Wolf Iron

Chapter 15 / The One Who Chooses

Rodney and Quinn pressed further and deeper into the thicket, past the signs and barbed fences and the dusking light of early evening barely poked through past the tree's foliage. 

"Let's carry on then, Randolph." 

He really hated that name. Why his parents chose to name him something so easy to take the piss out of was beyond him. And then his Dad just had to go and have an affair to top it all off! With a man nonetheless! That's class. 

And who would've thought that the quiet Chinese banker would've done anything so wayward? Certainly not his mum, that's for sure. Certainly not him. 

Rodney pushed a branch out of his way and thought about what his father would say about all this. Well, he doesn't get a say Rodney decided. Not after sneaking about like he did and then pissing off as fast as he did. 

He took a look at his phone and it was 8:29 and he knew his mum would be worrying about him. And then looking up towards the ever diminishing sunlight in the sky, he knew there was no service to be had out this far in the Thicket. He remembered coming out here with his father, back when cellphones hadn't quite had so near a monopoly on one's time and attention. 

He would climb up a tree with me on his shoulder somehow, he thought, realizing just how much strength had to have to do that. After they were at least about halfway up, he would sit me right in front of him on the sturdiest branch possible and we would just. Not say anything, just sit and listen to the nature. Later on, the Thicket became a training grounds of sort for their Kendo sessions. He'd hand him the Shinai stick and they would spar until almost about this time of the day. Till nightfall. 

That was years back though.

"Randolph", Rodney heard Quinn say far in front of him. "I was just thinking that even though you've read about Edgard, you most certainly don't know that much about it. I was reading through that book of yours and it seems like it was written by a biased commoner with almost no education." 

Rodney rolled his eyes and swatted away mosquitoes. 

"Really? Actually the guy who wrote it went to Oxford. Do you know Oxford University?" 

"No."

"Yeah, well it's a pretty good school. At least so I've heard. That's where I want to go when I've finished with all my primaries. And I'll get as far away from this place as possible."

"And you fancy that school because of that book written by that commoner?" 

"He's not a commoner! For cripes sake, he's only Eddard L. Shab, the most premier writer of fantasy in the world. You won't find him with a profile on Reeve, will you now?"

Quinn stayed quiet ahead of him, picking her feet up high and wide, knocking that braid of hair to and fro.

"Oh, that's right," Rodney said sarcastically. "You don't have the faintest idea what Reeve is, do you? I forgot. You're not from here." He made a mocking tone and said quietly to himself. "You're from Edgard."

"Reeve? Is that what everybody has on those minute, little magic blocks they have in their hands all the time? Are those blocks called Reeve?"

"No. Reeve is the app. Those are phones, you nutter."

Quinn once again said nothing. 

"You know. Phones" Rodney accentuated. "Little small things that pretty much influence every single thing you do, you eat, what you think, all that." He laughed a bit to himself, while stepping over a rock. "But of course, I bet they don't allow you phones in the mental, do they? So you wouldn't know about that." 

"We have something of the sort happening in Edgard, I'm afraid." She turned and faced Rodney quite seriously. "That's why I've come to get you. Viricene must be stopped." 

"Viri-who? Oh come on. Now you're just going off canon, Quinn." He walked to face her and then kept going. "Got to get your story better than that." 

She rushed alongside him. 

"That's the truth. And that's what I'm referring to when I say that you there's a lot you don't know about my world."

"Enlighten me," Rodney said wearily. 

"Viricene the Vile was once the manservant and personal mage of King Emeric Dawkes. He did everything for the King. He organised his affairs, propagated his good image to the people. He was even able to bring forth any type of meal he wanted. Viricene was renowned for being able to make things pop out of thin air." She snapped her fingers. "Just like that. And then one day, he came to the King with a proposal to build Spires of magic throughout the realm. He proposed that these Spires would keep the King privy to all happenings of Edgard. Possible revolts, mutinies, attacks on villages, all of it. And the King, in his weakest moment, thought nothing of it, and simply wanted to help his people. And so he allowed Viricene to build these Spires throughout the Land. It was to be-" Quinn flourished her hands-"an link between worlds if you will. The commoners and the King." 

Rodney kept walking. 

"But what the King didn't know was that Viricene the Vile had heinous intentions in his heart." 

"Really, who would've thought that?" 

Quinn ignored him and continued. 

"The spires that he he had so freely distributed all over the realm were pouring forth a deep and dark spew. They poisoned the air around them and bred murderous and treacherous thoughts deep within the people. They began to question their loyalty to the Good King Emeric and ballads for the king soon became murder hymns, used to bring nothing but violence and untruth to the world. Neighbor turned on neighbor and friend turned on friend. From these Spires of Dark Magic, came forth monsters from different worlds. Demons, Randolph. Demons that come out at sight of the full moon and wreck bloody havoc on Edgard."

Rodney sighed and checked his phone again. No signal. He could hear the roar of the waterfall coming up closer.

"And we have been fighting them for years, Randolph. In the beginning, it was manageable. The good people of The Realm all rushed to our aid. The High Blacksmiths of Wymer and even the sell-swords of Rael pledged their blades to ours and persevered alongside us to fight these demons. But the people grow weak. It is a losing battle. To make matters worse, Viricene has absconded with King Emeric's daughter, kidnapping Princess Freya and locking her up in the Black Keep of Angard for leverage. He wants it all, Randolph. The throne, the land, everything. And he's using these Dark Spires of Magic to do it. These are portals to different worlds, Randolph." 

"Man, you're intense."

"We need you, Randolph. You are the Chosen One, I know you are." 

Just have to wait for the right time to make a getaway. Just turn around once.

"The Chosen One, huh? Well, that does sound very enticing and all that. Even though it's all very played out, the whole Chosen One thing. But look at that, the waterfall must be on the other side of this rock. Do you hear it?" 

The two of them were in front of a large slab of dark cliffside, the top of which was adorned by green moss, hanging like a halo. Rodney hadn't noticed before, but looking down at his feet, he saw they actually on a well-tread trail, with dense forestation on either side of them. He couldn't quite make it out in the impending darkness, but he saw what seemed to be a large crack in the cliffside, that was perhaps just 3 centimeters wide. 

"This is it! This is The Eye of the Needle, Randolph. We've reached it!" Quinn hopped up and down, her short bangs leaping. 

Rodney raised his eyebrow. 

Okay, this is my time. I have to go now and do it in the darkness or she'll catch me for sure.

"Randolph, give me your hand", Quinn said pressing herself up against the cliff. "I realize that this seems- hey, what are you doing?! Come back!"

Rodney blasted off into the underbrush and gave no mind to the whipping of sharp branches on his legs as he went.