Gauntlet

San and the others left their camp in the morning, walking close to the witch who kept her conjured flame floating as they walked. Alizar told them of a wizard who might be able to help remove the artifact, she said he stayed at a fairly close village that they could visit to restock their food and other supplies as well.

Despite the village being fairly close, about a four-hour walk … it was bitterly frigid as waves of goosebumps often flowed over San’s exposed skin—or what little of it was left.

“It should be just on the other side of this clearing,” Alizar promised hopefully as Matilda pulled back a snow-covered pine branch, revealing nothing but an icy wind whipping around rubble and destroyed homes.

Tyson poked his head up over Matilda’s shoulder so he could see why everyone else was so upset “well this looks familiar,” he groaned, looking out at what very well could have been a memory from his past.

“What do you mean?” San asked, thinking that this also reminded her of her own home.

“When I served in Hortons military, our king had often sent us out, scouring small villages like this in Hope’s to find something.”

“An artifact,” San started, as she pushed through the group to sift through what was left in rubble, seeing if anything worth taking had survived the attack. Fed up with the destruction, Alizar instructed San and the others to keep their eye’s shut, and tilt their head down to the ground.

Listening out of fear for what might happen if she didn’t, San’s vision closed to the cold blackness of her mind, as she could only hear the whistling wind and feel her nose grow ever colder, close to freeing itself from her face. But out of nowhere, the ramped wind fell deaf to snapping and popping flames.

Her nostrils flared with joy as an overpowering warmth indirectly found her, breathing in the smells of the dormant vegetation coming to her as if to skip the rest of winter and most of the spring. But the temperature continued to soar to the point where San thought she was in an oven, but not a convection oven for the once whipping wind had long ceased. The heat was overwhelming San to the point where she removed her cloak, only to have the popping and hissing warmth fade, as Alizar gave the okay to open their eyes.

The snow had vanished, small puddles pooled in its place around the crumbled cobble. Looking to the edge of the village, a mound of snow still remained in a circle around where they stood, it was clear to San what this was as she had seen this magic before.

“It’s only temporary, but it will keep us warm,” Alizar said nonchalantly, as Marko wiped his runny nose with his sleeve, stomping through the newly formed puddles, looking for something, anything to eat.The last half hour of their journey, Marko complained he was too hungry to shiver so he was unsure if he would die of starvation or frostbite first.

“Check this out, guys,” Marko said to the group of mostly women, as he stood over the body of a fallen knight.

“Do you think he was protecting the village here?”

“Most likely he was one of the attackers,” Alizar said, pointing to the king’s seal etched on his armor.

“Yeah that looks familiar,” San said remembering the insignia of the lion, from the bandits who originally wielded the gauntlet.

“But why would one of the king’s knights do something to loyal taxpayers?” Marko asked.

“Probably the same reason Tyson’s king did,” Alizar said, pointing to San’s exposed gauntlet. “Power.”

“They would really invest time and money into their own militaries just to kill thousands of their own people?”

“If it means they would never die,” Alizar said, grabbing an exposed piece of scrap wood and breaking it over San’s armor, as she barely noticed the impact, only the cracking of the wood turning her head.

“And to be fair, these knights that do the King’s bidding are no more than hired guns, freelancers going after the prize of retrieving an artifact such as this, they’re not paid till they get something worth buying. But the exciting draw one freelancer might have to such an enormous paycheck is that there isn’t just one artifact. If you think this gauntlet was created by sealing an evil soul in armor, do you think over the centuries of our violent world there could be only one evil soul? only one mage who wanted to stir the pot by creating such cursed objects? every artifact is an exchange of power, this much must be understood.

“For example, I’m sure if San didn’t train as hard as she does, she would barely be able to move, and at the rate the armor is devouring her, soon she will never feel the warmth of the summer sun or the passionate touch of another, and forget about self-control, as I’m sure she’s warned you all.”

“Oh, we’ve seen it,” Marko piped up to embarrass San.

“About, by the end of the month, I dare say she would be an uncontrollable threat to us and everyone around her.”

“That’s why I was really hoping that Wizard would be here…” San muttered, fearing the day she would fully lose control on her new found friends.

“But let’s not lose our heads,” Tyson piped up encouragingly, “Why not try and tackle two birds with one stone? we know for sure we need a well-trained wizard who knows about artifacts, what are the odds one resides in the Capital with our prince?”

“Fairly high,” Alizar stated.

“And frankly, any prince who thinks killing his own people for power is a smart strategic move probably should be stopped from making such moves.”

“So, take the fight to him?” San asked, trying to grasp his plan.

“I don’t think we have too many other options,” Tyson said, resting his arms on Matilda’s back as he sat in a patch of freshly exposed grass, the Capital’s towers looming in the distance.

“Just to be clear, my magic is powerful, but I don’t know if the four of us are ready to storm the most heavily protected fortress in this country,” Alizar warned with a worried look in her eyes.

“So, we’ll be stealthy, avoid as much fighting as we can, get to the wizard and then quickly let one of my knives find the Prince’s throat, then we’re home free,” San said, demonstrating she could still hit a tree from sixty paces left handed, as she picked up a rusted shard of metal from the fallen knight, sinking it deep into a pine, knowing it would be even easier with the gauntlet not sitting on her wrist.

“It looks to be about a day and a half’s walk,” Tyson guessed, interrupted by a loud thudding splash catching the group’s attention as they looked to see Marko pushing rubble from a mound refusing to sit still and listen to the plan. He unearthed a large set of wooden cellar doors, creaking as they were opened for the first time in months.

“JACKPOT!” he cried, running back up the concrete steps with handfuls of preserves all in labeled Jars.

“Eat today, rebel tomorrow,” he stated, unscrewing one of the jars of jam and scooped some out with his filthy fingers, leaving the rest of the group disgusted but thankful—if he could eat it and not be sick, the food was probably fine.

Still protected in their winter-proof dome, Tyson struggled to find somewhere dry to make a fire and build their camp for the night. Alizar’s magic came through for them once more, asking everyone to move very far away, taking her ball of following flame, and gripping a hollow fist around her mouth, she blew into the orb, causing a massive display of dragon’s breath, scorching the earth and causing all the remaining puddles to turn into steaming pot holes, aan the group all gingerly sat around her floating flame once more.

The sun had set and tomorrow would be a long day.

♮

Even though San’s body slept on the scorched earth, she found it hard to believe, wiping the sleep from her eyes, that she had indeed slept outside as the lack of wind was eerie and unpleasant, almost artificial, like sleeping safe in a home, but even a wooden structure breaths. Regardless of how she missed the wind, it was still better than the cold.

Standing and stretching, it soon became very apparent that they were one woman down, as the spot that once occupied Alizar was empty. Attempting to remain calm and not assume the worst, San scanned the rest of the destroyed village, hoping she would spot her taking a final check for anything they could use.

But not even a blade of grass could be bothered to move in the motionless magic her barrier provided. Walking over and tapping Marko with her foot to wake him from his drooling slumber, San asked, “Have you seen Alizar?”

“What, in my dreams? Are you kidding, come on, you knew I was asleep,” the young man groaned with his eyes still closed as he rolled away from her. Waking Tyson and Matilda yielded the same result. She was gone.

“Oh, well, that’s great, leaving just when we needed her,” Marko pouted, “because I know we’re strong, San and me could probably take on most of the Capital,” Tyson cleared his throat to remind the boy he was at the bottom of their totem pole, “but come on, we don’t even stand a chance without her powers, you all saw what she could do—her magic is insane.”

And for once, everyone agreed with Marko.

“But fire power doesn’t really matter, because we were going to try and be stealthy right?” San said, trying to lift everyone’s spirits, knowing she would still go regardless.

“You have a point,” Tyson added, “But I do wonder where she went, you think she was scared?”

“Why else would she run?” Marko chirped, clearly more upset than the others she was gone.

“You can’t blame her, just like I can’t blame any of you if you’re having second thoughts” San said as she tidied what she needed from the camp.

“Come on, don’t be so noble, if we don’t crush this maniacal monarch now, no one will,” Tysan said as Matilda picked him up to ride on her back as a sign she was in agreement.

The three of them looked down at Marko struggling to tie his boot, “It’s not like I can help out on the farm during winter anyway,” he said, standing as he grabbed a heavy bag from San’s arms and led the band of misfit friends as they walked through the remaining marsh, hesitantly breaking thru Alizar’s weatherproof barrier. Back into the cold.