Chapter 2 Chapter 4

- Chapter 3: Brimulung -

The blow never came. Instead, a sharp scream of terror suddenly cut short echoed through the hills. Warm liquid splattered on Keir's face, followed by the clunk of an armor-covered body tumbling on the rocks. Cracking his eyes open, he saw Black Muraga looming over him and pointing a gory sword at his throat. Glancing left, he was met by the glassy-eyed stare of the knight who'd nearly killed him.

"You--you saved my life!" Keir puffed, his breath returning.

"You saved mine first. Now, rebel, get up!" ordered Black Muraga as he wiped his brow.

"B-but--" Keir stammered, confused at the knight's coldness, although he obeyed.

"My duty is to bring you back to Ducor Adta-Hars alive. But first you will help bury these knights and free those Brimulung," he said, pointing towards the bags.

Suddenly, Pranzik sprang astride one of the horses with surprising agility.

"Pranzik!" shouted Black Muraga. "What are you doing?"

The High Priest's black eyes narrowed, focusing on Keir, and the youth could feel the penetrating hatred in them. It chilled his soul and he knew terror as never before, the terror that bespeaks eternity in the lightless demon pits of Meth. Then Pranzik raised an arm and pointed a finger at him.

"Now, blasphemer, die knowing the wrath of almighty Teivos!"

Yet even as the High Priest spoke, the power Keir had felt only as a tremor in Onaonte's pommel suddenly surged alive within him, as if erupting from his very soul. He felt helpless, unable to control this power; indeed, it seemed to possess him, an entity unto itself. He was only vaguely aware of a narrow black beam exploding from Pranzik's outstretched finger. For a moment, he thought he would die but then the power inside him expanded so that it surrounded his body in a brilliant shell of white light. There was a sudden impact and he staggered, but the white light held, shielding him.

"Damn you!" hissed Pranzik, his voice devoid of all human quality. Then the High Priest cackled, a mad, frustrated laugh. "But you, Muraga, you are a dead man. All Lebec will soon learn of your alliances with the rebel traitors and the blueskins." He slapped his horse's haunch with one hand while firing his black beam in a sweeping motion at the remaining horses with the other. They crumpled, lifeless. Pranzik's horse reared, eyes wide and hooves pawing the air, then galloped thunderously along the beach, kicking up stones and debris.

"Bloodsucking bastard!" shouted Black Muraga as the High Priest raced by the two men while they stood helplessly. Pranzik howled again, then disappeared around a bend, although his laughter echoed tauntingly for several moments more.

As the echoes faded, the knight turned to face Keir, who still stood by the river's edge. A faint shimmering glow lingered about him.

"How long have you been a wizard, rebel?"

Keir shook his head slowly, staring disbelievingly at his arms as the glow faded away. "This has never happened to me before. I don't understand."

He glanced up, meeting Black Muraga's steely gaze. The knight appeared both angry and confused. "But what about you? What did Pranzik mean when he called you 'a dead man'?"

Black Muraga's shoulders drooped and the anger in his eyes drained away. "Pranzik hates me for many reasons, most of all because I lay open the lies of the Voryaki religion. I still worship the old gods, you see, and there's nothing he can do about it since both soldiers and commoners would revolt if I were to be done away with. But now he has his chance to accuse me of treason since he watched me help you. Once the word is out that I helped both a rebel and the Brimulung, I am indeed a dead man. No judge would support me for fear of his own life. It doesn't even matter if I bring you in as my prisoner. I'll be convicted before I reach the capital."

"Why don't you chase after him?"

The knight snorted. "On foot? Do you know whom you're talking about? Pranzik is the High Priest, the most powerful, most deadly of all of Teivos' priests. You must have heard the rumor that he gave his soul to Mangan, god of the Black Magic, for the inhuman powers he possesses." Keir nodded.

"Fortunately, he's also a coward when the odds are against him. However, he has only to reach the Egther fortress and alert the garrison and I'm trapped in these hills. He has some way of magically transporting himself from the temple in Egther back to the temple in Ducor Adta-Hars. By tonight I'll be branded a traitor by King Savonna."

He kicked the rocks in frustration and started to turn away, then suddenly wheeled back.

"And my family! What will Savonna and Pranzik do to them?" The despair in Black Muraga's eyes was so evident that Keir's heart clenched sympathetically.

Reaching out, Keir lightly clasped the knight's arm and asked, "Why don't you come with me then? I'm sure we could get help there."

Black Muraga cocked an eyebrow inquiringly. "Where are you headed?"

Keir was surprised but pleased that Black Muraga seemed willing to listen. "To Mt. Alusia." As he mentioned the mountain, the bags began squealing and squirming furiously.

Black Muraga grinned, masking the pain he felt. "Oh, my. We've forgotten all about the Brimulung. Fetch your sword and help me free them. In the meantime I'll consider your offer."

Keir glanced around until he spotted his sword resting in the shallow water, the blade gleaming dimly. He retrieved it, drying it on his breeches.

By the time he reached the large burlap sacks, Black Muraga had already freed one Brimuli and was untying the bag of another. The short man was muttering something about being treated so rudely. Keir chuckled and began freeing one of the stocky men. He found their hands and feet bound with thick rope, mouths stopped with large pieces of wool and eyes covered with strips of heavy cloth. The only thanks he and Black Muraga received were grumbles of pain, indecency and complaints of not being the first to be untied.

Once all the Brimulung had finished grumbling and had smoothed out their brightly-colored clothing, they formed a semi-circle around Keir and Black Muraga. Although they reached no higher than the middle of his chest, their bodies were twice as thick as his own were. Twigs and bits of grass caught in their hair and long, bushy forked or braided beards were picked out as they stood. All had pale, bluish-tinged skin. It was not the purple-blue caused by suffocation; rather it was a faint sapphire coloration that seemed to collect where their skin was thickest, like the edges of their bulbous noses or floppy ears or the knuckles of their pudgy fingers.

One of the Brimulung, much older than the others, began interrogating them.

"We would like to know why we were so ill-treated, your names, where you hail from and what your business is here so close to Nasaus where no man dwells."

"Most certainly, my gracious Brimulung," answered a seemingly serious Black Muraga. Although his posture, voice and face were under control, Keir could see a glitter in his eyes laughing at the mannerisms of the Brimulung and realized that he, too, found the short men humorous.

"Those who treated you so poorly are now dead," said Black Muraga. "Let us not dwell on them. My name is Muraga Hurglasson, a knight of Lebec. I'm also known as Black Muraga." He flicked one of his long black braids over his shoulder. "I visited your fair city once before, about twenty years ago."

"Why, of course," said the Brimuli while the others voiced their familiarity with Black Muraga. "Your name is still spoken well of for your heroic deeds in the Oomglas Wars. But who, in the king's name, is your companion?"

Keir faltered for a moment, not knowing what to say, then stammered, "My name is Keir Jorinsson, sir. I'm from the hills north of here." He pointed in the general direction he'd come.

"Ahh," said the leader to Black Muraga. "But what is he doing out here?"

"Keir is an infamous renegade who has been chased out here by priests of The Voryaki and King Savonna's knights." Surprised murmurs and nodding approvals came from the Brimulung. "However, due to the evil desires of my men, who are now dead, you were captured instead."

"But why did they pursue you here, Keir Jorinsson?" asked the leader.

"Well, I was headed for Mt. Alusia." At that, several Brimulung raised their eyebrows.

Befuddled, Keir blurted, "Well, that's where Bautista told me to go! He said I'm supposed to meet him there." He thought as soon as he'd mentioned the wizard's name that no one else would know who he was talking about.

"The Carnelian Wizard?" When Keir nodded, the leader announced, "Let us not delay the lad any longer. Bury the bodies quickly and let us be on our way. It is not good to keep a Wizard of the Grand Order waiting. Besides, Black Muraga, if he cannot help you then no one can."

Keir shot the knight a questioning glance. The man shrugged his shoulders as if to say, 'Why not?' and then joined the Brimulung.

Soon they were plodding towards the great mountain, which now dominated the western sky. The leader turned to the two men.

"My dear Black Muraga and Keir Jorinsson, may your beards grow ever longer." He said this despite the fact that Black Muraga wore but a mustache and only little bits of stubble protruded from Keir's chin.

"Allow me to introduce my fellows and myself." Pointing to the Brimuli who walked along Black Muraga's right, he said, "This is my esteemed cousin Doimbur, a hunter zhorun whose fame as a hunter is exceeded only by his fame as a storyteller." Doimbur doffed his cap and bowed his head, on which the thick black hairs were turning silver. His forked purplish-black beard was a tangled mess.

"Next to him is his son Dhorun who, though but a youth and hunter zhor, is already proving to be as great a tracker as ever there was." Dhorun awkwardly imitated his father's bow. His purplish-black beard was barely long enough to be forked.

The leader then directed their attention to the three Brimulung walking at the rear of the group. "These are the sons of Gralin: Ghali, Khali and Thali. All are delvers zhorah and well known for their ability to hear the richest veins of gold pumping through any shaft." The three brothers' clothes were coated with dust and all had fiery orange hair on their heads and faces.

"Brabin and Brobin, warriors zhorun and valiant heroes of the wars with the Oomglas, the Ice Giants. They are home on leave." The twins, who walked ahead of the company, were much taller than most Brimulung, reaching within a fingerwidth or two of the men's chins. Their thick red hair and beards draped hardy faces. They were the only ones with braided beards; a symbol Keir later learned indicated the warrior caste. A long fang of some great beast dangled at the end of each of their seven braids. Brobin, who also wore a black eyepatch, muttered something about how embarrassed he was to have been captured by mere humans.

"And I myself am named Orudaza, Captain of the King's Guard." Orudaza was shorter than the twins were but just as muscular. He wore the gold and black uniform of the King's Guard and his braided silver-gray beard was tucked far under his golden belt.

Suddenly, Dhorun cried out, pointing westward, "The Bridge of Calis! There it is!"

Keir gazed up, spotting the legendary stone arch bridge less than a mile away. Black Muraga explained that it not only designated the traditional Lebec-Nasaus border, but also symbolized the long friendship between the two nations, which in recent years had so rapidly deteriorated. The mighty construction, built by decree of Calis, an ancient king of Lebec, spanned the Aria River thirty-manheights above the thrashing waters and had survived thirty centuries of war and weather. There were no other travelers on the five-chariot-width bridge, although a dozen Brimulung guards and several horses were posted on the Nasaus side. They crossed and continued on.

Keir was silent for much of the rest of the day's march. Sometimes he listened to the wild, boastful tales of Doimbur and the twins; each of their stories seemed an attempt to top the previous one in its magnificence of magic and monsters and its extravagance of feats and mayhem. But more often than not, he mulled over what had happened at the beach.

That was the White Magic back there, he thought. I've no doubt of that. But where did it come from? I certainly didn't have Onaonte when that shell formed and stopped Pranzik's black beam.

Keir rested his hand on his sword's pommel as he glanced over his shoulder at Black Muraga talking with Thali. My sword certainly doesn't feel different, even when I first picked it up out of the river. That means it came from within. Yet didn't I sense the White Magic to be almost some sort of sentient being? I wish Father were with me. He would've been able to understand all of this. Maybe Bautista can help when he reaches Mt. Alusia.

He wondered about Black Muraga as well, and whether or not the wizard really would be able to help rescue the knight's family. There was something special about the man, something more than awe-inspiring legends. The youth hoped that Black Muraga might somehow accompany him on his quest.

Resting his hand on Onaonte's pommel, Keir's fingers caressed the worn, leather-wrapped hilt. Its reassuring touch, the gentle tremor of power, which ran continually through the sword, had grown to become an anchor in his life and the unceasing turmoil he'd faced since his father's death. He smiled grimly. This quest was already more than he'd expected.