The Pass by Zion Kistler (top 100 novels txt) 📕

the actual labor, and all of the other things like bending down which Treaf did not like.
Treaf came to thinking once he was walking towards the ramparts, today the work would be going a lot faster if a lot of people were working, but there are only a few. He glanced around, and realized that the old battlefield looked sparse and actually a little better than it had when Treaf had last seen it. I guess yesterday they must have gotten a lot of work done.
Presently he arrived where a few others were not working, and he had taken a cart along with him. There he started disposing of all the dead bodies, weaponry, and other things that were strewn across the dirt. Treaf wished he could have had something to cover his face, and he thought that he was completely going to puke, when there came something a bit of a surprise. Treaf heard Mildo, and looked around, wondering if it was his imagination. But no, Mildo was standing a ways off from Treaf, and he was calling him. Treaf went over, wondering what it could possibly that Mildo wanted.
Once he arrived, Treaf said, “Look, I don’t have much time, so if you’re going to blab please think of me.” Treaf felt like this was good enough an explanation, so he hoped that Mildo had not misunderstood or done something else stupid.
“I was thinking of the fact that you might need some water,” he said, and Treaf actually wondered at a time like that why Mildo would want to go out of his way to help him. Perhaps he feels bad for me, Treaf smiled, and the water ran down his chin, making his shirt wet. He stowed the water in his pocket rather precariously, and with that he walked off, vaguely thanking Mildo for the water. The sun was still out, so he would need it; luckily the season was going to change soon, and in maybe a week the snow would start coming down, and Treaf wondered if that would be more miserable than very hot sun. Nah. But I’ll see how I like it when it comes. And with that he loaded a crusty sword in the cart, glad that the work force had given him gloves.

After dinner, (which did not have any special highlights,) Treaf went up with all the others to the sleeping quarters. Treaf had found somewhere in his bags a book, and so he read, realizing that he had packed it on their way out of Gandria. Kinda weird what I used to read back then, he thought, as the words going through his brain were processed into the story being held. It doesn’t seem like fiction is of any use to me right now, but I would rather be doing this than trying to fall asleep. Right then he was reading about a dragon, and frankly he didn’t really care if the Goblin warrior slew it or not. It seemed to be a book for small children, and Treaf felt partially like a wimp, and he decided not to read it again. He wasn’t interested anyway.

In the morning Treaf felt like getting up earlier, and so he hung around the sleeping area, getting slightly bored, but he then went down to the kitchens and waited for breakfast.
It soon came, and Treaf quickly wolfed it down, while all of the others stayed there and took their time. He was actually in a good mood, because today he was going to do something different; he was determined of that. There was simply not enough to do if he was planning not to go insane, so working was no longer an option. I really don’t know what I’ll do if I just stay here and wander the streets, Treaf thought, but then, wandering the streets didn’t seem to be like such a bad idea. Maybe I should go to a different part of the town, or try out something new. He thought this as he was rounding a corner, and he was soon wondering as he walked the streets what other people thought of him. They probably thought that he was very short if he was supposed to be his age, and that he looked like he was threatening, but not threatening if he wasn’t in a bad mood. Otherwise he was pretty normal.
I wonder if there’s any kind of store for any kind of information. He generally didn’t care about history, but in a time like this it would seem appropriate. Other than what he had heard from Mildo and Hibned, or Thwain, or whoever it had been—there had been no reports or information on Mourgorth or any kind of army. It would be pretty bad if this whole thing didn’t exist, Treaf realized, but then quickly came to acknowledge that they would fight the Blackwolf Spirits, and bring an end to them.
After a few minutes of looking around, Treaf found a store labeled: A GENERAL ACCOUNTANT OF JARAGONIAN HISTORY. He doubted that there would be much for him in a history of The Jaragon, but usually stores lied a bit and really had more than they gave credit for, or had less. Either way, Treaf walked in, and beheld a scented, quite dark room with lamplight.
There were shelves of books pretty much everywhere due to the relatively small room, so Treaf soon began searching the shelf facing him. There were histories of kings and other people, which Treaf quickly shoved back, and there were histories of poems, which were of no use; there were city building records, histories of a few magic users, and with these Treaf actually read a few pages, because anything to do with magic could be related to Mourgorth. It really is too bad there aren’t any topics to search by, Treaf noted, after he had spent quite a while on a certain row. Basically the whole thing is just a jumble of used pages. There were diagrams of certain inventions, including one of the first ever siege machines, and Treaf realized that the volumes in that place must of have been quite old, for siege machines had been used for quite a time.
After about a half hour more, he came upon a book labeled: Mourgorth: A Basic History. Treaf was actually dully surprised, for there in clear print was what he was looking for. He was surprised also that the bookstore had actually had a book on Mourgorth.
After no further consideration, Treaf flipped open the first page. The chapter was about the very beginning of him, and Treaf was excited to finally learn about him. And then I’ll know what happened to him to make him go wrong. After a bit more of flipping around, Treaf came to the second chapter, and this was about the next stage in his life. Every chapter went up to the stage in which Treaf guessed he would be an adult.
After making sure that the book was exactly what Treaf needed, he bought it with what little money he had left. In fact after that he would have to get a job or something, because now he had none.
Unfortunately there was a hold up at the buying stage, because they for some reason wanted to bother Treaf by asking him if he was a member of the store. He repeatedly said no, and that he would please like to get the book and be over with it.
After a bit of struggling, Treaf had gotten the book, and left the store. He decided that he did not want to waist any time, so he went strait to the guest house and began reading. The first chapter was intriguing; it turned out that ‘Mourgorth,’ (he had not been called that then,) had grown up perfectly normal, and there was much about the details about his early life. At the second chapter it talked about blah blah blah…. For Treaf did not care about this, and decided to skip to a few chapters ahead. After he did this, Treaf realized that he had actually not started at chapter one but actually about the introduction, which was about the Author. After this much wasted time Treaf felt a bit at a loss, but then when he started reading the actual chapter one he was pleased. This started a bit after Mourgorth had turned strange, and it turned out that he had somehow fused himself with a Grath to become human and giant. Treaf did not really believe this, because it was impossible, and for a bit thought that the book was a hoax. For a while he read about the different weapons of Mourgorth, and it was a legend, (which Treaf was already aware of,) that Mourgorth had a sword and a sheath with wet stones in it so that every time he drew his sword it sharpened. Treaf also doubted this.
Finally, at chapter ten,(he had been reading chapter eleven, but then got interested in chapter ten and read that,) it started describing his journeys. He had started off in Dwarveroc, and Treaf could not guess why he had been there in the first place. Then he had traveled through all the land until he had arrived at Southerian, but during the time he had journeyed there, ten years had already passed. The book described him to be a tall man, with a black cape and ‘leather bound boots’ which to Treaf seemed unnecessary to put in, because basically any boot of a traveler is leather.
After he had arrived at Southerian, he had gone with a wizard, and they had traveled together to various places, where the Wizard tried to teach him things. After that Mourgorth and the wizard arrived at Southerian again, and Mourgorth had learned of a substance that was very powerful, currently located in a necklace that the wizard wore. Mourgorth soon wanted the necklace for himself. In the night, he murdered the wizard, and gained the necklace for himself.
There then came a nock on the door, interrupting Treaf’s reading. He said ‘go away,’ but the nocks kept coming. Finally he muttered the words to allow the person to come in, and in surprise he saw that it was one of the maids.
“Lunch is ready,” she said, and Treaf groaned. Lunch. If it could have been stalled a bit he would have been happy, but it wasn’t, so he went down the stairs, feeling dazed.
When he arrived he saw that all of the workers had come in, and that they all looked particularly bad. Their faces were red, and they had sweat running down their skin like crazy. Jeez. It must have gotten really hot out there since I was last outside. Glad that he had not been working, Treaf ate some of his meal, and then started thinking that since he was going to know so much about Mourgorth he should let others read the book. It would probably help out the present state