Mordred 9.1

9

The Previous Realm

I held hard on the sleeve of his coat while he dangled over the cliff. He refused to climb not until he had retrieved his knitting stick. I pulled harder at the sleeve but the cloth was giving way from my hold. I shouted at him.

“Rumpel, grab my hand.” I called out to the tailor. I was assigned to track him down for it was the instruction of the Dark Queen. She told me that he knew too much and needed to be silenced. I sided with her after our failed attempt to delay the appointment of Merlin to the Head Councillor. He was appointed despite the incident with Lancelot. Such was cold dedication of the Council that nothing will hamper the ongoing ceremony. They feared more was without the Head Councillor. A position that needed filing or the whole community of wizards and witches will rebel and then chaos will occurred as once before.

“No, I will not be without it.” Rumpel cried out. “I have no skills without it.”

I looked down after him, and looked down the crevasse where Rumpel had fallen into. I met Rumpel some distance back which we agreed to meet there. It was on the assumption that we were to speak but the words we had then were spells.

“You are condemned to die by the Queen.” I called up the earthen spell to enclave the tailor on its legs. The soils in the ground climbed from the heels toward the knees and harden up with the moisture I spread onto it before it was harden by the heat of the intense fire. The tailor saw the entrapment and with the tap of his knitting sticks, the compacted ground on his legs began to vibrate and then crumbled. I saw the strands of string pushed out through the minute gaps to crumble the earthen form.

“Fool!” Rumple took flight on his legs towards the rear and I gave chase. I threw at him the spell of the wind but he thwarted it with a blanket over his back. I threw at him the fire balls that I called on my left hand at the blanket but he sewn the burnt patches up. He was reaching the edge of a cliff and then changed his direction to run parallel to it. It was by unforeseen incident that he tripped on an uprooted tree branch. When he fell, one of his sticks dropped from his right hand over the cliff.

“My stick...” Rumpel cried out when he landed on the ground. I had caught up with then but the tailor had jumped over the edge to reach for his stick. It was stuck in between some rocks some distance down. I grabbed hold of his right sleeve and held hard.

“Rumpel, hold onto my hand.” I cried out. “I will get the stick for you.”

I called on the wind to sweep it up but the stick would not move.

“It won’t work. The stick is the master. It does not respond to other arts.” Rumpel replied while he was stretching out for it. I saw the predicament and explained to him.

“I can get it but you must come first.” I gave my arm a mighty pull and Rumpel was soon up on the edge. I gave another pull and flung him over my back. I then looked down at the stick.   I can’t reach it nor could I move it with the crafts. So I did the natural thing. I called up the earthen move to shake the stones loose. And when the stick fell with it, I called up a whoosh of wind which blew the whole load up and over the edge. The stick fought against the element but it was without its source of energy which was the tailor. The stick flew up high for me to grab it.

“Give it back! It’s mine.” Rumpel called out. I looked towards the tailor.

“It is not yours anymore. I own it.” I gloated on my acquisition but unknown to me, once the stick was near to  its real master it vibrated before it slipped away to him. Rumpel was ecstatic when he got the stick again. He clicked the sticks together and weaved a tapestry of silk. The cloth sailed towards me and covered my face. When I pulled it away, Rumpel had left the scene. He left me a message on the silk cloth.

“A debt that will be repaid.”