Yerf, the last town before Dule. It sat in a huge clearing at the bottom of the Mountains of Bow. It wasn’t a big city, but it crawled with falfreys. And outside the town, in between the two mountains, dwelled creatures that were half-hawk, half-snake known as dwarps.
They were vicious creatures; creatures of the Darkness. They fed on scraps and were terrified of the Light and would only attack in packs of four or more, that way they could control their prey. Belbriv wouldn’t ride through the Mountains, even though it was quicker he couldn’t be attacked by those animals.
Noble had been hallucinating for hours; if he went into convulsions it was over. Belbriv pleaded with the god of Light and Good to give him more time to reach Dule.
“Please just let me get this boy to Biblen.” He repeated several times.
Noble couldn’t die… he was chosen. Tet was exhausted and against Belbriv’s better judgment, he would have to stop in that filth-filled city, Yerf. He wouldn’t dare bring Noble into the city; he wasn’t free yet and a falfrey was sure to notice him, even this far from his hometown.
Belbriv hid Noble and covered him up well.
“Keep him said, he prayed to the Light.
Belbriv led Tet into Yerf with his sweaty head covered by his dark cloak. The people of Yerf were tall in height as well, having once been joined with the Dule giants. But when the Darkness took reign, the Dule giants separated themselves from others and returned to their country. So “blending in” in height was no problem for the giant.
He looked or talked to no one and headed straight for the stables. No time was wasted as he exchanged his faithful steed for a rested and well-cared for horse.
“I will return for you,” he whispered into the animal’s ear then mounted and casually rode his new horse out of town.
Making sure no one had followed him, Belbriv went to Noble and put the dying boy on his new horse before mounting himself.
“Alright now, ride like the wind my friend.”
Belbriv kicked the horse and it galloped at full speed towards Dule. Time was short; he knew that for certain. He needed three hours at the most… just three hours. His mind told him that it would never happen, that Noble wouldn’t make it. But his heart refused to believe it; Noble would have to be okay.
The mountains were huge and Dule was just on the other side, across from the River of Life. Noble moaned as sweat continued to drip from his head. His body was limp.
“Hold on Noble. Please hold on,”
***
Images popped out from every direction, wanting to swallow Noble up. He was terrified. He could see Akaidish sitting on the throne he had stolen, his head thrown back, roaring in laughter.
“It is the end for you,” Akaidish seethed.
He leaned forward and pointed his long, sharp, claw-like hand straight into Noble’s chest. It started gushing with blood; Noble screamed and his whole body shook from pain and fear.
“I’m coming for you,” he heard the evil king whisper in his ear.
His mind was overcome with fear. He was going to die.
***
Belbriv kept talking to an unresponsive Noble, who began to tremble.
“Hold on, Noble. We’re almost there, I can see Dule now,” the giant pleaded. “Oh God, please let us get there!” he prayed.
The river. Dule. Belbriv’s hometown. Everything. It was all in full view now. He kicked the horse and he thought its legs would get tangled together from running so fast. It had to be an hour they had rode from the town already; this horse was flying. Thank the Light that this horse was like Lightning! If he were on Tet the poor animal would have never made it.
He could see scouts stand up from behind boulders on the Mountain. They knew something was wrong. Very wrong. They followed Belbriv as fast as their own legs could carry them as the horse splashed across the cool, refreshing water. Belbriv held onto Noble tightly, whispering reassuring words into his ear, trying to also calm himself.
Dule. Home. Praise the bearer of the Light! He kicked the horse with his heels and the animal never missed a beat as it sprinted across the soft, open, grassy plain towards the town of Orn where Belbriv lived. Noble’s body was shaking. Was it too late? Belbriv couldn’t accept it as they sped through town to Biblen’s home.
He pulled on the horse’s reigns and the horse slid to a stop, sweating and gasping for air. The townspeople of Orn began to crowd around as Belbriv quickly carried Noble’s lifeless body into Biblen’s home.
“He needs you quickly!” he ordered as Biblen swept stuff off of a table for him to lay the boy on.
Biblen shouted commands to his wife and daughter to help him and Belbriv stayed out of the way, watching closely. Was he too late?
