Nothing Right, Sleepless Night
July 27, 2015
Jack’s body ached from two dozen wounds, but his mind felt worse. Yes, they had done the near impossible and struck at The Darken army and made it back to tell the tale. Yet as Tynilia’s small body slumbered next to his, he found himself unable to find sleep.
He had just done as much damage as he could hope to do. They had done the best they could do, but it remained nowhere near enough. They might be able to trick Darken and ruin his plans and hit his forces, but in the end it was still thousands versus hundreds.
He rolled over onto his side. Besides the obvious overwhelming forces, backed by their own use of Magick, they still had herds of dinosaurs. They wouldn’t need the train that his team had destroyed, something could be rigged or Vile could even just march his troops through the brush.
Besides all this, there was Vile Darken himself. It might be a fight that could go either way if Vile, own his own, took on Jack and every ally he had. The world devouring sorcerer was beyond powerful. Jack had fought his other incarnations before and had never come close to defeating them. If anything, this world’s incarnation’s power far surpassed his own world’s version of the multi-dimensional menace.
So the question remained, what was there, if anything, he could do? He and his allies had made strong moves, had their share of luck and successes, but they were running out of ideas and even with all they had done, they might have optimistically taken out ten percent of his army.
This isn’t even my world, but I tried so hard, I can’t let these noble people fall. But if I can’t even save my world from Vile, how can I hope to save a world that’s not my own?
Then he thought about the world he was on—a majestic planet full of wonder and Magick. In all the fantasy novels he had read as a child, there was always some quest the hero went on. Whether it was to find a Magick sword or gem or perhaps gain the aid of some remote barbarian tribe, the hero always had to perform some task or quest.
Not wasting another moment, he set off to find Shadowknife. He knew the Darcarre would be up for the night was their time and he would need an interpreter.
* * *
An hour later found him and the Darcarre in Mythcul’s tent. Jack tried to wait patiently while Shadowknife explained to the head shaman of Yig what it was Jack sought.
Mythcul looked at Jack with a frown, but then addressed the dark one. When the old man had finished speaking, Shadowknife sighed and then looked at Jack.
“He has an answer, but none of us are going to like it.”
“There is a quest that many have gone on and all have failed. Even the Xemmoni have attempted it in the past, but over the centuries after losing so many good and strong warriors both Stalwart and Xemmoni have let the quest fade from knowledge and become little more than a campfire tale.”
“But what is it?”
“The isle of Molten Dragons.”
Swing back by next Monday and see if Jack takes up the Quest.