The Open Sky: Eternal Forest Saga - Book 3

Chapter 1

"Many remark on the stupidity of goblin battle tactics, but I can't help but wonder if there is a dark rationale to it. No one goblin seems to think its life more is important than the survival of the tribe. It's a mindset that, though emotionally unthinkable, is tactically brilliant."

Sevyahn: Human Philosopher - Musings on the Savage Tribes

Present day...

With autumn nearing, the weather was already getting cooler. The evening brought with it a nip in the air to herald the coming change of seasons. The rain wasn't making it any warmer. Thick, wet drops splashed down upon the leaves high overhead. It had been raining for days, saturating the ground with small puddles that Galdaren swore were cold enough to freeze. She pulled her thick, heavy cloak a little tighter around her shoulders. The action did little to warm her, but her chills came from more from within than from the weather.

She'd never been this far into the Savage Lands before. Whereas the holy lands of Tranquility were currently bustling with the coming holiday season, the wild woods to the far east were gloomy and lonely. The human seryan tried to keep her mind on the approaching festivities, hoping such thoughts would warm her. After all, the celebrations might not be possible without the secret work she'd been set upon. The acolytes, students, and pilgrims staying at the Temple would never know she was out here in the rain and the cold, or the reason for her journey.

"It shouldn't be much farther."

The voice of Moonbeam, the elven seryan, shook her from her thoughts. She'd been so inwardly focused for so long, she'd nearly forgotten that she wasn't alone. Moonbeam's gnarled staff struck the wet earth with each step she took, making a faint 'squish' sound as she pulled it again from the mud. A low, long rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. The heart of the storm was still far to the east, and they were marching right into it. It would be over Tranquility soon, meaning more cold and gloom would be waiting for them when they returned home.

"How can we even be sure they gave us the right location?" Galdaren questioned. "Since when do these blighted pests keep accurate maps?"

"We need only get close enough to know their signs," Moonbeam answered. "I'm sure our noses will find the goblins long before our eyes do." Their errand had come at the request of Silvermist, Grand Seryan of the Temple and spiritual leader of all the Lands of Order. It had been nearly a week since she and Galdaren learned of Silvermist's secret agenda. Goblin attacks against the fledgling city of Keysakah had been growing in frequency. The balisekts built their new home on a former goblin territory and the vile little creatures wanted their land back.

In the goblin's plight, Silvermist saw a solution to the Temple's own problems. The end of the war resulted in the lizard race's induction into the Lands of Order. The tribes were welcoming the savages as equals, but the Grand Seryan knew such beasts could never become truly civilized. Tranquility needed the balisekts gone, driven back to the Savage Lands where they belonged. The goblins wanted the same thing, and in this Silvermist saw an opportunity.

Moonbeam's steps halted abruptly. Her staff rose from the mud and extended out in front of her. Galdaren lowered her hood. The raindrops were cold against her nearly bald scalp. She knew they'd both heard the same thing. Amongst the steady roar of raindrops against the yellowing leaves, there were growls echoing through the trees. The fresh smells of wet leaves and earth were tainted by the stench of decay and rot. Neither of them could see the goblins yet, but they knew they'd arrived.

Galdaren thrust her hands from the folds of her cloak. Even in the driving rain, a pair of fireballs roared to life above her palms. The glow of the flames illuminated her pale, wet skin. "I know you beasts aren't foolish enough to attack us," she boasted. "Stop confusing predator for prey and come out of the shadows."