002 - Caspian journeys north

“Take whatever you need. Go to Terra. Find our ‘lost daughters’… Secure them from evil. Bring them here to us.” Elves can be exceedingly annoying. Those elves especially. They had given further instructions, but they were very bitter to contemplate. Caspian had been following the first part of these instructions since leaving Shalaia, at winter solstice. “Go to Terra,” he muttered. “How about something simple like ‘Go to Abaddon’.”

After leaving Shalaia, Caspian continued his trek north and west to the high reaches of another mountain range. He learned the name once, but did not care to remember it just now. He was hoping against reason to find most of the snow melting, while arriving early enough to accomplish his task with sufficient time to spare. Being in good health, Caspian had been able to journey through the winter quickly, not bothering with a horse for this leg of his journey.

He could have teleported directly to the circle, but that took more effort than he felt was necessary, and walking gave him time to think things through, and teleport to a few other places to do some research and ask a few questions, think about what he learned, and still have time to spare. A quarter of a year’s time was not much for him to worry about being late; Caspian could get to where he needed to go in just over five weeks from Shalaia. The spring equinox was the start of the best window period, at any rate. The last half moon before the summer solstice marked the end of it. Caspian was good enough that he could bruit-force his way across the distance outside of this time window. Travel between the worlds was as simple as walking, once you learned to do it. However, having the planetary bodies arranged just right made things easier.

These high mountains had lost their charm. In his 30 plus years, Caspian had seen most of the major mountain ranges of Tywacomb, his home world. That was a lot of walking. Much had been aimless wandering. Now he had a purpose. The caravan from Krogg he had spotted behind him while climbing a canyon did not improve his mood.

His staff usually marked time when he walked, thumping the ground in tune with his steps; sometimes one hand, sometimes the other, sometimes swinging between them. Just now, the blunt end was a brace, as Caspian forded a stream full of spring runoff. The cold seeped through his boots, but did little more; his feet numb from travel.

Cyrril took the moment to play. The little dragon leapt from Caspian’s shoulders and glided upstream a little. At a point with larger rocks, the little dragon folded his wings and dove through the spray to land on a smooth boulder. The water flowing over this rock swept Cyrril off and down stream for a bit. Where the water calmed, Cyrril crawled on to the bank. Spreading his wings, he shook himself off, drops of water flying for several feet. Even with the road dust rinsed off, his skin was still a light gray. After worrying a few itches, Cyrril spread his wings and leapt into the air, flying after Caspian. He flapped his wings to gain altitude, and then glided to land on Caspian’s right shoulder.

Cyrril weighed little more than a house cat, being longer nose to tail, but not as wide through his body, except for his wings. When he landed, Cyrril tended to look all around him, then once content, to doze on Caspian’s shoulders. For his species, being almost a mammal, he was still in a juvenile stage so he spent as much time on wing as at rest. But he was not native to this planet. His moving around while seeing everything sometimes annoyed Caspian. Because of Cyrril’s claws, Caspian had long since put padding around the shoulders of his coat.

“To the top of the canyon, cross the valley, follow the river approximately east up the next canyon, then up the tallest mountain. There you will find the ring.” Caspian recited this litany, learned from the old man years ago, mostly to hear something besides the stream. He was three days beyond the last village he had stopped in. The caravan had most certainly reached the village by now. Caspian hoped the village would survive.

Caspian stopped and looked around him at the frosty trees and patches of snow among the ground cover, his dark eyes taking in all the life around him. “That caravan will destroy this area going through it.” The area had not changed in the years since he had last been this way. The villagers were nice, giving a reminder of the path and location of the circle. They were used to strangers, but not an army.

The caravan had looked to be mostly soldiers from Krogg. And they were losing ground as they crossed the same trails he was traveling alone. Caspian had an edge with just Cyrril and himself to pack for, even with the closing of winter. When he had last seen them, they were an advance company of around twenty, with some pack animals and a cart.

He started moving again, his mind going full tilt while barely guiding his body up the game trail. The game trail was well used, with most of the scrub clear of it. The caravan would carve the trail into a road, just to get their carts through. Their draft beasts, being lowland animals, would like the thinning air and cold temperatures even less than the men would. Caspian felt the air thinning, having to huff a bit more each passing hour.

The sun had left the canyon in twilight before Caspian got to the top. Once there, he broke back into the daylight, and turned to face the sun for a moment, looking across the canyon he had just hiked. Putting both gloved hands on his staff, leaning with it against his left shoulder, he caught his breath. The sun was warm, but the air was distinctly chilled, his breath visible.

“It’s gon’a be cold up here.”

Cyrril chirped in agreement then nestled closer, under Caspian’s hood.

Caspian turned his back to the sun and continued into the valley. A small stand of trees found just before dark was his shelter. First, he stretched his senses, finding healthy mana, and thus healthy plants and animals. Above, like a large river in the air, flowed the ley line. It pointed better than a compass, to Caspian’s destination. Next, he drew on the ground with the foot of his staff. The symbol complete, he cast the activating spell. That would keep the predators away, as well as render potentially troublesome bugs docile. His place thus protected Caspian set to and gathered some sticks and a fallen tree.

He pulled his bush knife from behind his left hip and hacked the branches off the dead tree. He piled these aside, the longer to use for shelter, the shorter for his fire. Next, he set the log in a low crotch of a healthy tree. Shortly he had a lean-to constructed, and a ready pile of wood. Cyrril then lit the fire.

After dinner and honing his knife, Caspian gathered his coat and cloak about him, and slept under the lean-to. Cyrril went out prowling, but did not go far. This was not dragon country, and a raptor would dive on him as quickly as it would a ground rodent.

The next morning found Caspian chilled and sore. After breakfast by his fire, which was then put out, Caspian arouse, stretched a moment, and kicked the log that Cyrril was resting on.

“Time to go.”

The high valley was covered with a thick bladed grass and other plants hardy enough to thrive in the climate. As Caspian started out east again, frost highlighted everything to be seen. Lunch found him on top of a foothill, enjoying the scenery, but ruing the lack of trees on the slopes of the surrounding mountains. By dinner, he was crossing a rocky lip with snow on one side and a sharp drop to a stream on the other. He followed this sideways to find another camping spot. The ley line was thickening to his senses, and beginning to be the dominant feature that he observed.

Camp this night was not as warm or convenient as the previous night. But it was just as peaceful.

The last day, he followed the stream on the ground, or the ley line above, as the path entered a draw that would lead to the final ascent. Caspian stopped here, and set up camp in daylight, choosing to rest before starting the final climb. Cyrril helped gather some scrub for a fire, and munched on a rodent he stirred up as he did.

A constant breeze blew down the draw and over them as they rested. Finally, Caspian rolled over to sleep, as the stars began to take over for the fleeing daylight.