It was a horse. Dru’s horse, in fact.
The steed snorted and trotted closer, visibly pleased to have found its master. The sorcerer was at least as pleased and hugged the animal tight. It was a childish notion, but here was the only other creature from his home, the only link he really had to his citadel, Sharissa, and even Sirvak. More importantly, it was proof positive that had he remained where he was, he could have easily passed through to the shrouded realm. Surely, Dru pondered as he calmed the excited horse, the path worked both ways. He just had to keep going until he found one… that is, if Rendel and the Tezerenee monstrosities were not to be found.
“Good boy,” the Vraad whispered. He stroked the steed’s backside, smoothing out its coat. As his hand went across again, it froze midway back.
Where were the saddle and bridle?
Dru carefully inspected the horse’s mouth. There were no bloody marks that indicated the animal had pulled itself loose. Nor were there signs that the saddle had been dragged off as the steed had moved through the woods. There was only one explanation that fit what the spellcaster saw before him; someone had removed the saddle.
A quick scan of the darkening landscape brought no answers. He could not see a stranger simply removing the saddle and letting a horse as fine as this one run free. It now seemed too coincidental, too, that Dru’s spell had summoned his very own animal.
His senses touched nothing out of the ordinary in the trees and bushes, yet Dru was almost certain that he was under the scrutiny of others.
The horse chose at that moment to pull away and trot back toward the direction it had originally come. Physically, the Vraad was no match for him. Used to controlling the steed by power alone, he fought fruitlessly to keep it from going any farther.
“Come back here, you misbegotten-” Sharissa had always had the way with animals. They tolerated, even liked Dru, but obeyed more because they had never had much choice.
He turned briefly to see if there was any change in Darkness, but the entity was still rolled up into some sort of obscene ball, pulsating all the while. Unwilling to lose the massive horse a second time, Dru reluctantly followed after it. He was not certain as to what he would do, but he had to do something.
It had never left his mind that this might be part of some trap. Yet, the value of the steed, for travel alone, pushed him on. If worse came to worst, he would unleash his sorcery and damn the agony it caused him afterward. A strong enough will would put down the protests of the land. He was, after all, a Vraad.
The horse continued to evade him, turning to the northeast as it somehow trotted through the wooded area without so much as a pause. Dru stumbled after it, hampered by both the clutching branches and the continual rise of the earth. He was near a hill or a ridge. The trees had obscured this fact. It could not be a high one since he had always had a fair view of the regions in the distant north, but it was high enough to tire him further than the day’s trek already had. His determination did not waver; in fact, Dru actually began to look forward to any challenge before him. His growing anger would fuel his will. Anyone seeking to cross his path would be in for a terrible awakening.
At last, he came near the top of the formation. The horse vanished over the other side, which told Dru that it was a hill, for he could hear the steed’s steps as it continued on its way. The Vraad reached the uppermost edge and took his first look at what lay on the other side.
What had been a fairly low hill on his side was a vast ridge on the other. Dru gazed down at a valley that had once likely been fertile, but had given way to dust over the centuries. That, however, was not nearly so interesting as what stood within perhaps half a mile from his present location.
A city! Not a leviathan stretching out to the horizon, but a large city nonetheless.
Dru squinted, correcting his first observation. The ruins of a city. Even from where he stood it was evident that the place was in disarray. Several towers had crumbled and the walls were little more than a jumbled mass of rock. Once, it had been a sprawling place covering a hill at least as great as the one he stood on. It was perhaps more of a vast citadel, for Dru could see that each and every building within was connected. Most were round, like spheres buried partly in the sand, but there were rectangular structures as well and even a courtyard barely visible.
Despite its ragged appearance, he knew it to have once been a place of power. The builders had been on a level equal to that of Vraad, which stirred up the question of what had happened to them. Why was this place now abandoned?
The horse had paused at the bottom of the incline, gazing up at its master with an almost impatient look. Despite the height, there was a path that allowed one fairly easy access to the valley. Dru knew he was supposed to follow the animal and knew also that whoever had sent it wanted him to know that the sorcerer was being purposely guided. That spoke of someone who wished to converse, not to kill.
“And shall we enter the dragon’s maw?” Dru whispered nonsensically to himself.
He thought of Darkness, who might revive and find him missing. Separating was perhaps not the most prudent of choices in this land, but Dru’s inquisitive, arrogant nature would not let him miss this opportunity. Even with his skills hampered, he felt more assured. Someone obviously wished to speak to him and his mind interpreted that as a need for his aid. Being Vraad, it appealed to him, eradicating all other possibilities, including a few which likely would have been seen to bear more merit, had Dru thought them through.
He started down the hill, his eyes focused more often on the decaying citadel than the path he took. Twice he almost tripped, which would have ended with him rolling the rest of the way, but luck was always with him.
At the bottom, he almost tripped again, but this time because the body in his path was so much the color of the earth it lay half-buried in, that he almost did not see it in time.
Dru’s entire situation altered in the single breath it took the sorcerer to recognize the form for what it was. Near him, the horse waited silently. It no longer seemed impatient, but rather expectant.
The Vraad reached down and touched the corpse. It lay on its stomach, but he could tell it was manlike at least. Nearly as tall as the spellcaster, it had worn finely crafted cloth garments that crumbled when his fingers ran across them. To Dru’s shock and wonder, the body, too, crumbled, collapsing within itself and blowing away with the breeze. Nothing remained after the first few seconds save a collection of fragments, mostly decor from the clothing.
How old? Dru wondered. How old and in what way would one have to die to be preserved like this?
The ravaged city no longer seemed such a wondrous place to visit. The sorcerer wiped dust from his eyes and glanced back up the way he had come. It would not be too terrible a climb…
The sun was little more than a tired remnant of its once-glorious self. Climbing the hill might not be so terrible, but could he find his way back to his companion? Even granting that Darkness stood out even in the… the true darkness… he was still too far away for Dru to locate immediately. In the dark, the spellcaster might wander off in the wrong direction.
“Serkadion Manee!” Dru cursed his own stupidity. His powers and senses now functioned, at least somewhat. It would be a simple matter of focusing on-
Something snagged his left foot and threatened to topple him to the ground. Dru looked down to see the foot, up to and including the ankle, sink beneath the rocky surface. The grip that held him was tight enough to cut off circulation. His first attempt to free himself was to kick at the slowly encroaching ground. When his mind registered the idiocy of that act, the Vraad threw caution to the wind and summoned forth his powers as best he could. Whether they worked sufficiently or not, he would strike at the underground nemesis with everything within him.