A New Threat Rises

Aiden arrived home, and at the gate to his farm was Dirna, her white hair rested about shoulder length, and at her side were two small children. A boy no older than eight and a girl just old enough to walk, clinging to her side and shying away from his approach. The boy was older and smiled past his mother's leg, grinning as Aiden stepped down from the saddle.

"Thealen, Amara, it hasn't been so long that you've forgotten me?" He knelt in front of Dirna and held out his hands. They both latched onto him and squeezed his neck, "Oof, what have you been feeding them?" Dirna punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind from his lungs and causing him to force a smile through the stabbing pain.

She stormed off, kicking up dust as she marched to their modest farmhouse. She paused and peeked back at him. "Welcome home." She smiled and gave him a wink before pushing past the door. Yelling back at him, “There are plenty of things that need fixing, maybe a man such as yourself could make some time?” He smiled at the children as he carried one in each arm. Closing the door, he admired the gentle beauty of his home and the peace in the calm wind rustling through the wheat.

* * *

Seven years passed quickly, and Aiden’s decorative armor and well-kept appearance were traded for a farmer's clothes and a thin cloth hat to keep the sun from his eyes. Now, a scruffy salt and pepper beard replaced the clean-shaved face of the masterful swordsman. He stepped away from the mule and plow to enjoy a cool drink of water.

Along the road, he spotted an ox pulling a cart loaded with the last hay bales of the season headed for Lomas. Aiden saw the first signs of winter from the southern plateau, and soon the biting cold would grip the valley. The city and surrounding farms were in the late stages of the season and spent the last weeks preparing for the long winter; the sound of farmers shouting filled the afternoon air.

His eyes wandered to the western field, where Dirna helped Amara bring the goats to the stable. Thealen stacked the cut wood in the shed near the house. On the air, the scent of snow drifted from the dragon’s spine mountains and the aroma of cedar burning in the fireplace.

Aiden stepped up to the plow, but the sound of hooves against the stone path drew his attention to a rider racing toward the house. The man’s clothing caused Aiden to tilt his head. Dark garments with a hood and a face covering were less favorable among those of the north. Disregarding the man’s attire, he didn’t often get visitors. Aiden would greet whoever arrived, as was the custom of the farmlands, but it was out of place. He wiped both hands down his tattered pants and offered his gloves to Thealen.

“I’ll be back. It would seem we have a visitor.” Aiden removed his hat and tossed it to Thealen. " Help your sister with the barn when they’re done moving the goats. Those pens need to be cleaned before supper.”

“Yes, sir, are we heading into town later?” Thealen asked.

Aiden froze with his back turned and tossed a gold coin over his shoulder. “Sure thing, I could use a walk. Get the chores done and I’ll toss a few more your way.”

The rider tied his horse to the hitching post at the front door.

It piqued Aiden’s interest to see that the person before him was a blonde-haired elf from Aud Nua, who was unfamiliar to Aiden. Few elves ventured into the northern reaches, and fewer still knocked on his door.

“How does the day find you?” Aiden asked.

The visitor spun around and offered a missive held in his outstretched hand, “I must ask that we dispense with the usual pleasantries. Melisande calls upon you, Aiden Oro.”

Aiden leaned against the hitching post, with a hatchet within arm’s reach next to the front step. “And what for? Also, why didn’t she make the trip?” He watched the elf move uncomfortably. The elf favored his right side and moved to avoid being in line of sight of the ridge east of the farm.

“Might we speak inside? It would seem those of the Olian have few friends of late.” The elf smiled and stepped toward the door, past Aiden. “It has been a long trip, might I have a seat out of the beating sun?”

Aiden snatched the hatchet from the side of the steps and held it to the elf. “I’ll give you one chance. What is your name? And why are you here?”

The elf stepped back, dropping the letter. The sudden movement forced him to brace what looked to be a wound. “My name is Carsis, second enchanter to the Arcanum. assassins stalk the roads and try to stop word from spreading.”

Aiden kept his eyes on Carsis while he picked up the missive.

Dearest Aiden, the Living Pantheon has fallen. A new being of power has risen in the dunes to the far south. Apolis is now a pile of rubble and ash, a tide washes over what remains of Olian with but one goal: Subjugation. Know that a few have stood against this usurper, calling herself the Divine. I call upon you once more to rally the north and converge on the city of Ciro. Please do not waste a moment, old friend, every day more die, and I fear an end comes for us all.

Lady Melissande of Ciro.

“Is this true?” Aiden dropped the hatchet and grabbed the Carisis. “Tell me, is this true?”

“Yes.” Carsis pressed harder against the wound. “We fled as this Divine, destroyed the city. Few escaped the carnage. Those that weren’t fast enough were caged and I would rather not speak of the rest.”

Aiden’s eyes moved down Carsis’ right side, to a fresh bloodstain on his shirt. “Come inside.” Aiden took Carsis by the arm and led him toward the door. “Where were the assassins?”

“They waited along the road Near Lonstap. I managed to bring one of them down, but the other got away. Bastard got me with an arrow when my back was turned.” Carsis stumbled, “I don’t have time for healing, my next stop is Iskal. We need the aid of the dwarves if we stand a chance of holding back the tide.”

Aiden pulled Carsis back up before easing him into a chair, “You’ll be a corpse along the road, a few hours is all you’ll need.”

He cut away the tunic to reveal the sour stench and burning skin around the broken arrow stem. Black striated lines spread out like webs, and pus oozed from around the wound. Aiden pulled against the piece of wood, but it didn’t budge; likewise, it caused Carsis to scream.

“Looks like it might be longer than a day.” Aiden took a knife from the table and placed it in the fire. “This will hurt, but it’s our only chance at saving your life.”

Carsis pushed to get out of the chair, “I must reach Iskal; if we delay, more will suffer at her hands.”

“If you go now, you’ll die before your feet touch the snow.” Aiden pushed him back into the chair. “I need to focus, Prowler poison isn’t such an easy thing to deal with.”

Aiden retrieved a satchel from by the door, and on the table, he placed cloth and thread. He moved a cot by the fire and helped Carsis to lie down. He removed the knife from the fire and dipped it in alcohol to cool the blade.

“The stem has barbs, I’ll need to cut it out and dress the wound. There is nothing I can do about the pain, it will be excruciating.” Aiden held the blade next to Carsis’ skin. “In advance, I’m sorry. Think of a happier time, anything other than what happens next.”

“Go ahead,” Carsis said.

Aiden gripped the stem between his fingers and pulled. with his other hand, he cut into the infected flesh and a chunk of meat from Carsis’ side.

Carsis let out a whimper and promptly fainted.

Aiden went back to work. he cut away the fetid, greenish flesh around the stem. Each pass revealed the blackened tissue around the poison. Barbs on either side held it in place, pus mixed with blood seeped from the wound.

Dirna stood in the doorway. “Need a hand?” She held a water basin and clean rags were draped over her shoulder, “saw the way he was walking, figured he was banged up.”

“Yes, hand me those.” Aiden cleaned the area before stitching the wound. Once done, he applied a salve and wrapped a bandage around Carsis. “This should hold. Love, go, have Thealen prepare my horse with enough water and food for a week.”

“Why?” Dirna asked.

“Melisande sent this elf, and assassins tried to stop him.” Aiden opened the chest by the door and collected some of his finer clothes. he draped a sheathed sword over his shoulder and took his armor from the rack by the fire. “I must speak with Farringal.”

“So you’re going to Umbris? I thought we were going to settle down?” Dirna shrugged off Aiden’s attempted embrace and stepped out the door. “I’m sorry, we’ll be here when you return.”

Aiden eyed the gift from Balessa hanging over the fireplace. He lingered for a moment and only to be snapped out of it by the sound of his horse being saddled by the stable.