CHAPTER 4

Welcorgs, Assemble!

Octobre 31, 5599

Maidawn awoke many hours later, gasping at the memory of what had happened, and sat up quickly in bed, only to fall back onto her pillow feeling dizzy. She lay there for a couple of minutes, head spinning, trying not to throw up. As her queasiness settled down, she started thinking about the swords and what had happened up on her hill. She did not know what exactly had occurred, only that she had felt something rise up inside her and explode outward. Maidawn understood now that it had been very powerful magic, some kind of magic that she had been born with. She never realized quite what it was before, although she had known that there had always been something there.

I wonder why I have this inside me, she questioned. How did I get this? Is this something that all humans have? Or is this power unique to just me?

She touched her stomach and chest, feeling all around, but could not locate the magic. Determining that she had not been hurt by the lightning or the magic by rubbing her hands up and down her body, Maidawn let out a sigh and sat up on the edge of her bed, bracing herself with her arms. When she touched her head, she found that her hair was still damp. Finally, she stood up from her bed to find her legs a bit wobbly. She took a couple of tentative steps, and then made her way around the small room, each step feeling more normal. Maidawn noticed that Betishine had taken her wet clothes and laid out a clean and dry set on the end of her bed. She slowly got dressed and left her room.

Maidawn stepped out into the hallway, and the smell of ravvit stew made her realize how hungry she was. She looked out a window and understood why. She had slept through the midday meal. She determined by the position of the two setting suns and the darkening sky, it was almost time for supper.  Maidawn rubbed her empty stomach and continued down the hallway.

When Maidawn walked into the kitchen, Betishine turned, put down the stirring spoon she was holding beside a bubbling pot, and approached Maidawn.

Wrecker, who had left his sister’s room a bit ago, jumped up and ran to her, rubbing his head on her knee, letting her know how much he had worried about her. Maidawn reached down and scratched his head between his ears. The tiny welcorg let out a moan of pleasure.

“Are you feeling all right, Dear?” she asked with a worried look on her face, giving her daughter a good sniff.

Maidawn straightened and nodded, “Yes, I think so. I don’t seem to be hurt.”

“You gave us quite a scare,” Betishine said, bumping foreheads with Maidawn. “When Zift brought you down off the hill, we all thought you’d had hurt yourself, or worse, practicing with your new swords.”

“They won’t hurt me. They were made to protect me,” Maidawn said with a slight grin. “They told me so.”

“They . . . told . . . you?” Betishine asked slowly, confused. “What do you mean? How could something not alive tell you anything? Are you saying that those swords are alive?”

Maidawn thought about this as she leaned against the counter, folded her arms across her chest, and replied, “In a way . . . I guess. I’m not quite sure. I know their names are Jati and Torrid, and they said that they were forged with me in mind. But I don’t know much more beyond that. I don’t think they are alive in the same way that you and I are. But they do seem to be able to talk to me. It may be magic.”

“I see,” Betishine said, frowning. She turned back to the bubbling pot of stew and started stirring it as she thought about what Maidawn had just told her. Finally, she said, “Well, either way, I’m glad you’re safe. Why don’t you go outside and tell Angustus and Zift that it’s almost time to eat.”

“Yes, Mother,” Maidawn said while heading toward the door that led outside.

As Maidawn was about to leave the cottage, she heard one of the welcorgs howl a warning, and she froze in her tracks, just as she had been taught. She turned her head and looked at her mother, who just shrugged in response. Betishine reached down and grabbed Wrecker by the scruff of his neck, not wanting him to run outside into an unknown danger.

Zift charged into the cottage and almost knocked Maidawn down. “Excuse me, Maidawn,” he said side-stepping around her. “Oh hey, you’re awake. Wait until you hear this.” He turned Betishine. “Mother, a human is outside! And she is riding on a unicorn!”

Zift practically bounced on his feet in excitement. He turned around and charged back outside.

Betishine dropped the spoon she was holding and looked out the kitchen window, still holding on to Wrecker, who wanted to run outside. Maidawn went over and joined her mother there, standing on her toes to see better. They saw a woman astride a grey unicorn trotting into the village. The woman wore a long green hooded robe, and she rode sidesaddle-style, but without any saddle at all, perched on the bare back of her mount.

When the unicorn stopped, the woman gingerly slid off the left side of her mount and stood up. She clutched a mage’s staff in her right hand. She leaned back as if to stretch her aching back and then took a couple of tentative steps toward the head of the unicorn.

Betishine noticed that the visitor walked with a slight limp.

The woman drew back her cowl, faced the unicorn, and whispered something. The unicorn’s ears went up and the animal nodded in understanding. The unicorn whinnied, reared up, blew a couple of intricate notes through the horn on its head, pivoted on its rear legs, and galloped back out of the village. The welcorgs lets out a couple of barks and then turned their eyes back to the human in their midst.

The woman appeared to be in her early forties, with long, straight blonde hair that was almost white. She had tied her hair back into a ponytail using a green strap. Her dark green robe went almost all the way down to the ground. It was cinched around her waist with a golden sash. A small leather bag, which was covered in strange symbols, hung off her sash on her left side. The staff she held was twisted and gnarly. It had a large sapphire gemstone on top of it that radiated a blue, pulsing glow.

The welcorgs quickly surrounded her, their hackles up, and the woman turned in a circle until she was facing Angustus, as if she somehow knew he was the leader of the village.

“Greetings, welcorgs. I’m Alizabet the Enchantress, and I mean you no harm,” the woman said, raising her other hand, which was empty. “I have traveled quickly over a great distance on the back of my dear friend, Greystar.” She paused as if debating what to say next. “I’ve been on a quest for many years, looking for something, and my search has always seemed to be a fruitless one.”

Alizabet looked around, took a couple of steps, limped her way to an old tree stump a short distance away, and gingerly sat down. She sighed contentedly, as if the pain in her hip had lessened.

The welcorgs surrounding her seemed to relax as well, just a bit. The woman appeared a lot less threatening now that she wasn’t standing. Their hackles went down, but they still all stood, bodies tense, ready to attack if there was a need. Their eyes never strayed from the visitor.

“Do you have any food and water for a weary traveler?” Alizabet asked tiredly.

Angustus looked her over while he slowly approached her, on guard against anything this stranger might do. Zift noticed that his father’s back was tense, as if he were ready to attack if he felt at all threatened.

Alizabet froze, knowing better than to make a rash move. So, she just sat there looking at the large welcorg slowly approaching her.

Angustus got within a few inches of her face, growled and took a big sniff, taking in her essence. A welcorg’s nose is sensitive to many things, including dark magic, evil intentions, and of course, body odor. He did not smell the stench of any of these things on this woman, or anything that would worry him or cause a threat to the village. Angustus did sense magic within her, but he seemed to know that the magic she carried was not used for nefarious purposes.

Can she be trusted? he thought. Angustus looked her up and down, took a few more sniffs around her, taking in her entire essence. He gave a slight nod to himself. Yes, I believe she can be trusted.

“You may dine with my family,” he said abruptly, turned around, and headed toward his cottage. He looked back at her and said, “We will eat now,” as he walked toward his home. He let out a couple of sharp yips.

The welcorgs surrounding the enchantress understood and instantly relaxed their guard. Some turned back to what they had been doing moments before, while others either sat down or remained standing, looking Alizabet over.

In the cottage, with a final heave, Wrecker tore loose from his mother’s hold and raced outside. Betishine called out after him, but he ignored her. He needed to see what was going on out there. He swerved around his father and skidded to halt beside his big brother. Zift looked down at him and gave him a little shove. Wrecker tried to shove him back, but Zift didn’t budge.

Alizabet knew that she had passed some sort of test. She looked at the retreating back of the leader of this group of welcorgs and said, “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Zift let out a bark and turned to followed his father inside, thinking that his brother would follow him.

Wrecker, on the other hand, needed to investigate for himself. After all, he was the second son of the leader of Whails and he thought himself to be quite brave. He bounded up to the human female and also took a big sniff. Unfortunately for him, he got a little to close and inhaled a couple of unicorn hairs from Alizabet’s robe into his nostrils. He sneezed rather loudly, and then did it again and again. Finally, the offending hairs shot out of his nose, whereupon he leaned forward and licked the woman’s hand. Alizabet smiled, reached out with her free hand, and scratched his neck.

Wrecker sat down and found himself enjoying the wonderous sensation.

Betishine stood at the window watching all of this. Seeing that Wrecker was just going to sit there, apparently forever, getting some attention, she called out, “Wrecker, come on now. Time for supper. Aren’t you hungry?”

Wrecker’s ears flew up, he let out an excited bark, turned, ran around in a few circles, and then zoomed back to his cottage, flying in the kitchen door at break-neck speed.

Alizabet smiled as she stood, groaned with pain, and limped toward the cottage, using her staff as a cane. Riding on the unicorn for hours had been very painful, especially at the pace and distance they had traveled. She was stiff, and definitely sore, from the journey.

She stood there for a moment wondering about the magic that had drawn her there. She knew that welcorgs didn’t have magic, so she was confused as to what exactly had drawn her to this small welcorg village. I wonder what I will find inside this village, she thought. Hopefully, they help me discover the object that I seek.