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It took the group over an hour to reach the bottom of the mountain. The sun was already dipping below the horizon as they reached the edge of the village. Nulak left two of the male orcs to stand guard over Zyk and Nox as she went to fetch the chief. The orcs in the village noticed their arrival, a few of them speaking in hushed tones and pointing their direction. It was clear from the looks on their faces that they were just as concerned about Nox as he was of them, but he didn’t understand why. The orcs were powerful warriors who not only outnumbered him, but were at least four times his size. It made him wonder if Nulak had been more truthful than he’d first thought. More than a few ducked into their huts and came back wielding either sword, ax, or hammer, as if ready for battle. Nox felt his fingers twitching at his side, wanting to have his spear at the ready. But he knew making an aggressive move would bring the wrath of the village down upon Zyk and himself. Instead he stood there with his arms crossed, tapping his foot nervously with his eyes fixed on the hut Nulak had disappeared into a few moments before.
Nox was getting more anxious and impatient as the moments crawled by. A crowd was starting to gather inside the village before Nulak finally reappeared from the hut, followed closely behind by another orc even taller than her. The chief, or so Nox assumed, had long dark braided hair, the sides of her head clean shaven so that the mottled green skin shone through. A metal breastplate covered her upper torso, made of enough steel to feed Nox and his mother for months if he were to sell it in Kald. Over her left shoulder she carried an iron maul that was bigger than his head with a full metal handle. Nox couldn’t stop his jaw from falling open. He’d never seen so much iron and steel in his life. Her weapon alone was worth a small fortune. It could have purchased a farm or a business outright, giving him a lifetime supply of income and food. He had no idea where the orcs had gotten such riches, but as he glanced around the small crowd, he realized she wasn’t alone in her wealth. Many of the villagers had their own small pieces of armor or steel weapons. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“You,” the chief called, leveling her maul at Nox’s head as she approached, her voice commanding. “Who are you? What are you doing out in the wilds by yourself?” She stopped only a couple feet from him, leaning down close, a growl forming in her throat. “And who sent you? Was it the Primes?”
Nox glanced at the spiked maul only a few inches from his head and swallowed hard. This was it, this was how he was going to die and all because he trusted an orc.
“I... We... uh... got lost in the H-Hollow,” he stammered, glancing between her furious dark eyes and the maul, terrified of what she’d do next. “I’m a s-scrounger. Nobody s-sent me.”
“Nulak!” the chief yelled, whipping around. “How dare you bring strangers into our midst! You’re supposed to be scouting ahead with the other warriors. You know the knights are hot on our trail. Why do you dally with such trifling matters as this?”
“They were lost and in danger,” Nulak replied, keeping her head bowed. “Our code—”
“You think the code matters when all of our lives are in danger?” the chief bellowed. “Look around you fool! There’s not enough here to defend us if the knights come knocking. Forget the code! Our way of life is threatened and we stand on the precipice of extinction and you want to follow rules!”
“There is no better time to follow the code than when things are most dire,” an old hunched orc man said, stepping into the fray. He held a long gnarled staff in his bony hands and he was covered in furs, feathers, dried plants, and leather pouches. Nox even spotted a rogue mushroom or two seemingly growing from his cloak. “That is why the orcish code survives. Because those in power understood its value in times of great need.”
“Bah!” the chief spat.
“Your emotions get the better of you Chief Varfu,” the old man said, pulling a small moldy pouch from inside his leather poncho. “Go make this tea and sit awhile. You’ll feel better.”
The chief looked as if she wanted to strike the old man, but with the entire village edging closer to listen, she merely stood her ground, anger radiating from every pore. “I don’t want your fucking tea. I want my people safe and out of the Jade Lowlands.”
“Then stick to the code,” he said softly, not backing down from her. “And let your warriors do the same.”
“Have it your way and let us all die then,” she snarled and stomped away back toward her hut, yelling at the others to get out of her way.
“My apologies,” the old man said to Nulak, resting his wrinkled hand gently on her arm. “Varfu’s heart is in the right place, but she is consumed by fear. Do not hold it against her.”
Nulak nodded, finally lifting her head from its bowed position.
“Now, tell me about your friends.”
Nulak took a deep breath. “This is Nox and Zyk,” she replied, pointing to each of them in turn. “I found them on the other side of the mountains. They were stalked by a Bledig, but we drove it off before it could attack. They claim to have been lost in the Hollow for some time.”
“We were lost in the Hollow,” Zyk said from Nox’s shoulder. “I thought you believed me Nulak?”
“My goodness,” the old man chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Well I didn’t expect that, I must say.”
“I do believe ya,” Nulak said with a smile. “Especially since you can talk and your friend here has a glowing crystal from deep underground. There’s no doubt that you were both in the Hollow.”
The old man took a step toward Nox, lifting his nose in the air. He took a few deep whiffs of the evening breeze. “Ah, a half elf. Most intriguing.” He reached out a hand toward Nox. “My name is Witan Gruul. I’m the head shaman of this tribe.”
Nox reluctantly took his cold stained hand. “Nox.”
“It’s very nice to meet you Nox,” Witan Gruul replied, still holding onto his hand. He pulled Nox a little closer and turned his hand over, rubbing his thumb across the platinum ring on his middle finger. “Well Nox, it looks like you’ve gone and gotten yourself into a bit of trouble of the magical variety.”
Nox pulled his hand away, taking a few steps back.
“Don’t fuss my dear boy, I mean you no harm,” he smiled, leaning against his staff. “I could sense this ring before you even got into the valley. I’m curious how you came across something so... intriguing.”
“We’d be happy to share,” Zyk replied quickly, not giving Nox a chance to respond.
“I’m pleased to hear it.” The old man pulled his furs a bit closer around him, knocking a mushroom off the side of it. “Now, if you don’t mind, these old bones of mine don’t take kindly to the chill of the night. Won’t you join me for dinner and a warm fire?”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and began to hobble away, heading into the village. Nox looked up at Nulak with an eyebrow raised. They hadn’t gotten the permission of the village chief to enter.
“Go on,” she said, gesturing toward the old man. “The shaman’s word is law around here. You’ll be fine.”
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Zyk asked.
“I have duties of my own to tend to. You’ll be well looked after.”
With that, she called to her two warriors, and the three of them headed back into the village. Nox hesitated for a moment, watching the old orc toddle away. Again he felt the sudden urge to run but there was a cold fear in his heart leftover from the chief's outburst. She’d said the Holy Knights were close by, trailing the orcs. It didn’t seem wise to be with them if they were being pursued, but being in the wilderness by himself with the knights on the prowl seemed much more dangerous. Besides, he only planned on staying a single night. After that Nulak had promised she would take them to the other side of the mountain.
With tentative steps, Nox followed after the shaman, keeping a few feet behind him at all times. The rest of the village watched him go with suspicious looks in their eyes. Whether they were concerned he’d hurt the shaman or that he was a spy, he wasn’t sure, but their stares made him uncomfortable. Nox was thankful when they finally reached the hut and slipped under the leather door flap, cutting them off from the rest of the village. Inside there were furs spread over the floor surrounding a small fire that burned low in a ring of stones. The walls were covered in plants, feathers, bones, and strange stones not unlike the crystal that Nox carried with him. In one corner was a pile of furs, which he assumed was the shaman’s bed. The interior smelled strongly of burning herbs with a trail of white smoke funneling out a small opening in the roof.
“Please, take a seat,” the old man said, gesturing to the ground near the fire.
Nox sat down near the ring of stones, pulling Zyk off his shoulders and placing him on the ground gently. The pair of them watched as the shaman hobbled around the hut, plucking things from the shelves while muttering to himself. After a moment he returned to the fire with a full kettle and placed it over the embers. At his side he dropped a few wooden cups and a pouch full of herbs.
“I find conversation pairs best with tea, don’t you?” he asked, looking at Nox.
“I... I don’t know. I’ve never had any.”
“Never had tea?” He glanced down at the fox. “Is he having me on?”
“I don’t even know what tea is.”
“My goodness,” Witan Gruul laughed. “So many strange things happening all in one day! First our warriors return with rescues in tow, one of them a fox that talks, and now two people are sitting in my home that had never had tea. Will wonders never cease?”
“Not to be rude...”
“I’m sure you don’t mean to be,” Gruul smiled, turning toward Nox with a nod. “But please continue.”
“I... okay.” Nox paused for a moment, not sure if the old man was joking or if he was being attentive.
“Please go on.”
“I’m not really sure what’s going on,” Nox continued. “Really, I’m just trying to get home to Kald, but Nulak said you might be able to help Zyk, so I agreed to stop briefly here first.”
“You did?” Zyk glanced up with a look of surprise on his face.
“You are a good friend,” the shaman nodded.
“That’s a generous judgment, but Zyk already knows that his journey is not one I wish to take part in.” Nox saw the fox’s ears droop slightly. “But I wanted to make sure he got a good start before we parted ways. Especially with the knights nearby and how they’d react to his... abilities.”
“Ah yes. All this nonsense about magic being illegal,” Witan Gruul scoffed. “King Ludari seems to revel in having power over others. Not only does he suppress his own people, but he tries to drive all others from his lands. If he’s not careful, he’ll soon be a king with no subjects, and that doesn’t make much of a king.” He turned his attention to Zyk. “It’s true, the knights would probably kill you on sight, or worse bring you to the capital city for experimentation. I hear the king's vizier is extremely interested in oddities from the Hollow these days. He seems to be quite the collector.”
“That’s why I told Nulak I’d come here,” Nox replied. “I don’t want that to happen.”
“Let’s start with the basics then,” Witan Gruul said, pulling the kettle from the fire and filling each of the cups in turn before sprinkling a few herbs into each. He handed them across the fire before settling back in place. “Tell me your story.”
“I guess I’ll start,” Nox said, holding the warm cup gently in his hands. He took a deep breath and began.
He launched into how he came to find himself in the Hollow. He told Witan Gruul about the strange room with the cylinder and how it called to him with an ethereal sound it seemed only he could hear. He mentioned the draugr coming to life and chasing him and his companions until they had no choice but to split up, the draugr being strangely attracted to the cylinder. The plummet into the ravine seemed to make even Zyk flinch. Then there were the spiders, the dreams, and the eventual release of Zyk when the clavis transformed into a ring. From there Zyk was able to take over the majority of it, explaining things from his perspective. As Nox listened he found it almost laughable how Zyk described him, as if he were some sort of warrior hero fighting the draugr with nothing but a spear and his own wits. It had been much different in his own mind and a lot less heroic. Eventually the story wound its way back to the mountains and the run in with the Bledig that Nulak and her group had saved them from.
“And after that, Nulak led us back here and now we’re talking to you,” Zyk finished, nodding his head. “So, what can you tell us?”
Witan Gruul laughed. “Well, I’m sure I could tell you many things. What would you like to know?”
“Do you know why Nox was chosen by the clavis? Who are the three pairs of eyes we kept seeing? I know I come from amongst the stars, but I can’t seem to remember what I am or why I’m here... is that something you might know too?”
“For one so small, your questions are quite large.”
Witan Gruul took a few small sips of his tea, letting silence fall between them. The cup seemed cool enough that Nox lifted it to his lips. The liquid was bitter, but it had an earthy richness he hadn’t expected. As the flavor developed across his tongue he caught hints of a honey-like sweetness that reminded him of the smell of wildflowers on the plains. He glanced down at Zyk who was impatiently lapping it up while not breaking eye contact with the shaman. Nox wasn’t sure he was even tasting the tea, but merely filling the empty space between them.
“I do not know why your friend was chosen by this item and I’m afraid I also don’t know what it is. I can sense a powerful magic emanating from it, something ancient, but it doesn’t seem to want to reveal any of its secrets outwardly. Whatever it is, you’ll have to find that out for yourself.” He glanced up at Nox. “May I try something?”
Nox eyed the old man suspiciously. “I... guess.”
“Give me your hand.”
Holding out his left hand with the ring on it, Nox watched as the old man waved his hand over the ring, chanting softly under his breath as he closed his eyes. A moment later the ring began to glow green, filling the hut with a vernal light. Nox could feel the warmth emanating from the metal and a strange prickle across his skin that felt oddly familiar. Somehow he knew it was the touch of magic, but he didn’t understand why he knew it. The old man opened his eyes once again and examined the ring further, turning Nox’s hand over as he did so.
“Well, that didn’t help much,” he sighed, letting the hand go. The glow slowly faded. “However, I will say that what your friend says is correct. This ring is bound to you. Unless you were to perish or lose your hand, I’d say you’re stuck with it.”
“Great,” Nox sighed, pulling his hand back. “Just what I was hoping for.”
The old man turned to Zyk. “I also don’t know what you are or why you’re here my small friend.” This time Witan Gruul did not smile, but looked disappointed he didn’t have an answer. “I can tell you are not of this world, but I don’t have a name for or knowledge of your kind.”
It was Zyk’s turn to sigh, plopping his butt down on the ground.
“However, I might be able to help with the eyes.” He turned to Nox. “Can you tell me what they looked like?”
Nox closed his eyes, bringing his dreams into his mind’s eye. “There was a dark blue pair with slitted pupils, a beady brown pair, and a large black pair that looked as if the night sky had been spilled across them.” He paused. “But after I saw them, I saw something else. A massive dark figure, lightning, and chains.”
“Hmm,” the shaman hummed. “That last figure sounds dark, but I’m afraid I have no reference for it. Another mystery.”
“It’s the one that drove the eyes away. They seemed scared of it.”
“That seems unlikely,” Witan Gruul smiled. “The eyes you’re describing are the same as the gods that once walked Lycoris.”
“The gods are dead,” Nox sighed. He couldn’t believe he’d almost started believing the old geezer. “Everyone knows that.”
“Their bodies are dead,” he replied. “But it’s not possible to truly kill a god, at least not that I’m aware of.”
“So you’re telling me the gods, the ones that died over a thousand years ago, are talking to me?”
“Of course.”
“Look gramps,” Nox said, pushing himself to his feet, tired of the charade. “I don’t know what kinds of crazy mushrooms you’ve been brewing in here, but this is a bit beyond what I’m willing to believe.”
“Belief has nothing to do with whether something exists or not,” Witan Gruul replied, his voice suddenly serious. “You may believe the sky is red, but that doesn’t stop it from being blue. What you believe is immaterial, but what is true remains constant.”
“How do you know it’s true then?”
“Because I’ve seen them myself, just as you described.” The old man gestured back to the floor and Nox took his seat once again, the look of surprise clear on his face. “Those of us who commune with magic have a lot more connection than you might realize. There’s a reason King Ludari doesn’t want his subjects to practice the arcane. It undermines his power. His and his false god.”
“Then what about this dark figure Nox has seen?” Zyk asked. “Is that a god too?”
“I’m not certain. It’s possible it was just your dreams taking over. Although it does cause me some concern. That and the existence of the draugr in the Hollow. Until now I thought that kind of magic was impossible.” He took another sip from his cup. “But one hears many things and you aren’t the first to mention dark things in the world. The thread of magic that runs through Lycoris is growing thinner and weaker with every passing year and what’s left feels warped and unfamiliar. At first I thought I was just getting weaker myself, but all the Witan have felt it across the tribes. Something is amiss, twisting the very essence of the world out of balance, but none of us can find an answer. Those who once communed with the gods in their youth, although a seldom occurrence, find it impossible to do now, blocked by an unknown force. Even the most powerful among us are greatly diminished.” He paused for a moment. “It’s almost as if we have no power at all.”
“What does that mean?” Zyk asked, his golden eyes fixed on the shaman.
“I wish I knew, my friend,” he sighed. “The only thing that’s certain is that Lycoris is dying, but nobody seems to know why.”