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Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #1808113
Second write-up
Somewhere in Norway

1392 AD

A lone knight pulled his large brown steed to a halt as he approached his destination. Biting winds kicked up snow, threatening him with frostbite. He worked the joints of his armor, which threatened to lock up from the frost. Satisfied that they were working, he dismounted his horse.

Up ahead lay the final part of his journey. The old shaman was in the cave, if the locals could be believed. The knight had chased him through forest, hill and valley. He always arrived just a moment too late. A ritually slaughtered animal here, and few runes and demonic sigils there, but never any wizard. But now the old spellbinder had run himself into a corner. There would be no escape.

His horse neighed and he patted it on the neck. The cold was getting to it as well. The knight looked around and found a rocky outcropping that seemed to be parting the wind. He took his horse to it and settled it down. He only hoped the old bag of bones still had enough strength in him for the return journey.

“Bag of bones, yourself,” he remarked, voicing his thoughts aloud, “You’re not as young as you once were.” Satisfied that his horse wouldn’t freeze to death, he returned to the task at hand. The cave lay up ahead, the mouth gaping open like some kind of mouth. The knight gritted his teeth and fought against the winds to get to the cave’s entrance.

Inside wasn’t much warmer, but it was warm enough. The numbness began to gradually leave his body. He took in his surroundings, making certain he wasn’t going to be ambushed. The cave was spacious, and had a certain eerie aura to it. The knight murmured a prayer to himself, asking for protection from demons.

Something flickered up ahead, catching his attention. At first he thought it might be a fire, but the glow was blue, not orange. It was coming from behind a stalagmite. He crept forward, the gold cross on his breastplate catching the glint from whatever the light was.

“By the wounds of Christ, what is that?” he remarked. Sitting before him was a strange blue crystal. It reminded him of quartz, but was much larger than any quartz crystal he’d ever seen, and was bright blue. It also seemed to pulse with its own luminescence.

Before he could inspect it any further, a loud cough echoed down the caverns. The knight stood up and wheeled around, his long white cape swishing dramatically. Another cough came his way. He strained his ears and followed the sound.

Further down the cave were more of the crystals. They cast an unearthly glow on everything. “Unearthly,” he muttered. That word seemed perfect for them. And not just for the crystals, but the cave too. Something about it didn’t seem right.

The sight ahead interrupted his thoughts again. Strange runes that nauseated him just to look at were etched all over the walls. A pile of the crystals was gathered up, and a pentagon of bones surrounded them. The pulsating glow was much stronger. So was the strange feeling he’d had upon entering the cave.

The shaman hobbled into view, carrying a cluster of blue crystals. He hacked again, dropping a few. They made soft tinkling noises as they hit the hard floor of the cave. “Shaman!” the knight cried out. The surprised wizard dropped his collection of crystals. His eyes widened.

“You!” he growled in a voice as old and grizzled as he was, “You’re the one who’s been chasing me this whole time!” He held up his hands and several of the crystals floated into the air. The knight held up his shield as they came sailing at him. The blue missiles shattered harmlessly, throwing fragments everywhere.

“Your name, knight! What is your name? I like to know who I’m about to kill,” the wizard cackled. “I am Thaddeus Bellatoni, Paladin of the Supreme Pontiff,” the knight said defiantly. “A Paladin, eh? I never figured I was important enough for them to send a Paladin!”

Thaddeus began to charge, but threw up his shield again as another wave of crystals shot at him. The shaman taunted him, daring him to come closer. “What is your purpose here, spellbinder?” Thaddeus roared back. “My purpose? I am about to unlock secrets you couldn’t imagine. I already have, in fact. This cave you are in is not just a cave…it is a bridge. A bridge to new worlds!”

“That feeling…” Thaddeus whispered. That was why the cave felt so strange. The wizard was playing around with reality itself. He couldn’t allow that. Such a thing was too dangerous for anyone to be tampering with. Throwing caution to the winds, he rushed forward. A stinging wave of blue crystal met him halfway to the wizard. He cast his head down, letting his armor and helmet get pelted by the shafts. He put his lance out and raised his head moments before he reached the sorcerer.

The shaman dove aside, letting the Paladin barrel past him. Thaddeus staggered to a halt and spun on one heel. His lance wheeled around with him, swinging sideways with the blade parallel to the ground. The sorcerer was beginning some kind of chant, and the temperature in the cave dropped dramatically. Swirls of frosty air formed around his hands.

The Paladin’s blade connected with the shaman’s neck just as his hands cast themselves outwards, sending out two streams of ice. Thaddeus was thrown backwards by the blast, slamming into the cave’s wall. He felt himself being pinned by something hard and cold. Thaddeus opened his eyes and saw a layer of blue ice growing over his body. It continued to stream out of the wizard’s body, even as he bled to death.

The shaman staggered backwards, throwing his hands up. The gusts of frost travelled with them, encrusting Thaddeus’ upper body with the same blue ice. No, it wasn’t ice, it was the crystal. Hard as he tried to struggle, the Paladin found himself trapped. Every part of him was going numb. His vision started to fade. Thaddeus glimpsed the wizard finally collapsing on the ground. As the crystals grew over his face and he slipped into unconsciousness, Thaddeus saw his mission was complete. He prepared himself for death, praying that the Lord have mercy on his soul…

There he would remain, for hundreds of years, in a world-between-worlds. The blessings of his armor kept him safe from harm, preserving his body in a coma and keeping him from aging. Fate would conspire, and two visitors, one from his world and one from another, would find him waiting there.
© Copyright 2011 TomQuoVadis (tomquovadis at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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