The open glade had suffered from the ravages of war between the E’rudites and the Alchemists. Over a thousand years of powers and spells had been unleashed into the mile wide swath of land coated with grass and the clumps of bushes and trees and boulders.
Translucent spheres of energy floated in the glade like room-sized bath bubbles, slowly bouncing off one another as they passed through trees and rock outcroppings, and even into the ground.
The spheres were the remnants of the powerful magic gone astray during the battles. Some provided a view of the glade from another time, others lingered about as a captured spell waiting to be activated. Still others had deeper darker secrets within thick vapors.
As the travelers reached the glade they started noticing the signs of the deformities caused by the war and the remaining spheres. The most noticeable was the giant spheres’ ability to change the time of the field months and years prior to or after the current date. As each sphere floated along, it erased whatever was there and replaced it with what existed at a different time in history, based on what time that specific sphere was caught in.
Trees were warped, some with branches a decade older than the rest of the tree due to where a sphere had brushed by it. Snow rested upon branches on half of a tree after a sphere engulfed that section before moving on. Twisted and bent by the spheres, few things looked right.
Rock outcroppings were cut away by the spheres, only to be replaced with a layer of tree bark or a frozen snowdrift. Patches of green grass would suddenly turn brown and dead as a sphere raised out of the ground. Dead became alive, the living became warped, and the warped became dead in a never-ending cycle.
“Fascinating.” Grewen gazed at the odd formations caused by the spheres. “Past, present, and future all overlapping in our view. What an amazing sight.”
Santorray stood next to the giant and sniffed the air. “This smells of a trap as it waits for some fool to spring it.” Squinting his eyes, he thought of just the right person. “Send in Brimmelle.”
Fir Brimmelle shot Santorray a disgusted glance, while the Blothrud grinned at the Num’s expense.
“Where is Vesik?” Thorik asked Bryus as the entire group stood just outside of the glade’s grasp.
“How would I know?” Bryus stretched his neck and looked about for the book.
Throwing his hands in the air, Brimmelle sighed overly loud. “I knew he didn’t know.”
Thorik’s face turned two shades of red as he addressed Bryus. “This is why we brought you here. You told us you knew where Vesik is.”
“We’ll of course I do. The book of magic is in the Govi Glade.”
“But where within the glade?” Thorik asked.
“That’s a wonderful question to ask.” Bryus was clearly excited to find out the answer. “Govi Glade is an ever-changing place. Even if I set Vesik down in one place, the book could be in a different time or place when I looked for it again.”
“Different place?”
Bryus’ eyes grew like a child who was given a treat. “Yes, a different place or time.”
“Then how will we find it?”
“The real question is, do we need to make the effort to find it?”
“Yes, we do. I need it to save my grandmother.”
“But seeing that all things in this ancient battlefield constantly change and move, then it’s just a matter of time before Vesik moves right here before us.” The Alchemist pointed to a spot just a few yards in front of them as an example.
Brimmelle’s patience had worn thin with the entire idea. “Are you suggesting that we just stand here and wait for the book to appear?”
Bryus laughed. “No, no. It’s best if we sit down and relax. This most likely will take some time. To be realistic it would be wise to build some type of shelter for the winter.”
Thorik’s face tensed up. “We aren’t staying here through the winter in hopes that it will appear.”
“We aren’t?” The Alchemist seemed genuinely surprised by Thorik’s comment.
“No, you’re going to tell us a faster way to find it.”
“Faster? That’s easy. Just walk through the glade until you find it.”
“It will be just lying there, in the grass?” Thorik was in disbelief.
“Or on a rock, or in a tree.”
“How do we know it hasn’t already been distorted and shredded apart by the spheres, or animals, or weathered away by time itself?”
Bryus laughed. “Vesik is the primary book of magic. It has a spirit of magic all its own, which rivals all living things. It’s protected from aging and weathering. Even the infamous Wyrlyn couldn’t destroy Irluk during the E’rudite and Alchemist war, because the book protected her.”
“So, Vesik has been tossed around this field for thousands of years. If it’s been just lying in this field, why hasn’t anyone else come here to find it?”
A devious smile rolled up Bryus Grum’s face ending with his eye twitching. “Oh, many have tried and their remains are scattered throughout the glade. The risk has just been too great.”
“The risk seems low as long as you watch what you’re doing. The spheres are sluggish at best.”
Bryus nodded. “True, until you enter the glade. Then the energy of your body begins to affect them, causing them to speed up. The longer you stay, the faster they go. The battlefield stripped this glade of its own natural powers, so it becomes energized once a new source enters.”
Thorik took a deep breath, wondering what his strategy would be. “I’ve come this far. I must try.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Santorray announced. “I’ll start on the far end and start working back toward you.”
Avanda helped Thorik off with his pack. “I’ll go with you, as well. We can cover three times as much ground in the same time.”
“True,” Thorik said, “But the spheres will speed up that much faster with the presence of all three of us in the glade at once.” Looking to Bryus for confirmation on his logic, he received it in the form of a nod. “It would be best if I go alone to minimize the effects of the spheres. I’ll make a path straight across, move over a bit and then straight back. That way I can eventually cover the entire field.”
Growling at the idea of Thorik going in alone, Santorray reluctantly agreed to stay out of the glade. “I’ll sweep the perimeter and then follow you from the far side just in case you need assistance.”
“Avanda and I will keep an eye on you from this side of the field,” Grewen noted.
Bryus’ cheek twitched. “By your presence being in the glade, the likelihood of Vesik being in one place the entire time is unrealistic. Your scouring of the field will quickly age this land. It could show up directly behind you on your first pass and you would never know it.”
Frustrated, Thorik realized that there wasn’t going to be an easy way to solve this. He would have to do the best he could and rely on some luck to be in his favor. “Just wait here. I’ll keep making passes back and forth until I can’t keep up with the spheres. At that point, I’ll rest outside the glade so they slow down.”
Removing all of his gear from his pack, he strapped on the empty backpack in hopes of filling it with the book, Vesik, very soon. Meanwhile, Santorray made his way around the edge and to the far side of the glade, as he searched for the book. He also kept an eye on Thorik, just in case he fell prey to anything in the open field.
Watching the mostly transparent spheres slowly bounce off of one another, Thorik waited for a clear opening before entering the field.
He had only made it ten yards before he noticed the slight increase in sphere speed. He had underestimated how difficult it would be to look through the tall grass for a book at the same time that he watched out for nearly invisible spheres coming at him from every direction. Running too fast increased the risk of not seeing the book. Going too slow increased the danger and the speed of the giant spheres.
Jogging through the glade, he came upon a tree trunk. The upper half had been ripped
off and embedded in the bark was a human arm. The flesh had been infused with the wood, preventing it from deteriorating.
Next was a patch of grass that began to change colors as a sphere lifted up from the ground directly in Thorik’s path. The view inside the sphere was distorted, but is was distinctly the view of a raging battle, perhaps from the war that caused the spheres in the first place.
Avoiding the sphere as it raised up and lifted over his head, Thorik watched the chaos of the battle continue before running underneath it to finish his first pass of the glade.
He had completed one row. But to complete enough rows to search the entire field, it was going to take most of the day.
Thorik moved over a few yards and waved back to Avanda on the far side, where she enthusiastically waved back. It was obvious that the spheres were now at a quicker pace than they had been before leaving on his first trip across.
Jogging a little faster this time, he hoped to reduce his influence on the spheres, however he was wrong. Nearly halfway across, the ground broke free and opened up below Thorik’s feet into a hole created by an underground sphere which had removed the soil. The sphere had passed but the hole remained, like an air bubble floating just below the water’s surface. Rolling to the bottom, he tumbled into the top of a tree, which had been relocated to its new home by the sphere. Thorik couldn’t tell if the entire tree was buried below him or if just the top had been misplaced, but he wasn’t going to stick around long enough to find out.
Quickly scrambling up the side, he pulled himself up to the grass and rolled to his feet. It was then that he noticed a large leather bound book sitting in the high grass. A thin leather strap held the overlapping leather covers from opening up and exposing the pages. Symbols had been burnt into the leather work which was old and worn but not torn or damaged. It was not fancy, nor did it glow or emanate any magical lights. But then again, it had survived the Govi Glade, so it must be the book he was after. “Could I be this lucky?”
But before he could run for the book, a sphere lowered itself onto the book and the grass around it.
Thorik jumped back to prevent the sphere from taking one of his arms with it.
The book had been taken underground with the sphere.
He was suddenly torn between disappointment over missing a great opportunity and excited to know that this was achievable. He now knew what he was looking for and he just needed to be prepared.
On the move again, he made the decision to keep moving forward instead of tracing his steps again. It could reappear anywhere, but it seemed demotivating to start all over again each time it was seen.
There was no giving up. Thorik was bound and determined to race this field time and time again until he was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. He would not fail his grandmother.
The spheres continued to speed up as he spent more time inside the glade. Spheres seemed to come out of nowhere and collide with one another causing additional small distortions and cracks in the ground. The faster they moved, the harder they crashed, and the more likely these new effects created problems.
Rifts in the ground rose up, gale force winds blew out of nowhere, and snow storms and hail sprang forth from some of the faster collisions. This new uneven glade was now wet and slippery as Thorik fought his way back and forth, working his way down the field.
Time and time again, he had no luck as he raced back and forth across the glade, until fortune fell upon him and for a second time as he noticed the book just as it began to slide into one of the new rifts in the ground.
Thorik jumped for it, sliding his upper body into the small crevasse. His hands were wet and cold, as he reached out and grabbed onto the spine of the book with one finger and a thumb. But before he could pull it up, a fast moving sphere rolled itself along the grass toward him.
There was no time to think. Thorik instinctively pulled his arm out of the way. But in doing so, he dropped the book.
Now with nearly the entire glade done, the sun was starting to set and many of the spheres were starting to be more difficult to view. A few of them had raging fires or electrical storms within them as they lit up the glade. Nevertheless, it was the calm ones that Thorik now feared the most for they were becoming increasingly harder to see in the darkening evening hours.
Racing against the lack of light, Thorik continued with his quest. He ran down the last row for the night with tired but determined eyes. Slipping more than once, he eventually slid into a tree trunk. He had seen this trunk on the far side of the glade, however this time, the arm was not embedded as far nor was it protected. Insects were having their way with the fleshy pieces that still clung onto the bones.
Thorik didn’t have time to even think about the sight before a stray sphere removed it. By this point, the giant spheres were flying in every direction at a very fast pace, and with the sunlight dwindling, they were nearly impossible to see. Suddenly, Thorik was no longer looking for the book, he was trying to stay alive in the minefield of magical distortions.
Jumping to his feet he ran and bolted for the side of the glade, but was blocked every time. The crashing of the spheres sounded like thunder and the waves of energy dramatically increased, causing rips in the earth to snap open unexpectedly. Thorik was trapped. His only option was to continue to evade. Each time he focused on an exit, it nearly caused his death.
Diving under a collision caused a wave of energy to flatten him onto the ground. He could feel his body sink into the earth from the force, knocking the wind out of him. Fortunately it only lasted a second.
Once it passed, Thorik heard Santorray’s voice ordering him to run his way. Looking up, he saw the Blothrud waving the Num forward as he stood near the edge of the glade. Taking the chance, Thorik sprang to his feet and made a mad dash for safety. Spheres tumbled toward him as though they were consciously trying to block his path, but he slid and rolled, jumped, twisted in the air, and weaved back and forth in this final attempt for freedom.
But then it happened, just a few yards from the edge of the glade, two more spheres began to rise from the ground as they closed in on his path. He reacted without thinking and ran in between the two spheres. Then, just as they prepared to crash and squish him between them, Thorik jumped as high as he could. Unfortunately, the jump was not enough to carry him over the spheres.
As he began to fall, the spheres clashed, sending out a shock wave which pushed the Num back up into the air, through the trees, past the edge of the glade, and into the arms of Santorray.
He was safe, but he had failed to acquire Vesik.
Chapter 34
Camp Chores