The walk to the battle site was anything but comfortable. Vander was mostly quiet on the entire walk over and Dan really didn’t know what to say to the old teacher. The woods were clear of any big dangers, but Vander ducked his head once and awhile at any sounds that resembled flapping wings or snapping beaks. Dan, on the other hand, kept scanning their surroundings. The thick canopy created a darkness that edged the path like two black walls to a hallway. They were walking for about ten minutes when they heard something out at the other end of the path.

After a few more yards, Dan was excited at the sound of rushing water and ran down the dirt path, speeding past Vander.

“Wait! Don’t go too fast!”

A few pebbles scattered down and out of sight from under Dan’s scampering feet. He retreated and stopped then craned his neck over a wide cliffside. Roaring falls pooled into a small pond about thirty feet below him. “So I’m assuming these are the Old Glare Falls.”

“Yep. Sorry … I forgot about the cliff until you started running toward it.”

Dan shook it off. No need keeping grudges. He found a path to his right that went down along the falls. As he descended, he spotted a few abandoned cottages on the far shore of the pond, uprooted with greenery. Three vine covered tables and a fence came into sight within what Dan thought to have been a mini courtyard that connected the homes. Once he reached the bottom of the path he turned toward the falls and stared in awe. Hidden from behind the cliff wall that Dan descended, was an eight-foot-tall stone statue of a fox standing on a boulder with a ball of flame in one hand and what Dan thought looked like daggers in the other. Underneath was a three-foot-tall base with a paragraph of inscribed words on its face. Dan was careful as he approached it. The only way to the statue was traversing over a stone path that had parts totally submerged in water that had eroded over time. Dan easily traversed across the stone path, with his athletic grace and read the inscription.

Fierston

God of Fire and Steel

Son of Agrathor and Thera, Champion of the Nine Trials, and bringer of the flame.

After his many adventures Fierston wedded his sister Thalisia and they lived in the forest protecting over those who needed warmth in the cold and light in the dark.

“So you got to read the inscription,” Vander said as he appeared at the shore of the pond.

Dan nodded as he quietly processed the museum like description. Fire and Steel. So that’s the guy the warlock talked about, but what else do I need to know about him?

Vander carefully traversed the stone path over to the statue with his wobbly legs and admired it for a moment before returning his gaze to the inscription. “Surprising that not much of the statue has worn down.” He gazed at the falls. “You would think that the water would have eroded this statue by now to a mere rock.”

Dan was too busy contemplating the writing to notice Vander’s remark. “I don’t understand. Fire and Steel. Was he like a blacksmith?”

Vander scratched his chin. “You know many smithies back when I was a kid considered Fierston to be like … their patron god.”

“I think the fire part is cool,” Dan admired, “but the daggers, why have them at all?”
Vander pondered it for a moment. “Maybe the daggers were his geschenten.”

“Geschenten?”
Vander nodded. “Yes the items that gave the Elden their power.”

“The Elden were like that old group that ruled the world, right?” Dan recollected.

Vander teetered his head back and forth. “Kind of. They were a multinational organization tasked with keeping peace throughout the world. Each nation was represented and for a while it was strong … that is until the Clash War.”

“So … FIerston was an Elden and the daggers were his source of power?”
Vander smiled. “You catch on quick. I guess that’s why you’re the captain.”

Dan smiled. “But the note talked about the fury or power of Fierston. So Fierston started the fire that ended the Clash War?”

Vander shook his head. “I don’t think it was Fierston personally. He would be well over a thousand years old right now if that were true … No, I think it means something else.” Vander was uncomfortably quiet afterwards. “The note can be referring to an Elden. My father was fascinated with them. He even befriended a few and I got to meet them. Most were kind travelers that passed through, but some were greedy and terrible to my father.”

“Well which ones can use fire?”

Vander sighed. “Well any Elden can use fire spells. That’s what makes it difficult to narrow it down, but I have a registry of those that have stayed at the cottage. We can look there.”

Dan huffed with frustration.

Vander could tell this wasn’t the news Dan was hoping to find. “I know this doesn’t seem to have been a great help, but we can check a battle site off our list.”

Dan nodded and returned his gaze one last time to the statue. He admired the stonework that must have taken months or even a year to complete and the amazing detail. The ruffles in the fur, the wrinkles in the tunic and the blood on the boulder. He shook his head like from a bad dream. On its face was a smear of blood that stretched over to its right side. Dan walked around the statue, following the blood trail that angled downward toward the back of the base. The sunlight was blocked by the cliff side and left the area encased in shadow. Dan knelt and inched toward to the base. As he drew closer, Dan began to notice letters etched in blood.

HELP

S.S.W.

R.E.L.

Ton-

Dan didn’t know what to make of it, but one thing stood out clear. His father’s initials. “Dad?” He went over the message over and over in his head.

“S-S-W. Are those initials?” Vander noticed with squinting his eyes.

“No.” He reached out his father’s compass. “It’s a cardinal direction.” He pointed the compass so that it was linked with the letters SSW. “It means south southwest.”

“What about R.E.L.?”
“My dad.”
Vander look on in shock. “So, you think your father left that message?”

Dan shook his head and smiled. “I know he did. That’s how he signs off on all his surveying jobs.” He got up and walked away from the statue. His heart was pounding as the smeared letters of blood danced across his mind. It was almost hard to breath as he rested a hand on the fence that guarded the two cottages.

“What does Ton mean then?” Vander shouted over the falls.
Dan’s breathing slowed down as his mini panic attack ended as quickly as it had started. He was too busy recovering to hear Vander and stared out at the cottages. It all was too surreal. He focused on the vines and shrubbery that have long consumed the exterior of the little forest homes. Distant voices, shouting and screaming at each other, echoed within his mind.

“You’ll understand when you get older.”
“Older? I understand now. I don’t want to be a stupid real estate agent like you and work under Mr. Rotmyre. I’m going to be a real man and become something else.”
“Dan, stop!”

“I never wanted to be a Longreed. I’m sick of this family. I wish I was never part of it. I wish I was a Snag.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I wish I was never a part of this stupid family. You are all greedy and selfish. That’s the Longreed way, isn’t it? …. but not my way. Never.”

“Get back here.”

Dan was tightly grasping his father’s compass. A tear dripped down on its glass face as Dan quickly closed it and wiped his face with a sleeve.

Vander looked back at the message and saw a line of blood that smeared off from the word Ton to the ground. He reached out and touched it. It was mostly dry but a bit viscous. “This can’t be more than a day old.” He got up, searched the area and returned to Dan. “Hey, you said your father usually signed off like that for his job. What would he put after his initials?”

Dan was too busy looking in the direction of where the compass was pointing toward SSW, a dark patch of forest similar to the one right outside Mark’s house. Probably another Flaretom den. Great. He took a deep breath as the needle twitched with the magnetic pull. I’m coming, Dad.

“So, what does he put after his initials?”

Dan awoke. “The company he works for. Usually it’s AIDA, Mr. Rotmyre’s company.”

“What do you think it can mean? Their next destination?”

Dan shook his head. “Possibly. It can also be the name of the warlock.”

Vander looked up at the sky and noticed the sun was nearing the western canopy and the accumulation of a few clouds. “We probably have an hour or two of good sunlight left. We need to be quick.”

Dan noticed the air was cooler on his scales. He remembered their previous conversation about Fierston and the ancient group that held everything together. “What else do you know about the Elden, Mr. Vander?”

“Not much more. I learned a bit in school, but the most I learned was from my father. He would know.”

“Were any of them known as the Warlock of the Forest?”
Vander shook his head. “I don’t know. Possibly, but those are old titles. They haven’t been used in decades.”

“Since before the Clash War?”

Vander nodded.
“So maybe the Warlock of the Forest is someone old. Someone who has good knowledge of the forest and the many creatures within it.”

“You are getting good at this,” Vander beamed. “Maybe a police detective in your future.”
The wind picked up and howled, sending a deep chill down their backs. The ground was dark under stormy clouds.

Vander nervously tugged on the strap of his bag. “Well we should head back. The rain will be here soon.”

Dan tried to restrain a smile as he thought about being a detective. The many criminals thinking that they got away, but he was able to find that one clue that everyone else overlooked. Detective seemed like a very appealing avenue. Always some crime to solve. It certainly wouldn’t get boring.

“What do you think, Captain?” Vander asked. “We can discuss this back at the cottage. We don’t want to be out caught in the rain.”

Dan felt the pressure intensify on the back of his neck as he awoke from his daydream to bitter reality. “Yeah, let’s head back. I don’t want to leave Mark there for too long, plus … ” He glanced at the ancient statue, picturing his father writing the message. His mother huddled next to him, terrified of a dark presence around them. His heart raced and a sharp pain stung the inside of his balled up hand where his sharp nails dug into his thick skin. “I don’t think there is much else to look at here.”
Vander tensed up his shoulders and he held an uncomfortable pose. “Look, Dan. I understand you must be going through a lot right now, but just know we’ll find your parents.”

Dan confidently nodded. “I know.”
“But I just wanted you to know that. It’s easy to give up on hope when it seems to stay away from you after a while.”

Dan curtly replied. “Yeah, I know. Let’s go.”

“Okay,” Vander sneered. “just don’t go looking for trouble.”

Dan was quiet then tersely replied. “You sound a lot like my mom.”

“Well, I bet she’s a smart lady.”

“Yeah she is.” Dan’s voice trailed off.

They ascended back up the path toward the cottage. Dan was angry to think that his parents were only about a few miles from him. Afraid and beaten. Fear gripped him as the blood written message etched across his mind. The path grew darker as a rumble of thunder shook the sky. The trees rattled letting their leaves to flutter about obstructing their view. They picked up the pace until they reached the cottage in about twenty minutes.

Vander was winded as he unlocked the front door and walked into the living room. The wind billowed in through the broken windows, moving about pieces of shattered glass. Vander was breathing heavily, making Dan think that this was most physical activity he’s done in a while. He pulled out a key from his pocket and handed it to Dan. “This unlocks the basement.”

Dan ran over to the door, unlocked it and stormed down the wooden staircase. He stood in the doorway to where they dropped off Mark. He was excited to see him again and to share what he discovered, but his heart stopped as he stared over at an empty couch. Holy Kolsnout! He’s gone! Clang! Dan jumped at the unexpected noise that came from behind him. He turned and looked down the hall. It was short with the far end hidden in shadow. Vander’s electric lights from the hall seemed to avoid it.

Plonk! A ball plopped on the floor from the darkness and rolled by his feet. It was red with a blue star printed on one side. The typical kind you would find in a toy set. He walked forward and noticed an opened doorway through the darkness. Clang! Bang! Metal sheets struck the floor from the other end. He took precarious silent steps forward. It was easy to not be heard on the stone floor. They must have heard me rushing down the stairs. Dan didn’t have time to think of anything else. A tall silhouette entered through the doorway and hobbled toward him. It slowly was revealed in the light as it shifted its movements erratically like a zombie. Dan took a deep breath.

“You scared me,” Dan said, rushing over and hugging the revealed figure in the hall. “I’m glad you are alright.”

Mark appeared confused as he held up a heavily adorned jewelry box in his right hand. Dan released his grasp and noticed the letters W.S. separated by a keyhole on the front of the box.

“Dan,” Mark murmured, “Where are we?”