All creatures are created by the Universe, placed in a specific set of circumstances to assist in the intricate and ever expanding plan of life.

A critical key to succeeding is knowing your place and then standing in it.

Wendell jogged back, which surprisingly, took no effort at all. He was beginning to enjoy this new health and strength. The fog was quickly dissipating, now that the sun was high overhead. He found Gaidred and Altorin standing on either side of a ramp, watching the Prime Gate dutifully. It had been activated.

Its circular light hovered over the center of the platform. It was a hazy blue hue, with white blotches drifting in the background—like an animated oil painting. A dark grey strip stretched from mid-point to the bottom of the image.

Wendell found himself mesmerized. So much talk of Prime Gates, but he had yet to see one work, except through Tiell’s perspective. It was incredible. Even…beautiful.

Dax and Alhannah arrived next, huffing with exhaustion. They discovered a stack of small crates at the platforms base and pulled two over to sit on. Coughing and wheezing behind them stumbled Chuck. The wizard nearly collapsed, huffing and red-faced. With a poke of his staff, he confiscated Dax’s seat and plopped down like a sweaty sack of potatoes.

“You kids…are…mean,” he gasped, flustered.

Reaching into the sleeve of his robe, he pulled out a hand-held electric fan and held it in front of his face.

Wendell continued to stare as several birds flew up and hovered in the pulse of the portal window, flapping wings out of focus. He smiled. That’s a sky! In the distance, towers or domes, perhaps…buildings, or mountains?…huddled in clusters, perched on a darker, jagged landscape. Hints of green and browns swayed throughout. Trees, maybe?—bending in a wind he could neither hear, nor feel. For an instant, Wendell felt the strong urge to run past the Elders, and up the ramp. He wanted to touch the images, just to…know. He blinked as a spray of mist jumped through the rippling image and lightly covered his face.

He licked his lips. The liquid was sweet.

“The City of Many Waters,” said Altorin, seeing Wendell’s interest. “The home of the Evolu Lords.”

“It’s…incredible,” Wendell whispered, more to himself than to Altorin.

“It has been a long time since my people have been welcomed there. It is a…relationship I sorely miss.” The was a longing in the Elder’s voice.

“So why didn’t you go instead of Lamier?” Wendell asked.

Altorin lowered his gaze with an almost imperceptible shrug, “We opened the Gate without invitation. With such a bold action, we thought it wise to send a white robe into the Holy City.” He looked up and grinned, “Lamier volunteered to go to the Omethiä. He’s never visited before today.”

Wendell frowned, “The what?”

“The Omethiä,” repeated Gaidred, “The leader of the Evolu. You might call such a man a prophet, or perhaps a seer.”

“He’s a jerk with a power complex,” added Dax with a sneer. He quickly followed with, “We’ll keep watch until the King returns,” and immediately wandered across the field. Snatching up one of the long knives of the Vallen, which looked like a short sword in his oversized hands—Dax plopped down on a log and turned his back to the group.

Chuck stood up slowly and looked to Altorin, smiling weakly. “He’ll be fine.”

Alhannah silently followed Dax’s example and quietly wandered off—eventually settling on a rock facing the entrance to the valley.

The wizard stretched his arms and back with a loud yawn, then moseyed over to the campfire. He started rummaging through the enemy’s supplies.

“Nothing here to use,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Unless someone wants to try their luck at roasted villager.”

Wendell cringed. He avoided looking directly at the cook fire. He didn’t want to experience another panic attack. Looking between the two Elders, he then glanced over at Alhannah. She sat quietly, inspecting her armor and weapons.

“Dax likes the gnome,” Wendell said aloud, though it was more to himself, “…and there’s definitely some parent-child relationship between him and Chuck, I can see that, but…” he broke off.

“But?” Gaidred replied, his gaze following the young hero’s.

“I’m the odd man out,” Wendell complained, “the stranger, the outcast. I get the feeling I’ll never fit in or be accepted. I don’t know, maybe that’s crazy—but even you guys have to see how he reacts to me, don’t you? Explain to me why everything I do seems to tick Dax off to no end?”

Gaidred and Altorin exchanged expressions in silence. Wendell noticed the silent debate between them, which didn’t last long. They turned their attention back to the Gate without answering.

Wendell waited for a reply, but it didn’t come.

“You know something.”

The Elders kept their attention firmly on the sphere of lights.

“Please,” he pleaded with Altorin. Reaching out, he gripped the Elders shoulder and the Elder shifted uncomfortably in place. “I’m not asking you to betray secrets—I’m asking for some understanding. Maybe a better perspective, so I can do the job you’ve asked me to. Isn’t that fair?”

Instead of the smug, matter-of-fact expressions he’d learned to expect from Gaidred, or the mis-directing looks of the High Elder, Altorin appeared…sad. Eyebrows turned up, mouth in a frown and wide black eyes that looked closer to a wounded puppy than a human. Well,…Iskari, anyway.

Altorin opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, reconsidering his words.

“It is not our place to divulge the experiences of another.” He looked over his shoulder at Dax, standing in the distance, “…when they choose to hide their pain.”

Why do I even bother, Wendell thought, The letter was right…I really am on my own—and it’s about time I accept that I’ll have to figure all this out on my own. Even my relationships are an uphill battle! He started to turn, when Altorin grabbed his forearm firmly and held him fast.

“…but know that you are not the only one who feels the way you do.” The Elder held Wendell’s gaze for a moment, then nodded to see if the young hero understood.

Wendell didn’t understand, but he nodded anyway.

****

For two hours the group waited.

Each remained in their separate locations, watching the trees, watching the portal, listening to the wind. That is, except for old Chuck, who pulled a sleeping bag from his hat and threw it across the thickest patch of grass he could find. The wizard tossed and turned, snorting and grunting…with an occasional knee-jerk motion and a burst of “SNOCKHOCKEY!”

But no one came through the portal.

This is unnerving, thought Wendell, sitting up against the trunk of a large oak. We need to get out of Tämä-Un and out of sight…to get to this Til-Thorin the letter talks about. From time to time he watched the bodies of the slain Vallen, fearful that some of them might get back up. He let his head rest against the bark. The fog had vanished, completely revealing the magnificent mountains enveloping the small valley. The sound of chirping birds echoed through the trees.

Reaching into his back pocket, Wendell pulled out the letter. He held it between his fingers, rubbing the creased corners tenderly with a thumb. It’s you and me now.

He unfolded it.

As he did so, he noticed the creases fading and straightening out, the dark lines melting away until all that was left were the original two folds made. He frowned. That’s odd. He held the letter closer to his face and ran his finger along the paper. Hmph. Curious, he folded the upper corner of the letter and pinched it tight. He waited and watched. The letter quivered, the folded corner slowly lifting and leaning outward, until the crease faded and disappeared altogether.

Sure. Everything else is weird around me…why not a piece of paper.

He read the words to himself once more.

Trust no one but the Gem. Through her, you will learn the truth of all things. This is your only true protection. Listen to that inner voice that whispers to you. Not your own, but that voice which prompts you to do only what is right, what is true and just. Ithari cannot lie and she will not falter, so long as you serve her with a pure heart.

He let his head fall back against the tree. Without thinking, his hands gripped and crumpled the letter.

You can do this Wendell. People are counting on you. Now’s your chance to prove you’re more than what people think you are. He looked at his companions. His attention lingered on Alhannah. You need to be brave, like them. You need to be the Wendellizer. None of them knew what we’d find here, but they came anyway. He sighed, pulling his knees into his chest and letting his chin drop forward, resting on top. But I’m not brave. I don’t even know how to be brave! His shoulders slumped forward heavily. Just because I have super powers now doesn’t mean this is any easier. It was a depressing thought. All his life he’d been picked on, pursued and slapped around. Now he was expected to be far more than the average joe. His forehead sank forward until it rested on his knees. He could feel the strong heartbeat in his chest.

Tha-THUMP-thump! Tha-THUMP-thump!

He sat up.

Tugging at his collar, Wendell looked under his shirt at the Ithari. His fingers caressed the flat surface through the cloth. Ok,…maybe a little easier. But I can’t expect you to do everything, he thought, pretending Ithari could hear him. Hoping she did.

He concentrated and whispered, “Silmä inakmään,” and the gem vanished.

He looked over at the gnome perched on her rock. Hmmm, he thought.

Alhannah was staring at the mouth of the valley. She looked like a small warrior china doll, which had been propped up on a rock and forgotten by a child. The gnome was running a stone over one of her sword blades.

Wendell hastily folded the letter and shoved it back into his pocket. He hopped to his feet. It was time to change his circumstances. He wandered over to the gnome.

“Alhannah, may I…talk with you?” His hands dropped to his sides and slid behind his back, his feet turning inward. His eyes darted back and forth between the gnome and his sneakers. The smiley on his t-shirt turned red and bit its bottom lip.

She was a gnome, but it didn’t change the fact that Alhannah was, in truth, a girl. A very cute girl, to be precise, despite her psychopathic-aggressive tendencies. The rosy complexion and bright green eyes that glowed when she looked at you, created a powerful contrast to her fire red hair in tight pigtails. It was her eyes that transformed his initial impression of a child into a small woman. She had tiny, yet full, almost pouting, red lips and long dark eyelashes, perfectly set under curved, thin eyebrows.

She was as deadly as she was adorable.

Wendell wondered, If I can learn to speak with Alhannah, maybe it will help me with girls a bit…taller?

“Sure,” she said bluntly, spitting a loogey onto the grass beside her. “What’s up?”

Sitting himself uncomfortably on the rock, he scratched his head. “I,” he paused, not altogether certain how to ask, “was…wondering…if you would teach me…” he gulped, here I go… “to fight?”

The scraping of metal stopped. Alhannah looked up at Wendell, then turned her whole body around to face him. She studied him with a raised eyebrow.

“Why me?” she asked flatly. “Why not Dax? He is, after all, you’re guardian, isn’t he? I’m just the bodyguard.”

Wendell rolled his eyes, “Well, yes, but…he can’t stand me. No matter what I do, it’s always wrong.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Wendell…or Dax for that matter.”

Wendell frowned, “I’m not interested in talking about Dax right now.”

She held up a gloved hand, “Fine. Fine.”

Wendell swallowed uncomfortably. “I’ve watched you, Alhannah. How you use weapons, which I have to say is…kinda frightening. But you also fight for a living, don’t you?”

She nodded, resuming the strokes across her sword.

“So, I just thought, you know—that you might be willing to help me learn how to defend myself?”

She scratched her cheek with the stone, considering, a small grey streak appearing across her cheek. “I’m not sure I’m the right one to…”

“I don’t have a clue how to fight, Alhannah—at all. After the Black Market, now this, it’s obvious that I need to learn…something.”

“If you want to keep breathing, I’d think so,” she chuckled. She set the sword and stone next to her. Pulling off her gloves, Alhannah rubbed her hands together briskly. “Give me your palm.”

Nervously, Wendell did so.

Turning his palm up, she studied the lines and textures of his skin, her small fingers tracing the natural curves and creases down his long, slender fingers and over his knuckles. His hand dwarfed hers in comparison. It looked like an infant examining the hand of its parent. Her own skin was rough and calloused, which felt like sandpaper over his palm. At last she patted his palm and let his hand drop.

“You haven’t done a hard days work in your life,” she scoffed. “Your hands won’t look pretty like that if you want me to teach you. Training hurts you know. ”

Wendell shrugged, “Dying would hurt more.”

“Fair enough.”

“Please, Alhannah?”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’ll talk with Chuck and Dax and see what they think—though I’ll recommend we start something soon. However,” she paused, “—IF, for any reason, they say no, that’s it. We’re done, Wendell. You got that? I won’t go against them on any issue that doesn’t concern my own skin. Agreed?”

Wendell nodded and grinned wide, “Thanks.”

She smiled back, which was so cute it almost unnerved him. “No problem.”

“They return!” shouted Gaidred.

The party gathered around the Prime Gate, anxiously awaiting.

Elder Lamier stepped through—his white robes glowing in the morning light. Wendell noticed it looked a great deal like someone coming out of the water—though in a horizontal fashion. The Elder’s skin looked wet, his hair heavy and dark…until he moved free of the window. The liquid, or whatever it was, rolled back, off his skin and fell into the pool of the portal.

Lamier nodded to his brothers and stepped to the side. Wendell recognized him as the Elder who had brought the unusual plant on the night of Kyliene’s death. The plant had lifted and tenderly carried Elder Tiell from the park. Lamier stood quietly, hands in the sleeves of his robe—a small but distinguishable smile on his face.

The next to walk through the blurry image was a tall, broad man. Definitely human, Wendell thought. He had a thick grey and black beard that swallowed the lower half of his face. He wore chain mail around his barrel chest, with a dark brown leather vest and trousers. His forearms were also wrapped in dark leather, ending in thick gloves. A giant two-handed claymore hung from his back.

“King Robert,” welcomed Gaidred with a respectful bow, “welcome home, sire.”

“Elder Gaidred, always a pleasure,” replied the King with a grin. Striding down the ramp, he clasped Gaidred’s forearm in a firm grip.

Wendell was a little startled to see the King spin and grasp the shorter Elder by the shoulders, pulling him into a hug. King Robert laughed out loud, “Altorin! Good to see you, my friend!”

The Elder grinned back, seemingly embarrassed. “My heart warms to see you safe, Your Highness.”

Wendell suddenly found himself holding his breath. A beautiful raven haired woman strode gracefully through the portal. Leaf green and earth toned leather wrapped her lithe figure. The leather was cut in strips to resemble layered leaves about her shoulders and down her tunic. Her long and supple figure peaked out from under a flowing green cloak, draped around her shoulders. Her complexion was the color of cream, with evenly set almond shaped eyes of egyptian blue and thin red lips upturned at the corners. She stepped forward, stopping at the top of the ramp.

Wow, she is so…

“Psst,” whispered Alhannah, poking Wendell.

“What?” he whispered back.

The gnome whispered between muffled giggling. “Your shirt’s making googily-eyes at the brunette.”

“Wha—?” Wendell looked down to see red hearts, floating across the black cloth on his chest. His face immediately flushed red and he flung his arms around his shirt. I should have invested in a hoodie!

Behind the Evolu maiden emerged seven hooded figures, dressed in identical brown and green outfits. They stepped through in pairs, side by side. Like floating shadows, they came into focus and fanned out behind her. Each of the Evolu carried long bows, quivers strapped to their backs and long knives sheathed upon either hip. The last male walked through and took his place by the side of the maiden. The portal behind them faded as the gate silently closed.

Wendell didn’t exactly know what a king was supposed to act like, but he was moderately sure it wasn’t like King Robert III. The large man laughed and grinned like he didn’t have a care in the world. He and Altorin conversed, laughing and nudging one another as they did so. The King looked more like the jovial uncle who finally stumbled his way into the family Christmas party. Wendell was guessing that he had to be in his late sixties, what with a thinning grey hairline—though what hair he did have was thick and fell down below his jaw line. Deep wrinkles sprouted around dark brown eyes, which were clear and observant. His movements showed youth and vigor, which reminded Wendell of the old wizard.

But there was something else…

Wendell blinked several times, thinking it was just an illusion, but around the Kings head and neck was a faint purple halo. Wendell felt his pulse quicken and for a brief moment, thought he heard…giggling.

Then the Kings gaze rested upon Wendell.

For a moment, King Robert’s facial expressions froze—the smile still etched upon his face. Eyes dipped and rose, studying Wendell, including the odd smily face of his shirt. He said nothing. He simply continued to smile.

It made Wendell deeply uncomfortable.

What’s…wrong? Why…is he staring at me like that? Not sure what to do, Wendell abruptly bowed at the waist, nearly falling forward onto his face.

Oh I hope I didn’t mess this up! No one told me I was supposed to bow…or am I supposed to kneel? Crap.

Everyone fell silent. All eyes resting upon the young hero.

Wendell tried with all his might not to fidget, waiting for permission to rise. Nervous, he kept his head low, avoiding eye contact. Did I bow low enough? Am I supposed to say something? Why doesn’t anyone HELP me!?? Crap—I probably look like a nut job to him, dressed in jeans and sneakers. This has to be long enough of a bow, even for the Queen of England…doesn’t it??

Slowly, Wendell took a chance and stood upright—though he held his breath while doing so. He was ready to drop to one knee at the first sign of his screwup. He looked up at the King. The purple glow was still there, pulsing out from his head and shoulders.

Without a word, the King bowed, even lower…to Wendell.

The Evolu maiden and several of her guards gasped out loud.

“Well I’ll be,” whispered Dax. Alhannah smirked.

“May I introduce…Lord Wendell, your Highness,” said Gaidred quickly, “a…ward of the Iskari High Council.”

The King stood upright, looking directly into the face of a very shocked and confused young Wendell. Cocking his head to the side, the King grinned again, this time showing his teeth. “Is he now.”

“Hello Bobby-boy,” Chuck said, cutting in front of Wendell and opening his arms wide. He left his staff floating next to him.

Without hesitating, the King quickly enveloped the wizard in his powerful arms. He rocked slightly from side to side, “I’ve missed you, father.”

“You eating right?” asked Chuck, releasing the King and taking a step back.

“Yes, Chuck.”

“They treated you with respect—those pointy…”

“Chuck, please…I was well cared for.”

“Sleeping better?”

“Much.”

The wizard squinted at King Robert with a grin, “Got a sweetheart yet?”

King Robert rolled his eyes.

“Hey, what am I—road kill?” grunted Dax.

The King stepped back abruptly. “I must say, this is quite the welcoming party!” Snapping to attention, he placed his gloved hand over his heart. “Dax, you are always welcome in my kingdom, old friend.”

The troll nodded slightly as he puffed on his cigar, “Bob.”

“And young Alhannah Luckyfeller…always a pleasure, my dear. Höbin is well I pray?”

Alhannah gave a sarcastic grin to a dumbfounded Elder Gaidred. “My father is wonderful,…as always.”

The King stared at her curiously, placing a gloved finger to his lips, “I believe you’ve grown since I saw you last, young lady.”

Alhannah curtsied in her armor proudly, clinking as she did so. “Almost an inch!” she said enthusiastically.

Everyone laughed. The gnome blushed.

“Thank you, daughter of the Evolu,” said Elder Lamier, “—we must hurry now, to escort the King to Til-Thorin. We will reopen the gate for your return.”

“That will not be necessary,” replied the lady, stepping down from the ramp and taking her place by the Kings side. “The Rook have been commissioned by the Omethiä to see King Robert III safely escorted to the capital of Andilain.” She looked sternly between the Iskari, “Until such time, where he goes—we follow.”

“Elders,” interrupted Robert, “may I introduce the Lady Tamorah, granddaughter of the Omethiä…and Rook Master.”

Gaidred hesitated and then bowed. “Your help will be most appreciated, Lady Tamorah. The enemy will eventually discover our actions here and we should be as far away as possible. Unfortunately, a group this size will make us easier to track.”

Wendell felt chills down his spine as the conversation blurred. He slowly turned around, staring up at the mountains surrounding them. Something’s not right. He felt strength coursing through his legs and he felt ready, willing…even eager, to sprint away from the Prime Gate. It was then that he heard it again.

Giggling.

Wendell looked at each in the group. Some of the Rook’s faces were shrouded in hoods, but they were too far away. The sound was near. Uncomfortably close. In his mind. Other’s were engaged in the conversation or listening quietly. No one was laughing or even had a jovial expression on their face.

Where is it coming from? The voice sounded high-pitched, giddy…and young.

A child’s voice.

Am I just hearing things? No one else seemed to be reacting to the sound. Wendell decided not to mention it.

King Robert gave a momentary glance at Wendell, then turned back to Gaidred. “What do you suggest, master strategist?”

“We should seal the gate, for now, to prevent further tampering until the land is rid of this invading plague. Your first line of defense, of course, is Til-Thorin—so we must travel swiftly. Lamier will return and report to the High Council. With your permission, sire, Altorin and I will accompany you, for there is much information we have to share.”

“Your counsel is appreciated,” replied the King.

While the three Elders worked their magic upon the black spires of the Gate, King Robert used the large rock Alhannah had sat upon. From a side pouch, under his cloak, the King produced a scroll and unrolled it.

“If these beasts are in my lands, then we must make haste to Til-Thorin and send riders to the lords of the land for reinforcements. If they seek war upon the humans…it is war they shall have.”

Wendell shuffled up behind them. The scroll was a map of a mountain range and dozens of valley’s.

“Gaidred’s right, Bob,” said Dax, tracing his finger along a dotted line up the map, “there’s too many of us. We might as well strap targets to our backs. We can’t move about effectively without being noticed.”

“Then we should split up,” replied Alhannah, “and we should take the least direct route, just to make sure.”

“Make sure of what?” Wendell asked.

“Make sure we steer clear of the invading forces,” answered Chuck. “We need to take odd paths to the Keep. Get there in one piece, instead of following in the enemy’s wake. If we take the common routes, there’s a good chance of bumping into the enemy along the way. But can we get there first?”

Dax scoffed, “Let the pointy-ears and blueberries take Bob wherever he needs to go. We have our own business to take care of.”

“And what business would that be?” asked Lady Tamorah cooly.

Dax looked up at her and sneered, but said nothing.

The King looked mildly between them, then went back to studying the map.

There seemed to be a particular interest on the part of the Evolu, when it came to Dax. The troll walked away—Chuck and Alhannah close behind. The Rook’s attention followed Dax, hoods turning to his every motion. Even the Lady Tamorah seemed drawn to Wendell’s guardian, though she tried to hide her lingering stares behind her long, silken hair.

What’s the deal? Wendell wondered. Do they hate the thought of a troll in the party? Why didn’t the Elders defend him? Or Chuck, or… They don’t have the slightest idea what Dax is doing for the world. Dax would never tell them, either. On the other hand, he seemed completely oblivious to the attention he was getting. He was focused on another scroll he’d rolled out for the wizard and gnome to look at. Wendell found himself more than a little irritated at the Evolu’s behavior.

Within the hour, Lamier walked through a distorted image of Sanctuary and the gate closed. Working from spire to spire, Gaidred and Altorin wove spells to hide the markings from view altogether.

Wendell smirked to himself.

Yup—that would be the Silmä inakmään spell.

He looked around, nodding without a sound, but no one was paying any attention.

….I know that spell. Mägo in training here.

The black claws looked cold and haunting, jutting out lifelessly from the stone platform.

“It is done,” said Gaidred.

“We will travel in three parties,” replied the King. “Chuck, Lady Tamorah and one of the Rook can accompany myself and Gaidred. Lord Wendell, Dax and three of the Rook will travel together. The four remaining Rook can travel with Altorin and Lady Alhannah.”

“No.” Dax shook his head, “That’s not alright—no offense kingy.”

Tamorah looked offended, but King Robert kept his peace.

“The gnome, wizard and kid stay with me. It ain’t up fer discussion. The rest ‘o you kids can choose yer own path.”

Several of the Rook muttered to one another, their almond eyes resting on the troll, who sneered back.

“We got’s us a job to do which ain’t got nothin to do with kings ‘r elves. We’re goin west to Irdu and up to Binmeer Lake. If ya want us ta warn the people along the way, Bob, we can do that.”

King Robert nodded.

“Then we’ll head northwest to Eberfalls. We’ll tip off villages along the way and as soon as I get my strength back, we’ll port ta Til-Thorin and meet ya there.”

“A fortnight should be plenty of time,” replied King Robert. “Tamorah and Gaidred and two Rook with me, then…the others will travel with Altorin. You know these lands well enough, my friend?”

Altorin nodded, “I do.”

“We also have maps from your own hand, King Robert,” added a Rook.

King Robert turned to the elf maiden, “Any objections?”

“This is…acceptable,” she replied, though she sounded unsure.

Wendell noticed an exchange of glares between the Evolu maiden and Dax. Tamorah’s gaze lingered on the troll, her large eyes becoming moist, while Dax’s lips rolled back to bear his yellow teeth at the maiden. He looked as if he’d rend the flesh from her bones, yet no one reacted—including the Rook.

Wendell frowned, confused. What’s going on?!

“Then a fortnight it is,” replied Gaidred.

Wendell startled at the sound of scraping metal and spun around to find Alhannah standing behind him, adjusting her swords.

“Right then,” she beamed, “let’s hit the road. We got a long walk ahead of us.”

Chuck hobbled up to stand next to Wendell. He sighed heavily, “At least it’s walking. I can do walking.”

But something felt odd and Wendell just couldn’t place it.

Again he heard the giggling. Sounding in the gaps of silence between conversations of the party.

The hair raised on the back of Wendell’s neck.

As they marched out of the valley, he found himself staring back at the charred torso over the Vallen campfire…