Have fun!!!!!
L
Beneath the ever cold stars the forest seemed to have a life of its own. Covered she was by the silvery dust of snow, buried in the silence of the blue winter night yet listening to the whispers of the dim moonlight. Old, tall trees were holding out their curling icy branches to shape the crystal prison wall behind them, glass flowers slept pale shinning on their frozen dead leaves while their lifeless trunks were dreaming of the marry floating waterways that once used to glance at. No echoes of wind, no howling of wolfs, no sound of wild beast disturbed the endless slumber where silence learned to listen to its own stories.
Snowflakes, cold phantasms of white flowers in the late spring were sifting from the huge cherry tree of heavens. Soft and cold, they floated like sails on the large sea along the stretched mountain path in front of two weary travellers. They moved slowly, searching carefully the road to follow, struggling hard against the winter spell that tried to ensnare them eternally within its realm. They fought to resist, wrapped in their long hooded mantels, keeping close to each other, trying not to slip over the edges of deep abysses which were casting their colossal open mouths hungry for the next pray. They descended the frosty slopes, passing still, near the sharp, white edges of the cliffs, faithfully following the way that coiled as a serpent around the frozen caves and marbled waterfalls. Quiet, fearing of disturbing the peace of the lands, frightened of what the forest may hide in its silvery secrets, both kept the heads bent to the slippery ground.
They were coming a long way from the south heading for the North Cape Mountains and only the forest separated them from the stony shore of the big Sea.
The two went down, walking along the path till the road broaden its course and change a little to the west, leaving behind, a straight, cut queue sewed with sharp ice cons on its both sides, standing unmoved, petrified soldiers guarding the entrance to a gigantic hall of a frost wintry stronghold. The road turned left again making a small detour through the trees, and then right, going forward till the brim of the forest. Few small plants, almost covered with snow, sparkled with white diamonds under the full moon bitter light. The travellers’ caught the desperate cry of a seagull and the flash of a distant beam rested for an instant in their weary eyes.
The hamlet was near, and their feet moved almost as in a deep trance out of the desert of winter searching a refuge of life against the dead pale calm of the snow. They approached the massive wooden gate and felt on their hands the metal chill of the iron ring whose rusty weep called for the old gateman, asleep in its timber brown tower.
“Who comes there...and…what are you lookin’ for in this forgotten place?” sounded a grouse voice followed by a wrinkled face with searching curious eyes scouting the two hooded strangers.
“Good people are we…. that come from beyond the great mountains and stars that faint in the morning and breeze that strike in the evening guided us here. Please let in two tired travellers that came to know the wonders and the perils of the earth left behind…”
With a long creak on the snow the gate opened slowly making place for the two in the not so large courtyard sprinkled with small dwellings - most of them not higher than one room -, built close to the ground. The inn was not too far away, but on the left path behind the third house on the upper side of the sidewalk. Cosy warmth welcomed them inside while the strong smell of ale in the thick air was striking their pallid faces. A weak light of some worn-out torches was spreading yellow beams over the whole soiled place, cobwebs were lying in the corners of the room where few old wooden dirty tables were bearing the weight of a couple of drunkards. Opaque, little windows were hidden under the cover of scrappy long rags that once were red, now almost grey of age and long time hanging. Dusty paintings of sinking ships and badly drawn sea creatures were lying slanting on the screeched walls…
The squeak of the door waked the innkeeper from its doze. He jumped from his chair dazing at the strangers beneath his bushy eyebrows. Amazed, he stood there like a stoned shape of a small, chunky middle-aged man. A grey cat sprung out behind his back, but stopped suddenly next to its master.
“This is the sort of welcoming thou offer in thy house? No wonder that nobody crosses its gates” spoke a firm young woman voice, beneath the hood. “We wish to spend the night hither, we are weary form the road, yet we come from afar in your humble dwelling, sure thou will not decline the rightly demand of two folks that pay you well”… a piece of gold flew in the air…, “ for thy silence and thy hospitality”.
“Your wishes are my laws, my masters. I’ll bring the food…”
The two took out their mantels. They were two elves, adventurers of some sort, possibly in search of lost treasures, judging from the travelling outfit. One of them had a long, thin scar above his eyebrow, he was wearing a long robe and a staff with coiled edges that shown white under its hands; the other, she was more like a rogue, a short knife was hanging on the left side of her belt, hidden in a brown leather sheath. They talked; whispering for a while words about sailors and hope that doomed them to their end…
Two long days have passed as the strangers become known by the folk of the village as two adventurers asking fro and forth about the abandoned lighthouse on the east. “It never worked properly” said one man at the bay, “No light was ever shining inside” the wife of another fisherman told them, “No ships are coming out from the big sea to our lands anymore, the legends of the ones that broke near the shore hunt them all away” said sadly another, “Is nothing more than an abandoned old tower from the days of old” believed an youngster, “What is to be in there, they searched it all already?” questioned an old beggar.
The strangers didn’t answer, and in the evening of the third day they headed for the shores, alone, unseen, hidden in the shadow of the cold icy wind. The sea was rebelling against the lands breaking its blue-darken curls of waves in angry outburst of white foam against the stony bay. They walked across the path that led them to the slope behind the village then followed the east road backwards to the coast. In front of them the old lighthouse was rising tall, as a presence of an old day legend. The door was broken from a long time and wooden stairs were creaking under the swift steps of the two. They climbed in spirals the stretched corridor, dark and wet leaning on the salty walls, till they reached the uppermost chamber of the tower.
“Here it should be…”.said the rogue, carefully exploring the room. “Go where the sailor hope brings its doom, touch the sea with fire of thy hands and thy way will open…”mumbled the mage… The chamber was small; three mirrors were engraved in the walls while a great window was facing the sea. No table, no chair, no other thing was inside. They searched the stony walls but there was noting, they stood inflexible like the foundations of strong mountain. Only the rage of angry water outside could be heard ...”Yet…the room is too small…it must have been something…”reply the rogue in an end. The seeking continued until the stars spread their pale white faces in the waters. The mirror on the left wall caught suddenly the glimpse of a wave lightened by a moon ray. It stood for an instant, blue as the echo of the clear river stream…”The mirror…” and without saying any other word the mage grabbed the torch from his companion hand. He drew it near and touched the mirror with its flame right on the instant the wave shadow was fading. A deep clatter was heard and a small trap was opened at their feet. They moved down warily descending on the secret side of the lighthouse on white marble stairs, until they entered a large long passage, carved under the sea, lit by petrified flowers of nameless beauty carved by the waters of the world in its beginning and forgotten there at their retreat to the centre of the earth. A diffuse light coming from afar was guiding their steps down to another crystal hall. Transparent columns supported the four high corners of the place. The ceiling was blue, spotted with golden lights like starlit in the summer evening yet reflected on the glass made floor. A tall five winged bird pedestal was holding on its wings five globes, symbols of the forgotten influence of the old Banshee Academy. Five crystals they were which powers were unknown to the world, five crystals that could revive the old order again. The apprentices were hiding them well, but it was this the true time they were to be revealed?
“Those should be returned to their rightful place” said the mage. They were hidden too much in the darkness. Let’s go back, now we can set our hopes again for a new beginning”.
