Alf focused all his of thoughts and energy into running away. He wanted to put as much distance between him and Vackzilian—and the death of his friend—as possible.
By the time they reached the fork in the road, sweat drenched Alf from head-to-toe. Physically and mentally exhausted, he turned on to the Belkin forest road and slowed his pace to a jog.
Zachariahs was gone.
Carlos was gone.
And this was only the beginning, Alf knew. If Vackzilian was left to his own devices, he would continue to wreak havoc across the land. As these thoughts paraded through his mind, the magnitude and importance of his mission began to settle on his shoulders. This wasn't a simple adventure. This was life and death. Father in heaven, he prayed, give me the strength to endure. Guide my feet and grant me wisdom to know what I must do.
As Alf prayed, he let his body fall into a smooth, rhythmic pace.
For the next twenty minutes, he kept this steady pace until, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a child scamper into the forest. Alf stopped, grateful for the break, as Olivia ran after the little girl.
"Leave the butterfly alone," Olivia chided.
"But I wanted it."
Tilting his head to the sky, Alf breathed in the moist jungle air. Then he looked back behind him. More than half of the people were sitting down.
Staring at them in curiosity, Alf took an experimental step forward, and like magic, the people floated along with him.
Some of the heaviness in his heart lifted at seeing the strange phenomenon. Even in the darkness, there was hope. These people could rebuild their lives. They could pick themselves back up and start to live again all because of Zachariahs' sacrifice. His story would be told from generation to generation, and he would live on in the hearts of his people.
"I'm ready," Olivia called, rejoining the line with the girl in her arms.
Alf picked back up his pace, ever so often glancing over his shoulder.
What a funny picture, he thought. Everybody is floating forward like ducks gliding along the water. His gaze fell to the ground lying a few inches beneath them and watched as it raced by. If only I'd had this when I was younger. I could've followed Harold everywhere—like a baby duck, and with that thought, he rolled his eyes and laughed as he turned his attention back to the road.
Sometime later, as they neared Brockovich, Drake strolled up next to Alf and sat down beside him. Alf smiled as the prince sat there, floating in the air, while he did all the work.
Drake grinned back at him and said, "This skill is far more useful than even I thought. I can only begin to imagine the impact something like this could have in battle. It may very well be the sole thing that enables us to take back the Empire."
The light in his eyes dimmed, and Drakovian's grin faded away.
"I'm glad you were able to think of this strategy," he said looking off into the distance. "In fact, your decisions today made me realize that my view of the world is flawed. You... You have something that I don't."
Alf glanced down at him and contemplated how he should respond. After a moment, he said, "No, Drake, I don't." He shook his head, "I'm nothing special. It's the one true God I serve. He is the one who enables me and teaches me. Just today he saved my life, and he has done so many times before."
Drakovian's attention returned to him and he glanced up, his eye brows furled. "God you serve?"
"Has anyone ever told you about Jesus before?"
"Yes," Drake said with a slight hint of exasperation. "My father has many times, and I'll tell you the same thing I told him. I don't believe in religion. It only does two things to people."
"What's that?" Alf asked as he stepped over a loose rock on the road.
"It makes them become self-destructive idiots and fools who can be easily manipulated into destroying their lives for someone else's selfish gain," Drake replied.
"Or," he said, "it makes them into helpless people who wait around for some invisible being to make their worthless lives better, instead of getting off their backside's and doing something themselves."
Those were pretty harsh words, but as Alf took them in and thought about it, he realized they were actually quite true. "You know what Drake, I agree with you," he said at last.
Drake's eyes grew big, and he started to drop to the ground.
Seeing him fall, Alf reached out and grabbed him by the back of his shirt.
For a moment, the prince hung there like a stunned cub grabbed by the scruff of his neck. Then, realizing what had happened, he concentrated on following Alf again.
As Drake stabilized, Alf let him go.
"Sorry, and thanks," the prince said, trying to hide his embarrassment.
Alf smiled to himself, "No problem."
Settling back into place, a perplexed scowl crossed the prince's face. "But I thought you were a devout follower of your God."
"I am."
Drake's perplexed scowl turned into a full on frown as his eyebrows scrunched together, "But you just said you agree with me."
"I did," Alf said. "You said what religion does to people, and I have to agree. I've seen many manipulated and taken advantage of by religious people. I'm sad to say there is also a lot of those that even claim to believe as I do and live lazy, self-absorbed lives, but what I'm talking about is not religion, it is a fellowship. My God is a living God, and he is my friend, as well as my King and Lord. I talk to him all the time, and he talks to me too. A lot of the time he's correcting me and chastising me for doing something wrong or stupid, but he also tells me he loves me, and he's proven it over and over by always being there for me. Without him, I'd be lost."
The spymaster sat back and gazed out unseeingly at the passing flora. Eventually, he said, "I've never heard anyone talk about God in such a way."
As the prince contemplated Alf's words, he drifted into silence. Then the direction of the road changed ever-so-slightly.
"Turn in here," Drake said, pointing to a small clearing hidden behind the trees.
Alf nodded and slowed to a walk as he weaved his way through the trees and into the clearing they had departed from earlier that morning. In the distance, he could hear the faint caws of the local birds and chittering of the town monkeys. It was good to be home, even if only for a few hours.
As Drake started to stand to his feet, Alf quietly said, "I'd like to talk more with you about this later. If you want to, that is."
The prince slowly nodded, "I'll think about it, but first, I need to inform Harold of what is taking place. He'll want these people to swear an oath of secrecy before they enter Brockovich."
Alf rolled his eyes and chuckled, "You're right. He will. But only you two would remember such a thing."
"Humph," Drake harrumphed. "It's a good thing some of us use our brains or we would all end up being roasted on a spit," the prince said, then merged seamlessly into the tree line and disappeared.
"Where are we?" the man Alf recognized as Johnson asked him from behind. "I remember Brockovich being at the end of the road."
"It used to be," Alf told him. "But we've had to beef up security with all that's going on. The headmaster will explain it to you. I sent someone to retrieve him, so he'll be with us shortly."
It felt weird for Alf to refer to Harold in such a formal way, but he had decided if Drake was going to keep his identity a secret maybe he should too. At least, for the moment anyway.
"I see."
The man's eyes gleamed with curiosity, but Alf was too exhausted to explain. Instead, he searched for a soft patch of grass and plopped himself down.
"You okay?" Olivia strode over and took a seat beside him cross-legged.
"Yeah, just tired," he answered, wiping the sweat from his brow. Today had been a long day, and it wasn't even noon yet.
"The spell?"
"That, and the run," he said. "You know, I don't think I've ever really ran before this. I've had a few sprints here and there since, well, since the whole changing thing, but I've never actually done any long distance running."
She smiled, her topaz eyes sparkling in the shade. "Well you did pretty good then, seeing as you made a two-hour trip by horseback in," she glanced towards the sun. "I'd say just a little bit over an hour."
"Just pretty good?" Alf laughed. "Sounds like I'm a world-class athlete to me."
"Oh, don't go getting a big head or I might just have to cut you down to size," she teased, waving her hand threateningly.
Alf laughed once more, and the weight of the day vanished. It was the first time Olivia had joked with him since he'd died. He had to admit, it was nice to hear her laugh again. Maybe they could still go back to being close friends, and maybe someday...
Harold, Ice, and Mister Allender emerged from the edge of the clearing, and Alf started reluctantly standing to his feet.
Olivia reached up and touched his arm. "It's okay. Let them handle it, you rest."
"You sure?"
She nodded, "You wouldn't be of much help anyway in your current state, and I need to reserve my energy if we're still going later today."
"I see," he said and plopped himself down.
They sat there for a moment, watching the survivors crowd around Harold and the others.
A soft breeze blew through the shin-high grass, and the moist smell of the lake tickled Alf's nose—he thought he could smell pastries too, but that just might be his imagination.
As the headmaster's voice filled the clearing Olivia said, "Alf, about you hitting Drake."
Alf's breath caught in his throat and an overwhelming sense of guilt flooded him. "I...," he started to say but words escaped him.
Olivia fiddled with the grass, weaving the green blades between her fingers, "Thank you," she whispered.
Alf stopped and blinked. Unable to believe his ears, he turned to stare at her.
The top of Olivia's cheeks warmed and she looked away. "It's not that I approve of you hitting him but..." she trailed off into silence.
Understanding struck Alf as he gazed at the golden highlights running through her long, dark hair—a feature which served as a constant reminder of who Olivia really was.
Last night, hearing Elena's story had terrified him. He could only imagine what it must have been like for her living beneath such a constant threat. Olivia was already sought after by all the nobles for her healing abilities. If they had known she was also a holy user...
Opening his mouth, Alf started to say 'Don't worry, I'll protect you,' but stopped when he realized how cheesy that would sound. Instead, he sat there in awkward silence as Harold droned on in the background.
After several moments, Olivia uncrossed her legs and started to stand.
Alf scrambled for something to say; he didn't want her to leave yet. "Hey, you never told me. What did you see you in the woods before the pigs attacked us?"
She stopped and her eyes clouded over. "I'm not sure what I saw," she said sitting back down. "Everything is so much clearer now, and there's a lot to take in, so it's a little disorienting but," Olivia gazed out past the survivors and into the tall, towering trees. "Sometimes, I catch glimpses of an inky black energy clinging to the leaves and weaving in and out of the forest. It's almost as if it's pumping them full of something," she paused. "That's what I saw earlier."
Alf frowned and followed her line of sight, wishing for the hundredth time he could use Ra'avah. "What do you think it is?" he asked.
"Part of me thinks it might just be the natural ebb and flow of life. I mean, normal Ra'avah can barely make out the hazy glow of everyday energy. This is on an entirely different spectrum, and I doubt very many people can see it, so it may have been impossible to document."
"But you don't believe that?"
"I don't know. It feels a bit too sinister to me to be normal."
Alf nodded and leaned back. Olivia was right; it didn't sound normal, and if there really was a weird energy in the forest, it may explain why there was mutated hogs on the warpath.
As Alf thought about Olivia's description, Harold left the survivors to the others and strolled towards them. "I trust the both of you are safe?"
"Yes, just a bit tired," Alf answered.
"Understandable," Harold said. He looked back towards Carlos's townspeople. "Drake filled me in on the details. It is hard to imagine these are the only ones who survived."
The images of dead bodies strewn across the road flooded into Alf's mind. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "It wasn't an enjoyable site."
Harold rubbed his mustache. "It appears Vackzilian is moving faster than we thought."
"Ya," Alf said. "Which reminds me. Would you teach the young girl with curly black hair how to properly form spells? She...achieved Patuah today."
"That bad?" the headmaster asked, his tone somber.
Alf sighed. "It's not something I will soon forget, and it was far worse for her. She watched as a man murdered her entire family."
Harold shifted uncomfortably, and Alf could see the pain in the older gentleman's eyes and the anger in his rigid posture. He hated injustice. "I see," he said. "I will take her some chamomile tea and have a small chat with her."
"Thank you. She needs someone to comfort her."
Not wishing to dwell on the situation any longer, Alf stretched and yawned. "Talking about tea, I'm going to take a power nap, and then we need to be on our way. This time I plan on running all the way to Glandledale. Will you send a resting potion to my room?"
"Of course," the headmaster replied. "However, we only have a few left, which brings me to another problem. We do not have enough food to sustain these people for long, nor the money to buy more, and as it turns out, the estate is not the only one in debt. Most of the townspeople pitched in or made adjustments to their stock in order to help the school. There is nary a penny to be had in the whole town."
Alf inhaled sharply, "I know, the crier told me as much this morning."
"And that's not the worst of it," the butler went on to add. "Mrs. Allender informed me that their rental store is on the verge of shutting down due to massive debt. Apparently, the armor you rented was destroyed beyond repair. The company they were loaning it out for are requiring them to cover the full cost of replacing it."
Alf rubbed his chest where the lightning bolt had struck him. "Oh," he said, "I hadn't thought about that."
"I may be able to help with both problems," Drake said as he materialized at the edge of the trees. "There are several large boars a few strides up the road. They haven't been dead for long, no more than three or four hours. Alf froze them to keep them from drawing the attention of more wild animals, so I'm sure rigor mortis has not set in yet. If my estimations are correct, you should be able to acquire enough meat to feed everyone for some time, and three sets of six-foot ivory tusks should cover Mr. Allender's debts."
Harold raised an eyebrow. "Run into trouble did you?"
"Nothing we couldn't handle," Olivia said. "Which reminds me, Alf would you retrieve the meat from earlier?"
"Sure," Alf tapped the medallion. The opening expanded, and he reached in and pulled out the frozen chunk of meat.
Olivia accepted it from him and handed it to the headmaster. "It seemed strange to me so I kept it to examine later, but I think you'd be better at it."
Harold placed his right hand on top and melted away the ice as he gazed at it in fascination. "Most curious indeed," he said.
"Is it edible?" Alf asked.
Harold turned the piece of meat over. "I believe so. Besides its enlarged size, its composition seems to be quite natural."
"Good, then you need to send out people as soon as possible," Drake stated.
Harold refroze the meat. "Certainly. I will get the butcher and some of the other townspeople on it right away."
"What do you think caused the creature's mutation?" Olivia asked.
Harold handed the frozen block back to Olivia and wiped his hands on a handkerchief. "I would have to examine the animal itself to be certain, but I believe a combination of spells were used to alter the creature's natural limitations. I have heard rumors of such practices during the Dragon's time; however, such things nowadays are taboo for various ethical and safety reasons. It appears I may have to have a talk with one of our students."
Olivia shoved the cube back into the medallion and raised her eyebrows, "You think one of the students did this?"
"Young and curious minds without constant supervision always get in some sort of trouble," the headmaster said with a peculiar smile on his face.
"Olivia saw a dark energy weaving in and out of the trees earlier," Alf said motioning towards the forest. "I think that may have something to do with it."
The butler's smile vanished. "Hmm, this may go beyond simple troublemaking."
"Speaking of troublemakers," Drake said, "has Viktor and his cohorts faked the attack on the replica town yet?"
"No, but they are making preparations as we speak."
"In that case, they should use the leftover parts of the boars for the staging of their attack; it will make it look more legitimate," Drake suggested.
Harold turned to watch as the last of the survivors made their way through the footpath and towards the town. "That is a fine idea, Sire. If you will pardon me, I will see to it immediately, and Alf, I will send up the potion shortly."
"Thank you," Alf said.
Harold bowed and disappeared into the woods
Alf stretched and yawned again. "All right, I'm going to take a nap. Drake, you should get that eye fixed up."
"I will."
Alf stood to his feet and reached down to help Olivia as he quietly said, "Will you make sure our best healers see to it?"
She nodded.
"Good," he said and started to stroll off in the direction Harold had departed from, but as he left, he realized Olivia would attempt to heal him herself, which would be really awkward for her. He turned back around. "Drake, don't let her do it herself, she'll need her energy for later today. And Livia, you should probably take a nap."
"Enough, Alf, I'm not a child," Olivia said rolling her eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You're the one who needs to replenish their energy. So get some sleep," Olivia scolded, waving her hand. "Go on, shoo."
Alf laughed, "Okay, okay, I'm going."