A day after leaving the banks of the Gambury River, Stonebron Falls came into sight. At any other time, on any other day, the magnificent sight would have filled young Bhrán’s heart with awe. Yet all the boy felt was sorrow and loss.
In less than a year, he’d lost not only his mother but his father, too. And though his heart was filled with grief, he had no time to mourn. Instead, he had to flee for his life or suffer the same fate his father had.
The boy’s hand shifted to the hilt of Wolf Fang, which hung from a makeshift sheath on his belt. Every time he touched the sword, it felt like he was touching his father’s hand. In fact, it felt like he was somehow connected to all the Ó Déaghain men who’d come before him. He was just the latest link in an ancient, very long chain.
The trouble with chains was that they could be used to confine and trap, which was precisely how he felt. He felt chained to his family’s oath, and trapped by the inevitability of what was to come. Like all the Ó Déaghains who’d gone before him, he was destined to fight and die in a war that never seemed to end. How was that fair? What sense did it make to continually, generation after generation, sacrifice lives without any real change?
No, Suds had started this whole series of never-ending deaths with the best of intentions, but the war was not working. All they’d achieved was a bloody stalemate. There were vast periods of time where one side or the other had the upper hand, but in a thousand years, neither side had achieved a true victory.
True, the plague now ravishing Yedinerth was turning the war in the Evil Ones’ favor, but was this shift in fortune just another example of the ebb and flow in the never-ending struggle between light and darkness?
Bhrán had no idea of the truth of things. All he knew was, his family had borne the brunt of an unjust war between two powers that never seemed to care about the cost to those the violence touched.
The priest spoke of the love of the Lords, but if the Lords truly loved the people of Yedinerth, then why did they allow the war to persist? If they were all-powerful, as the priests proclaimed, why didn’t they step in to save the innocent?
Maybe Suds was right. The Lords were merely the creations of men, used to frighten the uneducated into obeying outdated laws. Laws like the one forbidding the use of your Lords’ name in public.
Speaking his name aloud to Suds was a liberating and defiant gesture that made him feel like he had at least a little control over his destiny and life.
By speaking his name aloud, he’d defied not only the Lords but also the Evil Ones. It was his way of showing he feared them not. It was true that he would stand in his father’s stead, to face down those who’d inflicted so much pain. But he would not do it as part of an army consisting solely of the race of Men and Wolf Bloods, for that way failure lay.
The old ways were not working, so he would need to find a new way to defeat darkness, and he would do it in the name of justice, not the names of the Lords.
No, even at their greatest, the race of Men could not defeat the Evil Ones alone. Only if the whole of Yedinerth united, could the propagators of pain be driven from the land. Yet, never in history had all three major races united in one cause, so why would they now?
“We’ll pass through the shielding spell soon,” Suds said, waking the boy from his dark thoughts. “The spell that protects this place is like the one protecting my home in The Jagged Forest. No one but those I permit can penetrate it.”
Bhrán just nodded and stroked Dilly’s nose. The Elf stared at the boy for a long moment, then looked toward the waterfall.
“Bhrán, I know how much you’re hurting....”
“Do you?” the boy growled, cutting the Elf off. “Yet, for a thousand years, you’ve watched my kin die and have done nothing to stop the death. In fact, time and time again, you’ve trained the men of my family to fight and die.”
The Elf stopped in his tracks and spun on the boy. “I loved your father like a brother, as did I love them all!”
“Yet, you continue to repeat the cycle. Let me guess, you are planning to train me to go to war, just like you did with my Da and his Da before him. What has that achieved, Suds?”
The Elf stared at the boy with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief.
“Well?” the boy pushed. “What has all the death achieved? Are the Evil Ones no more? Has darkness been driven from our land?”
The Elf stared off into the distance and whispered, “No.”
“That’s right! My Da is dead, and his death achieved nothing!”
The Elf’s gaze fixed back on his young companion. “That’s not true. His sacrifice meant you lived.”
Tears filled Bhrán’s eyes. “Don’t you think I know that! He died so I could live, and now I carry that debt on my shoulders. I can’t let his death be for nothing, but I know the future you see for me is the wrong one.”
The Elf’s face creased with confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Suds, for a thousand years, you’ve prepared my kin for war, and all have died. And what has all that sacrifice been for?”
The Elf blinked. “We have held the Evil Ones at bay for a millennium. Is that not worth the sacrifice?”
Bhrán shook his head. “No, Suds, it’s not. This war has to end, and for that to happen, your strategy has to change.”
The Elf stared at the boy for a long moment, then looked toward the waterfall. “Maybe you’re right, Young Master, but change how?”
“That, Suds, I do not know.”
The Elf placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know not, either. But I give you my word. Together, we will find the answer. Now come.”
The trio started walking again, and within minutes, Bhrán felt a tingle as he entered the Elven shielding spell that protected Suds weapons cache.
Suds led Bhrán and Dilly toward the foaming water of the falls. As they drew close, the water parted, revealing an entrance to a vast cave.
Veins of strange stones that gave off light ran from the entrance to the underground hideout and all the way to its depths, illuminating their path.
As they entered, the boy’s attention turned to the ornate Elven artwork covering the walls. The paintings moved and danced as they told stories of a long-forgotten time.
“What is this place?” Bhrán asked as his eyes darted all around the cave.
“Long ago, when Elves were young, and Yedinerth was still forming, this was the Elven entrance to the realm of the Dwarves. Back then, my kind was welcomed beneath the earth and stone, and Dwarf magic combined with ours to form this place.”
“You mean this cave leads to the underground lands of King Tunmim Steelchest?”
“It does, but the way into the Dwarves’ kingdom hasn’t been used in thousands of years.”
“Why?”
“When Men came to Yedinerth, the Dwarves dug even deeper below the earth and shunned all surface dwellers. Now, the Dwarves only come to the surface to trade that which they pried from the rock and stone.”
“But the doorway to their kingdom is still there?”
“Yes, but it has not opened in thousands of years.”
Bhrán walked deeper into the cavernous expanse and marveled at its beauty. Precious stones adorned every surface as the artworks cavorted across the walls.
A stream of the clearest water he’d ever seen, ran through the cave’s center and a cool breeze ruffled his thick, black hair.
His mouth then fell wide as a giant white stag appeared from nowhere and began lapping at the water. The animal’s antlers were immense, and its fur seemed to emit a light of its own.
“I have never seen an animal as beautiful as that,” Bhrán breathed as he took in the stag’s magnificence.
The boy’s eyes then shifted to a white tree, which swayed in the breeze. He’d first assumed the tree to be part of the artwork adorning the cave’s wall. But he could now see the tree was actually a living thing.
Bhrán ventured deeper still into the cave and followed the stream with his gaze. He let out a gasp of surprise as an entire woodland scene met his eyes. Only, there were no greens and browns, just pure white. Every plant and creature Bhrán laid eyes on shared the same albinism of the stag and tree he’d seen only moments earlier.
“How is this possible?” Bhrán whispered.
Suds moved to his side. “Long ago, the Dwarves brought many of the species of the surface below to their kingdom. Their magic made those species the way you see them now.”
Just then, a pure white deer darted past them, and it turned its head in their direction. Bhrán pointed to the animal and said, “It has no eyes!”
“It must have ventured up here from the deepest parts of these lands, for the beasts of the true dark are blind and have no need of eyes.”
“This is incredible!” Bhrán exclaimed as he looked at the Elf beside him. “Does the Dwarves’ entire realm mirror the beasts and plants of our world?”
Suds nodded. “For the most part, yes. They have entire fields and farms below the surface, as well as hunting grounds, towns and cities. Do you know, the Dwarves were the first race to inhabit Yedinerth.”
Bhrán’s eyes went wide with surprise. “I thought the Elves were the first race.”
“Many think that. But the Dwarves were born from the rock of this world, and the Elves from the stars. Do not get me wrong, my kind arrived on Yedinerth only a few thousand years after the Dwarves, which to my kind, is a blink of an eye.”
“Are Dwarves immortal, like Elves?”
Suds shook his head. “No, but their lifespan is far longer than that of Men. Now come, let us clean ourselves after the long journey we’ve had.”
Bhrán watched as Suds turned and gestured to a house exactly like the one they’d left behind in The Jagged Forest, only perfectly white. How had he not seen it when he’d ventured deeper into the cave?
As if reading the boy’s mind, Suds said. “It takes a while for the eyes of surface dwellers to see all the cave has to offer. The longer we are below ground, the more you will see. Now come, let us bathe, then eat.”
***
Bhrán soaked in the bath for more than an hour, but no matter how long he lay there, the water remained the same perfect, warm temperature of when he first entered.
The bath was yet another instance of the magic at work in this place.
For example, a fire burned in the hearth, but it never needed more logs or gave off any smoke. The candles on the wall burned far brighter than they should and never diminished.
These were just a few of the enchantments Bhrán could see, and he questioned what other wonders he may have missed.
As he lay there, allowing the warm water to soak away his aches and pains, he considered what other magic dwelt within not only this cave, but Suds.
Clearly, the Elf was far more powerful than he let on, but why didn’t he use that magic in direct conflict with the enemy? Sure, he threw up a shield to protect them from incoming arrows, but why had he not struck out at the Evil Ones’ servants with a spell?
Indeed, any sorcerer capable of performing the magic Bhrán had witnessed was more than capable of striking someone down?
“Young Master, our meal will soon be ready,” Suds called from the other room.
Bhrán stood from the bath then dried himself off. He then approached the bed, on which lay new clothes that no doubt fitted him perfectly.
As he dressed, the boy’s thoughts went to the Dwarves that dwelt deep beneath the earth below them.
He had no idea that they, too, possessed magic. He’d always pictured them as short, gruff creatures who were slow of mind and solitary in the extreme.
He knew of the Dwarf Mine of Calbreath and one other in Winterdale, but stories of the Dwarves who worked the mines were few and far between. It was clear everyone underestimated the Dwarves, and maybe that was what they wanted.
“Bhrán, come before your food gets cold.”
“Coming,” the boy yelled back as he slid his feet into the softest boots he’d ever worn.
As he turned to the door, his eyes settled on Wolf Fang, resting against the wall in the corner of the room.
The sword was a constant reminder of the legacy he had to uphold. A legacy that weighed on him significantly.
The story his father had revealed to him about how Wolf Bloods came into being made it sound like the king, the Wizards and Suds were doing his people a favor. The oath undid a curse and returned them to the realm of Men. However, that was not how he saw it.
Since his father’s death, Bhrán had thought long and hard about the tale. He now saw it as a story of indentured servitude. If the oath were broken at any point, then whoever broke the commitments would be thrown back into the cursed state of their long-dead kin.
He had no doubt Suds meant no ill harm when creating the spell with the Wizard King, but the Elf clearly never took into consideration the thousands of lives the oath would impact upon.
Maybe, immortal beings such as Elves were incapable of fully understanding what mortals experienced and went through. After all, a mortal’s life span was but a blink of an eye to an Elf.
Yet, in its own way, the oath was almost as unjust as the original Werewolf curse. After all, how could one individual predetermine the lives of his kin until the end of time? Where did such decisions leave free will?
For a thousand years, the lives of his kin were at the mercy of an oath made by an individual trying to escape a terrible situation.
A knock at the door caused Bhrán to jump.
“Is everything alright?” Suds asked from the other side of the door.
“Aye, I’m coming.”
Bhrán exited his bedroom, which opened onto the main room of the house. The smell of cooked meat instantly assailed his nostrils, and his mouth started watering.
Suds gestured to the table, which was covered with plates of meat, vegetables, cheese and bread.
“That all looks amazing,” Bhrán said as his stomach began to growl.
“Thank you,” Suds replied as he gestured to a chair. “Have a seat and dig in.”
The boy did as the Elf asked and quickly started piling food onto his empty plate. As he shoveled food into his mouth, all thoughts of injustices and unfair deaths left his mind. At that moment, he was just an eleven-year-old boy who wanted to fill his belly.
Suds took the chair across from Bhrán and started filling his plate too, albeit at a much slower and refined rate.
The Elf smiled as he watched the boy eat ravenously, then he too began to nibble at his food.
For an hour, not a word passed between them. Instead, as was the custom of the boy’s people, they ate in silence.
As Bhrán mopped up the last of the gravy on his plate with a thick wedge of bread, Suds filled his pipe with leaf and lit it.
The Elf then sat back and put his feet on the table, which took the boy off guard. Such an act back home would have been seen as disrespectful, though Bhrán knew Suds’ outlook on these things was somewhat different from his.
He decided that what was good for the goose was good for the gander.
“That was wonderful,” Bhrán said as he slid his plate away from him. He then sat back and placed his feet up on the table, too.
Suds nodded as he puffed out a series of smoke circles. “And you’ve had enough?” the Elf asked between smoke rings.
“For now, but I might have seconds when this lot has settled,” the boy replied as he patted his bulging stomach.
Suds chuckled. “You’re so much like your father when he was around your age. He could eat an Elf out of house and home.”
The boy looked at his empty plate as his mind turned to his dead father. “I won’t follow in his footsteps. You know that, don’t you?”
The Elf eyed the boy for a moment. “At the river, you said you wanted to avenge him and all the innocent who’d died because of the Evil Ones.”
“I know what I said, and I do want justice for my Da and everyone else. But fruitlessly going to war isn’t the way.”
“Then what is the way?”
Bhrán sighed and sat back in his chair so he could stare at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”
Suds stood and moved over to the fireplace. As he stared at the flames, he said, “I will admit, over the past few hundred years, I have started to think we need a new direction to achieve victory, but the path forward alludes me. You may be right, Bhrán. Maybe now is the time for a new strategy. One that will catch the enemy off guard.”
The boy yawned. “I am tired of all this talk of war. Tell me a tale of when my father was young, and you and he had fun.”
Suds pondered this, then smiled. “I remember the time your father wanted to sneak out of the camp to visit with your mother. The trouble was, the encampment had sentries and guards everywhere. These soldiers were assigned the duty of not only keeping unwanted attackers out, but lovesick soldiers like your father in.”
“What did you and Da do?” Bhrán asked, his eyes drooping. “As you may have noticed, I know a trick or two. I cast a spell that froze the guards and sentries, and your father got to spend the night with his new wife. When he returned in the morning, I released those under my spell, and they were none the wiser.”
Bhrán yawned again, then said, “Tell me another. About my mother this time.”
Suds smiled as he remembered her face. “My, but she was fair,” the Elf said as he turned to look back at the boy. His smile broadened when he saw the youth asleep in the chair.
Suds placed his pipe on the mantle above the fire, then quietly moved to the sleeping boy and picked him up. He then carried him to bed, where Bhrán slept for two days straight.