Chapter 5

14 4 0
                                    


Fresh powdered snow fell from the burdened branches of countless fir trees as Aramus landed between them. The forest was thick, and the tree branches bounced gratefully upon their release. The silence of the uninhabited mountaintop was only broken by the sound of Aramus breathing heavily, and Olórin groaning as he made to stand from the young man's arms. Having been nearly exclusively carried across the many peaks of the eastern Saraethian Mountains, Olórin had all but forgotten how old his bones truly felt. The sensation of being warm was also a distant memory.

"Do you... want to tell me exactly... what we are looking for," Aramus panted.

Although Aramus was a strong man, Olórin could see that the weak mountain atmosphere was taking a toll upon him. There was only so high his powerful wings could fly without losing their purpose to the lack of air, and it seemed that Aramus had reached his limit.

"You know why we are here, Aramus."

"Yes... I know you think you can cure me with some stupid potion of yours, but what exactly are we looking for?" he asked, resting his hands on his knees.

"You will know it when you see it," Olórin replied, making to climb further upwards.

Aramus grabbed hold of Olórin's arm and spun him around to look into his eyes.

"For the Goddess's sake, old man, why must you be so cryptic? We have been travelling these accursed mountains for two straight days now... without so much as a decent night's sleep. Do you even know... where you're going?" he demanded.

Aramus appeared to be unable to regain his strength in the high altitude, his normally tanned face was blanched with the cold. Olórin found it somewhat disconcerting that he now appeared to be the stronger of the two, and had finally found a weakness in the young man. 'Perhaps the closer to the heavens we soar, the further away he gets from his father and the weaker he becomes?' But Olórin also knew that it didn't do to dwell on such matters. He could never use this information to harm Aramus in any event.

"We are heading to the highest peak of Naretia, to the point where the heavens meet mortal soil. In case you haven't noticed, it's not an easy place to find, and not many have travelled there. So, while I do not exactly have a map to follow, I do know that it lies within these mountains... somewhere."

Aramus released Olórin's arm and squinted his eyes upward, trying to see the end of their journey through the hazy air. It was the first time in this young man's life that Olórin had seen a hint of worry in his expression.

"We'll soon be above the highest clouds at this rate, but the peak is still a day's climb. I am guessing that we will only be met with the same barren rocks as we saw on the other mountaintops behind us. What makes you think that this place even exists?" he asked.

"I've heard of it from many legends," Olórin replied, digging his staff into the deep snow again and following it with determined steps. Aramus was silent for a long time.

"Are you mad?" he finally shouted. "Only a fool believes the made up tales of drunkards and cowards that try to cover up their failures with elaborate tales." Aramus paused to catch his breath again. "You have dragged us to near the point of oblivion on the well-researched and trustworthy words of a legend? Old man... I knew you were eccentric, but I had no idea you were senile too."

Olórin didn't bother to look at Aramus. He didn't have to. He knew that the young man's face would hold an expression of shock and anger, or at least it should have.

"The minds of mortals are limited to what we can see and hear," he said, trudging onwards. "It is true that we are great story tellers. But in the field of originality, I'm sorry to admit, we are somewhat lacking. Most stories are often retells of other, older stories, twisted and turned to hide its true origins. But when a legend appears that is entirely different, so fantastical that it could not have been dreamt up by some dreamer in a dingy scroll-laden cell, I have always come to suspect that there might be some truth to them."

The Paladins of NaretiaWhere stories live. Discover now