SALVATION FOR THE FALLEN Chapter 7

Earnest had taken a stamina break and was on his way back to the battlefield when he heard the horn sound three long piercing blasts - the battle was over. Corvintheus and his army were defeated by the Castle Angels and friends. Rather than continue on his way to the fighting, Earnest changed direction and went to his tavern, The Diova Gruss. It was always the first place the Angels would stop on their way back to their homes and he felt he should prepare for his patrons’ arrival. They always lingered over a pint of cool ale while they regale the others of tales from the battlefield, compare wounds, and brag about how many of the enemy fell by their swords. It was a place to laugh and unwind with friends who understood the hardships of battle. But most of all, the tavern was a place for the Angels to gather and check who was alive – a roll call of battle survivors.

As Earnest predicted, the Angels began arriving in small groups. The Diova Gruss started filling up with battle-worn Angels; some with bandages, some with crutches, some with blood-stained clothing but all with the weary relief of victory. Those that had been injured sat at the tables and others stood around talking. As Earnest filled order after order for food and drinks, the laughter became freer and the noise level inside the tavern increased. He liked seeing the place like this. Not that he liked battles because of the toll it took on the warriors, but that they felt comfortable to stay, mingle, and share. THAT was always good for business!

He took a quick look around him as he kept pace with the demands. Deamon was here and was sitting with his twin brothers, Deamon666 and Bone Face. They were sitting along the back wall by the hepzabilas and keeping to themselves although it looked as if Kathryn was hobbling towards their table to join their group. Deamon saw her coming on her crutches, her right leg bandaged tightly, and offered his chair to her. She had sustained a nasty wound and Larien had told her to not put her weight on it. Caro and Cat sat two tables to the left from them and were chatting with Bernardo and Susana. Bernardo had his left arm in a sling. King Sylvain was at the table in the corner and it looked like he, Tian and Yiel were in deep conversation already. Miro and Jovan were at the end of the bar already enjoying their drinks, laughing loudly, and slapping each other on the back. Stefan, Monah and Iva came through the tavern door. Jovan glanced up and saw them approaching. He waved them over to join Miro and himself. Stefan had his head wrapped in bandages, the blood still seeping in a small pool through the gauze. Iva was favoring her left foot and slowly limped over, leaning heavily on the single crutch under her arm. Actually, the Angels had fared well in their fight with only small injuries and no deaths.

“Hey, Earnest, can we get a pint all around for our table?” Poul was sitting at the closest front table with Alina, Becky and Russ. All four had varying amounts of blood spattered on their clothes. Russ’s left sleeve was torn close to the shoulder and a pink stain could be seen underneath. He didn’t seem to be bothered with any discomfort by the wound, although it probably needed to be dressed before the end of the night.

“Sure, I’ll bring them right over, Poul!” Earnest shouted back. He turned and started filling tankards with fresh ale.

As he carried the four mugs over to Poul’s table, the door open and Carl, Butch and Zigaroth came in. All three men had a look of seriousness about them and not the jovial back-slapping and laughter of the other patrons. They headed for the corner table on the right side of the dining area, the furthest from any of the other occupied ones.

As they started to pass the counter, Jovan raised his glass and shouted for all in the place to hear, “Corvintheus and his army are dead! Cheers to the Castle Angels! Another strong victory for us all!”

Those within the tavern looked up from their various conversations at Jovan’s toast, raised their glasses, and yelled back almost in unison, “Here, here!!”

With everyone in the Diova Gruss yelling their toasts from table to table, they did not hear the arrival of Larien Arcamenel, the Angels’ Elf Queen. Earnest was wiping down the counter and happened to look up because the breeze from the door opening wafted over him. Larien looked at him and smiled a weary smile. He nodded back at her weak greeting. He thought she looked tired and worn, as if she was carrying the weight of the Angels on her shoulders. Earnest watched as she took stock of those already celebrating, her eyes focused on Russ’s arm. She stopped at his table.

Larien knew that Russ had not come into the tent to have his wound dressed. It didn’t look too bad from here, but it still needed to be cleansed. She put her small hand on Russ’s good shoulder to get his attention.

Startled, Russ looked up at her and smiled, “Hello, my Queen. Would you like to sit and celebrate with us?”

“I really should look at your wound, Russ. As a cleric, you know how quickly infection can set in. Let me at least clean it.”

“Oh, I will be alright,” Russ replied, excitement over the victory still strong in his voice. “Come, sit down with us. You have been very busy these last few nights. I don’t think that you slept more than a couple of hours as you were always awake when I left for a few hours and you were still awake when I woke up. We cannot have you falling ill!”

Larien briefly closed her eyes and when they opened she quietly agreed, “Thank you, Russ. I think I will sit as you suggest.” She smiled. Russ noticed that her smile did not reach her eyes.

Russ gave her his chair as he left to borrow one from another table. He had known Larien for a long time and knew that there was more on her mind than just weariness from healing, something about the battle – maybe about Corvintheus. If she were true to form, she would tell them about it before the night was over. He would place bets on it if he could get any takers. He chuckled under his breath, like anyone really would! They knew her just as well as he did!

Earnest brought another glass to the table, placing it in front of Larien. After a couple of sips, she started talking softly.

“Do any of you know who we just battled?” As she looked around the faces of those at her table, she could read the confusion her words brought. “Corvintheus, the leader of the army we just defeated, is a demi-god.”

Poul exclaimed, “Corvintheus was a demi-god?” His voice increased in volume – his facial expression shocked, “You mean to tell me that WE, the Castle Angels, just defeated a demi-god?” His animated actions attracted the attention of the other Angels. They ceased talking, one table at a time, and all turned to the table with Poul and Larien. Larien could feel their eyes swivel towards her; a look of puzzled amazement and confusion could be found on their faces.

“Yes, one of his army caught hold of my ankle on the battlefield. I gave him aid to ease his pain. Before he died, he told me about his leader, Corvintheus. Corvintheus’s quest was to rule this land with absolute righteousness and power. He also felt that kingdoms are built on sacrifices and that those sacrifices would be made by anyone who would not follow HIS path. He is no longer the man that people worship for THAT Corvintheus would not oppress those that strive for their own form of righteousness. The demi-god has, in his impatience with us mortals, turned to oppression and tyranny in his attempt to unite the land.” Larien’s voice became quieter as the Angels leaned closer. “You know the blinding white light that we saw on the battlefield?” she continued after several nodded their heads that they had indeed seen the flash of light. “That was Corvintheus disappearing. There wasn’t any trace of Aurelius either. I searched for their bodies but couldn’t find them. Both of them left their army behind to fall to our swords. All those we just killed were sacrificed for Corvintheus’ misguided righteousness and greed.”

Larien continued, her voice weary from the stress and strain of the last few days, “Even demi-gods can become evil under the guise of helping people. The Castle Angels will need to continue to prevail against these injustices and overcome these evils. We need to continue to fight for those that are oppressed. We need to bring light and truth so it will overcome the darkness that may encompass our world. We need to continue to fight with our convictions against those whom we feel will destroy us. Let THIS be our pledge and our toast this night.”

The tavern was quiet and those Angels within its walls could still hear Larien’s words echoing in their minds as she stood and slowly made her way out the door and into the dark night.

created originally 1 June 2011

SALVATION FOR THE FALLEN Chapter 6

Morning found Bartholomew well rested. He said good bye to Shadow and made his way down the mountain and to the Castle Angels’ Keep. As he walked, he felt a nervous energy building inside. He had waited so long for this moment to happen and now that he could physically see it in front of him, his stomach was in knots. What if all that he knew was wrong? What if the little conversation he had with Kirey were just the ramblings of an old man like Yerik? What if this whole quest was nothing but searching for a bone in a graveyard? What if this Carl person will not be able to help him?

Each step brought Bartholomew closer and closer to the tavern where he would soon learn some of the answers…or so he thought. The village was already starting to wake up. He walked past the blacksmith’s. That was strange! At first glance, it looked like two women were working the fire and anvil. That seemed a strange job for females but he shrugged his shoulders. Who was HE to say what was normal anymore…he had a dragon! He walked further down and around a corner and there, on the side of a building, hung a sign that read, “Diova Gruss Tavern”. He stopped abruptly and so did his heart. He was here. Bartholomew took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then he put one foot in front of the other, walked to the building, and opened the door.

Purpose

The sun was so bright that when he first opened the door to the tavern, he was blinded and couldn’t see the darkened inside. He sensed that everyone turned and looked at him. As Bartholomew let the door close behind him, his eyes became accustomed to the dim interior so that he could make out those patrons scattered about the tables. There was a serving girl standing next to a table, laughing at something the man had said. There was a colorful bird along the back which looked iridescent in the sunlight from the window. There was a young man, probably about his age, standing behind the counter. There were two gentlemen sitting at a table finishing their meal. He had the feeling that his arrival caused all conversations to end abruptly.

Bartholomew nodded his head in a single greeting to everyone at the Diova Gruss. He was not surprised that conversation quit the minute he arrived. He was a stranger in their midst. Trying not to let it affect him, he walked up to the young man at the counter. “Hello, there. I was wondering if there was a man named Carl here? I believe he is one of the owners.”

Earnest looked up from what he was doing and he said, pointing to the table with the two men who were finishing their meal, “Yeah, he’s over there. You looking for work? We don’t have any openings at the moment.”

“No, I was told to come here and see him. Thank you.” Bartholomew approached the table. He still didn’t know which man was Carl. One of them looked to be in his 50’s, slender build with strong, capable hands that showed he was not afraid of work. His face was kind and when he smiled it reached his eyes. His hair was graying and not overly long. The other man looked to be older, maybe in his 70’s with white bushy eyebrows and longish white hair. He was sitting there smoking a pipe that looked vaguely familiar in shape. He had seen one like it recently. It looked exactly like the one Kirey was smoking in Morridin. He gave a little shake of his head trying to erase the memory and approached the table.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I was sent here to talk to a man named Carl. Would one of you be him?”

Carl looked up at Bartholomew and said, “Hello, Butch. Why don’t you sit down with us?”

Holding the bowl of the pipe in his hand, the older man pointed the tip at Bartholomew and asked, “So, boy, you hungry?” He made a slight wave and a nod to Earnest without waiting for Bartholomew’s answer.

Bartholomew didn’t know what to say first. First, his father’s name was Butch although that was a nickname that he had back in Dragon Mountain that a few older people used. But why would this man call him by that name? Second, the older man greeted him just like Kirey did yesterday, even to the same jester with his pipe. And, third, he looked very familiar! He said the first thing that came to mind, “Sorry, my name is Bartholomew.”

Carl looked hard at him and after a few seconds said, “Nope. You look like Butch to me. Come, join us. I am Carl and this here is Zigaroth.”

Bartholomew walked around the table to one of the vacant chairs. As he sat down, he looked more closely at Zigaroth. Zigaroth just sat quietly, smoking his pipe, the bowl in his hand. He took it out of his mouth and again used it to point at Bartholomew and stated, “Yes, I agree with Carl. You are the spitting image of Butch. So much easier to say than Bartholomew, too.”

“As you wish, sir. That is my father’s name and the villagers often called me by that name too.” Butch’s smile included both men. “However, my business is with Carl.”

“Well,” Zigaroth replied again emphasizing with his pipe, “Actually, your business is with both of us, Butch.”

Earnest brought some food and placed the plate in front of Butch. “Here’s the lunch special. The bread and pastries are Carl’s pride and joy so make sure to tell him you like it!” Butch was hungrier than he thought he would be so started eating almost immediately. By the empty plates in front of the two men, they had already eaten and he didn’t need to wait for permission. None of the men talked but let Butch fill his belly.

Carl watched him eat and waited until he had a few bites remaining. Then he looked Butch in the eye and stated, “So, Zigaroth tells me that you brought Shadow with you. After you finish up here, I want you to take us to him.”

Butch’s heart stopped, the last forkful poised half-way to his mouth! His face turned white as the fork fell from nerveless fingers and clinked against the pewter plate! He felt panic well up inside him and at the same time, his heart started racing again!

Zigaroth looked at Carl and said, “I think we better go. This is not the place for this conversation. Come, boy, follow us.” With that, he rose from his chair and started walking, not once looking back to see if Carl or Butch were following him.

The three men left the tavern retracing the steps that Bartholomew, or Butch, had just walked. Zigaroth was leading the way as if he knew just where Shadow could be found. Butch was not sure what to think anymore. Zigaroth looked so familiar and, if he didn’t know any better, would have said that they had met before today. Carl had a familiarity about him that he could not place, either. It wasn’t just in looks but in his mannerisms, the way he was walking and carrying himself. They reminded Bartholomew of his father in Dragon Mountain. He thought that by coming to the Castle Angels, he was going to find answers to the questions he had about dragon riding and the big war. Now, Butch was finding himself with even MORE questions that needed answers! He felt himself in quite a confused state and it was a very unsettling feeling which he didn’t like.

Zigaroth took them right to the cave where Shadow had been left. As Shadow came out and went over to Butch, Butch took off his glove and put his hand to Shadow’s head. Then the strangest thing occurred while they stood connected. It was a familiar sound accompanied by air movement. Both Butch and Shadow looked up towards the sky. Descending from the sky from higher up the mountain was a gold dragon. The gold dragon landed, walked up to Carl, and greeted her with his hand placed between her eyes.

Butch was speechless; his eyes big and his mouth wide open.

Carl turned and looked at Butch and simply said, “We are going riding. Mount and follow us.”

Both men mounted their dragons and were taken up, around, and over Tonathium Mountain with Carl and Baroness taking the lead. Butch and Shadow followed the older pair. It was quiet riding through the sky together, the only sound being the flapping of the wings of two dragons. The sun would be setting in a few hours but Butch wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t really thinking anything other than, maybe, just maybe, he would get some answers to his questions. After all these years of hiding Shadow, worrying over all the “what ifs”, he might have found someone he could talk to, relate to. And with that realization, his heart soared even as Shadow soared with Baroness. Butch did not pay attention to where they went or how long they rode together, just that it was two men with their two dragons.

Butch realized the ride was over when he saw Zigaroth standing exactly where they had left him. Both men landed their dragons, touched their hands, and turned to walk towards Zigaroth. Carl was the first to speak.

“Zigaroth, we must get to the inn immediately and sound the alarm. I spotted an army approaching from the south and it is of good size. We must send the Call to Arms to the Angels. The army is almost upon us so we do not have time for any delay.”

Then Carl looked at Butch, “Butch, we are about to be engaged in battle. Tell no one of what just happened with the dragons. We will talk soon. However, we must act swiftly and have no time to waste.”

All three men, walked swiftly back to the Keep. Carl rang the alarm as the sun set.

created originally 1 June 2011

SALVATION FOR THE FALLEN Chapter 5

Since the old man was already gone, there was no sense staying in Morridin. He would have enjoyed talking more to Kirey, as it seemed like Kirey had some of the information that Bartholomew needed. Perhaps he could come back to Morridin, find Kirey, and ask him the questions. But for now, he needed to find the Tonathium Mountains, the Castle Angels, the tavern Diova Gruss, and a man named Carl. And in that order. He also had the feeling that all would be found north of Morridin.

Before Bartholomew left the village, he planned to stop at the Inn of the Sleeping Dragon for some guidance as to where to find the Tonathium Mountains. The way that Kirey talked, Bartholomew felt that he was close to finding out the answers to ALL of his questions. He felt the excitement grow inside him, giving him butterflies in his stomach.

He was so busy thinking of his good fortune that he walked into a middle-aged lady carrying some packages. He was jolted out of his revelry and exclaimed, “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Please forgive my rudeness! I didn’t see you.” Bartholomew was embarrassed with himself and helped pick up the food that dropped from her arms.

“That’s quite alright, dearie. From the looks of you, your mind was somewhere else indeed.” She was very understanding and didn’t yell at him for his clumsiness. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

With excitement showing in his voice, he gave her the packages and replied , “I am journeying to the Castle Angels and a tavern called Diova Gruss. I believe it is on the other side of the Tonathium Mountains. I was just thinking of popping into the Sleeping Dragon for directions and any other information I might need.”

“Oh, dearie, no need to do that.” She turned and pointed to a distant mountain on the horizon to the north of Morridin. “There’s your Tonathium Mountains way over there. Just on the other side of them, you’ll find your tavern. Think you need to get to the Keep first though. Good people over there. You’ll like it! Here, take this apple with you. It will be a nice pick-me-up for your travels.”

Bartholomew apologized again for his rudeness and thanked her for the apple. He put it away and started the final leg of his journey. He was excited as he walked. He judged that it would take him about two days walking to get to the mountains. He wasn’t sure how close the Castle Angels were once he was on the other side. He felt safe in thinking that it might take about four or five more days at most to get there. And THEN he would be on his way to his answers.

He set a fast pace for himself, his energy level high with expectation. The wooded area north of Morridin was much the same as that to the south – the trees’ giant skeletons of branches without leaves jutting out of the earth, the ground scattered with broken and decaying branches. Just walking through the place gave Bartholomew the heavy feeling of pain and despair and hopelessness. He was very glad that it was daylight and not the night hours that took him through this place. The boulders, now covered with mosses, that were three times his size and jutted out of the earth, told their story of the upheaval that took place so long ago. That took his mind back to the Tree of Sorrow in Morridin. Never had he seen such a sight in his life. There were no writings that he had read that prepared him for a sight such as he saw. The dragon form was so large and precise but in the form of a tree. It made you wonder what type of magic was used and how strong it was. It made him wonder if the curse on these lands could ever be lifted.

He kept track of the sun and knew that he would need to find a resting spot before too long. Nightfall was approaching and so would Shadow. He didn’t feel comfortable having Shadow join him in this place with all that it represented from the War of the Dragons. He figured he had another few hours before the sun set, not a lot of time when you didn’t know what was ahead of you or where it would lead. He ate the apple as he walked, not wanting to take pause in his journey.

However, Bartholomew started noticing little changes as he went along. There were more green grasses and ferns. He was startled when he heard his first bird calling, having gotten use to the only sounds he heard which were those of his own footsteps on the forest floor, snapping twigs in his rush to get to the mountain. He knew that he must find cover for Shadow soon. He also knew he didn’t want it to be here. He hoped that he would be clear of this forest before much longer.

After a short while, he suddenly burst clear of the forest. And, there ahead of him, were open fields dotted with boulders and trees green with leaves. There, within his sight, jutting majestically into the sky were mountains. Bartholomew knew that he was close for there were the Tonathium Mountains. The racing of his heart had nothing to do with his push through the forest and had everything to do with reaching his goal. Taking quick stock of the lay of the land, Bartholomew veered to the east where he saw some large rock formations. Maybe this will be a good place to spend the night and wait for Shadow. There would be a bit of protection for them both while he thought of how he was going to get to the other side of the mountains looming in front of him. As he prepared for this friends arrival, he let himself think back on his encounter with Kirey, who seemed to be a strange man. Bartholomew was still not sure how Kirey was able to answer his questions when he didn’t speak them out loud. Were they obvious questions that anyone would have asked? No, he didn’t think so. The fact that Kirey mentioned the forest as being cursed, how many would have thought that? Why couldn’t it have easily been because of some other type of disaster such as fire or something? Who would automatically have chosen a curse? And then there was the comment made about Shadow. Bartholomew would bet on his life that he had NOT mentioned Shadow to Kirey at all. He was so use to keeping Shadow a secret that he was not about to bring him up at a first meeting of a stranger. There were just too many things that Kirey seemed to know about him that it gave him pause as to how and why.

The sun was now setting, her fingers of pinks first coloring the soft clouds in the skies. As she set further in the west, the sky changed from pinks to amethyst to yellows to orange, each color bleeding into the next. It was a beautiful site and Bartholomew was glad to see such a glorious color display especially after the gloom of the land he just traversed. It gave him the calm feeling of acceptance, that what he was doing was right and that it was worth the unhappiness of leaving his family to seek his destiny. As he stood watching the setting sun, he noticed a large object in the sky, sharply outlined by the background of the sun’s colors. He knew that it was Shadow. The emotions from seeing the Tree of Sorrow were still strong within him and he needed to connect with Shadow, needed the reassurance that he was safe, that they were both a part of the other. Bartholomew knew that should anything ever happen to him, that would be the end of Shadow, just like if Shadow were to die, then so would he. The lives of dragons and their riders were as linked in life as they were in death. The intense feelings he had experienced were not only for the dragon that lost its life there in Morridin, but also for the life of the rider that was lost. He closed his eyes and offered a prayer to the gods that he and Shadow would be spared a death such as that and they would have a long life with each other. The words no sooner left his lips and he opened his eyes when he saw Shadow land. He removed his glove and walked over to his companion, his hand extended, and touched him. He was at peace again.

While he sat eating his bread thinking about the rest of his journey, he stopped in mid-chew. He had it! He knew just how he was going to get on the other side of the mountain. How utterly simple it was! He was a dragon rider after all and he did have a dragon. He and Shadow would fly to the other side tonight and that would put him that much closer to his dream. He completed his meal and shared his idea with Shadow. The moon was now in its place in the night’s sky and he would fly under the cover of relative darkness. Bartholomew made his preparations, mounted Shadow, and together they took off, soaring in the night sky with the moonlight as their guide. It felt wonderful to be on Shadow’s back again, the wind at his face and the power of his dragon between his legs. This felt right! This was home! This was how he wanted to be!

They soared up and over the Tonathium Mountains and onto the other side. There, in the moonlight, he saw his first glimpse of the lands of the Castle Angels. The castle stood majestically between the mountains, her lands stretching out to the base of the mountains which surrounded and protected her. He immediately found a peace and calm cover him. He was not expecting such a feeling. As he looked down from Shadow’s back, he felt strangely at home. They flew a bit longer, neither one eager to end their flight. Bartholomew had seen some old caves on the mountain side so they went there to spend the night. Then in the morning, he planned to go down and find the tavern and the man named Carl.

Unknown to Bartholomew or Shadow, their night ride had not gone unobserved. There were two people who had seen their arrival on the Castle Angels’ side of the Tonathium Mountains, each with their own thoughts about the events that were about to come.

created originally 1 June 2011