The Crimson Storm (Ch. 1)

First Chapter of a long adventure story

There lives a tale of a great warrior who never lost hope of regaining his people’s land. It was said that with great hope he rose up to many challenges and defeated many an enemy. It was also told that the people across great distances heard of this warrior and sent one of their druids to go in search of him. Others joined as well. This is the tale.

Chapter One: Peace and Prosperity

A tree that bears its fruit willingly is a tree that will be eternally loved.

     John Luxby

Her name was Celtìca. A druid. Celtìca is a common name in the village of Grömédær, where she grew up and lived the majority of her live at. The name is sometimes accented differently but it is still the same spelling. The name simply means druid. The people of Grömédær lived well and can grow to be beyond giant size by the end of their lives. Their race is called Giants. They are born tiny and grow and grow to be Giants. If they are too tall they are assumed to be dying or near the end of days (though this theory was never supported by facts).  But Celtìca was still a child and had no worries of that as of yet.

Celtìca sought to join the Order of Elders, a Guild for Druids (specifically Giants) known to uphold the honor of peace and prosperity, at an early age but was turned down because of it. She was only six and wished to learn from her father who was an Elder and served there. He served under Umamæn, the wisest Elder known throughout the village.

Her father’s name was Wendell, a simple name. Wendell the Determined was the name given to him by the Order of Elders. All Elders were given a title, such as that, by their respective guild. Umamæn’s title was “the PeaceKeeper”. Umamæn did his best to uphold the belief that peace will last if all remain peaceful. Wendell held that belief as well and passed it down to his daughter.
Celtìca was born on August 4th. It was a windy night when she was born and the Elders were concerned for Wendell’s wife, who was also an Elder. Families of Elders who hold the ideals of peace of prosperity are known to have rich lives but Celtìca’s mother was in pain and agony. The pain outgrew the strength of the mother and Celtìca’s mother died during childbirth. Celtìca always asked about her mother. Lilithia was her name…Lilithia the TaskBringer. She had joined the ranks of Elders at the age of thirteen, the youngest woman accepted into the order…that is until Celtìca joined at the age of twelve. Lilithia was given the task of keeping the Order together. She had done a fantastic job and the Order was never the same after her death.
Celtìca was always pushing her father, at a young age, to teach her the given art of Mölr, an Elder art. Her father said that he couldn’t teach her until she was in the Order. The Elders kept pushing Celtìca out and never letting her in until she was finally accepted and given the title “the Promiser”. It was deemed that when she gave her word it was her solemn oath to abide by it.
Celtìca’s father was so happy to finally teach his daughter the art of Mölr. The art required Celtìca to wield a staff. All Elders…in fact all Druids (whether or not you were a part of the Elder guilds or not) were required to wield a staff. Celtìca was asked to choose a staff that was on the Wall of the Ages, the wall that was behind the Order when they held their meetings.
Celtìca didn’t want any of them. She wanted her mother’s. This puzzled the Elders. There had never been any query like this before. Using an old Elder’s staff was never heard of before. The Elders asked Celtìca to leave so they could decide what to do.
Wendell spoke of how Celtìca never knew her mother and so this was a way to have a part of her. Then he went on to say that he shouldn’t be in the room because of a conflict of interests. He left the room and waited outside. Wendell hovered over Celtìca and she worried that her father was nearing the end of his days. Wendell patted her on the back.
Glomégarian the Second, the co-chair of the Order (named ‘the Second’ for he was the Second Glomégarian to join), came out to get the two of them.
“Come” he spoke in a raspy voice. The three went inside and the large oversized doors closed behind them. Glomégarian the Second returned to his seat.

Umamæn the PeaceKeeper began to address Celtìca. “Dear Celtìca the Promiser, we, the Order of Elders, have come to a decision.” Celtìca waited in anticipation. She looked up at her father and her father back at her. “We can accommodate your request. You may use your mother’s staff.”

A smile grew on Celtìca’s face, and it appeared on her father’s as well, when Celtìca began cheering and jumping for joy. She soon collected herself and thanked the council profusely. The two went back home to grab Lilithia’s staff, now Celtìca’s, and begin training. It was hidden away inside a cupboard that Wendell made especially for it. He was pleased that Celtìca decided to use it. It made him proud, and he thought it would make Celtica’s mother proud too.
Celtìca held the staff in her hand, soon realizing it was way too big (and perhaps doubting herself a bit), yet proud that she could carry on her mother’s work.
“The first move I will show you is the Parry.” Spoke Wendell the Determined. Celtìca had trouble holding such a large staff and soon regretted picking it…but it was her mother’s and besides…she knew she would grow into it.

***

By age 22 Celtìca knew the art of Mölr and much much more. She was proficient in the art and knew the craft by heart. She had grown into her mother’s staff quite well and before she knew it she was on the Supreme Council of Elders. She had moved up quite a lot and was given a different title since joining the new guild at age 16. The Supreme Council thought the Order’s name given to her was a bit childish and was just a way to teach her to not lie. The Supreme Council named her Lady Celtìca the North. She was crowned Lady after defeating many cave dwellers and beasts. The reason for the name ‘the North’ was never really given however. People assumed it was because she was from the northern part of Grömédær. Celtìca was given privileges and a seat on the Supreme Council’s High Chair, the greatest achievement one could ask for. She was still a child in her father’s eyes. Her father, who also moved up in status (Great Wendell the Determined, though not as high as Celtìca’s status,), was so proud of her and kept mentioning how her mother would be so proud.
Autumn grew colder and soon winter came. The village was white with snow and the Supreme Council and the Order were about to depart from their village for the Grand Elder Convention (GEC). There, all the Elders from various regions would gather. They would talk about the news that was happening and see if they could resolve issues that were brewing in the villages below. Celtìca had never gone to the Convention before and was excited to, not only see what it was like, but to see her father for the first time in a long time. The Supreme Council doubted she would be able to though. There were so many guilds of Elders and so many druids in each that they doubted she would be able to find her father amongst the crowd. Celtìca, however, had hope. Celtìca had received the information that the convention would be held inside a lovely, albeit tiny, house inside the Forest of Time.

ǁ<>Forest of Time<>ǁ

The guilds trudged through the thickening snow and the worsening storms in order to get to the forest. Though winter may have been in its Ides, the storms were growing more and more ferocious every day. Besides that, the snow rarely melted or evaporated away making each storm worse as it piled on to the snow. It may have been a treacherous journey but all were there and accounted for. Roll call was taken as everyone entered the house to ensure that everyone had made it.

Celtìca’s eyes glistened as she realized that the house was much larger on the inside than on the outside. She had wondered how hundreds of guilds would fit inside such a tiny house. Celtìca began looking around at all the beautiful things. Celtìca began seeing spirits of Elders rush inside from the cold. Realizing that the spirits of Elders who have passed would be in attendance, Celtìca had hoped to see her mother there, though she did not know what she looked like.

Celtìca then saw all the lovely booths of Staff makers. They were attending the convention trying to sell their various wares. People were in awe over the new designs and the new prices. Cheap and affordable they may be but Celtìca was pleased with her mother’s staff though it was slowly yet sadly dissipating away. The wood was old and the metal rusted. She wouldn’t let go of the staff. It was a part of her.

Everyone gathered and shook hands with everyone else. Everyone was in their robes showing the colors of the various guilds around. Celtìca’s colors were Purple and Green. She loved her robe and knew the symbol well. A tree of life was the symbol of the Supreme Council. It was meant to symbolize friendship and health as well as peace and prosperity. John Luxby, the founder and president of the Supreme Council, made the symbol their logo. John was his human family’s name and he wore it proud. He was half human half giant. It was odd that a Human-Giant was allowed to create a council as they aren’t necessarily liked in the community. They are usually outcasts. Everyone forgave his human half though, and called him HeHeeggby his Giant name Luxby. His title was Luxby the TreeGiver. He gave himself the title, since he was the guild leader. Luxby thought the title he gave himself represented the guild proudly; since his title was what the guild was about…Life and Love. The quote of the guild was “A tree that bears its fruit willingly is a tree that will be eternally loved.” Celtìca loved the motto. She saw it every day when she came to the guild meetings. She loved her post and loved being at the convention too.
Celtìca spotted her father talking to a woman she did not know. She was white. She looked like a spirit, which she was. Celtìca went over to talk to them.
“Ah, my darling…you have aged so gracefully.” Celtìca’s father spoke, not seeing his daughter for a long period of time. It has been a little over five years since he last saw Celtìca and yet he looked at her as though she was always by his side.
“Yes my dear…you have grown very tall over these years.” Spoke the woman, worried about the death that follows being very tall.
“Hello father,” she hugged him tightly, “who is this that I have not been introduced to?” She asked.
“Your mother.” He answered. Tears grew in the corner of Celtìca’s eyes. She jumped at her mother and hugged her profusely. She wouldn’t let go. Yes, she could hug her here in the real world. Spirits possess the properties of live beings. They wouldn’t be able to sit at the convention otherwise. Celtìca still cried in her mother’s arms.
“Yes dear, I am here.” Celtìca let go of her mother. Celtìca looked over her mother. She wore a robe, the colors of which could not be seen due to her spirit aura of white, and her hood was up as well. She just couldn’t believe her mother was there. Once Celtìca let go, her mother saw the staff in her hand.
“My dear, what an old staff that is. Have you not thought of perhaps exchanging it with a different one? They have many new ones this year.”
“No.” Celtìca said. “This is yours and I shall cherish it even past the time it breaks. I shall repair it and use it forever.” Her mother disapproved yet a smile appeared on her face. She was happy to see her daughter have something of hers. Celtìca just resumed hugging her mother.
“Please people!” yelled a low bass voice. It was as if the heavens had spoken. Celtìca looked up and saw a large Ogre, even taller and larger than fifteen Elders put together, sitting in the front looking out to the crowd. “I wish for all of you to be seated. You can all buy new staves later.” Most of the people laughed but Celtìca was wondering what staves were but then soon remembered that that is a form of the plural of staff. She then laughed too and joined the rest in taking seats. She sat with her mother and father…and smiled doing so.

I know [the Ogre spoke] times have been tough this season. The snow keeps coming and doesn’t stop. I know how easy it is for people to become frayed and hopeless at times. The season is not right this year. We all know that a storm has been brewing and that some of us will not survive. But there is still hope. There is a person that has come out of the shadows and we are willing to aide him in the battle for peace and prosperity. He is a human. He has battled fierce competition and won. He is on a quest to get back his people’s land. He may be the only one left of his village but he carries on with pride. Everyone across the land, that isn’t swade by the enemy, is right beside him in doing so. He has the support of many villages and they aide the adventurer whenever he stops by. We too shall aide this warrior in his journey. I ask any volunteers who would stand by his side in this time of terror and war.

As soon as the vibrations from the Ogre’s speech stopped, the crowd started mumbling and talking. However, nobody stood up. Everyone planted their feet on the ground and their buns in their chairs. Nobody wanted to help. They were more than just frayed and hopeless…they were scared.
Celtìca looked at everyone. Spirits, Giants and some humans (not to mention mixes) filled the room. She was wondering why nobody would stand up…so she did the just thing and did it herself.
Gasps filled the room. Celtìca’s father looked around trying to see who stood up and noticed his daughter was the one to do so. Her parents were afraid for her safety at first but they knew she could do it, they believed in her. The Ogre smiled and motioned for Celtìca to step forward. She came up on the stage.
“Thank you youngling. I hope that you do as well as I hope you will.” The Ogre stopped and looked at the staff she sheathed. It was just like the people in the room…frayed and hopeless. “Child, what sort of joke is this?” Asked the Ogre not amused.
“I beg your pardon?” Celtìca said while turning to look up at the Ogre.
“We need to get you a new staff. Vendors!” The Ogre yelled in an even lower register than he had before. All the vendors lined up in a row before Celtìca had a chance to say no. They showed Celtìca what they had to offer. Celtìca didn’t want a new staff but saw the look on her mother’s face. It yelled ‘Buy a new staff!’
Celtìca didn’t like any of the staves for sale. It was more likely that she loved the one her mother had and did not want to part with it. She asked, to all of them, if they could imbue the soul of her mother’s staff into a new one. She wanted to keep her mother with her at all times. The Ogre shed a tear. He realized he had been mean about the staff she sheathed and knew it wrong.
Mumbling and chatter still filled the room. One vendor wheeled out a large cauldron and asked for the staff after lighting the fire. He put the new staff, which Celtìca had chosen, into the pot as well and sprinkled some sort of dust into the cauldron once the two staves were in. Steam began boiling and bubbling out and in two seconds, and a rather large poof later, a shiny new staff was created. It was a magnificent staff that glowed green. It looked as though it was made from a Gûku Tree, a very rare and beautiful tree, and it was. It was a beautiful staff. Celtìca paid the vendor handsomely and went back on stage as the vendors went back to their stalls and the cauldron was rolled away. The people there mumbled and chatted still.
“What is your name Elder?” The Ogre asked. The chattering stopped as everyone focused their attention towards the Ogre and Celtìca.
“Lady Celtìca the North.” She answered.
“Lady Celtìca the North, I hereby bestow upon you the mission of helping the new warrior. It has been rumored that he was spotted in the West Village of Sing and that he traveled south. It is your task to find him and aide him on this mission. You have been trained well in the art of Mölr by now and have mastered it, yes?” She nodded, “then go now and travel!” The crowd cheered, Celtìca looked into her mother’s eyes for the last time and was whisked off, thanks to snow magic. All was left was a pile of snow on stage where Celtìca had been.  

ǁ<>Sing Village<>ǁ

Celtìca was whisked off to Sing Village, east of West Village of Sing. There she could take the southern path and head over to the warrior. Problem was that she knew nothing of what the warrior looked like. She would have a hard journey ahead of her since the snow storms were worsening by the hour. She knew she would have to seek shelter before the day was done.

On she traveled. She lit her path with the thanks of her knew staff. She decided it would probably be better to transform into an animal than risk an animal attacking her.

Druids do transform into animals. The only thing with the Elders is that they have to have met the animal. If they just pick a random image from their mind, the image may get distorted and you may end up scaring people and animals.

She transformed into a cheetah, which she remembered seeing when she was younger. She ran all the way she could. She headed as south as she could, not knowing whether or not she’d ever find this mystery warrior. She tracked down some food and ate it in some caves while she rested. She continued to travel southwest, knowing the warrior was rumored to be there.

It was nearly dinnertime when she decided to take a rest in another cave. She entered inside and spooked what looked like a homeless man. He lunged at her, because she was still a cheetah. Celtìca tried to shapeshift in order to tell the homeless stranger that she was Giant. It didn’t work. She had to fight him off. She wounded the man as little as she could to ward him off.

It was about five minutes into the battle that the homeless man unsheathed a large sword. Celtìca was afraid for her life which, for some reason, made her shapeshift back to her Giant form. The homeless man lunged at her then stopped when she transformed. The man dropped the sword and started to cry. The man then dropped to his knees

“Please forgive me Lãmba of the Sacred Temple.” The man cried out in a dry and parched voice. Celtìca got up and drew her staff out to light the place a bit more.

“It is all right,” spoke Celtìca “I am not harmed badly. I did startle you so I do understand why you attacked.” The man continued to sob and was mumbling some prayer.

“Please forgive me Lãmba of the Sacred temple.” He said again. He then stopped. He got up and went towards Celtìca.

“What are you doing?” Celtìca said, skeptical.

“Will you please forgive me?”

“Yes, it is ok. I did not mean to startle you.”

“Oh, thank Lãmba!” He spoke as he looked to the ceiling. He then began to kiss Celtìca’s hand furiously.

“Why were you in that form in the first place?” Asked the stranger, settling down a bit.

“I am traveling to find a great warrior who I was told to help on a journey. I do not know what he looks like, what the journey is but that is most common among the quests an Elder is given.” Celtìca breathed after she was done boasting. “So I must travel as fast as I can before the storms worsen, which they will. The most convenient form is cheetah though now that I think about it, a bird would have been better.” Celtìca started mumbling to herself. Why didn’t she pick a winged creature, it would have been best. Suddenly, the warrior interrupted Celtìca’s thought process.
“I-I am that warrior!” The stranger spoke stumbling on words.
“What?” Celtìca said in disbelief.
“I am that warrior! I have called upon the Ancients and have asked profusely to give me some help during my journey. And now you have arrived!”
Celtìca looked skeptically at the stranger. She didn’t believe a word he said. She didn’t trust the stranger and knew it to be a great caution. She sat on a rock and decided to ponder it out. She didn’t believe the poor fool but thought that perhaps this was a test of some sort. She thought that perhaps she should aide the poor soul and then search for the true warrior.
Celtìca rose from the rock and went towards the man.
“Celtìca” she spoke as she lent her hand for a shake. “Lady Celtìca the North to be precise.” The man trembled as he went in for the handshake. It was then that the warrior received a flash of information from the exchange. He saw all of the great things this druid had done. The many foes defeated; the peace and prosperity she protected. He saw her father and the Elders’ faces. He saw her whole history in a blink of an eye.
Celtìca knew something was up and quickly withdrew her hand from the handshake. She then stumbled back to the rock she had previously sat upon.
“Lãmba would be proud of you.” Spoke the stranger. Celtìca then knew that the stranger saw her whole history. She felt a bit violated and thought the stranger to be very weird. She shrugged it off though due to her curiosity.
“Who is this Lãmba you speak of?” She asked.
The stranger responded with a twinkle in his eye. “Lãmba is the Sacred God. He lived among the Ancients for many years and was then ascended into heaven as a chosen one. He lives inside the Sacred Temple keeping an eye on all we do. We have to have favor with him in order to ascend as well.”
“Sounds like a peaceful religion.” Celtìca said nodding at the thought of peace and prosperity. She still wondered who this stranger was though and how he has the power to look into her past. It seemed he was more of a Paladin and less of a warrior.
“I am so glad that the Sacred Temple brought you to me. I was doubting myself, which is the reason why I look so disheveled. Times have been tough. I am not like you shapeshifter, I cannot simply turn into an eagle and fly away.”
Celtìca smiled. It was silly of her to be a cheetah when she could fly. But then again, she would never have met this Paladin. Anyway…it is easier to see on the ground than the sky when it is snowing like it is.
The stranger shivered and then curled up by the fire, it seemed, he prepared a long time ago. Celtìca got up thanks to her staff and strode over to the stranger.
“You never told me your name.” Celtìca smiled. The stranger stood at once and introduced himself.
“My name is Degriţito and I am glad to have you as a part of my team.” He kissed her hand and bowed to her. He still was a shabby looking man but he was growing on her.

She looked around and knew they would actually have to find some useful shelter since the cave entrance was right beside them and the wind kept blowing in the cold, wet snow.

<Celtìca joined Degriţito’s Party>
The two decided it would be best to find better shelter. In time the stranger, Celtìca still thought he was, would open up to her. The two walked outside and Celtìca transformed into a Belíthian Dragon (a glorious creature of green and gold scales, a hue of blue to it as well as a red aura around it), which she fought once. She flew high into the air with Degriţito on her back. The warm blood of the beast Celtìca was made Degriţito warm.
Making sure she flew in high in the air to avoid being killed by hunters, the two made their way to South Village of Sing, instead of resuming southwest. Sing is a great large land. Many villages in the whole area of Sing.
The two flew outside the skirts of South Village and Celtìca transformed back into her regular old Giant form. The two then walked into the town and went inside the inn.
Luckily the villages of Sing accommodate Giants. It is better for business.
The place was empty except for a dwarf who stood at the front desk. He was an orange haired man with a long beard reaching the floor. Celtìca wouldn’t be surprised if he tripped over it every once in a while.
Degriţito rang the tiny little bell that sat on the front desk. The dwarf was angered since he was already there.
“No need ta ring the bell, I’m right o’er here.” The dwarf spoke in a grumbly voice. Celtìca laughed. The dwarf was angered even further. He simply stood on the stool and reached for the room keys hanging high on the wall. He gave them each a key, one for a human room one for a Giant room, and told them to buzz off.
The two decided to eat something before retiring to their room. The chef, an elf, brought out some lovely boar meat that was recently killed and cooked. The two shoveled the food in their mouths, drank some grog, and had their bellies full. The chef came back with the check.
Celtìca didn’t have any cash and looked at Degriţito with a concerned look in her eyes. Degriţito waved his hand and gold coins appeared on the table. Celtìca’s blue-green eyes glistened as she clapped happily. She was happy as could be. She never felt so happy and she didn’t know if it was because of Degriţito or all of the grog she drank.
The two said good-night and went upstairs to their separate rooms. Celtìca looked outside of her window and saw the snow storm beginning to get worse. She didn’t know if she could make this journey but she had hope in her heart and the mental capability to do it. She slumped in the bed and began to doze off. She dreamed.

Swirly clouds up in the sky. Battles of exponential proportions. Many things filled the head of this 22 year old girl as she was sleeping. The nervousness during the battles. The great thanks and title she was given.
She dreamt of the great battle that won her the title “Lady”. It was a fierce battle between her and a Belíthian Dragon, which she can now shapeshift into thanks to seeing it. It was a great battle. Mölr was and still is a great art form. Waves of colors streamed across the battlefield, the cave, and streams of sound filled the air. It was a beautiful battle and Celtìca was happy to have won. She didn’t want to kill the dragon though, but it was her last resort. She knew the beast would not withdraw quietly and therefore she had to fight it. Mölr was an art form used to uphold peace and prosperity and not normally used to fight. She did use it cautiously and that is why she was hailed as “Lady Celtìca the North”.

Morning came and Degriţito was sitting on Celtìca’s bed waking her up.
“My dear Lady, it is time to rise.” Softly spoke Degriţito lightly shaking Celtìca awake. She rose up and rubbed her eyes. She knew that they would have to travel soon but seriously wanted to know where they were going and for what.
The two slipped quietly downstairs and headed to the dining area to eat. A buffet of pancakes, eggs, waffles, bacon, sausages, toast, orange juice, coffee and more lay on various tables across the large dining area. The two dug into the feast that lay there before them.
Degriţito began to speak, with mouth full of food.
“I understand you battled our transportation?” He asked. She knew that he knew.
“You do know my life. I hardly know a thing about you.” Celtìca said and sank in her chair and moved her eggs on her plate. “And besides,” she continued, “I am not proud of killing that pour dragon but he left me no alternative. I hate gaining my title that way. But you know that also…don’t you.” She started to regret ever standing up at the GEC.
“I do apologize but it is one of my gifts that Lãmba bestowed upon me. I did not ask for your history but the Sacred Temple thought it best.”
Celtìca started to hate this Lãmba but knew she couldn’t do a thing about it.
“And as for my history, I am happy to tell you. I was a farmer for the majority of my life. I lived and worked on my father’s farm. My mother left us when I was two so I hardly knew her and by the time I was 14 I wanted to seek her out. I left my father in search for her. My trials were great and I did not find my mother but the lessons I learned were great and many. I then returned to my home last month and saw it in ruins as well as the rest of the town. My father was burnt to a crisp and I buried him in the corn field. I knew it had to be the Crimson League for their insignia was strewn across the town. I then swore to Lãmba that I would seek out those who had done this and get my revenge.”
“I doubt the Elders would agree with your aggressive action. ‘Peace and Prosperity’ is our way of life.”
“Yes…well…” Degriţito sank in his chair and he played with his eggs.
The Crimson League was a high group of Elder-like magicians who dabbled in all forms of Dark Arts. They swore themselves to the Eye, a magical guru who formed the League, and have battle against the Elders and various other leagues ever since. Celtìca now knew why everyone was reluctant to offer support to Degriţito. The Crimson League is a hard enemy to defeat. It hasn’t been done.
Celtìca and Degriţito finished their eating, paid for their room, and soon departed from the inn…then finally leaving the South Village of Sing. Celtìca transformed back into her dragon form and the two flew away.
Not knowing where they were going, Celtìca let Degriţito steer her in the direction as she flew high above.
** Where are you taking us to? ** Celtìca asked telepathically. The Belíthian Dragon, as with all dragons, can telepathically link to another creature and talk to it. Dragons usually link to someone they trust. Celtìca may not have trusted Degriţito but she was curious as to where they were heading.
** Fairview City. ** Degriţito telepathically answered back. Fairview City is reported to have some of the best cultural and scientific institutes in all of the land. The city is a quiet and local place and only archeologists and other scientists really live there. The other population is usually tourists and visitors.
The two had a long flight ahead of them if they were to make it to Fairview City. The winds were quiet this morning but they knew that, if the past taught them anything, that wouldn’t last.
The two flew across the lands and below them stretched a glorious forest, which they were happy to not have to tread through, that look magnificent at the angle they saw it at. The two continued to soar through the skies as various other flying animals flew in the other direction. They knew that the way they were going was the way the winds were heading. The winds were picking up but luckily it threw them into the direction they were going. Lucky them; praise Lãmba.
It was an hour or two before they actually cleared the forest from their view. The two knew that it was only a matter of time before they would see Fairview City. All they had to do was pass a canyon and they would be home free.
Grand Mile Canyon, which stretches further than a mile, was the only object that lay in their way. Celtìca and Degriţito would have to fly high up to avoid the spiked rocks and boulders that lay inside the canyon.
The winds were getting heavier as snow started to fall. It was then that Celtìca and Degriţito knew that the storms were brewing up again and there wasn’t a second to waste. Celtìca started to fly faster as to avoid the storm’s worsening. She flew with great speed and agility as she avoid obstacle after spikey obstacle.
They finally made it across the vast canyon and only had a couple more miles to fly before they would reach Fairview.

The two landed outside of Fairview and it was then that Degriţito saw the scratches, rather gashes, which one of the spikes made on Celtìca’s body. She was badly wounded and would need medical attention before the wound worsens. Degriţito carried Celtìca inside the city and to the medical tents that lay on the land. He threw her onto a bed and cried out for help. Priests and priestesses, who wore red robes and hats, ran over to aid the fallen soldier.

A few hours had passed and all of it Degriţito spent at Celtìca’s side. He didn’t leave for a moment even though fatigue grew within him. The priestesses even asked if Degriţito wanted a cot for himself but he shrugged them aside and clasped Celtìca’s hand even tighter as he continued to pray to Lãmba for strength for him and health for Celtìca.