The Adventure of Orinis

After three weeks, Orinis was completely immersed in working around the inn for the elderly couple who ran it. In exchange, as promised, he was given a room and food for his hard work. The old man even coached him through archery skills, teaching him everything from the basics to the more advanced bowman techniques. Orinis was a fast learner, and he soon discovered that archery was a skill anyone could learn if they put their minds to it.
One particularly stormy day, Orinis was in the kitchen peeling and cutting potatoes for that night’s stew when someone banged the inn’s door open hard enough to shake the foundations.

“Here now, what’s all the fuss? What did my door ever do to you, eh?” the old man, whose name was Elrik, asked, peering at the newcomer.

“I’m looking for someone,” the person replied. Orinis’s stomach did a flip. He recognized the voice, but couldn’t quite place it. He stood up, putting the potatoes, carrots and meat into the boiling broth, washed his hands and took off his apron.

“Elrik, I’ve finished peeling the potatoes. The stew is cooking; it should be ready soon,” he said, heading into the common room from the kitchen. “Is there anything else I can-“He stopped when he saw Mirikus standing in the common room.

“So you know this man, do you, Orinis?” Elrik asked gently. Orinis nodded, joy lifting his features.

“This is Mirikus, one of my companions!” he exclaimed. “Mirikus, where are Iro, Lewirand and Sapphire?” he asked excitedly. “Are they nearby?” Mirikus nodded. He had slumped as if in relief that Orinis was safe.

“Well now, why don’t you bring them here to dry off and have a warm meal and a place to sleep for the night?” Elrik suggested. “Any friend of Orinis is welcome here, no charge. I won’t take it. He’s been working his tail off for weeks, working here and looking for you lot.” Mirikus nodded again, sorrow lighting his face.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner, Orinis, my friend,” he said softly. “The clouds of war are building in the west. I believe this storm to be a part of it.” He shook his head. “But we can discuss that when we’re on the road. I’ll get the others, and we can rest here for a few days, if you are all right with it, sir,” he said, glancing at Elrik.

“Of course, of course! Didn’t I just say you all were welcome? Young people, they just don’t listen.” Still mumbling to himself, he shook his head and went into the kitchen. Orinis smiled after him.

“I have to go check on Greina, his wife. She’s been ill for days,” he said worriedly. He hurried up the stairs to Greina and Elrik’s bedroom to check on the old woman. Mirikus turned and was about to leave when Orinis cried out. He raced up the stairs, pushing Orinis out of the room when he sensed the powerful magic.

“Stay back, Orinis! Get Elrik out of the inn!” Mirikus cried, the words of a spell on his tongue. Orinis raced down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Elrik, we have to leave, now!” he cried, grabbing the elderly man’s arm.

“What’s going on, boy?” Elrik asked. “What about my Greina?” A look of horror and fear crossed his face.

“Mirikus will keep her safe. Please, we have to leave!” Orinis begged, tears filling his eyes. Setting his face in a mask of stone, Elrik nodded and followed Orinis out of the inn. They took shelter from the rain on a neighbor’s porch and waited.
Hours later, a very exhausted Mirikus appeared in an upper window, motioning that it was safe to reenter. They hurried inside, looking around the inn.

“Mirikus, are you all right?” Orinis asked.

“What about my Greina? Where is she?” Elrik asked frantically.

“We’re both fine, boys,” Greina said. Her voice was strong and sounded healthy. Elrik slumped against the wall, relief flooding through him. “Come on upstairs and we’ll explain everything.” Orinis had a sudden feeling of foreboding. He grabbed Elrik’s arm and stopped him.

“Why don’t you guys come downstairs and we’ll talk over a warm mug of tea?” he suggested. There was a slight pause, and then the sound of movement from upstairs. Mirikus descended first, his eyes piercing Orinis’s. ‘Get out,’ he mouthed. Orinis grabbed Elrik’s arm and pulled him along after him.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Elrik demanded. Greina raced down the stairs, a horrible darkness surrounding her. She cried out a word, and a shadowy wall appeared before the door, trapping them inside. The shield crept around at another word from Greina to surround the building.

“No one gets in, no one gets out,” she said pleasantly. “I told you not to warn them, dear Mirikus.” Her voice took on a dark tone, and a beam of energy shot from her left hand. Mirikus doubled over with a cry, clutching at his chest as thought something pained him greatly. Orinis started forward, but it was Elrik who held him back.

“Stay back, lad,” he said calmly, staring at his wife. She was grinning darkly, and her husband smiled a little, a smile that instantly fell away and never reached his eyes.

“Orinis, you are important to our master, the Lord of Darkness,” Greina said. “Mirikus, on the other hand, is expendable. Depending on your behavior, we may allow him to live.” She smiled wickedly as she saw the indecision in his gaze. His past life was screaming for him to die, while his current self knew it was wrong. One look into the mage’s eyes sealed the decision.

“What do I do to save him?” he asked, his voice quivering. He saw the fear and pain and desperation in the man’s gaze. The wizard shook his head slightly, silently warning Orinis not to give into their demands. Greina smiled, releasing Mirikus from her spell. He gasped in air, holding his chest still as he stumbled and fell to the ground.

“Come with us, dear Orinis, to meet our master,” she said, holding out a hand to him. He reached toward her slowly, hesitantly.

“Orinis, no, don’t do it!” Mirikus cried out, staggering to his feet. “If you fall into his hands, we are all lost! I warn you, don’t do it!” Orinis turned toward him, sorrow and pain in his gaze.

“It’s the only way to save you,” he said softly.

“Then I don’t want to be saved, damn it! Don’t go with them! I don’t care what they do to me; don’t let him take control of you! Don’t let him use you like he used Lorik!” He froze, knowing he had said too much. Greina and Elrik stared at him, horror and fear in their eyes at the mention of the name.

“Lorik? Who is Lorik?” Orinis asked, clearly confused.

“Your past self, Orinis,” Elrik said softly. “He, too, was favored by the Lord of Darkness. He served under the master for many years, but then he grew a will of his own. He tried to fight the master, but he lost. He was brought completely under the master’s control, but he was killed in a battle against Mirikus to see who had the stronger magical potential. He overdid a spell and ended up dying in Mirkus’s arms. He blamed Mirikus for his death.” He let the words sink into Orinis’s mind. Orinis stared at Mirikus.

“Even now, Lorik is crying for me to kill you where you stand,” he whispered. “I feel his rage and his pain. The way he sees it, you betrayed him and killed him out of spite. He… he wants me to help him kill you.” He closed his eyes, fighting back tears. “But killing you would place me right into the Lord of Darkness’s hands, wouldn’t it?” He looked to Elrik, who nodded mutely. “I can’t do it. I won’t do it. Mirikus, you’re innocent. You didn’t do anything on purpose. I believe that. I trust you,” he whispered. Greina screamed in pain, doubling over. The darkness left her body. Elrik stumbled, grabbing hold of a table. Shadows came together. A piercing pain filled Orinis’s chest. He cried out, and Mirikus grabbed hold of him to steady him.

“Stay calm,” he whispered in the centaur’s ear. “Stay calm.” He repeated the words until the pain faded, and Orinis slumped against him. The shadows came together, coalescing into the form of a tall man. “Say it again, Orinis!” Mirikus urged.

“I trust you, Mirikus!” Orinis shouted. The shadow form screamed, becoming a solid being. Orimis snatched up his bow, knocked an arrow and fired straight at the figure. The being screamed in pain as Orinis fired arrow after arrow at it. The being began to fade, leaving to treat its wounds, but it would return with a vengeance.