Eligium- The Complete Series

by Jake Allen Coleman

  A bedraggled pirate ran up to Nicjo, a pair of chains dangling from his hands. Seeing the situation under control, the captain detailed a small group to stay with Nicjo and help watch over the prisoners until they had them chained. Strutting over to Sebastian, Nicjo yanked Sebastian’s arm behind him, and slapped the first iron on his right wrist. Tightening down the screws he kept going until the metal dug into the flesh on either side. It was all Sebastian could do to keep from gasping at the agony generated by the pressure of the manacle. Satisfied, Nicjo grabbed his other arm and repeated the procedure, locking down both iron cuffs, ensuring Sebastian could not work them free. “That should keep ye,” Nicjo smirked.

  Turning to Krystelle, he raked his gaze down the full length of her body. Licking his lips, he sauntered over to her, collecting the second pair of irons. Leaning in, he got closer to Krystelle than he had Sebastian, much closer, and grabbed her arm. “Now I can take care of you little lady.” Pulling her in close, he extended his tongue and slobbered it across her cheek.

  Two of the guards took hold of Sebastian as he lunged forward, “Keep away from her!”

  Nicjo glared back at him, “Quiet you!” Krystelle took advantage of the distraction, slamming her knee into the pirate’s groin with all her might. Nicjo doubled over with pain, “You little bitch!” One hand holding his balls he backhanded Krystelle, sending her flying across the deck. She crashed into a pile of rope and lay there, motionless.

  Inside Sebastian’s head everything went black and red. A haze rose in front of his eyes and he shook off the two guards still holding his arms as magic filled him. A pulse of power burst from his body, sending the pirates flying backward. One crashed into the mast and the other fell overboard from the impact. Looking down at the iron cuffs encircling his wrists, he clenched both fists and pulled. The irons split apart at the bindings, dropping to the deck and freeing him. Sebastian advanced towards Nicjo, when another pirate charged from the side. Extending an arm, Sebastian released a stream of fire that caught the pirate full in the chest, killing. Filled with fury he towered over Nicjo, who lay on the ground nursing his injury. Hauling back, Sebastian pounded his fist into the man’s face, crushing it with an impact more akin to a blacksmith’s hammer.

  More pirates closed on the boy as he turned to help Krystelle. He waved an arm at the closest group and all three collapsed, dead where they stood. Captain Tiriaq joined his men on the deck and called out to them to hold, making a sign to ward off evil spirits. “What are you?” he said, with a quiver in his voice. “No, don’t you answer that. Take the woman and the longboat. Be on your way. We won’t hinder you. Just don’t kill any more of my crew!”

  Ignoring the man, Sebastian knelt down next to Krystelle and laid his hand on her neck. A pulse! He slid one arm under her knees, the other behind her back, and draped her arm around his own neck. Rising, he turned back towards the boat they had been planning to steal. Several crew members had righted the craft and were loading it with provisions. One glanced up at Sebastian and made the sign to ward off evil spirits. Setting Krystelle on a blanket near the bow of the longboat, Sebastian loaded Gerhard’s chest and climbed in himself.

  The pirates lowered their craft down to the water and Sebastian cast off the lines. Placing the oars in the oarlocks he applied all his energy to increasing the distance between them and the slaver’s vessel. Watching the lights on the ship dwindle into the distance, he continued to feed his anger. Anger at what the ship represented. Anger at Sterling Lex. Anger at what the pirate, Nicjo, had done to Krystelle. She lay unconscious near the bow.

  He felt the anger as a fire in his bones. Closing his eyes and clenching his fists he struggled to control himself. In the back of his mind he felt Stretch’s now familiar presence. Reaching out, he shared the raw emotion he felt with the young dragon and felt Stretch respond in kind. Sebastian looked across the water at the pirate ship and imagined it bursting into flames as Stretch drew near.

  The dragon swooped out of the night sky and Sebastian watched the pirates scramble across the deck in fear, several diving over the side to escape. On his next pass, Stretch exhaled a burst of fire and the ship exploded into flames. Sebastian watched as a few more members of the crew leapt into the sea, bodies aflame. Within moments the ship slipped below the surface, leaving only a few burning embers to float on the waves. Satisfied, Sebastian returned to his rowing. Silently he thanked Stretch as the dragon circled their raft once and flew off into the darkness.

  #

  Sebastian woke the next morning draped over the oars. He had rowed himself to exhaustion and collapsed. The sun was a hand-breath above the horizon and in the distance he could see a flock of seabirds wheeling across the sky. Stowing the oars, he pulled a jug of water from the supplies the slavers had loaded aboard the longboat the previous night. He took a swig and reflected on how he felt about everything that had happened. It made him sick to think about what he had done to the pirates, using magic in that way. He had let his anger and rage get the better of him and he resolved to do better controlling his emotions in the future.

  Carrying his jug, he moved to the bow of the longboat to check on Krystelle. Propping her up, he poured a trickle of water into her mouth. She swallowed involuntarily, but otherwise there was no response from the comatose woman. Tearing a strip of cloth from his shirt, Sebastian doused it with water to wipe her brow. Her eyes flickered open. She eked out a single word, “Sebastian?”

  “Rest easy, we made it to the boat. We’re safe now.”

  Lifting a hand to her head, Krystelle used her other arm to mover herself to a sitting position. Stretching out her arm, “Water,” she croaked. He helped her bring the jug to her parched lips, trickling a steady stream of the water into her mouth.

  “Go slowly and hold it in your mouth before you swallow.” Once he was satisfied that Krystelle was out of danger, Sebastian busied himself sorting through their supplies. His first discovery was a set of short poles made of some wood he did not recognize, wrapped up in a piece of old sailcloth. The poles were a tan color and had joins every few inches that reminded him of knuckles. The wood was uniform in diameter along its length and had a smooth texture although they did not appear to have been worked to achieve those qualities. He had never seen wood like this before and Sebastian assumed that they had grown that way.

  Untying the package, he sat for a moment wondering what its purpose was as it had been placed in the boat for a reason. He was about to set it aside and continue his inventory when he noticed a set of round holes drilled in the gunwales of the boat. Seeing them gave him an idea. He took four of the poles and inserted them into the holes. They fit and he decided his hunch was correct. Using the remaining poles and the rope he created a frame for the sailcloth, which he lashed in place with the rest of the rope. Scuttling back toward the bow, he evaluated his handiwork. They now had a passable shelter to protect them from the heat of the day.

  “Come on now, let’s get you into the shade.” Placing his arm under Krystelle’s and around her back, he helped her into the lean-to and settled her down on one bench. “There now, that’s better. You have more of that water. Drink up now, it won’t do you any good in the jug.” Obediently, she raised it to her mouth and took a swig.

  “What happened? All I remember is that pig of a sailor, Nicjo. His breath stank like a sty.”

  “He pressed himself on you, and you…reacted.”

  “Reacted?”

  “You crushed his…” Sebastian turned bright red as he trailed off.

  “Oh,” she laughed. “Ow. It hurts to laugh. What happened then?”

  “Well he hit you. Hard. You went down and you weren’t moving. I couldn’t bear it. I tapped into the magic again to free myself. It took over, and I let it. I killed several of the pirates with flame and power.” He trailed off describing how Captain Tiriaq had sent them off with the boat loaded down with supplies.

  “And that’s it?” Krystelle asked. “They let us sail off.” Seba
stian squirmed at that question. “What? Did something else happen?”

  “After we got clear I couldn’t stop thinking about what they would do if I let them go. It made me so angry. Somehow I called out to Stretch, and he knew how angry I was. He came and attacked the ship. He set it afire, and it sank!”

  “Sebastian!”

  He leaned back against the wood planking and reached out his arm for the water jug. Krystelle waited as he worked his way back through everything that had happened with the pirates. “I know I shouldn’t be so glad, but I am. And I’ll not deny it. There’s something else that bothers me and I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  “I can. You shouldn’t be this strong. It takes years and years of discipline to master the magical arts and you keep going forward in leaps and bounds. It doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “You know, I never wanted any of this. Until I met you that day by the river I thought magic done and gone with the Ban, and good riddance. Now, no matter what path I find myself on I keep having to use magic to survive. I don’t know if I want any of it.”

  “Sebastian, you were born with this. It’s part of who you are and I don’t think you can just walk away.”

  “Don’t I get a choice?”

  “We all have choices to make. Yours is what you will do with the gift you’ve been given. What you did in sinking that boat was something Sterling Lex would have done. The world already has one of him and it does not need another.”

  Uncomfortable, Sebastian turned away from her and continued rummaging in the supplies. He could see they were well-stocked for a journey of many days and said as much to Krystelle. “They’ve left us with a good store of rations here.”

  “No doubt after seeing what you did on that deck they feared incurring more wrath. Is there anything there for navigation?”

  He ignored the reference to his magic. “Aye, there’s a compass and sextant, but I don’t know how to use them.”

  “Well I do. Mount us up a sail and I’ll reckon a course to the islands as best I can. They should still lie east of us and even if we don’t strike Uriasz we can follow the island chain once we find it.”

  It did not take long for Sebastian to rig a makeshift sail. As the wind filled it, they set off towards Cale Uriasz, sun rising into the clear sky. It was well into the afternoon when Sebastian’s eyes grew heavy. “Rest a while,” said Krystelle. “I will keep us on course.” Without a word of protest he crawled under their lean-to and fell deeply asleep.

  The dream was different this time.

  Sebastian soared high over the countryside at a pace he had not known possible. He could feel the giddiness deep in his gut and it tickled him the way talking with Genette had when he’d dropped by the inn growing up in Taleros to visit the lass while his uncle was about his errands in the village. Not that she’d ever given him much in the way of encouragement. She had her eye on the soldiers that came to town twice a year to guard the taxmen for the king.

  The river he followed widened into a clear blue lake and he could feel the moisture on his face. Looking down, he saw his own image reflected in the water surface. How had he not known he was a dragon? Dipping down, he let his toes drag in the water, casting up a fantail behind him. Lifting off, he banked toward the distant mountains. He could feel something calling to him from the far side.

  Nearing the foothills, he passed over an isolated farmstead and watched the family run, scrambling towards shelter. They reminded him of his aunt and uncle, and little Bernice. Pushing on towards the pass, he swept between two snow-covered peaks. The green of the forest rushed past him even faster now.

  Passing out of the mountains he could smell blood and smoke and fear in the air. Far ahead was the familiar outline of the Cinaeth rising over the Loegaire. He’d not seen it from above this way and it looked so much smaller now. All around the fortress was chaos. From the carnage evident, he could see that the battle had been raging for some time and the Dragon Guard was not having the best time of it.

  He could feel the call even stronger now, calling he and his brothers to the battle. What had been a gentle warmth was now a burning fire in his bones. He had to unleash that fire. The Dragon Guard. Why the Dragon Guard? Were they not allies from times past? No mind. He had to obey the call.

  “Ho!” the voice rang out. He knew that voice. “Sebastian! Wake up Sebastian!” His eyes snapped open and he could see a sheet of canvas above him. The glorious vistas of his dream were gone and along with them the intoxicating scent of the battle. Instead it smelled like the sea. Why did it smell of the sea? he wondered. Sitting up, he looked around to find himself on a longboat.

  “A dream,” he whispered to himself. “It was just a dream.” But it had felt so real.

  “Sebastian!” Krystelle came bustling into the shelter. “We are there, or nearly so. And not just the islands. It is Uriasz itself. Come look!” She tugged on his arm, not noticing his confusion in her excitement. Pulling him out into the open she pointed toward the distant isle.

  “It’s so…green,” was all he could muster.

  “Of course it is green, it is an island. Oh Sebastian, we have done it.” She flung her arms around him in a tight hug lasting the longest of moments, then pulled away. Composing herself, she continued. “We must hurry to shore. Once we have rallied the wizards, they will elect a new Arch-mage and they can stop whatever Sterling Lex has planned.”

  Sebastian wanted to share her optimism, yet in the aftermath of the dream there was a foreboding in his heart. He scanned the shoreline looking for something, anything, that would dispel the aching he felt. “Where is the Cale? I don’t see any sign of it?”

  “We’ve come up south so the Cale should be around that promontory there,” she pointed and Sebastian followed the line of her finger. Drifting into the sky they could see streams of black smoke that could only come from Cale Uriasz itself.

  Standing there, they were silent, absorbing what they were seeing. Then they turned to look at one another and said, at the same time, “We need to get to shore.”

  Pulling hard on the oars, Sebastian stroked with every ounce of strength within him. A brisk easterly wind came up behind them, adding to the progress from his rowing. He tried not to think about that wind and the possibility it might be him again tapping into the wild elven magic raging in his blood. Instead, he kept his focus on the task at hand. Between the wind and his efforts it was not long before they neared the shoreline.

  He paused in his rowing, “Shall I veer around the promontory or do we come ashore here?”

  Surveying the landscape, Krystelle thought for a moment. “No,” she said at last. “I think we land here. If there is something wrong at the Cale and Sterling Lex has staged an attack, then he will watch the sea. We can scout out the state of things and come around to the inland gates.”

  “Will there not be guard posted inland too?”

  “Perhaps, but the focus will be on the sea. We will have an easier time of it approaching on foot.”

  Sebastian silently thanked the gods for the time Krystelle spent learning strategy and the art of war as an apprentice in the Dazhberg. Not for the first time and not, he was sure, for the last. Taking her advice, he drew hard on one oar, swinging the bow of their longboat to the shore. A few moments later he felt the drag of the keel on the sand, the boat’s momentum would only carry them so far. Shipping the oars, he swung himself over the side and called for Krystelle to toss him the bowline before the craft grounded. Digging in to the sand with bare feet, he used the boat’s force to his advantage as he pulled it several more feet up the shore. Locating a sturdy tree, he secured the vessel against a rising tide.

  Krystelle rummaged through the stores under the boat’s shelter and came up with two old swords, one for each of them. She handed one to Sebastian and moved to catapult over the side.

  Sebastian stopped her mid-leap, “Wait! What about Gerhard’s chest?”

  “We leave it here with the rest of our supplies.
We can come back for it once we know what is happening at the Cale.”

  “I don’t know, Krystelle. My heart warns me that if there is something wrong at Cale Uriasz—and I fear there is—we must keep that chest safe. I feel like I owe it to him. Any vessel patrolling the shoreline will see the craft and investigate. A contingent from the Cale itself would do the same.”

  “You are right. What do you propose?”

  “Hand the chest down and we’ll hide it nearby. See those trees there?” He pointed at two palms that had grown across each other. “We’ll bury the chest in their shadow.”

  “Ex marks the spot?”

  “In this case it will! As long as another storm doesn’t sweep through, it should be safe until we can come back for it.”

  It did not take long for Sebastian and Krystelle to bury the old wizard’s chest in the soft sand. Sweating from the labor, Sebastian pulled his shirt back on and they made their way through the sparse jungle toward the high bluffs overlooking Cale Uriasz. Nearing the crest, they dropped to a crawl to avoid exposing themselves against the blue sky behind them.

  Peering over the top, Sebastian got his first look at Cale Uriasz. Or what was left of it at least. His first thought was that the fabled outpost of the wizards looked more like a collection of huts and shacks than the grand city of his imagination. Then the reality of what he was seeing sank in. Black smudges in the sand were the only indication of other buildings that had been destroyed. What was left of the remaining structures was smoldering from the aftermath of the attack.

  A simple dock extended out into the harbor. It was the one structure that showed no sign of ruin. What had been a simple fence surrounding the outpost lay like straw scattered about the perimeter. All of that was nothing against the sight of charred bodies discarded throughout the compound.