The Blackstar Legacy - Chapter 3

They spent the rest of the day retracing their steps back to the sage’s glade. Even with Jasper’s proclamation, the mood had turned somewhat darker, if that was possible, as the fullness of their task became apparent. Rowan and Jasper spent most of the walk describing what they would face when they reached The Claws.

Osric had seen it, seen the images of what the place looked like and felt the hate from the place in the vision the gods had given him, but Talia and Grace had no idea what they were in store for. The descriptions were enough to give even Grace pause, and had affected the mood of all of them.

With the search for the temple, they’d been blind, groping about in the dark, never knowing what they were looking for or how they would end up. Osric wasn’t sure if he didn’t just prefer that more. This time, knowing exactly the kind of obstacles ahead of them, he had time to think about it. To worry.

That wasn’t the only thing on Osric’s mind. The dangers of The Claws, the vision of what had happened to the Blackstar and how it had shattered, that all made sense. It was where the Veilguard had always been leading them, in a way.

The vision of Jasper was something altogether different. For one, it hadn’t come from the entire Veilguard, that much was clear. For another, it was hard for Osric to see how it was connected to their quest. It felt more personal than that.

But was it a warning? A clue of something? Only one person knew the answer to that.

They’d decided to spend the night in the safety of the Sage’s grove one last time before they headed out of Avendell and back into the world that had tried so hard to kill them the last time. It had been a long day, for Osric as much as any of them, but he found it difficult to fall asleep.

Finally, he gave up and made his way toward the few small huts built for the druids who did not want to live inside the massive trees, one of which they had given to Jasper for his use. Osric wasn’t jealous about it, since he liked the tree, but it was a good sign of what the Sage and other humans living in the forest thought of him.

Osric raised his hand to knock on the wooden door of Jasper’s hut, hesitating for a moment. The small building stood quiet, its lantern extinguished. He glanced back toward the tree-dwelling he was supposed to be sleeping in, wondering if he should just go back and drop it. But he couldn’t. He’d tried and all it did was make him restless.

The choice was made when his knuckles lightly rapped the surface, almost of their own. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Jasper with a faintly curious expression. His robes, usually pristine, were slightly rumpled, and his graying hair seemed even more disheveled than usual.

“Osric?” Jasper’s voice held a hint of surprise. “I thought you’d be resting or making plans for tomorrow.”

Osric gave a half-smile. “I should be, but something’s been on my mind. I wanted to talk to you.”

Jasper studied him for a moment, then stepped aside. “Come in.”

The interior of the hut was sparse but comfortable. A modest cot occupied one corner, a table covered in neatly arranged scrolls and a lit candle stood near the center, and a worn leather bag hung on the wall. Jasper motioned to a chair as he moved to his own seat near the table.

“The vision I had at the pond... there was more than just the Nexus and the Blackstar.”

“Something about me.”

It wasn’t a question. Jasper was smart, and had worked out that Osric being here meant something.

“Yes. There was... something else. I didn’t want to bring it up in front of the others.”

“What exactly did you see?”

“What I saw, it was... it felt different from the other visions. Like it was meant for me to see, but not to scare me. This wasn’t like the visions I’ve had before. It felt like someone was trying to warn me. Or maybe warn you. I believe it came from Heathus.”

“You could tell which god spoke to you?”

“Sort of. I can’t see them, or hear them, but the feeling that comes with their visions changes. Some burned with anger, others felt like gentle guidance. A few seemed uncertain, like they were testing waters. From what you’ve told us of Heathus, his care for family, his protectiveness. It felt like that.”

“How can you be certain? Dark forces could plant false visions to divide us.”

“It wasn’t that. I felt that darkness in the temple and this felt nothing like that.”

“But what did you actually see?”

“A young girl with blonde hair. She was with a younger version of you, somewhere I didn’t recognize. She clearly admired you. Then I saw her again, a little older version of her. A little taller. She was afraid, not of you, but something else. You both were looking at something in the distance, and you seemed worried too.”

He knew what Osric was talking about, that much was clear. Osric could see it in his eyes. Not just his eyes. Jasper’s fingers traced the worn edges of a bracelet Osric had noticed on him before, but hadn’t really thought of until now. Though he tried to hide it, there was also pain on his face. Something so deep it was almost physical.

Jasper sat back, his hand still, touching the bracelet, but when he spoke, he managed to keep it out of his voice. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Osric didn’t reply at first. He just stared at Jasper, studying his face. His eyes.

“Why’d you just lie to me?”

Jasper froze, his hand stilling over the worn leather. For a moment, it seemed he might say something, but the words didn’t come.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Osric pressed. “I get it, you don’t want to talk about it. Whatever happened, whoever she is, it’s clearly something that hurts you. But this wasn’t some random vision. Your god wanted me to see it. That has to mean it’s important.”

“I... can’t talk about it. Not right now.”

Osric studied him again, and then sighed. “Alright. I’m not going to pry, and I won’t tell the others if you don’t want me to. But if it becomes important, if it puts them, or this mission, in danger, then you need to say something. And if you don’t, I will.”

The words hung between them for a long moment. Jasper’s expression softened, his hand dropping to his lap.

“I will,” he said.

Osric wasn’t a counselor or a reader of people. He was a blacksmith’s apprentice, but even he could hear the regret in Jasper’s voice.

Osric nodded, rising from his seat. “Good.”

“Osric,” Jasper called, just as Osric reached for the latch do the door.

Osric paused, glancing back. Jaspe was looking at him, but also into the distants, as if he were looking through the walls of the hut.

“Whatever happened with that girl ... I made the choices I thought were right at the time.”

“I hope so,” Osric said. “I really do.”

With that, Osric stepped out into the night, closing the door behind himself, leaving Jasper to his secrets.

***

It took the better part of a day to get out of Avendell and back into the Great Forest. Instead of heading north through the forest, they decided to head straight west and catch the great road north to the Claws.

Although they’d been in Avendell for over a month, the last time they’d been in the forest, it had been crawling with brethren looking for Osric and the ring. Of course, things might have changed now that they’d taken both parts of the document, but Rowan felt it safer to be out of the forest, just in case.

The Greenwood portion of the road was patrolled by the Farvale Guard in the south and the Greenwood Levy in the north and widely known to be one of the safest sections of the road that circled the lake and central island that was the heart of the Kingdom of Aeloria.

It still took days to get through the forest to the road, and thankfully they’d avoided any run-ins with the brethren along the way. Osric hoped that meant they’d given up after so much time and had gone home.

He also knew how unlikely that was.

The sun was just setting over the horizon, and dusk had fallen, turning everything into a deep blue when they finally broke through the treeline.

And then they froze. Osric and Rowan were taking the lead, and both pulled up short as the road came into view. Even at night, the great road got a lot of traffic. Merchants and guardsmen, travelers and farmers would be coming and going.

What wasn’t expected was an elderly man, two women, and a handful of children surrounded by ten men in leather armor, brandishing clubs and short swords.

They hadn’t heard anything before coming out of the forest, which wasn’t unusual. The treeline had a way of absorbing all but the loudest sounds. Now that they were in the open, however, Osric could hear them clearly.

“…toll or we’ll take it out of your hides. Or do you…”

They stopped mid-sentence as Osric and his group came into view.

“What’s this?” Rowan said.

Their expression changed when they looked at Rowan and took in the clasp holding his cloak closed. The symbol of the Greenwood Rangers.

“Ranger,” one of the bandits said, disgust in his voice.

“Walk away now,” Rowan replied, as cold as Osric had ever heard him.

“You’re all by yourself, Ranger. None of your ranger friends here, just a kid, an old man, and a couple of girls. There are six of us. You rangers are finished. Done for.”

“You heard him. Walk away!” Osric said, pulling his sword.

“Look Dorun, the kid thinks he’s a man,” one of the other brigands said.

They were ignoring the travelers now, who were still frozen in place, like if they didn’t draw attention to themselves, maybe the men would forget they were there.

The only thing that gave them a moment’s pause was Cinder coming up next to Osric, baring his fangs and growling. They were committed now, though. Not even a wolf appearing out of the forest and joining their targets could dissuade them now. Osric had been in a lot of fights in the last month and a half, enough to know they weren’t backing down. Not now.

Talia and Grace fanned out, Talia so she had a clear line of sight for her weaving and Grace for … whatever it is Grace would end up doing.

Osric and his friends might not be the ones to make the first move, but they weren’t going to let the bandits draw first blood. As soon as they began to move toward his group, they sprang into action.

As always, Cinder was the first to react, his growl turning into a snarl as he lunged forward, a blur of muscle and dark fur. The closest bandit barely had time to react before the wolf’s powerful jaws clamped down on his arm. The man cried out, the sickening crunch of bone audible even over the commotion. Cinder pulled him down to the ground hard, smashing into the worn cobblestones.

Grace, always fast, wasn’t far behind him. The bandit she got in close to swung clumsily. She sidestepped it easily, her short sword flashing in under his blade, piercing his side. The man let out a strangled cry, pulling himself off the sword and stumbling back, to put room between himself and the nimble thief.

He didn’t make it far as an arrow came streaking in, over Grace’s head. The first one smashed high in his chest, the impact causing him to stumble back another step and drop his sword. He might have still survived it if Rowan hadn’t sent a second arrow thumped into the man barely a finger’s width from the first.

The bandit looked shocked as he crumbled to the ground, as if his last thoughts were of disbelief that his life had ended so quickly.

The rest of the bandits hesitated, glancing between their fallen companions and their still-standing leader. They’d clearly not been prepared for this, expecting unarmed women and children.

The man named Dorun sneered and said, “What are you doing? Kill them!”

The bandits surged forward, whatever coordination they had forgotten. The bandit Cinder had pulled down managed to get his arm free and scrambled to his feet, but Cinder wasn’t finished with him, managing to bite into the man’s shoulder, his sharp fangs punching through the leather and flesh as he tried to get up.

Only a wild swing of his sword forced Cinder back, giving the bandit a chance to stagger backward, away from the animal.

Another man, seeing Grace focused on his now dead comrade, swung his cudgel at her. Something alerted her to the danger because she managed to dodge backward at the last moment, avoiding the full brunt of the weapon, only being clipped in her off arm. 

Grace and Cinder had been the only ones to move into their range, forcing the other bandits to charge forward to meet the rest. Osric had learned from dashing in too early and leaving his friends exposed when Talia had been badly injured in Farvale.

This time, he kept himself between Talia and Jasper and the enemies, knowing that they could hit the enemy from a distance, but were safer if the enemy could not get to them.

Rowan too, although Rowan had proven that he could defend himself and didn’t need Osric.

The bandit nearest Osric lunged forward. A month ago, Osric would have probably been hit with the attack or forced back, but the training with Rowan had paid off, as he brought his sword up to intercept it, blocking and deflecting the swing.

Another bandit moved past Osric just out of his reach, had he not already been engaged with his friend, making a run for his own. The man’s charge was wild and Rowan dropped, rolling out of his way and yet somehow not losing his footing. Worse, the man’s sword sunk into a tree Rowan had been standing near, costing the man any follow-up.

They weren’t done yet, another bandit coming in on the heels of the first he’d intercepted. Osric couldn’t get his sword back in time, but he’d trained for this too. Osric dropped his shoulder, allowing what had been planned as a low swing to smack into his pauldron and deflect down into the cobblestones. Osric brought his arm up, swiping an elbow at him. Not able to actually hurt anyone, but enough to force the man back, giving Osric a little breathing room.

“Heathus, grant us strength,” Jasper called out, holding the amulet around his neck.

Light streamed in from between his fingers, and Osric could feel something, a warmth or strength entering him as Jasper brought Heathus’s blessing on them.

Osric pushed the blade he’d blocked, forcing the man to lose balance slightly, and pulled the blade back hard, the sword slashing down, across the man’s midsection, catching flesh and eliciting a cry of pain.

Their leader, the man called Dorun, came in at Osric as well, seeing him as an obstacle between his men and the ranged combatants. Osric had gotten his sword free and was able to pivot back now that the man he’d parried and then injured had been forced back.

Osric barely managed to deflect the blow as Dorun swung down with massive force, the impact making his arm strain, but not causing him to stumble or lose his stepping.

To Osric’s left, two more men tried to get at Grace. She’d moved too far forward and was in the midst of several of them. She twisted away from the first attacker’s blade and then rolled away from the second. It was hard to follow, how fast she moved and quickly she managed to change direction.

Feats that Osric could never manage, let alone get back to his feet the way she did, ready to fight again.

All of that happened almost simultaneously, in an instant, as Talia’s hands were moving behind him, twisting and turning in their delicate pattern. Finally, she finished, her hands thrusting forward, sending three of the shimmering shards out of them, streaking past Osric and smacking hard into Dorun’s chest, each hit causing him to stagger backward.

“A mage,” Dorun said in warning to his friends.

In spite of what was happening to the veil, magic was a rare thing for the average person to see, and was wildly feared. Which is why, at his warning, several of Dorun’s men turned to start making their way toward Talia, having identified her as the biggest threat.

Not that Osric and his friends were going to make it easy for them. Rowan had already knocked an arrow again. An arrow flashed past Osric to one of the men trying to get around him to Talia, smacking into the man’s shoulder, punching through his leather armor. The man staggered and tried to recover, until a second arrow found its mark, punching through the man’s throat.

He gripped at the shaft, gurgling, as he fell.

Cinder wasn’t far behind. Another bandit tried to get past the wolf, making his move for Talia. Cinder ignored the man he’d been trying to take down, as another bandit tried to slip between him and Osric, whipping around and clamping down on the man’s ankle. He only got a piece of it, ripping flesh but not latching on tightly, only causing the man to stumble, but not dragging him to the ground as the animal would have wanted.

Osric wanted to join them, moving to block her from danger again, but of all the men facing them, Dorun was clearly the most dangerous. Osric parried him, and then parried again as Dorun pressed him. The third parry put Osric’s sword on the inside of the bandit, allowing him to slash back diagonally. Not a strong swing, but the tip cut in under the man’s leather chest piece. A shallow wound, but it caused the bandit to wince and favor his other side.

Grace fared better. Surrounded by three men, she danced among her attackers, pivoting past a swing of a cudgel and then a swipe with a sword, catching one man in the hip and the other in the shoulder. Neither hit was deep or fatal, but both caused injury as she kept all three off balance.

Her luck only held out so long as the third managed to catch her with his club against the back, sending Grace stumbling forward, off balance. She managed to recover before his friends could take advantage, but from Osric’s position, it looked as if she was moving slower, hurt by the hard impact.

Rowan was also struggling now, trying to fire his bow, a shield for his allies, while still retreating and trying to avoid the man trying to kill him. He’d managed to dodge out of the way twice, but the third time the blade found its mark, a deep wound on Rowan’s off arm.

For a moment, Osric worried they’d bitten off more than they could chew, outnumbered as they were.

Jasper saw it, however, and moved around Osric to support Grace, who was being pressed hard, putting herself in danger. The bandits hadn’t expected him, his mace catching one of the men in the back, returning the favor for the hit made on Grace.

It didn’t take him down, but it was a new threat they had to adjust to, taking pressure off of Grace.

Talia, bless her, managed to ignore all of the men trying hard to get past Osric and Cinder, her face scrunched in concentration as her hands moved, tracing intricate patterns. As she finished, golden energy coalesced around her fingertips before radiating outward, touching each of her companions.

Again, Osric felt energy entering him, although different than the blessings Jasper had called down on them. He felt his muscles working harder, his movements faster as she pushed the energies of the veil into them.

Rowan’s next two arrows came in faster, Talia’s magic affecting him in the same way. Another bandit tried to get around Osric, being hit twice. Neither shot was fatal, but the man was struggling as the shafts inhibited his movements. Each attempt to attack pulled on them, causing him to grimace in pain.

Cinder made another attempt at the bandit he’d missed latching onto the first time, gripping onto the man’s other leg. This time, he firmly clamped down on his leg and pulled back hard, yanking him to the ground as he dragged the man back, away from Talia.

The man slashed at Cinder, forcing him to let go, but Cinder seemed ready for it this time. As the bandit tried to push himself off the ground, Cinder leapt forward, his powerful jaws clamping over the man’s throat. When the wolf yanked his head back this time, the throat came with him, ending the man’s life.

With Jasper helping her now, Grace managed to put a little distance between herself and some of her attackers, giving her a chance to dart in for another attack. She made two quick slashes into either side of the man. Not fatal, but the more they were cut, the slower they moved, and the easier it was to dodge.

As if to prove that, the man tried to retaliate, his clumsy strike missing Grace entirely.

Dorun took a step back to give himself some room and took another powerful downward strike. One of the things Rowan had pushed into Osric again and again was that meeting power with power was not always the best option. That sometimes, it was better to give way to the power, let it flow past you. So Osric didn’t parry it.

Instead, he sidestepped, using his blade to just guide the strike down and away from him, and leaving his weapon inside the bandit’s guard before lurching forward, pushing the blade deep into the man’s chest, punching through Dorun’s chest piece. The man’s eyes went wide, as if he couldn’t believe this boy had just killed him.

The shout of pain he gave, however, was enough to distract Grace, who looked to Osric, uncharacteristically concerned, opening herself to being cut by one of the bandits. She did manage to get out of the way just in time to keep it from being fatal, but the blade still drew a dark red slash across her leg.

It could have been worse. The third bandit also tried to make a play for Grace during her moment’s distraction but was intercepted by Jasper. His mace caught the blade and almost ripped.

With their leader down and most of their friends now dead, the remaining five bandits clearly wanted to run, extracting themselves from the fight.

The only man still near Osric tried a final, desperate lunge to get to Talia, still hampered by the arrows protruding from him, but unwilling to back away and leave Talia a chance to kill him.

Osric intercepted him easily, deflecting the wild thrust and responding with a precise cut that opened the bandit’s sword arm from wrist to elbow. The man dropped his weapon with a cry of pain, stumbling backward.

Behind him, Grace had recovered her footing. Despite her injury, she was still able to dodge between the two remaining attackers not distracted by Jasper. As one swung high, she ducked under the blade and drove her short sword up into his armpit, cutting vein and tendon, his weapon dropping from his hands.

He was out of the fight and, judging by the amount of blood pouring down his side, would be dead in a moment. Grace turned her attention to the other man, rolling out of the way of a blow that would have smashed her face in, but instead crashed harmlessly into the paving stones.

As she came up, her sword darted out, sliding under his chest piece and into his body. The man went rigid as organs were pierced, clutching at his side as he tried to pull himself free of her weapon, only to fall dead to the ground a step after.

The third tried to turn and run, but his timing was poor, lowering his guard for the escape just as Jasper’s mace was sailing in, trying to force him back, away from Grace.

The hard metal end of Jasper’s mace caught the back of the man’s head without any obstacle, cracking his skull open and sending him tumbling to the ground, his body sprawling.

With everyone else gone, Rowan finally allowed himself to deal with the man who had been chasing him across the battle area, trying unsuccessfully to stop Rowan from shooting any more arrows.

Rowan didn’t bother shooting this time. Instead, after dodging another wild slash, Rowan stabbed forward with the arrow still in his hand, unknocked, punching it through the man’s throat.

The battle had lasted less than a minute, a sprint of violence and gore, but it was done now. All of the bandits were down, dead or dying on the road they’d hoped to exploit for their game.

As Cinder began sniffing around the bodies, maybe to determine if any were still a threat, and Grace began her normal looting of the dead, Osric stepped over his fallen opponents and to the terrified travelers.

“It’s okay, we aren’t going to harm you. Is everyone okay?”

The children looked too stunned to speak, but the elderly man said, “We owe you our lives. Those men would have killed us all.”

“We were happy to help. People like that shouldn’t prey on people.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t stay here,” Jasper said. “The bodies will draw scavengers, and it’s an ill thing to linger near the recent dead.”

“A point. It’s almost dark, and we were going to camp soon. We were headed north, but we could go south with you a bit and camp with you for the night, to make sure you can continue your journey safely in the morning,” Osric offered.

“That would be very kind of you,” the man said.

“Let’s go. Grace, leave them be.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the thief said, pulling something off one of the dead men before following behind the rest of the group, apparently finding everything of value.

Osric did not begrudge her taking from men who would have so easily taken from others, he just wished she was a little less brazen about it.