“There was a tavern and inn less than a click behind us. I’ve warned you before, you need your rest!”, Princess Alalea spoke to Derargs’ hulking, fur-covered form. He continued to stomp through the heavy, thick, wet snowfall that had dumped enough to cover even his rhinaplast boots that he stole from a tower guardsman long before he became a ghost-sitter/possible world-savior.
For not the upteenth hundredth time, he nodded, the horns on his padded war-helm vibrating his miserable agreement. He knew the spirited (in more than one way recently) Princess was right. Again. The Three Legged Unicorn was lit and warmed by the circular fireplace and welcoming with the smell of roasted, spiced winter bear that wandered too close to the hunting camps. “I realize that, your graciousness. I think we can make better time getting to the Temple of Vrisian to deliver this ruby by….”
“What is it with you traveling barbarians and your need for control conquering things like time and schedules? The prophecy time isn’t for another 2 weeks. I showed you where my father’s gold stash is and you haven’t been using it. You’ve been sleeping out in the….” she acted like she could actually feel the freezing wind carrying the heavy flakes of snow hitting the broad-backed former soldier.. “Elements, risking your death of cold. No offense meant at all, truly, good sir, but I would prefer you not join me in this realm.”
Derarg paused, turning his hooded head away from the onslaught of snow slamming on him. He paused before speaking to the late Princess, heir-apparent of the Kingdom of Rarkaria. His attempted rescue was only a few days ago, her life-long royal home and family destroyed from an inside betrayal, and to top that off, an amateur barbarian adventurer attempted to save her from the demonic-possessed royal advisor. But, with that failure came the fruition of his plan. Her ghost-form was sealed to him until he could locate the Ruby of Sapphire Light and drop it in the Well of Dark Eternity. Funny how these magicians have nothing better to do than to create long, epic-sounding names. And how Princesses knew more than traveling former soldiers. “I meant no disrespect, your grace. I meant to say that the sooner we arrive at the Temple, the sooner I can find this watering hole…pardon me…Well of Dark Eternity…and figure out a way to overthrow that addle-brained advisor of yours.” He turned back and continued at a brisker pace, trudging through the additional snowfall, starting to pant. Though he thought that she was being a nag, he realized that he could use a break. Maybe the cave that looked close by to the left. There were dead trees around, so there was a great potential for a campfire. He turned and relayed his plan to Alalea. She seemed to shrug, looking around the valley quickly turning white, tinged with red and orange from the down-going sun. She continued floating, or hovering, as Derarg pointed out, much to her annoyance. She insisted that she was floating above the cold, wet, and sometimes muddy ground.
Derarg found it odd how he could hear her clearly when the wind was blustering harder than before, a high pitched howling even in his deer-skin lined hood. Magic and spirits always gave him a headache and he couldn’t afford to be distracted by that right now with the landscape starting to turn dark and white at the same time. He pushed on harder now and arrived at the cave, breaking up some dried timber, shaking it free of snow and lit it with the flint in his pack as quick as he could. He started to go back into the depths of the cave and then realized that he had a non-corporeal travel-mate….”friend” might be pushing it….and she couldn’t be hurt by a bear, or anything venomous. Plus, she seemed to be generating some kind of light on her own. Glowing. He asked her gracious, wondrous majesty if she would please scout out the rest of the cave to determine if any potential dangerous animals lived there. It took a lot out of him to form those words. That, and being kind to her. He knew that she had been through a horrible time, so he cut her a break. She agreed to the soft, courtly, diplomatic language and…flew…down the depths of the cave while Derarg lit a somewhat comfortable fire and brought out the days’ rations. He sat, watching and hearing the strips of preserved rabbit meat strips sizzle and brown in the fire. Chewing his lower lip thinking, a habit the formerly living Princess hated most foully, he considered the royal ghosts’ words. As if from a script in a royally commissioned play, the glow from her near-transparent form arrived.
No dangerous beasts that could harm your mortal form are in the tunnels I explored. There seemed to be some lovely raw gems, however. But, I seem to have no use for them.” She sat down, her head down, next to Derarg on the rock. He did a double take, seeing her do something…mortal like sitting next to him. He heard that sometimes, ghosts forget they aren’t human and act like they still are.
“Something the matter?”
“It is merely… I wished to understand why you continue to refuse lodging that can be easily paid for? A warm meal cooked by talented persons, a heavy roof over your head, a larger fire than this…” she indicated the struggling blaze, battling against the harsh winds attempting to invade the ring of warmth starting to build. “Though the inn was small and slightly dilapidated, it looked cozy and capable of housing you for a day and night. Whyever wouldn’t you stay for a night there at least? Is it some sort of barbaric code of honor to suffer as often as possible?”
“It’s a sign.”
“What? The sign on the inn?”
“No.”
The cold wind continued to howl and attempt to douse the hard-worked fire. The flickering lights on the dark, mineral walls showing resistance to the potentially invading forces of nature, threatening their masters’ comfort.
“Then what, pray tell??”
He knew that tone. There would be no peace that night unless he surrendered a legitimate reason. “There have been omens since we began this journey. The orcs at the other Temple, the fake ruby from the fallen priest. Your…rescue..” He turned away, bundling himself up, pretending to be more chilled. The chill wasn’t from the building snow and icy winds.
“You think you failed me. How dare you?!”
“You’re dead, aren't you??” He shouted to the cave wall, but ended up facing her instead, her transparent face popping up before him.
“Stop being such a spoiled Princess and accept your reward! What happened to me was an accident! And yes, the result of human evil, wrought on destruction and greed of power, but that wasn’t YOU who instigated that! I can’t be saved from your stubborn, pig-headedness if you end up becoming ill and unable to fulfill the prophecy and freeing me of your barbarian dramatics! A sign….ill omens. In case you haven’t noticed it, I’M DEAD. YOU need to do everything to take care of yourself so you can….oh, why am I wasting my time….go on. Be foolish and freeze to death and get eaten by that great toothed bear that I saw on my way back here.”
Grumbling, Derarg suddenly jumped up, looking at the dark recesses of the cave. “WHAT?!?” and drew his great broadsword.
All he saw in his way was a formerly living Princess grinning at him. “That got you on your feet. If you head back now, you can still get a bowl of that stew and warm your frozen feet against that fire.”
Derarg hated this. Tricked by a ghost. He slid the sword back in the scabbard and stood thinking. Maybe all of this so far wasn’t all his fault. “I could take the easy route and blame my father for leaving me so early and my mother for blaming me and abandoning me, but that’s not how barbarians do things.” He winked at Princess Alarlea and began gathering his things and letting the fire go out. Roasted and spice stew would be a good break in their journey right about now. Time to plan and reconsider a few things as well.
