their ebony staffs.

"Attack them!" he yelled to them; "destroy them before they can escape!"

The two instantly obeyed and ran full force down the hill toward Celcynd, Brentsella the few remaining children yet to enter the portal. These seasoned warriors knew that if they could close the distance in time, that the man with a dagger, the woman and the children would be easily dispatched.

Celcynd watched as the two warriors closed in at blinding speed and felt helpless. He was sure this was to be his end. He would do his best to hold the assailers off until Brentsella had entered the portal, and then he would die. The acceptance of this solidified his stance as he faced his foes. If his death meant that Brentsella and the children would live, he would gladly give his life.

The acquiescence to his fate was sharply broken when he heard Brentsella’s panicked voice behind him. "Celcynd! Where is Hardunna?! She has not gone through!" Celcynds heart cried out in despair, but his voice was level. "Are you sure Brentsella?" he asked. "Yes.." she choked out. "She did not go through with the rest."

As Celcynd quickly glanced around him, his eyes rested on a huddled shape precariously perched in a nearby tree. It was Hardunna. Before the attack had started she was apart from the rest of the children watching the portals, looking for some sticks or such for her next creation. When the screaming and smoke began, she had climbed up the nearest climbable tree in response to it. Her tiny cries went unheard and now she hugged the tree with eyes closed as the horror ensued. The Tumerok on the hill was now sighting her in with his bow and already, one arrow had grazed her right arm causing a trickle of blood that began to soak her tunic. She wanted to run now, but couldn't. Her fear held her sure to the trunk of the tree.

Celcynd had only one recourse. He could not save Hardunna and fight the two coming for him at the same time. Dropping his dagger, he once again pulled out his wand and components, spoke the words, made the motions one last time. The chances of him pulling this off were slim. Not only because of his dwindled mana store, but also if it was not timed right. If it was not placed at just the right area..

The two Tumerok were now within a stones throws distance from Celcynd. They saw Hardunna as well, but this was not their target. It was this gesturing human man they were to kill. Keutah would see to the child. They cleared the distance between them and this man in barely any time. Their staffs now carried in front of them as lances that would bring Celcynd to the ground where they could cave in his head to finish him.

And they stopped...

No.. they didn't stop. Something stopped them, or to be more precise, intercepted them. The last thing they saw was the sun setting behind mountains as they plummeted to their death. They had not even seen the portal open as Celcynd burnt up the last of his magical components, casting it directly in their path. Even if they had, they could not have stopped in time. Their life was forfeit, and their bodies would be a welcome meal to the Dire Ursuins that watched them as they fell from the sky.

Celcynd did not even have time to breath a sigh of relief. The immediate danger to him was gone, but the large Tumerok had moved to within range of the sobbing Hardunna. This time there would be no arrows wasted. Celcynd ran as fast as his tiring body would take him, but he knew it would not be in time. As he watched the Tumerok draw back his bowstring, he spoke out her name as if it would be the last thing he would ever say to her.

Celcynd closed his eyes as the twang of the bow sounded through the trees, and the sickening "thunk" of an arrow hitting flesh burnt Celcynd to the core. But when he opened them, Hardunna was still there in the tree. The arrow he heard did not pierce her. Instead, it went through the chest of Keutah, who did not see the other Tumerok standing on the edge of the forest. But now Keutah did see his slayer. And right before his lungs closed up and his veins became empty of blood, he crumpled to the ground uttering his last words. "Mripuh! Thou Traitor! I should have killed you.. I should have slain you where you stood.."

Celcynd turned to see his only Tumerok acquaintance and friend Mriuah. His mind filled with questions wanting answers, but the only words he could utter were, "thank you, my friend."

"You must go,” replied Mriuah, "the host is coming. Take the child and go through your portal before it is gone."

As if on cue, a flood of forms came over the hill from Holtburg. In front ran what were left of the townspeople. They had come here to protect their children from the murderous onslaught. To their rear were the best fighters, men and women alike with an assortment of weapons blindly attempting to fend off the chasing Tumerok army. They were losing badly as Celcynd watched several of his closest friends fall to an arrow or a poisonous dart.

He grabbed the petrified Hardunna from her tree, intending to push her into the waning Rithwic portal and face his fate with the rest of the townspeople. “Perhaps, just one more portal can be opened.” He thought, but the cry from the front of the Holtburg remnant caused Hardunna to come out of her petrification. It was her mother Alynne, who was uplifted to see her daughter in the arms of Celcynd. She knew that if anyone could save them, He could.

Alynnes reaction had an unfortunate result. "Mama, I need you!" Hardunna yelped, wriggling from Celcynds grasp. Hardunna wanted to be where she thought she would be safe. In her mothers arms.

Celcynd did not need this. He knew that the portal was seconds from closing and when it did, Hardunna would be lost with the rest of the town. His jump and tackle of the little child seemed harsh, but it was necessary. Picking up the struggling girl up, he sprinted with every bit of strength left in his body to where the portal stood. His last view as he entered the spatial corridor was of Alynne with her outstretched arms trying to get to her little girl before the portal was gone. The last thing he heard was Hardunna still fighting his grasp, screaming "NO! NOOOOO!".

[Sassy]

WOW......another great chapter!

[Lo Ki]

Nice work! I look forward to chapter 6!