“They said, when they found me, lost in the woods without even knowing my name, I was clutching a letter that insisted I reach the north when I was ready, and warned whoever found me that one day people might come looking for me. People with bad intentions.
“With no time to explain completely, Father said he would fill me in on the rest as we traveled. He never got that chance. They told me to hide and sent me into the woods before them, saying that they would catch up. They took an old blanket from our nursing sow and covered me with it to mask my scent. It smelled terrible, but that was the point—I just couldn’t smell like me.
“I ran into the woods, but stayed within sight of the house, hiding behind a thick tree stump. That was when they came out of the woods. A pack of them. There were nearly twenty—I couldn’t count them all—and they caught my parents as they were trying to run away. They dragged them into the house and—” She choked for a second there. Her words couldn’t come out. She cleared her throat but still couldn’t speak. From her bag, she drew a water skin that she had filled up in the creek the day before and took a long drink. Her voice steady again, she continued.
“They dragged them inside and locked the doors. From the barn, they took straw and lined the outside of the house. I could hear my parents screaming, I saw my mother try to jump out of a window, but she was shot with an arrow from one of their archers... I saw another canid outside with a blanket from my bed. They were passing it around, inhaling deeply. I don’t know why I remember that detail, it just sticks out in my mind so vividly... because that was what I noticed right before they lit the straw.
“It caught quickly and spread to surround the house. The smoke was so thick that it masked the windows and kept me from seeing them anymore. Now that I think about it, I’m glad it did. Because I would have watched my parents as they were burned alive.”
Laderic had known she was hiding something before, but he didn’t expect that, and he didn’t expect how eerily close their fates had been. He was more than shocked, staring at her with his mouth agape. But she wasn’t done.
“I came from the woods then, as the fire still raged, and it was like something was controlling my body. I was so angry… They saw me coming, but they were too late. Excited at first, they pointed and howled. Some began racing toward me, their red eyes wide and crazed looking. The magic flowed from inside me as it never had before, and bursts of white light shone from my fingertips, piercing their chests, ripping them apart…”
Alleria’s eyes glazed as she recalled that moment, detached almost. It was frightening. She continued, monotonous. “I killed them. I killed them as they ran toward me. I killed them as they ran away. I would say nearly half of them escaped, and the other half…” She shook her head as if she remembered where she was. “Sorry, I always feel lost when I think about it...”
“It’s okay,” muttered Laderic, concerned. He, too, had done some terrible things. He knew how she felt as she recounted the story. He and Midiga made eye contact, sharing the same thoughts. Alleria seemed not to notice.
“After, it felt as though life had left my body. I could no longer stand, and I blacked out. When I came to, the sun had just set, and I was surrounded by our animals.” She smiled, the tears finally coming to her eyes, her words laced with sobs. “I could tell they knew something terrible had happened. They’d kept my body hidden while I was passed out. I managed to stand and looked toward where my house had been—but it was leveled. Just like you said.” She said the last sentence as a whisper. She looked Laderic in the eye, seeing through them, into his very soul. “Just ashes.”
She said it so quietly that the wind took the words away. But Laderic knew—he knew before the words even came from her lips. Slowly, during her tale, the group had stopped walking, and Emery and Reia had both turned to listen as well. The sky was now overcast, and the wind had picked up, filling the deathly silence. Alleria was staring at the ground, viciously wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said through her tears. “I don’t know why I told you. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Laderic said, her words nearly breaking him. He could feel her pain in his chest. It was his pain. “Don’t be sorry.” He moved forward, embraced her, and felt her body tremble with silent sobs. He held her while she cried. He held her like he wished someone had held him. The others averted their eyes with mournful reverence. Slowly, after a while, her tremors began to subside. The wind blew again, scattering leaves and dust around them. When he felt it was right, he released her.
She took a step back, breathing deeply. “Sorry, everyone,” she said, a faint smile drawn on her face. They each responded in a chorus of their own versions of Laderic’s response—not wanting her to apologize for opening up.
Reia padded over to Alleria and stood on her back legs, pawing at the elf’s waist. Alleria picked her up, hugging the kitsune tightly, breathing in the calming scent of her fur. “I love you, you know,” said the kitsune softly. If Alleria hadn’t already run out of tears, surely she would have started crying tears of joy at that moment.
“We all care about you, you need to know that,” said Midiga firmly. She put her arm around Alleria’s shoulders as they started walking again. “Please, don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to me. We are a family now if only temporary.”
“Or longer,” chimed in Emery, floating beside them. Discovering Alleria’s true identity as an elf hadn’t shocked her in the slightest.
“Well, not much longer for you,” Laderic interjected. He pointed up the path. “We’ll be reaching Charandall tomorrow.”
“Yeah…” said the fae slowly. For a reason she couldn’t quite place, she was actually dreading arriving at Charandall. Which had never happened before. Normally, arriving in Charandall at the start of the summer made her feel happier than anything else in the Far Land. But, at that moment, after all that had happened just in the last few days… she just didn’t know how to feel anymore. After all, she already felt so close to everyone in the group. They were like her… friends. The first friends she had made in many years. Even Laderic, which shocked her even more.
And Alleria—she couldn’t stop seeing her sister in the elf’s every move. She already felt so protective of her, and she hadn’t felt that way about anyone since Wyndi was killed.
“Emery, are you okay?” called Midiga. Emery looked up, realizing she had drifted behind the rest of them. She picked up her pace, beating her wings faster.
“Yeah!” she said, catching up to them. “Just… thinking.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Alleria, in a better mood since they’d started walking again. The sun had dried the tears on her face.
“I just—” They were listening expectantly. “Well, how long will you guys be in Strita?”
“We’re just there to get some information,” said Laderic. The wind blew a leaf into his face, and he brushed it off, annoyed. “We shouldn’t be there for more than a day. We’ll probably stay with Mavark for a night just to get some solid rest before we set off in whatever direction he points us.” He eyed her, knowingly. “Why?
“I was just thinking, maybe I might, I could, I guess—I’ll take you the rest of the way to Strita?” she stammered. She kept going, talking quickly. “I just, I know the woods in the area pretty well, and we’ve already had some unpleasant surprises, and you might need to be healed again. Who knows what could happen?” She was blushing, embarrassed that she was asking to tag along, but her determination allowed her to hold her ground.
Laderic shrugged, indifferent. “If you want to. I’m fine carrying your bag a little longer.” He had stuffed the fae woman’s bag in his own expanded one, so it really wasn’t bothering him at all.
“I do want to!” she chirped, a little too excitedly. “I mean… I’ve made better time than I would have thought. I’ve been in a bad place with myself for the last few years, and honestly, traveling with you guys has taken my mind off things—if even only for a few days. I’d like
to extend that feeling as long as I can, and if you’re only in Strita for a day or so, and you don’t mind escorting me to Charandall afterward…”
Laderic grinned. “Of course not. I’m sure we’ll be heading back that direction anyway. Relax.” Emery was quivering as she flew, with excitement and relief, since she had been legitimately worried they wouldn’t want her to come. The anxiety she hadn’t realized she’d had was lifted off her shoulders, and she felt as if she could breathe easier.
“We can always use an extra hand,” Midiga agreed, feeling a sense of empathy toward the fae. She knew all too well what it was like to be stuck in a mental hole—an adventure being the only rope strong enough to pull yourself out. “You’ve saved my life already. I’d be honored for you to take us the rest of the way.”
“Yeah, you have so many stories,” Alleria agreed. “You make it more fun to do all this walking.” Midiga and Reia nodded in agreement.
Emery sighed happily, grinning. “Well, in that case, onward to Strita! The fork is just a few miles from here.” With the smile still on her face, her tone became serious. “But, really, thank you guys for this. You have no idea how much I’ve needed it.”
Chapter 11
The travelers passed by the westward, glittering path to Charandall the next day. An unnatural archway of vines and flowers framed the entrance to the fae city, a work of art sculpted each season by the residing fairies. This archway was still the one that the springtime fae had created.
Emery waved sheepishly at the two fae guards posted outside the entrance as they passed, making sure to avoid eye contact with them. They stared at her, conflicted on whether or not they should stop her and ask why a summertime wasn’t on her way to the city this late in the season. But they let her go, remaining silent at their post.
For Emery, passing by Charandall without turning left had been a thrill in itself. She was immensely proud of herself for making that decision. It had been so long since she had made a choice for herself instead of for what everyone else wanted from her. It was rejuvenating, and the buzzing electricity of life shocked her old bones. She felt like a new fairy.
They reached the split to Strita the following morning, taking a turn toward the east. A tense air settled over them as they headed deeper into the woods.
They had only been off The Walk for less than half a day when the weather began to turn wild. The skies were quickly darkening, and what had started as a few clouds and a breeze was now compounding into a vicious storm. Occasionally, the wind would gust, and a few ominous raindrops would sprinkle on their heads—raindrops which had been blown astray from the downpour marching toward them.
They picked up their pace to a swift jog. Emery was flying quite fast, and Midiga was just behind her, baring her teeth with displeasure each time a raindrop plopped onto her fur. The droplets felt like icicles, occasionally pelting her in the shoulder or on her ears—which twitched each time this happened, though they were flattened against her skull.
“It’s this way!” shouted Emery behind her so Laderic, Alleria, and Reia could hear. They were lagging behind, but not by much, as they hustled their way down the dirt path. Reia ran beside Alleria, who was gripping her hood tightly to keep it from blowing off her pointed ears, on the off chance they were spotted by someone—or something.
They had left The Walk only hours after waking up that morning, carefully making their way through this new section of woods, a persistent paranoia suffocating them. This new road to Strita had no name and was significantly narrower, and perilous more so. The spidery branches of the thin trees loomed, and the thickets were wild with thorns and vines. All sorts of nasty creatures lay in wait in these woods. However, that was the least of their worries now. The forest was silent, as even the most terrible of monsters had taken shelter from the looming storm.
“Come on!” called Emery again. “We are almost there!” The fae knew the Brushdeep Forest like the back of her hand, even in these most dangerous of parts. And she knew, coming up in just a couple more minutes, the remains of an ancient fort lay nestled in the trees. Long ago, it had belonged to the elves who laid claim to this eastern section of the woods, but, like everything else, the elves had abandoned the fort years ago to seclude themselves in the far north.
Having been abandoned for a long time, it would provide excellent shelter until morning, but Emery was worried about whom or what else might have that same idea.
As they rounded a corner, they could see the tiptop of the once-elegant watchtower of the fort. A stench like rotting flesh hung in the air, invading their lungs. A thin dirt path overgrown with thorns and roots led toward the building from the road, and they wasted no time pushing their way through. It wasn’t long until they reached its front, and they were surprised by how close it actually was to the path. While the watchtower appeared to be quite far away, the fort itself was only twenty yards from the main road. It was so overgrown with foliage, it was impossible to see the faded gray and green stone unless one was right next to it. Moss and ivy covered the crumbling walls, and carvings of griffins and dragons cast shadows each time lightning flashed.
The abandoned fort, called Ewa’faita, was the largest fort the elves had built to guard their city on the summit of Mt. Ewa, the tallest mountain in the eastern Cliffside Mountains. Strita lay nestled at the foot of the mountain range, on the banks of a river that flows from the north. In Strita, the river cuts east into the side of the mountain range, and over millions of years, it carved out a path through the base of the mountains to the ocean. The people who settled Strita did so because the mountains provided shelter from enemies from their eastern front, but the river provided a relatively quick path to the ocean, as opposed to taking days to hike over the mountains to the other side.
The Cliffside Mountains were aptly named, as their leeward side was located right on the shore. The drop on that side was sheer as could be and very dangerous to traverse. One misstep could send an innocent traveler over the edge to their death. And it was on this side of Mt. Ewa that the elves built one of their crown jewels: Ewa’jainito. The city was chiseled into the mountainside with tunnels carved deep into the rock. Windows were cut into the cliff itself, facing the ocean. The view they provided was phenomenal but treacherous. In the summer, the ocean breeze would circulate throughout the man-made caves, providing fresh air and keeping the caves from getting too hot. In the winter, the windows would have been shut with boards to keep in the warmth.
Even now, though it had been abandoned for thousands of years, the wind continues to blow. Boards no longer shut the tunnels off from the elements, and the ocean breeze pushes through the narrow halls each time it gusts. The cave system in the mountain acts as a giant pipe organ and the mountain plays its song all year round. Some days, it is a peaceful humming whistle. Other days, it is an eerie, mournful howl.
“People around here call Ewa the Singing Mountain,” finished Emery, sating the curiosity of the others. They had all settled inside the fort. It was damp and dark, with just the fading light from outside illuminating the space through the windows. It had a creepy feeling, cobwebs covering the walls and crevices, and the opaque darkness of the hallways could have been hiding any manner of evil things. And again, the stench of rotting flesh, though faint, was ever present.
“I don’t like it in here—” started Reia. Suddenly, thunder boomed outside, the very ground vibrating beneath them as it rolled. “Eep!” she cried, crouching and covering her face with her seven tails. “But I guess it’s better than out there!”
With that clap of thunder, the realm of the gods seemed to open. The downpour began quite suddenly. It was loud and constant, pounding the ground outside and slamming into the sides of the fort.
“Ah!” cried Alleria, moving her things away from the old stone windows. In ancient times, wooden panes would have provided protection from the elements, but that wood had worn away many years ago, leaving gaping holes in the sides of the stone wall. The group scooted t
heir belongings deeper into the darkness of the fort, as rain streamed through the window.
“Reia,” Laderic said, fumbling around in his bag. From within, he drew two unlit torches and oiled rags, wrapping the rags around the tips of each torch. “A little help here.” He grasped one in each hand, holding them out to her.
The kitsune puffed up her chest and blew a tiny flame, each torch blooming to life and illuminating the damp room. The doorframe they had entered through was agape, the wooden door itself having long since decomposed. The hole was covered on the outside by wild thickets, ivy, and branches, which Laderic had partially cut away so they could scramble inside. In the back of the room, stone steps led up to a second-story landing that continued to extend back into darkness. Two long hallways stretched back on the main floor, one to the left and one to the right. The torches only lit their paths so far before inky blackness took over. The rain continued to pour.
They each began to make themselves comfortable for the evening. The thick rain clouds cast the forest in a dark shadow, and nighttime seemed to be approaching quicker than usual. Laderic wedged one of the torches in the cracked stone ground in the center of their group, using a loose stone jammed into the floor and pinching the wooden handle of the torch so it would stay upright. The other he placed in an ancient sconce in the back of the room, away from the gusty wind and invasive rain.
Midiga pulled from her belongings her single woolen blanket which she spread on the floor in front of her. Her pack felt much lighter without her bow, and her quiver was dreadful looking, having only a single arrow to boast. She sighed, ears lowering slightly with disappointment. She not only felt saddened but also, useless. Without her bow, she still had her claws, though they were her only line of defense. She had become so accustomed to taking out foes before they even reached her, she was nervous about being limited to melee combat.
Ember: Echoes of Ashes - Book 1 Page 13