The legend of alaburg al.., p.1
The Legend of Alaburg (Alaburg University 2), page 1
The Legend of laburg
Greg Walters
Copyright © 2021 Gregor Timme
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
English Translation by Patrick Moffatt
Cover design: Alerim
Copyright © 2015 Greg Walters 1st edition 2021
www.greg-walters.com
contact:info@greg-walters.com
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright
SEARCHING
UNDER THE MOUNTAIN
BACK TO LABURG
THE CARANTIAN FOREST
THE PIT
HOME AT LAST
AN ALMOST FORGOTTEN FRIEND
THE MYSTERY OF ROOM NUMBER THREE
OLD AND NEW ACQUAINTANCES
AN OMINOUS SPEECH
THE FIVE WISE ONES
READY FOR A NEW SEMESTER
INTERMEDIATE-LEVEL MAGIC
THE COUNCIL OF THE SEVEN ERR
UNDER OBSERVATION
IN THE GARDENS AT NIGHT
REMPTER HALL AT NIGHT
QUESTIONS AND PUNISHMENTS
SUMMONING AN OLD FRIEND
UNCOMFORTABLE QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS
FAIRY MISCHIEF
A STRANGE SPECIAL LESSON
KITCHEN DUTY
PLAYING BY YOUR OWN RULES
SECRET TRAINING
THE GARDENER, THE BROOM, AND THE ORC
RAZUCLAN'S LAST HOPE
THE FALL TOURNAMENT
THE FINALS
A FEAST AND FAREWELL
MORL'S MISSION
A HASTY DEPARTURE
TRACKS IN THE SNOW
AN UNWELCOMING INN
THE WARNING
KUMMERGOLD
IN THE RUINS OF GROENQWELL
THE LAST ELF
UNSTEADY UNDER FOOT
ENCOUNTER IN THE SEALANDS
THE WATCHTOWER
THE DARK-HAIRED ELF
BETRAYED BY LOVE
AMONG THE ENEMY
AT THE LAST MOMENT
THE BLACK SHIP
STAY IN CONTROL
BETRAYED
SURVIVORS AND CASUALTIES
PLOTTING
NEW FRIENDS AND FAMILY
EXAM RESULTS
About The Author
Books In This Series
SEARCHING
Bryn raced through the narrow, dimly lit tunnel, drenched in sweat, his hands and wrists scraping against the jagged rock walls on either side of him.
He winced. The back of his right hand caught the edge of a sharp stone again. This time the skin tore open, but there was no time to look at it, and the tunnel was pitch dark anyway. He kept on running.
He blocked out his desperate fear of confined spaces and the growing pain in his hands with the only thought that was driving him:
I have to find her!
He repeated it like a mantra.
I have to find her! I have to find her! I have to find her!
He ran on.
Then, without warning, a rock face loomed up before him. He skidded to a halt on the loose stones and stood for a moment to catch his breath. It was a junction, and the tunnel now split into left and right.
Which one should I take?
Every second counted.
He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and entered the realm. Immediately, his senses heightened a hundredfold. The narrow corridor around him melted into the colors of the rainbow, and the darkness in the tunnel receded. Though blue bands of energy predominated, bands of yellow and red also swirled around him.
For a moment, his eyes drifted over the fine marble rock face, but this wasn't what he'd come here for. He placed his palms on it.
I must find her! I must find her!
The multi-colored band of energy he'd woven around him penetrated the rock, and instantly he saw a map of the tunnel system in his mind. To the left! With this as his only guide, he turned left and entered the steeply descending passage.
This deep underground, the heat was sweltering, and his face was beaded with sweat. The stale air drained his strength even further.
The passage began to level off, but instead of picking up the pace, something told him to slow down. He squinted in the dim light. Another intersection lay a few yards ahead, and he pulled up. This time he had five passages from which to choose. Three of them were so low, he would have to crawl through them on all fours.
But he didn't care.
I have to find her! I have to find her!
He placed his hands on the passage wall to connect with the rock’s energy, but no sooner had the map formed in his mind than a bolt of light exploded next to him, leaving him momentarily blind. Reeling back from the shock, his head struck the sharp edge of the wall.
His eyes shut tightly against the searing pain, and he held his breath until the worst of it passed. He wanted to give up, but the words kept echoing in his head.
I have to find her! I have to find her!
He took a deep breath, staggered toward the middle tunnel, and dropped to his hands and knees, groaning. I'll have to crawl. But, from out of the darkness, just as he was about to enter, a voice boomed.
"Stop, stop, Bryn! Time's up! You ignored the damn realm alarm again. As much as I'd like to, even with the hometown advantages I have here, I can't make the signal any more dramatic than it already is. Please, remember that when your time's up you must heed the alarm. But, congratulations," Filixx's voice went on, "you did make it further than last time. Oh, and someone better take a look at your head too—your forehead's bleeding. A lot. And I'm sure your hands could do with a break. Don't forget we're still on vacation. Stay where you are. Morlâ will be right there."
Bryn slumped forward, too weak, too disappointed to answer.
I must do better, or I'll never find Drena.
Lying there, he imagined Drena at the window, leaning over the candle, glancing up, her face so close to his, blowing out the light.
UNDER THE MOUNTAIN
A light bluish glow began to fill the dark tunnel. The mystical glow, Bryn realized, was coming from a werelight swaying from one side of the tunnel to the other.
He sat up, leaned against the rock wall, his head slumped forward, and kicked at the fine broken stones littering the path. A small, sturdy figure approached, the werelight following its every move.
At least Morlâ's good at performing magic now.
"Hey Bryn, why are you sitting silently in the dark? I nearly didn't find you. You and Filixx may be able to find people and the source of magic through the energy flowing in rocks, but a poor, simple dwarf like me still has to rely on his eyes and ears." Morlâ offered his hand to Bryn.
Bryn rose, groaning. "Well, you're not such a simple dwarf now." He pointed to the shimmering bluish werelight floating above Morlâ's left hand.
In the glow of the werelight, Morlâ's face appeared blue and his eyes sparkled.
"Yes, I suppose you're right." Morlâ shrugged his shoulders. He went to move off but stopped. "Oh, and I owe it all to you!"
"Nonsense," Bryn said. "I just awakened the talent you already had."
"No, it was more than that, but let's not go there. Come on. These narrow side tunnels are so stuffy I can hardly breathe. Let's go back to the living quarters. Filixx is waiting for us, and your forehead could use his healing hands."
Bryn summoned a rainbow-colored werelight, and they headed north through the narrow tunnels, bathed in the shifting patterns of color.
"Bryn, you need to take better care of yourself!"
"Yes, yes, yes," he said, feeling a little uncomfortable being mothered by Filixx.
Filixx dabbed Bryn's sore hands and forehead with a smelly brown liquid that burned terribly. But, after a few seconds, it numbed the wounds and caused them to heal surprisingly quickly. They had come to the Wañaglinĝ Mountains, a vast mountain range with an extensive network of caves beneath, and the land of the dwarves on Razuclan, to spend the holidays at Filixx's underground village, Falyn. Filixx's mother was away, and Morlâ's parents were also off traveling on a diplomatic mission in the evergreen forests of the elves, escorting the dwarf Grand Bailiff as his blacksmith and maid. The boys were free to do as they pleased.
As the days went by, Bryn became accustomed to the local dwarves' curious looks. They liked to follow him when he went through the Falyn market with Filixx and Morlâ.
At first, Bryn was a little apprehensive when Morlâ and Filixx first led him proudly through the massive stone gates into the underground realm of the dwarves. For him, caves had always been narrow, dirty, damp holes in the ground, which he avoided as best he could because of his claustrophobia. He could never forget how he had humiliated himself at the Starball tournament. His elf opponent had put a Hypnosis Spell on him, which made him believe the ground was swallowing him. Since then, he found confined places even more frightening.
But the dwarf kingdom was utterly different. It consisted of hundreds of large, warm, and well-lit caves connected by tunnels or ra
This phenomenon, Morlâ explained to Bryn, was called shimmering moss, a plant that not only thrived deep underground but gave off light and lit the caves as well.
Day traders came to Falyn. They arrived on small, massive, wooden wagons, which could travel on steel rails through the entire land of the dwarves in just a few hours. They bought yak milk or cheese from the local farmers, as well as different kinds of mushrooms. Mostly they paid with silver; in rare cases, also with gold. Once, Bryn saw a particularly fat merchant paying for his purchases with a sparkling jewel.
All this did not correspond at all to what Bryn had imagined. Dwarves, he had assumed, were only miners, processing and selling earth's valuable raw materials. But in Falyn, most of them were simple farmers. Just like most humans. Filixx explained that only a small group of dwarves were engaged in mining for gold, silver, and precious stones. None of the other peoples of Razuclan, he added, would ever venture so deep underground into these remote corners of their world. Even so, it was those precious materials, masterfully worked by the dwarf craftsmen, that aroused the greatest desires of other nations and often provoked envy and war.
Bryn was sure no one would attack the dwarf kingdom just for its cheese. Filixx himself admitted that the rock-hard, beastly-smelling yak cheese had few buyers outside the Wañaglinĝ Mountains, unlike the jewelry, finely crafted weapons, and armor produced here. This impression had probably led most of the inhabitants of Razuclan to assume, as Bryn had, that dwarves were only concerned with money, gems, and precious metals.
"By the end of the week, your hands and forehead should be healed," Filixx said, packing his healing kit.
In the meantime, Morlâ had found a framed painting in a box and was examining it. He let out a whistle and showed it to Filixx. "Who is this dwarf beauty? Trying to keep this gorgeous creature from us now, are you, Filixx?"
"No. That's my mother as a young girl, Morlâ. Please put it back where you found it."
Morlâ quickly replaced the painting. "Um … yes. She was—is a stunning looking woman."
Filixx nodded and washed his hands. "Yes, yes, she was. But maybe it would have been better for her not to be so beautiful …" Filixx picked up the box, pushed it into a cupboard, and slammed the door.
Bryn and Morlâ looked at each other. Neither of them understood the change in Filixx's normally pleasant demeanor.
"Anyway. Did anyone see you in the outer tunnels?" Filixx asked.
"No, of course not. We understand what will happen if someone finds out what we're teaching Bryn."
It was not normal for Filixx to share a dwarf spell with someone from another nation. Although Filixx himself—with a dwarf mother and an elf father—was also only half-dwarf. Perhaps this explained why he initiated Bryn into the secret magic of the dwarves—and also because Bryn was his friend. Filixx knew Bryn was preoccupied with the mysterious disappearance of his love, Drena. They suspected she was being held captive by the Vonnyens. And because of their experience in the mine in Sefal, Filixx decided to teach Bryn how to read the energy flowing in rocks, so he could find Drena if the Vonnyens were holding her somewhere underground. Morlâ had enthusiastically agreed to Filixx's plan, even though he was yet to master the spell himself.
BACK TO LABURG
The days flew by, and Bryn began to enjoy life among the dwarves more and more, especially after Filixx and Morlâ introduced him to Mäerñ—a strong beer made with fermented yak milk. Humans could never get properly drunk from drinking it, as the human stomach can only tolerate small amounts of this highly fatty drink. But it suited dwarf digestion perfectly. Nevertheless, tonight it led to fits of giggling in Filixx's small stone bedroom, which all of them were sharing.
After a far too short night of sleep, tired and in a bad mood, Bryn and Filixx sat on their horses, waiting for Morlâ, who was still in bed. Bryn resolved not to drink Mäerñ again. Finally, Morlâ staggered to his horse, and soon they were exiting the main gate to the vast network of dwarf caves. They nodded to the grim-looking guard. Bryn wondered where his comrade was. They usually stood guard in pairs.
As they trotted out from the darkness and into the bright sunlight, Morlâ and Filixx warned Bryn to cover his eyes with his scarf—a good idea after spending weeks under the ground in artificial light. Despite the scarf, the intense sun left Bryn's eyes burning and made them water. Morlâ and Filixx needed no such protection. For millennia, dwarf eyes had been used to making this abrupt adjustment.
They rode out from the mountain for a few hours and arrived at a junction. Morlâ took the left path to go back the way they had come. "Wait, Morlâ," Filixx said. "Let's go the other way. Ride back to laburg through the Carantian Forest. It's only a little detour, but it means the day after tomorrow we can stop at the Tankard Inn."
"It means camping in the forest overnight. It will take us an extra day and a half to reach the Tankard Inn. Anyway, I know why you want to go there. I haven't forgotten the roast boar on the menu, either," Morlâ said, winking.
"Er, yes, let's go. A summer night in the woods, why not? We have plenty of time after all," Filixx said.
Bryn agreed too. He was glad to be back above ground, and the summer weather made a night in the forest with his friends even more tempting. The forest had once been his home. And the last time he had eaten roast boar was in Sefal—a long time ago, when he was a hunter.
Morlâ turned his horse around, and they rode swiftly along the sandy path to the right, toward the Carantian Forest.
Seeing his older colleague walk up to the gate, the young guard lowered his weapon.
"Oh, that was such a relief," said the older guard, pulling up his leather pants. "Anything happen while I was gone?"
"Nothing special. Filixx left. Back to magic school. With his little friend and the human."
"Well, that's all good then." He adjusted his steel helmet so that it protected his nose. "Did you warn them about the Carantian Forest? There have been several raids there these past few weeks. Several merchants have disappeared."
"No, I didn't. I didn't know that!" The young guard turned quickly, his knee-length chainmail clanking loudly, in the vain hope of catching a glimpse of Filixx and the others.
"No, they're long gone. Still, I wouldn't worry about it. Going through the forest would be a detour for the boys anyway. Why would they take the long way back to laburg?"
THE CARANTIAN FOREST
They rode slowly along the neatly laid path through the forest, Morlâ in the lead. Among the old oaks, birches, maples, and beeches, it was pleasantly cool after the late summer heat.
Bryn was glad to be here. The lush greenery around him and the spicy smell of the earth reminded him of his early years spent deep in the woods hunting with Gerald. A slight breeze rustled a thousand leaves above his head. "Now, this is a well-kept forest," he said.
"Yes. All the inhabitants of the mountain share in the upkeep of the forest. Isn't that right, Filixx?
Filixx nodded.
"I didn't realize elves and dwarves could have so much in common!" Bryn grinned.
"If you're referring to Gwendolin, well, ah … I mean if you're implying …" Morlâ tugged at his collar. "Yes … we do take care of our land, even if the common belief is we spend all day and night huddled underground."
Filixx looked off into the distance. "I'm looking forward to the wild boar. If we hurry, we could be feasting on some by noon tomorrow."
"Yes, but you'd eat it any time of day or night," Morlâ said. "So there's no need to rush. That is why we're here, after all, why we're adding almost a day to our journey.
They rode on, deeper and deeper into the forest, the path growing very narrow but still well maintained, and so the horses made swift progress. Eventually, it became too dark to continue riding, and they decided to set up camp for the night. While Morlâ went looking for firewood, Bryn took care of Reven, Morlâ's pony, and Filixx's big draft horse, and Filixx was already cutting thick strips of bacon into small cubes on a wooden board and plucking some wild herbs by the wayside for dinner.
