The Stone Keeper's Quest- Elrich

Elrich leaned against an old oak tree that had two trunks twisted together like lovers. He gasped for air, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He had been running for hours, and he was not sure how much longer he could keep it up. He looked around, hoping to find a safe place to hide. He saw a gap in the foliage and decided to take his chances.

He pushed himself off the tree and ran towards it. He tore through the greenery, ignoring the scratches and stings of the leaves and branches. He emerged onto a dusty road that ran along a fence of maize. Elrich followed the road until he reached a rusty gate that hung half-open.

He squeezed through it and entered a farmyard. There was a barn nearby, where an old man and a young man were working. They looked like father and son, with the same broad shoulders and long tan faces. The old man was raking hay, while the young man was loading it onto a cart. They did not notice Elrich until he was almost upon them.

“Who are you?” the old man asked, dropping his rake and taking off his gloves. His hands were veined and gnarled, like the roots of an ancient tree. His eyes were hooded and weary, but they still had a spark of curiosity. He tried to straighten his back, but age had bent him too much.

The old man smiled and offered his hand to Elrich. “Forgive me, I’ve been rude. I’m Mike, but everyone calls me Old Mike. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He gestured to the small farmhouse behind him.

Elrich shook his hand cautiously. “Elrich,” he said, panting. He glanced at the horse and the cart that stood near the fence. They looked old and worn, but they were better than nothing.

“Elrich Caulfield,” he added, meeting the old man’s gaze.

“This is my son Steve. He helps me with the farm work. He’s a good lad, aren’t you, Steve?” Old Mike said. Steve nodded, but did not speak. He looked at Elrich with suspicion and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“I need a horse and a cart,” Elrich said.

Old Mike frowned. “We don’t have any to spare,” he said. He scratched his beard and squinted at Elrich.

Elrich reached under his shirt and pulled out a leather pouch that hung from his neck. He unfastened it and poured out thirteen gold pieces onto his palm.

“This should be enough to buy a new one,” he said, handing the coins to Old Mike, his eyes widened as he took the gold. He looked at Elrich incredulously.

“Are you mad?” he asked. “That’s more than this old nag and this rickety cart are worth.” He felt the weight of the coins in his hand.

“I don’t care. I just need a ride. Or two,” Elrich said, forcing a smile.

Old Mike shook his head. “Where did you get all this gold?” he asked. He could not help but wonder if Elrich had stolen it or killed someone for it.

“I’m a gambler,” Elrich said. He tried to sound casual, but his voice was tense.

“You must be a lucky one,” Old Mike said. He did not believe him, but he decided not to argue.

“Some days more than others,” Elrich said. Old Mike studied him for a moment. He noticed the tear in his shirt and the dirt on his face.

“Are you running from something?” he asked. He sensed that Elrich was hiding something.

“No, no. I just had a little accident on the road. Nothing serious,” Elrich lied. Old Mike did not look convinced, but he did not press further.

“Well, suit yourself. You can have the horse and the cart. But you should clean yourself up a bit. You won’t impress any ladies looking like that,” he said. Steve snorted and made a sound like a snake hissing.

Elrich ignored him and looked at the horse. It was a large black stallion with a white blaze on his forehead. He looked old and tired, but he still had some spirit in his eyes.

“What’s his name?” Elrich asked.

“Black Thunder,” Old Mike said, nodding at a black horse that stood in a corner of the barn. “He’s the best horse I have. He’ll take you where you need to go.”

“Steve, hitch him up to the cart for our guest,” Old Mike said.

Steve did as he was told, quickly and skillfully attaching the horse to the cart. He had grown up around horses and knew how to handle them. Elrich reached out his hand and stroked the horse’s mane, feeling its coarse texture. Elrich climbed onto the cart and grabbed the reins. He looked at Old Mike and smiled. Old Mike turned to Elrich and winked. “You’re lucky, Mr. Caulfield. Black Thunder doesn’t let just anyone ride him.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Old Mike,” he said. He spat on his hand and offered it to the old man. Old Mike spat on his own hand and shook Elrich’s. His eyes sparkled with joy.

“Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Caulfield,” he said. Elrich flicked the reins and urged Black Thunder forward. The horse neighed and broke into a gallop, pulling the cart behind him. Elrich waved goodbye to Old Mike, who waved back from his field.

Elrich rode for fifteen minutes, following the road that led to the forest. He looked up and saw a flock of turkey vultures circling in the sky. The scavengers smelled carrion. They wanted the dragon king’s corpse.

He also knew that he was not the only one who had seen the dragon king fall from the sky. As he watched, he saw four figures flying down from the sky on wooden sticks. They were witches, wicked women who practiced dark magic. They landed near the dragon corpse and dismounted from their sticks. They began to talk among themselves, gesturing at the carcass.

Elrich stopped his cart and got off. He patted Black Thunder on the neck and whispered, “Stay here, boy.”

He walked into the bushes, moving quietly and carefully. He reached a spot where he could see the clearing without being seen himself. He crouched behind some branches and peered through them. He could not hear what the witches were saying, but he could tell they were arguing about something. They had their sticks piled up next to them, within easy reach.

Elrich knew he could not cross the clearing without attracting their attention. He hoped they would leave soon, so he could get his share of the dragon loot.

*****

King Gilfillan II lifted his left hand in a silent command and yanked the reins with his right. His warhorse snorted and halted, and the rest of the cavalry followed suit. He scanned the sky with narrowed eyes, searching for the source of the dark shapes that circled above. “Witches,” he spat, pointing with his sword. His face was twisted with disgust.

He turned to his First Commander, Zachary. “Take some men and scout ahead. Find out how many of them there are.” Zachary nodded and slid off his saddle. He picked four of his best soldiers and motioned them to follow him. “As you wish, Sire” said the First commander.

“But be careful. They may have more tricks than we can handle,” said King Gilfillan. He watched them go with a worried frown, then turned to the rest of his army. He raised his voice and tried to sound confident. “Prepare yourselves, men. We are about to face the most elusive enemy this kingdom has ever known.” He gripped his sword tightly and prayed to the gods for victory.

First commander Zachary disappeared into the thickets, leaving the king and his men to wait and watch.

*****

Andrea knelt beside the carcass and prodded it with her flying stick. The flesh was charred and stiff, but she could still make out the scales and claws. She pointed at the massive creature lying on the sand, its scales glittering in the sun. “Madeleine, what is this thing?” she asked, looking up at her friend.

Madeleine’s eyes were wide with awe and fear. “This is a creature of legend,” she whispered.

Gianna scoffed and kicked a stone. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no such thing as legends.” She glanced at Kiara, who shrugged and said nothing.

“A dragon,” Madeleine said, ignoring them. “This is a dragon.” Gianna rolled her eyes. “And how do you know that, Miss Know-it-all?” she snapped.

Madeleine held out her hand. “Give me your calabash,” she said.

Gianna clutched her calabash to her chest. “No way. You should have brought your own water.” She pulled out the cork and took a long gulp. “Ah, that’s better.” She wiped her mouth and grinned. “You want some?” she taunted Madeleine.

Madeleine shook her head. “I don’t want to drink your stupid water, Gee. I want to show you something.” Gianna sighed and handed her the calabash. She didn’t trust Madeleine, but she was curious about what she had in mind.

“Fine. But don’t waste it.” Madeleine poured some water on the ground near the dragon’s wound. The water seeped into the sand in seconds, leaving no trace. She glanced at the others, who watched her with curiosity and suspicion.

“Now look at the blood,” Madeleine said. She pointed at the dark red liquid that stained the sand around the dragon.

Gianna frowned. “What about it?” she asked impatiently. She shifted her weight from one foot to another, eager to leave this place.

“Don’t you know the legend?” Madeleine said. “The blood of dragons never leaves the earth. It is-”

“-rejected by the ground because of its dark magic,” Kiara finished, her voice low and serious. She looked at Andrea, who nodded solemnly. They exchanged a meaningful glance, as if they shared a secret.

“And it is a vital ingredient for many of the spells in the Sacred Book of Shadows,” Andrea added. They all stared at the blood, which pooled around the dragon like a crimson halo.

Gianna licked her lips. “We should collect it,” she said suddenly.

Andrea smiled and agreed. “Good idea.” She winked at Kiara, who smiled back.

Madeleine raised her hand and muttered a word. The blood rose from the ground and formed a sphere in the air. It grew larger as more blood dripped from the dragon’s body and joined the sphere. Madeleine reached for her flying stick and said another word. The stick flew into her hand. She looked at the blood sphere with satisfaction and pride.