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Reforged pt 12

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The blackness that threatened to consume Arthur was banished immediately a green glow completely flooded the blacksmith's vision. His body felt lighter than air and, for a split second, the anesthetizing cold was replaced by the loving warmth of a hen upon her eggs or the sun shining down on a spring day. It was accompanied by a sense of fulfillment, not unlike when he was at the forge, or embracing his sons. The warmth left him, but he was no longer numb and no longer cold. Arthur was in pain.

Sovereign's voice echoed through his mind. "Life is pain. Pain means life, Arthur, Father of Harold. If you wish to help your sons, then this is the price. If you wish to live, then this pain in yours to bear."

The Human's senses snapped back in that moment and he gained crystal clarity of thought. He was in danger but, more importantly, his sons were in danger. Groaning, he forced his body up off the ground, wheezing as his chest muscles contracted, body tissue convulsing and tensing, forcing numerous arrows out of him. Blood had stopped seeping from his wounds and, by the time he had regained his footing, the wooden shafts had fallen completely free from him.

There was no sign that he had ever been struck and then, finally, the pain disappeared altogether. Only then did he feel the hand on his shoulder. Turning around, Arthur met the eye of the bearded man, Branson Oakshadow. He had a casual smile to it, but there was a bitter-sweet gaze in his eyes. "You stand again, and I hope you are ready to fight. I am honored to have met Harold's father before I die... but there is little time."

Arthur looked around; a short distance from him he saw the archer woman, one hand off her bow and holding her head. Harold and Orvig continued to fight off the elementals, Peter was slowly gaining ground on the bear, who seemed to be dazed. Returning his attention to Branson, he saw that the bearded man looked disheveled and bleeding despite not having been attacked. He had to ask. "What's going on? Why are you hurt?"

The calmness to the druid's expression was almost mind-blowing. "This circle shares our lives... as my fellow druids are harmed I take their wounds unto myself. It is our strength, but it is also our weakness... and that becomes your salvation."

The blacksmith shook his head. "I don't understand."

Branson lowered his head onto a low bow. "Our Circle has fallen... we are puppets, and cannot resist his power forever. Now is the time to end us, Arthur. Strike me down and you will put an end to this. Quickly, before anyone else is harmed."

Everything seemed to freeze for Arthur as he considered what the Druid was asking. He knew readily enough that powerful magic users could bend the will of others, but hadn't he just helped save the Circle by freeing Branson from the evil wizard's control? No. He didn't want to kill anyone. Glancing back toward the glowing green ball atop one of the standing stones he took notice that it was not the same as when it had first appeared; it had faded slightly since Lucas' last attack, and that meant something. Arthur shouted back toward his youngest son. "Lucas! Hit the eye again!"

Ever the dutiful son, the Kobold responded immediately, reaching out with a talon to release two bolts of crackling force. They streaked across the distance between him and the stone, slamming right into the eye. There was a loud crack as if a window were fractured, and then a sound that was akin to the popping of a bubble... and the glowing orb disappeared with an anticlimactic hiss.

Looking back toward Branson, he saw that the bearded man was slowly straightening up, obviously confused. It didn't take long for him to see what Arthur had planned. Sighing, he shook his head. "You have limited his vision, but so long as the magical energy of his spell still functions, you are only delaying his victory over us. You MUST remove us or else we are tools for him to manipulate."

The blacksmith shook his head. "I don't want to kill anyone."

The Druid reached out and rested a hand on Arthur's forearm. "I commend you for your dedication to peace, Arthur, but so long as even one of us is under his control there can be no stopping him. Sovereign has spent himself and it is all he can do even with your help to keep me free, let alone Algus or Liani. It would take a great act of magic to disrupt his control, and that is beyond us."

Even as Branson spoke he gestured to the bear facing off against Peter and then the bow woman standing a short distance from him. The former was down on all fours once again, rubbing its face against the dirt as if trying to brush off bees while the later seemed to have cleared her head. Unfortunately that meant that she had her bow up again and, as he watched, she set three twigs against the string and drew it back.

Moving by pure reflex, Arthur closed the distance with a single step. His shield still on the ground, he was upon her in an instance. Raising his war hammer high, he let out a wordless shout as he brought the weapon to bear. Far behind him, Harold let out a gut-wrenching cry "DAD! NO!!!"

The blacksmith didn't want to kill anyone, but he also wasn't about to lose his sons. He knew that Harold did not want him to hurt the woman, but Arthur knew that he had to do something. His weapon came down with as much force as he could put behind it, arcing in a deadly swing right down onto the woman's bow. He knew little about magic, but what little he did know was related to items of great power, and one thing he remembered was that, upon destruction, they released a great amount of magic.

The explosion that resulted from the bow's sundering exhibited just that, and, standing at ground zero, Arthur took the brunt of it. The blast wave picked him up off his feet and threw him back into one of the standing stones. He felt the air get knocked out of him a split second before his head slammed into the granite and then, once again, he was subjected a to formless, numbing blackness as he lost consciousness.

* * * * *

Unlike when he was restored by the glowing green energy, Arthur's return to consciousness was much more gradual and, thankfully, much more gentle. The blacksmith heard voices around him talking quietly; he felt the cool, soft earth beneath his back and smelled the scent of freshly fallen leaves. Finally, after several breaths he opened his eyes and saw the dappled green of a closed canopy over his head with mid-afternoon light gleaming though it in soft golden rays. Only then did the aches start to manifest.

He sat up with a groan, supported by firm, furry hands. He felt a soothing warmth flow through him by the touch and Peter's deep, devoted voice spoke softly. "Move slowly, Father... they said you barely survived the explosion."

Reaching up to take hold of his head in an attempt to get it to stop spinning, Arthur spoke into his palm. "Ungh... did... did it work?"

Another presence joined Peter and the blacksmith felt another hand touch him; more of his pain began to disappear as a cooling breeze flowed through his body, chasing away the burning discomfort. Despite having only heard it briefly, the blacksmith recognized Branson's voice. "You are an incredibly ingenious man, Arthur Smith... who could have known that sacrificing Liani's bow could disrupt the magic tying us to his will?"

Arthur, finally confident that he the world had stopped spinning around enough that he no longer needed support, waved the two away, but accepted Peter's help once again while standing. "You said it would take a lot of magic... and enchanted items release all of it when they're destroyed. It might have been a desperate plan, but killing is a last resort so I had to try something."

Branson offered him a warm smile. "Yes indeed... and I an certain that Liani may even forgive you some day. That bow was an ancient relic of her mother's people."

The blacksmith might have felt bad, if not for the success of his plan; he said as much bluntly. "Any parent would have done the same thing for their child... if it was a gift from her mother, then I'm sure her mother would have done the same thing."

A beautiful-but-cold voice spoke up from the side. "My mother didn't want me. She deposited me at my father's doorstep when I was a baby."

Arthur looked to the speaker and met a pair of eyes that matched the voice: icy and severe, like the mountain tops at winter time. He knew he had to consider his next words and aimed for something a little more diplomatic than his earlier statement. "I could not let you hurt my family, and I didn't want to kill you... it was the least evil of all options available at the time, but you have my apology if it caused you any--"

She interjected. "It did not." and a reluctant smile slowly appeared on her face, the frost fading from her visage like frozen dew in the morning. "We owe our lives to your quick thinking Arthur, Father of Harold."

The Gnoll, who was standing beside the woman, reached up one paw and brushed away some of her hair, tucking it behind one of her slightly pointed ears. Harold wore an almost comical expression on his muzzle-- stuck somewhere at the intersection of proud, timid, embarrassed, and adoring. His tail drooped, tucking just a little between his legs as he mumbled "I told you my father was a great man."

Liani turned toward the Gnoll. "Well of course he is... he would have to be in order to raise such a wonderful son."

Arthur felt his own face flush a little in embarrassment as the young woman leaned forward and kissed his middle son on the side of his muzzle. Harold's own blush could be seen even from beneath his fur. Coughing to clear his throat, the Gnoll simply replied "Well... yeah. Like I said..."

Lucas did a fine job of changing the focus, drawing everyone's attention to him via a loud cry of "LOOKDADICANRIDEBEARS!"

The blacksmith's brain took a few seconds to catch up to what he was seeing. Charging toward them like a four legged avalanche rolling uphill was the enormous bear that had been mauling Peter only a handful of minutes earlier, obligingly carrying the Kobold on his back like some kind of wild cavalry steed. Lucas was obviously enjoying himself.

Harold, however, was quick enough to correct him, grabbing the Kobold off of his mount. "He's a druid, you rat lizard!"

Lucas swung a fist, foot, and tail at the Gnoll, unable to connect with any of them as he objected. "Don't call me a rat lizard, mongrel!"

Peter separated the two. "Hey. Quit it. Both of you. All of this bickering is making Father look bad."

The bear approached despite lacking its rider and, before Arthur's eyes, it rose up onto two legs, losing a large amount of height and bulk. Its fur pulled back into a cloak, exposing a well-muscled body adorned with simple leathers. The man that approached had shoulder length curly reddish-brown hair and a beard to match; perfect white teeth glimmered out from beneath it in a warm smile. "You have quite a handful of a family, Arthur."

Unlike the other Druids, the man, who Arthur somehow innately knew was named Algus seemed perfectly at ease and, in fact, he was the first person to offer him his hand in greeting. The blacksmith accepted it, admiring Algus' firm grip. "If I didn't know better I could have mistaken you for a blacksmith."

The bear-turned-man let out a hearty laugh. "Carpenter... but that was a lifetime ago. For the past twenty years I have been more interested in caring for the trees than creating houses with their bodies."

Branson stepped up to join the two. "Apologies, Arthur, Father of Harold, but our time is limited. I understand that it is gracious to thank one's savior, but the one who has caused such harm to the world intends to exert his power on this place again."

Harold, who had apparently finished his argument with Lucas, approached and joined in on the conversation. "If he's coming then we'll set an ambush. That damn wizard isn't going to get away with this!"

Sovereign's voice entered their minds. "Yes he is."

Liani joined them, looking to the humanoid fungus man who was still positioned at the stone altar in the middle of the standing stones. "Sovereign... it is our duty to guard this place. Why can we not accept the aid of Harold and his family?"

The mushroom man's cap raised slightly and it almost looked like he was gazing toward them. "Because the Circle is broken. North is gone, and we cannot stand against the invader."

The half-elven woman did not seem content with that answer. "We can TRY!"

Sovereign's voice sounded tired in Arthur's mind. "There is no reason to do so. Druids are few in this age, and there is no reason for Algus and Branson to give their lives for a lost cause. It does no good for our cause and no good for nature. The only one who benefits from wasted lives is the invader."

Lucas approached. "I don't know what he wants, but whatever it is, he won't stop until he gets it."

Liani's fist shook as she clenched it. "Then we must end him."

Sovereign's voice was adamant in its conviction. "In time, Liani, but that time is not now. We do what we can with the power we have, and that will not stand against the invader... not yet. Branson can take you safely to the Old Woods and the Circle may survive."

Algus turned back to regard the mushroom man. "Branson? Why not you, Sovereign? If you know the way then you should continue to lead us, and that includes--"

The large man didn't need to be interrupted; he slowly trailed off. Only once he was silent did Sovereign explain. "I cannot make the journey, and the invader will not be content to conquer an empty woodland."

Liani stamped her soft leather boot onto the earth. "I will stay and fight with you! I may not be a Druid, but I swore to protect this Circle and I--"

Branson spoke over her. "Liani!" She went immediately silent, and he continued. "A Circle is not the stones that create a ring. A Circle is not the individual members. A Circle is a dedication to the natural world and the will that drives it to persevere."

Algus bowed his head, saying softly "We do what we can with what we are given, and accept what Nature provides as what we need, not what we desire."

Arthur shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, even going so far as to distance himself slightly by going to collect his war hammer. He went to where it had fallen, then paused when he realized that only remains of it had survived the explosion of the magical bow it had sundered. Letting out a sigh, he turned back to his sons. "Give our hosts a little space, boys."

Orvig, who had remained silent up to that point, approached Branson. "When this is all over and we stand victorious, your Circle will be welcome in my family's lands."

The bearded man offered a patient smile. "Druids acknowledge no lord's holds on any of nature's bounty, Orvig Asler... but your sentiment is appreciated."

The Orc nodded, then followed after Arthur. The blacksmith waited until the knight had caught up and folded an arm around Orvig's shoulder, providing what he hoped would be a comforting comment. "I guess Druids stand a world apart... I can't figure out the right thing to say to them, but I know they realize we're allies."

A call from Peter behind him pulled Arthur's attention back. "No, Harold... give them some space."

Rather than listen to his older brother, the Gnoll remained where he was, glancing toward the circle of stones where the Druids and Ranger were gathering to talk quietly amongst themselves. Arthur raised his voice. "Harold... come, son. Give them their space."

His middle son finally pulled his attention free and jogged to catch up. Lucas, who was scurrying to keep pace, slowed. "It was nice of them to heal us when they came around... I hope they'll be okay."

Glancing around his party, Arthur suddenly realized that what his youngest said was true; neither his sons nor Orvig looked injured in the least and, despite having practically been blown up himself, he felt perfectly well. Peter gave voice to what the blacksmith was thinking at that moment. "It is frightening to think that our foe was able to overpower them... he must have incredible, horrific magic."

Lucas hissed, gnashing his teeth as he said "He's made pacts with dark forces... they'll do his bidding as long as he holds up his part of whatever infernal bargain they've agreed to... disgusting."

Orvig nodded with certainty. "All the more reason he must be stopped."

Harold finally sheathed his axe and hammer. "We should join the Circle on its trip. They can still help us, and it's obvious that they're part of the fight already, so let's--"

Branson's firm voice called from the side. "You cannot join us where we're going, Harold, Son of Man."

The Gnoll spun around immediately. "Why not?"

Algus, who was also facing the group gestured toward them. "Because you have your family, and it is not right of us to make you choose between."

Harold shook his head. "It's not a choice! They can come with!"

Sovereign's voice permeated Arthur's mind and, presumably, everyone else's. "They cannot, Harold, Son of Man. The Circle is not for their kind and, while a place could be opened for you, it would require that you surrender your place among your family."

Arthur's heart felt like it was suddenly gripped by an icy gauntlet as he realized what had just been said. The blacksmith always knew that the time could eventually come that his sons would find their own way in the world and that it would mean the end of the time with him but he hadn't had the foresight to realize that it was approaching so rapidly for his middle child. Fighting to maintain control of his will and follow the promise he made to himself, the blacksmith reached out to rest a hand on his son's shoulder. "Harold..."

The Gnoll turned to look back at him, confusion and pain clearly on his muzzle. "Dad... they're my friends. We can all go with them. I--"

The human pulled his furry son in for a tight hug. "Listen to me, Harold... I have always told you to follow your heart, and I meant it, and still do. If your heart tells you that you need to go with them, then you should. There will always be a place for you in this family, but I won't ask you to give up your happiness for--"

Harold hugged him so tightly it almost squeezed his breath from him. "I'm not going anywhere, Dad. Family first."

Both Peter and Lucas joined the Gnoll's "Always."

Sovereign's voice presided over the statement. "As it should be, Harold of Man. Your family is not complete without you."

Slowly disengaging from Arthur, the Gnoll turned back toward the Druids. "I may not be able to go with you, but I still want to help... if I can."

Arthur didn't even hesitate. "We all will... if you'll let us."

Rather than respond to his offer, the Druids and the Ranger of the Circle each gave Sovereign a quick embrace and, as one, they left the mushroom amidst the ring of stones, approaching the party. Eventually Branson spoke. "Good... then walk with us for a time. We must be gone from this place, and there is a quest through which you may aid us."

The party stayed with the relocating members of the Circle for the rest of the daylight hours and it was during that time in which they received their task. North was missing, and it was to be their task to help find and rescue the young Druid.