Cambolton's Fall

Chapter Ten

Bard's excitement was almost tangible. Gavira looked a bit confused, but let Bard direct her by the shoulders through a small clearing in the trees. They moved as a group around the edge of the meadow, stopping when they reached the opposite side from where Brin and Price had been practicing.

Warrel complained from the back of the group, "Where are we-"

"Shh, shh, shh!" Bard interrupted, "Just a moment." He positioned Gavira on the edge of the long yellow-green grass, facing in toward the meadow, with her back to the long pine trees. "Ok, Brin and Warrel stand on either side of her facing in towards the clearing." He pointed to the clearing, "and Price, come with me for a moment."

Everyone obeyed their strange commands. Brin leaned forward to look at the faces of his companions. Then stood back up and took a deep breath of the fresh morning air.

"Any idea what he's going on about?" Gavira asked directly from his right.

Brin shrugged, "Probably his vision, but I'm sure we'll find out in a few minutes."

As if on queue, Bard returned. He was hustling in front of Price, ushering him to stand with him. Price was carrying the ornate lute that Bard had been traveling with. Rolinar motioned for Price to hold the instrument up, level with his chest.

The three standing in a line to Bards front were confused. Warrel shuffled, while Gavira fidgeted. Brin sealed his mouth closed, struggling to contain his curiosity.

Bard moved his face very close to the neck of the lute and began to remove the ornate golden strings. Realization dawned inside of Brin. Not golden chains, golden strings. He couldn't help but smile as Bard looked up holding a string, a victorious smile reaching from ear to ear.

He handed the golden thread to Warrel on the far end of the line, then repeated the process. He moved slowly, seemingly afraid to break the instrument or the strings. When he had removed the last string and handed it to Brin, he stepped back and took a deep breath.

Brin was surprised at the strings weight. It could almost be considered a chain. It was also warm between his fingers. He held it closer to inspect it. He was shocked to find no threading or weaving whatsoever, the string was just solid substance, whether it was gold or something else entirely, he wasn't sure.

"Ok, hold your arms out, like this." Bard motioned by raising his arm ninty degrees from his body. The group complied and waited.

After a few moments of tense, anticipating silence Warrel spoke, "What're we doing here boy?"

Bard deflated. His features animated every emotion. "I don't know, I expected something to happen. Maybe I-"

Gavira let out a cry of surprise. All eyes returned to their hands as suddenly the light that seemed to be reflecting off of the strings began to radiate, as if coming from the strings. The five adventurers watched as the light grew almost to a blinding level. They all tried to move their arms farther away, an unconscious effort to distance thestring from their bodies. Brin shut his eyes to the light as it grew too bright to look at. What the hell.

Then it was gone. They were all left squinting and blinking, attempting to regain their vision. A voice sounded in front of the group, though it was unfamiliar to Brin. "Hello my children."

Brin's body reacted without thinking, he dropped into a crouch and spread his feet, still trying to blink his vision back to normalcy. In moments it recovered and he stopped his hand as it was moving towards his Oytili. There was nothing different in the meadow. The two next to him seemed to be still dazed and confused, holding their arms out, while Bard and Price were the only ones in front of him.

Bard was smiling at him. It was then that Brin felt it. The presence. The weight, power and confidence of this radiating existence was almost enough to make his chest cave in and his legs give out. How could Brin ever expect to amount to something significant with something like this in the world. He was an ant. A spec. For all his confidence and all of his "power", he wanted to cringe and hide.

This is real power. This is real strength.

Though Bard's mouth moved, the words to escape him were not that of the friendly twenty one year old that Brin knew.

"I am Ezol."