Richard Knaak - The Well of Eternity

When?

The simple question filled him with a sudden dread. When …

Nozdormu trapped in eternity…all time open to the anomaly…

The thick woods and the growing shadows created by the vanishing sun made it virtually impossible to see enough to identify the land. He would have to take to the air. Surely a short flight would be safe. The area seemed bereft of any settlement.

“Rhonin, remain here. I will scout from above, then return shortly.”

“Is that wise?”

“I think it absolutely necessary.” Without a further word, Krasus stretched out his arms and began transforming.

Or rather, he tried to transform. Instead, the dragon mage doubled over in agony and overwhelming weakness. His entire body felt turned inside out and he lost all sense of balance.

Strong arms caught him just as he fell. Rhonin carefully dragged him to a soft spot, then helped his companion down.

“Are you all right? You looked as if—”

Krasus cut him off. “Rhonin…I could not change. I could not change…”

The young wizard frowned, not comprehending. “You’re still weak, Master Krasus. The trip through that thing—”

“Yet, you are standing. Take no offense from me, human, but what we passed through should have left you in a far worse state than mine.”

The other nodded, understanding. “I just figured that you spent yourself trying to keep me alive.”

“I am afraid to tell you that once we entered it, I could do no more for you than I could for myself. In fact, if not for Nozdormu—”

“Nozdormu?” Rhonin’s eyes widened. “What’s he got to do with our survival?”

“You did not see him?”

“No.”

Exhaling, the dragon mage described what he had seen. As he did, Rhonin’s expression grew increasingly grim.

“Impossible…” the human finally breathed.

“Terrifying,” Krasus corrected him. “And now I must tell you also that, even if Nozdormu did save us from the raw forces of the anomaly, I fear he did not send us back to where we came from…or even when.”

“You think…you think we’re in a different time?”

“Yes…but as to what period…I cannot say. I also cannot say how we will be able to get back to our own era.”

Slumping back, Rhonin gazed into empty space. “Vereesa…”

“Have courage! I said I cannot say how we will be able to get back, but that does not mean that we will not try! Still, our first action must be to find sustenance and shelter…and some knowledge of the land. If we can place ourselves, we might be able to calculate where best to find the assistance we need. Now, help me up.”

With the human’s aid, Krasus stood. After a few tentative steps, he decreed himself well enough to walk. A short discussion on which direction to take ended with agreement to head north, toward some distant hills. There the two might be able to see far enough over the trees the next day to sight some village or town.

The sun fell below the horizon barely an hour into their trek, but the pair continued on. Fortunately, Rhonin had in one of his belt pouches some bits of travel food and a bush they passed supplied them with a few handfuls of edible if sour berries. In addition, the smaller, almost elven form Krasus wore required far less food than his true shape. Still, both were aware that come the next day they would have to find more substantial fare if they were to survive.

The thicker garments used for the mountains proved perfect to keep them warm once darkness reigned. Krasus’s superior vision also enabled them to avoid some pitfalls in their path. Still, the going was slow and thirst began to take its toll on the pair.

Finally, a slight trickling sound to the west led them to a small stream. Rhonin and Krasus knelt gratefully and began to drink.

“Thank the Five,” the dragon mage said as they drank. Rhonin nodded silently, too busy trying to swallow the entire stream.

After they had their fill, the two sat back. Krasus wanted to go on, but neither he nor the human clearly had the strength to do so. They would have to rest for the night here, then continue on at first light.

He suggested as much to Rhonin, who readily agreed. “I don’t think I could go another step,” the wizard added. “But I think I can still create a fire if you like.”

The idea of a fire enticed Krasus, but something inside him warned against it. “We shall be warm enough in our garments. I would prefer to err on the side of caution for now.”

“You’re probably right. We could be in the time of the Horde’s first invasion for all we know.”

That seemed a bit unlikely to Krasus considering the peacefulness of the woods, but the centuries had produced other dangers. Fortunately, their present location would keep them fairly secreted from most creatures passing near. A rising slope also gave them a natural wall to hide behind.

More out of exhaustion than agreement, they stayed where they were, literally falling asleep on the spot. Krasus’s slumber, however, was a troubled one in which his dreams reflected events.

Again he saw Nozdormu struggling against that which was his very nature. He saw all time tangled, confused, and growing more unstable each moment the anomaly existed.

Krasus saw something else, too, a faint, fiery glare, almost like eyes, gazing hungrily on all it saw. The dragon mage frowned in his sleep as his subconscious tried to recollect why such an image would seem so terribly familiar…

But then the slight clink of metal against metal intruded, ripping apart his dreams and scattering the bits away just as Krasus was on the verge of remembering what the burning eyes represented.

Even as he stirred, Rhonin’s hand clamped over his mouth. Early in his long, long life, such an affront would have made the dragon teach the mortal creature a painful lesson in manners, but now Krasus not only had more patience than in his youth, he also had more trust.

Sure enough, the clink of metal again sounded. So very slight, but to the trained ears of either spellcaster, still like thunder.

Rhonin pointed upward. Krasus nodded. Both cautiously stood, trying to see over the slope. Hours had clearly passed since they had fallen asleep. The woods were silent save for the songs of a few insects. If not for the brief, unnatural sounds they had heard, Krasus would have thought nothing amiss.

Then a pair of large, almost monstrous shapes materialized beyond the slope. At first they were unrecognizable, but then Krasus’s superior vision identified them as not two creatures, but rather four .

A pair of riders atop long, muscular panthers.

They were tall, very lean, but clearly warriors. They were clad in armor the color of the night and wore high, crested helms with nose guards. Krasus could not yet make out their faces, but they moved with a fluidity he did not see in most humans. Both the riders and their sleek, black mounts journeyed along as if little troubled by the darkness, which made the dragon mage quickly caution his companion.

“They will see you before you clearly see them,” Krasus whispered. “What they are, I do not know, but they are not of your kind.”

“There’s more!” Rhonin returned. Despite his inferior vision, he had been gazing in just the right direction to catch another pair of riders approaching.

The four soldiers moved in almost complete silence. Only the occasional breath from an animal or metallic movement gave any sign of their presence. They looked to be involved in an intense hunt…

Krasus came to the dread conclusion that they were looking for Rhonin and him.

One of the foremost riders reined his monstrous, saber-toothed mount to a halt, then raised his hand to his face. A small flash of blue light briefly illuminated the area around him. In his gauntleted hand the rider held a small crystal, which he focused on the dark landscape. After a moment, he cupped the artifact with his other hand, dousing the light.