Searching For A Guardian

17. Hidden Power

A strong flow of magic surrounded Rogue as she sat up against the wall of a dirty hut. It was made almost entirely of lamann hair, the material that prevented the use of magic. She knew the Lumis was close, most likely in the outcasts village, even if they had no idea of it. She could feel its power pulling at her arms, wanting to be found. Greg sat against the opposite wall, wondering what was going to happen to them and their weapons. He was eager to know what this Derrell was like. For people who are rumoured to hate magic, they did not actually seem that bad... So far.

"Are you sure it's definitely here?" Asked Greg.

"Yes, I'm positive. Even with all this lamann hair, I can feel its presence."

"Ok, so how do we get it and ourselves out of here?"

"Let's just see what they want with us first," replied Rogue.

Shortly after, the door swung open and three men came into the hut. Falch stood on the right and a tall, skinny man with mushroom shaped hair stood on the left. Rogue assumed the one in the middle was Derrell. He had short, neatly brushed brown hair and dark eyes. His teeth needed dental work although they were very clean. His clothes were ripped but he wore a long brown woolly coat over the usual lamann hair which appeared to be compulsory in this group.

"Good afternoon, young spellcasters," he spoke politely but his tone suggested he did not talk politely very often.

"What do you want with us? Where are our weapons?" Asked Greg.

"Silence when Derrell is talking," said Falch harshly.

"Easy Falch," replied Derrell, "It's been a long time since we have had your kind around here. What is your business, spellcasters?"

"There is an item somewhere in these woods. An artefact that will see the end of this war," said Rogue. There seemed no point in hiding the truth.

"There is no such thing in my woods. We would know if some magical rubbish was here," replied Derrell.

"You would not know if you saw it. There are few that can. To you it would look like an old piece of junk. Something possibly not worth keeping," replied Rogue.

Derrell paused before answering, "I doubt very much that you will find what you are looking for," he turned on his heels and left.

"What are you going to do with us?" Asked Greg.

"Derrell will decide that," smiled Falch, he left with the tall man.

"That was brief, he doesn't like to hang around," said Greg calmly.

"We have somehow got to find it ourselves," said Rogue.

"You will. I don't know what I am looking for. A ball could be anything around here," replied Greg. He found a deflated rubber ball on the floor and picked it up.

"Help me find a way out of here then. Are there guards by the door?"

"I think so," Greg dropped the ball and punched the floor, "There is a bloody war going on out there and we're stuck in here."

"Calm yourself. That will not help anybody. If we can just get out of here, I might be able to see exactly where it is."

"Ok, but they've practically wrapped everything up with this hair stuff, so magic is out of the question," Greg scanned the walls. He considered ripping the hair down and blasting the wall, but he knew they would not destroy every bit of Lamann hair before reaching their weapons.

The door opened and Derrell walked back into the room. He carried Greg's sword and a look of appreciation covered his face, "This is a good sword. It's not Souvana made is it?"