The Stone Keeper's Quest- Elrich

As the sun set, the sky turned dark and deep. Elrich urged his horse to go faster, eager to reach his destination. A cozy cottage glowed in the gloom, barely visible with its stone walls and straw roof. A warm light shone from the open oval window, making Elrich smile. His family was still awake. He got off his horse and walked to the door. It creaked as he opened it.

“Elrich, you’re back! I was so worried,” Uncle Jeffrey exclaimed, peering at him in the dim light. He eyed the cart suspiciously and stepped out of the door and hugged Elrich briefly.

“I’m sorry I’m late, uncle. I had some trouble on the way,” Elrich apologized sincerely. He pulled away from the hug and looked at his uncle with guilt.

“Where did you get this cart?” Uncle Jeffrey asked, frowning at him. He walked around the wooden cart, inspecting it for any signs of theft.

Elrich chuckled. “Don’t worry, uncle. I didn’t steal it. I bought it,” he said. He patted the cart affectionately.

“With what money?” asked Uncle Jeffrey, raising an eyebrow.

“I bought it with the money I won from gambling, uncle,” Elrich said, smiling.

“How did you manage that?” asked Uncle Jeffrey.

“It’s a complicated story, uncle. But right now, I need your help to unload the cart,” said Elrich, opening the back of the cart.

Uncle Jeffrey leaned forward, “What do you have in there, son?” He reached out to touch the loot, but Elrich stopped him.

“It’s a piece of animal skin,” said Elrich.

“What kind of animal has such a skin?” asked Uncle Jeffrey, gasping. He pulled back his hand and looked at Elrich with astonishment.

“Let’s take it to the basement,” Elrich suggested. He looked around nervously as he grabbed one end of the dragon’s hide. He motioned for his uncle to follow him.

“This thing is heavier than it seems,” Uncle Jeffrey remarked as he lifted the other end. He grunted as he carried the hide with Elrich towards the basement hatch.

“Where are the coriander seeds, I asked you to get?” Uncle Jeffrey demanded, dropping his side of the hide. He moved to the basement hatch and lifted it.

Elrich slapped his forehead twice. He glared at Elrich with disappointment. “You forgot. She’s worse today, you know. What were you doing instead of getting the seeds?” Uncle Jeffrey asked. He sighed and shook his head again.

Elrich bit his lip and lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry, uncle. I’ll get them first thing tomorrow,” he promised. He looked up at his uncle with hope in his eyes.

“Don’t bother. I’ll do it myself. It’s the only way to make sure things get done around here,” Uncle Jeffrey said, covering the locked hatch with a rug.

Uncle Jeffrey slumped in his seat, looking weary and deflated. He was sitting on an old wooden chair with a rough cloth cushion. “I’m all ears,” he said. Elrich took the chair across from him and told him the harrowing story in vivid detail.

*****

A blackness like nightfall seeped from the hidden cave, making him shiver with dread as he entered the gloomy abyss. “Elrich!” a deep voice called. “Elrich!”

“I’m listening!” Elrich replied. He groped the wall with his left hand and stretched his right hand ahead of him. He could not see anything in this darkness as he tripped over a stone.

Elrich felt a surge of panic as a swarm of bats shrieked and brushed against him with their wings. “Sire,” Elrich said, looking up at the dragon king.

“Here, take this sword and fight,” the dragon King Gorabroth said, thrusting a Bastard sword into his hands. He towered over Elrich, his scales gleaming in the moonlight.

“But I don’t know how to use it,” Elrich said, feeling the weight of the blade.

“Take it and learn,” King Gorabroth said. He roared and breathed a stream of fire into the air. “Take it and learn.”

Elrich woke up to the sound of birds singing. He jumped out of bed, his clever mind full of ideas. He splashed his face with water as if it was urgent. He dried himself with a towel and put on his clothes.

“Uncle, I’m going out for a bit,” Elrich said.

“Stay safe,” Uncle Jeffrey said. He was sitting at the table, reading a book. He looked up and smiled at Elrich.

Elrich left through the front door and headed to the stables. “Let’s go for a ride,” Elrich said, grooming his horse with a curry comb. He then put a saddle pad on both sides and secured a high-backed horned saddle on top. He stepped on the stirrup and swung his other leg over.

Elrich raced toward the capital, defying the ravages of time with his lightning speed. The wind howled and stirred up the dust, which swirled around him like angry hornets. The dark clouds looming overhead added a dramatic touch to the scene. He dodged carts and pedestrians as he rode through the busy streets.

The army barracks lay hidden in the dense foliage east of the castle. They were surrounded by a high fence of pine logs, sharpened at the ends. Four watchtowers rose above the fence, each with three archers ready to shoot.

“Let him in!” an archer shouted at the gatekeeper. Elrich got off his horse and led Black Thunder to a pine wood rail where he tied him up.

A tanned soldier greeted him as he walked over. “What brings you here, young man?” he asked, clapping him on the shoulder.

“I came for the trials,” Elrich replied. He looked around and saw rows of tents and training grounds. The soldier pointed at a pine wood booth with an oval window.

An attendant inside glared at Elrich as their eyes met. Elrich walked briskly towards the cabin, where a stern voice greeted him. “State your business young man,” the attendant demanded, eyeing him with suspicion.

“I am here for the trials,” Elrich replied, holding his head high.

“What is your name,” the attendant asked, dipping a quill pen in an inkwell.

“Elrich Caulfield,” he replied.

“Your age,” the attendant wrote on a hemp and linen paper without looking up.

“Twenty,” said Elrich, lying by a year. He looked away from the attendant’s piercing gaze, hoping he wouldn’t notice his nervousness.

The attendant looked at him curiously, as if he could see his Pinocchio nose growing. “Why would you like to join the King’s army?” he asked.

Elrich puffed out his chest and saluted. “To protect and serve the Crown, Sir!” he said, with fiery resolve, an answer well-rehearsed.

“Do you have any special talents?” the attendant asked.

“Hunting and gambling,” Elrich said.

“Sit on that bench, you will receive your next instructions from there,” said the attendant, pointing to a wooden bench near the entrance of the arena. He handed Elrich a wooden token with a number on it. Elrich thanked him and walked to the bench, clutching his token nervously. He scanned the faces of the other recruits, wondering who he would have to face in combat.

Elrich watched as the other recruits fought in duels to demonstrate their skills, their performance would determine their admission.

“Next!” the assessing officer shouted.

Elrich snapped to attention and got up. He walked towards the arena and grabbed a bastard sword from a wooden table. He drew it from its leather scabbard and tossed the scabbard back on the table. He felt the weight of the sword in his hands, heavier than his hunting knife but not unfamiliar.

Elrich widened his stance and lowered his body for stability. He gripped the sword with both hands and lifted it over his head, taunting his rival.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” his opponent sneered, showing his stained teeth in a crooked grin. He twirled his sword in a mocking gesture, as if he was bored.

“I got this,” Elrich said, slashing his sword with force. He aimed for his foe’s neck, hoping to end the fight quickly.

The swords clashed with a metallic shriek that rang out like a cavern of dripping water. Elrich felt the shock in his arms and stumbled back. He recovered quickly and slashed at his foe, who was caught off guard. The swords met again with a spark of titanium. Elrich smiled triumphantly, thinking he had the upper hand.

The force knocked his adversary off balance and sent him crashing to the ground on his right knee. He stabbed his sword into the earth to steady himself. The crowd went wild with excitement, whistling like a swarm of snakes in the air. Elrich heard their cheers and felt a rush of pride. He raised his sword in a victory pose, forgetting to watch his foe.

Elrich sensed his chance to win and tightened his grip on his sword. He waited for his foe to catch his breath. His foe rose slowly, his eyes locked on Elrich, his jaw clenched. He looked determined and defiant, as if he wanted to save his face. He swung his sword back and forth, hitting Elrich’s blade with every strike.

Elrich felt his sword shake in his hands, then slip out of his grasp. It flew out of his reach and landed six steps away. He gasped in horror and disbelief. He looked at his empty hands, then at his foe’s smug face. He felt a surge of fear and anger.

“Pick up your sword, you big baby,” his foe taunted. Elrich responded with a punch to his left cheek. He hoped to knock him out with one hit, but he only made him angrier.

“You hit like an old lady,” the opponent taunted, spitting a stream of blood through the gap in his front teeth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned wickedly.

He discarded his sword and landed a punch on Elrich’s eye. The blow knocked Elrich off balance, and he fell to the ground like a hunted lion. A cold blade pressed against his throat.

“Do you yield, you big baby?” his opponent taunted.

“I yield,” Elrich admitted. He felt a wave of shame and humiliation wash over him. He closed his eyes and wished he could disappear.

“I can’t take him!” the instructor exclaimed. He shook his head in disappointment and frustration. He wondered how he could teach such a clumsy student.

Elrich got up and walked to his horse, feeling ashamed of his defeat. He stroked his horse’s neck and muttered, “We didn’t stand a chance today.”

An old man approached him and said, “Don’t be too hard on yourself, young man. You did your best.” Elrich nodded and thanked him.

The old man asked, “What is your motive for joining the royal army?”

Elrich glanced at him curiously and replied, “I want to hone my skills and serve the crown.”

The old man’s face was wrinkled with age, but his body was lean and strong. He wore a black leather patch over his left eye and his right arm was missing, signs of a fierce battle. He said, “I can train you.” Elrich eyed him sceptically.

The old man added, “Don’t judge me by my one arm and my blind eye. I was the First Commander of the royal army.”

Elrich exclaimed, “You were the First Commander?”

The old man snorted, “Yes, I fought many wars for King Gilfillan, but now he thinks I’m a useless cripple. Ungrateful fool.” He lifted the stump of his arm.

“How much will that cost me?” asked Elrich.

“Four gold pieces,” said the old man, holding up four fingers.

Elrich shook his head. “That’s rich for my blood.”

“Three,” said the old man, lowering one finger.

“When do we start?” Elrich said.

“Meet me here first light,” said the old man.

Elrich reached out his hand and introduced himself. “Elrich Caulfield.”

The old man shook it with his stump of an arm and said, “Gregory Palmer.”

He looked at Elrich’s bruised eye and suggested, “You should put some chamomile on that.”

Elrich chuckled and got on his horse. “I guess I’m a big baby after all.”