Disclaimer: Characters are property of HB and are used for entertainment purposes only.

Archiving permission granted.
 

THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

Synopsis: The bad guys put in their two cents.

"THE INNER LIGHT", chapter 5

by Eric R. Umali

"Warnings"

In a few days after leaving, Jonathor had nearly made his way to the main roads. It was mid-summer, and the sun shone high and hot. He had long before doffed his armor and leather clothes and was still riding through the shade of the forest, but the heat was still blistering. When he and Bandit came upon the small stream, he thanked every deity he'd ever heard of out loud. Bandit whinnied in agreement as Jonathor dismounted and led him to the cool, crystal clear water.

Bandit drank greedily as his master did the same. After a minute, he began filling a pair of water skins, then dunked his whole head and long hair into the stream. When he picked it back up and pulled the soaking blond locks from his face, he noticed that Bandit had backed away.

"What is it, boy?" He stroked the horse's nose gently. The faint, sharp sound of a snapping twig caught his ear, but he knew better than to turn. Casually, he walked to Bandit's side as if to remount. His fingers wrapped around the handle of his short sword.

His assailant leapt from the high branches of a nearby tree, trying to land squarely on Jonathor's back, but the young warrior was ready. As the dark, heavy form made contact, Jonathor twisted, causing the attacker's own momentum to throw him to the stream.

Jonathor whirled, sword at the ready. He saw a stocky, furred form scrambling to its feet and out of the water. It turned to the warrior and hissed, its mouth full of stained, decayed teeth.

"Troll..." said Jonathor in a low hiss of his own. The troll jumped at him, only to miss as Jonathor dodged at the last instant. Jonathor swung the sword upwards, and the troll raised its arms, apparently familiar with what a human with a sword would do. But not what Jonathor would do. Seeing the feint successful, he twirled the sword in his hand and threw it with all his strength at the repulsive creature. The blade flew straight, and struck the thing in the chest, pinning it to a nearby tree.

He walked up to the limp creature and pulled his sword from it. A shrill sound came from behind him. Another troll, uglier than its companion, swung a heavy mace at Bandit. Jonathor ran, but the horse proved as resourceful as its master, kicking hard with his hind legs at the troll, crushing its chest and sending it to the ground in a heap. Jonathor patted Bandit in appreciation.

The sound of slow clapping broke the moment. Jonathor turned back to the stream, his soulsword now drawn and gleaming. A pale, thin being stood amidst the waters. Its robes were dark gray, its ears were pointed and it wore a mask. The mask at first seemed a perfect replica of a human skull, but a closer look revealed it was no replica. At its narrow waist was a rope belt from which hung a knife of sharpened stone. Its eyes were a blood red.

Jonathor walked towards it, unafraid. "So," he said coolly, "a dark elf. What are you doing in the company of trolls?"

"I bring an offer to thee, warrior."

"What have you that I could possibly desire?"

"Why, power, of course. Strength, immortality, anything thou wishest. My... master..." The elf paused, almost choking on the word. "My master is a powerful magician, and could grant thee anything."

"And in return, elf?"

The thin form walked onto the shore. "Pledge thy fealty to him, and do his will. Thou wouldst make a most formidable servant."

Jonathor leveled his sword at the elf, who flinched from it just a little. "What are you called, dark elf?"

"I am Rage, warrior, and thou canst hurt me not with thy weapon."

"You are an elf, are you not? Are elves not anathema of iron?" He flicked the blade a bit, but Rage only moved towards a nearby tree.

"Aye, warrior, but thou couldst only harm me if I were truly here." The elf swiped his hand at the tree, and the limb passed through it, as if made of mist.

Jonathor came closer. "Tell your master he'll get nothing from me but defeat. An iron blade might not hurt your form, but this is a soulsword, and enough to send you back most quickly... and most painfully." With that, he swung the glittering sword through the ghostly form, causing it to glow and swirl around, as if caught in a whirlwind. Rage cried out in pain until the apparition vanished.

The young warrior replaced his soulsword in its scabbard. He patted Bandit. "I would take that as a sign we are indeed on the right path. But we have yet to meet our mysterious ally." He walked again to the stream to take a last draught, but found the water made fetid by the touch of both the troll and the dark elf. Jonathor mounted up on Bandit, and headed back towards the heart of the kingdom.

**********

Lady Jessamyn, too, had found herself tired under the oppressive heat of the season, and she rode with her heavier clothing draped across the front of her saddle. She and Iris were traveling down a lonely stretch of road when a sudden sun shower broke. She raised her head to the sky, letting the cool droplets wash away her weariness. Jessamyn ran her hands through her fiery tresses, loosening her braids and gratefully letting her hair free.

Soon, the rain began coming down in earnest, and she found herself beginning to get soaked, so she led her horse off under the nearby trees. Suddenly agitated, Iris began to neigh and shake her head. Jessamyn petted her, trying to calm the horse. "Easy, easy girl..."

She stopped suddenly. The ground beneath her boots trembled slightly, just enough for her to notice through her magickal connection to the earth. When the dark shape came at her from the trees, she was ready. It launched itself at her, and she turned towards it, her hands outstretched. The metal on her gauntlets glowed briefly, and a blaze of brilliant light flowed from her fingers. The eldritch power touched the leaping troll, who was instantly sent sprawling to the ground, smoking and still.

Its companion came rushing at her from further away. Jessamyn knelt and placed a hand on the ground. She whispered a quick spell, and the troll stopped short, its waist wrapped in a suddenly living root of one of the surrounding trees.

A second later, a second wooden tendril forced its way through the soil, wrapping itself around its throat. A third anchored its leg. Another its arm. Several more followed. They sprang from the ground, lashing themselves around the troll's body. The arms, under Jessamyn's control, crushed the life from it. That done, the roots returned to the earth as the sorceress gave silent thanks to the trees.

Jessamyn returned to Iris. She heard the scraping of feet approaching from the dirt road and she whirled, brandishing her broadsword. Standing on the edge of the trees was a pale elfin figure in dark blue robes. It seemed heavier, stockier than most elves. It was bald, and had a dark goatee, and its eyes were the cold blue-grey color of untempered steel. The dark elf studied Jessamyn before speaking.

"Is it your turn now?" she said, and her gauntlets again began to glow.

"Hold thy sword, sorceress, and thy tongue whilst I speak. I bring thee greetings from my master. He wishes to make thee an offer."

"An offer of what, elf?"

"Of anything thou desirest, milady. Wealth, position... physical pleasure..." The dark elf leered.

Jessamyn glared at him. "In exchange for my loyalty, and my service, is that it?"

He nodded. "Quite right," he said, then continued. "In any case, milady, allow me to introduce myself. I am called Zin, and..."

"You may save the pleasantries, dark elf. Return to your master and tell him to prepare for his downfall."

She stepped up to the thin form. "Alas," Zin sighed, "thou canst not touch me to send my away, milady."

In response, Jessamyn raised her hands, the accents of her gauntlets glowing bright. She reached out... and grasped Zin's form by the shoulders and tore it in two. A cry escaped the dark elf's image as it winked from existence.

Jessamyn raised herself back into Iris' saddle. "It seems, girl, that we've made this wizard a little bit afraid. It won't be the first time, he can be sure. Now, to find that hero."

TO BE CONTINUED...

NEXT: "DESTINY"