Aglanthol 1 - The Legend of Khaalindaan - 11. Chapter 11

They took a close look at the traces. Someone had come from the west. Gwyn had either met the stranger and they moved on together, or the stranger was following Gwyn.

Qildor examined the traces.

"If they had met here, then they would have halted and probably would have talked to each other. The snow would be trampled down," Qildor said. "But both of them moved on at a steady pace."

Qildor pointed at a trace.

"Look at the size of this foot print. I’m certain a man is following Gwyn," he said.

Qildor and Magath exchanged a look. Magath shivered and it was not only because of the cold.

"Who could that be?" Qildor asked.

"I have no idea," Magath replied in a low voice.

"We need to find her, Magath. She can’t be far," Qildor said in a pressed voice.

They moved on and fastened their steps. They stopped short at a cruel shout. Qildor’s heart almost stopped. He threw away the blankets that he was carrying. Qildor pulled a knife from under his cloak, and then he started to run. Within a second he had turned into a soldier and warrior. Qildor stopped thinking and acted on his instincts. Adrenaline flushed his body. He moved fast and yet without a noise. His movements were fluent and smooth. Magath, despite being used to the climate and the territory, soon dropped behind Qildor.

Qildor moved in the direction that the shout had come from. So far, he had not heard another sound or voice. The voice had been a male voice. The man had cried out a single word. But Qildor had not understood it. However, he knew from the tone of the voice that the man was wild and enraged.

Qildor stopped when he heard the crackle of twigs. He stood motionless and even stopped breathing. Qildor listened attentively. Someone was not far from him. The person was moving ahead quickly. ‘The man,’ Qildor thought. ‘Gwyn would not be able to move that quickly.’

Qildor followed the man. He carefully avoided making any noise. His long years of training and experience proved advantageous. Qildor caught up with the man slowly. He seized his knife tightly. And then he spotted the man.

The man in front of him stopped and so did Qildor. Qildor pressed his body against the trunk of a tree. He gazed into the direction of the stranger. Qildor saw a figure dressed in a dark cloak with a hood. The man moved again. He moved from left to right and back. ‘Looking for something’, Qildor thought. The man was restless. Suddenly, he let out another furious yell. ‘Crazy,’ Qildor thought. ‘And therefore dangerous.’ Where was Gwyn?

Qildor peered into the forest and listened more attentively. But he did neither spot the woman nor did he hear her voice. ‘Dead.’ The word crossed Qildor’s mind, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. Qildor focused more on his senses. The man had stopped moving meanwhile.

He let out another yell. And then something happened that Qildor had not seen coming. A ball of energy shot from the man’s body. The ball emanated a white light that almost blinded Qildor. Heat radiated from the magic ball that quickly moved in Qildor’s direction. Qildor stood petrified for a second, but then he moved aside quickly. The energy ball missed him and retreated to its sender quickly. Qildor gazed after it. The ball hit the man and the man yelled again. He turned into Qildor’s direction. Qildor saw the man’s face clearly. And although the man grimaced and looked like a maniac, Qildor recognized him at once. The man was the peasant Dran. Dran held a long sword in his hand.

Qildor felt a punch to the midriff. He grasped in an instant what had happened to Dran. The man had found Norlorn’s sword and had removed it from the ground. He had released Khaalindaan’s destructive energy. Neldor’s words flashed through Qildor’s mind. ‘This energy lives on pure hatred. Once released, the energy will thirst for blood and revenge. Any peasant could retrieve the sword. The energy would possess the man and then work on Aglanthol’s ruin. The energy wants to complete its mission.’

Qildor gazed at the furious man in front of him. Dran moved from one side to the other. He looked like a lion in a cage. Each time he stopped, Dran grimaced or let out a yell and an energy ball shot from his body. However, it moved back to Dran at once.

‘Khaalindaan’s energy has not yet fully taken him over,’ Qildor thought while watching Dran. So far, neither Dran nor the evil spirit had spotted him. From what he watched, Qildor could say that the energy ball had only moved accidentally in his direction. This, however, could change very soon. Qildor pressed his body more against the trunk of the tree. He stiffened when he heard the crackle of twigs behind him. Qildor sensed somebody next to him. He saw Magath out of the corner of his eye. The man had caught up with him.

"Quiet," Qildor hissed.

Magath did not respond. But Qildor sensed Magath’s fear. Magath, luckily, remained silent. Qildor turned his attention back to Dran.

Dran suddenly straightened. He rolled his eyes and then stood upright gazing up at the sky. His hands held the sword tightly. Suddenly, a shiver ran through Dran’s body. He lowered his eyes and gazed at Norlorn’s sword in disbelief. And then he laughed like a maniac and flung the sword away. Dran raised his arms in the air and gazed grimly into the forest.

"Free," Dran yelled. His voice was dark and hollow. It sounded not like Dran’s.

Qildor stood motionless. All he perceived was his heartbeat and the events in front of him.

Dran stood, his arms raised in the air. He focused and gathered strength. He condensed his energy and brought together his vital forces until he felt bodiless, until he felt he was a mere spot of energy in space and time. This happened in an instant, not even the blink of an eye. And then a ball of energy shot from his body, yet returned to Dran in an instant.

"Free," the man yelled again. His demeanour and the expression on his face had changed. A man with a grim and cold-blooded look stood in the forest and raised his arms in the air. He stretched and straightened. A satisfied smile came to his lips as he lowered his arms slowly. However, the content look on his face disappeared suddenly and Dran, or whoever or whatever he was, cast a sharp look in Qildor’s direction.

‘His vital energy got the wind of me,’ Qildor thought. He was surprised how calm he was.

Dran gave a satisfied laugh.

"Aglanthol. Doomed to fall," Dran shouted in a dark and hollow voice.

He pointed in Qildor and Magath’s direction. And then he raised his arms again. He focused and gathered strength once more. And then an energy ball shot from Dran. It moved in Qildor and Magath’s direction. The ball emanated a white light. Heat emanated from it. The energy ball reached Qildor and Magath in an instant. The heat singed their hair and their skin. Magath let out a frightened cry, and then the man started to run.

"Stop," Qildor cried out.

But Magath ignored him. He ran into the forest. The energy ball followed him. Qildor looked after the ball. He felt petrified for a second, but then he followed Magath. Qildor ran as fast as he could.

Dran, or whoever or whatever the man was, still stood motionless, his arms raised in the air. But his face showed no expression and his look was empty. His vital forces had left him and were chasing Magath. Magath had stumbled and had fallen to the ground and thus the energy ball had missed him. The energy ball had moved farther ahead and only bit by bit slowed down. Khaalindaan’s vital forces had united with Dran’s and thus the energy was less target-oriented. Dran did not strive for destruction. However, Khaalindaan had forced his willpower into the energy and it would be only a matter of time until Khaalindaan’s spirit would take Dran over completely.

Qildor had reached Magath. He helped him up and dragged him along. They hid behind a rock. They ducked just in time when the energy ball returned and shot past them. Qildor rose to his feet and peered in Dran’s direction. He saw from afar that Dran’s body stood motionless. Suddenly, however, the man collapsed to the ground. Dran lay still. The energy ball returned to Dran’s body and apparently entered it. Dran had convulsions. And then the tortured body got to its feet again. Dran raised his arms in the air like a zombie. Another energy ball shot from him and moved in Qildor’s direction.

"Khaalindaan," a voice called out suddenly.

Qildor’s heartbeat almost stopped. He recognized the voice. It was Gwyn’s. Qildor turned his head. He spotted the woman. She stood not far from them with Norlorn’s sword in her hands.

"No," Qildor cried out.

But Gwyn ignored him. She raised the sword.

"No, Gwyn," Magath cried out. His gaze was panic-stricken.

Gwyn stood motionless.

At hearing his name, Khaalindaan’s vital energy responded. It focused on Gwyn. The energy ball moved in her direction.

Gwyn looked into the blinding light of the energy ball without even once closing her eyes. The heat singed her hair and her skin, but Gwyn did not give it a thought. She raised Norlorn’s sword more. The blade grew blazingly hot as the energy ball touched it. But Gwyn did not loosen her grip. Instead, she called out to Khaalindaan again. The energy tried to attack Gwyn more forcefully. The heat that the energy ball emanated grew almost unbearable. Norlorn’s sword turned red-hot from the heat. The heat scorched Gwyn’s hands. But Gwyn ignored the severe pain.

Qildor and Magath stood petrified and watched the fight between Khaalindaan or what had remained of the man and the old woman who stood steadfast and with a grim look on her face. Finally, Qildor moved ahead in order to help Gwyn.

"Stop," a masterful voice ordered.

Qildor and Magath turned abruptly. Gwyn had not even taken notice of it.

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