Chapter 10
Ryson and Holli trekked without hesitation through the Lacobian desert. Holli, accustomed to the thick brush of Dark Spruce Forest, cared little for the sand or the heat. She would have welcomed the shady refuge of tall leafy trees, but only thin cacti appeared along their travels. She longed for flowing streams or small quiet ponds, but the desert offered only an empty ocean of sand. The sun poured down upon her and the hot dry wind from the south bit at her skin. Her arms and legs were accustomed to climbing and leaping, not struggling through these Lacobian dunes.
Holli ignored these pains. She concentrated upon the delver's back and upon the surrounding land. As the sun and sand burned her eyes, she continued to scan the horizon as well as the very ground they tread upon. As she watched the delver move so effortlessly across this barren terrain, she remained always within arm’s reach, always ready to defend him. She bit back any stray thought which begged her to give in to the desert or to even request a moment's rest.
She called upon her training to keep her from tiring and to keep her moving forward in these conditions so hostile to her race. Whenever she felt her strength diminish, she placed her hand upon the hilt of the Sword of Decree. Its presence at her side reminded her of the faith Mappel had placed in her. She affirmed to herself that she would not delay the search for the algors. She would not slow the delver or force him to rest when he did not need it. She would continue far after all her strength evaporated into the dry desert heat if need be. Her own will and determination would carry her to the end of this quest.
So true was Holli's spirit, that Ryson did not even recognize her struggle. He stopped only when absolutely necessary. When he did, their pauses were brief. He also began to use the desert more and more to his advantage. He declared they would save all of their supplies and use only that which he could take from the land. He used his knife to coax liquids from hidden roots and from the innards of the surrounding cacti. After short breaks to complete such tasks, they were again on their way.
As Ryson moved through the desert, he opened his senses. He fought from focusing upon one item. Instead, he exposed his senses to everything around him. His mind turned back to the advice of Mappel.
Mappel had tried to explain how the algors lived based on his knowledge of elflore. They did not live in small camps like the elves, in towns like the humans, or in underground cities like the dwarves. They lived together, yet apart. Thousands upon thousands lived within the desert and considered themselves part of the greater community, but that community spread itself thinly over the vast desert. They dug dens in high sand dunes, they made homes in hollow cacti, they even found shelter in caves among the desert cliffs. They preferred a life equally split between solitude and group activity. As quickly as they would wander off into desolation, they would return to find kinship with other members of their community.
While each held a sense of strong loyalty to another, they fashioned their lifestyles upon individualism. It was a difficult prospect for outsiders to accept, for the algors appeared born with a natural sense of conformity; their desire to shed this inherent attribute led them to near split personalities.
As for their other habits, Mappel had described the algors as using every element of the desert to their advantage. They would feed from a cactus at the top of the stalk so as not to harm the roots or trunk. They would mold the very sand around them to construct dunes that would protect them from the sun and the hot dry winds. It was these things which Ryson focused upon as he traveled through the desert.
The delver constantly surveyed the land looking for such signs. He examined every cactus hoping to find claw marks indicating a recent climb to the top. He watched the breeze break across the desert trying to see signs of an unnatural barrier. He also lifted his nose to the air hoping to catch a unique scent which might indicate the presence of a creature he had never before met. He listened to the wind. Perhaps he would hear the slight vibration of a distant call. He held himself out for anything, anything at all. He would grasp upon the slightest clue to lead them.
For the moment, he found nothing. He followed only his instincts. He trotted forward making turns based on nothing more than a whim. His direction held no true logic; he simply plodded forward like a hungry beggar looking for a morsel of bread in a land devoid of food. Yet, he held to the belief that at any moment he would hone in upon the smell, the sound, or the sight of something that would lead him to his ultimate destination.
The day trudged on. The wind quickened and the sun baked the sand as it began to sink from its position directly overhead. If night would bring them cooler times, they would pay for it first with the billowing heat of the latter half of day.
Still, they moved forward blindly, aimlessly across the wasteland. Even the scorpions and desert birds took refuge from the baking sun. The two appeared alone, searching for something they could not identify. Only their footsteps in the sand and on rock accompanied them now, and these trailed off behind them far out of sight, like a long wandering tail. It reminded Holli of the loneliness of their journey each time she turned to check their flanks.
When the elf did turn, she could not avoid the scope of their travel. Nothing in the distance behind them offered any sense of security. Any trace of the forest had long since vanished. The desolation of what surrounded them was overpowering. Hopelessness, loneliness, desperation; these were the emotions which attacked her mind. She spit these crushing thoughts from her like a bad aftertaste. There were more important things for her to focus on now.
As the sun lowered, the heat became thicker, stronger. It pressed upon her like some unseen hand trying to force her to her knees. Maintaining the pace the delver set became more and more difficult. Purely and simply, the elf was asking her body to maintain a cross country run through the desert. While her physical condition allowed for great stress, there remained limits. She was now exceeding those limits, and she faced yet one more battle to fight, the struggle of mind over body. She would have to convince her own tiring, aching muscles that they could indeed continue.
It became a personal war with the desert itself. She turned the wasteland into a powerful foe that mocked her. As she continued to scan the horizon, she looked over the dunes with growing animosity. The sand, the sun, and the wind were now all enemies that wished to stop her. It was up to her own perseverance to win this battle, and she remained determined against any failing. She began to care almost singularly about this one point. The desert would not defeat her.
Ryson did not face the same difficulties. His body apparently adapted to all environments. Like the chameleon, his very body chemistry altered to match his surroundings. The heat barely affected him. Running across this empty land offered no true challenge to his skills. The true challenge rested in the search itself, in finding the algors, a search he continued without frustration. Even as he moved without true direction, he maintained a vigorously determined outlook upon his intentions. The day was passing without a single hint of the mythical algors, yet he remained open-minded to their existence. More, he now accepted their existence as fact. The question to him was no longer if they were actually in the desert. It was more if he could find them. With such a challenge, his delver blood flowed true, and he began to move with methodical precision.
More and more, he pulled the spyscope from the pouch at his belt. He scanned far across the desert, inspecting the terrain with more and more concentration. Perhaps, it was the purifying power of the desert which began to clear his mind of his own unconscious barriers, the long travel over rock and sand with a dry wind cleansing him of self-doubts. It brought an edge to his senses and brought out the most receptive instincts inherent to a purebred delver. He began to sense things about the desert that he did not even notice when their journey began. Each time he brought the scope to an eye, he nodded in approval. He even began to smile with great satisfaction.
As this behavior increased, Holli wondered if the desert was taking the
mind of the delver. She knew of how such conditions could drive anyone to madness. She worried if the madness now controlled her companion. She finally decided to break her silence even if it meant momentarily delaying their search.
"Delver," she called to him over his shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Ryson twirled about with great energy. He smiled happily. "I'm fine, Holli." He said nothing more. He watched her expectantly, obviously hoping she would continue to question him.
"What is it?" Her tone indicated she was tired and expected an immediate explanation.
"They are here," he said plainly, but with an even bigger smile.
"You are sure?" The elf took her attention from the delver. Her body became tense and ready. Her hand fell to the hilt of the sword as she scanned all directions. The wear of the desert upon her body almost completely disappeared as she considered facing possible danger.
"You can't see them," Ryson offered. "I haven't seen them yet, but they have been here. I'm on to them now. Actually, it's not so much as following a single algor. It's more of finding signs of many of them. They do congregate, but they spread themselves thin just the same. There are so many different and opposing signs to look for. It's possible we've passed right by many of them for a long time. I didn't know what to look for when we started, but I do now. I see how they've forced changes on the desert that the wind couldn't have made. I see how they've made markings which appear totally natural, but offer landmarks for their own kind. Even now we're closing in upon an area which is well traveled by many of them. There's no question about it. They exist, and they're here."
Holli spoke with relief, as if believing the long journey was finally coming to an end, her own personal victory over the desert assured. "I take your word for it. What do we do now?"
"We find them." His smile did not vanish. It remained on his face as he pointed to a ridge of a sandstone mountain off to the west. "That is where we have to go."