The Elder's Path by J.D. Caldwell Page A

more and the Druid steeled herself to reality.
    “I must, I must,” s he whispered to herself, gritting her teeth. Lyn spun around and proceeded to march determinedly towards the sound. No more creeping, no more slinking. This was going to end, one way or another.
    In the back of her mind she heard Nana’s voice, coming to her from a memory. “You cannot be slave to your fears,” she had said, “They will seek to influence you your whole life. If you deny they are there, you allow them control over you. Face them, acknowledge them, but do not become them.”
    With clenched fists, Lyn put her head down and pushed forth, coming in to a darkened chamber large enough to live in. There were no cracks or holes here, only pitch black. Were it not for her torch, she would have been blind. Though it didn't seem to m ake much difference; she saw nothing but blackness in the whole of the place. The chamber was the termination of the tunnel as far as she could tell, the sound had to be coming from somewhere within. The low sound came again, and this time Lyn felt its proximity. It was close. It was in the chamber with her.
    She cast about with her torch, seeking the source of the rumble. Frustrated, she stomped her foot. The vibration came again, this time much louder than before, and at the edge of her vision Lyn caught movement. She looked on, frozen in place, as a dark shape arose before her. Ice crystals fell from it and shattered on the floor, echoing into the tunnel beyond. A growl came from the massive shadow and Lyn found herself unable to even cower in response. Three glowing red eyes opened and turned to look at her. A great mouth formed beneath them, full of teeth as long as her fingers. As the shadow took a solid shape, she saw it was a giant wolf standing as tall as she.
    Despite her fear, Lyn’s instincts kicke d in and she stood her ground; she knew that running from a predator would only cause it to chase her, and she knew she had nowhere to go. The great maw opened and for a moment she was certain the beast was about to lunge forward and swallow her. But to her surprise, the wolf spoke, albeit in a language she was unfamiliar with. It was guttural and low, making it difficult to decipher. She listened close, but she could make out no words she knew. The great wolf waited, clearly expecting a response.
    “I, I do n’t understand...who are you?” The black beast did not move or respond, but simply looked at her.
    After a moment, the mouth opened again and said , “What age have I awoken to?”
    Lyn took a step back from the voice of the creature; his words carried with th em some strange power. When he spoke, she could feel it as much as hear it.
    “The 700 th age of Arc, in the Northern Province,” Lyn responded, unsure as to who or what this creature was. She found herself looking to his third eye, placed in between and slightly above the other two. She had never seen, nor heard, of something so strange. The fact that he was also gigantic, spoke, and was holed up in a cave for long enough to not know when or where he was also understandably contributed to her confusion. “My name is Lyn,” she continued, hoping to prompt more out of the creature and determine whether he was friend or foe. “I am a World-Walker, on my journey. Wha-... who are you?”
    The black wolf stood on all fours and shook himself, more ice crystals leaving his coat and cluttering to the floor. Sitting back on his haunches, he looked once more to her, and Lyn felt small under his gaze. “In your tongue I am called Marcho, the Voidwolf. I am unfamiliar with the place Arc. Where is this located in relation to Velheleon?”
    Gooseflesh rose on Lyn’s arm as Marcho spoke, but she found herself responding with a steady voice. “Velheleon, that is ancient history. 700 year old history, in fact. Arc was formed after the collapse of Velheleon, and we are in the 10 th month of the 700 th year.” Lyn’s brow furrowed in confusion. It was