Under The Elven Sky (Fengysha Series Book 1)

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Under The Elven Sky (Fengysha Series Book 1) Page 2

by Jordan Cramm


  Wolflen nodded his understanding.

  “Good,” Shamus continued, “and Ayvock, your father knew in advance that this day was coming. He has sailed with me in the past, and knows how I run a ship. Officers drink when they please, but on the night's last voyage, everyone drinks!”

  Ayvock laughed and commented briefly. “Now then,” Shamus went on, “you boys have long roads ahead of you now. But in your adventures, remember this night. Remember that once, we three were here. Remember that in this life, bonds of fellowship are priceless. And on the rare occasions where we are lucky enough to be in good company, we should always treasure those moments, forever.”

  Ayvock proposed a toast, and the mugs clamored against one another again. Each gulped at their drink, but Wolflen and Ayvock were taking it much harder than the Admiral. After all, Admiral Shamus Darkmoon was accustomed to alcohol, and this was the first time the boys could drink freely in the open. So as they drank, the boys began to feel the effects of the alcohol, sooner than Shamus ever would. They laughed and started carrying on about the voyage to date, both admitting the experience had been an unforgettable one.

  “And tomorrow we return home,” Ayvock said with a smile that quickly began to fade as the realization hit him, “and after that I suppose, we will both choose our trades.”

  Shamus knew that choosing a trade was something every young Izenian had to do, so he knew how it felt to lose childhood friends in the process of them taking different roads. Still, he decided it better to encourage Ayvock and his own son as well, as best he could.

  “Well different trades does not always mean goodbye. For someone at sea, sure it often does, but you both will be in the service of the kingdom, and as such there may be times you both work together in the field. And besides, Rangers travel the wild, often alone to their duties and quests of their own. They go where they want to most times, and of the magic classes, they are often the most free. So take heart this night—both of you. Besides, tomorrow morning we will be in port when you wake. Both of you will no doubt report home first thing. Ayvock you to your father of course, and Wolflen, you to your mother. I will be coming home later in the week when my affairs are in order here. I have been granted reprieve from duty for a month's time. My point though boys, is there is really no need to rush off to the new trade. Ayvock your father will still run your home when you return, and Wolflen has also been at sea for a year now. I believe he has earned himself at least a month off as well. So both of you, take some time to hunt or fish, or do whatever it is you two do together—just promise me there will not be any more incidents with the Giants of Grimton.”

  Wolflen and Ayvock smiled. Grimton was a city (if it could be called a city) far to the South of their home city of Akartha. One night, Wolflen had the idea that traveling there for an adventure would be fun to do. Ayvock hated the idea, but insisted to go along so that he might protect Wolflen in his insane scheme. Days later when the Giants of Grimton came into Izenian territory to trade supplies, Wolflen and Ayvock were the first things dumped out of the large baskets that the Giants carried with them. And no matter how many times the boys were asked about the adventure, neither ever told the tale of why they had gone to Grimton, or what had happened during the course of their misadventure.

  Across the table from each other, Wolflen extended his mug with a smile. Ayvock's own mug stretched toward it, and the two mugs met center table with a crash that sloshed their rum inside it. They smiled at each other and exchanged familiar glances. Each recalled that little misadventure that Wolflen's father Shamus was speaking of, and still, neither would speak of it. Shamus saw their glances and smirked somewhat himself.

  “Whatever happened, I probably do not want to know,” he said to the boys, “just don't do it again please. And now boys, I must retreat to the company of the crew. Many who have sailed with me before know that the last night of each voyage is for celebration of the safe journey. I owe them my company now as I have on every cruise. I will leave some alcohol here at the table, but I suggest you both turn in before too long. Tomorrow starts new lives for both of you. I am proud of you both. Ayvock, I know your father is proud of you too. Take the money from this cruise that you have saved and get yourself into the Knight Guild. You will make a fine Knight I think. Son, I will see you tomorrow.”

  ~

  The next morning bags were packed early. Breakfast was mostly water for lack of desire for any other food. Wolflen and Ayvock both commented about their headaches as they moved around in the lower galley of the ship, making their way to the main deck. Already, they knew that the ship had stopped. Both had grown accustomed to feeling its movement over the sea, and now it seemed slightly strange to be so still.

  “You are sure that your servant will carry my bags as well though?” Ayvock asked of Wolflen.

  Wolflen had already told him as much, and was getting frustrated that he now had to reiterate.

  “Yes okay? He will carry your bags along with mine. And no, it is no trouble, he gets paid from my family’s treasury, and no it is not a problem.”

  Ayvock still seemed as if he wanted to argue. “But,” he said, “will they take them to my home, or just with your stuff to your home?”

  Wolflen stopped before setting foot on the steps that led to the main deck.

  He turned slowly and tried to keep his frustration reigned in when he spoke, “Does it matter really? If it goes to your house fine. If it goes to mine, then we can get a cart and horse and take the things to your house. Now, can I explain it any other way, or have I answered your questions?”

  Ayvock snorted. “You don't have to be so grumpy about it,” he remarked, “I was only asking.”

  Wolflen shook his head.

  “Maybe you don’t recall last night. Maybe you forget how you yelled at me over a wand before dumping it over the side of the ship. Fine, no big deal, I can make another when I become a Ranger. But you had an attitude yesterday. Then, I came to get you for a celebration and you barked at me then. For the last few weeks you have done nothing but grumble. Then to top it off, I have a headache. Now what about those things exactly should have me in a fine mood?”

  Wolflen had a point. Ayvock was quick to respond however.

  “I don't want to go home alright?”

  “What?” Wolflen asked.

  “Yeah,” Ayvock continued, “maybe I would rather stay. Because once we get off this ship, that's it—no more hunts in the wild together, no more ventures into foreign lands, just work; our trade choosing and then we go our own ways separately.”

  Wolflen knew the coming separation bothered Ayvock, but hadn't known it was bothering him that much until now.

  “Nothing says we will not see each other again. Both of us are going to learn a trade—both will be servants of our great kingdom. And both of us CAN break away from guild rule at any time. So we learn the trade and serve our kingdom for a while. Maybe we can get similar assignments even. And we train, for however long it takes, and then we retire from the guild life and do our own thing. Trust me; us stepping off this boat will not be a permanent separation for us. I won't let it be.”

  Ayvock looked down at his feet.

  “That's easy for you to say,” he responded, “your family has money. Money grants people options. My family isn't so fortunate. I have to serve or find a way to scratch a living in the wild like the nomads. I don't want that.”

  Wolflen shook his head.

  “Will you just trust me? Everything will work out. You will see. Besides, even though you and I know what we are going to do as a trade, that doesn't mean we still can't shop around a while in choosing. And stop fretting over money. I will cover whatever expenses you have until we both decide to pick our trades. Now does that put your mind at ease at all?”

  Ayvock snorted and nodded slightly.

  “Good,” Wolflen finished, “now let's get moving. I am anxious to get on dry land again.”

  Sunlight beamed over the port sector of the city as
the chiming rang in Wolflen's ears. The sunlight hurt his eyes slightly and he almost regretted drinking the night before; almost. He snickered to himself about the events of the prior night, how he and Ayvock continued drinking, even by sneaking more bottles away from other sailors on the main deck. Wolflen expected a mess on deck, but as he stood there now, he saw that everything was as fit and orderly as the ship had been at sea. He wondered about that fact now. He had seen grown men vomit on deck, bottles roll around spilling their last sips of alcohol, and adults seemingly pissing without any regard for aim. But now—now the deck looked clean and ship-shape as it were.

  He looked toward the city, using a hand over his forehead to block the sun that seemed bound to race for his eyes this morning. Ayvock was silent and trailing sluggishly behind. One thing was certain; no matter who had cleaned the ship overnight, they must have had higher alcohol tolerances than Wolflen and Ayvock. Both of them heard the city chimes alerting everyone of the time, and each chime felt like a hammer in their heads.

  “Look, Ayvock...we can settle our dispute about the luggage later. Why don't you come home with me for a day before returning home yourself? You know your father will make this hangover only worse for you.”

  Ayvock cocked his head and thought about it. Wolflen was right. Firstly that it was silly to be arguing over the luggage, and secondly, that Ayvock's father expected Ayvock to return home probably hung-over. And to further cement the memory in Ayvock's psyche, his father would no doubt show no mercy at home. Ayvock simply nodded his agreement.

  The port dock was booming with activity. Cargo was being unloaded by various crew members, and servants were at the docks to transport the cargo to various places. Wolflen's father was the Admiral of the second Izenian fleet, so disembarking and with cargo was not quite the same as it would have been for a merchant ship, but there were still some cargo items to be unloaded. Not only personal items from the crew, but also treasure—some of which was found at sea, and some gained by skirmish. Wolflen suddenly recalled that skirmish as he saw its trophies being unloaded. Weapons, jewels...booty looted after a battle with Ogres at sea. The battle started by way of threat at sea from the Ogres. They were as foolish at sea as on land. But the battle was over quickly. Wolflen remembered the catapults of the ship slinging well-aimed balls of fire. Soon, the Ogre vessel was at the bottom of the sea with its crew to follow, but not before some of its cargo surfaced on the water, ripe for plucking. Wolflen grinned. It was his first taste of real battle, and it went as smoothly as could be hoped for. Now though, he fingered some gemstones in his pocket; his own spoils of the skirmish.

  Wolflen's servant came up the plankway of the ship with a large hand-cart with wheels. After a few moments, Wolflen and Ayvock had packed their bags into the cart, and the servant acknowledged his readiness to leave. “One year at sea...” Wolflen muttered under his breath. He was glad to be home. Ayvock asked if Wolflen said something, but Wolflen merely shook his head and grinned. Home at last. Well then, let's get a move on.

  “We've a long walk ahead,” Wolflen realized suddenly. “Maybe we would do better to rent some horses for the journey home.”

  Ayvock considered a moment. He nodded his head.

  “We'll need one for the cart and servant too. Could be expensive.”

  Wolflen rolled his eyes at his friend's observation about the financial burden for renting horses. But Ayvock was accustomed to considering the cost of things. Wolflen was not.

  “Over there, under the archways at the wall. I will get the horses rented. You just worry about staying on the back of one this time.” Ayvock simply snorted.

  Chapter 2: The Calling

  Wolflen's home was no strange place for Ayvock. As young boys, they often played together and each was quite familiar with the other's family and home. Their friendship began early, when both were in early prep school together. Prep school lasted from the time they were five years old, and carried on until the age of seventeen. It all began when Wolflen had been surrounded by a whole group of children one day. The other children made fun of Wolflen for being the son of an Izenian Admiral. When Wolflen stood up for his father and himself, he was soon surrounded by a ring of eight other children, each preparing for a fight. Looking on that day, Ayvock saw that another student was being treated unfairly, and in for an unfair fight. Without hesitation, Ayvock joined the fight, and soon, all the children that witnessed the fight were amazed to see Wolflen and Ayvock standing victorious. Of course, they were both young when the fight occurred, but at the time, it was the fight of their lives to that day.

  Ever since then, the two of them had become inseparable. Both went to the same prep school until the time that they both went to sea. Soon however, they both knew, their time together would diminish. They would be going into different trade schools.

  The front door opened to Wolflen's home and Wolflen pushed his way inside, followed by his best friend. They had already set the servant about the business of returning the horses while other servants at the door began the work of bringing in all of the luggage. Wolflen's mother though, was standing in the entryway with an apron on; clearly she had been baking something. She smiled a soft smile when she saw her son and she nodded toward him. He stepped closer and she hugged him.

  “Dad will be home soon.”

  She just smiled and welcomed her son home. When she let go of him, she nodded toward Ayvock questioningly.

  “Oh,” Wolflen remarked, “we thought maybe he could sleep here for a day or so before he goes home. You know how dad runs a ship...”

  Wolflen's mother nodded.

  “That's fine. Just—take your boots off before you go trotting through the house. I just cleaned. There are hot biscuits and also some gravy in the kitchen if you wish. You two look tired though.”

  Wolflen snickered. “One year at sea...” he said without further explanation.

  They boys removed their boots as requested. Then, they moved quite warily into the kitchen for a breakfast meal. It smelled great anyways. Plus it was hot. Biscuits, gravy, fresh fruit of different kinds, and bacon; bacon was a rarity at sea. Both boys sat at the table and began to eat silently. Each was tired, and only wanted to eat and sleep. So when they ate their fill, it was no surprise that their next destination was up the stairs and to the left—to Wolflen's room. When they got there, it looked untouched by anyone in the last year. Wolflen would re-familiarize himself with the entirety of the room later. For now, the large set of bunkbeds in the right corner of the large room was all that mattered. Ayvock seemed to be of the same mindset too, because soon the boys were both bare chested, wearing only leggings. Wolflen plopped into the lower bed, and Ayvock pulled himself into the top bunk after a last surge of strength to leap upwards.

  For a moment it was quiet. Then, briefly, the silence was broken.

  “Things are going to change now aren't they?” Ayvock asked.

  Change. Yes. In many ways things have already changed. Wolflen knew that Ayvock would rather do without the need to go to a new school, to learn new faces and names, in addition to the fact that he would be learning a skill as well. Sure, Ayvock had always aspired to be a Knight, but that dream had always been far off. Now it rushed him with frightening speed. Wolflen knew that his best friend must have a stomach full of knots.

  “Maybe,” Wolflen replied at last, “but some change is good after all.”

  That was comforting enough for Ayvock, and both of them slept a great while.

  ~

  The dream came at once and stars whirled toward him as though he floated through space and time itself. He felt weightless until at once he stood on solid ground again. His feet were heavy, and images and sounds alike rushed him, creating his disorientation. He nearly fell over, but managed to crouch to his knees, covering his face in his hands until the blurred images and sounds stopped. He raised his head slowly, trying to gather his surroundings to his mind, but all he saw was blackness. Even the ground beneath him looked black. All h
e heard was silence; the silence of thousands of years. He was disoriented still. He stood; in the darkness he could still not see anything. He held his right hand out in front of him. He couldn't see it in the blackness. What is this place—WHERE is this place?

  He took a deep breath. Nothing. No sound of breathing, no feel of breathing either. Then suddenly multiple flashes of light; not light—lightning. Overhead, pearls and veins of lightning streaked, lighting the nothingness of his current location. But it did not make a sound at all. Just light. Then in the distance ahead, flames erupted out of nothing and nowhere. Again there was no sound, but Wolflen saw the flames stretch over what he guessed to be 50 feet in the air. And then, under the illumination that existed from the lightning, which Wolflen could see had been somehow frozen above in the sky; no more flash and then black, the flashes had lit the overhead area, and not retreated. The bolts of lightning remained frozen above. Frozen Wolflen soon realized, by ice. No sound came, but Wolflen instinctively knew to dodge the large icicle that was larger than him, as it crashed near him. And then ahead, the large fires that blazed in the distance were blown out by a very strong wind that started from just behind Wolflen. The whole scene was confusing.

  He blinked, trying to take it all in and understand what he was seeing. Where the fires had been a large body of water began to form, and next to its edge a tree suddenly grew. In no time, the tree spread its branches far and wide. Wolflen was dumbfounded. He began to walk toward it, and shortly after, he reached it. He touched the trunk of the tree, and noticed crimson fluid dripping from its bark. Blood? Is the tree bleeding? How can that be? Another oddity was that Wolflen was wearing boots in his dream, and seemingly walking over a rocky surface. But even so, he heard no sound when he walked. Everything was muted here.

  And then, from the water beyond, Wolflen saw something emerge from its surface. It looked to be a Dire Wolf, bigger than a normal horse. Wolflen saw it seemingly walk on top of the water, and approach. It stood a moment at water's edge and stared at Wolflen. Wolflen stared back. The wolf opened its mouth and oddly, a discernable voice called Wolflen's name. And at that, Wolflen suddenly woke from the dream.

 

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