I will have some fun today with the recent thing I wrote about a Wizard staff called Cloven. There are several worlds to create in this saga. That’s a lot of material to mine. That is an awesome thing about writing short form. New ideas happen and it’s loads of new material. The best way to subscribe is to get a book. I will add you as a paid subscriber, and you get all of my material.
Duurwe was an old Wizard. He advised and guarded his people from a lofty vantage. Loved by his people, he wanted for nothing while providing protection and timely counsel. He was a detriment to dragons in his realm, Loftus. Loftus traversed mountain ranges mingled with the clouds. These ranges were called Fleir and Fauna.
Beyond the reach of Fauna, the far range, was the deep, cavernous Valley of Deeproot. Across the Deeprot Valley was another range known as Gheera. The people of Gheera were not unfriendly, but their distance did not afford them the protections of Duurwe. They did require protections from the dragons in their realm.
Gheera defended their realm with collective efforts by the people, who used a method of horse carried messengers, as well as the skills of two Wizards. Their names were Prayerbit and and Fuertis. They were passionate and dutiful, but did not yet have the strength or the wisdom of experience of Duurwe.
Duurwe had a dream that he was visited by a messenger from Gheera. The dream was urgent, and he awaited the messenger, knowing that one would come. He knew that the travel through Deeproot was treacherous and harsh. It was a land of expelled and banished men, and ogres. These lost souls would never dare to leave the valley, but to enter into their domain was a great risk to anyone seeking passage.
In the time of a day and a half, Duurwe saw that a near giant, on a fierce and muscular horse, was making his way up the path to his hermitage. He saw that this messenger was wounded, and slumped, but making eye contact as the horse sauntered up the trail.
Immediately Duurwe made a friendly hand signal to the messenger, bidding him to approach, and then he retreated into his hermitage to gather medicine and salve. The titan dismounted, and his knees buckled, under his weight.
Bearing water, medicine and salve, Duurwe prepared a dressing.
“Duurwe, you are a wise and generous friend to our people. I have come to bring you a warning.”
“Son, tell me your name, I was apprised by a dream that you would be arriving. I have been waiting, ready for you. There is food for you, and you will stay here until you are fit to leave, by my order.”
“My name is Aramin, I am the son of Dressel and Miara. I have been charged by my people to address you.” Aramin informed him. “My horse is called Malthune, and he is in need of water and rest.”
“And this good steed shall have all he needs as well, good son.” Duurwe assured him and he stroked the strong nose of Malthune. “Address me as I tend to your wounds.”
“We have intercepted plans that the terrible dragon Grantless has designs on your mountains. He has pledged your lands to the exiled of Deeproot, in exchange for their allegiance.”
“Sit on this bench young giant, as I must center on your flesh.” Said the wise Duurwe. The messenger, sitting on the bench, watched as Duurwe pressed one hand onto the girth of his freshly dressed arm, and with the other hand he spun his staff upside down, expelled some saliva onto the ground and pressed the head of the staff firmly into the resulting mixture. Duurwe then closed his eyes and bowed his head so that the brim of his cap covered the shoulder above the wound. With intense focus Duurwe took a deep breath and exhaled on the arm. There was a warmth and a wave of energy that flowed through the arm, and then the body of the young giant, giving him new energy and alertness.
“Son you will sleep very well tonight, in moments you’ll relax and fall asleep till morning. This strength you have received will carry you into my shelter, but find the bedding near the back quickly. You’ll have great need to eat in the morning. Go inside now. I will see to Malthune. In the morning, we will eat.”
The End
679 Words
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