Chapter Three

Skkar


"I still don't need to be healed!" Gillion insisted. Alkin, riding beside him, seemed to think otherwise.
"Gillion," Alkin explained, "You can barely use your left hand!" Alkin was now traveling with his hood down, revealing a masked raccoon-like face. Long hair randomly twisted down to his shoulders, blowing slightly in the wind traveling through the desolate swamps. His eyes were such a light shade of gray that from a distance they appeared entirely white.
"Well excuse me," Gillion spoke sarcastically, rubbing a badly scarred hand, "I thought it was the nice kind of owl - you know - the type wizards have."
Alkin's mind wasn't changing. "You can't even hold the reins," he pointed out, concerned. Sure enough, Gillion's quivering hand had almost no control over the horse.
"So? The horse is smart enough, I don't need to control him," defended Gillion, right before being carried into another low tree branch. While Gillion was recovering, straightening his helmet again, Alkin quietly summoned a ball of while light in his right hand. Without warning, his other hand snapped out and twisted Gillion's arm painfully backwards. Alkin smashed the ball of light onto Gillion's injured hand as Gillion escaped and recoiled.
"What was that for?" he questioned, before noticing his hand was completely healed. He turned away. "Well, now you have to heal my elbow you broke."
Alkin laughed. "Only if you want me to break your shoulder."
Forrever quietly stood behind a large, moss covered tree. She had been following them, waiting for them to decide they needed help. Or for Alkin to decide, anyway. Gillion would never admit he was lost.
Alkin looked around. "I think we've passed that tree before," he said, pointing to a large tree standing next to him, "I carved my name into it."
Gillion rode closer and looked at the moss covered surface. The word "Alkin" had been engraved in with a sharp stone. "Well, I'm sure there's plenty of Alkins lost in these swamps," Gillion spoke, riding away.
It was quite fun watching them quarrel, but Forrever felt that she should help. She quietly scaled the tree she was hiding behind, and climbed out onto a limb to watch from above.
"Well, maybe we could use a little help," Gillion admitted, "what happened to that path finding girl?"
Forrever, now seated on the branch, bent her legs under it and swung backwards. Alkin, now face to face with an upside-down Forrever, jumped backwards off his horse in surprise. He got up immediately, wiping the mud from his robe. "How long have you been following us?" he questioned angrily.
"Since I determined you had no chance of getting out," she replied.
"Since the beginning, then," Gillion muttered, not realizing the joke was about him.
"So, where are you headed to?" Forrever asked. After the third time they went in a circle, she had given up finding it out herself.
"We're looking for that man we mentioned earlier," responded Alkin, "he goes by the name of Skkar, conveniently. Since you gave him directions, perhaps you could help us find where he went."
Forrever thought for a moment. She wouldn't usually tell where someone went, especially to their enemies. But she still disliked the undead. "He went north towards the nearby village about an hour ago," Forrever paused, guessing which way north was. "He should be coming right this way."
"Good," Gillion began, but he was interrupted by Forrever.
"Not good, he had two skeletons with him, the powerful looking kind."
"Liches, most likely," Alkin explained, "Undead spellcasters," he paused. "We wouldn't stand a chance."
Forrever looked around. "I know a hiding place around here, we could wait. They'd pass right over us."
"That sounds like it would work," agreed Alkin. Stubbornly, Gillion just nodded and turned away.

It was almost twilight by the time they heard something approaching. The three of them were hiding in a large cave under a cliff, large enough to also hold the horses. It was an ideal hiding place. From the south, it looked like a simple cliff, only visible when looking from the north. Since Skkar was headed north, they had nothing to worry about.
The sound of something approaching got louder, Forrever signaling for them to be quiet. Even the horses seemed to comply. The only noises that could be heard in the darkness of the cave were the approaching figures outside and the soft wind whistling through the entrance. The sound of running horses became distinguishable. Now even the wind seemed to become silent.
Looking up from the cave, they saw a great gray stallion leaping off the cliff. They could not make out the rider's face, but he wore a tattered black cape, partially curled around his fox-like tail. His hair was pitch black and tied in a ponytail, loose strands still flowing through the air. His right hand held a rusty silver cutlass with a skull-shaped emerald in the middle. Two more horses leapt from the cliff, only these were not normal horses. The white bones showed through decaying flesh on one, while the other had long since become a complete skeleton. Regardless, the steeds were perfect for their lich riders. The liches, clad in chain mail armored robes, laughed wildly as they soared through the air. Several bones fell off the skeletal horse as it landed, splashing into the swampy waters.
The one on the living horse, Skkar, was headed directly for a tree. He turned his head around, revealing a pair of the most fearsome green eyes. If Forrever's eyes were said to appear to illuminate, this man's eyes did illuminate. Forrever and Gillion backed up slightly, afraid of being seen. One on Skkar's eyes was half closed due to a deep, swollen red scar running from the center of his forehead to the bottom of his jaw. He nodded to one of the liches and it raised it's staff at the tree. In a flash of green flame, the tree stood no more. The gray stallion leapt over the dieing green flames as the undead horses passed right through them, lich riders laughing madly as their bodies burned. They couldn't feel it, and weren't worried. And then, as quickly as they came, they were gone.
Forrever, Alkin, and Gillion stood watching the burning tree stump for almost an hour, before Gillion got up. "Well," he announced, "now that that's over, why don't you come to the tavern with us, Miss Forrever?"
"You seem to have your priorities straight," Alkin commented quietly. Gillion turned towards him.
"We're traveling that way anyway. They don't allow undead in the tavern, so maybe we can get Skkar while he's alone."
"I guess I do have to help you get through the last eighty feet of the swamps," Forrever said. Gillion laughed, but Alkin knew she was serous.