“That's incredible.”
“Yeah I guess, but I have limitations. I can only influence a certain number of people and for a certain length of time, otherwise it hurts me.” As he said this he reached up and rubbed his temples, as if remembering the pain it had caused him.
“I was lucky you were on your way to visit your friend, and that you saw me being taken into the village. Otherwise, I never would have escaped. ”
He cleared his throat. “It was nothing, really.”
Our talking ceased then and for many hours I just watched the quiet forest. The white snow covered every inch of ground, never ending it seemed. It wasn’t until hours later that I saw a change in the path. The trees narrowed up ahead, and we emerged into a large clearing where we were met with a small lake.
The top of the water was blurred with billowing steam, causing a foggy sheet to lie gently over the top of the water. Vast black cliffs encased the lake. There was nowhere to go. The narrow lagoon seemed to be a dead end.
Mid dismounted and helped me gently slide off the bear’s back. He led Ghost over to several trees, where the bear settled beneath them onto his side and seemed content waiting there for us.
“Where are we going?” I asked, as he led me to the edge of the lagoon.
For a moment it seemed only fog occupied the waters, but when I squinted my eyes, I could see a small fishing boat hidden beneath the cloudy steam, laying on the edge of the shore.
“We’re going to Eslecaster, a city in Severesi.”
“How are we going to get there?”
Mid reached down and wrapped his hands around the edge of the boat. With a grunt he pushed it out of the mud that was holding it captive, creating a loud sucking noise. He put one foot in the boat, stopping it from floating away and then stretched his hand out to me, giving me a lopsided smile.
“Just trust me, please?”
“That’s a lot to ask considering we just met,” I pointed out. His hand stayed outstretched, determined for me to take it.
“Do you really have another choice?” he asked knowingly.
I pursed my lips, irritated that he was right. I didn't have another choice. Carefully I reached out and placed my hand into his. He carefully guided me to one of the boats flimsy plywood seats while he picked up a similarly ragged wooden paddle.
Mid took his place casually at the front of the boat and began rowing through the steaming water. I could see nothing through the fog and didn’t know how he knew where we were going.
“Why is the water so warm?”
“There are several hot springs in these mountains. Eslecaster is one of the liveliest, industrial cities in Severesi due to its seclusion and surplus of water.”
“How far is the Severesi Court?”
“It's about a day’s journey from here.”
Up ahead the fog began to clear, and I could finally see about five feet in front of us. Still confused on where we were going and how we'd make it past the large cliffs, I watched intently ahead.
Two large statues emerged from the fog, each made of white opal stone. As we got closer, I realized they were winged horses. They towered over us, wings spanned wide. They stood guard to the entrance into a tunnel. The tunnel was pitch black and looked to go directly underneath the cliffs.
“We aren’t going in there are we?” My voice sounded unnerved, and I heard Mid chuckle.
“Just close your eyes.”
I watched us glide underneath the tunnel entrance and into the blackness and proceeded to shut my eyes as he ordered. I could feel the thick moist air nearly swallowing me, and I forced myself to breathe slowly. For several long minutes nothing was heard other than the swishing of the paddle in the water and the creaking of the boat.
“Okay, you can open them now.”
I slowly allowed myself to open my eyes and gasped aloud at what I saw.
The city was encased in the walls of the black cliffs we’d just emerged from beneath and it was a breathtaking scene. Steaming water gushed from the edges of the ebony cliffs in elegant waterfalls. Rivers ran through the city in the place of streets; people traveled about busily in boats heading in every direction. I couldn’t help but gaze in amazement.
The thrum of the waterfalls caused a gentle reverberation to pulse against my ears. The buildings climbed the cliffs that were suddenly bursting with foliage. The houses were stacked atop one another, making for an elegant staircase of architecture. Opal stone bridges crossed the giant waters that slithered in the place of streets. The snow was no longer anywhere to be seen, a tropical misty atmosphere replacing the bitter cold.
We floated down the river into the heart of the city. The people in boats waved to one another as we passed, and those that were not on the water were working in the markets that lined the edges of the river. Fish carts and fruit stands were busy selling to customers, and I noticed they all wore white cloaks, a fresh sight from the red I’d been so accustomed to.
We drifted through the streets and under bridges until we reached a dock that Mid pulled up next to. He helped me carefully step out beside him.
“Something else isn't it?” He grinned widely, and I couldn't help but smile back.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I breathed, excitement beating in my chest.
He tied the boat to the cleat on the dock and then led me up a set of stairs away from the boat station to the main boardwalk. We strolled through the markets and past many vendors, the entire way my eyes wide, trying to take it all in. Several people smiled in my direction, eyeing the brown cloak around my shoulders.
“Is Severesi friendly with Ethydon?”
“As of right now, yes. The two have had no contentions, but if they ally with Obscurum, there's no telling what will happen.”
I was thinking on his words when Mid abruptly stopped at one particular booth in the market. I watched curiously as he began talking to a man selling some sort of fried fish. He reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out several coins to pay the man.
“One Gourami please,” Mid requested.
The smell of the ocean wafted from an open fire where the cook was frying his fish. His dark hair was pulled back from his face, sweat beading on his brow. With a greasy hand, the cook handed Mid a stick skewered with one of the tropical fish. I looked with wide eyes, amazed–and a little alarmed– that it was the whole fish.
“You’re not going to eat that are you?” I asked in disbelief. In response he took a big bite out of the side of the sea creature. I recoiled in disgust and had to close my eyes as he began chewing the soft white flesh.
“It's good. Here try it.” He leaned the fish in close to my face and I quickly shook my head.
“No way. Keep that slimy thing away from me,” I squeaked.
He chuckled and took another bite, not caring that I was obviously squirming.
Keeping myself several feet away from him while he finished his snack, we crossed a bridge over to another set of streets. It was quieter, just the two of us it seemed, except for a couple lone passing civilians.
We turned at a dainty bakery on the corner selling fresh bread, into a barren alleyway. The road was long, and at the very end, there was a lone door pressed beneath a porch overhang. It looked to barely be standing, molding away from the humidity, and shrouded in overgrown ivy. The door was also very old. The handle looked rusted and immovable.
“Are we going in there?” I asked hesitantly.
Mid didn’t respond, instead he grabbed the handle with both hands, pressed his shoulder into the door and heaved it open with a loud scraping creak.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I mumbled sarcastically under my breath.
The door revealed a small room with a large box crate. It had metal bars on each of the four corners attached to a pulley-like system. The crate was barely big enough to hold two people. Mid stepped into the box and gestured for me to come to him. I tenderly stepped inside, a little afraid of the frail-looking contraption. I loo
ked up and found an empty abyss going up farther than I could see. Mid grasped onto a lever on the side of the crate and began turning it. With each twist, the crate moved up about a foot.
We moved up the shaft, the crate creaking with every turn of the lever. The walls were thin, and I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. I forced myself to breathe slowly and remain calm. After what seemed like forever, a small splinter of light could be seen above, and soon the crate came to a rattling stop. I gripped the edges of the crate to keep myself from falling, my knuckles turning white.
We came upon another door, and Mid with a swift kick of his boot, sent it swinging open. He jumped out and extended his hand to me. I took it and with my heart beating wildly in my chest, quickly abandoned the rickety crate.
“Who in spirits name are you friends with?” I asked, still trying to catch my breath.
He smirked and gestured behind him. “You’re about to find out.”
We had arrived at a sort of outlook point. We were up high, pressed into the mountainside now, away from the rivers and bustling city. There was a terrace leading to a small house that almost looked to be part of the black cliffside. It had a delicately rounded front door set between two lanterns. I could barely see the windows beneath the foliage that nearly consumed the home. A birdcage sat outside the front door beside a lonely rocking chair. Two beautiful bluebirds with red-tipped wings were perched inside. Both began singing hello to us as we neared.
Mid walked up to the door and gave it a lively knock.
“Sydidel! Syd, are you home?” He called his friend’s name and knocked several more times. When no one answered, he reached for the handle and walked into the house. I followed after him nervously, unsure what else to do, and let the door shut behind me.
There was a fire going and an old sofa sitting empty and vacant on a ragged green rug. Mid gestured for me to accompany him into the kitchen and I unthinkingly followed.
EIGHT
“Are you sure we are supposed to be here?” I whispered, noticing that the house was unusually quiet. Mid didn’t answer.
We stepped into the kitchen and I was shocked to see the entire place filled with plants. Hanging down from the ceiling in pots and baskets, were heaps of roots and flowers blooming in every direction. The table was covered in chopped herbs and bowls filled with unknown substances. I sniffed, my nose wrinkling at the strong earthy aroma. Nothing was heard for a while, and I was deeply absorbed in the odd kitchen when a small crash was heard, followed by someone grumbling.
“I told you I don’t have your weasley old cat, Mrs. Yardley. If you're here to search my closet again I swear. . .” An old man emerged from down the hallway, cursing as he walked through a thick drape of vines that were growing in the doorway. He carried a stack of bowls that he balanced unsteadily. A furry black dog followed at his heels.
The man had a shiny bald head with a couple of wispy white strands of hair, and his face held the faint sight of wrinkles. He was small and hunched over a little. The cloak on his shoulders seemed to drown him. It was slightly shocking to see his signs of aging; it could only mean he was several hundred years old. Considering how slowly our kind age, it was a definite sign of his seniority.
Mid rushed to the man’s side and began helping him with the bowls. Once they were set safely on the cluttered table, the old man wiped his hands on his alabaster cloak and then turned to look at Mid. He had on a pair of spectacles, his green eyes squinting in confusion.
“Mid, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Ethydon?”
Mid laid a gentle hand on the old man’s shoulder and then gestured to me standing beside him.
“Syd, I’d like you to meet Ehren.”
The black dog barked and came padding over to me. He sniffed me and then nudged my hand until I petted him. He looked to be some sort of wolf, but I tried not to think too much about that thought.
“Ehren?” The man’s eyes, that looked dazed and unfocused, scanned the room frantically. Mid put his hand on the man’s cheek to calm him then repeated himself.
“Syd, this is my friend. Her name is Ehren.”
The old man squinted some more, and then shuffled to stand in front of me. He leaned in close so our faces were mere inches apart. I held my breath, afraid that somehow this old man might recognize me, and uncomfortable with our proximity.
“Ehren,” he whispered. He lifted a frail hand and stroked a stray strand of hair by my face. “Hmmm. . .strong girl, I see. Your heart is mighty.”
I looked over at Mid, unsure what the man was talking about.
“Ehren, this is Sydidel,” Mid explained. I couldn't help but feel awkward as Sydidel, still caught in a daze, continued to stare at me with his distant green eyes.
“What are you doing here, Mid?” Sydidel asked. He finally released me from his penetrating gaze and stepped away. The black wolf-dog followed him, curling up on a matted old rug while Sydidel began to busy himself with objects on his table.
“I need your help,” Mid said earnestly.
Sydidel quickly turned on Mid with an irritated glare. “I am busy, Mid, I cannot help you tonight.”
“What could you possibly be busy with at this hour?”
The old man grumbled again. “The spirits are angry, Mid. There's a lot to prepare for.”
“That's exactly why I’m here. I need to know more about the curse.”
Sydidel’s hands instantly stopped fiddling with the items on the table.
“Please,” Mid pleaded with him again.
“The kingdoms and their contentions, will lead to the curse. The very mountains and air are telling us!” The man waved his hands frantically around his head. I could tell that Mid’s pleading had worked. The man began talking, as if a dam had broken, spilling out information. “You must read the ancient book, find the artifacts of the ancient kings, and bring them back together.”
“Where can I find these artifacts? I don’t know where to begin, please.”
“The Ethirical knows all things. Read the story of the kings, understand their lives, and you will understand their hidden treasures.”
Mid seemed irritated with the riddles the old man was telling him. He huffed an aggravated breath and ran a hand through his tousled hair.
“You are an impatient young man. You must search harder, read deeper.”
I knew of the Ethirical, had heard of people believing in its passages, but never truly studied it. It wasn’t something my tutors educated me on. In the castle it had become something of a myth it seemed.
“Is it true that if the artifacts get into Obscurum hands, they will conquer the realm?” Mid asked. Sydidel with a downtrodden expression on his face reached out and gripped Mid’s shoulder.
“If the artifacts fall into the wrong hands, the lands will be driven by a demon, and all good will perish.”
“You can’t tell me when the curse will happen can you?”
“The moon will turn to blood, fire will flood the lands, and many lives will be lost.”
“There is no stopping it then,” Mid said defeatedly.
Sydidel shook his head gently. “I’m afraid not.”
Mid sat down at one of the kitchen chairs, and Sydidel returned to his rummaging. He began cooking up something and several minutes later he handed both of us a steaming cup of warm leafy smelling tea. It was silent as we sipped our beverages.
“May we stay here tonight, Syd?” Mid asked. The disappointment was obvious in his voice and he seemed to be done asking questions.
Sydidel nodded and gestured toward the hallway. “You are free to stay.”
We were led through the small cottage to a little bedroom where a dainty cot took up the majority of the square room. The walls were painted a soft beige, while a checkered brown and white quilt hugged the little bed. Sydidel didn’t say much, just retrieved an extra set of blankets from a closet, handed them to Mid then gave me a small smile on the way out.
Mid started setting up
a makeshift bed on the floor, and I took a seat on the edge of the cot.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said simply.
There was an uncomfortable silence between us as he spread his blankets out on the ragged carpet. When he finished he slipped beneath the covers and turned his back to me.
It was silent as I carefully climbed onto the bed and blew out the candle on the nightstand. The room went utterly dark, and the only sound in the room was our breathing. The exhaustion from the day's journey finally took over and before I could even begin to realize it, I fell asleep.
SOMETIME IN THE NIGHT, I was startled awake from a nightmare. Unsure where I was and worried I was back in the Obscurum camp, I panicked. Grasping the quilt in my hands, I gasped aloud and sat upright in bed. My heart was beating frantically, and it took several minutes for me to calm down and remember I had escaped.
Knowing I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep right away with the images of Obsidian still in my head, I left the bedroom and decided to get some fresh air.
Escaping out the front door onto the terrace, blanket in the tow, I walked over to the balcony that looked out over the city. To my surprise someone else was already there, back turned to me.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I asked, while resting my elbows casually on the stone railing.
“No, too much on my mind.” Mid was standing on the terrace, his brow furrowed and his shoulders slumped. “What about you? What’s your excuse?”
“Can’t sleep very well after being in that Obscurum camp,” I said honestly.
“I see.” He sounded distracted.
“Mid, do you really believe in a curse?” It came out before I could stop myself. I was curious after hearing him talk with Sydidel.
He turned toward me, his emerald-scarlet eyes meeting mine. A soft breeze picked up, and I could smell the scent of pine trees waft into the air.
“Do you not?”
“I guess I’ve never really been raised to believe in the Ethirical,” I admitted to him.
Granted (Granted Series Book 1) Page 6