The Ten Guardians: Sacrifice©

Chapter Nine: Offspring

Jareth and Sparrow traveled silently for most of the day while maintaining a fast pace on horseback. Izreea had packed their bags with dried meats, bread, hard cheese, and a mixture of seeds and dried fruit. They ate as they traveled, stopping once at a small stream to tend to the horse’s needs. As they traveled further from the desert, the landscape began slowly changing. Although there were still predominantly sparse pine trees, they seemed to be growing larger and had thicker underbrush. Eventually, the sun began to sink below the distant mountains bringing with it the chill of night.

“Are we going to set up camp for the night?” Sparrow inquired.

He was not surprised when Jareth said they were still too close to Dule Van. A fast group of soldiers on horses could still overtake them if they stopped. Contrary to his response to the negative, however, Jareth halted his horse and dismounted.

Motioning Sparrow to stay mounted, he walked to the pack horse and began rummaging through the packs. He was methodical and kept the contents organized, but he searched three of the four large bags before he found what he was looking for. Returning to Sparrow’s side, he handed the boy a cloak. A large Symbol was stitched to the back of the cloak about twice the size of Sparrow’s head, containing a large, curved seashell and a single rune in the center, which he could now read as the symbol for “Balance.”

Jareth placed his cloak over his shoulders before mounting his horse again. Since Sparrow was behind him, he could see Jareth’s back and noticed his cloak did not have a symbol, at least not one he could see.

“Izreea put the symbol of her clan on our cloaks in case we run into any of her people. However, I would recommend wearing the cloak inside out, for now, to avoid attention.”

“We should keep moving. Between Jonathan stopping portals and Marcus stopping the council, I doubt we will be pursued. However, let’s push through the night, just in case. I’m not tired yet, and it will help us reach the warlocks sooner, and they can help us get to the garden faster,” Jareth said.

“I thought no one except the Jackals lived south of the border city?” Sparrow said inquisitively.

“There are many people that live south of Dule Van. Some were there already, and some chose to risk the Jackals and settle there. Let’s focus on putting as much distance between us and the city, then when we have a large enough head start, we can ask our questions,” he said.

Sparrow replied with a simple “alright,” while wrapping the cloak around his body to fight off the cold. There was also a hood which he gladly pulled over his head before prodding the horse to match its speed with Jareth’s horse.

Eventually, the sun gave way to its heavenly companions, and the moon and stars continued to light their path. The moon was nearly full, providing plenty of light to navigate the small winding pines, even at their steady pace.

Sparrow’s thoughts drifted as they traveled, wandering to this morning’s events in the basement of the School. He had few questions to ask Jareth in that mysterious room, even with the promise of total truth. Jareth must have assumed Sparrow had many questions for him, but for some reason, he didn’t. Contemplating this thought … Sparrow realized that he was most likely as afraid of the questions as he was of their answers.

What was I so afraid of? He thought to himself.

While considering this question, memories of that day on the auction block all those months ago began to resurface. Sparrow had thought about it before, and like usual, what stuck out the most was the jarring differences between his personality and that of the entity manifested within himself. This was followed immediately by the memory of the terrible rage and hatred emanating from the darkness, an intense madness that he had never felt before or since. Additionally, there was this fear hidden beneath the rage, but fear of what?

Knowing that this rage was somehow connected to him was a constant burden on his mind. The chance of losing control of a part of himself that he did not recognize, which could destroy those around him, was horrifying. Especially considering the fear and hatred emanating from that hidden part of himself felt so familiar. It was almost like the creature’s animosity was part of his own memories.

  Is there anything more terrible than fearing yourself? Sparrow thought just before he drifted off.

*****

Sparrow opened his eyes to see that the sun was beginning to rise over the mountains to the east. He felt pressure from his cloak against the side of the saddle he was leaning towards and realized the cloak had been holding him in place as he slept. He could feel the magic deactivate as he sat up, coming from the small of his back, and realized it was from the rune Izreea had sewed onto his cloak. He doubted it would have been strong enough to stop him from falling from a running horse, but he was still fascinated by how simple and useful the spell-thread was. He also noticed that sleeping in a saddle had dire consequences on one’s body. Jareth was still plodding along in front of Sparrow, but upon hearing his groans, Jareth stopped his horse and waited for him to come alongside him.

“Morning Sparrow,” he grunted at the boy.

Sparrow immediately noticed that Jareth wasn’t in the most pleasant of moods. Although he was obviously tired from staying up all night, that alone wasn’t enough to show such plain and open disgruntlement. They had recently injured several senior members of the largest arcane school in the known world, destroyed an ancient runic door, and were on the run to an unknown location. Sparrow felt he had the right to know if something was wrong.

“Is everything alright?” He asked as neutrally as possible.

Jareth glared at Sparrow, almost as if he was about to blame him for something. As Sparrow stared back into his face, he saw Jareth’s mind processing. The silence was heavy for several seconds before Jareth broke eye contact, looking down at his hands. After another moment, he let out a long sigh before putting his arms above his head to stretch. Then he yawned and returned to meeting Sparrow’s gaze. This time he didn’t look angry, just tired from staying up all night in a saddle and a little sad.

“Yes, Sparrow. Everything is fine regarding our journey. In fact, it is technically going much better for us,” Jareth said before plodding his horse forward slowly.

As he spoke, the look of sadness deepened slightly, and it was obvious something wrong that he was holding back. Something concerning enough that he was having difficulty controlling his emotions about it. Sparrow wanted to ask why their journey was easier and why that boon had brought him discontentment, but instead, he matched Jareth’s pace and said nothing. If there was one thing he was beginning to figure out about Jareth, he needed time to process and collect his thoughts before speaking about important things.

They plodded on in silence, the sense of urgency from the day before apparently no longer a priority.

“Sparrow,” Jareth suddenly said with a serious tone.

“Yes?”

“We can speak now about our journey. Where we are going, and what happened at the castle, if you like. We have been given an extra head start, so we no longer need to wait,” he said.

The most recent update to their situation was still on Sparrow’s mind, so he asked about that first.

 “Why were we given an extra head start?”

Jareth’s expression seemed to drift back to slight annoyance, but it was not directed at Sparrow this time. Surprisingly his voice sounded normal when he responded as if he had taken the subject in stride rather than letting it influence their interaction.

“Well, do you remember when you tied off your impressive time spell as we left the city?” Rather than waiting for Sparrow’s response, he continued. “Izreea decided to pick apart your seal and hold on to your spell to lengthen the time the spell lasted. She had been holding the spell active up until this morning without sleeping. She barely tied it off using a powerful seal that should last the rest of today. It wouldn’t stop the more powerful magi from removing themselves from the spell’s effects, but with all other castle processes slowed down, they couldn’t do much to pursue us anyway.”

Sparrow sat a moment, processing the information before he responded.

“My first thought is, how did you find out about this … and why did this information make you so upset? It seems like good news to me.”

“I do see your point when you put it that way,” Jareth said distractedly, almost under his breath.

Some time passed as Jareth sat in his thoughts, and Sparrow began to wonder if he would respond at all, but eventually, he continued.

“To answer your first question, when Izreea and I were married, Jonathan gave us a wedding present, a scrying pillar. It took him months to make, and it currently resides in the attic of our home in Dule Van. He also gave us each a scrying stone linked to the pillar.”

Jareth’s hand absentmindedly touched a small lump on his chest, barely noticeable unless you knew what you were looking for.

It must be a very small stone, Sparrow thought to himself.

Jareth continued. “Anyone can use the scrying pillar to speak to someone holding a linked scrying stone, as long as they aren’t behind wards or protective runes and the like. So, this morning when Izreea awoke, she contacted and updated me.

Now to answer your second question, I’ll have to share some rather personal information with you. However, I did invade your mind and force your true name out of you, so I feel you deserve a full answer.” Jareth stopped for a moment, then continued after a thoughtful pause. “I’ve never been comfortable discussing things like this with anyone outside my family, and it will take some back story. Bear with me, please.”

Sparrow nodded in agreement.

“My wife, Izreea, is a dardwain. Her people are very powerful in magic, but not like humans. Humans are lucky if they are born with the gift, and trainable humans number less than one percent of our entire species. The dardwain are all able to use magic. Magic is even required for their procreation. Thus, they are literal inheritors of magic. That magic has to come from somewhere, and it has to come from a significant supply readily available for use. The mother of the offspring provides that supply.

“It takes several decades to save up the required magic. During this time, the magic is stored in the woman’s body, separate from the normal day-to-day magic use they practice. However, in desperate times the woman can tap into that supply to cast powerful spells. There are many stories of heroine in their history, valiant dardwain women who sacrificed their stored magic for the greater good of their people and sometimes the world. Using this magic to save people from harm is considered the ultimate sacrifice to her people, who take great joy in the few children they can have.”

 At this point, Jareth paused for a moment, and when he continued, his tone had switched from lecturer to quiet confider.

“Izreea is very strong in magic, but that spell of yours is potent, and she was already exhausted from staying up all night setting the traps in the castle’s basement. In addition to holding the time spell active, there were a few Elders either outside the area of effect of the spell or strong enough to break free of it, and they were trying to find the source of the spell and stop it. So, for her to hold the spell open for that long while resisting deactivation and detection spells … she had to tap into that stored magical supply of hers.”

After a brief pause, he continued in a somber voice.

“Izreea had a very rough night Sparrow, a very rough night. I have no idea how she can know these things, but according to her, she might have used up to a year’s worth of storage, probably a little less. She has been storing magic for almost three decades, so one year is fairly insignificant in that context, but it was still not the most pleasant news to receive. It just made me feel far away and … helpless.”

Sparrow felt like this was partially his fault, so he didn’t quite know what to say, but he gave it a shot.

 “I’m sorry, Jareth. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

Jareth quickly interrupted him, saying, “Oh no, don’t take it like that. I’m not going to blame you for Izreeas decision, and I didn’t mean to sound accusatory before. We have just been trying to have a child for many years, and … it is what it is.”

Sparrow knew this topic and struggle were important to his mentor, and he wanted to know what to say to comfort him, but the entire concept was foreign to him. He wasn’t even human, even if he was in the body of one. An adolescent even. He really didn’t know what more to say, and after a few moments of increasingly uncomfortable silence, Jareth changed the topic.

“Well, enough about that. What else did you have questions about, Sparrow?”

Sparrow wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass to ask questions as he did in the school’s basement. He had plenty of questions he needed answers to.

“Well, I think you partially answered one of my questions; you mentioned that Izreea set traps in the castle’s basement and that she had been doing it all night. Yet I didn’t see any traps when we entered the room?”

“That’s correct; she had help from Jonathan in setting the traps, and although I have never met her, a friend of Jonathan’s helped hide the traps by bending light around them,” Jareth explained.

“How were Izreea, Jonathan, and the horses not affected by my time spell?”

Jareth gave a small smile at that question as he was not anticipating such a simple question, yet their immunity had been unexpected for Sparrow, so he was curious.

“I mentioned before that dardwain are naturally strong in magic, and Izreea is of royal blood. Distantly, but still blessed with their strength. She could probably outmatch Jonathan and me simultaneously if necessary, without using her stored supply of magic. It would have influenced her if she wasn’t expecting the spell, but she expected something like that to happen and shielded the area around the barn where they were standing.”

“Alright, then, what garden are we trying to reach? You speak as if it’s more than a simple flower garden,” Sparrow asked.

“The garden is a grove of trees inside the base of a mountain, which we believe was created at a turning point in the world’s history. The grove of trees is made entirely of stone … let me say that again Sparrow the Garden is a grove of trees … made of stone.”

Jareth stared at Sparrow in earnest as if the repetitive information was supposed to mean something to the boy, but Sparrow had no idea what Jareth wanted him to understand.

“Like statues?” Sparrow asked timidly.

He knew he was incorrect before the words exited his mouth, yet his instructor seemed all the more excited.

“Not at all, Sparrow, but it is one of the most fascinating sights. We are trying to reach there because I believe the meadow nearby holds the key to who you truly are, and it will help you rediscover your purpose,” he said.

“Why are you helping me?” Sparrow suddenly asked, almost interrupting Jareth. “I have no idea who I am, what I am, what my purpose is, why I was created, or why I am in a human’s body!” he said with fervor.

Jareth stared at Sparrow in surprise, but Sparrow continued without waiting for a response, speaking faster as the words flowed.

“You know what happened on the auction block that day, how I killed that creature to try and fight the crowd. You saw the entity inside of me when you were in my mind! I could be dangerous! I could lose control! I could hurt or kill someone without even knowing it! Maybe the High Elders were right about removing my abili-”

“That’s enough, Sparrow!” Jareth shouted, but not unkindly. “I need you to take a deep breath while counting to three,” he said.

It was only then that Sparrow realized that he was having a hard time breathing. He gasped for breath a few times, then struggled to take a long deep breath. Eventually, he succeeded. Once that was done, Sparrow did as requested by inhaling deeply, then holding it as he counted to three before letting it all out.

Sparrow was sitting on the slow-moving horse, staring at his hands holding the reigns. He was breathing long and deep, counting to three with each breath for several breaths, when he suddenly felt a reassuring hand on his arm.

Sparrow looked up to see the earnest face of Jareth, who met his gaze and spoke slowly and clearly. “We all have our demons to conquer. Some are symbolic of the limitations we place upon ourselves, and some are more real than life. Be they real or imaginary demons … you will not face them alone.”

Sparrow met his gaze, felt his sincerity, and slowly nodded his head, then he closed his eyes and breathed steadily, listening to the steady stomp of the horse’s hooves. He wasn’t quite sure what had happened, just that his fear was so strong it had interrupted his breathing and speech. He did not like it and hoped it would never happen again.

After a few moments, Jareth interrupted his thoughtful meditation. “I am ready to answer your question now, Sparrow.”

Sparrow stared at him in bewilderment for a few moments before he remembered that amidst the frantic ramblings that had just taken place, he had indeed asked Jareth a question.

“Why are you helping me?” Sparrow asked again, almost as if to question the asking of the question.

Jareth smiled with a small nod, “Yes, that’s the one. Well, there is a really long version and a short version. Which would you like?”

“We have time. Let’s do the long version,” Sparrow said.

Behind him, he could hear the snorting of the pack horse, but that wasn’t that unusual. It was a horse, after all.

Jareth cleared his throat to begin his story when the pack horse uttered a terrified squeal and bolted forward at full gallop! The pack horse raced past Jareth on his right side. However, its reigns had been tied to Jareth’s saddle. Jareth’s horse was jerked violently to the side when the reins tightened, but thankfully the leather snapped before it could knock his horse completely over.

After a moment of shock, Jareth shouted, “After him! Hyah!” And galloped after the pack horse.

Sparrow then heard the sound of a roar somewhere behind him, unbelievably shrill and deafening. He couldn’t even process what it could be or look behind him to see its source because his horse had bolted on its own, terrified beyond reason. He felt the pressure of the cloak try to steady him, and even with its help, it took all of his effort to hold on to the galloping horse as it bolted in sheer terror.

Sparrow could see that Jareth was in front of him. He was not sure if it was out of training or instinct, but Sparrow’s horse appeared to be following Jareth’s horse. This was a good thing since Sparrow had no control over the horse at this point.

Sparrow noticed Jareth look over his shoulder behind him and assumed he was just checking to see if Sparrow was following. Still, he soon realized that Jareth was looking past him, searching with his eyes as if trying to find something. Glancing over his shoulder was risky since he was holding on for dear life, but Sparrow managed to take a quick glance but didn’t see anything.

They continued to run at full gallop for what felt like hours, which was, in reality, only a few minutes. Sparrow noticed his horse was beginning to create a lather on its flanks, and its sides were heaving from heavy breathing, but the horse refused to slow down. Sparrow was getting the hang of riding with the rhythm of the galloping horse, so he could pay more attention to the minor details of what was happening.

Jareth seemed to be taking things in stride. He was consistently looking forward at the pack horse to ensure he did not lose sight of the animal, then quickly looking around as if searching for something. He would also turn and scan the area behind them every thirty seconds. Sparrow was now positive that he was searching for something behind them.

Sparrow heard the same shrill roar as before, except this time, it was clearly to their right and much further away. There were additional roars of different pitches that sounded like animals fighting. The sounds faded as if the animals making the noises were running in the opposite direction of them.

The horse still appeared terrified and showed no signs of slowing down, even with the animal noises fading away. Sparrow looked behind one more time but couldn’t see anything. Turning back, he was surprised to see Jareth standing in his saddle. Jareth then jumped directly into the air!

He must have been using magic because he jumped much higher than any human could have jumped. As Sparrow galloped underneath him, he could make out the emotions of confidence and assuredness on his face. Then Sparrow saw a glowing, flickering staff in his hands that appeared to be made of pure lightning. He held the staff above his head as if bringing it down to strike something.

Sparrow turned his head to see his landing but was surprised to see him slam his staff onto something about ten feet above the ground. A bolt of lightning shot out of the cloudless sky, slamming through the staff and into the creature Jareth had landed on. The skeletal structure of what appeared to be a wingless dragon was seen as the lightning slammed through its body and into the earth. The creature flew backward into the brush about thirty paces away, knocking over small trees.

Sparrow turned his head quickly forward to make sure his horse was not running into anything and noticed the animal had already started to slow down. Ahead of him, he saw the pack horse standing next to Jareth’s horse, and Sparrow’s horse slowed to a stop when it reached them, all panting heavily. Sparrow bent forward, grabbed the reins of Jareth’s horse and the broken reins from the pack horse, and turned them around to walk slowly back to Jareth.

As they approached Jareth, Sparrow noticed he was standing over the beast’s body and looking down at it. He still had the staff in his hand, which occasionally crackled with electricity. The animal was dying, yet was still struggling to breathe. It was covered in hard scales about the size of Sparrow’s hand, but they were very difficult to look at. They appeared to adopt the color scheme of the ground and trees around it, like a camouflage, tricking your eyes to look past the beast. The fact that he couldn’t see it when looking behind him from the back of a horse at full gallop was no longer a surprise.

There was a large black patch on the upper shoulder of the beast, most likely where Jareth had struck with his staff, and its left foot, where the lightning exited its body into the earth, was charred and crippled. Even though the scales at the impact of the shoulder were badly burnt, they still tried to trick your eyes into sliding past them.

As Sparrow was taking in the beauty of this deadly hunter, it suddenly stopped breathing. Immediately the scales lost their magical power of aversion, all of them turned the natural brown of any desert lizard, and the beast was plain to see. A wingless dragon that ran on all fours with a large but sleek jaw with rows of sharp teeth.

Jareth touched his staff to the earth, and the energy of it immediately dissipated into the ground at their feet. Sparrow momentarily felt his hair stand on end as the energy dissipated around them. Jareth bent forward and placed his hand on the head of the beast.

“I’m sorry you suffered in the end. That was not my intention.”

Jareth put his right hand on the shoulder of the beast, and his hand began to glow red against the scales. After about two minutes, there was the distinct sound of metal cracking, and Jareth pulled his hand away with a scale. Under the scale was the smooth skin one would expect to find, soft and vulnerable. Then he began drawing something underneath the scale for a few moments before turning it over and drawing something on the other side. To Sparrow’s surprise, he placed the scale back on the body of the beast directly where he had removed it. He placed his hand on the scale and said some magic words under his breath. His hand glowed a deep yellow, then turned into a bright yellow that was hard to look at. This only lasted a moment before the glow faded, and he pulled his hand away, revealing that the scale was reattached to the drake as if it had never been removed. On the surface of the scale was a symbol, glowing faintly with white light.

Jareth had said nothing through all of this, but once he was finished, Sparrow said, “I thought you said there were no dragons left?”

“I said we didn’t know if any were left, but regardless, that wasn’t a dragon. That was a drake. It’s like an extremely distant cousin to a dragon. They are far smaller than dragons, do not have wings, cannot breathe fire, and cannot cast spells,” Jareth explained.

“Are all of them hard to see like that?” Sparrow asked with some concern as his eyes unconsciously darted around them.

Jareth was inspecting the horses for injuries from their forced run, checking their legs and flanks for wounds. He responded as he worked.

“Oh no, there are many different kinds. That kind is called a spectral drake. They are fairly rare and very territorial. Because of that, we shouldn’t run into any more of those or any other drakes.”

“How did you see it?” Sparrow asked.

Jareth was walking over to inspect the pack horse with the broken part of the rein from his saddle in his hand. He seemed to be ignoring Sparrow as he inspected the pack horse from head to toe. He then held the two pieces of the reins, one in each hand, and slid them together. They were magically rejoined the moment they touched. He grabbed the horse by the head and looked it straight in the eye. He sat there for almost a full minute before the horse nuzzled his cheek as if to say, “You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry, Sparrow, I was just thanking our friend here. I’m unsure if he saw or smelled the drake, but his bolting probably saved our lives. What was it you asked me?” He said.

Sparrow repeated the question as they both mounted on their horses. Jareth started them off at a fast walk, seeming to still know where they were and which way they were going before he responded.

“Well, only spectral drakes can throw their voices like that,” he said.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Sparrow admitted.

“Oh, did you hear what sounded like a drake and another animal fighting some distance away, and then the sounds faded?” Jareth asked.

Sparrow nodded.

“That wasn’t real. Spectral drakes are very intelligent hunters. They can throw voices to make the prey they are chasing feel safe. As if the drake chasing them caught another animal, so they feel that they can stop running. Only spectral drakes can do that. Once I heard how quickly the animal noises faded, I knew to look for the shimmering of its scales.”

Knowledge truly is power, Sparrow thought to himself.

Jareth led them almost directly to a water source so he could replenish their supplies and water the horses, and then redirected them the way they had been traveling, due south. For some reason, Sparrow felt awkward asking Jareth to answer the question he had asked him before the drake had shown up, and he wasn’t exactly sure why.

They continued their steady pace into the late afternoon without saying much when suddenly Sparrow noticed Jareth’s shoulders drooping. He realized that Jareth had been awake for two days straight, had fought and killed a drake, and must be exhausted. He was also their guide, so having him fall asleep could be dangerous.

“Jareth, I think we need to make camp soon,” Sparrow said humbly, hoping he would take the advice.

Jareth shook himself to shake the sleep out of his eye and said, “What, you’re tired?” followed by a forced laugh.

The unexpected joke caught Sparrow off guard, so he just stared at him for a moment before smiling in response.

“You’re right, of course, Sparrow. I need to rest, and we have made plenty of ground. Let me contact Izreea before we stop to make camp,” Jareth said as he fished a necklace out of the front of his tunic.

The chain was made of tiny silver links, and on the end of the chain was a stone, perfectly round and smooth, deep black, and about the size of a robin’s egg. The stone was encased in a circular wire cage that matched the chain. Jareth touched the chain to his forehead and let it fall against his chest. The stone glowed a very faint red, then began to pulse. This pulsing continued for several minutes until it began to glow a solid red. At the same time, a light projected directly out of the stone before stopping at arm’s length in front of Jareth’s face. Then the face of Izreea appeared from the shoulders up.

Sparrow realized that this wasn’t just a verbal communication device; it could also project an image of someone. The occasional swirl of magic momentarily blurred her face, so it wasn’t a perfect image. He also could see that Izreea looked terrible. She looked like someone who overslept and was still rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Her hair was everywhere, and there was straw and what appeared to be white feathers from a small bird mixed in with the tangled mess.

“Hey, Izzy, sorry for waking you,” Jareth said like a typically doting husband.

“If you were closer, I would punch you,” Izreea said sleepily, but not without a sense of humor.

“The humans, sorry, I mean the magi. Wait,  Elders …  no … gifted? Whatever it is! They wouldn’t leave me alone, asking questions about you, not that I blame them. So I eventually fell asleep in the loft of the stables to avoid them,” Izreea said sleepily.

“I’m sorry they wouldn’t leave you alone, but … Jonathan did it,” Jareth said with a small smile.

“Riiiiiight … anyways,” Izreea said slowly, obviously not impressed.

Jareth laughed openly before continuing, “Well, I wanted to let you know that we ran into a spectral drake about a day’s gallop past the city’s tree line.”

Izreea suddenly looked alarmed, and her voice rose, “Did you-” before Jareth interrupted her.

“Yes, Dear, as an adopted member of your clan, I followed the proper custom for killing drakes in self-defense,” Jareth said in a tone that made it obvious that he knew exactly what she was going to ask him.

“Did you mark-”

“Yes, I marked a scale with a beacon so your clan could find it for harvest and burial. I’ll try to send a message through the warlocks to speed up the process before it starts to decompose.”

“I thought we agreed you should go through the canyon and avoid the warlocks,” Izreea said with a scowl and a disapproving voice.

“They are the only ones that know the land well enough to open a portal chain, which will take weeks off our journey,” Jareth explained.

“You know I don’t love the idea of you dealing with warlocks. They are so unpredictable. One group of locks will mimic your school and be productive and friendly, and the next group you find will practice blood magic and try to sacrifice you to a dead tree or the moon or who knows what,” Izreea said with passion.

Jareth smiled as she lectured. Both of them knew it wouldn’t change his mind, but he had the respect to hear her out all the same.

When she finished, he only responded, “I love you too, Izzy.”

“Good. Now get some sleep. You look terrible,” she said with a wink before her image faded.

The stone around Jareth’s neck no longer glowed as he tucked it into his shirt with a small chuckle.

They dismounted and began making camp for the night. Sparrow had never set up a camp, which was glaringly obvious as Jareth had to instruct him in practically every step of the process. He was patient despite his exhaustion, and in the end, they succeeded in building a lean-to with plenty of room for bedrolls and saddles underneath. Although the fire was unnecessary for cooking since all they had was dried meats and fruits, Jareth went ahead and created a magical fire to fight off the cold with a minor seal that would last most of the evening.

Jareth asked Sparrow to unsaddle and picket the horses by some grass, something he did know how to do since riding was a required class at the school of Dule Van. As Sparrow took care of the horses, Jareth gathered some stones off the ground, each about the size of his fist. He etched runes on the stones so they had a faint red glow and positioned them in a circle around the camp about thirty paces from its center in each direction.

“What are those for?” Sparrow asked as Jareth returned to the campsite from placing the last stone.

“Ward stones, all they will do is set off a small alarm in the back of my mind if they detect anything crossing the circle,” Jareth said as he picked up the saddle Sparrow had placed on the ground and moved it underneath the lean-to.

As Jareth began unpacking some food from one of the saddlebags, Sparrow noticed the sun beginning to descend over the horizon, and in the fading light, he could see the dim glow of the ward stones. They couldn’t have been brighter than the phosphorous plants he had seen in the magi’s garden, but they were impossible to miss in the dark.

“Doesn’t the glow defeat the purpose of a ward stone?” Sparrow asked.

“I guess that depends on what you believe my purpose is in setting the stones,” Jareth responded as he sat by the fire with his dried meat, berries, and a water flask.

Sparrow knew that Jareth often spoke cryptically but with an instructor’s eagerness, urging you to see past the words and learn the lesson he truly wanted you to learn. However, now he simply sounded tired, and Sparrow believed his word choice was merely a force of habit.

Almost as if to confirm his suspicions, Jareth plowed ahead with the information he normally would dole out through an educational conversation, speaking quickly and impatiently.

“If I wanted to set a trap where the target is unaware of my presence, I would use a ward stone or a hidden glyph. However, I would much rather make our presence recognizable so people leave us alone, especially someone who can recognize magic when they see it.”

Jareth paused his speech momentarily while standing from the fire and walking towards his student.

“I’m sorry, Sparrow, I’m just tired. That was a good question, and honestly, I should have taught you how to do it instead of taking care of it myself.”

Sparrow knew his mentor was exhausted and meant no offense but didn’t know how to respond, so he smiled and gave a small nod.

Jareth clapped a hand on Sparrow’s shoulder.

 “Oh, and the wards are red because it won’t attract certain animals that cannot see that color, and it’s easier on human eyes at night in case one of us needs to relieve ourselves.”

That said, Jareth crawled into his bedroll and turned away from the fire to sleep.

Sparrow was tired, but he didn’t feel quite like sleeping. He pulled a log up to the fire and sat down. As he looked into the fire, he noticed something on the ground out of the corner of his eye, right by his feet.  He bent down and picked up what felt like cloth wrapped around something soft. He opened the cloth to find that Jareth had prepared his dinner. The dried meat and berries were a welcome meal, and Sparrow took his time eating as he stared into the fire.

After some time, he could hear the soft snoring of Jareth as he slept. It wasn’t long until the seal on the fire wore away, slowly dissolving until the fire winked out. Sparrow blinked in the darkness, letting his eyes adjust to the light from the moon and stars. After a moment, he could see well enough to feel safe walking without tripping on anything in the dark.

 He stood while stretching his sore riding muscles and headed towards his bedroll. As Sparrow walked the short distance to the lean-to, he scanned the forest, looking for the ward stones. Sure enough, he could see the faint red glow of the stones in the distance around the camp. As he walked, Sparrow noticed one of the stones blink out for a moment before returning to its normal soft glow. He stopped walking and stared at the glowing stone. After some time, nothing happened. He decided it was just a tree or bush passing in front of the stone as he walked. They were ward stones, after all. There was nothing to worry about. He crawled into his bedroll and set himself to fall asleep.

*****

Sparrow knew it was not a dream the moment he gained awareness. The entire feel of the world around him was too similar to the world in which Jareth had entered his mind to find his true name. There was no mistaking that feeling, but it did not look the same as before. Instead of the perpetual grayness that had been all around him as before, he was standing in their campsite, and everything was perfectly clear as if a shadow had been lifted from his mind.

He could tell it was still the middle of the night. The fire gave off its normal light and felt inviting and warm. There were woods around him, and the lean-to was there as well. Sparrow began to doubt his instincts and wondered if he was actually awake.

“You know better than that,” a voice spoke into the recesses of his mind.

The voice was female. It was not a harsh voice, there was no malice or unkindness in the voice, but neither was it inviting. There was an edge to it that suggested he was being tested, but for what purpose, he could not say.

“Who are you?” Sparrow asked calmly.

The voice seemed to ignore him and repeated the same message.

“You know better than that,” before adding, “Mies Seibas.“

Sparrow knew the meaning of the words the moment they were spoken, my Sweet. The pet name felt familiar to him as well, very familiar. Was it a term of endearment? Or was he being taunted? The name also brought with it a charring memory, or rather the distant shadow of a painful memory. He felt grief, love, and despair, all in that order.

Sparrow focused on the message as a whole. What was it he was supposed to be better at? He realized the voice first spoke when he had doubted his surroundings, thinking about not being asleep.

Looking around the campsite, he began picking out oddities, the first being that Jareth was nowhere to be found. There were also no saddles or packs, and no horses for that matter, not even a trace of horses. The fire on the ground was burning with logs, and the fire they had created in their camp was magically imbued by Jareth, so it had no logs. There were no glowing ward stones out in the distance around the camp, and the trees around him were giant leaf trees instead of the sparse pine trees they had predominantly seen on their journey.

Although he knew this was not a dream, he was certainly not awake. He opened his mouth to state as much when he again heard the woman’s voice in his mind.

“Very good, mies seibas. I knew you would find your path, although I did not anticipate you forgetting so much in your purging.” The voice paused momentarily, almost as if taking a breath before continuing. “I have a gift for you. Knowledge of who you truly are, information that none have given you thus far … although perhaps you just haven’t asked the right questions. I wish I could do more, but even after all this time, I am still not restored. The darkness is too oppressive.”

 The voice grew weaker the longer it spoke, and there were pauses now and again as if the speaker was catching their breath. Sparrow also noticed the world around him was fading as the voice faded. He could see completely through most of the trees now, and nothing remained of the fire except a faint glow. Even the ground was beginning to blur.

“I have enjoyed our little game, mies seibas. Farewell.”

The last few words were spoken as if the speaker was falling asleep as they conversed, then fell silent as sleep, or something else, overcame them. Sparrow found himself again in the perpetual gray nothingness, with just a hint of light around his immediate person.

He felt perfectly comfortable here. He remembered his previous experience and how he had fully claimed ownership of this place by casting out someone he had called “Ultaris,” or should he say something? Sparrow was fairly certain it was not the real Ultaris, more like a shade or remaining echo of the real Ultaris. He appeared as a human while making great claims of ownership, bargaining with someone unrealized for something unrealized. He had no other memories of the creature or how he knew its name.

Sparrow began to wonder what exactly the world around him was and why he was still blind to it. He could feel firmness below his feet and knew there were trees nearby even though he could not see them, yet even with Ultaris banished from this place, his vision was constrained. What was restricting him?

He also did not understand how he got there. Jareth used a spell of some kind to reach this place, which required touch, yet an unknown force pulled him here in his sleep. Also, why was he still here if the force that brought him here was gone?

Sparrow’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he began to notice something. All around him, there was a faint shimmer in the endless gray. There were colors in the shimmering, mostly browns and greens, but mixed with specks of light that blinked as if they were two sides of a coin spinning in the air. The sparkles appeared to move and flow around him as if they were caught up in a windstorm. Then they began to concentrate on certain areas with spaces in-between each pocket of colors and light, all of which now appeared to stretch high into the air.

Eventually, the bottom sparkles, most of which were brown now, began to be thinner than the colors and lights high in the air, which were now mostly green. The greens in the sky appeared to be interlacing and connecting to some degree, and all of the colors began to solidify, with the lights disappearing altogether.

“Trees?” Sparrow whispered in amazement.

The entire process only took a few seconds, but when it was finished, there were massive leaf trees to his left and right, all part of an ancient forest. In front and behind him, there appeared to be an unseen path or road cutting through the trees. The path was wide enough for two wagons to ride abreast, and he could see the dip and rise of hills in the distance as the ground moved along the hills.

This effect was especially unnerving because he couldn’t see the ground, the sky, or the light source that revealed the distant trees. Each tree just shot out of the nothingness around it, layered with the hills so that the trunks of some trees began high in the air above his head, and he could see the tops of trees in the far distance below him as the ground sloped downward.

Sparrow looked around in stunned amazement, turning in a circle as he gaped at the giants jutting out of the nothingness around him. As he turned, he saw a figure standing amongst the trees directly along the path, not five paces from him. The figure was the same color as the grayness around him, and the only reason he could see the shape was because of the tree standing directly behind it, giving it a perfect silhouette. It was a humanoid with its arms folded in front of it, about as tall as he was. He felt the figure’s gaze on him but felt no malice or danger, just observation.

Sparrow stepped towards the shadow, opening his mouth to ask who was there when the shadowed figure realized it had been noticed. With a genuinely surprised squeak of someone caught doing something they knew they shouldn’t have done, the figure whirled around and instantly vanished. Sparrow looked around for a gray shape darting between trees but saw nothing. It was as if it had disappeared completely. At the last moment, before it was gone, Sparrow thought he saw the shadowed outline of loose clothes instead of legs on the bottom half, possibly a skirt or robe, and he certainly saw the shadow of a long-braided lock of hair being flipped around as the figure whirled.