The Shattered Path

Chapter 10 - The Gerauth

Theseus called upon Nature to open a path through the forest. The power warmed his flesh and radiated outward to fill the vegetation. The tangling vines, bushes, and branches parted before him, returning several paces after he had passed.

While attuned in such a way, he could feel the presence of the nearby Spirit of the Land. It knew he was there. He could not call upon its power or communicate with it in any way, but he hoped that it was also aware of his predicament. He hoped that it might yet aid him somehow, though he was a stranger.

A breeze rustled the trees and the shafts of light penetrating the canopy danced across the decaying leaves and fallen wood of the forest floor. If Theseus was lucky, he would leave a corpse behind to rot as well. He knew his fate would not be so pleasant. A creature of the Shadow would surely take him there to become part of it. Nature would coldly allow him to succumb to his predator; such was the way of things and such was Nature. He could call upon his power to protect him, yet Nature did not care about the outcome.

Birds sang from their perches among the boughs. Theseus' ears listened for another sound. A sound that did not come.

He could not deny the unearthly chill which hounded him. Upon entering a darker area in the forest, where the trees had grown dense, the small hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It was as if a creature of ice stood behind, panting cold breath upon him. That was not far from the truth, he knew. A creature was tracking him; an otherworldly creature comprised of icy darkness. His eyes continued to scan the forest, watching among the trees and brush, though he knew he would not find it there.

Theseus had wandered in circles for several days. He needed to reach Lankhastaer as soon as possible, but he couldn't guide the creature to the now-grown child. That would be foolish and dangerous. He had to destroy it, or drive it away, before entering the city. If he could not destroy it, then he would have to send word to his Circle before he perished. Hopefully, they would be able to learn what needed to be done and complete his mission. He doubted they would, though. And, if it came to sending a message, he hadn't seen his agents in twenty years. He wasn't certain he could even send a message. And he shouldn't risk such an important message on a bird or something similar because they could be eaten by predators before ever reaching their destination.

Theseus had not wandered aimlessly. He searched for a suitable tree; an ancient oak which had stood for centuries absorbing Nature. One which he could transform into an Aune staff. With such a staff, he could destroy the creature and continue to Lankhastaer. In the lands of civilized men, however, it was difficult to find such an ancient tree, if not impossible.

Theseus had considered approaching the local Circle. With the power of their grove, they could destroy the creature, but he could not trust Draechai. He could not trust anyone. Those had always been the rules. That much he could remember.

He followed the glare of the sun through the trees. It was past noon already. He was not looking forward to another night huddled between three camp fires, shivering, hoping that the creature was not strong enough to pass from the Umbra. The cold had grown stronger each night, and he assumed so had the creature. He believed that it could come for him tonight. At the very least, it would make him miserably cold.

Theseus concentrated, sending his voice into the world to call upon his distant Ri'Aen, the Spirit of the Land whom he served. He knew that the Ra'Saen stone in that far away grove would vibrate slightly, channeling the power of Nature to him.

Nature's power filled Theseus and the world swayed dizzily. The sunny landscape darkened to gloomy gray, the green leaves on the trees and the brown bark shifted to a single pasty, gray mass. The clear air became misty, thickening to a fog, limiting his vision to no more than thirty paces. He could smell the fragrances of the lush woods and hear the birds and insects, contrasting greatly with the grim images he now saw. He had not traveled anywhere. He still stood in the forest. He had shifted his vision to see the Umbra, the edge of the Shadow.