CCC1 - The Northern Reaches

= Present Day =

"Tell me, Darius. Do you think the world is dying?" asked Garcia, some twigs caught in his crimson shirt and snagged at his golden tunic as he let fall the stack of firewood from his large grip.

There came a reply from behind. His partner, smaller in size and slender too, entered the cavern behind him. "I don't know what to think," he answered hesitantly. There was a brief pause as he placed his bow and satchel on the ground and wiped off the snow that had gathered atop his frozen garments. "All signs point to its demise," he continued with a defeated sigh. "Tomorrow, tomorrow we shall know of our fate, for better or for worse. Still, as I've told you before. It will do us no good dwelling on it. Let us just enjoy one more night filled with hope."

"I suppose it can wait,” Garcia said with a snort. “Whether or not our land is shrinking won't matter if we freeze tonight," He gave a one-shoulder shrug and picked at the twigs that were entangled in his garments. Then, carelessly he tossed the sticks and smaller twigs into a pile, breaking the bigger ones as he went. "Hurry, block the entrance until I get this fire started," he ordered.

The cave was littered with signs of previous use and quickly Garcia made use of a premade ring of stone where an old campfire lay dormant. The remains of charred wood and ash from its last light had long gone cold. Pieces of once sharpened arrowheads and remnants of animal bone gave a false impression of the rich wildlife that the Northern Reaches was once renowned for. Generations of hunters had taken refuge in that very cavern, but that was a different time, a different world entirely to the one they lived in now. With each passing year, the animals migrated further south and now, only the fiends of darkness roamed these plains; feeding on the last of the more durable creatures that still found solace in such a desolate place. But soon, even the fiends would be driven south, just like the Snow Elves themselves, Darius thought, driven from the mountain.

"I've already lost one home to this damn weather," Darius muttered, turning back to the opening. The cold wind whipped at his cheeks and flailed his long milky white hair over his pale-skinned face as he began to erect a wall of snow that quickly negated the winds and with it, the last of the late evening sun that was sinking in the sky. His frustration was not brought on by simply the mere icy temperatures, afterall he was Snow-Elf. The kind of Elf that preferred the colder parts of the world. But this coldness was different, but worst of all, it was a taste of a tainted past and most likely, of what was to come.

"The wind is picking up again. '' Darius finally said aloud.  “Never have I seen it so bad, not since I hailed on the mountain,"

"And yet the winter months are not upon us. This journey would be impossible during the snow season,” Garcia said, snapping at more twigs for kindle.

"Up here, all seasons bring with it the snow," Darius said with a gloomy expression. “It’s merely a matter of how much of it."

"I only meant--"

"I know what you meant, and yes, it could be a lot worse," Darius replied, bravely pulling a smile as he turned to meet his companions gaze. "It's why the Maester held off until now to send us again. But, even compared to last year..." His words trailed off, such was his need to even finish his sentence. The weather was indeed worse, and only another year had passed.

In that moment, Darius pondered how his partner was holding up. Garcia wasn’t a Snow-Elf, at least in the full sense of the term, but nor could he be considered human. He was something in between and had the characteristics of both, for better and for worse. He was tough and not one for complaining, he was not immune to the cold and at times this worried Darius. He felt responsible for his partner's health. Not only because he was leading the expedition but because he was his friend. At times like these Darius would remember his grandfather's advice on how one day he would be Maester and how he would be responsible for all his people, it was who he was destined to be.

A flame sparked from Garcia's hand that caught Darius attention and illuminated the small cavern that was only getting darker with each slab of snow placed at the opening. Before Garcia could ignite the tinder however,  the strength of the flame that expelled from his hand wavered and then ceased. Despite the tingling sensation in the tips of his fingers, he could not garner the strength to cast his flame. "I've reached my limit!" the half elf barked with agitation. His shoulders dropped and could now only feel the frustration seep through him.

"That's what you get for relying only on your physical strength," Darius mocked with a sarcastic shake of his head and with a small smile that twitched the corners of his lips he continued "How many times have you been told to exercise your element. It's like a muscle, if you do not train it, you cannot expect it to work." Finished with the wall, Darius turned with hands that began to exude an intense heat as silence fell between the two as a shuffle of his neck he gestured to swap places.

As the firewood caught fire, the awkward silence finally broke when Garcia reached into his pack and pulled out a small blade along with a parcel consisting of a neatly wrapped package of which Darius knew could mean only one thing as right away his pale face brimmed with excitement. He unravelled the leaves that covered a slab of deer meat they had taken from a kill earlier and cut it into generous portions. Piercing them with the thicker twigs, he balanced the cuts of meat atop the warm fire.

The temperature within the cave rose and with it the aroma of the food quickly hit their nostrils and their stomachs. As the smoke of the fire drew upwards, it swirled its warmth into the cavern and leaked into each and every crevasse. With the entrance now blocked, the heat had nowhere to go besides a single gap in the ceiling and could only wrap around the room as the warmth seeped into their flesh. Darius may have been a Snow-Elf, but even he appreciated the touch of a cosy fire and quickly their ice ridden clothes began to thaw and the bitterness of the weather outside was forgotten, at least, if only for a little while.

Garcia, poking holes in the entrance with his sword let in a zest of fresh air as Darius kicked his bag towards the cave wall. Tired after a long day trudging through deep snow he planted himself down atop it to escape the cold floor. The wall behind him was hard and uneven against his back but he did not complain. His legs still aching from their march north were content. Garcia quickly did the same but with his huge mass, fidgeting with his balance, shifting his bulk back and forth atop his bag, he succumbed to his predicament. "Aye, I'm as much a Snow-Elf as you are a damn troll," he barked, beckoning the duo into a spurt of laughter and reluctantly he accepted the hard uneven floor.

It was their dying laughter that alerted them to the noises from beyond the cavern. Their moment of contentment was interrupted by the harsh reality of the Northern Reaches. Howls and wails of a beast could be heard with only the layer of snow acting as a barrier to the dangers of the world outside.

"The smell of cooking flesh seems enticing to the wolves it seems," sniggered Garcia as the pair shared a glance. He leaned forward and turned the sizzling meat that was beginning to colour. "Too bad!"

"The wolves are getting desperate Garcia. It must have tracked us for miles. Maybe since we killed the deer for all we know. It sure has been a long time since we have come across any sign of life.”

“By the sounds of it, there seems to be only the one, at least it sounds that way.” Darius surmised as his long Elven ear twitched as the howling continued.

"So much for the infamous wolf-pack," Garcia replied with a snort. "Still, it’s a wasted journey for any that come. I'm not the sharing type."

"Let's hope that wall holds,” Darius said looking at the entrance as if it could burst at any given moment. “If it doesn’t, we will all be eating tonight, our friend included."

"I assure you, Darius, I'm not on the menu," Garcia replied as he stretched for his blade, bringing it to his side, twirling the hilt between his fingers. “Though, dare it continue to persist? It will be on mine."

"I’ll cook off the rest," Darius said as he could only smile at his partner’s response. Beyond their confinement, the sound of such a beast would send a shiver down most a warrior’s spine, yet despite Garcia being a few years younger, his arrogance was not out of place. There were few things more deadly than a starving desperate wolf, Darius thought to himself, but the son of Andris Galati was sure one of them, and knowing he by his side brought him comfort. "It should last us the return trip," he continued. "There won't be any more opportunities to prepare food until we get back here so we better make it last.

"And if the end is not where it once was... What's next?" Garcia said bluntly.

"Our journey will be cut short then”, Darius half joked but the hole that appeared in his gut returned, and not so confidently he continued. “The Maester will decide what to do if it comes to that. He will call a summit with Tobias and the other lords and leaders of the realm. The Snow Elves are not in this alone.”

Those words sat on Darius’s mind for the hours to follow despite how much of a brave face he tried to convey. It was hard to be brave at a time like this.

***

The night rolled in fast and the eerie cries from the beast outside rang deep into the night. Darius, with his sensitive elven ears tossed and turned in frustration for what seemed like an eternity before finally after some time drifted into an uneasy slumber. The fire, left unattended, died out and left a chill in the air. The howling finally ceased and Darius’s eyes flew open to the darkness that surrounded him. Was it that dream again he thought? It sure didn’t feel like it but dreams had a strange way of being deceiving. Replacing the continuous howling was an ominous silence that woke him and for a long moment he lay still curled up confused, pondering, but his ears were ever reacting to the world around him. Then the sheathing of a blade and some faint scuffling outside the cavern pricked at his lobes, alerting him to the fact that they were not alone. At first, he thought Garcia grew impatient to the wolf's cry and went to fetch breakfast, but as he sat up, he noticed the snow wall was still erect, and his partner was very much still asleep.

Careful not to rustle up any unnecessary noise, he fumbled around for his bow, grasped for an arrow and staggered towards the snow blockade still disoriented as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. The small air hole Garcia had left that had frozen over during the night as he pierced it slowly with his finger and gazed through. The stain of what he presumed to be wolf's blood was etched into the snow just mere meters from the entrance. His heart leapt into his throat and his hands grew clammy around his bow. Quickly he surveyed all that could be seen, but there was no sign of a carcass. Only an untidy trail of blood veered off left and out of sight. Swallowing heavily, the lump that had formed in his throat refused to be pushed down and his focus returned to the pool of blood and to the footprints that he now noticed next to it. He tried to ascertain who or what they belonged to but the suspicion of what creature it was likely to be gnawed at his gut.

“Fiends?” Garcia mumbled loudly, his voice thick and slightly slurred with sleep, quite unaware of how loud he was talking.

Darius jumped at the sudden noise and glanced over his shoulder at his companion, staring at the dark mound for a moment before he returned his attention back to the peephole. “Shh, yes” He ushered looking back out at the pool of blood. It wasn't a clean kill he thought to himself. A clean kill was less messy. This was careless and maybe even ruthless in execution. An act made in desperation for a creature, starving and relying only on it’s  killer instinct to survive and a need to feed.

All too quickly, Darius’s vision was blurred as the hole went black and a yellow iris blinked back at him, sending a shock that rippled through his body as he fell backwards as a yelp escaped his lips. His fingers fumbled instantly, trembling slightly in the panic as he aimed his bow and let fly an arrow that cut through the air with a wisp. A screech of pain outside signified a direct hit as the nock of the arrow and few inches of fletching juddered back and forth relentlessly for  before coming to an abrupt stop.

Jumping to his feet, Garcia grasped his sword. His legs parted in a stance ready to fight. "Let’s get out there and earn our breakfast?" He barked.

"Calm down, Garcia, It may have only been the one,” Darius soothed, sounding much more confident than his wracked-up nerves gave him credit, but even as he spoke the words he knew that his confidence was futile at best. Drawing in a shaky breath, he turned his head and flicked his wrist, throwing a flame at the wall and quickly it began to melt and give way.

"I've heard of a lone wolf, but for a goblin, no chance. A horde will surely be nearby. Come on, faster," his voice demanded but halted when the wall fully cascaded in, giving way to reveal the corpse of the dead fiend.

"That's odd," Darius said, retrieving the arrow that had lodged deep within the goblin's eye socket and wiped the residue on a rag he had just for the occasion.

"Aye, so it is,” Garcia affirmed. “What’s a forest goblin doing so far north? They aren't the brightest of creatures but even so, a rarity that one has wandered back up here. Still... it explains the blood, and the kill. I doubt a grey goblin could kill a blinded kitten, never mind a grown wolf. "

"Do you still believe there may be others, or is this just a stray?" Darius asked.

"I'd like to think there aren't any more of them. A horde of green goblins would prove more troublesome than the grey ones that spawn up north but nothing the pair of us couldn’t handle of course."

"Of course... of course," Darius mumbled sarcastically beneath his breath, not sounding quite as sure of himself. He turned back into the cave motioning his partner to follow. "Lets go Garcia, the weather is surprisingly calm. We should make the most of our luck. This blood will surely draw the wolves if not anything else. Their senses are not dulled, even in these conditions."

“Can we not eat first?” Garcia moaned with a stretch.

“We have a job to do.”

“Yes yes i know.” Garcia complained. “Observe the rope we placed a year ago and determine its length. If it's shorter than it was a year ago, then your grandfathers shrinking theory is correct. The old geezer has it drilled it into me and you know what... You're sounding more like him everyday.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now let’s go. You can eat on the trot.”

Garcia thought of complaining but stopped himself and merely nodded in agreement. Finally ready, they set off on their expedition as a low light gleamed over them, drawing their attention upwards the sky as the first flakes of the day began to fall.

“What if the old geezer is right?”

Darius shook his head, unsure how he was supposed to answer such a question. Everyone back home had their opinion on the topic, but without definite proof, it couldn’t be labelled anything other than a theory, and a ridiculous one at that. To think the world was ending was a preposterous thought, and the fact the pair of them were sent to investigate such a theory in the first place was eccentric to some. But to prove his grandfather was right when such an outcome would be disastrous, it all seemed like a nightmare. Either way, until they got a definite answer, they had to keep going.

Ignoring the question completely, Darius finally responded “Our fate awaits us, Garcia. At the edge of the world.”

Their eyes swivelled to the sunrise once before them. Despite everything, it was beautiful, regardless if secretly it masked the  impending calamity.

***

Five hours into their march and the conditions ever worsened, but this was to be expected of the Northern Reaches. The wind’s got heavier and so did each step but they remained persistent. Long had it been since the sun disappeared back behind the thick and puffy snow clouds and now the duo wrestled against the torrent of white that swirled down on them. As they hung their heads, shielding their eyes with their hands in a futile attempt to thwart the snowstorm that beat down on them. Each step north required more and more effort as they pushed onwards against the unchanging southern wind.

The musky smell of the void was now a firm indication that they were nearing their destination and the corpses, the remnants of the goblins created and born in the darkness at the world’s end confirmed it. Not strong enough to escape the wrath of the north they lay stationery in the show where they fell and perished.

“How much further,” shouted Garcia.

“Another hour or so I'd say,” Darius replied. “But It’s hard to judge what pace we’re making in these conditions.

“Look, there’s another one.”  Garcia gestured to the fiend that was frozen in the snow.” it wasn;t the first one they had come across but the frequency was increasing.

“I’m surprised they made it this far,” Darius yelled, trying to make sure that his voice was heard over the roaring winds. “I almost feel sorry for them. Look there's another one,” he gestured to a fiend that was not yet hidden by the snow. It lay curled up, almost human like and the slender Elf looked on with an emotion that wasn’t far removed from pity. “This ones still breathing,” he concluded.

"Show no remorse," Garcia retorted, thrusting his sword into the skull of the fallen monster. "Any that survive will grow, ripen and become a threat as they travel south. What you're doing now may save a life and heartache elsewhere. I take no pleasure in a needless killing, but the alternative is worse."

“It’s just when they are this weak and defenceless.” Darius responded but his words fell on death ears.

“You would show mercy to a creature that would butcher you in your sleep without a second thought? How many stories do you need to hear of baby’s being mauled in their cribs to understand that these are not creatures that can be understood with our own reasoning? The Warlocks of the sands thought they could tame them and look at them now.”

“Your right... Just ignore me.” Darius turned and continued forwards as another goblin merged from the snow. Raising his arrow as he adjusted his bow and paused for a second, composed himself and then assertively pulled at the string. His face was pointed forward, eyes on a pale eyed creature looking back at him. Gnarling, nails gripping at the snow as it hauled its crooked and wicked body forward, it’s jagged teeth bared out at them. They were indeed the monsters from his grandfather’s stories and nothing less and he had seen first hand their destructive prowess when given half the chance. He clenched his teeth and released his finger.

The arrow swept through the air, silent, disguised in the roaring storm, but with a direct hit the scream that followed brought a shriek to the air as it pierced the goblins chest, knocking it backwards. It’s back arched, before it dropped to the ground. Its head thrashed from side to side and then it went still. A stream of purple leaked out and onto the snow and as Darius approached to reclaim his arrow. Now above the hill, his eyes rose, yet again squinting to peer through the storm. “We’re early,” he announced, shock riddling in his voice, his fingers anxiously curled tightly around the hilt of the arrow.

“Quite a few hours early at that,” Garcia replied, advancing closer, almost in disbelief, his voice too slightly trembled at the sight before him.

Darius put a hand on his partner’s shoulder. Despite the ill feeling that twisted in his stomach, he kept moving forwards. He had to see it at his feet to truly grasp the truth. Sooner than expected they had arrived and their fate was indeed sealed.

Suddenly if a higher power spared him from his thought, the ground not too far from where he was standing began to vibrate furiously and then in a flash a large chunk of earth broke off and fell into the abyss below. The wind was screaming, clawing at the air, covering up the sound of the breaking ground that should’ve shattered the air.

"This does not bode well," Darius shouted, lowering his bow. “No not at all.”

Garcia’s half human face paled almost whiter than the snow under his feet. The old geezer was correct and in his mind, he cursed. “No need to test the rope then, is there?” shaking his head, still in disbelief he continued. “It’s claimed the whole bloody thing.” Joining Darius at the edge, he looked down as curiosity tingled through him as not even a shred of light broke through the darkness of the void. “How long until it swallows us up?”

“It’s much worse than Dalzell feared. A lot worse,” Darius answered.

“How long have we got?” Garcia pushed, hoping for an answer.

"I don’t have the answers! Darius snapped. This isn’t really something you can just guess. It just depends on how our world deteriorates further without alchemy."

"Alchemy was sealed nearly fifty years ago. Why are the effects of it only being felt now, half a century onwards?"

"Don't be so naive, Garcia," Darius shot back. "You're just too young to appreciate what came before. We had to abandon Leuven, our home sixteen years ago because of the weather. fiend sightings have been on the rise and our control over the element has been ever weakening since the event. The Alami and other races that were once dependent on alchemy have all but perished, very few remain, and others are now but beasts of legend. Open your eyes. The fallout of the incident is all around us. A world just takes longer to die I suppose, that's all."

"Could the Snow-Elves die if choked of alchemy? Like the Alami I mean? Before the void gets us that is," the larger elf questioned."

"Who's to say? Alchemy is, or rather, was the building blocks of what made up our realm. It affected different races and creatures in ways we can only speculate, so without it, there is no sure way of telling how much we depend on it. But the fact that we are still here now tells me that our life force doesn’t depend on it, at least not fully.”

Garcia did not respond. Having once doubted the Maester's theories, again and again, they had proven true. As butterflies invaded his stomach he quickly backed up to a safe distance.

"Let's go home," said Darius.

***

Departing they set their focus on the journey home as the sun got lower in the sky. The darkness and bitterness of the cold crept back in. For Garcia, fighting through the cold and tiredness was made possible with the motivation of a soft bed, a hot meal and even warmer fire awaiting them back in the village. They called it a village, but in reality it was nothing more than an old fort, a relic of an old war. Still, it was more appealing than the cold hard cavern floor and the leftovers they would be eating tonight. The weather, harsh and unyielding, was at least now on their backs, which made the return journey somewhat easier despite their tiring limbs and aching bones. All the same the grim news had damped their spirits.

Their journey south came to a sudden halt when the pair spotted a horde of fiends, marching unaffected by the cold caught their attention. Darius gestured to a lonely tree, too stubborn and proud to join the rest of the fallen logs and the pair quietly made their way to it so as not to be spotted.

"What are they up to?" Garcia asked, arriving at the tree first. Slyly he peaked from cover, squinting to ascertain all that there was to see."There are dozens of them, and that's only what I can see in this damn weather. Goblins both grey and green, trolls, ogres too and what are those? I don't even know what they are."

Darius shot a hand forward, slamming it onto his friend’s shoulder yanking him back. "Be careful Garcia… With that many eyes, it would just take a stray glance to spot you. Let them pass; we cannot hope to deal with those kind of numbers.”

Garcia knew his limits and nodded. "This valley only leads to the garrison. They must have come down off one of the mountains."

"No doubt my father would have ordered them hunted down if they had come near the village. What direction were they coming from? East or west?"

"Travelling west, coming down off Atholia and heading to the Silver Mountains."

"To our old home?" Darius said letting out a resentful sigh. "Nothing but a gathering spot for the fiends of darkness now."

"What should we do? What if they divert south and attack the village?" Garcia said resting his hand on the hilt of his sword."

"The village will be fine; it will take a lot more than a few dozen to cause a problem. The garrison was built to withstand attacks from the Atholian's. We'll just keep our distance till we get to the cavern but we can't risk lighting a campfire tonight. We could have been butchered in our sleep last night."

Garcia opened his mouth to complain but quickly thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. Instead, he turned to peek past the tree again and as the last of the fiends were nearly out of sight. "I definitely have not seen those ones before."

"Let me have a look," Darius said, his interest piquing as they swapped positions and he peered from around the trunk. "Hmm, whatever it is, they are surely foreign to this region. If I had to guess by the colour of it..." Darius stopped mid-sentence, his neck snapped back. "Oh no..." he breathed out.

"What?" the larger elf quizzed.

"It looked straight at me."

"Did it see you?"

"Yes, no. I don't know."

"Well have another look."

Darius crept his head back around carefully. "Garcia, they are coming," he shouted. Popping around bow in hand without thinking twice, he quickly launched four arrows in succession, taking down two of the green goblins that were leading the pack. One arrow missed its target and lodged into a troll closer to the back of the pack. Letting out a roar, the aggro of the horde increased as more of the fiends were alerted to their presence.

"Take out as many as you can and I'll deal with the rest," Garcia said unsheathing his great sword with red bitten fingers. “Just be sure not to hit me.”

Darius let loose a second barrage of arrows, upping the tempo taking down the troll, its twin and another three goblins. "I haven't got many arrows left!"

"You're leaving the rest to me, aren't you? Well I suppose it’s better to die a warrior's death than succumb to this weather like a stray dog," Garcia said with a cold smile.

"Wait..." Darius butted in "They have stopped."

"What do you mean they have stopped?" Questioned Garcia almost disappointed as he came out from behind cover. He saw the fiends anxiously looking to the sky.

"I don't know. They just stopped." Darius raised his hand to his twitching ear. "Wait, do I hear what?"

"Hear what? I can barely hear anything over this wind" Garcia replied.

"Above."

"I can’t hear anything, what is it?"

Before Darius could reply, a green flame emitted from the sky that illuminated the Northern Reaches that had been nearly all but in darkness as the evening dusk was coming to an end. The sight before them was both confusing and overwhelming. The light revealed the mass horde of fiends that had gathered. Hundreds of the creatures dispersed frantically as the flame devoured goblin, troll and anything else in its path. it did not matter as everything the fire touched was scorched to ash. As quickly as the source of the light appeared in the sky it was then gone only to reappear at a different location.

"What sorcery is this?" Garcia said breaking a sweat as the heat of the flame engulfed the area before them.

"No sorcery, there can be no doubt. This is dragon fire!"