Luther started at the head of their line, but not three minutes passed before Lyall took the lead. The trees on the path before existed in clumps to give their group sufficient protection from the sun and coverage from any wandering eyes—humanoid or other. Now the rough-barked trunks flooded their path with tangled roots peppered with deceptive shadows making Luther and Aurae curse under their breaths as their toes and heels slipped and caught. It was only the steep drop to their right and Lyall’s sure footing testing out the best routes over branch and rock keeping them along the correct path. 

Luther and Aurae began to lag. Lyall didn’t halt immediately but allowed the distance to grow so he could find a boulder to sit upon that wouldn’t stab his rump and close his eyes.  Like the scalding burst of air rushing out of an open oven door, Lyall clenched his lashes and held his breath from the onslaught of chattering trees. What had been a lazy wind now gnashed the high branches as dueling nails while pain twisting and writhing stabbed down from his temples, across his jaw, and along both sides of his neck to form a choke at the bottom of his throat. A swell of panic quivered his lungs, but Lyall breathed deep and slow. This wasn’t the first time this happened. Several inhales and exhales claimed him control of the sensation where it shortly eased into merely a heavy weight across his back instead. 

“Lyall?” Luther and Aurae caught up faster than expected. Luther’s hand gingerly tested the allowance of its presence on his shoulder. The kind touch batted the weight away as if it was no more than a lost puff of cloud. “Should we take a break? You’re sweating and pale.” 

“I’m alright. I thought I had time enough to sit and forge a connection with the trees, but you two moved quickly.” 

“Well, seeing you sit and abruptly seem in pain hastened our steps,” Luther gave a light tut. 

“Of course,” Lyall realized wryly. Thorne knew his habits, and Lyall had gotten used to working alone too quickly on these jobs. “I apologize. No damage has been done to me. This occurs sometimes when the trees are bored or neglected, for their overeager latch can be difficult to weather. It’s backing off now.” 

“Do the trees have actual voices?” Aurae asked, pressing her ear to the closest trunk’s bark. Lyall smiled. 

“No. The most accurate explanation is that I can hear their emotions. These trees are quite bored. It seems that others do come through rarely, and,” Lyall closed his eyes again to concentrate, “the trees like us far better than a group that came some time ago. We also haven’t reached the point where we’re to turn yet.” 

“That’s a handy ability,” Aurae noted innocently. 

“No, it’s elbow-y,” Lyall beamed. 

“...What?” Aurae’s nose crinkled, and she sighed at Luther’s laughter. “I want to hear the joke!” 

“It was a bad joke, to be honest,” Luther assuaged, suppressing his mirth behind his hand. 

Still, the story was told as Lyall stood and resumed leading. The roots no longer tripped them up, and the sharp turn left onto a new path was as obvious as could be thanks to the excitement of the trees curious to see how far their trio could go. Though Lyall noted that as ominous, their steady hike progressed safely with them winding higher, cresting a shorter peak, and descending into a hidden cirque made into a lake of green from its edges drenched in pines. Lyall thought he noticed an odd protrusion of stone amongst the needle tops, but he dismissed it as a trick of his eyes. Aurae was the one to properly call it out when the bending path rounded them onto the other side of a jagged crag. 

“I think we’ve found the ‘know it when we see it’ part,” she pointed northwest. 

The path continued to slope down, but there past the trees was their destination—an impressive tower of stone seven-stories high. The strange sight was made stranger when their three reached the end of the road to find it a literal end. The bowl-shaped depression that was the cirque burrowed low to leave a vertigo-inducing sight as the tower floated above the great drop with a gap of over twenty feet to reach the disconnected platform before the front door. 

“What do you make of this, our magical friend?” Lyall shifted and put Luther in the front once more. 

“There’s definitely magic at play here,” Luther stated matter-of-factly. 

“I had a suspicion,” Aurae replied in the same way. Lyall snorted, and Luther continued. 

“The architecture is of an older style, one popular about a hundred-and-fifty-years ago, although the natural decay of the material is significantly less. The whole thing,” Luther stuck his hand out, and wisps of azure flamed from around his eyes, “is awash in the energies of almost every school of magic. However, I cannot get a gauge on what awaits us inside.” 

“Can you fly us over?” Aurae asked. 

“I can slow our descent to a safe speed if we fall a great distance, but flight remains out of my grasp for the moment.” 

“Can we teleport over?” Lyall next checked. 

“Technically. Unfortunately, even for it being my proficiency, teleportation spells require more arcane energy than most. I only teleported us so readily before as I knew we faced no true risk. I’d rather preserve what I can here by trying an easier spell instead.” 

“Which is?” 

“A long jump spell. I can cast it on all of us, and it’ll last for several minutes. One of us can jump over attached to a rope. If that person misses, I’ll cast the slow fall spell where the individual can be pulled back up without harm. On a successful landing, the rope will be attached to the next person for the one by the tower to pull them up if they happen to miss.” 

“You’re wanting me to be the jumper, aren’t you?” Lyall declared. “You’re looking at me as you speak.” 

“I was hoping you’d go first,” Luther admitted. “You’ll not hear from me any delusions that my physical might compares to yours.” 

“I’m not the fondest of heights,” Aurae added straightforwardly. 

“Then I’ll be first,” Lyall agreed. 

All three of them had a coil of rope in their bags, but Aurae’s was the one not shoved deep at the bottom under everything else. Lyall affixed a strong knot around his waist and watched Luther swirl his hands, clasp them together, and flourish them open with a low grunt of words beyond Lyall’s knowledge to coat them each in a cocoon of white that faded with his next breath. 

“The spell lasts for five minutes,” Luther revealed. 

“I can feel the extra push,” Lyall remarked, bouncing on his toes. “Here’s hoping I don’t overshoot and break my face upon the door.” 

“That can happen, so please be careful.” 

Lyall wished he hadn’t said anything. Unwavering confidence flinched, hollowing his chest and dizzily stretching the distance to the platform when he lined up before the gap. Lyall hopped again forcing his muscles to adjust to the magic, and he sent a thought to the trees below the drop to please cushion his fall if anything were to go wrong. It was only after the pebbles under Lyall’s feet crunched at his bursting release of speed that he realized he had time for a practice jump not above a deadly distance, but his fate was sealed. The edge of the cliff approached. Muscles hot with adrenaline, Lyall’s mental trajectory altered in an instant from worrying about hitting his face to being ready to make the leap no matter the cost. He had a cleric to heal him now. Wasn’t a broken nose better than risking a fall? 

Lyall leapt. The world vanished beneath his feet, yet his sight remained on the door. Spiraling arms steadied his angle and challenged the cold wind stinging his cheeks threatening to tip him sideways. In the brief, weightless rise at the top of his arc, Lyall certainly believed he flew. Then his stomach plummeted, the unforgiving stone of the few steps before the platform sped at him, and no time remained for him to figure out a soft landing. His ankles groaned concerningly at the halting impact Lyall rolled into, tossing him across the platform and slamming his back and skull into the wooden door. Orbs of light dotted his vision. His chest forgot air. 

“That was an amazing jump! Are you alright?!” Aurae shouted. 

Lyall heaved in a breath and raised his arm. 

“I can heal you once I get across!” 

Thankfully, his vision cleared while his legs didn’t sway when he stood. Lyall tied the rope to one of the stone balusters instead and saw Aurae was next in line as she secured her end around her waist. If she had any doubts or fears, Lyall spotted none. She bolted, she leapt, and her landing was harmless given that Lyall cushioned her drop onto the stone. They stood, but Aurae dropped to her knees at their collective notice of a mistake. 

“We’re idiots!” Aurae shook her head. “Now Lulu doesn’t have a rope!” 

“We missed that fact, but it’ll be alright,” Lyall reassured. Taking Aurae’s end, he attached it to an arrow, aimed, and sent the rope back by sticking the projectile into a patch of dirt by Luther’s feet. “A good rule for adventuring, bemoaning mistakes comes after the mission’s successful end.” 

“I’ve been told I can be dramatic,” Aurae tapped her finger on her cheek. She rose and ruffled his hair, fingertips glowing white. “I’ll heed your advice well.” 

Lyall’s headache and sore back vanished. He ruffled her hair in return. The two watched Luther slowly attach himself to the rope. His ginger movements even before his lackluster run began notified Lyall to take some slack from their end to hand to Aurae. 

“Be ready to pull.” 

“I get you.” She called, “You need more speed, Lulu!” 

Luther obeyed and ran faster. It just wasn’t enough. Lyall knew it as soon as Luther jumped, dancing Lyall around Aurae to the end of the steps with one hand latched onto a baluster and the other out and waiting. 

“Pull!” 

Aurae pulled. Luther gasped as the rope wrenched him forward—and wrenched apart the knot at his waist. Momentum lost, Luther hovered still in that impossibly frozen moment. His blank eyes locked with Lyall’s where, in his stupor, Luther made no attempt to cast the slow fall spell. 

Lyall launched off the lowest step and cracked the weakened stone from the force. Lyall’s left hand stung with scalding friction tears from his left hand glued to the baluster as he whipped out into the air, thinking of nothing besides catching the wizard. Their forearms slammed together, although the inertia of impact quickly slipped Lyall’s grasp from Luther’s elbow to his wrist. Lyall refused to relent any more of the man’s arm. They swung back and forth like a pendulum, Luther freezing, before slowing to a stop. 

“Here, here!” Aurae turned into a red blur of motion. “The rope—!” 

Lyall didn’t wait for her to gather the hanging rope for Luther to grab. All the muscles in his body coiled until his skin went numb, and pure will sprung loose. Luther cried in surprise at being unceremoniously tossed upwards where he landed high on Lyall’s chest; Lyall’s arm clung around his thighs. Aurae leapt into action. 

“I got you!” She grasped Luther’s arms and hoisted him safely onto the steps. Lyall’s hand clutching the stone fuzzed in warning, but Aurae nabbed him to deliver him safely up as well. “Anything hurt?” 

“My pride...” Luther mumbled. He ran both his hands over his face, hiding a building blush, while Aurae quickly sniffed out Lyall’s throbbing palm. A soft brush of her fingers across the sore skin healed trickling, pinprick drops of crimson. Luther cringed. “S-Sorry. I didn’t consider that I don’t know how to tie a strong knot or that I’ve never cast the slow fall spell while falling before. I had my concerns that I wouldn’t be able to make it before you jumped, Aurae, but I ignorantly assumed it’d all work out somehow.” 

“Well, it did work out, didn’t it? In any case, a good rule for adventuring is that bemoaning mistakes comes after the mission’s successful end.” 

“Wise words,” Lyall whispered, grinning. 

“It’s not like we’re going to kick you off the edge for not being a good jumper, so let’s see if we woke anything up inside and nitpick each others’ faults over tasty drinks later,” Aurae grabbed both under their arms and got them standing. 

“Thank you, Aurae, and thank you, Lyall,” Luther inhaled deeply and nodded at each of them. 

“It’s no matter, Lulu,” Lyall teased. 

“I think it’s a cute nickname,” Aurae defended chipperly. “I’m still working on yours, Lyall.” 

“I don’t mind it,” Luther smiled. Another chance to fill his lungs halted his body’s shaking. Sparks of green fizzed around his hands outstretched towards the wooden door. “I don’t sense any magical traps, and I don’t see any manual ones with a cursory glance.” Luther gently took hold of the metal knob and began to turn it. “It’s unlocked.”

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Until the next chapter is available, these other Action Fantasy entries are sure to entertain you. Links to each are in the description below.

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