Gift of Gold (The Year of Churning Bloods) (5 page)

“No tier--Jacob Ofpacis, please follow me,” he chuckled, extending a fat finger. I looked at the professor in desperation, however he merely shrugged.

“Do come back Jacob,” The professor advised. “It would be a terrible shame If I had to find a new favorite trainee.” He winked slightly as if we were sharing an inside joke before leaning in a little. “Just as important, do try to keep your pockets clean.” I nodded despite not knowing what in the world he meant, before looking up at the other man. The elder grabbed me painfully around the arm before leading me into a nearby tunnel. Had it not been for his forceful strides guiding me into the twisted passage, navigation through the darkness would have been impossible. The elder spoke quickly, summarizing exactly everything I was supposed to do once in the forest.

              “Bring the key to podium, unlock the flag, go down, all in seven days.” I recited to myself. After a few more roundabouts, all movement suddenly stopped. The elder fiddled with what sounded like a locked door, before swinging it open and viciously tossing me in. I limply collapsed to the floor, and listened as the barricade was slammed behind me and hastily bolted four times. I waited in sustained silence as the footsteps of the elder trickled off into the distance.

              The lone torch present in the room provided just enough light for me to see the contents of the area clearly. The only object of immediate interest was a small under-stuffed rucksack which lay sprawled in in the center of the domain. Beside that lay a notched sword and a battered looking shield. The fact that they had bothered to give us weapons at all was at least somewhat of a relief, despite the fact that I didn’t know the first thing about swordplay. As my eyes grew accustomed to the sudden brightness, I began to notice large amount of fractured bone scattered along the edges of the space. I was about to ask myself how it got there before suddenly thinking better of it. Instead, I began sorting through the materials I was provided. A tarp made of tightly woven fibres, an empty flask, and a bit of rope. No food, no water and no hope.

              In “
Health Care through the Centuries
” by Garroth Tomb, it is said that an average human being can survive up to three months without food. I imagine by ‘average’ they are referring to someone who has been well fed in the first place. Someone like me, who has only had one or two good meals his entire life, would probably be expected to live only a week or two without food. One week was all it would take, so I imagined my first priority would be to find food quickly before advancing to the podium.

              “
A guide to game
” by Anita Horrid described a few simple methods of making snare traps. Assuming there was appropriate game in the forest I would be able to effectively supply myself with my own food without need for hunting. I found a side pocket on the satchel I didn’t notice before, and opened it quickly. A fair sized metallic baton, etched with many deep grooves clattered to the floor before me: “This has to be the key.” I thought to myself as my fingers fumbled over the sharp corners of the object. As I was placing it back into the rucksack side pocket, I felt something shift in my pants pocket. My hand traced the outline of what seemed to be fractured glass. I frowned, before removing it and holding it up to the light to get a better look.

              It was an elaborate vial filled to the cork with an oily wheat coloured liquid. The unnerving heat of the object spread across my palm at a startling rate, submerging my hand in total warmth within seconds. It was almost as if this vial had been held over a fire for a while; warm enough to be unnatural, but cool enough to grip. I wondered why it had taken me this long to notice this. The curious way in which the glass refracted the light around it gave the entire body an eerie glow that expanded and contracted as if the material inside was breathing. I stared in disbelief for maybe five, ten, a hundred or so seconds, and much to my relief absolutely nothing happened during this time. Despite all notions I may have had, it was still an inanimate object.

“But what is it? Where did it come from?” I wondered helplessly. I fumbled with the glass for a couple more seconds, examining it from all angles, before gingerly pocketing it. Could it possibly be something of Professor Wenchenberg’s? There was no one else capable or willing to give me something that strange. The idea that the professor was helping despite his position filled me with giddy pleasure. Despite that though, there were flashes of doubt.

Assuming of course the professor wanted me to use this for the exams, he hadn’t told me what it would do, or even acknowledged its existence. The malevolent way it radiated heat suggested a great amount of power, however nothing I had ever heard of seemed to correspond to this strange substance. It could belong to the Grimlars. I reasoned with myself. What if this was just another one of their tests? To slip us a vial of poison, and kill off those who were stupid enough to drink it? The elder leading me into the room was most definitely close enough to slip me anything; he had practically been carrying me after all.

              Something metallic clicked in the distance and the great sweeping feeling of panic quickly returned, bringing with it a hive of cold shivers. Amidst this fear however, there was something slightly warm buried deep inside. Was it hope maybe? I had a plan, and I had whatever weird object was in my possession. It was entirely possible that even through my suspicions and fears, I had hope. The area around me gave a huge heaving shudder and much to my horror, the wall opposite the door began to lift up. As a new darker area gradually opened up, the room was washed with freezing air. The passage opened further and further until with a loud snap, the entire mechanism stopped and I was left facing the dark forest enclosure.

              I was instantly smacked by the vivid perfume of the muddy forest floor just beyond my line of sight and was reminded of the forest just outside my old orphanage. I stood still, drinking in the ominous chatter of wildlife just beyond my vision and found myself strangely troubled by the lack of movement just outside the flickering torchlight. After I quickly gathered all the resources I had and forcefully removed the torch flickering pitifully behind me. With a dramatic fizz, the fire sizzled out, leaving nothing but a fleeting warmth, and a burnt stick of charcoal.

              I cursed my luck, and began a brisk walk in a random direction, looking back every third step. After forty four and a half paces, I had completely lost my way. The commanding presence of the trees dominated the majority of the landscape, with their dark tentacle like limbs reaching out to stroke the thin night air. Since there were no visible landmarks, the re-occurring weave of the branches left me feeling more disoriented than I had even been before.

              Step step step look, step step step look.
              crack, check, peer, ponder, worry, wonder,

             
spin, sigh, shake, look, step step step look.

              A cackling band of beast noises broke through the dense walls of the trees as some twigs broke in the distance. Fear whipped my stride into a light jog, making me desperate to escape from whatever was surrounding me. The sound of my chest rapidly expanding and contracting was the only thing my ears could filter out besides the cold crunch of the earth from beneath my feet. I had to find shelter and I had to find it fast.

              Thick gnarled roots flying before my feet acted like waves of trip wires which I desperately tried to avoid. With surprising spontaneity the terrain turned into a slope of plant life, often times so steep I had to climb with all fours. I reached the top of the bushy hillside, before my crippling lack of breath caused me to stop and pant like a feral animal. To my left was the passage I had emerged from. To my right was a spacious opening, allowing out onto a small cliff which overlooked the wall of the forest.

              I carefully peered over the cliff edge and was surprised to see a somewhat cozy dirt cavern just below where I was standing. Grabbing hold of some roots which had been tangled into a thick descending coil, I silently lowered myself into the dusty space. A chandelier of sprouts held above me was the only feature of the otherwise insignificant area before me. I froze suddenly. Had I just heard something? I quickly paced the perimeter of the enclosure while fumbling blindly to make sure that I was in fact, alone. After covering the small perimeter nearly three times over, I tied the tarp in front of the opening, and waited for the dust to settle down before gathering twigs.

My callused hands tore at the fibres of the ceiling, uprooting whatever I could. Once I had assumed a fair sized pile of plant fibre, I frantically began fiddling with them, trying desperately to replicate what I could remember about crafting bird traps. “Over the knot once around. Or was it twice?” I heard the twig snap in my hand and I threw it down in aggravation before picking up another one. I spent so long in the darkness that my eyes began to play tricks on me. Large grey spots would swim just out of sight before disappearing as soon they were noticed. Half an hour later with careful composure, I somehow managed to craft exactly four. I timidly poked myself outside, long enough to string the snares across a few of the lower tree bristles nearby. Retreating back into the cavern, I curled myself into a tight ball and after I was sure I was free from danger, slowly rocked myself to sleep.

             
Chapter two
              Shaking Hands with a Tree

             
Frolic
in fear,
             
run and revere
              Only to find,
              Mind, that is near not your own

             
I woke with a snap of consciousness that slapped me across the face and forced me to scramble to attention. I hurriedly folded up the tarp encasing the opening and was stunned by the heaviness of the clouds in the sky. Disappointment set in as I examined three of the snares I had made from yesterday which all looked quite empty. The fourth one had unraveled itself, possibly due to a faulty knot. I untied the three that were still intact before throwing them into my knapsack, and setting off away from the forest wall.

              A single scream pierced the early morning air before alarmingly stopping.
Startled horribly, I ripped my sword out and
flipped
to my right
where the s
ound had emanated from, however there appeared to be nothing but a lofty passageway leading onto a gentle path. I ignored this and instead carried on forward, traversing the difficult terrain as an alternative. The once nutrient dense landscape around me faded into oblivion as I continued my advance. Up and up a withered dirt plateau I climbed noticing with alarm how the earth had become a pale, pasty gray. A freezing wave of air blasted into me as I finished my ascent, forcing my eyes away from quite possibly the largest plane of flat space I had ever seen. Colorless cracked earth shot in every direction, with finger like gaps ripping apart the lifeless landscape before me. For what felt like miles, there appeared to be nothing but the carcass of gray soil.

The only things that could be seen in the immediate area were dozens of table sized boulders which peered at me from afar. I considered doubling back however something off in the distance caught my attention. Plastered behind the everlasting space rested a single mountain peak scraping the underside of the sky. Unmistakably this was the podium. With such a direct route, it seemed utter madness to make a detour that could sacrifice many precious hours. In an attempt to shrug off the cold, I crossed my arms and began to walk as fast as my legs would allow. Before long. All traces of the vegetation behind me had vanished completely, leaving me with nothing but my thoughts.

***

I swallowed hard and my dry throat prickled up like it was full of pins. I‘d been walking for maybe four hours, and it felt like I was no closer to my destination than before. I tried experimentally picking at the chilly flakes of dirt below me and was startled to find that it was just about as hard as any other rock. With great effort I managed to break apart a small pile of the dry soil. I sighed, realizing that digging for water was not an option. Every step I took, I hopelessly stared off into the distance for anything of any new significance, however my gaze was always met by the same cold horizon before me. The only features that suggested I was moving any closer to my destination were the snares of cracks rushing below my feet and the occasional boulder, slowly rolling past my line of sight. Despite the thick blanket of clouds smothering the sky, it was apparent that the sun was soon about to set.

I doubled my pace in the hopes that I wouldn’t need to sleep in this empty space. I deepened my breathing and was pleased to find my vision grow sharper. If I had to rest, I would rest in the morning when it was at least a little warmer. The lack of light was initially quite disturbing, however after a while, some of the clouds parted, letting the moonlight reflect off of the pale landscape and giving my surroundings an eerie glow. Off in the distance, the peculiar sound of metal clicking ticked away like a maniacal clock.