Chapter III

The Assassin’s Assault

            Archaon rushed through the busy streets bumping into almost as many people as he dodged as he tried to find Tristana.  He stopped by a farmer selling yams, ginger root, and red radishes from a rackety wooden stall and asked, “Have you seen a girl slightly taller than myself, brown hair, and in a white linen garb like this?” Archaon indicated to his white robe from the wardrobe in his room, but the farmer gave him a quizzical look and went back to his business without a word. Archaon kicked the packed dirt out of frustration, but is merely hurt his toes, penning up more anger inside his rushing head. “Where is she, he said to himself? He rushed passed more villagers, and then stumbled to a halt trying to prevent bashing into a person slowly walking ahead of him. The person’s head was lowered probably scanning the ground for pools of “Muck water”; this person was wearing a tall pointed hat with a wide brim; just like the hat on the head wizard. But this one was dark blue with the phases of the moon encircling the base of the cone right above the wide brim, Archaon was in no mood for quaint introductions, so he just blurted out,” Have you seen a girl slightly taller than myself with long brown hair, and wearing a white garb like this?” The person looked up at him the brim of the hat revealing Tristana’s face. Archaon sighed with relief. “Do you like it?” Tristana indicated to her new hat with an innocent grin. He could not resist a smile at her childish but genuine excitement. “It is past mind-evening; we will have to hurry to make it back to the castle before dark,” Archaon said. They headed southward with the sun setting to there right. Soon it was dark,

It was a moonless night and the stars’ light was smothered by hazy clouds. Archaon thought he heard a faint whispering to his left; he looked a Tristana, “Did you hear that?” Tristana cocked her head and frowned. Then looking past Tristana he was a reddish glow illuminating some pinewoods that hadn’t been there before. Seeing Archaon’s confused expression Tristana span her head around to see the reddish in glow was a orb of fire.  Suddenly the orb of fire shot towards them. Tristana reacted first; she slammed into Archaon knocking him to the ground, and then dove to the ground herself. The ball of fire missed them and charred a shrub near by, but then out of the woods stepped a tall figure cloaked in black robes, a hood covering his face. The figure seemed to be enveloped by a dark, misty shroud, and in his palm another ball of fire was forming. Archaon drew his dragon dagger in a flash and lunged at the ominous figure. But then a fully formed fire ball struck him charring his clothes and hurling him back. Tristana snatched the dagger, which had clattered to the ground a moment before. With striking speed she threw the dagger at the cloaked figure; mere inches for the figure the dagger froze in mid-air. The figure lifted his head, and Tristana saw a man’s face; a face that was deathly white with black markings streaking across the whiteness. Tristana went rigid at the sight of the man’s luminous, yellow eyes. The dagger still hovering in the air reversed its direction, and pointed at Tristana.  Suddenly the dagger shot forward like an arrow but Tristana ducked in the nick of time and the dagger loged its self in the charred shrub.

Tristana saw the dagger and was about to pry it from the bush but then the dagger quivered and vibrated for a second and then flew from the shrub into the evil figures out stretched hand.  The figure advanced towards Tristana the dagger raised above his head; he seemed to hover above the ground, never faltering in his step.  As he loomed above Tristana, prepared to strike, but then did he pause, as if sensing something.

Suddenly he drew in a haggard breath, then let it out and crumpled to the ground.

And there stood Calien Mac Burl, a bloodied claymore in his hands.

Follow me, I know the a way through these woods to the wizards castle” said Calien Mac Burl.

“Are you sure of your description?”  Asked the asked the head wizard.  “Yes, I am sure” answered Tristana.  The head wizard sighed “Very well then, off you go to bed now.  Master Mac Burl will you come here I wish to speak to you…”  Tristana did not like being excluded from the conversation and sent to bed like a young child and she lingered for a while until she feared she might provoke the head wizard to anger so she did as he said.  Archaon had, against his will, been sent to the infirmary for the night because of the minor burns he had received. But soon regretted having consented to staying in the place for the night because the healers were constantly applying fresh salves, bandages, pads and always arguing over which salve was most effective for burns; each healer trying to place his or her favorite salve and removing the previous one.  In the morning though after great persuasion he was finally released to his immense relief.  After a short time of his freedom a thought occurred to him, what should he do next?  As he pondered this he walked to the stone statue of the wizard in the courtyard with the four quadrants.  Archaon sat down on the rim of the clear ringlet of water that was at the base of the statue.  He found it pleasant sitting below the tall stone wizard his wide brimmed hat provided sufficient shade for his somewhat skinny body.  Archaon’s moment of relaxation was abruptly cut short when some one grabbed him by his tunic and started dragging him off to somewhere in the central part of the castle.  “And I cut in front of the others till I got to the very front of the line; only to find out I hadn’t cut in front of you!  Didn’t you hear a word the old man on the fancy chair said?  TOMORROW YOU WILL EACH SELECT YOUR OWN STAFF!  Now pick your lead feet up off the ground and RUN!  Archaon tried his best to keep up with Tristana but it was hard with her grabbing the back of his  tunic and pulling him forwards.  Tristana took him to a large building with a sign above the door depicting a staff, the last of the line had just entered and Tristana rushed through them with eager anticipation and Archaon followed.  The interior of the building was an old library as it appeared but now, every inch of shelves and walls had been lines with dozens of staffs.  Some staffs were wooden with a stone or jewel fixed to the top, others were made entirely of wood and on looked as it had been forged out of solid iron in a smithy.  Archaon supposed he should look for a staff the he liked, as others had already begun to do so.  He examined several staffs, one he took of a rack, it was a wooden one and at the top the wood divided and formed an intricate knot of twisting wood; But then out of the corner of his eye he saw a girl of a younger age than he was approach and upon seeing him with the staff in his hand became melancholy and downcast so out of sympathy he put the staff back.  For it was clear that she had taking a liking to the staff but gone on to make sure there no others that she would prefer and upon making a decision she had come back to take it for herself.  Archaon went on searching for “the perfect staff”.  After a while of looking, staring, gazing and of course, touching; he found a seemingly unorganized pile of staffs, he sifted through them trying to avoid banging them together as much as possible.  At the bottom of the pile he found a staff very similar to the one he had taken of the rack earlier except the wood seemed to have been beached a pale white, and at the top the wood divided into many segments that wrapped the lower part of a oval shaped crystal shard that had many different angles shaping it.  The light which came through the building entrance was absorbed by the crystal and projected out in many different directions.   “I was wondrin’ who would get that one” Said the man standing behind the desk at the entrance when he saw Archaon with the white Crystal headed staff.  Archaon was confused by this remark, and the man, clearly seeing this said, “That there staff you got yer’ self is a rare indeed.  You see normally when magic is made in a staff its made by the jewel, stone, or whatever thins’ on top or sometimes just in the staff  itself; But yours, the magic comes from both the staff and that crystal on top, probably comes together in the crystal as that has the greater magic out-put. Now take yer’ staff to old Finaes in the main courtyard so he can teach ya how to use it.