The Hollow Hills of Nicholas County (part 4)
The Hollow Hills of Nicholas County (part 4)
The Troops Gather
Welcome to the seventeenth issue of Sketchy Scoops! Your number one source for the most spurious content on the internet.
This is part of a story arc. If you’ve missed the previous episodes, you can start from the beginning of this arc here:
Scoop Reports: The Hollow Hills of Nicholas County (continued)
I crouched down beside a stand of tall mushrooms that towered over me. Their caps and stems nearly matched the height of a full-grown man. Lykos, a satyr and leader of the resistance, knelt beside me and leaned against a slate-gray rock wall. The fur that coated the lower part of his body, which in brighter light appeared ruddy and faded to burnt yellow in spots, seemed especially vibrant against the dull background. Behind us were a trio of heavily armored dwarves who complained far too loudly for my taste.
All of us had gathered at the banks of the Tegwenrift. This was the river that I had spotted earlier when I first passed through Aberlyn.1 It ran at the base of the cavern and continued as far as I could see in both directions. The water had a luminescent quality to it that caused it to shimmer in the darkness. I started to ask about it, but Lykos motioned for me to remain silent. Then, he pointed across the river where I noticed that a camp had been setup under a massive coal seam. It had been hidden away in such a manner that I wouldn’t have noticed it unless someone had pointed it out. While I was looking, I noticed a sentry making his rounds to inspect the river’s edge and presumably to look for signs of danger.
“That’s Aelin,” Lykos whispered. “Good enough fellow, but let’s not surprise him. He has a hair trigger.” We waited for Aelin to pass and then Lykos motioned to the water. “That’s what you were going to ask about, isn’t it? The way it shimmers. Looks like it’s glowing from the inside, doesn’t it? That’s because it is. The Tegwenrift isn’t like regular water. That’s because a ley line is at the base of this river. For that reason, these waters are infused with magic.”
The idea stunned me. I didn’t know how to process it. Finally, I asked, “What kind of magic?”
The dwarves guffawed at my question. I didn’t understand why they thought it was so funny so I kept waiting for Lykos to answer.
“It’s not magic like you’re thinking. This isn’t something like good magic or black magic or any type of named magic you want to mention. It’s pure power. It’s one of the primal forces that some people believe powers all creation. Whether it does or not, isn’t for me to say, but I can tell you that it is used by the Council to subjugate all of the people of Aberlyn.”
“And Aelien and the members of that camp are here to protect it from the resistance? Is that right?”
The dwarves started to laugh again, but Lykos silenced them with a look. “No. Aelin is part of the resistance. He’s with us— just like all the other soldiers in that camp. I just didn’t’ want to startle him because it’s too early in the day to start catching crossbow bolts to the gut. Now, let’s get to that camp.” Lykos gestured to one of the dwarves and he stepped forward. The dwarf wore chainmail, but around his waist he had a wide belt. Dozens of talismans and charms hung from this belt. Behind those dangling charms, a bolt of cloth hung down from his waist. The cloth was inscribed with what looked like runes. It made me wonder if he were some sort of holy man or maybe a wizard? I had barely had time to formulate the question than the dwarf began reciting a complicated passage full of unintelligible words. He made a series of gestures as he spoke, dipping his fingers into the water, and scattering droplets with a series of elaborate gesticulations. As he did so, flat plains of water separated from the flowing river and rose into the air. Over and over again, these squares of solid water rose up and formed an arc. Once the shape of the span had been constructed, the squares of water rotated just enough so that each one connected with the one before and after it until a perfect bridge had been constructed.
Lykos spoke a word and it reverberated across the river like a guided arrow. Lights immediately flared to life all throughout the camp and in a matter of moments soldiers and hard looking men had gathered on the shore to greet us.
A voice called out from the other side, “Lykos, Son of the Glade, come forward and be known.”
I stared in the direction of the voice and was shocked to see a snake-like creature standing on the shoreline. It’s lower body was that of a coiled serpent, but it’s upper half was humanoid. Yet, it wasn’t human because the entire thing was covered in scales that varied in color between blue and green. It’s demeanor seemed to be at peace and control, but there was something about it’s eyes that made me feel uneasy. This wasn’t a creature I would want to face in a fight.
Lykos placed one of his hoofed feet on the water bridge and cried out, “Naliya, Warden of the Tegwenrift, please welcome us into your camp. It is time for us to speak of the things that are and the things to come.”
“Lykos, Son of the Glade, you and your companions may enter. Please cross my waters and enter into Brynstead and be welcomed.”
“A bit formal, aren’t they?” I muttered under my breath.
Lykos shrugged. “It’s an old ritual. Once we’re across things will loosen up. Come on. We have an attack to plan!”
A Note from the Editor
Be sure to tune in next week to follow the next exciting installment and to see how the revolution progresses.
