*
The word spread quickly among the Unguhur populace about the victory over the enemy forces up on the surface. The Unguhur of the underground stone city had never before interfered in the affairs of the upper world, but they all recognized the common threat that they and the Saxans were facing.
An ebullient mood fanned rapidly amongst the great creatures, though the celebrations were tempered by the sobering notion that there would be much more yet to face. All were aware that they were facing an implacable, determined enemy, but they still allowed themselves a little period of enjoyment after having won the first encounter so thoroughly. From the ambush in the dark passageway, to the trap set out in the forest for the fleeing Avanorans and their allies, it was undeniably a resounding success.
Even with the apprehensions plaguing him, the tidings lifted Gunther’s spirits out of the gloomy mood that he had remained in since he had come to the aid of the outlanders, in the outer forest region of Wessachia.
Adding to the upswing in his feelings was the fact that his Jaghuns were being well cared for, and were exhibiting better demeanors than he would have expected, given that they had been removed from their natural environment. He had just finished spending a good length of time with them, wrestling and playing with the boisterious creatures.
Gunther had been reassured to see that they all had very full bellies due to the beneficence of the Unguhur. Gunther admittedly hated leaving them behind, and the creatures displayed a little agitation when he had departed, but he knew that they would be a hindrance for what he was about to do.
Gunther’s step was a little lighter, and his head felt much clearer, as he ascended the ladder to the roof opening just above him. At the top, he pushed himself up, to come to stand in the forward-most area of one of the Unguhur terrace-dwellings.
He walked straight ahead, moving towards the stone-carved entrance to the dwelling’s frontal chamber. The woodsman paused at the opening, poking his head partially into the dark interior. He was relieved to see that all of his new wards were gathered together in the interior of the chamber, and that he would not have to track any of them down.
“Come, there are some things that I would like to retrieve up in my home, now that the invading vermin have been driven back for a time,” Gunther promptly informed the four exiles.
They were spread apart, seated on the smooth stone ledges along the walls. Their faces were barely lit by the small amount of light filtering down through the opening in the middle of the ceiling. Gunther mused that they must have been content to sit in the dimness, as he did not see any of the portable stones with the glowing fungus within the chamber.
“I thought that you might like to take a walk, and get away from Oranim for a little while,” Gunther then added, a little less curtly.
Erin and Ryan politely declined the offer. Gunther could see that the two were displaying undeniable, physical evidence of fatigue, though he found their rejection to be a little unusual, as they seemed to be the two who had been chafing the most for a surface excursion.
Lee and Lynn, though looking quite tired themselves, still appeared eager enough to engage in some activity, as both accepted the invitation with manifest enthusiasm. The two got to their feet, Lee’s back popping audibly as he arched backwards and stretched it out.
“To be in my twenties again,” Lee remarked, as he looked to the others with a grin. He then nodded towards Gunther. “I’m good to go.”
Lee and Lynn then walked out of the chamber behind Gunther, leaving their other companions behind. They continued over to the square opening to the next lower chamber, Gunther taking the lead as they proceeded down through the lower dwellings.
Gunther noticed their hesitancy as they moved through the lower dwellings, one of which was occupied by an Unguhur female who was just about to engage in cooking a meal of fish. She barely cast them a glance as they moved through, as the Unguhur were well-used to those of the higher terraces moving through the lower dwellings on their way to the ground level.
Gunther found the apprehension of the exiles a little strange, adding to a number of other indications that reinforced the notion that they came from a world that held an unsual amount of privacy for individuals. By their own words, the exiles were not of the nobility of their world, yet they behaved as if they had regularly enjoyed the kinds of privileges that only kings, queens, and greater nobles were afforded in Ave. Gunther intended to discuss that particular matter in depth with them, at a later time, as he found it immensely intriguing.
After exiting the dwelling at the ground level, Gunther led the others straight down towards the waterside. The lake looked as placid as ever, as the cool waters gently lapped at the rocky shoreline. The water surface shimmered all around the huge lake, casting its ethereal, dynamic tapestry upon the cavern’s rock surfaces.
A few of the Unguhur’s giant rafts were moored just a short distance down the shore to the left. They floated lightly, where they were tethered securely by fiber ropes looped around large rocks resting just out of the water’s reach. The rafts were attended casually by a trio of the humans’ hulking benefactors, who were sitting on the ground a few strides away from the mooring rocks.
They had a portable slab of flat rock in their midst, upon which they were casting handfuls of bones in a variety of shapes. It was an Unguhur game that Gunther had not yet learned the specifics of, though he guessed that it probably had some elements familiar to the games of dice played by humans.
The three Unguhur ceased in their play, quickly rising at the approach of the human trio. They towered over Gunther as he drew nearer, silently regarding him with their naturally melancholic expressions.
After a short inquiry, Gunther secured the assistance of one of the Unguhur to guide them by raft. He explained to the creature that their desire was to go back to the mushroom forest which rested at the base of the carved rock passage leading up to his home.
The Unguhur agreed without hesitation, and then enlisted one of its companions to assist in the trip. Gunther, Lee, and Lynn boarded the nearest raft, and in a few moments the watercraft was being paddled across the lake.
They continued past several other rafts, whose occupants were engaged in fishing activities. As always, several of the other Unguhur paused and looked upon the surface folk with great curiosity.
The few gallidils that were around paid them little heed as the lengthy creatures drifted along the lake surface. Always interested in creatures of the wild, Gunther marveled at more than one enormous specimen that he espied gliding within the dark waters.
There were a couple of other rafts that were also heading in the direction of the underground forest. The pilot of Gunther’s raft had to slow down considerably as they came very close to bumping the rear of one of the other rafts, just within the narrow tunnel that led from the lake cavern to the fungal forest. They barely avoided a collision with the raft, and proceeded through the tunnel at a slower rate. At last, they entered the cavern with the unusual forest that the Unguhur had cultivated so painstakingly, entailing extraordinary amounts of labor.
Their guide maneuvered them towards an open berth on the right shorefront, near to where the other rafts were already coming to rest. The raft pilot tossed a thick fibrous rope to another Unguhur who was standing on the shore. Catching it, the creature tied the other end around a boulder-sized rock, before catching a second rope, and repeating the process with another boulder. The raft was fairly snug against the natural rock quay when it came to rest in its final position.
Gunther cast his gaze into the fungal forest beyond the landing, and saw the presence of large numbers of Unguhur within the glowing cavern. By their garb, Gunther knew that they were full-fledged warriors. They were gathered in small groups, scattered amid the teeming arrays of mushroom stalks.
Most were seated upon the ground, arranged into rough circles as they conversed amongst themselves. They had stacked their long spears together, near to where they were positioned, leaning them against fungal stalks so that it would be easy to grasp the weapons if the need suddenly arose.
The prevailing mood among the warriors was very relaxed, a general spirit that was comforting to Gunther as they made their way from the shore. The human trio strode up the long pathway through the towering stalks, heading towards the passage opening on the far side of the cavern.
The warriors conveyed no indication of immediate worries or cautions in their postures or expressions, dispositions that certainly would have been in evidence if there was even a remote chance of an impending strike. Gunther took increasing reassurance from the sight. As skilled and resourceful as the Unguhur were in the nuances of cave dwelling and surviving in a sunless world, they were also quite formidable scouts and trackers. Nothing could easily come within their vicinity without the creatures being aware of it well in advance, especially when they were in a very heightened state of alertness.
The Unguhur warriors, while recognizing the presence of the three humans in their midst, paid them little attention and made no move to obstruct their passage. The humans continued upward, trekking through the far end of the cavern and heading directly into the darkened tunnel beyond.
Several Unguhur warriors cooperated readily after the humans had traversed the incline, and neared the top of the passage. They pulled aside blockading materials in order to open up a tiny passageway to allow access to Gunther’s surface dwelling. Gunther and his companions worked through the narrow channel carefully, having to squeeze through with a concerted effort at some points.
Interacting with a couple of the warriors, Gunther learned that the Unguhur had several eyes watching on the surface, and that no enemies threatened at the moment. The warriors cautioned them to return with haste if the enemy suddenly arrived, as they would not be able to hold off for long before reforming the dense barricade of the lower passage.
After having scraped and shouldered their way through the tight passage, the trio walked unimpeded through the rear opening into Gunther’s home. The initial sight that met him was disheartening.
Lynn and Lee appeared to be even more unnerved than Gunther about the condition of the main room, as looks of dismay rapidly spread upon their faces. Gunther’s mouth tensed into the foundation of a rigid, stony demeanor, which forcibly suppressed the open venting of painful feelings inside. He effectively felt stabbed in the spirit, and was not a little angered at the brazen violation of his home.
The place had incurred considerable damage from the invaders, as the few wooden furnishings that Gunther owned had been smashed into fragments. The beaten earth floor, which still had the old straw strewn about it, was covered with numerous chunks and splinters of wood.
“I still have myself in one piece… even if my possessions are not,” Gunther stated tersely to the others, noticing their expressions at the stark vision of vandalism.
They looked back at Gunther with a significant degree of disbelief. He quickly rationalized that they were half-expecting him to vent, and outwardly express some sort of sorrow or frustration.
Gunther, though far from joyous, kept an unmoving, serious mien fixed on his face, as he made his way slowly across the room towards the front door. His leather shoes crunched on the shards and pieces of wood underfoot, as he felt the iron of a broken-off chest hinge bite into his right sole.
Withdrawing his single-edged dagger from a sheath at his hip, he knelt down by a patch of ground that was just to the right of the entrance. Almost at once, he began hacking away at the tightly packed earth. Chunks of dirt went flying, the likes of which prompted him to perodically pause in his digging to clear away from a widening hole.
After several minutes of excavating, his dagger finally struck something solid. The tip stuck in place with the jarring impact. Gunther tugged the dagger free with a jerk, and began to chip away more carefully at the dirt.
Fastidiously, the process dragging on, Gunther proceeded to remove the debris slowly, revealing the form of a rectangular chest that had been buried beneath the earthen floor. Gunther carved and scooped around the sides of the timber chest, piling up dirt on all sides as the hole deepened around the container. With a few jostles, and extra scooping out around the bottom edges, the chest finally came loose.
Gunther gripped the chest at its far ends and pulled it free from the ground. He turned and set the chest down on the floor by the edge of the new hole.
“They did not get this,” Gunther stated with a bittersweet countenance on his face, feeling both melancholy and triumphant as he looked down upon the iron-banded chest. He then repeated more softly, “They did not get this.”
“What is in there?” Lee questioned in a low voice, stepping up to Gunther’s side.
Gunther’s eyes remained riveted upon the small chest for many minutes, and the two with him did not press any further for answers. He was grateful for their respect, as he was wrestling with his own emotions at the sight of the carefully hidden chest.
Finally, he answered Lee in a voice that was just above a whisper. “These are some very special belongings of mine. They are the kind that I could not afford to keep out in my home… if a day like this ever should have come. Such a day has indeed come to pass, and it seems that I judged well to have buried this chest.”
Gunther stopped and took a deep breath. Slowly, he looked over towards the others, and gestured at the outer door.
“You might as well get a few breaths of fresh air. The area is safe at this time,” he told them. “We might remain long underground after we return, or we might not, but you should take advantage of the moment that is in hand. The future is never for certain.”
Lee looked towards Lynn, who nodded silently back to him, as an understanding passed between them. He looked to Gunther and replied gently, “Might as well take advantage of it while we can, like you said.”
His words said one thing, but Gunther could tell that both had been perceptive enough to realize that the woodsman needed some time to himself. Gunther appreciated their keen awareness greatly, even if he did not express his sentiments.
The two filed quietly past Gunther and headed outside. Gunther rose in silence, and looked beyond the front doorway, just to make certain that the two foreigners were not alone.
He could see that there was another small contingent of Unguhur warriors gathered amongst the trees outside of his dwelling, all armed with the type of spear that was commonly used by their kind.
Though obviously alert, the Unguhur body language was just as relaxed as that of the warriors down in the cavern below. They came to a slight start as the two humans walked out into the dappled sunlight around the dwelling, but clearly recognized them, eased, and resumed their quiet watch.
Taking a few steps back into his abode, Gunther dropped to his knees before the chest. He reached down and ran his finger along the latch of the container. There was small keyhole on the iron padlock that secured it, to which a barrel-key in the pouch at his waist fit. He fit the stout key into the lock and turned it, the sharp sounds of the lock’s release rising to his ears an instant later. Gunther then opened the chest, carefully lifting the lid of the container.
Inside the receptacle were items that spanned the course of Gunther’s life. Coins of silver, and a few of gold, some gleaned from the wide travels that he had made with his father as a youth, lay randomly inside. A couple of small silken weavings were neatly folded, and tightly packed to one side, saved from places that still remained very near to his heart.
A small, wood-carved figurine of a Jaghun brought some wetness to Gunther’s eyes, though nobody was there to witness the surge of emotion overwhelming the stoic man. An uncle had given the finely detailed figure to him during his youth. Neither Gunther nor his uncle had known how portentous that gift was to be, for what was to come later in Gunther’s life.
It had been carved by his uncle’s skilled hand, based upon a male Jaghun that he had once seen, which had been purchased by a castellan knight from an old Sunland trader in Paleria. The creature was an absolute rarity, brought from far to the east, where the trader had acquired it in the Sunlands.
Paleria still held a significant population of followers of the Great Prophet, who hearkened from times when their ancestors had once conquered the island kingdom. The rulers of the island kingdom following that age had been Avanorans who had been led there by a mercenary adventurer. The Avanoran kings of Paleria had then given way to the blood of Ehrengard in the person of the Sacred Emperor. Despite all of the changes in rule, the Prophet-following families still endured, having survived throughout the many bitter struggles. They had also maintained continuing ties to the east, which was what enabled the Sun Land trader to bring a living Jaghun to Paleria, to be purchased by a knight of the west.
Gunther remembered how he had often listened in fascination to the tales of the Sun Lands, including stories of birds of incredible size, oil lamps with spirits dwelling in them, and many other fantastical tales that concerned a particularly brave sailor. Yet it was the old trader that had brought the most amazing and wondrous sight to his uncle’s eyes, the resonance of which had continued in Gunther’s life from the day that he had received the carved likeness.
He remembered his very first friends among the four-legged race of Jaghuns, as if those times of many long years before were the present day. Gunther was swiftly taken on an interior journey, as a recollection of the past paraded before his mind’s eye. He did not waver in the face of the swell of memories and images, even as more recent wounds were opened fresh, to bleed once again.
Triker and Jarka had been the most beautiful and loyal of creatures, from their discovery as a pair of vulnerable cubs in the Shadowlands, to the day that they breathed their last in Saxany. Gunther wished bitterly that the Jaghuns, like all of their kind, had a lifespan long enough to outlive the years that the Almighty had granted to the woodsman.
It was almost treacherous, in his view, that the years given to most beasts, especially the ones that were close companions to humankind, were so relatively scant. The creatures that showed friendship to mankind possessed lives so much shorter than those afforded to humans; at least those men and women who managed to avoid disease and violent death.
Gunther loved his first Jaghuns in a special way, as virtually a brother and a sister to him. The deeper sense of kinship and affection had steadily expanded as time went on, once kindled with Triker and Jarka. It had built up stronger with each successive Jaghun that had entered his life. The relationships blossomed in a shining continuum that led right up to the majestic animal that had recently been slain in the forest, Mianta.
The unfettered, enthusiastic love and loyalty shown to him by Mianta, from such a young age, had contrasted mightily with the human world that whirled in seeming chaos all around the woodsman. The impressions made by the starkly contrasting experiences were profound in their impact upon Gunther.
In his life, he had witnessed cutthroats, liars, cheaters, thieves, and countless other disreputable men and women, many of whom were held in popular esteem, and possessed of comfort and wealth. His travels had taken him far across the face of the world. The various lands that he had visited were all consistent in that nobility were so very rarely noble, either in deed or spirit.
As Gunther had gotten older, he had come to recognize more and more of the contrasts between truth and facade among the merchants, ruling classes, and even prominent religious figures, until he was firmly convinced that the human world was plagued with a malignant disease that was only getting worse. More often than not, a beautiful edifice adorned with gold and jewels masked a diseased and corrupt interior, among both groups and individuals.
A kind of maxim had taken root within Gunther, a metaphor for the living reality that he could testify to; a splendid and ornate tomb was still nothing more than a container for a rotting, dead organism.
The ways of humankind had changed much even in the course of his own lifetime. A sense of honor and a tendency for looking out for one another were rapidly becoming nothing more than mere words, which once spoken dissipated in the wind.
A world of tranquil villages and farmsteads was giving way to the power of ever-larger cities, as families were uprooted and dispersed. Gunther had strongly come to believe that the people flocking to the cities were chasing phantoms, fleeting and ephemeral delusions of hoped for wealth and comforts that would never be realized. The truth was that most were chasing after a wealth that would always concentrate itself in the great guilds of the west, and the nobles and rulers that chartered the towns that they occupied; powers that effectively controlled the lives of the urban populaces with an ironclad will.
The Unifier’s precipitous rise to such great heights of power had been one of the final events that had pushed Gunther to go into the east. He had sought escape and seclusion in a part of the world that he had hoped was not yet fully tainted with the decay that he saw so prevalent in the west. That hope had been naive, for he had quickly discovered that the same forces flowed in the east as in the west. Even more dismaying, his sojourn had led him straight to his most onerous, soul-wrenching experience of all.
Gunther could never forget the last, long journey that he had undertaken. He had finally departed the east, broken-hearted and weary, working his way through a meandering journey back to Ehrengard. He had then taken the overland route to the east, reaching the edge of his homeland, then crossing over the borders of Saxany.
He had found nothing to help alleviate the heaviness in his heart, having held a sliver of hope that at least some things would be different in the storied land. The Saxans were good enough as a people, but the disease that he had seen in the other lands was beginning to show itself there too.
Though King Alcuin and many respectable thanes still stood tall and strong upon the foundation of the values that they, and those before them, held dear, a malignancy was indeed present among the people. Many in the populace now openly whispered their desire that the realm look to the ways of the western lands, and seek relations with the Unifier, in order to secure more prosperity for themselves. Those subtle murmurs, Gunther knew well enough, could easily transform into shouted advocacy in a very short time.
During his first months within the new land, Gunther had traveled all about the kingdom. News and tales had come in with the merchants that traded with the edge of the western kingdoms, and Gunther had heard a host of opinions, as conversations bandied about the burhs and greater towns of Saxany.
For every individual such as Aethelstan, there were three others who harbored a reluctance to oppose the Unifier, in Gunther’s final assessment. Those kinds of individuals seemed to hold freedom in very light regard, as something not worthy of struggle if, by accepting the Unifier’s will and authority, they could fill their bellies and coin pouches easier.
Gunther had promised himself then to hold little pity for the latter types of people, if the preeminence of the Unifier ever fell upon the Saxan lands. He had come to the rueful conclusion that there was no mistaking the eventual course of things, in that the Saxan lands would fall by conquest or acquiescence.
The kind of people propogating across the world, who had started to define what was evil as good, and what was good as evil, were woefully incapable of seeing below the surface of such a powerful, cunning entity as the Unifier indeed was.
Gunther had come to Saxany with initial thoughts of living around a village or town, but his further disgust with many of its inhabitants had pushed him to embrace the idea of a largely solitary existence. At the end of it all, he only desired a hideaway deep in the woods, far removed from the travails and storms encompassing humankind. Only then, in such an isolated environment, did he think that he could begin to heal.
The dark stream of thoughts caused Gunther to close his eyes for a few moments. The madness that was gripping mankind was only getting worse in a world turning itself upside down. Gunther found that he could hardly stomach what he could never even begin to truly comprehend.
Looking back into the chest, his eyes went from the Jaghun figurine to a golden arm bracelet. The look on his face softened even further, the very instant that his eyes alighted upon the bracelet. The wetness in his eyes swelled, until a lone tear escaped, and ran along a slow course down his right cheek.
Irene.
She was perhaps the greatest reason that his faith in people had been almost completely shattered. She was the prime reason why he had essentially fled the east, with such an aggrieved, disillusioned heart.
Irene was the first and only love that he had ever had. To him, she was so perfect, beautiful, and eternal. As a younger man of twenty-six, filled with new hopes and aspirations as he arrived in the east, he had thought that the whole world was ahead of him. After his life had intertwined with hers soon after, he had thought that he had found everything that he was looking for, and that she would always be by his side.
He was certainly of a marriageable age, and his mind and heart were fixated upon only one person in the entire world. Gunther vividly remembered how he had always been captivated by her warm eyes and soft smile, a look whose memory now evoked only pain within his heart.
Gunther had found his true love in the heart of distant Theonia, or so he had thought at the time. It had seemed that a great blessing had come into his life, in the form of the daughter of one of the Empire’s authorized dyers of purple silks. In Gunther’s eyes, the precious, regal color, derived from a highly valuable, rarer breed of sea snails within the region’s oceans, was unfit for his own beautiful empress.
The young woman’s father often visited the vast and ornate palace complexes within the Empire’s great capital city of Theonium. Gunther had gotten to know him well, and had felt confident that he had the man’s favor, in the courting of the merchant’s youngest daughter.
At the end of each day, when Gunther was banged up with the effects of an education by trial and error concering the ways of the world and fighting arts, Irene had always performed her own little miracles upon him, lifting the aches and pains away. Often, it was accomplished by merely her close presence to him.
She had soon professed that she would be there for him forever, and he had promised the same in return. Irene had been the one who had lied, as it was not long after that she had broken her vow.
Unbeknownst to him, a local officer, in one of the native units of the central, elite Tagmata force, had caught her affections. Gunther had no indication that the relationship with the officer had developed so strongly and quickly, until Irene had abruptly informed him one day that their courtship was over.
Leaden, cold rains had been poured into his world without warning. He had not seen so much as even a hint of one gray cloud on the horizon, to herald the sudden change in the skies of his life.
Gunther found it all so very hard to believe at the time, thinking that he was in the grip of some terrible nightmare from which he would awaken at any moment. Stunned, and shocked, he was frozen to inaction and sadness for many terrible days, as he began to realize that he would never truly awaken from the nightmare.
One of the harder things about the experience was that he did not even know of the other man when their courtship had been broken off. In truth, Gunther had learned nothing of the reality until they had already been split apart for many days. The recognition of the lengthy deception by Irene dug ever deeper into his raw wounds.
Irene had claimed earlier that the reason for breaking off the courtship was that she needed to find her soul, and to contemplate her faith. Though shocked, he had tried to understand that as much as he could. He agreed with her that everyone needed to find some bearing in regards to who they were, in order for them to contribute to the life of another. He had not wanted to press her much on the matter, being that he had come from the Western Church, and she was under the Eastern one, with its Grand Shepherd.
The shock and betrayal coalesced and transformed into a sheer torrent of anger when, in the coming month following their severance, the actuality of what had happened became clear. In a fit of rage, Gunther had sought after the Tagmata officer, to crush the serpentine thief that had slithered into the paradise of his life. Friends of his in the Emperor’s vaunted bodyguard, the Vargi, had forcibly restrained him. It had taken many of them to do so, and more than one had incurred a heavy blow in the process.
It was only the stark realization that Irene was as much of a part of the betrayal as the officer that finally kept Gunther from committing an atrocity, one that he would have greatly rued in time. Though barely, he was able to keep control of his vitriol and heated emotions, culminating in a steely resolve to survive the terrible betrayal.
As it was, he did not undertake any action that would have caused him to face the heavy justice of Theonia, even though he was wracked in awful torments at the mere sight of the two of them. Even though he was in the Emperor’s bodyguard at the time, he was still a foreigner, and the Tagmata officer held favor with many of the elite families within the massive, lavish city. Had Gunther given in to his volcanic urges, he would not have found pardon in the Imperial courts.
He had still paid a terrible price. Having long been reticent to trust others, even before that time, the damage done to his perception of the world in the aftermath of the horrid deception was tremendous.
In comparison to anyone he had ever known, he had sincerely thought that he could at least trust Irene, and that he really knew her. After the terrible revelation, he was left in a state of mind that degenerated quickly to a level where he never really trusted anyone from that time onward. Gunther now felt strongly that the only being that he could put all of his faith in was the Creator.
That darker, pessimistic state of mind that had taken hold in those former times had never softened for Gunther, and he had chosen to keep the bracelet, to visibly remind him of that jarring betrayal.
Mianta and Irene.
The two individuals, one a Jaghun, and the other a human, had taught him important lessons in the path of life. Both had involved their own experiences of joys and heartaches, and both had left scars, for very different reasons. Yet the past and the present were still very much the same in essence at the end of the day, as they both left him bleeding inside.
A part of Gunther bitterly wished that he could regain at least a modicum of the innocence and confidence that he had enjoyed as a youth. Life had seemed so much more full and sunlit in those distant days, times that seemed ever more like an ephemeral dream.
Nevertheless, Gunther realized that he had grown, learned much, and had come to realize how much more he did not know. It was all a part of living life, and he knew that it would continue throughout the remainder of his years, in one form or another. The small items in the chest were indeed important reminders of the various facets of that reality, and he did not regret keeping any of them. As such, Gunther was not about to let the powerful, highly personal symbols ever be forgotten, or, if he could help it, become lost.
There was one last principle item in the chest that attracted his attention. It was a pendant that was fastened to a long, thin leather strip that could be worn around the neck. Gunther had obtained the pendant shortly after he had established his new dwelling place in Saxany. He had finally found a place of refuge in the western forests of Wessachia, lands that had once been a border territory of the old Northern Kingdom. In those days, he had continued to make a few journeys to the easternmost parts of Saxany, going to the great port city of Landahn as he began the phase in life that continued up to the present moment.
A stranger traveling through the woodlands had given the silver pendant to him. Gunther had come across the stranger under quite unusual circumstances, during his return from one of those long sojourns to Landahn.
Gunther had been cutting through the woods, taking a shortcut off of the narrow forest trails that oriented him more directly towards his newly-built timber home. A skilled woodsman, he was not daunted by brush, wild animals, or more difficult terrain, and simply wanted to be back in his dwelling sooner than later.
Gunther had encountered the mysterious stranger shortly thereafter. The individual that he came upon was an elderly gentleman, who had appeared to be on the verge of complete exhaustion. The stranger was far off the few beaten paths that the Saxans used to pass between their villages and towns, and he was entirely alone.
The man had looked to be in tremendous need, right on the verge of collapse as he leaned against a tree. Even though Gunther had finally achieved a place intended for his own solitude, he had not hesitated to come to the man’s aid.
Gunther carefully helped and guided the elderly stranger back to his simple abode, taking some circuitous paths to lessen the strain on the old man. The woodsman had proceeded to provide the old man with a full meal, and an evening’s worth of rest and shelter.
The following morning, to Gunther’s utter amazement, the old man had insisted on resuming his journey. He looked spry, and was warmly engaging in his manner. Had Gunther not known better, he would have found it very hard to believe that the old man was in a very downtrodden state mere hours before. There was a spritely youthfulness within the old man’s eyes that Gunther had never forgotten since.
The two of them had then proceed to share a warm meal and a period of spirited conversation together. It soon became evident that the old man’s travels far exceeded Gunther’s own substantial experiences, deepening the mystery of it all.
The more that Gunther looked upon him, the more that he recognized physical characteristics about the man that hearkened to the people that lived in the lands where the Holy City was located. The angle of his face, his dark eyes, his prominent nose, and the tone of his skin indicated a life that had originated in those hallowed regions of the Sunlands.
The man was evasive about his origins, much to Gunther’s frustration, but the woodsman was not about to disparage anyone for leaving elements of their life in the past. Before he had departed, the old man had expressed his heartfelt gratitude for Gunther’s kindness and generosity. It was then that he had given Gunther the silver pendant, retrieving it out of a pouch that had been hanging at his waist.
He had never forgotten the old man’s voice, as the stranger had given the pendant to Gunther. The resonant words echoed across time itself. “In time, wear this, as it will give you strength for going back among the world of men. You will see in time that not all is lost, even when you feel far more alone and betrayed than you do now.”
Gunther had been quite confused by the old man’s words, but the old man had gently reassured him that they would make sense in his future. Gunther had smiled amiably in response, dismissing the gesture at the moment as the whims of a senile old man trying to express his gratitude.
Gunther had spoken no further about the matter to the old man, as the morning visit had drawn to an end, and the stranger prepared to depart. After the old man had taken his leave, and set off again on his path, Gunther had stood just outside of his front doorway, savoring the serenity of his immediate surroundings. His heart felt very peaceful as he listened to the rustling of the leaves, and he had never felt more convinced that he had selected the ideal place to live out the rest of his years.
He had then held the medallion up by its leather cord, and taken his first close examination of the small pendant. It was nothing exceedingly ornate, but it held a decided elegance within its simplicity. It was a circular, silver medallion with the upward-pointing, spear-shaped symbol of the Redeemer worked into one of its facings. The opposite side was entirely smooth, devoid of any symbol or other manner of design.
Gunther breathed a heavy sigh, thinking back on those old memories, especially of the moment that the flesh of his fingers had first touched the silver object. The instant that Gunther’s skin had made contact with the cool metal, he had felt a sudden wave of light-headedness roll over him. He had also felt a deep-penetrating tingle that had coursed throughout his body, from head to foot.
Whether it was just mere coincidence, or there was some sort of strange power emanating from the amulet, Gunther did not know. He had been around magic often enough by that point in his life, and had already seen its power work for good and for ill.
His preference had eventually become to avoid the risk of magic altogether, at least when he had a choice in the matter. He was not about to begin altering his ways, even when there was an element of doubt. Whatever power the pendant might have possessed, Gunther had decided to stow the medallion away, and keep it safely out of sight.
His distrust of magic had only strengthened and deepened in the following years. He had even refused the villagers’ simple charms and amulets, which a few of them had offered as gifts to him after he had begun to interact periodically with the inhabitants of a few nearby locales. Gunther did not want to court any effects of magic during the mundane endeavors that he undertook, while in his self-imposed exile from the world at large. As such, the pendant had remained firmly hidden away, as year followed year.
Now, looking down upon the pendant, as if for the first time, Gunther wondered why it had not graced his neck ever since that long past day. The world had been dark enough to reach him even here, right in the heart of his refuge within the lonely outer forests of western Saxany. He knew more than ever that the world would never respect his wish to be left alone.
Tenderly, he picked up the medallion for the first time in many years, and looped the thin leather strap around his neck. He shut his eyes to steady himself as dizziness again rushed to his head, the very moment that the pendant rested against his chest. A tingling sensation permeated him, causing Gunther to physically quiver.
As if it were just seconds before, Gunther vividly remembered that very first time that he had touched the pendant. The sensations passed in due course, and a few moments later he felt like his normal self once again. Gunther wondered momentarily whether his mind had instigated the strange feelings, perhaps inventing the puissant sensations based upon his memories.
There was also the alternative view, the one that he had first feared. Perhaps his mind had nothing to do with the sensations, and the medallion really did hold some sort of hidden strength within it.
This time, however, he was not cowed by the thoughts of magic, and decided to keep the medallion on him. Closing the timber chest, he locked it up once again with the barrel-key. Digging around his dwelling, he managed to come up with some lengths of hempen rope. With them, he fabricated a makeshift harness that would allow him to carry the chest across his back.
Though rather crude in contrivance, he found that the harness insured that the chest would cause him no great strain to carry back down to Oranim. There would be time enough to find a new home or hiding place for the chest, but Gunther knew that its current location would not suffice anymore.
He conceded in his heart that, unless a wave of unexpected good fortune struck soon, he was likely going to be leaving his modest dwelling at the hillside far behind.
With a deep, melancholic exhale, Gunther stood up, shouldered the newly added weight, and went to summon the two exiles that he had brought up to the surface with him. It was time to go back into the depths.
*