Chapter 2: life and death
Full of agony and sorrow, Themeus wept violently beside his dead friend. Sitting on the cold ground, Themeus lowered his head to his knees. His mind was full of question, his eyes full of tears. He repeated the description of Demeus’s attacker in his mind, and wondered if it was really him. Had Trymissius killed Demeus? It was a likely scenario, flying in every direction of Themeus’s brain. No beast could have marked Demeus’s arm with a skull, unless another savage killed him. Themeus thought of Rugen, how he kept the most important detail of his life away from him all these years, and had dragged Baitamius on Themeus’s story as well.
Was Rugen all he said he was, or was there more to that old man? What was this castle of Plastil? What were Rugen’s ties to it? How long had he known Demetrian and Baitamius? Themeus’s head swarmed with questions. Turning his head, he stared at the skull on Demeus’s arm.
“Themeus!” Rugen yelled as he ran outside, Baitamius following. They walked over to Themeus’s side, and saw the dead body of Demeus. Kneeling down beside the carcass, Rugen put a hand on the cold forehead, whispering. Rising to his feet, Themeus immediately pushed Rugen’s hand away from Demeus.
“This is your fault! If you told me about Trymissius sooner I could have prevented this from happening!” Themeus yelled, “I think Demeus was killed by Trymissius. There is a skull on his arm.
Immediately, Rugen turned his attention to the skull on Demeus. Gazing up in the sky, Baitamius and Rugen both saw that same skull.
“When did the skull appear on Demeus?” Baitamius asked.
“I don’t know!” Themeus answered angrily, not caring at the moment.
“You should get some sleep,” Rugen said.
“Fine!” Themeus said as he went inside, followed by Rugen and Baitamius. Glancing at the skull, fear came over Baitamius’s eyes as he slammed the door, and went inside. Themeus ran upstairs, throwing himself onto his creaky, old, white bed, attempting to calm himself down. Sitting upright, he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Realizing there was no longer anything he could say or do that night, he laid down on his back and went to bed.
The next mourning the body of Demeus was set ablaze. Themeus, grasping a wooden torch, tossed it upon a haystack. Baitamius put a hand upon Themeus’s shoulder, as a tear ran down Themeus’s cheek. Rugen, Baitamius, and Themeus all stood silent, respecting the dead.
“I will avenge you Demeus.” Themeus said as smoke began to fill the air. With one more painful look at his lost friend, Rugen brought Themeus inside along with Baitamius.
Themeus sat down in a chair, near a small, circular table. Still mourning the death of Demeus, he spoke,
“Rugen, I’m sorry about the other day. I was frustrated; I did not want to listen to you. I did not want to accept that you are wise, and wished to tell me about this future when you thought I was ready.”
“It is behind us. Besides, I should not have told you all at once,” Rugen said.
“I just can’t believe that something this important was placed upon my shoulders. Themeus said.
“The world works in mysterious ways, most of which we cannot understand,” Rugen said.
“I do not plan on becoming king. I thought about it for a while, but that’s just not for me, I want to live a normal life, not a life of violence and warfare.” Themeus said.
“It’s not your decision to make; life is sometimes unfair that way.” Rugen said, reaching for the golden sword upon a wooden mantle beside him.
“I promised Demeus I would avenge him. I want to make my father proud, but this is such a big decision. A young man like me can’t possibly defeat this Trymissius alone, not to mention rule a kingdom.” Themeus said.
“Themeus, you have a whole world behind you. Men and Women everywhere wait for the throne of Plastil to be filled, they will pledge their allegiance to anyone who is the rightful king,” Rugen assured him, holding the gleaming sword in front of Themeus. “We are with you,” He said. “Always remember that Baitamius and I will never let you down.”
There was a long pause between Rugen and Themeus. Themeus glanced at Baitamius, sitting in the corner, and then back at Rugen. He stared out an open window, the morning sun just awakening. Slowly reaching for the hilt of the sword, he paused midway. Sighing deeply, he took the hilt, and pulled the magnificent sword from its sheath.
“This is a nice blade, its light,” Themeus said, examining the sword.
“It was forged by the elves, the finest gold and silver this world has ever known,” Rugen said.
“Demetrian left this for me?” Themeus wondered.
“This was King Demetrian’s finest weapon he possessed, and now it has a new wielder,” Rugen said.
“There is only one problem,” Themeus said, resting the blade back in its sheath.
“What is that?” Rugen asked.
“I am not very skilled with a blade,” Themeus said.
“That is why Baitamius is here,” Rugen said as he gestured to Baitamius. “Baitamius has journeyed all the way from Plastil to train you. He is an excellent swordsman and archer.”
“I’m a fairly decent archer,” Baitamius said modestly. Beginning to move towards the door, he remembered, “I almost forgot: if you are to learn archery, you had best do it with your own bow.”
He pulled out a long object, concealed under a black covering. Unveiling the cover, a bow, fifteen feet in length, was revealed. The bow was carefully smoothed and finished. Dark brown coated the weapon, and a sturdy string completed the magnificent work. Grasping the bow, and examining it horizontally in both hands, he noticed a bright green embodiment. The symbol was small, but still seen by the naked eye. Running his fingers along an open sphere encircling a leaf, Themeus gazed in amazement.
“That bow was made by the elves long ago for your father. I managed to retrieve it after the great battle,” Baitamius explained. “That crest is the elvish symbol of peace,” Baitamius said. “for you my king.”
Bowing Slightly, Baitamius outstretched the bow in his arms.
“This bow is light, but sturdy.” Themeus concluded.
Baitamius retrieved his bow from inside his cloak, resting it on his right shoulder. “Let us begin your training,” Baitamius said. Both agreeing with him, Themeus and Rugen went outside.
“Do you have any experience with archery?” Baitamius asked.
“Some,” Themeus replied.
“Well, let’s see then. Hit the target over there.” Baitamius commanded, pointing at a distant target across the field.
Retrieving an arrow from his quiver, Themeus succeeded at shooting his first target, his arrow passing Baitamius like a bullet.
“Very good.” Baitamius said, looking impressed. “Now hit two bull’s-eyes,” he said. Themeus this time took two arrows from his quiver and shot, quickly striking both target.
“Themeus, let me show you something,” Baitamius said, walking towards him. “When you shoot a bow, have your eyes fixed upon your target. Pretend nothing else exists. Believe in yourself, and relax. Watch me,” Baitamius said, pulling out two arrows from his quiver. “I have my feet planted. The easiest way to shoot more than one arrow is to turn your bow horizontally. I’m relaxed, and I fire,” He said as he shot and hit the two bulls-eyes. He nodded to Themeus to try again. Themeus placed two arrows on the string of his bow, and concentrated on the targets. His mind became completely blank of everything, pulling back his bow, he fired.
Baitamius smiled, “Good job, Themeus. You’re getting the hang of this.”
“I think I am,” Themeus said.
“Are you ready for horseback?” Baitamius asked as he went to the stable.
“I was born ready,” Themeus said confidently. Baitamius brought a horse from the stables to Themeus’s side.
“Hit that target,” Baitamius commanded.
“That’s easy,” Themeus said convinced. Mounting his stallion, he gripped the reins, riding towards the target. As Themeus prepared to fire, Rugen shot a diminutive spark from his staff, knocking the target over. Already released, the arrow flew into the forest.
“What was that?” Themeus said, riding toward Baitamius.
“In battle, the enemy is going to be moving while you’re on a horse. It may move closer of further away from you, depending on your whereabouts,” Baitamius explained.
“Well, tell me when you are going to do that,” Themeus said.
“It’s unpredictable,” Baitamius said. “Do it again.”
Themeus rode up to the target predicting what Rugen would do. Again, Rugen shot a small spark to knock over the target. Themeus was not thrown off guard; he took an arrow from behind his back, preparing to fire. As the target toppled over, Themeus moved his bow to its side, releasing the arrow and striking the bull’s-eye.
“Nice job, Themeus!” Baitamius said. “One more time.”
Kicking his mare, Themeus once again rode toward the target. Once again, Rugen shot a spark from his staff, but the target moved the other way. Noticed this, Themeus angled his bow, and struck the bulls-eye.
“Well done!” Baitamius shouted. “You need a rest.”
Themeus gave a sigh of relief, dismounted his stallion, and sat down on the top of a nearby well. Baitamius walked towards Themeus glaring.
“I said the horse needs a rest.” Baitamius said, tossing Themeus his sword. Themeus stood up and caught it in disgust, while Baitamius quickly drew his sword, and lunged at Themeus. Themeus ducked and held his sword in the air to block Baitamius’s move.
“You need to work,” Baitamius said, looking at Themeus. Baitamius swung his sword at the resting Themeus, who quickly stood up and blocked Baitamius’s blade instantly. Baitamius took out another blade from his side, swinging it at Themeus.
“You’ve got a natural talent for this; you deflected my attack-although that may be because I’m not trying,” Baitamius said, swinging his sword rapidly at Themeus. Themeus was caught off guard for a moment, finding himself lying on the ground, staring at the tip of Baitamius’s blade. Themeus smiled and quickly retrieved his footing
“One thing you have to remember about this is never to attack in anger. Let the energy flow from you. If you attack in anger, lashing out without thinking, a skillful warrior will not be merciful,” Baitamius explained, “I think that is enough for today.”
“Good job, Themeus,” Rugen said, observing his performance. Reeling in a bucket from the well, Themeus quenched his thirst.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired. Honestly where is all that farm work?” Baitamius wondered as Themeus laughed.
“Hey, Baitamius,” Themeus said, sitting back down on the well’s edge, drinking.
“Yes,” Baitamius answered.
“What was it like in the great battle long ago?” Themeus asked, sitting down beside him.
“It was horrible, like a nightmare, only worse. It raged on for weeks, but we got through it. Lots of men lost their lives, both infantry and cavalry.” Baitamius explained.
“Tell me about my father.” Themeus asked.
“He was a great king and warrior. Plastil prospered during his rein,” Baitamius replied.
“Do you think I will have the same fate?” Themeus asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” Baitamius said. “today we are better ready, and equipped to take on Trymissius with full force.”
“Do you think he will watch over me?” Themeus asked.
“The dead never seem to leave us, always remember that. They are always watching over us, and they assist us when we call upon them,” Baitamius replied.
* * * * *
Walking up to a large figure, Trymissius paused on the dark and musty plains of Mas Morth.
“Master Trymissius,” Heládran said, bowing reverently.
“My warrior, the new heir of Plastil resides on a farm, to the west of here. Bring him to me alive,” Trymissius commanded.
Heládran smiled and rode off with his warriors, into the night sky they galloped toward the farm, where Themeus lay asleep.
* * * * *
“Let us leave for Plastil first thing in the morning. It is a long journey,” Rugen said, standing on his doorstep.
“I agree,” Baitamius said.
“Themeus will make a great warrior, like his father,” Rugen said.
“I think so too. He will not let us down,” Baitamius said.
About to talk, Rugen beckoned Baitamius to be silent. They heard the distant sound of clashing hooves.
“What is that?” Rugen wondered.
“I do not know,” Baitamius said, the sound growing louder.
Just as Baitamius squinted into the distance, three arrows struck the house, just above Baitamius’s head. “What the heck?”
Baitamius saw burning flames in the distant dark, and what appeared to be horses. The rumbling drew nearer, and Baitamius and Rugen realized.
“Go get Themeus!” Rugen told Baitamius hastily. Baitamius ran upstairs, arriving at Themeus’s room.
“Themeus get up, and come downstairs!” Baitamius rushed, as Themeus quickly got out of bed. “Grab your sword and bow! Quickly!”
Arriving downstairs, Themeus asked, “What is going on?”
“Are you ready for your first battle?” Rugen asked.
“What?” Themeus wondered.
Flying through an open wooden window above the door, a black arrow struck the opposite wall. Baitamius immediately drew his bow, firing an arrow back.
“Looks like we have company,” Baitamius said.
“Trymissius’s army,” Rugen clarified. He raised his staff, quickly slamming it back on the ground. He heard a rumble, then noticed a portion of the enemies spring up in the air by an invisible force. Rugen quickly opened the door to the house, running in to defend the structure.
The galloping became clear to Themeus as they neared. He and Baitamius both readied their bows, aimed for the open window, and fired into the night sky. Running towards either side of the door, they backed against the wall, swords in hand. Rugen stood in the center of the room, pointing his staff at the door.
Galloping centaurs neared the farm. Breaking wood, clashing hooves, and metal sounded at the doorway. The door was being struck, each second, the sounds of hungry warriors bantered wood. Flying through the air, a portion of the door broke off. Galloping eagerly, several centaurs burst into the room.
Rugen immediately flew into battle, quickly stabbing a centaur in the chest. Baitamius and Themeus both fought alongside each other, killing ruthlessly. Decapitating an enemy, Themeus kicked him aside, followed by stabbing another in the chest. Enemy Centaurs poured in by the minute, overwhelming the house.
Entering the room, a large centaur held two uneven daggers in either hand. His dark brown eyes gazed from a bald head. A sturdy chin sat above a short, fat neck, and tattoos swarmed long, muscular arms. This creature had boney hands and long, dirty fingers. Throwing a blazing torch at the back wall, he gave a sinister smile.
“Themeus, Baitamius! Their is no use in staying here, the fire will spread quickly and violently, get the horses and lets get out of here,” Rugen said, fighting off centaurs. Nearing the stable, a centaur leapt in front of them, knocking Rugen’s staff on the ground. Raising his sword, the centaur forced his blade down upon the wizard. Countering the blow, Themeus struck the centaur’s blade with his own. Drawing a dagger from his back, the centaur cut Themeus along the chest. Themeus attempted to contain his pain as best he could, yelling softly. Swinging at the centaurs front hoof, Baitamius’s sword made contact, as the enemy galloped away.
“Themeus are you alright?” Baitamius asked.
“I’m fine.” Themeus responded, saddling up his horse.
The farm blazed vividly behind Themeus, Baitamius, and Rugen, as they urged their stallions into the wilderness.
“Looks like we have no choice but to move forward,” Rugen said. “We ride to Plastil.”
