An Unsolvable Problem

Look at me. Hear my voice. I love you. I love this people…and that’s why I’m here. To help you. Even though you can’t see it yet, there is hope.

SHORTS are short stories to compliment the Chronicles of a Hero fantasy series. Connected to the story of Wendell P. Dipmier, who I’ve been writing about since 1990. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it for you. =)

Paid subscribers can access the entire archive, including each short story, along with other books, comics 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!

---

---

An Unsolvable Problem

Dax’s Origin Story

The sucking noise of hooves rose from the thick mud of the hillside. It mixed with the steeds labored breathing. Pulling the reigns, the white stallion slowed, its powerful chest heaving from the exertion, finally coming to a halt upon the flat mountain cliff.

He’d gotten away without being noticed.

There must be another way, he thought to himself. Yet the Omethiä knew he had no choice. 

It had been nearly an hour since he’d fled.

Each step was carefully laced with misdirection, spells of concealment and using the nearly forgotten art of ghosting. This was just to get outside the protective walls of the towers. It took time to pass through the sentry-protected streets of the city. Evolu trained to peer through shadow, notice the softest whisper, and to watch the patterns of animals. 

The Omethiä was the oldest, wisest, and most powerful of his people, not a schoolboy or unseasoned member of the guard. He still possessed skills exclusive to his calling…making him a formable foe in any environment.

Checking his cargo, stored an intricately weaved basket strapped to the side of his saddle, the old evolu slid gracefully from the animal. Letting his fingers slide up the large muscled neck, he touched the horses forehead with his own. “Kiitos Nopeus,” he whispered in the ancient tongue. “We made it,” he added in common, “though to what end I wonder.” His head fell back as his view shot to the heavens — the place where the wise most often looked for answers.

The stars were out in their brilliance, a billion billion flecks of diamond-dust, each representing a sun much like his own. According to the Evolu beliefs, at least one inhabited planet revolved around each of those suns. The full moon shone bright in the sky, its hypnotic blue light calming the soul.

…but there were no answers to be found this night.

It was strange.

To seek for the right path, but to find nothing?

Not once had the Omethiä been denied the most trivial of knowledge form the gods if it could not be found through books or experience. Yet tonight, and for the past fortnight, not a single clue.

Not a whisper from the heavens.

Could I be wrong, he wondered. Am I wrong in agreeing to this?

What truly troubled him wasn’t the choice he was making, but the natural consequences soon to follow.

She’ll hate me forever. The last love of my life and I will lose her over this. I know it.

Again his eyes looked to the cargo…a single basket strapped securely to the side of his saddle.

Weathered hands still strong and nimble, worked the leather strands. Patting Nopeus again in gratitude, the Omethiä gripped the basket tightly to his chest. 

If I cannot know thy will, then I will stay the course to the best of the knowledge and wisdom thou hast given to me.

Leaves, carried by the early morning breeze, rolled through the low grass and up over his feet as he wandered to the edge of the cliff.

His people were still slumbering. The lights of the city below mirrored the stars overhead, crafted by design. Small crystals, shaped by skilled hands and enchanted lanterns could be seen reflected across thousands of pools scattered among the lush landscape of his people. Vines and trees, some hundreds of years old, were shaped and trained to look as if nature had grown to fit their every need. Some of the largest trunks bent low to provide beams for buildings. Others ached to form patios, while others still meshed together in great fans, forming the walls to magnificent gardens. The oldest and strongest of the trees were painstakingly encouraged into winding staircases,…or wrapped around one another to form enormous spiraled cathedrals. All this was possible because of the nourishing natural springs underground.

The City of Many Waters, it was called. Home to what the children of men called ‘elves’.

Äsä-Illäriu was homeland to the evolu. An island of peace and tranquility.

Not lies and deception.

“Are you certain this is the right path to take?” he asked aloud, setting the basket gently at his feet. “Never have I sought answers from the stars and been denied,” he added. “It is not a good omen.”

For long moments his words fell into the breeze of the night.

A robed figure slid out from behind a knotted willow.

“I’m still puzzled how you can do that,” said the stranger, his smirk tainting his tone. “My breathing was controlled, body completely concealed…yet you still knew I was here?”