Brian Pratt - Trail of the Gods

Just beneath the log, he sees Aleya lying upside down on the edge of the ravine, her bow lying below her down on the bottom. From the angle she’s laying, it looks like her foot has gotten wedged in between some roots and hanging upside down like that, has been unable to free it.

“What happened?” James asks as he cautiously makes his way over the log.

Looking rather embarrassed, she says, “I was climbing over the log when my foot slipped in between these roots and I lost my balance and fell.”

Jiron comes up from the bottom and supports her shoulders while James works her foot out from between the roots. As her foot slips free, Jiron helps her to stand.

Testing it with her weight, she says, “I don’t think it’s broken.” They help her back up to the top after which, Jiron returns to the bottom of the raving to retrieve her bow. When he returns it to her, she gives him a smile and says, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies.

“You didn’t hurt yourself when you flew over the top did you?” she asks.

“No,” he says.

“We thought you were in trouble,” explains James.

“I appreciate you coming to find me,” she says.

The light is starting to fade so she returns with them to the camp where they have another meal of cold, stale rations. Still, it’s better than nothing.

Standing there the following morning at the beginning of the stairs with the seven stone spires rising around him, James looks with trepidation at the climb he’s about to embark upon.

Jiron comes up behind him and lays his hand on his shoulder. “It’s not going to be so bad,” he says.

“I hope not,” he replies.

Stepping upon the first step, Aleya glances to them and says, “There are several areas along the way where we can rest if you need to, but we really should try to make it all the way to the top by nightfall.”

Sighing, he says, “Lead on.” He approaches the stairs with Jiron beside him and begins the climb. Aleya takes the steps at an even and steady pace.

After only a hundred feet, he begins to feel the strain of the climb as his legs start protesting. And when they come to the first resting spot the builders had constructed for the weary traveler, he collapses on the ground. His legs are already tired and beginning to burn from the exertion.

A broken pile of stone shows where a bench had once rested long ago. James doesn’t care, he just lies down on the flat ground to the side of the stairs and hopes his legs calm down before they resume the climb.

Jiron goes to the edge of the overlook and gazes out across the valley. “We’ve already come a ways,” he says to James.

Coming to stand beside him, Aleya takes in the panorama of the valley laid out before them. “Beautiful,” she says. “If I’d known it was like this, I would’ve done this long ago.”

After he’s rested a moment and his legs have stopped their aching, James gets to his feet and comes over to stand next to them. Indeed, the view is breathtaking. Looking hard, he can make out the ruins nestled in amongst the trees. If he didn’t know they were there, he probably wouldn’t have noticed them.

“James!” Jiron exclaims as he points to a clearing near the middle of the valley.

Squinting against the morning light, he’s able to make out shapes down there. Hundreds of them moving in their direction. “I guess they didn’t give up.”

“No,” comments Aleya, “It doesn’t look like it.” Grabbing her bow from where it sits propped up against the broken pieces of the bench, she says, “We better move.”

Resuming the climb with renewed determination, James doesn’t get very far before he begins feeling the tingle of someone doing magic. It’s not very strong but it’s there. A shadow blots out the sun for just a moment and he looks up to find clouds rolling in at an unnatural speed.

“What’s going on James?” Jiron asks from where he’s paused several steps ahead of him, looking at the sky.

Turning his attention to Jiron, he says, “He’s calling clouds to the area.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Don’t know,” he replies. “But I doubt if it’s for our benefit. We better get up and off these stairs fast.”

Aleya is further up and has paused when she realizes they’ve stopped. “Come on!” she hollers back down to them. “We’re halfway there.”

With a groan, James gets his fatigued legs moving.

Sitting at the top of the ridge is what looks to be a broken watchtower, probably at one time having stood guard over this way into the valley. By the time they’ve reached the next rest area, soldiers can be seen at the bottom of the stairs where they’re beginning the ascent. Above them, the ruins of the watchtower stand silent vigil over the events below.

The side of the ridge begins to rise more severely as the stairs continue to wind their way along its face. One more rest area between them and the top, Aleya has already reached it and is waiting there for them to catch up.

James is having a hard time, his legs are beginning to become leathery from the incessant climbing. When Jiron is about to the rest area he glances back down to find James still quite a ways below them. Down at the base of the stairs is a veritable swarm of black shapes waiting their turn to begin ascending the stairs in pursuit.

He rushes back down to where James is huffing and puffing. Grabbing his arm he cries out, “We don’t have all day!”

“I know,” James wheezes, thankful for the aid. With Jiron’s help he manages to make it to the rest area and collapses.

“We can’t stay here!” Aleya confronts him as he lies on his back, trying to get his wind back and calm the complaints his legs are sending him. Above them, the cloud cover is steadily increasing as more and more stream in from every direction. Within the dark, churning mass above them, they begin to see bursts of light as lightning flashes. The wind begins to pick up as it whips against their exposed position on the ridgeface.

Flash! Boom!

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning strikes the ridge not far from them. The concussion of the blast knocks Aleya and Jiron to the ground. The spike in the tingling sensation just prior to the flash tells James this was no accident. Struggling against his protesting body, he gets up off the ground as the others do the same.

“He’s calling the lightning!” James yells to Jiron. The wind whipping the side of the ridge almost taking his words away.

“Who is calling the lightning?” Aleya yells, both anger and fear present in her voice. She looks from one to the other, “Just who are you two?”

Putting his arm under James’ for support, Jiron helps him as they begin climbing the rest of the way to the top. Aleya follows behind them, arrow knocked in her bow, more for comfort than actually thinking it will be useful in this wind.

She grabs Jiron’s shirt and asks, “What is going on?”

Over his shoulder, he yells to be heard over the wind, “We got a Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li after us!”

“What’s that?” she asks, never having heard of one.

“Tell you later,” he yells.

As they’re moving further up the steps, James has been trying to determine which way the polarity for the lightning is going. He finally believes he has it figured out when the tingling spikes yet again.

Concentrating on a point twenty yards to the side, he releases the magic and creates a severe polarity discrepancy.

Flash! Boom!

Again, the lightning flares from the sky. The bolt strikes the spot where James had increased the polarity to attract it. As the concussion knocks him down, a memory comes to him of a time back in school in Miss Anderson’s Weather and Climate class when Dave had complained about having to learn about polarities. He can still hear him moaning, ‘When am I ever going to need this stuff anyway?’