This “Part 2” follows the previous short story labeled “Story of Gander: Part 1”.
The Mountains of Alter Link to heading
A lone wolf left its den and climbed upon a small stone plateau. It looked at the night sky and focused upon the full moon beset by some dark clouds that had decided to not obscure it at the current moment in time. And then it howled. Another night in the territory of wolves in the mountain range had begun.
The wolf then peered at its surroundings, and noticed a hooded figure slowly walking upon a path that swirled around the stone platform the wolf was sitting upon. The figure kept a quarterstaff at hand as a walking stick. And yet, something seemed odd about this sight. The wolf kept staring at the figure, transfixed by some eerie feeling that something was not quite right about this individual’s appearance, and thus had forgotten to stalk the figure for intruding upon its territory.
A brown belt with pockets. Brown leather clothing. A brown hood that obscured the wearer’s face. And the quarterstaff that was slightly blue. The wolf realized the odd thing was the staff. It wasn’t made of wood or stone. As the figure walked by the stone plateau the wolf was sitting upon, the wolf could see that the staff was not quite solid. Upon closer inspection, the details of the path could be seen through the staff itself. It was almost like looking through water.
The wolf realized the figure was intruding upon its territory. It jumped down to a spot several paces ahead of the figure, turned around, and starting growling intensely at the figure. The figure merely stopped and observed the wolf.
“Easy there..”
The wolf kept on growling, not appreciating the attempt at peace from the unknown figure. It slowly paced around the figure until they found themselves between the wolf and the rocky plateau; the figure was cornered.
“I wonder…”
The figure merely lifted up a hand, a palm stretched outward with thumb pointed inward.
Immediately the wolf whined and darted away into the shadows.
…
Gander found himself facing a wolf, back to a stone wall. He kept on thinking of options to take, slowly and calmly discarding ideas that wouldn’t fare well. And then a fey idea came upon him. This land, if it were territory of the ones hunting him and the ones he were hunting… He remembered a drawing of the “Hand with an Eye”, and held out a palm in the exact same pose as the drawing. And at this sight, the wolf fled immediately.
“This confirms it.”
A chance idea caused a wolf to flee and gave Gander insight that such a pose was common yet uncommon in these lands.
Just then, a cloud began to obscure the full moon, and his staff slowly faded away.
It was a bit of luck that the moon happened to be full that night, and yet unluck for the presence of clouds in the sky. And so, Gander decided to step back a few paces to rest his back against the rock wall to wait for the moon to return when a sharp object cut into his back.
Gander yelped, and jumped forward into a roll, and unsheathed a dagger from his side, now facing the rock wall where an adversary stood.
There was a cackling from the black-clad figure.
“The poison will send you into eternal slumber soon. We’ll make good use of your face. It’s too bad you won’t experience any of that, but may your dreams become nightmares…”
Gander let his free hand try to touch the wound upon his back. And recoiled at how sharp the pain was when he felt the stab wound. He sniffed his fingers. The scent of blood, and a scent of some foul concoction. He already was starting to feel drowsy, but kept his guard up, dagger in his left hand held in a defensive reverse position.
He considered his options again, but time was racing against him. And then the moon shone upon the land once more.
…
“I don’t understand. Is this not the Elemental Dungeon, where Water, Wind, Earth, and Fire can be mastered?”
Gander was conversing with the stone guard at the dungeon’s entrance, not long after having left the scene of death.
“This is a secret handed down to me for a situation such as this. A prophecy of sorts was told to me that one day a man will find death and seek light to vanquish the darkness. And so I bequeath this tome unto you.”
Gander held a book in his hand that had an unmarked cover. He opened it to the first page, and then light exploded around him.
He looked up, and it was night-time, and the stone guard was still there.
“How..”
“You are a quick reader. I am sorry, but a hex was put upon that book to force anyone to open it to read it fully. But luckily for you, this particular tome has knowledge of something greater than the Elements.”
“But I am already cursed. Common magick is beyond me. It is partially the reason why I summon items for tasks before me.”
“Recall what you have read. This is more than just “common magick”.”
Gander gasped. He sat down and pondered what he had just learned.
“I would like for you to return the tome to me, for I am its guardian and will only reveal such a secret to those who need it the most, for there are more than one such prophecy for those in need. And you certainly need such knowledge right now. I am sorry I have forced you to lose time, but it was necessary.”
“Remember this tome well. For they say “May the light shine upon you”, and with this knowledge, it most certainly will be at your beck and call wherever there is light.”
…
The black-clad figure in the night watched Gander apprehensively. It was strange that the brown-hooded figure he stabbed was staring at the full moon. The black-clad figure looked at the moon and did not notice anything strange, so they looked back at the brown figure and saw nothing. The brown figure was gone without a trace. The black-clad figure gasped, and walked forward to where the brown one was only to find no trace of anything.
After a short amount of time, the black-clad figure sighed, and walked towards the stone wall and through it and into it the black-clad figure disappeared.
Gander reappeared not that long after, but was bent over with pain shooting through him. He was starting to feel numb in some parts of his body. He slowly but surely crept to the side of the rocky structure. He felt the rock and found where there was a false surface, but did not enter. He merely found a side of the structure that was solid, and decided to sit facing his back towards the solid side of the rock. Then, he pulled out an object from one of his pockets; a small black flower bud that had yet to bloom.
“A cure, but another curse to the list…” Gander muttered as he contemplated the black flower bud in his hand. It was a flower bud from a plant known as “Halt Weed”. Those poisoned by it would have trouble recollecting things and would “halt” for extended periods of time to attempt to remember what was forgotten. But its potency was revered by apothecaries for its use as a panacea against most dark poisons.
“..May the light shine upon us all..”, muttered Gander as he raised the black flower bud to pop into his mouth when the flower bud started to open up. He gasped as it bloomed in his hand, revealing a fully bloomed flower with streaks of black upon white and the center of which had the color of yellow.
Gander recalled the tome: “Some words beckon the power of the light, but will only take effect if light is present.”
He looked up, and the full moon was lighting up the night sky. He looked at the bloomed flower in his hand and was considering what to do. He decided to pluck a petal from the flower and popped it into his mouth and swallowed. He immediately felt warmth and no longer felt numb. He plucked more petals and swallowed them as well until none were left. He was cured.
Gander paused for a long moment, attempting to constantly remember things about his past. And he didn’t forget anything. Instead he remembered something he had once wished to forget…
…
A kid with a basket of clams was walking from the beach to a village he could see in the distance. He was thinking about some phrases that the elders were chanting during their prayers, and wondered what some of the words meant. He knew better than to chant them out loud, otherwise a repeat of what happened to another kid might happen to him; demonic possession. He reached the village and headed towards the restaurant that would purchase clams from the kid at a ridiculously low cost, but as long as he could afford food, he didn’t care.
He reached the hut in question and began to exclaim that he got a good haul when he noticed everyone was passed out and unconscious. A bit of panic jumped up in the kid’s heart as he looked around. He dropped his basket and ran to the priest’s altar.
There was a man in black holding a blood-stained knife in one hand, and the neck of a village priest in the other. The kid screamed at him to let his father go. But the man cackled and raised his knife. The kid then shut his eyes closed and started chanting the scariest phrase he remembered. And all went dark.
He looked up, and time was still. White was black, black was white, and colors were faded into gray. And there was a spirit that descended upon the scene and touched the man in black on the top of his head. The spirit then looked at the boy and began to speak.
“You who spoke my name in desperation, you will be a summoner who cannot summon commonly, for you called for me, the one who always betrays those who call upon me. And yet I will allow you a respite from your punishment, because you did not know that your priests were cultists, and you did not know what you were speaking were foul words. Your actions were heinous, but your heart was in the right place. And for that, I will curse you with lack of power over spirits common. Should you summon me again, you will most certainly die. But know that your curse has been held back because of your desperation and your will to save another’s life from someone else’s hand. Should you find the light, perhaps this curse can become your blessing…”
Suddenly, the spirit was gone, white was as white, and black was as black, and the colors of everything returned to how they were. The man in black fell backwards as stiff as wood, and the village priest was choking for breath at his feet.
The boy was terrified, and could not speak that day. No one dared to ask what had happened or for more details, because the priest merely said that the boy spoke the worst possible thing to save his life.
…
Gander woke up.
“Was it still night?”
He could not see very well in the darkness, but when he reached forward with his hand, the things that obscured the sky receded to the ground. They were vines thick with leaves, and once they all fell to the side, Gander could see it was morning, and the vines hid him from view. And the vines themselves were black as night but with tendrils of white every other spot. Halt Weed.