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Aspen Murik and the Runes of Erelon

The beginning of a fantasy journey that not even time can contain.

By Peter EllisPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 25 min read
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There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Aspen Murik knew the legends well. A dragon had not been born in centuries, none beyond the Second Reckoning. It started purely as rumours around the valley, members of the outer villages painted tall tales of people passing through who had seen unknowable destruction.

The townsfolk dismissed them as delirious, or drunk, or both. Yet, there were signs; the shaking, bloodied hands, the trembling in their words, that prevented those in the valley from being fully convinced they weren’t in danger.

And then the hills began to burn.

And then, distant roars echoed on the wind.

The horizon flared with red and yellow and orange as the flames crept across the landscape. Aspen watched on in horror as she realised that the flames dancing across the fields were people, animals from a neighbouring village burning to death. She covered her mouth to stifle the scream that so desperately wanted to escape. As she watched, the tops of the distant trees were smashed apart as Aspen first caught a glimpse of what had been causing the destruction that drew ever closer; a dragon.

Its great wings flapped downwards and shook glowing embers from the tree husks, coating the surrounding fields in a thick, burning blanket. The dragon roared and another stream of flames flew from its gaping maws. The fire ripped through one of the outer villages as if it were nothing.

People around her screamed in terror and ran in all directions, seeking any shelter they could find. Aspen froze in place, transfixed by the horrors that lay before her. The ground heaved. Windows shattered. Yet, she remained. The screams became secondary noise as she watched the dragon soar through the skies. It didn’t look exactly like the legends had led her to believe. Its face comprised harsh angles and smooth, shimmering skin. Its tail had two large and spiky bones pointing out of the end of it, forming an almost trident shape.

Then, as it got close enough to feel the heat from its fiery breath, Aspen realised something else about it; the dragon was not made of flesh and blood, but of metal.

“Aspen! Come with me, quick!”

She heard the words, but could not process them, still staring at the metal beast destroying the land. Hands gripped her forearm and shoulder, shaking out the trance that had paralysed her.

“We need to hide, sweetheart, now,” it was her mother, Eleanor.

Aspen followed without a word. She dared not look at the cobbled streets. Shops that once filled to the brim with customers now charcoaled and desolate. Bodies lay motionless as blood oozed from them and ran through the cracks in the ground. Their home was in sight, soon they could hide away from the death and destruction.

The pair of them bumped up against the door as her mother fished in her cloak's pockets for the key.

“Hurry, mother,” Aspen encouraged as glass and dirt rained down on them. The pair individually regretted getting a magic-proof lock more than ever.

Eleanor twisted the key within the lock, and the door opened. They hurried in. Her mother swiped at the air with her fore and middle finger together and the furniture floated over to the doorway to block it. Aspen rushed to her room to find a red backpack under her bed. It was in worse condition than she thought, but there was no time. She stuffed what clothes she could into it, along with her most prized spell books. Aspen pulled the drawstrings tight and knotted them into a bow and was back downstairs in a flash. She went to help her mother, but Eleanor batted her hands down before she could perform any magic.

“Take us to your grandfathers,” she said, taking more and more furniture through the air to block the front of their house.

“I-I’ve never travelled that far in one go before,” Aspen replied, her hands twitching in hesitation.

“There isn’t time to complain, just do it.”

“But what if I mess up?”

Do it.”

Aspen splayed her fingers on both hands.

She took a deep breath in…

And then a deep breath out.

You can do this, she thought, picture grandfathers’ house.

Aspen followed her thoughts. Picture it. That was all she had to do. Picture the crooked trees and overgrown shrubbery that shrouded her grandfather’s patch of land on the outskirts of the kingdom. Picture the shuttered windows and the walls a mix of thatching and grey stone. Picture the archway in the middle of the house that led through to his garden, where he always had something growing.

Picture it, Aspen thought to herself, picture it.

A blue spark danced in the air in front of her. The spark split open and within it she could see her grandfather's home. The hole it created in the space in front of Aspen and her mother spread slowly, too slowly.

“Faster, Aspen,” her mother urged.

“I’m… trying…” she replied, straining to keep widening the portal.

The world outside fell silent as the ground rumbled. Aspen carried on trying to open the portal as her mother crept towards the windows, waving her hand to create a small gap in the mountain of furniture to see what was going on. Aspen saw her cover her mouth with both hands in the corner of her eye. The ground rumbled again.

A low, guttural growl overtook the rumbling. Aspen stayed deathly still, begging the portal would open faster. Eleanor kept her hands clasped around her mouth, the sleeves of her cloak betraying her usual steely exterior.

The roof of their home was torn off, a huge shadow loomed over them as daylight tried to make its way in. The dragon was staring down at them both, molten liquid drooling from between its metal fangs.

Eleanor turned to face Aspen. She could see the terror in her mothers eyes as she gazed up at the creature, its lifeless red eyes watching them. The dragon bared its teeth as it prepared to turn them both to ashes. In that moment, Eleanor pushed her hands upwards with all her strength, forcing the air up towards the dragon hoping to stun it for a second so they could jump through the portal Aspen was holding open.

But the dragon didn’t flinch. Eleanor did not realise because she had already broken into a sprint towards the portal. Aspen could feel her magic failing, the stress was exhausting her. The room glowed orange as fire engulfed their home, Aspen screamed out in horror as her world burned before her, she screwed her eyes shut hoping that her end would be swift and relatively painless…

And then she fell on her back, into darkness.

“M… Mother?” she called out, tears stinging her ashen cheeks.

A figure appeared in her peripheral vision, their once brilliant white gown now dirty and torn. A small ball of light floating from their free hand illuminated the surrounding area. The figure leaned on their staff for support as they looked down on Aspen, inspecting her injuries.

Aspen had seen that staff before. It was the Sceptre of Erelon. Only one person held that.

“I’m sorry, my child,” it was Fae Grimsbane, the Grand Mage.

“Where’s my mother?” Aspen asked.

“I tried, but it took more power than I believed would be necessary to grab you before it was too late.”

Just like that, Aspen’s world was gone. She rolled onto her front and pushed herself away from the marble floor as she choked up mouthfuls of bile. Her throat and eyes and cheeks all stung in unison. Aspen pulled her hood over her face and wept. Not even being in the presence of the Grand Mage could stop her from breaking tradition. She couldn’t bow. Hell, Aspen wasn’t even sure she could stand anymore.

A frail finger and thumb pulled the hood away from her face. Grand Mage Grimsbane stroked her cheek and helped her sit up.

“My dearest, Aspen,” she said with a sadness unheard before. “I can never express my condolences enough, but I will miss your mother very much.”

“She… she was right there, Grand Mage,” Aspen trembled. “She was right in front of me and now she’s gone.”

The Grand Mage helped her to her feet. Aspen finally wiped the ash from her cheeks. The earth shook, dust and dirt trickled down from a ceiling Aspen couldn’t see. The Grand Mage turned and began walking through the darkness, the little ball of light guiding her way.

“Where are we going?” Aspen asked. “How are we going to fend off against that dragon?”

“Patience, my child,” Fae replied. “We may not have the strength to fight today, but there is a way. Come with me.”

Confused… but curious, Aspen got to her feet and followed the Grand Mage through the dark. Her breathing was heavy and her shoulders ached for her bed. The bed that was now up in flames. Every step they took, their movement echoed across the room they were in. Aspen took a proper look at the marble floor. It was mostly white, with veins of blue and bronze crackling through it like lightning captured in a painting.

She recognised its patterns. They were the same as the floor in the Great Hall. But, if that was where they were, how were they shrouded in blackness? Was the smoke outside smothering the windows? No, she concluded, light would surely find a way through. No, she concluded that someone else wanted to keep their whereabouts hidden. This someone, Aspen assumed, was standing beside her.

Fae halted. She raised her hand and the ball of light brightened as it rose to hover above them both, allowing them to see much better.

“What is it, Grand Mage?” Aspen asked.

“We are here.”

There was a change in the floor pattern at their feet. A round chunk of marble was missing. In its place was an older looking stone slit with a couple of jagged edges. It looked as though it would fit a key, though Aspen knew not of a key that size. The Grand Mage pushed the end of her sceptre into it and twisted. A stream of blue energy ran down the pole of the spectre into the lock in the floor, before spreading forward in streams to illuminate a doorway in the wall. One by one the streams joined, forming the windows, the hinges and then finally the door handle. A slight flash and the door became tangible. The way it secured into the wall, if it weren’t for Aspen seeing its manifestation moments earlier, it would’ve looked as though it had always been there.

The Grand Mage clicked the lock, and the door opened, revealing a stairway down to even more darkness.

“Come,” she insisted, the ball of light following her.

“What is down there?” Aspen asked.

“A place I’ve fought all my life to keep hidden.”

The dragon roared somewhere outside, reminding Aspen how close the threat to their homeland was. She hesitated no longer and followed the Grand Mage down the stairway.

“Keep your wits about you,” the Mage said. “It’s a long drop to the bottom if you fall off this path.”

“Are we in the catacombs?”

“Yes, but our destination lies beneath even them.”

Aspen gulped down the saliva that had built in her throat. Now was not the time to be afraid. All she had to do was not look down. Yet, despite not being able to see the bottom, Aspen could do little to withhold the discomforting shiver that sank down her spine. It further sharpened as she felt something crawling across her boot. For what she swore would be the only time Aspen dared to look down, just in time to see the outline of a blotchy tentacle trickling underneath the stairway.

“Grand Mage,” she said, worried.

“Yes, my child?” Fae replied.

“We aren’t alone here.”

“I know.”

“What else is down this path?”

“All that is necessary to keep you out. Whatever you see here, whatever you feel, is specific to you, so that you do not progress any further. You must push on. This magic is dark and powerful, but stick close and we will be there soon.”

“Do you see things too, Grand Mage?”

“Yes.”

“What is it you see?”

“I might as well have remained in the streets.”

Neither of them uttered another word for the rest of the journey. There were shrieks and scuttles out in the darkness, but Aspen powered on through, ignoring everything that may tempt her off their path. The pair stopped in front of a giant orb. Aspen hadn’t seen it appear until they were upon it, it simply was just there. Even in the hue of the Grand Mage’s ball of light, the orb did not react to it. No light bounced off its surface and neither could they see their reflections in it. It was as though a perfect circle cut out of reality right in front of them.

“Stand back, my child,” the Grand Mage requested.

Aspen did as she was told once again. She watched as the Grand Mage drew a small blade from a pocket in her cloak. She unwound the bandage on her right hand to reveal a palm littered with scars, before pressing the sharp edge of the blade into it and scudding it along the surface of her hand. Aspen went to aid her, but the Grand Mage pushed her back with the air using her now-bleeding hand.

“I must make an offering to repel the darkness,” the Grand Mage said, pressing her bloodied palm onto the orb.

She then spoke in Old Tongue, a language long since forgotten. There were extracts of it preserved in the collections of those more affluent in the kingdom, but Erelon had since adopted a new language, one easier to communicate with that still allowed them to cast magic. Aspen had only gotten glimpses of Old Tongue in the past, what she would have given to get a proper look at the scriptures before the dragon had come.

Soon, the orb glowed and swirl in a deep red. Fae withdrew her hand from its surface, wrapping it in bandages once more. Aspen noticed her trying to hide the shake she had developed and stuffed the bloodied hand within her sleeve. They watched as the orb’s glow pulsated as though it were a heartbeat. The shadows ran down the walls as the orb absorbed all the darkness. Now it appeared to have a sheen to it, but Aspen was unsure whether that was because of what appeared to be the Mage’s blood swirling within it.

“We’re still in the Great Hall?” Aspen questioned, realising how familiar her surroundings were now she could see properly. There were no stairways, she realised, no place to descend from.

“Not quite,” the Grand Mage corrected. “It is simply a space that takes the form of somewhere we feel safe.”

“Are we still in Erelon?”

“We are neither in nor out of Erelon.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What we have just endured is a stream of the Ether. It is a magical space to connect realms that prevent curious wanderers from wishing to walk within it. It projects your fears and will try to prevent you from travelling between spaces. While we are no longer in our realm, we remain tethered to it and can return there if or when we choose.”

“We’re in another realm? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Generations of our people were led to believe that so that we can keep this place, and its secrets, safe. We are in a realm between realms. It is the duty of the Grand Mage to protect it throughout their reign. If it were not for such dire circumstances, I would have allowed the Stream to kill you.”

Aspen shuddered. Her curiosity was riding high alongside her desire to bury her head and cry once more. She felt honoured that the Grand Mage would share such details of their history with her, though she would have preferred it come without the notion that the very room she was standing in would’ve killed her if she had been here alone.

Figures manifested around them, appearing as apparitions in the light. They spread out like ink droplets in water, forming more definitive, mortal shapes. Their inky complexion gave away as the figures grew more defined. Aspen could see their clothes, all old and worn, older than any clothing she recognised.

“Who are they?” Aspen asked.

“These are the Grand Mages of Eras’ past,” Fae said. “Each tasked with keeping the Hall of the Arcane safe.”

The Hall of the Arcane. The words rippled through Aspen’s mind. A place thought only to exist in legend. Very few believed in its existence, she herself one of them. It was home to some of the oldest and most dangerous magic in the realm, locked away from the world to ensure peace.

“Are they spirits?” Aspen said. “Are they yet to pass on?”

“No,” Fae replied. “They are here with us now, in their own time.”

“We’re… talking… through time?”

“Indeed, my child. We do this under the strict agreement that we do not disclose information that could alter our path, only what is necessary to protect and preserve the magic of our world.”

“Why are you changing things now?”

“Because all of our times are being attacked at once. They are all facing the same dangers as we are right now.”

Aspen looked around at the translucent figures surrounding the orb; they all looked markedly different to one another. Yet, they were also plain-looking, people she wouldn’t be able to pick out of a crowd. One didn’t seem to believe in clothing, covered only by a loincloth and a cropped tunic just about covering their chest.

One was significantly taller and skinnier than the others, not the shape of a typical mortal. They spoke in Old Tongue to Fae, who nodded in agreement. Then, she spoke to the others quietly in their new language. They nodded in agreement too.

All of them turned to face Aspen, her chest tightening with apprehension.

“What?” she said finally.

“There is an opportunity to save our lands, Aspen,” the Grand Mage said. “You can save us from this tragedy, not just now, but in all of our times. You can set things right.”

“It can’t be m- me. I’m not strong, my magic isn’t good enough. I’m nobody.”

The Grand Mage stepped away from the orb, taking Aspen by the wrist gently, pulling her out of earshot of the other mages. Aspen felt scared, but when she looked Fae in the eyes, she realised she wasn’t the only one, which made everything worse.

“You are a brilliant young witch, Aspen,” she said. “But you are right - you are not strong enough.”

“Then why me, Grand Mage?” Aspen replied, weeping. “I can’t do this.”

Fae swallowed deeply, seeming to compose herself before she spoke again.

“Look at me, Aspen. Look at me. I don’t want to ask this of you. I wouldn’t want to ask this of anybody, but we are out of time and out of options. We are going to give you the strength that you need, through means forbidden for generations.”

The ghostly mages all stood upright; withdrawing something from their clothes. They each produced a stone big enough to fit into their palms. Every stone had crude, unfamiliar markings etched into them. The hall rumbled, reminding them all of the danger once more. The past mages all closed their eyes for a few seconds, and when they opened them again, the stones had all materialised in Aspen and Fae’s time, floating of their own accord. As the Grand Mage collected them all and placed them at Aspen’s feet, she realised what they really were.

“These are the Runes of Erelon, and we keep them apart for a reason,” the Grand Mage said. “They are all kept in different time periods because they are too dangerous to be kept together…”

“And now you’re just… giving them to me?” Aspen asked.

“We’re making them part of you.”

Before Aspen could answer, she was hoisted off her feet and titled back in the air. Cloth bindings slithered from the Grand Mage’s sleeves and over her wrists and ankles to stop her from wriggling as much as possible. Aspen could feel her insides pounding. She looked down to see the Grand Mage holding her in place with her magic. A single tear fell down her weathered cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, my child,” she said. “This is going to make you feel as though you have died a hundred deaths.”

The Grand Mage began speaking in Old Tongue again. The other mages did, too. Each of them was saying something different, from what Aspen could determine in between the pounding in her head. Soon, she realised why. The markings on each of the runes glowed. Then the markings appeared to lift themselves from the runes, losing their shape as they danced through the air towards Aspen.

Fae’s rune markings were the first to arrive. The bindings split to pull Aspen’s cloak off of her. The lucid marking floated up her arm, barely above its surface, before it stopped right in front of her face. For a second, Aspen felt as though it were looking at her itself, before it touched her cheeks and the burning began.

She screamed out as it writhed its way through her skin like a freshly blacksmithed surgical knife. The rune contorted itself across her face, marking what felt like fangs above and below her eyes. Smaller parts of the rune stream broke away to etch smaller markings across her cheeks and under her bottom lip. Despite the burning sensation, Aspen could not feel that her skin had no visual damage, but now her vision had a white glow around the edges.

“We must continue, my child,” the Grand Mage said.

Then came the rest of the runes.

The other four latched onto her body at the same time. Her first taste of pain had felt almost quaint compared to how it felt now. Aspen carried on screaming as the runes fused themselves to her body. One coiled up her left leg and scratched away at her thigh, another found its home on her right forearm. The most uncomfortable one began cross hatching over her neck and down her shoulder blade, stopping just above her breasts. It felt as though a rat had dipped its tiny claws in a furnace and was preparing to make her neck its next meal. The final one bore into her side and wrapped itself around her and up the base of her spine. Aspen continued screaming as the rest of her body emitted a similar ghostly glow.

“With the Runes of Erelon within you,” the Grand Mage said, eyes purely white. “Time will bend to your whim. The spaces between realms will be yours to walk. You will hold power that no one mortal has ever dared to have.”

“Please, let it be over,” Aspen begged, as the runes began sealing themselves under her skin.

The bindings relaxed and then the Grand Mage softly placed her on the floor before stumbling; digging the sceptre into the ground to keep herself upright. Blood dripped from Fae’s nose as she tried to regain her composure.

Aspen looked down at her hands and arms. The runes stopped glowing, but the white markings remained. She could feel some swelling around them, but on the surface, it was all practically unnoticeable. Without a word, she rested her face in her hands, slowing her breathing until she felt calm again, or as calm as she could be in her current circumstances.

It was then she noticed something. Something crawling in the back of her mind and spreading like wildfire; knowledge. It was the knowledge of magic contained within the runes, knowledge she did not have. It was now there, nestling in her thoughts as though it were making itself comfortable.

The Grand Mage knelt down beside her, “How do you feel?”

“I… don’t know,” Aspen replied, exasperated. “I ache but… I can feel it, Grand Mage, the magic.”

“That is good, my child. Let the runes’ knowledge wash over you. Do not fight it, let it become you. Accept its place in your body.”

“I’m- I’m not ready for this.”

“I know you aren’t, dear. This is the only way. We can only hope for your success.”

The hall shuddered, and the roar of the dragon echoed in their bones.

“Impossible,” Fae muttered.

“What?” Aspen asked.

“It’s… consuming our magic.”

The Grand Mage bound her again.

“We have little time. Mages of Eras Past, lend me your strength.”

The other mages nodded, holding their hands out. A smoky haze emitted from their palms, forming a small cloud which Fae soaked within her being. One more time, she spoke in Old Tongue. The runes glowed within Aspen again. An invisible force leapt from the Grand Mage and grabbed hold of Aspen. The runes started getting brighter and brighter. Something started banging at the end of the door.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“There isn’t time for practice,” Fae replied. “I must send you on your way this one time.”

“Where are you sending me?”

“To a world I’d cut ties with a long time ago. We speak their language. Your runes will help you find a warrior strong enough to help you on your journey. I will try to get you as close as possible to them.”

The banging grew more aggressive. Something wanted in. The dragon roared once more, but it wasn’t that that was banging at the door. Something else wanted in to the Hall of the Arcane.

“What if I can’t find the warrior?” Aspen asked.

“You will,” the Grand Mage said, shouting over the noise. “You are a brilliant witch, young one. I believe in you.”

“I’m… scared.”

“I know you are, darling. Please, be careful. Do not use the runes more than absolutely necessary.”

“Why? What’s wrong with them?”

The door smashed open, but Aspen never got to see what waited beyond it.

“Good luck.”

Those were the last words she heard before she felt herself ripped from her realm. Now she was falling. Down or up, she could not tell, but falling she most definitely was. Dizzying colours whizzed around her in all directions as she fell through the realm between realms. She could hear the occasional scream, or a roar, and other sounds she could not make out. Sounds that mortals shouldn’t make.

And then she appeared somewhere else. In a new realm.

The runes stopped glowing and her thoughts quietened. This realm was different. The air tasted different, worse. She found herself in an alleyway between two buildings made of stone, at least, it felt like stone when she leaned on it. A chorus of what sounded like angry trumpets joined her senses. The ground was a similar colour to home, but it wasn’t cobbled like the grounds in Erelon mostly were. It was rough, but easier to walk on. It perplexed her, but she followed the sounds of the angry trumpets.

She could see people walking in the street in front of her. They looked like her mortals; maybe they could help. She ran up to the street, looking both ways. These mortals dressed differently to her. Some wore very loose tops and bottoms, one mortal had white strings plugged into their ears, not looking up from something glowing in their hand.

Another wore a jacket that Aspen could see herself wearing. It was a muted purple and had large buttons on the front. Yet, when she went to speak to the mortal, they looked her up and down disapprovingly, before continuing on her way. The centre of the rough grounds was a different material again, and it was filled with metal boxes on wheels. There were mortals inside of them. She surmised that this was their realm's way of travelling, instead of on horseback like the more “sophisticated” among her people.

The metal boxes stopped for some reason. Aspen knocked on the window of a taller black box and the mortal inside mysteriously opened the window without touching it.

“Need a ride, love?” he asked.

“Where… when… am I?” Aspen replied.

“Westminster, sweetheart. I think you might’ve missed the comic convention.”

“Where is… West… Minster?”

“Bloody hell, heavy weekend or something?”

“I am… not from here.” Aspen kept her true home a secret, for now. The runes did not react to his presence. This was not the warrior she was looking for.

“You’re in London.”

“Lon…don.”

“Yeah.”

BONG.

An incredibly loud ringing shook Aspen to her core. She covered her ears expecting the worst. She looked for the source, seemingly a bell tower, but she could not see the bell. The tower shimmered gold in the light.

“What is that?” she shouted.

“You ain’t ever ‘eard Big Ben before?”

“Who is Big Ben?”

He pointed to the bell tower. “That.”

“You called it Big Ben?”

“Not me, darling. Just a London staple.”

The mortals in the boxes behind him began shouting words at her aggressively. She had not heard these words before.

“Green light, gotta shoot. Good luck… whatever you are doing.”

The man in the black box disappeared down the street, and those behind followed. Big Ben continued to bong loudly. Aspen looked up, wondering how long it must take to build such a tower. How long it must take to build… well, everything she could see.

“I’m going to need a bit more than luck,” she murmured.

Fantasy
4

About the Creator

Peter Ellis

27// Published author and blogger.

Currently editing my debut novel⚡ Looking for a rep.

View my work via the link below! ⬇

https://linktr.ee/pm_ellis

He/Him 。◕‿◕。

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Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

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  1. Compelling and original writing

    Creative use of language & vocab

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    Well-structured & engaging content

  3. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

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Comments (3)

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  • Eli Hayden Loft2 years ago

    Nice start to an interesting combination of plot points that makes me want to know how the story will go!

  • Jim Horlock2 years ago

    So much to love here. Your imagination is brilliant and I just love the unexpected ending. The metal dragon, mages communicating across time, I love it!

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