Roots - Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty: Garenford

There he stood atop a high hillock, billowing gray cloak hung from his thin scarecrow of a body and gnarled staff in hand. The wrinkles on the back of his wrists stood out in a veiny grip as he used the long wooden stave to walk down the hill. His hat was missing but his height without it still took Aldon by surprise after all these years. A slight limp in his step and shake in his hands grew until he reached the flat, mossy ground.
Aldon stared hard at him, eyes raking over his old friend’s face. New lines creased the man’s forehead and cheeks atop his now-gaunt face. The shape of his skull was more visible now as his cheekbones stood out sharply and his nose seemed longer.
How could he have possibly aged so much in such a short time?
“I assume you have a few questions do you not?” His baritone voice rumbled. Aldon could feel the notes thrumming in his chest. “Well ask away now for we do not have long. We must be on the road in an hour at best to meet Briar.”
Aldon was struck dumb. His mouth fell open wider and wider until he was sure ants would crawl in.
“You know Briar? But how, he’s been hidden away in the woods for years.”
Garenford smiled, the skin stretching tight across his mouth. “Oh I knew him long before his hermit days. We went to school together under the teachings of the Spiritblades for many years in our youth as I’m sure he neglected to tell you.”
Aldon picked at a rock with his boot. “He mentioned the school.”
Garenford nodded knowingly as he always did and puffed on his pipe, deep in thought.
“But how did you know him? Were you a spiritblade too, Garenford?” Aldon asked and stepped forward to get a better look at a man he thought he knew.
“Oh no, I was just there to learn all I could. I had always been fascinated with the sheer amount of information in this world. If everyone had but a fraction of it; we would live in such a better place.” He paused in thought for a moment again. “Do you remember the man who told him about the value of knowledge? The one who was left in a gambling situation with some men?” Garenford asked.” He may have told you about it. Briar always had the tendency to tell the stories of lesser importance yet brand them with some deep hidden meaning.”
Aldon nodded as he remembered the story clearly.
Garenford pointed to his chest and chuckled deep in his throat.
“That was you.” Aldon whispered, a hesitant smile spreading across his face.
“Indeed. I had bet a few gentlemen I could pour all of their ale into one container much smaller than a single of their mugs without spilling a drop; and they didn’t find it as funny as I did when it worked.”
“I knew you had some kind of magic!”
“Of course not. I merely poured them all into my mouth.”
Aldon laughed for the first time in as long as he could remember which seemed to wake him up. It was like a new sense had been renewed to his mind; like something he had forgotten when he grew up. It was then he noticed just how much he had changed and how quickly it had been forced upon him. How his last few months before adulthood were stolen from him and replaced with the terrors of warfare and death.
He looked sheepishly at the dagger still clutched tightly in his hand. He dropped it into the soil with a thump and fell to his knees.
Garenford closed his eyes and held his arms out at his sides.“The toils of adulthood and trials of life are hard. Yet nothing compared to the terrifying horrors of losing those you love to steel and fire.” Garenford recited as if written on the inner side of his eyelids.”But fear not for the powers of love and friendship can forge such a shield against any force of hate. Stay close to those who share in your feelings and make bonds to hold you together.”
A stout wind began to blow fiercely, rustling through the trees and foliage around.
Aldon breathed in deeply and looked up into Garenford’s glittering pale eyes and for a second thought he might be--
“Now, I’m sure you are wondering where it is we have brought you. Well, actually Took is the one who found you. He kept going on about some elf the trees were talking about.” He froze suddenly and shook his head. “Anyway, this is the Brosco: the inner forest of the forest. It is here the trees of old protect from any outside harm or dark force, and where the sprites like Took reside.” He said motioning to the small creature beside him. “Took here found me a long time ago wandering the woods aimlessly. I had just come from the city and needed somewhere to clear my thoughts. I saw him sitting there upon a log whistling such a cheery tune I could not help but to ask him its name.”
“Waters of the Broad.” Took piped with his light voice and smiling. Garenford nodded and began to whistle a whimsical melody with a slow tempo that would rise then slow; back and forth like the tide. Aldon listened to the music and lost track of track of time. He was startled when he found the others already making preparations to leave and studying a map.
“Is it time already?” He asked sorely. His feet were already tired of all the walking he had done constantly and ached all over. His face was still stiff and tender while his chest burned and stung like bee stings. “I was still enjoying the music.”
Garenford looked to Took then back to Aldon. “We stopped whistling over half an hour ago. We didn’t have long to stay remember?”
Aldon shook his head and rubbed his temples with both hands.
Have I really been out that long? But I was fully aware I was awake and watching the trees. The music was so surreal, it had to be real.
“How do you explain such a thing? To be awake and asleep at the same time? I know what I was hearing and seeing yet it passed in a second. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.”
“The Brosco is no ordinary place, elf. It is ancient and older than time itself. Some say it speaks to those who listen.” Took chimed in with a grave tone. “I would advise you be careful though in what you hear. This forest has claimed many minds and lives.” And with that he shouldered his small pack consisting of a large leaf holding his belongings, and led the way through a veil of vines.
“Shouldn’t be hard to find, Garenford, no worries. He did say atop the cliff didn’t he?” The small sprite asked cheerily.
“Yes, at the very peak of Bittercup Bluff, facing south and braving the storm. I don’t understand why he would choose such a precarious location but I deigned it unworthy of asking as I had not seen him in decades.” Garenford mused. “I also find it brainless of the town to continue its march in this storm. Ridiculous! Can they not see this is no ordinary bout of unruly weather?”
Garenford always knows more than he lets on, but what I would like to know is he finds them out in the first place.
“What is it then? What has come upon our small town with such animosity and power?”
Garenford turned to Aldon, weary and looking older than Aldon had ever seen him. “Such a darkness as you could only imagine.” He turned his back to Aldon once more and continued walking.
The quiet pressed in on Aldon until he realized he had stopped breathing and sucked in a lungful.
“This place has seen many things, elf, and will see many more. But none have seen all of it.” Took said quietly, slowing beside Aldon as Garenford continued on, stick held out slightly.
“So you’re a sprite right?” Aldon said almost embarrassed. “What can you do?”
The small man shrugged his tiny shoulders. “We can sing and dance very well and cook many different things you can find right here in the forest. Is that what you are asking?”
Aldon found himself stuck now and wished he hadn’t said anything at all. “No, I meant, something sort of..” He paused for a moment. “Special.”
Took nodded in understanding and stroked his chin. “I have seen very few outsiders such as yourself and him.” He said motioning to Garenford. “So those I know well can do everything I can just as well if not better. But from what I’ve seen of you, I think we see things differently.”
“Like how?”
“Oh, like the trees for example. You see them but do not watch them.”
Aldon paused and almost stopped. His curiosity was indeed peaked. “Watch what?”
“Them. Their expressions. They make faces just like you and I they most assuredly do.”
“Wow. I’ve never seen such a thing. Unless you count an ent.”
Took waved his hand as if batting away a foul smell. “The ents here are no longer welcome in the Brosco. They have grown fat and lazy, covered in fungus and weeds. We don’t allow such reckless behavior of our trees here.”
Aldon had just met Took and didn’t yet know how he, or any sprite for that matter, would act when agitated; leaving Aldon to continue staring at the passage of time around him.
The trails were wide and had a deep girth as if for some larger beings to pass unhindered, with smooth soil and the rich scent of pine. On all sides were trees and more trees until they blotted out anything beyond. In the distance were only the rare streams of light or lightning flash, yet the entirety of the inner world of the forest was illuminated as if by the sun. A warm, steady gaze of light with no strong points or weak spots as fires tends to provide. Aldon kept the questions to himself for now and attempted to keep back to give the others their space.
“Aldon, hurry up now; we have no time to waste. Briar is waiting for us on top of a mountain and I fear for the storm’s wrath there. Hurry.”
And so they trudged on in silence, the only noise in the inner forest their footsteps and the occasional groan of the ancient wood. They quickened their pace despite Aldon’s protests for Garenford’s sake. The trees and foliage passed quickly then as his ragged breathing and pack clanging filled his ears and mind. He cringed at every tense moment he thought his skin would tear or rip across the scabs. He heeded nothing to the others’ words as they called back small comments and plans; instead choosing to focus on his wounds.
What will I do in a fight? I can’t stretch to swing or attack and I surely can’t dodge. I’m useless in any type of battle and will only be a waste of time to Briar. Maybe I should just tell the others—
“Get down!” Garenford’s mighty voice boomed, suddenly an echo to it.
An enormous explosion of sound tore the ground from beneath Aldon and threw him into the air. He landed with a slide and avoided harm, only for the debris and pebbles to down on him and sting his wounds. He wiped the detritus from his eyes and dived for cover. The extreme white light that blanketed his surroundings continued for several seconds before fading away, bleaching red spots in Aldon’s vision. He looked from behind the rock he hid and searched for the others.
They were in a cave it seemed, with a large open mouth and stalactites hanging from the ceiling like fangs. The walls were covered in moss as well though it looked more weather worn and hung in numerous strips. The ground was shimmery sand and caked dirt that flooded into thick red mud, slick and heavy. Aldon stood shakily and made his way forward, slopping with every step.
“Aldon! Stay where you are! We will come to you!” Garenford called, echoing once more. However the boom of sound and commotion still shook Aldon’s senses. He saw the old man bellowing at the top of his lungs but heard nothing.
Garenford’s pale eyes were wide and his hands searched across the walls numbly, fingering their way across every nook and cranny around him as he searched for his staff.
Garenford needs help, I think he needs it just to stand.
Aldon ran forward as fast as he could in the quicksand-like glue until he was near the middle of the cave. The others were cramped behind the lip of the cave mouth, soaking and wide eyed. Several more flashes split the sky and shook the ground beneath them. The sky returned to black once more only to ripen again with color as the lightning imploded from within the clouds.
“Aldon, I thought he told you to stay back! The storm has gotten worse; did you not see the lightning hit just a few feet from us?” Took cried.
“So that’s what that was. I didn’t see anything, it was just plain white.”Aldon replied shaking and wet. “What do we do now?”
“We wait.” Garenford cut in sharply. “We are not about to go out there in the middle of.. of. This.” He gestured angrily outside. “Just because Briar had to be too stubborn to come closer to people and picked a terrible spot to be in.”
Aldon’s eyes fell. Something deep within him stirred and disagreed with the man he thought smartest in the world.
“No, I’m going after him.”
Garenford too seemed shocked at Aldon’s decision. His mouth formed to say words but none spilled out.
“I’m not going to leave him to die or be stranded. Who knows how much longer this storm will last?” He stared hard at the old man’s blank eyes.” You can stay here and wait, but I won’t be here doing nothing but hoping for the best.”
Aldon stooped over and pulled a filthy staff from the muck below, thrusting it to Garenford who still stood motionless.
What is he ignoring me now?
Aldon thrust it into Garenford’s hands and pulled his hood low over his face before stepping out into the turmoil that had become their world. The peace within the inner forest that had calmed him was long gone now and replaced by the anxiety of a dying reality.
* * *
Where are they? It’s been far too long just to bring back Aldon; something must have gone wrong. I don’t know what I’m going to do if they get lost in the storm. Should I go after them and face the weather’s wrath? Or stay here with false overconfidence?
“Well whatever I do, I’ll have to do it fast. There’s nothing more important than getting them to safety.” But what if they come looking for me after I’ve gone and I become the lost? “Damn it all to hell if I know what to do.”
Briar slumped back against the inner sanctum of the fort. The wooden walls were worn smooth and shone like polished stone. He brushed the back of his head against the petrified oak and sighed deeply. Instantly memories began to flood the dam of his focus, trying to spill over or break through completely. The longer he sat the more cracks began to appear.
“Well I can’t sit here and do nothing. This is too big for any one man to hope to contain.” The old ranger stood and stretched his aging muscles, head whirling with the information he had been given from the last person he ever thought he would see before he died. The words stained his thoughts like a prayer he had memorized.
Like that would happen.
But nonetheless the words came back to him in pure clarity:
Aldon is much more important than we ever thought. He isn’t the son we were told he was. Listen to me now, don’t give me that face and save your questions till later. We must get Aldon away from there; it is dangerous to leave him unguarded. Just do as I say and I shall get him to you as fast as I can. Trust what I say, Briar, for you will play a larger role than you ever anticipated.
Briar shivered and rubbed his hands across his face. He felt strained and thin like his very soul was stretched across a rack. The lines that creased his forehead felt deep as caverns to his searching fingers, old and weathered; Briar knew he was falling apart.
Maybe if I’m lucky my mind will go first.
Another clap of thunder shook the fort beneath his feet, quivering. He stood tall against the raging tempest and showed no fear to nature. He had braved her for decades, why fear now? Rather, he strode across the small chamber to the kitchen and grabbed a pear from his pack. He eyed the old, dusty bowl on the counter full of rotten fruits long since recognizable.
It really has been too long.
He stared out the window as he chewed, focusing on every little detail as he had been trained to do. He saw the black sky shatter in fluorescent spider webs just as the heavens fired their cannons. He saw the dark forest below shake and sway, buffeted beneath the howling winds. Briar himself had had difficulty traversing the Cliffside and made several stops along the way. He swore inwardly for not choosing a better location.
Why was this the first place that popped into my head?
He tore his eyes away from the window to look at the old forgotten fortress.
Heh, fort yes; fortress, no.
The ceiling was high for a small building with the support beams visible. They were extra thick for protection during war times and had thick stone walls with a layer of wood inside. The floors were stomped into a darker wooden color like pecan and had several lumpy areas where the other races had been for extended periods. There were only three rooms, the smallest was the kitchen where he sat now, only a table with three chairs and the counter around him. All the supplies of food and food rationing were long gone. The middle was the inner sanctum. A plain empty room with an extra wall on all sides to keep the outside outside. The largest was the common room which held nothing but bunks, cots and rolls to sleep dozens of past soldiers.
“I guess I can see why they don’t use this place anymore.”He mused, stroking his chin. He stood and tossed the pear out the heavy, barred door before stepping outside. The fort smelled of age, musty and full of memories. He swore his dreams were borrowed ones. He needed something to clear his head and steady his nerves. The cool, mountain air was fresh and damp like lying beneath a tree in the rain, but carried the taint of something he couldn’t pinpoint. Something unnatural yet as real as the sun.
Hopefully not as powerful. If only he would have given me more information about what we’re up against. The old peon was always one to withhold until absolutely necessary. Maybe he just wants to feel wanted.
It was then it hit home. He couldn’t sit around any longer and wish for the best. He had to take action without putting them in more harm.
“If I leave, they’ll search for me if they arrive before I can find them.” He said as he pulled rope and a large piece of iron he had found on one of the hunters from his pack. “So, I help them get here first.” He wrapped the rope around the frame of the door and tied it off to a small spruce a few yards away. He pushed on the door, straining and sweating, sure he was going to be flung down the bluffs as he lost his footing in the soaked soil until it closed. He waited for the doorknob to click to know it was shut. “They’ll have to see this.” He pulled the iron rod and weighed it in his hands.
At least ten pounds and as round as two of my thumbs. Should work.
He held it high over his head and moving forward one step, brought it down over his shoulder and onto the extended spruce he had stretched flat across the ground from its roots to the door. He hacked at it until his hands stung and his arms burned like ants in his veins.
This has to work, it has to.
He reared it up high and let loosed a roar that drowned into the explosion of thunder behind him and severed the tree with a solid thunk. The crack was louder than he expected as the tree swung forward and into the door. Briar untied it and laid it down beneath the awning covering the front of the house. He ran inside and exited with two wooden chairs in hand. He crashed one down on the other and threw the chunks beneath the spruce.
“Just one more thing,” He reached into his pack and removed a small vial. He pulled out the cork with a slight pop and sniffed. “Ugh, still as strong as I remember.” He took a swig and coughed, grimacing, then poured it onto the chair pieces and spruce tree before him. “Now if I remember, they’re should be a small patch of firelillies over here..yes! There it is.” He reached his hand to a small set of flowers, each with brilliantly bright colors ranging from purple to yellow and everything in between. He snipped a large orange one and peeled apart the roots until he had a small bundle of fibers and rubbed them across the petals.
Instantly they sparked and ignited ferociously. Briar quickly dropped them on the pile of pre-soaked chair and stepped back as fire lurched forward. The hissing let him know the water was evaporating from the tree and the popping was that of the wood cracking from a wild temperature change. He sat and watched his handiwork as the bonfire grew until all the leaves and needles were gone to ash and the wood began to char. Black then orange and swirling between the two, the embers glowed bright and hot. The heat was too much for Briar and he retired a few feet away in the third and last chair.
“This has to work, it’s impossible not to see it. Although his eyes seemed—“
A clap of thunder drowned out his words which fell back into his head. He sat in silence and waited, knowing he had done his part without reckless lack of heed. The orange glow contrasted with the blackness behind it like a great flaming eye with its smoldering pupil trained on him. He shook off the thought and closed his eyes for what seemed like a second.
“Briar!”
Briar opened and his eyes and saw a flaming world; a town burning and charred, the gray sky raining ash. He looked down and saw a sword in his hand and chainmail upon his frame. He felt strong and fast, lively and spry as he couldn’t recall. But the world begged him to help. It cried out to him in wavering pleas of pain and screams of terror. He charged forward and the ground beneath him fell away, a man standing where his shadow should have been. It was that man. The one from before. He saw the man standing on the ramparts as he pushed someone off. But who? Who had fallen? He found himself staring up from the ground just as the body hit the ground. He looked over and saw no one beside him.
“Briar!”
It was me! How could I have failed so utterly and miserably! I’m so sorry, no please, no!
He closed his eyes and saw only the little girl’s face staring blankly at him as her life ebbed away from her broken body.
“Briar!”
Briar sat up with a start, knife trained on a throat in his hand. He opened his eyes slowly, terrified he would see her again. It was Aldon. The knife slipped away quickly and into his belt. He stood and looked up to find the others right behind him, soaking wet and miserable.
“’Bout time you got here.” He choked. “What took you so long?”
Briar was mildly surprised Aldon was the first to speak. “Garenford refused to come out in the storm until I told him I saw a fire near a small hut on my way up the bluffs. This your work I assume?”
Briar chuckled slightly, still worried and abuzz with a nauseous stress. “Yes, and I hope you remember yours that I taught you. Training isn’t going to be easy.” He stood and patted Aldon on the shoulder. “And this ‘hut’ as you refer to it as, is actually an old Rangers Outpost thank you kindly.”
Briar shook hands with the others and motioned to go inside. They stepped inside and slung the rain from their faces before hanging their most outer clothing to dry over the fireplace.
“It’s a bit dusty but make yourself at home.” Briar said halfheartedly as he leaned against the far wall. “Sorry, I couldn’t find any chairs.”
Aldon sat on the floor with his back against the wall, just as Briar had before him. He couldn’t help but stare at how drastically the boy had changed these last few weeks. His face was grim and sober beneath the large line that split his face. Briar instinctively tensed as he remembered how scars like those were made.
“How has your time away been?” Aldon asked him.
“Well, honestly, I thought you had decided not to come. I made my way back to the woods and set my camp up again when I saw these two here walking about looking for you a week or so later. Said there were some trees or something telling them you were around. So I agreed to go with you all, find somewhere safe, go there, and come back to leave the location’s whereabouts. And here we are.” He said with a sense of hopeless finality. “And don’t worry yourself about stirring the beast within; I already know what’s happened to you and your kin. My condolences.”
Aldon flinched slightly and closed his eyes as if in great pain.
Hell, he really might be what with those burns.
“Do they hurt?”
Aldon answered after a moment. “Yeah, almost constantly. I’m never going to be able to train or fight like this. I can feel them; my muscles. They’re ruined across my chest, no way they’ll be able to flex or strain.”
Briar looked up slowly, something calculating in his mind, like he had just walked in on an inside joke. He looked from Aldon to the other two, jaw set and adamant. “If it’s that bad then why hasn’t Garen healed you up yet?”
Instantly Aldon sat up straight and looked hard at Briar like he had been speaking in tongues for an hour. “What do you mean ‘heal me up’? And who’s Garen?”
Briar jumped to his feet and looked down at the frail old man before him. His eyes were closed and dismissive yet his face was taut and ready for debate or yelling over one another. His hands gripped the staff tightly until they turned white like a corpse. The deep rivets in his face gave him the appearance of having shrunk with his thick coils of gray hair hanging heavily on his shoulders.
“You’ve got some explaining to do, Garen. Now.”