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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1998587
Chapter 2:The Eyes and Ears of Nessea
         With soft earth beneath and a dim moon above, Camarron rode through the dark Nessean forest that lined the eastern border of Falindraught. He would soon cross over into the open hills and valleys of Laghorne, from there his trip would be much easier. He rode carefully in his dark surroundings; his horse’s head was low, watching for roots or rocks that it might stumble upon.

             Cam himself peered through the veiled blackness around him keeping watch, hoping to himself that he would both at once be lost and found to those he ran from and those he seeks. The silence was deafening to him, it made him uneasy and squirm on his steed whose breath puffed out small fog clouds in front of Cam. All that he heard was his horse’s hooves clopping atop the dark wet soil, even that was too quiet for him, he remembered back in the cities when he would ride through town and the steps of any horse would drive him mad as they trotted along the cobblestone paths. He kicked himself and wished for even some semblance of noise to fill this dead forest.

             He looked straight ahead for a moment and pulled hard on the reins, the horse stopped, although hesitantly and felt stifled beneath him and trotting slowly in circles, it was a beast to control and he had difficulty controlling the warhorse as it was not his own and wanted to ride constantly beneath the fidgety human but was constantly stopped or slowed by him. It was a thick bodied horse with a dark brown coat that shimmered in sunlight and appeared blacker than it truly was at nightfall.

Cam scratched his head and ached his mind trying to remember this area. Then he caught his blunder, that boulder there, the hill behind him and the fallen tree near the brook; he recalled stopping here to read his map for a way out of the woods some time ago.

             “Dammit, dammit, dammit.” He whispered to himself as he pulled the map from his saddlebag, his foot began to tap the stirrup impatiently as he tried to read in what little moonlight poured through the tree tops. He reached for something in his coat pocket and pulled out a small vial, he uncorked it and held his fingers over the exposed top, letting a small bit of air get in then quickly closed it back up and shook the vial for a few seconds. In a moment it began to glow faintly “that should be fine for now,” he whispered as he raised it the map a second time with more light this try.

             “I’ve been through several fields and clearings but none are shown on this map, perhaps they’re more recent?” Cam talked with himself for a few minutes as he poured over his maps and anything else to find his way out of the dark. But things stirred in the underbrush.

             

“This map can’t be this outdated so soon, surely I’ve been through at least half of this damnable forest at least.” Cam’s patience wore thin, he held his cloak tighter around him as a howling wind swept through the trees, leaves rained around him.

             “I always find that maps are useless in forests,” a small voice spoke out amongst the trees; Cam raised his head, his eyes shooting across the bushes and trees to find the one who spoke. 

             “Who’s there? Come out.” He barked, grabbing the reins to ready for a quick retreat.

             “Maps, it seems, are far more suited to towns and countries, the woods however are ever changing and chaotic in nature. Could maps even possibly imagine to guide these trees and brushlands? No, these things guide maps.”

             Cam’s eyes thinned as he continued scanning when a small figure presented itself, a fox red as autumn came through the darkness and sat down in front of Cam’s horse, waiting. Cam smiled and stepped off his horse and strolled over to the fox.

             “My, my, the great Camarron Ullo, Master of the Bright Bottle Guild here, literally and figuratively is stepping off his high horse to speak with a humble fox of the forest. Quite the event, next the moon will turn blood red and the end will be nigh upon us.”

             “You’re aware I know you’re not actually the sly and clever type that you would have travelers believe don’t you Fenric?” Fenric’s head tilted in confusion, “I’m not? I seem to be clever enough to sneak up on you aren’t I? Didn’t you just hear my little soliloquy?”

             “I’m fairly certain that was not a soliloquy but, as is evident, the ability to speak does not warrant intelligence, nor vice versa.” The fox puffed and turned as he walked away, “Well you’re not the slightest bit fun are you?”

             “No, sorry, it seems I’ve lost my way, could you show me the way out of this damned forest?” Fenric stopped and circled back again with a foxy grin. “Why? Is the great Camarron lost?”

             “Yes, I just told you I was, and furthermore really don’t know where or why you keep hoisting arrogance upon my character, really I don’t. What do I do that deserves that treatment?”

             “Oh it's clear as a sign at a fork.” He spoke with both venom and his usual mocking tone in his voice. “It’s in your speech, the way you carry yourself even through the mud and muck, this prideful swagger that surrounds you, you reek of it. Also, and most important, the fact that you see an old friend for the first time in years and the most you ask of him is the quickest route away from him. And not from any selfish feelings either, at least that I could understand, but this idea that you’re too good for my company any longer, that you’re above the shenanigans of those thought to be below you. That could be where or why I’ve found it.”

             “You’re really grasping at straws right now.” Fenric scoffed and walked up onto a small rock and laid down staring back at Cam, this time his eyes were sharp, tiny yellow daggers in the dark. He turned and looked up the road to his left. “Follow that road up and don’t stop until you hit a large moss covered boulder, take a left and follow the brook that runs from that boulder and follow it, it will take you eastward out of the forest to your lovely home. Does that help?”

             “It does tremendously, thank you Fenric.” Cam bowed to his furry host then waddled back to his brown Destrier and began putting his maps and vials away.

             “Fenric, if it would be alright with you, could you find a way to take a message to Falinsar?” Fenric took a deep scornful breath, “Why, what would you have me say to the Dwarves?” Cam answered as he climbed unto his horse, straining as he did so.

             “Inform them, if they are not already aware, that an army marches through their lands in the north and might soon be upon them within a week’s time, maybe two at the pace they seemed to travel.”

             “And to whom would you like me to tell this?”

             “Our old friend Martin, he’s staying at an inn outside Falinsar, he should have the connections possible so that they might listen to him.” Cam had the reins and began to stroll up the path laid out to him by Fenric, the fox followed close behind.

             “Martin? What’s that rascal doing in Falinsar? Wasn’t he one of the apprentices you taught?”

             “Indeed he was, but no longer, he himself is a full alchemist now. He’s gone to Falinsar in hopes of obtaining land in the city for a new chapter of our Guild. He stays at the Stone Hearth inn up the road from Falinsar, the owners a childhood friend of his or some other nonsense.”

             “Would the Council of Ten listen to him?”

             “They know of his affiliations and status and would take his word, maybe.”

             “You don’t seem very sure,” said the fox sneering, “I hope this won’t be a waste of everyone’s time, especially mine.”

             “And why would time be so precious to you? Do you have some mystery animal gala you must be at?” Cam spoke with no small amount of spite; the foxes ears went down behind his head, his face would be steaming red if you could see under the fur. He jumped up onto a nearby rock adjacent to the road ahead of the horse and his rider.

             “I have things I attend to you know. Maybe I don’t have some fancy guild to look after but the affairs of this forest are no less important to me than your Alchemists are to you.”   

Cam stopped next to Fenric and there was a moment of uneasy silence between the two until he placed his hand on the fox’s small head for lack of a shoulder and gave him a gentle pat as to console him.

             “You must excuse my arrogance; I don’t always think of others as I should, it’s true. If you do not wish to go find Martin it is fine, I’m sure the Dwarves have scouts all across this land for such an invasion. For all we know, they probably march on this army as we speak.” Fenric shifted under Cam’s hand and jumped down the rock, avoiding eye contact with him.

             “Actually, I don’t think that would be true.”

             “Why? What do you know?” a brief sigh came from the auburn fox.

             “There are many things I see through these woods, one such is Falindraught’s Garrison near Falinsar, and it’s been empty for more than a month now.”

             “Where have they gone to?” He said, concern breaking through his once completely calm face.

             “They marched south to Falinsorn, near the border to deter the armies from Vernreich.” Eyes wide, Cam grasped his reins tightly, he began kicking wildly as his horse had a spasm from the sudden influx of orders and commands.

“I’m gone from civilization for a month and a half and war is wrought upon every corner of the realm?” He spat as his horse picked up speed, the fox followed for a moment, “Do you still need me to go to Martin?”

“Yes, it’s more vital now than ever, if I’d known such a thing happened sooner I would’ve gone myself.” He began yelling as he rode off, Fenric turned opposite him and ran straight through the underbrush towards the inn near Falinsar as clouds covered the moon and darkened the sky and the wind howled for the rest of the cold dark night. Fenric then winced and stopped dead in his tracks and quickly yelled “Cam?” at the top of his small lungs.

“Yes?” Echoed back at him through the brush and birchwoods.

“When you reach the tall oak at a fork, take the right lane.” There was a moment of silence as he waited for an answer.

“Thanks.” was all that came as the yells from the two was replaced by the sounds of the forest coming to life as they parted to their destinations.

© Copyright 2014 M.S.Canyon (m.s.canyon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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