Crossroads

- 790 A.E - 31st of Octi -

- Clipvegge Pass - 146 km south of Jórhnstead - 


Myria walked over to the spot she had last seen her companion and crawled on top of the massive pile of rocks that now covered the trial. 

Looking down through a hole with her red-pink goggles, she found him without any effort.

'Are you done playing hide and seek?'

Wolrick peeked carefully through one of his eyelids with his back against the slope. What he saw was impressive, to say the least.

The pile of rocks that had buried him in a protective shell was actually...

'A Mountain Troll!' The young man exclaimed in surprise, remembering the bedtime stories his mother used to tell him when he was young.  

Myria sputtered and laughed from the thing's shoulder. 'Nonsense, this is a summoned Golem. Come on, climb up. Unless you intend to stay here.'

'What about the...the ponies?' Wolrick asked in despair. The animals were buried under piles of rock that looked like... 

'The Golem's hands, yes,' Myria said amused, following his every movement. She stretched out a helping hand towards Wolrick. 'Don't worry. Rocky here has them firmly in his grip. He won't squeeze them to death either.'

Just who is she, really? The warrior wondered and eyed the creature of stone suspiciously. He wasn't entirely convinced it wasn't a Troll yet.  

The Golem seemed to be completely cut out of the cliff nearby. Crude facial features were distinguishable from the stone that made out its head. A gaping mouth with wide open eyes which burned with the same colours as Myria's. Cracks ran here and there over the Golem's body, and they too glowed with the same light too.  

Wolrick swallowed, but he grabbed Myria's hand, right after he had picked up his axe and found himself a niche to settle in; namely "Rocky's" other shoulder. 

'Hold on tight. For this is going to get rumbling and rolling,' the mage grinned. Then she addressed the Golem. 'Autem,' she commanded.

Immediately the tank of stone rolled into motion.  While it did so, however, the Golem moved its craggy torso slightly away from the slope. 

'Shit!' Wolrick cursed as he grabbed for more grip on the thing's shoulders. He eyed the arms and hands of stone. The ponies seem to be alright-ish.

They were wild with panic, but the only thing they could do was kick or flail weakly with their hind-legs and heads.

Looking over his shoulder briefly into the deep abyss below, Wolrick swallowed when he suddenly noticed another disturbing fact. 'This thing doesn't have any feet!' He shouted.

Myria grinned at him as the Golem sped up along the steep rocks of the pass in a ground-eating pace. 'It doesn't need feet. All it needs is stones and rocks.'

Wolrick watched as the rocks in question moved in rotation along the mountainside sceptically. 'How can "Rocky" move his...rocks like that?' He asked. 

Although magic was great with its seemingly endless possibilities, the young man still had to get used to it. He liked things to make sense. Magic didn't, but he couldn't deny how useful it was. I even asked for this just a few hours ago. He reminded himself.

The mage's gaze declared him mad. 'Stop asking stupid questions when you can see the proof in front of your eyes,' she laughed with a glint of ecstasy in her own.

A cold wind blew into the young warrior's face as the Golem rolled it's way up and up. About half an hour went past. In the meantime, Wolrick kept a close watch on the animated thing's path at first. When he had gotten used to the feeling a little bit, he turned his head and took in the view of the landscape of the north once more.

Far, far in the distance was home. I wonder when I will see it again. He thought.

Turning his sight towards the slopes of the mountains again, he frowned, being slightly worried. 

'Myria?'

'Yes? What?'

Pointing with his finger, the young warrior indicated the way ahead. 'I think we should go around tha-'

'Nonsense. Just grab tight and don't worry. Rocky won't let us fall,' she said full of confidence. 

'Not worry?! But that's a freakin-'

'Hold on!'

'Oh, I will! Don't mind me riding along.' Wolrick said. She is nuts, but then again I am probably too, he reflected.

The world literally turned upside down for a terrifying moment. He felt the pull of gravity on his body with his hair obeying its will. His organs hit his throat like something heavy bumping into the other (in)side of a bag. And then it was over as fast as it had started.

The Golem halted and stood still on top of a plateau. They had reached the other side of the Clipvegge Pass.

The tank of stone let go off the ponies who were exhausted from stress. Even though they tried to get on their hooves and flee, with their shaky legs, they had no chance of doing so.

Wolrick carefully slid off the Golem's back. With his legs feeling as solid and stable as a jellyfish, he cursed at Myria who was placed respectfully on the ground by the Giant of rock.

'That was a damn overhang!' He flung at her.

She smiled slightly with not a word escaping from her lips. 

*Fwush!* 

Without warning the fire in her eyes extinguished. Myria gasped and leaned on her staff for support while breathing heavily. 

Behind the mage, the Golem cracked and crumbled into a big heap. 

'Ugh! Ughuh! Ulgh!' Myria coughed specks of blood in front of her feet and swiped a shaky hand across her mouth. Her tongue tasted iron, and her hand smelled likewise and felt wet. She looked at it and saw red splatters running across. My nose is bleeding too. She realised.

'Help me,' the mage whispered just before she fell unconscious to the ground. 

'Myria. Myria?' The young man stumbled towards her. He kneeled, turned her body on its back and held her up in his arms. A quick check with his ear next to her mouth revealed she was breathing but raggedly.

Magic comes at a cost. He concluded his observations on her. The warrior continued with his immediate surroundings. 

This high up in the Northern Heimr Mountains nor trees, nor plants grew. The plateau that he was standing on was enormous. It waved variably up and down, creating little valleys with small streams at the lowest points. The surface was covered with stone, snow and earth. Higher mountaintops nearby showed a similar kind of landscape. 

The trial they had been following crawled its way out of the pass just some distance away to Wolrick's right. It then slid along the plateau in curves and corners towards the south, gradually descending on its way. Down in the distance, the young warrior could make out the lower mountain passes and valleys covered in pine trees, rivers and waterfalls. Luckily these weren't as steep as the Clipvegge.

We better keep moving. Wolrick lifted Myria with one arm on her back and the other in the hollow of her knees. His legs stumbled slightly as he stepped towards the ponies, who were about to get back on their legs too.

'Stay!' He commanded. 

The animals were noisy and shied away from him at first, but in the end, he emerged victorious from the little cat and mouse game. 

He slung Myria over one pony's back. The other one he led on from a distance with the rope they had previously tied themselves together with. The young warrior glanced up at the sun and gave a mental nod. There was still some time before the night would set in. But not much, so it was best to hurry and make camp. Wolrick sighed and continued the journey with one foot in front of the other.

After hitting the road for another half an hour, the terrain had descended enough for the first grass fields to spring up from the ground again. Here Wolrick came upon a stoppestead near a small pond with a little stream. A resting place for travellers about to make their journey into the Clipvegge Pass or like Wolrick and Myria; had finished the climb. 

A quick inspection told the young man the previous occupants had been fair. There was still enough firewood and kindling in the basket against the wall,  a few candles were stowed away in a drawer, and the place had been swept clean. It was a gesture of good manners and honour too. Wolrick smiled approvingly even though he knew that he once or twice had been guilty of leaving a stoppestead behind in poor conditions when he was a bit younger. For all his shortcomings; Wolrick wasn't lazy though. He just didn't regard some things as important as his kinsmen did...or he simply forgot them while being busy with other "priorities".

After carefully dismounting Myria and lying her to rest on an unfolded bedroll, he brought the ponies inside the small stables right next to the stoppestead and fetched water for them from the nearby pond. 

They are probably hungry. He reasoned and smirked awkwardly at the thought. There wasn't really anything to feed them right now unless he and the mage would share their meagre travelling rations with the animals.

He shrugged helplessly and patted the ponies for a moment, then went inside again. He checked one more time how Myria was, but she seemed to have dozed off in a deep sleep. 

'Next is fire,' Wolrick said to himself absent-minded. His thoughts were drifting elsewhere as he took out the little fire-kit from one of the saddlebags.

 'I wonder-,' he thought and stopped. 'Ha! What a joke.' He then smirked as his fingers pulled out a flint-striker, a flint-stone, some tiny pieces of amadou and laid them out on the nearby foot table. Wolrick also got his hunting knife out of his pack. 

I'm really curious about what awaits me in the Waste of Wonders. I have heard so many tales. He thought while cutting up twigs in brush-like shapes with his knife.

It is said that the animals there are twice to three times bigger than usual. Creatures with long claws, fangs and tusks. Such hunting trophies they would be! 

Placing the fire kindling in the middle of the small fireplace, Wolrick got his flint-stone, a piece of amadou and held them firmly in his left hand. Then with his right, he grabbed the fire-striker and hit the flint and the processed fungus repeatedly. Smoke and sparks emerged, and he placed the burning amadou in the heart of the kindling. 

Such a long journey it still is. So many things I will see on my way there. I hope I'm not overestimating myself this time. Even I have to admit to myself that it's my most bold plan yet. None who went there have ever returned before. I could be one of those who never did. 

Blowing into the nest of twigs, the warrior was rewarded with flames springing up and carefully placed the first bigger pieces of firewood on top of it. Soon enough, a fire was burning brightly in the small but cosy room. He also lit three candles in the room with sulfur-matches.

Next is food. Rummaging through their travel-bags and satchels, he produced two tightly sealed pots with latches on them. 

Grimnir bless the farmer in the valley! So much easier for tonight. The warrior unbuckled the pots and put the contents into a bigger kettle hanging over the fire on a chain from the ceiling. Facepalming himself, Wolrick jumped up and ran outside with the urns in his hands. He had forgotten to add water first. 

What Wolrick was good at was hunting and gathering. Gathering water, in this case. The sound of wild splashes in the early dark of night and after the young man shot back inside, hurling the water in the pot.

Wolrick wasn't much used to cooking and was rather clumsy at it. He had forced himself seven years ago to grasp some basics, however. Just to prove proudly to his parents that "I can take care of myself!". 

Hrogi had looked at him, and his held up "finished" cooking with glazed eyes, then laughed. It had made Wolrick cry. Naela had hugged her son after spitting sharp words at her husband.

'You should be proud and encourage him!' His mother's voice echoed in Wolrick's memory.

'Why?' His father said in the warrior's mind. 'Cooking is a woman's job. Only on long campaigns, a man is forced to-' 

'Exactly! And that's why you should encourage him rather than laugh in his face. He tried so hard!'

Yes, Wolrick reminded himself of his parents and sighed for a moment. His fingers toyed with the talisman of Grimnir his mother had given to him. He pulled out the ladle and stirred the skause* now dissolving into the already steaming water in the pot. Back at home, the cooking was mostly done for him. 

These last few days he and Myria had been quarrelling about the topic of cooking ferociously. Wolrick lacked the skill "to-do-it-properly", at least according to Hrogi and now too Myria. She was hellbent that he should practice more. 

The young man's opinion on the matter was that since she was better at it, she should do it.

'No! You will cook tonight,' the magician had insisted two days ago.

He shrugged. 'Suit yourself.'

Sometime later Myria was making a face as she was chewing. 

'I hope you like it,' her companion remarked sweetly. Wolrick didn't give a second thought about the taste. He was used to his own makings far by now.

The spellcaster merely grumbled and stubbornly kept on eating without commenting any further until she was finished. Throwing food away, however bad it was prepared, was wasteful. 'Tomorrow I will teach you!' She declared as if she was talking about open warfare.     

Wolrick's mind continued to wander on; from his goal to his parents to these last days travelling with Myria, and now his thoughts took a turn into the near future. The young man made a grab for the mage's travel-bag and pulled out the map held within. It was indeed a most valuable object and of particular quality too. 

Glancing at her sleeping shape from the corner of his eye, it wasn't the first time the young warrior was wondering about her home-country and origins. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but he had the impression its culture and technology was more developed than his own. How else could she possess something like this, although coming from so far away? Shifting his gaze towards the map again, Wolrick focused on the journey ahead of them. 

It will at least take months before I will set foot in the Wastes, and that is without delays if I am to believe this chart. His eyes glided over the Heimr Pass. The longest bloody pass in the Northern Heimr Mountains, connecting it with the Eastern Heimr Mountains and being approximately a thousand kilometres long. It was the next hurdle to overcome. Crawling to the east, along the lower slopes of the mountains, it variably followed the banks of the rivers and streams collectively known as the Heimr Currents. On the edge of the map, the pass ended and bumped into the lands of the fjords and glaciers near Borggestead. But that was still far, far away. Even Hoffsfell, which was on the way, was about three-hundred-and-eighty kilometres from here. But...

This map doesn't show the whole way. She must have more maps than this one. Curious as he was Wolrick reached out towards the mage's bag again. 

'What are you doing?' Myria's voice asked him from the other side of the room. 

He looked up. 'I was looking on the map regarding our journey ahead,' the warrior answered honestly. He forwarded her the chart. 

She snatched it away from his fingers. 'Don't go rummaging in other people's belongings without their permission,' she barked at him. 

'How nice that you are awake and lively again,' Wolrick replied in sarcasm. 'Are you hungry?'

At the mention of the word "hungry" Myria became aware of the smell in the small room and looked inquiringly in the bubbling pot hanging over the fire. Her nose and eyes informed her this was definitely edible and likely tasty. 'What's this?' She asked, suspiciously at the memory of previous meals cooked badly. 

'Skause. Meat stew thinned in water. The farmer we stayed with shared them with me,' the young man said. 

The mage let out a sigh of relief. 'Then let's eat. I'm starving!'

'Enjoy your nattmal**,' Wolrick said as he scooped up the meal-soup with the ladle and used the little pots from the farmer as bowls to fill.

They ate. Myria felt her strength return with every bite. The taste of cooked pork, beans, various grains, white carrots and cabbages washed over her tongue in waves. She took seconds. 

Wolrick enjoyed his meal as much as she did. When they had finished and cleaned the pots up, the two sat next to each other hunched over the map.

'You will not come with me to the east?' The warrior asked in surprise. 'Why not?'

'Because,' Myria started. 'I have other important matters to attend to. You will have to go to the Waste of Wonders alone and retrieve your ancestor's relic yourself.'

The young man frowned in the light of the casting fire. 'Where are you going then? And what's so important?'

The mage gave him a look. 'Did you listen to anything I have been telling you so far? I will take the Oxr Valley Road to Woltfjall and from there go to Halbrengr to catch one of your people's famous ships to the south.'

'As for your second question; you are one of the four people in the prophecy which means that aside from you, I need to find three others who are descendant from the four heroes of old. Only when all of you are together, do we have a chance to stop the prophecy from fulfilling. At least, that is what I believe,' she said. 

Wolrick gave this some thought, but in the end, shrugged. He didn't know any better anyway, and he also wasn't sure about the seriousness of the matter at hand. It's not as if I am seeing the world crumble around me or that we are pursued by minions of darkness or something like that. But I'll play along...for now. All I care about is coming home victoriously with lots of stories to boast on and the grand trophy within my clutches. After that, we will see how serious this "end-of-the-world" thing really is. If Myria wants to go on a wild goose chase, then she can go for all I care. I will miss her cooking, though.   

Then a question arose in his mind. 'Who are these other descendants you are talking about?'

The mage rolled her eyes. 'If only I knew.' She sighed.

'Who are they descended from then?' The young warrior persisted with another question.

'Well aside from your ancestor Hraljamar the Ice Tamer, there were-,' Myria held up her fist and stretched her fingers one by one. 'Leslander the Watcher, Dauge the Hammer and Catja the Beast. The four of them together fought and bested a host of demon spawn and their overlords and banished them back into the abyss.'

Wolrick listened carefully and nodded to himself. There was probably a lot more going on than he knew right now but all in due time. 

'I see,' he said. 'And what about-'

'I would like to go to sleep now. It was a very exhausting day, and we still have a long journey ahead of us. Both of us,' Myria cut him short, tired of his questions.

'Yes, but why-,' Wolrick tried again.

'Good night, Wolrick Hrogisson!' she snapped and turned away from him as she lay down on her bedroll.

Hrogisson himself scratched his head before going to sleep himself. Tomorrow, at the crossroads, we will both go our own way. He thought before falling asleep.



*a meat stew with mixed vegetables.

**evening meal.










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