The Stone Keeper's Quest- Elrich

Elrich’s head throbbed with pain as he woke up. He felt a nauseating vomit flavour lingering in his dry mouth. He tried to open one eye, but quickly closed it again. The bright sunlight stabbed his eye like needles. He staggered to his feet and the room spun around him. He grabbed a pine-wood chest of drawers for support.

Uncle Jeffrey looked at Elrich with a frown. He leaned forward and touched his forehead. “You seem unwell. Did you drink too much last night?” he asked.

Elrich nodded weakly. He rubbed his temples and groaned. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Uncle Jeffrey shook his head. He stood up and walked to the window. He opened the curtains and let the sunlight in. “What’s wrong with you young men these days? You can’t handle three beers without acting like drunks. When I was your age, we could drink nine beers and still ride our horses home,” he said.

Elrich grinned and said, “I’m not a drunk, I’m an alcohol enthusiast.” He winked at Uncle Jeffrey.

Uncle Jeffrey burst into laughter and nearly fell off his seat. He clapped his hands and wiped his eyes. He composed himself and said, “You should drink some water and eat some ginger. It will help with the hangover.”

Elrich nodded and poured himself a glass of water. He took a sip and grimaced. “How is Gabriella doing today?” he asked.

Uncle Jeffrey sighed and sat down on a wooden chair. He folded his arms and looked at the floor. “Her fever has gone down, but she’s still weak, “he said. He looked at Elrich with a serious expression and said, “Have you made up your mind?”

Elrich swallowed hard and said, “Yes, I have. You’re right. It’s best for her to go to the orphanage. They can take better care of her than we can.”

“Go pack her things,” Uncle Jeffrey told Elrich. He pointed to the door.

Elrich went into Gabriella’s bedroom. He saw her lying on the bed with a rag on her forehead. She smiled weakly when she saw him. “Hi Gaby, how are you today?” he asked.

“Much better,” she answered.

Elrich knelt by the bed and said, “Listen, Gaby, I have some news for you. Grandpa and I have decided to take you to the orphanage.”

Gabriella’s eyes filled with tears that spilled over her round cheeks. She clutched Elrich’s hand and sobbed. “Did I do something wrong, Uncle?” she sobbed.

Elrich felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He hated to see her so sad, but he had no choice. He had to give her up. He stroked her hair and tried to sound reassuring. “No, no, Gaby, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’ll be well taken care of at the orphanage, and you’ll have lots of friends there. Don’t you want that?” asked Elrich.

Gabriella nodded slowly, but she didn’t look convinced. She sniffled and said in a small voice, “Yes, I do.”

Elrich smiled sadly and hugged her tight. “I’ll come to see you every week, I promise,” he said.

Gabriella looked up at him with hopeful eyes. She held out her pinkie finger and said, “Pinky promise.” She wiped her tears with her small hand.

Elrich felt a lump in his throat. He knew he might not be able to keep his promise, but he couldn’t bear to disappoint her. He wrapped his pinkie around hers and said, “Pinky promise.”

Elrich kissed her forehead and said, “Come on, let’s get you ready.” He picked up his seven-year-old niece and put her clothes in a little leather bag with his other hand. Then he carried her and the bag out of the bedroom and over to Uncle Jeffrey.

Uncle Jeffrey was waiting for them in the living room. He looked solemn and sad. He smiled weakly when he saw them and said, “Hello, my darlings.”

“Say goodbye to Grandpa,” Elrich said, putting Gabriella down.

“Bye, Grandpa,” Gabriella said, running over to him and giving him a big hug.

“Bye, Gaby,” Uncle Jeffrey said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. He whispered in her ear, “You’re a brave girl. I love you very much.”

He handed Elrich a folded and sealed letter. “I almost forgot,” he said.

Elrich took the letter with curiosity. He recognized his mother’s handwriting on the envelope. He wondered what she had written to him. She died when he was thirteen. “What’s this?” Elrich asked.

“Your mother told me to give it to you when the time was right,” Uncle Jeffrey said.

Elrich clenched his fist around the letter and said through gritted teeth, “Thank you.”

Elrich was stunned and bewildered by the sight of crowds of people filling the streets on their way to the market. He pulled his horse to a halt and looked around. “Hey! What’s happening?” he asked.

A young boy ran past him, clutching a wooden sword. He glanced at Elrich and shouted, “They’re burning a witch at the market square!” He disappeared into the crowd.

Elrich felt a tug on his sleeve. “Uncle, can we watch?” Gabriella asked, staring at him with wide eyes.

Elrich shook his head firmly. “No! You don’t want to see that.” He pointed to a building. “There,” he said.

“What?” asked Gabriella.

“Your new home. Isn’t it lovely?” said Elrich, forcing a smile.

Gabriella bit her lip and nodded. “It is, Uncle,” she said in a low voice.

The orphanage was a towering double story building that stood out among the Kapok trees. Its walls were supported by flying buttresses and vaulted ceilings that distributed the weight of the upper floor. Rows of arched glass windows adorned both levels, giving it a grotesque appearance. The building was relatively new, thanks to a generous donor.

The compound was surrounded by a well-kept lawn and colourful flowers that sang in harmony. Hummingbirds and bees added to the soothing melody that lulled the senses. The playground was a work of art, with two yellow tree houses, a merry-go-round and a seesaw that invited fun and laughter.

Elrich gently lifted Gabriella from the horse and placed her on the ground. He led her to an old woman who was sitting behind a wooden desk.

She wore a black dress and a white apron. Her hair was grey and tied in a bun. She had kind eyes and a friendly smile. “Are you full?” Elrich asked.

“Of course not, dear. We always have room for a princess like her,” the old woman said, smiling warmly at Gabriella. She opened a drawer and took out a big red book.

She opened it and took out a quill pen. “What is your name, sweetie?” she asked Gabriella.

Gabriella looked at Elrich for reassurance. He nodded encouragingly. “Gabriella,” the girl said in a timid voice.

The old woman wrote down her name in the book. She looked at Elrich with curiosity. “What happened to her parents?” she asked.

Elrich sighed and lowered his eyes. “Her father fell in the winter war, her mother succumbed to the yellow plague a year later,” he said.

The nanny shook her head sadly. She looked at Gabriella with compassion. She reached out and touched her cheek gently. “You poor thing,” she said softly. She turned to Elrich again. “Does she have any allergies?” she asked.

“Not that I’m aware of,” said Elrich.

“Alright, give me her clothes,” said the nanny.

“You’re late,” Gregory said, tapping his foot impatiently.

“I’m sorry, I had a family matter to attend to,” Elrich said, bowing his head slightly.

Gregory nodded. He hesitated for a moment, then gestured for Elrich to follow him. “That was something I never did well.”

“What do you mean?” asked Elrich.

“I was married to the war; the soldiers were my children. I spent more time on the battlefield than in my home, until my wife had enough. One day, when I returned from the front, I found her gone. She took my two daughters with her,” Gregory said, his face and shoulders showing his hidden pain.

“That’s terrible. Did you try to find them?” said Elrich.

“She left a note saying not to look for her,” Gregory said, his eyes moistening with tears. He stopped and leaned against a wall. “I gave everything for this kingdom, and in the end, I lost my family. Do you know why selfish people are always happy?” Gregory asked.

“No,” said Elrich.

“They care only about themselves and not about anyone else. Learn from my mistake,” Gregory said, raising his maimed arm as a reminder.

Wiltshire had many villages, but Hilly Valley was unique. It nestled in a vast valley where hills crisscrossed like a maze. On each hilltop, a round stone house with a reed-thatched roof stood proudly. A stone staircase wound around the hill from the valley floor to the house door. The hills were covered with lush green plants like sweet flag, parrot’s feather and papyrus, giving them a beautiful green finish.

Pine tree canoes leaned against the stone walls of most houses. Four swift and winding rivers glittered like silver ribbons, weaving through the hills. Further up, the rivers converged and plunged into a bottomless pit, forming a thundering whirlpool that vanished into the void.

Gregory pointed at the village. “Hilly Valley,” he said. His voice was hoarse from the long journey.

Elrich gazed at the scenery. “It’s more beautiful than I imagined,” he said.

Gregory pulled the reins. “Be careful,” he said. The horses descended slowly down the valley wall. They reached the valley floor and sped up along one of the roads that followed the rivers. Gregory stopped and got off his horse. He tied it to a wooden post. Elrich followed him and dismounted.

“This is my place,” he said. He smiled faintly.

Gregory climbed the winding staircase, stopping at an old wooden door. He searched for his keys in a leather bag with his good left hand and pulled out a ring of jangling keys. He slid the key into the lock and turned it.

“Welcome,” said Gregory, opening the door. He stepped aside and let Elrich enter.

“Thank you,” said Elrich. He walked in and saw a cozy living room with a fireplace, a sofa, and a bookshelf.

Gregory gestured to a room. “That’s your room,” he said. He walked over and pushed the door open.

Elrich walked over and peeked inside. He noticed the girlish decorations and furnishings. “This was your daughters’ room, wasn’t it?” he asked. Gregory nodded. His eyes were sad.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me staying here?” Elrich said. He felt guilty for intruding.

“They don’t need it anymore,” Gregory said. He sighed and closed the door behind them. “We start training at dawn.”

Elrich took out the letter from his pocket and sat down on the bed. He broke the red seal and opened the letter. Dead cockroaches crumbled out of it. He brushed off the dust and saw that the letter was blank, except for three drops of fresh blood. He dropped the letter as the blood soaked into the paper and words began to form. With his hands quivering, he snatched the letter and skimmed it rapidly.

"If you are reading this letter, it means I’m dead. You always felt like an outsider growing up. I hated to see you suffer. I hid the truth from you to keep you safe. You must have many questions. You will find the answers in Lost City,” said the letter.

Elrich studied the map that appeared under the words. It traced a route to the Lost City. He felt a chill run down his spine.

Elrich felt a splash of cold water on his back, followed by a chill that ran through his body. He gasped and jerked away from the shock, but the hammock he was lying on spun him around and threw him to the ground.

Gregory laughed and ran towards the door. “You’ll have to do a thousand push-ups if I get out before you,” he taunted. “Remember, fighting is a skill that rests on four pillars: technical, tactical, mental and physical. If you neglect any of them, your whole system will collapse,” he added.

Elrich shivered. His face felt numb from the cold, and his arms were covered with goosebumps as the chilly wind whipped his skin. His muscles tensed and ached, and his teeth clacked together.

“Today we will learn the mental aspect of combat: focus,” Gregory said. He set a white candle on a rock in front of him and closed his eyes. The candle lit up with a flame. He opened his eyes and smiled at his student.

“How did you do that?” Elrich asked, his eyes shining.

“While witches rely on spells to start fires, we use the power of our minds,” Gregory explained. He gestured to the candle with his hand. “This is a simple demonstration of pyrokinesis.”

“I wish I could do that,” said Elrich. He reached out to touch the flame, but Gregory stopped him.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Gregory warned. “And you can do that, Elrich. You have the potential to be a great fighter.”

He looked at Elrich intently and instructed, “Close your eyes and concentrate on your desired outcome.”

Elrich squeezed his eyes tight. “Is it working?”

Gregory shook his head. “No,” he said.

Elrich frowned. “Still?” Elrich said, opening his eyes. He looked at the candle, hoping to see a flicker of fire.

“Focus, Elrich. Fighting is as much mental as it is physical. You need to master the art of concentration,” Gregory said, tapping his left temple twice with his index finger.

“How do I do that?” Elrich asked.

“Clear your mind of any emotional baggage. Grief, anger, resentment, guilt. Whatever is holding you back,” said Gregory. He placed his hand on Elrich’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I lost my best friend recently,” Elrich said. He looked away from Gregory, trying to hide his tears.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Elrich. But you can’t let it haunt you. Remember the good times you had with your friend, and let go of the sorrow,” Gregory said. He wiped a tear from Elrich’s cheek and smiled softly.

“Okay.” Elrich sniffed and nodded. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“Are you ready to try again?” Gregory asked. He moved back to his original position and pointed at the candle.

Elrich nodded. He closed his eyes and focused on the image of a flame in his mind. Gregory watched him closely, waiting for a sign of success. Suddenly, the candle burst into flames.

“Bravo! You are a quick study,” Gregory exclaimed. He clapped his hands and grinned.

“I did it,” Elrich breathed. He opened his eyes and saw the fire dancing on the wick.

“Good. Now that you have learned the power of focus, let’s move on to lesson number two,” Gregory said. He walked over to Elrich and stared into his eyes. “Do you know what courage is, Mr. Caulfield?”

Elrich shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Um, not feeling afraid?” Elrich guessed.

Gregory shook his head. “Courage is not the absence of fear,” said Gregory.

“It’s not?” Elrich asked, confused.

“No, fear is inevitable in life, but staying calm in the face of danger is courage,” Gregory said, and pushed Elrich into a pond of murky water.

Elrich gasped as he surfaced, spitting out water and dirt. “What are you doing?” he yelled.

Gregory ignored him and pointed to the other side of the pond. “Look over there,” he said.

Elrich followed his finger and felt a surge of terror. A huge crocodile was lying on the bank, its jaws open and its teeth gleaming. It noticed them and slid into the water.

“Are you crazy?” Elrich shouted, swimming frantically to the shore.

“Face your fear,” Gregory said, and shoved Elrich back into the water with a stick. “Calm down. Don’t resist the fear, accept it. It’s part of you, a survival instinct.”

Elrich took a deep breath and dived into the water, feeling the coldness engulf him. The crocodile lunged at him, and Elrich met it head-on. He wrapped his arms around its mouth before it could snap at him.

He also wrapped his legs around its body and locked his ankles. The two bodies wrestled and rolled in the water. Elrich poked the crocodile’s eyes repeatedly until it retreated in pain. Elrich let go of his grip, and the crocodile swam away. He surfaced and gasped for air.

“See? Fear can be conquered,” Gregory said, pulling Elrich out of the water. He slapped him on the back and smiled. “You did it, you faced your fear.”