Everlast

Chapter 23; We journey ever on....

When dawn broke on the morrow, Ajay arose with the sun more out of habit than anything else.

In a hurried rush, he and his companions ate a large breakfast of berries, nuts, some sort of moss, cheese, and elvish flatbread. Yet even though Ajay ate with vigor, he could not help but miss the traditional Indian dishes his mother would make; roti, butter chicken, curry... the thought of all of it made his mouth water even as he ate.

Once breakfast was finished, however, the elves led them in a large procession to the forest entrance, every mood solemn as the companions set about to leave.

Turning to them, Ajay hoped they would not make him give a speech. He was bad at speeches. But rather than that, something far worst happened; the elven king himself came to see them off.

Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Ajay looked the king in the eye and said awkwardly, "I suppose you're glad to see that I'm going."

A smile fluttered over the proud king's lips. "I've never been happier."

Ajay coughed.

"However," the elven king continued, "You are our Chosen One and as much as I despise war, I shall be happy to help you in this noble cause." Snapping his fingers, the elven king called forth several servants who came baring various items. "A gift" the king said, "May it serve you well."

Ajay gasped; it was a sword.

A medival two-handed longsword to be exact, with a blade that flashed almost white in the sunlight and seemed to glow as if it held a fire from within. Taking it from the king, Ajay gripped it in his hands, surprised by how thin and light the blade was. Yet it seemed strong too, with just enough flexibility, and a wonderful balance. 

Gaping at it, Ajay did not know what to say for a moment other than, "Thank you..."

The elven king chuckled, "This is Everlast, one of the first twelve swords forged by those descended from the gods many years ago. Legend says that these beings, Celestials, we call them, forged the blades with the bones of the old gods themselves and infused the metal with magic."

Ajay was pretty sure he may have fan-boyed a bit at that part. Not only did he have a sword, but it was a BONE sword with MAGIC POWERS.

He was not sure it got much better than this.

Once again, he thanked the elven king profusely and gave him a respectful bow, which the elf returned, still smiling.

Finally, turning to Grimble, Ajay looked his mentor in the eye and said. "I want to thank you... for everything you've taught me. It has been an honor." Strangely enough, Ajay had not gotten emotional this entire time. Yet now he felt tears welling up in his eyes and a lump forming in his throat.

Grimble too, appeared to be a little teary eyed but Ajay wondered if he was imagining it. "No, lad." the Spell Master replied, his old voice warbling slightly, "It has been MY honor." he then cleared his throat briskly, patting Ajay roughly on the back. "Don't start crying now, boy, you've got quite a bit of road ahead of you. Best be off then. Take good care of Thistle; gods know she's trouble."

At that moment, however, the fae girl was bawling her eyes out and clinging to Grimble's robes. And it was only when Jareth promised that she could sit on his head for most of the journey that she let go.

Chuckling, Grimble patted her on the head. "Now then, little one. We'll see each other again. Only next time I'll have an army."

And thus, with a shouted chorus of goodbyes they set off, leaving Grimble and the elves behind and taking a new path, coming closer and closer to the Nightling kingdom and the goblin king.

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The day was as fine as any; a summer morning that held just a hint of the autumn to come.

Ajay shook his head. Another few months and he would have been in Adoras for a year. Now, he had no doubt that he had missed his birthday, meaning he was now eighteen.

Blimey. He really WAS a man now.

Strangely enough, he did not feel as though he was. If anything, he felt as though-- by his own world's standards-- he had become more immature. For now, he believed in magic and elves and faeries. He believed in dragons and goblins and monsters. 

All those things that he had scoffed at, thinking that believing in them would make him seem like more of a child... here, in this world they were real. And knowing that, believing that, did not make him any less of a grown-up. It did not make him immature. And perhaps there had even been magic in his own world, though he had been  too blind to see it; ignoring the childish side of himself that yearned for magic, thinking that he was too old.

But, as it seems, one is never too old for adventures.

Sighing, Ajay felt as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders and upon patting Everlast's sheath to make sure the sword was tightly secured, he felt a thrill go through him.

In fact, it seemed as though all of them were in a better mood, being on the move again and as they walked through the end of the forest and out onto the plains once more, Jareth began a rousing marching song, his voice wonderful and clear.

Down this path we ever tread, through rain, through sleet and snow!

And though we journey ever on, we walk the paths that none shall know.

We have no place to rest our head, no place to call our own.

Yet though we journey ever on, a traveller need not journey ever alone!

After a moment, Thistle joined in, her voice high pitched and quite squeaky. Then Ajay, though a bit hesitant at first, chimed in and soon got the hang of the rythm.

Only Emmer and Dagon did not sing-- who could blame them, really-- yet at one point the elf drew out a wooden pipe and began to play along in the spirit of things.

Through this wood we ever tread, our feet go on and on,

But though we leave our memories, they never shall be gone!

We sleep beneath the endless stars, no place to call our home,

Yet though we journey ever on, a traveller need not journey alone!

Voices rising and falling, notes of the pipe ringing in his ears, Ajay sang ever the louder, a huge grin on his face. Above him, birds swooped and dove over their heads and sunlight shone down from a cloudless blue sky. In the distance, Ajay could see mountains, their peaks dusted with snow, faces bold and shadowed. 

At this point, Ajay's awkwardness left him completely and he was simply lost in the song; a melody that made his heart feel as though it were soaring. The song that gave him hope. And he cared not who heard his terrible singing voice, even if it was the goblin king himself. For Ajay was coming for him.

And he would not be alone.

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