In the Thick of it

Jolen quickly ran to the door and tried to open it. “We’re trapped inside!” he announced after he failed to move the door in any way.

Rikel turned to the mages. “Can any of you use your magic to free us?” she asked.

Bewr shook her head. “Not without risking damage to the spells keeping the tower in place. If I remove the wrong spell, we’re all very dead,” she explained.

Kirel walked towards the fireplace and started casting a spell. A moment later, he turned to the others. “There’s a barrier preventing me from putting out the fire!” He explained before holding his hand up towards the fire place. Within moments, wind started pushing the smoke back. “We have maybe an hour before the smoke fills the room, despite my wind spell, and suffocates us all,” he advised them.

Jolen walked over to Bewr. “How much about the magic in this trap can you tell me?” he asked the enchanter.

Bewr shook her head. “There’s too much ambient magic in this tower for me to be able to analyze the trap,” she explained with a blush.

Jolen lifted his finger. “I don’t need details. I doubt if I’d be able to understand all of it anyway.” he admitted. “Can you tell me something simple? Such as if this is a one-time trap or if it was designed to reset after certain conditions?”

Bewr nodded and started concentrating on the magic in the room. “I don’t know what causes any of the changes, but this room is designed to set the trap, return to normal, then be ready to spring the trap again.”

Jolen started talking to himself. “Okay, the trap can trigger over and over. What would change when an intruder is dead?” he asked himself.

Rikel turned to Jolen. “No movement?” She then faced Bewr. “Could the trap be triggered or ended by movement?”

Bewr shook her head. “No, a trigger like this would have to be based on a simple state of a known object. Like a door being opened instead of closed or a book being removed from a bookshelf.”

Jolen snapped his fingers and ran to one of the candelabras and started blowing out the candles. Lelwyn and Bewr, seeing what he was doing, quickly moved to do the same to the other candles.

After the last candle was blown out, the door and windows opened and the flue started allowing the smoke to leave the room again.

Once the smoke in the room cleared, Kirel ended his wind spell and turned to Jolen. “That was genius!’ he shouted. “How did you figure out that the blowing out the candles would reset the trap?” he asked.

Jolen blushed. “I actually didn’t,” he admitted while scratching the back of his head. “I was just thinking about putting out the candles to try to prolong the amount of air we had left before we all suffocated to death.”

At Jolen’s admission, the others started laughing.

Lelwyn stopped laughing first. “Now that we have been fortunate enough to survive this trap, let us press our good fortune by examining this library in detail!” he ordered.

With that, the mages started examining the books while Jolen searched for any other traps that may have been in the room. Rikel kept a look out in case anyone, or anything, tried to enter the room.

After several minutes, the group met in the middle of the room. Jolen smiled to the others. “I didn’t find any signs of other traps,” he announced.

Kirel held up the charred remains of a book. “I just found some research into necromancy theory dating all the way back to Xosha. A simple fire spell took care of those nicely,” he smiled menacingly.

Bewr let out a soft whimper. “I know that the knowledge was evil,” she admitted. “I just hate the idea of any books or research being destroyed.”

Lelwyn placed a hand on Bewr’s shoulder in comfort. “It is unwise to leave such foul knowledge behind to tempt others,” he pointed out. “Back to the matter at hand, I found naught but a list of items the Necromancer wanted procured; most of it was simple foodstuffs with the occasional reference to spell components,” he admitted.

Kirel raised an eyebrow. “So you managed to find the necromancer’s shopping list?” he joked.

Before an argument could start, Bewr held up her hands. “All I could find was copies of your standard magic tomes,” she told them.

Lelwyn nodded. “Then we had best make our way onward in search of the necromancer,” he ordered.

The group left the room to search the final door on the first floor. “We’ve searched every other door; be on your guard,” she ordered.

She then opened the door to reveal a spiral staircase going upwards. Jolen entered the stairway and looked up. “I can’t see the top,” he announced.

Bewr shrugged her shoulders. “Upwards it is, I guess,” she commented.

While the group climbed the stairs, Jolen stretched. “So, what are you plans after you stop this necromancer?” he asked to bide the time.

Kirel smiled. “I’m going to to go back to the Mage’s Academy and resume my research,” he answered.

Rikel shrugged her shoulders. “I’d probably just do more mercenary jobs,” she admitted. “Though, if Bewr can enchant my sword like I wanted, I’m not sure if I’d still need to. I guess I’d go back to being retired for a while in that case.”

Bewr chuckled. “We’re almost done with the sword,” she replied. “Other than that, I’m pretty much between jobs right now. Not that it’s too big of a deal; I make enough from the occasional enchanting job to keep me comfortable enough for my needs anyway.”

“Lelwyn here, on the other hand, “Bewr continued, “is applying to be inducted to the Order of the Golden Shield.”

Lelwyn blushed. “Bewr please,” he objected. “I am more than capable of answering such a simple query by myself. Without unnecessary boasting, I might add,” he lightly admonished.

Bewr made a face at Lelwyn. “Don’t sell yourself short,” she told him. “You know how selective the Order is when it comes to who they even considers for potential membership,” she added.

Rikel nodded. “I agree with Bewr,” she added. “Even being considered is quite the honor.”

Kirel chuckled. “I told you that I’m not the only one who sees just how special you are,” he teased, causing Lelwyn to blush fierecly.

Jolen scratched the back of his head. “I don’t exactly leave the forest often,” he admitted. “And while I’ve heard much about the Order of the Golden Shield, most of it is mutually contradictory,” he added. “What’s the truth?”

Lelwyn chuckled. “Tell me what you’ve heard and I’ll correct the falsities,” he offered.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Jolen nodded. “That sounds fair,” he agreed. “Well, the most common thing I hear is that the Order’s main requirement is an extreme devotion to the gods.”

Lelwyn laughed loudly. “While a majority in the Order may choose to follow the gods, there is actually no devotion requirement for membership,” he explained. “In fact, there are several members of the Order who all but ignore the gods.”

Jolen raised his eyebrow. “But, doesn’t your magic come from the gods?”

Instead of answering, the three mages started laughing. At Jolen’s glare, Lelwyn held up his hand. “I apologize, my elvish friend,” he placated. “We do not mean to insult. It’s just that the idea that any mage spends their morning praying to a god for their magic is one of the most bizarre fictions that has ever been invented. In truth, we know not the actual origin of magic,” he admitted.

Jolen nodded. “I suppose that makes sense,” he agreed. “After all, why would the gods willingly share their power?”

Lelwyn tapped his finger to his forehead. “A valid observation, my elvish friend,” he pointed out. “Back to your question, the Order’s main requirement is to have a desire to help others without promise of reward.”

Jolen raised an eyebrow. “Then how does the Order have enough money to do anything?” he asked.

Lelwyn laughed. “While reward is not requested, it is often freely given,” he explained. “Also, much of the nobility of Elrlith approves of the Order’s activities and they frequently make donations to it.”

Jolen nodded in understanding. “Okay. Do all members of the Order have to be able to use magic?” he asked.

Lelwyn shook his head. “There are many in the Order who have not a single magical bone in their bodies,” he answered. “In fact, Rikel here could theoretically become a member of the Order, despite her complete lack of magical skill. I mean no offense,” he quickly added to Rikel.

Rikel chuckled. “None taken!” she assured while smiling. “Being used as an example of someone who could join the Order of the Golden Shield is quite the compliment as far as I’m concerned.”

Lelwyn nodded in understanding before turning back to Jolen. “Have you any further questions about the Order?” he asked the elf.

Jolen quickly scanned another door for traps. Upon finding none, he turned back to Lelwyn. “Where’s their headquarters?” he asked.

Lelwyn shook his head. “That I yet know not,” he admitted. “That is knowledge that I would only obtain upon being fully inducted into the Order.”

Jolen nodded in acceptance. “I’m not surprised you don’t know,” he explained. “And even if you did, I’d understand you not be allowed or willing to tell me.”

Lelwyn placed his hand on Jolen’s shoulder. “Your understanding of such matters is greatly appreciated,” he said. “Was there anything else about the Order you wished to ask me about?”

Jolen shook his head. “Not that I can think of right now,” he answered.

Lelwyn smiled. “Should you think of more, inform me that I might answer,” he offered.

Jolen nodded. “I will,” he promised before checking out another room.

Rikel turned to Jolen. “You never answered your own question” she pointed out. “What are you going to do after all of this is over?”

Jolen shrugged. “Go back to what I was doing before,” he answered. “Managing my family’s property.” At the other’s confused faces, he continued. “Right, this isn’t often discussed with outsiders; the Durana family is actually considered to be something of a minor nobility among the High Elves. In fact, I’m somewhere around six-thousandth in line for the High Elf throne,” he added with modest embarrassment.

Bewr blushed. “Wow, I’ve never met someone from a royal line before,” she admitted. “Even one that was that far away from the throne.”

Jolen started laughing so hard that he nearly fell over. He managed to retain his balance by placing his hand on a nearby wall. “If enough members of the royal line died for me to have to take the throne,” he started, “there wouldn’t be enough left of the High Elf kingdom for me to have anything to rule over,” he explained.

Rikel nodded. “And, at that point, the Wood Elves would be able to attack and easily overwhelm whatever forces were left, allowing them to finally put an end to your civil war with a rather decisive victory,” she observed.

Jolen nodded. “And then there’s that,” he admitted with a smirk.

Lelwyn started laughing to himself. “I believe I finally have the beginning of an answer to the question Bewr asked you some time ago,” he announced while winking at Jolen. “It would explain much of what happened.”

Jolen smirked and nodded in response. “And just what question would that be?” he asked with fake innocence while the group looked through another room, finding nothing of interest inside.

Lelwyn smirked back. “One that isn’t important right now anyway.”

Bewr pouted. “Oh come on!” she objected. “You can’t just say something like that without giving me the details of what you figured out!” she objected loudly.

Lelwyn shook his head. “If my suspicions prove correct, it may be better for all concerned for my private theory to remain just that,” he countered.

Jolen stopped smiling and nodded seriously. “That would probably be best,” he agreed.

Kirel laughed and placed an arm around Bewr’s shoulder. “When will you finally accept that you will not be able to know everything?” he asked in a teasing voice.

Bewr shrugged his arm off of her. “Right after you accept that you need to learn about this little thing called ‘tact’ that civilized people are fond of,” she countered.

Kirel turned around and started walking backwards. “I am very well aware of what tact is,” he answered. “I just don’t care about the feelings of those beneath me,” he finished before turning back around and continuing walking.

Kirel then doubled over in laughter. Bewr looked at him in annoyance. “And just what is that you find so funny this time?” she demanded.

Kirel stood up and wiped a tear from his eye. “I just imagined the reaction of all of those noble-born elvish bigots if Telina had been crowned as the queen of the High Elves,” he answered between laughs.

Jolen tilted his head back and laughed loudly. “As my elder sister,” he began, “she would have been in line to take the throne before me,” he admitted. “All of the noble-born in Midway could barely even tolerate her existence. The idea of them having to actually bow to her in supplication...” he trailed off in laughter.

Bewr glared at Kirel. “I can’t believe you just did that,” she hissed at him.

Kirel raised an eyebrow. “What?” he asked, confused.

Bewr put her hands on her hips. “Making jokes about Telina like that!” she explained.

Jolen pulled Bewr back before she could continue. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “While I do appreciate you wanting to not tarnish her memory, jokes involving Telina are fine. As long as she’s not the target of the jokes, that is,” he added while quickly looking through another room and finding nothing of note.

Rikel smiled. “If I had her measure right,” she added, “she’d have been the one making the jokes if she was here in our place.”

Jolen smiled sadly. “That she would have,” he agreed. “And they wouldn’t have been as tame as Kirel’s,” he added.

Bewr walked up to Jolen and smiled at him sadly. “I’d like to hear more,” she announced. At Jolen’s confused look, she continued. “About the kinds of mischief Telina got into when the two of you were children,” she clarified.

Jolwn smirked. “That can easily be arranged,” he answered with a flamboyant bow.

Kirel, overhearing the conversation, joined them. “Now this I must hear,” he told them.

Jolen chuckled softly while searching another room, finding nothing of note. “Well, I already told you about how we used to steal from each other,” he started. “What I hadn’t bothered to tell you about was the time that she came home carrying an entire family of birds that she rescued from a hungry predator.”

Bewr raised her eyebrow. “When you say ‘entire family’...” she trailed off.

Jolen’s grin widened. “I mean six chicks, still in their nest, and their, very loudly squawking, mother.”

Kirel laughed. “How old was she?” he asked.

Jolen smiled. “It was shortly before her sixth harvest,” he answered. “When I discovered what she did, I, being a tease already, pretended to ask our father to cook the lot of them for supper,” he admitted.

Bewr gasped in shock. “You didn’t!” she objected.

Jolen held up his hands. “I never intended to actually eat them,” he promised. “Anyway, father realized that the birds were fine and took the nest into the attic. Within a month, they all flew away,” he concluded.

While the rest of the group laughed at his story, Jolen quickly looked over the next door for traps. Upon finding none, he nodded to Rikel who carefully opened the door. Once she saw that the room was clear and larger than any of the others they’d seen since the library, she motioned for the others to enter.

Once they entered, they saw a room with walls covered in writing. Bewr walked up to one of the walls. “This almost looks like High Elvish,” she whispered.

Lelwyn rubbed his chin. “It appears that we now have evidence as to the necromancer’s origin,” he announced. “With elvish writing on the walls and given that we’re deep within the territory of the elvish woods, the necromancer must be an elf,” he concluded.