The oasis offered just enough for Alamor’s company to refill the water hides given to them by the Onda. A handful of trees struggled to stand along the banks of the dried up pond, their trunks long withered, and their branches bereft of any leaves or buds. The bark about their barren frames was still fairly thick, however. Alamor and the others hewed several of the fattest limbs, and used the wood to start a fire in their campsite. The flames brought welcome warmth that they had not experienced at night in several days. Before, they simply had to endure the long, chill hours and the icy gales that raced across the desert when darkness fell.
They ate some of the rations that the Onda had provided them for their trip. The more delectable foods that they had eaten while staying at Onda Reef—various fish, clams, shellfish—would spoil during a lengthy journey, especially through an environment as extreme as the Arid Reaches. They were gifted primarily with kelp and soft coral that the Onda had farmed into edible foods over the ages. Normally, such things pulled from the ocean would be unsafe for a human or a Bachu to eat. Most would not even be very nutritious for the Onda, but the ocean-dwelling reptiles cultivated many different aquatic plants and coral within the freshwater pools and streams around Onda Reef to make them suitable for consumption. By transitioning the food sources from the salty ocean waters to the mineral-rich soil and waters on their island, the Onda created crops that could be eaten by any creature, and contained a number of nutrients that strengthened the body.
The rations’ tastes to a human, or a Bachu, were bland at best. The kelp’s consistency was fairly close to that of lettuce. The soft coral was not so accurately named, appearing and tasting like sticks of dry, stiff bread. Still, these food items could stay fresh for days on end, and provided substantial energy with their potent nutrients. Alamor and his companions were merely thankful to have any food to fill their stomachs. They had found almost nothing to eat within the desert during their journey. If not for the Onda’s generous amenities, they could have starved just days into their trek.
Tiroku, Tridian, and Rawner soon fell asleep after their light supper. In addition to the roaring fire nearby, they stayed warm with some of the belongings they already had with them. Tridian wrapped himself tightly in his long, purple coat, while Tiroku and Rawner covered themselves with the ray hide sacks that Hinton and Pauma wore earlier. The scale-side of the sacks stayed warm long after they spent hours exposed to the desert’s bright sunlight, acting like a hot blanket for Tiroku and Rawner to slumber beneath.
Alamor offered to spend the first half of the night taking watch over their campsite. He sat by the campfire while the others slept, wrapped in his silvery cape and Tiroku’s evergreen cloak as he stared into the flames.
The Bachus kept him company, with Hinton staying awake to tinker with some of his remaining blast orbs. Pauma sat by his side, diligently assisting her husband where she could. According to Hinton, he had used up well over half of the blast orbs that he brought with him from the Bachu Caverns—including his original satchel when he tossed it at Saphos—and he was keen on making sure that he did not run out before the end of their journey. As he sat near the campfire, he worked carefully to displace some of the blast orbs’ ignidust into empty casings. By his own admission, this would temper the explosions from his remaining blast orbs, but it at least granted Hinton more of the unique weapons to carry with him for the remainder of their quest.
Alamor could only marvel at the Bachus as he watched them through the corner of his eye. Even after the exhausting trek that day, Hinton and Pauma did not appear to be the least bit tired. If anything, they were more lively than they were at any other time. The cooler nights always refreshed the two, seemingly injecting them with a burst of energy. Tonight, it proved to rejuvenate them so much that they indulged in the meticulous labor surrounding Hinton’s blast orbs without so much as a yawn.
They actually seemed to be more concerned with Alamor as their work went on. “Are you sure you’re not cold over there, lad?” Hinton asked at one point, taking a moment to look up from the blast orb that he deconstructed.
Alamor smiled. “Trust me, I’m fine. This fire is keeping me plenty warm.”
“Just be careful over there,” Pauma added. “You’re sitting awfully close. We don’t need those capes you’re wearing to catch a spark and go up in flames.”
A grin stretched across Alamor’s face as he looked over at the Bachus. “If anyone should be careful about getting too close to the fire, it should be those of us holding a bunch of bombs in their hands.”
Both Hinton and Pauma immediately threw their heads back and laughed. They quickly quieted themselves a moment later when they remembered that the rest of their group slept just a few yards away from them. But they could not keep every last giggle from escaping their lips. “You got a good point there, lad, I’ll give you that one,” Pauma replied. As her laughter died, she looked into the blazing campfire. “I’ll tell you, though, it sure is nice to have this at night, again. I don’t think I realized until now how much I missed having a good, warm fire when the sun goes down.”
“I thought you two liked the cold nights out here, though?”
“We do, but it’s the dark that we don’t enjoy,” Hinton clarified. “Things are always a lot better when you’re not surrounded by shadow in every direction that you look, I say.”
“That sounds pretty ironic coming from two creatures who live underground.”
The grin across Hinton’s snout indicated that he understood Alamor’s good-natured joke. “That’s why we have all of those lanterns hanging from the cavern ceilings! Without them, those halls would be blacker than the night out here. We probably wouldn’t spend two minutes inside!”
“So, what’s the perfect kind of weather for a Bachu, then? A sunny day in the middle of winter?”
Alamor had meant for his comment to be another joke more than anything, but Hinton and Pauma both shared a glance, as if they silently consulted with one another. Eventually, both Bachus nodded.
“Yep, that sounds about right to me!” Pauma answered. “We Bachus love the snow. It barely even feels cold, what with all of our fur. Winter is one of the few times of the year that we even consider romping about Sleekleaf Forest away from our caverns.”
“Of course, the ground is a different story—that gets cold in a real hurry, especially our tunnels,” Hinton added. “Our caverns would probably be freezing during the winter, but luckily we got our forges to warm up the place!”
Alamor smiled as he thought back to the time where Hinton led him and his other friends straight into the sweltering forges of the Bachu Caverns after escaping the pack of Narogas. “I remember just how hot those forges were. It still amazes me how you Bachus could work in there without passing out, and it’s not as if you had any ray hide from the Onda to keep you cooler. I’m getting too warm just sitting next to this fire right now.” Alamor unwrapped his cape and Tiroku’s cloak from his body and set them aside. Although he only wore a sleeveless undershirt and his armored leggings, he felt more comfortable beside the roaring campfire.
“Yikes!” Hinton suddenly blurted. “What’s that on your arm, lad?”
Alamor was briefly alarmed by the Bachu’s apparent dismay, but when he glanced down at his arm, he immediately knew what Hinton asked about—the long scar running from his shoulder down to his elbow. “It’s just a scar,” Alamor answered, deliberately trying to sound unconcerned with it. “I’ve had it for over a year now, but the wound healed well enough.”
Pauma’s eyes narrowed as she stared across the campsite, seemingly studying the faded wound. “Looks like it was originally a nasty cut you had there. What’d you ever get that from?”
She was left waiting for a response. It was almost as if time came to a standstill for Alamor as he sat there in silence, pondering what answer he would give Pauma. He had lost track a long while ago of how many peopled asked him about the origin of his scar, as well as the number of different stories he cam
e up with explaining how he got it. Sometimes, he told people that it had been from a training session that got out of hand at the Dawnwatch’s Spirit Shrine. Other times, he told them that he fell during a march across the countryside. He could easily tell the Bachus one of those phony accounts and never return to the subject with them again.
But for the first time that he could remember, and for reasons he could not explain, Alamor was not afraid to tell the truth. It was as if at some point during his journey for the Radia, his humiliation over the incident that injured him had suddenly vanished. He felt no reluctance in telling Hinton and Pauma the frightening story that he had kept secret for more than a year.
Alamor decided right at that very moment that it was finally time to stop lying about how he got his scar.
“It happened shortly after I returned to Geldiar, when I quit my training to become a Spiritcaster,” he finally answered. “I went out by myself one day into the Plains of Oston and found a plateau with a very steep cliff face. It must have been about fifty feet tall, maybe taller. I took off my armor, set down my sword and shield, and started climbing. I climbed, and I climbed, and I climbed. I was maybe halfway up when I hesitated, and I lost my grip. I slid down along the cliff face, and my arm caught some jagged rock as I was falling. It tore me open right away. Things could have been a lot worse, though, if I hadn’t managed to catch hold before I fell too far. My arm hurt pretty bad, and the cut was bleeding a lot, but I eventually managed to lower myself back down to the ground safely.”
“That all sounds like a pretty dangerous stunt on your part,” Hinton said, his voice carrying his disapproval. “What in stone and soil’s name were you trying to do making a climb like that?”
Alamor never took his blank eyes off the dancing flames before him. “I was planning to jump from the top.”
He could hear the blast orbs fall out of the Bachus’ paws and into the sand. Although he did not turn to look at Hinton and Pauma, Alamor could imagine the appalled expressions that must have taken over their faces.
“Oh, lad…why would you ever do such a thing?” Pauma asked, tremendous concern in her words.
“I wanted to escape all of the pain in my life at that time,” Alamor answered. “I felt so useless back then, like I didn’t offer anything worthwhile to this world anymore. I abandoned my training to become a King’s Fang to try and become a Spiritcaster, because I was so sure that I could control my magic. When I failed, I felt as if I made the biggest mistake of life, and I had no idea how I could correct it. Of course, I went on to make far greater mistakes soon after that…”
Through the corner of his eye, Alamor noticed Hinton and Pauma slowly approach him. When they settled at his side, he could see the saddened looks in their eyes.
“But you must have had all of your friends and family supporting you back then, right?” Hinton asked. “I mean, I see it now—you’ve got lots of great pals. They must have tried to help you when you were down, didn’t they?”
“Many of them did, but I was so lost that I couldn’t recognize it or appreciate it,” Alamor answered. “Tiroku wanted me to stay with him and continue to train with the Dawnwatch, because he always knew that I could one day achieve mastery over my Serenity, but I didn’t believe him, and I didn’t believe in myself.” Alamor lifted his gaze from the fire and pointed it to star-laden sky high above the desert. “Besides that, I was so hurt by my parents’ death that I could hardly focus on anything else.”
A quiet gasp escaped Pauma. “Oh, dear, we never knew that your mom and dad weren’t alive anymore.” She paused, more of what seemed to be hesitation on her part before speaking again. “Do you mind if I ask what happened to them?”
“They died while I was away training to become a Spiritcaster,” Alamor explained. “According to the other townsfolk where I lived, there was a powerful storm that moved across the countryside one day, and it rained so much that it made a nearby river flood and turn into violent rapids. There were families that lived near that river, and some people from my town, including my parents, went to go help them flee the area. A few children nearly got swept up by the river, so my parents dove into the water to save them. The children got out safe. My parents…they were swept away and never made it out. They were heroes; but they never got to see me accomplish anything. I never even got to say goodbye to them.”
As another hush fell over their conversation, Hinton and Pauma looked at one another, silently debating whether they should ask the next question that was clearly both on their minds. It was Hinton who eventually worked up the nerve to say it. “Is all of this what made you and the Princess keep from talking to each other for a while?”
Alamor was briefly surprised by the question, as he had never told the Bachus about the time he was apart from Raissa. However, he soon came to the realization of how they must have known. “Yes. Raissa told you about that when you talked to her after our fight on the Balcryst, didn’t she?”
The Bachus replied with silent nods. They seemed to be more upset by knowing that unfortunate part of Alamor’s past than any other.
Alamor let out a deep sigh as his eyes fell to the sandy ground. “Raissa was the only reason that I attempted to become a Spiritcaster, in the first place. She was by far the most encouraging and the most supportive person that I knew, and she was absolutely certain that I would be able to accomplish it. Honestly, I only believed that I could do it because she believed that I could do it. I wanted more than anything in the world to make her proud…so when I failed at the Spirit Shrine, I felt like I let her down.”
Alamor stopped and realized that what he was about to say next was something else that he concealed for the longest time—the answer that he was too afraid to tell Raissa a few weeks ago in Caldeya when she asked him why he never tried to reconnect with her while they were apart.
“There was also a part of me that was angry with her. I was so disappointed with what happened at the Spirit Shrine, so upset that I failed, that I desperately looked for an excuse other than my own failings. So I cast blame on others, and one of those people was Raissa. I blamed her for getting my hopes up, as if she had encouraged me to go after a goal that I never truly had a chance of realizing. I had those thoughts for a while, until I came that close to killing myself. After that, I finally began to think straight again. I understood how foolish my anger at Raissa was. I was so ashamed of myself for it, and the attempt to end my life, that I didn’t feel like I deserved to see her again.”
Alamor glanced over at the Bachus when he heard what he was sure was Pauma sniffling. He could see that she was holding back tears, but Pauma also managed a stern look on her face. “Well, I hope you understand now to never do something like that again,” she said, pointing a stiff finger at him as her strong voice occasionally cracked. “I don’t mean to yell at you after talking about all of those sad memories, but I just don’t want to ever hear you think that taking your life is the answer to anything. It never is! You got too many duties to see to in this world, and more importantly, too many wonderful people that you mean a whole lot to!”
Alamor smiled at Pauma. He did not think of her words so much as a scolding, but as both a determined attempt on her part to pass on a vital piece of wisdom, as well as a show of love and appreciation for him.
In a way, he felt like it was his mother trying to speak through Pauma.
“You don’t have to worry, I’m never going to try that again,” Alamor assured her. “I decided on that the very moment I caught myself after I almost fell off of that plateau. I’ll never forget how terrified I was when I realized what I had almost done. Once I got back down to the ground and did my best to treat the cut on my arm, I just laid there for hours, trying to make sense of what happened. I couldn’t believe how I came that close to ending my own life. The realization hit me all at once how much I would have been throwing away, and I knew that no matter how miserable I might be, it would never be worth it to abandon my future altogether.”
Most of the austerity had faded from Pauma’s features by then. She gave Alamor several nods of approval as she wiped away her remaining tears. “Well good, I’m darn glad to hear that,” she said, piecing together her composure. “I never want to see a young’n like you thinking that you got nothing to live for. There’s always something to be thankful about, I say, and you never know what great thing life might have for you around the corner, next!”
“I agree,” Alamor said. “I’ve come to understand that better than anyone over the last few weeks. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the fact that none of this would be happening if that jump off the plateau had actually ended how I originally wanted. I wouldn’t have reconnected with Raissa, I wouldn’t have learned to control my Serenity, and I wouldn’t be on this mission to save the entire kingdom, to fulfill the Legend of Light. I obviously had something very important destined for me; I’m glad I didn’t miss it.”
Hinton smiled widely as he patted Alamor on the shoulder, making what seemed like a deliberate note to touch the one without the scar. “That’s my boy! You definitely got what it takes to be a hero, and I say this part with all honesty—I’m sure honored to be along on this journey to see it happen.”
Alamor took Hinton’s paw in a brotherly, gracious clasp. “And I’m honored that you both decided to come with us. I can’t thank you two enough for all that you’ve done, even just for Raissa and I.”
A Gleaming Path Page 25