Chapter 21

Marissa and Beaumont traveled for the next full week, camping along the trail whenever they needed. Unlike the trip to Welton, this portion of the journey was fairly uneventful. They had heard unsettling noises on occasion and they traveled through the forests leading to the peninsula, but they never encountered sources of the odd cries.

The pair really had not spoken much since leaving Welton on the prior week. Marissa had a habit of involuntarily shunning those whom she felt wronged her. The small amount of comfort she had gathered for Beaumont was shattered that night at Jack's when he refused to join her.

She did feel a slight attraction to the blond adventurer, but it was not going to be her doing that the friendship would be rekindled.

While they were riding along across a forested hill, Beaumont finally decided to break the ice. "Ahem, if I might finally ask, why do you believe the source of the Pontia is located on the peninsula? I suppose I should have asked that before we spent a week traveling, but now is as good of a time as any."

Marissa was somewhat surprised that he had finally decided to speak to her. She obliged the young man with an answer, "During my studies, I was fortunate enough to come across a single story that mentioned a mysterious underground structure. On a piece of very old sheepskin were a few handwritten notes speaking of the place. As it turns out, the note had been left in a book detailing Pontian lore."

"Why is that important?" he asked.

"Much of what we know of the Pontia is hearsay. This is because of the dangers and the fears in fully exploring their intricacies. The entire race is entirely too dangerous to study by scholarly methods. In addition, the creatures of the Pontia do not fall into simple classes like those of other breeds. It seems as though each Pontia is unique and unidentifiable. Most of our knowledge of their kind is based on bits and pieces of miscellaneous information.

"Well when I found the note I was quite excited. Usually notes left in the books of Ducann had been accidentally inserted into the pages by those previously studying the texts. This bit of scribbling must have come from someone who had been researching the Pontia, just like I am. And further still, this note is very, very old."

Marissa pulled off the knapsack from across her back. She dug into the largest pocket and removed from it a rolled piece of sheepskin. She untied a knot holding the ancient note and unfurled it for Beaumont to see.

The note appeared to be very aged. The skin had turned almost completely white and its burned edges were slowly disintegrating. Faded red ink inscribed on the flexible surface contained numerous scribbles. The purpose of the markings was not easily apparent as this had been the personal note of some ancient scribe. It wasn't meant to be a piece of information to last throughout history.

"And after a bit of work, the only things I could make out that were easily apparent under these scribbles were two different words: 'Holloway' and 'source'. Those two bits of information are very distinct.

"And so, that is why I am heading to the Holloway Peninsula." Marissa finished her long response with a bit of pride and satisfaction. It was as if she had resolved some great mystery.

"And the personal note of this ancient person is all we have to go on? For all we know, the note could have been intended as something else… and maybe it was never intended to be related to the Pontia. Don't you think we are stretching logic by following a hunch?"

Marissa crooked her black eyebrows, "Following hunches often lead to great discoveries. Why should this be any different?"

"It isn't. I just thought you probably had more concrete evidence for choosing this long journey. You are a student of the libraries correct?"

"Well," Marissa tried to think of other reasons, "There are many writings that detail large concentrations of Pontia that have lived on the peninsula. A larger than normal attack rate has been recorded in that area. Wouldn’t those facts help lead to my conclusion?"

"I suppose you are right." He paused, "How strongly do you feel that your assumption is correct?"

"I have no reason to believe that I am incorrect, Beaumont. I believe it is by Heaven's will that I have come to this realization. I can sense that God has blessed my theory and He is with me on this final test."

Beaumont turned his head and rolled his eyes slightly. Marissa did not notice this slight dismissal of the Heavens.

"Changing the subject to something a bit lighter, might I ask where you grew up? You know, something we can talk about to help pass the time."

"I will tell you, but only if you do the same. Agreed?"

"Agreed," he said as a slight smile graced his chin.

For the next several hours the pair spoke of their past experiences. Marissa told Beaumont about her childhood in the desert and the orphanage, and he spoke of his time spent in the outskirts of Welton. Each traveler went into the minute details of their somewhat unordinary lives.

Both the young man and young woman were glad to be speaking to each other. Bits of humor were interjected into their conversation and they both laughed. Marissa was happy to feel comfortable with Beaumont again. It pleased her to feel a connection with the young man and she was growing fonder of their time spent together.

The forest they were traveling through consisted of the same tall redwood trees that covered this area. Their tall stalks seemed like giant columns, and their branches were only viewable several hundred feet up into the air. The particular area they were in was sparse and there was only a small amount of trees encircling them. The pair and their horses were also ascending up a small hill that was blanketed with the fallen leaves of the ancient trees. The air was cold as the fall was nearing its end and winter was fast approaching.

It was getting close to dusk on this day of travel, and the red from the sun was casting a honeyed color upon all their surroundings. As the golden orb began to set across the horizon, its bright light glinted against the young mage's eyes. She squinted as they continued their journey.

Unexpectedly, Marissa felt something slam into her right side and she was thrown from her horse.

She landed and slid down the leaf-covered slope, unable to gather a handhold. She continued gliding across the slippery floor, up until she reached a spot in the forest where the floor had given way to a sinkhole. At that point, a pit several feet wide led down into a thick black darkness. Lining one edge of the pit was a single tree with its bare roots dangling in the air. She desperately tried to grab onto anything within her grasp as she fell into the hole.

Her fall into the nothingness was halted when her boot became caught on the exposed roots. Her body was pulled back from the black abyss with a jolt as her boot continued to hold onto the tree's root system. She hung then helplessly, desperately trying to right herself without falling into the hole.

In the distance, she could hear Beaumont struggling with whatever had attacked them. The violent sounds of clashing metal swords echoed through the trees. Grunts and howls permeated the air. The man and the attacker continued to fight until a single cry was heard. That final blood curdling scream of rage reverberated amongst the branches.

"Help!" she cried out. "Beaumont!"

The sounds of footsteps crushing the leaf covered floor began to get closer. The crackling of brittle leaflets was getting louder. The leaves around the pit rustled and a few of the dry pads floated into the black abyss. From out above the sinkhole's edge appeared the victorious Beaumont.

"Give me your hand!" Beaumont screamed as he removed his leather gloves.

Marissa was still facing downwards into the pit and was unable to grab a hold of his hands directly. Noting that she might fall in at any minute, she curled up at her torso and tried to right herself. As she twisted, his hand caught hers and she was freed from the dangling roots.

Beaumont leaned back and tried to pull the young mage out of the pit. He wasn't terribly strong, but with some effort he had been able to backpedal and pull Marissa out and over the sinkhole's edge. The young man fell onto his back as she was pulled face first along the covered ground.

Still panting, he got back up and pulled Marissa up from off of her front. He dragged her further away from the pit's edge. As he knelt, he pulled the young mage into his arms trying to make sure she was far enough away from the deep hole. As he worked to regain his breath, he held her tightly to his chest. Beaumont wanted to make sure that she did not slide away from him.

The exhausted pair laid there amongst the dry leaves for quite some time, long after the sun had set. Both of their bodies were very sore, and it felt good to take a rest. In addition, the forest floor was getting cold with the arrival of nightfall. The warmth from their embrace made it harder to separate.

Oddly, Marissa was surprised when Beaumont began to stroke her wispy hair. His coarse fingers felt strangely soothing as he ran them across her head. Each stroke helped to melt away the distress lingering within her body and she began to relax. Each pleasant caress increased the weight of her eyelids. Within moments, the young woman had fallen asleep within her rescuer's arms.

The young mage dreamed as she slept. Visions of a warm comfortable mattress with an incredibly soft bedspread crept into her mind. The young girl was wrapping herself tightly within the toasty sheets. With a large feathered pillow between her arms, she squeezed the fluffy object gently. She snuggled into a curled position within the sheets and felt a pleasant sensation of euphoria in this imaginary bed.

Marissa awoke a few hours later to find herself still embracing the young man. He was lying flat on the forest's underbrush and both of her arms were wrapped tightly around his torso. She lifted her head from his leathered chest and looked into the blue eyes of the young man.

"Evening," he said.

The mage did not jump, nor did she shudder. A wave of curiosity ran over her as she continued to stare.

Beaumont continued, "I see that you are comfortable. That is good."

With her arms still wrapped around him, she tried to peer around their immediate area. "Where are the horses?" she asked.

"I think they are down by a small pond at the bottom of this hill. When I called to Reigard, both him and Faerun walked past our current position and further down the hill. Even right now I can see them standing at the water's edge."

"And the beast you slayed earlier?"

"I don't know. I assume its corpse is still at the path near the top where I left it. Just like you, I haven't moved from this spot."

"Ahem, well… should we set up camp for the night?"

"Yes, we should," he agreed. A slight smile was on his face as he spoke.

Rather casually Marissa removed her arms from around his torso and stood up. She stood there in front of the young man and stretched. Her muscles and joints ached, but the source of the slight pain was not caused by the day's events. Instead her soreness was like that of someone waking from a deep sleep. She lifted her arms high into the air and took a few deep breaths.

The pair made their way down to the small pond at the base of the forest. Just as Beaumont had said, both of their horses were standing near each other at the water's edge. It also looked like all of their equipment was still intact.

A partially full moon was shining in the night sky and its white form was being reflected off of the glassy surface. The soft pale light added a soothing glow to the forest's interior.

Marissa unpacked her bedroll and laid it upon the forest floor near the base of a large tree. There, underneath its leaves, she set up her camp. Beaumont unpacked his beddings as well and placed his roll a few feet from Marissa.

As time passed, the young mage tried to get some sleep within her bedroll, but she had little success. She tossed and turned and found it uncomfortable to stay in just one position. The cold mist hanging above the forest floor was also making it difficult to stay warm. Her body shivered with each evening breeze.

Frustrated after a few minutes of trying to sleep in futility, she sat up from her uncomfortable bed. Sitting up in her roll, she looked over to her traveling partner.

Beaumont too was also awake, and he had apparently been watching the young woman toss and toil for quite some time.

"Need a little help?" he asked politely.

Without much thought, Marissa nodded with agreement towards her male companion.

Beaumont stood up, lifted his roll from the ground, and walked over to Marissa's tree. He propped up the bedding against the red bark of her tree just behind the young mage and sat down. He motioned for her to come closer with his ungloved hand. The young woman complied and she scooted back over in his direction.

With her back facing towards the young man, she leaned backwards against his soft leather armor. To keep out the cold, she pulled up her bedroll around her. Once she had situated herself, Beaumont placed his arms around her chest with a gentle hug.

Stress once again left her body and she felt relaxed.

A slight breeze blew through the branches above and dislodged a few autumnal leaves from the forest's canopy. Gently they fell, swinging and swaying in the air as if they were weightless. Like the touch of a soft kiss, they landed on the glassy water in front of the pair. Calm ripples echoed out across the moonlit surface.

Marissa embraced the young man's right arm with her small hands. She snuggled her face against his white sleeve as if it were a pillow. It only took a few more moments before the young mage was fast asleep within her companion's arms.

There on the forest floor, the pair slept underneath the large tree. As the stars made their slow journey across the black sky, the duo of the mage and the adventurer kept their mutual embrace. They slept peacefully and without worry.

Continue reading onto Chapter 22