The Stone Keeper's Quest- Elrich
Chapter 2

Elrich wondered if King Gilfillan’s army had seen the ‘sun’ fall from the sky. He felt a surge of fear and reached for his pocketknife. “Seven hells!” he cursed. He had left his knife behind, of all the days. He looked around for something sharp but saw nothing. He sat down and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling helpless. A splash of white on a nearby rock caught his eye. He looked up and saw two vultures circling above him. Bloody scavengers, he thought.

He looked at the rock again and saw that it was stained with bird droppings. A desperate idea came to him. He grabbed a stone and smashed it against the round rock that had knocked him out earlier. The stone cracked in half, leaving two jagged edges. He picked the sharper one and began to cut the dragon’s skin. It took him more than an hour to finish the gruesome task.

He folded the hide as best he could and tried to lift it. It was too heavy for him. He decided to drag it instead. He pulled with all his strength, moving it a few inches at a time. He avoided the bare ground and stayed on the grass, hoping to leave no trace. When he reached a thick patch of vegetation, he stopped and covered the hide and the Firestone with branches. Then he ran as fast as he could to the nearest farm.

*****

In the heart of the Enchanted Forest, there was a village of witches. Their houses were made of baobab trees, arranged in circles around a sacred shrine. The shrine had a magic well and two altars for sacrifices. The innermost circle of houses belonged to the royal family and the Grand Witches. There were four gates in the village, each facing one of the cardinal directions.

Atop each gate, a huge eye of a frost giant watched for any threat. Queen Witch Moribund, the ruler of the witches, had called the Grand Witches to her chambers. The twelve Grand Witches sat around a round wooden table, whispering in sibilant tones. Their talk was cut short by the sound of the door slamming open and hitting the wall with a loud bang.

They all rose to their feet in a flash. “Your Grace!” they said as one.

The queen walked to the table, without a word. She pulled her throne with a screech that pierced the tense silence. She sat on her throne built from the bones of enemies and gestured with her right hand. The Grand Witches followed suit. A small aye-aye perched on the queen’s right shoulder. It was her familiar, an animal companion that aided her in her magic.

“Sisters, a week ago, two of our own were captured and burned at the stake by King Gilfillan’s executioner,” Queen Witch Moribund said. She looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each of the Grand Witches who sat in a circle around her.

The Grand Witches nodded and muttered in agreement. Some of them clenched their fists, others wiped away tears. “For years, we have lived in hiding, hunted, killed for being what nature made us. Sisters, it is time to fight for our freedom,” the queen said, her round face showing grave concern.

“I say it is time,” she repeated. She raised her voice, hoping to inspire courage and confidence in her sisters.

“Yes, my queen, I think we should—” Evanora, the queen’s second-in-command, began to say, but was interrupted by the door bursting open again. Everyone turned their heads to see who had dared to enter without permission.

Queen Witch Moribund glared at her daughter, who stood in the doorway, panting. “Madeleine, how many times have I told you not to disturb me when I am in a meeting?” she snapped, her face turning red with anger.

“There is a…, the sun…, the prophecy,” Madeleine stammered.

“Girl, you better speak clearly or not at all,” the queen said. She waved her hand impatiently, motioning for Madeleine to come closer.

“I’m sorry, mother, but you have to see this,” Madeleine said, ignoring her mother’s wrath.

“What is it?” Queen Witch Moribund demanded, waving her hands.

“Mother, the sun is falling,” Madeleine said. A cold silence filled the room. The Grand Witches gasped and whispered among themselves. Some of them looked out of the window nervously.

“Elders, this meeting is over for now,” the queen said, feeling a sudden urge to see for herself. She rose from her seat and followed her daughter outside. She grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders as she walked out of the door.

Madeleine stopped and pointed at a bright ball of fire descending from the heavens. “Look, mother,” she said.

Queen Witch Moribund gazed at the sky with wide eyes. She saw a bright ball of fire descending from the heavens. “The sun is falling,” she repeated. She felt a chill run down her spine as she realized what this meant for their world.

Witches came out of their houses, crowding the streets, staring at the strange sight that soon disappeared behind the tall trees. They murmured and shouted questions and fears. Some of them cried and hugged each other. Others looked angry and defiant.

“Madeleine, take three sisters with you and investigate,” the queen ordered.

“Yes, mother,” Madeleine said, walking away. She scanned the crowd for three volunteers who would join her on this dangerous mission.

“Madeleine,” the queen called after her. Madeleine turned around. She saw her mother’s face soften with concern and love. “Be careful,” the queen said.

“Yes, mother,” Madeleine said. She went into her baobab tree house and came out a moment later with her flying stick. She put the stick between her legs and it lifted her into the air. The other sisters did the same and they flew away quickly following the trail of smoke that marked where the sun had fallen.

*****

In the capital of the kingdom, the castle was built of hard chalk, limestone and sandstone. Oak wood was used for the frames, ceilings and floors. The castle was protected by high curtain walls and seven round towers spaced evenly along them.

The curtain walls were surrounded by a moat filled with water that had turned black from oil. A wooden drawbridge crossed the moat, using a system of pulleys and winches to raise and lower it. There was one tower that faced the inland, where King Gilfillan sat on that fateful day.

The tower was a lonely place, but King Gilfillan liked it that way. He enjoyed the quiet hours of reading and studying, away from the noise and troubles of his realm. He was deep in a tome of ancient lore when a flash of light caught his eye. He looked up and saw a fiery orb streaking across the sky, leaving a trail of smoke behind it. It plunged towards the earth, disappearing behind the green canopy of the forest.

“What in the seven hells?” King Gilfillan muttered, his silver-grey eyes wide with wonder and disbelief. He rose from his chair and grabbed his cloak.

“Merlin!” he shouted. “Fetch me my armour!” Merlin, his loyal squire, came running in. He was a scrawny lad of eighteen, with a mop of brown hair and a freckled face. He had been serving the king since he was twelve, and he admired him greatly.

“Yes, Your Grace?” he said.

“My armour, boy. And tell the First Commander to ready the horses. We’re going hunting.” said King Gilfillan.

“Hunting, Your Grace?” Merlin repeated, confused.

“Yes, hunting. Now go!” King Gilfillan snapped.

Merlin nodded and ran out. He returned shortly with a wooden cart that carried a metal dummy dressed in the king’s armor. It was a fine suit of steel plate, polished and engraved with the sigil of House Gilfillan: a golden lion on a crimson field. Merlin quickly undressed the dummy and helped the king don his armor.

“Did you inform the commander?” King Gilfillan asked.

“Yes, Your Grace. He’s assembling the men as we speak,” Merlin said.

“Good. I have a craving for some wild boar tonight,” King Gilfillan said.

He fastened his sword belt around his waist and put on his helmet. He followed Merlin out of the tower and into the main hall of the castle. The servants bowed their heads as he passed by.

“Your Majesty,” they said in unison.

He ignored them and strode towards the courtyard, where First Commander Zachary was waiting for him with thirty mounted knights. Zachary was a grizzled veteran of many battles, with a scarred face and a bushy beard. He saluted the king as he approached. “Your Majesty,” he said. “The horses are ready.”

“We ride west, into the forest,” King Gilfillan said.

He mounted his white stallion, a magnificent beast with a silver mane and tail. He pulled on the reins and turned to face his men.

“Lower the drawbridge,” Zachary ordered.

The heavy wooden bridge creaked and groaned as it descended over the moat. King Gilfillan spurred his horse and led the way across it, followed by Zachary and the rest of the knights. They rode out of the castle gates and into the open fields, heading towards the dark woods.