Legends Lost Tesnayr

  Chapter I

  Venture

  King Shealayr pulled his horse through the knee deep snow. Quesha walked beside him in silence. Quiet girl, he thought. She had not spoken a word since they had left the Keep of Edrei. Five days they had travelled. Shealayr had attempted to get the girl to speak, but all his efforts met with disappointment. Pulling himself from his thoughts, King Shealayr concentrated on the barely visible path before him as the road narrowed. Snow fell delicately from the clouded sky. A storm brewed. Reading the signs of the weather Shealayr knew that a terrible storm headed their way and could last several days, if not weeks, in these mountains. Leave it to the Ársa Mountains to test you.

  Quesha walked ahead of him leading the way through the mountains. A slender staff filled her tiny hands as she used it to gage the depth of the snow. She pointed ahead indicating that they should continue forward.

  Why can she not speak? Tightening his hand on the reins in an effort to ignore the cold, King Shealayr trudged onward. He wrapped his cloak tighter around him. A gust of wind rose up knocking him off balance. Not good. Straightening himself, King Shealayr continued onward listening to the snow under his boots with each step he took.

  King Shealayr admired Quesha’s ability to ignore the cold. Her cloak hung loosely around her shoulders as she walked lightly in the snow barely leaving any impression. The wind’s chill hardly fazed her. Unhindered by the frozen world, she moved quickly, becoming irritated at the elf’s slow progress. Her emotions never betrayed her, such was her tight restraint on them.

  King Shealayr noticed a clearing up ahead. “We should stop there.”

  Quesha ignored him.

  “I said we should stop and rest,” Shealayr shouted over the wind.

  “I heard you the first time,” quipped Quesha.

  “So you do speak,” Shealayr said.

  Quesha disregarded the comment. “We have little time and need to reach Tesnayr before he decides to move elsewhere.”

  “He is camped for the winter.”

  “That could change.”

  King Shealayr stopped upon reaching the small clearing. “Look,” he said, “We won’t reach him if we are dead. The horse is exhausted. I am exhausted. And whether you admit it or not, you are tired as well. We should rest for a few hours before continuing.”

  Relenting, Quesha dropped her pack. She dug through the hard snow until she found a rock. Tossing it between them, the stone burst into flame giving them a fire for warmth. “Rest quickly.”

  The elf huddled near the fire relishing its warmth. He rubbed his hands quickly by the flames as feeling returned to them making them tingle. Quesha plopped down across from him refusing to enjoy the fire. “You do not feel the cold?”

  “I feel everything.”

  Now she talks. For five days she said nothing, and now she freely engaged in conversation with him. King Shealayr decided to keep it going not knowing when the girl would silence herself again. “You act as though you do not.”

  “Shivering accomplishes nothing. Therefore I choose to ignore the cold.”

  “Interesting,” said Shealayr, “Are you sure you know where Tesnayr is?”

  “Yes,” replied Quesha.

  “How do you know?”

  “The wind tells me what I wish to know, much like it warns you of the weather.”

  “How much farther?” asked King Shealayr.

  “We are almost to the Perili Mountains. Once we reach them, it should not be long before we run into Tesnayr. You should eat. We will be leaving soon.”

  With that the conversation ended. Quesha pulled out some jerky and nibbled on it. King Shealayr did the same. Perhaps she was right. The faster they moved, the sooner they could accomplish their mission. But finding Tesnayr was the easy part. Convincing him to come to the Keep of Edrei would be far more difficult.

  A noise nearby caught their attention. Both King Shealayr and Quesha dropped their jerky and crept toward the sound. Just ahead of them were a group of orcs and two men. Only the small rise of snow protected them from being seen. An orc threw one of the men to the ground. “Filthy scum,” it yelled.

  Another poked and prodded the man with the point of its sword. The others grunted with glee, their way of laughing. King Shealayr’s knuckles turned white as he gripped his sword, but Quesha’s firm hand stopped him. She put her finger over her mouth signaling for silence. Gently, she scooped a handful of snow and blew it from her hand letting the crystals gently fall. Gradually, the snow crystals swirled around her picking up momentum with each turn until they went still.

  “Kill them,” Quesha ordered.

  Mounds of snow burst from the ground twisting and turning until they resembled giant snakes. The snow snakes slithered effortlessly through the snow leaving no trail behind them.

  Unaware of the danger, the orcs continued their game. The snow snakes slithered toward them with ease. Instantly, one snow snake erupted from the snow and wrapped itself around an orc. The beast shrieked and struggled in the tight grip. The snow snake held on squeezing more tightly until the orc went limp before hauling the beast beneath the snow and disappearing.

  The other snow snakes circled the remaining orcs. Bunched together, the orcs stared at their strange, new enemy. They slashed awkwardly with their axes and swords. Bits of snow scattered in the wind as they broke away from the snow snake bodies. The snakes continued to slither through the snow unaffected by the sharp blades. Hissing filled the air as the snow snakes spat ice in the orcs’ faces.

  An orc charged. A snake whipped its tail catching the orc in the middle and flung it into sharp rocks. The beast lay lifeless across the jagged surface.

  King Shealayr watched in shock as the snow snakes tore through the group of orcs, picking them off one by one. Desperate, two of the beasts dropped their weapons and fled. Instantly, snow snakes crashed upon them. Sharp fangs of ice ripped through the leathery flesh of the orcs.

  Shealayr leaned forward for a better look. A menacing growl alerted him to an orc sneaking up from behind. He whirled around only to receive a blunt blow to his stomach. The force knocked him to the frozen ground. Winded, King Shealayr rolled across the snow. He reached for his sword tugging at it with all his strength. Nothing happened. He yanked on his sword again, but the cold had made it stick to the sheath. Sensing victory, the orc leered over him. It raised its crooked blade. Suddenly, a snow snake appeared and swallowed the orc whole before bursting into an array of snow and ice and mingling with the ground.

  Quesha appeared before King Shealayr. “You should have stayed by me,” she said.

  “What were those things?”

  “It need not concern you.”

  Brushing himself off, King Shealayr went to the men that huddled in the snow frightened. “It is alright,” he soothed, “They are gone.”

  The men slowly stood up.

  “What are your names?”

  “I am Felznic and this is Argur,” replied the tallest of the two men. “We are in your debt.”

  “Where are you headed?” asked King Shealayr.

  “To the Perili Mountains.”

  “So are we,” said King Shealayr.

  “They wish to join Tesnayr,” Quesha piped in.

  “How did you—we do—,” Argur sputtered.

  Quesha glanced nonchalantly at him. “I know many things.” She surveyed the area studying the sky and falling snow. “You will join us. We will take you to Tesnayr,” her statement was a command not a suggestion. Even King Shealayr dared not argue with her.

  “Come,” he motioned to the two men, “We have a ways to go before nightfall.”

  The two men gathered their meager belongings and trailed after King Shealayr and Quesha. Quesha took the lead again as she glided over the snow allowing the others to stumble through it.