“The gems were the same as our eyes. Brilliant gold, the most powerful of magic, verdant green the magic of nature, azure blue magic of the sky, of the gods.”
“I met someone with green eyes,” she interrupted him. In his eyes sparked a cinder. “Her name was A’stri.”
For a moment, he kept silent and looked above his head. “Even back then, everyone thought them dead. The Li’Ari; it almost seemed as if we were the last ones.”
Efri questioned their eye color, not grasping his lackluster explanation.
With a chuckle and a long yawn, he explained again, “My people, with blue eyes, are the Li’Ari. Green Beri’a and gold Derai.”
He continued speaking, but Efri’s mind wandered elsewhere. Did she hear, right? Beria? It couldn’t be. Then she remembered a green crystal and a flash of green light.
“I’m sorry,” she interrupted with a raised index finger. “Did you say, Beria?” He nodded. “I am from Beria. A city on a peninsula, on the western coast of the Empire.”
“You are not the same as I, nor it seems you are related. I presume the city was named after them rather than built by them.”
Then, just as he calmed down and explained, she told him of Oren’s green gem. Just then, his face fell. “It cannot be!” he shouted loudly. “If one is found, especially the green, it means Lia can be still out there.”
As his sparkling eyes began to fill with tears, he looked at the light shining through the silk above them. “If I can get back Lia, then I could restore my people, at least not to live a life of servitude.”
“Can I help?” she asked, with little thought. The man, whatever he truly was, seemed sincere and Efri felt sorry for him. “I mean, I would like to help you. Whatever your goal.”
“You would help a complete stranger?” He smiled. “Of course you can help. Travel with me to Sesteria, the Empire’s capital!”
They smiled at each other, neither knowing exactly what to say.
Efri was the one to break the awkward silence just as Ri’on began averting his gaze and looking at the dirty wall beside them. “There is a sea between the two continents. I am not sure whether you know.”
“I do. I remember when it was destroyed.”
“How old are you?” Efri asked laughing. “That happened hundreds of years ago.”
“I am seventeen by the age of this world, but I am also bound to our magic. Unlike most scraps,” he said with a disgusting expression, “I was born free, to an extent. Memories of some of my ancestors are still in my head.”
It would not be her not to ask for him to elaborate, and he not so gladly did. “See after Areon Vi Dera, in his unprecedented madness deprived us of magic, we learned to conserve what we had left. Sadly the humans of the east found us and used us to wage war against the Empire.
“Even what we had left was able to stand against the Vi Dera’s might. Yet they all underestimated how destructive Areon’s new magic was.
” They shattered the continent. While protecting their homeland they doomed the east into an age of eternal light. It’s the residue of their strength, deadly by no fault of theirs.”
While he spoke, even if not explicit, Efri noticed the tremble in his voice, the fear and uncertainty. The words he slurred, the pace of his speech. He was not much different from her, young and very afraid.
“So, you wish to go to Sesteria?” she asked. “I mean not to presume, but what makes you so sure anyone there can help?”
“Because,” he whispered, “this is the light of Vi Dera. Only one of them can return the sky to us. I believe they will show compassion.” Letting out a breath of air he smiled at her, looked into her eyes. “Without you, I cannot go. It is up to you.”
Efri had doubts, many of them. There were Askard and his people, she promised to help them. Yet Ri’on did not oppose joining with them. In truth, she was not doubtful because of Askard, but Ri’on himself. Something made her suspicious about him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, seeing Efri ponder her decision. He grabbed her hand, and then a blue light filled her vision.
When the light left her gaze, she was no longer in the dark alley. She stood on a paved stone road of a great city. Beyond the beautiful brick buildings she saw towers standing taller than any she’s ever seen. Ri’on stood beside her, his look most sorrowful.
“Where are we?” she asked while having no idea what just happened. “Return us back.”
“This is Manre,” he said, “the last great city of the continent’s east, one that for a time rivaled even Sesteria itself. It stood not far from where we are still standing. The towns of the shattered shore were built mainly by Manre’s refugees.”
Efri looked all around herself. Not even in Beria, the streets were that clean, the buildings so magnificent. The city was like those of myths and legends.
“This was the last day sun shined on this land. Hundred thousand of my people were in this city, civilians, mothers, and their children. They had no part to play in that war.
“All knew a conflict with the Empire would see no winner were it to continue. The rulers’ advisors told them as much but they wouldn’t relent. They’d rather see both nations crumble to dust than to see them both prosper as allies. The Emperor wished not for war, but he was given no choice.”
The wind began to pick up. Growing stronger by the minute, the clouds on the sky cleared, and all that was above them was the blue, bright sky.
“He did what he had to. Using the power of his own blood, he destroyed the continent, splitting it in half. It was the only way to end the war. I believe the light and destruction were not his intentions but an unforeseen consequence of the shattering.”
Efri was left speechless, not just by his words but the image before her. It was surreal to see a city so different. Then came a voice, “Where were you?” it demanded to know.
As she turned to see where it came from Ri’on closed his eyes and paid it no mind. It was an older woman shouting at three children, scolding them for being out when they were not meant to.
“Luron, the Emperor at the time, he summoned a weapon as a safeguard, so his own life is not taken. It was a simple wooden staff. On its top was a scarlet gem, a symbol of their impure magic.” His eyes fell to the ground. “By the end, his creation was the end of him.”
“Dad! Dad!” the children shouted again. “Momma told us we can’t play out.” An older man who just arrived began to laugh.
Then through the sky above flew a flash, a bolt of golden light. “It’s starting,” whispered Ri’on. “The imposter’s light.”
The family of five ran out of their beautiful home and looked to the sky. “What’s that?” the children demanded to know. Their parents gave them the only answer they could, a lie.
In their shining blue eyes, Efri saw the truth, they knew what was coming. With the light spreading in the sky above them, they embraced each other as tight as they could.
“Was there no one else on this street?” Efri asked. “Why are they the only ones?”
Ri’on shook his head. “These are my ancestors. I remember what they lived through. For them, there was nobody else. Just family.” He turned to her. “Don’t look. Trust me.”
“I want to.”
The bolt exploded and filled the sky with blinding light. To her and Ri’on, it was just that, a light, but as their eyes were full of gold, their ears heard the most terrifying pain-filled screams.
She saw, even through it, the blue of their eyes shattered just as the continent was. The ground beneath began to move and crumble under the light’s unreal strength.
One by one, the screams were stopping. First, the children, then their parents, still holding their beloved in a tight embrace. Even from afar, screaming came.
Then the towers fell, but it wasn’t just that. The very stones that made up the city began to melt, implode, explode all around. It was utter chaos.
“That’s enough,” said Ri’on and snapped his fingers, returning them
to reality.
Back in front of the slaver’s store under the silk covers of the town, Efri felt tears running her cheeks. “Why?” she asked, barely holding them back.
“So you understand what happened. They all died in vain because of a war nobody wanted,” he answered. “Since then, half of the world has been doomed to chaos. No one came, not a scout nor anyone else. The Empire was so sure they won; they never bothered to check.
“My people were hunted after the continent was destroyed. Some infrastructured remained in the farthest east, that’s where all of us come from now. A breeding ground they have, producing more of us like cattle. I beg you, help me.”
Efri stood there frozen as Ri’on let go of her hand. “How?”
“You were touched by the imperfect, the impure magic of Vi Dera. Similar but so unlike the light shining from the sky. With it, we can help those destined to be slaves. My people’s perpetuity of servitude could come to an end.”
The wind blew, and in the market, several alleys away, someone was loudly arguing over the price of a fish. Some were discussing the nature of bananas. In all that commotion, there was one sound that stood out. A man and a woman screaming at their scrap, their slave.
“I will help you, but there has to be a plan,” she replied. “Crystals. I can charge them, you should then be able to function normally.”
Ri’on happily agreed, yet still had a few things to say. “They are a funny thing, crystals. The way they waste magic is extraordinary. You could supply me with tons, and it wouldn’t be the same as standing beside you.”
Together they set out back to Askard’s house to allow him a say in what will happen next. First, they walked through several back alleys to avoid the busy market and the preying eyes of the people there.
On the way, Ri’on spoke little, not to arouse suspicion, but Efri spoke about Beria and Oren in great detail. It made her feel better after all she saw even the slightest connection to her normal life was most nostalgic.
It seemed Ri’on enjoyed her stories and her company. While approaching the shore and then to calm herself while crossing the rope bridges, she told him of Arry. Even Ri’on laughed at the thought of having children at such an early age, the image of the boy attempting to woo Efri was by far most entertaining.
Askard ran out just as he noticed them through the crack in the house’s door. “What has gotten into you buying a scrap?” he shouted full of anger. “We’ve no use for one of them, and he will just drain all your magic.”
“I can assure you that I will do my best not to drain all of Efri’s magic,” said Ri’on with a smirk.
Seeing Askard freeze and look at him in complete shock earned a chuckle from both of them. “Are you alright?” asked Efri, unable to contain her laughter.
“You talk,” Askard uttered in a whisper. “A scrap talking.”
“We should go inside,” suggested Efri.
They entered the run-down building, and Askard shut the door behind them, making sure no one overheard.
When all was clear, he yet again looked at Ri’on. “How can you talk? This shouldn’t be possible, you are a scrap.”
Ri’on eyed him, his smile fading. “I am Li’Ari,” he said. Of course, Askard inquired and wished to know everything there was, so Ri’on revealed the truth, leaving out some details.
Askard couldn’t believe his ears nor his eyes or any other sense of his body as he shook and went from laughter to biting his fingernails in fear.
After telling him to sit down, Efri attempted to explain, and to her surprise, it worked, and Askard seemed to have understood. Ri’on wished to add something, but just him speaking freaked the older man so much he instead kept silent and sat beside Efri.
“What’s your plan, then?” Askard inquired after they finished their explanation. “Will you go with him?”
“I would,” Efri replied. “Yet neither of us knows where to go or what to do. Our plan is to travel to Sesteria.”
Askard laughed and punched the creaking wooden table with his fist. “Why don’t we continue with my plan? The money we make could buy some scraps.”
“I think I have a better idea,” said Efri. “What’s the smallest crystal there is?”
“About this big.” Askard made a small circle with his index finger and his thumb. “Why?”
“We charge them and give them to Li’Ari all around town. They’ll regain some strength, and then we free them. While they run, they can join us and help us search for the gemstone, Lia.”
Ri’on was on board immediately, but Askard wasn’t and insisted it would be better to buy them.
“We can still sell some of the crystals; in fact, we will have to sell a lof them,” Efri said. “Because if we do and they become popular, which I am sure they will, someone using them for nefarious deeds will raise little suspicion.”
“Buying all of my people would also come quite costly, and not everyone is willing to sell. Offering a too high of a price may raise suspicion,” Ri’on added.
Finally, Askard agreed under one condition - he will not partake in freeing the scraps. Ri’on and Efri gladly accepted.
Then they moved to discuss what would happen after. Askard wished to depart the continent by ship with as many people as possible.
“Why has not any ship ever tried to sail west?” Efri’s question left Askard, looking at the crumbling ceiling.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “What else is there left for us to do?”
Efri shrugged, and both Askard, and she looked to Ri’on. “I do not believe the sea is more dangerous than any other,” he said. “Still obtaining a ship big enough for dozens of people is impossible.”
With a shake of his head Askard argued, “Nonsense, money can buy anything.”
“No, it cannot. The best thing we can do is put together a small ship, the likes that we can obtain here on the shores and then depart with a small group of people for Empire and beg them for help. Tell them what is happening here.”
“You want to beg the people who blew the continent in half?” Askard looked at him in absolute disbelief.
Ri’on smiled. “Yes. I believe they never wished for their actions to do so much evil if so those were the actions of people long dead. Their children, the Vi Dera of today, are our only hope.”
Displeased Askard agreed and decided to inform some of his most loyal friends. He left his mind still at the thought.
The rest of the day, the three of them spent perfecting their plans, discussing every detail. Freeing the scraps would be the easiest part, obtaining a ship and sailing across the by far most difficult one.
Then came the provisions, food, and drink. Nobody knew just how far the other half of the continent was and how long it would take to get there.
One of Askard’s friends told them of a shipyard in a town north of there. From below the floorboards, he pulled a chest full of the local currency. It was not enough for a ship but a start none the less.
The plan was simple. First, Efri starts building crystals with the Vi Dera’s power. Askard will then go the market and sell them, after obtaining a large enough inventory.
While he is selling, Efri will go around town and take note of every scrap for sale or not.
And Ri’on will stay inside, hidden away from everyone. He will make sure their plans are as they should be, he will also count the money they make and come up with a budget to accommodate all of the needs of their escape.
Final was the question of how many people they will take with them. If the scraps they free will not come with the most will be recaptured and sold again, even with enough crystals. So they all will travel with them and serve as a crew for the ship. Ri’on suspected only a dozen, maybe twenty of his people were in the town.
With their plans decided, Askard showed Ri’on into a room beside Efri’s where he would sleep. The Li’Ari was grateful and excited to sleep on a softer bed. Before going, he whispered yet another thank you to Efri, who only smiled in ret
urn.
A Story Worth Telling
With cheer and a bit of alcohol in her veins, Narra ran into her and Oren’s room. Bursting through the door, she woke him from a night of rest. With drowsy eyes, he looked to her. “What in the gods’ name are you doing?” he asked, getting up from the bed.
“Look,” she shouted and threw a coin to him. It felt so very strange in her hands, so clean and cold, unlike the dirty silvers. “You wouldn’t believe what happened.”
Oren inspected the coin and looked at it from all angles. “Is this money? Never seen a black and blue copper before.”
“Ae-ria. Do you honestly not know our currency?” He shrugged and shook his head. With an amused sigh, Narra went on to explain, “The three metal, copper, silver and gold are common for smaller purchases but not the rest. Iria is technically the official currency of the Empire.
“There’s five of them, all made from a metal found north of Sesteria, inestri. Sesteria was a powerful city-state and then a kingdom even before Areon’s ascension. That metal is why.”
Oren laughed. “How is it any different from gold?”
“It’s magic. Impossible to fake, to destroy. You can split it in four as well.”
“How much is it then? In common currency terms.”
“Each of these is a little bit more than a gold. The exact value is mandated by the regional government. I believe in Camirna, they are worth a bit more.” She jumped on the bed next to him and showed the coin purse. “We can set out for Istra come morning. This much can buy us a small house or allow us to take a loan for one in the center of the city!” So much she wished to do just that. She wouldn’t say, Oren was not as enthused, but she would have liked to buy a house and live there with him.
“Where did you get this?” Oren asked with a painfilled smile, looking at the imperial phoenix sewn into the dark leather.
“You won’t believe it. The younger prince, Aelir Vi Dera, for some reason he was here. Gave it to me!” She couldn’t contain the happiness in her voice, it jumped up and down like that of a child getting its first horse.
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