Fables Vol.3

As the thick black liquid dripped slowly through the hood of longevity it seperated inside the silver bowl. Instead of the inky black potion that proved so consistant in my prior attempts, there in the bowl two distinct liquids pooled. Oddly these seperated solutions seemed incompatible, almost pushing away from each other inside the bowl. When fully strained it appeared the bowl contained a large raw egg, yellow instead of clear, with a blood red yolk.

Unsure which of the two would hold the magical properties of the hood, I sterilized four more vials. When I finished I held six vials, three sterilized with blood, three with holy water. I turned back to the ravens confident that one of these six vials held the potion I had worked so hard to obtain.

From a room in one of the local inns I heard a man cry out, it seemed he had misplaced his key and was locked inside. With a healthy yell about disliking rooms like that one, he vanished from the elven city. I considered his problem trivial, and quickly turned back to the ravens. Something about the mans exclamation gave me reason to doubt my latest attempt, yet I could not decipher the doubt in my mind. Considering it coincedence I almost killed another raven before I stopped and poured out the vials.

I could see it now, how I had not seen it before was beyond my comprehension. None of these rituals had the slightest chance to work for I had overlooked the most basic of variables. I needed to perform my ritual in a sacred location, furthermore a specific time of day may be required. I spoke with all three handmaidens in hope that they might direct me where a ritual like this might be performed.

After a brief discussion about my ritual, and a long tongue lashing warning me to avoid such foolishness, one of them finally offered that I should not do it under the sky. She claimed the gods should not be forced to watch such a ritual. Little did she know that in her attempt to belittle my ideas she had actually confirmed exactly where I needed to go. I paused only briefly in the grove to gather the essentials for my journey.

Knowing that seeking more advice from the elves would likely end badly I chose to pursue the inquery of time amongst others. I planned to sneak out of the elven kingdom through the secret passage that would lead past the ancient ruins of my forbearers. I entered the tunnels from the inn, I paused only to draw my sword and arm by crossbow. I chose to resist my instinct to call the gorgon, knowing that I would need the ravens for my experiments.

As quiet and gentle as the wind itself, I traveled through the orc encampments upon the mountains. I reached the crossroads in the Dragon's Teeth just before dawn, again the feeling nagged at my mind. I knew instantly the emotion, fear, moreover I knew the source. Centuries of being the hunter leaves one with a unique empathy for his prey, likewise he knows when others hunt him. The feeling compelled me to change my direction and head south through the ford merely to avoid the major cities.

I set camp near a water sprite, my legs were tired and the ravens could not support my weight. I awoke in the afternoon, though I chose to wait until dusk before heading west. As the pinkish hue of the setting sun reflected marvelously off of the pillowy clouds, I headed into the dark to visit the traitor. Just within the tunnel entrance I stood perfectly still waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Suddenly I felt a sharp pain at the base of my skull...

(more to follow in Vol.4)