Chapter 5: Consequences and the Old Man

Ron find out the price of using Magic, the hard way.

Chapter 5: Repercussions and The Old Man

Ron opened his eyes and jumped to his feet, remembering the events that took place at the village. He immediately regretted doing so, as every muscle in his body seemed to scream and contract in agonizing remembrance of the previous days' exertion. His head felt ten times worse than it had when he had first arrived in this Realm. He fell back onto whatever it was he had been laying on, with a gasp. Another mistake, he landed on his right arm, which was still blackened, with the exception of several red fist-sized scabs.

Searing agony from his arm immediately spread across his body, and his mind seemed to shrink into a cold dark shadow of its former self. He couldn't even think about getting up for several minutes, the pain took over all aspects of his existence. He would have traded anything for just a few moments relieve from his agony. Someone surely must have heard his ghastly wails, but even if they did, was there anything they could do?

He almost didn't notice the old man standing over him, looking down with sympathy and yet, a slight contempt that seemed to hide behind the veil of his gray eyes. “Hello, child. Be still, and I will do what I can.”

Ron barely heard his words through the screaming that was continuing in his head. He watched as the man bent down and held his hand over Ron's arm. The skin on his arm began to turn gray and flake off, burning with a renewed vigor. His screams began again. This time, it only lasted for a minute, though to Ron it was a lifetime, as the scabs were replaced with smooth new skin. The pain began to decrease, not only in his arm, but through the entirety of his body. His eyes widened and he looked at the man, and thanked him, more sincerely than he had thanked anyone in years.

The man brushed off his gratitude, appearing to focus on studying Ron with one eye wider than the other, giving him a rather insane appearance. “You are Ron,” he stated flatly.

“Yes. Who are you? How did you do that? Where are we? Where is Michael?” Ron asked, quickly realizing the pain hadn't allowed him the clarity of thought to wonder about these things before he had been healed.

Without stopping his examination he said, “Garim. Magic. A forest. Somewhere else. And before you ask, that's Hedta and she means you no harm.” Ron looked to his left and saw what looked like a small dragon, about six feet tall, looking down at him with black eyes that proudly displayed intelligence. It had back scales that seemed to reflect the world around it in the same way that the great hall of Castle Vraistalker had. Each breath let out a plume of grey smoke from the depths of its fiery nostrils. Wings furled around its body as it stared directly at, if not through Ron.

“Woah,” Ron managed to blurt, without closing his jaw. At that, the man seemed to genuinely smile, though Ron couldn't tell whether it looked more like a smile of pride, or one of appreciation of the creatures dark and illustrious beauty.

The dragon dipped its head in Ron's direction in greeting, then looked back at the old man. “Come, young one. We've much to speak of, and little time to speak of it,” he said, in his characteristically high voice.

“Uhh okay,” Ron said without arguing. He thought he at least owed the man for ridding him of the pain. Besides he didn't want to anger this man, who seemed to have command of a dragon, and Ron somehow sensed, a frighteningly powerful amount of Magic.

He followed Garim for what he estimated was a mile, keeping a steady pace, through insisted silence on the man's insistence. Ron actively had to try not to stare at the dragon: The impossible creature that seemed equal amounts intelligent, ferocious, and majestic. Every time he snuck a look at her, she seemed to notice, which frightened Ron into looking face forward.

They eventually reached a small wood cottage, built on the teetering plateau of earth that extended out over the top of a waterfall. They closed in on the cottage and the dragon walked over to a small bale of hay and laid down spinning and curling in a fashion that made Ron think of a dog. Ron and Garim walked into the cottage, which smelled of wood fire. Ron had to admit, the inside of it surprised him: It was the exact size that it looked to be from the outside, which set it apart from the other buildings of this Realm, as they were all vastly bigger on the inside. He also noticed that it was very plain, it looked as if it had been taken straight out of his own, currently magic-less Realm.

“You look surprised,” he heard Garim say. “I don't need to use Magic for unnecessary things, I find simple living is something everyone should observe, at least for a time.”

Ron hadn't even thought about whether or not he would use Magic, if he survived long enough to get his own accommodations. He thought it was interesting to see someone who had the ability to use Magic, and who was obviously proficient at it, not using it for everyday purposes.

“Have a seat,” Garim said, walking over to the kitchen, but gesturing to one of two comfortable looking chairs, positioned, facing each other in front of the fireplace. Ron did so, jumping on the opportunity to sit down. Though his injuries were healed, he felt a slight soreness, as if he had been on his feet for days, like he had after arriving at the village. He looked around the cottage, which seemed plain, yet comfortable. Aside from the kitchen area and the living room, where Ron sat, there seemed to be a bedroom with a half open door, but that was all there was to the rather small abode.

Garim walked over to where he was sitting, with a single mug in his hand. “I'd offer you some, but I know that you don't like coffee,” he said, half sighing as he sat in the chair.

“How did you-” Ron began.

But, Garim cut in with, “there's a lot of things that I know: For instance I know about your quest, the trials you face on it, and the repercussions that the Realms would have to face if you failed, better than anyone else.”

Ron sighed, he was getting tired of people asserting that there were grave consequences if he failed, and that he didn't understand them fully. Which he admitted that he may not, but hearing about them constantly did nothing for his confidence or his anxiety. “Who are you, to know all of these things,” Ron asked, a hint of an edge working its way into his voice.

“It's a rather long story and as I said, we don't have much time,” Garim replied. “What is important, is that I explain some things to you without interruption.” Ron nodded in agreement, curious of what the man had to say. “First off, I know how you feel about Dark Magic and those who practice it. Those men do not represent all those who utilize that particular skill, those men were simply evil. Do not confuse Dark Magic with evil Magic. Any Magic can be used for evil, just as Dark Magic can be used for good. You will probably need it someday yourself.”

“Take for instance, the Darkness. Creatures that pillage and are evil, yet they are the dark without which, the light cannot shine. Magic needs the Darkness, or it could not exist.”

“I... I understand, it's sort of like Yin and Yang, right? But, I still have to fight them,” Ron said, determined. He had previously only thought of the Darkness as creatures without purpose, and he found it hard to change his opinion on them, especially whereas he remembered Bishop saying, they had something to do with the attack at the village.

“Correct and of course you do,” he replied impatiently. “You have to fight the Darkness, but you don't have to hate what is mislabeled as Dark Magic. As I'm sure you noticed earlier today: Magic in general costs you physically, and the stronger you are, the more it costs you when you start using it. It's going to cost you quite a bit lad, I can sense your vast abilities, what you did last night was but a taste of your power.”

“You have quite the struggle ahead of you, and I feel it's only fair for you to hear exactly what you will be facing, though my foresight is limited. The Darkness of your Realm are going to be stronger than those in any other, as Magic is entering your Realm so late. They get stronger and more numerous with every generation. The Grey Ones enhanced by the Dark Ones, are as you know, quite a bit more powerful than they were when they were known as Grey Ones. They also have far greater numbers than either you or Bishop knows.” Ron thought he saw a slight twitch cross the man's face when he mentioned Bishop, though why, Ron could not know.

He continued, “There may be a greater threat, though it may be avoided through a choice of yours, I'm sorry, but I can't tell you more on that one, as it's kept from even my gaze.”

A sudden question popped into Ron's head and he felt it necessary to ask, even through his terror at what the man had just revealed to him, “are you the Bone Seer?”

At that the man burst out laughing, waiting till the fit subsided he said, “Gods no... Though I suspect you will encounter him eventually.”

Ron found himself wondering why the man had found this so funny, but decided not to ask The Bone Seer seemed to be the least of his concerns. “At least answer me this: Why is it so dire that you tell me these things?” Ron asked, adjusting himself in his seat.

“Well, because if you fail, Magic will lose balance, and the Realms will begin to crumble, until nothing of any of them remains, save the ruins and a lot of corpses,” he replied, looking into his mug.

Ron gaped at the man, he knew the consequences were dire, but to think that so many lives, could depend on his success. He looked up at the man and asked desperately, “why the hell would the Grey Ones want this? Wouldn't they end up dead if that happened?”

“They would. However, they worship the Darkness and will give their lives to further the creatures' goals. Besides, some men crave power, and simply want to see the world crushed beneath their boot,” as he finished, he looked back up at Ron, waiting to hear his response.

“Are the Darkness intelligent? They must be in order to interact with the Grey Ones as they do, like can they speak?” Ron asked, the thought crossing his mind for the first time.

“Of course their intelligent, all creatures that have anything to do with Magic are intelligent, that said, the Darkness don't speak. Some magical creatures can, but not all of them do,” he said, draining his mug of the last sips of coffee, and placing it on a table to his immediate right. “Now, Ron, I fear it is time for you to go, as the sun is going to set soon, and you can't be here when it gets dark.”

“What?! Why is the sun going to set?” he asked, positive that it wasn't even late enough to be afternoon yet, though a look out the window of the cabin quickly proved him wrong. Then the last part of the statement recrossed his mind and he asked, turning his head slowly, “and why can't I be here when it does?”

The man stood, and looked down at Ron before saying, “first of all, I’m surprised you haven't noticed that the sun and the moon's dance is different in this Realm as it is in every Realm. Though to be truthful you're not really going anywhere, since you haven't left the clearing with Michael. Finally, you need to understand that I am your ally now, but at night I am your enemy.”

Ron looked up at the man, trying to process all that he had said, but not doing a good job, as the man had thrown quite a few curve balls Ron's way. “What... what are you talking about,” he stuttered.

“Maybe some day you'll find out, but not today,” he said, sadly. “Oh, and Ron... take care Hedta, she will be a good friend and a valuable companion to you on your difficult quest. Also, I'm sorry for everything that's going to happen to you, I wish I could help you more, but none of us have the power to mold events more than you do.”

Ron didn't have time to contemplate what he had said, as things began to happen that distracted him from the conversation: He watched as the cabin began to fade out of view, as if he was being surrounded by blackness. He wondered if he had fallen unconscious when, suddenly a light appeared at the edge of his vision. A dot at first, but it was growing larger rapidly, as if it was moving towards Ron, or he to it.

He slammed into the light, which actually must have been the real world, as he felt himself sitting up as if he had just woken up from a nightmare. He realized, he was still in a clearing, though it was actually still morning here. Had it all been a dream? Had that old man just been a figment of his imagination?

He looked at his arm and realized that it, along with his other injuries were, in fact healed and that he felt surprisingly well rested. He stood up, slowly this time. Looking around, he noted that he was in a clearing, though Michael was still nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, he heard a deep-throated roar, coming from immediately behind him. Turning, he saw the familiarly intelligent black eyes of the dragon Hedta starring at him at eye level. Startled he fell backwards to the cover of a tree, but the creature made no signs of pursuit, or mal-intent. He slowly made his way to the middle of the clearing, and after gathering his reserves of courage, he put his hand out, palm up. The creature moved closer to it and sniffed it with several waves of warm smoke, emanating from its nostrils.

Once satisfied, it dipped its head, and Ron began to pat the scales, in a downward motion, on the head, between its two long ivory horns. It purred in a similar fashion to a cat, and Ron felt the throaty rumble up his whole arm. At this point Ron had a moment of clarity. He was petting a real live dragon. A dragon. It seemed so impossible that before today, the thought never would have crossed his mind. What would his family say when they saw her? He chuckled for a moment, picturing their reactions.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a rustling sound, at the edge of the clearing. He looked, and simultaneously heard the dragon's angry growl. He felt a heat from beside him as it crouched, breathing a foot long plume of fire, in threat.

Then Ron heard a familiar voice coming from the bushes, it said, "Hey, it's me Michael, I went to get firewood.”

Ron looked at the Hedta and said, “No, wait he's a friend!” His warning had come just in time as the dragon had unfurled its wings in preparation to attack. It looked at Ron and slowly relaxed, extinguishing its flames with a puff of black smoke.

“Gods, Ron! Is... Is that a dragon!? I thought they were extinct, even when they weren’t they killed humans without a second thought! How did you... and is your arm healed!? I was gone for twenty minutes, what the hell happened!?” Michael asked, shock evident in his voice.

“I met an old man named Garim in a dream, he healed me, gave me some strange advice, and told me that Hedta here,” he gestured at the dragon, “would be joining me from here on out. To be honest, I'm probably even more confused than you are.”

“Garim, huh?” He repeated the name a few times though he didn't seem to recognize it. “I have a feeling you are going to be one of those people that interesting events seem to unfold around.”

“I wish I could say that I thought you were wrong,” Ron said, a hint of melancholy working it's way into his tone.

“No, you're thinking of it all wrong. Think of it Ron your going to live an amazing life, do amazing things, and aquatint yourself with amazing people. This life will be difficult, but through great strife, comes great rewards.”

Ron nodded slightly, “I guess so. So far I've been getting more negatives than positives.”

“Ron, you just harnessed your magic and fought of fourteen of the strongest magi I've ever encountered, on your first day using it. You are also the first person I've ever met to have a dragon for an ally-” He was cut off as the Hedta roared, a sound that seemed to carry agreement with Michael's statement.

Ron looked at the two of them, realizing that he did in fact have allies, and maybe there were some things in this world that he could live with. He looked towards the sun, and saw that black clouds were spreading across the sky. Michael turned to him and said, “A storm is coming, we should find shelter.” Ron agreed, as did Hedta through a series of nods and nudges, as if the rain was not something she wanted to be caught in. They began making their way towards shelter, with Ron feeling as if he may yet be able to accomplish this impossible mission, for the first time, since learning its details.

Author's Note

First draft, any opinions welcome.