Demoni Vankil - Letter Three
I immediately recognized the signs of Täuku and their abominable craft—tearing at the very elements of nature to do their bidding. A terrifying race.
Demoni Vankil is the historical and award-winning work of Höbin Luckyfeller, and the precursor to Chronicles of a Hero.
An ancient puzzle box.
Fourteen letters.
A Council of Whispers.
…and a clerk.
Discover the 700 year old secret millions died to protect.
Paid subscribers can access the entire archive of this series from the beginning, along with other stories and every article I’ve ever written. If you aren’t a paid subscriber, you can access the archive for free with a 7-day trial OR earn a paid membership by joining the referral program!
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LETTER THREE
My Beloved Ethany,
It has been thirty-one days since I have beheld your lovely face and my heart aches for you and the girls.
I am told it is safe for me to send letters now, as we have finally arrived at the hidden place. Where none will search and nothing will be found. It’s fit for dwarves, I’m sure, but not the likes of me. But I thank the stars that we have traveled safely, for it was a long and arduous trip. Our camp is so remote, I fear regular communications will be challenging. I shall write you faithfully and send my messages in bundles as often as the opportunity arises.
Oh, what I have seen during my travels, Ethany!
Dragons! True as the red in my beard, I beheld a full grown dragon near the winter foothills not more than a week into our journey. The beast was so large its wings blotted out the rays of the sun several times. My heart was pounding as we kept to the trees to protect the horses. As it shrieked through the sky, I started but the Gypsy in our party, Shiro by name, laughed at me before he explained it was a female in search of food for her young. That cry scared beasts into movement, providing her with a successful hunt. For Melody’s sake, I had hoped to see a young beast in the sky, but my searching was for naught.
The Kutollum are a jolly people, my love, full of lore and hope for the future. Their leader, Hammel, is a soft-spoken dwarf and appears thoughtful. Being well versed in the history of their race, he occupied many tedious days with ancient stories of his ancestors. The most interesting being why they migrated north to the ice wastelands. We have some things in common. Hammel also has two daughters, of whom he speaks dearly.
A fortnight into the trip, we were unfortunate to travel through the remains of a ravaged Westgaiden. Someone had burned the homes and decimated the farms, leaving not a breath of life behind. A heavy residue of sulfur burned our lungs. I immediately recognized the signs of Täuku and their abominable craft—tearing at the very elements of nature to do their bidding. A terrifying race. It will be years before anything will grow. My mind agonized for you and I spent the rest of the day in silence, hoping and praying you and the girls are somewhere warm and safe. I am grateful for the vow of the Queen to keep you far away from the devastation of this war.
It’s utterly cold and desolate here. In the evenings, I miss your warmth. I try to focus on the early morning laughter of the girls and the songs sung while braiding one another’s hair. Your soft voice in the kitchen, singing to the rising sun. Each of your voices echoes clearly in my mind, bringing warmth to my soul.
I am confident in my assignment and believe it will go faster than expected, my love, and therefore I pray to return to you sooner than expected. Let the girls know about my travels, especially little Melody. I am sure she would be fascinated by what I have seen in the past three weeks. Oh, the stories I will tell them when I get home!
Kiss the little ones for me, soundly on the forehead as I would have done.
All my love,
Eamon
Täuku. Now, there’s a surprising development in the war. I don’t think I’ve seen the Täuku involvement recorded anywhere. There is nothing so vile or horrifying in this world than that damnable race and nothing, NOTHING I hate more! The lowliest of beasts and creatures should hunt, disembowel, and burn every wretched Täuku, so that they may tread their ashes under their hooves!
I digress. My apologies. Wanting to trace Eamon’s steps, I secured a copy of an ancient map of Humär and began tracing from Andilain northward. It was easy enough locating the land where the dragons were, but there was no reference to a town called Westgaiden. So I searched for an even older record that told me Westgaiden was a small fishing village on the west coast.
West coast? That’s also puzzling. I guess there’s nothing like taking the scenic route. But a 3-week journey on horseback by an unknown route makes locating his end position sketchy. Maybe that was the point.
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Paid subscribers can access the entire archive of this series from the beginning, along with other stories and every article I’ve ever written. If you aren’t a paid subscriber, you can access the archive for free with a 7-day trial OR earn a paid membership by joining the referral program!