Several minutes later, dressed in hardy travelling clothes and armed with a bag full of books and various writing paraphernalia, Efrain stood once more in the dark expanse. As he passed the torches, they faded, plunging the hall into even deeper shadow.
Finally, he pulled the front doors open once more and set out toward the rundown stables, where his ‘horse’ stood, looking around impassively. Once he approached, it nuzzled at him, perhaps looking for a treat of some description.
“Now, what do you eat? Hopefully nothing that’s too expensive,” spoke Efrain to the empty air, the jab returned with an empty stare.
A full riding set had been made part of the ‘package’, so at least Efrain didn’t need to rush back in to retrieve a reference guide to saddle it. He looped his back from his shoulders and onto one of the mounts on the leather-work. The beast was impassive as he cut away and slipped its bonds loose.
“Now, let’s see what you can do,” Efrain said as he hauled himself up onto the creature’s broad back. While there were footrests that resembled stirrups, the creature’s back was too wide for anyone to reasonably reach them. Instead, a series of weights and straps seemed to be the director of the creature. In response to that, the creature’s head swivelled almost completely around to stare at him, nearly shocking him out of his seat.
“I don’t understand why that is remotely necessary,” complained Efrain after he managed to right himself. The horse did not reply.
“Well, you can go now.”
The horse continued to stare at him, which even Efrain found unsettling.
“Okay, what do you need? A name?” Efrain said, beginning to parse through his memory trying to find a suitable moniker for the creature.
“Hmm, Emiphadel, no, Philomenses?” Efrain said, with apathetic results, “Tykhon. How about that?”
The creature rotated its head to the front, which Efrain took to mean some sort of approval. He hoped that it would carrying him to more pleasant places than the mount of the star of war.
“Tykhon, then. Well, Tykhon, let’s try getting out of the courtyard first.”
Tykhon gently began pacing toward the eastern edge of the courtyard, saddle barely rocking as it laid out one limb out after another. At the heavy wooden doors, Efrain waved a hand, and two of the great lumbering shapes on the ramparts began to yank on a set of turn wheels.
He was pleasantly surprised to see that Tykhon barely responded to the presence of magic. Horses were among the classes of animals that could get easily spooked by the usage of magic.
Then again, thought Efrain, staring at the dull glint of scales between strands of fur, I’m not sure how much ‘horse’ went into him, or is it a ‘her’?
The only thing that he was certain of in this moment, was that there be some pointed questions for Carnes when next they met. Either way, the mount seemed affable enough to Efrain various pulling and pushing, and began to saunter out the gate out onto the slope-side path.
As they cleared the small receiving area, Efrain decided to see just how expedient this new mount might prove. Giving it a small flick with the reins, he braced himself for it to accelerate. Tykhon, to the contrary, slowed and stopped, lowering its back closer to the ground.
Efrain stared at the back of the mane, trying to remember what he could about horseback riding and whether he had done something wrong. At the last moment, he noticed the muscles coiling under the creatures hide. He tightened the grip on the reins as the thing exploded outward onto the path.
In a matter of moments, Tykhon had torn past the first range marker and was rapidly accelerating toward a bend in the path. Efrain tried pull on the reigns, to do anything frankly, but the creature careened toward the edge that Efrain was not looking forward to pitching over.
The creature sunk into the curve, nearly tossing Efrain off as he hung on for his existence. Finally, the creature seemed to get the message, and slowed to a stop. Efrain stared into the large brown eyes as it gave him another long look. There was something distinctly self-satisfied about it, Efrain thought.
“Alright, you’ve made your point,” he muttered, “now, let’s try that again, shall we?”
It took some cajoling and some pointed looks by the creature, but finally, Efrain managed to get Tykhon into a gentle trot. This was still quite a bit faster than Efrain would’ve liked at this height, but he supposed that he would have to get used to it.
Within half an hour, he had reached the junction where the path split - one led out to the east, out of the Frozen Vale, and the other down, onto the valley floor below. Inclines seemed to be fairly irrelevant to the creature, as it barely changed pace as the rock walls climbed around them. Finally, the steps changed from the thud of feet on stone to the crunch of snow and grass as they stepped into the meadow.
Efrain wheeled Tykon to trot toward the forest’s edge, the ancient pines and spruces now dusted with touches of white above their green. Soon there would be wells that could easily swallow Efrain whole, if he was careless. Few travelled through these woods, so the only footpaths were the ones created by animals.
Efrain idly wondered as they passed under the bows of the forest whether a stray bear or two might stumble across them. He glanced down at the smooth flexing of what muscle he could see between the fur. Between the relatively large stature of Tykhon, and the claws on its front feet, combined with its speed, he doubted that even a bear would represent a significant threat to one of Carnes’s designs.
“Speaking of, again, I guess,” said Efrain, “what do you even eat?”
Tykhon’s head twisted around slightly, to regard him with one large amber eye.
“I mean, Carnes never told me. I guess I’m going to have to have you crack open your mouth to see.”
Tykhon, for their part, offered little comment beyond a snort and a toss of the head.
“Suit yourself,” said Efrain, as they weaved between the trunks. Much like the descent, the snow barely slowed the creature down, and more than once Efrain had to quickly duck to avoid an errant branch. They continued in silence, the only sounds being Tykhon’s footfalls, and the occasional thumps of snow as it slipped off the trees.
After some time, Efrain finally happened upon the first landmark, a considerably sized stream that disappeared into a gully below. Before him stretched a few heavy logs, Innie’s attempt at a makeshift bridge. They had been there long enough for moss to be practically dripping from the bark. Tykhon approached the gap with the same confidence as he had approached everything - stepping over the logs without so much as a start at the creaking.
Efrain steered Tykhon to the west, and let the mount carry him onward. He examined the trees as he passed, feeling a certain camaraderie. It wasn’t too often that he encountered living things that were older than he was. The trees of the forest were wizened, twisted little things, well adapted to their environment. The largest and the oldest, however, were still a good hour or two to the west, where the wisp-mother had made her home.
He still remembered their first meeting, where she had arrived completely unannounced. Having a orb of magical fire twisting and drifting its way into your hall would’ve been alarming enough, but it was paired with the fact that a shipment of books had just arrived and were being moved to the library. Efrain, unsurprisingly, had panicked and had tried to conjure moisture out of the arid winter breeze. Innie had found the resulting drizzle less than amusing.
Fortunately for him and his books, the wisp-mother had proved to be in a forgiving mood. In fact, she’d asked him for permission to take up residence in the valley, which Efrain had granted unconditionally. He had little enough use for the lands, as he was renovating the castle far above, and was surprised that a powerful being would show such courtesy.
Would it have changed, if I still had flesh and blood? Would I have tried to keep it to myself? He thought, as Tykhon crunched through the thin snow. A life this long tended to give one a different perspective on things like wealth and property. The being said, he would’ve had to have reference to the kind of person he was before becoming a lich. The memories of that time was another price to pay for his longevity, it seemed.
He was broken out of his reverie by something strange on a tree they passed. Reigning Tykhon in, he laboriously dismounted and approached the trunk. Several deep marks lay across it, biting deep into the wood. As he glanced around, several of the trees bore similar gouges, of differing depths, orientation, and heights. No reliable path could be seen in the shallow snow, indicating that they had been here for some time.
“Guess we’re not alone out here, Tykhon,” Efrain said as he looked around for more clues. The marks didn’t match what he knew of the claws of bears or wolves, nor their behaviour. Patrouts, the vicious little bastards, made these types of markings, but they were usually found farther to the south, and in addition these marks were too deep for their claws. He stood back from the tree, gazing up its length. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t exactly figure out what. His gaze wandered up the bows, it was almost as if…
Then he realized what was wrong - he could see the sky above, the clouds peaking through yellowed pines. Making sure he was clear of falling snow, he gave the tree a good kick. Several branches cracked and tumbled to the ground with the powder. He stooped over to examine one of the limbs, pulling it from the snow. The usually deep green was a minority in a sea of yellow-brown pines.
Dead, Efrain thought, or dying. Makes little difference.
Many of the other trees bore the same affliction, which explained the splashes of colour he could see from the castle workshop. He tapped one of his hands with the bow, wondering what kind of thing could do this - a parasite or fungus, perhaps?
Tykhon had meandered over, staring at him - getting bored, Efrain thought. He’d have to talk to Innie about it, to see if they could control the spread. As he saddled up once again, he took one more look at the marks across the bark.
I just hope I don’t meet whatever did that, he thought as Tykhon bore him west.
Several minutes later, dressed in hardy travelling clothes and armed with a bag full of books and various writing paraphernalia, Efrain stood once more in the dark expanse. As he passed the torches, they faded, plunging the hall into even deeper shadow.
Finally, he pulled the front doors open once more and set out toward the rundown stables, where his ‘horse’ stood, looking around impassively. Once he approached, it nuzzled at him, perhaps looking for a treat of some description.
“Now, what do you eat? Hopefully nothing that’s too expensive,” spoke Efrain to the empty air, the jab returned with an empty stare.
A full riding set had been made part of the ‘package’, so at least Efrain didn’t need to rush back in to retrieve a reference guide to saddle it. He looped his back from his shoulders and onto one of the mounts on the leather-work. The beast was impassive as he cut away and slipped its bonds loose.
“Now, let’s see what you can do,” Efrain said as he hauled himself up onto the creature’s broad back. While there were footrests that resembled stirrups, the creature’s back was too wide for anyone to reasonably reach them. Instead, a series of weights and straps seemed to be the director of the creature. In response to that, the creature’s head swivelled almost completely around to stare at him, nearly shocking him out of his seat.
“I don’t understand why that is remotely necessary,” complained Efrain after he managed to right himself. The horse did not reply.
“Well, you can go now.”
The horse continued to stare at him, which even Efrain found unsettling.
“Okay, what do you need? A name?” Efrain said, beginning to parse through his memory trying to find a suitable moniker for the creature.
“Hmm, Emiphadel, no, Philomenses?” Efrain said, with apathetic results, “Tykhon. How about that?”
The creature rotated its head to the front, which Efrain took to mean some sort of approval. He hoped that it would carrying him to more pleasant places than the mount of the star of war.
“Tykhon, then. Well, Tykhon, let’s try getting out of the courtyard first.”
Tykhon gently began pacing toward the eastern edge of the courtyard, saddle barely rocking as it laid out one limb out after another. At the heavy wooden doors, Efrain waved a hand, and two of the great lumbering shapes on the ramparts began to yank on a set of turn wheels.
He was pleasantly surprised to see that Tykhon barely responded to the presence of magic. Horses were among the classes of animals that could get easily spooked by the usage of magic.
Then again, thought Efrain, staring at the dull glint of scales between strands of fur, I’m not sure how much ‘horse’ went into him, or is it a ‘her’?
The only thing that he was certain of in this moment, was that there be some pointed questions for Carnes when next they met. Either way, the mount seemed affable enough to Efrain various pulling and pushing, and began to saunter out the gate out onto the slope-side path.
As they cleared the small receiving area, Efrain decided to see just how expedient this new mount might prove. Giving it a small flick with the reins, he braced himself for it to accelerate. Tykhon, to the contrary, slowed and stopped, lowering its back closer to the ground.
Efrain stared at the back of the mane, trying to remember what he could about horseback riding and whether he had done something wrong. At the last moment, he noticed the muscles coiling under the creatures hide. He tightened the grip on the reins as the thing exploded outward onto the path.
In a matter of moments, Tykhon had torn past the first range marker and was rapidly accelerating toward a bend in the path. Efrain tried pull on the reigns, to do anything frankly, but the creature careened toward the edge that Efrain was not looking forward to pitching over.
The creature sunk into the curve, nearly tossing Efrain off as he hung on for his existence. Finally, the creature seemed to get the message, and slowed to a stop. Efrain stared into the large brown eyes as it gave him another long look. There was something distinctly self-satisfied about it, Efrain thought.
“Alright, you’ve made your point,” he muttered, “now, let’s try that again, shall we?”
It took some cajoling and some pointed looks by the creature, but finally, Efrain managed to get Tykhon into a gentle trot. This was still quite a bit faster than Efrain would’ve liked at this height, but he supposed that he would have to get used to it.
Within half an hour, he had reached the junction where the path split - one led out to the east, out of the Frozen Vale, and the other down, onto the valley floor below. Inclines seemed to be fairly irrelevant to the creature, as it barely changed pace as the rock walls climbed around them. Finally, the steps changed from the thud of feet on stone to the crunch of snow and grass as they stepped into the meadow.
Efrain wheeled Tykon to trot toward the forest’s edge, the ancient pines and spruces now dusted with touches of white above their green. Soon there would be wells that could easily swallow Efrain whole, if he was careless. Few travelled through these woods, so the only footpaths were the ones created by animals.
Efrain idly wondered as they passed under the bows of the forest whether a stray bear or two might stumble across them. He glanced down at the smooth flexing of what muscle he could see between the fur. Between the relatively large stature of Tykhon, and the claws on its front feet, combined with its speed, he doubted that even a bear would represent a significant threat to one of Carnes’s designs.
“Speaking of, again, I guess,” said Efrain, “what do you even eat?”
Tykhon’s head twisted around slightly, to regard him with one large amber eye.
“I mean, Carnes never told me. I guess I’m going to have to have you crack open your mouth to see.”
Tykhon, for their part, offered little comment beyond a snort and a toss of the head.
“Suit yourself,” said Efrain, as they weaved between the trunks. Much like the descent, the snow barely slowed the creature down, and more than once Efrain had to quickly duck to avoid an errant branch. They continued in silence, the only sounds being Tykhon’s footfalls, and the occasional thumps of snow as it slipped off the trees.
After some time, Efrain finally happened upon the first landmark, a considerably sized stream that disappeared into a gully below. Before him stretched a few heavy logs, Innie’s attempt at a makeshift bridge. They had been there long enough for moss to be practically dripping from the bark. Tykhon approached the gap with the same confidence as he had approached everything - stepping over the logs without so much as a start at the creaking.
Efrain steered Tykhon to the west, and let the mount carry him onward. He examined the trees as he passed, feeling a certain camaraderie. It wasn’t too often that he encountered living things that were older than he was. The trees of the forest were wizened, twisted little things, well adapted to their environment. The largest and the oldest, however, were still a good hour or two to the west, where the wisp-mother had made her home.
He still remembered their first meeting, where she had arrived completely unannounced. Having a orb of magical fire twisting and drifting its way into your hall would’ve been alarming enough, but it was paired with the fact that a shipment of books had just arrived and were being moved to the library. Efrain, unsurprisingly, had panicked and had tried to conjure moisture out of the arid winter breeze. Innie had found the resulting drizzle less than amusing.
Fortunately for him and his books, the wisp-mother had proved to be in a forgiving mood. In fact, she’d asked him for permission to take up residence in the valley, which Efrain had granted unconditionally. He had little enough use for the lands, as he was renovating the castle far above, and was surprised that a powerful being would show such courtesy.
Would it have changed, if I still had flesh and blood? Would I have tried to keep it to myself? He thought, as Tykhon crunched through the thin snow. A life this long tended to give one a different perspective on things like wealth and property. The being said, he would’ve had to have reference to the kind of person he was before becoming a lich. The memories of that time was another price to pay for his longevity, it seemed.
He was broken out of his reverie by something strange on a tree they passed. Reigning Tykhon in, he laboriously dismounted and approached the trunk. Several deep marks lay across it, biting deep into the wood. As he glanced around, several of the trees bore similar gouges, of differing depths, orientation, and heights. No reliable path could be seen in the shallow snow, indicating that they had been here for some time.
“Guess we’re not alone out here, Tykhon,” Efrain said as he looked around for more clues. The marks didn’t match what he knew of the claws of bears or wolves, nor their behaviour. Patrouts, the vicious little bastards, made these types of markings, but they were usually found farther to the south, and in addition these marks were too deep for their claws. He stood back from the tree, gazing up its length. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t exactly figure out what. His gaze wandered up the bows, it was almost as if…
Then he realized what was wrong - he could see the sky above, the clouds peaking through yellowed pines. Making sure he was clear of falling snow, he gave the tree a good kick. Several branches cracked and tumbled to the ground with the powder. He stooped over to examine one of the limbs, pulling it from the snow. The usually deep green was a minority in a sea of yellow-brown pines.
Dead, Efrain thought, or dying. Makes little difference.
Many of the other trees bore the same affliction, which explained the splashes of colour he could see from the castle workshop. He tapped one of his hands with the bow, wondering what kind of thing could do this - a parasite or fungus, perhaps?
Tykhon had meandered over, staring at him - getting bored, Efrain thought. He’d have to talk to Innie about it, to see if they could control the spread. As he saddled up once again, he took one more look at the marks across the bark.
I just hope I don’t meet whatever did that, he thought as Tykhon bore him west.
